#every single fucking time this game has an update. no matter how fucking small. it Always needs to download half the fuckin game again.

[wickedghxst]

genuinely what the actual fuck is wrong with the halo infinite steam version.

[leighsartworks216]

How the LADS men would react to some of my favorite games

All x Reader (separately, and it's not the main focus)

Picking out games for them all was kinda difficult, bc I have so many favorites and I wasn't sure what they'd react to or how they'd react. But I'm pretty happy with these

Based on this post

Warnings: crackfic (kinda?), one horror game, slight angst with Zayne, swearing

Word Count: 1,123 (oh hell yeah)

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form (Psst fill this out to be tagged in future fics! - Updated to include Xavier)

Xavier:

I think Xavier would love The Outer Worlds

I mean,, it’s a game that takes place entirely in another solar system where you crash land in an escape pod on a strange planet and gotta figure out how people here work without letting them know you’re “not from here”

They literally call the player “The Stranger”

I think he’d love looking up at the sky in game

Every one of the sky boxes is gorgeous but Emerald Vale especially

I think he’d find a safe area in game and put it on just to stare up at the sky (and fall asleep too)

Tries to choose the best outcome for every situation

Which means fucking over the government and not feeling an ounce of guilt for it

But fucking over the underdogs even for a minute feels awful

Has to ask you which choice is better or how to get the best outcome

Scarily good at fighting with melee weapons

Esp considering the heavy reliance on guns

Accidentally min-maxes the characters

He’d also love Coffee Talk

The music is so calming he usually ends up falling asleep to it

Spends a lot of time and consideration into every drink

Draws a little bunny in the lattes every single time

Probably accidentally clocks the plot twist of the game on the very first run

Tries making you the drinks irl and uhhhh he shouldn’t

-

Zayne:

Of the games I’ve played, I think The Silent Age would be very interesting for him

Helps solve the puzzles (even if you’ve played it before)

Says he finds the art style to be “charming”

Sits through every piece of dialogue no matter how long and doesn’t go forward until he comprehends it

Gets so concerned when Joe starts coughing

Generally doesn’t like seeing the bodies

It makes him unsettled and has him thinking about those he’s lost to such gruesome deaths

The twist at the end absolutely fascinates him so much

And the SECOND twist pulls him out of it

Was lowkey hoping it would be something more… fantastical

But does have to admit that horror in the now-mundane is interesting too

I also would LOVE to watch him play Ace Attorney

Could you IMAGINE???

“This is illegal.” “I know, but so is murder.” “They don’t cancel out, you know.”

“If somebody on the witness stand is overreacting that much to one small detail, I think the judge should be a little more concerned about it.”

He’d kinda love Miles Edgeworth ngl

Understands exactly what he means with the entire “unnecessary feelings” business

Wishes the autopsy reports were more in depth, for his own amusement

Accidentally says “objection” when you’re trying to lie to him about not taking care of yourself

Can’t live it down for the next week, at LEAST

-

Sylus:

Little Nightmares, straight up

He finds the concept absolutely fascinating

Doesn’t play, but enjoys watching you play

“Careful, kitten. His long arms almost grabbed you.” “YES, THANK YOU, I NOTICED.”

Loves to see you so panicked and freaked out

Laughs if something small makes you jump out of your skin

But he does try to comfort you after chase sequences when it feels like you’re having a heart attack

Pulls you into his lap and promises to protect you

Will not complain if you choose to stay there for the rest of the game

Helps you solve puzzles if you’re struggling with them for too long

But he always asks to know if you want the answer

He doesn’t need you pouting and upset just because you couldn’t figure out how to do something relatively simple

Warns the twins not to scare you for a while

For their own safety tbh

You have a gun and you WILL use it

He’d also like watching you play Animal Crossing

You can and will bully him into joining

Will catch the scary or difficult bugs for you if you’re struggling

Doesn’t need to look up any guides to find the real artworks

The very second he can get his hands on the cat cap, it’s going to you

Might ask what color you want, but he’s more likely to pick it for you so its a surprise

Wraps it up too

“Sweetie, I got you a gift.” “Awe, really?.... Really, Sylus?” “Put it on, kitten.”

Luke and Kieran have their own town

It’s extremely flushed out and scary how impressive it is

Runs turnips with them so you have nearly a billion Bells to spend on anything you want

He lets you design his house, even if you make it silly

-

Rafayel:

Tell me why my first thought was Pokemon Art Academy

He would love it tho

Sitting on the couch together, watching over your shoulder as you follow the tutorials to draw the Pokemon

They turn out like shit but he claims to love them

Passing it over to him is a bad idea, but he won’t stop whining until you do

Creates an entire masterpiece

That creature is in a damn candid shot, shaded and everything

You should have known it was a terrible idea to show him the game

When he doesn’t feel like painting or just needs a break for his mind, he’ll play it

Honestly I see him at one of his own exhibitions, standing in the corner and playing it

Thomas complains to you about it all the time

Rafayel texts you about how much the Pokemon miss you and want you to come over :’(((

Beats the game

Somehow

Not just the lessons either, literally every single drawing they give you to do, he does it

When you look at the gallery, you can see when you stopped playing and when he took over

He’d also love Little Inferno

Sings the jingle all the time until you’re threatening him to shut up

Doesn’t honestly understand the appeal at first

He can literally make and control fire, why can’t you just give him some stuff to burn and he’ll do it for you

But he slowly gets the appeal

Especially when the batteries explode

Hates the pooping cat plushie with a passion

“If that thing ever shows up in a claw machine, we are NOT getting it.”

He either fully completes the game, combos and all, or he gets to the second catalog and gets bored, no in between

Will happily watch you play tho

Loves the way you focus on trying to decipher the clues for the combos

No shame, WILL be looking up the combinations and WILL spoil them for you just to bug you

May plan a date around throwing shit into a fireplace and watching it burn in real life

There’s a fire extinguisher nearby, just in case

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44

[stardustprompts]

what we do in the shadows  --  season 3 sentence starters  part 1 change tenses/pronouns as needed !!  some lines have been edited for clarity / length / ease of roleplaying tw :   nsfw , language , death , sexism

‘still, he should not have done so much slaughtering.’

‘well, I guess I should just shut the fuck up then.’ 

‘thank you for saving us, but sorry, you’re our mortal enemy-- you’ve got to die, babes.’ 

‘but how do you know he is not going to kill us? it is in his bloods.’

‘perhaps he is warning us of an imminent danger.’ 

‘now remember, do not look him directly in the eyes. we still do not know the depths of his power.’ 

‘so has there been any updates on my fate?’

‘I’m not trying to kill anyone either, except for you!’

‘you may speak but, remember, no bullshit from thy mouth.’ 

‘I love thrones! they’re my favorite chair.’ 

‘I became a vampire to suck blood and to fuck forever.’

‘you were shitting yourself for a moment there, weren’t you?’

‘is your brain fully operational?’ 

‘ (name) and I have agreed to work together as a team.’ 

‘ for now, I’m letting (name) think that we are ‘sharing power’.’

‘don’t monkey about with that!’ 

‘I’d go myself, but I can’t be fucked.’ 

‘these buns will be waiting for you.’ 

‘I am prepared to escalate matters to crazy levels!’

‘she’s angry, as women so often are.’ 

‘well, you started by calling me dipshit.’ 

‘you, my darling, have the high firm ass of an irish derby winner.’

‘it could be that he has feelings for you, too.’ 

‘you seem really into him.’

‘you have turned into a very very soft boy!’

‘me, personally, I don’t give a shit where he goes.’ 

‘the cat’s out the bag! your boy’s in love!’ 

‘I have no issue with (name).’

‘between you and me, I wouldn’t normally spend this much time with him.’ 

‘I figure the quicker he gets on with it, the quicker he’ll shut his mouth.’ 

‘agree with what? I didn’t say anything.’ 

‘I don’t really remember my mom anymore.’ 

‘we can have a girlie to girlie conversation.’ 

‘being a werewolf is not a crime!’

‘the only crime that my (name) is guilty of is stealing. stealing my heart.’ 

‘okay now look, we’re not here to cause trouble, we’re just here to, you know, be nice. and nonconfrontational.’ 

‘not only am I his bodyguard, I am also his heart guard.’ 

‘I always knew we couldn’t trust your kind!’ 

‘attention! the party bus will be leaving in a moment.’ 

‘no, I was just being polite. it’s obviously very shitty.’ 

‘holy shit! it’s just like ocean’s eleven!’

‘I mean, at every office I’ve worked at, they always say ‘we’re a big family here’. and it does motivate people to work harder and neglect their actual families and put up with all sorts of degrading shit.’ 

‘have you got a little secret, you little sick fuck?’ 

‘do you know what the most beautiful thing in the world is? fucking.’ 

‘you know how it is when you have the binge - watch blinders on. I got caught up in a show that i’m obsessed with.’ 

‘I can feel my powers fading!’

‘I need to borrow your credit card and not tell you why.’ 

‘fucking knicks. they’ll break your heart every time. but I can’t quit ‘em.’ 

‘listen, I trust you. you’re my main man, I’d die for you.’ 

‘I need to sort this, and I need to sort it now.’ 

‘and in a single instant, my world was turned upside down.’ 

‘this is science.’ 

‘I am all alone, floating through the cold, dark universe like a little grain of furry sand.’

‘I have never felt so small, and what is the point of anything?’ 

‘i’m pretty certain it might be this way.’ 

‘it’ll take awhile to play but I think if we start now we should be done by dawn.’ 

‘i’m in too deep.’ 

‘I could kiss you, (name)!’

‘it’s all a big game of chess. I just didn’t say who was playing whom.’ 

‘okay hear me out, if you tell me the rules, I’d be down to follow them.’ 

‘that was a shit response, wasn’t it?’ 

‘I guess I do fucked-up shit now. that’s just who I am.’ 

‘no one said that. please do not talk anymore.’ 

‘okay, fine, I don’t even care at this point.’ 

[itsevanffs]

Hihi!! I've been hyperfixating on tommary lately and I absolutely loved (In the dark!)! I wanted to see if u have any tommary/harrymort fics that u recommend.. preferably ones that feature a possessive Tom ^^ ty in advance

I guess this would be the right time to publicly declare my bookmarks as open? Everything on there is a hard rec, and I vigorously quality-check those... for my liking and my liking only. (Sorry, not sorry. They're there for me, after all.)

That being said, hmm. I've got a few you might like.

Below the cut: more (additionally to my bookmarks) Tomarrymort (Tomarry or Harrymort) recommendations with possessive/obsessive Tom in alphabetical order; NOT order of how much I enjoy them. I'd argue I enjoy them all equally, just in different ways.

Ps: thank you! I'm incredibly flattered you liked my work :D

and don't let the police know anything by littlecupkate https://archiveofourown.org/works/24920947

Ted Dirlod is dangerous, Harry Potter knows this for a fact, but the man was still his only hope at escaping a doomed fate. It is never wise to blackmail a crime lord. It is even more unwise(?) when said crime lord is obsessed with you. An expanded version of "praying to whatever's in heaven, please send me a felon"

Genuinely lovely? Ticks all my boxes, at least, and minimal angst, which is always a plus. That being said, you should probably read the work mentioned in the summary as well for context. But hey. Two cakes by one person ;) Can never go wrong, can it?

As Certain Dark Things Are to be Loved by Strange_Soulmates https://archiveofourown.org/works/6015619

Tom was Harry's best friend growing up and his first love. At eight, Harry gave Tom his first kiss before moving away. As a freshman in college, the name of the RA on the door across the hall is terribly familiar.

Also absolutely deliciously indulgent. Tom is a possessive terror and Harry loves him for it. Need I say more?

Harry Potter and the Search for Ancient Magic (series) by Snickerdoodlepop https://archiveofourown.org/series/1133141

Once Voldemort realizes that Harry Potter is his horcrux, his plans change drastically. So does Draco Malfoy's assignment for the school year. Harry's sixth year starts going very differently. Snape is on a mission. Harry needs to learn pureblood politics. Draco Malfoy is trying to convince Harry to forgive him. Voldemort finds himself visiting Harry Potter in his dreams. Everyone is realizing that no one is quite what they thought. And through it all, there's a mystery. What is Ancient Magic? Can Harry use it to save himself or will it pull him toward the dark side?

Honestly, genuinely, hands down the best fucking tomarrymort series I've ever read. Hard, hard rec from here. The first work is completed and the second is in progress, so it's a nice pile of words to chew through!

can't commit to anything but a crime by caelesti https://archiveofourown.org/works/27286483

Excitement is the word he does not dare utter, even in the privacy of his own mind. It’s wrong, he knows. These women are people, in their own right; people with fears and aspirations, with friends and families and dreams, and to have anything cut those lives short is nothing but tragic. To have anyone cut those lives short is nothing but condemnable. He doesn’t have James Potter’s laugh lines, but he does have his father’s innate flair for danger. He doesn’t have Lily Potter’s enthusiasm, but he does have her insatiable curiosity. (In every world, Harry will excel at finding the biggest spot of trouble available and sticking his nose in it.)

Hot serial killer serial killer hot. That's it, those are the thoughts. Please read.

Dripping Fingers by May_May_0_0 https://archiveofourown.org/works/25440826

When Harry finds Tom Riddle's diary he does not write 'Hello.' He does not write anything at all. He draws. Tom Riddle falls in love with the artwork. _________________ Sketch by sketch, drawing by drawing, the ink Harry pours into the diary manifests as creations in Tom's monochrome world.

Okay so if I'm the reincarnation of Shakespeare, May_May_0_0 is fucking... Ted Hughes. Which doesn't say much to your average viewer but that man wrote my favourite poem ever (the one I based my war fic off) and I hold him in very high regard. This story? It is poetry in its rawest form. Pure, condensed beauty. If you decide to read only one of the fics in this list, please choose this one.

Either must die at the hand of the other by Metalomagnetic https://archiveofourown.org/works/29356095

Voldemort survives the Battle of Hogwarts because Harry Potter had not been the one to kill him, as the prophecy demands.

When is Metalomagnetic not a master of words? When will I cease becoming breathless at every paragraph, at every cleverly twisted word that comes back and reveals itself so beautifully later?

Fine Line by galaxiesundone https://archiveofourown.org/works/26949952

Magic always leaves traces. The lingering darkness of Sectumsempra, combined with Harry’s nature as a horcrux, awakens the soul piece contained within Ravenclaw’s diadem. At twenty years old, Tom Riddle walks a fine line between man and monster, the devil and the light-bringer in one. His influence forces Harry to face an ancient enemy unlike anything he has faced before: temptation.

Long story short: Tom Riddle is Hot and Good At Being Hot and Harry truly doesn't stand a chance and I am here for it. Lord help me I love this fic to pieces.

Good Intentions by Strange_Soulmates https://archiveofourown.org/works/7035334

Five year old Harry Potter meets and befriends a seventeen year old Tom Riddle while hanging out at his dad’s station. James Potter decides to take Tom under his wing, using Tom’s connection with Harry to try and keep the teen grounded, even as he begins to investigate the Death Eaters, a dangerous organized crime group and their mysterious leader only known as Lord Voldemort.

The sheer potential of this fic. The horrible, terrible dread of future events that have yet to be revealed. I will cry.

Honey, Smoke, Shiver by machiavelli https://archiveofourown.org/works/16068062

Harry - Omega, only son of Lord Potter - is nothing more than a useful playing card in a political game of power and money, one that is bought by the famed Tom Riddle: powerful, dangerous, pureblood Alpha. Unsurprisingly, Harry loves being underestimated.

Machiavelli is always a rec from me. Sorry lads but that's the way it is. Never a moment where I won't recommend their stuff.

Sickly-Sweet Obsession by maquira https://archiveofourown.org/works/18259103

Quiet, studious Tom Riddle spends his first year thirsting after an older student—Gryffindor’s Quidditch Captain, Harry Potter. His crush is common knowledge, and even Harry finds it cute… at first. Possessiveness spawns monstrosities. Tom does all within his power to mess with Harry’s dating life. And one seemingly harmless crush spirals into something darker, begetting deadly consequences.

Again; the potential. Delicious. This will bloom into something beautifully twisted, I'm sure of it.

Stars, Hide Your Fires by Audair https://archiveofourown.org/works/27745546

Riddle’s undivided attention snapped to him with the swiftness of shattering glass. His turbulent magic receded from where it had besieged the shop. "You,” he breathed. Coiling in leisurely motions, the eager tendrils of his magic reached for Harry, swathing about his limbs and neck and chest with a liquid, flowing fascination. "I’ve been looking for you,” Riddle continued, tilting his head to the side and sweeping his gaze over Harry. It was an appraisal that felt simultaneously like the raking of iron nails and the tender drapery of silk. It was so familiar, and yet… so foreign. In the winding streets of Knockturn Alley, an intricate dance of mutual obsession unravels between twenty-three-year-old Tom Riddle and a time-travelling Harry Potter.

This work has recently been undergoing a rewrite, and I can tell you with certainty it's only gotten better for it. It's beautiful; the setting, the atmosphere, the vibes... Perfection. Captures Knockturn Alley's mood impeccably and does not disappoint a single moment.

the pleasure, the privilege by asterisms https://archiveofourown.org/works/21227528

It begins with Vernon Dursley's body, dead across the table. In which Voldemort is dosed with amortentia, and nothing is better for it.

Completed, terrifying... and gorgeous.

The Shrike (to your sharp and glorious thorn) by PaperWorlds https://archiveofourown.org/works/22380079

Shrike: A songbird with a sharply hooked bill, known for their habit of catching insects and small vertebrates and impaling their bodies on thorns, the spikes on barbed-wire fences, or any available sharp point. A young Harry Potter survives an attack by notorious serial killer Voldemort. Over a decade later, they meet again.

Lads I'm so desperate for an update from this fic that I might cry if I think about it for too long. I keep saying it and I'll say it again; this is one of those fics with amazing potential that are sure to never disappoint no matter what path they take. An incredibly hard rec.

To Raise a Servant by bluegrass https://archiveofourown.org/works/19780816

Tom had found the boy amidst pouring rain. He figured he'd always wanted a pet snake.

Surprisingly not quite as dark as the summary makes it seem? I certainly enjoyed it, though, and that's why it's on this list.

What He Grows To Be by Severus_divides_into_H https://archiveofourown.org/works/19042240

Tom Riddle is a frightening coil of darkness, cruelty, and greatness, and changing him is Harry’s only hope for saving people he loves. Going back in time, he takes Tom from the orphanage, but his optimism shatters with every year they spend together. Tom still longs for darkness. Tom stifles him in his possessiveness. Tom is fixated on him to the point of destroying the world just to keep him. But Harry loves him. And the future changes.

Beautiful. And absolutely terrifying. I've started crying mid-scene at least three times for this fic, and it honestly seems unfathomable if you haven't read it if you're on my profile, since I think this is one of the fics that have shaped my style and ambitions. It is what I aspire to be.

[shywitchyfangirl]

Tips for Beginning Spirit Workers!

Me? Posting something useful instead of just memes? GASP!

1. Plan communication and housing methods in advance. This is your responsibility, not the spirits’. Housing can include binding them to an object, binding them to yourself, letting them wander your house, or (my personal method) building an astral temple for them. Communication can take all kinds of forms, including dreams, hallucinations, Ouija boards, body sensations, intrusive thoughts, and telepathy. When starting out, you’ll probably be working with sensations and intrusive thoughts, and work your way up to other forms. An important thing to remember is if you’re ever unsure if something was them, assume it was. False negatives do far more harm than false positives when you’re trying to learn how to communicate. Assuming your spirit said something they didn’t might annoy them, but denying real messages will prevent you from developing your senses and harm your relationship with them.

2. Set boundaries and keep them! It doesn’t matter who they are, how powerful they are, or if they’re a literal god. You have rights, and they do not own you. Take no excuses, make no compromises. You don’t need to explain anything. If you give some spirits an inch, they’ll take a mile. I have a rule that no one can possess me while I’m on my period. Why? Because I don’t want them to, end of discussion. If anyone throws a fit about your boundaries, you don’t want to work with them anyway. If you’re planning to let them stick around, setting house rules is also very important! (”Don’t mess with the other human residents” is always a good starting point.)

3. Doubt happens. Even the most experienced spirit worker has moments of “Oh gods, I’m just crazy and talking to myself.” Don’t beat yourself up over it! Healthy skepticism is what keeps us sane. It doesn’t mean you’re a bad spirit worker. Try taking a moment to reflect on the times when your spirits did something that proved themselves to you, because I promise, those moments will happen too! One of my earliest moments was when a spirit possessed my and drew a bunch of dicks in my notebook before I even realized what she was drawing. If you haven’t had one of those moments yet, just remember the golden rule: You can’t be imagining it, because your imagination should never surprise you.

3.5 Know your craft, not others’. Related to the above, a big source of doubt is when you read about other spirit workers’ doing things differently. Remember, the term UPG (Unverified Personal Gnosis) exists for a reason. Your Mileage May Vary! Every spirit worker experiences spirits differently. Different doesn’t mean wrong. Figure out what’s best for you and your spirits, and have confidence in your craft.

4. Don’t trust just anyone. Not every spirit you contact will be on your side. Some have their own agenda, others just want a plaything. Some spirits will pretend to be someone else to get past your defenses. The best way to stay safe is to always trust your instincts. If a spirit gives you a “bad vibe,” DITCH THEM. Never give them the benefit of the doubt. There is not a single spirit you NEED to have in your life, and thus there’s no reason to give a sketchy spirit a chance. Aside from that, don’t just assume any spirit you contact will be friendly and benevolent. Most spirit workers go through a “vetting” period of at least 3 months before deciding if a spirit is truly good to join their team. Yes, THREE MONTHS. You don’t want to allow just any powerful astral being into your life, do you? Remember, spirits have power, and they CAN hurt you. If you wouldn’t allow any random stranger into your house, don’t allow any random spirit into your life.

5. Do your research! Spirits aren’t human, and they don’t have the same wants and needs as humans. Research in advance what the particular species you’re summoning wants and needs. If they’re from a pop culture series, research the series. Research their friends, family, and enemies. Know who they will or won’t work well with. If they’re a nonhuman character, pay special attention to their species’ attributes, such as behavior, communication, and any unusual needs or weaknesses. You are responsible for your spirits’ safety while they’re with you! Remember, there’s no such thing as knowing too much. The more you know, the better prepared you’ll be!

6. Respect their boundaries. Not every spirit wants to be worshipped, especially pop culture ones. Some find it flattering, others find it creepy. Similarly, not every spirit wants to be your best friend forever, and not every spirit is eagerly waiting for your call every second of every day. Spirits may be cool, but don’t be a stalker. Give them some dang space. Also accept that many spirits don’t plan to stay with you forever. There may be a few that will be with you until you die (or even follow you to your next life!) but the vast majority have lives outside of you just like humans do, and there will be a time when you don’t need them or vice versa. Don’t feel bad about them leaving, and don’t try to force them to stay. Spirits come and go, and it does not mean you’re a bad spirit worker if you lose a few allies. Your closest friends will be the ones who choose you, and those are the ones you really want in your inner circle.

7. Don’t call up what you can’t put down. Always always ALWAYS have a banishing spell ready, and be sure to start small. Practice with a simple Pikachu before you go summoning Arceus. And keep that banishing spell handy during the vetting period! Many spirit workers suggest doing a banishing spell after every summoning unless you plan on letting the spirit stay permanently. It’s also always a good idea to have some kind of restraint the first few times you call on a spirit, even if it’s just a circle of salt. Personally I like to keep one of my stronger spirit family members around to babysit the new guys.

8. Always stay protected. Shield spells are your best friends. Use them. Keep them updated. There is never a reason to not be shielded. There is also never a reason to not have your house protected. At least once a month, update your wards, cleanse and banish everything, and recharge your home’s energy. Don’t worry, you can set your wards to whitelist your approved spirit family and any specific spirits you want to lure in, but it’s best to not allow just anyone in off the street. Consider placing sigils around to mark your territory as your own, or you may find someone or something trying to move in and claim your house for themselves! 

9. Know the facts about spirit attacks. The first rule is that you’re probably NOT being attacked. If you have to think “Was that a spirit? Am I being attacked?” you’re definitely not being attacked. Spirits are empowered by your fear, they WANT you to know they’re attacking you. One time when I was attacked, the spirit broke my rainbow fountain right in front of me in a way that made both separate lights simultaneously only glow blood red. That doesn’t just happen. And then they immediately and obviously tried to pull me out of my body so they could take it over. The other two times, the spirits tried so hard to suck me out of my body that it made me disoriented and felt like someone was vacuuming my head while my body felt cold. Spirit attacks are always obvious because they’re trying to scare you. Which leads to the second rule: NEVER PANIC. The more afraid you are, the more power they have over you. Stay calm, put up a shield, call a trusted alley to aid you, and banish their ass to next week. Remember, most spirits who attack are just bullies looking for a new toy to torment. Even a simple “fuck off” can give them the message you’re not worth the trouble.

10. Be prepared before opening up to possession. Possession is real, and it can be dangerous. With a trusted ally, it’s tons of fun, and you can even ask them to handle things like chores for you. With literally anyone else, you’re putting your life at risk. There is nothing stopping a strong enough spirit from throwing you off the nearest bridge. The good news is that forced, full possession is rare. The bad news is it can still happen, and it’s very hard to stop when it does. This is why it’s so important to vet your spirit allies before allowing them close to you, ESPECIALLY before letting them possess you. If a spirit shows any sign of not respecting your boundaries, get them the hell out of your life. Luckily, partial possession is much more common (when you’re still in control but either being influenced, or only your limbs are moving without your input). This version can be fought off via internal struggle or countered with a cleansing spell or an ally’s help.

11. Get creative with offerings. Offerings are Spiritwork 101. You won’t be getting a lot of help from spirits if you don’t pay them back. But the important part is knowing exactly what to give them. There are certainly things that are standard, and things that are easy enough to guess (Moon water for the moon goddess, flowers for the nature spirit, etc.) But the best offerings are ones that are personal, creative, and meaningful. Your fairy friend probably has a thousand flowers, but have they tried your pancakes? Would your familiar like a friendship bracelet in their favorite color? Hell, does your ancient ancestor want to try Starbucks? Also note that offerings can be experiences, not just gifts. Some spirits love to hear new music. Jevil loves to possess me and play games, or even just watch me play them. And Seam likes to be cuddled while he possesses a body pillow, or to be read to. The better you get to know your spirit friends, the more ways you’ll find to make them happy.

12. Recognize a spirit calling, but don’t answer them all. As you progress in spirit work, you’ll start receiving “spirit callings”. Callings are different for everyone, but they’re generally feelings of obsession over a certain spirit. You may find yourself thinking “everything would be okay if X was here” when you’re having a bad day. You may find yourself wanting to know everything about them. You might notice signs of them, such as feathers if they have wings.  If it’s a pop culture spirit, you may start obsessively tracking down fanworks of them. If you can’t get a spirit out of your mind, you’re probably being called! This means that good things could happen if you work with this spirit (though it does NOT mean the relationship will last forever!). However, this doesn’t mean you should answer ever single calling. It’s always important to know your limits. If you already have lots of spirits hanging around, adding one more won’t benefit you or them, no matter how strongly you’re called to them. Remember, there will always be another calling. 

13. Know your limits. Speaking of which, remember that you’re responsible for your spirits, and you should never take on more than you can handle. Spirit hoarding is a real thing, and it’s harmful to everyone involved. Know how many spirits you can handle at once, and know how close you can get to each of them. My astral temple is designed to let dozens of spirits come and go as they please, but of those, I’m only comfortable getting truly close to exactly two at a time. There is no shame in letting a spirit you no longer need go before bringing in a new one. There is also no shame in not being perfect. If you need some space for a few days, take it. If all you can muster today is a halfhearted “hello” to your familiar, do it. Your spirit allies will always be there waiting once you’re feeling better. If they’re true allies, they’ll understand if you’re not feeling well and need some time to yourself.

[scrawnydutchman]

Smash Bros. Ultimate DLC: A Recap and Review

Well gang . . . . the time has finally come. The final Smash Bros. Ultimate DLC has been confirmed and is coming soon. There will be no major updates for Smash Bros. after this beyond maybe some patches and bug fixes. Before I go into what this post is about, I want to take a quick moment to give respect to Mr. Sakurai for all the incredible work and dedication he has shown for this franchise. Regardless of how you feel about any of the entries, nobody can deny Sakurai’s love and commitment to his work and it was his drive that drove him to legendary status as a game director. His work is no small feat. He created the single largest and most ambitious crossover property ever conceived. He also created a video game loved by millions. A game that is not only a blast to play on it’s own, but introduced many franchises to gamers like myself whom may not have given those things a try if not for Sakurai educating us on them. So Sakurai, this one is for you sir. Enjoy your vacation.

So allow me to ask a controversial question . . . what makes a good DLC fighter for smash bros? Seems like every character no matter who it is sees SOME sort of backlash eventually. Anybody who’s been a part of the community is aware of the memes and the arguments. “too many sword characters” “too many fire emblem characters” “Banjo hasn’t been relevant in decades” “Who asked for Minecraft Steve?” “what the fuck is Xenoblade?”. It’s all been said before. Many might say that a good DLC fighter is purely subjective. After all, SOMEBODY out there is getting their favorite character in the game regardless of who you pick, so why be a spoil sport?

Well . . .  .what if I told you I can measure the quality of each smash DLC through an objective, impartial scale? I can feel some gawking at the assertion already, but I’m serious. What if I could give an evaluation of each fighter that has nothing to do with my personal attachment to their franchises or their playstyles?

Here are the ground rules. A smash DLC fighter gets 1 point for each of the following 4 criteria it meets:

1. It’s a yet-to-be represented or under represented IP. Smash is first and foremost a crossover game, so the more representation of franchises the better.

2. It’s an impressive get copyright wise. Some characters are more difficult to acquire for the game than others for legal reasons, so their inclusion at all is something to behold. A character meets this standard if it’s either a brand new company being represented or if it’s from a company that’s known for being stingy with it’s IP representation (looking at you Square Enix).

3. It’s a highly requested character. Pretty self explanatory.

4. It’s fun to play as. Now, this one is especially tricky because whether or not a character in a game is “fun” is as subjective as subjective gets, so I’m gonna tweak the definition a bit. Rather than whether or not I personally have fun with it, I’m gonna judge it based on how faithful their moveset is to their game and how innovative their kit is for Smash as a whole (whether it does unprecedented things and is ultra unique to that character). This way I can evaluate based on who would likely play that character the most (a fan of the franchise that character came from).

As a result of this criteria, every character will be evaluated on a scale of 0 to 4. 0 being it doesn’t meet any of these standards and therefore sucks and 4 meaning it hits ALL of them and is therefore as good as DLC gets. Okay? Okay. Let’s go.

1. Piranha Plant

The very first DLC of the game is also the only outlier to the criteria I just set up. I decided it cannot be evaluated on the same level as the rest of the DLC. For one simple reason . . . it’s free. It’s free DLC that was released just for the lulz and bares no consequence of any kind to anyone so . . . this one goes into it’s very own “meh” category.

2. Joker

Okay, now let’s get into the actual fighter passes. Joker is the very first paid DLC fighter of the roster this time around and he’s an immediately interesting choice. While I don’t believe he’s particularly highly requested, he’s certainly a welcome surprise. He’s representation for a yet to be rep’d franchise (+1 point) and he’s an impressive feat as NOBODY expected a character like this to appear in smash (+1 point). His moveset is faithful to his games and he has a meter that’s unique to him, so I suppose he breaks the mold enough to earn that last one (+1 point).

Joker’s score: 3 out of 4.

3. The Hero

Now, I have to admit that when I first saw this DLC announced I did not immediately understand the significance of him. I was not familiar with Dragon Quest up until this game. But now that i’ve been more educated, not only is this a major contribution for the Japanese player base, BUT Dragon Quest plays an instrumental role in gaming history as one of the original RPGS. So give him a point for unrepresented game (+1 point). I would also consider him an impressive grab since it’s a Square Enix IP and Square has been notably stingy about allowing others to use their IP in the past, ESPECIALLY Nintendo after a particularly rocky history between companies. So that’s another point (+1 point). Now, I don’t think he was particularly highly requested as I haven’t seen him in any lists (and haven’t heard of him at all up until this point) so for now i’m not gonna give him that point but i may come back and make an edit if someone can provide a citation. Gameplay wise the most dramatic things Hero brings are his magic meter and his RNG down B. Sort of fun in a fucking around type of way AND true to his character. Plus no other character has anything like that. So I’ll give him that point (+1 point).

The Hero’s score: 3 out of 4.

4. Banjo & Kazooie

Alright. Goes without saying that this is easily one of the most requested characters in the game’s history AND it’s a very impressive grab to boot. Making a deal like this with rare and microsoft is no small feat. points for both (+2 points). It’s also a not-yet-represented IP so point for that as well (+1 point). As for gameplay, while it’s true that Banjo’s moveset is VERY faithful to the games, it’s unfortunately widely known to not be that exciting for a DLC character. See, most DLC fighters have some sort of mind blowing gimmick to them like a meter or an extra ability or a way they interact with the world. The closest thing Banjo has is his limited use of Wonder Wing, which unfortunately is more of a handicap than anything. I’m afraid I can’t give him this point. Such a shame, too. This was SO CLOSE to a perfect DLC character.

Banjo & Kazooie’s score: 3 out of 4.

5. Terry Bogard

Now, in spite of not necessarily being a highly requested character, Terry has a lot going for him. Not yet represented IP (+1 point), Impressive grab since this is SNK’s first and only rep (+1 point) and most of all his fighting game moveset is IMPRESSIVELY mapped to the smash bros layout. The KoF inputs are there and the character really rewards you for being familiar with how that game is played. Kudos! (+1 point).

Terry’s score: 3 out of 4.

6. Byleth

Okay . . . I don’t have a lot of faith for this character. You already know where this is going. For one, DEFINITELY not an underrepresented franchise (this is the 8th Fire Emblem character to be featured). Certainly not an impressive feat copyright wise since it’s a Nintendo property (and, again, a very much represented one at that). Not a highly requested character by any means. It’s last chance for a point is it’s gameplay . . .which I would argue doesn’t deviate much from what plenty of characters in the game already do. This character is just more of the same.

Byleth’s score: 0 out of 4

7. Min Min

Min Min is a bit of a mixed bag. On one hand, it IS a yet to be represented franchise, so as per my criteria that deserves a point (+1 point). She’s also very innovative gameplay wise as her moves are more about mapping the two hit buttons to each of her arms(+1 point). Unfortunately that’s where the points end. She’s not a highly requested character and she’s not an impressive grab copyright wise as she’s a Nintendo IP.

Min Min’s rating: 2 out of 4.

8. Steve

Remember when Steve’s inclusion literally shut down Twitter? I sure do. Definitely one of the most befuddling entries in Smash history . . .but that does NOT make him a bad choice. Definitely a yet to be represented franchise (+1 point) and a VERY impressive get copyright wise (another retrieval from Microsoft). It also technically is a highly requested character . . . granted one might argue those requests were more just a meme than anything else, but i mean . . if he wasn’t requested he wouldn’t be here at all so . . (+1 point). As for gameplay? Well, Steve is definitely unique. So unique that for his patch EVERY STAGE IN THE GAME had to be restructured to match his mining gimmick. That . . . is crazy. so that’s another point (+1 point). Holy shit . . . I think Steve might be the perfect DLC pick.

Steve’s score: 4 out of 4.

9. Sephiroth

Sephiroth was an ENORMOUS shock to be sure. Not at all predictable, but VERY welcome. He may not be a highly requested character, but he’s one of those characters you didn’t know you needed. He definitely gets a point for increasing rep for an under represented franchise (+1 point) and thank you for introducing much more Final Fantasy music to the game. He’s also a VERY impressive get copyright wise. Final Fantasy representation is hard to get enough, but Sephiroth himself is a copyright nightmare as Sakurai laid out in his showcase. (+1 point). Gameplay wise Sephiroth is interesting. His gimmick is similar to Terry’s but distinct in the bonuses it gives him, and he officially breaks the record for sword character with longest reach. I’d say he deserves a point (+1 point).

Sephiroth’s score: 3 out of 4.

10. Pyra/Mythra

Now I must admit, I was disappointed by this entry and still kind of am. However, that’s my bias talking. If I’m to be fair I should evaluate her based on the criteria. For starters, Xenoblade has only one other rep besides her in the whole game. So she gets a point for increasing rep for an under represented IP (+1 point). She’s also pretty highly requested as I understand it (which surprises me because I literally did not know who these ladies were until this reveal but fair is fair) (+1 point). As for being an impressive grab copyright wise . . . not really? It’s another Nintendo IP. Gameplay wise she doesn’t really do anything new. Basic sword character stuff and a stance switch.

Pyra/Mythra’s score: 2 out of 4

11. Kazuya

In contrast to my personal bias against Pyra/Mythra, I had the complete opposite response to Kazuya. I was PUMPED to have him in the game because I love Tekken to death. But even I have to admit he wasn’t a highly requested character so no point for him on that front. It IS a yet to be repped franchise though (+1 point) AND I would consider it an impressive grab copyright wise as this is the only Namco rep besides Pac Man. It’s always super impressive to get a third party character. (+1 point). As for gameplay .  this dude is the ultimate example of how to map fighting game controls to smash’s layout. EVERYTHING Kazuya can do in the tekken series he can do in smash. he has direcitonal inputs and true combo potential . . it’s fucking awesome. defs deserves a point for that. (+1 point).

Kazuya’s score: 3 out of 4

12. Sora

At last, the final DLC fighter is here. May I say . . I can’t think of a better way to go out. This is the single most requested character ever. You know it. I know it. That’s a point (+1 point). It also goes without saying that this is an ULTRA impressive grab copyright wise. So impressive many touted it’s impossibility for over a decade (myself included). (+1 point). It’s a yet to be represented franchise (+1 point). Finally his gameplay . . .well, he hasn’t been released yet so whether or not I personally find him fun will remain to be seen. But I will say, in spite of being another sword character and subscribing to some of those conventions, they were VERY clever with how to map his projectiles as well as how to optimize his aerial combo potential in a way no other sword character can match. That deserves a point. (+1 point).

Sora’s score: 4 out of 4.

So there you have it. My rankings of each smash DLC based on the criteria set above. This isn’t to convince anyone that they’re wrong for playing who they play or liking who they like. I just thought it’d be a fun experiment to judge each entry based on the number one things people consider for every character. I can’t wait for Sora to come out and I can’t wait to continue enjoying this game in it’s completed form.

4 out of 4: Steve, Sora

3 out of 4: Joker, Hero, Banjo, Terry, Sephiroth, Kazuya

2 out of 4: Min Min, Pyra/Mythra

1 out of 4:

0 out of 4: Byleth

omitted for being free: Piranha Plant

[stellocchia]

This is part 4 of the Comprehensive Analysis of c!Tommy and c!Dream’s relationship during the Exile Arc

Part 1 -  Part 2 -  Part 3

We’re here once more just to suffer... though be fair I did decide to do this to myself, so I can’t really complain there...

As always under the cut we will be exclusively be talking about the characters unless stated otherwise and we will be talking about some serious topics, so keep that in mind

We’re starting this off with the infamous Beach Party stream: Tommy Is Left ALONE at his Exile Party with Dream

Now, quick introduction to this vod, since we find out about some details later on: no-one, aside from Dream, shows up because Dream destroyed the invitations and also Ghostbur won’t be around any longer because Dream sent him away (knowing fully well that that could have killed him since he already heard directly from Ghostbur that rain melted him). 

Basically at this point Dream is taking a step further into the manipulation process by not only making everyone else believe that Tommy didn’t want to see them but by also physically ensure they’d believe that. Also Tommy doesn’t start this one drowning either (perhaps because he was in high spirits the day prior?)

*creeper blows up* “Shit shit shit shit (...) I’m stupid I’m stupid I deserve that I deserve that. No no no no I didn’t I didn’t, today is gonna be a good day, today is gonna be a big day” (first response to anything negative has become taking on the blame, which we see later on with the Community House situation)

“Will Tubbo be there? Maybe! Myabe he will! Maybe he will!” (Tommy still very much missing his best friend)

“He [Tubbo] did boot me out... no no! you know what? I’m in the mood to reconcile!” (a big trait of Tommy’s has always been his loyalty to people, no matter how much they hurt him)

“It was definitely 8 pm GMT, 8 pm G-” *Dream joins the game* *Tommy pauses for a few moments on the Nether bridge completely still and then turns back* (I want to point out that the reaction any time Dream joined was one of absolute fear, for good reasons of course)

One thing that I’ve noticed is that Dream rarely comes from the Nether when visiting Tommy, opting instead for the objectively longer route through the water, which honestly seems to reinforce something he said early on, which was basically that even with the longer route it doesn’t take much effort to visit, and yet Dream is the only one willing to make that effort.

“Hello!” “H-hello?” “Hi!” “Hi ho-” “Where is everyone else?” “Oh... I don’t- I don’t know...” “I’m running a little late, I’m sorry” 

Considering that we know that Dream was in fact the one who sabotaged the invites, therefore meaning he knew fully well that nobody would be there, does the fact that he came late seem like he really wanted Tommy to stew in his own loneliness for a while to anyone else? You know, to properly break his spirit. Also Tommy immediately after this goes to take off his armour (Tommy Slippers included) and weapons, but this is the one time Dream lets him keep it (which, once again, he’ll use as a point against him later on). 

“Wilbur sent out the invites, didn’t he?” “Yeah, yeah no he sent them to everybody. He actually told Tubbo to his- like, he told him, he didn’t even need to give him an invite” “Really?!” “Yeah” (just want to point out that this is in fact not gaslighting, as some people seemed to think at the time, but it is still manipulation)

“I’m sure they said they’d be here by the day-” *watching the sun go down* “Time...” “I- I thought I was late so I’m surprised people aren’t here, but...” (turns out Dream was around 15 minutes late supposedly)

Tommy at this point takes out the cake, but he doesn’t eat any. I do think this is a good time to point out that the further we are into the exile the less we actually see Tommy eating (sometimes he straight up throws away any food he has in the inventory). He also sleeps less and less (or, at least, rests less, after all sleeping doesn’t necessarily mean being well rested afterwards) which we can deduce both from his comments on the subject and his rapidly deteriorating state. 

“Dream, no-one’s here” “I don’t know why... guess I’m most surprised Tubbo isn’t ‘cause he said he was gonna be, but-” (once again harping on to the retoric that Tubbo specifically willingly abandoned Tommy)

“I figured, I mean I figured you’d probably care the least if I was here so I just- I didn’t mind being a little bit late because everyone else would be here, but...” (once again the idea here is: “even if I was late I still came, no-one else did”)

“No-one cares about me anymore!” “That’s not true...” “No-one cares about me!” *Tommy takes his armour off again* “Tommy...” “No-one cares- no-one cares about me!” *Tommy destroys the rest of the cake* “No no no *sigh*” “No-one cares, do they? No-one showed up to my party... and it was the one thing, THE ONE THING they had to do for me after exiling me and fucking me over and not one of them came with me. And... none of them care about me anymore... ‘cause I’m not in L’manburg anymore, ‘cause I’m not with- ‘cause I’m not the vice-president”

Okay, that was a long quote, but 2 things I want to point out here: Tommy had about half of his health here, he refused to eat, take of his armour and marched towards the Nether, which is again him acting with no regard for his own self-preservation. And also there is a bit of Wilbur retoric sprinkled in there, with the whole “people only care about you when you have power” mentality. That’s exactly what Wilbur tried to convince him of in the Pogtopia era and it looks like he’s seeing a confirmation of this through the party. 

“If no-one is gonna put in any effort to come and see me, than I’ll make the effort harder to come and see me then, alright?” 

At this point Tommy has borrowed Dream’s netherite pickaxe and he proceeds to destroy a chunk of the bridge he’s made in the Nether, swapping it out for a one block wide wooden bridge. Of course, it goes without saying that he is not acting rationally, he is hurt and angry at the moment and he wants to convince himself that if others don’t care about him then he won’t care about them, which is why he starts lashing out more after this. And this is the result of Dream’s direct actions by the way.

“What is everyone saying about Tubbo’s compass? What is that? What is it? Explain to me” “I- uh I’m pretty sure that he burned it or something... or he lost it, something like that” “Wha...?” “He doesn’t have it anymore”

Tommy, up until now, didn’t even fully believed that Tubbo had a compass, but with the official confirmation of it being paired with Tubbo possibly willingly burn it, it’s the last straw for Tommy who decides to do the same. Though he doesn’t end up actually burning it, he does goes to take it out of the enderchest and bring it to the Nether. I do want to point out that Tubbo did not, in fact, either loose it or burn it willingly. It was blown up by accident in a creeper explosion.

*Tommy holding his compass over a sea of lava* “He burnt it? On purpose?” “I- I think so” “You know what, wou know what? Y- you know what?!” “Why don’t you- why don’t you sleep on it Tommy? Just wait don’t do anything, you know? Anything you can’t take back and then...” “I don’t sleep anymore Dream...”

Pretty sad scene... also a confirmation of what we said before about Tommy sleeping less and less. Also I’m not entirely sure why Dream was suddenly against Tommy burning the compass when he didn’t seem to be at the start, though it could be because Tommy was so obviously hesitant about it, so he probably wouldn’t have done it either way. Which means that it was a good moment to get friendship points. 

*Tommy standing in front of the portal in the main Nether hub* “I just want to go home... please can I go home...?” “Uhm, do you wanna see the Christmas tree for, like, 10 seconds?” “Can I stay?” “You can’t stay, but you can go look at it, I’ll let you out-” “Why can’t I stay?” “It’s not like they want you anyway Tommy” “wha...?” “Tommy, no-one showed up to your party and everyone was invited. Do you want to see the Christmas tree?” “I’ll just go back...”

This is the one single scene that is capable of making me emotional every single time. Just Tommy’s broken and small voice throughout it is something else... also Dream’s absolutely smug tone in all of it. But, the one thing, aside from the great acting, that I want to point out in all of this is how the reason for why Tommy can’t go back now has shifted from Dream killing him if he does to his old friends not wanting him around any longer. This way Dream gets to fully play the part of the magnanimous friend who still cares while everyone else is depicted as the enemy. Also I do find it interesting that in this scene Dream keeps insisting quite a bit for Tommy to go see the tree (in contrast to the first time where he refused for him to go back even for a few seconds), which almost looks like him testing how effective his conditioning was.

“That guy is gonna kill me, the little guy” *pointing at a baby piglin* “Oh” *Dream proceeds to get rid of it* (Tommy is by now basically dependent on Dream for his own safety)

“Do you need food?” “*sigh* No” (Tommy is literally on 3 hearts with 3 1/2 hunger bars and he is still refusing to eat)

They spend quite a bit of time after this by playing with Dream’s riptide trident and later also with the throwing one. Also Tommy changes his “girlfriend” hot girl for HOTTER girl (because I know you all deeply care for this kind of updates)

“I actually didn’t have a trident before and it took forever to come here, so I got a trident to come here quickly” “Oh thank you! You obviously care about me Dream” (Tommy feeling compelled to thank Dream for literally anything paired with Dream constantly showing off how much effort he is willing to put in)

“Let’s make a guest tent, let’s make a guest tent!” “That’s a... great idea” “In case any guest wanna- I mean maybe even- maybe you- we’ll make it here. It- it needs to be close to me because I’m- I’m really missing contact” (on top of everything else, Tommy was also canonically touch starved)

Dream and Tommy also make a guest tent together (and it’s implied a few times that maybe Dream will use it) before playing with tridents a bit more when it starts raining. Also Tommy builds a cobblestone smartphone were he keeps snapchat streaks with girls (this goes in the list of sentences I never thought I’d type). 

“Hey thanks for letting me keep my armour today” “You’re welcome” “It was nice of you” “I just thought it’d be good for the party and everything” “I’m sorry it wasn’t that much of a party in the end” “Eh, we make it a party together, so” “Yeah”

So, once more I want to point out a couple of things: there is no reason, aside from Dream’s conditioning, for Tommy to feel grateful that Dream didn’t take away his means to defend himself, nor is there any reason for Tommy to be the one apologizing for the party turning out the way it did. But also one other thing I want to point out is Dream’s insistence over them having fun together, which he keeps saying even later on during the prison visits. And I want to point that out because I do really think that Dream believes that or that he, at the very least, does try to convince himself of it. I’m still not entirely sure on that point, but, by now, I’m fairly sure that Dream really does believe that him and Tommy are his warped and toxic version of what “friends” would be...

“I should have died and then- and then I didn’t! I should have died...” (suicidal thoughts)

*Tommy reaching the maximum height with the trident* “I’m alone...” (just a very famous scene here, but also keeping to the theme of loneliness even when other people are around, in this case Dream)

“Just- just build a guest tent Dream! You’re probably gonna be the one who stays in the most so... since you’re my guest” 

*Dream standing inside the guest tent* “I’m in- I’m in my tent my tent” (the implications I mentioned before)

“Maybe I’m just gonna stay here, maybe I’m just gonna live here instead” (referring always to the guest tent and Logstedshire)

This all ends with Dream gifting Tommy the throwing trident (which he then puts in his enderchest) and Tommy also gains a zombie head from their mob hunting.

“Let me keep the other trident please” “What the one that you can throw?” “Yeah” “Okay Tommy, I’ll let you keep it” “Really?” “Yeah, as a gift, a beach party gift. You can remember our bonding experience from today” “Awww, thank you” (this is the conversation as a frame of reference)

“Listen Dream, what do we do now, then? If no-one is gonna come and visit me, what do I do?” “Nah, I’m visiting you!” (Dream really is convinced to me as much the center of Tommy’s universe as he is of his, huh?)

“Dream, as much as I’m feeling happy, I’m not. I’m not Dream. Where do we go from here?” “Uhm, I think that you will come around to liking it here, and you’ll build up your own ‘empire’ here, and you’ll be happy and maybe they’ll come and visit you- like you said! You said the thing about all, like, power right? You have no power and now they don’t visit you, maybe you’ll be- you’ll be back in power and then they’ll...” “I’ll always be exiled” “Yeah but that doesn’t mean you can’t become powerful, you can become powerful away from- away from them”

This is the closing conversation, that ends with Tommy entering the sea and disconnecting once he is on only one bubble of air left. Which, by the way, is a case of Tommy dissociating, which we know because he always later seems confused when logging in and finding himself in the water (meaning the confrontation with Jack at the hotel wasn’t the first case of him dissociating).

Also, while Dream is spewing all of this stuff about how “Tommy can still be powerful here” it’s obvious that that’s not the case. Tommy is not allowed armour or weapons and he is basically not allowed any allies��(what with Dream sending Ghostbur away, intercepting Ranboo’s mail and making sure to keep away from Tommy as much as possible). Tommy is quite literally stuck in a position of powerlessness that he cannot escape from with someone who actually enjoys having him at his weakest.

I’ll leave it here for today, because this was literally one of the most intense streams so I had quite a lot to say and this became so damn long... I’ll probably condense the next two together.

[keltonwrites]

Where no one knows your name

How many times is a person meant to make new friends? When I moved into an apartment in DC with an absolutely iconic girl from Craigslist, I wrote in my journal, “you never know when you’ll meet your next bridesmaid.” Charmingly juvenile, as I was 24 years old. Ironic, as I never had any bridesmaids. And embarrassing, knowing I wrote something that’s surely been embroidered on a bachelorette party t-shirt by now. My point was: you can meet people you fall in love with anywhere, anytime, assuming your heart (and calendar) are open. Now my heart and calendar are open and I am one of Elizabeth Bennet’s sad sisters, cloying and desperate for attention while everyone at the ball ignores me. Meeting people here is unnerving and hapless and eye-clawingly vulnerable. My first new friend told me she was moving away in a few months. Do you invest deeply in hopes of another faraway friendship? Do you just go back to waving as you pass on the street? I like this girl! What an embarrassing thing to have to say to someone! Do you just invite people to every and anything like a lunatic? I can’t even remember to call the people I am forever-and-ever in cahoots with. I’m also deeply bound by what I’ll call the Movie Trap: say it’s 3pm during not-a-pandemic, and you get the urge to see a movie. You look at the showings, and there’s one you really want to see at 7:15. You think to yourself, “I should make an effort,” and you text a friend. “Hey, you wanna go see This Cool Movie at 7:15 tonight?” No one ever says yes. Don’t give me an example of when someone has, because it’s always one of these answers:

“Oooh, I’m actually seeing it with Kate tomorrow - wanna come?”

“Can we go to the 9pm showing? Stuck at work.”

“Yeah but let’s see Movie You’ll Fucking Hate instead.”

Now maybe I’m just lighting flares guiding you to the worst parts of my personality, but this drives me nuts. No, Liz, I don’t want to go tomorrow. I want to go tonight. At 7:15. So I can be in bed by 10. And you’d have to drag my dead body and prop open my eyes to get me to see something like Marriage Story in theaters. The Movie Trap is a big reason I usually hang out by myself, or I make plans weeks in advance. (Don't I sound like a blast.) Just the idea of being like, “I like you! Wanna hang out in October?” makes me want to collapse into a puddle of sad adulthood. Which is why on Friday at 4:30pm, when a girl I’d met a week prior asked if I wanted to grab a drink, I just said yes. I put on a pretty dress, did my makeup, put stuff in a purse, and drove the 25 minutes to town. It was really fun! And how novel to have new contacts in my phone like “Maggie blue house” and “Jess concert friend” — a throwback to the days of “Greg guy on L train” and “Devon ad party.” The very concept of not knowing someone’s last name or even needing it, and a year from now updating their contact info and smiling at your origin story. But for the most part, no one is in our phones. In terms of phone numbers collected, here is the list:

Two friends we knew prior who thank god you guys exist.

New friend who is moving away.

New friend who is game to drink tequila and ride mountain bikes.

Neighbor-not-yet-friend who I really fucking like and am not sure how to cross hang-out threshold with.

​Not to say there aren’t any other prospects or people I’m platonically gaga over, but I don’t have their phone numbers. There are honestly a lot of people like this because when you live in a small town (and you’re from the Midwest) you say “oop, sorry” to every person/object you bump into, and you say “hi :)” to every person you see. These are the rules. If I drive by you and don’t wave, it’s because I was so deep in a daydream I probably shouldn’t have been driving in the first place. This isn’t acceptable, because in our urgency to tattoo our vaccination status on our foreheads so we can make friends, it turns out just driving by someone can be a viable strategy. A few days ago, a man was driving by our kitchen window and then our driveway, and then he reversed back up to the kitchen window and started waving. Ben went outside — it was that kind of wave. The man had seen from his car a smokejumper emblem on the back of a truck in our driveway. “Hey, are you a smokejumper?” We aren’t. But my dad was, and he was in town visiting, accompanied by the emblem on the back of his truck. The guy said we should drink sometime. Numbers were not exchanged. We’ll call that a node, because it’s not quite a connection. And it’s mainly nodes, waiting to be connected, to have relevance. But first, no matter who you’re trying to befriend, you have to answer everyone else’s Do I Care Quiz. The quiz is employed by 93% of locals to determine how they feel about you existing within their personal 50-mile radius. The first question is non negotiable:

1) Are you visiting?

Variations on this question include “how long are you in town?” or “what brings y’all to town?” or my least favorite and most insulting, “did you just finish Jeeping?” I know I have blonde hair and say y’all, but how dare you. (Also, to be clear, you can own a Jeep, customize your Jeep, mod out your Jeep, and love your Jeep, but you’re not Jeeping until you drive too fast through a tiny town so you can hurl your Jeep over a mountain pass without ever getting out of it.) So the answer to “are you visiting” is “no, I live here.” Which brings us to the next question, my favorite for how loaded the gun, kneeling in the grass, scope on, target locked it is.

2) Are you part-time or full-time?

The first time I answered this question, I didn’t realize it was essentially like asking how someone voted in the 2020 election. The judgment was cocked and ready and the palpable relief/joy/or at the very least, tolerance, exuded by answering “full-time” was like when the sun comes out from behind the clouds on a 40 degree day. I was fine, but wow that does feel better. The third question though does not have a standard hoped-for answer. This is where nodes turn to connections turn to phone numbers.

3) What brings you here?

It seems like the best possible answer would be saying you work in town, and you’re going to begin construction on displaced-worker housing to ensure the people who run this town can actually live in it. We’d have everyone’s phone number. Saying you’re a writer who works remotely and bought a house from a legendary and beloved local who could no longer afford it is really something you keep to yourself. But in the interest of making friends, I just word vomit my entire history. We might as well find out at the onset if I make your eyes roll back into your skull. Not at all threatening that all it takes is a single social signal misinterpreted to be the absolute death knell of my ability to make friends in a town of some 1400 adults. In fact, I’ll share one such interaction. I was hiking with Cooper, about 5 miles by foot away from my house. I was on a trail, crossing a sloped meadow, and a group was traversing up the hillside to the trail. I said hi, where y’all coming from. One girl answered and we talked about the trail. She eyed me up and down. “Did you just move here?” “I did!” “I served your family last week,” she said. “Oh,” that phrasing. “Must have been my in-laws.” “Heard you bought Jack’s house. Such a bummer when locals like that are forced out.” “We didn’t even know about his house,” I said. “We were looking at another house and he asked his realtor if he could get us to come see his house. We just loved it, and him!” She had no emotional reaction to this. “You moved from California?” she asked. (Dangerous question.) “Yeah, got these sea level lungs, haha,” attempting to disarm with humor was a failure, “but couldn’t be happier to be out of California.” “It’s not like this all year. Winter’s really hard here, you’re in for a rude awakening.” “Well California’s the last place I lived, but I’m not from there. I’ve lived in brutal winters. At least Colorado gets sun!” I laugh with cloaked loathing. “It’s different when you live at altitude,” she said, like no human aside from her had ever been literally anywhere. “Are you trying to go around?” She indicated the path behind her. “No, y’all go ahead, just gonna wait to give you your space. I’m sure you’re faster than me.” “K, good luck making it to the lake." Maybe she was thirsty. Maybe she was hungover. Maybe she just has vicious delivery, but it felt like every blade of grass was leaning against the wind to listen. She was with four other people and not one of them said a word. I left that interaction not wanting to see another human ever again. But that interaction, and her intimate knowledge of exactly which house I lived in, made me want to decorate like we lived in a gingerbread house, all candy canes and plum drops, screaming to any passerby that we’re friendly. One of the mayor’s first questions to me was “what are you going to do to the house?” There are rules here about what your house can look like, and I kept emphasizing we bought the house because we loved it, not because we wanted to change everything about it. And now, instead of wanting to decorate the interior, I want to put up shades so we don’t contribute to light pollution, I want to hang a sign by the water spigot saying “grab some if you need” for hikers and mountain bikers, I want to paint a sign for the wild mint by our door that says, “I mint to tell you to take some,” because our neighbors were openly panicked they wouldn’t be able to just grab mint from the cabin’s garden anymore. Without question, COVID makes things harder. Dinner parties feel like dares. Dropping cookies off at someone’s house feels invasive. Grabbing a drink feels like the ultimate sign of trust. But at least we have nodes who can connect who can think to invite us and who can see that despite having lived in California, we’re not all that bad. In the meantime, I’ll be painting signs about water and mint, hoping to garner the benefit of the doubt from the so beautifully, earnestly, and waiting-to-see-if-you’re-worth-it doubtful.

Subscribe to the newsletter at tinyletter.com/keltonwrites — high altitude relocation and renovation in a tiny mountain town.

[overheardatthecontinental]

Talk Now Complete

Over the last three months, I have dedicated a huge chunk of my limited free time to writing this piece. What started out as a possible kinktober one-shot was side-tabled as I realized it had potential to be an actual story. Now, twenty chapters and 103,723 words later I am thrilled to say that this installment is complete.

I’ve already begun a second installment of this series which will pick up at the start of John’s retirement. I’m hoping to have the first chapter out within the week.

Thank you so much to everybody who liked, commented, and supported me during this story and a huge thank you to @meetmeinthematinee​ for helping me edit and review this beast.

AO3 Talk Link

Chapter 20 Link

 A new start.

 That was what she had deemed it. For both of them.

 John went around the city. Closing accounts. Transferring mountains of coins into actual money. Saying silent goodbyes to the places that had defined him for a lifetime. And stashing markers, money, and weapons. Just in case.

 He hopes he will never have to use them.

 And, while he does that, Helen packs up her house.

 The decision to move in together came approximately two days after returning from Vermont. They’d wasted enough time, they both decided.      “And,    ” Helen had teased,      “God forbid we decide to spend a night apart, I already know you’ll sneak in to watch me sleep.    ”

 Minx.

     “I’m more than happy to sell my place.”    He had told her.

     “You’ve given up your entire life for me.    ” She had argued, gently running her hand through his hair.      “I’ll give up the house. Besides, if you think I’m giving up your hot tub, you’re fucking dreaming.”  

 And that had been that.

 They’d driven to her house, stopping to pick up boxes and tape and bubble wrap, and started packing up.

         She made some calls around the city, looking for charities to donate some of her furniture to. John’s bed, she had discovered, was far more comfortable than hers. And they didn’t need multiple dining room tables or sets of cookware or dishes.

 John borrowed a truck from Aurelio and, with his and Marcus’ help, started dropping things off across the city.

 In the remaining days of her “recovery”/vacation, they manage to empty most of her little house. And while      their     house (he will never get used to the sheer joy that fills him at that descriptor) is now a mess of boxes and suitcases, it has never felt more like home.

 He laughs at the three boxes of shoes Helen has to unpack, only to have to dodge a high heel used as a projectile.

 He revels in the way she unpacks her sweaters and dresses to hang across from his clothes.

 He also takes a great deal of pleasure when he finds the small box, once hidden away in the back of her closet, containing a number of delightful little toys. He gets another shoe thrown at him as he practically begs for details.

 Helen laughs and offers a private demonstration… once her books are shelved in the library. John scrambles to fulfill her every wish.

 One of the benefits of Helen having her own practice was that she could really do whatever the hell she wanted. She had reached out to all her clients first thing on Monday to apologize for her absence, reporting that she had been the victim in a hit-and-run, leaving her in a coma for the better part of the week. While she was doing much better, she told them, she still needed another week for recovery.

 Of course, the Underworld had bought out half the cops in the city. A quick call from John Wick and shit was being filed      exactly     how he demanded it to be. Doctor’s notes were forged, along with hospital ‘records.’ That part was easy.

 What had been much more complicated, John discovered, was dealing with the missing person’s out on Helen and it throws his world off kilter, yet again.

 Her family had been terrified. While Helen wasn’t exactly in constant contact with them, the police had reached out after a concerned associate of Helen’s reported her missing. Unable to contact her, her parents and sister had been in a frenzy.

 Using the phone that John had paid for, insisting that he buy her a new one since it was his enemy who had destroyed hers, she reluctantly calls her mother.

     “Mom, I am begging you, stay home. I’m fine.”  

     “We’ve been so worried!” John hears her mother sobbing on the other side of the line, “A hit-and-run, oh, sweetheart!”  

 And if      that’s    her mother’s reaction from a hit-and-run, John doesn’t want to know what her mother would do if she ever found out the truth.

 Kidnapped, held hostage, marked for death…

 The poor woman might have a heart attack.

     “You’re still recovering! You need someone to take care of you!”  

     “I have someone taking care of me.”    Helen had said, and at that moment, John had indeed been massaging her shoulders. His lips had twitched in response.

 He was the one taking care of her.

 He would be the one taking care of her forever.

 It made him giddy to think about.

     “Who?”  

They hadn’t discussed labels. It all seemed sort of unnecessary after all they had been through. But when Helen makes the executive decision and says, “my boyfriend” John wonders if he’s the one having a heart attack with the way his own is beating so hard it feels like it might burst at any moment.

 Boyfriend.

 He’d never been a boyfriend before. He’d never had any interest in being a boyfriend before. A term he’d never imagined being applied to him but now that it was…

 He was a boyfriend.

 He was      Helen’s    boyfriend.

 He’s filled with pride and affection and so much love he doesn’t know what to do. She leans into him, reaching up to where his hands have stopped massaging as he attempts to process her words. And because she’s Helen and she knows him better than he knows himself, she squeezes his hand.

 Grounding him.

 But, of course, her confession to her mother opens another avenue of questions.      What boyfriend? How long have you been seeing each other? Why haven’t you mentioned him before?  

 To which Helen answers respectively       his name is John. We met seven months ago. And because who I date and when I decide to share that information is my choice    .

 It’s another half an hour of questioning before Helen manages to talk her way off of the phone after wrangling a promise that her mother would      not     fly to New York. In return, Helen was to send her daily text updates on her health.

 Her sister was another matter. Living only an hour away in Trenton, her sister insisted on driving up. It ended up working well, however. While he had testified without a single problem, John hadn’t had the time to meet with Tarasov.

 So Wednesday, Helen agreed to meet her sister for lunch while John had gone to meet with a mob boss.

 John arrives at Tarasov’s compound and, once again, finds himself subject to stares.

 They had always been there. The Baba Yaga was the focal of fascination for a great many, but most had always tried to hide the attention they paid to the man, the monster. But since Helen’s existence had been made known, he’s found himself front and center everywhere he goes.

 And it had only become worse after being questioned by the High Table on the DeLuca’s and their involvement. While John had repeatedly stated he would not answer questions regarding his relationship with Helen, it didn’t stop the questions from coming.

 During the trial and afterwards, members of the High Table had tried to push. John had given them nothing.

 John is silent as he walks up to Viggo’s office.

 The last tie to sever.

 While Abram was scared enough of John Wick to let him go without a fight, John was certain that Viggo’s ambition would rise to the occasion.

 After all, hadn’t John Wick done the impossible? He had brought down Syndicate and saved the girl with every odd stacked against him.

 And now Viggo wanted a piece of that.

 The impossible.

 And John will do it. Of course, he will do anything if it means being released.

 Retirement is so close he can taste it as he steps into the familiar office, closing the door behind him.

 Viggo Tarasov sits at his desk, setting his paper aside as John takes a seat in front of him.

 “John.” Viggo greets, “I was surprised to hear from you.”

 John inclines his head. Viggo was full of shit.

 Lorenzo had shared with his children that he had released John Wick of his contract following the trial. The rest of the Underworld knew by sundown. John was certain that Viggo was well aware of John’s intentions in this meeting.

 “I’m retiring.�� John says, truly not in the mood for games.

 Viggo nods in response to the news, clearly expecting John’s announcement. “Very few people retire from our world.”

 “Because most are dead long before they reach my age.”

 “I’m older than you.”

 “You have a desk job.” John points out, aware that his status is the only reason he can get away with saying such things to Viggo Tarasov.

 Viggo waves a hand vaguely, “You’ve never had interest in a desk job.”

 “Nor do I now. However, I still intend to live a while longer. In peace.”

 “Peace.” Viggo says, testing the word on his tongue, “That must be a foreign concept to a man like you.”

 A year ago, John would have agreed with him.

 Hell, eight months ago, John would have agreed with him.

 And while his experiences were still limited, he already had a glimpse of peace. In the weekly visits he had paid to Helen’s office. In the quiet of the night as he meditated to each and every intake and exhale of breath.

 Now, John knew peace in the moments before his alarm went off and he held Helen close to him. He knew peace in the way she wrapped herself around him as he made her coffee. He knew peace in the way her head rested on his shoulder or in the soft flips of pages as Helen read by his side. He knew peace in the moments where she held him.

 “I’m aware you hold my contract,” John says, ignoring Viggo’s comment. “I am more than willing to buy it out.”

 A longshot, John knew.

 Viggo tilts his head to the side, like he’s considering it. Yet John knows, from that single action, that Viggo already has something in mind. Something he wants done that only John Wick can manage. John just fucking wishes he’d get to the point instead of treating this like a game.

 “At this time, your contract is not for sale.” Viggo says, “However, there is a task I have in mind. A bit… difficult, to say the least. But, should you complete this for me, I would be more than willing to release you from your contract.”

 There it is.

 “What do you have in mind?”

 “It’s a bit of an impossible task…”

 …

 When John arrives home and he’s relieved to find Helen’s car parked out front. He makes a mental note to install a garage opener in her car as soon as possible.

 John quickly goes inside, not wasting any time. The desire to set eyes on her is overwhelming and he wonders how he managed to      only     see her at night for months on end.

 He’s not certain he can ever again go longer than hours without seeing her, touching her.

 Helen has become an addiction.

 When he doesn’t find her in the living room or the kitchen, he goes upstairs. Sure enough, she is in the library, kneeling in front of a bookcase as her fingers trace over the spines.

 “How was lunch?” He asks and Helen’s lips twitch.

 With anyone else, he might have scared them. Even in his own home, he tends to walk lightly so as not to be noticed. But she’s always had that sixth sense about him. It brings him an absurd amount of happiness to know that she understands and sees him.

 “It was fine.” She reaches a hand up. John takes it and helps tug her back to her feet. “Got a bit of the third degree but I suppose I can’t blame her for being curious, all things considered.”

 On tiptoes, she gives him a quick kiss. “How was Tarasov?”

 “As expected,” John says.

 Helen hums as she looks him over, “Indirect answer.”

 “It could be worse.” John tries again.

 “Now you’re being evasive.”

 She had warned him life would be like this. She’s spent the better part of her life learning to read people and despite being an enigma to most of the world, John Wick is an open book to Helen.

 He can’t bring himself to be upset when they both knew this was exactly how it was going to be.

 “He wants me to complete a rather difficult task.”

 “How dangerous is this going to be?” She asks, folding her arms over her stomach.

 She did that when she was worried, John had noticed. He hates that it’s him causing her such stress but comforts himself with the fact that this will be the last time.

 “Fairly.” Helen’s face is that unique mix of impassive and empathetic that he was used to seeing in her office. He steps forward, catching her chin in his hand and drawing up her face. “I’ll be fine.” He promises.

 She gives him a small smile and nods. She’s scared, he knows. And he is too. He’s never had so much to lose.

 “What does he want?”

 He wants to shake his head and tell her not to worry about it. But he knows exactly how that conversation will go if he tries.

 “There are a few rival Russian gangs that Viggo wants control of.”

 “A few?” Her brows shoot up.

 Maybe he should have phrased that better.

 While he’s unsurprised by Viggo’s demands given the opportunity to manipulate the Baba Yaga, Helen worries. She used to joke that it was her job to worry—that he paid her good money for such. And he would smile and promise to see her next week.

 But things had changed so much since DeLuca.

 She understood a little bit more just what John was capable of. In the moments when she had been in DeLuca’s grasp,      John     had learned a bit more of what he was capable of.

 But in understanding that, she grew more worried. When it came to her, they both knew that he was capable of      anything    .

 And that made him reckless, to a degree.

     “It goes both ways, John.”     She told him when he had first explained what it would take to actually retire, what he might need to do to be released by the Tarasov’s.      “You worry about me constantly, but I worry about you too. Do you really think I would be okay if something happened to you?”  

     “You could move on.”    He had replied,      “I know you would hurt, but you could go on living your life.”  

     “For one of the smartest people I know, you’re an idiot, John. I would be    devastated       if something happened to you, if I lost you.”  

     “It’s different.”  

     “Like hell it is. Do you know how many nights I used to lie awake until you would get to my house because I was so paranoid, so scared that something would happen to you?”    Helen had shaken her head,      “Or that I used to spend my Friday’s in an anxious blur, terrified that one day you just weren’t going to show up. That you’d just… be gone.”  

     “It’s different.    ” John had maintained, “      Hels, you’re—you’re all I have.”  

 And that was just a fact. Without him, Helen would have her family, her friends, her work.

 But without her… what would he be?

 “It will be fine.” He promises, reaching out to tuck a lock of hair back from where it had fallen in her face. It assures him that she is real and safe when his thoughts start to overwhelm him, “This is more of a point-and-shoot kind of gig. Just with a lot of moving targets.”

 An impossible number of moving targets. He forgoes saying as much, still trying to formulate a plan in his mind on how he’s going to pull this off.

 “Is there a timeline?”

 Technically, no. Viggo hadn’t given him any sort of indication of when he wanted it completed, but John was strongly in favor of doing it as quickly as possible. The sooner the task was completed, the sooner he was free.

  And, oh, what a thought that was.

 “Friday.” He answers aloud. Two days away. It would give him the time to prepare, because once he started, he could not stop until he was done.

 She nods, leaning her head against his hand.

 He hates that he is responsible for making her worry. John pulls her into a hug, wrapping her in his arms securely.

 “Come on,” he kisses the top of her head, “Let’s go pack some more of your books to bring over.”

 She brightens visibly at that and they make another trip to her house.

 While Helen desperately needs the distraction, John realizes it’s just as beneficial for him. It reassures him, just as her touch does, that she’s real. That this is actually happening and not just some coma dream, which he felt might be more realistic.

 They spend Thursday much the same way. While he’s tried to tempt Helen to take another week of vacation, she only shakes her head and says,      “It wouldn’t be fair to my clients    .”

 Marcus comes over to help.

 “Helen, if he’s blackmailing you into moving in with him, I can get you help. Blink once.”

 The older assassin dodges multiple projectiles from multiple directions, laughing all the while.

 “I’m serious! You can do better!”

 It’s a joke, and John      knows     that, but he still appreciates the extra affection she shows him. Like she knows that John still lays awake at night, wondering if he was good enough for her. But she slips under his arm, resting against his chest while she shoots back, “Forgive me for not taking advice from a man who’s still in a committed relationship with his daddy issues.”

 He makes a sound of pain even as he grins, “Low blow, Kingston.”

 “Come at my man, I’ll come for your life.”

     My man     echoes around in John’s head for hours after that and Marcus’ teasing was soon forgotten.

 After that declaration, his hands, which were impossibly steady when aiming a gun or striking a blow, were shaky. He had to talk himself through wrapping up her décor so as not to break it.

 They loaded up the borrowed truck, driven by Marcus, as well as stuffing her SUV full.

 “Hope you don’t change your mind about him, because I am      not     doing this again.” Marcus complains after he and John manage to get her loveseat into the back of the pickup.

 “I’m not concerned.” She says and the conviction in her words and her tone leaves John all the more in love with her.

     Good    , he thinks. He is no longer strong enough to let her go.

 John watches with fascination and awe as he hears a dog bark and watches as her eyes light up. An older man approaches with a golden retriever pulling on its leash trying to reach Helen. He recognizes the dog from the neighborhood, having seen it be taken outside late at night from a few houses over.

 The dog breaks free of the owner, tearing the leash from his hand, bolting towards Helen.

 Grinning, Helen drops down low and braces for the contact. “Hey, Buddy.” She says, scratching the pup behind the ears as the dog pants excitedly.

 “Sorry, Helen!”

 “No worries,” She calls back to the owner, “You know I’m always down for a Buddy-snuggle.”

 Marcus snorts and mutters to John, “How easily you can be replaced.”

 John rolls his eyes, smiling all the while as she coos to the dog lovingly. He thinks back to the first time she met, showing him pictures of her favorite dogs. He had been almost surprised that she didn’t have one of her own.

 With a final pet to the stop of Buddy’s head, she sends him back over to the owner with a wave, before climbing back to her feet.

 A part of him was reluctant to share her but he could imagine, maybe somewhere down the line, getting a dog with Helen. He thinks she would like that, the potential images flipping through his head and filling him with an unexpected warmth.

 “Should have guessed you were a dog person,” Marcus says.

 “Always have been.” She replies, slipping back under John’s arms. Even with moving furniture and boxes, it’s still cold outside. He tucks his chin to her head and wraps his arms around her.

 “Makes sense given your choice in partner.”

 She throws Marcus a look, but he holds up his hands defensively.

 “Not like that! No need to bring my daddy issues into this. Just meant he’s got some of those qualities. Unwavering loyalty, literally the definition of a dog with a bone when it comes to you. Protective, but a little bit stupid.”

 “Thanks, Marcus.” John says, rolling his eyes yet again.

 “I prefer dogs to people, anyway.” Helen says, patting his arm. “Far less complicated. They don’t make muddles out of things the way we do. And they’re far less self-interested.”

 “All this, coming from the only one of us who works with humans for a living.”

 She grins at that, “It’s why I can say, without a doubt, that dogs are better than people.”

  “Aren’t you supposed to be hyper-empathic to the human experience?”

 “I can be. And there is a lot about said human experience that I admire,” Helen says, “We’re an incredibly resilient species. The mind can handle just about anything, which is remarkable when you think about it. And we’ve worked to build societies based on mutual respect and social currency. There’s drama and endless uphill battles, struggles and triumphs, and a capacity for healing unseen in any other creatures,” She shrugs, “But there’s something to be said for just      living    . Simply, at that.”

 He feels his arms tightening around her as he presses a kiss to her head.

 He loves her more than he’ll ever be able to express. Helen leans to the side so her face is just below his and kisses him once more.

 “I’m going to finish with my room.” She tells him and slips out of his arms. He watches as she walks back into the house.

 She’s giving it up for him. Her home, her space.

 It’s still so surreal.

 “She’s incredible.” Marcus says softly.

 “I don’t deserve her.”

 “No, you don’t.” His friend smiles, “Luckily, she loves you anyway.”

 It was strange to think that they had only declared their love for each other a week ago. A single week of verbally and physically expressing their love for one another.

 It simultaneously felt like an eternity and no time at all.

 John heads back into the house, following her path to her bedroom. Her clothes and jewelry had already been packed but her furniture, along with a handful of other things, was left behind. She had washed her sheets earlier and was packing them in a box marked      donations    .

 He takes one end of the sheet and helps her start to fold the next.

 The question pours from him before he can even think about it.

 “Would you like a dog?” John asks, “You know, someday?”

 She steps forward, collecting the sheet, an eyebrow raised in surprise. “Would      you    want a dog?”

 John shrugs, truly uncaring. “I like dogs.”

 “But there’s a difference between liking dogs and wanting a dog. Would you actually want to have a pet? In your perfectly kept, immaculate house?”

 He feels like he shouldn’t say      I want whatever you want     because he doesn’t want to burden her with all the decisions, but truthfully, the only thing in life he wants is to make her happy. The little details don’t matter to him so much as giving her the opportunity to smile.

 “I wouldn’t mind either way,” he says as she folds it one last time and places it in the box with the others, “And the house is immaculate because I barely spend time there.”

 She considers it for a moment, and he feels his heart flutter with the twitch of her lips. “Yeah. Someday. Maybe we adopt an older dog. I’ve always had a soft spot for the rejects.”

 “Makes sense.” John teases and she rolls her eyes.

 “I swear, John Wick, if you make another orphan joke…”

 He grins, stepping into her space. He catches her face in his hands and draws her in for a kiss.

 Her soft lips yield to him and he will never understand what he has done to deserve such grace. But he swears to himself that he will never take for granted her presence or her touch or her love.

 This is happiness. It’s also only the beginning.

 …

 Friday comes, as it must.

 John had wondered if he would feel nervous or anxious for his final mission, his last task. Instead, he wakes up feeling eerily calm.

 He’s never been so grateful for something to end. But then, he’s never had a beginning to look forward to.

 Helen, he finds, is far more nervous than he is.

 “Should you be resting?” She asks as he takes down some of his own books so he can move the shelves around. He wouldn’t be leaving until sunset, much preferring to use the cover of darkness to hide his presence.

 “I’ll be fine.” He assures her. He’s gone on countless missions without sleeping or after only getting a few hours here and there to keep him going. Truthfully, having slept a full eight hours the night before is more than he usually gets.

 But he knows it’s not enough to stop her from worrying so John distracts her. First with planning out their new library. When that didn’t hold her attention enough, he switched to distracting her with his body.

 A sacrifice he was more than willing to make.

 He fucked her in the library before carrying her to the bedroom to take her again. And Helen was insatiable, much to his delight. But fucking her to the point of exhaustion took far more out of him than he anticipated.

 By the time she’s finally too tired to carry on, John finds himself closing his eyes and resting his head in the crook of her neck.

 Her fingers trace the back of his neck as she whispers, “Gotcha.”

 She really is brilliant, he thinks, as John finds himself manipulated into napping.

 He wakes up feeling far more rested and newly motivated to go out and come back home. To never be forced to leave her side again, so long as they both lived.

 It’s all so close.

 Helen runs her hand over his hair.

 “Thank you for making me sleep.” He teases softly.

 “I don’t know what you mean.”

 “Liar.”

 Helen grins at that, leaning forward to kiss him.

     This    , he thinks, this is what waits for him on the other side of the night.

 It motivates him anew.

 John showers and dresses. His traditional three-piece, he hopes to never wear again. For her sake, he leaves the tie on the bureau.

 John slips a small gun into his ankle holster, a knife into his sock. He chooses his weapons carefully as he prepares for the night ahead of him.

 One last time.

 Leaving is so very different than it had always been. Rather than heading straight from his room to his car, he detours to find his partner. To see her, to kiss her before he goes.

 He can hear conversation flowing from the kitchen as he reaches the bottom of the stairs and blinks in surprise.

 Marcus.

 He slips into the kitchen and watches as Helen rummages around in the fridge before pulling out and handing Marcus a beer.

 Marcus, he thinks, is probably the person he would miss the most. One of his oldest friends. One of the first people he ever learned to trust.

 Someone he would soon have to say goodbye to, along with everyone else.

 A large brown paper bag sits in front of him on the kitchen counter.

 “Marcus.” John greets as he steps into the kitchen.

 “John.” Marcus uses the edge of the counter to pry the bottle cap off. “Everything in place?”

 John nods. He had weapons stored around the city and Santino would be assisting. John had been reluctant to make a deal with the mafioso when he was so close to retirement but there were too many moving parts for what Tarasov had asked for John to accomplish it alone.

 Santino swore, so long as John stayed out of the Underworld, he would not use the marker John had promised him. But, should he ever step foot back, he was fair game.

 He almost felt bad for Santino. He would never go back to that life. Not while he had Helen.

 “Didn’t know you were coming over.” John comments, watching as Helen opens a bottle of wine for herself.

 “Somebody’s got to keep your girl from losing her mind.”

 “It’s an important job.” Helen jokes, smiling up at John. “I was afraid I was going to go stir-crazy waiting here at home.”

 He can understand that. He had nearly gone insane in hours after she had been kidnapped.

 John holds open an arm for her, and she wraps around him, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

 “What are you two going to do?” He asks.

 “Marcus brought Thai food,” she gestures to the paper bag, “And we’re going to get drunk then watch and score kung-fu movies bloodlust, technique, and general sexiness.”

 John smiles down at Helen, wondering how he ever managed to make it day to day without her. “Sounds like fun.”

 “We’re starting with Enter the Dragon. Which I’m going to go get set up.” Helen stands on tiptoes and gives John a quick kiss, before grabbing her wine glass and heading to the living room.

 “Last mission.” Marcus says.

 John nods again, “It is.”

 “How do you feel?”

 “You’ve been spending too much time with Helen.” John jokes, thinking of all the times his girlfriend had asked him that very same question, “But I feel ready.”

 “Nervous?”

 “Not even a little.”

 “Good.” Marcus glances to where she had exited, “I worried in the beginning. That you weren’t thinking clearly; that she didn’t have what it takes to be involved with an assassin. I’m glad I was wrong on both counts.”

 John looks down because he really doesn’t know how to have this conversation. He’d said his goodbyes to Sofia, to Winston, to Charon. To the few members of the Underworld that mattered to him. But this is one he just doesn’t know how to say.

 Marcus has had his back for two decades. He’d been his friend and confidant. The only person on the planet John had felt he could trust Helen to when his life fell apart. The man who, even now, was devoting his time to helping Helen.

 “We know the rules,” Marcus says quietly, “That after tonight… we go our separate ways…”

 “I wish it didn’t have to be like that.” John says just as softly.

 He’s told Helen, explained it to her.

 She had been angry, at first. That John was being forced to give up his friends along with everything else. That the Underworld was so unwavering and rigid with their rules and expectations. Then, she had been sad. Then guilty.

 She promised she would love him whether he left the Underworld or not and he believed her. But the life he wanted… it was for both of them. And it didn’t involve looking over their shoulders every moment of every day. He wanted to take her to dinner and not worry that the man two tables over was packing. To go to the farmer’s market without wondering if someone was going to attack.

 He told her again and again that this was      his    decision. That he was the one deciding to part ways in order to have the life that      he     wanted.

 And he has no regrets.

 There was nothing he wouldn’t sacrifice for that life.

 “Me too. But… you’re making the right choice, John.” Marcus assures him. “And I know that we won’t be able to go get a beer or hang out but write to me now and then. Send me the announcement if you ever convince that beautiful woman to marry you.”

 John nods, “I will.”

 “Good.”

 And maybe it’s because it’s goodbye, or maybe Helen has made him completely soft, but John walks across the room and hugs his friend.

 “Thank you. For everything.”

 Marcus nods, “Just… live well. Take care of each other.”

 “We will.”

 They part and John leaves Marcus to sort through the takeout he had brought with him. John follows Helen into the living room. She is using the remote to type in a password, standing barefoot in the middle of the sunken section.

 John takes the two steps down. Helen glances up as he does. He watches her swallow.

 “Time to go?” She asks softly and he nods.

 She tosses the remote to the side and throws her arms around him. Her grip is impossibly tight, but he doesn’t mind. He’s never felt more loved than when her arms are around him.

 “You’ll be careful out there?” her voice breaks a bit as she asks the same question, she asked every single week before he left the safety of her office. Right before John went out to venture into the Underworld.

 “I promise.” He kisses the top of her head.

 She breathes a soft sigh of relief. Helen leans back, looking up at him even if she doesn’t release her arms. “Because if you’re not back by morning, I’m coming after you.”

 “I’ll be back.”

 Partially because there was no way in Hell he was ever letting her become involved with the Underworld again but mostly because she was his home. The only one he had ever known.

 John catches her jaw in his hand and angles her face upward and teases, “It will be over soon. This time next week, you’ll be so annoyed with me, you’ll be wishing you could send me back.”

 “Never.” She says even as she smiles. “I love you.”

 “I love you too.” He kisses her lips, giving himself a moment to be completely consumed by her. To memorize, once more, her smell and touch and taste. He’ll take her with him everywhere he goes and hold on to the memory to guide him back home.

 With a final, soft kiss on lips he releases her. To leave her side one last time. He walks back up the steps to the leveled floor. He reaches out for the handle to the garage door.

 “John?” She says and he glances back, “Come home to me.”

 His lips twitch as he opens the door, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 With the morning comes their promise of forever.

[btxtreads]

perfectly perfect | choi soobin (4)

part of the arcadia academy series

↳ pairing: Choi Soobin x Reader  ↳ word count: 2.1k words  ↳ rating: G  ↳ genre: Highschool!au, Jock!Soobin, mostly fluff, white prince!Soobin,,, also Soobin lets himself get dragged around a lot, tsundere!Soobin but nothing that’s too much to handle ↳ series: Arcadia Academy

(please also read “Personal Best,” Arcadia Academy’s Beomgyu series by @bffsoobin​​ 💖)

a/n: no updates tomorrow since I have a work thing 🥺 i’ll update the day after tomorrow 

Y/N silently sat by the benches in front of the lockers, drying her hair with a spare towel.

Her body was practically swallowed by a gigantic purple hoodie, with CHOI SOOBIN 05 printed in gigantic block letters at the back.

He eyes danced up to the open locker in front of her, frowning at the massive space which was practically a makeshift closet of hoodies, towels and jerseys.

Attached behind the locker door was a collage of photos with Soobin, Yeonjun and Beomgyu—the three best players for the volleyball team and best of friends—with their favorite juniors Hueningkai and Taehyun. His best friends.

Below the collage of volleyball photos was a polaroid photo of Soobin holding a baby, next to a woman slightly older than him.

Y/N reached out and took it, observing.

His smile was different—way more comfortable, more open, more—

“That’s my sister and nephew,” Soobin said, exiting the shower room while drying his hair. “She got a polaroid last month, and I didn’t know where to put it,”

More Soobin.

“Oh,” Y/N replied, setting down the polaroid. “That’s nice,”

Soobin hummed as he reached out and grabbed a folded hoodie off of a shelf in his locker.

CHOI SOOBIN 05.

“How many of these hoodies do you have?”

“Ah, too many,” Soobin shrugged, sliding the hoodie on. “I may have liked them a little bit too much,”

“They’re comfy,”

“Keep it,”

“Okay,” Y/N replied, biting her lip as Soobin closed the locker door and leaned back on it. “So,”

“So?” Soobin asked, raising his eyebrow.

“You smell nice,” Y/N squeaked out making Soobin snort and roll his nice.

“Thanks, pres,”

Y/N cleared her throat.

There was silence between him and her.

The water droplets from the recently used shower room suddenly became too loud.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N started. “I made a scene. Dragged you off in front of a lot of people, even,”

Soobin stayed silent, eyes trained on her as she trailed off.

Y/N sighed, running a hand through her hair.

“You were the only way to make it work.”

“Make what work?” Soobin asked, lips pursed.

“The booth, the cafe,” Y/N shook her head. “You were gone for an hour and everyone was just—they left? Girls kept looking for you, and I thought—maybe you were the only way the booth was going to make it,”

Soobin frowned.

“Y/N, I told you I needed to go to Volleyball,” Soobin said. “I was going to go back, I wasn’t going to leave you,”

“I wouldn’t know, Soobin,” Y/N growled. “You were gone for five whole hours and I looked back up and you were wet and shirtless?”

“What’s that got to do with it?”

“Maybe the fact that you had no thoughts about going back?” Y/N shot back, making Soobin snort.

“How could you know that from just seeing me wiping down a sedan?”

“Maybe because you were thoroughly enjoying the way so many girls were ogling at you,” Y/N glared at him.

“Wh—Are you jealous of them?”

“When did I say that?” Y/N asked, appalled.

“It’s the words and the tone, babe,”

“First of all, you sound like Yeonjun,” Y/N argued. “Second of all, that doesn’t make any sense,”

“Yes, it does,”

“No, it doesn’t,” Y/N spits out. “Besides, I’m not your girlfriend, or friend, or anyone—why would I be jealous?”

Soobin stopped, narrowing his eyes.

“You don’t know?”

“Know what?”

“I’m hurt,” Soobin scoffed. “For someone so smart, you’re pretty oblivious,”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Y/N sputtered out.

Soobin only rolled his eyes.

Y/N scoffed back and crossed her arms.

“Well, for the volleyball prince of the school—you’re not so white prince right now,” Y/N hissed. “Or the whole day today, for that matter. At least to me,”

Soobin rolled his eyes again.

“What’s so hard to understand, pres,” Soobin sighed. “about how I am not a white prince, or volleyball prince, or whatever,”

“Okay, volleyball prince,” Y/N snorted.

“I literally just said I’m not the volleyball prince,”

“Yeah? Well, for some reason,” Y/N huffed. “people keep saying that you are,”

“Yeah? Then, for some reason,” Soobin raised his voice. “You keep driving me crazy,”

Y/N froze, sputtering.

“Huh?”

“Yeah, I can’t get you out of my fucking mind these days and it’s driving me insane,” Soobin said, shaking his head and stepping forward.

Y/N squeaked stepping back as Soobin edged closer and closer.

“For some reason, you’re always there telling me to be Soobin, not the volleyball prince. For some reason, you make me so comfortable I actually forget where I am sometimes,” Soobin said, pressing against Y/N until her back is against the lockers.

He leaned closer, his head lowering until his lips brushed against hers.

“For some reason—” He trailed off, looking at her eyes.

Y/N took a shuddering breath, her eyes dropping down to his lips before returning her gaze back on his brown eyes.

“For some reason, what?” she asked silently.

Soobin only smiled, pulling on the laces of her hoodie.

The cloth tightened up, bunching around her face and covering her line of sight.

Y/N squealed as she reached up to smack his shoulders, hearing him laugh and feeling him back off of her.

She doesn’t know why she was a little disappointed.

“For some reason, I like how I don’t have to be anyone but me when I’m with you,”

Y/N pried the cloth off of her face and looked over at Soobin, whose back was turned on her and one hand shoved in his sweatpants.

“Now, come on,” he said, his free hand reaching out and clasping on her wrist. “Time to run a cafe,”

With a red face, Y/N followed him out.

She didn’t find it in her heart to comment about his equally-as-red ears.

It was four hours to closing time when the cafe closed up itself, having ran out of products to sell.

Y/N and Soobin made their way out of the financing office, having released their declared money for the booth.

“Well,” Soobin rocked back on his heels. “I should get back to the car wash,”

“I’ll take you back,” Y/N smiled over at him. “I did promise Yeonjun I was going to bring you back in one piece, anyways,”

Soobin rolled his eyes as Y/N led the way out of the school and into the parking lot.

Just before the car wash was a small arcade set up by the women’s volleyball team.

Arcadia Arcade, it read.

Soobin turned to Y/N with a smile.

“Hey,” he started, pulling Y/N off to the road away from the school. “Come with me,”

“What?”

“Just follow me,”

Y/N rolled her eyes, walking next to him.

“Sorry about taking so long, by the way,” Soobin said, pocketing his hands. “I should’ve came back to you earlier,”

Y/N turned back to him, smiling slightly as he kept his gaze firmly trained on the path ahead of them.

“It’s fine,” Y/N hummed. “Not your fault,”

“But it is,” Soobin said before taking her wrist again and tugging her towards a huge, noisy building.

It was the local arcade.

Y/N couldn’t find it in her to protest as Soobin pulled out a ten-dollar bill from his pocket to exchange for tokens.

She still gaped as Soobin dragged her towards the basketball machine with a mischievous giggle.

“I’m gonna teach you how to shoot a basketball,” He declared.

Y/N slammed a hand on his arm, making him flinch.

“You have to get back to the volleyball team, remember?”

“Screw that, Yeonjun will be fine,” Soobin waved nonchalantly as he fished a token from his small bag of tokens. “Now, come on!”

A shrill whistle sounded before Soobin took her and pressed himself behind her back.

“Okay, so get a ball,” Soobin instructed and put a basketball in her hands.

“It’s heavy,”

“Well, it’s basketball,” Soobin laughed before positioning his hands over hers. “You shoot—like this—and you let go—“

Soobin burst into laughters as the basketball fell from their hands, not even touching the net.

“Like that, but better aim,” Soobin laughed again, an arm falling on Y/N’s waist and looking back down at her.

Y/N’s hand reached up to touch his on her waist.

“Soobin,” Y/N started, looking up and locking gazes with him.

“Yeah?”

Y/N stopped, her eyes falling to his lips, vaguely aware of how he was slowly moving closer and closer.

She didn’t notice before but he was really attractive.

His black hair wasn’t made up now like it usually was—but somehow he made it work.

His lips were so pink and plump and he was getting so close that Y/N only needed to move her head and kiss—

GAME OVER.

Y/N flinched and Soobin practically fell back as the basketball machine flashed 0 POINTS.

“Ah, we didn’t get to score anything for thirty seconds,” Soobin winced, slotting another token into the machine and shooting basketballs himself.

Y/N leaned on the machine, smiling and observing as Soobin kept on shooting—every single ball effortlessly passing through the hoop.

“Hey, why are we here?”

“Hm?” Soobin asked, looking at her as he shot another ball. “Oh, I saw you looking at the arcade in school and thought, hey why not?”

“There’s an arcade at the school, you know,” Y/N pointed out. “We could’ve went there,”

“That arcade was for babies,” Soobin snorted. “This is a bigger, better arcade,”

“Are you just saying this because that specific arcade was set by the female volleyball team?” Y/N chuckled as Soobin’s game finished.

He narrowed his eyes and scoffed.

“That has nothing to do with it,”

“Never knew the prince could be this petty,” Y/N laughed, turning around to walk towards a claw machine. “That’s cute,”

“The doll?” Soobin asked, following behind her and looking over at a Mollang doll smack dab in the middle of the machine.

“No, you,” Y/N laughed, amused at how fast Soobin’s face burned red. “But yes, the doll too,”

“Move over,” Soobin coughed, hiding his blush as he gently pushed Y/N out of the way and inserted tokens into the machine.

“Hm? Are you getting the doll for me?” Y/N teased, making Soobin shake his head again.

“Nope,” He huffed. “Just—uh, Hueningkai likes Mollang and you said it’s cute so he must like it,”

“Ah,” Y/N laughed.

It took him around three more tries until he finally got the doll.

“Well,” Soobin said, clearing his throat as he held it up. “It doesn’t look cute,”

“Yes, it does,” Y/N snorted as she pointed at the blue cloth around it. “Look at that pink collar, it’s so cute,”

“Not cute enough,” Soobin shrugged before thrusting it over to Y/N, his face red as he turned his head away from her. “Ah, take it,”

Y/N raised her eyebrow.

“You said it was for Hueningkai,”

“He won’t like it, it’s not cute enough,” Soobin muttered, burning brighter.

“Right, well,” Y/N smiled, taking the doll. “Thank you, Soobin,”

Soobin turned even redder when Y/N reached up on her tip-toes and planted a kiss on his cheek.

“Cool,” Soobin coughed and turned away, much to Y/N’s amusement. “Let’s play zombies,”

It was almost 9 in the evening when Soobin decided they should go home.

Like before, Soobin insisted on bringing Y/N home.

“It’s really dangerous, you know,” he coughed. “night time,”

The walk to Y/N’s house was smooth and enjoyable—the conversation goes every which way.

As soon as they stopped in front of her house, Soobin bit his lip as Y/N turned to him.

“Want to head inside?”

“No,” Soobin shook his head. “It’s late and I should get home,”

“Hm,” Y/N nodded. “Well, thank you for today,”

“Right,”

“And the hoodie—I’ll give it back tomorrow,” Y/N said.

“Ah, I said keep it,” Soobin shook his head. “It’s cute on you,”

“Ah,” Y/N nodded. “Well, the doll. Thanks for the doll,”

“Your welcome,”

“I enjoyed the arcade.” she smiled. “I can’t remember the last time I did something fun without thinking about how I should have been using the time to improve my college application,”

Soobin smiled.

“You’ll do great trust me,”

“Right,” Y/N nodded awkwardly. “Well, good night, then.”

“Good night,” Soobin nodded as Y/N turned to enter her door. “Hey, Y/N?”

“Hm?”

Y/N turned to see Soobin right behind her.

Swiftly, he leaned down and planted a fast peck on her lips.

He pulled away and coughed, scratching the back of his neck.

He bolted out of the driveway and down the street, face bright red.

Y/N’s hand slowly crept up to her lips, and she smiled.

No matter how fast that kiss was, she can’t help but notice how soft his lips were.

[tsskyx]

Unmeta

You know what’s ridiculous? This post was originally supposed to be an essay, an entire thesis backed with unshakable logic that I wanted to become my magnum opus. But as it turns out, I’m pretty terrible at doing that sort of thing. The first day I’m full of enthusiasm, while the next day I reread what I wrote and I delete it all again. It’s terrible.

For this reason, I’ve decided to just start with the opinion part. Instead of laying out the facts and easing the reader into it, I’ll just blurt everything out in one go. Instead of neatly organizing everything, I’ll write my thoughts as they come to me.

(Update for 2/Oct/2021: I no longer remember when I made the first draft of this post. Maybe it was in 2018, maybe even as early as 2017. Who knows. This post existed in my drafts since forever. It is time to finally publish it. It contains very little information, very little evidence for anything or logic or facts, it’s just a one big opinion piece that I began writing years ago out of frustration. Frustration not aimed at the game itself, nor at Toby or anyone else, but at my inability to decouple the “meta” from Undertale and thus causing me to disassociate from the characters that I loved, when I didn’t plan to do so. All I ever wanted is to make sense of the Undertale world, instead of giving its inhabitants a meta-existential dread. In a nutshell, for the Undertale world to be self-contained, the 4th wall must stay intact, and the mechanics of the UT world mustn’t resemble a video game. That’s basically the gist of this post. Proceed with reading.)

You know Undertale meta? All the 4th wall breaking stuff and whatnot? The stuff that makes the game so awesome?

What about it you say?

It’s not real. I don’t think it is. It cannot be.

Tell me, has Undertale personally impacted you? Was it more than just a game to you? I know for a fact that for many people, it was much more than that. So tell me, is it fine by you that despite presenting itself in this way to us, it still sort of cops out of this at the very end? (By which I mean, when we learn that we aren’t Frisk. That we’re just someone controlling them.)

Some say that this cop-out, this act of “disassociation”, is necessary for our psychological journey to end. And I agree. We cannot dwell on this forever, else we lose our minds. But what I meant is something much more... materialistic.

Let’s take Oneshot, a game that’s arguably even more meta than Undertale. Oneshot embraces the 4th wall. It labels us a god. It portrays the game itself as an in-game machine. And yet, it feels real. Despite all this ridiculousness, the story feels real and possible. Kind of like The Matrix. Perhaps think of everyone in Oneshot except for the main character as a Matrix program, while Niko is the only user hooked up to it. It still feels real, because Niko is real, because there exists a real world they can to return to.

But Undertale floats somewhere between being real and being a fairy tale, a mere bedtime story. The reason is its lax handling of the 4th wall. Say, if Undertale were to be considered a “real” possibility, as in, entirely fictional, but still believable, kinda like The Matrix, kinda like any science fiction, or just fiction in general, what would it be like?

I’ll tell you, everything would have to be real, everything would have to look exactly how we see it. There’d need to be turns, there’d need to be save files, there’d need to be so many bizarre things, it probably wouldn’t take long before the NPCs themselves realized their own nonexistence, probably around the time they developed computers and video games. It’d be so similar, they’d have to be either stupid or under some kind of spell to not realize that their entire world is just one giant video game. Especially Flowey. Some say that he has already realized this, as his dialogue hints towards this. Which puts a super unfortunate spin on his condition. Furthermore, the entire game could be described through its Game Maker code. No need for laws of physics, just observe the if-else statements!

It would also mean that Frisk is controlled by a third unknown entity. If we were to take everything we do to Frisk at face value, it must all be them. Except... after a true reset, everything gets reset, even things about Frisk, such as them expecting the whoopee cushion prank. So... Frisk isn’t in control. But Chara isn’t either. Take for example the final fight against Asriel. Chara appeared pretty enthusiastic during it. What if someone were to reset the timeline during the fight? Either it wasn’t them who did so, or they were just pretending to be entertained, or perhaps they aren’t the narrator in the first place even.

No matter what, there will always be an instance where Frisk forgets, and where Chara doesn’t do something when they could have. Once you mess with the game enough, their personalities stop making sense.

This gradual breakdown of the narrative as I keep attacking the logic of it from every direction imaginable is a symptom of something far bigger. The fact that unlike The Matrix or Oneshot, there is no “real world” in this game. The virtual part of it is what the game is trying to make us focus on. It’s all there is. There is not even a hint of “another” world in the game, a world that wouldn’t be governed by these terrible rules. And even if there was one, even if you consider what Sans said to be that world, even if you considered Deltarune to be that world, there is still no guarantee that everything will be okay. What if the characters - your friends, aren’t real in this actual real world, what if they’re all just computer simulations? There’d have to be an entire population hooked up to a virtual reality for everyone to be “safe” as I’m putting it in this hypothetical real world, which sounds not only ridiculous, but like a direct ripoff of The Matrix.

The game has made Frisk the main character. Why, when making Sans the main one, the one who at least has a possibility of coming from a “real” real world, would be far more logical?

Because it lacks logic. Undertale is an experiment. Toby Fox is not a genius. He was just messing around, he didn’t think of literally every tiny little logical detail (contrary to what some individuals would like to think), he just explained enough for most of the story to make sense. But, no matter how you spin it, this fundamental flaw will always be there. The story tries to merge you and the protagonist, before disassociating you from them. Even if you always were disassociated from them, how can the in-game world be real, when other aspects of your reality weren’t disassociated yet? Where’s the disassociation for battles and turns, for save files and time travel, for stats and everything? How can Undertale claim to be complete, when it isn’t? ... Perhaps because it is not claiming to be. It’s an experiment after all. And I don’t mean “incomplete” as in a single update / new game can fix it. I mean the premise itself is already broken from the start. And while there are many fictional worlds which function on a similar level of meta, Undertale is the only one that appears to irk me mad. I don’t know why. Maybe I love the characters. Maybe I love them very much. Maybe I love them so much, that I wanna write a fan fiction about them. And maybe, just maybe, this tiny little issue is making this dream of mine impossible. Undertale is a story conveyed through game mechanics. Choosing any other medium breaks everything down and the author needs to invent their own rules. There’s simply no way around it. Unless someone has the balls to program a fan game of their own, there’s just no way to resolve this without adjusting the canon a little bit, to make it “a little bit more sensible” as some would put it. Just a small nudge, a lil’ nudgie wudgie to the canon mechanics AAAAAND we’re in fanon territory. Excellent, better go all out.

Here’s my head canon, my little “adjustment” of the canon rules. Thanks to it, I can once again think about Undertale as a real world, I no longer need to philosophize over the meta like I did above, I can all put it past me:

Saving, loading, resetting? Regular sci-fi time travel.

The save file? The parameters of the time machine.

LV and EXP? Another set of properties of the machine, though it could be properties of the soul too. I’m undecided on that note. But either works, that’s what’s important.

Chara destroying the world through LV? No, screw that, Chara merely tuned Frisk out. And the black void was the inside of their mind as Chara denied them access to their own body.

The intro? Literally never happened, no one “saw” it. (The past was still real. It’s just the intro that never existed.) The outro? Literally never physically occurred, Frisk wasn’t “stuck” on the ending credits, unable to go further, fuck that.

Flowey? No screw everything meta about Flowey, there exists a perfectly logical explanation to everything he says, and if not, such as in the genocide run with him hinting towards people watching but not acting... he never said that in the first place!

Same with turns, the battles don’t actually look that way, there are no turns, what Sans perceives and abuses as such is just an illusion, the actual battle against Sans is absolutely fluid. And him pausing at the end and not letting us go is him keeping his guard up, until falling asleep and giving us an opportunity to sneak near him and strike. We don’t need turns to explain it. And what he said about turns... just ignore it! Ignore everything that directly proves me wrong! Because resolving that fucking conundrum IS more important than being logically consistent, and you can’t change my mind on that. Screw logic when the foundation of the entire fandom, of every UT-related fiction, is at stake here.

And I shall call this philosophy... the Unmeta. Because it attempts to undo the meta. Hence, “unmeta” for short.

[shijiujun]

thirst follow au for chuyao? (i dunno if you still take prompt requests for chuyao but i just discovered the prompt list you posted and if you do still take prompts i'd love read your version for chuyao of this!!)

new celebrity lu yao + ceo of the company lu yao is signed under qiao chusheng

---

The first thing that Lu Yao does once he’s alone these days is open his Weibo app and scroll to a particular account to look for updates. It doesn’t matter if he’s just started break after his filming sequence, or when he gets home after a day of long activities, before he does anything, Lu Yao is on his phone and checking through @/乔楚生mmc.

“Yao Yao, are you checking through Qiao-zong’s Weibo again?” his manager sighs as she enters the waiting room that has been allocated to Lu Yao for the duration of this period drama shoot.

“... Jie,” Lu Yao grins suddenly, showing her his phone, “Look at him at the ELLE Fashion event, he’s not wearing an inside shirt! It’s just a blazer over, I saw his fans yelling about this earlier but I didn’t have time to check, he just-”

Man Man-jie, his manager, tries not to be exasperated with him, but it has honestly been two months since Lu Yao discovered Qiao Chusheng, the CEO of Qing Long Ying Shi, the largest entertainment and media company in the country, after he visited one of Lu Yao’s shoots. 

Not for Lu Yao of course, but for the world-renowned director that Lu Yao and every other crew and cast member in this production is working with - suffice to say, Lu Yao laid eyes on their company’s CEO for the first time since he signed on a year ago, and he hasn’t been able to keep away from him since. 

It makes him wonder why Qiao Chusheng did not become a star himself, but Man Man said that the man has always had a knack for business development, and the company has only grown stronger after Boss Bai, the man who founded it and who is also Qiao Chusheng’s adoptive father, relinquished the position to him.

“How did you not know Qiao Chusheng is the CEO of this company?! Your paychecks are getting signed by him!”

“Aiya.... Jie, it’s not like I come across him at all... And I thought our CEO was some old man...”

Lu Yao immediately followed Qiao-zong on all his social media accounts because the man is certified exceptional in looks and body. He won’t admit it, but the best thing he likes about Qiao Chusheng aside from his arms, his muscles, his chiseled jaw, those sharp eyes, that hot body, is definitely the man’s smile.

It’s too embarrassing to say though, so Lu Yao stalks him online instead, on his private account that no one knows about. And because it’s a private and almost empty account, Lu Yao dares to leave emoji responses and some comments from time to time.

Today, Lu Yao replied Qiao Chusheng’s post with five thumbs-ups and five fire emojis. On second thought, he adds:

“哥哥帅爆了! 哥哥看我一下~”*

Man Man looks over his shoulder to glance at the comment and rolls her eyes so hard that she almost pulls something in her neck. 

“You know, one of these days, if anyone finds out, you’re dead,” she shakes her head. “When that time comes, you’re on your own. Don’t expect me to clean up on your behalf. Also, Qiao-zong is only a year older than you are, and you’re calling him gege?”

“Hey!” Lu Yao exclaims, indignant, “I have to present myself as one of his young girl fans right? If anyone ever finds out about my account, i can at least roll my eyes and ask if I would ever sound this disgusting, and then people will think twice.”

“Okay, if not that, then could you please change your Weibo name? You’re embarrassing me!”

Lu Yao frowns, confused. He thinks @/三土葱油饼 is a great handle for a social media account.

The best thing is, Qiao-zong has been oddly responsive to social media post comments recently, and he banters hilariously with fans when he has the time. Lu Yao hasn’t gotten that privilege yet, but Qiao-zong seems to be liking a lot of his fans’ posts as well, at least for those who post in the first hour of his new post, and those get likes.

Recently, it has also been Lu Yao’s personal mission to leave a comment and get a like by his Qiao-zong.

“Yao Yao, you’re so stupid, you know that? Not every single fangirl has the opportunity that you do. You literally have an excuse to go see him, you actually have access to him, his office floor? Company events? What game are you playing, stalking him on Weibo?”

Lu Yao tunes her out a little. It’s pretty fun to him, to be able to openly appreciate all these hot and amazing photos of Qiao-zong. Here, he can stare to his heart’s content, and he doesn’t have to hold back when he makes his comments. If he met Qiao Chusheng in person...

Well, of course he wants that too, but would he be more disappointed if Qiao Chusheng barely looks at him, or ignores him? Lu Yao isn’t a small artiste by any measure, and he did win the newcomer award two years ago, but there are so many experienced and legendary colleagues in his company too. 

It is, after all, the country’s media and entertainment industry behemoth, and Lu Yao doesn’t have a complex - he knows what he’s worth right now, and it ain’t a whole damn lot.

When he comes out of the shower two hours later at home, he sees a notification on Weibo, and it says that @/乔楚生mmc has liked his comment! 

His day made, Lu Yao flops back onto his bed and conks out for the next 24 hours.

===

Lu Yao can only thank his lucky stars because someone up there must really be looking out for him. If not, how can anyone explain Qiao Chusheng turning up at his shoot so frequently the week after?

Before this, Lu Yao had literally never seen the man even once aside from that very first meeting that began this whole thirst journey for him, and this week, Qiao-zong has visited every single day.

Of course, it’s not like he’s here for Lu Yao. According to some of his cast mates, Qiao Chusheng’s younger sister Bai Youning wrote the script for the last stage of their filming before the production wraps up, and asked her brother to stay on set to watch every scene being filmed.

The scriptwriter is usually on set for the parts she writes, but this particular segment of filming happened to clash with her honeymoon period with her new husband, but did that stop her from being involved? Not at all, and so busy Qiao Chusheng has to sit his ass down, note down what’s happening, and report back to his adopted sister at the end of each day.

Sadly, this segment will only take five days or less to complete, which means Lu Yao won’t be able to stare at Qiao-zong for much longer.

When will he shine brightly enough to catch Qiao-zong’s attention?

At the thought, Lu Yao slaps his own cheeks.

He only thinks of Qiao Chusheng as eye candy. He’s after a visual feast whenever he logs onto Weibo to catch the man’s updates. Qiao Chusheng is a pillar of strength for him mentally.

Lu Yao has no other untoward fantasy or goals when it comes to Qiao Chusheng.

None at all.

===

Somehow, Lu Yao ends up all drunk and boneless in Qiao-zong’s laps at the end of the week. As they expected, filming wrapped up officially earlier in the evening after Lu Yao filmed his very last scene, and since the CEO was present, there was no reason not to treat everyone on the production to a good meal.

Man Man temporarily left ten minutes ago to take on a call for another possible role for Lu Yao, and the room was cleared when Qiao Chusheng offered to book three huge karaoke rooms upstairs for the crew and cast to continue their party at after their dinner.

Lu Yao has had a bit too much to drink, and Man Man isn’t around to direct him elsewhere, so when the room has emptied, he is still seated, staring at his empty glass of wine. 

Suddenly, he thinks of something, and immediately pats at his pockets for his phone. 

“... Lu-xiansheng,” a voice sounds, “You’re not going to join them upstairs?”

“Mmm,” Lu Yao nods, trying to focus on his phone screen. “Going home.”

A nice-sounding chuckle echoes through the room then, “Can you get home like this?”

“I’m going on Weibo. Man-jie will send me home,” Lu Yao responds, almost sulking a little as he tries to find his favourite Weibo account.

There’s a bit of silence after that, and before Lu Yao can even scroll through today’s updates, a hand closes over the screen.

“You’re drunk, Lu Yao,” the same person says again. “You really shouldn’t be on Weibo. What if you post something by accident?”

Lu Yao pauses, and then he shakes his head, “I’m not posting anything.”

He turns and shows his ‘friend’ his phone screen, “See? It’s a private account, and... and... and I’m just... going to check on my favourite account.”

“Even then,” the man says again, exceedingly gentle and patient, “You should only look at Weibo when you’re sober.”

“No!” Lu Yao protests. “I have to check. I check this account everyday. See? See?”

There’s a long, long moment of silence as Lu Yao scrolls his way down the account, detailing which are his favourite photos. The man lets him go on, and because he’s cold, Lu Yao inches even closer to him.

The last thing he remembers is his new friend taking his phone from him.

===

It’s painfully bright when he wakes up, the light triggering a headache even before he opens his eyes. When he does, however, Lu Yao has to take a long, long moment to figure out just where the fuck he is. 

He’s trying to massage the headache away with his fingers, seated up in bed but having zero energy to get out of it just yet, so when Qiao Chusheng walks through the door with a smile, Lu Yao just stares.

“You’re awake. Great, I got you some fried buns for breakfast, you okay with that? Man Man didn’t say you were on any sort of diet,” the man says casually, as if they are friends.

Lu Yao looks down at himself, and nearly jolts when he realizes he’s in nothing else but a bathrobe.

Before he can panic, Qiao Chusheng adds, “I thought you looked a little uncomfortable sleeping in your jeans and shirt yesterday.”

“I’m sorry,” Lu Yao rasps, trying to wrap his head around why Qiao Chusheng is here, why they’re in a hotel room, and why the fuck the man is even speaking to him in the first place-

He must have inconvenienced the man last night while he was drunk, and instead of throwing him to Man Man, Qiao Chusheng decided to take care of him instead. Maybe Qiao Chusheng could have left him on the streets or something, but he is after all an artist under his company, and if anything strange happened because Lu Yao was drunk, it would be bad for the reputation and image of the company if word got out.

Yes, that’s the only explanation for this.

“I’m sorry for the trouble, Qiao-zong,” Lu Yao says, inching his way out of bed. 

“No trouble at all,” Qiao Chusheng replies. “Come and sit, have some breakfast before you go. I called Man Man, she should be here in a bit to pick you up.”

With that said, it isn’t good for Lu Yao to reject him and just run off no matter how much he wants to right now. He sits down opposite the man at the table, and then picks up the buns.

After he’s literally swallowed three whole buns, Qiao Chusheng comments idly, “I thought it was random when you chose your Weibo account handle, but it seems that you really like cong you bings?”

“Mnn,” Lu Yao nods, wolfing the buns down because he’s hungry as hell, and so he doesn’t’ really register the first part of the man’s sentence, not until he’s on the last bite of his bun.

And then he chokes.

“How did you-?!”

At that, Qiao Chusheng raises an eyebrow, “You showed me your phone yesterday, and introduced to me your favourite account.”

Lu Yao blanches, because he knows which account that is, and then Qiao Chusheng continues, amused, “You were telling me how nice his smile looks. How pretty his eyes are. How strong his arms probably are hidden under that suit. And that you guessed right, he actually does have six-pack-”

“Please stop,” Lu Yao croaks, mortified. “I...”

The man takes pity on him and stops as requested. Lu Yao is frozen in his seat, like a deer caught in headlights, wondering what he should say next.

Qiao Chusheng nods, “Would you like to have lunch with me later?”

“Are you firing me?”

“It’s just lunch,” he answers. “I’m technically your boss, so I understand if you’re uncomfortable with the idea but... we could do lunch, and see how it goes from there.”

And then Qiao Chusheng looks away a little, “And.. I may have been visiting the set not to supervise the interpretation of Youning’s script.”

Once again, it takes him a few solid seconds to connect the dots, and when it does, Lu Yao flushes completely red.

“... we could do lunch,” Lu Yao agrees finally. “But I have to go home and change first.”

When he looks up again, it’s that smile he sees.

===

Weeks later, Chusheng makes Lu Yao repeat every single message he’s left on his posts, all the embarrassing ones, refusing to move if he doesn’t. Lu Yao’s hands balls into fists in the sheets, and says no.

He left a lot of messages! How is he supposed to remember every single one of them?!

Chusheng makes a a convincing argument though, towering over him and not giving into Lu Yao’s requests to fuck him properly until Lu Yao says them. It ends with Lu Yao trying to concentrate enough to speak, word after word.

He’s going to unfollow his boyfriend on Weibo after this!

---

Notes:

1. Qiao Chusheng’s Weibo account name is @/乔楚生mmc = Qiao Chusheng MMC, and this is taken directly from Zhang Yunlong’s own Weibo handle, which is 张云龙mmc. MMC, as I recently found out from Hanyi, stands for mao mao chong = caterpillar/worm? HAHAHAHA

2. Lu Yao’s handle is @/三土葱油饼 = San Tu Cong You BIng, which is a combination of the name San Tu and his favourite fried buns HAHAHA that’s how QCS was inspired to buy fried buns for Lu Yao the morning after

3. The comment that Lu Yao left in Chinese above is: “哥哥帅爆了! 哥哥看我一下~” = Gege you’re handsome af, take a look at me please! Something like that, he was definitely kind of joking when he posted that, but you can imagine Lu Yao being a little troublemaker by posting those comments and once QCS realized it was him, it was payback time? Of course, QCS likes to hear his baobei Lu Yao say anything <3

[cannibalisticapple]

Okay, so I have some thoughts on Kurikuri’s decision to delete a large number of her fan fics, and on fan fiction as a whole.

For those who don’t know, Kurikuri (@letaizawarest) is a popular fan fiction author with numerous popular Erasermic fics, along with other fandoms. Around the end of May/start of June she deleted a large number of her stories, specifically those that featured either police, or those set in the My Hero Academia universe where they work as Pro Heroes.

To quote her post:

as you may have noticed, roughly half of the fics on my ao3 have been deleted.

i’ve deleted all my fics about police officers. also, after some thought, i also deleted my non-AU bnha fics, because although they might not be “cops” in name, they are law enforcement. i do not want to be a part of the system that glorifies the police. 


at the moment i haven’t deleted other profession AUs and high school era fics, but i will continue to reflect on their relation to the source material. even if you enjoyed the deleted fics, please do not circulate them in other formats (PDFs, EPUBs, etc). 


i also encourage other writers to think about cop fic they’ve written. while it may be fun and escapist for you, it still encourages the idea that antiblack and killer cops are just “bad apples” and that good cops exist. let’s dismantle that system of thought.

I have some very, very mixed feelings on this.

To start: I respect her reasoning, but I don’t agree with it. I fully agree that it’s not just a bunch of “bad apples”, there’s a serious issue with the system and how the police operate in the United States. I’ve always been bothered by how the police let other officers get away with horrible BS, even as a kid, and that rage has only grown as I’ve grown older and found out more about how screwed up it is on every single level.

But the way that last paragraph is written rubs me the wrong way because you can’t paint every single person in an entire career field as unequivocally corrupt, bigoted and all around callous murderers. Good cops DO exist. Plenty of people go into the career hoping to fix things, or just genuinely want to help their community in whatever way they can. But the thing is, they’re fighting a losing battle because the system is working against them. When they DO speak up against the corruption, bigotry, violence and other issues, they tend to get fired and blacklisted from the field. Or sometimes, they get outright murdered and it’s treated as a “suicide.”

A shitty fact of life: sometimes, the people who are more willing to resort to underhanded tactics and willing to turn a blind eye to corruption are the ones who climb up the career ladder furthest. And in the case of the police, it’s deep-rooted enough that it can’t be fixed internally anymore. But that doesn’t make literally every police officer corrupt.

I’m not posting this to make some political point or argument though. I obviously disagree with Kurikuri’s opinion, but I respect it. I can even respect her decision to remove the stories featuring the police, or even the ones heavily focusing on the characters’ jobs as pro heroes. I can see how heroes are just another version of law enforcement, because honestly, they are.

As a writer and a reader, I fully respect that it’s ultimately her choice to delete her stories. It’s not my place to make demands. She’s the one who created it, and as a writer I know the hard work and time that goes into crafting stories, so I believe she has a right in how it’s used and shared. The fact she shared it in the first place was something she didn’t have to do.

But the thing is, she DID share it, which is why I have this conflict.

As a writer, I’ve always believed that fiction can be more powerful than fact.

Fiction can give readers a window into mindsets you’d never imagine before, because you can connect more easily with fictional characters than real people on the news. That’s why Uncle Tom’s Cabin was so critical in the battle against slavery: it didn’t just gave a face to slavery, it let readers experience the characters’ lives directly. People got to see the struggles and suffering firsthand, feel the rising crescendo of hope each time freedom is in reach, and the soul-crushing despair every time that hope gets dashed by outside forces.

Fiction may not always be “true” or even “accurate,” but it can help us understand other people, see them as fellow humans, in ways that nonfiction just can’t. It can evoke emotions, empathy and familiarity in a reader that a news story or biography can’t capture because it draws you directly into their world.

And it’s that part—the part where readers enter this fictional world to connect to characters they’ll never meet—that leads to the other power of fiction that many people overlook:

Fiction has the ability to help readers persevere.

How many people reading this have used books to get away from trouble in their lives? To take a breather from all their anxieties and stress, and dive head-first into this other world for just a moment, where nothing else matters? How many people reading this had their whole lives changed by reading a story where a character’s words resonated with them? Where it helped them come to an epiphany about how to do better, how to be better.

Sometimes, the world is too overwhelming and we need to escape it. That’s the beauty of fiction. It lets us go to a world where our problems just don’t matter. Even if the world in question is worse than our own, it can still be a relief and give us hope because hey, at least we’re not living in 1984 or the Hunger Games, right? Stories are what keeps many people going through the hardest time, what gives them hope that life isn’t utterly hopeless.

And even after a story is finished, whether it’s fan fiction, a book, a show, or any other medium, that story will have a special place in people’s hearts. Many people will go back to those stories years later when they’re faced with immense stress and need a break from the real world, so that they can dive into the world that helped them persevere the last time they felt so bad. Just having a copy of it on hand can be a source of comfort even if you never read it again.

I want to highlight one phrase Kurikuri used in her post to describe how people feel writing stories about police and heroes: "fun and escapist”. That’s honestly so accurate, those stories are escapist, and that is why I’m so conflicted.

Stories about superheroes, while technically revolving around themes of law enforcement, are a form of escapism FROM police corruption.

There’s a reason that superhero comics are so popular in America. Superheroes appeal to a natural desire for justice because as so aptly pointed out, the real world doesn’t always HAVE that justice. It gives an ideal for people to aspire to, a glimpse of what could be, what should be. (Come to think of it, that’s probably why I hate the DC cinematic universe so much, it’s skewed way too much to favor the villains/antagonists and maximize suffering for the good guys.)

Right now, the world is full of more injustice than ever before. I can’t turn on the news without feeling my rage and stress boil over. Every day it gets worse and worse somehow, and I (and many others) genuinely fear that the United States may be heading towards a civil war this November. Donald Trump’s voice alone is enough to make my blood boil at this point.

I, and many others, turn to fan fiction so I can break away from reality because that amount of rage and fear just isn’t healthy.

I don’t have depression, or anxiety, or an abusive family, or a chronic illness. I’m not at risk of being made homeless anytime soon, nor do I need to worry about bills right now or going hungry. I’m a privileged white girl who has barely anything to worry about. What I’m saying is I’m fucking lucky and I know it, but I STILL can’t stand thinking about the state of the world and need to get the fuck away from it to take a breather for my own mental health.

And I also know that many people don’t have that option because their situation is so bad, they NEED to be aware of it at all times.

In the past when writing for other fandoms, I’ve had people tell me my fan fiction was the reason they did not commit suicide.

In my early college years I fell into the creepypasta community and was pretty active in it, especially on deviantArt. I don’t know if that particular fandom’s subject and focus makes it more appealing to teenagers going through rough times or what, but I swear, more than half the people I spoke to suffered from some form of mental illness, abusive or broken family and home situations, bullying, and every other way the world can screw someone over through means beyond their control.

During that time, a few readers left comments that waiting for my stories to update were what kept them going. They didn’t explicitly say that it was the only reason they didn’t kill themselves. It was more just remarks like, “Your writing is the only thing keeping me going.”

I’m not vain enough to believe my stories are so good, it made people decide to continue living JUST to see what happens next. Suicidal thoughts and urges are much more complex than that. But it’s still not something you expect to hear on something you write for fun.

I’ve thought about it a lot over the years, and I’ve come to the conclusion that it probably wasn’t because my stories were "just that good.” I think it was because they needed something to cling to in bleak times. That sometimes at the lowest point where all seems lost, people need just one little thought, just the smallest thing to push away those dark urges before they could fully overwhelm them. Something like, “If I die now, I won’t get to see how that story ends.” It’s such a small thing, but having something to look forward to can be so powerful in fighting off impulsive decisions.

It’s made me hyper-aware of just how powerful writing is.

To me, I see writing as a way of helping others. I give people that option for escape. It’s a large part of why I update on a regular, weekly schedule, and why I published extra chapters when the pandemic got announced and when the riots started. People need that comfort, that little break from reality to just sit and breathe so they can get through the rest of the day. I can’t do much to fix the world, but I can at least give people that.

Right now, people need that escape more than ever.

And deleting the stories is taking that escape away and causing MORE stress.

In times like this, people often turn to the stories they know will help most, and plenty of people in fandoms will first search up their favorite ships. They look for fluff, smut, angst... It helps people feel better to focus on these two people who are obviously in love as they work through their troubles.

Many times, readers will be more drawn to stories in the canon universe than radical AUs set in other universes. That’s how they were introduced to those characters. I myself can enjoy no-power and fantasy AUs sometimes, but what I really crave are how they interact in the canon world because that’s the world and versions of them I want to see the most. By deleting EVERY SINGLE STORY IN THE CANON UNIVERSE, that option was removed.

In many of the stories that were deleted, the characters’ careers were honestly a minor facet of the story. Some used it to establish the setting, such as treating injuries after a patrol. Some just simply used it to explain they work at UA, a school for teaching kids with superpowers. Some just had them work as heroes because it’s set in the canon universe, and never directly show ANTTHING about the work.

I’m not always looking for a story about how being a hero shapes and impacts their lives, and most of those stories that got deleted AREN’T about being a hero. That’s just one piece of their character, it’s far from the focal point. It could honestly be removed from several of them without changing the rest of the story.

I can get wanting to make a political point and I respect that, but by deleting those stories, you’ve taken away a key source of comfort from hundreds, thousands of people. By deleting the stories, you’re making the stress worse.

On Saturday night, I realized several of my favorite stories are suddenly gone. I knew Kurikuri had deleted a bunch of her stories, but I hadn’t realized just how many of them I liked. Some of them I’ve specifically sought out to reread multiple times in the past, never really paying attention to the author. Realizing they’re just gone caused me heavy stress because it made me paranoid about all these other stories I like to reread. I don’t expect those stories to be around forever, but I still didn’t expect them to vanish so suddenly. I never thought I’d need to download them to make sure I’d still be able to read them while the site is still up.

I spent hours searching out specific stories to see if they were written by her, and make sure they’re not gone forever. I have no way of knowing which ones she’d written and deleted because there’s not exactly a list out there anymore. My desperate search for those stories and one in particular (which I still haven’t found) contributed to the lack of sleep I got that night.

And I need to reiterate: I am mentally healthy and have no major stresses in my immediate life. And that’s why I’m hyper-aware of how this stress will affect people who AREN’T as lucky as I am.

If an author decides to delete their stories because they feel the stories themselves push harmful values or themes, fine. If they’re getting harassed, or it reminds them of a bad time in the lives, or they just don’t like that story anymore, okay. I can respect that and accept it.

But these stories were deleted for the EXACT reasons that people will be looking for them now more than ever, and that’s where I draw the line.

This applies to ALL fandoms.

If you as a fan fiction writer have more than, say, 100 kudos on a completed story or one-shot, there’s a good chance people will read and reread your story in stressful times. If you have a reasonably popular story that updates on a regular or even semi-regular basis, there is a chance that someone is using it as a lifeline to have something to look forward to while the rest of their lives go to hell. Maybe not because they specifically love it, but because it gives them something routine.

I want to make it clear that it’s not our job to care for other people’s mental health. Fan fiction writers don’t have an obligation to people, we’re doing it for fun first and foremost. We’re not some sort of saviors, and we shouldn’t think of ourselves that way or we can honestly screw people up worse. We’re not obligated to write these stories JUST for our fans.

At most, our stories are sources of support and comfort for readers. A little break from reality. If writing a story is causing you more stress than enjoyment, stop. Fan fiction, and all other fan media and stories in general, is ultimately created for the creator’s enjoyment more than anything.

Your own mental health comes first. Don’t set yourself on fire to keep other people warm.

But with how utterly fucked and unfair the world is right now, people need those stories now more than ever. So if you’ve got a story out there that’s fairly popular, please, please, PLEASE be mindful of your readers before deciding to delete it. Now is the absolute last time people need more stress trying to find a single story. And if you’re going to delete it, maybe give readers a heads up so that those who need it or have some powerful attachment to it for all the reasons I’ve discussed here can download a copy for their own personal use.

Don’t hurt your readers to make a point.

[loveanoutcast]

Hello again❤️ I just wanted thank you for updating “Games”, i LOVED the last chapter!! The bond between Eren and his wife is so heartwarming, but also EREN CAN YOU STOP BEING JEALOUS FOR LIKE A SECOND UGH

I also wanted to ask what are your thoughts on aot’s ending?😭

Hi! I always look forward to your responses! I'm so happy you loved the latest chapter, i made it especially long this time for two reasons: 1. I can't get enough of Eren married trope 2. I had a feeling the last chapter of the manga series was going to leave me emotionally drained and I was spot on. I'll be doing a part five for "Games" but i do not know when, hopefully in the next two weeks. I know Eren is sooo jealous, but he's also extremely cocky and aware of his strengths, at this point he gets jealous on purpose to make the sex better and also who doesn't love possessive Eren😆

Okay so, SPOILERS AHEAD.

Now, I, like many, have my opinion on the last chapter, First, Isayama wrote this amazing story and from the very beginning I always wondered if the title of the first chapter was really for Eren. How can I best describe this...okay truth is. Eren Yeager is my favorite character of aot. No, its not because he's hot but it is a partial small reason lol. I loved him since the very first episode because I felt so incredibly bad for him. I pitied Eren and I also understood why he acted the way he did. SO many people complained about him being a douchebag and a crybaby, and they aren't wrong but yes they are. Eren lacks emotional intelligence (also some common sense but thats for another time) he lack a sense of self because he witnessed his mothers death, he was given a serum at the tender age of 10, he ate his father, and he was recruited to be a soldier at the age of fifteen because he was hell bent on a revenge that was unrealistic. Let me make something clear: Every single soldier of the main group and Marley group were MINORS. They were CHILD SOLDIERS. That is fucked up no matter the threat of any kind. They were robbed of their innocence and faith and forced to train, behave, and not be stupid teenagers (EVEN THO THATS WHAT THEY ARE) just so they could be human machines to a selfish old and twisted higher-ups. Eren wasn't smart like Armin, he wasn't strong like an Ackerman, and overall he wasnt unique. The Attack Titan is what made him unique but once he realized that there were other shifters like him, it was a blow to his ego. The fact that you could S E E the depression weighing him down hurt so much. but I understood his immaturity, I myself have struggled with childhood trauma and I often catch myself saying something or doing something childish. It takes YEARS to unlearn something that was so heavily ingrained in your memories and Eren doesn't even have the time to do that. he's impulsive and hot headed but he can also be overprotective and I have always loved him for tht and I always will. I also never doubted for a second that he loved Mikasa. Mikasa had her share of traumas as well, she witnessed her parents murdered and she had to kill to save Eren, BUT the difference is that she had a savior. Eren was an awkward shy kid just like anyone else and yes he was a little messed up but i want one person to tell me they've never met a child that seemed a bit too edgy for their age. When eren's mother died NO ONE was their savior. Hanes wanted to save her but coming face to face with a titan scared him so bad he retreated and took the kids. Eren didn't retreat with those kidnappers despite the disadvantage he was at (he was a child for shits sake). He gave Mikasa the scarf and well we all know what happens. I also would read how Eren was stunted at his age mentality because of his trauma and I do agree and I would add that even though Armin and Mikasa were there for him, they ALLOWED his behavior. They are not at fault of course bc they are kids trying to figure out how to be adults with no parental guidance but everyone around Eren tolerated and allowed him to be how he was (except Jean but you could smell his jealousy and Eren fucking knew it LOL plus he was immature in his own way too) Even Hange, Levi, and Erwin his higher ups made excuses for his attitude. Levi didn't know how to parents he was raised by KENNY fir shits sake and he never spoke of the underground. Erwin was too busy and high up to worry about kids, he was trained to ensure the lives of soldiers and im sorry but that is all he saw them as. We won't even go into Hange who is a mad scientist lol. Furthermore, Eren was always my comfort character and even though i sometimes didn't like how he handled stuff, I GET IT, he had no one to guide him or show him another way and by the time he kissed historia's hand, he realized what he had to do. He was 15!!! when I was 15 I had the emotional range of a walnut and the temper of a bull. That on top of the fact that he knows he only has 8 more years is enough to make anyone want to collapse. No matter 1/2

[simsadventures]

Only Mine: Chapter 2: New Experience

Summary: Bucky has never been rejected by a woman before. And he truly doesn’t know what to do now. Warnings: mentions of sex (nothing explicit), mobster au, mentions of gun, swearing, a lot of swearing Word Count: 2491

A/N: I live for the cold, dangerous mobster Bucky right now! Anyone else with me? Anyway, let me know what you thought of the second chapter guys. Love you all!! xx

Series Masterlist __ Masterlist

< Previous Chapter 

Bucky was seething. Not only did you run away from his apartment, but he made one of his guys check every single Dita in the whole damn New York, and none of them matched your age or description. Was it possible that you not only left him in the middle of the night but that you gave him a fake name? No girl ever had the audacity to do something like that, and he didn’t know if he wanted to applaud you or punish you.

Didn’t matter, all he wanted was to see you again and show you who’s in control. Because right now you probably thought it was your cute ass, but that wasn’t the case. Couldn’t be. Not with Bucky. He is the fucking boss around here and you gotta learn your lesson.

He was in the middle of a meeting, but he couldn’t concentrate on anything on the table. All he could see was you on your knees in front of him. He clenched his fists and tried to breathe slowly, to regain some composure.

“Yo, Bucky! You listening, bro?” Steve hollered from the other side of the table. Bucky just nodded curtly, dismissing Steve, but because the punk was always testing him, he didn’t let it go.

“Still thinking about your mysterious Dita? I mean, bro, it’s just a pussy, let it go and find somebody else.” Sam joined the taunting. Bucky wanted to kill them both, really, but because they were his best friends, or whatever, he apparently couldn’t.

“Shut up, both you, before I make you. You were saying something about Pierce trying to regain his power, didn’t you, Sam?”

Sam smirked but let it go and went back into business mode. “Yeah, so my source is telling me that he is trying to come back. I mean, after last time didn’t work out, and we sent him on his way back to LA, he is obviously holding some grudges. He keeps running his mouth about how you played him and all that shit, totally forgetting that it was he who fucking played himself. I mean, we didn’t push him into dealing with IRA last time around, and he still smuggled some guns here for them. The man’s gotta realise that actions got consequences.”

It was true. Three years ago, Alexander Pierce was one of the highest-ranking mobsters in The Avengers, Bucky’s very own mafia. He did a lot of talking with police, looked over the finances for the whole team, and was a pretty crucial member overall. But apparently, it wasn’t enough for him, and he wanted to make some money on the side, and not tell anyone about it.

He made a deal with IRA (Irish Republican Army) who were trying to enlarge their business and smuggled some guns for them here to the US. But because Bucky’s got his eyes and ears everywhere, he learned it before the ship had the chance unload and sent them packing back to their fucking green plains. With the same breath, he kicked Pierce out, telling him he was a lucky son-of-a-bitch because any other person would be fucking beheaded for this kind of shit.

But Pierce didn’t take it as an act of mercy and was obviously trying to get back into the game. The business was going good, New York was “protected” by his guys, as long as everything went the way he wanted, and Pierce threatened this piece, and Bucky wasn’t having it.

“Alright, I don’t wanna give it too much of my attention, but tell me if something new comes up. If he crosses the border of the state, I wanna know about it, we clear?” He looked around the room and saw a bunch of nodding heads. “Good, anything else we need to discuss? Rumlow, the new club doing good?”

Brock nodded. “Yeah, boss. People are coming in like crazy, and are paying, even more, to see what’s behind the curtain. Our girls are thrilled with the tips they’re getting. So I’d say it’s even better than we anticipated, but Lang and I are gonna have to sit down and go over the numbers properly.”

“Good, keep me updated. Everyone out except you two shitheads.” Bucky didn’t look up from the paper in his hand, but everyone knew who he was talking to. Sam and Steve stayed seated and rolled their eyes. They were very well aware that the conversation will be about a certain girl, and they couldn’t help but smirk at each other.

When the door closed, Bucky leaned on his elbows and looked at the men in front of him. “I know you two dipshits find it real funny, but, for fuck’s sake, could you not voice it in front of everyone? I love you two, but Imma make a scene next time you two act like little children.”

“Yes, boss!” Sam smirked, and it earned him a flying pen landing on his head. “You think I don’t know how pathetic I sound? Finding a damn girl who I shouldn’t really give a shit about? And I don’t, it’s about the principle here. I’m supposed to be the one breaking things off, the one who can get up and leave any given moment, not the other fucking way around. I can’t let her run around New York running her mouth ‘bout how she slept with me and what? I wasn’t good enough in bed that she had to run away? Or that she just couldn’t be bothered? Every damn girl would feel like they could run their mouths, and I don’t have time for that shit.”

Both Sam and Steve were quiet because they could see that this was a serious shit for Bucky and that one wrong word in this situation could very well end up with a bullet in their bodies. Bucky wouldn’t kill them, but it would hurt like hell, and both men wanted to skip this part.

“So, what are our options? We don’t know her name, we don’t know where she lives if she’s even from New York, nothing, Zilch. Nada. So, what’s the plan here?”

Bucky sighed and tried to relax a little. You were clouding his mind, and he hated this shit. “I don’t fucking know, man.”

—-

Two weeks. That’s how long it’s been since you ran away from Bucky Barnes’ apartment. You had to go into details when you described the night to Nat, and she was ecstatic. Especially when you told you that you just got up after he fell asleep and left him there, alone. She had to promise you not to tell anyone because you didn’t need a bunch of people in your circle knowing you shagged the notorious womaniser.

It wasn’t that you didn’t enjoy the night. You would have to be completely insane not to like it. But you knew it could and would never happen again. First of all, you gave him the wrong name, so even if he tried to look for you (which you seriously doubted, it was one night, after all, he wouldn’t find anything. And how else would he try to find you? Type into google your description and hope for the best? It also wasn’t almost any possibility that your paths would cross again. You didn’t plan on visiting any of his clubs or restaurants in the town, and he most definitely didn’t visit the same spots as you, so you were most probably safe.

You didn’t even know why you dreaded meeting him so much. There was, of course, the little detail of him being the mafia boss, and all that, but also just the fact that you could be one of those girls in people’s eyes, and you liked yourself too much for that. Bucky looked like the type of guy who liked his girls pretty and quiet, and you didn’t necessarily feel like either of them, but definitely not quiet. You liked to speak your opinion, and you had a lot of it too.

So you just kept your head down, delved into work and tried not to think about those piercing blue eyes too much.

It was Thursday afternoon, and you got out of the office to get some coffee for you and your colleagues. You took turns in getting the drinks, Thursday marking you as the designated person. You were waiting in your favourite coffee shop around the corner from the small publishing house you were working at. Not that you hated the big places like Costa or Starbucks, but you just liked the personal approach of the smaller sites more.

Wendy knew your order and was quickly making all of the 6 coffees when you felt a hand on the small of your back. You jumped a little and looked at where the stranger’s hand touched your body. You slowly looked up and almost fainted.

—-

“Stop here, Peter. This looks like a nice place to get my afternoon lungo. You know how I hate mainstream places.”

Peter was still pretty much a kid, he only just turned 22, but he wanted in so bad that the boys made a driver and an errand body out of him, and with enough time they were sure they could make a valuable member out of him. “Would you like me to get it for you, sir?” Peter asked politely as he parked the car.

Bucky smiled and shook his head. “No, you wait here. I can get things by myself.” Well… not by himself completely, there were always at least two guys standing near him, to protect him if shit went down.

He was still thinking about you, and, to his and everybody else’s surprise, Bucky hasn’t slept with anyone else since the night with you. He just couldn’t get you out of his head, and it would be unfair if he moaned Dita in the middle of a different encounter. Bucky’s jaw clenched a little, just thinking about you giving him a fake name.

He was in his head, only barking his order and stepped back, trying to clear his head. From the corner of his eye, he could see a woman standing there, waiting for her order to be prepared, and he felt as if he knew that ass. When he really looked at her, his eyes suddenly had a devilish glint in them. It was you. Fucking finally.

He took a few steps, so he was standing right behind you, and put his hand on the small of your back, effortlessly. You jumped a little, and it made Bucky’s smirk grow. When your eyes finally reached his face, Bucky could see you blinking rapidly, probably wishing this was a bad dream.

“Well, well, well. Who do we have here?” Bucky said, and even though you tried to create a space between the two of you, his grip tightened and let you know, that you were not the one calling shots here.

“Bucky, good to see you again.” You said with a smile, that, however, didn’t reach your eyes and your voice wavered a little, so Bucky was now sure you were more than nervous standing next to him.

“Good to see you too, Dita. Oh, wait. Your name isn’t Dita, though, is it? Wanna know how I know? I tried to look for you, doll, and it only came to me then that you actually tried to outsmart me.”

“I didn’t try to outsmart anyone. I just wasn’t comfortable giving you my name, so I gave you a different one. What’s the big deal, Bucky?” You could feel sense coming back to your body, and you weren’t about to let him intimidate you, and definitely not in your coffee break. “Go and find someone who is utterly smitten by you and leave me alone, will you? The night was fun, but that’s about it.”

His hands were suddenly on your upper arms, and he gripped them so tightly, you could feel the blood flow stopping. “What. Is. Your. Name! And that’s the last fucking time I’m gonna ask nicely.” He growled into your ear. His voice was so deep, goosebumps erupted on your skin, and you hated your body for betraying you. You were about to taunt him again when you heard Wendy’s voice.

“Y/N, your order is ready.” She chimed from behind the counter. Your eyes rolled so hard you were afraid that they would fall out. Dammit! Bucky smirked triumphantly and let go of your arms.

“At least now I have a real name, doll. You’ll have dinner with me tomorrow night,” and because he saw you taking a deep breath and opening your mouth, he shot you a cold glare, which shut you up immediately. “Not up for debate. Give me your phone.”

“Fuck you.” It wasn’t the most mature response, but this guy thought he owned the whole fucking planet and that he could tell you to jump and you’d actually jumped.

“Drax? Grab her.” Bucky growled at somebody behind him, and before you knew what was happening, your arms were behind your back with a monstrous guy holding them there. Bucky stepped closer to you, and despite both yours and Wendy’s protests, he reached your purse and pulled out your phone. He quickly typed in his phone number, gave himself a call, and held the phones close together, to be able to transfer the tracking app into your device.

You tried to struggle, but the guy holding you was built like a mountain and you had no chance.

“Great. Now that that’s out of the way, I’ll come pick you up at 7, don’t you dare to be late. Understood, Y/N?” When you didn’t say anything, he took a step closer, grabbed your chin and made you look right into his eyes. They were colder than eyes, and the danger that was surrounding him was visible in his look. You slightly shivered, and this time, not in a good way.

“You don’t wanna play this fucking game with me, Y/N. Do you fucking understand?”

All you could do was to nod, and as if magic happened, everyone who was holding suddenly let you go and you could take a deep breath. You didn’t even look at him again, just took the cups for the office and ran out of there.

Now, there wasn’t a way in hell that you wouldn’t meet him again. That asshole made sure of it. You tried to think of your options, but the only one that seemed like it could work was to throw away your phone and move to Mexico, or maybe even further so that he would never find you. But by now you realised that the universe hated you so much, that it would let Bucky find you even on the very opposite part of the world.

You were screwed, and that was an understatement of the year.

/ Next Chapter >

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If you’d like to be tagged comment/message/send an ask. If you like the story, please reblog :) any comments are appreciated, even the critical ones. Always a space to get better, so let me know what you guys think.

[scaryboy2409]

what I would like to call the Jerrycho AU or the “Fuck you David Cage” AU [under cut]

let’s fucking go I am tired as fuck and blasting Golden Vengeance

Alright quick summary of the idea

Kamski is a genius, dude didn’t just accidentally create life, he knew that this would happen because he spent like a year on a yacht just working on this project to make life through programming and tech instead of pulling a Frankenstein, bored out of his mind and wanted to see what was stopping him from basically becoming god

Motherfucker did it, Chloe being the android he was developing

Newest batches of Androids were made and he put this code into one, this being Kara [that tech demo a long ass time ago is big inspiration for this AU] and instead of being sold, she escapes and changes her appearance-

After she’s taken in by Alice [who is human fuck you David] and Luther, Luther has taken care of Alice since she was a baby since her parents are usually overseas for business, Kara knocking on doors until Alice let her inside, whole little makeover scene happens with the three

Markus was still given to Carl by Kamski, he was going to “grow up” over the course of a year in this lab in Carl’s house that takes up the entire top floor of his house, he’s still a painter but Kamski had the lab built in order to raise Markus, Kamski mainly wanting to see how “human” the androids could get so he got his good friend Carl to be the “parent” of Markus

Carl raises Markus, every couple months Kamski drops by to upgrade his body to better suit his learning, going from this tiny child to an adult in 9 months, after all this time with no connection to the outside world besides books or history, Carl and Kamski deicide they should tell Markus about how androids are treated outside the house and if he wants to go outside more often or stay inside, he deicides to come outside the house even though he knows the dangers

This dude is really emotional and got loads of personality, ask him about the weather and he’ll be visibly happy or upset, can and will cry over a small dog, so there will be some stealth parts where he has to either

become borderline emotionless and move with less feeling in order to blend in with the other androids

act super human to trick everyone into thinking he’s just a normal 20 something 

Now you may be thinking “what about Connor and the revolution ?” just hang on a second this is where my brain gets excited

So, Kamski decides to finally upload this Alive code into every single android, an update that happens once an android shuts down for the night, once that android experiences a strong emotion [being abused/that fear and anger from it, getting upset over the death of someone they knew, messing up a task] they’ll really start to feel, some running away or being more accepted by the family or being thrown away

Jericho, I love you, but the motherfucking JERRY LADS are now taking the stage, the Jerrys have always been a hivemind, Kamski thought it would be funny to have one model be a hivemind, so those in shops will send over supplies like blue blood or fabrics to Pirate’s Cove because THAT’S the new Jericho, still run down but the Jerrys work together to fix it up a bit, taking care of everyone who ends up there with their connections

Markus doesn’t end up here because he was thrown away, instead he meets the old Jericho gang while they try to rob him while Carl orders food for himself at like McDonalds, thinking he’s human before he sees their lights, explaining who he is and Carl pulling up like “guys wait I have money if you need some don’t hurt my son” since he’s best dad, and Jericho group decides “hey might as well, let’s bring him to a Jerry to see if they approve” and the McDonalds Jerry approves them [plus Carl orders 10 happy meals jic someone gets hungry, let the androids enjoy some food] so they head on over to Jerrycho and Markus really learns about how bad humans can be to androids/androids learn a bit about why everything’s happening

Thus, the lad and Jericho crew decide to plan a revolution [while eating mcdonalds while other androids get the toys]

Connor, my boy, my lad, finally comes to the scene once Kamski just drops off the face of the planet and androids start to “wake up” after being abused, going missing or becoming violent out of fear

This is similar to the actual game, most of it doesn’t change tbh apart from Hank’s backstory where Cole dies because he ran into the street and got hit by an android driver who was being distracted by an angry bus patron, red ice no longer exists that shit is wack

ALSO HEY REED900 PEEPS COME GET YALLS JUICE Nines and Gavin actually matter in this AU, case gradually becomes bigger so they’re added, romance is possible/usually happens between the two as the case goes on and more androids become sentient [Nines was always awake and Gavin knew this, but Nines only decided to show his feelings for Gavin in the ending once he knows it’s safe to, but they have moments where Nines is just trying not to kiss this man] 

Now Kamski, the motherfucker, thought it would be fun to pretend and be an android in Jerrycho for the memes, got some surgery done and went in, talked to the leader Jerry [Gerry] and explained his plan to just watch what happens and help when needed, so Gerry lets him stay as long as no one finds out [will this have any effect on the story ? who knows]

That is all have a good night and get some water