#hurryhurryhurry

[lookforanewangle]

got tagged by @curiosity-killed !!

Gimme a line from your latest WIP or project that involves hands. (Search-find hand, hands, fingers, fingerpad, nails, wrist, palm, thumb, heel, lifelines etc)

“Stay right here, Chris,” he says, and he and Bailey jump up onto the cab, extending hand and maw to get people to safety. Bailey has someone’s shirt clamped in her jaws, scrabbling for purchase against the metal; Buck reaches for them, helps pull them up the rest of the way and turns to the next, hurryhurryhurry just hang on—

tagging: @boasamishipper @coureirsix @doodledrawreblogs @forasecondtherewedwon @qin-ling @inell and anyone else who wants to play!!

[writinginthesecrettrees]

So yeah.

Dean finds the porn Sam did to make ends meet in Stanford, and he doesn't say anything. But suddenly Centerfold is playing non-stop ("Driver picks the music, bitch.") and belting out "My blood runs cold, my memory has just been sold, my angel is the centerfold" and it doesn't take a pre-law genius long to figure out what's eating at him.

And maybe they never really broke up but that last time (furtive, angry, desperate, hurryhurryhurry before the bus pulls up) had been a goodbye and they both know that Dean's flings and Sam's almost-fiancee in those years weren't cheating. But this... getting money for getting fucked on film feels like a betrayal. If Sam would rather do porn than call Dean for help... Maybe the betrayal was his. He could have gone with Sam, could have kept him safe, could have gotten a job or hustled pool or, hell, he could have done the porn so Sammy could focus on school and stay his only. If Sam was doing porn, Dean had failed him. As a brother, as a lover--

Sam's voiice cuts through his thoughts. "I pretended they were you. I just... I was so empty without you."

And he wants to say he was too but instead he says "looked stuffed full to me," under his breath, half-hoping Sam won't hear and he doesn't look. Can't bear to see the kicked puppy hurt in Sam's eyes that he doesn't deserve because it was Dean's failing. Dean's fault.

And that's why he deserves the "Bet it took you all of an hour to fall into some bar slut's bed" Sam throws at him and the only time he's ever heard that venomous tone was aimed at Dad. Dean takes a breath, tries to pull his thoughts into some semblance of an argument and maybe if they get it all out, bleed out the poison, they can be them again, but Sam sighs before Dean can respond. "Dean, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."

"Yeah, whatever," Dean says, because he still wants that fight but if Sam's gonna be all mature. He glances over to see Sam with some wry smile and a bottomless sadness etched on his face, quickly hidden when he notices Dean looking.

"Yeah, whatever," Sam says and maybe it's his imagination, maybe wishful thinking, but Dean could swear there's longing there, some note that reminds him of years gone by. Back when they still tried to be just brothers.

And it's the way Sam chuckles as he calls Dean "Jerk" that has Dean changing the music, and he's not belting it out but he still sings along with "buckle up baby, it's a bumpy ride, we're two kids hitching down the road of life" and the ache in his heart eases just a little when Sam's hand slides over to brush against his leg.

[neganium]

uwaaahhhhh it's not in the news yet but the signups are open hurryhurryhurry

[butterflymarks]

SCENE 1. INT. THE SILVER LINE APARTMENT BUILDING, NIGHT.

@humblefigs said: "okay, okay. just stay calm, stay calm, stay calm." — for event 001!

THESE DAYS, there was little difference in mapping out this stairwell in the dark than there was with the lights on, kiyeon decided. steps had to come slower, but for the most part he'd been slow all his life anyway, feeling along physical and proverbial walls for guidance because the alternative of asking for help was usually too risky and too embarrassing. at least tonight he couldn't do anything about it. thank the powers above, aeternal or not: this nightmare wasn't induced by his shitty genetics.

sumin's voice echoed through the stairwell, bounced off the walls and rang over his ears. okay, it's okay. she was almost in time with their overlapping footsteps, the cadence of her voice soothing down the one in his own head shouting, HURRYHURRYHURRY.

"i'm calm. i think i'm about to trip. but i'm so calm." and scared, but what was new?

his pocket buzzed, making him jump so badly that he almost knocked into sumin before they made it past the 5th floor landing. kiyeon fished it out, curling his other arm tight over his stomach like he could squeeze the shaking out of it. another notification had come. "they said they're out of flashlights and candles already." he lingered at the edge of the landing, eyes flickering to a safe spot on sumin's hands—the last thing he needed was to terrify her here. his markings shifted above his mask, forming and unforming anxious whorls around the visible parts of his eyes and cheeks. "we...should still go, right? maybe we'll still find someone who has extras?"

[eaglehorn]

This actually the basis for my theory of why in the US South everything moves slowly, and in the US North it’s always hurryhurryhurry.

You move quickly in the South, you DIE. You move slowly in the North (without proper gear), you DIE.

I don't know if this is common knowledge - or common sense - but just in case someone doesn't know this and needs to know this: Walking speed affects comfort temperatures in clothing! I'm a fast walker who hates thick bulky winter clothes, so my survival tactic for cold weather is breezing through it as fast as possible. The exercise keeps me warm, and if I start feeling chilly, I simply walk faster. At roughly around -30 celsius I am invisible to the naked eye.

My partner, however, is simply built different. Got every recessive Neanderthal gene in his entire family bloodline, and he collects camping gear. He's got winter clothes that he looks forward to trying out in -25, insanely freezing temperatures do not come often enough for him. He doesn't need a survival tactic for cold weather walks, he's the human version of those sled dogs that take face down naps in a pile of snow and refuse to come back inside. His comfortable preferred walking speed is also about 50% of mine.

It was about -18 celsius today when we decided to get groceries on foot. We both got dressed in what we respectively consider a reasonable amount of clothing for a 3 km walk in this weather. Neither of us was incorrect, there was only the slight problem of not considering the walking speed mismatch.

We took turns in almost dying, alternating between my inability to keep warm and his inability to keep up.

[im-really-confused121]

I like to write my palm cards with annotations such as

Literally breathe

S l o w D o w n

For gods sake flip the palm card over

Hurryhurryhurry

[comicframeswithoutcontext]

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[petricakegames]

Devlog #3: Haesel Hotel

You know what's really fun and definitely a *crucial* part of the creative process? Designing fake logos for your fake world:

"What an odd concept that was to you at first--that some people live at the Haesel. A hotel isn't a home, you had thought then, it's a place you go to get away from home. But the more time you spend here, the more you understand never wanting to leave."

On the plus side, a bunch of actual work has gotten done on the game, too! I'm still slowly figuring out a lot of back-end and UI stuff but I'm pleased with how it's coming along. The entire prologue sequence is written and mostly scripted. The first third of one of the branching paths is written. And I've got squishy plot shapes for the others--plot gummy worms, if you will.

Word count: 5,000 approx

I've been working a lot on improving my descriptions and setting the vibe. There's still a lot of room for improvement, but it's been fun to recognize the moments in my writing that I can make better. In the past, I've rushed to the finish line--hurryhurryhurry get it done get it posted get on to the next thing. It was not a process that brought me much satisfaction or happiness. With this, I'm taking my time. I'm mulling and pruning and making it better. (I hope, anyway) Though I'm looking forward to the finished game and sharing it, I'm not racing to try and get there. Damn, it's such a relief 😂

Suspect #2: Tiffani Delareux (formerly Brightman), the ex-wife

"Mrs. Brightman--you mean Ms. Delareux--is a newer addition to the regular faces at the Haesel. Former wife of Jason, the deceased, she has been a long-term guest of the hotel for the last few months as her condo undergoes renovations.

Supposedly.

Host of the local morning show Rise Happy, Y'all!, frequent star in tv commercials and a featured extra on an episode of Murder She Wrote, Ms. Delareux brings the allure of celebrity to your hotel. Though several of the staff believe the allure has more to do with her ex-husband and their less than secret affair. You're the only one who seems to have heard anything about their new business partnership..."

Up next: the Detective, more writing and more scripting!