#i don’t intend for this to blow up btw i just want to share

[fekoff]

i forgot i made this months ago

[daffodil-mania]

The Itch

Stanford era!Sam Winchester x fem!Reader. Swearing, sexually suggestive/explicit language, mentions of drugs and alcohol. No smut (yet); this one’s a good ole fashioned slow burn. Takes place around 2002-ish

Author’s notes: Helloooo! I said I had something longer, and here it is. I intend on turning this into a multi-part fic, so keep your peepers peeled! I didn’t post sooner because while I had ideas for this fic, nothing was really clicking for me. However, @uncouth-the-fifth recently shared some Sam AI chatbots she’d made (which I highly recommend you use btw) and after using one of them my creative juices started flowing again, and out popped this fic. Enjoy!

—

The air is thick with the competing smells of booze, weed, and sweat. Some fratbro’s shitty spin on house music is booming at a deafening volume throughout the house, and all around you people are drinking, grinding; generally having the kind of time you’d expect at a frat party. It’s Valentine’s Day, so the amount of couples making out in corners has increased drastically, much to your chagrin. Your friends had dragged you here under the pretense that you all needed to blow off some steam after another grueling week of tests and homework. You have to admit, the idea had been tempting; you don’t consider yourself a party person, but you’d had this itch to do something outside of your normal routine. The itch had developed suddenly a week ago while you were standing in line at your favorite coffee place, debating on ordering your regular cup of joe or really spicing it up and asking for a shot of espresso when you saw him.

He was good-looking, sure; tall, despite his seated position at one of the tables, broad-shouldered and well-built with these soft hazel eyes that just screamed “kicked puppy in need of someone to take care of me”. But none of that is what kept your gaze on him. No, as ridiculous as it sounds, it was his hands. Huge, muscular hands that made your mouth water just thinking about them. Ten long, thick fingers that dexterously flew across his keyboard as he typed. You were hit with a barrage of hand-related fantasies ranging from dirty to holy fuck that’s dirty when the barista cleared her throat and brutally snapped you back to reality, causing you to stammer out an apology and place your drink order with haste.

Ever since then, you’d been haunted by the memory of those hands and felt “the itch”, as you called it. It was an aching want that existed deep in your gut, and it demanded satisfaction. It clawed at you, showing you images of those ginormous hands pawing you, squeezing your neck, your tits, anything they could reach. You’d done your best to resist, throwing yourself into your coursework, hoping desperately that if you ignored the itch it would go away. But it didn’t. So here you are, at a frat party, trying to find a way to scratch your itch so that the ghost of those hands could be put to rest and stop tormenting you.

You take a sip of the drink you’ve been nursing all night in a secluded corner of the living room and make a face. It tastes like piss and vodka’s evil offspring. You look around for a place to abandon your solo cup, but decide that you should properly dispose of it so no one knocks it over, or worse, drinks it. You crane your neck over the sea of sweaty, horny college students and map a path to the kitchen. Your friends had abandoned you long ago in favor of going onto the floor to dance, so your trip to the kitchen will have to be a solo mission. You take a deep breath, mustering up your courage and preparing yourself for the bumpy journey ahead, and plunge into the crowd. Things are going smoothly enough and it looks like you’ll actually make it to the kitchen unscathed when someone suddenly slams into you. Thankfully, you’re pushed into a sorority girl, so you manage to not eat shit or get trampled to death. Unfortunately, this crushes your drink against your chest, drenching the entire front of your top. Miraculously, the sorority sister is spared, and she doesn’t even seem to register the fact that she’s been bumped into.

You turn around to glare at whoever just ruined your favorite shirt and come face-to-face with a solid wall of muscle. You have to look up to get a good look at your assailant, and you see it’s him. The guy from the coffee shop. All of your anger is quickly replaced by an interesting cocktail of shock, embarrassment, and need. You thought he was big in the coffee shop, but standing before him now makes it clear just how fucking massive this guy is. He clears six feet easily, and you can tell he’s got miles of muscle underneath the henley he’s layered under a faded tee shirt.

You manage to drag your eyes away from his chest and see that all of the color has drained from his face, puppy-dog eyes apologetic and wide with shock. He’s speaking to you, but with your height difference and the ear-splitting music you can’t hear him. You pull a confused expression and have to shout “what?” a few times over the music before it gets through to him that you can’t hear a fucking word he’s said. He looks around quickly, then gestures for you to follow him. You do, confusion and nerves swirling around sickly in your stomach. Eventually he leads the two of you to a quieter corner of the room, and resumes his rapid-fire apologizing. “Jesus, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to bump into you, I swear, I was just trying to get away from my friend who kept trying to introduce me to this girl and I—“

You hold up a hand to silence him and force yourself to smile. “It’s okay, shit happens, I get it.” He shakes his head, unsatisfied with your response. “No, no, seriously. I feel awful about your shirt—“ you don’t miss the way his eyes dart down to look at your front, and you realize with a blush that he could probably see down your v-neck if he wanted to, “—and I really want to make it up to you. I have an extra shirt in my car if you want to change, and I’ll get you a new drink, I promise.”

The poor guy looks like he’s about to have an anxiety attack, so you wave your hand again before laying it on his arm. His eyes snap to where your hand has curled around his forearm and you jerk it away, uncertain of what possessed you to touch him. Great, now he thinks I’m some kind of perv. You clear your throat before you start talking again. “Um, yeah, a-a new shirt would be cool. Oh, but don’t worry about the drink though; it uh, it sucked. I was actually on my way to get rid of it when you bumped into me, so maybe spilling it was a blessing in disguise.” Jesus Christ, you’re rambling and stuttering like a kid asking out their high school crush. You nervously tuck some loose hair behind your ear and try to inhale some calming breaths, cringing at your social ineptitude, and look up at him. He’s smiling kindly, revealing two adorable dimples that make you want to melt into a warm gooey puddle on the floor.

“Yeah, I tried one of the drinks earlier; I don’t know what was in it but it was not good.” He scrunches up his face and pretends to gag, which pulls some genuine laughter out of you. His grin gets wider and it makes his eyes crinkle, and this has your stomach doing somersaults and your pussy clenching around nothing. The song changes and after a smiley beat passes he leans in a little closer and tells you his name. “My name’s Sam,” he practically shouts into your ear, “Sam Winchester.” You turn your head ever so slightly so you can give him your name in return. “Y/N L/N. Nice to meet you.” Sam straightens up and you extend a hand for him to shake. He accepts, enveloping your hand in one of his gigantic palms. You fight to keep a blush off of your cheeks. Your hands fall, but he doesn’t release you. Instead, he gives your hand a small tug, and nods over his shoulder. “C’mon. I’ll take you to my car.”

You dutifully trail behind him, your hand still wrapped up in his. If you weren’t appreciative of Sam’s height before, you are now; he effortlessly parts the throng of people around you, allowing the two of you to walk to the door with ease. And it’s only when the two of you step out into the chill of the February night air that he lets go of your hand, which you try not to read into. You cross your arms over your chest to trap some of the warmth that is rapidly escaping your body, your still-wet top clinging coldly to your frame. There are a few wasted stragglers on the lawn, and the music starts to fade as Sam leads you to his car. You’re mildly surprised when you see what it is; a black Honda Civic sedan. It’s a newer model, but it’s nothing fancy. You get the sense that while Sam isn’t very materialistic, he takes pride in his possessions and their upkeep. He pops open the trunk as you rub your arms, wishing that you had opted for more layers than just your v-neck long sleeve and a lacy camisole. You glance back at the house, wondering what your friends are doing as Sam goes through the trunk. After a minute he produces a black Metallica tee. You accept it gratefully and smile at him, cocking an eyebrow. “Metallica? You’ve got good taste.”

Sam clears his throat and awkwardly looks at his feet, his expression a bit pained. “Actually, it is… was… my brother’s.” He says, looking up at you through his bangs. You nod, and decide against probing for more information. He’s a stranger doing you a kindness; you don’t need to know about whatever family history that is capable of eliciting such a reaction from him. You glance at the road and then back at the house before looking at Sam. Your cheeks feel warm. “Um, do you mind covering me? Sorry, I know that—“

Sam cuts you off, flustered. “No, god yeah, of course. I’m so sorry, I didn’t even think.” He admits sheepishly, redness creeping up his cheeks as he rubs the back of his neck. You shake your head. “It’s okay, really. Um, and thank you, for the shirt, I mean. You really didn’t have to.” His expression softens and he gives a small shrug of his shoulders. “‘Course I did. I’m the one who bumped into you like a total jerk. This is the least I can do.” His response only serves to intensify your burgeoning crush on him.

You both stand there for a minute, just looking into each other’s eyes, something similar to tension but too clumsy and new to be called that building between you. A fierce shiver courses through you, and Sam apparently remembers that you asked him to cover you. He maneuvers the two of you so that the car is blocking you from any prying eyes lurking on the street, and he places himself in front of you to shield you from the people in the house. He turns his back to you, giving you some more privacy, and you murmur a quick thank you as a burst of heat goes straight to your core.

You quickly shed yourself of both your camisole and your top, thankful to be in a dry shirt that doesn’t reek of alcohol any more. You tap his arm to let him know when you’re done, and he turns to face you. He sees that you’re still shivering and wordlessly goes back to his trunk, leaving you a bit perplexed and holding your sopping bundle of shirts in your hands. He pulls out a gray zip-up hoodie and stands before you again. “You look cold,” he says, obviously. It’s a sweet gesture, and it makes your heart flutter in your chest. Sam holds his hand out for your shirts so that you can pull on his hoodie, and you swap your bundles. As you pull on the hoodie, you tell him, “I really do appreciate what you’re doing for me. Most people would’ve just let me freeze.” You chuckle quietly, racking your brain for some other way to express your gratitude without sounding like a broken record.

Sam shakes his head, and another sweet, sympathetic smile graces his face. “Y/N, again, it was the least I could do, believe me.” You nod, and then gesture vaguely for your shirts. “Oh, right,” he says with a small laugh, adorably absentminded, and hands them over. As you go to take them, your fingertips brush against his, and you feel like you’ve been electrocuted. Deliciously, wonderfully electrocuted. The contact causes you to jerk your hand away, dropping the shirts. “Shit, sorry—“ you curse, and the two of you drop to your knees simultaneously to retrieve them. Your hands meet again, but this time the contact lingers. You lift your head to find Sam’s eyes boring into yours, his lips slightly parted, his cheeks flushed. And that’s when you feel it again.

The itch.

—

Author’s notes: I know this wasn’t a *super* long fic but I’m slowly pushing myself to write longer stuff. One of these days I’ll write something longer than 2,000 words, I promise. Anyways, thanks for reading!

[aphroditesswan]

pink dolphin sunset

stoner suna rintarou x latina stoner reader 

warnings : weed usage, mention of lighters and smoke cuz well,, it’s weed. implied underaged smoking also terrible google translate spanish cause i didn’t grow up latin i grew up filipino so i’m a no sabo kid 😭🙏 

notes : book of life ref if u haven’t seen it go see it NOWWWWW. all lowercase is intended btw.

summary : suna had invited you on a date, just to lounge around and smoke in his car late at night and wow, how could you ever possibly refuse that offer?? 

genre : mostly fluff i think 

suna was always plain faced. he always had this look in his eyes that could only be described as empty but not in the sad way, in the way that there simply wasn’t a thought behind those dark, almost beady eyes. 

well, except for when he looked at you. 

the eyes that showed nothing but boredom would suddenly soften at the mention of you, at the sight of you, at hearing your voice or even catching your eyes in a brief meaningless glance across the room. 

you don’t even know how you got here. you’re sitting in the front seat of his car, some tory lanez song playing cause you shuffled his playlist, one he totallyyy didn’t make in advance for when this happened, talking and sharing a bong with a bowl that’s been packed maybe ten times. 

it’s safe to say the both are high and throughly dumbed out. suna’s ignoring the vibrating messages from his pocket, only staring into your eyes as he holds the light to the bowl to light it up for you like any good man would do. you wait, sucking up the smoke once the time comes, throwing your head back to make a couple ‘o’s with the smoke. it’s the best you can do for now, a bit too focused on the lovesick eyes the man in the drivers seat is giving you.

it’s not his fault you’re nothing but perfection in his eyes, he can’t help but admire how nice you look sitting in the passenger seat of his sleek black challenger with the seat of his black fabric on the passenger seat covered with the fluffy thulian pink colored cushion he had bought just for you once you agreed to do this with him. he had been practically waiting, begging any and all gods above for this moment since he heard from your best friend and the annoying atsumu that you smoked. 

he was so focused on your pretty face that he hadn’t noticed you took the lighter from him, taking another hit from the bong while he was distracted. as you went to take yet another hit, he snapped out of his daze and narrowed his eyes at you. 

“aw come on, with all you’re smoking you owe me some weed. plus, it’s not your turn. hand it over, pretty.” 

he held onto the bottom of the bong, smirking a bit as he gentle took it from you, searching the cup holders for the small lighter when he looked up and saw you holding it with your index and middle finger out to him. he snatched it, both of you rolling your eyes at the behavior of the other but really he was soooo entrances with you. he lit the bowl up, sucking up the smoke and inhaling, turning his head to blow it at you who blew straight air back at him and swatted his second hand smoke away. 

“so you can blow all your smoke in my car but when I blow back at you, ‘s a problem?” 

“I never said it was, estúpido. I just don’t want you blowing your dank ass smoke en mi cara.” 

the side of your lips pulled into a small smirk as she leaned sideways toward you, smirking up at you as he tilted his head down. 

“you know… I think ‘s sooooo nice hearin you speak spanish. can’t understand a think y’ say though.” 

you stayed silent as you looked down at him with narrowed eyes, a giddy smile tugging at your lips upon hearing his words. 

“mhm… go on…?” 

“cocky now, are we sweetness? i’d say… you just sound sooo much more… magnetic. don’t get me wrong, hearing you speak normal is hypnotic in itself but something about the natural you voice when you speak spanish… it’s so much better.” 

“maybe you should learn if you’re so desperate.” 

“will that win you over? or was book of life too much for you to handle still.” 

“He died for her!” 

“n’ came back to life, pretty thing. I can’t do that. trust me, if I could I would for you, doll.” 

“aw how sweet, hand me the bong.” 

He chuckled a bit as he handed the bong back to you, the bowl nearly empty now. he lit it up, and you repeated the motions from earlier, except you blew it in his face this time. 

“wowwww, how mature of you.” 

“why thank you rin, i try.” 

he takes it back from you yet again, setting down the now empty bong in a cup holder. 

“sooo… what’s the plan?” 

“ion know,, what you tryna do?” 

he jokingly moves the drivers seat back, smirking a bit but behind it was a stupid, giddy smile. as he goes to put his hands behind his head, you hit him in the arm to which he breaks his front and laughs out loud, leaning away from you and holding his hit arm. 

“ouch, that hurt you know. maybe you should be on volleyball instead of me, huh sweets?” 

“i swear there’s something so wrong with you. estas absolutamente loco.” 

“not my fault you’re so pretty.” 

he shrugs, putting the seat back into its original position and his hands on the steering wheel as he stared at the small empty gas station a couple yards from the car. you two were parked at the very end of the small parking lot, music blasting and smoke spilling out of the slightly open windows of the small sleek black car. 

maybe dates with the ever so “stoic” suna rintarou weren’t so bad.

FIRST FIC JITTERSSS AAAAA i gen hope you guys like it this is like my first fic in so long that i’m actually proud of and i hope this gets me more confident and helps me write more :DD

[soemthingsparkly]

I bet Nick’s little sister doesnt get why Nick likes conrad. And tells it to his face. You’re stinky and say bad words all the time. Why does my brother like you so much. And thats how conrad finds out but he just goes “Honestly kid dont know what he sees in me either.” and Nick is all embarrassed overhearing all this but next day to list reasons why he likes him. The fact he obviously still cares so much for his cousin how he refuses to put up with other people shitting on reg.

And how nick sees that even though conrad is in a lot of pain he never takes it out on anyone who doesnt piss him off first. And he sees how that’s why conrad is sorta a loner cause he’s aware he has issues and doesnt wanna accidentally blow up on someone who doesnt deserve that.

So apparently I’m just weak for Conrad and Nick, now?

 (which is, btw, not my fault, but the fault of many anons and Ren. Also Sam. I can’t remember who it was exactly that encouraged this behaviour, but I’m gonna go ahead and blame these two).

I realise now that you probably intended this to be pre-dating, but dating Conrick (Conick? Nickrad?) was just too tempting. 

I done did myself, anon.

--

10 Things I Like About You.

1.1k words.

Nick and Conrad.

Nick stands opposite Conrad in the hall. He looks up from his locker and eyes his boyfriend up and down. “Hey?” He notices the frown lining Nick’s brow. “Why do you look like that?”

Nick is holding a sheet of paper that looks like he tore it from a notepad. He clears his throat and swallows. “I, uh, heard you talking to Bat last night, about... me liking you. Specifically the why part.”

Conrad darts his eyes into his locker and back again. He wonders if he can fit inside. “Okay...”

Nick wets his lips. He wipes a palm on his thigh and then the other. “So I made a list.”

“Oh god,” Conrad groans. “Please don’t.”

“I’m going to read it to you.”

“Wow, or you could not. Let’s pursue that idea. I’m a fan of that idea.”

“Shut up, I want you to know.”

Conrad pinches the bridge and sighs. “Fine, torture me, but you can be the one to bury my corpse later.” He shuts his locker and slumps against it, arms folded across his chest. He rolls his hand. “Go on then, let the torment begin.”

Nick raises an eyebrow at the boy before dipping them to his page. He coughs into his fist and then grips the paper again. “Okay, uh Reasons I like Conrad.”

“I hate this already.”

“One, he’s honest. He never says what he doesn’t mean.”

“I literally told Luke he didn’t look like shit yesterday, this is defamation. I could sue.”

Nick blinks purposely at Conrad, a sign for him to shut the hell up. Conrad mimes locking his lips and throwing away the key.

“Which means I can always trust him to be honest with me. I don’t feel insecure because if there were something wrong, he’d tell me.”

Conrad rolls his eyes.

Nick continues. “Two, he protects the people he cares about.” When Conrad looks skeptical, Nick smirks. “Example: Reggie. He says he doesn’t care about him...” 

Nick pauses and glances up at Conrad, who presses a finger to his lip, suppressing a grin. 

“Yeah okay, I-I know that kind of contradicts the one before, but you get what I mean, so... stop that. Yeah. Alright, um,” he grimaces and returns to his list.

"He says he doesn’t care about him, but I’ve seen him start a fight with a guy who called Reggie ugly.”

“We literally share a face, it wasn’t for him.”

“Dude, I’m reading. And shut up, you’re similar but you’re not that similar.”

Conrad throws up his hands.

“And as much as he says he hates Luke, I know he’d have his back in a heartbeat.”

Conrad’s nose shrivels. 

Nick gives him a crooked smile. “Three,” he says and Conrad puts his hands to his head.

“Oh my god, I’m in hell. How many are there?”

Nick ignores him. “Number three, even though he’s been through so much, and I know he’s still hurting, he has a great sense of humour. And I know if I need cheering up, I always have somewhere to go.”

Conrad’s face is stoic now, the amusement from earlier thinned like mist by a winter sun. His eyes dart away from Nick, to his elbow, where he rubs the material of his jacket between his thumb and forefinger.

Nick knows he know has a captive, but somewhat slightly, audience, now, and he decides to take a run and jump. 

“Four, he likes cats. 

Five, cats are usually a great judge of character and they seem to like him, too. 

Six, I know that he plans his outfits, even if he looks like he just threw on the first thing he found on the floor. 

Seven, he still cares about his mom, after everything. 

Eight, he also cares about the environment and I think that says a lot about someone, because the environment is where we live. 

Nine, his ears are kind of pointy and it makes him look kind of pixie-ish and I think that’s really cute. And he's got a nice smile and his eyes are...” Nick’s cheeks flush and the colour spreads to his neck, while Conrad’s fingers absently brush along the tips of his ears.

Nick takes a breath to steady himself and looks up.

“And ten, he listens to me and I feel important when I’m with him. Like my ideas matter, which... I don’t always feel like... around a lot of people.”

As he folds the paper closed again, he watches Conrad’s face for any hint of reaction. He still refuses to look at him, but Nick thinks his iris’ look a little smudged. Then his mouth twitches and he slides his hands into his back pockets.

"Nick, I, uh–” 

His voice is kind of hoarse and Nick raises his eyebrows, leaning forward on his toes.

Conrad sighs. “I’ll be honest, I stopped listening half way through. Did you say something about elves?”

It takes Nick a full second to react and he shoves Conrad in the shoulder, a grin blowing across his face. Conrad laughs as he steps back and catches himself.

“I’m sorry, did you actually just say you like me because I’m damaged? That’s so fucked up, dude.”

Nick slides the paper into his back pocket. 

“Also, I want it to be on the record that I don’t plan my outfits,” Conrad says, holding his hands out. “I mean, if this is what planning looks like, I’m gonna have to get myself on queer eye. Do you think I plan to look like a homeless person?”

Nick bites his lip and shakes his head. “I’ve seen you do it. You’ve stayed at my house. I have French class.”

But as Nick moves to step past him, Conrad grabs his wrist and stops him. He doesn’t look at Nick, but says in a low voice,

“Of course I listen to you, idiot. You are important.”

Before he can respond, Conrad opens his locker again and hides inside, pretending to search for something. “By the way, I’m hanging with Reggie and the guys later, if you wanted to join. They’re doing dumb band stuff, but Julie will be there and I know you’re friends, so...”

Nick dips his eyes, smiling. “Yeah, okay. Maybe check with them, first, but I think that could be cool. Yeah.”

“Alright,” Conrad says, pulling out his Geography book, and standing. He gives him a curt nod, says, “See you later, then,” and stalks off in the opposite direction to the Geography classrooms. 

Nick watches him go and rubs his finger across the curve of his bottom lip. 

He heads to French class.

--

Bat is Nick’s sister. Short for Barbara. Or Tabitha. We don’t know. 

But it's cute as heck and makes me happy.

[sparkys-ec-corner]

Can you lease enlighten me as to why you ship Amomiche and why you love Amostia so much? Since Amostia is given very little screen time if you will and barely characterized at all it's difficult for me to see why you ship them so much and why you love Amostia so much. Or is it partially because your a hardcore Len x Miku shipper? You can ship whatever you want ofc I just am curious as to what led you to ship it and stuff. Plus I'm more of a Gumi x Gammon shipper (#NemesisxNyozeForLIFE!!!) who barely ships Miku or Len or Rin with anybody and when I do ship them it's more often Miku x Rin (I'm trash for girlxgirl ok) sooo. And yes that goes for in Evillious as well I barely ship any of the Mikus with anybody (minus Michaela x Clarith) and same goes for any of the Lens. So oof

dw!! i understand your points and im aware of how unusual it is for me to love a character like amostia and ship something so unexpected like amomiche (i already apologize since this is long,,, oops,,,)

i would be lying if i said that the fact im a diehard lenmiku shipper didnt affect my decision in bringing amomiche into existence, but it's mostly due to this specific extensive au that serves as amostia's characterization arc and the hcs involving both amostia and michelle.

as for why i love amostia, it's because i thought he was a character with a lot of potential that was shoved to the side as a simple plot device + i was incredibly salty over why amostia is the only irregular who doesnt appear in motheavenly novel at all. since ma was given some characterization that culminated in her "i'm going to destroy the universe to confirm my existence" goal at the end of the novel, i wondered, "what about the Punishment boy? doesnt he get a chance to appear since he's an irregular too? where is he?"

heck, even irregular in scap short story gets a personality, however extremely barebones and single-minded it is, and he's called a boy without an ego since he died right after being born. despite this, he still had the desire of meet his mother.

around 2018, i began writing what would be amostia's backstory because i thought he deserved one. he deserved a personality. he deserved to be cared about. i was ready from the start to be that one weirdo who likes an obscure character no one cares about (i never finished that fic, btw. my hcs changed overtime and my prose back then was kinda ew, so i deleted it)

i never intended to love him as much as i do now. i just wanted to give him a personality and a backstory, but the more i thought about what might had happened to him in lunaca labora and during his time as Punishment the weapon and what would be his personality, the more i wished him to be seen as a person rather than "the weapon nemesis used to blow up the world".

i joined an ec discord server for no other reason but to find other fans, and rather hesitantly shared my hcs of him and fanart in the channels. as i said before, i knew it was weird for me to be attached to a character no one cared about, but i nevertheless persisted on.

before i knew, i was changing everybody's perception of amostia, turning him from a simple plot device into an actual character to the eyes of the fandom.

to be honest, i still do not believe how much everything has changed all thanks to me, only because i cared enough to share what i thought of him. i didnt... expect my hcs to be received so warmly. i made him starkly different from your typical ec len — he's angry, explosive and rude; nothing like the dimwitted and enthusiastically chaotic hansel, much less like the loyal and stoic allen — but maybe the fact he was so different was why people liked him so much. he's like a bright red dot on a canvas of soft colors. im really happy that people liked and accepted my hcs, even after Outlaw & Lychgate was published.

as for amomiche, here's where the extensive au comes in — before Outlaw & Lychgate was published, i had a thought that amostia wandered around the dead world before being found by meta and pretty much adopted by her. this characterization arc of his is meant to be a "coming to age" type of story, exploring his past and making him learn how to be a better person — an actual person with dreams and purpose instead of a weapon merely to be used by others.

initially, i intended michelle to be amostia's friend since they both have a link through nemesis. they would kinda bond through that since michelle wanted to know a bit about nemesis despite amostia himself not knowing much, after amostia finding michelle lost in a snowy night and bringing her back home.

one time, i received a m/a ask in amostia askblog about "len" and "miku" being a couple for some asks. since michelle was the closest "miku" to amostia, i obviously were to bring her in. tbh i was already slightly struggling with keeping them as friends since i found them to be really sweet together and my dumb lenmiku ass bothering tf outta me, and that m/a broke me definitely. i gave in. (although i took a time to answer the m/a itself, admittedly. by the time i answered it, i was already doodling some amomiche stuff)

again, i was ready to be seen as weird, to be the only person in the entire fandom to ship them together. i never hid the fact it is a crackship. i knew i would possibly be cast out as lenmiku trash for it. regardless, i kept doodling them and talking about them simply because i liked them (hell, they stay as friends for a long time in the au before romantic feelings blossom. sue me for liking friends-to-lovers trope with a self-improvement undertone)

and then, my surprise when it was accepted by the fandom despite its status as crackship. gosh, even people who arent into evillious had doodled amomiche!! someone who was into ec actually thought it was canon!! and was saddened to discover that it wasnt because they thought it was really sweet!! and they didnt even ship lenmiku normally!! i swear this still makes me die inside, seriously 😂

so you can say it's a combination of everything that eventually brought amomiche into existence, including my own love for amostia. i dont blame anyone for being confused with it since amostia as a character is so underdeveloped in canon and amomiche is a crackship. it's okay, really. im just vibing here. im not here looking for validation for them nor am i hoping for official crumbs.

all of this is self-indulgent, simply because i want amostia to be more popular, even if slightly. amostia will never become as popular as hansel or allen, im aware, but as long as someone appreciates him as a person, then i think my job is done here. all i want is people to appreciate him. if someone comes to like amomiche too, then it also makes me extremely happy! if someone likes amostia but not amomiche, that's fine too! i don't mind different hcs. if one respects my own, then i respect theirs.

so. yeah. it might not make sense to some people, but that's basically it. i am but a humble artist doodling stuff for a character who she wants to give the happiness and the characterization he didnt get in canon. if someone likes them, then im happy!! 💖

[be-the-spark-flyboy]

Bad At Love

Call It What You Want (3/?)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Med student!Poe x reader

A/N: finallyyyyy Im gonna slowburn the shit outta this (gif not mine btw and I’m terrible at summaries)

Chapter summary: you spend your free weekend the trio. Mondays are the absolute worst.

Warning: swearing, a terrible relationship, one bad pun(that I do not regret)

Word count: ~1.6k

—-

“Yeah but don’t over mix it,” You instruct Finn as he siftes flour into the mixing bowl, mixing it in with the eggs and sugar.

Rey and Poe sit at the dining table, watching the two of you bake. After melting a spatula by accident, Finn had banned Rey from the kitchen for the rest of the day. Poe wasn’t allowed in from the beginning, much to his chagrin, but Finn had insisted, saying that it was the best decision, if he still wanted to have a kitchen by the end of the day.

So it was left with you and Finn. The plan was to make cookies and popcorn and watch holiday movies the whole weekend.

Usually, you would spend your weekends alone, or with Jessika, binge watching netflix shows or working. Jessika calls you boring for that, but if you went out to parties like she did, you’d probably be hiding away from everyone else anyways. So this was a much better option for you.

Rey had insisted that you spend the day with her at Finn’s place. Somehow that had turned into a sleepover and here you are in her pajamas making cookies in the kitchen. You really enjoy spending time with the three of them and you’re really glad Rey cared about you enough to practically drag your antisocial ass into their plans.

“Are you done yet?” Rey whines loudly from her seat.

“We haven’t even put it in the oven!” Finn exclaims, exasperated.

“We could just eat the cookie dough,” Poe chips in much to Reys delight but both Finn and you simultaneously shoot down the suggestion.

“Poe, you’re a med student, you should know better!” Finn adds on as Poe slumps in his seat, pouting. The truth was, you and Finn had already eaten a tiny bit of cookie dough, just to taste test. You know the children will insist on having some too, if they found out you did. “Go pick a movie to put on, at least,”

Rey perks up again, sprinting out of her seat, “Oh we’re watching Home Alone!” Poe sprints after her, yelling, “What no! We’ve watched it a million times already!”

Literal children.

The cookies turn out pretty good in the end. Finn makes Rey and Poe set up the rest of the things, just to keep them away from the kitchen.

Before you know it, you are watching Home Alone, snuggled up in a comfortable blanket with Rey. A huge warm bowl of carmel, butter popcorn sits on your lap. Peaceful and comfortable. Until Rey swipes the whole bowl from you, “I love you, but leave some for the rest of us,”

You try to snatch It back, almost practically wailing, “I made cookies for you, you evil woman,” you hear snickering from the other couch and whip your head around, screeching, “Don’t laugh at me!”

Poe completely loses it and Finn casually pushes him off when he falls in top of him laughing, while you continue glaring at them. Rey makes use of the distraction and shoves a handful of popcorn in her mouth. “We made those cookies, give me some credit too!” Finn exclaims, offended by your statement.

“Okay fine, our cookies,” you concede.

“Hey I helped too!” Rey exclaimes.

“Oh yes, the secret ingredient. One melted spatula,” you snark her.

“Oh burn! Pun intended,” Poe chimes in.

Unsurprisingly, this is how the entire evening goes. The four of you spend it bickering playfully instead of watching the movie, but you weren’t complaining.

—-

Poe Dameron hated being alone, more than anything. Once, he was a kid, who had parents who loved him and a place he called home. Then suddenly he was moving to live with his godmother in an entirely different state, in a big house that just never felt like home. But at least he had Finn and Rey.

Then he’d gone to college and Finn and Rey had gotten together. They weren’t big on PDA or anything. They never did anything to make Poe feel uncomfortable or left out. But Poe couldn’t help but feel like an intruder sometimes. Somedays he’d catch them in the couch together, cuddling, watching a movie at night. And he’d just slink along the dark and shut himself in his room without uttering a single word to them. Intruder.

In a way, he had always been jealous of them. It had always been Finn and Rey, even before he became part of their duo. He just wanted to have a bond like theirs with someone. Someone who would be willing to put him before anybody else. He wanted to be the first person someone would run to if they have a problem or the first person someone would call when they have a piece of happy news to share. He wanted to be someone’s first choice, to belong with someone.

But somehow, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t even come close to finding something like that. He’d had his fair share of bad relationships, in his rush to find that someone. He had so much to give, no one to give to.

“Hello?” Carefully manicured fingers snap infront of his face. Poe startles slightly. Great, he zoned out again. “You’re not even listening to me,” Sarah leans back into her chair, displeasure etched on her face.

“No no, I’m listening. Just tired,” he takes a swig of his coffee.

Whatever he has with Sarah, he knew it wouldn’t last. They don’t work together and he was aware of it. But at this point, having something felt better than nothing. He knew she didn’t love him. If she did, Poe would’ve given anything to make it work.

Yes, he was aware of how desperate he sounded.

“Yeah, whatever,” she dismisses him with a wave. “You wanna go back to my place for the night?” A sultry smile spreads in her face, fingers lacing with his, on top of the table. Sarah was a good girlfriend sometimes. She’d buy him coffee, ask him how his day was, be nice to him. But that was only if she wanted something in return.

Poe sighs heavily, “I can’t tonight. Sorry babe,” babe. It sounds so fake to his own ears. There was once when the endearment felt sweet on his tongue, and he wanted to say it, every chance he got. Now, it feels like a lie. Like he’s fooling himself.

Warm fingers withdraw from his, and the smile slips right off her face. “Alright then,” her words are clipped, nothing like the tone used on a lover. Sarah collects her belongings from the table, her cup of coffee lays half-empty beside his. “Have fun, studying,” She snaps, rising from her seat abruptly, and marching out of the coffee shop. Poe doesn’t try to stop her.

He hasn’t been over to her place in weeks. He wasn’t actually busy tonight, he just didn’t want to go. He hadn’t wanted to for some time. Maybe he was finally sick of his own girlfriend treating him like, as Finn liked to call it, a booty call. Blowing up his phone when she felt like it, then leaving him high and dry for as long as she wanted after that. Finn just doesn’t understand why Poe would let himself be treated like that. To be honest, Poe doesn’t as well.

—-

Mondays suck. You particularly hate this monday, after the sleepover you had at Finn’s over the weekend. The four of you had passed out on the couch that night, crashing from sugar high after eating way too many cookies and popcorn for just four people. Although Finn still insists it was just the right. You had so much fun nonetheless.

Your professor’s droning had already put half the people in the lecture hall to sleep. You try your best to stay awake, although you know you are fighting a losing battle. The guy beside you had long since given up, it seems. His head is resting on the table and he is fast asleep.

You had managed to spend an entire semester not uttering a single word to the guy who had been sitting next to you for literally every single lecture. That was how bad you were at making friends. Maybe you had smiled at the tall, dark haired dude, once, at the beginning of the semester, but that was it.

Maybe part of the reason he chose to sit beside you was because he was just as quite as you. He mostly kept to himself. Occasionally you’d see him talk to one or two people here and there, but that was it. You weren’t complaining, really. You were perfectly content with finishing the whole semester without uttering a single word to him. But it seemed your professor had a different plan.

Your professor slams his palm on the front desk to get everyone’s attention. A few figures jump at the sudden noise and a few others groan, but everyone was awake.

“I know the topic is a little dry but come on, guys,” he says. “I’m making an announcement about the final assessment, at least pay attention to that,” Your professor was pretty cool. He was willing to go above and beyond for anyone who asked for help although the lectures literally bored everyone to hell. You fish out your notebook from your bag, ready to jot down whatever he was going to say. “The final assessment, will be done in pairs,” In pairs? Why had god abandoned you? Who were you going to ask? You didn’t know anyone in the class. You take it back, your professor was not cool.

Thankfully before you could start going partner hunting, the guy beside you turns to face you and he asks, “Hey, would you mind pairing up with me for this assignment?” You don’t hesitate before agreeing, relieved by the turn of events.

He flashes you a smile, “I’m Ben Solo,”

—-

The Dameron taglist (open): @writefightandflightclub @arkofblake @yougottakeeponkeepinon @multifandomlife22 @skymerons @smol-peter-parker @rae-rae-patcha @demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol @spider-starry @hkmultifandom @cloud-leader @elmoakepoke @staringmoony @valhallavalkyrie9 @the-cry-of-youth

[altarflame]

Let me give you this real country music breakdown.

Keeping in mind that 2019 involved lots of gut wrenching transition, including divorce and selling my home of 11 years (the longest I’ve ever lived anywhere). Moving away from the tropics, to a place where the ocean is usually too far and my plants can’t live outside through the winter. I had a kid move out and away, for the first time.   My oldest friend also died last August, after a scant 3 month long battle with cancer. It was a real plague upon my proverbial dog, wife, and pickup truck. And, of course, I’m living through a pandemic, and a long overdue but very emotional racial justice uprising, with the rest of you, now. Anyway. OTHER than those things, my 2020 has been like...My sister’s gradually, gut wrenchingly cut off all contact with me over the past couple of years, culminating in the last couple of months, whenst we no longer speaketh at all. I’ve fought hard for this to be different and it’s still very sharp. I don’t think I’ll ever give up hope, or stop making a fool of myself about it. A new friend I was starting to really care about hung herself in April. I’ve tried to be there for her husband and 5 year old daughter when and how I can, which is honestly not much. I’ve taken several people who were scared to go alone, to her grave.  I felt forced to break up with the person I thought was my soul mate, these past 3 years, and wanted to be with forever, and I have grieved it hard over the last couple of months. I’m still processing this. I’m gonna be processing this for awhile. My threshold for being anywhere near him without overwhelming sobbing is apparently approximately 45 seconds. In the beginning we were scrambled together, mixed in a celestial bowl and hand fluffed with a feather. And the tears of bliss were not amiss - it was a good day.  But the story nears the present time Of restlessness and wake up calls Wake up! Years have flown fast but then who's counting The wars have been won but there's few left standing between us And the shadows of Christmas past... Critically acclaimed but sadly underrated - Fortune definitely favored us, but no one celebrated. Our wits were splitting at their ends... We gazed upon the city lights We each laughed aloud one final time and agreed: This is one thing we'll miss... On his way out, he sabotaged my part time foster child’s mom’s tenuous, fragile relationship with me, so I no longer have the ability to connect with or help that child who he brought into my life. Who I love and wonder about and periodically hear horror stories about via mutual friends. I bent over backwards, I burned calories straining for that trust between the mom and myself.  

It’s so terrible sometimes. It hurts so bad. Jean-Paul. LAURA.   *MILLS*  . Coralye. FUCK. This post brought to you with plenty of hard crying, and no shortage of echoing painful music. I’m physically sick about this shit semi often.  I don’t normally let go of anybody, guys. But certainly not my fucking nearest and dearest.  I have a lot. I have SO MUCH. I know this. I feel good a lot of the time.  I have all 5 of my kids under this roof while the pandemic rages on, and they’re all healthy and beautiful and they all love me and talk with me. It’s mostly all cake these days with them, Elise telling me where she is in her own solitary reading for pleasure, Ananda cracking me up, Jake biking to the grocery store for treats to share, Aaron showing me something amazing in the yard, Isaac washing dishes and giving me weirdly helpful and totally unanticipated advice. They’re almost no work now, it’s all return on investment and I have tons of privacy and I use the fuck out of it.  I’m deeply in love with somebody these past 7 months. Being deeply in new love AND devastated-heartbroken about lost love at the same time is honestly dizzying, I spent a first destitute day thinking maybe I can’t do polyamory anymore, period. Maybe this is too fucking much and I’m gonna be alone and focus on my career and my goddamned plants. (<--not fucking really, obv I am not gonna let the pain win and go full hermit. Brief compelling temptation, though.) My career and my plants are great, btw, thanks for asking. I’ve got basically my dream job, it’s flexible and lackadaisical AND meaningful and challenging, it’s salaried with bonuses and hella benefits and amazing job security. It’s the whole thing, the culmination of 6 years in school and unpaid internships and volunteering. I even have a spare PRN position elsewhere that I mostly hang on to because it’s fun when they want me to come make $200 for a shift, to mix it up a little.  And I have solo projects, writing and web and mental health, all in the works, and they’re good.  I have seedlings sprouting. I have a yard that is pure magic, revealing new secrets each day.  I’ve got some of my oldest people, like Jess. I’ve got some exciting new people, like Jill.  The love, did I mention it? Holy shit. I’ve got Sterling, and that is a whole other story. That it’s been this good while things are this bad is pretty astounding. His own drama quotient has been off the charts, too. I almost can’t imagine how wonderful it would be if we weren’t constantly adrift in a sea of bullshit, though I also strongly suspect we both need a certain staggering minimum quota of bullshit. It’s no accident that we met mutually chasing along after the wake of the same madman’s chaos. We’re nursing some deep wounds in each other, waking up some old old hurts and soothing them back down smaller and smaller. Anytime we’re touching it’s either syrupy soma sweet, blazing inferno hot, or a staggering blend of the two - and then we pull apart to try to actually speak with whole brains, and inevitably take turns being baffled, just hilariously relieved, at how easy it is to communicate. We alternate coming at each other on tiptoe, braced, and then feeling confused and just.... amused? Skeptical? that the other is totally able to empathize with what was just said and is accepting it gently.  We don’t have a ton of objective stuff in common, on paper. We’re both very wordy and linguistic, we’re analyzers, we draw unusual people who will feel safe telling us insane things. We’re both hypersexual perverts, chronic pickers, we both wear too much black. It doesn’t go a lot further than that at a glance. We both have PTSD and ironclad outward facing coping skills, nostalgia for the Florida Keys, scientific skepticism mixed with some faith in magic.... we were both brilliant children who felt pretty isolated. But I haven’t ever really felt like anyone is loving me the way I love people, before. I’ve never even felt like anyone else received my love, the same way I intended it, or at least not all of it. It’s like the intensity of what I’m conveying and meaning when I kiss somebody’s cheek, I dunno man, he experiences it. The goofy flowing sense I have, of holding hands, he comments on it all the time. I’m not just like.... alone, in my overwhelm with being touched, or my enthusiasm for sensations, and that is honestly pretty new to me. Sterling is not tolerating my affection for my sake, and I’m still gradually adapting to that with periodic backsliding into hesitance, and unneeded apologies. It’s like we’re totally fluent in the precise same love language, so nothing gets lost, and the feedback loop is instantaneous.  He’s dark inside, but dark like Nine Inch Nail’s A Warm Place. Dark like the womb.  So as I was saying. I have so much. Including a candle that’s about Mills, and is burning behind me, giving me this slipping sense that I need to blow it out, I need to reserve it, it’s gonna be gone soon. This one spans so many feelings, it’s been positive, some new candle would be what, voodoo? Meddling? I don’t know. This one’s been in a drawer, with our ring buried in it (my dragon). What will I do with that ring? What will I do with all this love?  How can I contain so much, anyway? Why can’t anything ever replace anything else? It’s like infinite space, and the empty places just keep throbbing, and it’s like I sprout new spots for new fullness and the cavities pulse on.  I’m deeply grateful for a certain self-completeness I’ve come to understand that I have, and that not everyone does. I am resiliant A-motherfucking-F (<--meta vulgar!). AND YET. OW OW OW.  I’m sitting here trying to exposure therapy my way through my Mills playlist, as I write this, so Spotify can’t surprise me into sads anymore. I’ve gotten already to a place where sometimes i remember positive things purely positively, and laugh and tell a story and it’s ok. I’m bitter as all hell that I can’t even talk to my sister about this breakup, after she had so many stupid goddamned feelings about the relationship itself, about polyamory in general, about ever knowing him (which might have allowed her to help me grieve at all).  Sigh. I love the internet, maybe feel free to send me a message if you’re still reading, whoever the fuck you are <3

[not-your-everyday-smol]

The Witch and the Borrowers

Chapter 4 ~

All three took a moment to collect themselves. Cynthia was glad they’d gotten that off their chests. Telling someone almost made it easier to deal with, as if it were a shared burden now. Her chest felt lighter than it had in a while. “Now that you know our story, what about yours? You don’t have to; I’m only curious.” Lily shrugged,“It’s not all that exciting, in my opinion. I was born into a family of witches and they taught me all that was passed down to them from our ancestors. When I’d fully understood the ways of this life, it was time for me to move on and carve my own path. Some witches move into the city where there’s more people and they can do more good for others. Others prefer more isolated lives, like me. I’m all about spreading my goddess’ light, but I’d rather stay closely connected to Mother Nature. I mean, look at how gorgeous she is!”

Immediately the room lit up at her words. An orange glow settled upon their faces as the flowers, themselves, lit up. Pollen whirled around the room like snow in a gentle breeze. Leaves grew bigger on the vines that climbed the walls. Fireflies danced in from the open windows and lunar moths followed suit, beating their green, translucent wings and gliding through the air. Logan doubted many humans had the privilege of witnessing such a display. The air smelled deliciously fresh, like a field in springtime, blanketed with flowers in bloom.

Cynthia’s eye was pulled away from the beautifully lit space above her to the beautiful person nearby her. Lily had never looked so stunning before. Her hair gently floated over her shoulders and the light glinted in her eyes. A faint blue light emanated from her chest as she held her hand out to the bugs fluttering in the air, a smile on her face. The girl knew she was falling for this witch, and there was nothing she could do about.

Logan glanced over at his sister, noticing she wasn’t looking up with him. ‘Of course,’ he thought,’ because what else would she be looking at.’ He knew what she felt, this goddess Lily talked about probably knew it, hell, Cynthia probably knew it herself, but he doubted she’d vocalize them anytime soon. It went against everything they grew up knowing. Though, to be fair, what they were doing right now went against every single rule they’d ever lived by. He definitely planned on asking her about it, and wouldn’t take no for an answer. With that in mind, he gave her a nudge with his shoulder.

Jerking her head back, she looked as though she were a mouse caught stealing, eyes wide and body stiff. “What?” She asked, almost accusingly. Logan only smiled and looked up at Lily, before looking back at her. “Whu- I can’t believe.. Excuse? I wouldn’t even-,” not knowing how to explain herself, she settled on a flat look,“Shove it up your ass.” He snorted at that, getting Lily’s attention. The human looked down at the two, finding an adorably red-faced Cynthia and an extremely amused Logan. She decided she wanted to focus on them more, dismissing the magic with a deep breath in, then out.

Giggling, she asked, “Are you okay Cynthia?” The girl looked down with crossed arms, “Um, no. Nothing. It’s nothing.” Logan couldn’t hold it in any longer. He burst out laughing, gasping for air, arms wrapped around his waist. “If it’s something to earn that reaction from your brother, I’m sure it's not nothing. Don’t worry, you can tell me! I won't laugh, I promise.” The poor thing wouldn’t even look up, looking terribly embarrassed. Logan took in a deep breath and wiped away the tears from laughter, hooking an arm around her neck, on her shoulder. “Awwwww come on little sister! Spit it out, you know you want to.” She elbowed him in the ribs, “Dude, shut up!”

A moment of silence echoed as Logan recovered from the blow. Before she could stop him, he spit out, “Cynthia likes you! As in, like like.” Sporting a shit-eating grin, he looked back at her, not expecting to be tackled. “I can’t believe you just said that! Oh my god you are so annoying!” The two wrestled on the table before Lily cleared her throat. Cynthia, pinning Logan to the ground, looked up. “He was, uh, lying to make things weird! That’s all I swear! Heh, very funny Logan.”

“Oh. Well that’s a shame because I would’ve said that I like you too.” Cynthia’s mouth hung open. She would’ve expected Lily to have blushed and worn a shy expression, not come right out with a confident statement. Even Logan was awestruck. Smiling, she laughed, “Hey, I’m not gonna hide how I feel and cause more awkward tension that would eventually be outed later on. I’ve seen soap operas and I definitely don’t need my life to be one.”

“Well. Um. In that case. I was kidding about what Logan said? Yeah. And, uh. Yeah.” Logan knew it was his time to leave. Pushing his sister off and putting the gift from Lily in his bag, he said, “It’s definitely time for me to go. Thank you for the present and Cynthia, I’ll see you at home.” With a bow he turned around and walked towards the edge of the table, intending to use his fishhook and line to get down. Instead, he heard movement before a hand appeared in front of him. “Oh, I don’t need help, but thank you.” Lily gently shook her head, “Please, I want to.” With a nod of his head, he got on and sat down.

Glad he accepted her offer, she told Cynthia, “I’ll be right back,” before walking Logan back to the opening in the wall they used. Logan stood up and stepped off, gesturing for Lily to stay a moment. “I really enjoyed tonight. I’m really happy I decided to go. It was…. well, magical.” Lily had gotten on her knees a short distance away and grinned at his words. “You know, I couldn’t help but notice your matching bows, ” She pointed to her neck. He blushed, “Yeah, it was Cynthia’s idea. Who would’ve guessed!…. You know, we’ve only been scared of you because of how we were raised and who we encountered. I promise it wasn’t anything personal. Knowing you now, I’m ashamed to admit that I was scared only until tonight.” Glancing away briefly, she responded, “Logan, I’ve read your hearts since day one. I can't exactly read minds, but I knew what you felt and I knew you had reasons for doing so. It’s neither of our faults, so don’t be too hard on yourself. You’re here now, aren’t you?”

She was honestly so nice that the boy could cry. How on earth had they been able to find the nicest human of them all? “I know it’s kinda weird, but could I, uh…” He looked down and shuffled his feet. Lily knew exactly what he was asking for, and she was more than happy to give. She held out her hand with a gentle smile, and he sheepishly stepped on. As carefully as she could manage she brought him up to her cheek. It was so surreal to feel his tiny hands and arms, spread out wide in the closest thing they had to a hug. “I’ll keep you both safe, I promise.” A few moments later and he was lowered to the ground. “I really hope I see you again soon,” he said before leaving.

Lily rose to a stand and walked back to the dining table, taking a seat. “Sorry, I talked with Logan for a bit.” Cynthia waved her hand dismissively, “No, don’t be. You two get along really well and that makes me happy. He needs a friend.” “So do you.” She blushed, looked down, and said, “I’m not used to this kind of thing, but I really do like you. I don’t know how that’s supposed to work with me being so small and I know I’m not enough, but-,” her sentence abruptly stopped when Lily brought a finger under her chin, making the ever-so-minute motion of lifting the small head. “Cynthia, you may be small, but don’t ever think that you aren’t enough. Your size doesn’t define how much of a person you are, or if you are less than another. You can’t see through my eyes, but I wish you could. Your soul is so big and full of life. You and your brother have two of the brightest I’ve ever seen, and that’s saying something.”

Cynthia held her finger and moved her head so that her forehead rested against it. Small tears fell from her eyes. “You- you really mean that?” She said, looking back up. “I would never lie to you.”

~ Juuust btw it's almost 2am so any mistakes I blame on insomnia lol

[crystallinerays]

Give me everything about Desh. EVERYTHING. ALL OF THE NUMBERS. And then give me a character to do as well.

Well, i just came home from target with microwave pizza and a bottle of wine and I can’t think of better circumstances to talk about my favorite dumpster baby so here we go!

1. What is one thing others might find intolerable about them?

Other than their ridiculous upbeat attitude and kleptomaniac tendencies?

Maybe the fact that they leave their stuff everywhere. Come home from a mission and there’s armor strewn about the living room and kitchen and the stairs. A left on the bathroom sink, quiver of holding dangling off a door knob. One boot is in the front hallway and another is just chilling kicked off in her doorway. There are personal notes everywhere in a stupid variety of languages just left on any surface.

Like at first moving in with Desh seems find. They seem all neat and organized, but that’s because they didn’t own anything yet. Now, they’re really messy to live with, okay. There’s a method in the madness hidden deep in it, but like way deep.

(Desh’s room is fucking meticulous btw, it’s just all the shared spaces that they keep leaving their shit in. They want to make it super obvious that they live there, this is their house, and they’re comfortably not going anywhere.)

2. Do they have any annoying quirks? If so, what are they?

Does fidgeting count? Desh cannot stay still to save their life. Drumming fingers, tapping feet, taking off jewelry and fiddling with it (Desh wears a shit ton of rings like i do for just this purpose), spinning arrows, fucking around with knives, pacing.

Please imagine a Silver Council meeting where everyone is sitting down around a table and Desh is stalking  the perimeter of the room very seriously twirling a knife. It’s unnerving as fuck, but considering the current high stress situation it’s the only thing that really helps them pay attention.

that’s a quirk, right?

3. Name one or more of their bad habits.

Knives

Okay, I think we all know this kid is like the living personification of bad ideas being the only ideas. But honestly? Being an impulsive mother fuck.

4. Any addictions? (Food, sex, drugs/alcohol, shopping, power/control, etc.)

Sorta??? They’re a former drug addict. (And not just because some ghosts gave Desh and Thul opium addictions waaaaaay back when.)

I like to think when Desh and their brother were sold into slavery getting them hooked on opium or something was a good way of keeping them compliant and less likely to try and run away. They were cured of this once they were liberated (remove disease), but Desh did relapse for a while after witnessing Pezzack burn. They were a scared fucking nineteen year old kid fell in with the wrong crowd, okay? They left that behind and have been clean for a few years but like that was a thing that happened.

(all those nat 20s i rolled to cure their phantom addiction? maybe her Cayden taking mercy on her and being like “you’ve been through this enough, kid”)

5. What is one thing they do that can negatively affect their relationship with friends?

Well, they are rash and impulsive  and emotional and honestly doesn’t give a shit about hurting people’s feeling if what they think what they’re doing is Right, BUT I’m gonna say a bad habit of withholding information on this one.

Desh doesn’t like lying and believes in honesty above all things (and she’s the group’s spymaster. it’s impractical and a bit hypocritical yes I know), but she’s 100% behind not telling the full truth and withholding information to those she doesn’t think need to know it.

Like she’s not going to forwardly talk about her history and her wants and needs or why exactly Yewon bothers her (they don’t actually hate him it’s just... complicated? we haven’t quite unpacked that box yet, but it mostly has to do with his skill at lying and ability to easily manipulate and control people). But these are things they need everyone to know and might cause problems later on because they’ll interpret it as no one caring about them beyond their usefulness which is Bad™

6. Their romantic relationships?

I thought this was supposed to be about character flaws? This isn’t a flaw. Desh honestly considers meeting Ellia to be the single best thing that has happened to them since arriving in this hell hole of a fucking city. (Do not say this too loud around Reprisal or the bow I’m still trying to come up with a cool name for or the HOLY TANKARK OF INFINITE ALCOHOL.)

Fuck man, there’s someone who actually cares about them and like set them down to help them write an actual legal will. That’s probably the only legal document that Desh has relating to themself that wasn’t forged tbh. Like fuck I’m kinda tearing up just thinking about how much that would mean to them. How much Ellia means to them.

Desh fully intended to burn the whole city down if they had to back when dealing with Jill’s fucked up family and Ellia went missing. Like they would have done literally anything to ensure her safety or to exact vengeance and I just

And the stupid fucking pirate joke was so silly and pure like that honestly caught us both off guard.

But like she’s the only one who has asked Desh more than one personal question about themself and I am almost 100% certain that Desh would be completely and honestly open about her past and her family and her insecurities and everything with her. Like Desh communication is super fucking important in any relationship, but even more so to Desh and the fact that there is someone who cares. There’s no walls, no matter how stupid that might be.

Desh loves her. Like honestly loves her.

7. What is the biggest mistake they’ve ever made?

Going to Kintargo in the first place

Taking point on what they were fully aware of being an ambush and getting themself surrounded and then killed.

8. What mistake(s) do they continue to make/have not learned from?

It would be easier to list mistakes they have learned from tbh. Here’s one: don’t shoot at the faces of your teammates no matter how dope it might look.

9. Name some of their major physical shortcomings.

They can’t whistle or snap their fingers.

That’s the story and I’m sticking to it.

10. Some of their emotional shortcomings?

[takes a looooooooong drink]

boy howdy

They’re 24 years old and have heavy abandonment issues, lack a self worth outside of a price sticker slapped on them at an auction block (”463 gold for the pair”), depression, anxiety, ptsd. They never learned how to properly cope with most things. They’re fucking scared and constantly overwhelmed and nothing makes sense anymore. They never really got to be a kid and they’re kind of a total mess as an adult because of it.

11. What are their intellectual shortcomings?

That’s a bit harder to nail down??? Because something they’ve devoted their life and freedom to has been collecting knowledge. They’re fluent in 14 languages and know a lot of stuff about various entities they they might encounter in a fight. And they can probably tell you every myth and folklore from Rahadoum and Chelliax about dragons.

But honestly? People skills. They can sometimes be a bit of an awkward duck around people they’re not familiar with or in situations where they’re caught off guard.

12. At least one thing that they tend to overreact to.

SPIDERS

DESH DOES NOT LIKE SPIDERS

13. In what ways might they be overly negative and/or pessimistic?

One of the first things that y’all still ride me for is checking a cooking pot in Luculla’s house for the remains of children.

They were adamant about Thrune using his gifts to track the group’s movements.

As funny as Desh can be, her serious moments are very real and present and fucked up.

14. Is there anything they are too optimistic about?

[laughs for a solid fifteen minutes] Not anymore!

Their relationship probably. The whole rebellion not blowing up in smoke. Ending slavery in the region once it’s been liberated with no significant blow back. Being able to settle down and become a well adjusted person some day.

15. How might they be ignorant or prejudiced?

They have a problem with the word “evil”. Like everyone who is Evil is Bad. But like Ellia is Lawful Evil (last time I checked) and she’s not bad. She’s a good girlfriend and it was really complicated for a while but I think she’s kinda learning that sometimes people are just the alignment of their country by default and not Bad.

Or maybe it’s just Ellia. Probably just Ellia. She’s a beautiful outlier who should not have been counted.

16. Do they have any behaviors and/or beliefs that cannot be adequately justified?

I try and justify everything they do... I would have said their fear of spiders but... well... you kind of had a spider creature bite her face off so...

17. When would they be too judgmental of someone or something?

That time they fucking destroyed the imp.

When their first thought upon finding out that both Ellia and Luculla were missing was “Luculla’s behind this and I’m going to fucking skin her alive. She didn’t deserve me saving her life.”

18. Are they ever a pushover about something? If so, how?

She can go with the group’s mindset about most things like she doesn’t entirely give a fuck what they’re going to do as long as they can set up a decent groundwork for a plan first and no one innocent is being harmed outright.

19. Is there anything they refuse to budge on? What are they stubborn about?

Their stance on lying, control/manipulation, and slavery. That stance will never change. Ever.

But in general, once they’ve made up their mind about something they’re going to be stubborn af about it.

20. What is a self-inflicted misery of theirs? (i.e. something they perpetuate themselves)

Ooooooooooooh boy

Just read through this again. I’ve probably mentioned several.

[bittyblueeyes]

Lexark Plot Bunny!

The bunnies won’t leave me be! I’m not going to write this fic, but I must share my ideas. Anyone is welcome to use any/all elements here for their own writing. (Super long detailed plot bunny. Sorry not sorry)

So Elyza and Alicia aren’t the first to meet in this story. It starts when Strand brings the group back to his house and Elyza is there waiting for him. Without saying hi, she jumps right into scolding him for being two and a half days late. She’s been there on her own, stocking the boat. Strand asks if she was worried about him and her reply is “Fuck off.”

Elyza’s a bit concerned by the large number of friends (”you don’t have friends”) Strand invited, but she’s her friendly self and starts gathering more supplies and flirts a bit with Alicia. Everyone’s as wary of Elyza as they are of Strand, but it doesn’t bother her.

After they settle on the boat, Elyza goes to finally have a proper chat with Strand. He asks her opinion of the passengers and she gives brief character assessments. They want to know who might be a threat. Who would keep to themselves, who would argue about their course of action, who might fight. Alicia actually overhears a lot of it, including Elyza’s assessment of her. Alicia’s rather quiet at the moment, but Elyza is sure she’s going to blow soon. She’s being kept in the dark and told to just keep her head down. With all the building stress, it’s only a matter of time. Strand doesn’t want drama, but it’s inevitable. Alicia is caught and invited in. Both Elyza and Strand are completely unapologetic about the conversation they had. Alicia’s sort of upset for being judged, but Elyza’s kind and understanding of Alicia’s situation so she’s still unsure cocky blonde.

Things go bad between them when there’s the argument about whether to save the people stranded at sea. Strand, Madison, and Alicia are arguing heatedly on deck when Elyza appears. Alicia instantly looks relieved, thinking Elyza will take her side. But she doesn’t. She finishes the whole argument with a short, “we can’t save them.’ She then nods at Strand and tells him to push on. Alicia hates Elyza after that. (love comes later)

Okay okay, too much detail on the beginning of the story. How about some of Elyza’s backstory. Like how does she know Strand?

Elyza Lex moved to the US with her parents when she was about 10. I’m not sure of her dad’s job, but her mom was pharmaceutical scientist. or maybe geneticist? They lived in a mountainous region of Wyoming and she did a lot of outdoorsy stuff, especially hiking and hunting with her dad. When Elyza was 16 years old, her mom started having problems at work, just coming home frustrated and stressed. As time wore on, she finally opened up to her husband and daughter. The company she worked for had been taken over by the government. That wasn’t what really concerned her, not at first. It was the stuff she was working on. She was supposed to create and tweak drugs, but she wasn’t told everything, data denied her and her own work taken. She began investigating because what they were asking didn’t make sense. She was horrified to find that her highly experimental treatments were being tested on humans. It took months, but she gathered information and finally something she could expose that would put a stop to the testing. But she never came home.

Elyza was 16 when her mother was killed. They’d been told that her mother contracted something and needed to be quarantined and monitored. Two weeks later, her mother’s body was handed over. Elyza and her father didn’t buy their story for a second and Elyza’s dad dedicated himself to discovering and exposing the secrets his wife was killed for. A year later, 6 days after Elyza turned 18, she walked into the house to see her father in a kitchen chair with a bullet hole in his head. Suicide, they claimed. Elyza knew it wasn’t, but she didn’t know how to convince them. The fact that the gun was in his right hand when he was a lefty (like Elyza) didn’t do much convincing.

So Elyza took up where her father left off, dropping out of school to do it. She knew she needed help getting access to information and she needed to know just who was behind it. Finding Strand was a long shot, and anything good coming from it was even less likely, but a few years prior, Strand had swindled her father. She thought she might get support or a favor if she played it right. She found him in a bar. They flirted relentlessly. (ridiculous because they’re both gay af) Strand thought the young woman naïve and couldn’t resist trying to con her. He hadn’t suspected she’d con him. She stole $20k from him and waited for a few days in her hotel room for him to come to her.

Elyza hadn’t intended to tell him about what she was looking into, but she did. She could use Strand’s money to bribe certain people, but introductions with a rich, powerful businessman would likely help her more. After hearing and seeing evidence, Strand starts helping her.

This story is revealed little by little throughout, btw

Elyza got so far in the knowledge she’d gathered, but it was never enough and she felt stuck. She pushed her luck just a little too far and she and her friend were taken to the facility and locked up. They became the experiments. She wasn’t used in The Experiment, but she watched as people turned violent and went insane, screams surrounding her. It just got worse. The people were dying regularly; she knew that. But then the dead weren’t staying dead. Attacks were getting worse, more gruesome and disturbing. After 7 months inside, fighting madness and pain and illness, one of the scientists confessed she was holding off on The Experiment with Elyza until she was ready to try something new. They still had her mom’s work and they used some of her research and ideas. “Let’s see if your mom can save you.”

It was a vaccine. She received 2 doses in 2 days and then she was infected. Straight from the source, they brought in one of the infected. The dead man, hardly more than a head and therefore easily controlled, sunk its teeth into Eliza’s thigh. He was then taken away and they waited. Elyza was strapped to the bed for days, fevered and unconscious more often than not. She pulled through. But three weeks later, they tested with the bite of another infected. In the time of her recovery and the tests that followed, she thought up her escape plan.

She hadn’t known until she made it out that she wasn’t the only one who had escaped. The town had been evacuated and was heavily guarded by military. Some of the infected had escaped and the government was trying to lock everything down and hunt the undead. She needed to be careful to avoid them. It took her a few days to get to the hunting cabin where she hid her emergency gear. She really wasn’t sure what to do after that. They whole state was quarantined at that point.

She called Strand. She told him that they needed to leave. She’d explain everything as long as he took her with him. She tells him everything except about the vaccine, about her bites and her immunity. She has research and detailed data buried in the bottom of her bag, but she doesn’t share that either. What would it matter?

Okay! There’s Elyza’s backstory and the story starter. There’s more in my head, but I know I won’t write it properly.

If you want to write this, please do! And tell me so I can read it! If there’s anything here that inspires you, please use it! You don’t have to write this story. Take which ideas work for you and run with them. ^_^

[notesfromthepen]

The Chronicles of the king of Richmond

I came across some shit today that I had to share. Something too funny, dark, and ridiculous to keep to myself. But I had to figure out a way to first, get my hands on the material, and then how to give the context needed for it to be fully appreciated.

First I should start with the characters involved. We are a trio. Me, Joe, and the 'king'. I'll refer to him as the 'king' (with a lowercase 'k') because he wanted to remain anonymous, for several reasons, that should become clear later. 

Joe is, by far, my best friend in here and we've been pretty much inseparable for years now, (we were bunkies twice at another facility). Some of you may have read previous posts about him. We are very different people, which is often the case with really good friends. But there is no doubt that our bond is, almost entirely, built on our shared sense of humor. A sarcastic, brutally honest, self deprecating, anything for a laugh, sense of humor. 

A sense of humor developed since childhood surrounded by witty, smart-assed, assholish mentors and peers. It can be a harsh environment to grow up in, but there is a purity to be found there. An accountability and brutal honesty that is humbling and real. There are no aires allowed to survive amongst friends with no fear of giving offense. No bullshit is left uncalled, no lies left un-confronted, and no opinions restrained. Nothing is sacred and everything is mined for a laugh. 

Basically we talk a lot of shit.

Nothing bonds me to another person more instantly than a similar sense of humor. Since coming to this new prison Joe and I have found a fellow, flawed, degenerate asshole, willing to laugh at himself and judge others for the sake humor. 

This, is the so called 'king of Richmond.' His majesty is a large guy, about 6'1 and 240 lbs. of slightly chubby, bearded, man beef. He's well kept and neat in appearance (aside from his portly build). He's got some charisma and charm at his disposal and makes decent use of it when needed.

The king, however, has a glaring flaw, as do most of us. He's a raging addict, whose life is lived for, and run by, an incessant need for opiates. This adds an interesting but constantly problematic dimension to his life behind bars. The perpetual need to produce the money for his lifestyle is a constant story line. Most of his fundraising is done over the phone. Preferably through manipulation, but he's not above blatant begging from people in the free-world. Family members, friends, exes, and a sugar momma round out his fundraising Rolodex. 

A few days ago, Joe borrowed his Majesty's tablet to listen to his music, and being the stand up friends we are, we wasted no time before invading his privacy. We opened his 'sent email' files and struck gold. Dark, hilarious, sad, revealing gold. What we found was email after email of mental and emotional manipulation in a quest to fund his lifestyle. That's the sad part. The hilarious part is witnessing the level of shameless groveling, damage control, and clumsy begging, our friend is willing to stoop to. 

After an intervention filled with embarrassment, ridicule, and some tear inducing laughs from all parties, I gained the 'kings' permission to post some of the gems. 

But first a disclaimer: If any form of self-respect or sense of shame is something you're expecting, then prepare yourself, because you will find neither in these emails. Also, I wanted to maintain the "purity" of the emails as they were originally written, so I left the misspellings and incorrect grammar. However, for the sake of read-ability, I added some commas and periods here and there. Other than that they are all original text, with the exception of my commentary, which will be in [brackets].

So without further adieu, I now present to you: The Chronicles Of The king Of Richmond.

Sugar Momma

The following correspondence was sent to the kings sugar momma. As her title would imply she is his main source of income. His "Go-To". She works at McDonalds and has had the unfortunate luck to be in  "love" with the king for roughly a year now. This letter is the most recent and well into the travesty that is their "relationship". This email is more focused on making excuses for begging than actual begging, but stay tuned they get worse.

His words are in "quotes" and my commentary is in [brackets]. Some are comments and some are translations of his bullshit, what he really means.

KOR 11/24  “listen, I wasn't insinuating you were fat, and honestly I wasn't trying to hurt your feelings. [he definitely was] I was giving you an example of how you could save a few bucks, so maybe out of the kindness of your heart [or from my incessant guilt laden begging] you could send me a few. Belive it or not, its rough in here, and sometimes I need money to survive in here. [Let's make one thing clear: The constant stress of his habit and the debts he accrues makes his time infinitely more difficult than it needs to be. So more money isn't the solution. It’s the problem.] That's what I was saying. I've been down for 5yrs Jenn and pretty much aint had much help, except from a few. [Just a little context. I get 50$ a month. This jackass spends 300$ a week]. We were together a long time. we broke up when I was in here, so yeah its a little different than if you were just some ex. I shouldn't exspect [too bad they don't give out money for misspelled words] it, but I would hope”. 

“I guess I wasn't who I thought I was to you. [what a word-smith]. I might have put you through a lot of shit, but you sought me out. Remember that. You knew who I was. [Yeah, so you deserve everything I put you through.] Everyone did. I was the king of that town [AND THERE IT IS! The self proclaimed king of Richmond...Oh I can't tell you how embarrassed for him, angered at him, and ashamed to call him my friend I was when I read this!] not to try and sound conceited but I was, [OK. You can't say you’re not being  conceited and then double down on your brag. BTW Richmond has a population smaller than most elementary schools. So it was a small 'kingdom' to say the least] and now no one has my back. it sucks, out of everyone, I hoped that you would have, but no!! [I hope he had a neck brace on when he wrote this. This guy can go from bragging to groveling so fast that it causes whiplash]. When we broke up I wanted you to be happy and get married and do what ever. [He ran out of ideas! That's his limit of things he could conjure up that would make her happy: 2] I just wanted you to still be there for me [AKA: support my habit] and if roles were reversed Jenn, you would have 50 every month and my family would probaly even send you money and that's the proven truth. [From probably to proven truth in half a sentence?]  And you know it, so that shit hurts me, let's just remember who's the one locked up!! I'm the old me again [king?] and I'll remember all my real friends, that were there for me, when I get out in 3 in a half years.[Yeah but will they remember you?] Not long at all. And the thing with frank, [Oh yes! Thankgod he's back on the whole Frank thing! I wish I knew his address I'd send him a bottle of whisky!] belive me, I heard stories, a few. [Yeah and they haunt his dreams] but regardless, I love you, just wish you were kinder to me. ...The king”

[That's his cleanup? Someone get him a neck brace]

KOR 12/6 [Damage control] “baby, funny you say sober honestly, but no i totally understand. im sorry if it feels like sometimes I take you for granted.[by sometimes he means 'all the time'] let me try to explain [please do], in here if you don't get in a constant routine and try to make things repetitive, the time will do you, not you do the time. [A vague prison saying he heard someone say in here once and thought it sounded cool] if that makes sense [it doesn't.], its not my intentions to make it carry over into our relationship [but if it does I'm willing to live with it] I'm sorry [that I have to do this song and dance to get money]. and I fully intend to check myself and let you know how special you truly are to me [and by 'check myself' I mean I'll continue doing the exact same amount of drugs, if not more. and I'll show you how special you are by kindly taking your minimum wage paycheck]. The money you send me is for me to live comfortably in here [get high], that means getting things done that I need to get done while I'm here [I mean, these drugs aren't gonna do themselves.] and 90%, is the food and shit i need to survive [but mostly drugs]. We are already at a disadvantage because I only get 75% of what you send, which sucks [it would be much more efficient if I could put 100% of what you send me up my nose]. And they rip us off on prices on the food as it is. So I'm sorry, but i want you to fully understand you are my baby girl [creepy] and when i get out, roles will reverse and I'll be the provider and you'll live real comfortable [said with his fingers crossed], except when I come home every night and blow that back out bitch!!!! [and theres that winning charm I mentioned! what a smooth operator] I love you. [He doesn't] I got to go to the doctor at 9:30 [Ironically its 'his' back that's blown out] so I'll call you after count [to beg for more $]. I love you [again he doesn't]. if that eases your mind [It shouldn't] I love you!!! [and one final lie to cap off this masterpiece.]

Ex-Girlfriend

These next three are to his ex-girlfriend. She's somewhere down the list of reliable donors, but desperate times call for desperate measures and being a dope fiend in prison means, constant desperate times.

KOR 11/23 "So happy thanksgiving! [Now that the pleasantries are out of the way] So I havnt had any money lately, so no stamps but I just got some anyways [2nd sentence in and already caught in a lie. Clearly if he sent this, he has stamps]. Yeah I heard all about you and Carol's argument, and Dan and Josh messaging, and you jumping in on their message, and Dan cutting into you about being a shitty ex (/friend) [OK, I have to translate. First of all, this email seems to be sponsored by unnecessary commas. I guess some people were attacking her on Facebook for not sending the 'king' an adequate amount of money] Most I agree with. [Especially the money part] You havnt been there for me Jennifer [how dare you!]. I belive you have kinda done me wrong [how do you sleep at night?] and other people believe that too [so there!]. Im not saying your wrong for living your life [but you are] and going and being with someone new [because there's no way he's cooler than me]. but you can look out for the man [I use the term man loosely] that looked out for you since you were just a baby! [???? what???? creepy! actually I need to go ask him about this one.. OK he said he meant when she was 18] When I have asked for money in the past, you deny me [who the fuck do you think you are an ex?]. Hell, I'm broke right now [and that's your responsibility]. I can't get money. [But regardless I incessantly ask for it? Blatant lie no.2] uncle only sends me 50 a month and that ain't shit, that's hygiene a month. [Who calls their uncle uncle and not my uncle? What is he an orphan from the 1800's?] You don't keep money on the phone Jenn. I don't care who your new man is [again, not cooler than me], if you truly love me, you can talk to me. And 50 dollars, every couple of months ain't shit Jenn [trust me its nothing! I blow through it in no time]. So I and everyone else just think your wrong for that [OK, now he's literally speaking for everyone. Which is strange because I don't remember giving him my opinion on how much money his ex should be spending on his habit]. I will always have love for you. I just wish you would treat me with the respect I deserve [but have in no way earned]. I've been down 5 yrs and havnt got no more than 100 dollars from you. i basicaly took the rap and I get no respect. [Now he's doing his Rodney Dangerfield impression? what's next, Dr Vinnie Boombatz? (look it up)]  That's fucked up!!!!! well I thought, since I finally got some stamps I can finally reply. I wish you would start respecting me as someone you love!!! 

'The King of Richmond' (The realest you've ever known!)”  [That last part is 100% real. I almost died laughing when I read this! The realest? No comment I can muster will be adequate at dealing with the ridiculousness of this sign off. What a heavy handed attempt to sound like a cool guy. Remember, this is to an ex-girlfriend! No way does playing the cool guy ever work on an ex. She's been in the bathroom after you. She's smelled your shit. Also remember that the whole point of this email is to beg for money! Oh I'm so glad I'm friends with this silly degenerate!]

KOR 11/24 “what? really I thought we just made it through everything; [Im going to say we and then make you feel bad for a bunch of shit you needed] your rent to your sister, the presents for the babies, your phone you needed [you know, the trivial shit]. I thought we got through it baby? [You mean to tell me the babies got my drug money?] I owe a 100$ and I don't even got a noodle right now. Thank god for you, because my brother doesn't give a fuck if I rot in here [because be knows the real me] and everyone else apparently don't care. [Possibly the most poorly crafted sentence in the history of writing, and now down to business] We can do 100 and then 50. [Tell the babies and your sister to fuck off! I have needs.] So I can eat off the 35 from the 50 for the rest of this month [hope I confused her with all the numbers and poor grammar] cause the only thing I have is 2 soaps [just to be sure, one more number]. so work with me on this and I will make that last to the first OK! [In no world, was he able to make it last until the 1st] 

[And now back to the unwarranted guilt trip:] I thought you were done with all the present buying and rent.You even had a b-day!! [So there's really no excuse for not feeding my addiction. What are you selfish? Use your b-day money!] Which I think you needed to let loose a little anyways. [You really earned it, putting up with my begging and whatnot] I love you babe. I'll call you after count were supposed to have a blizzard today F U N!!!!!” [Bringing it all together with a little sarcastic humor? NICE!]

KOR 12/5 "Really Jenn? Don't think you can shame me for [well, anything but specifically] expecting a little money every once in a while” [you should know by now that shame is not a factor!] "Its not hard to skip going out to eat or buying that extra shirt, [extra shirt?Clearly he could only think of one good example to save money.] to throw me a little extra dough. [yeah, just go hungry and topless] I didn't bring Josh or Dan into this. [This whole exchange is about his friends and sugar mamma shaming Jenn for not sending home enough money] They did that on their own. They told me the conversation they had with you. I just agreed. I also didn't tell Carol to do that. She did that after her and Josh had a conversation about what had happened. Another thing is Jenn, don't kid yourself, I blew through a 35,000 dollar [insurance] check taking care of us, making sure we had a good time and 2 to 3 thousand every month up until i did that year in county (jail) [Yeah, I was a great provider until I got arrested! And by provider I mean cashing an insurance check]. So don't cry to me about a couple hundo [that's right, he's too cool to say hundred] and your fucking Ford Contour. I think your being rude, and you tried your damnest to fuck frank. [OK this is where it goes off the rails. He couldn't wait to mention the whole frank thing so he just shoehorned it in the conversation] I heard. [I'm confused, was she successful in her 'dam nest' attempt to fuck ole Frank?] That's funny [is it?], not that I care [well, I'm convinced. Nothing screams 'I care and it hurts so much' like saying I 'don't care'], cause I do have a good girl (a ride or die bitch I wish I always had) who does take care of me and keeps money on the phone and keeps me in touch with everyone [but only when I beg and grovel]. I'm in prison still pulling bitches [WOW!!! first of all he's definitely not and more importantly that's the most pathetic attempt at intended jealousy]. my point really isn't to brag, that's not what im trying to do. [It is] I'm just saying, its possible to still have a life and support someone in prison. even a little. you have just made NO effort at all and that piss people off and me. cause McDonald's checks weren't supporting our sort of lifestyle sweetie!!!!!! so I guess I wish you would change, but I doubt it. Anyways, happy to hear your grand ma is doing good. and next time you write, attach a stamp.” [OK, he's always good for a ridiculous ending but this one takes the cake. Let's examine: He spends 90% of this letter guilt tripping, berating, talking shit to, and begging for money. Then, literally in the 2nd to last sentence, he mentions her sick grandma's recovery? I have ask him how he carries around such big balls without a limp! And if you're still naive enough to think that he's done, you clearly don't know the ‘king’.]

[Our royal highness still has enough balls, and not enough shame, to ask this poor girl to attach a return stamp so she can continue this charming and fulfilling correspondence with her incarcerated ex-boyfriend. And now its clear how he became the king of Richmond: By sheer clumsy manipulation, a ruthless disregard for self respect, the freedom of movement that a spineless body provides and a fortitude willing to stoop to any low to accomplish his goal to get inebriated. The same way presidents get elected in this country. At any cost he would take the crown and he did. Without ever being to Richmond, I can say this with confidence: Anyone who would make him king and pay tribute to his court, truly deserves his rule. What a spectacular asshole the king is and I count him as a flawed degenerate of the worst degree. But I also count him as a friend…]

[wupassman]

Reviewing SweetStoryBro’s Review of the Shenmue story

https://twitter.com/sweetstorybro/status/831177322803892225

Some first ofs:

I am writing this directly adressing Sweetstorybro because it feels more natural and less impersonal to address him but that doesn’t mean it’s not intended for anybody else. I am one of the big backers (toy capsule set pledge) so I have a lot to say about this game I fought 14 years for to get that Kickstarter.

I am sorry if this may read a lil bit like a scatterbrained person wrote this. I basically take notes as I listen and since I managed to lose my write up for the first half of the podcast I had to rewrite that from memory too.

I really like the effort and research you put into this, while in places I can add something overall this is very sastisfying for a long time fan and definately a pretty goddamn complete rundown of what the story is about and how its executed. That being said generally if there’s agreement there is not a whole lot more to add so if I don’t outright disagree you can assume I agreed.

Let get to it then:

I think you did a really good job at explaining in which way Shenmue surpasses your average gaming experience, while its clearly a game it kinda goes past playing but experiencing. As you pointed out this game can be a very different experience for each player based on how hard they are looking to find connections and generally explore the world (and progress the story at just the right pace as to not miss a single cutscenes XD It’s not too easy to make a 100% run but if you do, things like Nozomi moving isn't as much out of the blue, yes she basically leaves as abrupt as he does but it's foreshadowed during the convos with her). Yu indeed built a very lifelike world with tons of lil details and NPCs that felt real. I really like how you brought up that book explaining what Yu was trying to do with this world. That was a thing I fan haven't heard of before. Indeed it is a very key aspect to differentiate between japanese and chinese, which of course becomes a much bigger deal in part II even, when Ryo is removed from his stomping grounds but in Hongkong. It's actually p interesting how a game about chinese culture was kinda a main idea from the beginning, as he was inspired to be making Shenmue (then Akira RPG/Project Berkley) many years prior, when he travelled China in order to research martial arts for Virtua Fighter.

As this is a perfect segway I’ll be skipping ahead a little bit here and talk about the fighting system.On of the main genres I always played were fighting games so I personally appreciated the super simplified VF fighting system (try VF3TB from the same time and youll know the difference) and being such a player I wouldnt even have thought of wanting to play this with analog stick. Golden rule of fighting games: dpad = accuracy, analog = wishy washy. That being said I am not at all opposed to change it up for Shenmue III and make it feel more like Sleeping Dogs. After all back in the day it was a different controller not quite as handy for 3D games (the lack of a 2nd stick means a lot). As long as the fighting is tight and responsive it works for me either way, iof there is a change that needs to happen it’s the camera. I am not really holding it against the game cuz it’s really old but the camera screw ups during fights could leave you clueless which way youre facing at times.

I wouldnt worry too much about the thing with the chapters. The games don’t equal chapters. It’s more like arcs/themes (as you later said when talking about the PostMortem). From basically the very start Shenmue was supposed to be split into 5 games and as of yet the plan/hope is that the final game will be Shenmue V. Shenmue I was only 1 chapter but Shenmue II was 3.

At the risk of completly blowing any kind of credibility I might have and just come off as a crazed fanboy: The pacing of Shenmue I had purpose. It very much corresponds with the mental state of Ryo. Feeling of grief and feeling lost. Shenmue I basically is about running into a brickwall and trying a different path until at the end he finally finds a way to get his passage to China. Until then his plans were shattered and ruined a couple of times and it weighs on him. And it should weigh on the player too. It’s part of how you manage to get this deep connection to the character because you as a player are forced to live out the day as is (or just go for the blocking out that your dad was killed and spend all day in the You Arcade). this is further emphasiszed that in Shenmue I theres rarely ever good weather and most of the soundtrack is depressing too. The days getting long is absolutely intentional. I can see how this might not be the most fun kind of gaming for a lot of people, but this is why different games exist. Shenmue’s job is not to appeal to players who can’t enjoy a game where shit doesn’t explode every 5 seconds. It is important to tell people who are interested so they know what theyre in for but its not actually a negative for the game itself because it actually perfectly fullfills what was required for this part of the story.

There is no way to talk about this without explaining how this correlates with the 4 themes Yu brought up and why Shenmue II is such a change of tone. It’s not just the fact that Hongkong is a bustling metropolis. It is very much the fact that due to the unseen part on the ferry and much more so because of all the masters and other freaks he meets in Hongkong that he opens up more. Again the change in tone of Shenmue II is also accompanied by visual and audio cues. THe soundtrack of Shenmue II is overall more upbeat, depressing themes do play in the more run down quarters but overall the game sounds cheerier. Likewise its not just that Hongkong of course is a much more colorful place than the suburban area he grew up in. It’s also basically always sunny in SHenmue II. Granted it makes a lot of sense due to the different seasons the game takes place in but of course with a highly artistic work like this, this is not a coincidence.

Let’s move right into the next part here. Yes Ryo behaves like a jerkass towards a lot of his peers. While there is a chance that the Voice Acting has some to do with it (No dissing Corey Marshall, the man is a hero!) it is still fully intended for him to be as cold and brooding as he is. You can tell by the face animation, which is p goddamn good for a game that old. Every Shenmue player made jokes about how Ryo’s happy face looks the same as his angry face. His moments where he is at least not totally miserable are rare and special. He is consumed with grief in Shenmue I. Shenmue II is about moving forward from that. HENCE DEPARTURE. not just locally but mentally. I really need to compare the interactions he had with the 2 most important females in his personal life.

The first one is obviously Nozomi: These conversations are awkward for more reasons than just them sucking at talking about their feelings (which btw isnt just them being teens but really very much them being japanese in this era too). Keep in mind both are aware of the feelings the other one has so they have a very close relationship. You’d think close enough for him to actually tell Nozomi what hes on and about to do in order to find the killer of his father. He doesn’t He’s very sparse with the information he shares which is entirely rooted in the fact that revenge is highly egoistical (heres a theme that gets such importance placed upon in Shenmue II). That doesn’t even mean hes an egoist, cuz he is not. He is just super preoccupied with his grief and aparently nobody really knows how to help him finding a better way to deal with it (given his age that makes sense too, no complaints there). As I mentioned earlier tho it depends on your play how many scenes with Nozomi you’re going to see (the Shenmue Passport cd is a good reference). Also since it wasn’t actually out of the blue that she would be going to Canada soon it is quite understandable she has a hard time telling him about her feelings too. This is not only a well known story beat but IRL youd think whether you wanna tell someone you love them when you know for a fact you’ll be moving overseas anytime soon. Especially when you consider the circumstance that if Ryo wasn’t on his revenge trip he’d assume his role as patriarch of the Hazuki Dojo.

Now lets fast forward to disc 4 of Shenmue II (THIS GEM!) and inspect the interactions Ryo has with Shenhua. These are amazing. They’re literally the best conversations Ryo has in all of the 2 games. Shenhua’s cheery and innocent, good natured personality makes it exceedingly hard for him to be the brooding jerkass anymore. A lot of that has to do with all the people he met who became his friends/mentors in Hongkong/Kowloon. He grew because of them. But Shenhua’s personality helped a great deal too. All of the sudden there are no distractions. Just the environment and her. What else would he do but chat with her? If you havent played Shenmue II I implore you to just youtube the conversations he has with Shenhua and compare with Nozomi yourself. It’s like night and day and p much the ultimate signifier for his growth throughout the progress of the game. Now this is venturing a into fan theory territory: the fan base is p much split down the middle of what kind of romantic role Nozomi is going to play in Ryo’s future. To me shes the child hood love interest that never became more due to him being preoccupied and her frankly not actually being available either. It would seem sensible to accept this as a chance missed as a part of moving on. I am positive he is going to end up with Shenhua as she resumes transforming him from this brooding dude preoccupied with revenge to a guy who truly internalises the lessons he learnt in Hongkong and adds a big helping of humanity to it. 

Not to excuse his behavior towards Ine-san and Fukuhara-san (because you rightly identify them as cold) part of that is also rooted in japanese culture. With Iwao’s death Ryo became the patriarch of the family. Ine-san may scold him but in the end it is not her place to deny him. Likewise Fukuhara-san was Iwao’s student so that kind of transferred to Ryo now. The bigger point here is that he abandons his responsibilities for them. I don’t think it’ll have actual negative impact for him in story, but there is likely going to be a moment of awakening that it is high time he returns home and takes care of the martial arts school.

I am sorry this actually took a 2nd day to finish but I got busy watching Collisions 2017. I only listened to it once but in seghments. Since I am such a huge fan of the game I wanted to be fair and not overanalyze your review and find nitpicks where there arent any.

While the individual play style is entirely up to each player it is my recommendation for everyone playing this, it to give it time. Let it breathe. Just waste your time away doing fun stuff. You’re going to miss out on a lot if you’re playing it in the way youd play most linear games where you just resume with the next goal in the main quest like crossing of a check list. You are not supposed to leave this early. During my fast plays I still never finished before christmas. At best I managed a jan 15 arrival in Hongkong just to see if I manage to arrive on my own birthday lol. But in all seriousness the time limit for this game is so goddamn long because you arent really suppoed to rush through this too fast. Leaving by the middle of January or even by the end of it makes for an overall better experience IMO (lol I just heard the 10 hours thing and I damn near lost it haha. look as I said it’s ok to play it any way you see fit, but seriously 10 hours literally means just the main quest. no goofing off. You’re missing out on stuff and an overall more majestic experience is all I am saying) To me the harbor segment was super fun cuz it was cool figuring out how you get the most out of each day, incl at least some good toy collecting and maybe training (usually didnt need that anymore at this point). By no means I am trying to tell you to like an aspect you didn’t, but to me this very much comes down to how deep you immerse yourself in the world. If you let the time go by slowly (dont run basically😉) such things as working have a deeper impact on how you experience it - then 2h lunch break still feels like 15 minutes. It was literally the opposite for me in that the harbor is when I am p much forced to move the plot forward instead of just goofing off so much. I know people who share this kinda play style feel the same way that the harbor is - to us - where it really picks up.

Before my review of this is over I’d also like to personally recommend the japanese dub over the english dub. Yeah the english dub feels weird at times but this is also intentional. A good comparision to that would be the lines in the Spartacus TV show. Just like that one was speaking latin in english the Shenmue dub was speaking japanese in english if you get my meaning. The VAs talked about this on the SEGANerds podcast during the kickstarter. Of course due to having played it so much it works for me but it’s easy to tell the difference. At the same time I can not praise the english VAs enough for being incredible heroes who promoted the Kickstarter hard, it was amazing. I love all of you guys. Thank you for your passion. Will def play Shenmue III in both japanese and english to honor all of you!

I warned ya it’s prolly a lil bit all over the place. Anyway thanks for the review. give the man a follow: https://twitter.com/sweetstorybro