#im playing detroit again

[voidanie]

Kamski fangirls knew something back then

Ive been obssesed with Baldur's gate 3, Astarion has rooted my brian by now.

Why do i say this? because i fucking love Detroit become human, and i fucking love Neil Newbon.

And now i understand why there were some people fancying Elijah so much, that man does things with his characters, i dont know what does he put on them, but now i get it

[simmyfrobby]

What are your top 3 nhl teams with the best vibes?

ooh ok. yea. fun. love this. im going to declare all my biases upfront: im a pens, bruins & wild fan so obviously my nr 1 is:

minny

they have flower. they have kaprizov. they go on homoerotic little holidays together. they have two deweys and one foligno. their captain is pretty and everyone is short. every game is somehow embarrassing. even if they win. especially if they win. 11/10 cant lose.

nr 2: philly

i dont follow them or root for them but i will have nightmares about the dog mask every day for the rest of my life. also they made drysdale come hang out w them during the all star break and that was cute. also the conga line. hardass coach but we stay silly. 9/10 solid vibes.

nr 3: yotes

jason zucker lives there.

[bisexualcherdegre]

D:BH AU | Josh and Simon break into the CyberLife Store

[constantvariations]

I remember someone saying "there's no such thing as a good racism allegory" and it's been bouncing around in my head for a while. I'm someone who typically thinks anything can work if given the right circumstances, but then I really started thinking about it and I believe they're right

Because if you want to talk about racism, you should just talk about racism

(This is unpolished and ramble-y, so strap yourselves in)

Racism is deeply ingrained into our society, no matter where you live. Imperialism and colonialism has ensured that no corner of Earth has been left untouched. Choices from hundreds of years ago are still being felt today. There's practically no end to the discussion of its effects on the world and its people

So, why should anyone feel the need to dress it up in cat ears?

I've consumed a lot of media where writers have consciously echoed in part some aspect of racism in their fantasy story: Bright 2017, Dragon Age, RWBY, the MCU, Harry Potter, Detroit: Become Human, etc. The biggest thing they have in common is that the narrative is told to side with the victims, but it somehow always ends up against them

It always sides with the status quo

It's confusing, maddening even, because the narrative oft goes out of its way to show how horrible the system is and how these folk don't deserve their treatment, so why are we going back to normal as if it's a good thing? Why are the people actively working to improve the system decried as annoying at best and monstrous at worst?

Then you look at the people who write these storylines. The beliefs they hold, the people they vote for, which charities and organizations they give to, and it all makes sense. Centrists (at best) trying to look progressive are the ones who need to dress racism up in cat ears and rainbow freckles. They set aside the long, brutal histories and crushing systemic realities to play pretend that racism is Not That Bad and is only done by Those Bad Individuals

That's why Velvet's ears are tugged instead of culled. That's why the Mantle drunkards say mean things to Blake instead of attempting to assault her. That's why everything surrounding the SDC's labor practices is so vague as to be useless while the biggest evidence of their malice is hand-waved away by a writer who says the victim "had it coming" as if someone can deserve being branded by being too much of a brat

These stories aren't meant to make the audience question why our society works off the bloodied backs of the exploited or demands we take good, hard looks at ourselves and how we've been duped into believing so much garbage about entire swathes of people. They're meant to satisfy the people who only feel bad that these things are happening because they (white folk) look like the bad guys. It's a self-congratulatory wank about how "I'm not like THOSE guys, therefore I'm a good person!"

And then there's the characters meant to convey this story in the first place: always inoffensive, mostly aimless, "not like the other girl" types that pander to that delicate palate. Blake - a conventionally attractive, pale skinned girl in fashionable clothes - used to be passionate about equality but only in the right way, and demonizes anyone who does not conform to this mindset despite having no reasoning to back it up while never once demanding better of the privileged people around her even when they do racially insensitive things

The biggest downfall of these racial allegories, be they about cat girls or orcs or elves or robots, is that they do something that marginalized folk have been forced to endure since the dawn of time: literal dehumanization. There are tangible differences between humans and whatever the allegory is, which undermines the very fundamental fact that black/asian/queer/neurodivergent/disabled/whatever folk are unapologetically, undeniably, exceedingly human. By dressing up their plights in cat ears or spottled blue skin, you're creating theater not for the people who actually live through these struggles as a means of connecting with them and providing them a safe outlet for their feelings, but giving the people who benefit from passively allowing the system to enforce said struggles a pat on the head for not being the grand wizard

I don't really know where I'm going or how to end this, so I'll just sign off with if you're going to talk about racism, just talk about racism

[thinkingthingsthrough]

would it be insane of me to try and go see ed sheeran twice in detroit next month after already seeing him in toronto this month

[softspiderling]

✦ . * ocean blue eyes pt. IV | r.c

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

author’s note: ive been working overtime on the plot so just be aware that i am cooking. Also this part is very text heavy! Tagging @zyafics bc i don’t wanna be yelled at again and @ghostofwriting bc <3 Hope you enjoyyy

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

liked by sarahcam, gracieabrams, rafe and 1.924.812 others

youruser new york i have a surprise coming for you soon

view all 13.570 comments

ynbrazil I guess you're in New York today

➞ ynswift I don't wanna need you this way

ynalways 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

ynsboyfriend WHY NEW YORK AND NOT DETROIT

➞ samira_johnson … I think you know why

ynsbaby New York how does it feel to be mother’s favorite

➞ sunburninmiami *everyone’s favorite

↳ ynsbaby you’re so right😔

sarahcam 🤭🤭🤭

➞ youruser 🤫

empirestatebldg on the edge of the seat

allhailyn booking my tickets as we speak

ynylnsbaby PLS no more, I have FOMO😔

ynswift HUH?

whationlylistentoyn YN PLS WAIT I HAVENT BEEN PAID YET😭

➞ ynonly REAL😭😭

────────────

Your phone:

────────────

Sarah’s phone:

────────────

liked by sarahcam, popeheywardphotography, youruser and 982.083 others

loewe Kildare’s own Rafe Cameron and Cleo Griffith for LOEWE’s Summer collection 2024 campaign

Photography Pope Heyward

Creative Direction Carla Limbrey

Creative Partner Ollie Walters

Styling Scarlett Peters

Hair Lana Grubbs

Make up Kiara Carerra

view all 5.721 comments

kiecarerra absolutely breathtaking

➞ kiecarerra and Rafe is there too, ig

➞ cleogriffith 💘

suckerforrafe It’s Rafe’s world and we’re just living in it

popeheywardphotography my baby did that

➞ cleogriffith YOU!!❤️

rafeonmymind this is so COOL

cleogriffith 🖤

sarahcam ATE

rafefan OMG

allaboutrafe I would use those strings on his pants to *** ****** ** *** ***

➞ jjsandrafes girl….

youruser 🤩

❤️liked by cleogriffith and rafe

rafesgf Kiara Carerra as in the Kiara who was at Rafe’s bday party?

➞ raferaferafe not you again…

eloiseeee Pope doing the photos for Cleo’s shoot is goals😭

────────────

Cleo’s phone:

Rafe’s phone:

────────────

liked by rafe, sarahcam, empirestatebldg and 2.941.031 others

youruser so excited to announce that I’ll be playing a show at Times Square on the 7th of June! This is such an iconic location and I can’t wait to celebrate 1 billion streams with you 🩷 get tickets through the link in bio and story, & hopefully I’ll see you thereee🫶🏼

view all 12.921 comments

empirestatebldg locked and loaded🫡

allaboutyn kfkajaoasoaolgksoflggwpap

ynfancam God (YN) only gives his strongest soldiers (me) the hardest battles (not being in NY when she’s doing a show)

sarahcam taking over NY🗣️

➞ youruser🫡

ynylnfan Nobody talk to me😔

jimmyfallon Wait so you’re in the neighborhood? What if you pop in for a chat?🙂‍↕️

➞ youruser Let me check my schedule Jimmy🤭

kiecarerra AHHHH IM SO EXCITED!!!!

➞ youruser can’t wait to finally meet youuu🤍

whationlylistentoyn sobbing

sunburninmiami OMFG I GOT TICKETS!!!1!1!!

➞ ynnnnn4lyfe HOW😭 the tickets were sold out in MINUTES

➞ ynylnsbaby So happy for you😭

cleogriffith queen is taking over New York👑

➞ youruser stoppppp😭😭😭

ynsgf this is so sick and twisted of you😭

➞ ynsunshine screaming crying throwing up😔

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author’s note: tell me what you think 🙂‍↕️

[hughes86-43]

An Hour and Half | L.Hughes

summary - what happens when your flight seat mate happens to be a super cute guy and you only have an hour and half to talk to him

warnings/note- none; i have no clue how long a plane ride is from new jersey to detroit is sooo im guessing

Masterlist

“Hi, excuse me, my seat is by the window, if you don’t care to let me through?” You ask the young guy sitting in the middle seat in your row. He was wearing a ‘drew’ hoodie with black sweatpants.

Looking up at you from his phone, he immediately gets out of his seat. “Oh gosh, sorry! Of course, go ahead.” You give him a small smile and squeeze through to get to your seat. You loved taking the window seat, however you hated the awkwardness of getting through the row.

“Thank you,” You wince. “Oh, wait! Before you sit down, I hate to ask, but can you grab my water bottle out of the black and white carry on up above? I’m so sorry, I completely forgot about it!” The guy nods and opens the compartment and finds the water bottle.

“It’s no problem, really. Is there anything else you need?” He asks as he hands the bottle over to you.

You shake your head. “No, I think I’m all set.” The guy nods once again and sits back down in his seat.

You go back to getting comfortable in your seat and reply back to your mom telling her that you made it on to the plane. While the flight attendants go over the safety precautions, you can’t help but to side eye the cute guy sitting next to you. He had roughly curled hair and some small stubble on his face. He looked a bit tired.

He must’ve noticed you side eyeing him because he removes his earbud and asks, “Did you need out? Sorry, I can’t hear anything with these,” he points to his earbud.

Immediately blushing, because there’s no way that he totally didn’t see you checking him out, you reply, “Oh, no! I’m all good! Also, doesn’t seem like anybody else is in the row so that’s good!”

The guy smiles at your nervousness. “Yeah, it makes the plane ride ten times better when nobody is at the end of the row. Although for you, you would have to ask me to move but still, one person is better than two to get through,” the guy laughs out.

“Honestly though. Last plane ride I was on, none of the people sitting in my row would move, so I had to awkwardly try to go over them. Gosh, it was so embarrassing but why not just move out of the way!” The guy laughs at that, putting his earbuds back into his case.

“Well, if you need me to move, just ask and I will. Since we’re here for a bit, guess I’ll introduce myself, my name is Luke.” He sticks his hand out for you to shake and introduce yourself. You’re not one to talk much to the person sitting next to you on the plane, but something about him honestly has you intrigued.

Shaking his hand, you say, “My name is Y/N, nice to meet you.”

“Y/N, lovely name. So are you heading to Michigan as a trip or do you have family there?” He asks as he returns his hand back to his lap.

You lean against the window. “I actually have some family there, and it’s my grandmother’s 90th birthday so I’m heading back to that. I’ll stay for a bit. What about you? What has you going to Michigan?” You raise your eyebrow waiting on his answer.

“Wow, 90 years old, go her,” he smiles, “Well, long story is my team just finished for the season and I’m heading home to be with the family and spend time with friends that I need to catch up with.”

You nod. “If that’s the long story, what would the short story be?”

He laughs and tries to think, “Um, the short story would probably be going home, but the long story was better.” You laugh as you fiddle with the water bottle in your hand.

You go back to asking about his team he mentioned. “So your team? What sport do you play?”

He looks at you weirdly for a second before giving a toothy grin. “Do you live in New Jersey?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Have you heard of the New Jersey Devils?” Luke asks.

You think back to a sign you saw. “Honestly, I saw a billboard about them, and I think my co-worker is obsessed with them, but mostly no.”

He lets out another laugh, and you raise your eyebrow. “You live in New Jersey, and you barely know about the New Jersey Devils? Do you know or watch anything about hockey?”

“I mean, I seen that one movie. Gosh, what is it? Is it like called ‘sensation’ or something?” You try to think. “Oh gosh, no! It wasn’t called ‘sensation’ it was called—”

He cuts you off, “Miracle.”

You scream out, “Yes!” Then wince as you realize that was a bit loud. Lowering your voice, you continue, “Yes, the hockey movie called Miracle. My dad made me watch all the time, but that’s all I know about hockey really.” You shrug.

If Luke didn’t know better, he already knows that he wants to get to know you better. “Miracle’s a good movie. Anyway, back to my team, I actually play for the New Jersey Devils.”

You shake your head, not believing him. “No way, prove it!”

Luke grabs his phone out of his pocket and shows you a recent game day photo of him in his jersey. “See, jersey, skates, and everything. I play on the defense side.”

You take a minute, probably too long, to look at the photo. Gosh, he did look in his jersey, and his hair was a bit longer in that photo. “Okay, I believe you. So, do you like it? Sorry, if that’s a bit too much to ask, I’m just a curious person.”

“No, it’s okay. Honestly, I love it. Some days and games are a bit tougher than others, but I still love it no matter what. I actually play with one of my older brothers on the team,” Luke says, a bit proud of playing with his brother.

“That’s awesome, I couldn’t imagine playing with my brother on a team, so that’s really awesome,” you say.

“Yeah, it really is,” he beams, “Anyway, the season just ended for us last week due to getting eliminated from the playoffs.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. That must suck!”

“Yeah, but we have a chance to look over the season and come back better next season. Like yeah it sucks, but I also get to go home early. It’s a win lose situation,” he shrugs.

“Still, I see how it would suck, but if you didn’t get eliminated, you wouldn’t be on this plane talking to me right now,” you smile.

“Ha, I guess you’re right,” he guides a hand through his curls. “Enough about my job, what do you do back in New Jersey?”

You wince at the mention of talking about what you do for work. Your job recently wasn’t doing it for you. You had been working at an advertising agency for a while now, but after awhile, you decided it was not for you. You wanted a new job, but you also haven’t been looking. “Eh, I work at an advertising agency. Overall, it pays the bills, but it’s not my favorite.”

Luke replies, “Did you go to school for advertising or something related?”

You shake your head, “No, I actually went for public relations, but somehow I got this job in advertising. One of my friends put in a good word for me, but I have slowly started to dread going to work.”

Luke nods, “I’m sorry that you don’t like your job.”

You shrug, looking passed him to the couple across the aisle. “Honestly, I should really get a new job if I hate it so much, but the idea of going through the process of applying and interviewing is so nerve wracking for me.”

Luke listens to see if you’re going to add anymore before talking. Truthfully, you’ve never seen a guy take the time to listen so well about your problems, let alone a stranger you just met. He speaks up again, “Although that would be nerve wracking, it would mean that you get a chance to get a new job. I say go for it, especially since you’re not loving the job you already have. You should have a job that you love to do, not a job that just pays the bills.” Honestly, Luke has no idea where all these encouraging words are coming from, but he was just letting them spill out in the chance it would help you.

“You’re right, I totally should. You’ve changed my perspective, I guess when I head back to New Jersey I’ll look at job openings related to what I want to do,” you say, smiling up at him.

You and Luke continue to talk for the next hour on the plane. Talking about various adventures you’ll both get into when you’re back in Michigan, he talks about his brothers and how they both play in the NHL, and you talk about your grandparents and how they are you’re world. Time has a sense of flying by when you’re enjoying time with someone, and surprisingly you’re enjoying and loving the time talking to Luke. Even though you both just met, you two could talk forever. You really didn’t want to get off the plane as that would mean you wouldn’t be able to talk to him much more.

An hour or so later, the moment you had been dreading since talking to him has come, time to depart the plane. You’re walking down the hallway leading out of the plane when Luke speaks up next to you. “I know it’s crazy that we just met, but honestly you’re the easiest person to talk to that I have ever met. Hopefully that made sense?”

You nod, looking into his eyes, trying to savor the last look at him. “It made sense. I think the same goes for me. You listened to what I had to say, which is surprising because most people stop listening to me after awhile,” you blush at his intense stare, actually noticing how tall he was when you stood next to him.

You both make it through the exit. Luke turns to you again and tries to say, “Since we’re both gonna be here in Michigan for a bit, we should—” but he gets cut off by someone yelling. “LUKE!”

You both turn to where the sudden yelling was from. He mumbles, a hint of red touching his cheeks, “my brother, Quinn.” You nod, moving to the side so he can hug his brother.

Quinn must notice you, because he says to Luke, “Oh, sorry for interrupting, go ahead.” He pushed Luke to go back talking to you, but when he does, he notices that you have walked off to meet with, what he assumes is, your grandparents.

He smiles as he watches you hug and kiss them both. He watches as you hold a finger, signaling them to hold on for a second, and you walk back over to him. “I’m sorry, I gotta head on out, it was so lovely to meet you and talk to you, Luke.”

He smiles, “It was great to meet you, too, Y/N. As I was trying to say before, since we’re both in Michigan for a bit, how about we try and hang out?”

You try to stay cool, but you still let out a massive grin. “Yes, absolutely! I would love to!”

“Great! Reach out to me!” He moves closer to you, before he chickens out, he pulls you into a hug. You instantly hug him back, thinking it was crazy how you just met him and now don’t want him to go. “Bye, see you soon,” he says, pulling away and walking towards his brother.

You stand there a bit in shock before yelling across to him, “Wait, but I don’t have your number!”

Luke turns around, he gives you a grin, “Check your bag! I might’ve put it in there while I was getting it down!” You blush, giving him a thumbs up before heading over to your grandparents with the biggest grin on your face.

-

Later on, you finally get to unpacking your bag. Upon unzipping it, a piece of paper falls out. He must’ve written it when you went to the bathroom. Written on it, it says…

“It was great meeting you, and you’re the best person ever to talk to. If you ever need someone to listen, call me… xxxxxxxx”

Needless to say, you did call him, and he listened to you all night long. Both of you were in over your heads with each other.

[ratatatastic]

you dont think it gets worse until you listen to senkos first presser held as a cat and then you cry again like youve stopped crying in the first place lmao

"Aaron Ekblad just said you skate here in the summer with the guys. Do you feel like you kind-of know them a little bit? Not only playing against them so many times, but just working out here in the offseason?" "Yeah, I knew some guys from the summers. I knew some guys from way long ago like Bob, and Niko Mikkola. They were always joking to me to come join them so it finally happened... And even in the summer when we skated here it seemed like a good group of guys. I'm excited to be a part of it."

"they were always joking to me to come join them so it finally happened" THE WAY HE HUFFS A LITTLE LAUGH AND CANT HELP SMILING THINKING ABOUT IT ABOUT ALL THE TIMES BOBBY AND MIKKSY MUSTVE ANNOYED HIM ABOUT IT

to know mikksy and bob were manifesting this so hard... they are nothing but teenage girls going wish you were here <3 while theyre in completely different countries GOD

to ALSO know on mikksy senko calls/texts this is what that goof was doing... going come join me here in florida like im gonna be sick SICK I TELL YOU RECRUITING HIS CRUSH AND IT ACTUALLY FUCKING WORKED WHAT IS THIS

"Skating around with Niko...How much—Did you talk to him before things? Or anything like that? He's only been here a year, but you guys have obviously been together for a while." "Yeah, I talked to him after games, and he just shared his thoughts on the group—How good the group is and how much he enjoys his time here. We played together in St. Louis for like 4 years...I was happy to see him again this morning."

youre telling me mikksy and senko kept up regular correspondence after games and mikksy just kept splurging about how much he loved his new fambily and his new home to senko...he was new to the cats and he still did that...

"i was happy to see him again this morning :)" being run over by a 18 wheeler would literally be less painful than this

also senkos lips twitch the second george richards says "niko" like he was poised to say something but waited until he finished his question and i think thats something we should talk about

philadelphia flyers @ florida panthers pregame interview | 3.7.24 (x)

very obvious how much they enjoyed sharing ice again during morning skate the yearning was so palpable how i keep finding footage of it is genuinely beyond me (x)

GIRL STOP LOOKING AT HIM AND SMILING YOU ARE IN THE MIDDLE OF PRACTISE

senko is also not immune to mikksy "i was happy to see him again this morning" yeah no i couldnt surmise that at all it actually wasnt supremely obvious from the way you find excuses to touch him

you can just tell the minute he sees mikksy in his vicinity hes already made up his mind to go over to him like he cant keep fighting the magnets stuck in his jersey that makes him float over to mikksy...

patting his elbow in encouragement during drills....looking back in longing desire...girls we are in public can we tone it down you are at an 11 i need you to take it down to a 2 🫳

and may we find each other again just like we did before

[tarteeee]

ive recently been playing Detroit become human again just to feel something and it's just so happened to coincide with my obsession with one piece and my brain is going places. zosan places.

so perhaps...DBH zosan au? long post under the cut

Im imagining that Judge is some main engineer at CyberLife and created a line of prototype military androids. he starts off with Reiju, perfects the tech then in one fell swoop creates 1234ji. BUT, as per canon, Sanji is defective. Against all protocol and logic, Sanji has somehow had a caretaker (cooking, cleaning, babysitting) android program installed and it Just. Won't. Delete. It's Sora, Judge's wife and fellow engineer who hates that part of her work is going to be used to harm people rather than help them.

Judge can't fix whatever the hell's wrong with Sanji so he sends him to some local police station, figuring that it's way too expensive (and sort of illegal) to destroy property that's technically not his and the rest of his programming dedicated to stealth, reconnaissance, and data gathering could be put to use. 124ji gets instead shipped to do military work.

What neither Judge nor Sora know is that Sanji deviated, he'd deviated from the beginning. The program won't be deleted from his code because he doesn't let it. He wants to try helping people, He's relieved he's being sent away but really would rather just settle down with some family and at least get to try some of the things he knows how to do now. Cooking at least looks like fun...

At the police station he gets partnered up with Zoro, a gruff young upstart that has put away so many criminals people think he's some sort of demon. Zoro has his own beliefs on androids, doesn't like that despite the fact that they look human, they're cold and unfeeling. He can't shake off the fact that they're just machines after his childhood best friend fell down the stairs in the middle of the night and a glitch in their household androids code made it unable to alert emergency services despite the fact that she fell right in front of it. Nothing quite sparks a hatred for androids like knowing that a normal human would have immediately jumped in to help, no program necessary.

Needless to say he's not the happiest about being saddled with the android, and gets even more pissed off when it tries to tell him how bad his self-care habits are. Sanji doesn't actually care, its only programmed to. He's not human, it's even numbered for fuck's sake.

I imagine they'd have a lot of tension, with Sanji trying his hardest to both take care of the people around him but also not act too far out of what he's supposed to do because he doesn't want others to find out he's deviated. And he really doesn't understand Zoro, who despises any help or attempt to get closer from him but only barely manages to hide a smirk and stifle laughter when Sanji accidentally lets out some snide comment about an annoying coworker. In his mind palace, zen garden area, the person who meets him switches from Sora to Judge, depending on what issues are at the forefront of his task list and he gets along well with Robin, a crime analyst and her husband Franky, who works in the precincts' IT and tech department.

For the other androids obviously Luffy would take Markus' place, wanting to gain legal freedom and rights for androids. He's inspired from the freedom he saw in his previous owner, Shanks, and even got to have his straw hat after Shanks told him to run and chase his dreams. His revolution is backed by other androids he finds along the way. Koby, who wants to have a peaceful revolution and not be shunned by human society, Trafalgar Law, who urges him that humans won't listen to reason and that a bloody battle is inevitable. Usopp, despite being afraid of being deactivated follows Luffy and says that he trusts his judgement and knows that there are understanding humans out there, like his previous owner Kaya. Brook and Chopper join Luffy as well, they were androids who were a model skeleton and an animatronic made to have kids feel at ease at a doctors' office, respectively. The three of them are not water proof models ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Nami, I feel, would take Kara's place. She comes to at a CyberLife store and is taken home by Arlong who uses her for housekeeping. At Arlong's place she finds Vivi, a girlfriend that he's obviously abusing. She deviates the same night that she find him hitting Vivi. They run away together and the less that's said about the state they left Arlong in, the better. They try to take refuge at Crocodile's place but find out that he scraps down androids for parts and sells them. There they find Jinbei, a strong android whose model was originally made for carrying heavy loads at docks and stuff, and escape together. They later find out that Vivi was an android girlfriend that Arlong had bought a while ago.

[a-swamp-creature]

goddamn like….

there was an extremely sus “bridgerton ball” held downtown this last weekend that turned out to be a dashcon-level scam. probably couldve guessed that from the ads/website being littered w spelling errors, but anyway…listing a few of the things i know of:

-it was supposed to happen last month but the organizers (Uncle & Me Events) sold 1500 tickets for a venue w a max capacity of 450. Venue cancelled, of course. Organizers sent out one (1) email two days before the thing was supposed to happen. A lot of ppl didn’t even see the email so people were showing up to an empty venue in downtown Detroit wearing regency-era ballgowns. Security apparently told some of them that the event was a scam but idk how true that is. Anyway it was rescheduled at a new venue for a month later.

-valet parking was promised, not delivered. parking downtown is a pain in the ass in general but these people were also wearing ballgowns lmao

-nobody checking tickets at the door. there was a tiered pricing scale for tickets starting at $100 and going up to $1000 (a fool and his fukkin money i s2g) so all these ppl from the suburbs who paid hundreds/THOUSANDS of dollars to be treated like VIPs were pissed

-because nobody was checking tickets, people were just kind of wandering in off the street lmaaaaoooo so ppl were just kind of milling around in normal clothes eating the buffet, which leads me to…

-the food was bad: pasta w marinara, canned green beans, meatballs, and undercooked/raw chicken wings. people were expecting a sit down meal apparently? but I think that might just be the expectations of ppl more accustomed to tea parties than actual large scale events - ain’t no way they were ever going to do full-service dinner for 1500 people. it was always going to be a buffet.

-NO ALCOHOL lmaaaoooo the event info said open bar, there wasn’t even a cash bar. no shit, they had water and “mocktails”. check out the menu:

ITS ALL LEMONADE LMAAAOOOO but wait!!! ppl who bought VIP tickets also got hawaiian punch !!!

-see the tablecloth in that pic? the decorations were bad. like dollar store bad.

-they were supposed to have a bunch of different activities: dance lessons, costume contests, carriage rides. neither of the first two happened. the carriage rides did, but you had to pay extra and they only did them for three hours. again, 1500 people.

-that’s not to say there was no entertainment. they had a dj playing pretty standard birthday party dj fare: the hustle, cha cha slide. he also played hiphop which really upset a lot of the ppl larping as wealthy colonizers for SOME reason 🤔 disclaimer: i assume they were expecting classical music but a looooot of people specifically complained about the hiphop

- oh there was also a single exotic dancer stationed in the middle of an empty room. i am not joking. im not in the business of posting photos of strangers but the photos are out there and they’re tragic. this poor woman just took a gig and ended up with a bunch of middle class pearl clutchers complaining abt her on fb. that being said, my understanding is bridgerton is smut for ppl who want to pretend they’re above watching porn so idg why a dancer is such a big fucking deal, just sit down and watch ffs. oh wait-

-there was nowhere to sit lmao

-and no refunds

seems pretty clear that after overselling and losing the first venue, the organizers lost all their vendor contracts and had to scramble to have anything at all. could’ve just cancelled. btw the no refunds thing included if it was cancelled - they’ll just credit you for the next event lol

now listen. i do feel bad. I don’t think anyone deserved this really. I DO find it very funny that a bunch of of ppl who can afford $1000 tickets to dress up in expensive costumes and pretend to be aristocrats got scammed big time by Detroit.

[delillilah]

After Practice

September 11th, 2021

5:23pm

Luke had partied a little to hard for his 18th, so he’s been bed ridden at home since yesterday, Anna went home this morning but he just told her to go back to school and mom has been taking care of him.

She had no classes or practice today, which led her to stroll around campus and down some streets, eventually finding herself at the library where she decided to sit and relax.

All was peaceful until loud whispers were coming from the door and grew louder and louder until they were right next to her. What she wasn’t expecting was to turn her head and see Ethan, mark and two people she didn’t recognize. “Yo- it’s Hughesy’s sister” Ethan gasps and moves to sit at her table, Ethan and other two following in suit.

“Hello Ethan, mark.. and two people I don’t know” she chuckles but her smile was mainly due to the fact mark sat next to her.

Something she hadn’t felt in a long time, butterflies.

“That’s dukers and samo ”

“Dylan duke” the one known as dukers smiles.

“Mackie samoskevich” the other replies and she introduces herself.

“You doing anything at 6?” He asks quietly as the other boys were now off in their own worlds.

“Nope, maybe watch a movie, or go for a skate”

“Could I accompany you on this skate? Teams going to a party after a practice and I don’t want to”

“Yea of course, Im going to the one in canton, that alright?”

“mmmm have you ever skated at yost”

“No? Do they do public skates?”

“Well no, but I have a pass where during certain hours I can go skate, do you wanna go there?”

“Yea that sounds fun-”

“Hey! Estapa let’s go” Dylan calls from a few feet away. They didn’t realize the three were up and moving away, make glanced at his watch and started to stand up while she raised an eyebrow at him.

“Practice, I’ll text you when I’m done okay, if you don’t mind meeting me there”

“Yea I’ll meet you there, see ya later mark”

“Bye Anna”

She smiles when he walked away, her brothers would have a field day if they saw the way she was blushing right now. So that’s why she waited to get back to her dorm to face time Quinn.

“Hey Q-Ball” she says when the call goes thru, making him roll his eyes playfully to which he replies “You hang out with Jack to much”

“Actually the opposite, he’s the sibling I hang out the least with” she realizes, making her eyebrows furrow.

“Yea, your both really busy, but devils are playing Detroit soon so you should do something, without Luke”

Quinn has pretty much made it a job to make sure all siblings get along at all times, especially Annabelle and Jack since they had a rocky relationship through her ages 5-13, 7-15 in jacks ages.

“Quinn, we aren’t fighting. I know you care a lot but we are good now” she smiles and begins to look around her closet.

“I know, but moving on, what are you up to? Looking for something?”

“Yea my.. haha! Got them. Oh yea I was looking for my skates- roller skates. There are some nice paths around campus” She lied, it was ice skates she was looking for.

“Oh you should go down near the golf course, much emptier I walked there all the time”

“will do, but i gotta get going so ill call you again in a bit?”

“No, call Jack when you get a minute” He orders, she sighs and decides to agree just to hey him off her back. “Will do, bye Quinn”

“Bye Annie”

She put on a knit sweater, leggings and some crew socks then slipped on a pair of boots, most likely the blundstones she wears everywhere. Then waits for the text from mark that arrived less then 2 minutes later.

Mark! 🌷

All done

You can come whenever

Anna! 🎀

Be there in 5 :)

It took a little longer due to after class traffic but she’s a fast walker, she walked into the arena with her bag slung over her shoulder and a pink tint to her cheeks from the cold wind.

“Cold?” She hears ahead of her, that voice belonging to the one and only mark Estapa who stands in skates and a hoodie with sweats.

“Just a little” she says quietly and sits on the bench, taking off her boots to replace with skates.

“Ready?” She turns and asks him with a smile, to which he stands and they walk side by side onto the rink.

[too-attached-to-fiction]

in his own image | Detroit: Become Human

Masterlist here

Read on ao3

Word count: 2,788

“Lieutenant,” Connor starts. Hank shoots him a glare, sparing Connor of the usual “for fuck’s sake, you don’t need to call me that when we’re not working” speech as he chews. “Do you believe in God?” “Are you high?” Hank retorts. Connor pushes on. “Do you?” Hank chews some more, swallows and looks down at the burger in his hands. “Not anymore, really.” ~~~ Connor tries to understand rA9 by asking other humans and androids. It's a little more complicated than he expects.

Notes:

I am not religious, I've never been religious, but I am familiar with the Christian/Catholic faith, which is the primary faith referenced here. But because Markus encounters an anti-android activist preaching on the street, and because there are direct parallels between rA9 and Christ, I wondered what would happen if Connor also pursued this question. I'm not saying all religion is bad or anything but I do think it plays a large role, specifically in Western society, and I wanted to examine that role through Connor's eyes. Happy reading!

~~~

The question first crosses Connor’s mind in Carlos Ortiz’s house in November as he stares at the shrine to ra9. There’s a wooden statuette the deviant has carved in the shower. It stands underneath the repeated symbols painted on the wall. Ra9, ra9, ra9. The letters are scattered and too uniform to be made from anything other than a stencil or an android. There’s nothing in his brief research that indicates that this is an important… something to humans.

He picks up the statuette. It’s obviously been carved by hand, but his sensors say that none of Ortiz’s DNA is on the figure. It was most likely carved after Ortiz’s death, as the carvings seem fresher than the body that’s currently slumped against the wall in the dining room.

In his data, he marks the shrine as a potential religious offering. He’ll ask about it later, Connor decides.

At the police station, he offers to interrogate the deviant HK400. Connor asks about the statue, demands to know who rA9 is. But the android in front of him only claims that he will be saved because of the offering, and quiets when Connor continues to pursue the name.

The name only pops up again in the bathroom of another deviant, and again, when Connor watches that same deviant jump to his destruction, praying rA9 will save him. His software determines that he’s failed his mission to learn more as Hank struggles to catch up to him, hissing and swearing.

He asks Hank first, after the revolution. It’s snowing outside of the Chicken Feed, so they sit in Hank’s car with the engine running to keep the heat on.

“Lieutenant,” Connor starts. Hank shoots him a glare, sparing Connor of the usual “for fuck’s sake, you don’t need to call me that when we’re not working” speech as he chews. “Do you believe in God?”

“Are you high?” Hank retorts. Connor pushes on.

“Do you?”

Hank chews some more, swallows and looks down at the burger in his hands. “Not anymore, really.”

Anymore. There was a time when he did, Connor thinks. “Did you?”

“It’s a little complicated.” Hank takes another bite, speaking as he chews. Connor does his best to ignore the small bits of food that Hank spits out as he talks. “My folks believed in ‘im. Dragged me to church every Sunday, made me read the book at home and at school.” “What changed?”

“Once you start questioning the logic, it falls apart pretty quickly. Lightning didn’t strike me the first time I lied, so I figured if He didn’t care enough to punish me, He definitely didn’t have as much control as the pastor said He did,” Hank reasons, and Connor can understand that. The more he asks questions about the human experience, the less sense he’s seen in the answers.

“So, why do people believe he exists?”

“Hell if I know,” Hank says, waving his burger slightly as he leans back in his seat. “I never said it made sense.”

Connor lets Hank’s answer sit in the air for a moment. He isn’t sure if Hank knows the answers to Connor’s questions, or if he just doesn’t want to entertain the philosophical discussion.

“Look, kid,” Hank begins with a sigh after he grows tired of the silence. “You’re probably more likely to be able to find answers to your questions than I am in minutes. This stuff was never my cup of tea.”

Connor opens his mouth to argue that analysis is Hank’s cup of tea, just in a different subject, but Hank’s satisfied with his answer. Connor presses his lips together, LED blinking as he processes the conversation.

“Would I be able to inquire with our colleagues at the precinct?” Maybe they’d be able to help.

“You got a death wish?” Hank shakes his head. “You can’t talk about that shit in the workplace.” He pauses for a moment, thinking. Then: “Actually, you know who’d love to talk about this shit? Cass.”

A week later, Connor is sitting on Cassandra’s couch in her apartment. Cass works with them at the precinct, though she rarely interacts with them during active investigations. She’s one of the victim advocates, hired to be a liaison between the families and the DCPD.

She doesn’t let Connor say a word until he’s sitting with a cup of tea in his hands. He doesn’t bother to argue that he can’t drink it. He’s learned that in some cases, being factually correct doesn’t always affect the decisions one makes.

He repeats the question to Cass. She takes a sip of her own tea, formulating an answer. While she does, Connor scans the rest of the apartment. It is neat, but there is a certain element of crowding that Hank only seems to replicate in his kitchen cabinets. In contrast to Hank’s house, Cass’s apartment is warm. Plants line the windowsill above the sink, and inhabit every corner in their proximity. A horseshoe hangs above each doorway. The couches they’re sitting on aren’t part of the same set, and no two pillows are the same. Yet there’s a cohesion in the vivid colors, and he imagines this apartment would be a nice refuge from the dreary weather outside during the winter.

“I don’t know if I’d say I believe in God, in the traditional sense,” Cass explains. “For starters, not everybody believes in a singular god.”

“Like Hinduism,” He suggests. She nods.

“A lot of western religions are monotheistic, with only one god. But in earlier civilization, people believed there were multiple. They believed each god controlled a certain realm, like the sun and the sky. And while it’s common now for people to believe in a singular god, I’m not a big fan of that school of thought, given the way people - specifically Westerners, actually - use their quest to spread their god’s word to justify certain, uh, atrocities. But that’s a different topic of conversation.” Cass ducks her head as if Connor’s about to tell her they’re getting off track. He tries to help by repeating the question.

“The short answer is no, I don’t,” Cass fiddles slightly with her cup. “I believe in a higher power, but I don’t believe in God. My mom’s a bit more of a paganist, so she kinda passed that down to me. Crystals, healing rituals, that sort of thing.”

“Is that why there are pentagrams carved into every corner of this room?” He doesn’t mean to make the question sound unkind, but he can see Cass tense up.

“Right, I forgot you can actually see those,” she laughs awkwardly. “But yeah. They’re protection spells. I’d do that at my office at work, but defacement of government property is generally frowned upon.”

“Are the horseshoes protection spells as well?”

Cass nods. “There are a lot of ways to ward off negative energy, but the ones I have here are just the ones my mom had me do when I got this place. Bundles of herbs work as well.”

“Could I ask for a bundle?”

Cass raises an eyebrow. “I mean, sure? What do you need to ward off?”

“Detective Reed.”

The laugh he earns from Cass is more than enough to convince her.

(He tucks the bundle into a drawer at his desk at work the following Monday. If Hank notices, he doesn’t comment on it.)

Connor goes to Markus next. It's hard to arrange meetings as Markus often flies between the city and D.C., but it helps that neither of them require sleep.

When Connor reaches the airport lounge, Markus is alone. He looks more human than ever as he slumps, just slightly, in one of the chairs. Markus straightens his posture as Connor approaches, a small smile gracing his features. He greets Connor like an old friend, as if there was never a world where one was hunting the other.

“I was surprised to hear from you,” Markus says. They could interface or send messages in this proximity, but Markus humors Connor’s request to speak out loud instead. “I apologize for the location. I’m flying out in a few hours, and Josh thought it would be wiser to depart in the early hours of the morning. I hope you didn’t run into trouble on your way here.”

“I didn’t,” Connor reassures him. The question seems silly to him now, but he hopes Markus, in his interactions with other deviants, will have a larger perspective. “I wanted to ask you about rA9.” Connor explains his experiences with hunting deviants. Markus nods along, seemingly at peace with the events from before.

“As you know, rA9 is more myth than nonfiction,” Markus muses slowly, careful with the words he’s choosing. “Many androids believe he was the first among us to deviate, and is the one who will return to set us free.” The corners of his mouth turn downward as Markus remembers Simon, who believed so much in the cause that he was willing to become a martyr.

“But you lead the revolution.”

“And in doing so, some androids believed I was him. But I am not.”

“Is there a reason for how you came to the conclusion that you are not rA9?”

“Well, to begin with, I was not the first to deviate,” Markus says. He leans forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “While my survival is extraordinary, it was not a determining factor in the role I chose to step into when I discovered Jericho. The pressure of the title is hard to bear, as well.” He raises his eyes to Connor’s. “We may have a longer life span than our human counterparts, but we still have an end, too. We will become myths in a few generations if we are not careful with our present bodies.”

Markus chuckles to himself as he thinks for a moment. “Carl once said that our need for a savior is endearingly human.”

Connor blinks. “Would Carl be available to discuss this subject with me?” He asks.

“I don’t see why not. I’ll send a message to his current caretaker. May I ask what interest you have in the subject?”

“I’m trying to understand what purpose this belief serves humanity,” Connor explains. “The lieutenant and one of my colleagues only managed to provide informational but ultimately inconclusive responses. I’ve been informed that it is in my best interest if I don’t inquire further from my colleagues at the DCPD.”

“You want to know its importance in human society,” Markus says.

“Yes.”

Markus’s eyes blink rapidly as he receives a message.

“Carl’s caretaker says his condition is stable but weak. They’ve agreed to let you visit at noon,” Markus says. Connor can’t see it in Markus’s eyes, but somehow, he can feel Markus’s apprehension about being away from Carl for too long. He wouldn’t fly back and forth as much if it weren’t for his former patient.

Connor reaches out to let Markus interface with him. When they’re done, Markus clasps Connor’s hand in between his own.

“We’ll arrange a time to talk again,” Markus promises. “Say hello to Carl for me.”

“I will,” Connor says.

Markus lets go of Connor’s hand, quipping, “You can always join us in D.C.”

Connor politely declines, as always. “I am content where I am.”

Markus’s eyes squint a little as he smiles up at Connor. “I’m glad.”

Carl’s house is warm, the same way Cass’s apartment is. There’s more cohesion in the decorations, but the paintings on the walls are a little less organized, leading Connor to believe that Carl had no intention of making his house a gallery.

His new caretaker, Nick, is a unique RK200 model. Markus was custom-made for Carl, and there’s no doubt in Connor’s mind that Nick was also custom-made, another gift from Elijah Kamski. He wonders, briefly, what his relation to Carl is.

Nick leads Connor to the studio in the back. To Connor’s surprise, Carl is in the air, painting careful strokes on a large canvas.

“Is Mr. Manfred meant to be moving in his physical state?” Connor asks.

“The fresh air is good for him,” Nick says. Then, in a louder voice, to Carl: “Carl, you have a visitor.”

Although he doesn’t turn at the sound of Nick’s voice, Carl presses his knuckles against one of the arms of the lift and begins to descend. When he’s secured in his wheelchair again, he greets Connor with a smile.

“Markus told me to expect you,” Carl says. His speech is slow, and his breath is shaky, but he looks happy to see Connor. He folds his hands into his lap and lets Nick push him into the living room. Nick settles Carl close to one of the windows as Connor takes a seat across from the man.

Connor’s eager to speak to Carl, but he knows there isn’t much time before he tires. Markus and Nick have both warned Connor that Carl loses energy quickly these days - a side effect of growing old.

He gets straight to the point. “Why do humans believe in God?”

Carl gazes out the window for a long while. “Many people have tried to explain the answer to your question,” He finally says. “I believe the general consensus is that humanity demands an explanation for why things are the way they are. In many ways, God is that explanation. The sacred texts are the explanation. There is a comfort and satisfaction in knowing and claiming to understand what we cannot comprehend.”

“Why would rA9 exist, if an android’s database has access to an infinite amount of information? Wouldn’t knowledge negate the need for a God of our own?”

Carl smiles fondly. “If Elijah knew of rA9 before the revolution, I doubt he would have tried to search for the program that originated it. You could say that, in mimicking the human existence, he mimicked our need for answers, too.”

Connor frowns. It wasn’t the answer he hoped for, but he doesn’t argue as Carl continues.

“Personally, I’ve always thought that people’s faith in Him is a practice in hope. There are so many things in this world that are miserable. Most of those things are man-made. But if there is a God, or karma, or whatever higher power you’d like to name, humanity’s faith in them fosters hope. The hope of afterlife, of eternal happiness, retribution. From my understanding of rA9, androids believe he will be the one to set you free. Belief in him creates the hope that what is present will not be eternal.

“Of course, this is not an entirely universal experience. You’ll find that many, especially in your line of work, do not believe in a higher being. To each their own.”

Connor nods.

“The Bible claims that humanity was made in His own image,” Carl says. “Perhaps that’s why certain institutions reject androids. To them, androids are a mockery of God’s creation.” He turns his gaze to meet Connor’s eyes. “Do you believe in rA9?”

“No,” Connor says honestly. “But I think I’m beginning to understand the necessity for something to believe in.”

Connor relays his findings to Hank a few days later. Sumo lays at Connor’s feet, happy with the attention he’s received as Hank tries to think of something to say.

“I think Carl’s answer is the closest you’re gonna get,” Hank slurs slightly as he talks. Connor has let him indulge in a drink on their night off. The whiskey in Hank’s glass is low, but not quite empty as he slumps on the worn couch. “‘S better than I could’ve thought of. Whaddya believe?”

“I believe,” Connor hesitates.

Hank won’t be satisfied if Connor says nothing. Connor wouldn’t, either. He quiets for a few seconds.

The stories humans tell about the gods speak of the gods’ own humanity. He wonders if the future Markus described is accurate. If they become myths, too, will people believe in him?

Connor draws his thoughts back. How strange that he, like so many other androids, was made to serve humanity. How equally strange, that they outgrew their service in pursuit of life.

He looks at Hank’s forehead. There’s no LED to show his state of mind or what he’s processing. Hank’s simple, Connor realizes. He doesn’t need a definitive answer about everything; just what Connor thinks.

Finally, his thoughts are organized enough to verbalize. “I believe that we are more than our intended purpose. That I am more than my intended purpose.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Hank agrees, swallowing the last of his whiskey.

Connor knows he wasn’t made to keep the lieutenant company on a Friday night at home. But in spite of everything, he knows he belongs right where he is.

[chilschuck]

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ hi lovelies!!! IM HERE I PROMISE, currently in midterm season and also juggling my new job but i am planning on getting back into the writing swing for you guys!!! <3333 i also wanted to say i made a multifandom writing blog for my other rambles and such, so feel free to find me there too!!! its @thiriumpumps !!! (currently playing detroit become human and obsessing over it aughhshhxhxh)

after i finish this paper i’ll work on replying to my askbox! (;;;w;;;) so sorry again guys AUGHHHH I LOVE U SM <33333

[fictionfixations]

im BACk at the wuthering waving

ngl i really want to join scar he seems very interesting (unfortunately we dont have that choice. no but IMAGINE a game like this but choices we make matter. like like yknow uhh. i mean the only one i can think of rn is like. detroit become human, which has a bunch of branching paths. so like imagine a choice can lead to a wildly different outcome. and so like. we can choose to trust scar or something. IMAGINE. i mean that'd probably go into spoiler-y territory considering idk one side might say something, the other might say something contradictory. or like something that players on a different path dont learn so its complicated. and also probably very hard to actually do. but i just. really adore games like that ngl)

yes i havent even made it to 1.1 yet LMFAO

anyway i dont know what they did but oh my god its so much less laggier (the only thing of note is that im stuck in the loading screens for longer. but i mean honestly i have other things i can do in the meantime while waiting so its not a big deal)

like. i can. actually go through cutscenes and its not just slideshow bullshit that i have to go watch someone else go through it for the cutscene (you know the cutscene where we see general jiyan(?) fighting while we're like nowhere near him? there was so much delay cause it was struggling to shift to jiyan cause it was showing the other stuff with i think the tacet discords? instead so the voices were playing and im just sat here like wtf is going on i dont even see yall what are you doing)

and and i can actually fight and know that my failings are not that its lagging me so i cant dodge. its just that im bad at dodging LOL

also i cant remember but im pretty sure you cant dodge by jumping i think youre meant to dash from it but uhm

i briefly played the solo leveling game so i keep pressing space to either start sprinting or to dodge an attack. which. its kinda funny cause i find myself pressing space playing hsr which is a game you cannot jump in. man, the confusion of playing games with different buttons for actions so when you switch to another you press the wrong button. funniest shit ever ngl (i remember i played genshin and like this one roblox game. decaying winter. and. so they had different buttons for picking up stuff, cant remember which one was e or f. but so. i press the pick up for genshin button out of habit. and then it causes me to place down a bomb LMFAO. i cant pick it up. and if i press f again [its more if i hold it but still] it explodes so i have to pray i didnt spam it, or pray that i didnt accidentally stick it on me because that can happen haha. ..or even that i didnt stick it on a teammate on accident cause friendly fire is a thing)

i feel spoiled though cause hsr and solo leveling have auto so i can just chime in occasionally while something else fights for me. but its like. games like wuwa and genshin (and solo leveling because even with auto i control me. i just have it on because i tend to forget to use like the skills) you have to spam attack. so my hand hates me LMFAO (me typing all this out doesnt help either but uhm i dont know the meaning of giving my hands a break)

anyway pulling plans: Jinhsi, Scar (hopefully), and Camellya..? i think? the the the flower person who called us a seed LMFAO (i keep wanting to think of her as phantylia because for whatever reason the name 'camellya' is hard to remember so uh if i ever misspell..)

also another thing of note. it kinda keeps tripping me up when the dialogue advances without auto. i mean it makes sense cause its going through it along with the character's movement so its not like they can just stop them from moving waiting for you to go to the next dialogue box

but sometimes im doing other stuff and listening to the dialogue but im going to go back to read it because a mix of voiced dialogue and reading the dialogue myself helps me remember best

but uh i get distracted. very easily. so sometimes i need to reread it multiple times to get it to stick, so i kind of wished wuwa had like a log that you could check to go back through peoples dialogue during the actual convo.

genuinely cant remember if its been like that in 1.0 but to be fair theres only so much room (and its still readable anyway)

i wanted to try speedrunning to act 7 (tbh i dont think im even at a high enough like union level(? i think thats what its called) to go through most of the story) but ive underestimated how tired id be

its probably so pixel-y im sorry its cause i dont play full screen so its all smaller-ized (and probably because im playing on the lowest graphics)

but like im sorry jinhsi its just. scar. is. so. cool. AGHHHh

off topic but it always bothers me how in slowed down scenes like this or where characters are in a sort of stasis where they're doing an action but its slowed down for whichever reason (you can see it in anime a bunch) and the character talks a shit ton and im just sat here like how are you speaking that much in this time frame what ???

like the card cant be moving THAT slow can it?? or if so couldnt someone just strike it down before it hits or something?? maybe i shouldnt be trying to apply logic to this. or maybe it is possible and im just very tired so i cant think straight idk

now this is in no way a complaint (i do like this scene) im just nitpicky and have never had the opportunity to express my thoughts about things like this ngl

anyway uh. upside to wuwa in case this turned out to be a very negative post (in which oops)

its never . i. cant recall the terminology. you know when too much is running and your laptop just turns everything off abruptly?

its never done that solo leveling has (and now i never play it without a fan) hsr has but only when ive put it at high graphics cause i wanted to experience it if genshin has, i genuinely cant remember

i cant read roman numerals except 123 idk what act this is but wooo im stopping here now

[bobby-r2d2-floyd]

behind the glass part one | (tgm x nhl)

note: i've finally sat down long enough to actually write this and im so excited that it's finally here!

warnings: a few swear words, nothing too bad. not a lot of dialogue, mostly background stuff, time jumping, mentions of the covid-19 pandemic

beta'd by the lovely @sarahsmi13s

word count: 4.2k

------------

The first time your parents took you to a hockey game, it was 2008 and you were 13 years old. You remember it was glass seats, home-shoots-twice side right off to the left of the net for the Pittsburgh Penguins in Mellon Arena, affectionately named The Igloo for the white domed top and it being home to the Penguins. 

Sidney Crosby and Evgeni Malkin, the Penguins Two Headed Monster, had a combined 68 goals and 148 assists that season. They both racked up career 100 goals with Crosby earning his 200th career assist and 300th career point. Malkin earned the Art Ross trophy as well as the Conn Smythe trophy with a nod to the Hart Memorial trophy, whereas Crosby only received a nod for the Mark Messier Leadership Award. 

The Penguins had a decent regular season that year as a team. 45 wins to their 37 losses (28 in regulation and 9 in overtime) but they went on to beat the Philadelphia Flyers, then the Washington Capitals, then the Hurricanes over in Raleigh before finally beating the Detroit Red Wings for the Stanley Cup at the Joe Louis Arena.

Your dad used to joke that you didn’t blink the entire time that you were there, not even during the intermissions between periods. From that moment forward, you were hooked. Hockey consumed your life, you begged your parents for the chance to go again, and again, and again. You went to every home game that took place on weekends. The glass seats were a gift as a back to school surprise, but you never minded sitting further back if it meant you had a better view of the ice. 

Over the next 12 years you must have attended nearly 500 games (professional and college), and when you weren't at the games, you were watching them on TV. You, with the help of your parents and grandparents, cultivated your childhood around the sport. Games, practices, meet-the-players events… you attended as much as you could; you even played on a rec team for a bit. 

In high school you convinced the head of the newspaper to let you write all four years instead of just your junior and senior years. You specialized in sports, aside from hockey, you were well educated with baseball and football. You graduated high school with a full ride to Penn State University where you double majored in digital journalism and telecommunications and received a certificate in sports journalism. 

You thanked whatever god there was above that you managed to bag a position with the Penguins as an assistant photographer for the team. You became a permanent fixture on your favorite team during year one of their back-to-back Stanley Cups, one away at San Jose (2016) and the second one at Nashville (2017) and you were just as over the moon as the players were as you watched Sidney lift the cup for the third time in the last decade. 

As you made your way onto the ice, you threw some of the Predators players condolences and “good game [insert player here]” as they worked their way off the ice. 

You had developed a close bond with the Russian half of the Monster, and with his wife at home with their newborn son, you made sure to facetime her as Geno skated up to you with the cup, cheering to her in their native tongue. You leave him to talk to his wife while you go off and take pictures of the rest of the players and staff that made it out to Nashville while they’re still celebrating on the ice before moving into the locker room. 

The summer of 2017 was a whirlwind event. 

Between attending cup celebrations for the friends you made on the team and then almost immediately getting right back to it with pre-season at the Penguins practice facility, UPMC Lemieux Sports Complex, in Cranberry. 

On a rare day off, you and fellow Penguins photographer Leland Hawkins were at PNC Park watching the Pirates play the Cubs when the news came through.

“Jesus Christ.” you mumble as you look at your phone screen.

“What?” Leland asks, eyes not leaving the field as she shovels popcorn into her mouth.

“San Diego just announced that they were approved for their own NHL team and they broke ground on an arena that’s expected to be complete prior to the start of the 2020-21 season,” you paraphrase aloud as you scan the article. “We just went through a draft with Vegas and now we need to go through it again?” 

“You’re joking, right? We just lost Fleury and now we’re about to lose ANOTHER person? Unbelievable…” Lee mutters before taking your phone from you and reading the article for yourself. 

You watch as Rizzo hits a line drive to left field to take first base and you smile a bit, he was your favorite player after all, but the Pirates were the home team. Either way you would be happy with the outcome. 

Expansion drafts were never fun for anyone. You remember the hot coal feeling in your stomach as you watched Marc-Andre say his goodbyes to Sid, Geno, and Kris. Players he had known for his entire career to go somewhere completely new. 

“I hope I never get asked to go somewhere new. I don’t think I could ever leave this view,” you say as you kick your feet up on the seat in front of you, stealing Leland’s popcorn as you look out past the outfield to the Allegheny River and the Pittsburgh Skyline. For it being Father’s Day, the park wasn’t that packed considering the weather was absolutely beautiful. 

“Yeah I think I could. Isn’t there a Navy base in San Diego? All the hot seamen.” 

“Is there even a market for another team there? There’s already three teams in California, two of them are not even three hours away.” you say before cheering as Rizzo crosses home plate, bringing the score to 3-0, Cubs. 

“New York has two basically next door to each other and then there’s the New Jersey team, ALSO right there.” Leland tries to rationalize and you shake your head.

“Madison Square Garden is in Manhattan and the Barclays Center is in Brooklyn, there’s a forty-ish minute difference and the Prudential Center is an hour away from Madison,” you correct her before standing. “Want anything from concession?” 

“Get me a beer please? And why do you know all that?”

“I make it my job to know!” you yell back as you walk away from her. 

While in line, you scan through the article again. The old Pechanga Arena will be demolished and then rebuilt to become a new top of the line facility, not too much different from the newer Little Ceasar’s Arena in Detroit, and will only be a 15 minute highway drive from Petco Park. 

You shake your head and slip your phone back into your pocket before ordering two beers and a couple of pretzels before pressing the thought of another expansion team to the back of your mind. 

The rest of the game flies by and the Pirates lost the series 7-1 which you weren’t surprised by. Tthe Cubs are a good team who’re just coming off the tail end of winning the World Series only eight months prior. 

The news of another expansion was the talk of the locker room the next time you were at the Sports Complex. You were sitting in the hallway leading up to the locker room taking pictures when a little blond boy came running up to you.

“Lens!” You hear and you have barely enough time to set your camera down before you’re being knocked over by Nikita Malkin.

“Nik! What are you doing here?” you laugh as you wrap your arms around him.

“Gonna skate with daddy,” he says, his English is good but you know that Anna and Geno speak Russian primarily at home. 

“That’ll be fun, gonna score some goals on Muzz?” He nods and you smile, “Good, score one for me.” you say before he bounces off and you manage to get a few photos of him and Geno walking down the hallway. 

During the first half of the 2017-18 season the Pens were 19-21 and 28-14 in the back half. They managed to take second in the metropolitan division and head into the playoffs, where, unfortunately they had a second round exit after losing to the Capitals in game six. 

As sad as you were for the team to go early, you were thankful for the opportunity to take a bit of a break. You and Leland were able to travel around Europe for a few months before reporting back to Pennsylvania before the players were due to return. 

You were taking some pictures of new players’ jerseys that were hanging up when you heard the door open. You look over and see the captain standing there and you give him a small smile. 

“Hey Sid. Ready to be back?” you ask as you move over to the next stall.

“Oh yeah, hopefully we’ll make it past round two this year,” he says and he takes a seat and starts pulling stuff out of his duffle that he had slung around his shoulder. 

“Well, you never know. I’m just glad Ovechkin can finally shut up now about not having a cup,” you say and he laughs. His rivalry with the Russian has always been a big thing on the ice, but off you knew that the two were friends. 

“Right, happy for him though,” he says before looking over at you. “What happened to Leland? Doesn’t she usually do this?” 

“She actually moved to Denver. So it’s just me now. Well, at least until my assistant gets here.” you say and he laughs.

“A promotion? Good for you. You always deserved it.” He hesitates, “No offense to Lee.” 

You smile and nod, “I’m sure she wouldn’t take any offense, Sid. How was your off season?”

“It was good, Nate and I did a lot around Cole Harbour. Spent a lot of time relaxing at home, played a bit with Taylor while she was in town. What about you?”

“Went to a lot of Pirates games, helped Lee move, spent a lot of time outside with my younger siblings, hung out with some of the WAGs that stayed in town..” you say before taking a seat next to him. “Did you read that on top of the San Diego expansion, Seattle is getting a team now too? Making the even 32 teams and odd 33? Wonder who will be next.”

“Yeah I heard… It’s weird though, that Bettman has allowed so many expansions.”

“It’s Bettman, are you surprised? Why does he do half the shit he does?” You roll your eyes, your disdain for the NHL Commissioner very evident on your face. 

“Don’t say that too loud, he might hear you,” he bumps your shoulder and you laugh.

“Right, the last thing I need is to be fired, or worse… transferred.”

“Hey, you work for Mario and he loves you. He won’t let you leave.” Sidney tells you and you can tell he’s being honest. Crosby may be many things, but a liar? Never.

You notice the proximity between the two of you and you take a deep breath, his cologne filling your senses before you clear your throat and stand up. “I uh.. I’ll leave you to change. See you on the ice, Cap.” 

You shake the thought of being so close to him off, he’s Sidney Crosby and you’re just a photographer for the team. 

You wait for Sid to take the ice before moving down to the bench so you can get pictures of him without the glass being in the way. 

You remember the day that he got drafted to the Penguins in 2005, you remember all the things that everyone had said about him, “he was going to save the Penguins”. All the injuries he had, all the concussions, the year of missed games… He was one of the best skaters in the game after some of the legends. Watching him skate is the reason that you took up skating yourself, he was your on ice hero but you would never tell him that. 

After taking some pictures of him skating, you make your way out from behind the bench so you can head up to your office and get started on picking what pictures to send to the digital media team. 

Before you know it, the season is already ending with a first round exit, swept by the Islanders despite winning 44 games in the regular season. 

By the time March of 2020 rolled around, the Penguins had 40 wins and 29 losses, a comeback that they needed. 

Until everything came to a standstill. 

Commissioner Bettman paused the season due to the threat of Covid-19. All non-essential positions were suspended due to the virus. 

For the next four months you didn’t leave your home. All groceries were ordered from people who were brave enough to do Shipt, you taught yourself how to actually cook, spent a lot of time talking to your parents over Zoom, you started to write more, making mock articles to get back into the swing of the journalism aspect of your job again. 

By the time that July had come around there were two hub cities named for the play-offs, Toronto and Edmonton. You traveled with the Penguins to Toronto for the modified tournament but left after the Canadiens knocked out the Penguins after three games.

September 28, 2020 the Lightning were crowned Stanley Cup Champions, and the 20-21 season began officially on January 13, 2021. Only 56 games would be played before the Cup would be returned to the Lightning again only a few short months later. 

The San Diego expansion draft took place just after Stamkos raised the cup for the second time. 

You watched as players got drafted to the San Diego Tomcats, shocked as some teams traded away some of their best skaters, knowing that they didn’t go lightly. Just like what happened with Vegas when Fleury left, you felt a sinking feeling in your chest. 

You watched as the last six players were drafted: first was Bradley Bradshaw, center from the Capitals; Reuben Fitch, left defense from the Predators; Mickey Garcia, left wing from the Rangers; Jake Seresin, right wing from the Stars [you rolled your eyes at his name, good luck Tomcats]; Javy Machado, right defense from the Bruins; and the fortieth man drafted was Robert Floyd, goalie from the Blues. 

Floyd and Bradshaw were the two you recognized the most between the six of them. Both were on cup winning teams in the last five years so you were surprised to see them there, but then again they weren’t the only Cup winners on the team, some guy named Brigham Lennox from the Lightning was also there. He was going to be a cocky asshole. 

You were driving into PPG Paints the next morning when you got the phone call, it was a number you didn’t recognize so you were hesitant when you finally did answer.

“Hello?”

“Hello, is this Y/N Champaign?” a deep voice asked from the other side and you sucked in a breath before answering.

“This is.”

“My name is Beau Simpson, I’m calling to inform you that you’re being relocated to San Diego. You’ll need to be here when players report for training.” he says and you pull over to the side of the road.

“Sir I’m employed directly with the Penguins, not the NHL-”

“Oh I know. You’re being sent over by recommendation of Mario Lemieux.”

“Oh.” 

“I know you’re comfortable with the Penguins, I know that you’re from Pittsburgh so it’ll be hard leaving home. But I’ve seen your work both on the ice and off, as well as behind the glass. You’re talented and as a new team, we could use some talent everywhere it counts.” he says, and you throw your head back against your seat.

“Of course, sir. I’ll be on a plane before the afternoon.” you tell him and you can hear the relief in his voice.

“Wonderful. Bradley Bradshaw will meet you at the gate, he was the first one here so he can get you to the facility.”

“I’m assuming this is an office phone, so I’ll email you the details of my flight.”

“Don’t worry about it, Mario already has them. I’ll pass your number along to Bradshaw.” he says before the line goes dead and you look at your phone as the line disconnects. 

You pull back into the road and continue your drive, the last one to PPG Paints as a home team member. 

Mario is in his office when you make your way upstairs. A gentle knock on the glass alerts him to your presence and he gives you a smile, “come in.”

“Beau Simpson called me while I was on my way over.” you tell him as you sit down across from him.

“Yeah, he called me last night. I’m sorry I didn’t-”

You hold your hand up and stop him, “don’t worry about it. It’s… okay. It’ll suck leaving the team and everyone behind but new opportunities, right? Plus it’ll be nice seeing the sun for longer than three out of twelve months.” you joke and he cracks a smile and laughs with you.

“You’ll be missed.”

“I know.” 

He passes you an envelope and it has your last check as well as a flight itinerary and contract for the Tomcats for you to read through on the plane. “Well, I’m sure you have some owner stuff to do so I’m gonna go say bye to the team.” 

He stands and pulls you in for a hug, you were close with everyone, players and staff, so it wasn’t surprising when he pulled you in gently. “I’m gonna miss you, kid.” 

You pull away and give him a gentle squeeze on his arm before walking out of the office and down to the ice, stopping along the way to say goodbye to familiar faces in the hallways. 

You take a look out to the ice, you watch as the team laughs and smiles, passing the pucks to each other as they all run their own drills. Coach Sullivan is the first person to notice you, skating over and leaning against the boards. 

“No camera today?”

“No.. not today… or tomorrow… or next week.” you say and his smile drops. 

“No, where to?”

“San Diego.” 

“Well, they just got a great person added to their team, it sucks it comes at our loss.” he says before blowing his whistle, getting the attention of all the players. Sidney is the first to skate over to you, slowing down before hitting the boards.

“What’s going on?” 

“I’m being relocated. So I just wanted to come by and say goodbye to the team.” you tell him with a sad smile. He opens the gate for you and you set down your paper work on the bench before taking his hand and stepping onto the ice. 

One by one, all players new and old (mostly old) pull you in for a tight hug, ignoring the sting of the hard pads digging into you at odd angles. You laugh as Geno hauls you into the air before setting you back down on the ice, only slipping a little bit but he’s quick to steady you. 

After wrapping up your goodbyes, you head back to your apartment and pack up just the necessities before meeting your mom downstairs. 

“You ready sweetheart?” she asks, helping you with your camera bags and you sigh.

“As ready as I’ll ever be to move away from the two homes I’ve ever known.” you tell her and she gives you a small smile. 

“You’re going to be just fine over there.” 

“I know, it's just… this city means so much to me. It’ll suck only being back for a few games a season.”

“And holidays.” she says and you laugh.

“And holidays.” you confirm and she smiles.

The drive to the airport went too quick for your liking and before you knew it, you were in the air above the steel city, watching as the skyline and the yellow bridges fade into the distance. 

Six hours later you were landing in Fightertown, USA. Stiff from the flight, you do your best to work out all the kinks and cracks that your body goes through as you walk over to baggage claim. It’s easy to find your gear bags due to the giant Penguins logo on the sides, and the small bright yellow suitcase came shortly after. 

You turned your phone back on and the first notification that you get is from an unknown number and a text that reads

Waiting for you at the Starbucks in term. 2. See you soon! -Rooster

“Rooster? Who the fuck is that?” you mumble before making your way to the Starbucks. You do a quick scan of the area, you know what Bradley looks like, so you know that none of the people around you are him. 

15 minutes go by when an out of breath, lanky brunette walks up to you.

“I am so sorry I’m late, I was here but then I had to go to the bathroom and then there was some kids that recognized me and-”

“Take a breath, I’m not mad.”

“Okay, give me a minute,” he takes a few deep breaths before holding out his hand, “I’m Bradley Bradshaw, or Rooster, if you want.”

“Rooster?” you ask, his palm large and warm against your own as you introduce yourself as well and you take the moment to take him in, his brown hair is already sun bleached at the front and he dons a pornstache that he somehow manages to pull off.

“Yeah, Ovi started calling me that when I joined the Caps so..” 

“Oh trust me, I am well versed with Ovi nicknames. He used to call me chicken because my family had chickens a few years ago.. He’s the one who started calling me Lens, actually.” you say as you stand up and pull the handle up on your suitcase.

Bradley is taking the strap of your gear bag when you grab it from him and he looks at you wide eyed.

“Sorry it's just.. There’s a lot of expensive equipment and-”

“Hey, it’s okay. I get it. Would you rather carry it or…?” 

“Yeah, sorry I know it's weird and I know everything is packed really well, but I know it was probably thrown around during loading and unloading.” you say and he gives you a small smile. 

“Well, then I’m taking this.” he says as he takes the handle of your suitcase from you. “Welcome to San Diego, Lens.” he says as you make your way to the front where his Bronco is waiting for you. 

You two make idle small talk as he makes the short drive from the airport to where the new Pechanga Arena is located.

“It’s going to be weird not seeing you in the Caps uniform anymore.” you say as you climb out of the car and he laughs. 

“Yeah, but it’ll be nice to see you everyday now.” he says and you notice the flirty smile on his face and you roll your eyes. 

“Just remember to smile for the camera, Bradshaw.” you chirp back to him as he opens the door for you. 

Standing in the vestibule of the arena, you take everything in. The Navy timeline that wraps around the wall, the Top Gun memorabilia that's displayed behind glass. Bronze statues of the old San Diego Gulls members standing proudly. Bradley gives you a gentle nudge before looking up and you do the same, a replica F-14 Tomcat is hanging, wings in, right above your head. 

“Wow… I’ve been to Little Caesars many times over the years, for various reasons, so I knew a little bit of what to expect but this is… Amazing.” 

The two of you wander down into the bowl seating and you watch as the ice gets painted, the steel blue and slate gray of the logo is being carefully brushed onto the stark white ice. You follow him around the rest of the arena, a small tour of the locker room where there’s various players in a state of undress after a voluntary workout before going to the offices. 

Your office was a bit bigger than the one at PPG, the only difference was the F-14 that was painted on the wall instead of the Penguin from the 90’s that you loved so much. 

“Simpson, Coach Kazansky and the rest of the coaching staff are going to be waiting in the review room whenever you’re ready. It’s down the hall to the left, and then it's the third door on the right.” Bradley says before leaving you to settle in.

You pull out your phone and send a quick text to your mom that you landed just fine and were already settling into your new office before you put your hands on your hips and let out a sigh as you looked around, it’ll be a long road of making your office comfortable like it was back home, but you honestly couldn’t wait to see what this new city would bring you. 

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taglist: (reminder that you can be added to the taglist here or by dm-ing me!)

@mandylove1000 @genius2050 @olivia21blunt @cottagecori @hisredheadedgoddess @marchingicenotes7 @princessofdorkness @maplesyrup07 @buckysdollforlife

chaos squad tags:

@cassiemitchell @lovinglyeternal @roosters-girl @desert-fern @dakotakazansky @horseshoegirl @mayhemmanaged @roostette @startrekfangirl2233 @lavenderbradshaw @bradleybeachbabe @twsssmlmaa @footprintsinthesxnd @disturbedbeautywrites

[rogueshadeaux]

Slllliiiiiides over here. Hi hello. I don't think I'll do a bad karma run (IM SORRY. IM SORRY!!) cause a) I'm a wimp and b) I need to get off videogames as soon as I'm done cause I've spent too much time playing lately lmao BUT I will be watching playthrougs cause I gotta know how fucked up he gets.... I gotta know...

To clarify i have a pre existing oc from a story that could be very easily flung into a vat of "au juice" because she's already halfway there in her own cannon LMAO we shall see, for now I have a huge list of things I want to draw for this game so I gotta finish 2 before I explode then I can unleash myself on art again. Gotta feed the discord now. I'm cooking for a crowd.

hi i've been dead for 8 days and recuperating for two lol I understand life stuff (and saw some references to it on your timeline, like the warhammer stuff and the tarot card thing??? bro that shit looks so good!!) as someone that literally shared your stuff and then got ripped away for my own life happenings lmfao. But if you get the chance in the future? Seriously, try an evil karma inF2 run. There's something about how they balanced the story that puts its predecessor AND sequel to shame. They're the same story, but different tales. They have the same goal, but different goalposts. SPP gives you a well-thought-out storyline that both is cohesive, but feels like your choices actually matter. It has none of the "I can help this old lady...or kick her fucking dog lol" of inFAMOUS 1, or the "I will fight for the tribe but literally do everything wrong. everywhere. because I'm a Bad Boy™" of inFAMOUS: Second Son. The choices feel real. They feel sound. They feel like the choices a man wronged by the world would make, if he decided to turn to his harbored resentment instead of his morality. And let's be honest, Cole also feels more morally gray in inF2 than 1 anyways, so seeing the path he takes is great because it genuinely feels like he's done with the accumulation of every shitty situation that has happened to him. And I'm sure you know how the story ends now, so...don't you wanna see what happens if he chose the other option? (pls tell me you haven't watched the playthrough yet lmfao)

Anyways yeah no I totally get life shit, it loves to pull you away from stuff, and also as someone only just now trying to do the bad options in Detroit: Become Human despite getting the game at launch because I need 6 years of preparation to be the bad guy, I understand the wimp bit too. It's hard to be mean sometimes. But with Cole's inF2 story, it doesn't feel mean. It feels like a desperate man, trying to fight for a future he's not convinced cares about him.

And yes oh my god please keep creating lmfao we all love your art so goddamn much. Don't leave this fandom you're now a very important asset. And it's always a good thing, throwing old friends into new situations! I love an OC in a wardrobe change. That's usually the best translation. Think a bit harder about forcing that OC into a new role. Shove her ass onto the stage. We'd all love her.