#it gets worse by mindless self indulgence is also really great

[neverendingford]

.

[jamisonwritestf2trash]

Hello! I like your TF2 headcannons alot, what kind of song's do you think they would listen to? I have no idea if this has been asked or if there are canon answers, but I'd really like your take on it if ever! <33

What's Songs Do The TF2 Mercs Like?

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LOVE THIS. Thank you for your ask! This hasn't been requested yet, so I'm so excited to write it. I'm not sure if there's canon music taste and favorite songs either, but we can just ignore the Canon lmao. Also, mutual appreciation! Thanks for being a mutual 💖

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Also, it's totally not based on songs I've listened to or like, not at all. Completely unbiased. I'm going to give their top 3 favorite songs and why those are the top 3! I hope you like this, and I didn't go too far of the original ask 😭

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Demo -

1. Escape (The Piña Colada Song) Rupert Holmes. They find it funny in an endearing way. He likes the idea of love fading only to reconnect. (Does he choose to ignore the fact that they were both trying to cheat)

2. First - Cold World Kids. The second he heard this song, it hit him like a ton of bricks. He just thinks about every relationship he's lost and how unfairly he must have treated people and just ugh.

3. Problems - Mother Mother. He feels like a disgrace to people he cares about and people he loves. He listens to this music to make himself feel worse, but don't worry the other mercs always try and turn him to cheerful music when he's like that, but sometimes he genuinely likes Problems and First just from a liking music perspective.

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Engie -

1. 9 to 5 - Dolly Parton. Engie is the number one Dolly Parton fan. He's head of the fan club. Speak ill of her, and you'll never speak again. He can also just relate so well with a girl boss, because he is a girl boss.

2. Black Betty - Ram Jam. He loves uptempo songs to work to. He finds he works faster with them. I just think he thinks this song is so great for work.

3. Save a Horse (Ride a Cowboy) - Big & Rich. This man. I wanted to be a cowboy so badly growing up! Let's him feel like a cowboy and just a fun song that he really likes playing. (For a while, he didn't know what the implications were. It was super fun when the other mercs caught him singing it and then having the meaning explained to him.)

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Heavy -

1. You're My Best Friend - Queen. He wants to be everyone's friend so bad! He wants someone to listen to this song and think of him. He just wants to be a good friend above all else. (He is! He just doesn't think so.)

2. Count On Me - Bruno Mars. Much like above, he wants to be a friend. He wants to be seen as dependable and caring. Scared he doesn't come off that way!

3. I'm Still Standing - Elton John. Resilient fighting, man! This is his hype song. It especially helps him after a bad match. It helps him remember that he does a lot to help carry the team and he shouldn't be so hard on himself.

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Medic -

1. Body - Mother Mother.

I never really touched on this in my previous headcanons but I think Medic also has some body dysmorphia. It's just not as bad as spys. I also think this man has vivid intrusive thoughts. I feel like this song for him is most of the things he thinks about put into words he doesn't have.

2. Are You Satisfied - MARINA. This. Man. Has. Never. Felt. Good. Enough. He's always set his own expectations of what he should be so high that he can never do anything but fall short. He also feels a lot of pressure from the other mercs and is always scared of disappointing them. He loves to hear someone else sing of the feelings he has.

3. The Dismemberment Song - Blue Kid. I had to throw this in. It was either of this or The Red Means I Love You. He loves both. He thinks their really good inspiration songs to go into surgery humming. Be afraid if this man comes at you while this tune is playing.

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Scout -

1. Get It Up -Mindless Self Indulgence. I don't know why but this song just feels like Scout is singing it. Like I genuinely think that he fucking wrote this song 😭 Likes the beat and the way the singer sounds more than the lyrics themselves.

2. Everywhere I Go - Hollywood Undead. See above. No, but genuinely he loves this song. Gives him such confidence for no reason. Makes him feel so cool. I do think he hasnt done anything like this. Yeah, he drinks,but he's never acted like the song. He just lives vicariously through it. Likes the lyrics more than the song in this case.

3. Without Me - Eminem. He wanted to be Eminem so bad! He wanted to be that controversial white boy who could rap. I think all of his favorite songs are just any white man's favorite song ever. He actually does good rapping the song without lyrics. You'd think it be embarrassing but it's actually not, somehow.

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Sniper -

1. Read Between The Lines - Tom Cardy. Come on, how is he not supposed to love this song. It fits him so perfectly. I definitely feel like he loves this song because he always feels like people should know how to understand him even though he isn't giving them anything to work with.

2. Ballroom Blitz - Sweet. He likes the beat and tempo of this song more than anything. He also likes the entire vibe of the song if that makes sense. He can also imagine "being the man in the back," an imaginary scenario king if you will.

3. Another One Bites The Dust - Queen. Took all my restraint not to make every song a Queen song. Had to keep reminding myself I could make a post for that on its own lmao. No one can convince me that this song doesn't play in his head when he gets a good kill. One time, just for fun, he tried to sync with the claps and was super successful.

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Spy -

1. Money, Money, Money - ABBA. I know this man is like probably 50 or something and has a son and whatever, but sometimes I forget that and think he's a 30 year old classy woman from the 1920s. So, in my mind, he likes ABBA. Likes Money, Money, Money though because he likes the idea of a rags to riches heist plot (that's what I imagine when I hear this song anyway)

2. Royals- Lorde. This man wants to be royalty so bad. He tries to be so classy and dignified, which is funny because you'd think he'd want to be as mundane as possible, but that's neither here nor there. I definitely feel like this song just makes him feel fancy.

3. Vous Le Voulez - ABBA. Yes, I did hc Spy as having two ABBA songs in his top three. No, I will not apologize. This man has definitely killed this song. And! He also dance fought to this song. (Think that one scene in Jumanji, the one with the Rock.)

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Soilder -

1. Party in The U.S.A - Miley Cyrus. I mean, can you really blame me for adding this one? I already added it to shitpost canon!

2. Cherry Pie - Warrant. Dad song! This is such a dad song, just like he's such a dad! This man just reminds me of any middle-aged white dad who grills and drinks beer. And I get that so much when I hear this song. So I'd think he'd like a dad song:)

3. Dragula- Rob Zombie. THIS MAN CAN YELL. He loves to sing (scream?) this song! It's a good song to start with, and the fact that he can have a fun time yelling and singing makes him happy!

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Pyro -

1. drop pop candy - reol, giga. I have this headcanon I never touched on for some reason. Pyro knows every human language that exists. So they love listening to music in other languages!They actually really like how sweet the music sounds in contrast to the actual lyrics.

2. My Axe - Insane Clown Posse. PYRO. IS. A. JUGGALO. 100%! You can't convince me that they haven't painted their mask to look like juggalo fave paint. Definitely would play this song in their head during a match. They just replace axe with fire or something similar.

3. Buttercup - Jack Stauber. They like most of Jack Staubers' music! They really like the different soft sounds and low tone music.

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Okay. I'm posting this hoping everything works! I've had to start this over 5 times and I am exhausted 😭

I loved this prompt, but I swear to god I got such back writers block halfway through just finding the songs they'd like. I'm really sorry if this turned out to be bad. I'm going to go sleep for the years.

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Soldier headcanons tomorrow!

[creepywrites]

Nina the killer

Warning: death, physical and mental abuse

Nina and her family were attacked when on a camping trip, her parents and Chris were killed, Nina woke up to all the noise and saw Jeff, he coerced Nina and carved a smile into her cheeks.

Nina admired Jeff by the ages of 17–19, she looked up to him because he was able to escape from his horrible life.

As a child, Nina always had an active imagination, she'd often draw and scrapbook her ideas. She had a anime inspired style.

She's been into emo and scene for a few years, she discovered it when she was 11 and fell in love and has started wearing some sort of emo or scene accessories, but has changed to a punk style.

Her favourite movie as a kid was Pretty Little Liars and Twilight.

She didn't like her parents, they never showed any interest and they didn't let her be herself. Nina rebelled against them a lot because of this, and just did a lot of things to annoy them, though she never wanted them or Christ, dead. She celebrates Día de los Muertos in their memory.

Her favourite bands are mindless self indulgence, Blood On the Dance Floor and Get Scared.

She loved true crime, she'd listen to podcasts to help her study or something to listen to when she's going for a walk.

She'd draw a lot of the killers in the podcasts.

Now she stays away from most mentions of killers.

Because she had no friends a teacher setup a penpal to try and help her. Nina met Sully from it, she eventually met up with him and became acquaintances, she latched on quick and became great friends.

Nina killed him while with Jeff, she tried to reconnect with him after meeting again, but he wanted nothing to do with her.

She had a fantasied version of Jeff in her head, that he only killed horrible people and that she was safe.

After officially meeting his victims, she was conflicted, Nina was fed a lot of lies or exaggerated things about them, so when she actually met them and it wasn't all true, she was slightly questioning herself, she assumed they were tricking her and was too afraid to leave Jeff and go with a bunch of strangers, she declined Liu and went back.

Nina endured it all, she'd get the silent treatment if she didn't do want he wanted, when in a argument he'd call her all sorts of illnesses, he wished she bled out that day he attacked her, it's also how she found out he killed her family, constant belittling, and he never laid a hand on her before this, and never thought of it as abuse but pettiness instead and had such little self esteem to care.

It only clicked when he laid hands on her for the first time, she was 20 when she started planning an escape.

Jane Arkansaw was one of the few to understand her situation and take Nina under her wing.

She eventually distances herself from them except for Jane, at 25 and becomes a mercenary, Nina taught herself how to use multiple different guns, she still cannot stand the sight of blood but at 27 has gotten a lot more used to it.

She got bullied a lot, it got even worse in high school, sometimes she'd even get followed home. Because of this and on top of being easily manipulated, she never had any real life friends that lasted, though she had quite a few online friends.

This is what made running off with Jeff so appealing, she believed he was going to let her be free, do whatever she wanted with no judgment.

Her favourite anime was Dragon Ball Z.

She collected a few monster high dolls, she would never get them out of the boxes, and her favourite was Draculaura, that was the only doll she got out of the box.

She hid most of them in a drawer, because her parents thought she was to old for them, so she told them that she had gotten rid of them.

she loves fashion and trying to customise her own clothes. She had patch skirts and tie-dye shirts.

Nina's really good at dying hair, whether it be hers or wigs she collects.

She used to dye it all the time but had to compromise to a few strands because of how damaged her hair was getting.

She used to drink a lot of energy drinks, pacific punch was her favourite.

She was very active on social media, she'd vent about her life and tried getting friends. She had 1k followers.

Nina was a very squeamish person, she thought she'd be a great killer, ridding the world of evil, but hated the sight and smell of the aftermath, always gagging afterwards.

She always pushed on for Jeff approval and the world.

She really likes Jane Arkansaw as a friend, she sees her as the perfect amount of authority that counteracts to her crazy. Nina sees jane as a big sister of sorts and often comes to her for advice and to confide in.

She doesn't visit Toby's or her families grave, she can't bare to see them like that.

She writes in a journal a lot, she always has, sometimes she'll get distracted and start drawing little doodles of people or random animals.

She's fluent in Spanish and English, she was learning Japanese at one point, but she was no where near fluent.

She's very insecure about her looks, and hates looking in the mirror because all she's reminded of is Jeff, and she hates it.

She never had many goals for what she wanted to do with herself for when she gets older.

Sometimes she'd think about being a hairdresser or nail tech, but none of it was set in stone.

She got in trouble a lot in school, and would get suspended often.

She tried to kill everyone she knew in her school when they were at a party, she killed 8 of them and injured 6.

When she was younger she had unrestricted internet access, and learned how to do basic things, but also saw a lot she shouldn't have, whether it be slightly disturbing images or straight up gore, which is also why she thought she could handle it in person.

She romanticised mental illness a lot when she was young.

She loves to do small graffiti, she'll draw regular skulls or sugar skulls, flowers and hello kitty heads.

She used to write so much fan fiction about her favourite characters.

She also likes to write poems, most of them are about her life and what she's feeling in the moment.

She loves reading comic books, her favourite one is Something is Killing the Children.

She doesn't play games much, but when she does she'd usually play Pokémon or The Sims.

She believed it was her destiny to become a killer, she always felt something was missing in her life, and Nina believed it was this.

She has frequent nightmares of her family, they never have a concrete image, sometimes they'll be very grotesque, or sometimes barely injured or even alive.

She currently lives in an apartment, she's saving up for a house.

She used to re-carve the smile in her cheeks, but after leaving, she's starting letting it heal over, but hates the look of the scar. Sometimes she'll get an urge to redo it.

Nina fidgets a lot.

She's thought about running away from home before, she had some of her clothes and essentials packed in case Nina and her parents had a really big argument. She'd usually leave for a day and stay at a hotel or stay out when she was low on cash, and then come back home. She never left for much longer than that.

She had gotten into makeup at a young age, and is really good at it.

She's stopped dying a pink streak in her hair, not only did she want to switch it up, she also wanted one of the few reminders of who she used to be gone, now it's bigger, red strands.

Christ is always following Nina around, tormenting her in small ways, hiding important items, making things move in the corner of the room, ect.

He was fine with her until she became a mercenary.

[lupically]

#FEF5F1 | DILUC RAGNVINDR.

genre | fluff

word count | 1825

warning | none

note | i finally wrote something for my top husbando :’)

it came to you as a surprise that diluc, at all, sleeps.

there has always been this fantasy version of him in your head, a fantasy that lacked the great ideals and bright adventures most fantasy novels you have read consisted of. in contrast, your fantasy of him was insulting and otherworldly at best—someone restricted to the rules, a personality as plain as a dull purple doormat, a total stick in the mud that kills joy at the mere sight of it, an emotionless robot that has no use for human necessity such as the bathing and sleeping.

does diluc even need to consume food? you have literally never seen him eat or drink anything before. has he ever taken off his gloves to pick up a hamburger—oh, archons, you just realized now that you have never seen the skin of his hands before. he always has gloves on! was it to hide something?

"oh, wow," you exclaimed lowly to yourself as you leaned forward to examine the hands of the very annoyed red-haired man before you. your long-term question was finally answered. "fascinating... so you do have hands!"

diluc spared not even a glance toward the limb you were so interestedly staring at. he kept quiet for a moment and peered down at you from his bed, one leg propped up and the other stretched out—a rather awkward position he had no time to get out of after he almost burned you alive for sneaking into his bedroom in the winery.

"what drunk wind blew your incompetent self here?" he asked, ignoring your remarks about his lack of real and human hands. whatever you meant by that? you were always spilling weird things out of your mouth, you might even be worse than venti, he reckoned. 

you glared up at him after hearing his mindless insult. you were only fifty percent sure (which was already a lot in your book!) diluc never actually meant those hurtful words, that they simply fly out of his mouth due to his weird need to make sure everyone around him knew that he leaves no room for unnecessary sentiment. 

being kind blatantly was not his thing, and he has no intention of being applauded for being a decent person. why that was, you couldn't be sure. you had your assumptions, but kaeya turned out far too different than diluc that you weren’t sure if you should put your finger on the assumption. you also didn't dare dive deeper into it because (a) you just weren’t invested enough, and (b) by then, it would be a family business you would hate to indulge yourself with.

"kaeya dared me to take a picture of your sleeping face in exchange for some wine. our good friend, the honorary knight's smaller friend also wanted it as a possible blackmail souvenir," you told him honestly.

diluc immediately murmured something you couldn't quite hear, but he looked more confused than annoyed when he glared down at the mattress of his bed. he grumbled something along the lines of how the roles were definitely reversed. you didn't press further about that.

"if that is what you came here for, your best bet is to leave the way you came," he said after a moment, pointing a cold hand toward his bedroom window. "you're not taking any pictures of me."

you snorted, holding up your kamera and tapping the lenses. “uh, i think i came pretty close to taking a picture of you sleeping, diluc.”

“i had woken up the second you walked through my bedroom door. you could never,” he said.

you hummed under your breath, eyeing him suspiciously. he was probably telling the truth. he barely struggled in surprise when he grabbed your hands in the dark; was it pure luck that he perfectly found where your kamera was on the first try or does diluc secretly has night vision? your guess was as good as the unknown. 

not to mention, he looked normal, just like someone who may be in the know of your intrusion. he appeared grumpy but that was just his normal state. you could barely get him out of a frown even if you pay him, mainly because he wouldn’t need your money, but also because he was stubbornly against smiling, it appeared. 

"you know, i was surprised at first. i didn't know you sleep at all! i always thought you kind of just shut down, or maybe you have stayed awake all your life," you said with a shrug, and when he deadpanned at you, you defensively waved your kamera around. "i'm sorry! i just–you don't strike me as a person who sleeps!"

"so dead, then?" diluc asked calmly, although there was very little calmness in his facial expressions, especially those judgemental eyes of his.

"not dead! just... not really human–" you paused and pressed your lips together, thinking back to what you said to him and realizing that he might have a point. then you turned to him. "you also eat, right?"

“are you leaving or not?” he asked, a hint of flare in his voice that if you looked closely, you may see fire emerging from his body.

being stubborn as ever, and knowing that diluc would never really hurt anybody he knew to be good people, you feigned thoughtfulness for a second. tapping your finger against your chin, you scrunched your nose and shook your head. setting the kamera lumine forcefully had to borrow you between your crossed legs, you flashed him a mischievous grin. 

“no,” you said. “i am getting that picture out of you!”

“like i said,” he said, “you will never.”

“fine! then i guess i will just have to sit here and wait for you to fall asleep on me,” you said, slapping your hand down on his soft mattress. “don’t try to force me out of here! i will make it way worse for you!”

diluc furrowed his brows, wondering if you meant what you said. when his questioning gaze couldn’t get even an ounce of budge from you, he could only sigh in frustration. if you planned to sit on his bed until he doze off, then you would definitely make it worse if he tries to dump you out of his bedroom through whatever means you could.

he may be a skilled swordsman and a vision bearer, but unfortunately, he was not immune to bullshits from the likes of you.

diluc closed his eyes to savor the tiniest bit of sleep he managed to get before he heard your extra loud footsteps creeping around his room. he was supposed to get a good night's sleep, which was something he hasn't had in a while because of all the business schedules and his side vigilante job.

he was supposed to rest tonight, and there came you.

there always comes you.

dilly-dally, unpredictable, the epitomie of 'knights of favonius... always so inefficient,' letting klee out of solitary confinement and causing a ruckus amongst the responsible adults kind of irresponsible, has paid for his wine at least a zero number of time kind of broke, and was just always here to ruin his mood at the tavern every single day. 

most of the time, diluc thought about you in a negative light, much like he did with everyone around him and the entirety of the knights of favonius. but there was a version of you in his head that painted you as somebody different—somebody respectful, somebody worth keeping around...

somebody he likes, perhaps.

after all, joy was never prevalent in his life. it used to be, but that was a past he has long forgotten the details of. even if he wanted to remember them now, he could only remember snippets that wouldn’t guarantee him a good nostalgia. he may just end up feeling worse at the end. the only constant influx of distraction he has now seemed to be either you or venti, and with the godly bard as his other option, he would much rather choose you. 

but it was not because that venti was too hard to confine in. you were just as hard to talk about problems with considering your optimism and fickle attitude. 

what diluc wanted was permanence; a train that never stops, a bottle of wine that continuously refills, dandelions that do not stop flying even after it reaches celestia. and venti was too understanding and abstract to be one. as interesting of a character he may be, venti knew when to leave people alone. or, occasionally, he just cared too little. after all the city of mondstadt didn’t lack a god because he was responsible. 

you, though. diluc could never pinpoint if you were as dense as you appeared to be, or if you did know how to read the room and simply chose to ignore it, but you never leave people alone. you never left him alone; you unknowingly pick a petty one-sided argument with him all the time, you get drunk at the tavern and somehow has never let anybody take you home but him, you barge into his bedroom in the middle of the night because of some stupid dare his brother made you do and you still refuse to leave despite being sleepy.

you give him a way out, whether he likes it or not.

arms crossed in front of his chest, he deadpanned as he watched your head drop lower and lower to the mattress. soon enough, you were snoring away on his bed with the gadget discarded by your feet. he watched you in silence, your cheek smushed against the surface and the intensity you always radiated lessening from your body. you looked normal now; not energetic, not talkative. just sleeping peacefully, the way he always made sure you were after carrying you home. 

diluc’s heart was finally softening under the knowledge that nobody was watching him anymore. the pessimistic monster that often emerges from him was still here, but in the face of you, it has painted itself pink and it has forgotten vengeance and retribution. in the face of you, it has been dragged out from the death it once laid and became forgiven. 

carefully laying your head down on the pillow, diluc draped the blanket over your shoulder to tuck you into his bed. after making sure you were fine and well, he placed the kamera on the desk in the room, somewhere visible you could find once you wake up, and he left for one of the guest rooms in the mansion. 

tonight was the first time in a while when he has forgotten about all the problems he’s had. something that wasn’t about wine, the family business, or the abyss order. it wasn’t the rest he wanted, perhaps it was hardly any rest at all, but he was glad he got to think about something else.

of course, diluc would never tell you that.

[tribus-mantodea]

[ Lingering attachments. ]

Right! I’m sure there’s an AU about this somewhere already that I haven’t found but you know what, I’ll have my take on it regardless.

This post is just some considerations on the AU where the Traitor Lord lives once more through lifeblood shenanigans. (Awkwardly dubbed as “Lastlifeborn AU” because... it’s the Lastborn’s last life. Yeah, I know.)

I also have no idea how to interpret lifeblood so I’ll put that matter aside.

It would be a bit fun to entertain the idea of the dream-ghosts of Cloth and Traitor “speaking” after their due battle just before she finished savoring the moment. While he does hold some implacable resentment (embrace the infection to become stronger and yet for what? being unable to better protect his kin like he had intended? what was it that put these silly-meaningless thoughts in his head, his heart?), he does hold respect for Cloth and the Ghost first and foremost for beating him in an impromptu duel.

“I’m glad to have fought a mighty warrior like you.” “...” (But he wasn’t one. Unlike the other Lords, he had cheated and lost his way.) “For one outside of my tribe, you battled well.” There’s a lot of awkward pauses and general recollection, the Traitor trying to sort out what had just occurred and what had happened before all this.

Maybe the Ghost comes back in time to not both of them, but at least the Traitor staring at both his victor’s and his own’s bodies. It would seem to remember something—pulling out the Mark of Pride charm and showing it to him. See conflict cross his features, how he nodded as if he then understood something it didn’t.

And the Ghost is quite the mender of a bug itself. It’s compelled to try and resolve something that seems rather unresolvable; it breaks cocoons and cradles all these wiggling lifeseeds in arms and forcibly attempts to get the Traitor’s husk moving again. Said dream-ghost Traitor at first regarding the situation dismissively before growing into a strained panic and worry of “Cease your actions! What compels you to desecrate my corpse—?...” “Just how many did you manage to bring with your small stature...?” (It would’ve been more deserved if his body were to be broken into segments much like the others. His mind feels hazier as if overcome with fatigued the longer it tries, and...)

What. Why is this little bug back in his view and why does he feel so. Tired. Oh. The Traitor... does not deserve this, no, unless this was his punishment to burden the weight of his own sins, but it’s ultimately uncomfortable—he died twice already in removing his title and in true battle. (His body felt wrong before for different reasons, but it felt even worse now that he’s reminded of the air and his other senses.)

And the Ghost does its best to try and point him in a direction it wants him to go. Incessantly tries. But he shook his head, clicked, said aloud that he’d resolved to return to the village and accept the sentence that should have been given when he was deposed. (Imprisonment. Death.) It’s only then does the Ghost no longer tries to point him in a direction (and how strange; was this the same way it pointed its nail?) and accompanies him the... the entire way...

It’s not that long of a trek, no, though his mind is clouded with all sorts of thoughts and regrets. He’d seen his Daughter’s grave for the last time. (The little warrior seemed to insist on giving him a flower, but even when he did finally accept if only to appease it, he’d merely set it back by the grave.) He’d seen his reflection in the pools of acid, the glow of an unnatural cerulean he does not remember seeing unlike the festerous cloud of orange. And... the occasional husks of what had been the split of his tribe.

The village is far quieter than his memories. It is a complicated feeling to see the mantids that watch with both confusion and hissing resentment, those that knew of him formerly and those that did not. Perhaps it must look like a show? To observe how the honored outsider escorts the depose Lord, a beast thought mindless returning in its newly sickening form with not the sweet-sickly orange, but a dim blue glow of what they vaguely remember other bugs considering as taboo (how funny of them to worship and pray to begin with). His thoughts grew louder; he wondered if he could ever make amends. He figures it all in vain. That’s fine, really.

...One thing led to another. The summary is that he does not die, and is “punished” to live with his decisions after it is thoroughly seen he is remorseful (to an extent). It does take a long while for this family to sort out their issues properly though.

Bonus side-note is that the Ghost can be treated as part of said family (but not really, but also hey look its horns are notched twice just like the Traitor’s and—)

Bonus reactions to said return:

The First just wants to know why it happened, so she can reflect and see where the both of them (mostly herself) had went wrong. Her own regrets she’d shouldered still smolder long after all the initial anger and confusion. Considering there’s only so many of them left, she just wants to hear him out (and oh, how strange-wrong it is to hear the difference in his voice now, to see him taller but with the lack of pride from before). In the end, she’s... relieved, almost, to see him the way he is now considering how she longed to revisit old things. Not that they could still return to them. But, well, new interactions to unfold, lots of baggage to pack.

The Second’s the one who’s most expressively upset. Frustrated that she cannot take her pains out on him as when she’d forced his claws to a duel, it was more than clear that his heart wasn’t in it (how disrespectful; how dare he seem so inclined to let the end of her nail-lance sink deep and through). She’d always known him to be a great fighter, so the reasoning behind him embracing the infection was more than just insulting as a betrayal. She despises the more passive behavior (this wasn’t the brother she remembered, what had happened to the hint of deserving arrogance he once bore?) and most of all, resents herself for not having done something more given the more responsibility their eldest took on.

The Third is uncharacteristically quiet, unsure and sorting out her emotions just like before (but managing to unintentionally, somehow, be the coldest towards him). She’s always been aware that while he did seek counsel, most often asking the eldest, he also disliked relying on anyone else and she never minded that, no. She felt as if she knew why he’d left. But in knowing what happened to her niece and the other, closer followers that had looked up to him, it was difficult for her to figure out how to respond to him in knowing the losses sustained. It’s... she eventually decides, though, to accept with resignation. He’s dealt with their other sisters and the disdain of the village and would continue to do so (probably). She’s just happy to have him back even despite the changes. She can at least... try, to not make the transition jarring by having even herself different in behavior. Sort of.

-

Redacted consideration was that he’d lose most if not all of the memories during his time of being infected because while it’d be fun for him to think that nothing more than him waking up in a random location happened and then seeing the husks of his tribe(?) along with “Whose grave is this?” and returning to the village almost as if nothing happened, the sisters would have a Horrendous Time alongside the Traitor if he by chance was then told of what happened.

anyways my AUs are to be self-indulgent, not to combust spontaneously :D I probably amplified the inferiority issue a bit too much here but Welp

alright bonus-bonusnonsense below:

little ghost does crimes. shoves lifeseeds into husk (in which some lifeseeds happily run away into said husk to get away from the chance of dying by tiny bug)

bug tries to slap mark of pride charm onto the former traitor lord

aand this:

It watches as he idles a moment longer, bowing his head towards the marked grave of his late Child. Quietly it comes closer, hesitantly, and reaches out—rests its hand onto his side and gently curls its fingers into his cloak. He does not move. So the vessel tilts its head, sits. Decides to wait for him—and rest. (aka it’d be quite nice, you know, to imagine the trek back where the Ghost doesn’t forcibly try to understand the dude, but is a sort of comfort... or maybe... just... a reaper, escorting him to his death. but then jokes on you big man it’s a friend!!)

[sloppy-butcher]

here it is folks - my self-indulgent, feel-better fic. my great magnum opus. 

 this is a reader insert story that i have written involving the Hillbilly (Max Thompson Jr.). It will consist of multiple chapters and is subject to random additions and changes. The reader will be female, unfortunately, but other than that everything will be pretty ambiguous.

no one asked for this. no one wanted it. but  life is too short to not write what i want to. i hope that someone out there will read this and enjoy it. i certainly did enjoy it when i wrote it :) please be aware that there has been little to no proof reading. i literally just raw-dogged it and wrote from my horny lil heart. 

so without further ado, presenting:

Waitin’ On a Superman - 

Chapter 1 : Putting the Dog to Sleep

(The Hillbilly (Max Thompson Jr.) x female!reader)

Next

There’s a dog loose in the fields.

You can hear its arduous breathing all around, exhausting and loud like the grumbling of an approaching thunderstorm. Inevitable in its eventuality but far enough away to feel untouchable. It lies there waiting, hidden from your view beyond in the sea of yellow corn stalks, always just a turn of your head away. In the beginning, the constant state of hyper-awareness that the beast had over you nearly drove you insane. The hairs on the back of your neck never once sitting down. To know that something is hunting you, biding its time for you to only sleep so that it could finally close its teeth around your neck and feast - is a fate worse than death.  

But you were already dead, that much you knew. You were dead and this place was waking purgatory. And that dog was just chasing an empty scent trail. 

For what felt like hours you had been walking through the endless corn field. You had lost all sensation in that engulfing ocean of yellow and brown, moving as if through a thick dream. Not only did you forget yourself in the field, you also could not remember how you had ended up there. The exact details that lead to your confusion are all a blur in your head. You remember wanting to go for a private walk, help clear your head, then you remember the corn and that is all. It was the most peculiar situation, to be so completely absent in mind and in physical awareness that you did not even feel real anymore and in this translucent in between world you realized that nothing really mattered. What fear did you have for a dog when you were already dead?

In an odd way, it was refreshing to drown. The vibrate colors and smells of the plants were all a stark contrast to what you had been calling a life before. For the past few months all you knew was blood, your existence a meal for some eldritch monster and its many toys, food stuck in its grinding teeth.There were others, people like you who wore similar masks of pale panic, all of which perished and died in a horrific and cosmic game of cat and mouse. Though there was safety in numbers, a flock mentality that you found most disdainful, the lonely hours spent walking that field brought with it strange peace. The whoosh of a slow wind through the fingers of corn, the gentle rustle of a dead leaf against another, were as comfortable to you as the uneasy conversation with a fellow human. It was only when you heard the loud crunch of heavy footsteps to your left that you were reminded of the dog.

You feel your feet come to a hesitant stop and your breathing quieten to that of a whisper, your heart also slowing in an attempt to offer the outside world a better audience. The footsteps stopped with yours. You could hear the dog panting, licking its dry lips eager for the conclusion of its long hunt. It had been following you for a while by now, stalking right behind. Yet never had it attacked. Barely had it made its presence noticed. And even as it became blatantly apparent that you were aware of its closeness, it remained hidden. Waiting. Holding its breath for you to do something - speak, run away, fight or simply give in to the inescapable fate. 

You too waited for your reaction, sitting as if a spectator to your own life. Eventually you felt the stillness stretch on into an uncomfortable length and you knew that it could no longer sustain itself lest something dare break it. Something had to happen. The dog had to attack. 

“I know you are there,” Your voice spoke strong against the world, twirling with the mindless wind in a sort of soulful, last reunion. It surprised you to speak so suddenly and clearly, your words sounding without cracks or hesitations. Again it was like you were in a dream, like all that was happening was but a faint memory, its consequences a hollow threat. It would hardly be a fight, you were no match for whatever beast you had given yourself up to and you lacked the motivation to try. You just hoped it would be over soon. 

“Be quick.” You paused, nothing moved, not even the wind dared to interrupt your final request. “Please.” This was the breaking point, the chip in your otherwise impervious composure. It was a sad and desperately bitter plea, so breathless it was hardly even said. For the second time that evening, the universe held its breath.

“You ain’t meant to be here. Pigs’re meant to stay in their pen.” It was a man that spoke. Not a dog. His voice, a course and congested rumbling using words that did not sound practiced or fully-formed, grabbed at your chest and squeezed the air out leaving you helplessly gasping in shock. You felt the dream shatter around you, glass shards falling and cutting you awake with their sharpness. Where were you? What was happening? Was this all real? “It don’t like it when pigs get out. Don’t like it when Donny gets out.” 

In a spontaneous explosion, everything came back to you. You were lost, alone in this corn field with a strange man. You felt familiar fear bubble up in your stomach and threaten to make you vomit. Yet through this epiphany, you remained still, your feet planted sternly in the same spot, your eyes focused forward.

“And who is this Donny?” You cursed yourself for speaking again, cursed your stupidity for walking alone, cursed your naivety for allowing the fields to swallow you completely and cursed your entire life that led you to this exact moment in time. But, since you were already digging your grave, you did not see the sense in stopping. In this nightmare of a world, encountering strange men was not an uncommon thing and the events that occurred after such interactions were equally unexpected. But never had one spoken so openly to you before and, though the voice in all its roughness scared you, there was a noticeable absence of malice. It’s oddity being the cause for your willingness to pursue the conversation regardless of what trouble it may create.

“One of ‘em prized pigs.” The man growled then coughed and spat something into the dirt in a show of disgust. You blink your eyes and tilt your head, ignorant to the troubled temper of the person standing in the corn.

“That's not good.” Your mouth was running wild, speaking without a commander and without a thought for the repercussions. “There's a dog loose in these fields. You should find Donny before the dog does.” The man scoffed, a deep and painful sound from a throat that did not seem normal or healthy.

“Ain’t no dog here. Just... Boy.” You frowned at the way he said ‘boy’, though choose not to look the gifted horse in the mouth. You did not want the fragile politeness that sat between you and him to break by sticking your nose in places it should not be. You were already way over your head just by standing there in the corn, poking the bear would most definitely seal your doom. For now, everything was fine and you were content to maintain this for as long as possible. The man shuffled uneasily and for a moment you debated turning to face him before catching yourself and reinforcing your stern guard. 

“Best be on your way.” He commanded, sounding further away and distracted. “Out. Get out. Out. Get out.” He started rambling, repeating again and again the phrase with each utterance getting quieter and more hurried than the last. 

Out - what a fantastical idea. Was that not the very thing you had been searching for all this time? A way out of not only this godforsaken corn field, but this entire nightmare vision that dared to call itself a world. It was always fighting for you, always looking, always pushing forward. Out, he said, as if the concept was as easily obtained as it was said. 

“I- '' It scorned you to interrupt his talkings, feeling almost unnatural to impede. ”I don't know the way out. You see, I think I am lost.” He calmed down at your revelation, sputtering out like an old car struggling to get up a hill. The breeze blew and danced gently over your face, bringing with it the scent of plants and dust. There was something else in it, a musty smell familiar in a way, but your nose was not strong enough to fully define the strangeness and by the time the breeze had passed you had pushed it out of your mind.

“Boy will be here soon.” It seemed that this statement was not directed to you for he spoke it over his shoulder, head turned away. He was, however, more controlled in this response and before you could react he had started to move. You heard him begin to walk off to some place to your left, stalks of corn pushed to the side or stomped on by his heavy feet. You buckled and finally turned to look in his direction and saw only the faintest glimpse of a dark shape drifting further and further away in the yellow. You swayed in his direction, not sure whether to follow him or not.

“Come.” The man answered your unsaid question, “Boy won’t find you this way.” And in an instant you were after him, pushing through the corn with determination and desperation to keep his fast pace. Try as you might to run, the man remained only but a dark visage, always just fast enough to stay out of your line of sight. 

You chased after the shadowy figure for what felt like 10 minutes when suddenly he stopped. You slammed on the breaks, doubling over and panting from the long jog and relentless speed. In your exhaustion you did not manage to find the man for he had sunk back into his cover or plant before you could catch your breath and stand up straight again.

“There.” He said, speaking loud enough for you to hear him over your gasps. It irked you that there wasn’t so much as a wheeze when he spoke though you chalked that up to how his ordinary breathing already sounded so labored and difficult. “Boy don’t go in there. Stay till he leaves then go. Get out.” 

“T-Thank you.” You gushed to the open air as the man took off into the night. You waited in his wake for a moment, mind racing in a futile attempt to try understand what exactly had just occurred, before turning and stepping out of the field’s border. Erected in a clearing was a dingy, old, red barn, its doors open and swinging on broken hinges, its paint dull and peeling. It was a most unappealing sight that made you inwardly cringe - if your situation was not so dire you would never dare step a foot inside such a place. 

The interior was no better, the ceiling occupying a gaping hole in the middle and the walls a crumbling mess. However, in the center was a great pile of dry hay. Its aroma was alluring and within seconds you had collapsed on it. The pipes of dried grass poked you in the most uncomfortable areas, you had no idea how you were ever going to fall asleep on such a horrible and most unfavorable bed. Yet as you buried you face deeper into the straw, swimming down into the origin of warmth, dryness and the smell of earth, sleep found you in no time at all.

[zolganif]

quarantinesurveys > suckitsurveys.

back to basics.

Do you take lessons for anything? No.

Has something really heavy ever fallen on you? No. 

If you wear makeup, what colors do you usually wear? Eyeliner, eyeshadow, lipstick. Sometime blush. 

Does your shower have curtains or a glass door/wall? A glass door. 

If you have more than one pet, do they ever get jealous of each other?

Is there a room in your house that you don’t like going in? The basement. I don’t like going down there by myself at night. 

Do you remember the last question you were asked? What did you answer? I guess this one. ha. 

Besides salt and butter, do you put anything on your popcorn? Sometimes I eat popcorn that has a cheesy flavor to it. 

Are you lonely? At times I am. 

What’s your favorite magazine to read?

Do you like pineapple? No. 

Have you ever seen fireflies? Yes. 

Have you ever trespassed? Yep. When I was younger. In a abandoned house with Colin. Found a rainbow scarf inside and decided to keep it. I still have it too. 

Do you tell your parents where you are going? Not always. 

Do you raise your hand or participate in class?

Do you like visiting the mall? Why or why not? Sometimes.

Have you ever purposely hurt an animal? Fuck no.

Would you ever see a therapist? Yes. I need to see one again in the future. 

Are you afraid of heights? No. 

Are you afraid of the dark? I’m afraid of what I don’t know that could be in the dark. 

Are you a jealous person? Nope. 

When is your birthday? May 10th.

What are you listening to right now? Siobhan Fahey 

Have you ever been caught doing something you weren’t supposed to be doing? No. 

Are you still friends with someone from kindergarten? Yes, on Facebook. 

What is the most important thing to you? My loved ones, Moxxie, small things that make me happy, taking care of health, making sure I have things I need. 

Do you like whipped cream? Yes. 

Are you close to your mother? Very. 

Are you close to your father? Yes.

Do you walk around bare foot when you’re at home? Or do you wear socks? Either one. 

Do you like chocolate popsicles? I prefer fruit ones.

Would you ever be your school’s mascot who wears that costume? No.

Would you rather see the Great Wall of China or Big Ben? Great Wall of China. 

Have you ever written a poem? Yes. 

Would you ever be a tornado chaser? Not interested. 

What is your favorite thing to eat with bbq sauce, if you even like that stuff? Chicken. 

Your parents tell you that this summer, you get to pick the vacation. Where do you plan to go? Let’s go to Norway. 

What do you think is a good theme for a prom? Something that has to do with the stars or ocean. Or even a garden theme. 

Have you ever had to do a class in summer school? No. 

Do you get nervous when you go to the doctor? About what? Sometimes. 

Have you ever been to the rainforest? No. 

Have you ever created a website? No. 

Ever thought about writing a book? Yes.

Have you ever had a dream where you killed someone? *shrugs*

Do you ever make up stories in your head and wish they come true? Hell yeah. 

Which is worse: stuffy nose or runny nose? A runny nose. 

Which is worse: Sick to your stomach or sore throat? Ugh. Both are terrible. 

Do you think your last relationship was a disaster? It wasn’t exactly a disaster, we just weren’t meant for each other, didn’t have a lot in common and I didn’t feel a connection with him. 

Have you ever solved a Rubik’s Cube? Nope.

Who do you think is the easiest to talk to? Mom, Andrew, Colin. 

Would you consider yourself to be emo? Nope. Tbh, people who dress that way, I’ve never thought of them as ‘emo’. The term I would think is more correct is Scene. Pretty much the same thing and there’s really no difference between them. But eh, most people will never get that. 

Do you have a favourite metal band or do you not like metal? I have tons of favorite metal bands. 

What is your current desktop picture? A Ambreigns drawing <3 

Thick or thin blanket? Depends on the weather or how the temperature in the room is. 

Who are your favorite bands? *cracks knuckles* 

Lordi, Straylight Run, Avantasia, Simple Plan, Darkthrone, 45 Grave, Evanescence, Endless Rain, Mindless Self Indulgence, Cinderella, Delain, Nightwish, Six Hour Sundown, Sum 41, Meg & Dia, VersaEmerge, Superchick, Sonic Syndicate, Marilyn Manson, Sirenia, Motley Crue, Within Temptation, Bon Jovi, Skid Row, Dramarama, Lennon Murphy, Heart, Vixen, Lita Ford, Ozzy Osbourne, Alice Cooper, The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus, and so much more. 

And that’s just including bands. Well, besides pop ones and I also included solo metal/rock singers in there. 

How do you mark through your word search puzzles? I don’t really do those.

Have you ever sewn something? Yes. Wasn’t great at it though. 

What did you eat for dinner last night? Some chicken burgers. 

Ever been grounded? Yeah.

Have you seen all of the Jaws movies? I think only the first one and second. 

When was the last time you played cards? (not on the computer) It’s been a long time. 

Have you ever drank Cherry Coke? Yep. 

Have you ever had a black eye? No. 

Have you ever eaten a bug? No.

Do you like pranking people? No. 

Did you ever take a cooking class in school? Had to a lot of that in Boces in 11th grade. Being there got in the way of other classes I had. Ugh. And honestly, the teacher was a bit of a bitch. Like I guess because I dressed in alternative clothing, like tripp pants and listened to metal music, she saw me as an ‘evil’ or violent person. 

Do you celebrate St. Patrick’s Day? No. 

Do you use Skype? No. 

Have you ever participated in local magazine cover girl searches? No.

Have you ever been called a skank/slut because of the way you dress? Yes. 

Is your ex sexually attractive to you still? No.

Describe the most romantic moment you’ve ever had. Lots of times with Andrew. 

Have you ever cheated on a test? No. 

Have you ever been to couple’s counseling? No.

How often does your employer ask you to work overtime? They don’t. 

Did you often read for fun when you were a kid? Yes. 

When was the last time you were scared? I don’t remember. 

What’s your favorite song by Rihanna? Unfaithful.  Can you speak binary? No. 

Would you rather live somewhere that had hurricanes or tornadoes? Neither, thanks.

Have you ever had a pet that you disliked? No.

When was the last time you saw hail? I don’t remember. 

What is on your mind right this second: Not much. 

Have you ever given a nickname to your pet(s)? Just some funny versions of their names. Like Fuzzball, I used to call her Fuzz or Fuzzy-Wuzzy ha. Moxxie, I call him Moxxie-Woxxy, and Sweetums ha. 

When was the last time you shaved your legs? A couple of weeks ago. 

Do you ever try free samples at the store? Yes. 

Do you like boys with long hair? Yes. <3 

Do you like root beer? No, but I like root beer floats. 

What is the best fast food place, in your opinion? Wendy’s. 

Do you have faith in yourself? Yes. 

[96harmony96]

Chapter 11

“But she’s let you in.”

And she’d already shown hints of how possessive she could be about that connection. I accepted that because it was a flaw I shared, but still…

“You’re analyzing this to death, Camila,” Cary said. “You’re thinking the way she feels about you has to be a fluke or a mistake. Someone like her couldn’t really be into you for your big heart and sharp mind, right?”

“My self-esteem isn’t that bad,” I protested.

He took a sip of his champagne. “Isn’t it? So tell me something you think she likes about you that doesn’t have to do with sex or codependency.”

I thought about it and came up empty, which made me scowl.

“Right,” he went on with a nod. “And if Jauregui is anywhere near as messed up as we are, she’s thinking the same thing in reverse, wondering what a hot babe like you sees in a girl like her. You’ve got money, so what has she got going for her besides being a stud who keeps screwing up?”

Sitting back in my chair, I absorbed everything he’d said. “Cary, I love you madly.”

He grinned. “Back atcha, sweets. My advice, for what it’s worth? Couples therapy. It’s always been my plan to get into it when I find the one I want to settle down with. And try to have fun with her. You’ve got to have as many good times as bad or it all becomes too painful and too much work.”

I reached over and squeezed his hand. “Thank you.”

“For what?” He shrugged off my gratitude with an elegant wave of his hand. “It’s easy to pick apart someone else’s life. You know I couldn’t get through my rough spots without you.”

“Which you don’t have any of now,” I pointed out, shifting the focus to him. “You’re about to be splashed across a Times Square billboard. You won’t be my secret any longer. Should we upgrade dinner from pizza to something more worthy of the occasion? How about we haul out that case of Cristal Stanton gave us?”

“Now you’re talking.”

“Movies? Anything in particular you want to watch?”

“Whatever you want. I wouldn’t want to screw with your big-dumb-blow-’em-up movie genius.”

I grinned, feeling better as I’d known I would after an hour with Cary. “You’ll let me know if I’m too dense to figure out when you and Trey want to be alone.”

“Ha! Don’t worry about that. Your tempestuous love life is making me feel dull and boring. I could use a hot, sweaty bang with my own stud.”

“You just had a maintenance closet romp a couple days ago!”

He sighed. “I’d nearly forgotten. How sad is that?”

“It isn’t when your eyes are laughing.”

I’d just gotten back to my desk when I checked my smartphone and found a text from Lauren letting me know she had fifteen minutes to spare at quarter to three. I nursed a secret rush of anticipation for the next hour and a half, having decided to take Cary’s advice and have a little fun. Lauren’s and I would have to wade through the ugliness of my past soon enough, but for now, I could give us both something to smile about.

I texted her just before I left, letting her know I was on my way. Considering the time constraints, we couldn’t waste a minute. Lauren must have felt the same way, because I found Scott waiting for me at reception when I reached the Cross Industries waiting area. He walked me back after the receptionist buzzed me in.

“How’s your day been?” I asked him.

He smiled. “Great so far. Yours?”

I smiled back. “I’ve had worse.”

Lauren was on the phone when I entered her office. Her tone was clipped and impatient as she told the person on the other end of the line that they should be able to manage the job without her having to oversee it personally.

she held up one finger to me to tell me she’d be another minute. I responded by blowing a big bubble with the gum I was chewing and popping it loudly.

Her brows shot up, and she hit the buttons to close the doors and frost the glass wall.

Grinning, I sauntered over to her desk and hopped onto it, curling my fingers around the lip and swinging my legs. she popped the next bubble I blew with a quick jab of her finger. I pouted prettily.

“Deal with it,” she said with quiet authority to whoever was on the phone. “It’ll be next week before I can get out there and waiting will set us back further. Stop talking. I have something time-sensitive on my desk and you’re keeping me away from it. I guarantee that’s not improving my disposition. Fix what needs fixing and report back to me tomorrow.”

she returned the phone to its cradle with suppressed violence. “Camila—”

I held up one hand to cut her off and wrapped my gum in a Post-it I took from a dispenser on her desk. “Before you reprimand me, Miss. Jauregui, I want to say that when we reached an impasse in our merger discussions at the hotel yesterday I shouldn’t have walked out. It didn’t help to resolve the situation. And I know I didn’t react very well to the PR issue with the photo. But still…Even though I’ve been a naughty secretary, I think I should be given another chance to excel.”

Her gaze narrowed as she studied me, assessing and reevaluating the situation on the fly. “Did I ask for your opinion on the appropriate action to take, Miss Cabello?”

I shook my head and looked up at her from beneath my lashes. I could see the lingering frustration from her phone call falling away from her, replaced by her growing interest and arousal.

Hopping down from the desk, I sidled closer and smoothed her immaculate tie with both hands. “Can’t we work something out? I do possess a wide variety of useful skills.”

she caught me by the hips. “Which is one of the many reasons you’re the only woman I’ve ever considered for the position.”

Warmth flowed through me at her words. Boldly cupping her cock in my hand, I fondled her through her slacks. “Maybe I should reapply myself to my duties? I could demonstrate some of the ways I��m uniquely qualified to assist you.”

Lauren hardened with delectable swiftness. “Such initiative, Miss Cabello. But my next meeting is less than ten minutes away. Also, I’m not accustomed to exploring job enrichment opportunities in my office.”

I freed the button of her fly and lowered her zipper. With my lips to her jaw, I whispered, “If you think there’s anywhere I won’t make you come, you’ll have to revisit and revise.”

“Camila,” she breathed, her eyes hot and tender. she cupped my throat, her thumbs brushing over my jaw. “You’re unraveling me. Do you know that? Are you doing it on purpose?”

I reached inside her boxer briefs and wrapped my hands around her, offering up my lips for a kiss. she obliged me, taking my mouth with a fierceness that left me breathless.

“I want you,” she growled.

I sank to my knees on the carpeted floor, pulling her pants down enough to give me the access I needed.

she exhaled harshly. “Camila, what are you—”

My lips flowed over the wide crown. she reached back for the edge of her desk, her hands curling around the lip with white-knuckled force. I held her with both hands and mouthed the plush head, sucking gently. The softness of her skin and her uniquely appealing scent made me moan. I felt the vibration ripple through her entire body and heard a rough sound rumble in her chest.

Lauren touched my cheek. “Lick it.”

Aroused by the command, I fluttered my tongue across the underside and shivered with delight when she rewarded me with a hot burst of pre-cum. Fisting the root of her with one hand, I hollowed my cheeks and drew rhythmically, hoping for more.

I wished I had the time to make it last. Drive her crazy…

she made a sound filled with the sweetest agony. “God, Camila…your mouth. Keep sucking. Like that…hard and deep.”

I was so turned on by her pleasure I squirmed. Her hands pushed into my bound hair, pulling and tugging at the roots. I loved how she started out with tenderness, then grew rougher as the lust she felt for me overwhelmed her control.

The soft bite of pain made me hungrier, greedier. My head bobbed as I pleasured her, jacking her with one hand while I sucked and stroked the crest with my mouth. Heavy veins coursed the length of her cock, and I slid the flat of my tongue along them, tilting my head to find and caress each one.

she swelled, growing thicker and longer. My knees were uncomfortable, but I didn’t care; my gaze was riveted to Lauren as her head fell back and she fought for breath.

“Camila, you suck me so good.” she held my head still and took over. Thrusting her hips. Fucking my mouth. Stripped to a level of base need where only the race to orgasm mattered.

The thought made me crazed, the image in my mind of how we must look: Lauren in all her urbane sophistication, standing at the desk where she ruled an empire, stroking her big cock in and out of my greedy mouth.

I gripped her straining thighs in both hands, frantically working my lips and tongue, desperate for her climax. Her balls were heavy and big, an audacious display of her powerful virility. I cupped them, rolling them gently, feeling them tighten and draw up.

“Ah, Camila.” Her voice was a guttural rasp. Her grip tightened in my hair. “You’re making me come.”

The first spurt of semen was so thick, I struggled to swallow. Mindless in her pleasure, Lauren was thrusting against the back of my throat, her cock throbbing with every wrenching pulse into my mouth. My eyes watered and my lungs burned, but still I pumped my fists, milking her. Her entire body shuddered as I took everything she had. The sounds she made and the muttered, breathless praise were the most gratifying I’d ever heard.

I licked her clean, marveling at how she didn’t fully soften even after an explosive orgasm. she was still capable of fucking me senseless and more than willing to, I knew. But there was no time and I was happy about that. I wanted to do this for her. For us. For me, really, because I needed to know I could indulge in a selfless sexual act without feeling taken advantage of.

“I have to go,” I murmured, standing and pressing my lips to her. “I hope the rest of your day is awesome, and your business dinner tonight, too.”

I started to move away, but she caught my wrist, her gaze on the clock readout on her desk phone. I noticed my picture then, sitting in a place of prominence where she’d see it all day.

“Camila…Damn it. Wait.”

I frowned at her tone, which sounded anxious. Frustrated.

she quickly restored her appearance, tucking herself back into her boxer briefs and straightening the tail of her shirt so she could fasten her pants. There was something sweet in watching her pull himself back together, restoring the façade she wore for the world while I knew at least a little of the man beneath it.

Tugging me close, Lauren pressed her lips to my brow. Her hands moved through my hair to unclip my tortoise barrette. “I didn’t get you off.”

“No need.” I loved the feel of her hands on my scalp. “That rocked just the way it was.”

she was overly focused on fixing my hair, her cheeks flushed from her orgasm. “I know you need an even exchange,” she argued gruffly. “I can’t let you leave feeling like I used you.”

A bittersweet tenderness pierced me. she’d listened. she cared.

I cupped her face in my hands. “You did use me, with my permission, and it was seriously hot. I wanted to give you this, Lauren. Remember? I warned you. I wanted you to have this memory of me.”

Her eyes widened with alarm. “Why the fuck do I need memories when I have you? Camila, if this is about the photo—”

“Shut up and enjoy the high.” We didn’t have the time to get into the photo issue now and I didn’t want to. It was going to ruin everything. “If we’d had an hour, I still wouldn’t let you get me off. I’m not keeping score with you, ace. And honestly, you’re the first person I can say that to. Now, I have to go. You have to go.”

I started away again, but she caught me back.

Scott’s voice came through the speaker. “Excuse me, Miss. Jauregui. But your three o’clock is here.”

“It’s okay, Lauren,” I assured her. “You’re coming over tonight, right?”

“Nothing could keep me away.”

I shoved up onto my tiptoes and kissed her cheek. “We’ll talk then.”

____

After work, I took the stairs down to the ground floor to feel less guilty about skipping the gym and seriously regretted it by the time I reached the lobby. Lack of sleep from the night before had left me wiped out. I was contemplating taking the subway rather than walking when I saw Lauren’s Bentley at the curb. When the driver got out and greeted me by name, I halted abruptly, surprised.

“Miss. Jauregui asked that I take you home,” he said, looking smart in his black suit and chauffeur hat. He was an older gentleman with graying red hair, pale blue eyes, and the softest of cultured accents.

As much as my legs ached, I was grateful for the offer. “Thank you…? I’m sorry—what was your name?”

“Angus, Miss Cabello.”

How had I not remembered that? The name was so cool, it made me smile. “Thank you, Angus.”

He tipped his hat. “My pleasure.”

I slid through the back door he opened for me and as I settled into the seat, I caught a glimpse of the handgun he wore in a shoulder holster beneath his jacket. It appeared that Angus, like Clancy, was both bodyguard and driver.

We pulled away from the curb and I asked, “How long have you been working for Miss Jauregui, Angus?”

“Eight years now.”

“Quite a while.”

“I’ve known her longer than that,” he volunteered, catching my gaze in the rearview mirror. “I drove her to school when she was a young girl. she hired me away from Mr. Vidal when the time came.”

Once again, I tried to picture Lauren as a child. No doubt she’d been beautiful and charismatic even then.

Had she enjoyed “normal” sexual relationships when she was a teenager? I couldn’t imagine that women weren’t throwing themselves at her even then. And as innately sexual as she was, I imagined she’d been a horny teen.

Digging in my purse, I pulled out my keys and leaned forward to set them on the front passenger seat. “Can you see that Lauren gets those? she’s supposed to come over after whatever it is she’s doing tonight and depending on how late that is, I might not hear her knock.”

“Of course.”

Paul opened the door for me when we arrived at my apartment and he greeted Angus by name, reminding me that Lauren owned the building. I waved to both men, told the front desk Lauren would be coming over later, and then took myself upstairs. Cary’s raised brows when he opened the door to me made me laugh.

“Lauren’s coming over later,” I explained, “but I’m feeling so hammered right now I may not stay up long. So I gave her my keys to let herself in. Did you order already?”

“I did. And I tossed a few bottles of Cristal in the wine fridge.”

“You’re the best.” I shoved my bag at him.

I showered and called my mom from the phone in my room, wincing at her strident, “I have been trying to reach you for days!”

“Mom, if it’s about Lauren Jauregui—”

“Well, of course, it’s partly about her! For goodness’ sake, Camila. You’re being called the significant woman in her life. How could I not want to talk about that?”

“Mom—”

“But there’s also the appointment you asked me to make with Dr. Petersen.” The note of smug amusement in her voice made me smile. “We’re scheduled to meet with him Thursday at six o’clock in the evening. I hope that works for you. He doesn’t do many evening appointments.”

I plopped backward onto my bed with a sigh. I’d been so distracted by work and Lauren that the appointment had slipped my mind. “Thursday at six will be fine. Thank you.”

“Now, then. Tell me about jauregui…”

When I emerged from my bedroom dressed in jersey pants and a San Diego State University sweatshirt, I found Trey seated with Cary in the living room. Both men stood when I came in and Trey gifted me with an open, friendly smile.

“I’m sorry I look so ragged,” I said sheepishly, running my fingers through my damp ponytail. “Taking the stairs at work almost killed me today.”

“Elevator take the day off?” he asked.

“Nope. My brain did. What the hell was I thinking?” Spending the night with Lauren was enough of a workout.

The doorbell rang and Cary went to get it while I headed into the kitchen for the Cristal. I joined him at the breakfast bar as he signed the credit card receipt and the look in his eyes when he glanced at Trey had me hiding a smile.

There were a lot of those looks going back and forth between the two men as the evening progressed. And I had to agree with Cary that Trey was a hottie. Dressed in distressed jeans, matching vest, and a long-sleeved shirt, the aspiring veterinarian looked casual but well put together. He was very different personality-wise from the type of guy Cary usually dated. Trey seemed more grounded; not quite somber, but definitely not flighty. I thought he’d be a good influence on Cary, if they stayed together long enough.

The three of us made it through two bottles of Cristal and two pizzas between us, plus all of Demolition Man before I called it a night. I urged Trey to stay for Drivento round out the Stallone mini-marathon; then I went to my room and changed into a sexy black baby doll I’d been given as part of a bridesmaid gift bag—sans the matching panties.

Leaving a candle burning for Lauren, I crashed.

____

I woke to darkness and the scent of Lauren’s skin, the lights and sounds of the city shut out by soundproofed windows and blackout drapes.

Lauren slid over me, a moving shadow, her bare skin cool to the touch. Her mouth slanted over mine, kissing me slow and deeply, tasting of mint and her own unique flavor. My hands slid down her sleekly muscular back, my legs parting so she could settle comfortably between them. The weight of her against me made my heart sigh and my blood warm with desire.

“Well, hello to you, too,” I said breathlessly when she let me up for air.

“You’ll come with me next time,” she murmured in that sexy and decadent voice, nibbling at my throat.

“Will I?” I teased.

she reached down and cupped my butt in her hand, squeezing and lifting me into a deft roll of her hips. “Yes. I missed you, Camila.”

I ran my fingers through her hair, wishing I could see her. “You haven’t known me long enough to miss me.”

“Shows how much you know,” Lauren scoffed, sliding downward and nuzzling between my breasts.

I gasped as her mouth covered my nipple and sucked through the satin, deep pulls that echoed in the clenching of my core. she moved to my other breast, her hand pushing up the hem of my baby doll. I arched into her, lost to the magic of her mouth as it moved over my body, her tongue dipping into my navel, then sliding lower.

“And you missed me, too,” she purred with masculine satisfaction, the tip of her middle finger rimming my cleft. “You’re swollen and wet for me.”

she pulled my legs over her shoulders and licked between my folds, soft and provocative laps of hot velvet against my sensitive flesh. My hands fisted in the sheet, my chest heaving as she circled my clit with the tip of her tongue, then nudged the hypersensitive knot of nerves. I keened, my hips moving restlessly into the devious torment, my muscles tightening with the clawing need to come.

The light, teasing flutters were driving me insane, giving me just enough to make me writhe but not enough to get me off. “Lauren, please.”

“Not yet.”

she tortured me, coaxing my body to the brink of orgasm, and then letting me slide back down. Over and over. Until sweat misted my skin and my heart felt like it would burst. Her tongue was tireless and diabolical, cleverly focusing on my clit until a single stroke would set me off, then moving lower to thrust into me. The soft, shallow plunges were maddening, the flickering against the nerve-laden tissues making me desperate enough to beg shamelessly.

“Please, Lauren…let me come…I need to come, please.”

“Shh, angel…I’ll take care of you.”

she finished me with a tenderness that made the orgasm roll through me like a crashing wave, building and swelling and spreading through me in a warm rush of pleasure.

she threaded her fingers with mine when she came over me again, restraining my arms. The head of her cock aligned with the slick entrance of my body and she pushed inexorably into me. I moaned, shifting to accommodate the heavy surge of her penis.

Lauren’s breath gusted hard and humid against my throat, her big frame trembling as she slid carefully inside me. “You’re so soft and warm. Mine, Camila. You’re mine.”

I wrapped my legs around her hips, welcoming her deeper, feeling her buttocks flex and release against my calves as she demonstrated to my body that it would indeed take her thick length all the way to the root.

With our hands linked, she took my mouth and began to move, gliding in and out with languid skill, the tempo precise and relentless yet smooth and easy. I felt every rock-hard inch of her, felt the unmistakable reiteration that every inch of me was her to possess. she drove the message home repeatedly until I was gasping against her mouth, thrashing restlessly beneath her, my hands bloodless from the strength of my grip on her.

she spoke heated praise and encouragement, telling me how beautiful I was…how perfect I felt to her…how she’d never stop…couldn’t stop. I came with a sharp cry of relief, vibrating with the ecstasy of it, and she was right there with me. Her pace quickened for several slamming thrusts; then she climaxed with a hiss of my name, spilling into me.

I sank lax into the mattress, sweaty and boneless and replete.

“I’m not done,” she whispered darkly, adjusting her knees to increase the force of her thrusts. The pace remained expertly measured, each plunge staking a claim—your body exists to serve me.

Biting my lip, I fought back the sounds of helpless pleasure that might’ve broken the tranquility of the night…and betrayed the frightening depths of emotion I was beginning to feel for Lauren Jauregui.

[themattress]

Rewatch: My Bride is a Mermaid Ep 9 - 11

In which I watch three episodes, each better than the last.

Except for their endings, which somehow keep getting worse.

Episode 9: The Running Man

OK, so much happen in these episodes that I’m doing this with bullet points.

- “SUN! YOU JUST HIT A CELEBRITY IN THE FACE WITH A VOLLEYBALL!”  Right off the bat, Lunar loses all of that menace she had in the previous two episodes. What a dork!

- Kai Mikawa is introduced, crashing though the gym floor with a submarine. He’s a jerk who throws his power and money around to solve his problems, but a highly entertaining one.

- That flashback to child Kai and child Sun was hilarious and adorable.

- Kai has severe agoraphobia. He would thrive in the current conditions of the world.

- The midway point of the episode is clearly where Kai’s debut chapter in the manga ended, with him seemingly leaving to go on a journey of self-improvement for Sun’s sake only to show up as a new classmate the next day. The second half of the episode is a completely different story about a school field day, with the only link being Kai’s heavy involvement.

- Kai reveals his famous space suit, the only way he can get around his problem with being outdoors. He also gains a devoted servant in Chimp, who betrays Nagasumi and even tries to launch missiles at him from Kai’s submarine. Damn it, why couldn’t you stay Chimp Roshi? Actually, great things come out of this Kai/Chimp alliance later on, so I should be grateful.

- Sun’s team is rightfully losing, so Gozaburo fucking cheats and declares the final event to be worth a ridiculously large amount of points so that if Sun’s team win it, they win the whole field day. But ha ha, this plan fails when a downpour of rain incapacitates the merpeople.

- Seeing Kai flopping around on the track as an orca whale is just....what!?

- The episode ends abruptly: Sun sings her ridiculous sleep song to put everyone to sleep, and then there’s a brief scene with all the girls talking before Nagasumi, Kai and Chimp’s faces get superimposed onto a rainbow and Kai’s voice saying something like “I’ll get you next time, Nagasumi Michishio!” Really? They couldn’t think of a better way to end it?

Episode 10: Iron Man

- This episode introduces one of the most famous characters from this series: Lunar’s father, the boss of the Edomae Gang, who is a total Terminator parody. Seeing this huge, seemingly emotionless, Arnold Schwarzenegger-looking guy as an overprotective dad is hysterical.

- Nagasumi spends the start of the episode being menacingly stalked by Papa Edomae and trying to convince all his doubting friends that he really saw such a monster of a man. This would have worn thin if it’s all the episode was, but thankfully it switches gears pretty quickly.

- Mawari throttles Chimp. I fucking love you, Mawari!

- A long chase scene with Nagasumi and Kai running from Papa Edomae occurs, with them trying every possible hiding place, getaway route, or means of defense (Kai even pulls a Karin Kanzuki and tries to blow Papa Edomae up with a satellite beam), but nothing works. 

- So Kai’s dead, then? But he only just got introduced! 

- Sun comes in to protect Nagasumi, which isn’t a surprise. But Gozaburo coming in to protect them both is, and Nagasumi is astounded by his heroism as he holds his own against Papa Edomae in a brutal 1-on-1 battle that, like episode 8′s climax, seems very DBZ-inspired.

- Papa Edomae’s identity is revealed, he goes into a flaming dumpster and, in a parody of Terminator 2, gives a thumbs up while saying “Hasta La Vista, baby!” And that’s the end. Again, pretty abrupt. You would think we’d get more from Lunar at the end than we did.

- Another Masa Today omake, with Maki getting her comeuppance for that stunt she pulled two episodes ago: first locked in a cage and then flushed down the toilet! Damn, that’s harsh.

Episode 11: Armageddon

- Chimp Roshi is back! But damn it, he’s indulging in the perverted side of Roshi, which isn’t any different from how he usually acts! And now Kai is in on this creepy-ass behavior too?

- Lunar is devastated at having gained weight and immediately decides to go on a crash diet, which she drags Sun into, which in turn drags Gozaburo into it. Oh, this is going to be fun!

- Masa and Shark Fujishiro run their own mermaid telemarketing channel in their off time. It’s supposed to make funds for the Seto Gang, yet Gozaburo buys from it himself to help with Sun and Lunar’s exercising! And then Fujishiro buys from it as well! These people are idiots!

- Nagasumi accidentally drinks mermaid bottled water, which has a negative effect on humans...specifically, it makes him grow gigantic and turn into a mindless rampaging beast!

- Mawari sees a giant, naked Nagasumi and decides she’s overworking herself.

- Class Rep sees a giant, naked Nagasumi and decides she needs new glasses.

- It’s Kai to the rescue when he hits Nagasumi with a rocket ship and sends him to the moon before he can smash up the town. But then he takes it too far and launches missiles at the moon to kill his rival with. “Time for you to DIE, Nagasumi Michishio!” Gee-zuz, Kai! O_O

- Gozaburo is also hilariously ecstatic about this development, but poor Sun is devastated. It’s brief, but we actually see Lunar looking concerned and saying “Sun...” softly. Awww! 

- That Lance of Longilus-inspired mermaid spear actually ends up playing a pivotal role in the climax of the manga, but here its main use is for one of the funniest jokes in the series. Sun gives her dramatic speech and catchphrase amidst the falling sakura petals, gets ready to throw the spear at the moon...and then trips and falls down. And then Octopus Nishijima lands on the spear and breaks it. Needless to say, Sun’s mind breaks at the exact same time.

- But it’s OK, because order one spear from Masa’s TV channel and get a second free!

- The episode could have ended on a funny yet touching note with Sun and Nagasumi, but it fucks up at the last minute by having it end on more abuse given to poor Nagasumi from his awful parents. Child abuse is something that is extremely hard to make funny, and I’m sorry, this show does not manage it. Gozaburo is Nagasumi’s unwilling father-in-law, so him beating up Nagasumi is funny. Nagasumi’s actual father beating him up, otoh, is just aggravating.

[grouchythefish]

The 2010s, year by year.

I was inspired by @puzzled-dragon on twitter but but would rather do this here. I did not realize this decade sucked so hard. I put this under a read more because it’s long and sad af. I did not INTENTIONALLY make this depressing but thinking to each year these ARE the things I think of first. There’s a happy ending though, I promise. If this is too long, just read the first and last year and you’ll probably get the picture. (tw: depression, self-harm, death, suicidal thoughts, car accidents, sexual assault):

2010: Went on my first plane ride to visit my brother in San Francisco! Went to my first show that summer (warped tour - Sum 41!), then My Chemical Romance in December. Started volunteering with the Teen Advisory Board at the library. This was the year I first started realizing I had some mental health issues. My grandmother, who I was very close to, passed away. I was dealing with depression and self harming and learned I have ADHD. Started questioning my sexuality.

2011: The year of the January mystery evacuation! My strongest memories of this year are the summer. went to Warped Tour again (Motion City Soundtrack and Paramore!), joined Tumblr in July. I took 2 months of summer school by choice that year during which I read the Handmaid’s Tale and had a bit of a feminist awakening. Gwen and I started our band and started doing shows together. Started questioning my gender.

2012: Started IDing as asexual. Got into urbex for a little while. Graduated high school. Went to Warped Tour for the last time. Saw Mindless Self Indulgence and had my first serious panic attack. Started a visual arts degree at York. Lived on campus and lost a lot of weight REAL fast and got VERY sick. Now that I was 18 and no longer living with my parents I finally started getting treatment for my ADHD. Realized I was agender.

2013: Started playing quidditch and getting involved with York’s Harry Potter club (Ministry of Magic) where I met @ominouspotato and @puzzled-dragon​. Realized I was bisexual. Got my first job (tim hortons) then my first apartment (A complete disaster) My depression and anxiety got real bad towards the end of this year. I did go to a lot of shows though. (Fall Out Boy and Motion City Soundtrack come to mind) Started listening to WTNV not knowing that this would absolutely be a gateway podcast for me. 

2014: Moved in with my aunt Bev (not really my aunt) in Scarborough for the first half of the year then my parents for the second half. Bought my first binder. Became a Ministry of Magic exec. Saw WTNV live. Met my (now) ex at a PATD show in Feb, we started dating in Nov. Took the via rail for the first time.  Was sexually assaulted on my first date (I have never told anyone this until right now). Rode the go train a lot. Started trying to change my major to Digital Media.

2015: Moved back in with my aunt Bev and lived there for the whole year. (At the time I hated it but in retrospect she was real cool about a lot of stuff) Saw Motion City Soundtrack for the third and final time :’(. This is the year @ghirahims-left-shoe​ and I met Frank Iero and Gerard Way (who said my drawing were awesome!!!!!) Moved into the Forest Hill apartment (a mistake). Realized university was going nowhere for me. Saw WTNV live again.

2016: Dropped out of York and started at Seneca for Interactive Media Design. My (now) ex moved in with me and my roommates and shit hit the fan which resulted in us packing up and moving back to my home town (Cue the worst 3 years of my life) Got my G2 and started driving regularly, got in my first car accident. I worked 6 different jobs this year. My tax return was hell. I started getting really into podcasts this year.

2017: Started off real fucking depressed over the US election and somehow ended up turning to mbmbam to cope (a mutual on tumblr suggested it and I wish I remembered who so I could thank them for changing my life). Commuted to Toronto 5 days a week this whole year. Got engaged. Bought my first car in August (a beige impala). Had my first car written off in November when someone rear ended me on the 400. Bought my red elantra that I still have now. Joined the MBMBAM Gaming Server when I was at a very low point that fall and it was a god send - met some really really good friends though this. Joined roller derby. First realized I was in an abusive relationship.

2018: Got in another car accident. Quit my job in Toronto because I couldn’t handle the commute anymore after getting in 2 accidents in the same winter. Traveled to Detroit to see mbmbam live. Went through a YMCA employment program, which is how I got the most soulless job ever - but it was a short commute, looked great on my resume, and paid okay so I sucked it up. My depression and anxiety got worse and worse and I kept ignoring it, kept thinking if I just acted like things were fine they eventually would be (fake it til you make it is bullshit btw). Tried to leave my fiance a handful of times but never could. Tried and failed many many times to pass the roller derby minimum skills test. Started isolating myself more and more from my irl friends. My laptop kicked the bucket in August and I couldn’t afford to replace it.

2019 (Jan-Aug): In March I both got my dream job and went on my first big trip (New Orleans to visit my brother)! Got my first tattoo in July. My depression didn’t go away, though. I quit roller derby. A few doctor’s visits and many different ADHD medication trials later I found myself at my lowest point. I wasn’t sleeping but I also struggled to get out of bed. I felt like work was the only thing I could do so it was all I did and my anxiety only fueled this further. I thought that there was no one in the world who cared about me. I saw myself as a problem to the people around me. Something that needed to be removed. I was researching what pills I could overdose on and how many it would take and I started making real plans to kill myself in September. 

Spoiler: I didn’t! 

2019 (Sept-Dec): I saw a new doctor, took a break from work, and started on anti-depressants for the first time ever. Everything changed. I traveled to Buffalo to meet friends from the mbmbam gaming server and had online friends come to Barrie to visit me. I reconnected with my university friends after 2 years of self-isolation and we see each other regularly now. I went on my first solo trip to visit Gwen in BC and we are starting a podcast together (!!!). I found out my friends are also doing podcasts! I started working on having a better relationship with my siblings (we’re not there yet but making progress). I started coming out to people irl as agender for the first time and requesting they use my chosen name and pronouns. I replaced my laptop and started making art again! I applied for a bunch of zines and got into one! I finally worked up the strength to break up with my fiance for real. Just in these last few months I’ve made more new friends and spent more time with them than in the last 3 years put together. (If you are one of those new friends, I’m sorry if I’m weird or awkward, or say too much or too little or just the wrong things, I got used to not having friends and genuinely don’t remember how to be around people. Please be patient with me, I’m trying to get better.)

2020: I just had the first new years eve in a decade where I felt I was ending the year better than I started it. Things aren’t perfect (I still need my ex to move out, I still live in a town that makes me depressed, I’m still not out to my family, I’m still looking for a therapist) but for the first time in a long time, I’m looking forward to the future.

[plasticoveredfurniture]

𝖜𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

archive of our own account

𝖔𝖓𝖊 𝖘𝖍𝖔𝖙𝖘

𝔯𝔞𝔦𝔫.

ever since the break up, yoongi's days all look the same. rainy. gloomy. painful.

비가 오는 짙은 색 서울 그 위에 거긴 아름답지 못한 내가 날 보고 있어

-yoongi centric drabble -angst, unhealthy coping mechanisms, post break-up -basically just a day in the life of min yoongi 921 words

𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔩𝔡 𝔞𝔰 𝔰𝔢𝔢𝔫 𝔣𝔯𝔬𝔪 𝔥𝔬𝔪𝔢

what stories were left unheard and we'd be able to bring to everyone's attention if only walls could talk? we might never know, but that won't stop Taehyung from wondering.

-mild angst, mentions of terminal illness and hiv, original characters -tae moves into a new apartment and thinks about all of the things that happened in there and he'll never know of 477 words

恋の予感 𝔨𝔬𝔦 𝔫𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔨𝔞𝔫

恋の予感 (Koi No Yokan): The sense upon first meeting a person that the two of you are going to fall into love.

-vmin -not so loosely inspired by true events -long distance relationship, happy ending, fluff 850 words

[𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯] 𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰

ring noun a small circular band, typically of precious metal and often set with one or more gemstones, worn on a finger as an ornament or a token of marriage, engagement, or authority.

[Nobody really knows Namjoon and Yoongi are dating until one drops to one knee in front of them.]

-namgi -a very self indulgent proposal fic 704 words

[𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯] 𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔡𝔩𝔢𝔰𝔰

mindless adjective acting or done without justification and with no concern for the consequences.

[Hoseok and Jimin have known each other for what feels like a lifetime, and they have always been deeply, wholly, and carelessly in love with one another.]

-jihope -childhood friends to lovers, heavy angst, homophobia, mcd, terminal illness and hiv, i cried a lot writing this 832 words

[𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯] 𝔟𝔞𝔦𝔱

bait noun food placed on a hook or in a net, trap, or fishing area to entice fish or other animals as prey.

[Yoongi and Seokjin have always been very close, but the never had anything in common until Seokjin organises a fishing trip for the two of them.]

-yoonjin - "platonic" date, they go fishing, extremely self indulgent and fluffy as fuck 740 words

[𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯] 𝔣𝔯𝔢𝔢𝔷𝔢

freeze verb -be so cold that one feels near death (often used hyperbolically). -become suddenly motionless or paralysed with fear or shock.

[Whenever Jungkook is cold he always goes to Hoseok for warmth.]

-hopekook -kook is cold so hoseok cuddles with him. that's literally the plot. -fluff 716 words

[𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯] 𝔟𝔲𝔦𝔩𝔡

build verb -construct (something) by putting parts or material together. -make or become stronger or more intense.

[Taehyung and Jungkook have always built each other back up, but what happens when that isn't enough anymore? How far can you bend something before it breaks? How many times can you put something back together before it's destroyed for good?]

-taekook -angst. -ambiguous relationship status, possible cheating, substance abuse, unhealthy coping mechanisms 762 words

[𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯] 𝔥𝔲𝔰𝔨𝔶

husky adjective (of a voice or utterance) sounding low-pitched and slightly hoarse.

[Jimin fell in love with Yoongi's voice before they even knew each other.]

-yoonmin -college au, strangers to friends to lovers -fluff 825 words

[𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯] 𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔡

enchanted adjective -placed under a spell; bewitched. -filled with delight; charmed.

[Seokjin is a practicing witch, but living in a world were people don't believe in his craft makes it hard for him to talk about it even with those he loves the most.]

-platonic taejinmin -modern witchcraft, fluff, self indulgent as always 723 words

[𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯] 𝔣𝔯𝔞𝔦𝔩

frail adjective (of a person) weak and delicate.

[Jimin has a problem with food. Jungkook notices, but it's fine. Until it isn't.]

-jikook -heavy angst, eating disorders 885 words

[𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯] 𝔰𝔴𝔦𝔫𝔤 

swing noun -a seat suspended by ropes or chains, on which someone may sit and swing back and forth. -a style of jazz or dance music with a flowing but vigorous rhythm.

[The razzle dazzle of jazz is fascinating, but sometimes it makes people do careless things and not knowing why something is wrong doesn't make it any better in other people's eyes. Taehyung and Jimin learn that at their own expense. They also learn that things change with time and that family isn't defined by blood.]

-vmin -past setting, period typical homophobia, jazz clubs and gay bars, drag queens -angst and a bit of fluff 2039 words 

[𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯] 𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔫

pattern noun a particular way in which something is done, is organized, or happens.

[Jungkook is the younger brother Namjoon never had. Or so he thinks.]

-namkook -childhood friends au -slight tention, fluff with a happy ending 1845 words

[𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯] 𝔰𝔫𝔬𝔴

snow noun -atmospheric water vapour frozen into ice crystals and falling in light white flakes or lying on the ground as a white layer. verb -mislead or charm (someone) with elaborate and insincere words.

[Jung Hoseok is in love with Min Yoongi. The feeling is not quite mutual.]

-yoonseok -unrequited love, friends with benefits dynamics, deception, angst with no happy ending 483 words

[𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯] 𝔡𝔯𝔞𝔤𝔬𝔫

dragon noun a mythical monster like a giant reptile. In European tradition the dragon is typically fire-breathing and tends to symbolize chaos or evil, whereas in East Asia it is usually a beneficent symbol of fertility, associated with water and the heavens.

[A story of a dragon tattoo and a family not bound by blood, but choice.]

-yoongi centric, platonic ot7 -tattoo artists au -everyone is lgbt+, includes trans characters -lots of fluff 1513 words

[𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯] 𝔞𝔰𝔥

ash noun the powdery residue left after the burning of a substance.

[Taehyung has been the most powerful person in all of Daegu for years now. All it takes to make him falter is a baby-faced journalist named Min Yoongi.]

-taegi -kind of a banana fish au (ash lynx!tae, eiji okamura!yoongi) -organised crime au, violence, guns, all that great stuff -angst, but this has a happy ending -some fluff here and there 1941 words

[𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯] 𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔤𝔯𝔬𝔴𝔫

overgrown adjective grown too large or beyond its normal size.

[Jungkook finds it hard to leave his feelings for Yoongi in the past. When he decides to stop trying to push them down he finds his chest is exploding with all the roses he had kept from blooming for years.]

-yoonkook -childhood friends, unrequited love-it gets better and then so much worse, i'm sorry 1292 words

[𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯] 𝔩𝔢𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔡

legend noun a traditional story sometimes popularly regarded as historical but not authenticated.

[Jimin is a fox in a city where people think they can get away with anything if they have enough money. Little do they know that no one stands a chance against the fox. No one except for Kim Seokjin.]

-jinmin -roughly inspired by Sharleena 's UKIYO -gumiho!jimin, brothels, mentions of murder and police corruption 2950 words

[𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯] 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔡

wild noun a natural state or uncultivated or uninhabited region.

[Taehyung and Seokjin share a summer of beautiful romance, but fall and winter aren't as kind to them.]

-taejin -summer camp au -fluff and angst, homophobia, domestic violence, alcoholism, mentions of drug use, long distance relationships 1825 words

[𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯] 𝔬𝔯𝔫𝔞𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱

ornament noun a thing used or serving to make something look more attractive but usually having no practical purpose.

[It's Jungkook's first Christmas away from his family and his hyungs want to make it special.]

-jungkook centric, platonic ot7 -christmas au, just lots of fluff 502 words

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖋𝖎𝖈𝖘

𝔦𝔱 𝔱𝔞𝔨𝔢𝔰 𝔞 𝔟𝔦𝔱 𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔢 (𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔲)

yoongi moves to crown his dream of opening his own flower shop and makes a home in six boys he meets unexpectedly.

-flower shop and tattoo parlour au -taegikook -slow burn, a bit of angst, lots of fluff

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔬𝔫𝔢 - 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔴𝔞𝔫𝔫𝔞 𝔣𝔦𝔫𝔡 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢, 𝔴𝔢𝔩𝔩 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔨𝔫𝔬𝔴 𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔠𝔦𝔱𝔶 𝔦𝔰

a beginning.

-very fluff -there’s alcool drinking, in case it makes some of y’all uncomfortable -drunken banter 3536 words

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔴𝔬 - 𝔴𝔢'𝔯𝔢 𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔧𝔲𝔰𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔞𝔪𝔢, 𝔴𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔞 𝔰𝔥𝔞𝔪𝔢

in which they become part of each other('s routine)

-more fluff -just,,, so much fluff -mentions of abuse -backstories explained in this chapter 2851 words

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔯𝔢𝔢 - 𝔡𝔬𝔫'𝔱 𝔣𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔦𝔫 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔪𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱

a not-so-platonic valentine's day date and a birthday party. alternatively, yoongi loves his family.

-valentine's day and a little not-so-platonic date -bogum is introduced -plus hobi's birthday -a lot of fluff -so much fluff, seriously 4220 words

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔣𝔬𝔲𝔯 - 𝔦 𝔥𝔞𝔱𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔨 𝔞𝔟𝔬𝔲𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔰𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔟𝔬𝔡𝔶 𝔢𝔩𝔰𝔢

a home, warmth, and the colour pink.

-lots of descriptions in the first half -very fluff, very domestic -ot7 get drunk, what's new -bogum is a **** 5439 words 

[chonideno]

i’m a new writer on ao3 and i’ve been feeling a little discouraged. i was wondering, did it take you long to get where you are in terms of popularity and skill? and do you have any tips for new writers?

Hi! I hope you understand how hard of a question it is to answer, though I’m not blaming you at all, [grandma voice] I was the same at your age. Writing is hard, and understanding what makes good writing is hard, and understanding what makes your writing good is hard. Nothing I can tell you will sound new to you - write for yourself, be patient, have fun, popularity is overrated, yada yada yada. 

This being said, there are lessons I keep having to re-learn every 3 months or so. I’ve been writing fanfiction for too many years and I still forget some lessons - not that the words disappear from my memory, but there are some things you only learn through experience and I tend to forget them every so often, until I go through yet another learning experience. Here’s a list of things I wish I was prepared to learn when I started:

don’t be afraid of being bad. I know, you don’t want to be bad, that’s why you’re asking about how to get better, and how much time it takes to be popular. But being bad is the foundation of your experience. We all started as terrible writers, and some of us are still there after years of practice - and it’s fine! You have to truly be okay with the idea that you’re going to suck, too! And no amount of experience will ever protect you from that. Being bad happens to everyone, and it’s great. Your writing is going to suck - and what about it? Your writing is going to be terrible, and? What is anyone going to do about it, if you want to shove it into their faces? Nothing, that’s what. The more you write, the less often these moments will happen (but as I said earlier, they still will  happen, and they’ll still sting like hell) so keep at it. Don’t be afraid to be the worst at writing, because if you don’t get this stinky stuff out of your system you’ll never get to the good part.

grieve your Ideas. It’s not the first time I mention it I think, but try a thing: think of your Idea right now, your beautiful prefect story that is just waiting for you to write it down, and it has all of these incredible scenes and this intensity and this emotion and it’s going to be great - now let it go. Your Idea with a capital I is a mirage. No matter how hard you try, you’ll never get 100% there. You can get real close, and that’s where the satisfaction lies, the farthest you go from your outline and the closest you get to the Idea, the better your fic. But perfection is unattainable. The finished product will not be a copy of that Idea you had in your head - worse! The finished product will look nothing like your Idea to your readers, who are not in your head, and it also won’t look like what you think it looks like. Because, and that’s very important, writing is a product of 1) the person who lays its eyes on it (whether it’s the author or the reader) and 2) your writing style and what influences it, the Muse, the Spark, the Whatever people like to chase. No story will look alike to different people. So forget about your Idea - it’s never getting born. It’ll have a cousin, so get ready to love this one instead.

learn about your content creation cycle, and be patient with yourself. You will never be a perfect machine. Writing blocks will happen. Every so often I feel like that’s it, that’s the last fic I was ever going to write, and these feelings are sincere and true. I truly believe it to my core. And then writing happens again, and woops, there I go posting another fic. It’s a pattern. It happens. I answered asks about this here, here and here. Be patient. Learn about your own creation process. You’re not your own enemy.

popularity is, ultimately, meaningless. I know how this sounds, but please bear with me here. Popularity is not correlated with quality in any way. It is valid to chase popularity, but you have to do it separately from other goals. You can’t think “I’m going to write a really beautiful fic and it’ll become popular” because there’s no guarantee it will. You can’t think “I’m going to pour all of my emotions in it so it’ll be raw and people are going to love it” because that’d be wrong again. Popularity is a function of timing, marketing skills, what’s currently trendy in your fandom niche and dumb luck. Some of my fics did high numbers, but I have no idea what led them to do that. I’d even argue that between these few fics, not two got a lot of hits for the same reason. Most of the fics I have written over the years have not made a ripple, and I will, inevitably, disappear from everyone’s radar soon. And what is popularity anyway? Hits? Kudos? Kudos/hits ratio? Digging in the numbers depresses me. You want to be known, this much I understand, but I was on this pedestal for a bit and yeah, I’ll admit it’s nice, but if you don’t enjoy your writing or if you don’t like your own output, none of it will make sense, and it’ll only slow down your progress as a writer.

it’s all about you. It’s really all about you. In many ways. You must want to write what you write. You must write for yourself first, and a love letter to a character or a trope is a good way to do that. You should write what you know - not the situations you know, but the emotions you know, the sentimental truth (if it applies to what you write at least - pwp probably doesn’t need it lmao). You might look back on your previous works and think “wow, this is literally about me”. It’s okay to be self-obsessed in writing and art in general. Who else is gonna do that for you?

you don’t need to fit a mold. I know the temptation is great, especially if you’re starting and you’re trying to figure out what people like so you can make a name for yourself or something, but you truly, truly don’t have to write things you don’t like. there are different types of writers, and you might change types over time as well.This Kind Of Writing is real popular but doesn’t fit you? Then don’t write it. Don’t force yourself to write things just because you think people will like it, it will truly not help. At best you’ll end up confused about what you want out of your writing, at worst it’ll disgust you from writing for a time. I have to re-learn this lesson over and over, and every time it rings more true: write what you want. If it’s horrible poetry, do it. If it’s the next 500k sci-fi reincarnation soulmates enemies to friends to lovers au, do it. If it’s sharp one-shots, or mindless porn, or studies of family dynamics, or one-dimensional fluff, do it. You don’t have to reach imaginary standards either - remember, you have the right to suck by anyone’s standards! You can be the most stereotypical ooc coffee shop au author ever, or write chat fics, or indulge in character x reader fics, and what are people going to do about it? Break into your house and steal your keyboard? No!! They’re gonna do nothing!! No amount of joking about these kinds of writing has the power to stop you!! You want to pretend you’re the next literature Nobel and you’re going to revolutionize prose? Do it! Wherever you fall on the spectrum, take what is rightfully yours. And if you don’t know where to go yet, gosh how I wish I were you - the world is your oyster, so try! Read, and think, and scribble and plot and delete half of what you’ve written, experiment, figure out what makes you tingle, what’s your style, what’s your favorite tropes and genres. You can always let go and change. You have a universe of possibilities ahead of you, and don’t let things like popularity hold you back! I’m really excited to hear you’re starting. It’s all adventure from now on.

Sometimes it’s not that deep, but sometimes it truly is.

So I’ve been writing fanfic for 7 years even though I took 1.5 years of hiatus, dropped a fic then stopped writing for another 8 months, I’ve written 21 fics for 3 fandoms, I’ve been invisible and popular and right in the middle and I don’t know how to make popularity happen, and I don’t know how to get better as a writer - I don’t even know if my writing has improved in any way. All I know is that my experience as a writer has improved. I know what I’m doing now. I know what I want. It’ll happen to you too.

[proserpine-in-phases]

@nachttour tagged me in a writing question thing!

1) is there a story you’re holding off on writing for some reason?

uh yeah there’s like, several. some of them are better developed than other but a lot of the reason I’ve been holding off on writing them just comes down to feeling inadequate due to my own limited experience with relationships and feelings of complete inadequacy. it’s hard to write an epic romancu when I’m aromantic as fuck and have a hard time conceptualizing what those feelings might be like to experience, for example, or like, I want the story to be funny but I feel like I’m not actually a very funny person?

also I always feel like I need to do more research. I get stuck on the research phase about 85% of the time haha

2) what work of yours, if any, are you the most embarrassed about existing?

man I am embarrassed by MYSELF existing, so  idk probably all of it when you get right down to it

3) what order do you write in? front of book to back? chronological? favorite scenes first? something else?

it seems to vary a bit. sometimes I just power through start to finish, but sometimes I need to write the ending first to remind myself of what I’m shooting for. sometimes I just gotta write some random scenes in the middle before I forget what they are and have to figure out where they’ll go later.

considering the longest thing I’ve managed to finish comes in at about 12 k  I don’t know if I have enough data to really come up with a firm answer for this one though. from what I can tell, it really does seem like I start at the beginning and go for a bit, write the end, and try to connect the two with occasional random middle bits getting written out of order and a general feeling of “I’ll fix it in post” carrying me through

4) favorite character you’ve written

probably Samantha Traynor. she’s such a fucking nerd and I love her. it was surprisingly easy to write for her once I got started. at least I THINK I did a good job writing her, I have no actual idea haha

5) character you were most surprised to end up writing

I’ve written TWO mass effect fics featuring Samara as a main character and I have no idea how this happened or why because she’s about in the middle when it comes to my most to least favorite mass effect characters list

6) something you would go back and change in your writing that it’s too late/complicated to change now

there’s a couple of fics I wrote for fic exchanges that I kinda wish I could take back and turn into something else because I love the concept but feel guilty about idk, using as a springboard because the original is a gift, or something. it feels ehhhhhhhhh disingenuous to continue them when the gift is supposed to be a singular and self contained unit

for example, oh man I would love to take that vrisrezi space pirates au someplace, but I don’t know if I should because the fic itself is a gift, complete, and so forth. 

plus I hate the way I run out of steam about 4 chapters into everything. I would like to not run out of motivation please

7) when asked, are you embarrassed or enthusiastic to tell people that you write?

considering my output is so low I barely consider myself a writer at all tbh.

but yes, embarrassed. I hope to god the three people I know irl who follow me just like. never see those posts haha

8) favorite genre to write

space adventure! and lately? mysteries even though I have no FUCKING idea why or even how to write them, which is why I have at least three projects stalled out on me haha

9) what, if anything, do you do for inspiration?

I read a lot, mostly. sometimes I stare at a wall. or play minesweeper. 

also when I’m doing something fairly mindless sometimes my mind wanders and I hit something. 

oh and music. music is great

10) write in silence or with background noise? with people or alone?

I usually need music, mood music preferable, instrumental so the lyrics don’t distract me. generally I prefer to not be around people when I write, though a public setting is also fun to write in. I’m too distractable to actually get any done though, so I usually end up just looking like a tool with their notebook out if I try to write in a coffee shop or whatever tho, haha

11) what aspect of your writing do you think has most improved since you started writing?

I think writing fanfic has really helped me figure out what it means to write in character. also I think I’m starting to get better at balancing dialogue versus narration? at least a little bit

12) your weaknesses as an author

the inability to actually finish shit. 

unwillingness to approach emotions that make me feel uncomfortable. 

the fact that I often approach writing a character with the thought of what I would do in a situation rather than what the character would do (which is why writing fanfiction is helping me with that haha)

coming up with plots that lend themselves well to longer stuff

13) your strengths as an author

pretty good at dialogue

when it comes to my own shit, pretty good at coming up with interesting fantasy worlds (I think they’re interesting at least)

I’ve got a pretty firm grasp overall just the nuts and bolts of writing: I mean I tutored English in college for fuck’s sake I know how to write a grammatically correct run on sentence when I want to 

14) do you make playlists for your current wips?

not really

15) why did you start writing?

I wanted to know what happened next

16) are there any characters who haunt you?

not really? I mean, there are specific character TYPES that’ll get me every time, though, like the happy go lucky person who has to learn what pain is but still come out the other side a LOT worse for wear but not completely broken (think Tasslehoff Burrfoot, or perhaps less obscure Vash the Stampede) but I wouldn’t say they haunt me, per say

17) if you could give your fledgling author self any advice, what would it be?

don’t be afraid to be self indulgent. you’ll enjoy it more and who the fuck cares, anyway? people who’ll make fun of you for doing what you love are ass holes

18) were there any works you read that affected you so much that it influenced your writing style? what were they?

If I’m honest I can’t really say what influences my writing style, if I even have one. Mostly all I can do is list off my favorite authors because I’m pretty sure they all have something to do with it. 

so let’s just do that I guess.  when I was a teenager I tended to find a single author and just read through all their works before moving on, and these are the big ones that stand out:

Connie Willis, Anne McCaffrey, Steven Brust and Ursula K. Le Guin. Connie Willis for the humor she includes in almost all her writing, Anne McCaffrey because I STILL spend an inordinate amount of time thinking about Pern. She had a real skill for coming up with both great characters and great settings, even if what she did with them, and also her inability to keep continuity were less good. Steven Brust introduced me to the idea of relating to morally reprehensible characters at an alarmingly young age. Ursula K. Le Guin, I just love her. No idea if it’s actually done anything GOOD to my writing but she gives me something to aspire to.

I read just. a ridiculous amount of fantasy and science fiction as a kid, the genres as a whole without a doubt influence the type of shit I end up writing. also in seventh grade I mainlined dragonlance, just the whole damn thing

later in college I got really into Margaret Atwood. her focus on female characters and narrative just is really great.  

then I went through a depressive phase in my late 20s and just exclusively read Julia Quinn, Joanna Lindsey, Sabrina Jeffreys and Eloisa James, and that was IT. so I’m pretty sure my foray into the romance genre is what makes me honestly prefer povs limited to two or three characters  hey, reading romance novels also lead me to the realization that I’m aromantic so \o/ I guess

19) when it comes to more complicated narratives, how do you keep track of outlines, characters, development, timeline, ect.?

I outline and then give up lol

20) do you write in long sit-down sessions or in little spurts?

little spurts until something grabs me and makes me marathon. usually that’s a deadline, but sometimes it’s also inspiration 

21) what do you think when you read over your older work?

mostly just holy shit I can’t believe I wrote this! sometimes that’s bad, sometimes it’s good. I can’t really tell if I’m good at divorcing myself from my writing enough to give me perspective on it, to tell the truth, because for a good lot of it, I still think it’s pretty good so ???

22) are there any subjects that make you uncomfortable to write?

it’s hard for me to let a character be embarrassed by the dumb shit they do. I don’t want them to do dumb shit because of it, which makes it hard for the character to have shit to grow and learn from.

23) any obscure life experiences that you feel have helped your writing?

I’m pretty sure my own issues with having and experiencing some emotions makes its way into the stuff I choose to write about, especially when it comes to the original stuff (I have. at LEAST three different plot outlines that involve characters literally losing the ability to experience emotions and having to find a way to heal or gain it back haha)  

also the fic I wrote about the box ghost is literally just about what it’s like to work in a factory haha

24) have you ever become an expert on something you previously knew nothing about, in order to better a scene or a story?

listen. 

yes.

I fucking. LOVE. research. 

honestly this is the stage where I most often get lost in the weeds, distracted by my own need to know more

25) copy/paste a few sentences or a short paragraph that you’re particularly proud of

“He was not the knight Casey taught him to be, but he was close enough for government work“ remains the single best pun I’ve ever written

tagging: @anthropwashere @inktail @manicpixiesdreamdragon if you guys are up for it!

[fangfucked-a]

NAME: Angel Michael Graham. ALIAS: Francis Elijah Carter. NICKNAME: Frankie, Fran, Franny, asshole.

AGE: Twenty eight. BIRTHDAY: August 12th, 1990. ZODIAC: Leo. BIRTH PLACE: Charleston, South Carolina. CURRENT LOCATION: L.A, California. GENDER: Non-binary. PRONOUNS: He/him, they/them, she/her. Really does not give a shit, uses masculine pronouns because he presents very masculine and it's just easier for most people. SEXUALITY: Bisexual, biromantic. SPECIES: Vampire. POWERS: Enhanced senses ( though taste has completely shifted, blood has several different tastes depending on person, human foods taste like copper ), enhanced strength, compulsion ( mind control ), accelerated healing, limited immortality, supernatural detection to a certain degree. He can smell someone's not human or catch onto a specific scent through their blood if he's encountered their kind before, but he doesn't always know what someone is. CONS: Sunlight will cause him to burn if he's not wearing his cloaking ring though even with it on, he's sensitive to sunlight. Needs blood for survival, if he goes too long without it his body will begin to shut down; not so much to kill him but he won't be able to do anything until he gets blood. RELIGION: Christian. Raised with that faith and he still holds it very dear to him despite constantly going against what he believes in. OCCUPATION: Hitman, uses baker as a cover. LANGUAGES KNOWN: English and some Spanish. ACCENT: American. VOICE CLAIM: Dan Stevens, specifically his accent in The Ticket. FACE CLAIM: Joseph Gilgun, Dan Stevens. Just depends on who I'm in the mood to use tbh. EYE COLOR: Bright blue. HAIR COLOR: Naturally dirty blond, dyed his hair brown. It's fading so it's a bit of a mix between the two colors.. STYLE: Short, just kind of a mess. Flat and not styled. HEIGHT: 6'6". TATTOOS: Two solid black bands on his wrist, a twisted Cheshire cat that takes up most of his left leg, an arrow on his right arm, 'die with memories, not dreams' in typewriter font on his left forearm, a galaxy design on his left hand, the word FUCK on his right knuckles, a tree that takes up his back and under that tree is the name Alex in red cursive font. Never bring up the name to him. He pretty much has small random tattoos all over his body that would take me too long to list, almost anywhere you can think of has some sort of tattoo. PIERCINGS: A helix piercing on his left ear. SCARS: He has several scattered across his body from the years of constant abuse, however most are actually covered up by his tattoos. The only ones that are really noticeable anymore are one by his right eye that leads from the inner corner to the top of his cheek bone, one on his right hand that goes from his knuckles to the top of his wrist, and one going down his chest from the heart surgery he had as a child. It's mostly covered by his tree tattoo, but if you look close you can see a large scar of a cross shape on his back. CLOTHES: Surprisingly colorful. Wears a lot of skinny jeans, douchey tank tops, high tops that vary in colors. He tries to avoid wearing dark colors unless he's on a job, then he'll do whatever he can to remain unseen or unnoticed. DISTIGUISHING LOOKS: Tall figure, bright eyes, and his fangs are always out. LABEL: The dirtbag, the addict, the conard. POSITIVE TRAITS: Adaptable, fiercely loyal, loving, clever, a damn good survivor. NEGATIVE TRAITS: Impulsive, obsessive, egotistical, selfish, just an asshole tbh. GOALS: Really wants to kill Alex and give her a taste of even a little bit of what he endured through their relationship. Also to keep his family strong and knit together. FEARS: Alex, abandonment, failure, grief, and spiders. HOBBIES: Music is a huge factor in his life that he's trying to get back into and learn even more. Cooking is also a big hobby of his as well as his career, he enjoys video games from time to time, and he loves anything social. He just likes meeting and speaking to people. HABITS: Smokes heavily, bounces his leg, chews on his lip even though he can't retract his fangs. FAVORITE WEATHER: He loves the cold which is why he thrived in New York during the colder seasons, but now that he lives in California, it makes him want to Die(tm) FAVORITE MUSIC: Rap and pop tend to be his most listened to, but he can listen to most things! His favorite band is Mindless Self Indulgence. FAVORITE COLOR: Blue. FAVORITE MOVIES: He's not a movie person, he doesn't really watch them ever. He does however love Boondock Saints and will watch it continuously so he tends to watch action or romance if he does watch anything. FAVORITE SPORTS: Also not a sports person. He knows a bit about baseball, but that's mostly due to his brother's involvement back in school. PHYSICAL: None. He's very healthy despite not looking like it. MENTAL: ADHD that was diagnosed at eight. BPD and OCD were diagnosed at fifteen and seventeen. PTSD is undiagnosed. He really only has a handle on his ADHD but he's actively trying to better himself nowadays and get a better grip on his other disorders. ALLERGIES: None. SLEEPING HABITS: Doesn't sleep much. He doesn't need much anyway, but he also suffers from nightmares that will keep him up for hours after and spike his paranoia. So he tries to avoid sleeping as much as possible. EXERCISE HABITS: Occasionally goes for runs because it's good for him to clear his mind, but other than that not much exercising. His body won't change and he's already supernaturally strong so he doesn't see the point. EATING HABITS: When it comes to blood, he uses his hits as his main source for meals, but he'll also eat human food to keep up appearances. SOCIAL: Practically the definition of an extrovert. BODY: Has some muscle, but still pretty lean and doesn't look exactly healthy. ADDICTIONS: Nicotine. DRUG USE: Recovering heroin addict ( going on three years clean ) so he stays away from everything at this point. ALCOHOL: Recovering alcoholic ( one year clean ) so none anymore. MOTHER: Meghan Graham. FATHER: Nathaniel Taylor ( birth father ), Jacob Graham ( adoptive father ) SIBLINGS: A twin brother named Abel and a younger sister named Celestina, though he has no idea she exists since she was born after his disappearance. PETS: A tabby named Patches and an Egyptian Mau named Gamora. PARTNER: Faolán Mackenzie. wife. CHILDREN: Nova & Sirius Mackenzie.

Francis' backstory contains heavy mentions of abuse, murder, heroin addiction, and alcoholism.

THE BEGINNING OF THE END

He wasn't always like this. So monstrous, so violent, so bloodthirsty. Nobody starts off as the villain of the story, sometimes they're made that way, and in Angel's case, that's exactly what happened. He starts off mild mannered, polite, a drive to do something great in the world, and an aspiration to fall in love. He witnessed the world through rose colored glasses, so when he meets what he sees as the perfect girl, it's easy to ignore the red flags about her. The snide comments, the little lies, the almost a little too possessive behavior --- he just shrugged it off because they're small compared to the good he sees in her. Alex gave him the love he desired, the attention he craved, and somehow always knew what to say to have him as putty in her hands. Never mind that she's older or that he has to keep her a secret from his family.

Eighteen and she forces him to move to New York with him. He wasn't sure why he said yes, but there was an overwhelming force that made him agree, so one night he packed up a bag and he was gone. Without a word to anyone. It's not long after the move that she begins to show her true colors, the violent tendencies, the controlling behavior ---- it was starting to scare him. His life became walking on eggshells, watching his every word and action around her, and he was starting to become numb to it all. She teaches him how to fight, claims it's because he should know self defense, but he's not sure if it's not just another excuse to hit him.

It gets worse with time. The physical violence was more often, but she had also shattered any resemblance of his self esteem. He was numb, apathetic, and living a life that revolved around her to try and save himself. He wanted to leave, call his family for help, anything ---- but he couldn't. There was that pull again, the one that made him do whatever she told him. The supposed love of his life had also become the scariest thing in it. He falls into bad habits, alcohol and drugs, anything to try and make things seem a little more bearable. If he was too numb then maybe it wouldn't hurt so much, maybe he wouldn't be so god damn scared, right? His life had become survival day in and day out, he wasn't alive anymore. She had drained him of anything he once had.

DEATH

Then the dreaded day came, four days after his birthday, just like when she took him away, she decides to end his life. He comes home from the bar and immediately she slams him up against the wall. He doesn't even register what she's saying, something about how she was waiting to do this for a long time, something about a game, and something about a weapon. She forces a metallic liquid down his throat and the one thing that properly processes is the pain he feels in his abdomen. The feeling of the knife twisting in his gut and the nightmare fueled grin across her face as he realizes what's happening. He was going to die and it was really going to be at the hand of her.

That's the day Angel Graham died, but it's not the end of his story.

BECOMING A MONSTER

He wakes up in a place he doesn't recognize, his hand chained to some rusty pipe. His head's pounding, teeth throbbing, and the tears couldn't be held back. The pain was unbearable, everything was so much louder than it was before, the light on his eyes made him want to tear them out, and the sudden hunger made him want to scream. He begged for mercy, death would have been kinder than whatever the hell he was feeling now. His path may have been lost at a young age, but he never imagined he deserved any of what he was experiencing. Alex shuts him up quickly, forcing more blood down his throat and covering his mouth with tape. He thinks he might be in hell, but then she explains what's happening. She changed him into something more than human, a vampire. A fucking vampire.  It's terrifying, panic quickly sets in, but he realizes there's not much he can do but succumb to whatever she has planned.

The years leading up to his death had all been setting it up. Breaking him down to the point where he didn't know who he was without her, the dependency and loyalty to her despite her cruelness, the fighting training, it was all for her. She made him into her own sick little game. Pushing him to see how far she would go, making him into a weapon for her own amusement. The bloodshed follows quickly after his turn as she teaches him how to revel into the chaos. Any sense of his human self had begun to fade away. He was just everything she wanted him to be. A violent monster, one that would attack on command, one that would do anything to please her.

 MOVING ON  

After his twenty fourth birthday, he starts to come to terms with everything. He starts to finally see past the lies and manipulation, thoughts finally fighting against her commands. This wasn't the life he wanted to lead. The compulsion she had over him was gone, he was fucking tired of it and he didn't have to sit through the abuse anymore. So he packs up one night and leaves without a word, much like he had with his own family. He&'s not done with her, but he knows that the state he was in wasn't enough to go against her. She's older and much much stronger than him. He'd have to train more, make a goal to get even.

His powers and charm get him by for a while. It's difficult at first, he's homeless but it was better than staying with his abuser. He gets a new identity to hide himself so Francis Elijah Carter is created. He's not innocent by any means, his mind still corrupted and twisted by Alex, the violence is still a part of him now, the love for chaos. He wasn't ashamed of what he had become, he reveled in it, but he would be damned if he remained a victim. He uses his skills to start killing for cash, figures a good meal and some decent cash could get him by. He even gets clean and sober after he finds himself a new family, one that treats him a hell of a lot better than the relationship he had been in for the last few years. Life's not bad, he's made it his own again, but he knows he's coming for her head as soon as he gets the chance.

[corpsesurfing]

How Lenore ended up missing the good time cult orgy and other character things I’ve been neglecting

This accidentally got pretty long. I don’t normally post any writing but it’s gotta go in the tag. 

Lenore had been distracted all day. She had seemed more and more spaced out than usual these days. She frequently seemed distant and lost in her thoughts. She was also often found sporting an irritated look on her face, as if she were desperately trying to ignore a bothersome person; in fact it was a look very reminiscent of any one who had to interact with the team’s Goliath, but since Oog hadn’t been seen in days, there was something else bothering her.

The voices were getting louder. Lenore sipped some of Keylassa’s ale as she and the rest of her companions sat around the campfire trying to come up with a strategy for the Behir situation they’d gotten themselves into. She did her best to contribute to the conversation without looking for the sources of sounds no one else would hear. She didn’t want to give her party a reason to lose faith in her, especially after the “being turned into a stone bat” incident.

Generally the sounds were unintelligible whispers and mumbles, or the mindless background chatter of a room full of people that she could filter out with little effort but occasionally they would grow louder and harder to ignore. She didn’t think she would mind so much if they ever had anything helpful to say, but the Great Old One she had made her pact with seemed to enjoy giving her nothing, or worse, the sounds of her fears and tormented past. Sometimes Lenore could drown them out with spirits, (the alcoholic variety) but ever since her encounter with the mysterious lady and her dragon, the noise was becoming unbearable. No. It would take something a little stronger than alcohol to get these under control again.

Lenore sighed as the team started to wrap up their strategy meeting. They had some ideas but no matter how she looked at it, this Behir was going to be hard to deal with. Even if they managed to outsmart it, the thing was powerful enough to just destroy them on a whim. She couldn’t afford to be distracted these days, they already had more than enough to deal with.  

She downed the rest of her drink quickly and started to walk away from the fire. The rest of the group had started to set up a makeshift tent that they could all sleep in but Lenore elected to try to set up a hammock in between two trees (half because someone them told her she “didn’t have the skills to make one”.) She wasn’t actually able to but that was only because the store didn’t have enough canvas for all of them. Cursing this bloody small-town life, she simply laid her bedroll on the ground and used her rolled up cloak as a pillow. She gazed up at the stars as she often did as the void around them called to her. On this particular night, the voices seemed to be repeating the words of the dragon woman as well as the usual incoherent whispers. A sick feeling rose in her stomach as she considered her options. *sigh* Option. There was really only one thing that could silence the voices.

“You take on so much while distancing yourself from him”

Lenore stood up, disguising herself as best she could with the boring villager clothes she picked up. She glanced around camp, making sure none of her party would notice her departure and when she saw no one was outside paying attention, She stealthed herself and set off down the road.

“Would he be proud of how far you’ve risen from the ashes?”

“It’s funny,” she thought as she made it to the outskirts of Red Larch “how the only thing I can do to carry on with my life brings me closer to the things I’m trying to leave behind.”

She laid down on the side of the road, gazing at the stars while she waited. “You sure have a fucked up sense of humor.” She said aloud to her unfathomable patron even if it wasn’t listening. “Giving me a way to alleviate the cost of these powers but only by indulging in these impulses I’ve been trying to kill for so long. I guess it makes sense for a being that feeds on chaos. The internal turmoil of us mortals must be a tasty treat for you.” She laughed.

The ever-present voices grew to a dull roar and with a dark grin, Lenore pulled the hood of her cloak down to obscure her face as she heard a wagon approaching. Probably a merchant or farmer coming into town with goods to sell the next day.

Lenore laid very still and listened. Just when the wagon almost reached her, she heard a man exclaim, slow his horses and jump out of the driver’s seat. She heard his landing and his hurried footsteps as he presumable rushed to help this poor woman collapsed on the road.

“Poor bastard” Lenore thought. “This is what you get for trying to be a decent person these days I guess.”

“Oh gods” the man said as he knelt down beside her. “Are you alright? What happened?” His horse started to whinny nervously. The man started to reach for her hood. Lenore stirred purposefully and weakly stopped his hand.

“Wait” she said in a small voice. “I’ll be fine. I just need to get to Red Larch. There’s someone there who can help me.” Internally, Lenore laughed self-deprecatingly. She had gotten pretty good at playing the helpless victim.  How many times have her new friends or the handsome druid picked her up off the ground after a particularly harsh beating? Too many times.

“Well let me take you there. You don’t seem to be in any condition to walk” the man said taking her hand. She sat up as the man put her arm around his neck and helped her up.

“Thank you” Lenore said quietly. They hobbled closer to the wagon. “I’m so very sorry for this” she clutched the man tighter.

“It’s really no trouble” he said. “We’ll get you help soon. You’ll be ok Miss.” And then he gasped as Lenore sank her teeth into his neck and inhaled.

………...............................................................................................................

Lenore stood over the man collapsed at her feet, feeling invigorated and refreshed. She didn’t take enough blood to kill him but he’d be out for a while.

“I am really sorry you know” she said wiping the blood from her mouth. “Someone will find you soon and help you out probably. I’ve gotta be at the top of my game over the next few days to save this town” She dusted off her cloak and gave the unconscious man a little wave as she turned around. “I kinda hope I don’t see you again to be honest but I do hope you have a lovely rest of your life.” Lenore set off back towards her party’s camp with a spring in her step. She had a nagging worry in the back of her mind. Some part of her thought she was bringing the victim closer to death every time she drank. Like it was getting harder to stop. She buried that fear though as she walked towards Red Larch in the pale morning light. Besides, she had other happier things to think about. Like for the first time in a long time, the voices were silent.

[casualarsonist]

Watch_Dogs 2 review (PC)

I do play other games, you know. 

I’m mid-way through a bunch of games, and finished others but just haven’t gotten my thoughts together about them. It’s just really easy for me to speak my mind about Ubisoft games, because there’s so damn many of them, I’ve played so damn many of them, and their features are all iterative, rather than innovative, so there’s always an established base for me to speak from. In saying that, my review of the first Watch Dogs was one of impressed incredulity - it’s a really decent game. If it was the only open-world game that Ubisoft had released, it would have been lauded. Its use of the digital hacker trope as a gameplay tool to manipulate the city’s infrastructure in real time, as well as to peer into the private lives of each citizen, and the lengths it went to construct a vast series of interpersonal interactions amongst the NPCs resulted in a believable and interesting gameworld, and some genuinely thrilling cat-and-mouse car chases through the city streets. Unfortunately it was at the tip of spear during an infamous period of graphical downgrading when Ubisoft would naively stir hype with technically unfeasible pre-release gameplay footage, and then inevitably get hit with backlash when the actual released version of the game was necessarily downgraded in terms of its looks in order. 

I say ‘downgraded’ rather than ‘it looked worse’, because Watch Dogs has never looked ‘bad’. It’s not as swanky as the pre-release footage, but it still looks great, and it boggles my fucking mind when I try to consider how enslaved to the shareholders the people making the marketing decisions must be, how out-of-touch they’d have to be to fail to predict the backlash, or how dishonest they are if the backlash is some kind of considered collateral as long as the pre-orders rack up. In any case, the announcement of Watch Dogs 2 received a not-undue amount of skepticism in return. Given how deceitful the marketing of the first game was, I was shocked that there was much interest at all. But Ubisoft smartly chose a bold new style to contrast the drab and morose look of the previous game, and this strange, quirky, fun-looking experience did the trick and sparked interest. Instead of the Windy City, we were treated to sun-kissed San Francisco. Instead of the gruff, grumbly ‘brown-haired white male protagonist #375’ (I can’t recall his name), we had a collective of young, crazy, wise-cracking hackers. The foundation of the original Watch Dogs was solid enough for this to be enough of a change, and so it was that Watch Dogs 2 was released to a reasonable amount of praise. 

For all intents and purposes, it’s much the same game, but it fits an era of Ubisoft releases I’m going to refer to as ‘Newbisoft’: that is, the era in which Ubi seemed to finally get that its output was repetitive shit, and started making the barest effort to disguise it. The collectibles have been scaled down and replaced with places of interest that one can photograph to accrue experience points. The ‘experience points’ have been replaced with ‘followers’ - ostensibly reflecting the rise of your hacker collective as you complete missions and tasks. Other busywork activities such as pointless races are still there, as are Assassin’s Creed’s loot chests in the form of money bags lying in protected areas patrolled by gang members or security forces, but in putting them within an area that one must sneak into, seeking them out feels more like a mission than it does mindless filler. The amount of cash needed to purchase the various weapons and vehicles is generally quite high, and this feeds a desire in the player to want to engage in this cash-grabbing - you’re not getting six useless reales at a time - so it’s less irritating in this way. But if you stop to think about it too long, it’s unmistakably the same old bag of tricks. 

As for the game itself? Well...it’s okay. As an open-world Ubisoft game, it’s fine. It’s far too long, and if you’re anything like me and put off the story missions for fear of finishing the game and missing loads of content, you’ll quickly find out that the side missions aren’t actually side missions, but rather a near-endless series of tasks that you’re required to repeat four or five times before each matter is resolved. This pads out the play time by a dozen hours at least, and by the time you’ve finished the majority of them you might feel rather sick of the experience as a whole. Gameplay-wise it’s again similar to the first, although there seems to be a greater focus on gunplay than on setting and activating traps. This undermines the few unique elements of the series as a whole, as it’s simply more enjoyable to walk into an area and shoot anything that moves than it is to try and knock people out one at a time, only to have them wake up a few minutes later and shoot you in the back. Also, I, for one, didn’t mind the general seriousness of the first game. It gave the narrative a sort of singular focus that I felt impelled me onwards. Was it melodramatic? Yeah. Did I have a clue what was happening? Not really. But it contextualised the player’s exploration of the gritty ghetto areas, and construction sights, and grimy backalleys of Chicago, and resulted in a very evocative experience. Meanwhile, Watch Dogs 2 is all sun-shine and rainbows. Everything is in technicolour. All the characters are upbeat and exaggerated, and while I won’t fault the acting (except for the main character, who, amongst a band colourful of misfits, proves time and time again to be the most annoying and bland member), it feels like there are no stakes and no genuine repercussions for their actions. Their foggy mission-statement of dismantling the establishment and ending the reign of privacy-invading corporations is vague, and directly contradicted by the player’s actions in game as you peek into the secret lives of every single NPC you come across, or steal from their bank accounts, or hijack their cars, or run them down as they chat with friends. The characters are, by and large, as virtuous as can be, but in the course of completing your missions, the collateral damage is enormous. Watch Dogs 2 is a game that has crafted a story and characters that are at odds with the central conceit of the gameplay. This was not a problem with the first game, whose tale of rage-fueled vigilante justice was not opposed by the player’s in-game actions. 

That’s not to say that it doesn’t get anything right, of course. As mentioned, the acting is generally great - the character of Josh, a brilliant hacker with Asperger’s, is particularly charming and well-performed. It also carries on the previous game’s commitment to crafting a believable world with hundreds of nuanced, varied, and entertaining interactions between the NPCs that populate the city. I’m going to go ahead and say that Ubisoft’s efforts with the Watch Dogs series are about on-par with Rockstar in terms of creating a believable world filled with interesting characters. Every single NPC has a story. Every single area of the world is filled with incredibly detailed locations. At one point I came across a group of people who were trying and failing to take a photo of themselves with a self-timing camera. I stood in front of them and aimed a selfie at all of us and they stopped what they were doing and started laughing - the woman who was so desperate to have their photo work threw her hands up and grumbled. These people weren’t planted anywhere particular - they were just standing in an innocuous place by the seaside. The moment stood out to me amongst the thousands of other people you see around, but I could’ve put a hundred hours into the game and missed them. Other people will swear at you for taking photos of them, or play up to the camera, but this one particular group lost in this massive city had this one specific reaction, and I’m still not sure where it was something uniquely programmed, or whether it was just a particularly smooth example of the established systems working together in surprising harmony. 

The ability to interact with the city’s infrastructure only adds to the feeling of immersion. There’s plenty of joy to be found standing on a street corner during a rain shower and triggering the traffic lights, or causing cars to come to sharp stops or careen off the road. I found myself relying far less on the Watch Dogs ways of escaping danger though - blowing steam vents used to fill me with delight, but I found myself just hiding in alleyways far more often this time. The enemy AI is much more intelligent, no doubt, but the low-rise buildings of San Francisco offer less places to hide from helicopters, who quickly become the bane of your existence, and force you into long getaway chases from one end of the map to the other. 

The online aspects of the game are back, and are still entertaining. Drop-in co-op modes are accessible, if a little underwhelming in terms of what they ask of you, and the Bounty Hunter mode that can sometimes trigger automatically if you or another human player has been wanted for long enough will send you fleeing from the law AND trying to outwit other players as they race around trying to blow the shit out of you. It’s an arseload of fun seeing what lengths other players will go to in order to escape - at one point I dove off a bridge after a player, plunging into the water below behind him, and as he slowly swam away I hijacked a fishing trawler and ran him down. The nature of the game’s systems allow for abject chaos, and this is never clearer than when indulging it with other players. However, this too suffers from feeling somewhat less satisfying than that of the previous game, particularly when it comes to the ‘hacking invasion’ mode. As with the car chases, the lack of verticality and relative sparsity of pedestrians mean that there are few places for a person to hide, so in a mode that requires you to blend in with your surroundings, the most effective tactic is often just to put as much space between you and the other player. Standing in groups of people rarely works because there are rarely groups of people to stand with. Finding a spot to crouch and using the cameras to spot the other person rarely works because there often isn’t a spot to crouch that isn’t exposed. Once again, the brighter, happier change of scenery has transformed the game for the worse. 

And I think that cuts to the core of the issues with the Watch Dogs 2 - the changes are predominantly tonal, but the issues with the first game weren’t. Ubisoft fucked up because they pulled a bait-and-switch on the public, and because they milked their formula dry and sold it to an exhausted audience, not because the game wasn’t silly enough. Newbisoft’s Watch Dogs 2 is only new in spirit, and the changes they’ve made are, as always, iterative rather than innovative. It’s also one of the most unnecessarily draining games I’ve ever played in terms of the computing power required to run it to any reasonable standard. I had to rebuild my entire computer just to get it to run higher than 40fps. There’s no need for that, especially not for a game that is, to some extent, a glorified Saints Row. It could be a case of some rose-tinted hindsight, but I'd personally recommend the first game over this one, in terms of raw mood and action. It’s not perfect at all, but it’s darker and grittier and I think that kind of tone is better served by the gameplay. However, that’s not to say that this isn’t worth a play. If you’ve never played a Watch Dogs game before, then maybe this is the better place to start? It’s fun...at least for the first dozen hours, before it gets tedious. But then, can’t you say the same for nearly everything Ubisoft has ever released?

7.5 civilians killed out of 10