#man i haven't even seen one of those blogs in so long i forgot they were still around

[riddlerosehearts]

??? why is tumblr suddenly recommending me th*nspo/e.d. blogs and labeling them as "you seem interested". no tf i do not 😭

[winterzsurprise]

Man In The Mirror || SBI

Characters: Wilbur Soot, Tommyinnit, Technoblade (Allusions), Philza (Allusions).

Tags: Soulmate AU, Orphaned Tommy, Hurt/Comfort (?), Mentions of Death, Famous Musician Wilbur, Not Beta Read, Swearing, Crime Boys Centric.

Words: 3.7k

I haven't written in so long hence, no updates. But I'll post the other parts of Thorned Exhales later on in life, have this SBI short fic that I tried writing before shit went down.

This is inspired by that one tumblr post where in a Soulmate AU, you other half dies and shows up at your mirror, I forgot their blog name so if you know them, let me know :DD.

As usual, I accept criticism and welcome them as I want to do better with my writing :D, enjoy!

_____________

There’s a man in the mirror, Tommy observed.

He rubbed his eyes hard enough that they might fall from its sockets but there's actually a man in exchange for his reflection.

He already had a shit day after the clinic's nurse scolded him for dislocating a kid's jaw --- he still thinks the fucker deserved it --- to have his insanity proven by the hallucination in front of him was the icing on today's cake.

No matter how much he blinked, rubbed his eyes and pinch his arms.

There’s a man in the mirror, staring back at him and there's no denying that he's actually there.

The man was tall, gangly limbs hanging off to his sides almost longer than his torso if you count his hands, chestnut brown hair curling to themselves to form a puffy mess at his crown, the side of his head trimmed short enough for the eyes to focus on the mop of a hair he has. 

There were a couple of strands on his cloud fringe dyed in dark grey, like the old man he appears to be. Tommy thinks it's cool but he wouldn’t say it out loud.

He was dressed nicely, a thick and surely expensive trench coat with the hem stretching down to his knees, his yellow turtleneck, however was stained blue in shapes of fingerprints all around the fabric. The man looked well off and wasn’t that an irritating sight to see.

But what takes the crown was the bored look his eyes carried when Tommy met him first through his round glasses. 

Dark brown eyes overflowing with nonchalance and apathy, the dark bags under his eyes only solidifying Tommy’s impression of him.

A dickbag who dares to look more tired of the world than Tommy is. How dare this bastard hold those emotions in his gaze when he hasn’t tasted extreme poverty or live everyday with your life on the line?

“Hey, get that stupid look out of your face, bitch.”

People normally get scared of the supernatural but not Tommy Innett no, the world would have to follow his whims and bow before he’d think of ever following their rhythm.

Hell, his full name is Tommy Danger Strong Smart Innett for fucks sake, how could he pussy out with such a name?!

“Who are you to order me around, stupid child?”

Tommy was floored, recoiling from the raw annoyance in the guy’s voice.

He dares to have that tone when he’s trespassing his property?! Tommy decided there on there that this man is the most annoying prick he has ever encountered, real or not.

“Tommy fucking Danger Strong Smart Innett, don’t you dare call me stupid when you look like a Jared named bastard!”

The man scowled before sighing, pinching the bridge of his nose to mutter something unintelligible before looking up again with an exasperated gaze at Tommy before shaking his head and tilting his head back to stare at the sky.

“God, why are you so cruel to me?”

“Because you’re a bitch!”

“Why do I even bother…” He looked away from Tommy to stare at the space beside him, looking at his shabby mattress. "Say kid, where are we? Rather, where are you?"

Tommy stared at the man, squinting with suspicion. The man whose eyes showed nothing but apathy and boredom intimidates him, Tommy admits to himself. He has seen many movies where killers held the same dullness in their irises for him to entrust the man with his address.

Seeing the distrust in his eyes, the man sighed in defeat. "I'm not gonna kill you man, I'm stuck in the reflection dimension or whatever this shit is."

"No, you're a figment of my imagination bitch, the other kids have them!" Tommy paused, remembering something. “But they’re walking around unlike you.”

At that, as if he realised something, the dullness in the man's eyes softened a little as he stared back at the child in front of him. There was a sad cloud of conflict that grew in his irises, as if he’s withholding a truth he couldn’t say, forbidden even.

Tommy doesn’t like how this man stared at him like that, stupid adults and their hero complex, always thinking their actions are for the best of the other party.

"Ok, I won't ask about your location but what about your name? Tommy was it?"

"Tommy Innett, the biggest and bravest man there is." He said with chest puffed out.

This got the man to chuckle lightly, pocketing his hands in his coat as he stepped forward and to the stray light escaping the closed blinds. 

"How about you boss man? Are you a ‘Jared’ like I thought you are?"

The man's face scrunched.

"Fuck no, kill me if I were to be named so poorly like Jared. I'm a Wilbur type of guy."

“Wilbur.” Tommy repeats, the name rolling of his tongue smoothly, as if it was meant to be spoken by it. “That’s such a shit name.”

“You are so fucking rude, why didn’t your mother swallow instead?”

“You���”

Wilbur looked around closely, eyes darting from one place to another. Unwilling to be subject to Tommy’s word explosion, he spoke once more.

"So are you alone in this room?"

Tommy scoffed, crossing his arms. "And why would I tell you that?"

First he comes to his room — or rather his mirror — unannounced and uninvited and now he’s prodding into his lifestyle in the orphanage, didn't his unwelcomed ass already done enough?

Seeing the scowl displayed clearly on Tommy’s face, Wilbur continued.

“Said this once and I’ll say it again, I’m not gonna kidnap you or some shit. The fuck am I even gonna need you for?”

Tommy shrugged. “I don’t know! Maybe you’ll sell me off or gut me and sell them to the black market!”

“I’m stuck in this stupid mirror, what even made you think I’d ever want to stay here with you?!”

That hurted him, was he so annoying that someone wanted to leave him the first time they met? It reminded him of the parents that returned him to the orphanage, every one of them annoyed by his antics. Wilbur’s words hammered itself deep into the creases of his brain, a constant reminder of the parent’s distaste for him.

A reminder of his failure to reach their standards.

“Shut the fuck up, you fucking bastard, you don’t know anything.” he spat out through gritted teeth, feet dragging himself out of the room and away from Wilbur.

___________

When Tommy came back, exhausted from the overlapping noises outside and from the chores the caretakers gave him, Wilbur was still in his mirror, sitting crossed legged and his head supported by the arm he propped on his thigh. He was dozing off, he looked peaceful when he’s not being an insensitive prick, Tommy thought as he gently closed the door behind him.

He doesn’t want to wake him up, already sensing the awkward air build up if the man ever roused from sleep.

On his tiptoes, he trudged to his bed as stealthily as he could, his senses tenfold sensitive as he crossed the room.

“I’m sorry Toms.”

Tommy’s soul jumped out of his skin Wilbur’s raspy voice sliced through the silence, his heart rapping against his ribcage as he snapped his head towards the adult fixing his sitting position, eyes opening as he stretched his arms above his head.

He doesn’t know what to respond, honestly, he didn’t expect him to even apologise like any other adults in the area. Wilbur continues to ruin the expectations he had for people once more, maybe he’s from a fantasy world where ‘sorry’s aren’t a luxury.

"Do you really mean that Wilbur?" He asked, turning to him.

The man seemed taken aback by his reaction, furrowing his eyebrows before answering.

"Of course Tommy, I was such an insensitive dick to you earlier. I-I didn't figure out that you're in an orphanage until one of the caretakers went in to change the sheets."

At that, he turned to his bed to see his sheets were indeed switched with a cleaner one. Pristine white and a little ragged but it works just fine, providing him enough heat at night.

It must be pathetic to Wilbur, who seemed to be a silver spooned bastard, if not fed with a golden one instead. With such a fancy get up and expensive watch and rings, Tommy's living condition must be pitiful.

Of all the imaginary friends he could have, it has to be a rich guy.

"I shouldn't have said what I said. So I'm sorry Toms." Wilbur continued, hanging his head low as he picked on the laces of his boots.

Tommy felt uncomfortable by the man’s genuine apology. This is a first, he thinks as he stares at him.

He could monetize this shit, act upset and maybe he could earn a useful favor in the future from the ghost, scare off some kids or steal something for him, the possibilities are endless!

"You hurt me, Wilbur."

"I know, I'll make it up to you at some point."

A smile grew on Tommy's face. "Really?"

"Of course, is there anything you want to know about me or the world?"

Forgiveness in exchange for information? Tommy couldn't help but wonder if it was worth it but then again, what can Wilbur offer him when he's trapped in a mirror with no way out like he said he is? 

Staring at his expensive and thick silver watch, Tommy wondered if the man ever travelled around the world? He must've been a guy fed with a silver spoon, he must've seen the stunning sights of Switzerland or maybe even Italy.

"Have you ever travelled abroad before?"

"Of course, I was a part of a band once."

Tommy's eyes widened. Wilbur is a musician? A popular one it seems, considering how he had international concerts, that's what big names do right? He's a huge music enthusiast, it was one of the things in life that motivates him. For a musician to stumble upon his door...

Tommy is curious about all things music. Maybe Wilbur can teach him a few tricks or so.

"What band were you in?"

There was a quick shift inside Wilbur's chestnut eyes before he spoke, hesitation and conflict, Tommy identified.

But why?

"That's the thing… I-I can't recall everything just yet." He motioned to his head. "I ca-can remember the basics but there's... empty spots in my memory."

"Oh." 

It was all Tommy could say, disheartened.

All of his hopes of learning thrown out of the window, he wanted to hide how upset he is but he couldn't stop it from seeping out from the walls he established around him.

Seeing this, Wilbur's heart clenched in its cage, the disappointment in the kid's eyes leaving a bitter taste on his tongue but it was better that Tommy stays in the bliss of ignorance, at least until he hits the proper age.

With a sigh, he opened his mouth once more.

"Well, I can still remember a few areas we visited during our tour. Wanna hear about them?"

___________

Birthdays are overrated, Tommy tells himself.

Birthdays are boring, he said as he stared at the parties hosted on the 2nd floor of the fast food restaurant downtown when he passed by. Birthdays are boring, he muttered as he silently wished a celebration for his once in this lifetime.

Orphans don't get the luxury of celebrating their birthdays, Tommy knew that himself but he couldn't help but wish there was someone who'd valued them as much as he does.

Everyday he wakes up, he tells himself I'm going to be adopted today. But they never do, the adults don't want someone who's brash and loud, what they all wanted was someone soft, someone they can easily order around. 

He could act docile and kind like they all want but Tommy doesn't like that.

He wants to be accepted for who he is, Tommy Danger Strong Smart Innett.

All of the adults ignored such a festivity except the man in the mirror.

It's been a few months since he appeared and Tommy doesn't know if he calls Wilbur a blessing or a curse.

The man was an enigmatic fella. One moment he's a menace, teasing and laughing with Tommy till his jaw aches then Wilbur's mood will abruptly drop into his misery and never-ending sadness even Tommy couldn't remedy with his usual antics.

Even then, he never forgets to worry about Tommy. His voice is soft, albeit rough from lack of use that day, as he reminds him about dinner, noticing him skip his meals throughout the weeks they've been together.

So when Tommy's smiles didn't reach his eyes, Wilbur knew something was up.

"Why do you look stupider today?"

Tommy scoffed. "Do you mean amazing? I think I look more handsome today."

"Your smile isn't reaching your eyes, what's happening?"

Tommy could lie and say it's just a bad day but he could never escape Wilbur's inquisitive eyes, it was almost annoying if it wasn't secretly endearing for him.

"Nothing much, big man just got bigger by a year."

Wilbur's eyes widened as he muttered unintelligible words under his breath before his voice grew. "Oh god, I'm sorry Toms."

"No worries, I'm used to it. Besides, you didn't know so it's understandable."

"Still, happy birthday man. How old are you now?"

"10 and yet I'm the biggest, strongest man in this building." Tommy puffed his chest as he stared up at Wilbur who's eyes crinkled with joy.

Then came a pause as Wilbur's eyes seemed to hold the same conflict of last time, swirling deep in his dark brown eyes as he pondered over something. Curiosity rose in Tommy at the shift in the man's mood.

But after a few ticks of silence, the man spoke once more.

"Is there anything you want, kid?"

Tommy laughed at that. There's no way someone trapped in the mirror just asked him what he wants for his birthday. It was more comical to him that Wilbur looked determined and dead-set on it.

How can he even leave the mirror and buy him a gift when he couldn't leave the place through all of those months spent together?

"How can you even buy for me man? Aren't you stuck in the mirror dimension or some shit?"

Wilbur scowled. "Just spit it out child, I have my ways."

Tommy knew he shouldn't let the tiny hope in his heart fester, it was impossible that he'd ever get what he wanted anyways.

Yet a tiny voice at the back of his head urged him to obey him, tell him what he wanted to taste or hold for so long.

It was Wilbur after all, what can that man do to ever harm him? He knew his address and name and nothing bad has ever happened to him the whole time they've been together.

If anything, Wilbur helped him in many things.

"I think I'd like a superhero comic book, I don't care what it's about and also McDonald's."

Wilbur nods, crossing his arms. "And what do you want from McDonald's?"

"A shit ton of fries, chicken sandwich and maybe a mcflurry?"

"Gotcha, go do your homework in the meantime." Wilbur said as he walked away from his sight, blending into the reflection of Tommy's bedroom.

He couldn't help but be curious why Wilbur held such a grim expression the moment he turned away. The man thinks he's quick and sly but Tommy saw how fast his smile dropped when he thinks his face is hidden from him.

He wondered how the man trapped in the mirror dimension could even fulfil his birthday wish, his questions leading him astray from his current tasks at hand.

He knows not to hope but he couldn't help the budding light from swelling in his heart. 

So he followed Wilbur's order to finish his homework and wait.

Soon enough, the sun has set and the moon took reigns over the sky along with its dark background. Every tick of the clock after it went over 5 pm sent pricks into his heart as his already small hope trickled away.

Tommy knew he shouldn't have hoped for anything. He must've looked ridiculous sitting cross legged in front of the mirror, waiting for the man to reappear as if he held the cure to every illness and he's about to die.

But before Tommy could even stand up from the mirror to resign to his bed for the night, Wilbur returns with a triumphant smile, hands in his coat pockets as he strode into the view like a man who won the lottery. 

There wasn't anything new about him other than his changed expression, Tommy wonders what happened.

"Where did you go, boss man?"

"That's a secret, but we gotta go somewhere quick alright? Bring your spoon with you."

Tommy followed, taking the spoon from his bedside table and waited for Wilbur to jump into the utensil's reflection before taking the blue coat at the end of his bed and leaving his room.

With not a single cent to his name, Tommy stole a spoon from the cafeteria months ago to take Wilbur to his maths lessons for help in understanding the lesson better.

He's still smart, sometimes geniuses need someone to explain lowly things to them taught through complicated methods and Wilbur was the only volunteer to do such a work.

"This is stupid Wilbur, where are we even going?"

"Let's go to the park, I told them to go there."

Them? Who are they?

The mystery of it all makes Tommy anxious. 

What is Wilbur planning? Is he finally going to kidnap him after barely escaping this horrible place?

"If you think I'm abducting you, fuck off. I'm not that evil man, I don't even have the face for it!" Wilbur exclaimed as if he heard his thoughts loudly.

"You wanted me to go to the park at night, it's sketchy as shit man!"

"Whatever, you'll get it once we arrive."

Even the suspicion planted in his heart wasn't enough to trample the excitement that thrummed in his veins. He doesn't know what he was getting enthusiastic for when Wilbur might, for all we know, be out for his head after that time Tommy teased him out of the mirror.

The park was silent save for the rustles of leaves, the trees and shrubberies glistened lightly under the moonlight from the small downpour earlier. It was mildly made obvious by the street lights on the shining cobble pathways. 

But what caught his attention is the man with his helmet standing under a lamp next to his parked bicycle, a paper bag in one hand as he typed into his phone with the other.

Tommy wouldn’t have found the situation more suspicious if the man didn’t have a familiar logo of a delivery company on the side of his helmet.

"Go Toms, that's yours."

He couldn't say anything. 

For once in his life Tommy couldn't utter a word out of his mouth, not even a random stream of bullshit left him like it usually does. He was stunned, shocked and thankful all at the same time.

He pinched himself but he isn't waking up from his dream.

Wilbur really did give him a birthday gift. The first ever.

"Are you fucking kidding me, Wilbur?"

"No, get it."

The man turned to him once Tommy was close enough, handing the bag to him.

It shocks him that the man didn't even hesitate in doing so.

Is he not worried that the parcel might fall into the wrong hand?

Tommy looked around, he remembers those laughs for gag shorts on the television. Surely, this must be a sick joke where a camera is hiding behind the tree or something, waiting for him to be thankful before they jump out to ridicule him.

Turning to Wilbur again, Tommy's vision blurred, his heart clenching painfully in his chest as he registered the man's soft gaze and genuine smile.

Maybe not all adults are foul and annoying. Maybe some people do adore him. Wilbur really does love him, care deeply for him, so much that it pains Tommy to think of.

Is it alright for him to have such a luxury?

"Delivery from anonymous, there's two spider-man comics there." Tommy still couldn't believe his ears. Did he really get a gift on his birthday? "Happy birthday mate, he said."

Even when the man was long gone into the night, Tommy stood there astounded, the weight of the bag more apparent than it should be. His chest hurts and his heart swells from the thought, a smile broke from his lips as tears trickled out of his eyes.

Was he dreaming? If he is, Tommy wished he'd never wake up.

Seeing tears stream from his face, Wilbur's heart ached in its cage, his arms aching at his sides, he wanted to hug Tommy. Comb his hair back as he whispered reassurance into his head. Never has he felt so helpless as he does now, he wants so much but can't have any.

It was maddening but he shouldn't put a damper on their mood, it's a good day.

So Wilbur smiled and said. "Happy birthday Toms, I'm glad I met you."

___________

Even after his birthday surprise, Tommy’s opinion of Wilbur never changed

The man in the mirror is as annoying and weird as he is helpful.

Wilbur is smart, being an adult with more experience than him, and taught him how to count and do his basic maths assignments. When there’s problems that arose from the shelter, Wilbur would tell him his own solution, explaining the hard words with care and playful teasing.

Surprisingly, Tommy understands it better even if the man fucked around than a teacher who ironed a stoic expression and wielded a book.

He was brotherly in his own way, never fleeing from the reflections around the center to watch Tommy go around his daily chores and warn him if the head cook is about to enter the cafeteria when he goes to sneak a cookie out of the jar.

Wilbur is his buddy, his shadow.

They were attached to the point of Tommy sneaking out a spoon just so he could have Wilbur hiding in his pockets. The adults will scold him later on but he could care less. He wants the man in the mirror to see the world with him. 

During the whole year with Wilbur in his pockets, Tommy has entered as many foster homes and left as much. It was embarrassing every time he was sent back to the orphanage, a reminder of his failure to reach a family’s vision of a perfect child.

Whenever the night is cold and dark with little sobs wrecking his small body, Wilbur would urge him to bring a spoon beside him, his eyes darkened with defeat and sadness as he whispered into his ears, offering warmth with his words till Tommy falls soundly asleep, a silent wish of feeling a phantom touch caressing his cheeks supporting the man’s comforting voice.

The whole year with Wilbur felt like magic, a stream of light after years of darkness and it couldn’t have been more perfect. Tommy wanted nothing more but to stay with his brother figure, although he wouldn’t say it out loud.

But today seems like a different kind of day.

On the morning before his 11th birthday, Tommy found himself staring at a new reflection on the mirror.

But unlike the gloomy cloud on top of Wilbur, this man had an aura of danger oozing off of his mildly muscular body, wide shoulders draped in white silk long sleeves and a beige pair of trousers hiding his well-toned thighs with a long, horizontal scar crossing his nose bridge and ending under his nonchalant eyes to boot.

He oozes nothing but pure masculinity.

Only if he didn’t wear those stupid rectangular glasses and had long bubblegum pink hair then he would’ve been truly intimidating.

The epitome of scary.

“Who the fuck are you supposed to be?!” 

[neverwritewhatyouknow]

hello hello~ i saw your post about rw&b from another blog and decided to give your blog a look through. i just wanted to say really thank you for bringing these representation issues to the conversation, even if it's tiring and hard :')

i thought about it and i really could only name a few characters on tv that i've seen recently who were jewish (jake/gina from b99 and dr. taub from house md). as a jew, even nonreligious like many of us are, the culture is still such an important part of the community, and yet none of us really get to see this representation on screen - especially minorities within the jewish minority (i have a friend who's half chinese half jewish for ex).

i didn't grow up with religion (we only celebrated passover sometimes and we usually forgot to light the hanukkah candles after day 3), but we ate latkes and matzah and hamantashen and my mom and grandparents (also nonreligious jews) regularly used yiddish words like schlep and schmutz which I didn't know wasn't normal until i had college friends ask me what they meant.

anyway this ask doesn't really have a point but i'm really glad to see that this kind of issue is being talked about at some level, especially as you've seen, it keeps getting denied and pushed down (like saying having a jewish producer on a movie means we shouldn't have jewish actors??? wtf). even though i haven't experienced much discrimination myself (i don't have an easily identifiable/stereotypical jewish name or appearance) many many people have (for literally thousands of years) and there's so much antisemitism in our society. it's exhausting seeing it, hearing about it, reading it in books, etc. sorry for the very long message but sending much love and gratitude <3<3 you're amazing

Thank you so much for this!!!

I was just talking to someone else about Jake from Brooklyn 99, I’m gonna watch the show because everyone keeps telling me great things! And Taub… yikes… his character isn’t bad, but man do they really use his Jewishness as a punchline sometimes, granted House does it with everyone, but it feels more offensive with Taub. Dr Cuddy in House is Jewish too, played by Lisa Edelstein. But that was more of the case that she was Jewish and they let her character be too. But yeah, Jewish rep is such a small fraction of characters, and meaningful Jewish rep even more so.

There will be “Jewish” TV shows like The Goldbergs or Maisel, and people consider that rep… but 1. There are almost no Jewish actors in either of those shows, 2. Heavily stereotyped, 3. If the only time you can see more than one of two Jews on screen is in a show that is about Jews… It’s still othering Jews by literally putting them into a different show. I can easily name more than a dozen shows with no Jewish characters, which is just so terrible. Especially because there are so many different Jews in the world. Not every Jew is from New York and speaking Yiddish. There’s an entire other type of Judaism called Sephardic Judaism and there’s almost no rep there. Plus, there is barely any rep for Jews of color (especially played by Jews of color). I also have a friend who’s Jewish and Chinese, apparently that’s a super huge sector… yet, I can’t remember the last time I ever saw that represented by an actor who is. Sorry, little rant.

I love hearing about people’s Jewish upbringing, because there’s such a diverse range in the way people live their Jewish lives, and it doesn’t make any Jew more or less Jewish than another. I’m really glad you’ve never been discriminated against, like honest to god that makes me so happy. I’m the total opposite. Nearly been killed and attacked a handful of times, so any time another Jew tells me they’re able to live without worrying for their life, it makes me so happy and hopeful that maybe one day we all can. Probably a big hope lol, but maybe.

And yeah, Jewish representation is something that people don’t wanna hear about, because it would require people to understand more about Judaism and Jewishness, and due to history/society/culture, many think they already know everything and learning more would make them reevaluate things. And many don’t want to.

Thanks again for your message, Anon! Great to hear from you!!

[cyrassol]

man i haven't been on tumblr for so long i forgot how this goes, but uhhh here ig??

18+ only, s'il-vous-plaît

i realise this won't stop any minors who really want to be here, but a) please, b) you'll be blocked if i find out or suspect you're underage, and c) if you really want to see sex-related stuff then you should be learning about safe and consensual sex and, let me tell you, DoL and its fandom ain't the place for it my dude

and with that out of the way

hi! i'm cyra, you may use any pronouns but she/her usually works!

i am in my mid-20's, a funny little tidbit that surprises me everytime i remember

artist, despite what my shitty lighting and shading skills may tell you

sometimes, SOMETIMES, i also write

(psst if you want to see anything in particular relating to those things, feel free to send requests, ask box is open)

i am. terrible. TERRIBLE. at DMs. if you send me a message and i never reply or even read (does tumblr give read receipts?), know that it is not about you personally! i just get crazy anxious about text messages in general, so if you want to talk to me please send an ask or tag me in a post instead :) i understand it isn't the same (which is why i prefer it lmao) but it has a much, MUCH higher chance of being seen and replied to!

gdi i keep editing this post and adding shit to it but! i typically only tag characters and my stuff, but if you want me to start tagging specific topics/triggers then all you gotta do is ask me to and i will :)

welcome to my DoL blog! i can also be found on reddit with the same username as here :)

for the curious, info about my PCs are under the cut!

••••••••••••••••

Arden, my main PC. Genderfluid, but she/her is what she uses the most out of convenience. Official sources of income are her dates with Avery and modelling for Niki, but most nights there's also a shadowed figure breaking into Danube street mansions—oh, you've seen it? No, you haven't—and on Fridays you might see a masked figure go into the brothel for a weekly private show. Love interest is Avery, though both have the mindset that theirs is mostly a transactional relationship. Arden's also down bad for Wren, but for now it seems to be unrequited.

Monroe, my baby secondary PC. Herm/intersex, but although he does occasionally dabble in crossdressing for work, he goes exclusively by he/him and masculine terms. Sex worker, and pretty sought-after, too—Briar would lose quite a lot of money if Monroe stopped showing up one day. Unfortunately, it's come at the cost of his reputation, something he's already being blackmailed for. Love interests are Sydney and Whitney, though both relationships are something Monroe entered into extremely reluctantly given his current circumstances (and also because Whitney is... Whitney).

Adeline, my "forsake civilisation, return to nature" PC lmao. Cis woman with the wolf transformation, which she definitely did not get through the mushroom route. Plantpeople enthusiast, but her true love will always be the wolf pack and its leader. She did get kidnapped by Eden once after she got lost in the woods during a hunt and, while she escaped, sometimes Addie finds herself thinking about the hunter with curiosity—after all, didn't she also fight the Black Wolf at first before knowing better? Maybe the hunter isn't so bad either. Probably the only one of my PCs who'll become a parent.

Vincent, my final PC (for now?). Cis man with a huge everything—huge heart, huge muscles, huge... dick. Gentle giant, it's a wonder he ever escaped Remy's farm—probably an accident tbh, must have fallen into the river or something because this man was as well-behaved as they come. Nowadays his mind is pretty much healed from whatever weird trance he'd been in back then, but despite how happy he is with Alex and the farm, sometimes he remembers his days at Remy's with longing—Vince doesn't let himself wonder if it's the place or its owner that he misses, though.

All my PCs are in their 20's, btw! They also all exist at the same time, maybe one day I'll make a post with all their connections to each other and other NPCs :) It'll be... a mess lmao

[saeran-imagines]

Did you see the birthday chats from 2019? Specifically the one where Saeran (as "Unknown") invites you to come eat ice cream and watch Netflix with him? Since Saeran's birthday is coming up again, could you write what if MC had taken him up on his offer and gone to meet him? (Jindere has a video of the chats on youtube if you haven't seen it/want a refresher!) I'm obsessed with the idea of this happening and I love your writing so I'd love to read this from you 🥰

Heya! I remember those birthday chats omg, I just had to buy the picture that went along with them when it became available! That and the 707 version are just so pretty, I had them as my desktop background for a good while 🥰

I made this longer than I meant omg! I wanted to get it done in time for his birthday, which, HAPPY BIRTHDAY SAERAN !! (and seven too but this blog ain’t about you ❤) I have a bias for the soft Saerans so I didn’t think I’d like writing for Unknown as much as I did, but I had a lot of fun with this 😊 I hope you all like it!

You fiddle with your phone, the broken looking chat room open to “Unknown’s” messages. That hacker… what kind of person is he? There’s no doubt he’s up to no good, but he’s never done anything that would put you in danger. Quite the opposite, actually. You have a feeling he’d rush to your rescue if you found yourself in a bad situation. “It’s my birthday today. Meet me outside the building at 8 and I’ll show you a great time.” Coming from anyone else it’d sound creepy as hell, it should sound creepy as hell, he’s a complete stranger who hacked your phone, but… the feeling of dread you imagine would come before getting axe murdered just isn’t there. And more than that, there’s something in the way he typed, in the long pauses between messages that seemed… lonely. You look at the clock- 7:50. Taking a deep breath, you force yourself up, pull on a coat, and take the elevator down to the first floor. You wouldn’t be able to stand not knowing what might have happened if you didn’t go meet this mystery person. And hey, it could very well be a great time.

You take up a position right outside the building and look around- nobody seems to be here yet. The sun has started its trek downwards, the shadow on the building long enough to reach the other side of the road. It’s a little late to be out. What does he have planned? You take another deep breath and try to relax, worrying won’t do you any good. You check your phone- 7:53. Has it really only been 3 minutes? It feels like you’ve been waiting here for hours. Footsteps followed by a figure rounding the corner next to you cause you to perk up, but another person follows shortly after and you quickly look back down again, dejected. The couple shoots you a suspicious glance, keeping enough distance from you that they end up walking on the road as they pass you on the sidewalk. You must look strange, you realize, fiddling with your thumbs and glancing back and forth in the dark shadow of a building. You sigh, this is a little ridiculous. Just as you’re considering going back inside and forgetting about this whole evening, you feel a tap on your shoulder. 

“Hey, doll,” a smooth low voice sounds from where your shoulder was tapped, and you whip around to see the source. “You actually came.” You notice his eyes first, a striking minty blue that almost glows in the dim light. Then you notice his white suit that matches perfectly with his hair, pink accents and all. Aren’t hackers supposed to be subtle? The only things about him that match your mental stereotype are the dark circles under his eyes and the mask covering the lower half of his face. Neither detract from his allure, though. He looks like you could find him on the cover of a fashion magazine. He chuckles at your stunned silence. “What, liking what you see?” 

“Ah! Uh-” you stutter out. “You just… weren’t what I was expecting.” You can’t see his mouth under the mask, but you know he’s smirking anyways.

“Oh?” he teases. “And what did you expect?” You try your best to regain your composure. This isn’t the time to be making googly eyes at strangers. God, it’s been way too long since you’ve interacted with someone. You haven’t had the chance to after temporarily moving into that apartment. 

“I don’t know, some weirdo in a ski mask?” you joke, making him chuckle again. You feel yourself starting to relax. He seems like a kind enough person, despite the teasing, and talking to him is comfortable. This night might turn out better than you expected. “So, what are we doing tonight?” 

“Well, I hope you like ice cream. My favorite parlor stays open late, I figured I deserve a birthday treat. You know, since I’ve been such a good boy recently,” he laughs. It’s a giddier laugh than you expected from him, he must have been looking forward to this for a while. He holds out his hand for you to take. “Shall we?” You pause, looking down at his gloved hand. You can feel that this is the last chance you have to change your mind, to take the elevator back up to the apartment and forget about this interaction. Taking hold of his hand would form a contract that binds you to his side for the rest of the night. After a moment of deliberating you grasp his hand, perhaps a bit too tight. You’ve already gotten this far, your curiosity won’t let the night end until you learn more about this strange man. You flash him the most convincing smile you can muster.

“Let’s go.” He weaves you through the city, taking more than a few sketchy shortcuts through alleyways and unexpected detours. He must have to be careful to avoid detection in his line of work, he’s walking as if he’s trying to confuse anyone who might be tracking him. He makes some small talk along the way, prying you for your thoughts about various RFA members and asking you about your life outside the messenger. You learn that he has a bit of a soft spot for Jumin, seeming to appreciate his cold honesty and business oriented mindset. From the short walk you’ve had with this stranger he seems to be the type to prefer fun over work, but you suppose you’ve only seen one side of him. So far, that is. 

You arrive at your destination after around 20 minutes of walking. It’s a small sweets shop painted white and baby blue. A chalkboard sign shows the flavors of the day through the window, around half crossed out due to the business day nearing its end. You feel a light squeeze around the hand that you nearly forgot was being held by the hacker. When you look up at him you can see sparkles in his eyes. When he notices your stare he looks away, is he embarrassed? “Sorry if I startled you, darling.” He apologizes for his sudden excitement, letting go of your hand “My flavor is still in stock,” he says with a smile. “Shall we go inside?” He holds the door open for you and you thank him, walking inside and losing yourself in the sweet scent. 

“Welcome!” the chipper cashier calls out. “Do you two know what you’d like?” Your partner wastes no time in calling out a practiced order, something with mint and a waffle cone that you don’t quite catch as you scan the overwhelming array of colors and flavors. Not wanting to spend too much time gawking, you throw out a fast ‘I’ll have what he’s having’ and make your way towards the counter.

“Good choice,” your partner of the evening says with a grin. You stop him as he starts reaching towards his pocket. He tilts his head at you with a questioning stare.

“It’s your birthday, right?” you state more than ask. “My treat.” You pull out and swipe your card before he has a chance to protest. He doesn’t speak for a few seconds, not expecting this act of kindness, but he quickly recovers with a laugh and a thank you as he takes his cone. “Where to?” you ask once you both successfully make it out of the shop with delicious looking chocolate dipped mint chocolate chip ice cream cones. You want to see how it tastes, but a deep rooted birthday etiquette that lives inside of you forbids you from taking the first bite. That’s reserved for the birthday boy, after all!

“Just up there,” he points to a nearby hill. “You can see the stars really well.” You smile and nod before starting the trek. It’s a cool evening, luckily, so your ice cream only barely starts to drip on the way up. Talking to the mysterious hacker seems to get easier as time goes on. Any leftover anxiety you had fades as you make light conversation and tease each other. It feels like you’ve known him for years. You attribute at least some of it to the ice cream, his speech has become a lot more bubbly and a lot less guarded after he got his hands on his cone. You never thought you’d call the person who broke into your phone cute, but you can’t help but smile at how happy he seems.

You reach the top of the hill before you know it. A blanket is already laid out at the very top, and he guides you to sit beside him on it. It’s not a huge blanket, your shoulders are nearly touching. Which is NOT something to blush about, you tell yourself. He pulls his mask down for the first time tonight, leaving you to stare at him for a bit longer than you would have liked to. He was definitely handsome, but there’s a layer of familiarity that you can’t quite put your finger on. His pretty lips turn up in a smirk. 

“What are you staring at?” You almost miss it, but his hands fidget slightly as he asks the question. Maybe he’s a bit more insecure than he lets on? You try to get past some of your shyness for his sake, if he’s worried about his looks you’d like to reassure him.

“Nothing much, I just think you look nice,” you smile, feeling just a bit of heat creep to your face. “Now-” you quickly change the subject. “You have to take the first bite of your ice cream so I can have mine. Birthday rules, and all.”

“Okay, okay, whatever you say, doll,” he chuckles. He takes a bite, trying to catch all the ice cream that threatens to drip off. “There.” You grin and have a taste, too. There’s something about small shops that make everything taste a thousand times better. It’s the sweetest, creamiest ice cream you’ve ever had. 

“Good, right?” he asks, already knowing your answer from the big smile on your face.

“Yup!” you exclaim. You finish your treats in a comfortable silence. The stars really are beautiful from the top of this hill, they appear so much bigger and brighter without the light pollution from the city. You glance to your side to see him looking back at you. 

“Enjoying yourself?” he asks. He’s closer than you remember.

“Yeah,” you breathe. “The stars are beautiful.” His eyes are shining like stars, too. The darkness has made their unnatural color stand out even more, it would be so easy to get lost looking into them. You force your gaze back to the sky, trying to ignore how fast your heart is beating. “Are you? Enjoying yourself, I mean? It’s your birthday, after all.”

“Yeah, I am,” he says without missing a beat. “It’s not often that I get to go out like this.”

“Because of your hacking job?” you ask.

“Yeah, something like that.” He sighs and leans back, looking up at the stars once again. What kind of life does he have? It’s hard to get a read on him. You can talk to him like an old friend but you don’t even know his name. You get the feeling he wouldn’t tell you even if you asked. Better not to, then. You’re satisfied with the little snippets of him that you’ve gotten today, and if he wants to reveal more you’ll let him do that at his own pace.

“Well, I’m glad I came out to meet you then.” He looks over at you again, studying your face. Almost like he’s waiting for you to take it back, or turn it into a joke. You don’t.

“Yeah, me too.”

[kickingitwithkirk]

The Coupon Book Of Love

Summary: Dean and Y/N have a falling out during a hunt and return not speaking. This upsets Jack who decides to help fix their relationship.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader, Confused Jack Kline, Mentions of Sam and Cas

A/N: for @winchester-fantasies  #winchesterfantasies1000followerschallenge.

Word Count: 2623

Warnings:  fluff, some arguments, ogling of m/f body, necking, mild language, implied sex

Prompt: 10. “I’ve had a rough day and honestly all I want right now is a drink and someone to cuddle with.” 

A/N: This is my first attempt at writing fluff so hopefully it doesn’t suck and there was to be coupon photos included but I couldn’t get them the right size and had to delete.

*No beta, all mistakes are mine

*****

Jack Kline was sad. 

Dean and Y/N had returned from a hunt not speaking to each other. This was not completely abnormal for them. Their relationship is one of extreme passions, running hot or cold depending on the day.

It was when Y/N moved back into her old room and Dean started drinking all the whiskey in the bunker they all knew something very bad had happened. Sam tried to find out what had happened but all he could get out of either of them was ask Dean or ask Y/N. 

After Sam retired for the night, Jack went to his father Castiel and asked why do people who are in love like Y/N and Dean hurt each other? 

He said that human love is complicated and had no definitive answer.

Jack could not let them go on like this. Y/N was perfect for Dean, she could help with his highs and lows, make him smile when he was in one of his dark moods and had an off kilter sense of humor that matched his.

So Jack turned to the internet looking for the answer. 

He found all sorts of sites with recommendations how to: repair relationships, muddle through misunderstandings, blogs from magazines like Cosmo on how to fix things with your significant other, spice up your love life, even watching Dr. Phil on YouTube.

But most of the advice given was about vocalizing thoughts and feelings and Dean doesn’t do those things.

Jack starts thinking when they return from a hunt Y/N will say to Dean, “I’ve had a rough day and honestly all I want right now is a drink and someone to cuddle with.”  Dean’s eyes always lit up like the displays at Christmas when Y/N asks him for a cuddle. Which is weird because Dean is vocal that he doesn’t cuddle.

Sam teases Dean that Y/N’s secret code for nookie didn’t fool anyone. Dean tells him to shut up while smiling.

Jack shakes his head, is cuddle and nookie the same or are they different things...humans are very confusing.

He’s about ready to quit when he notices a tab for Pinterest that wasn’t closed yesterday and clicks on it. There were a few boards; cooking, pies, vintage cars, pinup girls.

Unlike what Sam is always saying, Dean does use the internet for more than watching porn. 

Jack scrolls around for a while looking at other pins when he sees something. Tapping on the photo he reads the description. He likes the idea presented but it’s not quite right for Dean and Y/N...

...so he comes up with his own plan.

******

The Next Morning

Dean staggers into the kitchen looking for coffee. Lots of coffee after another night spent with Jack, Jim and some wild turkey. Going over to the pot he wonders why Sam hadn't made it after his morning run like usual. Dean sees a piece of paper taped to it with a typed message.

Please go to the library ASAP.

Dean ponders the note while the coffee is brewing and grudgingly heads there after pouring a mug. He is surprised to see Y/N standing by the table looking as tired as he felt. Then he notices a paper in her hand. “Got one too?” He asks, slowly moving to the other side, the table separating them. 

She nods once in acknowledgment.

On the table between them is a letter and two small boxes with their names written on them. Dean slides the letter towards him and reads it out loud.

Dear Dean and Y/N,

I don’t like it when you fight, it makes me sad. You're treating your love as something disposable. I want you to be happy like before and since both of you are stubborn so I’ve come up with a way to help. 

Each box possesses a specifically tailored coupon for each of you with extra, individual instructions accompanying it and must be completed together once a day in order. 

Sam, Cas and I are on a hunt so you have the bunker to yourselves. Have fun.

PS: No peeking ahead-this means you Dean. 

*****

CAR WASH

I can't believe I agreed to do this repeatedly going through Dean's head as he entered the garage after they had opened the boxes and shared their first coupons.

He’s grabbing the paraphernalia kept there for bathing his Baby when Y/N walks in wearing...oh crap...that button down plaid shirt tied up under her bust and those cutoffs made from an old pair of jeans of his that hug her curves just right.

Okay, if that’s how she want to play…game on baby.

Dean hands her a sudsy bucket giving her the look. Y/N blinks perplexed as he walks over turning on the faucet and starts wetting down the Impala. 

She pulls out the sponge and starts soaping down the passenger side as Dean works on the drivers side. They watch each other, quickly looking away when caught.

By the time they meet at the trunk they're both wet, Dean’s t-shirts clinging, accentuating his torso and his jeans have molded to his bowed legs and scrumptious bum. Y/N abruptly hurries to the front of the car.

Dean, smirking to himself, makes the mistake of looking up through the windows. He can see Y/N stretching over the hood as far as she can reach, water and bubbles sliding over the slope of her breasts, nipples pebbled up under the material.

She bends down in front and he quietly steps to his right looking down the side of the car and can see her pert rear swaying in the air as she's scrubbing the grill. Dean reaches over the top of his jeans, pushing down his harding length.

“Okay, she's clean enough, I'll finish up here.” Dean gruffly states. Y/N pops up confused, “Um, are you sure, we haven't waxed yet.” 

Dean feels himself flushing, that’s the last thing he needs right now is Y/N’s breasts bouncing as she's vigorously buffing his...car. “I forgot to get a new can, we’ll do it later.”

“I’ll go get cleaned up and meet you back here in an hour for the next part.” Y/N says as she leaves the garage hips swaying as she walks up the steps. 

“Good thing were not leaving right away.” Dean mutters to himself grimacing at how his wet jeans have become way too constricting.

~~~~

Y/N slid the prepacked basket onto the trunk and shut it, hearing Dean come to a sudden halt and peered over the roof at him, taking in his flushed expression.

“Something wrong?” She inquires.

“I.. uh..I haven't seen you in that in a long time.” Dean stammers out awestruck waving his hand at Y/N’s appearance. Her hairs pinned up in loose waves and dressed in the tea length, off the shoulder summer dress he loves on her.

“Not the most practical thing to wear when chopping off a vamps head.” She quips.

“So, where are we going?” Dean asks, pulling the key out of his pocket.

“I’m to drive us...” she starts, “Nope, not happening sweetheart.” Dean steely interrupts. 

Sighing Y/N walks over, “My instructions say I'm to drive to a predetermined location and I can't tell you where it is so I need the keys,” holding her hand out, “Please.”

Dean clenched his jaw reluctantly handing her the keys and got in the passenger side.

They drove for about an half hour, Dean glaring out the front window the entire time. Y/N turned onto a tree lined gravel road going a quarter mile before stopping. They sit in silence gazing out the front window astounded.

In front of them is an abundantly flowering meadow surrounding a small, private lake. 

Jack couldn't have picked out a more perfect place.

“Sooo...what are we supposed to be doing?” 

Y/N hands him the coupon reading…

ROMANTIC PICNIC

*****          

MOVIE NIGHT                 

Y/N enters the Dean Cave not surprised Dean’s already settled in one of the recliners with pizza, popcorn and various other snacks spread out and a twelve pack Margiekugel cooling in the iced tub between the chairs.

They had spent the day doing various choirs separately around the bunker to give each other some space after yesterday. Y/N admitted to intentionally teasing Dean while washing the Impala and vice versa. During their picnic, something neither of them would ever normally do, they had fun together.

Dean seemed to be enjoying spending time together like they haven’t had much of lately but when they got back he decided to go out for a few cold ones instead of spending the evening in and pissing off Y/N.

“Ready for a marathon of The Man with No Name sweetheart?” Dean smugly asks trying to get a rise out of her. Y/N’s grabs some pizza and settling in the other chair takes a big bite of the meat lovers slice and chews slowly. Dean stares wondering why she hasn’t reacted, well aware Eastwood is not a favorite of hers.

Y/N finishes chewing, fishes a beer out of the tub opening it and after taking a long draw finally glances at Dean and flashes her coupon.

CONTROL OF THE REMOTE

“Sonovabitch,” Dean spits out, sinking in the chair cause knowing Y/N she’ll pick some long-ass, drawn out British dramedy that Sam’s the only one willing to watch with her, “I'm gonna get that Nephilim for this,” he pouts but will never admit he’s actually pouts.

A saccharin smile crosses Y/N’s lips as she takes the remote from him and brings up the menu to select a movie. Dean kills the beer in his hand and grabs another as she continues searching, occasionally clicking on one before going back undecided.

“Will you just pick something so we can get it over with.” Dean surly growls out, opening his fifth beer. Y/N gives him an annoyed huff pressing start. 

Dean jerks upright in surprise at her choice, “Seriously, we're watching...”

“...I don't like spaghetti westerns but seems you forgot I do like slasher films,” Y/N interrupts, “and don't you dare tell Sam, he already thinks I'm off my beam since we got together as it is.”

“Alright and I'll not take that last part as an insult.” Dean happily agrees, snagging the popcorn/M&M’s bowl shoveling in a mouthful as Y/N rolls her eyes, settling in to enjoy an evening of some slice and dice together.

 *****    

HOME COOKED MEAL       

‘’Argh! This is ridiculous, what made Jack think I could cook anything?” Y/N yells at the tablet sitting innocuous on the counter in front of her with the recipe Jack had picked out, taunting her.

Dean stopped in the doorway observing the mess Y/N is making of his kitchen. The flour bag is tipped over one counter spilling on the floor, the cutting board has something green cut into so many different shapes it's unidentifiable, other various items scattered about as the skillet on the stove is starting to smoke.

Then the alarm goes off screeching throughout the kitchen.

“Turn the stove off!” He yells over the alarm rushing over switching the stove off and grabbing a lid to smother the fire. Once it's out he turns on Y/N, “Are you trying to burn the place down? Don't you know not to set the heat on high under oil?”

“Yes Dean, I'm trying to burn the bunker down so I can get out of doing this!” Y/N screeches loudly waving the coupon in Dean’s shocked face.

He's never heard her like this, Y/N is one of those people that nothing outside of hunting makes her lose her cool, it’s one of the reasons he fell for her.

Dean approaches cautiously, reaches out placing his hands on her shoulders and slowly running his hands up and down her arms. “Baby, it’ll be fine but you need to calm down,” softly speaking in the soothing voice he used to use to calm Sam down when he was little and having a nightmare. “Now, what are we fixing for dinner?”

“Salmon Croquettes with wild rice and steamed asparagus.” Y/N glances over at the tablet, “I can’t understand why Jack would give me this, he knows I can’t even boil water outside of a tea kettle and...what do you mean we?”

“You really think Jack would intentionally let you cook anything outside of a bowl of cereal after the Cajun waffle incident?”

“They weren’t that bad.” 

“Sweetheart, we had to buy a new waffle iron.”

 “Alright Guy Fieri, what does yours say?” Dean pulls the coupon out of his pocket.

DESERT NIGHT

“I got your favorites and if you're a good girl,” Dean pauses, licking his lips teasingly, “I’ll let you decide how to devour them.”

*****                           

Dean grabs his jacket off the chair back and heads to the library looking forward to tonight's activities. Well, he’s part of it anyways since Y/N hinted hers was something he never ever did.

Dean steps up into the room and stops dead in his tracks when he sees Y/N sitting at the table in her outfit for evening. 

“Damn sweetheart.” 

“You don’t clean up to bad yourself Winchester,” Y/N remarks as she gets up walking around him, seeming to be mentally undressing him, “and since I don’t know where we’re doing tonight I was thinking that if you play your cards right,” she leans up, her voice husky next to his ear, “you might get lucky.” 

Dean takes his plump lower lip between his teeth and slowly lets it slide out making Y/N’s breath hitch as they stare into each other's eyes.

“So what are we doing tonight?” Y/N inquiries in a slightly breather voice than normal.

DATE NIGHT

Dean slides his arms around her waist, “I was thinking of taking you somewhere you haven’t been in a while,” he leans down kissing along her collarbone, moving up the side of her neck, “depends on what your half of the evening entails.” 

 Y/N retrieves the coupon from her jeans back pocket and Dean groans, dropping his head onto her shoulder.

SLOW DANCE

 “I was thinking we can do what this coupon literally says or we could interpret it a different way.”

 “Okay, I'm listening.” Dean mumbles.

“Well, there was no specific instruction from Jack as to what type of slow dance...” Dean’s head snaps up, his pupils dilating to the point the mossy green color has all but disappeared as Y/N keeps talking about the different types of slow dancing they could try.

“What are you asking?” Dean interrupts, his whisky roughened voice is even more gravelly sounding as his aching with desire.

Y/N walks backwards till her hips bump against the library's table, hops up on it leaning back onto her elbows, “I’ve had a rough day and honestly all I want right now is a drink and someone to cuddle with.” 

~~~~

Later that night

“So we agree we're not gonna tell them the real reason for our fight?” Y/N asks as she finishes braiding her shower damp hair, sitting at the foot of the bed. Deans leaning against the headboard with their last two coupons sitting upside down next to his sweat pant clad hip.

“They’ll think it’s stupid, especially Sam,” Dean remarks, “so, you ready to admit that Die Hard is a Christmas movie.” 

“Nope, you're never gonna convince me,” Y/N pronounces as she climbs onto Dean's lap leaning forward to softly brush her lips over Dean's before sitting back and picking up the coupons turns them over...

YOU WIN THE FIGHT  

YOU WIN THE FIGHT

“I think we better hang on to these, ya know, just in case.”

[is-the-driving-good]

shit I forgot to run this blog at all. this idea is too complicated to put into posts in the moment. I am very tired and live a busy life.

However, I did also spend so long playing Test Drive Unlimited that I definitely know about how it plays.

PSP version is very odd. It looks great, but because of the PlayStation Portable's shitty singular analog stick, handling in TDU feels very sensitive and bad to emulate. It is unclear if this would be a problem playing in original hardware, but for comparison, emulating Ridge Racer 2, Gran Turismo and Midnight Club 3 on PPSSPP does not bring the same feeling at all (to an extent).

Next is the Windows version, which I unfortunately only played for a few minutes. It's weird and difficult to get working (properly) in modern hardware and I was not willing to install a bunch of patches and fan mods to maybe fix this as I have better things to do with my time currently. It did control quite well, though.

The PS2 version (which is exactly like the PSP version, just with more buttons and a car interior view) is the one I actually played. And yes, I can say that the driving is good.

Test Drive Unlimited has okay driving physics. It is not a simulator, and is not very fun or flashy compared to its arcadey racing peers. Its focus is much more directed in things like atmosphere, immersion, world design, roleplay, etc. And it does succeed in those things.

Driving is simple. You have a gas pedal, a brake, and a handbrake. I haven't checked if manual transmission is an option in the later gen versions of the game, as I thought that that would be annoying.

Cars are also weighty; you can easily slide off the road (something the game really discourages) or collide against things if you're not careful with your metal machine.

Drifting is absolutely a thing you can do in the game, even getting some campaign points for doing it, but simply slowing down before most turns will get you through the game just fine. This is no Ridge Racer.

A mechanic I often forget about is the vacuum stealing or whatever it's called. If you drive straight behind another car, you will accelerate easier because--I don't know man, you've studied this in your physics class, I did too, birds do this in real life, you know how it works. Aerodynamics.

The problems with the driving come most with collisions, and the AI. Hitting something with your car will not destroy it - there are zero crash mechanics in the game - but it will slow you down or spin you out. If you hit a car really fast, they will also spin, and possibly get in the way of other cars, causing a mess of traffic. The AI is equally capable as you of causing a traffic accident, even against you, and are not well programmed (if at all) to avoid this. In the early game, I've seen my adversaries hit straight into an electrical post with no input of influence of mine. In the late game, I've often seen my opponents crash directly into each other and spin out right in front of me (sometimes making me spin out too).

So, the AI is a nightmare, but they're also a pushover. The real challenge of this game is your own skill. Test Drive Unlimited PS2 has three different types of challenges: races, time attacks, and speed challenges.

Races (either against 3-5 other cars or 1 rival) are just that: races. You go from one part of the road to another, either in laps or one straight go. In some normal races, and in all rival races, you are penalized if all 4 of your wheels touch the outside of the road (the dirt). Races are segmented into checkpoints on the road, so you can't just drive in the general direction of the finish and expect that to do anything for you. Like I said before, your opponents are a pushover (if you have the right kind of car for the job, anyway. you can't go in an Expert race with a D class car and expect to win), so just worry about doing the circuit right. Don't let them spin you out, though. Races start off at 1-3 minutes, and by the late game you'll have a bunch of 6-10 minute races, and a few 15-30.

Time attacks, are just that without other drivers. They tend to be shorter, though I've played less of them. Just go with an upgraded car and you should get a gold trophy.

The third challenge, is one of those speed limit things you see in Forza. Go through all the points on the road in this short amount of time, and then the game will calculate your time left with the speed you had on each point, and then give your score based on that. They're easy, but I actively avoided them, because they're not very fun.

I give the PlayStation 2 version of Test Drive Unlimited's driving 3.5 Stars out of 5. It's good enough for what this game is about. And I've played it for so long just to relax that I don't think I could ask for better. It's just, sometimes you spin out and have to reset a 20 minute race and it makes me a bit angry. It's really easy to spin out, man.

Also, important note: it is possible to drive a Nissan Skyline R34 in this game. However, being a D class Japanese car in a game set in 2006 Hawai'i, it's not long before it is basically unusable. I give Test Drive Unlimited a score of 1 and a half Nissan Skylines R34 out of 3

Here is an image of a 4 car race in the game with all black R34's. I couldn't really take many screenshots so this is all I have for you. It's just four cars. On a road. There's some trees. The game is paused.