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sanchoyo · 4 years ago

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danny phantom episode 4-7 Thoughts: (under a readmore because, these got kinda long!)

-the outfit danny had to buy for dash's party. CLASSIC 2000S i cannot stop laughing. And also showing up to the party and everyone is dressed like the trio is hilarious. and further proof that everyone looks good dressed goth.

-dash has a closet full of cute lil bear plushies?? LOVE that. adorable. also his response to danny trashing his room fighting a ghost was SO valid if somone BROKE MY BED IN HALF ID BE PISSED TOO.

-technus being like 'oh smart, u should be a tutor!' then later being like 'forget tutor, be a teacher!' :) supportive king <3 I also really like his upgraded suit/design. AND SPOCK CAMEO??? HELLO??

-the music in this show is super. its so funky. I looked it up and the guy who does it, guy moon (awesome name) also did music for other cartoons like fairly odd parents, barnyard, chalkzone, billy & mandy, AND some actual movies like FIGHT CLUB??? the whiplash I got from reading that)

-sam being rich explains a lot about her, actually.

-I know the moral of the episode was supposed to be 'dont ditch your friends for popular people/spend a lot of money on clothes that arent You to Fit In'. but tbh. it wouldve been easy for danny to have been like 'well, okay, ill come but only if my friends can!' but I get. that hes 14. so. not a lot to say there.

-BOX GHOST IS BACK!!!!! also, danny sitting up and wearing the dress/wig/makeup. umm thats how I dress everyday LMFAO. unironically me. (hate the jokes that boil down to 'haha funney man in dress' tho. but this is a look)

-jazz being protective of her brother once again being like NOOO YOU GUYS BETTER NOT STAKE OUT HIS (actually haunted) LOCKER!! shes aware of how people perceive him and she wants to help :( which is also probably why she told dash to invite him to that party even tho she had no interest in going!! she wants to help him out :(

-gotta say im with tucker on the whole 'should danny use his powers to get back at bullies' debate. 100% yes. let him teach kids to fight back. making dash throw his food at paulina out of the blue? no. but when hes actually about to pick on someone? yeah! for self defense? YEAH! if dash and his friends just threw food at him, I think rather than. idk doing sneaky shit with frogs he couldve just threw it back and not pulled punches if they tried to fight. I kNOOWWW its a kids show so they are like 'if u fight back ur just as bad!! violence bad!!' but. theyre HIS POWERS. WHO CARES.

-like my only gripe is that dash really isnt LEARNING ANYTHING WHEN DANNY GETS BACK AT HIM IN THE MOST PETTY INDIRECT WAYS. whatever they had to add a bully psa episode I guess. I hate it and I hate the way cartoons usually handle it because these methods simply Do Not Work. 'aND YouRE USinG YOur poWErs FOR EVill???!' this is Not Evil. even when poindexter takes dannys body, theyre only being 'nice' bc hes stealing soda for them!! bitches deserve what they get (nothing too brutal bc theyre high schoolers but damn, if they pick on danny he doesnt need to be the 'bigger person' he needs to start biting people)

-SAM TRYING TO SMUGGLE FROGS OUT OF THE BIO LAB?? girl in middle school when we had to dissect frogs we could opt out, also, they came to us already dead and preserved...

-sidney's lingo and the fact hes in black and white is sending me. also, danny is a ghost celebrity apparently for being a halfa?? ok. thats interesting to know

-the DENTIST BEING EXCITED ABOUT THE COTTON CANDY FLOOD IS THE FUNNIEST THING SO FAR.

-I LOOOVE the trope of 'wishes gone wrong'. not crazy about the stereotypical genie, or the use of the dreamcatcher looking design. (also, I KNOW theyre scientists but the way theyre handling a cold...are the fentons ANTIVAX)

-the genie. she. whitewished paulina. JKASDFHKJ. (the ghost literally just being hello kitty???? im dying) 'why do i feel that im special and wonderful? because I AM! <3' paulina ilu self worth queen. felt bad for her also getting possessed by (2) boys later who were arguing INSIDE HER. WTF.

-imagine being the guy trapped in his now flying car. he thought danny and tucker were HALUCINATIONS. imagine being trapped in a flying car with two, what you think are imaginary arguing 14 year olds convinced ur gonna die. i WOULD say this dude is gonna need so much therapy, but he seemed totally fine and excited when they landed (I would be happy too if a chicken was on my head. chickens rule) stoner rights

-sam's bat slippers??? iconic. SO cute.

-I think desiree's backstory is so :( do all ghosts have messed up sad backstories?? poindexter's was sad too...cannot imagine box ghost has any kind of fucked up backstory. but what if. his mom got pushed off cliffs by boxes...........a la cruella... anyway her 'no man may lay a hand on me' iconic. ilu

-I know danny has no concept of how much bras cost but my god dont attack tucker with some girls bra. those are so expensive.

-its really. well its not a GOOD THING he went into the portal and got fucked up, but its good danny was the one to do it rather than sam or tucker. because even tho he was being influenced by desiree and kept getting more malicious and it prob wasnt 100% him...he sucked as a ghost like most the people he 'pranked' were innocent ppl just Chillin and he didnt want to help anyone at all. I think danny is the most responsible out of them but also, hes 14 and shouldnt HAVE to feel obligated to fight every ghost. hes a good kid and wants to, but I also feel like he feels like...responsible for the portal turning on?? because his parents did give it up,, but it was an accident and not his fault (if anything, why was the on switch on the inside. why was it that easy. why was there no safety measures. that seems like smth OSHA needs to hear about). like thats my son. hes a good boy. and hes never done anything wrong in his life, ever. if anyone hurts him im killing everyone in this room and then myself. etc.

-danny's curfew is 10PM????? DUDE. when I was 14...shit I couldn't be out that late, I had to be back at like, 8 at the latest, and my parents had to know exactly where and who I was going with, AND i had to call/text them regularly...is this a case of my parents being overbearing, or the fentons sucking??? the only time i could EVER be out that late was if I was at an overnight sleepover or smth...

-the vultures have lil fezes. why do they have fezes...theyre so fuckin funny 'ask him for directions' 'I KNOW WHERE IM GOING' these ghost vultures are my new grandpas. pick them up, put them in the adopt box.

-'I wonder why those guys were trying to waste dad!' THEYRE GHOSTS. YOUR DAD HUNTS GHOSTS. why is that not a conclusion you'd immediately jump to??

-*jazz voice, clearly disgusted* WISCONSIN???

-mrs fenton with the lab coat and leg warmers and PERM. YESSS STYLISH.

-was going to say 'ew billionaire' @vlad but. super valid he used his powers to assumedly steal and cheat to get that money, thats how all billionaires do it! but ew hes a SIMP. and spending your billions on FOOTBALL STUFF?? you are Not Valid overall. I DO respect the fact you have a castle instead of a mansion. in wisconsin. if youre going to be stupidly rich might as well go all out, torches on the wall and all. I DO like his ghost form's little kitty ears. catman. and his cape! every design can benefit from a cape. and how different his forms look, like danny looks the EXACT SAME IN BOTH FORMS ASIDE FROM COLOR CHANGES. vlad's is like,, I could believe they were different people!! also I love the drama. but dude you are fighting a 14 year old. lame. also he was like, telling danny he wanted his mom and him and like, wanted him to renounce his dad?? WHAT ABOUT JAZZ?? bitch. those r MY kids and they are both important and special. I do agree they need better parents but thats not u sir <3

-I thought vlad's 'little badger' nickname for danny came from the football mascot of the packers, but google says they have NO MASCOT?? so now I'm like?? is it because his hair is sometimes black and sometimes white?? I hate to give him props but thats a PERFECT NICKNAME. theyre also tiny and vicious!

-why did I get so excited that Skulker is back!! its been like. 2-3 eps LMAO. AND THE DAIRY KING. ICONIC I LOVE HIM. hes the nicest guy ever :) more nice ghosts please. danny cannot be fighting alone everytime with no ghost buds like every ghost being hostile sucks :(

-mr. fenton knew vlad was controlling him, but a few episodes ago he had no clue danny was doing the same thing...is it something about how malicious the ghost is?? he just seemed to think his memory had gaps the first time, this time he was INSTANTLY LIKE 'GHOST'. then again in this ep when danny did it again he was just slightly confused but not immediately freaking out like he did with vlad possessing him!!

-'my parents will accept ME NO MATTER WHAT' so. so why haven't you come out to them yet, danny?? if you really think that?? if theres no harm, and you're sure??? if vlad is a real problem, wouldnt that make dealing with him easier, to expose him???? SO WHY HAVENT YOU COME OUT YET?? COULD IT BE,, MAYBE YOU HAVE DOUBTS ABOUT WHETHER YOUR PARENTS ACTUALLY WILL ACCEPT YOU??? 🤔 ... 🏳‍🌈 I get why people say He Is Trans. I totally totally get u danny.

-sorta unrelated, but it just occurred to me in one of these eps they go to casper HIGH not casper middle school??? theyre 14?? dont highschools usually do ages 15-18? (I didnt go to hs so I might be wrong, if I am ignore this...) freshmen are usually 14-15, could just be a case of them not turning 15 yet but they will sometime in the school year (I say they because tucker said he was 14 too)? I know the show has 3 seasons, so by the end of it will they be older? thatd be neat but usually cartoon characters stay the same age...I love shows where you can see the characters age and grow up, though...three seasons seems like a long time to spend on like, 1 year...

#sanchoyorambles #danny phantom #me on the first post:#its not a liveblog!#me this time: it kinda is. but not in the same format as my tmm one #i like doing one post for a handful of eps bc it saves time #and crowds my blog less #and also i just like talking abt what im watching lol #dp thoughts

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veeranger · 4 years ago

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can you maybe talk about Va-11 Hall-A? you talking about it a little made me remember i had to play it so i did and I liked it a lot and would like to hear your opinions as I respect you

its only been a few days but i think ive reached all the conclusions about the game i need to. i think VA-11 HALL-A is a really good game and a great visual novel yes its a visual novel dont @ me im right. actually i think its funny the game tells you to curl up with a blanket and snacks like its gunna be a chill relaxing experience because like tonally speaking its kind of not. theres some heavy shit in the game especially near the end and its not the kind of light chatting simulator you might think it is. not saying i think its a stressful game or anything but i alwys thought that was funny.

anyway heres my real thoughts. im gunna put it under a readmore for spoilers after a certain point

oh also make sure you play the prologue chapter and the anna demo. those are extremely important despite being hidden behind a nondescript menu icon that the game makes no effort to tell you about. thats genuinely my only complaint about the game

there’s a quote by mike pondsmith, the creator of the cyberpunk ttrpg about how cyberpunk “...can not be about saving the world. You’re saving yourself or your community. The stakes have to be something that involves the player. You can’t just say, ‘The world is craptastic and you can’t do anything about it.’ No. You don’t have to save the world, but you need to be able to save your mother or the apartment you and your friends live in.”

and i think that ideology was, intentionally or otherwise, probably otherwise because im pretty sure pondsmith gave this quote a few years after VA-11 HALL-A came out, very clearly captured in this story. Jill and her friends live in this terrible shitty city in a terrible shitty world but thats just the setting yknow. glitch city is a backdrop to tell a series of small scale personal stories, not about “surviving in a hellish dystopian” but just...living in the real world. thats just real life for these people you know. every story told in the game is very personal. nobody is blowing up corporate buildings or igniting a revolution its just like, dorothy reconciling her anxieties about being close to her mother, alma’s family troubles, stella and sei’s mutuals traumas and their close relationship, Jill’s grappling with her own life choices. its nothing crazy its very pedestrian and lowkey, its not exactly something you’d expect from a game with CYBERPUNK stamped on the subtitle but it fits the genre extremely well.

if nothing else VA-11 HALL-A is extremely well grounded in the reality its set in, everything feels lived in and real, like glitch city is a real place you could go to or something. all those newspaper articles about big events right next to articles about some lilim idol or reruns of a nostalgic anime and the danger/u/ posts about weird conspiracies and arguments about stupid weeb shit it just creates a wholesale sense of realism. i once saw someone complain that in persona 5, you only ever hear other students and people in the streets of tokyo talk about whatever is currently happening in the story and at the time i dismissed it as nitpicking but after VA-11 HALL-A i understand that a little better, it creates a game world that only revolves around the player’s actions and story as opposed to a world that keeps turning on its own that your character just so happens to live in. the story of the game might be about Jill and her friends but the world itself is not centered on them, it doesn’t even know they exist. that’s just excellent worldbuilding imo.

now at this point i want to talk about Jill’s story and please if you haven’t played VA-11 HALL-A yet and are reading this and you have any thoughts about playing the game please stop here and go play it first I don’t want to spoil this really good story for you.

man i really liked Jill’s story. i had no idea it was coming so the whole thing sidelined me as much as it did Jill when she heard that Lenore died. the way every aspect of the story was handled was so good. i felt the same way Jill did when she lashed out at Gaby for lashing out at her, i felt the same regret she did after she calmed down and realized she screamed at a grieving little girl and i felt the same kind of anxiety she felt when she had a second chance to talk to Gaby and make things right. every note of the story hit for me and it was just good good good. i liked that Jill was able to come to terms with her own poor choices without hoisting all the blame on herself or absolving herself of any wrongdoing either, i liked that she was able to move on and free herself from feeling shackled to her past but was still able to say that she loved Lenore and still does. i liked that it was a gay story even if it was tragic, it was respectful and well written. i also just love love loved how she was able to reconcile with Gaby and start being her big sister again. obviously if you know me you know that’s something i love and so i was extremely pleased with how they were able to continue that relationship.

just yknow...its like pondsmith said. you cant save the world but you need to be able to save your mother or the apartment you and your friends live in. Jill is able to save herself, save Gaby, not from dying or anything but just like...just from pain yknow. she helps Dorothy save herself and commit to wanting to be with her mother and that in turn helps Anna. she helps Stella and Sei find closure for a traumatic experience in their lives. But even then she can’t save the bar, or save everyone she loves from living in a horrible world. VA-11 HALL-A still closes down in the end but hopefully if you mixed your drinks right everyone you love is able to move forward a little better than how you found them and i think thats pretty damn cool. VA-11 HALL-A is a really good story and its a neat little game.

oh also i loved Anna she was such a fun presence. make sure you play the Anna chapter after you beat the game!

#Anonymous #apple post

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nuttyrabbit · 4 years ago

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Giovanni Conti Bio

“Nutty, are you only going to show up to post about Archie Sonic and your OCs?” Yes, yes I am

Anyways, I decided to throw together a quick bio for Gambit’s dad because hey I figured his stuff out and I’m doing shit with him now.

Shoutouts to @pidgeonspen for doing his design for me.

Anyways, as always, everything’s under the readmore

Name: Giovanni Conti (Real name Brando Romilla)

Age: Approximately 50 years old

Height: 3'4"

Occupation: Auto mechanic/Conman

Location: Unknown, last confirmed sighting in Westopolis. Originally born in Lugaio, Spagonia.

Sexuality: Bisexual, though greatly prefers women to the point of denying any male attraction

Personality: Giovanni's personality is what one would expect from a seasoned conman: charismatic, self-serving, and conniving, the weasel finds success in his trade thanks to his natural talent in dealing with others. To his victims, Giovanni appears to be a charming, compassionate, smooth-talking individual who seems to go out of his way to help others in their time of need. But of course it's all a farce, a way to con unsuspecting victims out of their hard-earned cash. In reality, the man formerly known as Brando Romilla is the exact opposite. A selfish, grumpy, and temperamental weasel "behind the scenes", Giovanni finds himself unwilling to engage with the world around him outside of whatever con he's cooked up or to get out of whatever mess he's gotten himself into this time.

Giovanni's most defining personality trait however, isn't his sardonic attitude or his smoothtalking ways, but instead his paranoia. Giovanni has spent the majority of his life on the run and it shows. He often finds himself looking over his shoulder both figuratively and quite literally, hoping that his latest victim hasn't found out about him or that the law or the mafia or whoever he's crossed hasn't tracked him down to enact their revenge. As such, Giovanni is extremely hesitant to give out his name unless absolutely necessary for the con, even going so far as to make up fake names in emergency situations, though the truth eventually comes out. In addition, he trusts absolutely nobody and almost always looks for a way to backstab/escape any sort of partnership he's found himself on the receiving end of, willing or otherwise.

All of this being said, it isn't *all* bad for Giovanni personality-wise, for when the weasel finds something he actually likes, one can see a softer, more eager side of him come out. Despite his professed hatred of his previous job, Giovanni has a rather deep appreciation for the intricacies of vehicles and vehicle repairs, even going so far as to sneak into antique car shows to gawk at the new vehicles and reminisce about the "good old days" before it "got so complicated" in terms of technology. Oddly enough, he also loves vinyl.

Skills: Giovanni is of course, an incredibly skilled con-man, imploying a variety of cons and scams to trick people out of their money, ranging from simple "tourist trap" tricks such as "no change", "toll booth", and "free gift", to more complicated ones such as "flat tire" schemes and even reselling stolen/counterfeit items at a significantly marked up price. His variety in terms of cons is helped by his ability to sell them thanks to his smooth-talking charismatic persona that he puts on during them. As a result of his occupation he's also extremely adept at pointing out other cons/knowing when he's being duped. Not only that, but he's even picked up some basic lockpicking/hotwiring and ID forging skills, though they aren't quite as honed as his other talents in the area.

Surprisingly enough, again despite his professed dislike of his childhood job, Giovanni is an incredibly skilled mechanic, being able to assess the issues with (mostly older) vehicles just from a few minutes of observation and testing alone and fixing it in record times. OF course he'll complain about how he's "too fuckin' old" for it, but he'll do a damn good job...and even enjoy himself somewhat. He claims he would be unable to work on "new-fangled" vehicles such as Extreme Gear but if he were to get the chance, would find that he'd be a natural at it.

Likes: Antique vehicles, wine, the feeling when he pulls of a con, vinyl records, fresh pressed suits, rare steak, expensive cigars, older women, working on antique vehicles.

Dislikes: The law, organized crime outfits, his ex-wife, his kid, getting caught, prison, cheap beer, "new" technology, people who talk too much, his grandfather, working on vehicles (his relationship with auto repair is..complicated), staying in one place for too long.

Backstory: Brando Rombilla was born into anything but normalcy: born to a pair of younger Spagonian lovers, the result of a tryst gone wrong, he was abandoned on the steps of his paternal grandfather, the widowed mechanic Angelo Rombilla, who would raise the weasel as his own.

Angelo was an old, stubborn, hardworking man who had spent his entire life toiling away as a mechanic, even coming to own his own shop...yet despite it all, he never quite had a lot to show for it, and Brando grew up in not quite poverty, but in...less than modest means

Despite this...unusual situation, Brando would, at least for a time, grow up as any other child would, going to school, making friends, and living as a normal Spagonian child would--at least until he hit the age of 12-13, where his father suddenly and inexplicably ground his childhood to a halt, pulling him out of school and telling him that he was going to be a "working man" from now on, that he'd have to help out at the shop and help put food at the table--and that is indeed what happened.

From then on, Brando found himself working at the modest repair shop, working the front desk, doing oil changes, and learning the ins and outs of auto repair--and he fucking hated it.

Not just because he'd been robbed of the experiences his peers were getting, but it served as a constant reminder of the (at least to him) pathetic conditions in which they lived and worked. In addition, it only served to exacerbate his sheer irritation at his father's stubbornness and near-perfectionist standards.

But over time, as he aged and saw his peers move on to bigger and better things, he realized something else: all this work, all this "good, honest, hard" work he'd been doing, that his grandfather had been doing, that he wanted him to inherit, it was getting them nowhere

The both of them spent years and years doing the same shit over and over, and they were no better off than when they'd started. They still lived like shit, ate like shit, and worked like dogs, and the idea of doing this his entire life revolted him. Yet when he'd bring this up, he'd just get shouted down, beaten down, and told to get back to work. He loathed it all.

Then one day, around the time Giovanni hit 19--it all changed. In a moment of what his grandfather would call laziness and what Brando would later call ingenuity, he accidentally charged a customer for something they hadn't done--and with it, more money than he should've had. It suddenly hit him, his way out, his way to actually do something about all of this. It started off slow, an overcharge here, a useless job done there, a job not done this way or that, even some front product sold off of lies. Before Brando knew it, the shop was actually making money for once, and more than that, he was making money. And the best part was, that for once, Angelo seemed like he didn't have a stick up his ass. He seemed...happy, over the moon really that things had begun to look up. Things seemed to finally be getting better!

....until Angelo caught Brando in the act, after which the mother of all shouting matches ensued, of the grandson and grandfather screaming at each other about this and that, about everything--and saw Brando being thrown out of the shop, out of his grandfather's home--and out of his life

Out on his ass with only the money he'd pocketed and the clothes on his back to his name, Brando by all rights should have been terrified about his future, livid about what had happened, but instead he found himself excited. Now that his grandpappy or his stupid shop wasn't a problem anymore, he could finally do something with himself, and he knew exactly what that'd be--putting to use the same bullshittery that'd gotten him here to begin with.

And so the young weasel found himself hopping all over Spagonia, honing his craft. Whether it be through pinching wares from stores and selling them nearby at an outrageously hiked price, snatching and selling bootleg items, or even using his mechanic skills to craft "wonder items" that were quite literally just old scrapyard junk, Brando soon became quite adept at the art of the con. However, with that adeptness came attention, and with that attention came the watchful eye of the law, which attempted to crack down on the weasel multiple times as he traveled about Spagonia.

Soon enough, his face and name were plastered on wanted signs, in local papers, and in time, he couldn't run any longer, finally being booked on fraud charges and placed in prison for ~ 3 years at the age of 22. Upon getting out, Brando realized that he couldn't exactly do his work here anymore, lest he get thrown back in for good.

But Soleanna wasn't exactly appealing either, especially since the SPD were notorious for cracking down on fraudsters. He was at a loss at what to do, until he managed to catch a TV broadcast talking about Empire City and it hit him- EC would be the perfect place to disappear and get a fresh start. It was big, it was far away, and it was full of suckers just waiting to be parted with their money Forging himself a new identity (quite literally) as "Giovanni Conti" , he smuggled himself on board a ship and soon found himself in Empire City, where he almost immediately got to work--and found the results to be not what he expected

While the toursts were complete suckers as expected, the residents were anything but, and he found himself on the run from the law once more--and in addition, the various criminal orgs that made their homes there and had no tolerance for being scammed. Needless to say, the whole thing frustrated him, and with no other way to vent his frustrations, he turned to drinking, and with it, found himself at a small bar in downtown EC, drinking away his frustrations...and chatting up an equally frustrated, and rather attractive young woman. He didn't catch her last name, but certainly caught her first- Artemis

What should have just been a simple one night tryst suddenly got a lot more complicated once the young woman had tracked him down almost a week later with some soul-crushing news: She was pregnant, and it was almost certainly by him. To make matters worse, Artemis was an up and coming politician, someone in the running for the EC City Council, and she would be DAMNED if it came out that she got knocked up in a one night stand, that would ruin her career! Despite Giovanni's attempts at arguing otherwise, she also insisted on keeping the child, claiming that if word got out she got rid of it, it would ruin her career. Threatening to hand him over to authorities, she blackmailed him into sticking by her side for the following 9 months, appearing in front of the cameras as a pictureesque pair of parents-to-be, Artemis embracing the newfound attention and Giovanni absolutely loathing all the eyes on him, and not only that, but also moving in together to her (admittedly) lavish apartment.

This continued up on through the end of the pregnancy and into the birth of their son, who Artemis named "Tai", a (perhaps ironic) homage to an old Apotosian patron of Luck. From then, things continued normally, well as least as normal as could be for the unwitting parents-to-be, up until the child was around a year old, when Artemis went on a sudden vacation. Left alone with the child and feeling helplessly trapped, Giovanni contemplated making a break for it, perhaps faking his own death and figuring out the details later, when a hooded figure burst into the home and attempted to shoot both him and the child dead. Through a near-miraculous stroke of luck though, the intruder's gun jammed, giving Giovanni the chance to brandish a knife and stab them in the jugular. His heart pounding, his mind racing, Giovanni quickly put two and two together: someway, somehow, Artemis had tried to get the two of them whacked. Quickly disposing of the body and without really thinking about it, Giovanni grabbed the child and made a break for it, bolting from the apartment and leaving Empire City under cover of darkness, trying to make sure he left no trace that he had left--or was even still alive.

Soon arriving in Westopolis, Giovanni and Tai found a small apartment to squat in for the time being. Quickly settling in, Giovanni quickly fell back into his old ways, and found the people of Westopolis far more vulnerable to his schemes than in EC. Still, the weasel wasn't happy. His "new start" that he'd hoped for had fallen apart before it'd even gotten the chance to get off the ground because of *her*, Artemis. Giovanni's frustration gnawed away at him--not helped by the tiny weasel at home, his little boy--the *mistake* that'd gotten him into this mess. He often found himself verbally and physically taking out his frustrations on young Tai, even more so when it turned out the little brat wasn't even good enough to help him on cons. He wished he could get rid of the little bastard once and for all, but for some reason, he just couldn't bring himself to kill him despite his best efforts.

Years went by, but nothing truly changed for the pair, until young Tai was 8 years old and Giovanni found himself on the bad end of a con gone wrong, having inadvertently found himself attempting to swindle an undercover cop. Rushing back to the apartment he and Tai shared, he quickly grabbed whatever tools he could and attempted to disappear, leaving the young Tai behind for good.

Throwing himself out of the frying pan and into the proverbial fire, Giovanni had managed to disappear and evade the cops---and run right into one of his "victims": "Downtown" Ebony Hare--a "made man" in the Carnades, one of the major local outfits--and someone who he'd given a shoddy brake job. Ebony recognized the weasel almost immediately and motioned to off him for messing up his car, but after Giovanni pleaded for his life, Ebony spared him-- on the condition that he work off his "debts" to him and the Carnades.

Faced with either paying his dues or paying with his life, Giovanni made the obvious choice and ended up doing quite a few small jobs for Ebony over the course of the next decade and change (approx 13 years) not only fixing his car but also fixing the other vehicles in the outfit--and giving a disgustingly large portio nof the proceeds from his other "work" directly to Ebony. Once again, Giovanni was trapped doing the very thing he'd been stuck doing since childhood and not only that, but also indebted to a mobster who had no intention of letting him go. He desperately tried to find a way out, but it was to no avail--until a near miraculous stroke of "luck".

The Black Arms invasion decimated a significant portion of Mobius, especially Northamer, and no place found itself worse off than Westopolis. For most living there, it seemed like the end times as the city burned around them. But for Giovanni, it was an opportunity to finally disappear--and never come back.

The invasion soon ended, the repairs soon begun, and the Carnades began to operate once more--but Giovanni was nowhere to be found. Despite a thorough search of the city, the weasel had just...vanished, presumably killed by the aliens or escaping to parts unknown after.

Giovanni's current location is unknown and those who know of him believe him to be dead, but there have been some apparent sightings of the aged con-man. Some say they've seen him on the outskirts of Sand Blast City, others say they've seen him working his trade with another individual down in the Southern Baronies, and some even say that he's still in Westopolis, working his craft, and sticking close to the headquarters of the East Side Pack, a noted rival of the Carnades.

#OC Refs and Bios #Sonic OC #OC Stuff #Sonic FC #Archie Sonic #Sonic #Sonic the Hedgehog #Giovanni Conti the Weasel #Gambit the Weasel

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sub-hoshi-enthusiast · 5 years ago

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can we have sub!Lou calling the reader mommy while she fingers him? Please🥺

Thank you for the request! I mention SF9 in this story, but I don't think I'm ready to open requests for them yet, since I don't know much about them. I have been listening to Pentagon a lot and am comfortable with making imagines for them so Pentagon requests are now open if anyone want to request any.

⚠️Warnings⚠️: sub!Lou, fem!dom!reader, mommy kink, fingering (male recieving)

Love at First Sight

You had known Dawon for a few years now, so you had known all of his friends pretty well. Dawon had also known that you were pretty antisocial and wouldn't talk to people unless you had to, though once you did start talking you didn't really have any problems. He wasn't really one to meddle in one's social life, but he dragged you to a little get together he was having with his friend, Ayno, and the rest of both their bands, claiming you needed more friends. You had met the rest of SF9 and Ayno, but hadn't met the other members of VAV. You threw on ripped jeans and a random t-shirt from your closet, grabbing your leather jacket and putting on your converse after you brushed your hair. As you finished tying your shoes, you heard a car horn honk from outside and opened your door to see Dawon sitting in his car waiting for you with Taeyang and Youngbin.

:readmore:

"Is everyone else already there?" You asked as you entered the car.

"Nah, the other members are taking a van to fit all of them and we're meeting in a restaurant close to VAV's dorms so they're already there." You nodded in understanding and continued to talk to the boys about random things until you pulled up to the restaurant. You looked through the window and saw the other members of SF9 happily talking to Ayno and a few other people you didn't recognize. You all hopped out of the car and entered the restaurant, quickly walking over to their table.

"Hey guys!" Dawon greeted as you neared the table. Everyone immediately quieted down and turned towards his voice with a smile before greeting all of you. Ayno stood up and walked over to give Dawon a hug before turning and hugging you as well.

"Guys, I want you all to meet (y/n)!" Ayno said enthusiastically with his arm around your shoulder. The boys you didn't recognize waved at you with a smile.

"(Y/n), this is Geumhyuk, Baron, Ace, Jacob, Ziu, and Lou." Each waved with a polite 'hello' after their name was said. Your eyes lingered on the last boy for a second before you waved back politely. Damn he's cute. You thought to yourself before he shyly looked away. You took a seat in front of Lou, since it was the only seat available (not that you were complaining). You stole glances at him every once in a while throughout the night, not noticing him doing the same. Dawon, however, did notice the shy little glances Lou would throw your way before his ears turned red and a small smile would spread across his face. Dawon smiled brightly and nudged Ayno with his elbow, making him look up at him in confusion. Dawon quickly gestured to you and Lou, and they looked at each other with determination in their eyes.

You were laughing at a joke Lou had said as you left the restaurant. You didn't notice how he smiled at your laugh with a sparkle in his eyes. Dawon and Ayno smiled at each other before Dawon told Hwiyoung to get in their car while you were distracted and gestured for the other van to drive away. When you turned back around, you were confused to see Hwiyoung in your seat.

"Oh, man, sorry. Hey Ayno, could one of you give her a ride home?" Dawon yelled over to him. Ayno smiled brightly and nodded his head, running over to you before dragging you to their van. As Geumhyuk was moving to sit beside Lou, Ayno pulled him out and moved him to the front seat.

"What the hell are you doing?" Geumhyuk asked Ayno as everyone got situated in the car. Ayno quietly gestured to the rear view mirror, showing him Lou's blushing face as you situated yourself next to him. Geumhyuk smiled giddily, before he got an idea.

"Hey, Ayno, I'm sure a lot of us are tired, so you could drop us off at the dorms and someone could stay and drive her home." Ayno smiled brightly at the suggestion.

"That's a good idea. Hey Lou, why don't you drive her back home?" Jacob was about to protest, saying he could just drive her home since he wasn't that tired, but Ace elbowed him in the side and shook his head no. Jacob looked at him in confusion.

"I'll explain it to you when we get inside." He whispered to Jacob as they pulled into the dorm parking lot. The rest of the members jumped out of the car before Ayno threw a stuttering Lou the car keys and ran to the dorm room with the other members. You both sat in silence for a moment before you unbuckled and opened the car door.

"Well, we better get moving. It's already pretty late." You said as you moved to the front seat. Lou nodded and followed closely behind you before cranking the car and driving where you directed him. You were both laughing at a story you told as you pulled into your driveway.

"Well, here we are…" you said sadly as you unbuckled. You paused before opening the door and turned to him.

"Can I have your number? It's just that I wanna keep talking to you and I think we should definitely hang out again sometime soon." He smiled brightly before pulling out his phone to get your number.

"Yeah, definitely! Except, um, maybe next time we could go somewhere else… with just the two of us?" He asked quietly and looked up at you with a nervous smile and red ears. You softly smiled and chuckled at his suggestion.

"Are you asking me on a date?" He paused with a panicked expression.

"W-would you say yes if I was?" You laughed.

"Of course I would." He let out a breath and smiled brightly at you.

"Then, yes. Y-yes I am."

"Great, I'll see you later then."

"W-wait!" He exclaimed as you moved to open your door. You turned and looked at him quizzically as he coughed awkwardly.

"I-I'll walk you to your door." You softly smiled and nodded. You paused again when you made it to your door before turning to give him a kiss on the cheek at the same time he turned to say goodbye, making your lips collide. Both of your eyes widened but neither of you pulled away. You slowly closed your eyes and brought your hand up to cup his face. Lou closed his eyes as well and leaned into your touch. He didn't notice the small, submissive whine that fell past his lips until you pulled away. Your eyes widened as you heard the sound and he jerked backwards, covering his mouth after he realized what he did.

"Fuck, I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! I probably weirded you out, I'm sorry! You can rethink the date if you want, I just-" you cut off his rambling as you pulled his head towards you and kissed him again, harder than you had before and pulled away after a few seconds.

"Fuck, that was hot. I want you to make that sound again." He whined again as you bit his lower lip and shoved your tongue in his mouth. You groaned against his lips and dragged him inside, kicking the door closed behind you and locking it. You brought him into another heated kiss as you pressed him against the wall, making him let out a low moan at your dominating aura.

"You sound so fucking pretty baby." He whimpered and felt his legs buckle beneath him at the low growl in your voice. The only thing keeping him up was the tight grip you had on his waist as you bit and sucked on his neck.

"F-fuck, please…" he whined out and gripped your shoulders as you brought your knee up between his thighs, letting him grind his hard-on against it.

"Please what? You're gonna have to be more specific, babyboy." He bit his lip at the pet name and grinded his hips against your leg faster.

"Please fuck me! Please!" He managed to say between moans. You smirked against his neck and dragged him to your bedroom. He was panting heavily by the time you had him pinned beneath you on the bed. You let him catch his breath as you took off his shirt and pressed light butterfly kisses down his chest and stomach. You licked a stripe from above his belly button to the underside of his jaw, making him squirm beneath you with a low moan. You bit down on the junction of his neck to make him moan louder.

"O-oh fuck, please touch me! Fuck, please mommy!" You stopped your actions for a second as you let his words sink in. You could see his face burn bright red in embarrassment, the redness also visible on his ears and all the way down to his chest. Your pupils dilated at the name and you harshly grinded your hips to meet his. He let out another deep moan at the friction as his grip on your shoulders tightened, leaving marks from where his nails dug into your skin.

"You know just what to say to rile me up, don't you baby? Fuck- if you keep saying things like that I'm gonna have trouble holding back." You grunted out through quiet moans as you continued to grind your hips into his. He whined and bucked his hips to occasionally meet yours.

"Then d-don't hold back." He moaned in your ear and moved his hands to remove your shirt and jacket, throwing them to the side as he kissed down your newly exposed chest.

"Are you sure baby? I wouldn't want to do anything you're… uncomfortable with." You said as you squeezed Lou's ass, smirking at the shakey moan he let out when you pressed your finger lightly over where his asshole was.

"Please!" He whined out loudly, continuously moving his hips back on your fingers as you squeezed his ass again.

"Please what?"

"S-shit- Please mommy! I need you! Want your fingers fucking me so hard I forget my own name! P-please mommy!" You bit your lip to hold back the loud moan you almost let out and moved to take off his pants quickly. He whimpered under you as you palmed him through his boxers and kissed and sucked on his thighs, leaving even more marks. He let out a loud moan followed by a needy whimper when you pressed a kiss to his cock over his boxers. You quickly removed your own pants before taking off his boxers, letting his cock spring free and slap against his stomach. You left a trail of kisses up his thighs before licking a stripe slowly up the underside of his dick. His eyes rolled back as he grabbed the pillow under his head and moaned at the feeling of your tongue on him. While he was distracted with your mouth pressing kisses to and occasionally licking his thighs and cock, you grabbed lube from your bedside cabinet and spread some over your fingers.

"F-fuck!!!" He whimpered out loudly as you thrusted your fingers slowly into him. The room filled with his moans as they gradually got louder, until his back arched off the bed and he let out a higher pitched moan (it wasn't that high pitched since his voice is naturally so deep, but was higher than it had been the rest of the night).

"AH! R-Right there! F-fuck- Mommy!! F-feels so good!" You thrusted your fingers into him even faster, abusing that spot as much as you could. He was moaning so loud you were sure the whole street could hear him. You moved your other hand to start pumping his dick as you pressed your lips to his in a heated kiss to quiet him down a little bit to make sure you wouldn't get a noise complaint. He whined and whimpered against your lips as he felt your tongue move in his mouth, exploring it's new territory before you pulled away. You brushed your lips lightly over the dark marks you left of his neck, making him whimper louder as he squirmed beneath you.

"Do you like the marks mommy left on you baby?" You asked condescendingly as you sped up the pace of both of your hands. His eyes rolled back in his head as his mouth fell open, not making a sound. Your hand that was on his dick squeezed tightly, making his thighs shake as he let a loud moan fall from his lips. Drool was now beginning to seep out of the corner of his mouth as he squeezed his eyes shut in euphoria.

"Mommy asked you a question babyboy. Do you like being marked up like this?"

"F-fuck-YES! Ngh- wanna show e-everyone who I belong to!"

"Who owns you baby? I want to hear you say it." He whimpered before moaning out his answer as he threw his head back and gripped your shoulders.

"Y-YOU! FUCK- You do mommy!! S-shit!! I'm mommy's property! N-no one else can touch me like m-mommy can!" You felt his dick twitch in your grip and looked down to see how red it was.

"You can cum now baby."

"T-thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank y-you!!" Lou started mumbling incoherently beneath you as he moved to pull at his already messy hair with more drool falling down his chin. His hips began bucking against you wildly as his thighs shook. Loud moans and curses fell from his mouth before he came as he yelled out a broken and hoarse 'mommy'. You slowed the pace of both of your hands, letting him ride out his orgasm, before you took your hands off of him. You pressed loving kisses up his neck, over his jaw, and finally landing on his perfectly soft lips. He weakly wrapped his arms around your neck as you pulled the blanket that was beside you up and wiped the cum off his stomach and chest before lazily balling it up and throwing it in the laundry basket. You got up from the bed and moved to the door to get him some water from the kitchen.

"W-where are you going?" He weakly asked from behind you. You turned around and saw him looking up at you through his eyelashes with glossy eyes. You rushed over and pressed some comforting kisses to his lips.

"I'll be right back baby, I'm just gonna get you some water, alright." He nodded, pressing one last kiss to your lips before you walked out of the room. True to your word, you returned a few minutes later with a glass of water in your hands. You handed him the glass, watching him take a few gulps before setting it down on the bedside cabinet.

"Do you want your boxers?" He looked at you with sadness in his eyes, misunderstanding your words. You grabbed boths sides of his face and gave him a light peck on his nose.

"No no no no, I'm not asking you to leave, sweetheart. I was just thinking that it would be easier for you to sleep if you had some form of clothes on." He sighed in relief before nodding his head. You picked up his boxers and tossed them to him, letting him get comfortable before you wrapped your arms around him and let him cuddle into you. You heard his breathing slow, indicating that he was asleep, before you kissed his forehead one last time and fell asleep with a content smile on your face.

#dom!reader #vav scenarios #vav reactions #vav #vav smut #vav kpop #sub!idol #sub!vav #sub!lou #vav lou #vav imagines #vav drabble #dom reader #sub vav #sub idol #sub!kpop #sub kpop #sub lou

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banashee · 4 years ago

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i"I have way too many stories already planned" I said. “I can’t write in multiple fandoms at once, it will throw me off” I said. “OK so I’ll just get this out of my system real quick” I said. “Well shit, I’ve gotten more ideas now that I’ve started…” I said, determinded to face it - I have a problem. Just a small one… Who am I kidding. Send help.

Also, this is the first time I’ve written for this fandom. I’ve loved and enjoyed TMA for a while now, not just the pod but also fanworks. And now I’m joining in on the fun and you folks will have to deal with it :D ♥

This story got inspired by a conversation on Reddit with Swiftysmoon. Thank you very much for the inspo! This one is for you :)

edit. sorry about the missing ReadMore cut, Tumblr is programmed like a pile of garbage and removed it after I edited a typo...I’ve added it back in now.

please mind the tags and warnings

Into the Void

Truth be told, Jon never planned on this to happen. Of course not - it is ridiculous and more than a little embarrassing, but he can’t help himself.

See, the thing is, Jon is a restless, anxious person in general. He’ll hide away in his office for hours, typing away or recording statements in solitude, only interrupted when someone actually wants something from him. That, or when Martin brings him yet another cup of tea, checking if he’s still alive or starved to death on his desk.

No kidding - Martin had told him this, once, and although he’d been half-joking at the time, the underlying message had been very clear.

‘Please take care of yourself, you worry me.’ - it had been oddly sweet, and Jon still has no idea how to even react to this kindness.

But the thing is - Jon has nervous habits. While his mind is wandering and he is buried neck-deep in his work, he tends to fiddle. Mostly with pens, or anything else he can reach on his desk. That would be fine - no one notices it, unless they stand right next to him. But Jon had almost choked on the pen he’d been chewing on, lost in thoughts while reading his notes, omn more than one occasion. Mostly thanks to Tim bursting into the room like the whirlwind he is.

For one, Tim Stoker just doesn’t knock. Ever. He enters a room as loud and cheerful as he does anything else, and it can be a bit unnerving. Still, he somehow manages to be a professional and be really good at his job. That and the fact that there is ‘Chaos’ written all over him makes for an odd combination sometimes, but they’re all somewhat used to this.

So, when Tim suddenly sticks his head into the room with a cheerfully casual

“Hey, Boss!”

Jon startles and nearly stabs himself in the throat with a pen while he scrambles to make it look like he didn’t chew on it the entire time. He needs to preserve some sort of professionalism around here, even though he feels a little bit lost sometimes.

He glares halfheartedly, trying to keep whatever is left of his composure in place. Tim shoots him a bright smile with finger guns, then he rattles off the information that Jon had asked him for not long ago.

Thankful that he doesn’t have to explain himself, Jon launches onto it.

As time goes on, things around the institute get more and more weird. One thing adds to the other, and suddenly, they’re at war against worms all over the place. They spend their days at the institute armed with fire extinguishers and in Martin’s case, a corkscrew. Martin even lives there now, which adds a whole different level to it all.

Really, it is not surprising that they rarely ever get any outside visitors down in the archives. They have a bit of a reputation for being weird, and truth be told, Jon can’t find any fault in the people who assume that. If he wasn’t involved - if he didn’t know what lurks out there, in the shadows, he’d have thought the same.

Pushing his own dismissive, sceptic act is getting harder and harder these days, but it doesn’t stop Jon from trying.

Even after Jane Prentiss’ attack, Jon tries to keep up that act. It’s clearly faltering now, though, which may or may not be partially due to the fact that he confessed to Martin that yes, he does believe and he is terrified. It’s been an awkward conversation, to say the least, and not just because Jon pretty much asked if Martin was a ghost and despite Martin stabbing him with the corkscrew. To be fair, he’d apologized profusely for that, and while Jon is not happy about it, he is thankful for his attempt to get the damn worms out of him. Just thinking about it still makes him shudder, makes him lay awake at night.

On the plus side, their team in the archives has grown much closer to one another - it eases the anxiety and paranoia, just a bit.

Jon finds himself busy, not to say, utterly distracted. Time flies, and he takes even less care of himself than he did before. He practically lives off tea, and whatever food is offered where Martin, Tim and Sasha drag him along to.

Jon acts prickly and annoyed as always, but in reality, he appreciates their efforts. Lord knows, he isn’t sure he deserves this kindness, but he still makes an effort. These three people are all he’s got, after all. They’re the only group of allies who have any sort of idea what is really going on in the archives, and that alone is enough to have him lower his walls just a bit.

One day, Jon keeps blowing an annoying, grey-streaked strand of his otherwise dark hair out of his face. He didn’t have the time or energy to get a haircut lately - there are much more pressing matters to take care of. But his hair is currently at the awkward in-between length that he hated years ago, when he decided to grow it out. He’d kept it long, up until shortly before his promotion to head archivist. Only then he parted with the shoulder length ponytail in an attempt to be perceived as more professional.

It doesn’t feel right - never did. And as much as he hates the annoying strands falling in his face, it makes him feel like he is back on the way to himself. Or at least as much as he can these days.

Especially in the face of, well, everything else, it is a small comfort. Right now though, Jon is annoyed - he takes a pen from his desk, and sticks it behind his ear to hold back the constantly falling piece of hair - it works.

Jon only notices the pen again when he is about to go to bed that night - he huffs, places it onto the small desk in his bedroom and then crawls under the covers. Once he is in bed, Jon is waiting for the insomnia and the nightmares to keep him awake, despite his best attempts to fall asleep.

He is long used to both, but the last few months have been significantly more stressful.

The next day, Jon is exhausted. He barely makes it into the kitchen for some coffee, then he drives to the institute, the pen forgotten back home. Oh well - he’ll bring it back in another day - no big deal.

Except, it becomes a Thing, with a capital T.

Jon is chewing on and fumbling with his pens as usual, recording statement after statement and doesn’t exactly realize what he is doing. He hides away, until one of the others drags him away from the desk for inconvenient human needs like food and company, but really, he goes willingly now. All he needs is a small reminder.

The bit of human warmth and company means a lot to Jon, and he soaks it up as much as he allows himself to. Trusting people is a struggle for him. His relationship with each and every coworker is definitely a work in progress, but he is willing to try, anyway.

One night, Martin points to the side of Jon’s neck in quiet amusement.

“Oh, you’ve got ink on you - yes, right there.” he touches the spot behind his own ear. Jon blinks, and when he tries to wipe it away, his hand comes away with yet another goddamn pen.

It joins a small pile of accidentally stolen pens on Jon’s desk back home - he’s been meaning to bring them back ages ago, but he keeps forgetting. At this point, he refuses to drop them all off at once, because that would definitely catch someone’s attention - and attention is the last thing he wants right now. Add in the fact that this is, well, ridiculous and embarrassing… No. Just no.

Jon looks around the room, heat creeping up his face even though there is no one around to look at and judge him - then he opens an empty drawer in his desk. The pens disappear with one swift movement of his arm before Jon slams the drawer shut. There - done.

And this is how, what Jon secretly calls his “Desk Drawer of Shame”, comes into existence.

Occasionally, a small handful of pens will make its way back into the archives. But at this point, they’re way, way too many to bring back at once, at least not without pissing off Elias. That is, if he isn’t chuckling at the ridiculous and mysteriously high cost of office supplies in the last few months.

At the very least, Jon would be at the receiving end of some good natured ribbing from his coworkers in the foreseeable future.

Jon is reading the last few lines of a statement, when the door to his office opens up after a quick knock. He looks up with a frown, which is more habit than anything at this point, and quickly drops his feet back on the ground. At least, he isn’t chewing on a pen this time.

Standing in the doorway, shooting him a small smile, is Martin and he is waiting for Jon to finish recording the last few lines. Only when the familiar

“Statement ends.” marks the end of the recording session, he starts talking.

“Hi! Uh, did you have lunch yet?”

Jon didn’t, and Martin knows it, but he is trying to go the polite route before his motherhen-mode is activated and he physically drags the man away from the desk in an attempt to make him take a break.

So, Jon smiles back, which still feels a bit foreign in a work context, but he secretly enjoys the spark of happiness on Martin’s face when he does. Not like he focuses on that or anything…

“No, I- I didn’t. Did you have something in mind?” he asks as he gets up and pulls his jacket from the back of his chair. It’s a welcome distraction from his work.

Jon didn’t sleep, again, and he can tell that he is getting sloppy and way more irritable than usual. Chances are, getting a bite to eat and spending some time out of the institute with a friend will do him some good.

On the way out, Jon falls comfortably into step with Martin. Plenty of thoughts cross his mind, and he chooses to ignore all of them. In fact, he’d been so busy staring up at a cluster of freckles on Martin’s cheek that he doesn’t even notice what he tells him about the little café that he was planning to visit. Only when he stops talking, obviously waiting for an answer, Jon nods, hoping that Martin actually asked him a yes-or-no question.

For now, it seems to be enough, and they enjoy their lunch break. Jon is still lost in thoughts though.

That night, he is unable to sleep once again, as his mind keeps him wide awake and Jon is shaking apart under the blanket. There are two new pens on his desk, and it feels like they’re glaring at him. It’s ridiculous - they really are the least of his worries. Jon is just distracted, that’s all.

There is ink on his neck. Again. Jon swipes at it in mild annoyance, inwardly cursing himself for being so careless. His movement catches Tim’s attention, and then his eyes wander to the pen that is stuck halfway to Jon’s ponytail - it’s for convenience, really - but it’s clearly the cause for the ink scribbles on his skin.

Tim puts the pieces together and grins. He is way too easily amused about this, but to be fair, they get their laughs whenever they can these days. And this is still much better than the silent, angry version of Tim that tends to come out more and more and the last few months. At least, when he’s laughing, he isn’t that.

Small favors.

The more distracted Jon grows, and the longer his hair gets, the more pens he keeps losing - or more like, forgetting - in it.

He doesn’t realize that he is doing it, really, until someone - mostly Martin or Tim these days, because Sasha is (gone) (different ) absent - walks up and plucks one of the pens right out of his hair in order to use it. Jon should be annoyed, but he can’t bring himself to be. It’s oddly comforting that the two of them are still willing to seek him out. Because that’s what this is - there are plenty of pens around, of course.

There is no need to come into his office, to come close to him just to get office supplies. They’re here because they want to, and that honestly means the world to Jon.

As much as he’d tried to keep them at arm’s length, he’s failed miserably. Thankfully so - things would be much, much worse if they had to deal with everything on their own.

“Hang on - how many bloody pens are in there?” Martin asks one day, calling over from the other room. He looks up in utter confusion while already cracking up with laughter.

“Wait, are those-?”

Oh goddammit.

Apparently, that’s what happens when Jon answers absentmindedly when asked for the location of a pen in his apartment.

He needs to renovate his kitchen, because the landlord just won’t do it in any reasonable amount of time, so Jon is in old jeans and an even older T-shirt, packing dishes and kitchenware into boxes with Martin and Tim. The two of them had been kind enough to offer help, so that’s why they’re all piled in Jon’s small apartment on a Saturday morning.

Partway through, they realize that they should probably label the boxes, and soon after, Martin stands in the bedroom, opening not the stationary drawer, but The Secret Drawer of Shame With Accidentally Stolen Pens From The Institute.

“Oh, good lord.” With an audible ‘thump’, Jons forehead collides with the kitchen table. His glasses sit crooked now, and he doesn’t lift his head up while he tries to explain, and despite being flustered, he manages to keep that certain tone of voice that’s usually reserved for work hours.

“I, yes. I may have accidentally taken a pen or two with me and only realized it here. Coming back into work with all of them at once seemed… well. Not ideal at the time.”

“No wonder when you keep storing them in your hair.” Martin comes back, with a handful of pens and a bright smile.

While walking past, he pulls another pen out of Jon’s bun, just to prove his point. A long strand of hair slips forward and falls back into Jon’s face. Meanwhile, Tim has snuck off to peek into the other room out of pure curiosity, then he proceeds to laugh his arse off for the next few minutes.

“You know, we should make it a sport at this point. How much stationary supplies can we steal until Elias catches wind of it?” Tim offers, because of course he does.

It is ridiculous and childish, so naturally, it quickly becomes A Thing.

Anything to get a tiny bit of satisfaction is a valid option at this point, and besides, it’s not like Jon is trying to be sneaky or anything. It just happens , like so many things these days.

As it turns out, Elias doesn’t care. None of them is stupid enough to assume he doesn’t know - the bastard knows everything, that’s part of their problem. He just never calls any of them out on it - if it is because it’s too unimportant or if he is getting a chuckle out of it as well, they never find out.

At some point, late at night when all three of them had a few drinks, they’re brave enough to joke about what fear entity would be responsible for a never ending void filled with pens (“A.K.A you desk drawer of shame, Jon. Have another drink, you’re annoyingly sober for this conversation.”)

It’s a half-serious debate, and one which they continue every once in a while. Most notably so at the institute’s christmas party, huddled in a corner where they’re mostly being left alone. And if that is mostly due to Jon glaring holes through anyone daring to come close, just a hair away from actually hissing and snarling, well. He didn’t get his reputation of being rude and prickly for nothing.

All of this turns into fond memories, once everything has gone to hell.

Jon is freshly awake from six months of coma, and the world around him has changed. Martin is barely around and Tim is dead . So is Sasha, even though they never knew, for the longest time.

All of this hurts badly enough to stop him from breathing every once in a while, and after a series of even more tangled and unfortunate events, Jon finds himself huddled close to Martin on a train.

They’re on their way to Scotland and neither of them talks much, but they’re unwilling to let go of the other’s hand. The air is chilly, even inside the wagon, and Martin is still shivering under layers of jumpers and jackets.

The Lonely has settled deep into his bones, and sometimes, it’s like he is fading away again. Every time this happens, the steady warmth of Jon keeps pulling him back.

Jons hand is smaller and bonier in Martin’s own large, soft hand, but it’s grip is steady and warm. His thumb keeps stroking gently over the back of his hand while he is holding it, and it is the most loved Martin has felt in a long time.

Eventually, he manages to relax enough to doze off for a bit. While his head find’s it’s way down and onto Jon’s shoulder, he can feel the slight poke of a plastic pen that is sticking out of his hair.

Martin almost smiles, and squeezes back when Jon tightens the grip around his hand and settles against him.

They keep finding the damn things around the safehouse, because frankly, they’re everywhere. And that’s just whatever Jon had on his person out of sheer habit. Lord knows, his hair has grown way past his shoulders by now, and more often than not, he keeps it up and out of the way with whatever is around him at the time.

Mostly, it’s pens.

At first, they’re just there , and both Jon and Martin have about a million other things to think of and to deal with than a few too many office supplies laying around.

The exhaustion, both physically and emotionally, leaves them absolutely drained and dead to the world.

It is bad enough so that they crawl into bed almost as soon as they have arrived and inspected the small cabin. The question of whether or not they’re going to share the bed isn’t even raised - neither of them is willing to let go of the other. All the way from London to up here, they’d held hands to reassure themselves that they wouldn’t lose each other, and they’re not about to stop now.

It is a lot easier to remind each other that they’re not alone when all they need to do is focus on the breath and heartbeat of one another. Focusing on the heat radiating under the blankets, where they are embracing throughout the night to keep the nightmares and the ever growing anxiety at bay.

They have plenty of bad days when everything just creeps up at them and even talking is too much. Those days, they spend curled up in front of the fire or in bed, holding on tight for as long as they need to in order to feel more alive again.

After a while, they’re able to relax more. Martin is much warmer and solid now, doesn’t fade away into the fog without noticing. It’s happening less and less now - whether or not he will be able to shake off The Lonely entirely, neither of them knows, but he is happy about every step in the other direction.

Jon is just as happy to see him doing better, and he tells him as much over breakfast, smiling as he tangles their legs under the table.

There are two pens already stuck in his hair, holding it up in two buns. It’s probably from when he read a statement from the stack of files and tapes that Basira sent over the other day.

The statement has definitely taken the edge off of things for Jon. Now he can sit at the kitchen table with his boyfriend and enjoy a cup of tea instead of growing weaker and weaker with hunger for statements. As ironic as it is, it makes him feel more human, even though he is no longer fully human. He’s pretty sure of it.

“I love you.” Martin tells him, because it is true and he likes saying it as often as possible, now that he can. It sends a spark of warm happiness through his chest, and it is bright enough to chase away the cold fog that’s still lingering sometimes - just for a bit.

“I love you, too.”

He’ll never get tired of hearing this.

“I love you” they say, as they drink tea in the morning and eat freshly baked bread, still warm from the oven.

“I love you” they say, as they walk hand in hand through the cobblestone streets down in the village, on their way to buy groceries and look at the little local shops.

“I love you” they say, as they step around each other in the tiny kitchen while cooking dinner, distracting one another with kisses until one of them remembers the food or notices the charred smell of something burning. It’s only then that they break apart, cursing and laughing all at once.

“I love you” they say, as they spend nights wide awake, holding on tightly through their grief and fear. They say it out loud or whisper it into the darkness, comforting one another as best as they can.

“I love you”, they whisper through silence and tears, but they say it just as much through smiles and laughter.

“I love you” they say, after every single argument. Their love for each other is strong, so much so that they’re certain they will be able to figure out the rest. Whether that’s the end of the world as they know it or anything else doesn’t matter.

“I love you” Martin says, after he walks up behind Jon and plucks one of the pens out of his hair. There are at least two more, and besides, Martin woke up this morning with a few lines of poetry in the back of his mind. He wants to write them down before he forgets - maybe, just maybe, he can turn them into something beautiful.

“I love you.” Jon says, and he pulls Martin closer by the front of his pyjama shirt, turning around just enough to be able to press a quick kiss to his lips. The movement leaves them both in an awkward position, hanging over the back of the sofa with their glasses askew.

Martin has one of his arms wrapped around Jon, who is holding on tight, happily leaning into him with a quiet, happy satisfaction on his face. Clearly, he is enjoying this an awful lot.

No doubt, if it wasn’t for the hold onto the sofa Martin has with his other, he’d have toppled over and fallen right into the smaller man’s lap. And maybe that’s exactly what Jon is trying to do - who knows. He is way more affectionate than either of them would have thought possible, really.

They remain wrapped up in the tight hug, and neither of them wants to let go yet.

Notes:

Warnings: - Off-screen canon character death mentioned - insecurity - Loneliness - Trust issues - if you want me to add anything please let me know

#banashee writes #tma fanfic #the magnus archives #the magnus archives fanfic #JonMartin #mentioned character death

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chowtrolls · 4 years ago

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A question for my favorite Liam!! Could you tell me a bit about the trolls you've designed yourself? What's your process like?

It kinda depends on the design, I suppose! I’ve designed 27 of my 52 active trolls! That’s not counting trolls I don’t have on my select, like Chello, Veroix, Skulux, Orcais, Kithon, Jahspr, etc etc. Of those 27, 6 are what i’d consider my Original Trolls, ones who’ve been around for years. In those six you can look and see a LOT of myself! I’m gunna put this under a readmore but I’m gunna talk, like, specifically about a few trolls: Bruuno + Chowow, then Jawska + current Bruuno! Doing those ones specifically so I can also talk about my tattoo design process and how that’s changed!

I think Chowow technically predates Bruuno! At the time I was making them, I was really young, like 13? 14? idk. I made them both on a whim- Chowow was specifically made to be paired w/ his matesprit (he was originally gunna be an olive!) and Bruuno was made as the troll version of a beloved oc named Bruno. I put a LOT of my anger issues and trauma into Chowow, as a method of coping with them. I also VERY distinctly remember the day I looked at Corpse and said “I think Chow’s trans.”-> Saying that also helped me realize I’M trans lol. When Designing Chow, I specifically wanted dog ear shaped horns that were unique, in a way. And because Chow was based off my dog Gia...i just kinda looked at her liddol triangle ears and decided his get 2 be that way. His design has stayed...relatively the same, he got a hair cut but he’s always worn tank tops + shorts. Bruuno specifically was always the guy Who Had Tattoos. Bruuno’s muse was relatively dead for a very long time, he really only like Revived in 2018/2019? His original design was based off the OG OC- curly hair, thin as a rail, scattered tattoos that had little meaning. As Bruuno got quads, he got tattoos AROUND those quads, their symbols. I wasn’t very good at making my own tattoos so he had some that i based off musician’s (such as the squares that i think the drummer from TOP has?). As I aged, Bruuno’s tattoos changed ALL THE TIME there is NO rhyme or rhythm to them. I only looked at him and really, distinctly organized it all, when I saw another fuchsia with nice organized tatts, I think his name was Nihkos?? shrugs u_u Loved that mans. You can so very cleanly track my progress in tattoo design by looking at all of Bruuno’s sprites! Which leads me toooooo.............

..........Jawska! Jawska is, at his root, a Bruuno clone. I thought to myself “Hm. I want a Bruuno Clone.” And Thus Jawska Was Born. Typically when I come up with a character, I let them like. Mellow for a bit. In my brain. Rattle them around like a marble in a cup. And sometimes, I have a very VERY specific niche I want them to fill. For Jawksa, I wanted an asexual character whose asexuality was important to him, who was attractive but distinctly unfuckable. Jawska has some very important Design Notes - Curly hair, Distinct Nose, Slit eyes, 3 gills+fin prongs, broad shoulders+chest. I also seriously sat down and thought about his tattoos. His tattoos mean JACK shit. His chest piece + arms? NOTHING. there’s negative meaning. He got it because it looked sick. There’s SOME meaning, in some places- the blackout on his arm covers an old tattoo and the rings on his fingers are to hide the singular ring he once had. While working on his tattoo, i looked at other tattoos and specifically thought about the body parts that SUCK to get tattoos on. Collar bones, elbows, sternum. And I specifically aimed to leave those a little blank, using the negative space to give purpose but also keep in line w/ what people would normally not tattoo. His outfit is specifically something that doesn’t SCREAM fuchsia but doesn’t HIDE it. Like he’s got his fins and his eyes but he doesn’t wear any fuchsia- wears more red! That reflects how he sees himself: as someone on the bottom of the food chain. He isn’t special or important. He’s not royalty, he doesn’t deserve to wear his symbol or his color. He wears rose gold instead of gold because again, he’s not royalty he doesn’t “deserve” the gold, but also because the warmer rose gold fit better with his pallet. He wears baggy pants and a loose fitting shirt to hide his frame. As someone who was in an abusive relationship and someone asexual, he doesn’t want to be seen or perceived, he absolutely doesn’t want people to look at him and be attracted to him. Cargo pants hide the shape of his hips + legs, baggy shirt hides that broad chest. The tears + tank leave JUST enough open for people to not NOTICE what he’s doing! So it seems deliberate. There’s a few small, unnoticeable pieces of his design that work like cogs in a little machine. You wouldn’t look at him and see his low self esteem, or that he’s hiding. Which is what he wants!

And now back to Bruuno, my beloved idiot. I was going to do Jolene (i really only made jolene because an old friend mentioned there not being a lot of butch women, so i wanted to try my hand at it! another design thing I enjoy is finding niches or concepts I don’t see a lot of, and try to make my twist on them. jolene’s in the process of being a lil reworked design wise so i won’t talk abt her.) but I figured I could explain the bits and pieces of Bruuno now. Any design I make, at least now, tends to be very similar to Jawska- there’s small, unnoticeable bits and cogs, or themes that work together hand in hand. I could honestly sit here for hours explaining all of it. Bruuno is the only Monark who has both horns- even though he was designed first, I had all his “relatives” lose that C shaped horn. How they lost it is different and important to them but Bruuno having both horns is a way to show he’s Different from them. In ANY outfit he wears, its typically loose-fitting or a tank top, right? He has a dorsal fin that he doesn’t like having pressed down, but he also enjoys having his figure disformed. Wearing baggy, open shirts give him a more carefree appearance, which is why he does it often when in the limelight. His more casual outfits tend to be cargo shorts, tactical pants, sweats, and tank tops. He really wears long pants because they hide the robotic leg. Despite that, they are all loose fitting, comfortable, but still have an “edge” to them. He has JUST enough piercings in to have that lil edge but not be seen as a cocky highblood! Enough to impress but not be flashy. His robotic arm is VERY clearly a robotic arm, but it isn’t one that looks incredibly flashy. He’s a gigantic fuchsia rockstar with a million tattoos, of course he’s going to stand out, he has no need to be even flashier with a high tech super cool arm or a billion piercings. Another important aspect is his hair! There’s SO much story behind his hair i won’t even go into it. Bruuno has always had curly hair because around the time I made his design, I cut off my super long hair and suddenly I was left with a mess of curls. In my own experience, people likes touching my hair w/o asking, i’d get teased all the time, I’d get a fuck ton of unasked for comments ( “you’d look better with straight hair.” “boys would like you better with straight hair.” “curly hair looks messy.” gags. die. choke on a dick.) and I kinda used Bruuno to vent that out? I put my insecurity and frustration with my hair into Bruuno. I was too damn depressed to straighten my hair, so I decided Bruuno gets to go through that. He primarily wears his hair pulled back now because he’s also too depressed to straighten it. ok now im too tired to finish this. u_u

#ghost.ask #jawska #bruuno #chowow #this is unorganzied and messy #and makes no sense #and i got super tired at the end #</3 #i can like. more specifically tell u my process w/ specific characters #berrycherryart

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bisexual-horror-fan · 4 years ago

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I associate you with the colour red- bold and passionate; as well as spice and surprisingly pasta from that one part in Man Of My Dreams where Amber orders it despite Freddy’s criticism! I apologise that today wasn’t kind to you, I hope you feel better soon

Hey Bunny! I love that so many people, you included, assoiciate red with me! It is my favorite color! I am feeling much, much better right now! Thanks for the concern Bunny! And YES! I adore pasta and I love so much that part of TMOMD stuck out to you, for those who do not know to what we are talking about it is this part when Amber and Freddy are out to dinner-

I’ll slap it under a readmore for people who don’t care- but for those who do, let’s do this! A snippet from chapter 32 “Eating Out While Keeping Composure.” from The Man Of My Dreams

----

“You actually get pasta out at restaurants?”

I put my glass down and looked over to him.

Really?

Okay, he isn’t going to acknowledge what he is doing to me yet, that is fine, just play along.

“Sometimes, why?”

“Because it’s a rip off. Do you know how cheap it is to make good pasta? The mark up is huge.”

This is my life.

Currently asleep and dreaming, dressed up in a fancy restaurant, celebrating the belated birthday of my murderous dream demon fuck buddy. Discussing the high profit margin of pasta in said restaurant, all while I am soaking my panties and left wondering if and when he will turn on the remote controlled bullet vibe in my panties once more.

I let out a small laugh, from what he said and from the thought I had over how ludicrous this situation was, before saying,

“Why do you care so much Fred? It’s not like you’re paying for this dinner.”

“Yeah sure for tonight that is fine, but don’t tell me you are blowing YOUR money on this kind of thing out there.”

He gestured in the general direction of the window facing outside, I knew he meant the world outside the one he makes in dreams and I laughed.

“Oh you want to control what I do with my money too Fred?”

The laughing and joking continued on, and on. I was about to retort back at him for something he said when that damn vibe started back up again, making my sentence die on my lips as I struggled to hold back a moan. The waiter was back, fuck it was time to order, look normal, act normal, don’t let on what is happening right now, shit they were looking at me now.

“Well what did you decide on Amber?”

I took a deep breath and closing my menu I offered it up, looking up at our waiter as I said surprisingly steady.

“I’ll have the pasta.”

A nod, the menu’s collected and he was gone, I reached for my drink again when he asked.

“Really?”

“Really.”

---

God I still love that shit. So glad you love that as much as I do Bunny! That whole chaper is one of my faves!

#TMOMD #Cenobunny #BHF asks #ask games #such a good ask!#thank you so much!#very interesting

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jackedspicer · 5 years ago

Photo

my worst mistake ever was giving shnitzel a crush on rhubarb because once i started shipping them i was toast

under the readmore are silly tidbits and scenarios taken straight from some of my instagram stories. it’s a bit of fun

“canon” stuff

September 27:

“lordy there are some bits and pieces about rhu and shnitzel i havent talked about yet...

for one thing. i draw them together a disproportionate amount bc in my brain they dont have THAT much screentime. itd be a sorta thing where rhubarb is in whichever episode for reasons and if shnitzel happens to be in the same room then we see the gag where he gets all stiff and DUMB [id previously talked about how he had a crush on her so bad that he locks up and gets real stupid. think of mr gar from ok ko. it’s like That.]

except there’s one episode where it’s brought to the table called Shnitzel’s Crush or some corny shit and it’s 11 minutes of the other characters mercilessly embarrassing him

also he literally never says a word about it to her. the whole time. hes silent. he just likes to give her a hand and help her with errands here and there. like carrying the heavy stuff for her stand n whatnot. she thinks hes this big sweet fella so she gives him presents sometimes

and we know hes supposed to be this big stoic guy but we already know hes a SOFTIE so you can obviously see him being secretly sweet on this nice mom lady”

November 16

“i keep thinking about a Funny Moment where mung calls rhubarb over to the catering company because shes ‘just GOT to see something’

the camera is on shnitzel who is just mopping when the door swings open and the bell rings

rhubarb walks past and says hi to him real quick and a couple beats after shes gone he just

shatters like glass

and then it just cuts to whats happening”

“i feel like i need to go into detail about the glass shattering

he maintains a straight face the whole time.. completely unremarkable

and after a few moments, in a fraction of a second his whole personhood CRACKS across with a glass shattering sound effect.. pieces dont fall or anything, it would be as if a window cracked all over because of something loud

his face doesnt even change hes just there all fucked up until the next shot”

“more than anything i am about gags where he cant function around her... over time they just get more nonsensical and painful.. i already said the shattering one but i also have one where a boulder just drops from under his apron and cracks the ground like he shat himself

the comedy of his suffering is integral to the experience”

October 5

“shnitzel will do all kinds of stupid shit just because rhubarb asked him to. there is literally no limit he just bites his tongue and does it all cause he’s not disappointing her. it’s all harmless stuff but if anybody else asked he’d be like... No

like as for the beach episode thing i posted, she asks him to bring water buckets for their sand castles, and even though part of him just kind of wants to just do the sand castle, he buckles down and brings those damn buckets! and he cant work up the NERVE to sit next to her and build a sand castle anyway so he accepts it. also chowder is there and there are too many things that could go wrong. this is his life”

November 16

“i want you to know tht rhubarb drives shnitzel to work so he doesn’t have to take the bus [this becoming routine would actually be later on but the following bit is what’s in the visible window of canon]

so the first time she gives him a ride is when he agrees to help her carry some heavy stuff for her business

and he goes up to this kind of oldish snail car and shes like ‘ahh sorry about all the bluenanas.. theyre for a bluenana bread i havent baked yet you can just put those in the back seat’ because the car is literally full of bluenanas

and it’s this really awkward drive because there are bluenanas EVERYWHERE and the stack of things hes holding is blocking his vision and hes almost dead silent all while shes making momversation

i forgot to mention that was AFTER theyd stopped at her house to get the things

she baked him cinnamini rolls as a thank you but she didnt know he was allergic so he sneezes so hard her roof caves in so they have to call his cousin beef stroganoff [a chowder oc i made ironically] and his son banzo [short for garbanzo] over to fix it [this was a reference to a post on here about a landlord’s son bonzo coming over to fix op’s roof with a blowtorch].. he ends up taking the cinnamini rolls as payment

well okay it’s not the first sneeze that caves the roof in, first he sneezes and shes like ‘oh no! im so sorry let me get you a tissue!!!’ n when she comes back theres MORE snot so she leaves again and comes back with a BATH TOWEL and THEN he caves the roof in”

November 5

[i was talking about how rhubarb’s dream was to have her own bakery before i led up to this bit]

“and in the scenario that takes place 20 years in the future, theyre married as id said before, except mung daal is telling chowder ‘because you never grew up, shnitzel got fed up and left the catering company!’

and then we see him happily married and co-running a bakery with rhubarb. as if that’s a bad thing

‘you fucked up, chowder. you ruined a perfectly good shnitzel is what you did. look at him. he’s got dignity.”

November 9

[this next bit can be attached to the previous thing i said. it’s an ongoing Thing but it’s only seen when theyre like obviously married onscreen]

whenever rhubarb calls shnitzel by a little cutesy nickname he gets all bashful.. he cant take it bro

this burly 7 foot man gets called ‘pumpkin pie’ and absolutely melts”

---

*this was all the stuff i had so far on various stories that take place “onscreen” since i figured i’d get caught up and start posting all the junk i had lying around. i have other tidbits too that take place between the sorta goofy window of canon and the 20-year timeskip, which i might get into on another post. thanks for reading xoxo i love u

#in my head the most of her interactions are w other characters but their dynamic is the most entertaining to me so i zero in on it #u know how like u have tiers of whats canon/for real and what’s just you screwing around. yeah #draws #rhubarb #chowder oc #shnitzel #and yeah the drawings are old too they were from a hot minute ago #chowder

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darling-child-tisarwat · 5 years ago

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Morgan Reads Dune: Part 1

So as I previously stated I’m attempting to read Dune again. I read the first two chapters years ago and bounced off it cuz I hated it so much. I still hate it, and will likely continue to hate it, so yes this is a hate-read.

If you like Dune: cool, I can see how you might even though I don’t. You might not want to read this live-blog tho cuz I will drag the hell out of Herbert and dear special Paulie boy.

This isn’t meant to be taken as serious critique. I’m sure there are plenty of people who have given measured and nuanced critique and analysis of the text who know a lot more than me and are way better writers. Dune clearly is a pillar of Old School Sci-fi, etc etc. The purpose of this live-blog is to help me drag my way through the book to finish it so I can say I did it. That’s it. Also, mild entertainment value for Radchdome.

Dune apparently has no chapters which annoys me further so I’ll be going by page numbers. Basically I’ll do a new live-blog post at every big Manual of Muad’Dib quote, assuming they keep happening consistently in the book. I have the mass marker paperback ISBN 0-442-17271-7 if that helps but probably not.

I would do readmores, but I’m gonna have to do most of this on mobile so I apologize for that.

If you want to blacklist this, I’ll tag all posts with #MorganReadsDune.

Anyway, here we go:

Pages 1 through 13:

“A beginning is the time for taking the most delicate care that the balances are correct. Except at Waffle House.”

Again I’m like 4 paragraphs in and all my brain is doing is smashing two pans together and screaming about how Paul should have been trans and it would have been a much more complex and satisfying narrative. But you know, Herbert.

Actually losing my mind at the names Paul and Jessica. This is not a unique or new thought, but god. This happened last time but it’s so jarring and I hate it. It’s worse juxtaposed to the Secondary World words like Arrakis and Atreides. Paul. Paul! He sounds like he could be on the Jersey Shore. Jersey Shore: Arrakis Vacation. Anyway I’m still on page 1.

“The awakened boy could see a bulky female shape.” 1. The gendered not-asleep human could see with his sight orbs a human person of exact gender that he knew” 2. Writin’s bad

“Gom Jabbar.” My brain: jabberwocky. Never ending gob stopper. Name of a shitty throw away side character in Star Wars.

Actually hold on I love that I read good sci-fi before any of the “old guard” cuz I just keep reading “reverend mother” and being like “Harrowhark’s corpse mom” so that’s who this woman whose eyes have been described with 3 separate terms is now.

“In all the upset during this time of change, the old woman was the strangest thing he has seen.” That’s just how Cishet men are.

Also: Kwisatz Haderach sounds like something Geralt of Rivia could slay with one hand behind his back just saying.

“There has been so many things to learn.” Head full, many thoughts. “Arrakis-Dune-Desert Planet.” Just keep repeating those vocab words Paulie it’s gonna be on the big Spicy Test later.

“Their mortal enemies, the Harkonnens.” Two households, both alike in dignity. In fair Arrakis where we lay our worms. Also the Harkonnens are my fav because if Paul hates them, I don’t.

“Under a CHOAM Company” Chode company, got it.

“The geriatric spice, melange.” OLD SPICE

“Arrakis-Dune-Desert Planet” stop fucking say that I do NOT need to be reminded.

“Arrakeen” CONLANG MASTER HERBERT OVER HERE. He’s said the work Arrakis 5 times on this page.

“Paul awoke to feel himself in the warmth of his bed—thinking... thinking.” What a window into this characters thoughts...he’s definitely having them. Thoughts.

“The faufreluches” And now we are German.

“Arrakis—Dune—Desert Planet” EARTH—SHIT HOLE—BLUE PLANET

Okay I’m not even going to quote this one but the part where he does meditation and Herbert just uses a shit load of ellipses. Extreme Boomer text message energy. “I’m picking up spice at the store... do you need anything... will be home soon... need to talk to you... bye... :))”

“The animal destroys and does not produce” No?? Animals constantly replenish the land when left to in their native environments?? For a book about ecology, this man knows nothing about food webs and sustainability.

“He studied the tallness of her” Herbert just say she is tall. God.

“... He saw the hint of tension in her shoulders as she chose clothing for him...” WHY IS HIS MOTHER DRESSING HIM. HE’S 15.

I am going to imagine Paul has a pair of shoes with little bells on them, and every time he goes somewhere, the words “here comes a special boy here comes a special boy!!” mixes with the sound of the jingling.

Herbert is obsessed with em dashes and ellipses.

“If only she’d borne us a girl as she was ordered to do!” Now-we-don’t-have-time-to-unpack-all-that.jpg BUT ALSO: Paul-should-be-trans Example-1.

“One gestalten flicker” whole book gonna be like this, huh

“Hair: the Duke’s black-black” Paul Atreides has Vanta Black Hair. Harkonnen House Is Banned From Purchasing Vanta Black Pigment

“...With the browline of the maternal grandfather who cannot be named...” Vold... Voldemort??

THE CUBE. “She turned and Paul saw that one side was open—black and oddly frightening. No light penetrated that open blackness.” VANTA BLACK just like Paulie boy’s special hair.

This animal talk shit... humans are animals. The Beliefs and the Philosophies My Dude... simply geriatric.

Paul with his hand in the Cube: “just like Minecraft”

“We seldom administer this to men-children.” Paul-is-trans example 2.

Fist My Box Or Die, Man-Child.

Ok we gonna replace the word fear with the word cum just to get me through this:

“I must not cum. Cumming is the mind-killer. Cumming is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my cum. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the cum has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.”

“No woman child ever withstood that much [pain].” A-CisHetMan-Wrote-This.jpg Paul’s special boy bells be a jinglin’!!!

My concentrated rage for this book is what powers the box. Also we get into the first titillating bits of ableism text: If you’re human, you can withstand pain and even override it. Get fucked!

“He senses Truth! Could he be the one? Could he truly be the one?” Jingle jingle jingle

Mommy is allowed back to baby boy’s side now that he has passed the Hate and Pain test. As you know women must always be tested for Hate and Pain.

“Thou shalt not make a machine in the likeness of a man’s mind.” Those kids on their damn phones! Ok Boomer.

“You did that on remarkably few clues.” Jingle jingle

“Separating human stock from animal stock—for breeding purposes.” Eugenics! In! Space!

“We look down so many avenues of the past... but only feminine avenues.” “It is said a man will come one day and find in the gift of the drug his inward eye. He will look where we cannot—into both feminine and masculine pasts.” Paul-is-trans example-3 but also, Herbert what the absolute fuck are you talking about.

#MorganReadsDune

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dansedan · 4 years ago

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I threatened on the Disco Writer’s Nook server to share my notes from this latest fic, but since they’re wildly incomprehensible and kind of silly I thought maybe I’ll just... chuck ‘em on here instead, under a readmore where they can pass by easier so uhhh xX WeLcOmE To My TwIsTeD mInDXx !!!1!!

(warning for LONG LONG post- I write full sections and asides from the universe that aren’t even in the damn fic within the same notes document a lot... I’m also insufferably pretentious on notes I KNOW and I cull it on the final as much as I can, as well as mild possible spoilers for a fic I haven’t written in the same au-timeline-thing I suppose and NSFT stuff)

(also a lot of this gets discarded because it’s so stupid and I write it at terrible brain moments)

"Por la mañana me di a la estúpida tarea de esconder mis cigarros por los rincones de la casa. Los encuentro, claro, pero fumo poco, fumo menos, hago esfuerzos por mejorarme de una vez."

meditative cigarettes and quitting fic.

Harry smokes less than he drinks, because he smokes to keep sharp and he usually wants to be numb, down to zero, space-based. but after going tee-total and opening up on his quest to actual-human-persondom he finds himself chainsmoking constantly. A concern in his volition is raised, a thought project ruminated on, and strategems laid out.

Harry grasps at the first half at a low point in his attempts to get better without anyone knowing or helping. He wonders about Kim's life, Kim's control. The electrochemistry in him fantasizes about a free-wheeling party-boy sort of Kim, still cool, still quiet, but free and soft and in control of his lack of control- the aviator, the flying ace, at the mercy of the elements and gliding by by choice- lands on the question of the one-per day, the Kim he knows, who takes what he needs with trepidation and preparation.

The truth is that last one- Kim was a social smoker, an after-dinner-if-the-date-is-pleasant smoker, an after-sex smoker, a bumming-cigarettes-to-gague-his-interest smoker (it all started with a boyfriend) but police work and his neverending stint in Juvie drove him to once-per-day, a creature of obsession. He used to heavily resent it- until Harry came along and joined the ritual.

"bebiendo mate con el ademán gracioso de los novatos. Es lo que hago ahora cuando siento ganas de fumar, dijo, con una sonrisa."

Kim and Harry not so close together- the idea of Kim and Harry not knowing everything about each other, because that's just not how you survive, but somehow Kim aching to be up-to-date on Harry all the time.

Harry and his funny little excursions around town. Kim visits and finds cigarettes hidden around the house, smells them in fear of finding drugs, or Harry has to awkwardly shuffle around for one when Kim invites him to smoke. Harry tries to join a book club, starts cooking lofty meals for his yoga class, tries being vegan for a week, checks out a bunch of books on the history of the Coupris Corp (SUZERAINTY ERA MARK OF AUTHENTICITY BABEY) as a way to help him wean off substances but also off Kim. They want each other but they know they need to stand on their own </3

Harry starts going to this novelty/gourmet supermarket and buying one new thing every paycheck like furikake that says it has lead on it and mate and all that. He spends his ex-drinking, smoking money on it.

Harry makes Kim huevos rotos :'-)

You're barely holding it together- how the hell did you get to this newsstand? Is it a newsstand? This structure- round, metal, iron-wrought frame and squat stature- was once a newsstand. How do you know it isn't? What is it now? You feel yourself point someplace on a menu you can't see past the dew of heavy crying- the clerk does not react, he's seen you like this- slam your wallet on the counter. You receive a paper parcel slightly larger than your fist, long. It's warm through the paper, and you can feel the dryness of a light dusting of flour passing through it. Food.

Your legs and arms are moving on their own again, wallet shoved this way, steps stumbled past the other, clumsily bringing whatever it is to your mouth and feeling crumbs fall into your beard- like a shark. That's one of the first things you remember, the beautiful old ultraliberal woman, like a shark, on her boat. The joy of your first- no, second- idiom. The first was up on Marvel Hill where you can't live. Kim said that. Kim's gonna be there, when you do it like a shark and don't stop any of this on your way to work and you stop crying so nobody thinks you did what you're avoiding doing. Is there anyway you can forget the frittte? There's so many locations in your mind, what kind of man are you, remembering the placement of a store that's meant to vanish and appear out of convenience like it's a fucking pitstop (would a flask not be enough? A single habit to get rid of, easy- but you're never easy).

You feel dark-dark-light-darkness and then light again, and smoother flooring and your coat being too warm. You're at the precinct- fuck, you're at the precinct- and it's late, real late, but you are here and there's too many people to fuck up here and at least you aren't crying. Your red face and eyes blend perfectly into too many years and days of red and puffy eyes to call attention. Perfect, perfect- god bless the innocence (or is innocence god? You can't forget- Remember- something.)

"You're late, shitkid." At some point Jean appears beside you. He's walked the other way and stopped- he's grimacing- but more importantly you see his left arm raise and still and clench itself, like a restricted movement, natural instinct. "You smell like shit- is that fish?" You do not know if that is fish because your throat hurts so bad already that you cannot know if you've been swallowing bones for this past hour (minute? Minutes? The walk feels like forever and never enough. You're swearing like a pig now that you're standing, how adequate.)

You want to say it's agony, the end of days, the end of you- you want to say reprise, and sorry, and oh god I didn't want to see you please I don't deserve it Jean please leave and go away from me and also please oh god please hold me up I don't know what I'm doing but I'm trying to be better but I ate this thing that might as well be sawdust and I do not know what time it's been for several days.

Instead you say "it's my GOD-GIVEN RIGHT, VIC" and you move along like a fucking idiot.

"An image arises in your mind's eye-- a baby, dirty, hideous, its skin mottled and raw and red, peeling, stretching almost impossibly. The baby cries from pain- in it's brief stay on this earth it has already suffered more than some men do in their entire lives. He is built for it- thick skin, quite literally. He is being held by a slight, pale, ugly nurse- a nun in bloodied white rags with a terrible smell of herbs permanently attached to her. The scene is a caricature of mother and child- the hideous thing, held up to her chest, is drinking from an amber bottle, clouded over. In ten years, the contents of this bottle he will be legally too young for-- is this the reason you became the way you are? Are you just born-and-bred this way, surviving off of alcohol where most people had blood and human kindness?

-- It's not. The little pastiche you've thought up for yourself is half propaganda and half racist idiocy. Despite what the supposed "race-realists" may say, not everyone from the Insulindian is thrown on the bottle the moment they're weaned from the tit. In truth, you were barely even medicated, and those bitter, herbaceous spirits are not the cause of your current addiction. It's still on you harry, it's always still on you.

"Wake up- time to listen to the radio.

You love the radio. You really, really love the radio. You think the radio was the greatest purchase you have ever made- drunk you was horrible, and traumatizing, and entirely undebatably subhuman, but he did buy this radio, and by god fuck if that isn't his saving grace (a story comes to mind- a Dolorean allegory from your childhood- about a selfish rich woman and a lazy cheating bum both ferried up to heaven by a single onion that she'd given him during their lives as charity. You choose to ignore the part where they fight and fall back into hellfire). It's the thing that broke you off from your mazovian monk-like refusal to buy anything for yourself other than flour for a week after THE HANGED MAN, it's what got you into cycling and hanging out with the neon eyebleed catsuits crew, it's what reminded you that public libraries exist and nobody will ask you why you're in there reading about suzerainty-era motor carriage manufacturing and the homo-sexual underground. It's the greatest thing since communism, since disco, since-- since-- since cigarettes and kebabs and- and--

... And idolizing someone to the point of crucifixion. Which you aren't supposed to be doing.

Good thing the radio cranks up real loud!

"You've read everything in this section- theory, history, photography, even, notably, the single romance novel, comically bad, about a middle-aged Vespertine businessman travelling north to the harbour where he had experienced his first teenaged love-- and the young, strapping man he gets to know there. (There are boats involved- it's very biblical). All in all, you read it twice, meticulously rewrote its horrifyingly vague and unsafe sex scenes (in pen, inside. Not like the librarian's gonna check it) and masturbated at your efforts, winning you a very sore wrist and about 30 minutes of crying because you remembered being in a bookshop with Kim in Martinaise while you were remembering what books were, and then remembered Jean's apartment having a secret stack of equally terrible heterosexual novels bequeathed to him by an ex that you made fun of him for (rabidly, for years).

"Harry's apartment is no longer clean, but not as dirty as before, and its stalwart light-green walls seem, in the summer light, less queasy and foreboding than what they are now, almost dainty in the contrast of the sparse few frames and piles of knickknacks on the floor.

Believe it or not, this is good-- sometimes, life with Harry makes you feel like a zoologist, intricately analysing an animal's pile of leaves and refuse and knowing, despite all human standards, what these habits mean for the foreign species. And for Harry, mess like this is good. It means he's kept busy by any one of his million little projects, picked up and put down at a dizzying speed and constancy, each one increasingly out of left field in

Kim and harry talk about the radio, kim thinks about it "radio, what's new? Radio- some-one still loves you"

Harry talking abt agenda + library bc you can't smoke + planning for dinner with Kim :-)

Gotta go to the library so you don't chainsmoke

Gotta shower to go to the library

Don't wanna shower bc executive dysfunction

Grab a smoke before you shower

Oh wait you've been chain-smoking fuck (insert meditation on sharp vs smooth)

Hide all your cigarettes around the house feeling pathetic about it

You still don't feel like showering

But you just chainsmoked and you know you'll do it again because you JUST hid your smokes and the hiding spots are fresh in your mind

Birdbath (why are you so fucking dysfunctional that you can't shower like a normal adult)

Introspective rubber ducky selfhate momence

Rubber ducky encourages you through the power of nihilism and Kim

Thought project gain

Go to library and need comfort so you're going thru all your usual shelves (insert le funny homo shelf joke here)

What does he read about? Smoking? Idk

Kiiiiiim. Kimmy kim kim. Think about Kim

Maybe he reads recipe books to woo kim

INSERT EXISTENTIAL BROTH EPISODE HERE to talk about how you've never actually seen Kim cook (he told you it was good soup, clearly lying, you told him it was broth, and that you could teach him how to make soup out of it if he wanted...)

(broth episode was another note, inserted here:

ANOTHER harry coping fic. Miserable housebound weekend nights because he can't party but the house is horrible to be in and he keeps dunking his hands into more and more ice water and taking like half-body cold showers and he's like "maybe this is bad for my skin!!! I gotta get out holy shit" and he's like uhhhh fucking. Can't go to work. Let's go to the supermarket. And then he's almost there and he's like OH FUCK NO THERES ALCOHOL AT THE SUPERMARKET and he straight up bolts out of there and muscle memory gets him to a shady ass butcher shop in some random immigrant neighborhood and he buys so much fish because of a failed check and he goes home and basically he makes so much fish stock. He makes just so fucking much fish stock and Kim comes to pick him up the next day and panics because it genuinely smells like the dead in there but it's just harry making fucking. fish broth or something. Just harry coming up to the door in his work clothes with way too much cologne on and a thermos of fish soup like "uh... Do you want some Broth kim?" And Kim can't fucking cook but he takes some Broth anyway and he's trying to figure out why harry would do that but harry is being a little edgy about it and Kim is like oh god I need to help him a little and they have a sit down about it and he's like wanting to say "hey if you need somewhere to go I'm here for you" but it's hard and I don't even know if he ends up actually saying it. Okay bye)

Talking about the sexiness of supermarkets and how they make reptile brain go brrr

Think about alcohol vs smoking. Think about kimmy kim kim (insert european drinking joke here)

Have that get stuck in his head. Kim kimmy kim kimmy kimmy kim kim. Kimster. Kimbo. Kitsy. Kitty. Cutie. Oh god no fuck oh god I need to stop.

He goes home and still rlly wants to smonk

You hide the cigarettes around the house. It feels stupid, and you know you’ll be embarrassed having to pull the Jamrock Shuffle in your own apartment, that you’re a grown adult who could just *buy another box of cigarettes* whenever you wanted to, but you feel like it helps. Drag the killing thing away from the crappy little animal even for a couple moments more, let yourself get tired out like the old man you are below all the disco scaffolding. You can’t really bring yourself to shower, but you drag the radio into the bathroom with you and wash yourself in the sink. You try to be good about it- stay away from the mirror, really lather up and clear away the sweat that’s caked to you throughout the night and morning, feel the warm graze of the water on your skin. You brush shampoo through your hair and work it in in cycles, focus on the humming feeling of the bristles on your scalp, trying not to think of much of anything, just the smell of the cheap powdery soap and of what clothes you’ll wear today, try to settle into a better memory of this instead of picking at the shame you feel about how hard it is for you. ducking your head into the stream of the water in the sink and forgetting everything except the whishing, scratching sounds of cleaning.

Being clean feels good, and being dressed again feels maybe even better (knit sweaters are a revelation- who could’ve known polyester satin wasn’t made for seaside winters), so by the time you walk your way into the Jamrock public library the morning’s incidents are nigh-forgotten. The dry warmth of the old library is a reliable balm- the yellowed fluorescent lighting washing out the rows and rows of slate-grey plastic bookshelves lined up like soldiers over prerevolutionary tile, with its woven edges and dark, jeweled pinwheels of color, stretching out endlessly full of books, reels, and the rare intricate portrait hanging overhead. Before them, long wooden tables dotted with mismatched lamps, flickering in and out of use, occupied by antsy juveniles and sleeping hobos. It feels effortlessly like home, like a shared worldly past that welcomes everybody- and maybe that just means that it's generic and a little overdue for renovations, but you love it as it is.

Shuffling through the tall shelves of books, you weave through mindlessly to find your favorite sections- the history (both common and infra-cultural, with a surprisingly competent collection of industrial works and a predictably miserablly little shelf of homo-sexual underground interest), the art, and the meager offerings of political literature. You can hear your off-tune humming echo back to you somewhat feebly off the high, painted ceiling, done up in some lame facsimile of early Dolorian excess (therriers, noblewomen, forget-me-nots crowding the edges of each filligreed panel, dead-eyed faces in doleful expressions, pale and empty smiling). You've got all of daylight ahead of you, which is more than enough time to browse around as usual before you have to get yourself home and start cooking.

You turn the corner smoothly into the very back of the library, into a wider set of dusty and anachronistic wooden bookshelves-- history trends unpopular, considering the fact that all the books within are horrifyngly outdated due to a miserable municipal budget, maybe that's for the best. There are better places for students to get this information now, like the private library a couple blocks away at the Cycle Universitee, or from library dial-stations tuned in from the south, where the Bibliotheque Nacionelle Des Travailleures is run by Coalition-approved volunteers. The first thing to catch your eye is the pillar of works of infra-cultural expression and documentstion- essays and short stories from New authors, studies and zines on Disco, and of course, the particular political darling of the 20s, the homo-sexual underground.

You've read everything in this section- theory, history, photography- even, notably, the single commercial romance novel, comically bad, about a middle-aged Vespertine businessman travelling north to the harbour where he had experienced his first teenaged love-- and the young, strapping man he gets to know there. (There are boats involved- it's very biblical). All in all, you read it twice, meticulously rewrote its horrifyingly vague and unsafe sex scenes (in pen, inside. Not like the librarian's gonna check it) and masturbated at your efforts, winning you a very sore wrist and about 30 minutes of crying because you remembered being in a bookshop with Kim in Martinaise while you were remembering what the world was, and then remembered Jean's apartment having a secret stack of equally terrible heterosexual novels bequeathed to him by an ex that you made fun of him for (rabidly, for years). You shudder, now, at the sight of its cracked spine looking you from the middle sill. Its gaze feels hefty and judgemental, and you do not like it.

There are

KIM CHAPTAAAA

"you'd like him to take care of himself. You'd like to be there to do it for him when he can't"

"He opens the door, and immediately there are a million little things that test you (hell, with that thick-knit sweater he's wearing, any weakness in you would have him writhing on the floor in seconds). The half-up style of his now-so soft looking auburn hair, split across to reveal the pale white of his nape between the raised collar of his sweater, the kind wrinkling of his open smile upon seeing you walk in, the light, jazzy music of the radio backing his belly-deep laugh and the heady smell of incense in the room are all exhilaratingly Harry to you.

What to do with jean:Standalone fic for him?

Starts when he sees Harry with the eyebleed crew and he's the one who goes up to him like "WHAT IN THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING SHIT KID" and harry is like. Oh god oh fuck jean uh let's be... Cordial! Optimistic! (What jean sees is one of his signature pauses but like. Yeah it's the skills talking) and he's just like "oh it helps me stay sober and make friends, I found out about it on the radio🙂" and Jean is like holy fucking shit this is absolutely insane.

1) bc Harry used to be so repressed he was basically homophobic with his macho act

2)bc Jean originally didn't believe the amnesia thing but then when Harry genuinely did shit like this and never told him (which, if it was a cruel joke he would've tried to make it very public and obvious and drag jean into it to embarrass him)

3) because JEAN was his friend and why the fuck does he just. Run off with random people with a radio ad instead

4) because he's doing so well. He's like, fully at the sort of "this-side-of-pudgy" bear level that's hot enough to get him positive attention over the damage of the alcohol and he's wearing the sort of clothes that show it and he's got all these crew buddies where Jean is stuck with his hellish depression workouts where he sometimes works until he pukes and then feels like shit about self-harming like that. (what he doesn't know is that Harry is basically doing that same exact shit just he's using his swag alcoholic skills to lieeeeee about it. rip)

Maybe harry apologizes in their conversation about the romance novels. Like it blurts out.

eventually add in the previous consideration fic you were thinking of &quot

starting with bitter porno kimbo/viccy catfight bullshit

"no that's pathetic and he'd never go there." dynamic where kim cares quietly and jean is bitchy about Harry

then "no, he's dealt with harry so much already, I can't imagine." so it's all concern for him

and then that backslides into "how could I comfort him? how could he understand my need for comfort? "

we stan a mildly nonaccepted himself Jean so he's like "WAIT UH GAY THOUGHTS ABOUT THIS GUY TOO? FUCK FUCK FUCK"

gotta make it panic horny. it's a Dan Gat fic. how would kim look.... yknow......

since the only other guy who's been like that with him has been harry -> third wheel dynamic going to ->

horny ot3 dynamic. old men doting on him because it's his fantasy and he gets to be the pampered one goddamnit

end somehow

THIS IS THE EXACT DYNAMIC WE'RE GOING FOR Jean liked Harry premart and Harry was unbearably machismo repressed homophobic bullshitero man (I need to decide if he was stupid enough to be like AS LONG AS IM ON TOP IT ISNT GAYYYY or smth sex/intimacy related like that maybe he just kinda. ""comically"" hit on Jean or said suggestive shit to him but never fully acted on it) and then he comes back from Martinaise all loyal puppy dog or whatever for Kim and Jean is like "??? OKAY SO I GO THROUGH ALL THIS BULLSHIT AND HE TALKS SO BIG ABOUT LOVING MUSCLE DUDES AND NOW HES GONNA FUCK THIS GRANDPA?" but then he's like self-aware enough to know that's stupid.(Jean's problem is that he looks for wounds on Kim and not Harry, so he's all like "damn this bitch stole my mans when he's actually good...." meanwhile Harry is like Very Obviously Self Harming All The Time and not even really with Kim so often rip)

Harry wants to reach out and ask him about his thing with Kim because he has memories of Jean either being gay or being less homophobic or just having Gay Energy that he was an asshole about or whatever plus it just feels natural to work through shit with Jean but he stops himself because he's like "well DRINKING also felt natural that doesn't mean we should do it..."

maybe they get into it because Jean makes an offhand comment about "stop ogling kim" and harry is like (computer warmup noises) and jean just kinda forces him to spit it out RE: meme description

Harry's whole deal with avoiding Jean is "some things are unforgivable and I'm fairly sure I've done things bordering on that to you for so, so long, and now I don't even know what they were or who I was when I did them, to me that person is dead, and I know then that I can't apologize to you thoroughly, genuinely, and I don't want to insult you by presuming that I ever could, at this point. I don't want to insult you by assuming I can just go back to what we were before, to each other, without an apology or an actual understanding of what went wrong. I can't speak for certain about his mind-my mind- but at least in some part that guy killed himself because of what he did to you, and to everyone around him, sure, but mostly to you. And now I'm here, and it feels horrible to try and go against that and push myself into your life. It feels horrible to see I've done something to you worth killing myself over and then still insist on coming back to bother you beyond the grave"

And Jean's response is "you thought everything was bad enough to kill yourself over! And you're still alive, you're still him, and fuck, yes it'll take a long ass fucking time for me to ever really forgive you, but you were my best friend and you're still fucking alive- I see you every single day, Harry, do you know what that's like? To see your best fucking friend every single day and watch him flinch and try to act like he doesn't exist every single time he sees you? Fuck you and fuck what you wanted before, *I* never wanted you dead, and your little stunt here with pretending you're finally fine and then keeping everyone at an arm's distance is just another, slower grave you're digging" etc etc "if this is the upswing at last, I’d better be there for it.**”

Jean is a frat boy that you do not expect to be a frat boy. He unironically gets along with mack and chester. He's only just started to grow out of it through dealing with Harry's horrible downfall

sequel to geste drole des debutantes but it's just a 3 chapter PWP masturbation fic..... of Kim and Harry after the dinner and then SHOOKETH SURPRISE IT'S JEANGST YEARNING TIME!

Kim trans.... Good for him...

Stroker shit

He wants to fuck Harry basically

...slow tease? Or fast and desperate?

Dry kissing

Hair pulling...

Youre hard, and you're wet, and you can't help but think of that smile on his face as you left and you want him to taste it, to get on his knees for what he's done to you and swallow it all down, feels the soft brush of his beard on your thighs.

Harry also trans... Good for them good for them...

Handkink shit

Wants kim to absolutely wreck his shit

... He's new at this

Slow....

Jean

Jeangst

Want to wreck harry's shit... Mouthfuck stuff maybe

Power bottoming?? Idk

Whoops my hardcore dom revenge fantasy has slipped into a getting bossed around by the guy I thought I disliked for taking away my partner UHH.... LETS NOT UNPACK THAT....

Some idiot makes like a homophobic stupid "ah the fucking lieutants off scissoring or something" comment and then jean is like "oh god what if that but sexual instead"

Gym shower...

Jean has a big dick too bad bitch

When harry du bois ruined his life, thinks satelitte-officer Jean Vicquemare- he might at least have had the decency not to also curse his dick. This shit was weekly and only getting worse, now that the shitkid didn't constantly smell like despair and carrion had scored a threesome with a bartender's manual.

#my writing #in a way!#my fic #long post

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theropoda · 4 years ago

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3, 4, 6-8, 11, 13-17, 19-22, 26-30 uwu

WOO LAD THAT’S A LOT THANK U!!! this got long and i wrote an essay or two LOL so im putting it under a readmore!

3: Best game you’ve ever played? WEEEELLLL.......let me preface this with two things: one, i am a FAKE GAMER as in my laptop is not at all made for gaming, it’s piss poor, so a big chunk of games i’m interested in is because i watched a playthrough of them lol. i have a 3ds but only 3 games on it (animal crossing new leaf, tomodachi life, nintedogs & cats). second, i’m very bad at choosing favorites of things.....BUUUUT .....i choooooose, in no particular order, OFF, pigeonetics, elder scrolls oblivion, pathologic classic HD!! i’m more than likely forgetting a few though, so sorry about that

4: Worst game you’ve ever played? as i said above, cannot choose favorites, neither can i choose whatever the opposite of favorites is but...uhh, does lif even count as a game? like lif, the stupid little furry flash game i remember playing on some shady website. it was surprisingly very active with a BUNCH of people there but i kept dying like every 5 seconds....AWFUL

6: A game that’s changed you the most? WELL define Changed.....ummm aha first thing that comes to mind is OFF. it’s one of those things where you never knew you wanted something so fucking bad until you saw it--and it’s like that for me. i NEVER knew i loved that odd, surreal, colorful, “looks playful and simple in some parts but incredibly violent and unnerving in other parts” aesthetic til i played it. like aesthetically i love that game to BITS and something about it just stuck with me til the end of time.

later in life (meaning, past year or so) it changed me because it taught me a lesson about storytelling and creative endeavors. a very useful lesson. which is: things don’t really need to have a meaning. stories, art, music, writing, whatnot, while it CAN be deep and meaningful, while you CAN use it as a way to communicate with the world about all kinds of heartfelt things, it can also be...nothing, really.

once i, as usual, got ridiculously overwhelmingly sad about small things. specifically seeing other people around me come up with all kinds of deep and meaningful characters and stories, sometimes putting them into webcomics or writings of theirs, and they were all so well-thought out and detailed and what i envied most was people put a lot of themselves and their experiences into them, venting and coping through them, whilst also making these larger-than-life grandiose complex stories and worlds and so on and so forth.

it made me look at my own ideas and get mad/frustrated at how shallow they were. but then i remembered OFF and i felt better because Fun Fact, mortis ghost has a now-abandoned dA account and if you go through the comment section on his profile, he answers a lot of fan questions and he mentions several times that the game didn’t really have a “meaning”, it didn’t really have a “deeper story” or moral or anything, really. i’m paraphrasing this but i vividly remember him saying “i wanted to make a game, so i did”.

that made me feel a lot better because it made me realise that sometimes art--especially stories, in my case-- doesn’t NEED to be DEEP or have MEANING...sometimes it can just BE!!!! sometimes it really can just be all about AESTHETICS like who GIVES a shit if there’s a hidden meaning if you take the first letter of all of your characters’ names and put them backwards, sometimes all that matters is if they just VIBE with you y’know....

yume nikki is similar in this regard bc that game doesn’t have any story other than “collect egg” and yet it’s so impactful. that game doesn’t have a story or meaning it just IS........ :) GOD THATS SO LONG IM SORRY ABOUT THAT but yeah. funny violent ghostbusting baseball man is a game that changed me :)

7: A game you’ll never forget? OFF AGAIN LOL,,, it’s just so memorable because of how unique it is. visuals, soundtrack, story, everything is so memorable. unforgettable. oh god you can tell how much i love this damn game can’t you

8: Best soundtrack? yakuza 0, OFF, there is a picture (another game by mortis ghost, again composed by alias conrad coldwood who also composed OFF), pigeonetics (the entire soundtrack of which is here), jojo’s bizarre adventure all star battle and eyes of heaven, silent hill 2 & 3, undertale....probably forgetting more but all of these...earcandy

11: Hardest game you’ve played? i am a shitty gamer so this is Most games i’ve played lol!! but uhh..well you see. hardest game i remember playing as of recent is pathologic classic hd in which it’s...not only hard to understand what any character is saying at any given time lol but also, i don’t think it’s HARD it’s just...you need to focus. you REALLY need to fucking focus and pay attention in this game. so i wouldn’t say its HARD, but i’m only putting this here bc it’s in recent memory.

i say recent memory because the true answer is susceptible to “yeah, but now you’re older, it must not be so hard.” as in if i played it now i think i’d have a way easier time. but when i was around....10-12 years old i had several ps3 video game adaptations of animated movies and i had SUCH a fucking hard time with them. g-force, bolt and up in particular were fucking HARD. like genuinely, the hardest time i had EVER had in my live playing video games is tied to these three fucking games. g-force and bolt ESPECIALLY. one particular level in bolt took both me AND my sister around a year to fucking finish.

again, i was baby, so i bet i’d have a much easier time with them now that i’m 17. but for now, in my experience, bolt and g-force for the ps3 were harder than pathologic classic. i think icepick lodge should take a few notes for them for pathologic 2.

13: A game you were the most excited for when it wasn’t released yet? STREETS OF KAMUROCHO...i spent the entire day of its release anticipating its launch lol

14: A game you think would be cool if it had voice acting? hmm..most games i like and know about do have voice acting so i dunno....i guess it would’ve been kind of cool if morrowind had like, full proper voice acting. but i can understand why it only voice acted things like greetings and battle insults because GOD that game is SO...complicated...and as a result, the conversations are so lengthy and text-full. playing morrowind is really like a goddamn book! if it was voice acted i’m sure all that information would have to be shortened bc i know no one is going to fucking voice act two whole paragraphs

15: Which two games do you think would make an awesome crossover? pigeonetics and yakuza in which instead of being about the criminal underworld it’s about shady and unethical pigeon clubs, breeding, racing, etc etc...a lot of illegal shit does happen in the world of pigeons especially when it comes to racing; prized racers have been kidnapped and held for ransom before. and then there’s Avian Cucking: The Sport, where people breed the sexiest pigeons (horseman thief pouters), release them outside to seduce other people’s sexy pigeons, and bring them back and keep ‘em, drama ensues. will kiryu ever escape his past as a professional pigeon-napper, and find solace in his new life as a pigeon hobbyist? find out now by playing YACOOZA......

JOKES ASIDES i don’t know i really don’t....umm, pigeonetics and animal crossing somehow?? :O... like, instead of managing your own town it’s managing your own loft!...orrrr, the jojo games (all star battle & eyes of heaven) with yakuza, because i think they’re somewhat similar because they’re both haha Wacky Silly AND serious over the top fighty-fighting.....or maybe a crossover with OFF and discover my body, which, despite being an incredibly short and obscure indie game i still love to bits for what it’s worth. WAIT ANIMAL CROSSING AND MINECRAFT THAT WOULD FUCK SO HARD OH MY GOD

16: Character you’ve hated most? From what game? i can’t think of any character i like, HATE...with a burning passion.. there are a few i dislike or have a complicated relationship with though.. i’m not interested in the series anymore but ouma from drv3...i’ll admit that he is a bit fun sometimes, especially in the very early beginning he’s a likeable brat but as the game progresses he becomes more irritating than anything and i have an issue with him in regards to writing, despite the fact that i have never been awake in any english class ever lol. it’s too long to put in this already long post but i’ll keep it at that. if you like him, well, good for you for finding joy in something i couldn’t! but he just doesn’t do it for me.

AH I JUST REMEMBERED....MINE......FROM YAKUZA 3....maybe i’d change my mind if i watched a playthrough of y3 again, because i think you always absorb something better on your second watch (tho i honestly Dont have the energy to do that all over again, the yakuza games are too fucking long), but i really hate his writing. spoilers for y3 but, i think mine’s writing, alongside other things in the game, were super messy...and a big part of why i hate him is that not only is he one of those “could’ve had great potential but fell flat” sorta guys but also his love for daigo is seen as some fans as good gay rep and i?????/.............um....WELL let’s just say that, i think people nowadays will see any gay character ever in any circumstance and say it’s good gay rep just based off the fact that A Gay Character exists....he was Not, good gay rep imo....he was not, let alone, Good. .........

17: What game do you never tell people you play? can’t think of any games i wouldn’t tell people i play.. idk exactly what this question’s asking. does it mean what game you don’t tell ppl you play bc you’re embarrassed about it...? i’m not very embarrassed by any of them. the only thing that comes close, i guess, is uhh lioden and wolvden. i’ve only interacted with those communities a LITTLE TINY WEE BIT, yet of what i’ve seen it’s a goddamn dumpster fire and i’d never want to be associated with them lol

19: Which game do you think deserves a revival? i’m well aware it’ll never happen and that it’s more a wet dream than anything but...PT/silent hills..... on a more realistic/”could happen” note, PIGEONETICS!!!! SERIOUSLY, it’s an amazing game about amazing animals and it teaches genetics in a very simplified and efficient way!! genetics is SO hard for me to understand, i fucking hated studying it but this game really helped me understand how it works AND its super engaging and interesting!! HOWEVER, of all the pigeon genes we know of, only a handful were seen in pigeonetics and i’d LOVE a sequel that employs new game mechanics AND new genes!! i wanna learn about bronze and stencil genes! i wanna learn about phenotypes like grizzled and pied!!! genes like sooty and dirty!!! @ UNIVERSITY OF UTAH GENETICS DEPARTMENT PLEASE IM BEGIGNG YOU

20: What was the first video game you ever played? earliest memories of Gaming involves me at my aunt’s house playing two games: super mario brothers and some kind of trapeze game. i don’t remember anything else though

21: How old were you when you first played a video game? i can’t remember but i must’ve been REAL tiny.... 6-9 years, maybe??

22: If you could immerse yourself in any game for one day, which game would it be? What would you do? immerse myself meaning go into their world...? huh....on one hand i’d like to go in the world of yakuza 0 to play in the arcades and do whore related activities but i’d also love to go into the world of animal crossing (and i’m pretty sure i’d be some sort of generic dromaeosaurid in that game!!) and shop, chat with villagers, do chores for them, go fishing, bug hunting, eat delicious fucking food like the apples mangos peaches cherries etc etc.....OH AND FOSSIL HUNTING THAT’S THE BEST PART!! though it would definetly be a little weird, to be a little dinosaur and finding a fossil of a...little dinosaur....i guess the non-sentient species went extinct and the dinosaur i am is some kind of, descendant of a sapient non-avian dinosaur that survived the k-pg extinction event...oh but who cares all i want is a cool little ambulocetus fossil or something. and some cherry pie :)

26: Handheld or console? my old ps3 just went kaput one day years ago so i haven’t used it in years so i can’t compare well... but i’d say handheld, because it lets me like DO stuff more...would love to get a console one day, a ps4 maybe but i’m kinda worried it’ll make me stay in one room all day wasting away my time when there’s other stuff i can do, y’know? but something handheld like my 3ds, on the other hand...i can do stuff with it. i can take it to my room and play it between breaks i take as i clean the room and fold my clothes, i can watch something on the tv and play the game during ad breaks, i can take it outside too if it has charge to last me a while! so....handheld i guess

27: Has there ever been a moment that has made you cry? yakuza 0 and undertale in particular have ALMOST made me fucking bawl with many of its moments....yakuza 0 especially, after that Fucking Ending i had trouble sleeping because oh my fucking god. video game people SAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

28: Which character’s clothes do you wish you owned the most?

29: Which is more important, gameplay or story? HMMM....well, if i were to play a game with a shitty story but really good and fun gameplay i’d probably continue playing it for the gameplay. but if i played a game with shitty gameplay but an interesting story, there is a chance i’d play it more for the sake of the story but also i might just quite and see the rest of the story on youtube or something. i’m more likely to go through a boring story for fun gameplay than go through boring gameplay for an interesting story, so i guess gameplay is more important to me....that is, WHEN i actually own and play a game as opposed to when i just watch someone play a game because i don’t own the game but wanna know abt the story lol

30: A game that hasn’t been localized in your country that you think should be localized? i have no idea how video game localization really works....but i assume localizing a game in india would mean something like, removing content according to cultural norm and also somehow translating it into the 22 official languages..? or just two or three language if it’s tied to a particular state, which seems way more doable. i honestly have no idea? i’ve never interacted w the indian gaming community that much to be honest, all i know of it is of the video games i’ve seen sold in some game stores and a few whispers about like solid snake or whoever from my school’s cafeteria....the most popular games here, to my knowledge, are those very streamable games like fortnite and PUBG and your call of duties and whatnot. those generic shooters. and even then, that honestly isn’t the “indian” gaming community bc this country is so FUCKHUGE, it’s just tamil nadu. one state.

soooo, according to what little i know of gaming interests in where i live, i don’t think any of the games i like should be localized here bc i don’t really think there’s an audience for it as far as i can tell :( maybe animal crossing? it’s a fun little games for all ages and i think it has a chance of becoming popular here, so maybe that is worth a shot! but i can’t think of any other game that i like that really has an audience here (other than Me lol)

#asks #stommevrouw #THANK U EVIE THIS WAS SO FUNNNNNNN #WOOF haha this made me tired #im probably hitting the bed now! thank u!!

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