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impala-dreamer · 5 years ago

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When You Break The Rules

SPN FanFic

~A slip of the tongue at a panel lands you in some hot water with Mr. Collins backstage.~

Misha x Reader, Brianna, Kim, Ruth, Rich, OFC

2,079 Words

Warnings: NSFW! Dom!Misha, Sub!Reader. Spanking. Smut. Awesome.

A/N: This was a commission piece requested by a top-tier patreon. I really hope you all enjoy!

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Another weekend, another convention, another panel with the girls.

You sat on stage, ankles crossed like a lady, knees peeking out from beneath the hem of your sundress. It was hot, too hot for jeans, especially under those stage lights, and besides, your lover liked to see your calves.

No one else seemed to notice or care about your unusually fancy attire, too focused on Brianna and Kim having a fiery debate over which Winchester would have been with which sheriff. That was just fine with you, it was entertaining to watch them bicker even though you knew they’d give the standard answer: Jody and Sam, Donna and Dean.

To your left, Ruthie cleared her throat into the microphone and raised a heavily painted brow. “Excuse me! Why does no one ever ask who Rowena should be with?”

Her angry pout made the audience laugh and Kim jumped all over it.

“Well, who would Rowena be with?” she laughed as she turned towards Ruthie.

Bright red lips smiled coyly. “Samuel, obviously.”

Kim’s face dropped with annoyance and she crossed her arms, popping a denim-clad hip. “Oh, now we have to fight.”

Instantly, Brianna was at Kim’s side, comically holding her back as Kim lunged forward, growling at Ruthie. The tiny redhead looked to you for help but you shrugged and threw your hands up, laughing into the mic.

“Hell no, I’m not getting involved here. No way!”

That was the exact wrong move, for the dueling trio turned to you, ready to attack. Thankfully, Brianna was able to wrangle Kim in, and the fiasco was averted.

“Moving on…” Brianna sang, flamboyantly waving at the next fan in line waiting to speak. “Hey. How are ya, who are ya, where ya from?”

The tiny purple-haired teen looked up at Bri in awe, nearly drooling at the sight of her bare midriff. “I-I’m Lisa-”

“Hi, Lisa! Nice to meet you!” Brianna smiled brightly and the girl nearly fainted. “You got a question for me?”

Lisa nodded shyly and swallowed down a wave of fear. “It’s for everyone. If you could have kissed anyone on the show, who would you want to kiss?”

Kim hummed into her mic. “Oh…”

Ruthie grinned devilishly and tapped her cheek, deep in thought.

You shivered and tried to hide your nerves. This was the exact sort of question you hated answering. There was never a right answer.

Brianna and Kim looked at each other and smirked, answering in unison. “Jensen.”

The crowd cheered, seeming to agree.

Ruthie knocked her head side to side, unable to decide. “Well, you know, I did rather enjoy smooching Richard…”

“Did someone say my name?”

The Trickster himself appeared from behind the curtain, summoned by Ruthie’s answer. You breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that time was up and you wouldn’t have to answer.

You were wrong once again.

“Y/N, what’s your answer?” Richard asked, rounding the line of chairs to stand next to Ruthie and drape an arm around his friend. “You’re awful quiet.”

Embarrassment churned in your gut. “Oh, I don’t know guys, I can’t choose. Everyone’s so beautiful.”

Before anyone could move on and end the panel, a fan in the front row shouted up to the stage. “You got to kiss Sam!”

Which, was true. The character you played on Supernatural had, in fact, made out a bit with Sam Winchester in the episode right before Dean accidentally killed you. Still, it wasn’t really an answer you could give.

“That’s true…” you agreed, praying Richard and the band would cut you off and the universe would have some mercy.

“And?” Kim pressed.

“And… Sam’s a… pretty good kisser,” you said, much to everyone’s joy.

Kim couldn’t let it rest and leaned in. “So, Jared is too?”

Heat filled your face and you bit your lip, sure that you were going to get in trouble either way.

“Yeah,” you nodded, smirking at the crowd. “He sure is.”

To say that the auditorium went crazy was an understatement, but all you could hear was your heart pounding; all you could see was one face out in the back of the theater, one face blazing with anger.

Misha grabbed your arm as you left the stage, practically dragging you off of your feet before you knew what was happening. You knew better than to question it, so you let him pull you down the service hallway and into a dark conference room.

Your pulse was racing when he let go of you, shoving you into the room before slamming the door shut behind him.

He turned, face contorted in special anger; blue eyes narrow, right brow raised.

“What did you think you were doing up there?” he asked, voice like gravel as he flipped on the light.

Swallowing hard, you batted your eyes and tried to give your most innocent smile. “What do you mean?”

Misha wasn’t buying it. He stormed forward, chin down, eyes tight on yours. “You. Talking about kissing Jared. I saw you.”

Despite his expression, you laughed. “Misha- I was just- that was just a question. I was only doing my job. Ya know, entertaining the masses.”

His upper lip twitched as he grit his teeth and growled. “Your job is not to embarrass me. Your job is to be mine.”

Anticipation and nervous energy swirled in your belly. “I’m...I’m sorry.”

He rushed at you in a blur, big hand curling around your back to grab a fistful of hair. “Not yet,” he assured you, teeth gnashing with jealous rage. “But you will be.” He let you go forcefully and you stumbled backward a step, knocking into the long oval conference table. Misha rolled up the sleeves of his blue sweater. “Turn around, girl. You need to be punished.”

A lustful haze overtook you and your eyes rolled just a bit. “Y-yes, Sir.” Before the words faded in the air, you had spun around and planted your palms on the polished oak table. Your bend wasn’t deep enough and Misha placed his big hand between your shoulder blades, pushing you forward until your tits smashed against the table.

Your breath fogged the shining tabletop as Misha ran his hand down your spine, all the way until he hit the hem of your dress.

“You wearing panties today, little girl?” he asked; tips of his fingers ghosting the back of your thigh.

Your voice shook when you answered. “Yes, Sir. I had to. I-I was on stage.”

Misha shook his head in disappointment. “Too bad.” His hand curled around the skirt and yanked it up, exposing your panties and lower back to the room. “I hope you didn’t like these.”

Two firm rips later, your underwear lay in shreds on the ugly navy carpet. Cool air hit your pussy and you realized then just how wet he was making you. A moan left your lips before you could catch it.

“Oh, my little slut likes this?” Misha asked, dragging his right hand down over the globe of your ass.

“Yes, Sir,” you whispered in reply. “Feels good.”

“Does it?”

A crack filled the silence of the room as Misha spanked you, nice and hard, on the right. You gasped as the tingling pain spread across your cheek and sank deep inside, your flesh absorbing the heat of it.

“Yes,” you moaned, knowing that not answering him would lead to a worse punishment.

“Good.”

Another slap, harder this time, burned his handprint into your skin. You bit your lip to keep from crying as his hand came down in the exact same spot once more.

“Bad girls break the rules,” he reminded you, continually whacking your tender flesh. “When you break the rules, you get punished.” Each snap of his wrist made your heart skip and your eyes roll; your body was shaking under his reprimand, leaking with arousal. “You don’t want to be a bad girl, do you?”

“No, S-s-sir!” It was hard to think, hard to speak, hard to do anything but take each blow and drag it deep inside, let your body swallow it down. Your cunt was aching, dripping, begging for release, but the hits kept coming.

Side to side he moved, making sure to cover the most sensitive spots, knowing you would feel him the rest of the day. Every time you sat down, any time someone bumped into you, there would be a silent hiss and your eyes would grow wider; remembering your punishment, remembering his hands on you.

“Are you ready to be my good girl again, Y/N?” Another crack on the left and a soothing rub.

“Yes, Sir! Please! Wanna be your good girl!”

Misha leaned down, covering your back and pressing you into the hard table. “I’m not so sure.” His teeth caught your ear and you whimpered pitifully.

“I-I’m sorry,” you prayed, barely able to breathe with his weight on top of you.

“Are you?”

A deep shiver ran through you as his voice filled your mind. “Yes!” you pleaded. “Yes, I’m so sorry. I’m yours. Always. No more Jared talk I swear!”

“Then cum.”

“What?”

Misha stood up and you gasped as the air filled your lungs. “If you’re so sorry, then cum,” he said again. “Right now. I want to feel it.”

As you took your next breath, Misha shoved his hand between your thighs and pressed his palm up against your cunt, pressing hard. Every muscle was tense and you could feel each line of his hand against your wetness, feel the heat from his skin. With his free hand, he slapped your ass once more and you came, feeling the balloon pop instantly. It was small but the stream of pleasure rolled through you, making your shoulders shake and your jaw drop in a heavy pant.

Satisfied by the flood against his hand, Misha grinned and tapped your hip. “Good. Now, spread your legs nice and wide.”

Your feet moved without a thought, shuffling over the carpet to spread yourself open for him.

Misha dropped his zipper and let his jeans hang around his thighs. “There’s my girl.” He was inside before you could blink, slamming deep inside your pulsing cunt without an ounce of hesitation. He felt like heaven after the beating, felt so good to be filled up by his familiar heft, but his thighs slapping against your ass burned. He rode you into the table, belt buckle stinging your sore backside; rough denim scratching your aching thighs. It was heaven and hell suddenly, and you couldn’t think for the pleasure building inside again.

Misha came, slamming you hard into the edge of the table, surely bruising your belly. You could feel the press of his firm thighs, the explosion of heat, his heavy breath raining down upon you. He stayed there even as he came down, letting your pussy convulse around him as long as it could.

“Have you learned a lesson, baby girl?” His palm slid up your back as he leaned over you once more.

Dazed and happy, shaking and sleepy, you answered in a rambling string of words that passed no filter, they just were. “Yes, sir. Yes. I promise to behave. Always.”

“Good.” He kissed the nape of your neck and nuzzled in for a brief moment, breathing you in, holding you tight.

Finally, he moved away and you stood up; legs and back aching from the long-held position. “Wow,” you commented with a lazy smile. “That was...wow.” Your hair was a mess, but you did the best you could, brushing it back from your sweaty face.

Misha smiled sweetly as he righted his outfit, taking care to retuck his undershirt and adjust the sleeves of his sweater.

The big clock on the wall gave made you startle. “Shit! I have like ten mins before photos. I gotta go get cleaned up.” You shivered to clear your head and then took a step towards the door, ready to sneak out and find a restroom.

Before your second step, Misha’s hand shot out and took hold of your wrist, pulling you back. “No,” he growled. “I want my cum dripping out of you in front of all those fans.” His eyes were filled with the devil and you shuddered at the thought. “I want them all to suspect, to smell it on you. You’re mine.”

You swallowed hard as you stared up at your Sir, nodding in absolute obedient compliance.

“Yes, Sir. Only Yours.”

2020 Forever Tags: @67-chevy-baby @akshi8278 @akhuna01 @amanda-teaches @because-imma-lady-assface @blondemarvelchick @blushingjared @broiderie @burningcoffeetimetravel @classic-rock-angel @cosicas-cuquis @covered-byroses @crashdevlin @deansgirl215 @deans-baby-momma @deangirl7695 @deanwanddamons @deanwinchesterswitch @defenderrosetyler @dolphincliffs @dontshootmespence @edge-oftonight @emoryhemsworth @fandom-princess-forevermore @feelmyroarrrr @flamencodiva @focusonspn @herbologystudent252 @heycasbutt @hornyandsmol @ilovefanfic86 @i-love-superhero @ilsawasanacrobat @imjustadrummer @ivvitm1109 @joseyrw @justagirlinafandomworld @justcallmeasmodeus @katymacsupernatural @laxe-from-outer-space @leatherandfrackles @lessons-of-red @letsby @letsdisneythings @lonewolf471 @maddiepants @mariekoukie6661 @meganwinchester1999 @missjenniferb @mrswhozeewhatsis @mummybear @onethirstyunicorn @our-jensen-ackles-love @screechingartisancashbailiff @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @starboycas @stephaniecanfield96us @stoneyggirl @squirrelnotsam @thebookisbtr @thehardcoveraddict @thevelvetseries @veevm @winchestersister55 @wendibird @winecatsandpizza @winterpoohbear

#misha x reader #spn fanfic #smut #one shot #misha collins x reader

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justsome-di · 5 years ago

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This was posted on the second tier of my patreon last week! At the moment, I post a bit of Good Omens fics, but I also post original stories. By becoming a patron, you can access all of my writing content. Some works are posted here and on my AO3 a week after they’re up on Patreon, but there are still a good chunk that are exclusive to patrons!

It was a dreary day that made a person hide away in her room with her best friend, pressing a puff to her cheeks lackadaisically as she sat at her vanity.

I was that person. It was my vanity, my best friend, and it was my puff I was pressing to my own cheeks in the aforementioned lackadaisical fashion.

It was a day that was dreary not because of the weather—I find no weather dreary because the weather is only doing its best and can’t always be expected to be sunny and warm. Sometimes the weather needs breaks—like people. We can’t always wear smiles. Sometimes we have to sit in our rooms and mope for a bit as I was doing. A little rain never hurt anyone. Except for maybe that Noah fellow in the Bible. Or, I suppose, all of the people who weren’t Noah. But I’m neither Noah nor the people who weren’t Noah at that specific point in time, and the rain had never wronged me. What had wronged me was my parent’s insistence that I marry.

I’d been very fed up with hearing my father say You’re not going to stay young forever. Pretty women need a good man, and women like you especially need a good man. But I’d always put on a brave face for my parents and nodded along as they listed men that they thought could work for me. I had met a few. I didn’t like any of them. They were too serious for my tastes, and they didn’t understand me. I needed someone who could listen to my gossip and read the same fashion magazines that I studied night and day. But many men don’t read fashion magazines, and that’s all fine and dandy in the end. They would just have to be able to listen to me talk about my studies and carry my bags as I shopped for what the magazines had told me to buy. A good woman, in my opinion, is always in need of a good man who will carry her bags. It’s symbolic or what have you. A smarter person would be able to explain it, but I still carry my firm belief that a man should be supportive in his wife’s shopping.

“I really don’t want to meet this gentleman today,” I said. I didn’t want to meet him any day. “I’m not feeling adventurous enough. I wish I could just be his pen pal for a little bit before we rush into dinner and marriage.”

“No matter what, Mr. Kingsley can’t be the worst,” Stella said, though she said it with a grimace. “Just remember that egg Agatha was briefly engaged to in May. He was a nightmare. I don’t think a man worse than that could exist. Remember how he told her uncle how often he had been sent to bed without supper while away at school? What was it that he would do? Put thumbtacks on the teachers’ chairs and pour milk into inkwells so the rooms would smell sour without anyone being able to tell where it was coming from? He was awful. She deserved so much better, the poor thing. I’ve told her over and over, though, that she needs to take a break from relationships and fill her time with education or something of the sort. Just to build her independence. Women have a lot to learn.”

Stella sat on my armchair. Occasionally, she caught a glance of herself in my mirror and maybe pressed a hand to a flyaway hair sticking up from her bob cut or ran the tip of her finger along her lipstick. She wasn’t always so vain (as I had sometimes been called every time I looked at myself passing by a mirror or particularly reflective window). She usually had her nose shoved in books or had her hands in paint. But she had taken a special interest in her makeup and hair ever since returning to America a few months ago. I had taught her everything I had learned over the years. I passed down old pencils and paints and helped trim up her hair. She was still the woman I had grown up with. Just prettier. Not that she wasn’t pretty before. She was just able to draw attention to the features I had begged her to draw attention to forever—her dainty nose and lips, her almond-shaped eyes. I was glad she had gotten over her silly idea that makeup didn’t do anything to make a woman feel better.

Stella and I were as similar as two peas in different pods.

She was as smart and cultured as anyone could ever get. Over the summer, she had gone to Paris to study art. In her letters, she told me how she spent her mornings in museums, her afternoons in cafés chatting with people of similar intelligence, and her evenings painting under the instruction of a young, French bohemian man. It sounded fairly boring to me, but she wrote such beautiful letters and occasionally included little sketches on cardstock. She told me about the people she met—all fancy writers that she insisted I read as soon as possible. I bought all of the books she told me about, but they only served to fill my bookshelf that had remained empty since my childhood. They looked beautiful, and I encouraged Stella to recommend me more while she was abroad.

Meanwhile, I had accompanied my father to work every day over the summer, going to his office and watching him write down numbers and tell people Yes, I think we can make that work or No, there’s no room in our budget. We cut that department by 40% last quarter, don’t you remember? I ought to fire you for nearly doing so stupid. The executives and I will discuss it in our board meeting with the president and CEO or something businessy of that sort. To be honest, I never really listened all that closely. I mostly stared at his pencil sharpener, dreaming about eating the lunch my mother and I would have made that morning that always sat next to my father’s desk. I would wonder if the bread was getting too hard or if I would enjoy the fruit after it had set outside the icebox for so long. My father could have been saying anything. I didn’t even know his position. He had told me that I should watch him at the family business so that one day I would be prepared to watch my future husband take over. He said that whenever I asked my husband for money—as I did with my father and as my mother did with him, too—I should know where that money comes from. I would write Stella pages and pages of rambling letters before dinner every day. At night, I would have to find any party to go to just shake off the grimy feeling the business had left on me.

My mother would occasionally listen to my retellings of the drama of the workplace, and she nodded with the utmost sympathy and petted my hair. She would say something in her high, mousey voice that would do little to comfort me. Her talk was always about how we had to do what’s best for our men. Even if that meant watching them do boring work. Stella was really the one who would do well to make me feel better in her letters. She was grounded, and she always knew what to say. She would recommend me even more books to empower my female spirit. They weren’t as attractive as the prettier ones she talked about. The titles themselves put me to sleep and the authors were usually dead, but I took her word that they were very good. I just couldn’t have old books in my possession.

Before I go any further with this story, I don’t want you thinking that Stella is any sort of drag. I’ll have you know that she knows a good time when she sees one. While in Paris—the city of art and love and such romantic stuff—she took good advantage of the alcohol. The Good Samaritans such as myself hadn’t had a drop of alcohol in America since the prohibition. Stella missed it sorely and drank the finest wine she could get her hands on while abroad. I had imagined that her Bohemian lover had whisked her away to his little apartment every night after a bottle and shown her what men from the city had to offer. She didn’t really say it to me, but I understood the twinkle in her eyes and the blush on her cheeks when she talked about him. She was going to go back to Paris and take me with her to meet her artist. I was thrilled to meet him and see what kind of influence he had on my Stella.

Stella had her whole life planned ahead of her. She would marry an intelligent artist, they would have little artist children, and she could spend all her time reading the novels she loved so much and painting because her children would be little, wonderfully well-behaved creatures that would obey every word their fair parents would tell them. When she got tired of painting, she would turn to writing essays about—what does she call it? Feminism? She could write essay upon essay about that. She would have a lovely cook in her home and a delightful maid that never snatched an earring or couple of coins when no one was around. I once had a maid who took one of my favorite bracelets, and I had the hardest time asking for it back. I eventually told my father, and she was fired the next day.

I hadn’t the foggiest clue what my future would be like.

“What do you think he’s like?” I asked.

“Mr. Kingsley?”

“Of course.”

“I think he’ll be nice,” Stella said.

She shrugged. A sign of indifference. She looked away as well, and I wondered if she was hiding something that was ruffling her feathers.

“Nice?” I asked

“Nice enough. I can imagine the man your parents would find for you. He’s probably the same type of egg as your father.”

She was doing her best to avoid my eyes, and she frowned so heavily. I pushed on with the conversation anyways.

“That’s what I’m worried about. Maybe I don’t want to marry a paternal-imitating egg. Maybe I’d like to be with a poet.”

“A poet?”

“Or someone like that. Someone not involved in business. Maybe a film actor would suit me better?”

Stella almost laughed. “How are you going to meet a film actor? Your family isn’t that important.”

“I could become an actress.”

“You?”

“I think I could make a career in the movies. Be a sweetheart. You know, like Mary Pickford.”

“Really?”

“Yes. It’s not as though they talk much. I wouldn’t have any lines to learn.”

Stella hummed. She was amused by my plan, I could tell, but she didn’t realize that I was being absolutely serious. I had dabbled in theatre in school—as she very well knew—and had gotten the role of one of the maids in Hamlet. And theatre, I’ve heard, is much more challenging than films. If I was an astounding maid, then I would be phenomenal in films. As I had just said to Stella, film actors have no lines. No one would ever know what my voice sounded like.

“Think of how little we know about how good these actors are at delivering lines. I have it on good authority that that Chaplin fellow has an English accent,” I said. “Can you believe that? An English accent!”

“Most people from England, I believe, have English accents. And I’m not sure if an accent dictates how well someone is at acting.”

Stella wasn’t keeping up. Of course, the accent didn’t mean anything to his acting. It was the fact that we didn’t know he had an accent. If we couldn’t even place something so big as his country of origin then how would we know if he was any good at monologues? It was as if she didn’t want to have this conversation.

“As I was saying,” I said, putting my nose in the air. “I think I would make a fine film actress. All I would have to do is make those poses and move my mouth a bit. Mary Pickford is so glamorous, wouldn’t you say? And Douglas Fairbanks.”

“Of course.”

“I could be glamorous. I could go to those parties and premieres. I’m just as pretty as the rest of them.”

“You really want to be known as just pretty? Darling, you wouldn’t have a voice. You’d just be a face. Are you sure you’re okay with that?”

“It’s more than just being a pretty face on screen. I’d have to be in the public. I’d have to play tennis!”

“Tennis?”

“Yes! Haven’t you seen those pictures of Charles Chaplin and Douglas Fairbanks playing tennis? All movie stars must do it.”

“I’m not sure where your mind goes sometimes.”

“Stella keep up! This is important. This is my future.”

I felt bad for the dear. She had such a one-track mind. It made conversations with her so hard at times.

“Do you think Mr. Kingsley plays tennis?” I asked. “It would be delightful if he did.”

Stella didn’t answer. Her face had taken on a somber look—the same look my mother had when she had told me that my pet fish had to go to the country to soothe his nerves. I never saw him again. My mother told me that he had found a better life, and he would be healthier with his new family. I always suspected that he had really died.

I worried about Stella’s face. She pressed her lips together in a thin line and drew her eyebrows together. She looked nervous to speak. The conversation wasn’t about tennis or movies anymore.

“Can I be frank?” Stella asked.

“You can be anything you want to be.”

I was ashamed that my voice wasn’t stronger, but, you see, I’m not a fan of serious conversations. My parents always avoided them, and I never learned how to cope when presented with one.

“It doesn’t matter if he plays tennis or not,” Stella began. “I don’t think you want to meet any man for dinner that your father chooses for you. It doesn’t matter if Mr. Kingsley is exactly like you, your relationship isn’t going to work because it’s forced. And furthermore, I don’t think it’s right for your father to do this. You should be able to find a man on your own. I have no doubt that your father has your best interest in heart, but for God’s sake, it’s 1927. We’re free.”

I smiled as well as I could. For Stella’s sake. I think she relied on my happy demeanor a lot.

“This is how things are,” I said, trying to sound casual. “My parents are depending on this.”

“I’m being serious,” she snapped. “It’s not right for you to marry whoever they want while other girls are going out, voting, getting jobs, and driving! You still haven’t learned to drive even though you promised me you would!”

“That’s different!” My voice was rising, and I suppose it sounded a bit like my mother’s. “Driving is scary! I’m not sure how you do it. I can’t sit behind a hunk of metal and not hit anyone—”

“Because your parents have told you that you shouldn’t drive. I told you I would teach you.”

“I don’t have to drive to embrace these womanly rights you’re always on about.”

“Maybe not, but it’s more than driving. You freeze in any situation. Driving would teach you how to take control. To take yourself to where you need—want—to go with no one else able to stop you. To feel yourself leave behind your home for just a little bit.” Stella looked at her lap for a moment and took a deep breath. When she spoke again, her voice was calm again. “You at least need to stand up to your parents. You need to tell them that you’re going to find someone for yourself.”

I didn’t want to fight. I hated fights. I believed I was allergic to them and had been meaning to talk to a doctor about it.

I crossed the room to sit on the ottoman in front of her chair. My mother had picked out all the furniture in the room. I sat forward a little bit. I could feel my dress riding up my thigh as it caught on the ottoman. The first time I had come out of my room in a short dress, my parents had thrown a fit. They said that showing knees didn’t get a woman respect. My mother even called me a harlot, and I was offended when I looked it up in the dictionary later that evening. I was also surprised (and a little impressed) that my mother knew such a big word. Stella would have been proud of me if she had seen me lifting my chin and telling them It’s fashionable, and I’m not going to caught dead in something that looks like it’s from the War. She would have clapped and told me that the suffragettes had a similar attitude over lunch. Instead, she embraced me when she saw me that same day and said We’re liberated—knees and all. While she wasn’t the most up-to-date on fashion, her bare knees were the first I saw. I never told her what my parents thought about it.

“It’s not that easy,” I said to Stella. I couldn’t be angry. It wasn’t an emotion I was very keen on. “I have a responsibility. You can meet French artists and paint sunsets. You have a brother who’s taking care of the family. I’m all my parents have, and I have to do this for them.”

“You don’t owe anyone anything.”

“I do. I owe my parents a son-in-law and an heir, and I owe Mr. Kingsley dinner in an hour.”

My chest felt tight. I grabbed my necklace that hung so low that it almost rested in my lap. I would have to change into jewelry more conservative before I left. But before then, I would roll the pearls closest to my chest between my fingers. My mother would have told me that ladies didn’t fidget like she always did when I played with jewelry. Ladies are statues, she would tell me. I always asked her about our relationship with pigeons when I saw them gather on grey stone in the city, and she would only answer Just do your best to be polite to them.

“Think about who are you,” Stella said. “Because I don’t think you know who that is.”

“I know who I am.”

“Yeah? Then who are you?”

It wasn’t a fair question. No one would know how to answer that. I knew who I was as well as anyone else. Stella wouldn’t go up to a random person on the streets and ask them as sternly as she asked me without getting an odd look or a business card.

“You used to tell me that doing whatever your parents wanted infuriated you. What happened to that girl?”

She grew up.

I wasn’t a little girl anymore, kicking rocks because my parents made me go to a stuffy dinner while Stella was never forced to meet her parents’ drab friends. I was an adult, and I was realizing that a lot more compromises had to be made. The more I learned about the world, the more I realized how much I was missing out on.

“If you want to be Mrs. Kingsley or Mrs. Whoever-Your-Parents-Find, then I won’t hold you back. You know I’d support you in whatever you choose to do. But I’m scared for you. Don’t convince yourself that you want this. I know you have a brain in there somewhere.” She smiled a little. “You can use it to think for yourself.”

“I don’t use it for much else, I suppose.”

“Exactly.”

“I’m not sure about this. I don’t want to disappoint my parents. Or Mr. Kingsley. He’s done nothing wrong.”

“Would you rather disappoint yourself? Make a life with a man you hardly know and have his children and spend your days with a stranger? You can go to dinner with him tonight, or I can take you out. It’ll be just the two of us. We haven’t had dinner together in a while, have we? I still haven’t told you about my last letter from Victor.”

Victor was her Bohemian artist. She was crazy for him, and they had found each other on their own.

“Let me think about this. It’s making my head ache.”

I looked to my vanity only to avoid Stella’s eyes. I had my makeup sitting out, ready to touch up what was already on my face. My hairbrush was next to the powders and lipsticks for when I had to pull out tangles before I left. I even had my outfit hanging on my wardrobe door. It was the only outfit my mother had approved of. It was the longest skirt I owned, and the blouse with the highest neck. It was such a bland color. Light blue. Close to grey like an old woman’s hair. I was fond of black dresses and bright blouses. I should have thrown it out a year ago. My mother was making me wear my lowest heels, as well, and I had wanted to vomit over how old I looked. I looked as old as the women that gave me dirty looks when I went into town. I looked as old as my mother. I could have been going to church in that outfit, for Christ’s sake! No respectable girl of my age should have been forced into that.

I took great care to read about the newest fashions and trends from everywhere—England, France, Japan, etc. I had cut off my hair at 17 when I realized (way too late I confess) that long hair in up-dos had been out of fashion for quite some time. I transformed overnight. I looked like Edna Purviance. I had thought about getting on a train to Hollywood to show a movie director or modeling agency that I had the look. I had the short waves even if they were a bit crooked. My jaw and neck were exposed, and I felt scandalous and exposed. My mother almost fainted.

I discovered makeup the same year. I learned how to hold my hand steady to apply eyelashes and how to draw a cupid’s bow on my lips that Clara Bow herself would be jealous of. I propped up magazines next to my mirror and yanked at my eyebrows with tweezers until they looked similar to what I was seeing. I found a shade of blush that didn’t make me look like I had an odd infection but instead had spent a decent amount of time laughing and being happy. I painted thin lines around my eyes and dabbed a modest amount of eyeshadow on my lids. Stella and I had helped each other find powders that would make us look paler but not like corpses. I practiced my pout in the mirror and experimented with holding my head at different angles.

Later, after I was away from the judgment of school teachers, I had begged my father for money for a new wardrobe. I gave a whole speech about he should want a trendy daughter. I’ve already told you their reaction to seeing me in my first short dress.

Stella looked at her wristwatch in resignation.

“I should be leaving.”

She stood. I grabbed her hand.

“Give me a little time,” I told her. “I’d like to write Mr. Kingsley a letter for when he comes. I can’t turn a man down to his face. I also need to touch up my face and hair. I can’t be seen like this in public. Let’s go to that little café around the corner, and then, I think, there’s a movie playing this evening. We can make it if we hurry.”

I tried not to think about how furious my parents would be, and I tried not paying attention to the tightening of my stomach that killed my appetite and interest in films. I put my faith in Stella and prayed that Victor had a brother.

#Original Work #original writing

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bladekindeyewear · 5 years ago

Text

HS^2 bloggin’ mainline 2020-02-24

IT’S ONLY BEEN TEN FUCKING DAYS HOW OFTEN ARE WE GONNA GET THIS STUFF

IT’S NOT EVEN A BONUS IT’S SOME MAINLINE THING

Alright, clicking the log to find my place as usual (while squinting so I don’t see too much), I see... one new page... THAT’s ominous.�� Unless they’re doing the thing Andrew used to do and only showing the surface link so as not to spoil the update length/contents in the log, which would be nice given the new site format. (Also I’ll be covering the commentary for the previous chapter here that went up on Patreon.)

...um. what?

Well, it doesn’t say [S]...

> Chapter 5. YOUR 3Y3S H4V3 B33N CLOS3D

CONTENT NOTE: This chapter contains Discussions of Suicide.

Thanks.

...I kinda understand the need for inclusion of this, though. Not the trigger warning, that’s genuinely appreciated, I mean the working-through of many of these characters’ probably suicidal-verging thoughts given the bullshit the Epilogues have put them through, and the leadup events thereof. Or, from the looks of this page trying to lay out how to create these new alien races, clearly based in part on pages of her Zoologically Dubious grimoire...

...the creations THEMSELVES wanting to commit suicide, if I had to guess.

(Hooves? Dirk. Don’t let this become a Musclebeasts VS Horrorterrors session. Whoever wins, we clearly lose.)

*scrooooll*

Ohh, I get it. It’s a single really long-form story-image to montage the process to us, instead of a series of panels. THAT’S why it’s a one-page upd8.

What are you clowns doing? (And that architecture and teal road below it is looking kind of Land of Thought and Flow-y too.)

Hah, poor Rose, just float-noping on out of there cause Dirk’s pushing his whole Cave-shadows-on-the-wall allusion. Are you getting bored of this monstrous process, Rose? Yes? No??

Taking a floatwalk across the gorgeous alien landscape? (Wait, your robot floats without rocket boosters? Neat. Is that technology or God-Tier flight? Did it need to be a fancy robot to integrate the latter or was that just yours for free?)

What will she run into to make sense of the title of this chapter-panel?

...Wait.

Did Terezi run back to the ship to snoop on that thing Dirk had been hiding while he and Rose were distracted?

I hope that’s what she did.

Eeeewww. It looked MUCH cooler when your human eye did a magic sun thing.

Yes, yes, you have a technosight HUD, that’s no excuse, your magic was still cooler.

The whimsical wandering angle of this shot makes it unclear whether Rose is flying ahead while looking into the sky, or has suddenly flopped forward onto her face on a pale patch of ground.

Ooh, and now we have text! ...Which makes it unlikely that Terezi successfully snooped anything important unless Dirk would narratively let her. Shit.

Wait, the command for this page might make sense if she was using the command terminal in the ship to mess with Dirk or someone else, possibly to give her the opportunity to pull something. Right?

The soft whitenoise ringing of the extensive ventilation network sounds, if she closes her nose just right, like the rustle of wind through the leaves of a treehive universes away.

...closes her nose. ¬___¬

but Terezi isn’t distracted from the main object of her focus — the unconscious body of Rose Lalonde, bathed in dim light, chest rising and falling in an artificially-induced slumber.

Good. Her body had better fucking stay alive for a while. They killed Davebot’s outright, since he was an “extra”, essentially -- Rose’s needs to stay alive if we’re to have fucking hope that Kanaya can snatch her up in a comfortable non-robotic embrace and get her out of this self-centered, brainwashed nightmare.

Wires and tubes run up from her plinth to the ceiling of the chamber, keeping her alive, yes, but too much just for that purpose. Something about the tangle of intravenous tubing and fiber optic cable makes Terezi think of the old stories about the Ψiioniic.

Mhmm. She has to stay connected to and pilot her body.

ROSE: There you are. I haven’t seen much of you. TEREZI: IV3 B33N R1GHT H3R3 FOR HOURS TEREZI: BUT YOUR 3Y3S H4VE B33N CLOS3D TH3 WHOL3 T1M3 >:[

--Oh. I’d misremembered the chapter name as “your eyes are NOW closed”. So it probably wasn’t some sort of trick. (Unless she’s lying here, and tricked Rose into THINKING her body wasn’t kind of half-awake for a moment, potentially rebelliously? .....nah.)

Better question, though...

Why does Terezi care so much?

I can imagine the old Terezi getting attached enough to Rose (and Kanaya) to look at this and feel bad enough to stare, but...? She used her emotional distance from most of her remaining friends to vamoose with these people a long while ago. (Which was a pity.) How did those feelings and that empathy get resurrected way out here?

Rosebot turns her head to look back at the frail, failing vessel that once housed her consciousness. She doesn't even dispatch a fake laugh to her behavioral display matrix in pity of this half-joke.

Fuck you. Dirk is writing half of this.

ROSE: Your attachment to my comatose body is unexpectedly charming, as well as slightly sinister. ROSE: She isn’t going to do anything. ROSE: She isn’t coming back from where she’s gone. TEREZI: YOU N3V3R KNOW

Does Terezi really care about Rose that much now?

Also, fuck you, Dirk-manipulating-Rose’s-worldview.

I mean, I know she’s probably really deep into all her new power and foresight, even as herself, but she wouldn’t be nearly as dismissive and comfortable if Dirk hadn’t been shaping her with mind control for years.

ROSE: Yes, I suppose that’s true. ROSE: Anything can happen, you can’t see the future, etc. etc. ROSE: Except I can. I can see the trajectory the story needs to take, and thus I know the trajectory it will take. ROSE: And resurrecting my meat puppet would not only be difficult to the point of being worthless, it would also be extremely lame. ROSE: Not that it would be out of character for this story. We live and breathe on the stupefyingly mind-numbing, and the mind-numbingly stupid.

They’re REALLY pushing her as a full fucking villain here. Benefits of transcending human flesh aside, she’s being WAY too dismissive of what she’s leaving behind, here. What came with this body besides the body itself. The attachments and Blood it means relinquishing and severing.

TEREZI: 1F WH4T YOU'R3 S4Y1NG 1S TRU3 TEREZI: 1F 4 STORY H4S TO B3 COMP3LL1NG TO B3 C4NON TEREZI: DO YOU R34LLY TH1NK D1RK 1S TH3 TYP3 TO T3LL 4 COMP3LL1NG STORY

A compelling story, yes!

But a heartless one.

TEREZI: H1S T4ST3 1N 4N1M3 4LON3 1S CONC3RN1NG TEREZI: 1 D1D 3NJOY TH3 ON3 4BOUT TH3 HORS3S THOUGH ROSE: I don't think that counts as "anime."

MLP is pretty colorful.

TEREZI: PL4Y1NG W1TH 4 WHOL3 WORLD L1K3 1T'S SOM3 K1ND OF SQU34KY LUSUS TOY DO3S SOUND L1K3 1T H4S 1TS MOM3NTS TEREZI: 1 M34N TEREZI: MY FR13NDS W4NT3D TO RUL3 YOUR L1TTL3 WORLD 4S P3TTY TYR4NTS 4FT3R W3 WON TH3 G4M3 OURS3LV3S TEREZI: BUT DO YOU TH1NK TH4T WOULD'V3 B33N FOR TH3 B3ST FOR YOU 4ND 4LL TH3 OTH3R M4MM4L14N W31RDOS ON YOUR PL4N3T >:/ ROSE: It didn't happen because it didn't happen. TEREZI: 1F 1 H4V3 TO H34R ON3 MOR3 T4UTOLOGY FROM 31TH3R OF YOU 1 4M GO1NG TO MOV3 TO TH3 WOODS 4ND PL4GU3 YOUR N3W SOC13TY 4S 4 H3RM1T BOG MONST3R FOR3V3R

Rose has stared into the sun so hard that she is LITERALLY BLIND. “It didn’t happen because it didn’t happen” is the worst, most basic and wrong level one Seer of Light thing she could possibly believe. She has completely fucking FORGOTTEN that she played through an entire game session that was clearly trying to TELL her something. TEACH her something. And is dismissing everything at play back then, everything that MADE reality and the final timeline what it WAS, as something at worst meaningless or just plotpoints in a subpar story, and at best a failed moral tale that she thinks she would write better in her sleep. She’s like... worse than inverted Rose right now. Where’s all this new Lighty wisdom she’s supposed to have? Jasprose is showing more foresight and prudence in the bonus chapters than she is as a PURE ultimate self, thanks to her own twisted ambitions and Dirk’s horse-blinders.

TEREZI: JUST B3C4US3 YOU'V3 3L3CT3D TO 4B4NDON TH3 CONC3PTS OF "GOOD" 4ND "B4D" 3NT1R3LY DO3SN'T M34N 1 DON'T ST1LL H4V3 MOR4L R3S3RV4T1ONS

...Yeah. I’d like to think that Rose would never do that on her own without Dirk’s twisting, but...

TEREZI: 1'M T4LK1NG 4BOUT TH3 B4S1C 4B1L1TY OF 1NT3LL1G3NT B31NGS 1N 4LL R34L 4ND HYPOTH3T1C4L PL4N3S OF 3X1ST3NC3 TO G1V3 4 SH1T TEREZI: 1 DON'T G1V3 4 SH1T TEREZI: 4ND HON3STLY 1 H4V3 4 H4RD T1M3 UND3RST4ND1NG WHY YOU DO

I didn’t expect the “Why would anyone read this crap?” line so early in the story. Still, this sequel WAS designed to both ask and answer this question... I shouldn’t be so surprised.

TEREZI: YOU D1DN'T DO MUCH "WORLDBU1LD1NG" WH3N YOU FUCK3D OFF FOR 3ONS 4ND L3T CH3SS P3OPL3 BU1LD YOUR PL4N3T ROSE: That approach failed. ROSE: Without an organized antagonistic force, the planet became fundamentally unsuited to relevance.

YOU FUCKING MORONS

THE GOAL OF MAKING A NEW UNIVERSE OUTSIDE OF CANON WAS TO ESCAPE RELEVANCE FOR PEACE!

Everything New Rose says makes me want to throttle her. :(

ROSE: We only know of one way to perpetuate canon for sure. To play and defeat the game, and continue the life cycle of the genesis frog we cling to parasitically.

WHY is “perpetuating canon” EVEN A GOAL

WHY if it isn’t even WORTH anything???

ROSE YOU SOUND LIKE A CASH-IN-HUNGRY MOVIE PRODUCER

ROSE: Now it is protected, in the steady hands of a duly-elected ruler, sure to have a boring and uneventful perpetual term in office.

Oh my GOD, Rose. You thought leaving Racist Jane in charge was going to just be peachy?

ROSE: As the sheer number of doomed universes our actions in the game spun off should show, we barely understood the design at the time. ROSE: Truly, we stumbled through the tape of the finish line ass-first, cheating all the way.

I suppose I can agree on a small sliver of this, a tangent -- one of the same reasons I was so surprised when Homestuck’s finale closed so few threads:

You all clearly didn’t have time to learn enough lessons.

ROSE: But there was no table of judges waiting to adjudicate our performance by holding up little placards with numbers on them. ROSE: We are the observers, and we are the judges. ROSE: We won, and to the victor go the spoils. ROSE: If you want a hand in making the rules of this new world, then don't storm off.

Terezi knows better than this. The trolls “WON” with this attitude, and were hoisted on the resulting petard. Ah, there we go, and she’s saying just that:

TEREZI: YOU'R3 TRY1NG TO L34D M3 TO 4CC3PT YOUR MOR4L FR4M3WORK TEREZI: WH4T 1F NO ON3 SHOULD CONTROL 4 UN1V3RS3 TEREZI: 4LL W3 FOUGHT 4G41NST W4S MONST3RS WHO CONV3RT3D POW3R 1NTO CONTROL TEREZI: 4ND NOT 3V3RYTH1NG W3 LOST F1GHT1NG TH3M W4S 4 M1ST4K3 TEREZI: TH3R3 W4S 4 LOT S4CR1F1C3D FOR TH3 1D34 OF "GOOD" TEREZI: WH4T'S TH3 PO1NT 1N CONT1NU1NG TH1S STORY 1F TH4T W4S M34N1NGL3SS TEREZI: 1F LORD 3NGL1SH W4S JUST HOLD1NG UP TH3 WORLD TEREZI: 1F 1T T4K3S 4CT1NG L1K3 H1M TO K33P 1T 4L1V3 TEREZI: WOULDN'T 1T B3 B3TT3R TO JUST L3T 1T D13

...but that crazy, ruled-over multiverse they ended up escaping is exactly what we think they’re going to end up CREATING in this story, right? A contained loop of countless universes that follow the same rules they fought so hard to shrug off, many enslaved and miserable under Lord English’s rampaging thumbs? In trying to do it “better” her own way, Rose is going to possibly end up creating the exact system she once tried to reject.

Congratulations! You’ll have created a prison. For your Ultimate Villain, AND yourselves. I just hope you come to your senses and dodge getting trapped inside there again.

Rosebot looks over at the plinth where her body sits, kept alive, sure, but atrophied and weak, dependent on this machine to continue projecting consciousness to the abiotic enclosure keeping the realization of the Ultimate Self from tearing her apart.

Wouldn't it be better to just let it die? Terezi isn't asking new questions. Rose had first threatened suicide when she was eight.

Ah, damn. That’s the route we’re going with this conversation, huh.

I was wondering whether keeping Rose’s body alive was “necessary” for the functioning of this particular level of robo-self tech, or whether it’s the last vestige of her vacillation, refusing to cut it off completely yet only because some NON-FUCKING-BRAINWASHED piece of her is wondering if she’ll eventually decide that all this isn’t “right” after all, that she can accept being “less” if it makes her happy.

Explaining things to someone not aided by the exponential increase in processing power Rosebot has is tedious. Terezi's hesitation won't be swayed by explaining more of the universe. There's another source at work.

Source? What?

ROSE: You said it yourself, that you don't give a shit. ROSE: This melancholy, this meaninglessness you're feeling? ROSE: I think there's another explanation for it. One having little to do with the structural soundness of our plan.

Oh, THAT kind of source. Fuck you, psychoanalyzing anybody else when you’re like THIS right now.

ROSE: You are fucking depressed. TEREZI: OH TH4NK YOU DOCTOR SC13NC3 TEREZI: L3T M3 T4K3 OUT MY HUM4N CH3CKBOOK TO P4Y YOU FOR TH3S3 1NV4LU4BL3 HUM4N 1NS1GHTS

How would you have the slightest impression that Terezi ISN’T completely aware of this, Rose? Why do you think she CAME with you???

ROSE: The constant insistence that everything is as it ought to be isn’t just counterproductive, it’s pathetic.

Oh, you think she’s projecting. Fuck you.

ROSE: From one seer to another, we both know how bad you’ve gotten in the past. ROSE: Or, if not in the past, in some past. ROSE: I have no desire to meet that Terezi, no matter how doubtlessly sticky and charming she might be.

Eugh. It’s interesting that you know so thoroughly about non-blind faygo-chugging Terezi from that timeline (who Terezi fully knows about too), but using it against her is pretty low.

TEREZI: W3 4R3N'T FR13NDS TEREZI: GO 4H34D 4ND DO YOUR 4RTS 4ND CR4FTS PROJ3CT W1TH P3OPL3'S L1V3S

But she DOES keep staring at Rose’s life-support body... so she DOES care somehow.

ROSE: Your life is going to be short, compared to mine and Dirk’s, but that doesn’t mean it has to be boring. TEREZI: TH3 TWO OF YOU R34LLY 4R3 M4D3 FOR 34CH OTH3R

Just, a tragedy what an asshole she’s been transformed into.

TEREZI: 1S TH4T WHY YOU L3FT K4N4Y4 B3H1ND TEREZI: B3C4US3 YOU KNOW SO FUCK1NG MUCH 4BOUT "F4M1LY" ROSE: I would be careful if I were you. ROSE: The weight of what I know and you do not is enough to overwhelm a mortal frame. TEREZI: UGH SHUT UP TEREZI: STOP PULL1NG TH1S MYST1C4L BULLSH1T 3V3RY T1M3 TEREZI: DON’T YOU M1SS H3R? ROSE: Don’t you? TEREZI: YOUR CONST4NT D3FL3CT1ON 1S 4S PO1NTL3SS 4S 1T 1S 1N3FF3CT1V3

Yeah, Terezi looking at Rose’s body and seeing constantly that crime committed against Kanaya is enough excuse to stare at Rose’s floating body, if she cares about Kanaya.

Too bad Rose is incapable of even THINKING about Kanaya properly as long as Dirk’s influence persists, and Terezi practically or literally knows it.

ROSE: We are obliged to act. To save the concept of meaning itself by continuing to spin the narrative loom into new tapestries.

Said the movie producer plonking down for the creation of Fast 7.

TEREZI: D1D YOU W4NT 4LL TH1S? TEREZI: OR D1D TH3 PR1NC3 >:?

Abruptly, Terezi is lifted from the ground with a glidingly-smooth effortless motion. Metal is so much stronger than flesh. She flashes a sharp-toothed grin as her feet dangle uselessly in front of the lithe metallic form of her counterpart Seer. Inspiring a reaction like this from Rose's robotic placidity has been like squeezing blood from a stone on this years-long journey.

Delicious, candy-red blood.

Oh hell fucking yes. Is THIS what you were after, you beautiful troll? Terezi just proved that SOME deep level of Rose has recognized that she’s being manipulated, and refuses to accept it for the sake of her own ego. She couldn’t possibly get so ANGRY otherwise. :D

ROSE: I know what I have lost. I have taken a full account of it. I cannot and will not forget it. ROSE: But to cling to it as it faded to nothing would be a meaningless capitulation to entropy.

Why do you value “perpetuation” so much? She asked you before, and you barely gave a straight answer.

ROSE: Someone must sit atop Olympus and propagate the fabric of reality upon which these memories sit. ROSE: That is the task we have taken on. The game does not feel. The game does not mourn. The game must be played, and we must guide those who will play it better than we ourselves were guided.

DID it need YOU though? You already had a universe under your belt. YOU didn’t have to be the one to cause all this. But I suppose it’s too late now -- you will be, and you might end up regretting it.

ROSE: Just as I have remembered the good, I can recall the terror that consumed me and overwhelmed my body. ROSE: The visions of dissolution. The narrative unspooling. A thousand voices shouting contradiction. ROSE: What value is a marriage, temporary domestic bliss, if all is lost? ROSE: You understand this bargain.

Yeah-- it’s pretty clear here now.

The heroes’ goal in the initial comic, and the reward they earned -- while unclear on paper and DEFINITELY not spelled out -- was to “stop being Homestuck”. Was to escape the bounds of the comic, to almost KILL the comic.

But that was a little vaguely put, before. HS^2 has done us the favor of making it an EXPLICIT GOAL of the heroes.

ROSE: Is your resentment towards my choice about Kanaya, or about V–

BONK. Rosebot's even metallic voice is interrupted by the bang of skull against metal, and Terezi's headbutt collapses the both of them into a crumpling heap of metal and flesh.

That was a step too far. Tensions that once simmered under the surface have found the catalyst for a boil.

Terezi’s barely holding on if she’s going to get so dramatic so fast.

Or Dirk’s writing this so dramatic, anyway.

Rosebot finally has Terezi pinned to the ground by the throat. A cool metallic knee is pressed hard between her legs, holding her down. A natural pause in the staccato squabble is found, and two pairs of red eyes are locked on each other.

Oh God, don’t <3< please.

TEREZI: 1 T4K3 1T B4CK TEREZI: TURNS OUT 1 ST1LL 3NJOY T4LK1NG TO YOU >:]

Ah, shit. Weakness for Light players, huh.

Rosebot leans in close. Terezi can smell the licorice-black lipstick, the same kind as always, applied now to synthetic polymer lips inches away from her own. Rosebot's metal fingers close just a little tighter around her neck–Woah, woah, woah.

I fiddle with some advanced speciation machinery for a few hours and then come back to this?

...yeah, you can’t get into Terezi’s sex life without a bit of choking and breathplay I guess.

You people are here for logic. Systems. Weird plot shit. Lore. Not this.

Hm.

I have mixed feelings about this possibly-sarcastic point of view of his. And that’s coming from someone who was fuck deep in those systems and frustrated as hell that Andrew worked them out but never explained them or made their (at least I believe) hidden importance clear.

Quit out of your browser, slam the laptop closed and punt it into the ocean. That shark is probably hungry after all the jumping.

You won’t, though. If you were going to quit you would have quit before this. We’re in this for the long haul, you and I. We’ll all go down together. Welcome to ‘Nam.

...yeah. :C

I'll just get a head start on my species, then. It's only the fate of a new planet on which the weight of saving the universe lies.

Did Dirk never get the memo that Calliope and fucking Caliborn were born on Earth C millions of years hence???

Your universe’s “relevance” is safe, my dude. You’re just making excuses to rule the narrative.

And... that’s it! For this update, anyway.

Let’s cut over to the commentary for the last one, which I expect will be touching on and lampshading just how much of an amoral dick move Rose and Dirk are making with the entire live-draft species creation process.

Sketches and Commentary: Chapter 4, The Contest

Oh, two members of the writing team are discussing this one.

Plenty of appreciation of the art of the alien planet, apparently art-ed by Gina.

--Yes, I agree, Terezi probably wouldn’t be the best at parallel parking.

Oh right, I should skip most of the fluff y’all would see if you paid and get just any plot important discussion, let’s skip past some ogling of Rose’s pretty well-designed robo-form and its first onscreen appearance...

(Xam’s designs are GREAT all around.)

A1: The imagery is, admittedly, a little heavy-handed. Terezi leaving the cave for the light, the other two remaining in the darkness to talk endless circles around each other.

Heh.

...There are some seriously good jokes here.

--OH! I finally get to figure out why Dirk’s hand was glowing all weird when he slammed the “map”: ......nope, they just talk about how big his yaoi hand is.

A1: I guess this means we’ve sort of canonized Dirk’s Texas accent? a2: yeah, but i think this was a foregone conclusion. the dude lived in post-apocalyptic texas, and he's ABSOLUTELY the sort of person to adopt a long-dead accent for no reason other than historical accuracy.

That’s fair. (Yes, I included that for plot relevance. Totally. ...I really need to be a lighter touch with how much I include of these things that isn’t helpful to actually understand what the fuck is going on with the actual plot/characterization, here, this was real borderline.)

i think we could stand to talk more about the writing at this point.

JESUS CHRIST THANK YOU

we sort of go in drunken circles of Dirk and Rose trying to out-bullshit each other and convince themselves they’re doing the right thing.

--which was obvious to everyone, but. Still appreciated to see it spelled out. Seeing our points of view validated like this helps us stay sane through the bullshit, a golden promise of eventual reprieve and vindication.

a2: we tried something a little different for the writing process of this update, which is that for large sections of the dialog we just rp'd the characters a2: andrew copied large sections of early homestuck from personal chatlogs with friends, and i always thought that lent it a special kind of humor and rapport that can be hard to capture by yourself. i think this approach worked pretty well for us.

It REALLY is an effective way to write dialogue for these sorts characters in particular! Heck, I’m kind of helping someone else do exactly that. It’s pretty fun! There are chapters and chapters out by my understanding, having diverged from such a focus on the central character I’m playing but using our logs as a guide... none of which I’m allowed to read, not even the FIRST chapter, so as not to spoil me with the surrounding narration and added revelations.

...What?

You expected me to tell you what it is? Where to find it?

No. :)

(Maybe later.)

A1: Moving right along. We see more of Dirk’s casual manipulation of Rose’s mental state, that he rationalizes away. It’s not actually that bad if she was going to agree anyway, right?

Mhmm. Hard to watch.

a2: [...] but it's a large part of what this chapter is about. a2: what is the right thing to do when you're functionally omniscient? a2: or omni...whatever these kids are. A1: Yeah, the question of whether morality actually has anything to do with running a system like this. Can god be moral? a2: and of course, that's kind of the same question that i ask myself a lot when writing. authorship is a peculiar thing.

That last part is pretty key about the story this entire thing is trying to tell. A story about the morality of how one goes about creating a story. A just story. And if what’s created even has value.

a2: i was responsible for the animation on the sprite panels, which was fun. it's obviously imitating andrew an awful lot, but i think that lends it an aura of homestucky authenticity. andrew is low-key really good at animation.

Yeah, he really, really is. His keyframing and the devices he used to communicate what was physically happening were really tight. I always appreciated that.

a2: aaaaand one last gina panel to finish with. rose may have had her doubts about this contest at first, but as soon as dirk made a little creature with tentacles she's like, fuck it, this is all i've ever wanted actually.

A bit sparse on the detail I was looking for once shit started to get horrific, the implications and such... but I can understand that.

Maybe when we get to the second and third place draft aliens, we’ll actually see a hint of a moral crisis in them. At least a tiny one.

Arrite, that’s it. See y’all next time. I’ll wait to blog the commentary on the past bonus chapter whenever the next bonus chapter is up for blogging.

#Homestuck #hs2 #Homestuck Liveblog #upd8 #bladekindeyewear #blastyoboots #spoiler #spoilers #Homestuck Commentary

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jabbers-wild-world · 5 years ago

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;; All right, everybody! It’s about time I made an actual, formatted announcement about this, so buckle up, folks! I’ve got something new and exciting to share with all of you! But, I’m not going to start with that. I am also going to toss a couple of oldies but goodies your way, because I can’t make all these fancy graphics for one, short, two-sentence post, can I. No, that’s just not me. I’ve gotta ramble like an idiot and show of my junk! So, let’s dive in!

So I know some of you may already know about this, but some of you might not, and so I do feel like I should bring some good attention to a sideblog I’ve had around here for a while, that seems like it goes largely unnoticed.

Jabber’s Written World

This blog was largely created as a helpful little writing advice blog, for those who maybe needed it. It contains inspirational quotes, writing tips, writing prompts, and the occasional helpful references.

However, it will soon be expanding to include my own personal writings as well. Character studies, summaries, character ‘cast’ lists which include some description, and the occasional novel excerpt or even a short story or two.

Honestly, this expansion has already begun, and I hope you will join me on this blog as we journey forward and work together to become the best writers we can be.

Banner art originally made by itsjustbeek

Another one I’m sure some of you know about and some of you might not. Just like I have my writing sideblog though, I have another sideblog that seems like maybe it’s getting a bit overlooked too, even though I’ve had it for a while.

Jabber’s Artsy Hoard

This blog was made for, you guessed it, a place to keep my art, and maybe to hold onto some references that seemed pretty useful. And it’s been used largely for just that so far, with maybe a few exceptions here and there.

In addition to posting my own original art, and the occasional reblogging of art references, this blog also contains the art that I enjoy and think my followers might want to see too. Art that otherwise doesn’t fit to be reblogged on my main blog.

As well, I have been planning to expand this blog to also reblog commissions I’ve bought for my characters, or just some wonderful art that friends of mine have made me. So come on and join me deep in this treasure chest of art.

Banner art originally made by itsjustbeek

And now, without further ado, I have a very extra special treat for you guys. Something that is absolutely brand new to me, and I’m very excited to share with all of you. This hasn’t been overlooked, or missed, or anything of the sort. You guys have never known anything of this on my blog before, and so! I present to you my latest and greatest hoard of all!

Jabber now has a Patreon!

Four tiers packed with content!

More stuff the higher you go!

My undying love and appreciation!

Exclusive content that won’t ever be posted here!

So go on! Check it out! And if you decide to become a Patron, well then, I look forward to having you join me!

#;; out of dreams (ooc)

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jennawynn · 5 years ago

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The other day, someone in our group chat asked, if you could do anything- job or school- and you wouldn't have to worry about how much it costs or paying bills or anything like that- all the financial stuff is taken care of, what would you do?

Answers ranged from fancy art schools to underwater archaeology, but mine was so... attainable that it really kicked my motivation back into gear. I want to write. I'd love to write a novel (and I’m still working on the ones I’ve started), but I feel like my real joy would be in writing games. Video games or tabletop, either work. I want to write things that invite the readers to help create with me. I want to write worlds and stories that can be interacted with and developed and lived in. I'd forgotten it along the way, but it's been a goal of mine ever since WotC had that settings contest that Keith Baker and Eberron won.

But honestly, what's stopping me? (Besides all that financial stuff, anyway.) I've been writing and developing my own homebrew world for two years now, the setting that my home game plays in and the setting of the novel I've been... slowly writing for longer. I go months without doing real work on it because I get distracted by life, DnD, and video games.

I am down to one part-time job doing content conversion with Roll20 which means I look at and read and convert tabletop games all day. I'm still looking for more income, still searching for a "real" job with benefits, but in the meantime, why not give this a real go?

I've been planning to develop the dungeon my players are running right now in Queertical Role for eventual publishing. But what if it's more than that? What if I documented my journey through deconstructing and studying games and the hours of reading books and blogs and watching videos about DMing and writing your own adventures and encounters and characters and monsters? What if I didn't just publish full dungeons or adventures, but everything from individual monsters/characters to encounters to locations to magic items to settings?

And what if I gave myself deadlines so I made sure that I make time to read and watch and study and write? After all, failing to carve out time to do these things is part of the reason I get so distracted and forget that I'm supposed to be writing until the day before the game when I'm throwing together enough of a plan that I can improv my way through the session.

I've had a Patreon for what seems like ages, but never really knew what I wanted to do with it... but I think I'm getting there. I'll have to do my research as well as asking those of you who read this far your opinions on what kind of tiers you'd want and what kind of benefits you'd look for....

...but this is a pretty good first step.

So if you’re interested, head over to https://www.patreon.com/jennawynn and give it a look.

#TTRPG #DnD #patreon

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ooblets · 7 years ago

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Welcome to the highly-anticipated March Devlog. And what a wonderful March we're having! It's the beginning of spring here, there's no international trade war, and we're all having a great time doing typical March things.

Okay okay so we're a little late getting this devlog out but we've been told that's just how indie games go 🤷

Without wasting any more time, let's jump right in to all the fun stuff we've been up to:

New characters

We've made a lot of character designs throughout development— over 40 so far. Here are just a few:

Most of these were designed with the main concern being speed of implementation. Over time, we've thought a bit more about what resonates with people and decided to take another pass at our core neighborhood cast to be more visually identifiable, unique, and interesting.

Making characters takes a long time, so we've only made a couple new ones so far, but lemme introduce them:

Rugnolia

She's 1 part scientist to 1 part hipster, and can be found experimenting on things you probably haven't even heard about over in the Lernery. She's too cool for school because she was advance-placed right out of it.

Gimble

Gimble is Badgetown's balloon pilot, which is much rougher work than it sounds. She's been through her share of scrapes but is always ready for the next ill-fated adventure. That ear-horn is so she can hear you ring the balloon bell from anywhere in Oob and come pick you up.

Tinstle

Tinstle is not only the most popular and well-liked girl in Badgetown, she's also the mayor. You can tell from her little hat and sash. She's all about helping people reach their potential and become good tax-paying citizens.

Urpa

Okay, this one isn't all that visually distinguished but she's got a springbean in her hair so that's something. Urpa runs the café and we'll try to add some more character to her later. Check back with us.

If you're wondering who the green-haired hippie from the GIF at the top is, so are we... We haven't sorted out a character for that model yet.

Player level unlock tree

Besides building up your farm, house, ooblet team, and item collections, we wanted to add some personal development to all these progressions.

We decided to create a player level system where you meet different requirements to level up and then use your level points to unlock bonuses like faster crafting speed or more followbaby spots.

We'll probably make either the levels or the bonuses take the form of badges since we've not really implemented many badges in the game and need to live up to Badgetown's name.

Grumboire plant and ooblet panels

In the last devlog, we introduced the concept of the grumboire. We can now show you what it looks like:

So fancy!

And we can introduce a few of its features that have been implemented so far, like ooblet and plant panels:

Consider them introduced.

There's not much to say, but each ooblet or plant you grow will show up in your grumboire in these panels so you can keep track of what you've discovered so far.

Wild harvestables

Scavenging for items and clearing out weeds from town has been totally revamped. Throughout Badgetown and other regions, there will be set "grow points" where things can spring up. Each grow point has a list of potential items and will pick from them randomly when it's empty.

Direct sales system

While a lot of farming games tend to use a box at your farm to sell things to, we decided to go with selling things in the seed shop. To buy things you just interact with the physical items in the shop, but if you want to sell stuff from your inventory you interact with the cash register.

It's going to be limited to specific items that would reasonably fit the theme of a seed shop (mainly crops and craftables) so we may expand the system to the other types of shops for other things. I'm hoping we'll have enough time to make the player shop functional and fun enough to take on a lot of the sales gameplay, but we honestly haven't touched all that in a while.

Flags!

I've snuck glimpses of Rebecca surreptitiously experimenting with different wavy flag techniques for months. It's clearly some sort of passion project; her white whale. But just the other day she comes up to me pleased as punch to announce she's now a flag expert and has figured out how to make the perfect low-resource-using flags by modulating frequencies and amplitudes and it involves sine waves or something— I wasn't really paying attention.

Regardless, this was a big step forward in Ooblets flag technology and it's bound to revolutionize Badgetown.

The cupcake graphic on the flag represents the Frunbuns ooblet club and was drawn by our lovely pal Bree Lundberg! Here's the set:

In case you need help, the order is: Mimpins, Peaksnubs, Mossprouts, and Frunbuns.

Stuff for patrons

You may know that we have a little Patreon where we post more behind the scenes stuff and other oobletty goodness. Over the past month we shared:

A set of phone wallpapers

Ooblet concept designs by Miski

Results of our first newsletter

How we recolor assets with lazy unwrapping

Plus:

A sneak peek at our sales UI

How we felt about missing GDC

A bunch of cat GIFs, pictures, and videos for people in the Cat Weirdo tier

If you'd like to see more of this kind of thing, you should become a patron now!

Instagram

Clicky here to get to her profile!

Rebecca has started using Instagram again and this time I'm intent on getting her to post to it more, so you should go follow her to justify my nagging.

Emojis for Discord

We asked our friend Mark Usmiani to design some new emojis for our surprisingly vibrant Discord server. You should join up now if you haven't already and then you can try to obnoxiously fit these babies into all your conversations.

That's it!

As always, make sure you're following along with all the Ooblets stuff on Twitter, Facebook, and our new mailing list so you never miss anything. We're looking forward to sharing more with you as we continue our journey through making Ooblets, so I hope you stick with us!

Ben & Rebecca

#ooblets #indiedev #gamedev

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docholligay · 8 years ago

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News Of The Day

So I told you the Patreon was off for March (and it is. It’s automatically set to go on hiatus, and Patreon assures me you will not be charged, and, if it is, I will call and have it all refunded.) This is because, in this year of me and Jill preparing to settle down and have a baby, I am going to Europe. I’ll be gone between March 6th and March 31st.

Doc, that sounds like the worst possible way of settling down. Let me explain. No, there is too much, let me sum up.

When I was a girl, going to Europe was my dream, and it was a dream that was like going to the moon--I come from a relatively poor background on both sides, particularly when I was young. No one in my family had been to the east fucking coast when I was a girl, I saw the ocean for the first time when I was 18 and only because I made it happen. But Europe, you see, was never going to happen, no matter how many avenues I tried, I was still a girl from the middle of nowhere who, regrettably had never been born into wealth.

I was talking to my boss about how it was something I’d always wanted to do before I had a baby, and I was sad that it was pretty clear that wasn’t going to work out. Jill had wanted to send me, but we just couldn’t make it work. It was a thing she really longed to do for me before we had a baby, but the truck broke, and we need a new water heater--the banal things of life. It was disappointing, but it was a dream I was going to let die.

My boss is a complex man, a rich white dude who nonetheless has a sense of compassion and generosity that occasionally strikes like lightning. So he gave me the money for plane tickets, train tickets, and a month off (unpaid). If you’re going to go once in your life, he said, try to make it count. SO I AM. I was originally going to go by myself, as I don’t have much trouble doing that, and actually enjoy a certain amount of solitude. I live in my head a lot. But ever since my Mom divorced my Dad she’s had a pile of money and weeks of vacation sitting there doing nothing, so I invited her to come along, and I thought she was going to cry with excitement.

The Patreon has been an amazing help, and is going to cover my bills while I’m gone. But since it’ll be off that month, and for some of you who have always wanted to toss a couple bucks my way, but don’t want the month to month thing, I decided to set something up specifically for this trip. I want to add that I don’t expect anything--y’all have done enough for me, frankly. And I’ll still be able to borrow money from Mom to make it work, so you’re not ruining my life. Basically, I’m just asking you to help me out with a lifelong dream I’m getting out of the way.

But there’s rewards! SHINY, FANTASTIC REWARDS. I’m not just asking for money, I want to do stuff for it. And when I say any character, I mean it. (Though, if I’m totally unfamiliar with even the property, you’re taking your life into your own hands) Want a postcard from Bill Cipher? PRETTY SURE I COULD KILL IT, ACTUALLY. A letter from Bastion? The most soulful beep and boops you’ll ever read. Usagi goes to the Paris Catacombs? DONE, WITH LOVE AND TENDERNESS.

So here’s the breakdown:

Any level: a photo post thanking you personally with a picture of me doing the thing!

Tier One: a postcard of the country, from either me or your favorite character! Mailed from Europe.

Tier Two: a two page ficlet of your fav character experiencing whatever you got me, or a two page letter from me about it. Mailed from Europe. Example of how I write about food here.

Tier Three: I buy you a small souvenir from said locale, and wrap it up with a letter from your favorite character or me. Mailed upon my return, I can’t figure out the post offices THAT well.

Tier Four: don’t do this, but if you want to, convo me first and we’ll work something out.

How to do this, if you want to:

Message me with what you want to sponsor and your email address. I’ll send you a request via paypal! And let me know which character(s) you’d like your letter/postcard from!

Again, I have no expectation of anyone doing this, so no worries. I thank you anyhow! You’re all amazing. This is a dream I never thought I would fulfill, and all of you have had no small part in making it a reality. I wish I could tell you how much it means to me, and I look forward to all the new shades of adventure we’ll have together.

THERE’S A LOT OF FOOD. I TRUST YOU ARE FAMILIAR WITH ME.

Things that don’t cost anything are, obviously, not on here, so if you’d rather have a photo shot of say, Saint Chappele, and you get me a glass of wine, we can totally work that out.

London, England

Tier One

A pint in a pub! [$5, two available] I feel like this needs no description, and yet. Mom and I are actually making an informal tour of East End pubs for Very Important Research Purposes. Lena wants you to buy me a drink.

Fish and chips on the street [$12] Fish and chips is one of those things that’s iconic, and it may be terrible (lol just kidding fried food is amazing) but I feel honorbound to finally have a proper try at it.

Bubble and Squeak and other Breakfast Atrocities [$15] Occasionally, I plan something just for the secret knowledge. I need to know what the hell bubble and squeak tastes like. You need me to know what the hell bubble and squeak tastes like. So I found a traditional British place to show me!

Highgate Cemetary Tour [$15] There’s something that seems right about me wandering around in a park dedicated to the most beautiful ways of representing the mortality of humankind, do you think?

Oysters and Bubbly [$15] Ever since I read Tipping the Velvet, I feel like this is a quintessentially British thing, and I love the sea saltiness of oysters and the prickle of bubbly.

Tour of Winston Churchill’s War Rooms [$20] Help me get tips for the underground bunker I’m going to need to build when the gays declare war!

Tier Two

Tower of London and Crown Jewels [$30] All my favorite things! Murder, torture, imperialism, and tacky jewelry.

Afternoon Tea at the Ritz [$50] This is an exceedingly fancy little adventure, with delicate teacakes and a goddamn harpist, and I’ve always wanted to do it. I will FINALLY get to wear my special occasion dress.

Paris, France

Tier One

Glass of wine in a cafe [$7, five available] Again--when in Paris, drink like Parisians do. I would say Amelie wants you to buy me a drink, but I think we all know that’s a bold lie

A trip to the boulangerie next to our place [$12] I am well aware than in Paris, you can throw a rock and hit a bakery, but I’m still charmed by the idea that we have one so close.

Tour of the Paris Catacombs [$20] It’s a tunnel full of beautiful death. I belong here.

Fancy French chocolates [$20] There’s so many fine French chocolatiers, and we found a few near our place! This will get us a couple fancy chocolates to eat by the Seine

Lunch at a bistro with wine [$25, two available] There’s almost an overwhelming amount of food that looks good in Paris, and I am taking suggestions, but we found this little place that basically looks like cave that serves wine, and I’m all into it.

Tier Two

Lunch at Disneyland Paris at BILLY BOB’S WILD WEST BUFFET [$34] There is no way you don’t want me to share with the class French Disneyland’s understanding of the American West.

Dinner at a slightly nicer place, but also with wine [$40]

Tier Three

Day at Disneyland Paris [$70] One of my life goals, however shallow, vain, and foolish, is to go to every Disneyland/world before I die. This will make it two down and two to go and I think we all want to see my girlish excitement.

Tier Four

Cooking Class in Paris [$95] A cooking class with a professional chef! ANd we get to go to the market and selct stuff and make a four course meal and I have never taken a cooking class in my life so I am thrilled.

Zurich, Switzerland

Tier Two

A TRIP TO THE BIERGARTEN DOWN THE STREET WHERE NEITHER OF US HAVE ANY CLUE OF THE LANGUAGE BUT BY GOD I HAVE A PHRASEBOOK [$40] (beer and food both)

Munich, Germany

Tier One

Tour of BMW factory [$9] YEAH ME AT THE BMW FACTORY. I am completely overwhelmingly excited for this, and you want to hear about it.

Drink at a swanky rooftop bar [$16] Yeah this is A COCKTAIL, but we’re mainly going there to be Kaiohs for a moment in time, so I promise to savor it. Any excuse to wear my fancy dress!

Traditional Bavarian Food with a traditional Bavarian [$20] I confess I have no idea if I can even eat traditional Bavarian food, but by god I know the German word for pork and I have no fear.

Trip to Neuschwanstein Castle [$22] This also includes the little castle next to it! IF YOU THINK I’M NOT GOING TO MAKE AN EICHENWALDE JOKE, STOP YOURSELF RIGHT THERE.

Tier Two

Dinner at Hofbrauhaus: Sauerbraten of Alpine Oc, Dampfnudel, and a beer yes I already know what I’m ordering shut up [$31] Remember when I was liveblogging Bake Off and I said “Wtf is a dampfnudel? THEY HAVE THEM HERE. I WILL FINALLY KNOW.

Zagreb, Croatia

Tier One

Swanky cocktail at Hotel Esplanade [$12]

Drinks at THE HOBBIT PUB [$14] Oath assures there are many magical Croatian liquors that I have never tried, some of which may have me believing that I am, in fact, Gandalf by the end of the night.

Tier Two

Room service for swanky Sailor Moon Night [$30] There’s two here in case someone wants to buy food for Oath, too. or there were, but Jet’s bought Oath’s and told em to get my fucking own.

Dinner at Traditional Croatian restaurant [$33] I admit to having pretty limited knowledge of what Croatian food actually is, and assuming Oath isn’t just playing a massive trick on me and we’re actually performing some sort of fear factor for her amusement, we’re going to find out!

Wine Pairings for the fine dinner! [$55] The wines are specifically selected by a sommelier for each course, I’ve never had anything so fine and I can’t wait for the shade it brings to each course.

Tier three

12 course plated dinner in a fine restaurant [$77] You may have noticed a theme of doing Shit I Can’t Afford In America. Y’all, I am so excited for this, it’s the kind of meal one might find at the 400 dollar level or higher in the states. I have never, ever been able to afford something like this, and I am so excited.

Tier Four

Rental of a box at the Croatian National Theatre for Swan Lake [$100] Getting dressed all tony for our private box! Please believe that I am trying to get some tiny opera glasses, to complete the effect.

Night in a 5 star suite for Swanky Sailor Moon Night [$220] Oath and I, in a fancy hotel suite, Kaiohing it up and watching Sailor Moon over various Croatian liquors. THERE’S WIFI IN THE HOTEL YOU KNOW YOU’LL BE MISSING MY DRUNKEN POSTS BY THEN.

Tallin, Estonia

Tier One

SOUP BUFFET [$5] I love soup like I love few things on earth, and in Estonia it is apparently a THING, and we’re going to a great soup buffet for lunch

Soup and Pie at a restaurant owned by an adorable Russian couple [$6] My friend recommended this place to me specifically, because she knows any place I can get pie and soup is a place I love.

Drink a Western bar called “Tombstone” [$5] I MEAN COME ON

Tier Two

Trip to a whiskey and cigar bar [$16] A glass of whiskey and cigar is something I am going to be missing HARD by this point, I assure you

Tier Three

Dinner at Medieval merchant restaurant [$72] I’M GONNA EAT BEAR. This restaurant is the intersection of history and food, which you may note as one of my favorite things, and the meal we’re getting has a COUPLE kinds of game I’ve never experienced before.

I am also taking suggestions! And remember, I have meetups planned in London, Munich, and Paris! So let me know if you’d like to come.

Again, thank you so much for even bothering to read all this! I love you all!!

#holligay annoys the entire european continent

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rapmusicisrubbish · 7 years ago

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Patreon Bum Of The Month

Recognize her? If you’re not a wrestling fan, you’re thinking: Nope. If you are a wrestling fan you’re thinking: Nope. This is Allysin Kay, better known as Sienna on Impact Wrestling. She dazzles fans every night in front of a nationwide audience on television...so why the hell does she need a Paytreon? I’ll be damned if I know.

The Pitch

Welcome, my fellow savages! If you've made it this far, I assume you're here with a purpose, but for those who may be browsing: My name is Allysin Kay. I've been a pro wrestler for the past 9 years, and I currently wrestle for Impact Wrestling on Pop TV as Sienna. I want to provide something a little different than your typical fan interactions. Something a little more personal. Something reoccurring... Patreon is making this possible. This is a subscription service in exchange for recurring merchandise and exclusive content. Every contribution, big or small, is GREATLY APPRECIATED, but there is no obligation to do so. This is here for my ride or dies, my A1's since Day 1, my biggest supporters who want to help me build a foundation for something bigger. As the pledge amount increases, so do the perks! The more extra support I have coming in, the more time I can dedicate to keeping in touch with you, my awesomely Classy As F*#% fans, the more I can focus on sharpening my tools for my true love (Pro Wrestling) and my mistress, (MMA) and the more elaborate and outrageous my performances can be. I already appreciate your support simply through following me on social media, coming to shows, making signs, buying merch, putting your pinkies up... ;) But if you do want something more individualized, something more personal, or even just want to contribute in general, this is for you! I'm pretty active on social media, but those who have followed me for some time know that I'm a fairly private person. Becoming a patron will give you a glimpse into my "real" life, plus TONS of exclusive material that I won't be making public. Stay classy my friends, AK

Are you still awake? No? Yes? Well if you pay her a monthly fee you’ll get...merchandise and...exclusive content. From a wrestler. Apparently, she’ll use the money for keeping in touch with her fans and training in Pro Wrestling and MMA. Strangely enough, this doesn’t seem like something a pro wrestler would say. “Hay fans! Triple H here! I wrestle on T.V. every week and get paid, like, at least $50,000 per wrestling show! I want you to pay for my training expenses and in return I’ll follow you on Twitter!” Yep. A wrestler who performs in a major promotion that is seen on TELEVISION and the over inflated sense of entitlement is still there. Hell, if it weren’t, there would be about 13 Patreon accounts worldwide.

Being a well-known wrestler, she could never get away with the usual e-beggar clap-trap of “I have PTSD, ADD, ADHD, Neruo-psychological disorder and I’m black!” so instead we get the usual pro wrestler clap-trap of “Hey y’all my dawgz! My A-1 since day 1′s! My Ryde or Dyez!!” Neither is more silly and manipulative than the other; it’s just that the latter is more tolerable since it’s coming from a person who regularly uses her head as a crowbar on a nightly basis. What I’m trying to say is that her pitch is stupid...just like her Paytreon.

The Tier “Rewards”

As usual, when a T.V. celebrity of Sienna’s caliber comes up with the idea to ask fans to supplement their income, things get tragic real fast. In Sienna’s case, this tragedy is compounded even more by how she is able to get away with what has to be the most egregious example of minimum effort, maximum profit.

Level 1 - Private FB Group & Wallpapers $1 or more per month

YOU ARE OFFICIALLY A PATRON!! And on my list of humans to spare.

A dollar may not seem like a lot, but it goes a long way, and truly means so much to me that you would even want to show me support.

To say THANK YOU for joining me on this crazy journey, you will receive a link to my private, patron-only Facebook group - AK's Studio 47!

In addition, you will also receive an exclusive downloadable wallpaper of yours truly EVERY MONTH!

Last but certainly not least, you now have access to my Patron-Only content feed! (My calendar, updates, polls, rewards offered for patron-related goals, etc.) And of course, my undying love and gratitude. <3

“It’s only a dollar”, I hear people say. I call B.S. on that one. You’re asking people to give you a dollar each month and in return they get access to your Private Facebook Group? I’ve been a part of these groups and I’ve had more fun getting jumped in an alley. Not only are these groups NEVER run by the celebrity in question, but the celeb never even seems to notice that they exist despite giving their endorsement to make it “official”. In Sienna’s case, I’m sure she could take time out of her busy schedule to drop in every...what...two to three weeks or so. Every dollar counts!

Level 2 - The Coveted Follow Back! $5 or more per month

If you don't have the time or enough shits to give about a blog, (next tier) and are just looking for a follow back on Twitter and Instagram, this is the option for you!

• I will follow you back for as long as you are a patron!

• PLUS you get everything from the previous tier!

• Be sure to have your handles in your Patreon profile

For 5 bucks or more, she’ll follow you on Twitter or Instagram. She won’t interact with you, won’t like your comments on her pics, won’t like anything you post or tweet and she damn sure isn’t gonna re-tweet anything you tweet so what’s the point? So you can tell people you’re being followed by Sienna! You know, the wrestler! No, that’s Nia Jax! Sienna dude! No, that’s Sasha Banks! She’s on Impact wrestling! You know the wrestling show! Jeff Jarrett used to be on there. You know, Jeff Jarrett! The wrestler...

Putting this into perspective, I’m following 7 pro female boxers and 4 female MMA fighters. They post regularly, often answer questions their fans have and will give a like or shout out if your comment strikes their fancy. I paid NOTHING to follow these REAL world champions and have made small talk with most of them. Compare that to just having this world champion pro wrestler follow you in complete silence because your 8 dollar monthly contribution wasn’t high enough to garner her attention. Bonus: After you regain your senses and withdraw your Paytreon support, she’ll most likely forget to unfollow you. Neither of you will notice, though.

Level 3 - The Motown Lowdown$10 or more per month

• Raw & unfiltered, get a glimpse inside my mind and into my personal life through my private blog.

• This tier will also give you first dibs on exclusive content such as non-wrestling photoshoots, Vlogs, & other exciting news before I post to social media!

• PLUS everything from the previous two tiers!

**Disclaimer: I like F Bombs. :)

Give her 10 bucks and she’ll let you into her private blog where you’ll get access to the same boring pictures that will end up on her Instagram and Twitter for free 2 days later. I’m sure you’ll become a fan of F-Bombs once you realize you just tossed 10 bucks into this singularity.

Level 4 - Sienna SNAPPED $15 or more per month

• All the benefits from the previous tiers, PLUS: • Access to my personal Snapchat!!

• This is the ONLY Snap I post to anymore!

• You will receive exclusive, REAL TIME content before I post anywhere else!

• Selfies, gym pics, photoshoots, adventures on the road, behind the scenes pictures/videos, and SOOO many more shenanigans. The majority of which I will NEVER be making public!

Explain to me what you mean by “This is the ONLY Snap I post to anymore!”. Do you have multiple Snapchat accounts? A doppelganger? What the heck does that mean? Oh, nothing. It’s just a marketing ploy to con some dork out of 15 bucks. Brilliant. As far as content goes, I just don’t see anything here of value. Other wrestlers post the same things all the time on social media so I’m not getting why you’re so intent on hiding behind the scenes pictures behind a paywall, Sienna. As usual, you can either pay 15 bucks a month for this exclusive content or follow her for free on Twitter or Instagram and wait a couple of days for some of the pics and not ever know about or even miss the pics she doesn’t post.

Level 5 - AKTV $25 or more per month

• This tier will get you a personalized 30-second video message EVERY MONTH!

• These can be general or specific - Want a birthday shout out? Want to learn how to be a savage? Want me to roast your friend? This is the tier for you!

• Don't forget - you ALSO get everything from the lower tiers!

Just what I’ve always wanted. A female wrestler, who isn’t Act Yasukawa, mispronouncing my name in a 30 second video. Not a waste of 25 bucks. Not at all. Seriously, this is probably the best tier. That’s not saying much, however. Like saying it’s better to get punched in the eye than punched in the nose.

Level 6 - Q & A (K47) $29 or more per month

• I will be reaching out to you EVERY month to compile your questions & answer them in a video available ONLY to subscribers at this tier and above!

• I will also occasionally have special guests during my Q&A - I will give you a heads up when I can - The possibilities are endless. >:)

For an oddly specific 29 bucks a month she does a Q & A. Why would I care? Why would her fans care? What can you ask a world champion pro wrestler like Sienna? “Is wrestling fake?” or “Can you sign my undershorts?” or even “Why the fuck did you need a Patreon account? Is Impact Wrestling bouncing its checks to you again?”

Level 7(b) - Pinkies Up for ALL Merch! (National) $59 or more per month

• If you live within the continental U.S. & want access to ALL my merchandise, this is the option for you!

• You will receive 1 item each month just like the last tier, except now you will have some #ClassyAF tshirts to add to your collect as well!

• I will also be periodically checking in to let my patrons weigh in on new designs!

She has three freaking tier goals for her merchandise and each go from 39 to 79 doallars a month. So you can get one free item of merchandise per month. 79 dollars for a T-SHIRT. I don’t care how much you like Sienna. This makes John Gotti look like a petty thief. She also will let patrons weigh in on new designs. Want to know what that means? Nothing. She’s not going to let a group of easily swayed simpletons choose the designs for her merchandise that ships all over the world! Are you crazy? No, she’ll pick the design herself and claim that “one of my patrons chose this design” without naming who it was. I hate Paytreon.

Level 8 - Bigger, Faster, Stronger $99 or more per month

Emphasis on "BIGGER" - This level will get you ALL of the previous rewards, PLUS a GIANT AUTOGRAPHED POSTER of yours truly!

I don't have posters available otherwise, so this one is exclusive to Patreon! <3

Give her 99 dollars for a poster. A goddamned poster. A poster that she will have to commission since nobody knows who the hell she is and won’t do posters of her for that reason.

LEVEL 9 - Classy As F*#%! $199 or more per month

You're either crazy or crazy in love, but I LIKE CRAZY! You, my friend, now have top-tier status! You are officially #ClassyAF!!

You get ALL the benefits from ALL EIGHT previous tiers, PLUS:

•A monthly Skype chat with yours truly!!

•If you subscribe at this tier for 3 months, you will receive your choice of either one custom photo shoot or one misc. event-worn item.

Disclaimer: I don't do nudity. Both options are up to my discretion. Thank you for respecting my decision! It is called the Classy As F*#% tier, after all. ;)

She’ll talk to you once a month on Skype for $199. Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but why is a skype call so important to a wrestling fan that they would pay 200 bucks to speak to Sienna of GFW Impact Wrestling? Of course, the restriction on nudity is there because...Paytreon won’t let her show her ass in a private video. And she thanks us for respecting HER decision. Her decision? Doubtful. From what I’ve seen on this Paytreon page, I can say with 100% certainty that she would have very little qualms with getting nude if she could raise that Paytreon dollar. Paytreon beggars are born with an inability to feel shame.

Final Thoughts

Her “Goals” tier lists a number of patrons rather than an actual dollar amount which is notable in that she seems to be trying to build a fanbase rather than raise a specific amount of money. There’s only two goals as well, 20 patrons and 100 patrons. She has released another “exclusive video” at the 20 patron mark and I can’t imagine it’s worth a damn. She claims that at 100 patrons she’ll release a video of her very first wrestling match but by this point, I doubt anyone cares, not even her.

This Paytreon is among the worst I’ve ever seen. All it needs to complete its slide into the pits of hell would be a tier where she generously kills your mom in exchange for your car. The tier “rewards” seem like they were tossed into “Patreon Tier Reward Generator v4.4″ and, after nearly laughing itself into shutdown, spit out this nonsensical array of by the numbers garbage. On my scale of -10 to 10 this one gets a -10 without question. Celebrities should not be using Paytreon to supplement their income. It looks ridiculous and desperate. The only good thing about this Paytreon is that there’s only 78 people taken in by this farce.

#bum of the month #beggar #celebrity bum

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