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thanksjro · 4 years ago

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More Than Meets the Eye #18- Rung Psychologically Tortures a Man with Poor Snack Management

So, Swerve’s having a less than stellar day, and for once it isn’t linked to his deep-rooted sense of self-loathing.

Good thing he already emptied those stills, otherwise this would be just the hugest mess.

Thanks to some off-panel Whirl shenanigans that took place prior to this storyline, Swerve had Brainstorm put in a few security measures. Of course, Brainstorm being Brainstorm, never does weaponry in any half-measures.

Still, it isn’t quite enough. Looks like Swerve’s going to have to break out the big guns for this guy.

There’s a lot going on here, so let’s break it down.

On the character side of things, it would appear that Swerve is a merciful god of robot booze, as he’s not yet banned anyone from his small business, even when he probably ought to- Fort Max I get, and Whirl has the whole “is also an Autobot” thing going on, but Cyclonus has actively attempted to murder Swerve in the past, and also is the closest thing to a Decepticon they’ve got on the ship at any given time.

On the weaponry side of things, it would seem that Swerve having blown his face clean off his skull back in issue #12 got back to Brainstorm, who- because he’s married to his career and loves a project- immediately got to work on a gun that Swerve could actually handle with his funky little cartoon-man hands. Of course, that doesn’t mean Swerve’s going to get away with his dignity intact, oh heavens no! This thing has a literal smiley face slapped on the front of it. Well, you know what they say: it’s Nerf or Nothing.

Swerve blasts a hole in the Legislator with his silly, silly gun, and the bar is saved from further destruction.

I like to imagine that Brainstorm recorded that victory line himself, because he wants to support his friends, in his own, bizarre way.

Things are looking rough for the rest of the Lost Light, as the Legislators have completely flooded the ship with their forces, as the crew do their best to fight them off. Blaster’s had his titty compartment blasted open. Huffer is screaming. The medics have taken to violence. Skids has broken out the brass knuckles and is making god-awful math puns. The Legislators are still coming, without any end in sight. It’s a real shitshow.

Over on Luna 1, it would appear that Ratchet immediately passed out after seeing Pharma, which is a fair response to seeing someone who’s supposed to be very much dead, I think. Pharma calls Lockdown, they have a bit of banter, and then the scene moves on to whatever Cyclonus and Whirl are doing.

Because these two are the only ones on the away team who can actually fly, they’ve broken off from the rest. Whirl’s getting antsy, and decides he’s gonna fight something. Cyclonus, though he does mention that Rodimus told them not to do exactly what Whirl is suggesting, seems to agree with this line of thought.

Speaking of Rodimus, him and the rest of the gang are zipping around on those M.A.R.B.s, though it appears as if some of the passengers have switched drivers. Rung’s over with Chromedome now, holding on to him for dear life. Maybe they’re having an impromptu grief counseling session as they run from danger. Tailgate’s with Rodimus, and he’s just pointed out that Ratchet got left behind. Rodimus can’t deal with that right now, though, and decides that they need to get away from all these gotdang Decepticons and then figure out their next step.

Then he’s distracted by the literal lineup of dead Titans just hanging out on the moon.

Luna 1’s kinda fucked up.

Cutting back to our framing device- nope, still haven’t gotten caught up with the present yet- Ambus asks what Rodimus did next. Well, a lot happened. A lot. Chromedome jumped out of his therapy session with Rung and transforms into his alt, which I want to say is the only time he’ll do it in MTMTE. Whirl and Cyclonus are faffing about in the sky, more or less toying with the Decepticons following them. Rodimus wants to pull another Fantastic Voyage, much to Tailgate’s horror.

Rodimus zooms into the first crack he sees, but doesn’t manage to lose his attackers. Tailgate provides commentary, as Rodimus wraps the little guy around his neck like a cape, leaps from the M.A.R.B., and does some super sick gymnastics, hanging from a pipe jutting out of the ceiling as the guys who were chasing them run into… well, I assume each other, but it’s not terribly clear.

Crisis avoided, Rodimus drops down, transforming as he does. Tailgate goes with him, because gravity is still a thing on the moon, and we get a reminder that he’s only got a couple days left to live. Unfortunately, it would appear he’ll be spending his final days rotting in a prison cell, as Lockdown shows up with everyone else in handcuffs, forcing Rodimus to come quietly. Everyone seems very put out by this whole situation, especially Brainstorm. He’s downright furious, probably because he got captured by the guy with a fish butt on his head.

Oh, the indignity of it all!

Then again, maybe he’s just focused on working up the cajones to ask just what the hell is going on on this super weird moon. Lockdown obviously isn’t a bad enough dude to be running this operation- we saw what happened the last time he went against someone who actually had the time to plan something out- so our away team has deduced that there’s someone higher up on the food chain here. Also, there’s the whole issue of money clearly being a major factor in all this.

That sort of tech doesn’t just fall out of the sky.

As they’re being walked down this corridor of tension building, Chromedome spies Ultra Magnus in an adjoining hallway. He calls to him, but is very solidly ignored. But there’s no time to worry about Magnus being a rude shit, because it’s time for character reveals!

There’s an interesting little detail about Tyrest’s character, which is a little hard to see given the layout of the art for this page, but here it is, on the end of his staff:

Now, I know that the Autobot badge was appropriated from a symbol meant to represent Primus, but that was millions of years ago. So much for being a neutral party, huh Tyrest?

Rodimus is real peeved about being chased, shot at, arrested, and held against his will, and fully intends to give Tyrest a piece of his mind. Tyrest isn’t interested, however, telling him to shove a sock in it, or be “held in contempt.” While this is happening, Perceptor and Brainstorm have noticed the positively humongous and positively ancient space bridge that Tyrest just has lying around in this room.

Oh no, this is about the baby field from last issue, isn’t it? Brainstorm’s going to jail for infant arson.

Rodimus greatly dislikes this whole situation, and expresses himself through the art of verbal abuse. Smash cut to them back in the cell, Ambus not seeming terribly impressed with how Rodimus handled himself with Tyrest.

The tale is finished, we know where we were. Now how to move forward?

Chromedome asks for a bit more information on our new friend, because the whole “Ambus” thing is throwing him off, and with good reason: how do you tell your late husband’s ex that you had to blow up your mutual partner to keep him from being eaten by a lippy bastard? But this isn’t the illustrious Dominus Ambus- this is MINIMUS Ambus, the lesser known brother. Chromedome/Dominus isn’t completely taken off the table, however, as Minimus uses some awkward phrases that seems to tell me Dominus isn’t confirmed dead.

Rung wants to know what Minimus’ whole deal is, seeing as he’s also in prison with the lot of them. Minimus explains that he’d been moving a shipment of energon derivatives, when Tyrest had arrested him for having traces of space cocaine in his goods.

Was taking his eye really necessary, Tyrest?

Minimus was placed into custody years ago, and has been awaiting trial this whole time. Not exactly sure why, seeing as this moon isn’t exactly off the chain populated. Maybe Tyrest’s just been busy doing things that are absolutely NOT nefarious in any form or fashion whatsoever.

Minimus mentions that he’s lost his Autobot badge, and Rung offers to let him borrow his own- which we’ve never seen him wear because it’s apparently too big for him- but Minimus would rather he wear it himself.

Tailgate doesn’t take to this bit of information about the appeals system very well, seeing as he’s not got years to wait around. He’s beginning to panic, not trusting Cyclonus and Whirl to break them out, and starts needling the others to do something. Brainstorm reveals that his briefcase, which he’s had this entire time, as he always does, has an attention deflector built into it, making it effectively invisible to Tyrest and his goons. Rung feels a certain kinship with the briefcase in that moment.

Imagine walking up to a widower and saying “Hey there, honeybunches, how about submitting to that crippling addiction your late spouse begged you to quit so we can bust out of prison?”

Of course, Tailgate’s only told Cyclonus about his condition, so no one’s exactly raring to go busting out, since they’ve assumed everyone present is effectively immortal.

Over on another part of the moon, Ratchet’s finally waking up from his stress-induced nap to find Pharma channeling his inner Jigsaw. Ratchet gives him some constructive criticism on his new hands, but Pharma’s kind of over listening to whatever Ratchet thinks.

Oh, I hope it’s one of those gag gifts where you open it and get hit in the face with a pie. Those are always a laugh.

Back on the Lost Light, Swerve is looking for his very best friend in the whole wide world. I really hope the feeling is mutual, because there’s no way Swerve would survive that sort of rejection.

The doors to the oil reservoir open, looking like the elevator scene from The Shining, and we see what’s become of our dear, dear Skidsy.

Skids is pretty sure all this Legislator nonsense is because of him, and he’s not about to let people die for his sorry butt today, no siree. He’s gonna save the day.

Then again, this is about where Star Saber pops into existence behind him and stabs him through the spine, so maybe not.

Behold, a bastard!

Star Saber in the IDW run is well-known as being a witch-hunting zealot who can and will commit acts of violence over any perceived slight against Primus he identifies in any given living creature. This is a stark removal from his original character, who is so pure-hearted, kind, and generous, he literally adopted an orphan to raise as his own son. So, what exactly happened here?

TMUK happened.

Back in the days before Roberts was a professional scriptwriter, back before IDW had the license for Transformers, the members of the TMUK fan group decided that Victory’s Star Saber was going to be evil. Why isn’t exactly clear, only that it was a decision that was made not by Roberts on his lonesome, but more as a collaborative effort. Of course, this Star Saber isn’t a one-to-one copy of the TMUK Star Saber- that guy was much more conniving and, uh, Hitler-y, than what we have here.

Getting back to the story, Swerve tries to save/avenge Skids, firing with his custom gun, only to miss every single shot.

Looks like there’s going to need to be a rework on the My First Blaster.

Swerve gets beaned over the head with the butt of Star Saber’s sword for his troubles, his visor shattering in the process. Damn, sure hope he’s got a reading prescription, and not anything he’ll actually need to see.

Back over on the moon, Ratchet’s pretty uninterested in playing Pharma’s little game. It’s just as well though, because, as it turns out, Pharma’s an impatient guy. Must be an absolute nightmare during the holiday season and birthdays. He throws open the box, revealing what’s inside.

THAT IS NOT PIE.

But we saw Ratchet’s face over on the other side of the room. How can he be in two places at once? Well, here’s the thing about Transformers…

They’re pretty darn hard to kill.

Back in the cell, Rung’s doing his part as a member of the away team by passing out snacks. Tailgate reveals his awful garbage disposal mouth. We get the down-low on Tyrest.

Once upon a time, Tyrest was an engineer. Then the war happened, shit got crazy, and suddenly he was organizing exoduses and peace talks with genocidal maniacs, and got appointed Chief Justice by the space pope himself.

Rodimus comes over to get in on the little snack party Rung and Tailgate are having, mentioning the Aequitas Trials- the very ones that were recorded onto Ironfist’s brain back in Last Stand of the Wreckers. Minimus comes over, warning Rodimus to keep hush-hush about those, since they’re top secret and all. Kind of a weird thing for you to do, Minimus. Hell, why do YOU know about these super secret trials, Mr. Nobody Trader Guy? Those were after Dominus disappeared, so it’s not like you had an in through your cool older brother.

Rodimus gives everyone the skinny on the trials, despite Minimus being weird about the whole thing.

Perceptor knows all this already, but I suppose it’s possible Rodimus is the only son of a gun who isn’t subscribed to Wreckers: Declassified and isn’t aware of Perceptor’s whole deal.

Minimus moves the topic over to the crew of the Lost Light, latching on to Skids specifically the moment he’s mentioned. Rung does his due diligence and offers Minimus a ride on the snack train. Minimus declines, Rung insists, and the box of space pocky is dropped on the floor.

Minimus goes to help Rung pick up the snacks, as Rung actively hinders the clean up effort.

Minimus is two seconds from snapping Rung’s scrawny little wrist like a toothpick if he doesn’t quit it. Luckily Rodimus is there to break up this positively bizarre situation. And then things get really weird.

Rung’s been watching Minimus since they got here, noticing things that were very familiar- speech patterns, mannerisms, tone, inflection, OCD behaviors, things like that. Once he developed enough of a hunch, Rung started intentionally antagonizing him by making a mess and putting his Autobot badge on in a way that isn’t up to standards. Why would he do this? Why would he want to cause an outburst in someone he just met?

Well, the thing is, he hasn’t just met Minimus Ambus. He’s actually been serving under him for the last year.

That’s a rather dark use of your doctorate, Rung, forcing a man to reveal his true identity by poking at his mental health until he was about to snap your neck over some candy. You did it so well, too.

Maybe you were on Kimia for more than just psych evals. What was your career officially called again? Psyops specialist is what they have listed on the Wiki. Truth be told, I don’t even know what that entails. Let’s look it up, shall we?

...I guess therapy is his side gig?

So either Roberts meant something else entirely, or Rung is actually super fucking scary.

#transformers #jro #mtmte #remain in light #issue 18 #maccadam #Hannzreads #text post #long post #overthinking about robots #incoming analysis #comic script writing

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shades4dogs · 4 years ago

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i had a SUPER tiring day i mite talk abut later but RIGHT NOW i wanna talk about the make it sweet! album for Um Jammer Lammy because i listtened to than a couple days ago, and just today i showed it 2 my little brother, and i wanted to write down what i thought about the tracks!!

youtube

i wrote down my personal thoughts on each track and gave it a rating out of 5 Dashies (-= It’s because i’m autistic plain and simple

if you read all of this you’re officially a legend

[1/2) Let’s Jam Together!/KEEP YOUR HEAD UP!!] - waow!!!

I LOVE THIS SONG <3 i really liked this song when i heard it in the credits and was wondering what its name was, it was nice to hear it in the album as the very first track!!

i love the additional dialogue at the start, the “Hey, do you play the guitar? Let’s jam together!” really represents the ragtaginess of the band just kind of throwing themselves together to make music so naturally... like little jigsaw pieces... it makes me want to know exactly how they interacted before the formation of MilkCan, how long they’d known each other/how they had known each other, or if they met right as they made the band.

the playful and funny lyrics of this song are really great, and i like the way it trails off in the middle. like the song was just Katy Kat truly venting off her frustrations and heartbreak about someone she used to like.

i wonder who exactly Katy Kat is talking about here in this song... well anyways she’s got lammy now so all’s well (-=

the second portion’s lyrics sound a little dopey and off-key, but i think it reflects katy’s mood regarding the lyrics of how easy her life used to be, and it all comes together beautifully for the chorus reprise with some pretty strings (i love strings in rock music!)

i bet this kind of music really resonated with some young girls listening. Can’t relate however as I hate men.

overall this is a 5/5 dashies! “Amazing!”

[3) FRIGHT FLIGHT!!] - LOOK UP IN THE SKY.

THIS IS ONE OF MY FAVOURITE SONGS IN THE GAME! when it started obviously i was expecting fussenpepper, and it was shocking to hear katy kat singing it

i think this is one of the covers that katy kat’s voice matches the most! her voice really fits shouting like that, it’s really hyped up

my favourite line from her cover is the “Now it’s time to move on, it only gets much harder, so carry on!”

and obviously i love hearing her say “Now do you like munchies? I wonder where lunch is!”

i do think that captain fussenpepper’s voice suits the song better than her, because it was made with him, but her voice definitely shines on this track!

overall this is a 4/5 dashies! “Really Good!”

[4) BABY BABY!!] - Imagine kids singing this on a car trip with their parents looking dead inside in the front seats.

I USED TO NOT LIKE THIS SONG. but playing it myself really warmed me up on it, and this version on the album made me like it even more!! i love katy kat’s additional lines between the baby’s, she suits giving those secondary vocals and they add a whole additional layer to the song.

i also like that the baby’s lyrics kind of echo over lammy’s guitar parroting, like you can hear the “... ma ma ma ma” coming in at the end of her first part, it sounds really nice!

this is the song i can really imagine kids shouting the lyrics to at a birthday party or something and i think they knew that when they added it O_O

overall this is a 4.5/5 dashies! “Almost Perfect!” i think it would’ve been cooler if the lammy and katy kat parts were more integrated with eachother. don’t ask me how exactly, because i don’t know, and maybe they didn’t either... it still came out REALLY nice!

[5) FIRE FIRE!!] - Aweome where is chief puddle? )-=

i think that this is my favourite song in the entire game, altho that will change depending on what day you ask me it, and a big part of it is fire chief puddle’s vocals and the brass and sound effects of the song

it kind of sucks that a lot of that seems lacking in katy’s version, although i like that it kind of seems like theres more emphasis on the percussions of it!

i don’t like the distant whispery vocals on the “Put it on the fire, feel good, Put it out cold and feel good”, it sounds really weird. because those lyrics are one of my favourites in the original song with chief puddle. i’d definitely rather listen to his version

overall this is a 3/5 dashies! “It’s Good!” i like katy’s vocals, but they definitely come out better on other tracks, and i miss chief puddle.

[6) PJ Berri Jam] - Much Love To The Funny Bear That Make’s Me Smile.

title made me a lot more excited for this song than i ended up feeling about it... OBVIOUSLY NO INSULT TO PJ’S JAM BUT IT WOULD HAVE BEEN COOL TO HAVE A BEAT WITH ORIGINAL LYRICS instead of just lines from the one cutscene...

it’d have been cooler if it was longer too, but i understand why it wasn’t, because the instrumentals work best in this little snippet instead of long-term where they’d definitely require more lyrics

i like that it sounds like the Fire Fire! parappa version considering that’s his first stage! i don’t know if there’s any verification to this, but it makes me think that the beats for all of parappa’s songs in Um Jammer Lammy are made by PJ, which is just really nice to think about... he’s so skilled ;_; PJ and parappa’s iconic collabs...

i don’t know how to rate this at all, but for the headcanon it gave me, i’m giving it a 4/5 dashies! “Really Good!”

[7) BIRTH SONG] - i wouldn’t play for someone else

EXTREMELY FUNNY NAME

i think i like the choir vocals of the song in the cutscenes, but i definitely love katy’s voice in this one, it sounds really sweet

i can’t remove it from the weirdness of the scenario (the first time i saw that shit i was so goddamn baffled) but this does actually Make It Sweet!

i love how her voice sounds in the chorus, and the last line (“Our newest little baby!”) sounds really nice in her voice!!

IDK EXACTLY HOW TO DESCRIBE IT... her vocals just seem... sweetly genuine? like not that she’s really invested in what she’s saying, but just that she’s really enjoying singing it in a small and cute way? IDK... EITHER WAY i like it!

i like the additional lyrics as well! extensions to parappa/ujl songs should always be welcomed i think.

overall i rate this a 3.5/5 dashies! “Pretty Good!” weird song made fun and sweet by katy kat, thank you so much!

[8) THEME OF RAMMY] - music that makes you cause problems

yesssss YESSSSSSS YESSSSSSSSSS

WHEN I GOT TO THIS TRACK IT BECAME ONE OF MY NEW FAVOURITES OF THE WHOLE GAME!

i love the ditzy yet cool lull of the electric guitar, it sounds playful and silly, but with the aesthetic of the instruments used in the song it sounds awesome at the same time.

the strings throughout the song following the rhythm of that guitar add a slight classical feel to it as well that i really like, a level of elegance in contrast to the next part i describe

the muffled and staticy electric guitar parts sound so discordant, yet perfectly in control at the same time, and very In-Your-Face as they just come and go at random over the base sillysong. i really really like that, and it shows off Rammy’s fiery attitude!

i really love how the violent clash of the instruments seems to come together so well in this. it is a really well-made song that made me like Rammy more than i did previously. i think people who know me well will understand that i really like strings in otherwise intense songs, like violins and stuff, so i was really happy to hear some!

FULLY HONESTLY, MY ONLY WISH? is that it was longer. LOL

as an aside, the lull i described reminds me way too much of the theme for sam and max’s office in the TTG series. which obviously is a very personal reason to like the song more, but it is a reason for me NoneTheLess.

overall this gets a 5/5 dashies! “Amazing!”

[9) CASINO IN MY HAIR] - texan ear worm signs.

PAUL CHUCK COME GET YOUR SONG

ALSO THIS SONG BELONGS TO SANDY CHEEKS.

katy kat’s voice fits this song EXTREMELY SURPRISINGLY WELL! i like that she puts on the accent and everything, the rhythm of the lyrics and her enthusiasm go together so NICE!

i like the expansion of the lyrics and the repetition of it is one of its strengths, like any song of that kind (hopefully)

it’s a really big earworm for me, and every so often ill just sing out “Where’s that place that comes in pairs whenever I’m aware? Casino here, casino there, casino in my hair!” VERY SIMPLE YET VERY CATCHY

Yee Haw!

overall i rate this a 4.5/5 dashies! “Super Cool!” it couldn’t be better, but i wouldn’t say it’s one of the best, just for the sheer quality of the other songs i’ve given 5/5 to so far

SIDENOTE - [10) Radio Signal Jam] - F*ck you

OK. i like the presentation of this as if it’s playing live on a radio. it’s a nice little additional flavour to the whole thing that i enjoy immensely. HOWEVER.

nothing can match my disappointment at the next song not being Master Onion’s song. My heart will forever be broken by this traitorous deception. I was promised Tamanegi Sensei. Where is he! WHERE IS HE!!! WAS HE TO BUSY GAMBLING?? COME BACK I LOVE YOU

O-K let’s move on

[11) TASTE OF TERIYAKI] - songs that have mood swings

this song baffles me. i definitely get what they were trying to do with the intro portions with the dramatic quiet, the focus on the vocals and guitar with the creeping and echoing drums and reverberating electronic sounds

it could’ve been really cool, but for the most part it frankly sounds sh*t.

if they could’ve gotten some line re-dos from Teriyaki’s singer to match the lower tempo, it definitely would have sounded most excellent. But the use of the lyrics from the high-tempo song here is just jarring. when i showed this to my brother he genuinely just started laughing from how bad it sounded.

BUT HERE’S WHERE I CAN’T JUST RULE IT AS A BAD SONG.

THE SUDDEN SHIFT INTO THE HIGH TEMPO. IT IS BEAUTIFUL. IT ADDS SO MUCH EXTRA POWER TO THE CHORUS OF THE SONG. i like the song more with the brass and the backup singers, but this genuinely sounds so goddamn cool.

i LOVE the additional lines from teriyaki, it makes them sound even more like an idol! they sound amazing!

And then it stops. Back to the slow nonsense. I am left to dream of what could’ve been. i will say this one sounds better than the other one. Possibly because it’s shorter.

AND THEN THE AWESOME SONG COMES BACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AND I’M LIKE YEAH WOO!!!!! i love the additional discordant sounds in this version, and i like that they did sometimes include the cool SHHH-PSHHH slap-ish sound in the chorus for this portion. the da da da DA DA! being with guitars instead of brass used to disappoint me, but the more i hear it here, the more i like it.

and then my favourite part of the song: the backup vocals combined with a fast rattling-off of teriyaki’s vocal lines from parappa’s version. this sounds godlike. This is the best. I roll around in circles listening to and thinking about this part. the fact that it fades out right as it gets to that breaks my heart into little pieces.

and then it’s over...

i think it’s very fitting that the song that takes over the album out of nowhere and is literally from hell is the most baffling and loved/hated by me. i don’t think i’ve ever been able to truly say that i both love and hate a song.

if someone was good enough at editing to combine this with the actual version of the song, as well as the vocal lines from parappa’s version, into an essentially extended cut of the album version without the weird slow parts, i would be forever indebted to them.

overall i rate this a ???/5 dashies. ”Help!” it flipflops way too much for me to give a number. Thank you Teriyaki Yoko.

[12) POWER OFF! POWER ON!] - HYYYYYYPE

i need to say it. this song has the coolest sounds in the entire game. this is one of the songs that i might abruptly decide is my favourite for a day or so and then go back to Fire Fire! or Taste of Teriyaki (game version). the guitar is most exquisite in this song.

my little brother adores this song, and a big part of that is credited to the silly vocals of Paul Chuck. he’s like Goofy but extra lethal. i love him

ANYWAYS. after Fire Fire! i was concerned that this song’s vocals would be replaced entirely by Katy, but it seems like they understood Paul Chuck’s integral nature to the charm of the song, and so we get a back-and-forth of them both singing lines, with lammy playing in between. it sounds REALLY good!

i like the additional lines by Chuck at the beginning during the intro. they’re a nice little bonus for the three Paul Chuck fans that exist (two being me and my brother)

as always, gotta love katy kat’s vocals!! they definitely benefit from being combined with the vocals of the original song. the chorus parts where they both sing in unison sound AWESOME!!! i wonder if the Fire Fire! cover would have benefited from this alternation....

the filter over the “NEVER USE JOE CHIN’S CHAIN’S FOR THEM!” really adds to it as well! i like that addition.

by the way my favourite line from this song is the “All I wanna hear is you’ve come over here, there’s no fooling around with gears!” it just has such a good flow. not really explicitly related to this version specifically, maybe less so since i prefer it with Chuck’s voice over Katy’s, but yeah.

this song is really hard for me in-game. like, more than any other song i think, apart from Taste of Teriyaki. which i would like to thank this song for allowing me to escape from (-=

this gets a 5/5 Dashies and a “DA-HYUCK!” from me!

[13) WE ARE MILKCAN!!] - Woaah My Head Is Spinning!

another original that only plays during the cutscenes, understandably without the vocals. i liked it then, and i like it even more now!

katy’s lyrics add SO SO MUCH to the high-tempo intensity of the introduction to this song, and the chaos of the entire thing makes it really fun to listen to

i do still enjoy the slower parts of this song! i can imagine katy singing this as the events she describe happen in real time. i really like listening to her try to encourage lammy and ma-san to get it together and play with her.

the bouncing between the full music of her lines contrasting with the quiet and dinky replies of ma-san and lammy makes this track really fun to listen to!

after that part, it goes back to sounding like the intro portion again, but increases in tempo drastically overtime, before suddenly slowing down again and then launching into high speed at random. it’s a really fun and theatrical and dramatic piece to listen to!!!

personally though, it’s not so much my thing based on the sound alone. it’s definitely a great song but i like things a little more relaxed and orderly than this. the quality of it comes from the lyrics and the emotions they manage to carry through with the instrumentals. its a really good glimpse into the nature and personality of MilkCan!

i give this song a 4/5! “Really Good!” there’s nothing i’d suggest to improve this song. it’s just a little to hectic for me, and feels more like music for a theatrical play than any other track. i generally don’t like that kind of stuff (altho there’s definitely exceptions)

SIDENOTE - [14) Jam Chin] - F*ck you eggplant head saunaman.

You disrespected Parappa. You disrespected Sunny Funny and her sweet smile. You have disrespected MilkCan.

Thank you Ma-San for killing this man. I love U.

[15) GOT TO MOVE! (Millennium Girl)

the final song... i knew it would be Got To Move... it makes COSMIC sense

i like the additional little part before the song begins giving some time to breathe in before my head starts screaming in excitement at this song.

this is an AMAZING song and another one of my little brother’s favourites! he likes to sing it! it’s not one of my favourites but it’s definitely revered with me. it’s a sheer quality song and the one that best captures the soul of MilkCan!!

and i have to say. this album version made me like it EVEN MORE. at first i was enjoying the regular song, but then in the second part PARAPPA comes in with the alternate lines from his version in-between Katy Kat’s lines. it is SO SO SO cool. i often think about how songs in the game would sound with parappa’s versions incorporated in some fashion like this and it comes out so EPIC!!

it seriously made me pog SO hard when i heard him coming in. SOOOO exciting!

some thought notes about this song:

i really like the guitar during the portion leading up to the chorus, it sounds really cool.

katy’s singing in the chorus itself is the best of ALL her singing! her voice blends perfectly with the tone, the pitch shifts, the vibes... angellic truly

parappa‘s lyrics in-between add such an awesome additional energy, especially the lyrics that go on a little longer, like “But let me give you a word of advice, it seems like a waste of time, but it’s nice!” those lines shine the most to me.

my other favourite part is the rapid backforth in the later part of the chorus, especially the “GO! ON! MOVE! ON!” between katy’s lines. it goes together IMPECCABLY

it should be obvious, but this song gets a 5/5 Dashies from me! “Amazing!” it truly blew me away, just like the 5/5 Dashie portions of Taste of Teriyaki did. i love the fact that Parappa’s lines are slightly more muted and behind a bit of a filter to make sure the focus is on Katy’s iconic lines, but are clear enough to be enjoyed.

Truly Thank U so much if you read this far... i love u so mach.... thank you for listening to me ramble about my current hyperfix <3 (-=

#txt #ptr #um jammer lammy #autism moment

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yeswritingsandwritings · 5 years ago

Text

COVID Diaries; Pennies

It is March 2020 and I’ve channeled the spirit of Paul Revere. As Los Angeles erupts into rioting and mass fentanyl suicide, I dive headfirst into the cabin of the Mazda, and gun the packed ship upwards along the vacant I5 corridor. Every smouldering city under Gavin Newsom looks further gone than the last. The navigation takes me on some perverse fantasy detour thru post-apocalyptic San Francisco. It’s been a long time coming but now it’s solidified. The mayor and her delegates have chomped their cyanide pills and now the streets and bridges offer rotting cars beside silent, beautiful Victorian manors. Still in full color, the sky is blue and the sun is yellow, gleaming indifferently. I am nervous about San Franscisco County. The shelter in place order says no one shall be out on the street without proper reason. And, proper reason or not, I have a pharmacy of drugs in the trunk of my car. Will it be enough to wait out the pandemic in my mother’s house? Enough to keep me sane tucked in the basement of the compound on Cougar Mountain, Issaquah, Washington, for GodKnowsHowLong? My very own Bavarian Alps.

For years in LA I have lived for high speed and hard sex in a blackout frenzy which no young American could denigrate without looking like a nerd. In our culture of excess I sought the most insane, unexplored corridors. Chavionistic romps through the bitter forests of lust, contamination, too-young suicide, too-good blowjobs that leave explosions on this cast of characters flown from every corner of the globe, all with the same indelible fever. I come to now, in this chaotic month handed down by God, March 2020, and I’m withdrawing from all of it in the penthouse on the side of the mountain.

In this moment the fantasy is fading fast, like being jolted from a wet dream by a home invasion. For a lot of people the American dream was already a flickering ember in the distance, a relic of some stupid pilgrimgrage for egoic glory, a blind propaganda puzzle piece with no jigsaw to belong to. But I had formed my own relationship with the concept, and, until now, had believed wholeheartedly in the myth in America; or at least that myth’s capacity to spur significant action, which could abolish hunger and pain, mistreatment and misunderstanding, which could deliver us from evil and unto the kingdom of heaven.

I am not, to many of her 300 million pairs of eyes, a portrait of traditional American success. I am the starving artist archetype. I’ve lived in abandoned buildings and shot cocaine into my veins in the speeding bathroom of many an Amtrak carriage. These may be my most definitive traits, save for the music I somehow manage to draw out of all of this. Albums worth of potential answers to the impossible questions. Sometimes I think I’ve reached the peak, with the LSD and the naked festival girls. I am 26 years old and feel incompetent. I go to pay a traffic ticket or am electric bill and find myself paralyzed at the entrance to the website. In a moment of otherworldly strength I call the bank and my debit card has been cancelled. I stare at the parking ticket in my pod, which has been rented from a company called Up(Start), and is arranged in a row with twenty others. At least I’ve made it to Los Angeles.

Up(Start) is a strange place. I find most people don’t last very long in this community. They leave back to their hometowns or find apartments. The ones who stay haunt this place like ghosts, with no discernible goals and mysterious incomes. I’ve learned not to ask how these life-longers pay the rent. The answer is not translatable.

Willow is one of these life-longers. She always talks about moving out; sometimes to an apartment in LA, most recently about some nebulous palace in France. She says her grandmother died and left her everything. She shows me a suitcase full of watches and rings that still can’t fully convince me of her story. She drinks vodka when she wakes up and convinces me to fuck her when Jesse leaves us in his room alone.

Jesse found his way out to a beautiful house in Silver Lake. He had been at Up(Start) for a year before that. He is the nicest guy I know, offering the coat off his back for nothing but a swig of your vodka in return.

I left these characters behind, keeping a steady 65 on the interstate and stopping only to black out in a hotel room in Redding, CA. Summer, inspirational barista and blowjob queen, dared me to stop and see her in Portland, but my body was crawling from scabies from Lucy, (who was also in Portland and, I would later learn, infected with the virus) and I sped right through.

My younger brother Jon was at the house and had been awaiting my arrival. I instantly understood why. My mother had become a figurehead for the national panic, and shoulder-hugged me with her mask on. She is, as we speak, sterilizing the place.

I’ve gotten to spend a good amount of time with Jon, and am somewhat surprised to find that he faces the same existential torment as I do. This is not something we talk about, but I can feel it on him. He is super into Xanax, and orders pressed bars off the darknet. I share the drugs I’ve brought with him. Kratom, weed, and, —most enticing— Flubromazolam. I learn that he has been kicked out of UW on academic probation. I ask him about it in front of my mother and stepdad. With a casualness that shocks me he says he just didn’t care about any of his classes. But he’s got reaccepted to the school and he says he’s going to make it this time.

I show him how I order my drugs online. I show him the designer benzodiazepines on the clearnet, pennies per dose. We place an order for O-DSMT. It’s an insane solution to our problems, but I guarantee you it works.

I tell Jon about my life in LA with the stuff. Taking it and driving weed deliveries all day. I don’t tell him about the long nights with Lucy, telling her the love I feel from the opiate is sourced from her, then failing to get hard.

Jon, for his part, tells me about the peak of his Oxycontin habit, poppin 7 OC30’s a day with his buddies at Rolling Loud. I was just a few blocks away. I didn’t know he was in town.

We order the O-DSMT to his apartment in the U District, stopping to and snag it on our sole vacation to Dad’s for dinner. Two packages have been delivered. We have the save pavlov response. We carry the packages to his apartment on the top floor and split the bubble wrap with a butterfly knife. Out of a manilla envelope comes 100 green Xanax bars. From a bent UPS envelope comes a gram of O-DSMT and 250mg of 4-ACO-DMT, a bonus for me (Jon says he hates psychedelics).

We set to the scale and split the gram, dosing 50mg then and there to get through dinner. The next day he visits me in the basement, saying “Yo, this O-DSMT shit… it’s dope.”

I say “I’m with you.”

My days are spent deep in the dream flow, recording songs for a hopeful fourth album. The third one is still far from complete, but I can’t go back and meddle with those songs now. Wouldn’t dare touch their Los Angeles essence with the hand of the evergreen state. They will go to Rob and Twon and Andy as they are.

I’m back to guitars for the new album. Cardinal sin AC/DC type songs. I think it may be a double album, quarantine permitting. I want an exploratory, unstructured, throw paint at the wall and see what sticks, White album/Life of Pablo situation. I want solo piano pieces and Aphex Twin-esque 808 excursions. I want the label to release it on white vinyl with extensive liner notes. Indulgence. I want this album to be the one where I say “indulge me.”

If Rob is vehimently opposed to the idea I had the fantasy of making an easy album. Taking songs like Parade Owl, See You Tomorrow, Miss Can’t Sleep and putting out a whole album of them. Good rock music. Take a step back from the frontlines; the cutting edge. We’ll see what sticks to the wall after this quarantine is over.

Weeks drift by. There’s a trade route for all the beer that gets brought into the house. It goes from the garage fridge to the basement fridge to my eager hand, to my mouth, to my blood. Night by night the ritual recurs, til my mom takes out the downstairs trash and finds all the empties. She makes some subtle comment. I tell her to buy more White Claw.

Despite the drug flow my inspiration seems to be drying up. Rob took a listen to the twenty five songs I’d completed since arriving in Issaquah and said they sounded like Dogs. The old band. The old rock and roll band we’ve been trying to move away from. I was disappointed to hear him say it. I was disappointed he wasn’t excited about the songs. “Fuck it, should I scrap them all?” I asked myself. Then I started to look around the house and understand that if nothing came of these songs… I must be insane. I must be losing it. The stupid research chemical stimulants don’t help. I thought they would. Productivity and all… but I’m just jittery, texting strangers on Instagram for hours, all the while feeling like I should be doing something else. And the television is on in the background, and I told myself I was going to do so much to day. And I did it. And people on Instagram say “you seem busy.” They’ve always said I seem this and I seem that. I never agreed with any of it, but they probably know me better than I do. How could I see myself? I look for myself through a fog and it’s only a ripple of a shadow. A microcosm a million miles away through a hellscape with no up or down, no east or west. They say I’m social. They say I’m a socialite. Really I just get drunk and unleash all my nervous energy on the party or, nowadays, the Zoom meeting.

Today I drink Modello. Ma and Chuck went to the Seattle waterfront for a picnic or something. I didn’t get the details. But the sun should be going down now, and she’s texting me asking if I want to play a board game when they get back. I say yeah sure I do. My temper when I’m off these amphetamines analogues, though… I worry I’ll flip the Pictionary board. Slam dunk the wine glass onto the wood floor. Now the cliffhanger; will this Modello calm my nerves?

This morning I went with mom to buy plants for the garden. I thought we were going to get seeds but she wanted the already grown ones. She was ready to be angry. Nothing made her happy. We went to three different garden store. I think she got some tomatos. How the hell am I going to get out of this one? Feels like the walls are closing in. I feel like I’m in the freezer in the back of McDonalds. I feel so sad for her, but I also feel so sad for myself. I feel cut off. I feel short of breath. I feel terror. It is Friday, April 17, 2020. Dread, terror, paranoia… I’m sure it’s been felt a million times by a million people, but here’s my version of it. In this McMansion on the side of the mountain, feeling less like I have a mission than ever. Calling nobody. Freezing. Yeah I’m freezing.

My brother and I both have drugs to get through this crisis but I’m planning to get off them. I sold him half of my etizolam and half of another shipment of O-DSMT the other day. He wasn’t at all interested in the 2-FDCK, an analogue of the dissociative Ketamine. I am still not really sure what dissociatives do to consciousness. They can move you into states profound darkness. You feel like your life is a black and white film and it is raining outside. And it drips off the palm trees and you sit in traffic on the way back from the Boy’s and Girl’s Club, where the boys and girls wouldn’t listen, they’d just go off into their own worlds. I wonder how they’re all doing now, tucked into their parents houses in Calabasas.

Anyway, I said to Jon “I’m getting off the stuff.” And I intended to. This journal finds me at a crossroads between fantasy and reality. What is my life going to be for? Where do I cast this fishing pole? Well the pole’s been cast. It’s out there in the middle of the ocean. But at the same time it’s in my hand, in this very moment, and I can chose where to dip it. I’m not trying to catch a fish in this scenario, I just like the serenity of the bay.

The question on everyone’s mind is: “If not drugs, then what!?” That’s a great question and I’d be bullshitting if I said I could answer it. I don’t know what lies on the other side of this life. I want to find out. Do I truly? I have to truly. Love, sex, work, victory… I’ve seen all these things before. And I keep turning to these substances. They fill up my days and my hours and all the music is informed by them. They move my hands to play the guitar and my voice is scratchy when it comes out. I’ve formed an identity around these drugs to a certain extent. That idea of me has to die. It does. I’ll have to mourn it. I’ll have to mourn a lot. I guess I don’t know what to be afraid of. I know a lot of stuff is going to come up through this process. The drugs numb it all out. People say that but it’s really really true. Bad news doesn’t don’t hit you as hard. Most things don’t hit you at all. You’re in your world. You’re off in a cloud. You’re unaware of the world around you. You’re afraid to engage. Why?

It’s easier not to ask why. It’s easier to get the immediate relief of a squirt of etizolam tincture. Or a gross tossing of O-DSMT powder into your mouth and a quick washdown with water. In this way you don’t have to answer any questions. In this way nothing hits you. And guess what else? All your heroes did the same thing.

But a lot of them died doing it. And you don’t want to die. You really really don’t want to die. You want to live a long life, with kids and grandkids, and see what happens to America and what music turns into. You don’t want to die, but what do you have to live for? You know you can make things up. Everyone’s always making shit up. All of this is made up. The culture, the value of a dollar, the value of a Benz. We just decide on it. And that takes a lot. But you know what takes a lot less? Deciding how you want to react to each moment. This one and this one and this one. Do you know what I mean? They say a lot of stuff about the world. The world’s fucked. They say the world’s burning to the ground. They say we can’t leave our houses. They say America won’t be a super power by the end of all of this. But they’re making shit up. And I’m making shit up too. I’m whipping up like a chef. Throwing dishes out from the kitchen, but the dishes are words and actions and the kitchen is my mind. What kind of food am I throwing out? What kind of food am I serving the world? Let me serve love and hope. But for that to happen, let me cultivate it in myself first. Let me nurture it like a child. Let me see it sober. Let me take the steps in the right direction. It’s simple. It’s simpler than you think it is. What are you going to do right now, after reading this? Or while reading this? How are you going to face the world?

Jon told me he got into Xanax from the Famous Dex song “Japan.”

“Baby girl, what you doing, where your man? I just popped a xan, fifty thousand in Japan”

He told me his friends heard the song and picked up some Xanax because of it. They liked it and reached out to him “You’ve got to try this,” they said. My little brother, in the throes of this batshit demon force that will bury him. It might bury me too. The jury’s still out. Mom, just let me withdraw in peace. She brings down a space heater. I grow to love it. I lay down on the wood floor that the spiders sometimes dash across. The space heater comes close to burning me, but I’m ok. I stand up, dizzy from all I’ve done to try to combat the withdrawls. Way too much etizolam, way to much kratom, getting to the point of way too much weed and alcohol. But hopefully it’ll all be over soon, and I can call my friends in peace and not want to slam down the phone whenever there is the tiny threat of silence, or whenever I speak, or whenever they speak. I can’t any of it sober, that’s what I think. Life is hard sober; it’s a breeze when you’re floating thru it. A good dream. So why get sober? They say it’ll kill me. Well, I said that. In this very same paragraph. And maybe it will. But when you’re withdrawing like this… all you want is a moment of peace.

Oh God, at dinner tonight I started to go off about my own mental state to the family. I should have known it was a big mistaken, but on my way home from Doordashing a rainy Issaquah I stopped at QFC and got a bottle of True Eagle American Spirits, Kentucky manufactured vodka. And, helping myself to serving of kimchi, I said to them “I think I’m losing it.” And the conversation spiraled until my mother asked me “Are you suicidal?” And “Are you struggling with drugs?” Jon, between us, must have felt betrayed, but I just wanted to feel understood. I feel Chuck does not want to understand. I understand what he’s sacrificed for the life he has, but what value does that life has to him? He has a tumor in his jawbone, and it’s eating away at him, and no one can do anything. And they can’t get out to the specialists on the East Coast, and they won’t do the invasive surgery. He’s too busy. I know, in some capacity, he understands. Because he blows these things off like they don’t matter at all, when anyday he could have a stroke like Grandma had, fall to the floor of the kitchen while dishing up his kimchi, or pulling a slice of pizza out of the carton. I feel the same way. I have no idea what’s going to happen, but I know that I am mentally unwell. And I avoid the questions about my drug use and about my suicidality. I miss girls, ma. I miss pussy and parties and not giving a fuck. The way I don’t give a fuck now is in these terrifying sound collages drafted on the latest of nights, in the deep dark depths of quaratine. What was I saying in the last one? Something about how I didn’t wanna kill the crabs on the beach on Whidbey Island as a kid. Holy shit I’m losing my mind. But it’s all fine, isn’t it? As long as the music comes out fine.

What could I possibly do to get healthy? I feel so far off the deep end. You have no idea; I feel like crying. My best friend, living with the girl I thought I could always go back to. We don’t talk. I mix these ketamine analogues in with that cheap cheap vodka (plus etizolam) and cry tears onto this plastic table. It’s pointless to keep up the tinder courtships. I feel like this will never end. And it started with such a bang. I was such a part of history. Now I’m a nobody; I’m a junkie, holding on by the thinnest thread. No energy to pray. I feel like Cobain, and I know so many people do… but I really do. I can only imagine. But I’m only listening to Mingus, Lana Del Rey and Radiohead (Kid A thru Hail to The Thief).

Should I throw weed in the mix? Lord knows I have enough of it. It’s my number one priority. I’ve made enough songs now that we could workshop what I’ve come up with years. What else is there to do? Mingus ripped the piano strings out of some pianist’s instrument in front of a live audience, then stormed off the stage. Where the fuck is that in my life? I’m in front of the computer, weeping because America has come to a close. You know they sent jazz to the Soviet Union as a WEAPON? A weapon of freedom and democracy and individualism. What the fuck happened? It all makes me want to cry. It’s all too much; this world. These people I’ve known and loved and lost. This music I’ve made that they promise me will be something, but I don’t know if I believe them. I don’t know if I want anything to do with this life. I can’t engage with my culture anymore… my history. I feel like I’m not a part of it. I feel so disconnected. Who’s rippin the strings out of MY piano? Or who’s piano am I ripping the strings out of? We’ve lost so much… I mean… I’ll do my best to work with what we still have, but we’ve been so fractured. It wouldn’t surprise me if this was the end. Of America. Of our culture. Of our music and our hustle and bustle and industry and lover’s lanes and rites of passage. I feel like I’m mourning it now. Mourning my culture. Maybe mourning the illusion that was sold to us. Believe me, I was first in line to buy. That’s why it destroys me so deeply to see it collapse.

I guess we’re all one people. I’m crying writing this. Weeping, weeping, weeping. Grieving. You know what grieving is. I remember what’s-her-name in the pool. We went to every hot tub, each a different temperature, in the Desert Hot Springs Resort. Then Lucy’s friend’s new boyfriend told us Bernie Sanders had stayed there when he had visited DHS. I laughed so hard. Lucy ordered me another drink. She didn’t mind the cost. She liked me to be on her level. And I didn’t mind. I was proud to sip. We went back to the hotel and did god knows what. Feels a million lifetimes away.

This was back when anything could happen. When America was a blank slate and no one could predict anything. When you could go outside and say “What the fuck is up?” and get in adventures. I mourn the loss of that. Maybe it’s all in my head. Maybe that’s still there. But I’ve emotionally severed my ties to it. And I wish I didn’t. Because I love it. I love it so much. It’s not a myth. I swear to god it’s not a myrh. It was a reality… until all this happened. You have no idea. I mean, if you’re reading this and weren’t around before. You have no idea. I mean… I don’t know what things are going to be like after this. But not the same. There’s no way they could be the same.

You know I hope I get this shit. I hope I contract COVID-19. Lay in this guest bedroom bed with the scabies I may or may not have gotten from Upstart Creative Living… and which wouldn’t die off. I hope I can’t breathe. I hope I’m immune. I want to walk the world. Maybe I should go out, get it, isolate, heal, be immune… if that’s even possible. At this point we don’t even know if immunity is a thing that happens with COVID. But even if I could walk the earth without fear of it… everyone else is cowering, and they pull away from, seeing I’m not wearing a mask or gloves, or even if I am… I’m so sorry. I didn’t know it would all end this way. I would have done so much more. Focused so much more on each kiss. Even every note. I did my best, I guess. It feels like it’s all coming to an end. It’s Thursday, April 23, but that doesn’t mean anything. You have to understand how little dates mean in this time. It’s like we’re living in one of those time capsules buried beneath the walkway at WWU. Stagnant… yeah we write songs and poems and do our work and keep the economy from faltering completely… but there’s a different angle to look at it all now. The world is over. I mean, aha, to use the words of Rem… “It’s the End of the World As We Know It.” Key words: “As we know it.” I had no idea this would happen in my lifetime… I couldn’t even conceive it. If you would have told me this would have happened six months ago I wouldn’t have believed it. America seemed so stable. And now it feels like it’s in shambles. It really did feel stable. You may think I’m insane for saying America in September, 2019 seemed stable… but shit, we were free. And we were headed where we were headed. This throws a wrench in all of this. And it could be the end. And I thought this was the greatest country on earth. Happiness is a buttery, try to catch it like every night.

I’ve been fascinated in American history since I could understand it. Most specifically, I’ve been fascinated about how history is still happening. The closer you get you the current day, the harder it is to get a straight story. FDR did what he did and we won. That’s fact. That’s cement. Nixon? Everyone agrees he was a crook. But what about Reagan? What about Bush Sr? What about Clinton? The closer you get to the modern day, the more difficult it becomes to discern what is real and what is fake.

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everyday-effing-therapy · 5 years ago

Text

12/06/2020

Hello,

It’s day 3/4/5 (?) of the exams. I had Literature on Monday, Maths on Tuesday and English on Wednesday. Yesterday was a national holiday, so we had a break and I am starting another series of exams on Monday. It will be advanced Maths and then Biology and Chemistry on Tuesday and Wednesday.

Let me tell you, the first three days weren’t even that bad. Shocker, I know. I was super stressed out last Sunday and positive that every single day would be a living nightmare, but, to tell you the truth, it wasn’t.

I have to admit, the first day was scary, but I guess that was due to me not knowing what will actually happen. Form the second day on, I didn’t have trouble falling asleep or eating and I also didn’t feel like randomly throwing up, which is some progress.

I’ve been watching Victorious and then iCarly from yesterday. That’s because some episodes of Victorious make me so mad that I need to calm myself down. And because I knew that iCarly used to be my favourite show in my entire lifetime, I decided to give it a shot and so far, I am loving it again.

I also went to the garden to suntan a bit today. I felt like I was really pale and since I am not going anywhere this summer, I decided that I can at least try to relax in my garden. I am fully aware that tanning is bad for your skin, so really, don’t overdo it, avoid the sun and all of that, but I applied some sunblocker and left the sun when it started being too much.

I also came back to exercising, as I stopped during the exams. I was way too tired to even think straight, let alone do any exercises.

Unfortunately, ot started being hotter and hotter, so exercising in the afternoon also becomes a bit problematic, but whatever, I guess I am still fine and besides, it’s not as hot as it was last year.

I’ve been doing some thinking about my school friends. It started out simple, i went out for coffee on Tuesday and learnt that Silver will be breaking up with his girlfriend soon. Now, I don’t really know what to think about it. Yes, I had a crush on him, but that passed when I realised that he really wasn’t that good with people he cared about romantically. There were so many girl crushes that he had and acted as if he wanted to date, but when they became interested, he ghosted them.

I’ve already had my heart broken by so many people, it’s safe to say that the least I can do is learn from my mistakes.

Then, I realised that throughout the exams I haven’t talked to Black at all. I don’t know whether he ignored me on purpose or not, but he didn’t acknowledge me at all and maybe, just maybe, that’s actually for the better.

It doesn’t shatter my heart and that’s important.

And when I started thinking about all of that, about the tenderness and softness of friendship, I started thinking about my best friend - V.

I’ve known V since I was 13 and we certainly didn’t become friends straightaway. We had our own friendships and way too many differences, she was rough around the edges and I was so delicate she could break me with two words. We became friends some years later, when I had nobody and she came to be my friend. Then, she stayed.

I never knew how to approach her. She was super friendly at first but we didn’t know anything about each other, so she would always start the conversation with one thing that we shared and that was that we went to the same dance school. After that we talked a bit about friendships and the first breakthrough happened on her birthday when we talked and laughed a lot and I started trusting her.

She was hurt and disappointed in people, just like I was and we both covered it up with smiles and cheerfulness that wasn’t exactly made up, cause at the end of the day, life is good and you should remember that.

Life went on and so did we. When I was 14 we went on the exchange programme where I befriended her quite quickly. At that time, I was dating a girl and said girl was a bit jealous of V, which I couldn’t grasp at that point, but I really didn’t want to hurt my girlfriend.

Eventually, V was the one that made me and my ex break up. It wasn’t because of jealousy, no, she was a friend of my girlfriend, hell, a close one. They shared some worries and thoughts and ultimately, V was the person that my girlfriend confided in when she started thinking about breaking up with me. Long story short, V said that it was probably the best thing to do.

When my girlfriend broke up with me, I thought I was going to die. I was 14, which seems so funny, except that it’s literally not, because I’ve never hurt as much before and never hurt as much since then. It was my first take at actual feelings and I was gone, disappeared in the sea of unbalanced actions.

I didn’t know. I didn’t know that V was the one who talked to my girlfriend and I surely didn’t know that V was someone who anonymously said so much rude shit to me after the break up that my ex had to intervene. I was in pain, the searing hot one and it seemed there was no way out.

V became my friend a year later, when I got my feelings in check, straigtened things out with my ex, even came back to said ex only to break up a couple of months later, but this time, I knew what would happen. This time, it was way more private and V didn’t say anything, didn’t meddle. We broke up for the second time because we found out that we really weren’t that good of a match. Opposites attract, but attraction is not enough to save a relationship.

V became my best friend. She was already friends with Su and the three of us would talk on the phone, constantly text or go to the movies. I was happy I had friends and when we decided to go to the same high school, I was thrilled.

When we started high school, me and V were in the same class and Su had to transfer, which she did after the first semester. Still, the first half of the year meant a lot, especially when it came to forming social circles, taking up places to sit and such. We’d always sit together, hang out together, be together and that was fine as well.

Then Su came and we needed adjustments, but I guess it was for the better, because we managed to be more for each other but for other people too.

I learnt what V did in my relationship with my ex and I was furious and hurt.

But, you know, you can’t take back time. She did what she deemed necessary and admitted to changing her opinion about me and liking me way more afterwards.

Now, here’s the deal: I don’t know how to forgive. I forget sometimes, but it’s always there in my subconsciousness, nagging me and when I do remember, I can’t bring myself to forgive. I tried to ignore it, I tried to move on, but I can’t stop holding a grudge. It doesn’t matter whether those are my friends, close friends, strangers, parents, family, whoever. I never forgive. I try to move on and live with this dull ache in my chest that makes everyday life a bit harder and I try not to show how I feel, cause you can’t turn back time, I can’t undo what you did. But I was never able to fully forgive.

There are only two people I achieved that with. My cousin, pretty much the most important person in the world and V, my other most important person in the world.

It’s not like the knowledge doesn’t hurt, but I am alive, I love her as my friend, I am so thankful for her in my life. Sad situtations come and go, I’ve hurt her plenty of times too, so there’s not much we can do, unless we want to wallow in pity for the rest of our lives.

She’s been extremely supportive throughout entire high school, she befriended my cousin, we hanged out at her summer house a couple of times, she ran after Black for me on that infamous birthday party and talked to him for literal half an hour. She never told me exactly what went down between them, but her support meant so much and always will and I will cherish that forever.

Me, V and Su are the weirdest jigsaw puzzle, but we fit into each other and that’s all that matters.

V is the smartest queen I know and I never feel bad or jealous like I have with others when she scores better on biology or chemistry tests, cause I just know that she’s smarter like that. I am better in English and Literature and she knows that too, so we bicker sometimes, but just overall have that mutual understanding of each other and respect for what we know.

She kissed me once to see how it is and I freaked out, cause she’s like family now and it shocked me. I really didn’t mean to hurt her then, I just freaked out and it was my fault, cause I offered in the first place.

I love her so much as a friend that it’s insane.

Care about your friends, cause they might be the best thing in your life and that’s magical.

With love,

#12/06 #23:55 #night post #diary #journal #journal entry #life #friends #best friend #c posts

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therelativist · 6 years ago

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Beaujester Is The Best and Here’s Why (an essay by Alpha Ray)

North vs South – Opposites Attract

Beau and Jester aren’t a likely couple. Beau is a standoffish butch who favours melee combat and knows little to nothing of magic. Her weapon of choice is simple – fists, elbows, knees. Quick and brutal. She’s a scrapper who hides her more academic interests behind the veneer of a jock. Meanwhile, Jester is a humorous trickster magic wielder who avoids melee as much as possible. A ‘leetle blue teefling’ who attracts people and befriends them easily. She’s loveable and loving in turn. As happy go lucky as they come. Hey

It feels like an unfortunate trope – the happy, well adjusted one fixes the gruff, standoffish traumatised one. But the second you look beyond the fronts the two characters put forward things seem very different.

Neither of them like to let people in and both utilise a front to prevent that. Jester focuses on others and never lets anyone too close. She takes any chance to deflect the conversation away from her and towards others. Beau takes the opposite approach, which is trying not to let people get close. Both require people to turn a more insightful eye towards them to get behind their barriers. Thankfully, both have high wisdom. Jester is slowly learning that she can express negative emotions without her friends abandoning her for not being the perfect, happy go lucky seed of joy and chaos she puts across whilst Beau is learning that she can be creative and can have friends and love those friends without opening herself up for abandonment. And they’re both teaching each other more healthy coping mechanisms including finding the balance between standing up for yourself and finding your own space, and being welcoming and friendly and creative and investing time in other people.

They bring out the best in each other. They’re different but they look out for each other and complement each other. Beau takes the melee and Jester takes the range when they’re trying to deal with an enemy with the monk doing her best to tank. And maybe they’re both very good liars, but they suck at lying to each other.

Compulsive Liars – How They Support Each Other

Marisha has described Beau as a liar and Jester certainly feels that she herself is one. Again, on surface glance it sounds like a recipe for disaster. And yet the conversation where this all came from came about as a result of them failing badly at lying to each other and responding by being honest. That’s what they bring out in each other.

Jester needs someone who will take her seriously and not dismiss her and her needs. She presents a cheerful demeanour which hides her real thoughts, hurts and feelings. This is something that probably came even from her childhood and feeling pressured to indicate to her mother that she was happy with her living situation as so not to stress her out. Anyone who can’t read beyond that front runs the risk of encouraging Jester to further disinvest in herself and to focus on the other person. Thankfully, Beau’s demonstrated a determined ability to reach out to Jester and to take her seriously. She’s been the most successful at getting her to admit negative emotions in a way that displays clearly her understanding of Jester. But she doesn’t just encourage the acknowledgement of negative emotions, she encourages Jester to laugh and is willing to go along with her pranks and tricks. Beau takes every aspect of Jester seriously from the ones which are more fun and cheerful to the ones which aren’t necessarily pretty or nice or easy to deal with. Jester needs someone to talk to who will reassure her when needed but also still support her creative outlets and Beau has proven herself willing and able to do that. When travelling to Xhorhas, Beau played along with dramatically reading the smut book and with the jokey worship of Jester to convince the kobolds that she was a god instead of shutting Jester down or dismissing her. And Beau found it fun and laughed right along with her because of their relatively similar senses of humour. That didn’t start later, Beau and Jester have been pulling pranks and having fun since the first time they shared a room and decided to inform the guards that they were naked for no real clear reason beyond that they could and Jester wanted to.

As someone who struggles with her sense of self worth, anyone who isn’t willing or able to wholly appreciate and support Beau is ultimately going to be toxic for her. Thankfully, Jester has been championing the Beauregard Appreciation Squad from the start She’s built up Beau when other members of the party have torn her down, encouraged her to try things and supported her in her success. Jester respects Beau as an equal, and Beau likewise respects Jester. She values her opinion to the point where when Beau’s challenging Dairon about letting people in, Jester is the example she uses and who she talks about the most. Beau’s also learned that the way to get Jester to open up is to open up herself and to allow herself to be vulnerable, thus exposing things about herself that she’s ashamed of or would normally keep to herself. This degree of communication about real feelings and real hurt is unique to Jester.The fact that Jester let Beau expose herself and didn’t mock her but responded in kind is the best way to teach Beau that her friends do care about her and won’t let her down. Jester had the benefit of a loving mother but for Beau, who had parental issues, being able to admit that she loved someone must have been huge. Oh, and also they love each other.

Beau and Jester bring out the best in each other. They both tend to lock their feelings up and put up a front but they’re also both uniquely good at getting the other to admit their feelings and hurt and things that they’re ashamed of. They encourage more a healthy expression of emotions,better coping mechanisms in each other and are both pushing each other to make better life choices. Beau is receiving the support she wants but has never had, someone who believes in her and her abilities. Jester has found someone who doesn’t just love the happy parts of her but loves the angry and the sad and the hurt as well and encourages her to show her true feelings.

Jigsaw Puzzle - Fitting The Pieces Together

Beau and Jester have a surprising amount in common, not least their uncharacteristic willingness to open up to each other. Their senses of humour align, their love of the group and investment in their friends, their love of animals. Hell, they even adopted a dog together.

While they might favour different styles, both are ultimately scrappy fighters and enjoy fighting in arenas and bars, both with and against each other. They both enjoy friendly competition and neither are sore losers, Jester willingly accepting defeat in the Evening Nip and promising that she’d come out victorious next time. Plot twist, she didn’t but neither did Beau and they mostly fought alongside each other not against each other. They’re always willing to throw down and have each others backs.

They also share a love for animals and actually adopted a dog together (though Marisha seems to have forgotten this) to the point where Liam actually coined the ship name Lavorregard. Beau’s attempted care for Professor Thaddeus as well as owl Frumpkin shows an empathetic and emotional side she normally tries to conceal. She and Jester both have this protective instinct when it comes to animals and both crave their judgement free affection. They both were lonely growing up without many friends and as such it makes sense that they’d turn to animals to find that companionship. However, when separated from their animals they both very notably turned to each other and were surprised but relieved to find that same support and same concern shown from other people. They both have a lot of care to give and Beau, when Jester exposed herself, didn’t mock her and instead chose to support her and to show the depth of her care for her.

Most importantly, they have fun together. They find pleasure in each others company. They have similar morals (both prioritise their close circle over society at large but generally try to avoid doing too much harm and prioritize individuals over governments/countries). While Beau feels increasingly large scale social obligation due to being an Expositor-in-training, she has proved herself willing to break individual laws and not tied to any one country. They have both expressed willingness to work with the drow and a desire to understand them without simply dismissing them as evil and display an unwillingness to believe propaganda. However, both were down to fuck up a guy who was threatening Jester’s mother and ultimately put their close circle of friends and those they care about first.

They both find smut entertaining and both enjoy reading, though Beau is reluctant to admit her nerdier interests. They both enjoy pranking others and both have a flair for the dramatic. They also both have more vulnerable sides and both need someone to open up to who will understand and support them. They derive pleasure from each others company as well as being able to have emotionally heavier but vital conversations. They each allow the other to be honest about how they truly feel. They’re both young women who are encountering a milestone in their life and learning about the world. They also both love each other

Team Blue - The End

To conclude, they’re gay and in love and would have a surprisingly strong and healthy relationship based on mutual love and support as well as genuine enjoyment of spending time together. They never mock each other and always try to build the other up. They tend towards healthier coping mechanisms and more honest airings of their feelings when they’re together and bring joy to each other’s lives. They deserve each other in the best possible way.

Thank you for reading and have a nice evening.

#critical role #beaujester #jester lavorre #beauregard #beau #lavorregard #sappheau #maintagging because i have no shame #long post

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empressxmachina · 6 years ago

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Party Foul, pt. 1 by Imperial-Radiance (that’s me)

Click the link above for DA or keep reading below here!

We're going on a trip in our favorite flying ship, zooming through the sky, three magic spies! Girl power. Here's a link to the picture. Where did it originate? I found it on Reddit, but...

“What do we do, Dom? What do we do!?”

A shrill broke out of an already broken vocal tract. Alcohol was never good for the throat, even if it was blended with coffee to hide the fact. The rotors of the helicopter piercing through the air echoed throughout the cabin, masking the beeps and dings of sensors in the hub and only drowned out by the accelerating beats of an overstimulated heartbeat, tippy taps of hands and feet upon cloth and metal, and a shaky, continually rising tone with every sentence.

“Nothing’s popping up on the scanner, Dom. Not. One. Thing.”

“I’m the pilot here, and you don’t think I know that, already!?” There had been plenty a time Domino had wanted to knock some sense into Glyph, but this incident had thrown them right in the eye of a scope, aligned perfectly with a crosshair. “Do I need to remind you how we got here? Why we’re doing this!?”

“No.” The questions may as well have been rhetorical as the response didn’t matter. They both knew the reminder was going to come anyway, and it sure did, drilling in hard.

“I told you not to get that tattoo, but you did,” Domino began. “I told you not to show Curio that tattoo, but you did. “I warned you not to tell her what it meant, but you did.”

Glyph attempted defending themselves, crossing their slightly slowed heart. “And, and, and… I warned her to not look into it, either! You can’t blame me for this!”

Domino barked back, nearly scaring Glyph’s jittery self through the windshield. “Are you kidding!? If not you, then I blame the damn Joe-bombs: all three you chugged like water in a desert.”

If she had known their clan gathering tonight would turn into a secret spy mission all because of a few drinks and a surprisingly easy to open cellar, then they all would’ve gone abstinent long ago. It probably would’ve made lots of other things easier over the years, too, but that’s why it’s called an addiction, isn’t it?

“Besides,” Domino continued, glazing over her own flaws, “you’re acting as if Curio wasn’t going to get curious. It’s in her damn name! Idiot!”

“Her or me?”

“Does it matter at this point? You’re both dead to me until we all get back and you two grovel to the Captain that this vehicle thievery was for a rescue mission and is not worth a demotion.”

“Two?” a new voice broke the semi-silence, sending both pairs of eyes in the front to the singular eye – well, singular working eye – in the back, a full person length away by the storage and supply bins. “You surely didn’t forget about me.”

“No, Jigsaw,” Domino assured, restarting the flight forward. “You’re the catalyst for us being up here, after all, and these two are gonna have to kiss your ass, too. Shockingly, or maybe not, you’ve got more to lose from this than I do.”

“Damn straight,” Jigsaw agreed, coincidentally scratching under her eyepatch, “but this is worth it. Curio’s like my own blood, even if she’s a sporadic dunce. Though, Dom, I could’ve swiped an amphibian if I’d known we’d be making an aquatic rescue.”

“Trust me; I would’ve let you do it, too, if we weren’t sent a sprinkle of a signal of her attempting to not drown on our way here, wherever this is.”

“Wait,” Glyph interjected, looking back and forth between the intimidating pilot and the one-eyed wonder. “You don’t know where this is? Neither of you has any idea?”

Jigsaw scoffed, sinking into her seat in preparation for whatever explanation Glyph was going to throw back. “I suppose that you do? Ha! Who am I kidding? I doubt it. You barely know what you got etched on your own back.”

Domino concurred with a snarky chuckle. “For real, and by the way, I really meant both of you back there, G: a duo of dolts, you are. If Curio knew how to not speak like she had marbles in her mouth while reading off those runes, she and thus we all wouldn’t be here right now. But, then again, the cause-and-effect line drawn has no forks, and where did it start?”

“I know; I know!” Glyph huffed, crossing her arms over themselves. “Please, for the love of all that is good, don’t tell me twice. I get this is my fault, but, seriously, do you have any idea where you’re going, Dom? Have you – don’t mind the pun – been running on autopilot this whole time?”

The wordplay was enough of a grievance on its own, but the nuances laced with it set Domino off on a larger bout of bothers, so much so that she followed Glyph’s insinuations, putting the helicopter on autopilot and turning to face her brazen companion head-on.

“So, what if I say yes, huh?” Domino probed, full of smug annoyance. “I’ve been making a beeline toward where Curio’s portal let out and nothing else. My proper reading of the runes put us a bit far from the mark, but you know that. Good thing this tin can was fueled up.”

“You’re welcome, by the way,” spouted a sassy Jigsaw, not necessarily wanting to be heard but needing to let the world know.

“Anyway,” Domino resumed to Glyph, making sure to roll her eyes with a smirk meant for their backseat buddy, “we may not be able to see Curio on the scanner, but we know where her portal was, and we’re getting crazy close by the looks of it. Why do you care how we got here if we, well, got here?”

“I don’t care how we got here!” Glyph clarified. “I care about where we’re going, and despite everything that you two have been saying about our destination, I’m ninety-nine percent sure of one thing.” She pointed out of the cabin at the only place their friend could’ve ended up, given her abilities and if all went circumstantially well, now just in front and below them. “That is not water.”

“For goodness’ sake, Glyph!” Jigsaw had had enough being an audience member, plus her lacking eyesight helped with nothing for getting any context to where Glyph’s glances were focused. Thus, she found herself swinging up to the front, squeezed between her buddies – Glyph’s side shielded in darkness but not enough to cloud her outstretched arm and hand – to see what was up and combat them. “What are you on…?”

She was going to combat her if there was anything to combat. But as it turned out, there wasn’t anything to fight. Glyph was one-hundred percent right. It sure wasn’t water, and just a few seconds later, she was proven even more correct.

A new, familiar blip appeared on the scanner as their familiar – their curious friend Curio, almost invisible and undetectable in both the vastness of their space and the encroaching darkness of the sky – surfaced in a pool, no, a lake of,

“Acid,” Domino breathed, setting the copter to hover once again with a much lighter approach this time as they stared into the rippling expanse. “That’s straight up acid.”

“What? No!” Glyph coughed in disbelief, turning away from the window ahead and looking at her clan-mate-turned-captain before considering the idea for an instant. “Well, you technically might be right, but it’s not the corrosive kind, I think. I hope. Call me crazy, but with those kinds of bubs popping around down there, I swear that looks more like a vat of tonic: that or soda.”

“Whatever it is,” Jigsaw sighed out of nowhere, catching the other two of the squad off guard, beginning to back away slowly, “I’m not going to be able to go down to get Curio like I thought it was.”

“What? Why do you…?” Domino leaned away from the radar and followed the path of the retreating voice, amazed to see how far back Jigsaw had gotten in such a short period. “Hey, where do think you’re going to get, going back like that? We’re off the ground in a helicopter. Besides the doors being locked, my bathroom’s bigger than this whole cabin.”

“I know that. But, trust me, I… cannot go down there. It just—Ugh, damn it.” As if the Fates were testing or humoring that theory, Jigsaw found herself clumsily crashing into the wall of tools and whatnot, making several of them fall to her feet. “No matter what this gear is supposed to protect us from,” she declared, plucking the fallen items one by one with on and off squats, “none of it will aid me down there.”

Domino raised an eyebrow at the idea, particularly when the sassy cyclops’ hands ran over a set of goggles for blocking chemical bursts.

“Is your eye still too gammy to risk a liquid leak?” she figured, believing Jigsaw was trying to fly over her greatest sensitivity, receiving a gasp of astonishment from Glyph as a result.

“Um…” The direct probe at their patched part was expected in the back of Jigsaw’s mind – frankly, it’s always expected – but the rest of her psyche didn’t consider the consideration to be upheld. So, for it to just be thrown into the air was, for lack of a better word, uncomfortable. “Well… it doesn’t help the scenario. Thanks for bringing it up.”

“You know what I mean. I just don’t see—Ugh, mind the pun. I can’t figure why you’d find yourself unfit to make some moves.”

“Dom, I don’t need both eyes to see why, but, frankly, you do. As great as it is that all you’re looking for is Curio’s safety, can you do your best to expand that and look out for all of us?”

Domino was becoming angered by Jigsaw’s claims – eyes turning as red as the skies surrounding them all. But, after seeing how her taller, depth-deficient gal pal was genuinely concerned about her own safety for once versus everyone else’s, sounding confident that she and thus they all would fail, Domino’s scarlet scleras faded back to white as she calmed herself and decided to comply with Jigsaw’s wishes.

A sigh escaped her lips as she ran her hands over her heated face and sat back straight in her pilot’s chair to take in the entirety of the vista the autopilot had to offer the aerial trio. Yet, rather than being able to tell the others off, Domino could only join their shared succumbing to dread.

***

Emerging from the effervescent, rune-spouted portal, the person-patrolling crew were met with the first-calm, now-ominous quiet of nature at dusk: the copter’s rotors and scanners and the ladies’ internal clocks being the sole shifts in the silence. The warm colors of the sky and wispy clouds way up above aligned perfectly with the intense heat emanating around them. Acknowledgments of them being cooked in their toaster of a helicopter and its warping on the hub controls had gotten so old so early in their travels that any further utterance of it would probably ignite a full-on brawl.

The view of the dimly sunlit suburbia far below was normal enough to be a tranquil distraction long ago: a nice, new sight to see in comparison to the Gothic aesthetic of the clan’s castle of a clubhouse. The bustling metropolis in the distance reminded them of the one with which they were familiar and the frequent long-distance commutes to and from it, whereas the collective of abodes in the adjacent neighborhoods resonated more with their sweeter days before their coming together as teens.

Now, encroaching on their thirties or burrowed comfortably within them in eldest Jigsaw’s case, they had been through hell and back too many times to count with multitudes of knowledge from almost two decades of work continually building with each new excursion. So, the concerns they had when the aerial view of high rises and homes already seemed extensively stretched and detailed, despite being up so high and flying so far, weren't just from their current heated, hostile hysteria.

The altimeter had sworn that the copter was multiple kilometers above the ground, yet the ladies could count every single brick, shingle, and plank of siding on every building they passed without any struggle. At home at the same height, doing so – flying and observing – would’ve been impossible without any technical or magical assistance, yet here they were doing both. One look at the controls showed that no window magnification was in place, but with the heat setting everything and everyone aflame, who was to say that was true?

From the surprisingly legible words on billboard-sized yard signs and city block-sized, actual billboards to the style of the infinite, unreachable skyline and further mountains beyond, their current location couldn’t have been very different than that of their home base, castle compound and all. The closer they were getting to reaching Curio, the harder it was hitting way too close to home, making her quick, exact rescue even more necessary but difficult with every second.

Because in the particular direction that they were going, there wasn’t much of a transition in the locale. The main city continually greeted its silhouetted self to their right with the start of suburbia guarding it, while their left showed that they were definitely deep in the thick of it. One by one, they had passed fraternal duplicate homes that wouldn't have made anyone bat an eyelash if it weren't for their immensity. They all looked generic but fitting for their location, places someone could see themselves raising a family. Well, most of them did.

One looked like it had the potential, but it was shadowed by a mess of danger for the ladies and a literal mess, similar to the ones they left at home to get here. Of course, it was the one that contained Curio.

It was as though the place was innately calling out to the trio and the rest of the world that it was special, aka someone was there that really shouldn't be. This home – well, as much of it that was visible, given they never were above a gutter – broke away from the stained Pickett fence aesthetic, choosing to block off its space with disgustingly manicured hedges except the back wall that was literally a brick, back wall. Disgusting, it was, because the dissonance between their pristine uniformity and all they corralled was appalling.

Disregarding the only visible vehicle aside from their own adjacent to the home, looking like an alien invasion that could engorge an entire town, multiple obstacles were scattered across the nature reserve that someone somewhere called a backyard that could've easily (and still could) wrought harm to the heroes in the helicopter. An alien's ignorance would've been most appreciated when scanning over them to not know for sure that they were threatening. In any other context, they wouldn't have been, but seeing how they had already been used (and used harshly) and how many there were in style and number, they couldn’t have come at a worse time.

The array of bright baubles and broken bottles inferred quite the feedback loop they fed to each other. But, in truth, there was nothing like relaxing in the backyard with friends playing throwing or ball games with one hand and a full glass of something pungent and throat-piercing going down your gullet with the other.

Lo and behold, the superfluous brick wall perched the latter, one made of plastic and full of some perceived potable in which the missing, comparably miniature miss Curio treaded for her life at the awe of three, close clan mates.

Next: sometime, eventually... probably... I don't know... Read this journal for an "explanation". You want more? Fucking push me. Hi, I'm Domino. It's nice to meet you. /s

#g/t #my writing #deviantart #party foul #sw #magic #spies #helicopter #rescue #rescue mission

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forgetspecifics · 7 years ago

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Once upon a midnight dreary (Bumbleby one-shot)

Written on commission from @boom-a-yang. Shout-out for being the first one to take a chance on me with paid writing. Word count: 3,754

Other links: Ao3 FF.net

Notes: I was given a choice of 4 prompts; it’s written at the end as to not spoil anything.

“Yang,” a voice said quietly, no other sound but the humming of the refrigerator permeating the night’s silence. That was, apart from the incessant tap tap tap at the front door.

The voice tried again, this time louder, small hands shaking awake the heavy sleeper. “Yang!”

A groan signified consciousness from the lump under the duvet, a head of luscious blonde hair rising from its slumber. “What is it? Ruby?” The tired questions came, dazed and confused.

Indeed it was Ruby, Yang’s younger half-sister, pulling her out of dreamland. “Someone’s at the door, they keep knocking,” she informed, looking over her shoulder towards the front door. It was hidden by a divider that formed Yang’s bedroom in their open-plan apartment, yet, Ruby could not help her eyes wandering over there while Yang composed herself.

“The fuck? What time is it?” Yang asked, hauling herself out of bed and into the small kitchen with a glowing digital clock, the device rudely piercing the darkness and hurting her eyes. “It’s one in the morning, damn it,” the older sister was not happy in the slightest.

Ruby appeared behind her, her hushed voice not even close to the average whisper. “It sounded frantic, but you sleep like the dead, and you told me-”

“To not open the door if I was asleep in case you get murdered or something,” Yang finished reciting the rule she had drilled into Ruby’s head (she was at least pleased it had worked). “Ya-huh, I remember. I don’t hear any-”

Knock knock knock.

The two young women stopped in their tracks, mouths shut, testing whatever visitor was interrupting their rest. It wasn’t long before the noise started up again, rapping at the wood faster than the instance a minute ago.

Finally coming completely to, Yang’s annoyance returned. “What is this, an Edgar Allan Poe poem? The only way I’m not gonna be pissed off is if it’s a bird with brain damage waking me up,” she muttered, being cautious to retrieve her knuckledusters from their odds-and-ends drawer in the kitchen. Who knew what awaited her on the other side of that door? She had no other means to protect her and her sister, and their apartment wasn’t exactly in the fanciest neighbourhood nor was it the most secure.

That was their general problem – she couldn’t afford a two bedroom apartment, and there was a lack of luxury in their current one, with no peep-hole in their front door and a broken security chain (that she now wished she’d fixed last week, instead of putting it off).

“Get behind me,” she ushered Ruby with her left arm, who had found her own weapon, their old baseball bat. Smart kid, she mentally praised, before preparing for the worst. She just wanted to sleep, and that meant ridding themselves of the nuisance knocking – impending danger be damned. It also could be someone dying, looking for help, so that motivated her just as much.

Counting down from three, Yang swung the door open in an instant to avoid being rushed and knocked down. The hand that was still poised in mid-air outside their door stopped from surprise as they were greeted by two girls; fists raised and a shoddy wooden bat ready to swing.

The moment passed quickly as recognition between the party inside and the party outside registered, the person at the door throwing themselves bodily at Yang.

The blonde barely had time to react, but managed to not topple over with the added weight. “You scared the shit out of us, Blake,” she was relieved it was only her friend and not a psychopath that was currently clinging to her – but she was still wondering what was going on.

She felt moisture on her chest and small sniffles coming from her black-haired Faunus friend, hastily wrapping her arms, knuckledusters and all, around the slightly shorter frame. “Wait, hey, what’s wrong?”

Now she was worried. It should have been immediate; realising that something wasn’t right. Blake never showed up uninvited (let alone at one a.m.), wasn’t a touchy-feely person, and barely showed emotion most of the time. They were complete opposites in those ways, but still valued each other highly – and she knew it was more than Blake liked to admit.

“I scared you?” Blake finally said, louder than the neighbours probably would have preferred. She was taken inside by Yang, not bothering to resist as she was lifted up without their embrace disturbed. Ruby had backed off seeing the face of a friend, setting her bat down by the door as she closed it. The light from the moon outside was blocked, leaving her little choice but switching on a light.

The sisters then shared a look over the crying girl’s shoulder as Yang held her. Ruby’s face clearly asked for an explanation, but there was none. Silently mouthing back that she didn’t know, Yang simply handed over her weapon and began the comforting process she’d developed and mastered while raising Ruby.

It only took a few moments of moving her palms up and down Blake’s spine to get her to relax a bit, the grip on her tank top loosening. Admittedly Yang had hesitation, having never before hugged Blake for more than a few seconds – she’d have to write this down as a new record on her mental scoreboard.

It usually wouldn’t have mattered; she had no problem respecting people’s personal bubbles, but there was something about Blake that made Yang always wish for more contact. She’d never been able to figure out if she was simply being weird. The answer had finally come as she found that they fit together like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. Blake was at least a few inches shorter than her without the ridiculous high heels she liked to wear, as she was still clearly wearing her pyjamas and slippers in her apparent haste to get over to the sisters’ apartment. Which meant her face...was buried in her cleavage.

Yang quickly leaned her upper body away, not even sure that this was the same Blake she had befriended. “What’s gotten into you?”

She must have said it the wrong way, because Blake pushed her away with a strength Yang didn’t expect. “Yang Xiao Long, how dare you.” The Faunus’ usually bright golden eyes were sullen, and the redness present clearly showed she had been crying long before arriving.

Yang wasn’t sure how to respond. The phrase usually indicated she’d done something she shouldn’t have, yet the tone wasn’t accusatory. But Blake was staring, so she had to say something. “Uh, I don’t-”

“I had a terrible nightmare about you,” Blake left no room for her to respond, obviously upset, but seemingly unsure of herself now that they were face-to-face.

Yang could hear the forced calm in her voice, her brain falling further behind in regards to why Blake was acting concerned beyond anything she’d ever expressed before. She’d had a dream and her most reasonable reaction was to physically check up on her at one in the morning?

“Oh,” was all Yang could say, not really finding any answer that would better serve the situation.

Blake’s face fell in an instant and Yang knew she’d said the wrong thing again.

“What am I doing?” Blake unnaturally forced a laugh out, stepping aside to make a beeline for the door. “I shouldn’t have come here-”

“No, it’s okay, really,” Yang worked equally fast to take Blake’s hand to prevent her from going anywhere. She should have been more sensitive – just because she was baffled didn’t mean that Blake hadn’t shown up in tears obviously seeking comfort. Which was what she would get. “Ruby, can you boil some water?”

The brunette, who was observing with her own wonder, nodded and padded over to the small kitchen, knowing exactly what Yang was thinking. Tea for Blake; something for her hands to hold and to distract her. While Blake was closer to Yang, Ruby still knew her pretty well. In fact, Yang was the closest to Blake out of all their friends, much to the confusion of Weiss. I don’t know how you can bear her awful jokes, Blake, was something the petite heiress said often.

Yang lead Blake by the hand to her bedroom. She hated calling it a bedroom when it wasn’t a room at all, just a double bed in a corner surrounded by privacy screens, but that was just the way things were. Yang didn’t mind giving Ruby her own room; as long as she could sleep she was good.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” Yang coaxed over the sound of a rumbling kettle, pulling her friend down to sit on the mattress and mussed bedcovers.

Blake fidgeted, zoning out and scanning the not-room; the two solid walls devoid of art while the makeshift walls were tacked with a never-ending supply of pictures of friends and family, and the floor littered with laundry and shoes. Yang had a lot of shoes. She was brought back by a gentle touch on her arm; warm and soft. Yang was warm and soft, the designated mom-friend, but also a kind and generous individual that was considerate of everyone she cared about.

Right, that’s why she was here. To see Yang. “Y- you were in my dream and... I tried calling you, and it went straight to voicemail. I had to come all this way.”

Knowing its shrill tone would have woken her, Yang pondered. “My phone didn’t ring. I put it on to charge before I went to sleep,” she crawled to her beside table to find the power cable dangling precariously in the charge port, evidently indicating she had failed to do as she claimed. The phone was devoid of life as she attempted to turn it on. “I didn’t plug it in properly, it’s dead.”

Her words again had the opposite of the intended effect, causing Blake to make small wail and bury her head in her hands. Yang had never scrambled on all fours so quickly in her life, wrapping Blake in a hug, feeling like she really had done something she shouldn’t have.

“Blake, calm down. Everything’s fine, it was just a bad dream,” she repeated her earlier process, Blake turning into her chest as the kettle finally came to a boil and tuned off with a click in the background.

“It felt so real. I had to make sure you were okay.”

Yang had to listen closely to catch the mumbled words as they were sufficiently...muffled. She tried not to think about Blake’s face in her cleavage, and to think about the real issue. It seemed that something had happened to her in Blake’s dream, something bad enough to shake the normally stoic girl.

She needed to hear more. “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

Blake didn’t answer right away, and she didn’t move. It felt like an eternity had passed when she finally did speak. “I saw you die, Yang. It was so horrible, I don’t even remember waking up because I was in tears, and-”

“Hey, c’mon now. You don’t have to explain yourself, you were scared,” Yang had heard enough. She knew that Blake didn’t have the most carefree childhood, and that she tended to overthink a lot of things. “Try not to think about what you saw and focus on me.” Yang had figured out over the years that reassurance had to be given quickly, before Blake’s overthinking turned into self-blame, but luckily (or because of her persistence) Blake had come to trust her enough to open up more – instead of pretending nothing was wrong.

Blake’s hands only moved to encircle Yang’s waist, the Faunus thinking herself better off anchored, in case somehow either of them slipped away into oblivion. Still, she wasn’t sure that she could forget what had unfolded right in front of her.

“What if you’re just a dream too?” Her imagination wasn’t always her friend and her mind was often fooled by it.

There was an easy answer to that, but Yang was never one to give the easy answers. “Then you dream about me an awful lot.” She couldn’t help but smile; the thought that Blake’s subconscious was fond of her made her a tiny bit giddy, a familiar feeling she always had when making teasing jokes and comments that elicited a smirk from Blake that she always tried to hide.

“I do not,” Blake said, not bothering to even look at Yang, no doubt hiding her amusement.

Yang continued with her sarcastic wit, satisfied it would distract Blake from her worries. “Wouldn’t want me to know how much you like me, right?”

This time, Blake detached herself, rolling her eyes. “Real or not, you’re insufferable,” she felt better already, her retort rolling off her tongue easily.

Ending their verbal sparring match before it could really begin, Ruby entered the space. “Hey, Blake,” she handed the Faunus a mug of brewed tea, who accepted it gratefully.

Letting the warmth of the cup spread to her hands, Blake gave the younger sister an apologetic smile. “Ruby, I’m sorry for waking you both.”

Ruby, being Ruby, waved it off. Blake was a good friend of theirs. “It’s no big deal. Yang’s really good at this stuff,” she knew that everyone, including herself, could turn to her big sister if they needed to.

Blake nodded, bringing her tea to her lips, her face changing to one of scepticism as she drank. “This is my favourite tea,” she stated, glancing at Yang.

“Yup,” the blonde replied, thinking nothing of it.

“I thought you said this was your favourite tea, sis,” Ruby too grew sceptical, having already been suspicious when Yang had randomly started to drink tea years ago.

Yang was a terrible liar, and it was a well-known fact. She was cornered by her traitorous sibling, and all she could do was grimace as she was caught red-handed.

Ruby grinned sneakily, as she always did when finding something to tease Yang about. “I knew you only started drinking tea because of Blake,” she’d always thought that Blake was the reason, but had no way of proving it – she’d suddenly got lucky, and seeing her big sister blush was incredibly rewarding.

“Yeah, well!” Yang decided to bring out the big guns. “You only study when Weiss is looking, you nerd!”

Ruby gasped, indignant at the accusation. “Weiss is scary! Blake isn’t!” She turned to shrug at Blake, “no offence.”

“None taken,” Blake sat back and watched the sibling rivalry with amusement.

Yang, being the slightly more mature one, shook her head at the ridiculousness of the whole thing. Arguing when they should have been sleeping, especially Ruby, whom she didn’t like to know was losing sleep. “I think everything’s under control now, Rubes. You can go back to bed.”

Sensing the deliberateness in her words, Ruby couldn’t really argue with that. Still, she couldn’t help but still be concerned about her friend. “Are you feeling better, Blake?”

“Much better, in fact,” Blake gave her a small smile over her tea cup, feeling slightly more guilty about keeping the younger girl up than she did about bothering Yang.

“Glad to hear it. Goodnight, guys.”

Bidding her goodnight in return, Blake and Yang were then enveloped in the gravity of what had transpired. Late night comforting had definitely been a first for them, but neither of them could really complain.

Yang turned on her lamp, getting up to shut off the ceiling light that had illuminated most of the large room before. The soft glow reminded her of how late it was, feeling the urge to nod off invade her senses.

“Speaking of going back to bed,” she said jokingly, trying to segue into the topic without implying she blamed Blake for anything.

But of course, Blake couldn’t hide the way her cat ears folded down. “I’ve put you out, I’m sorry. I really should get going-”

“No, that’s not what I meant,” Yang backpedalled, racing back to Blake’s side. “Just lay back for a bit, I don’t mind.”

“You don’t?” Blake put her tea down on the nightstand, unsure of how to proceed. Deep down, she hoped that Yang didn’t, despite her nervousness. She was used to Yang’s kindness, but was still feeling undeserving of it, and unfamiliar with how she craved close proximity with the blonde.

“Not at all,” as if that wasn’t enough, Yang relaxed into her pillows, pulling Blake down along with her.

Blake merely squeaked in surprise, but made no protest. Instead of her head finding a pillow, she was aware that it had landed on Yang’s shoulder. Yang chuckled slightly, readjusting her arm so she had Blake in a side-hug, feeling content with the decision as her friend made no effort to move. Revelling in Yang’s natural body-heat, Blake tried to push away how she’d sworn she could feel the coldness of the Yang in her dream. She couldn’t stop herself asking aloud, “What do you think it means? My dream?”

“It doesn’t mean anything bad is going to happen,” Yang said quietly, hating that Blake might be blaming herself for something that she had no control over. Blake didn’t respond, so she gave a more definitive answer. “If anything, and excuse my smugness, it means you’re afraid to lose me.” Yang was aware that she was often borderline flirting with Blake, but it came so naturally to her. From the very beginning, she’d felt some evel of attraction to the mysterious girl, and it had never really gone away.

That elicited a sigh from Blake. “Of course you’re smug,” she didn’t deny the suggestion; not ever bothered with the way Yang seemed to push the boundaries of their friendship. It was almost as if there were no boundaries to push – which was odd considering how guarded Blake was when it came to most people.

“I’ll never let you live it down, Blakey.” The smirk was tangible in Yang’s words. Whether it was from the teasing or the nickname, Blake would never know.

“Don’t call me that,” Blake automatically scolded her. They lay there for a beat or two, playfulness ebbing away into companionable silence. Still, Blake wondered about why she’d actually needed such reassurance over a stupid dream. “You don’t think I overreacted?”

“Nope,” Yang said with conviction, making sure to hug Blake a little tighter. “I’m touched that you felt you had to see me with your own eyes.”

Blake had nothing to say to that. It sounded genuine, and at that very second, she’d never felt more grateful that she’d met Yang. She retrieved her cup of tea, thankful for whatever forces that rewarded her with the friends she’d found, happy to savour her favourite brew...and the presence of her friend.

It was a fair while before she saw the bottom of her cup, the warmth having faded from it. She still had Yang, though, who hadn’t made a peep the entire time. Blake turned her head to see the blonde struggling to keep her own upright, lilac eyes fluttered shut.

“Yang,” Blake said gently, the stark opposite of the way Ruby had woken her earlier.

Yang slowly cracked one eye open. “’Sup?”

Blake smiled fondly at the effort Yang had gone to for her this very early morning. “You’re almost falling asleep. I’ve overstayed my welcome.”

“Nuh-uh. It’s too late for you to go home, you can just crash here,” Yang blindly grabbed for her duvet to slip under, but paused when Blake made no move to follow. “You’re totally welcome in my bed,” she held the blanket up, her offer not really made to refuse.

“I had no idea you were that desperate to get me into bed,” Blake remarked, putting aside her empty cup. It was easier to tease Yang when she wasn’t on her game, and a sleepy Yang was very much off her game.

“And I had no idea you dreamed about me,” Yang said, not missing a beat. Maybe she wasn’t entirely off her game. Yet, it sounded more like a happy revelation than anything else.

The Faunus once again deflected as she settled herself into the mattress. “I’m willing to bet good money that you dream about me too.” Betting money was something that Yang loved to do, especially with Nora (that girl was crazy). But to her surprise, her challenge was not met.

“You can’t prove nothin’, Belladonna,” Yang reached out from the covers to switch off the lamp, bathing them in black.

Blake let her eyes adjust, watching Yang closely as her already drowsy state took over once again. Instead of betting against her, Yang hadn’t even denied it. Her answer was ambiguous at best, prompting Blake to wonder if that had meant at all to sound like an admission that, yes, Yang did dream about her.

Blake knew that her brain would work overtime when it came to interpreting the things that came out of Yang’s mouth, always hoping that she never took offhanded comments the wrong way. Yet, this time, she had a gut feeling she’d gotten it right.

Yang, who was steadily drifting off, almost jumped as her hand was brushed against. Fingertips curled around her palm with a featherweight touch. “What’re you doing?” Blake never held her hand – not unless Yang made her, and that was rare in itself.

“I’d rather not have another nightmare, so, now I’ll know you’re still here.”

Well, that was a contender for the most adorable thing Yang had ever heard in her life. Since they’d already knocked down the wall of physical contact tonight, she didn’t feel one bit guilty moving over to be Blake’s big spoon. “There. Nothing to worry about, now.” Her hand was guided into a hug around Blake’s waist as the Faunus snuggled the slightest bit towards her. If she had had any idea how fond Blake was going to become of her tonight, she would have prepared herself. Wrote a speech, maybe.

“Thank you,” Blake didn’t say what for, but she didn’t have to.

And a speech might have been overkill, Yang realised. They seemed to communicate better with fewer words that held more meaning and intention, like it was their own language. And unspoken words were the most valuable thing of all.

“I’ll be here when you wake up, Blake.”

And it took all of Yang’s willpower to not make a sound when she woke up the next morning to a rumbling purr on her chest.

Prompt: Imagine that Person A isn’t normally the emotional type. One night, however, they show up at Person B’s place, eyes red from crying. Turns out they had a vivid nightmare about Person B dying, and they wanted to make sure their friend/crush/datefriend/whatever was okay. Person B is touched by this rare display of emotion from A, and they let A stay with them for the night.

I liked this AU so you might see it again one day.

#rwby #rwby fanfiction #rwby fanfic #bumbleby #bumbleby fanfiction #bumbleby fanfic #rwby bumblebee #yang xiao long art #blake belladonna #au #au fic #gentle gays #commission fic #boom-a-yang

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wordsablaze · 7 years ago

Text

Living Death In The Moment

Simon Lewis has been through a lot but never has he had to balance all his troubles completely alone, hiding his pain so deep that only the sun and moon know his true emotions... angsty simon-centric piece because his life really isn't fair, enjoy!

A/N: I promise i love Simon really, but i have feels... Not sure if I'm happy with this but I’m posting as otherwise i never will...

It had never occurred to Simon that loneliness would hurt the most.

Pain isn't new to him.

He's been targeted by bullies, he's fallen off his bike, he's seen his mother crumple under the power of hopelessness, and he's watched his best friend leave him behind without a moment's hesitation. Said best friend had apologised and he'd understood that circumstance had made things worse than they actually were so being impulsive had been the only option, but that's not the point. Pain can't really be a foreign concept to someone who's had to climb out of their own grave but, now, he can't help but think he'd been so blind, so naïve, so clueless to think he had any idea at all.

It's funny, he notes, how pain always finds a way to become stronger, to become deadlier, to become so much worse than the worst. He'd never imagined such pain but, as he looks around the small room he'd called his bedroom for the better part of his childhood, he can't think of a time when the world didn't feel like it was crumbling around him, a time when everything was alright.

Raking a shaky hand through his hair, he sighs, wondering where it had all gone wrong and why. Maybe it was when peer pressure made him drink from Heidi or maybe it was when he was foolish enough to try and stay in touch with his family but, regardless, he's stuck in some kind of liminal space between clinging to his past and letting go of it entirely.

It's like time isn't applicable to him right now because he could swear the sun had just set but now it's shining brightly at the top of the sky and ruining the pathetic fallacy of his apartment. If Clary was here, he thinks, she might have drawn a sun with his face on it to make him laugh. Then they'd joke about nostalgia and he'd scribble something to tell her he's grateful and she'd hug him, sending him one of her genuinely warm smiles... but she's not here and she probably won't ever be because he might have killed her. She, just like everyone else he loves, is gone and it's all his fault.

Her surprised smile flashes before his eyes and he groans, grabbing his phone and calling, calling Maia because he doesn't know what to do anymore. He's not disappointed when she doesn't pick up, she'd warned him she'd be out of contact and the number was more so he knew not to ignore her calls, but a part of him is so frustrated that he doesn't even notice when the metal bends under his fingers. He does, however, notice when tiny shards of glass dig into his skin and sharp pain becomes his most prominent thought.

"I can't even blame the stupid mark for this one," he says quietly, then sighs, dropping the remains of his phone.

As much as he wants to, he can't go back to his mother and ask her to just smile and tell him she loves him because, to her, he's dead. And he is dead, but not in the way she thinks he is, the way she only thinks he is because he hadn't been strong enough to try and persuade her he isn't evil.

Something inside of him screams in agony – probably his heart – as he crosses everyone off his mental list of who to try and find. He can't go to Hotel Dumort because Raphael is gone and he doesn't know if the clan will accept him back, especially not when he has a brutal defence system installed on his head. He'd feel too guilty going to any of the Lightwoods, especially since one of them is barely alive – it doesn't help that he's probably made the worst impressions on every Shadowhunter in the city. They don't have any reason to help him so he sees no point in proving their belief in his weakness right.

Magnus, in spite of the ridiculous names he uses, has always made himself an option for when advice or a shoulder to cry on is needed but he can't bring himself to go because Magnus has enough on his hands, even more so since his hands aren't magical at the minute. He hates himself for not being able to help his favourite warlock but there's no way he can do anything without being a danger until he gets himself under control.

Any other time, Luke would know something was wrong and he could tell him anything but, with Clary gone and Maryse de-runed, he figures Luke has enough to worry about without him adding to the mess. It's not like he's an urgent problem that needs to be solved; he's just an infinite jigsaw that fails to abide by the laws of logic.

He leaves.

He leaves his room and his confusion behind and runs, runs as far as he can manage without keeling over. Of course, he keels over eventually, but, by then, he's in an area he can't recognise. Somehow, it makes him feel better. His unnecessary breathing comes easier as he collapses under a conveniently-angled blossom tree.

It's ridiculous how quickly the sun is throwing its red and purple glow over him, the shadows of light falling over his hands and looking like blood stains. This only makes it so much worse, reminds him of the potential blood on his hands, makes the world all seem so much more fleeting and fragile. He wishes he could turn back time to when breaking his glasses was the biggest worry of his life. He wishes he could go back to when the name of his band was on his mind more than the tastes of different blood groups. He wishes he could pretend nothing had happened to the oblivious life he'd been more or less happily living.

His wishes are in vain.

No matter how hard he wants to forget this new, unpredictable side of the world, he won't ever be able to and he knows it. He thinks about it all night, watching as the moon comes and goes with as much ease as his composure. In the morning, he settles on leaving behind his crossroads and sitting down.

He's been so focused on trying to move on, trying to build himself a life, that he hasn't stopped to consider he might be all he has.

And so, he smiles. He smiles and grins and babbles on about nothing in particular. He smiles and laughs and takes the eye-rolls in his stride. He smiles and does what people ask and pretends he's okay with not knowing who he is. He's friends with everybody but friends with nobody. He's a child of the shadows walking in the light where he shouldn't belong but keeps going to anyway. He's facetious and nonchalant on the outside because his heart is too heavy to carry on his sleeve so it stays inside of him, where it can't weigh anyone but him down.

He's dead in more ways than one but that doesn't stop him being the life of the party.

It's a party nobody had been invited to and nobody had seen coming, one that nobody had been aware of until it had finished and restarted but a party that they can't leave until the party allows it. He makes the most of it, drinking (blood) and dancing (his way around questions with words) each day, pretty sure that the sun and moon - which he watches every night because sleep is incredibly rare for him now - can probably tell he's constantly on edge but no-one else can, and that's what matters.

In the end, he chooses to dismiss his anguish entirely and fold his problems up, tucking them away from the world and anybody else who might see them. Slowly but surely, he crushes his anxieties and buries them under puns and jokes and references to a culture for which he is the only representative. His walls are built of faux-confidence and superficial optimism but nothing stops him from trying to hide his pain and pretend it doesn't even exist because if there's one thing Simon Lewis is, it's good at living life in the moment.

Well, living death in the moment.

Like/reblog but don’t repost, thanks!

#simon lewis #simon-centric #shadowhunters #fanfiction #angst #hurt no comfort #simon x everyone #unhealthy coping mechanism honestly #i have feels #maia roberts #lightwood siblings #luke garroway #magnus bane #hurt simon lewis #lditm #my writing #mostly my emotions #sorry?#raphael santiago

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eeveelutionsforequality · 7 years ago

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So, in the UK sexual fictional anime characters are forbidden and now depicting domestic and child abuse in a video game is also forbidden, because virtual children need protection, too, and abusers will think their behaviour is ok, even though it's seen through the eyes of the victim and you're supposed to feel for them. Why are we bringing back these old discussions?

http://www.cps.gov.uk/legal/l_to_o/obscene_publications/

http://thestudentlawyer.com/2014/05/27/what-is-an-obscene-publication/

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Obscene_Publications_Act_1959

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Legal_status_of_drawn_pornography_depicting_minors

I first learnt about the obscene publications act while reading Clockwork Orange, and there was one of those 'about' sections at the beginning that you get in new editions of old books, and it explained how publishers were concerned that the laws would prevent the book from being published.

I learnt about the legal status of loli in the UK by googling it myself out of curiosity.

They don't teach us these things, they don't even prevent the selling of explicit anime. And, I think what people misunderstand most - it's not tagged on to extend the conviction for actual CP, it's prosecuted alone. In fact, a guy was given a nine month suspended sentence for manga alone and told that it would've been longer had he had actual CP - insinuating some kind of link between, or increased likelihood of, actual CP being viewed just because loli is viewed, as if they were warning him or something, it's ridiculous.

These laws are pushed through by pressure and money from children's charities (charities that, literally from experience I can tell you, many times will screw over actual abused kids and spend way too much cash on advertising), while writers and creators stand there going "This isn't helping anyone and you're just trying to stifle creativity".

Also remember the limits on pornography in the UK:

http://www.independent.co.uk/life-style/gadgets-and-tech/news/porn-websites-sites-pages-videos-internet-adult-uk-digital-economy-bill-a7433551.html

https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2016/nov/23/censor-non-conventional-sex-acts-online-internet-pornography

The UK is completely absorbed in this idea that the media we take in will influence us - we have our social problems, and instead of addressing the class issues and other causes, they're using them as an excuse to censor.

I live on a council estate, if I call the police there's a chance they won't even come, if they do it could take hours. There are kids here (I'm talking teens and pre-teens) on drugs, they walk down the alley past my window talking about who gave who a blowjob, they drink alcohol, they throw fireworks and flashbangs at people, they set fires - I've lived in places like this most of my life, because that's what being poor is like here.

The problem in this country isn't video games or books about dark topics - for most kids, those things are a release and a fun escape from reality - the problem is that some of us have to go without dinners to afford one of those games because we're fuckin' poor.

But, if you honestly want to know why we're still having these discussions... the tories, unfortunately (not that I think for a second that Labour would do better, both suck atm). They want to cut disability benefits, keep wages low, boost their own pay, populate the prisons, sue creators for more money, and make everything prim and proper, while using a scapegoat to hide the fact that it's their policies that are exacerbating the problem.

Every few years we have to fight the groups that want to demonize media, the difference is that we don't have free speech here, we don't have the constitution, we don't have adequate journalistic integrity, and it's the people with the money - some of whom got said money by funding massive ad campaigns full of false promises that preyed upon people's compassion for the vulnerable - who are pushing this stuff, while they demonize the poor people by calling us "chavs" and "benefits scroungers", blaming the struggles we have on us and on the media we take in instead of on the utter ruin they trapped the lower classes in.

What the UK needs, on the most basic level and to begin with, is inalienable free speech rights, an improvement to the class issues and the economy, and a better benefits system that can provide opportunities for education to those on benefits, in a career path that suits their specific needs, while not allowing the current abuses of the child support benefits that encourage poor people to mass produce children in exchange for money and perpetuating the cycle of poverty.

What we don't need is people getting arrested/fined/censored for watching anime, for fisting on camera, for daring to create a story that victims can relate to, and we really don't need there to be quotas on how many people need to be arrested/fined, because at the moment the police are this unpredictable combination of complacency and overreaction, sitting at the side of the road all day trying to catch people going 1mph over the speed limit because they'll get more people doing that and fill their quota.

And the final piece in the jigsaw is the rise of and power of feminism and socjus in the UK - it's all over the mainstream, the BBC, Channel 4, ITV, etc.

The middle class here is generally closer to the upper class than the working class, but they think of themselves as closer to working class a lot of the time - they also get involved in a lot of charity work and ideological stuff, with a very limited understanding of the issues aside from "I feel bad for these people", but they still cross to the other side of the street when they see a chav, or turn their noses up at the people who shop in Aldi. When working class people disagree with their ideologies and their obsession with the labour party, and point out flaws, they patronize us about our education and tell us that we "just don't understand the issues" or we're "going against [our] own best interests", along with the old slurry of isms.

You know that "grow the middle class" stuff you'll hear them talking about on the news, or that "shrinking middle class" stuff - that's not for the sake of working class people watching, that's not an assurance that our jobs are safe or our benefits system is being improved or our rights are being protected or our struggles addressed, it's pretty much a dogwhistle to middle class people watching. The concerns about the drop in religiosity that are massively discussed are the concerns of the middle class, the working class (and lower) people don't really give a fuck about whether you believe in god or not (in general).

That's, in my humble opinion, why feminism and socjus is growing here - the news programming realized that the middle class was their demographic (while the papers often have a wider variety, so you'll often see the news, or comedy based on the news, bashing a paper for being "for uneducated cretins", what they mean is "it's a poor people paper", while they also bash papers for being "for posh toffs", because they have just as much distaste for the upper class) and it catered to their concerns and their uninformed compassion for people worse off, to further an agenda that the middle class actually think they're doing good by supporting (*cough* communism).

That middle class didn't grow up in the council estates, they grew up safe with burglar alarms and driveways - it's easy to shock them with a scene of a violent video game, it's easy for them not to know about the actual causes of these struggles, and it's easy to use their good intentions against all of us.

TL;DR - We're talking about it because of the shitty prudish government, inadequate freedom of speech, charities spending donations on advertising to raise more donations to pressure the government instead of actually doing their jobs, feminism, manipulation of the middle class' compassion, classism in general, and a scapegoat to avoid discussing class issues.

It's not a conspiracy so much as charities and the news doing what gets them the most profit, then their goals, which go against the actual scientific understanding of these issues, happen to align with the conservative government's goal of making it look like they're doing something useful as they continue to be pricks.

#Mod Vaporeon #this is just a jumble of my opinions #not very well constructed #but yeah it's bullshit #censorship is bullshit #it's not helping anyone and they're doing more harm than good

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majxra · 7 years ago

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Can't You See It's We Who Own The Night?

Read On AO3 / Inspired by Bastille’s We Can’t Stop and @noel-ish ’s paintings

Hajime doesn’t want to be here. He hates parties. All kinds of parties.

And this one seems like the party of a cult, he is currently crashing.

But he may be here for the free alcohol. After all he’s seventeen and broke.

They are all nearly dressed the same: Black clothes. At least one piece they are wearing is black. All of them fit together like a jigsaw puzzle.

And Hajime fits in just fine.

He knows that no one recognizes him, they know that this is the first time he’s here. But there are no vicious glances or hushed whispers. They smile at him, and maybe he’s crazy, but it seems supportive in a way.

No special decorations, no lights glistening between trees. Just an old cabin that looks like it was built by five year olds has fairy lights around it, so even the drunkest people can find it, and a campfire in front of it. There’s also a lake and Hajime doubts it’s a good idea to bring dozens of drunk people here.

Someone sneaks up to him, pushes a red cup with god knows what into his hand, and disappears into the darkness again.

Rationality screams at him to just put it down, but curiosity tackles it and rips it apart.

He raises the cup to smell on the liquor and the biting in his nose can’t mean anything other than that it’s vodka with orange juice. Lots of vodka, judging by the after burn in his nose.

He takes a sip and immediately twists his face up. It’s disgusting.

He takes another sip.

The last rays of the sun dance through the leaves and twigs of the trees, dimming everything in a bronze hue.

He wanders around, maybe seeming a little lost. Watches people interact with one another, dance, talk, flirt. Every once in a while he takes another sip.

He breathes the fresh air in and is more than lucky to be able to not breath polluted city air for once.

The lake is a mesmerizing picture. Lights dancing over small waves caused by the breeze that’s also combing through his hair. It’s like a loving embrace. He closes his eyes and just takes everything in until he feels like falling to the side, even though he’s standing upright.

How much did he drink already?

Bees are swarming through his head, threatening to break out through his ears. The loud music coming from seemingly all around him only makes matters worse.

Too eccentric, too fast, too many beat drops.

He needs far more alcohol to start indulging this.

A simple question pops up in his head and the bees all die.

Why am I even here?

There’s a simple answer too.

Because Kuroo said this is a place for “people like them”.

Hajime doesn’t know what he means by that, but he’s too curious to pass the chance of finding out.

Now, he stands in the middle of a party where the first people are already passed out and Hajime doesn’t know what to do with himself.

He traces the rings on the cup he’s holding while watching the scenery.

It’s like a huge orgy. Kissing people are everywhere. Some look like they are about to have sex right on spot to third. Or maybe even more.

What is this place?

The sun isn’t even fully down and people are already passed out, jumping each other like rabid animals.

What did Kuroo get him into?

Hajime spins around, finally having a mission, something to do: He needs to find the fucker.

He graces the spit exchanging people with one last look and just hopes he won’t find Kuroo in a situation like this. He scrunches his face up at the pure thought.

Kuroo is a private person, maybe he’s hiding somewhere around the lake? But Kuroo is also like a cat and tries his best to get as far away from water as possible.

Hajime once called him hydrophobe. Kuroo didn’t even deny, he just kept smiling into the sun.

So he has to be in the cabin.

Slowly, and already a little unsteady, he wanks over the pebbles guiding the way. The crunching sound beneath his feet seems louder than anything else.

He passes people he’s never seen in his whole life. Moving their bodies to the rhythm of what they consider music. Hazey, dorky smiles are plasterer onto their faces. Hajime can sense that their heads are currently filled with cotton. They don’t have a single care. He can see it in the glistening honesty behind their eyes.

He’s jalouse.

Shaking his head, as if he wouldn’t do the same if he could, he continues his way towards the wooden building that’s looking like it’s straight out of a horror movie. Or at least a thriller.

He can already hear the screams of the teenagers that just wanted to have a good time, but instead got a butcher knife in their guts.

Hajime can see that it was small, maybe 10cm², at first. But someone started to care for the thing. There are so many different kinds of wood nailed to the base cabin. Hajime didn’t even know there were so many kinds of trees. Every plank reflects the fairy lights differently and it’s a beautiful, maybe a little askew, mosaic.

Now he can see why people want to come here.

He walks up the wooden stairs, already bent from all kinds of people stepping onto them. The door is wide open and even in there are people rummaging around.

Hajime just sees strands of black, denying gravity, towering over everyone else and yes, he found Kuroo.

Making his way through the crowd is harder than it seems. He got groped approximately four times, be it on purpose or not, he doesn’t know, slapped or somehow beaten six times and got drinks spilled over himself maybe nine times. By the time he reaches Kuroo he just wants to turn around again and go home.

That was enough physical contact for a year.

“I knew you would come,” Kuroo mentions with a shady smile Hajime just wants to punch it off his face. Kuroo makes a leap and slides gracefully over the countertop, he’s been standing behind mere seconds ago.

He throws a limb arm around Hajime and leans in. His hot breath tickling the hairs in Hajime’s nape, “people always come for me.”

He states and leans out of Hajime’s reach, knowing he would get punched otherwise.

“You wish,” is all Hajime has to offer before shrugging the tallers arm off, “I should have known my drink came from you. No one mixes vodka and orange juice like you do.”

With trained movements, Kuroo jerks away from him, reaches over the counter top and pulls something over.

It’s another cup filled with whatever Kuroo thought would be funny. Hajime can feel his scowl starting to carve itself into his skin.

Kuroo just wiggles the drink in front of his face and Hajime takes it begrudgingly. That’s the reason he came for, after all.

He tastes it and it’s not as bad as the vodka with orange juice before. Hajime just shrugs, maybe Kuroo isn’t that bad at being a bartender as he assumed firstly.

“Why did you even want me to come? This seems like an exclusive place,” he asks Kuroo after they managed to get out of the cabin again.

The shift in the air causes Hajime to take a deep breath, get some oxygen into his blood again. His head isn’t spinning, he doesn’t see double and walking isn’t a problem. Great.

Kuroo just nods curtly, his expression not giving anything away as his eyes roam over the lake, which now has torches around it, Hajime still doesn’t think that’s safer, but ok.

“You can’t get into here if you aren’t invited, and you need someone to watch over you. As you see, I’m not doing a great job at that.”

Kuroo’s cheshire grin is back being plastered onto his face. God, how Hajime hates it.

“Again, why am I here?”

They are wandering, seemingly, aimlessly around.

But they come to a halt beside an old oak tree, Kuroo leans leisurely against it and watches everything with a knowing smirk.

Hajime is plainly confused. A crowd of people is gathered behind the campfire, waiting anticipated for something.

His first thought is, that they are going to sacrifice a lamb or something. It does look like the meeting place of a cult here after all, sue him.

There is one thing that grasps attention like nothing else, silence.

The music turns out and the only things you can hear is the crackling of the campfire and the buzzing of bugs searching for light.

Hajime has no idea what is going on, but even he feels anticipation crawling under his skin like ants.

And then it starts.

Low accords are being played on a guitar, monotonously repeating themselves and then someone starts singing.

“Red cups and sweaty bodies everywhere.”

Fitting, is all Hajime can think of and he recognizes what they are covering.

Miley Cyrus’ We Can’t Stop.

A chorus of “hell, no” echoes through the woods as if everyone was prepared for the song.

Hajime is a fan of Rock, Metal maybe Hip Hop, but Miley Cyrus? That’s taking it a bit too far. Just as he wants to start complaining to Kuroo about it, he really listens.

There is so much emotions layered in, Hajime guesses his, voice and it’s drowning out everything around him, holding him in a vice grip. Layers of delight with some dread under it.

Everyone knows he means what he sings. It’s not just covering a song and being good at that. It’s feeling a song and sharing it with others.

The atmosphere is perfect. The song being accompanied by the crackling of the fire and the silhouettes of the trees and the faint light creeping on the ground are plainly perfect.

The hook starts to kick in and Hajime is sure he’s never heard anything more beautiful.

He wants to see him.

From the corner of his eye, he glances at Kuroo who’s already staring at him for who knows how long. He just nods smiling and Hajime leaps off. He must look like a child on christmas morning.

With elbows and “sorries” he fights his way through the crowd until he’s in front of him.

A boy, most likely his age, is sitting in front of him on a huge log that has the same color as the tufts of curls framing his face.

Hajime watches intently how emotions flicker over his perfect features, being accented by faint fairy lights.

He’s beautiful. Plainly, beautiful. Hajime lacks the words to describe exactly why, but he thinks he would be a god in greece.

An old guitar is resting on his lap. It looks like a really old model, one that isn’t being produced anymore. Delicate fingers dance over the strings, tugging at one after the other and Hajime doesn’t understand music anymore.

He notices the hint of a smile pulling at the corner of the singers mouth every time he’s at the end of the refrain again.

People around him are just swaying to the music, many of them have their eyes closed. Most of them are too drunk to do anything other after all.

Hajime notices that some of the passed out people are conscious again and started mingling with the group.

Music is magic after all.

The stranger opens one eye, looking directly at Hajime who is just stunned. He can feel the heat in his cheeks from either the alcohol or him and his heart rate speeds up.

Fires are flashing behind his eyes, seemingly dancing to the song. Hajime just wants to know which color they have or if there are always flames frolicking in them.

The song ends with low vocals full of ups and downs. It sounds emotionally drained. Everyone erupts in cheers and clapping. Hajime, of course too stunned to function, only stares.

The singer manages to let an actual happy party song sound like one of the saddest, most desperate songs ever.

Like a genius of sadness.

He smiles at Hajime, brighter than the fire behind them. Then he starts packing his guitar away.

That’s when drunk people start slurring words in protest. The guitarist just smiles and puts the instrument back into the coffin.

“Come on T. One more,” someone from the back shouts.

T. That’s a starting point.

“I’m sorry, guys. But you know that it’s always just one song.”

His words drip out of his mouth like honey and his voice nothing like the one he has when he sings. But it’s touching him all the same.

Again, roars of protest echo through the woods, but slowly everyone starts to scatter around again until there’s just Hajime left and the cackling of the fire.

“What are you waiting for?” T asks, his head askew and curiosity barely caged in his already huge eyes.

They are brown like a dying sun, melted chocolate and like caramel. Hajime doesn’t understand how his eyes can be all of the above, but it’s true.

“For you, I guess,” Hajime answers bluntly without overthinking. He blames the alcohol.

T’s eyes widen even wider and there’s a spark flashing up in them. Then his expression shifts to something Hajime can just describe as cautious.

“Why?” his eyebrows are furrowed, his lower lip sticking out as he scanns Hajime with sharp eyes.

Hajime knows this trick. He’s playing cute and innocent when in reality he’s analysing you, making a profile of you the FBI couldn’t nail any better.

Hajime shrugs,“You’re interesting.”

“Follow me,” he answers and all caution has vanished from his features.

T picks his coffin up and wants to throw it over his shoulder, but Hajime stops him and takes it himself, willing to carry it.

T just stares at him for a minute before smiling and bowing down, slinging his backpack over his shoulder and picking up some green old blankets that have a chance of being older than both of them added up. Hajime hasn’t even noticed them before. The world could have ended, he wouldn’t have noticed.

They wander off into the direction of the lake. On their way, T often stops them in their tracks to stride over to the passed out people. He takes one of the fuzzy blankets and wraps them into it. Lastly, he takes a bottle of water out of his backpack and lays one down beside them.

He’s doing it with a sad smile and something in Hajime clicks.

“Since when do you throw these parties?” he asks into the night.

He humms.

“A long time. Two years maybe? Every month I throw one. But they haven’t been like that in the beginning. We all grew up.”

T looks lost. He’s just skimming through the knee high grass while the moonlight illuminates his most prominent features, letting him seem like straight out of a movie.

And Hajime realizes that he doesn’t look lost at all. He’s just enjoying the moment. The weeds tickling his skin, the moonlight in his eyes and the breeze rushing around him.

As it seems, T does have a plan. There’s a huge sheet strained between two trees, a hammock. T shrugs his backpack off and takes the coffin from Hajime. He lays it down and opens it, carefully taking his guitar out.

Like a child he throws himself onto the sheet, leaving it to swing between the trees. Lazily, he tugs at the strings while looking at Hajime with a gaze that says everything.

He moves towards the sheet and climbs up, laying down beside T.

Physics does it’s job and pushes them closer to each other so they are side pressed to side. Hajime doesn’t complain.

When he looks up to the sky, leaves and twigs prevent him from seeing the stars. But there is a hole in the whole complexity through which moonlight shines through and you can see the stars perfectly. It’s beautiful, but Hajime can’t keep himself from staring at T.

“Why are you doing all this?” he asks carefully.

T stops pulling at the strings.

For a moment everything is silent. There is just the faint sound of cicadas. He hears T taking a deep breath before answering.

“So people like me have at least one night every month where they don’t have to be afraid of being who they are, one night where they won’t feel alone. This is a place for forgotten children.”

Hajime just stares at the stars, at the leaves silently swaying in the night breeze.

“I have a bad relationship with my father. He’s just as hurt as me. Sometimes I just feel invisible,” T states while raking his arm towards the sky. He musters hid hand with the spread fingers as if expecting the moonlight would plainly shine through him, as if he slowly starts to really believe he’s transparent.

Hajime is a little lost in thoughts, but so glad that T is opening up to him. He should be fair then.

“I know that feeling. My parents don’t care for what I want, they just want me to take over the family firm and get frustrated and cold as my father. This job will kill me.”

T looks at him sadly and Hajime can see the gears in his head moving, how he tries to jump to another topic that’s not so sad.

“The cabin,” T starts, “I got the cabin from my grandfather. He was also the one who taught me how to play instruments and inherited me the guitar,” there’s a fond smile twirling around his lips when he speaks of his grandfather. Hajime notices how he absentmindedly strokes the guitar, “he’s already with my mother.”

Hajime wouldn’t have understood what he meant without the bitter undertone in his voice.

“They would be proud of you. You are doing a good thing here, watching over everyone.”

T smiles and looks at him, a silent “thank you” written in his eyes.

Hajime smiles too. There is a weird inner urge that wants to know more about this boy.

“What’s your name?”

T looks at him as if he asked him what color his hair is. As if it’s the most obvious thing. Hajime rolls his eyes, “I mean your real name. And not just the first letter or whatever.”

“Why would you want to know?” he asks while getting up and embedding the guitar back into the coffin.

This time he crawls cautiously onto the hammock. He’s balancing on all fours, his face hanging a few inches over Hajime’s. The moonlight lights up the back of his head,letting him seem like a celestial creature and Hajime can’t resist. He raises an arm and buries his hand in the brown tufts that are as soft as they seem.

T jerks back a little only to find his composure again and lean into the touch, closing his eyes.

Wind blows through the leaves, through their hair, playing their own melodie to which the world sways.

He opens his eyes again, they are heavily lidded and Hajime has truly never seen something as beautiful as him.

“Tooru,” he whispers while coming closer.

“That’s a beautiful name, don’t hide it,” Hajime says smiling brightly and Tooru does so too.

“Hajime,” he hushes out before their lips meet.

Tooru is now grasping the collar of Hajime’s jacket, desperately trying to pull him closer.

The kiss feels like coming home, as if Hajime just found a part of himself he has lost years ago without noticing, because he has adjusted to the gaping hole inside of him.

They separate and Tooru is glowing down at him and Hajime knows he’s thinking the same.

He may glow too, but it’s not as bright as Tooru. Nothing can reach up to him.

They kiss again,

and again,

and again until the first rays of sunlight filter through Tooru’s hair, letting his eyes glisten like burning embers.

#iwaoi #iwaizumi hajime #oikawa tooru #haikyuu!!#fanfic #fluff #sweet #music #miley cyrus #we can't stop #majxra writes

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mapleleafstrash · 7 years ago

Text

Dusk Till Dawn - Auston Matthews

A/N: This was inspired by the song ‘Dusk till Dawn’ by Zayn and Sia. So, maybe give it a listen? I know it’s a bit short but this was just me trying to get back into writing. I’m hoping to start updating regularly again. Let me know what you think!

Characters: Auston Matthews

Words: 2,349

Warnings: Language, Mention of Sexual Content

Auston Matthews was a very enigmatic individual.

He was like a jigsaw puzzle. Sometimes one piece could lead you to filling in more gaps, while other times it could confuse you even more. Often you felt as if you were even missing pieces, hindering you from ever solving the mysterious entity that was the top Toronto Maple Leaf.

You weren’t overly close to Auston at first. You ran in the same social circle, so you saw each other often, but you had always kept your distance. You’d heard of the Arizona native’s lackluster reputation. Girl’s, parties, and lots and lots of sex. You weren’t sure what irked you more; the fact that he was presumably in a ‘relationship’ with a model from his home state, or the fact that he treated it like it was nothing.

But despite this, you couldn’t help but be curious, or even attracted to Auston. He was incredibly fit, and he oozed confidence and sex appeal. The way he walked, and the way he talked proved he knew exactly how desired he truly was.

Girls threw themselves towards him, and all you ever did was watch. It truly stunned you how not only the girls threw out all their morals, but how Auston was just as quick to do the same. His teammates usually just laughed it off, but it always left a bad taste in your mouth.

Unfortunately, you were slowly starting to realize it wasn’t because you were ashamed of Auston, but it was because you were jealous. You wanted nothing more than to shove aside any girl that would pursue Auston, and push yourself into his arms instead. Now it was yourself that you were ashamed of. Despite his situation and everything that you had come to know about Auston, you had still inevitably fallen for him.

Over time, your relationship slowly started to flourish. Auston had come to find you as a good confidant. Someone he could confide in, and someone who could support him and offer occasional advice. You had become selfish with that privilege however. You used his most vulnerable moments to get close to him, something you knew was wrong, but couldn’t ever find yourself regretting.

But you were nothing.

You knew that better than anyone.

Even though you spent numerous hours with him, either in person, through texting, or on the phone, you and Auston Matthews were not meant to be. His lifestyle just wasn’t compatible to yours. On top of that, you never imagined he’d pine after you, like the limitless line of girls that seemed to always be at his beckon call.

You and Auston Matthews would never work. You were too different. Held too many secrets, and carried too many sins. You were both hurt, broken in ways that neither of you could fix. But you both accepted each other’s faults.

You were nothing but good friends.

Well, until the night he called you.

With his voice hoarse of tears, Auston’s voice begged you to visit him. Not being able to say no, you complied. With the moon high in the sky, the fifteen-minute car ride across Toronto’s downtown core seemed to stretch on for ages, and the hammer in your chest seemed to get louder and louder with each passing moment.

Double checking your hair and makeup, you made sure you looked presentable enough before you exited your vehicle. Entering Auston’s condo’s passcode to gain access to the building, you tapped your foot as you waited for the elevator to reach floor number seventeen.

With a ding, the elevators’ doors separated, giving you entry into the lavishly decorated hallway. Walking to the end of the hall, you knocked twice on Auston’s door. Only a few seconds passed by before Auston had thrown his door open, revealing his blood-shot eyes.

You pouted your lip in sympathy, feeling your chest hurt for the man stood in front of you. “Oh, Auston,” you sighed, as his larger figure enveloped you in a tight hug. You couldn’t help but melt in his embrace. You took a deep breath, inhaling his familiar woody scent, before pulling away and walking into his high-end condo.

Slipping your shoes off, Auston kindly took your coat and hung it up before he grasped your much smaller hand in his and led you into his living room. Taking a seat on the couch, you fell into your typical position. With his one hand in yours, you used your other to slowly comb your way through Auston’s dark locks as he leaned into you.

“What happened?” you questioned softly, as you continued to play with Auston’s hair.

His body shook as he took a deep sigh, “There’s just so much babe, I just couldn’t deal with it alone,”

You nodded, trying to show you understood. “You’re the only one who doesn’t judge, and I just, I don’t know,” he continued, as his body cuddled deeper against yours.

“You don’t know what?” you asked, as you stared down at his form.

Auston’s eyes trailed upwards to meet yours, russet meeting Y/E/C. The dark bags that constantly plagued Auston’s gaze looked even gloomier than you had ever seen before. You could feel his exhaustion, both mentally and physically, by just having him in your arms.

“I always just think of you when I get upset now. Whenever something’s bothering me, I immediately want to call you. Just the sound of your voice calms me down Y/N,” he spoke, causing your cheeks to heat and your lips to fall agape.

Looking away from him, you stared out the large bay window beside you that showed off the vibrant city below. The dark sky had become illuminated from all the lights that shone around the downtown Toronto zone.

“You’ll never be alone Auston,” you said finally, “I’ll always be here, whenever you need me,”

Looking back down, you noticed Auston’s pink lips curve upwards slightly. Holding your breath, you looked back out the window, wanting to avoid his lingering gaze. “So, what happened?”

Auston sighed again, before he let go of your hand and sat up. Sitting next to you, Auston looked down at his hands as he spoke, “Jordyn called, and so did my mother,”

“Oh,” you whispered, immediately becoming rigid at the sound of his ‘girlfriend’s’ name.

“Yeah,” he replied, “neither of them were overly happy with me,”

You could feel the air in the room shift suddenly. You assumed they had called because they had both caught onto Auston and his promiscuous ways. To be honest, you were surprised it had taken this long. Everybody in Toronto knew Auston Matthews was free to hook up with, as long as he would have you.

“Well I couldn’t imagine why,” you glowered, as your distaste of the whole Jordyn situation found its way back into your mouth.

Auston sent you a look, and you sighed, “well I mean, it’s a little understandable. I wouldn’t be too happy with you either,”

“You don’t even know what this is about,” Auston shot back, his voice stern as he sat back a bit, distancing himself from you.

“I bet I could guess,” you challenged, causing the man next to you to send you another glare. “You know nothing about it,”

You laughed, feeling your stomach churn in discomfort as you knew what was about to happen. You weren’t going to hold back this time. “Nothing about what? How you’re supposedly in a relationship with Jordyn, but your sleeping with anyone who throws themselves at you? If I was Jordyn I’d be quite upset, and quite honestly, I have no idea why she’s still putting up with you. It’s been going on for months, and no offense to her, that kind of shows what type of person she is. And your Mom? Well if my son was acting the way you are I’d be extremely disappointed,”

Auston sighed before he rubbed his face with his hands, “this is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you, I knew you’d be like this,”

“Like what? Honest?” you questioned, raising an eyebrow.

Auston groaned before he stood up, obviously wanting to end the conversation. “I’m not getting into this with you,”

You just shook your head as you stared at his retreating form. You couldn’t believe him. He wanted sympathy for being called out by his mother and his girlfriend.

“Do you even love her?” you suddenly asked, as you sat stiff on the couch.

Auston’s form stopped in it’s place, his back still turned towards you. “Who?” he then dared ask.

You rolled your eyes, and waved your hand before you crossed your arms, “You know what? Never mind. If you can’t even answer me then that just proves my point,”

Auston suddenly whipped around, his face contorted in annoyance, “you know nothing, you know absolute shit all Y/N,”

“I know you’re a coward,” you spoke firmly, as your throat became scratchy and you could feel your emotions boiling over. You were hurt and disappointed because you knew he could be a better person. You were hurt because you cared so much for Auston, yet he still found ways to let you down.

Clicking his tongue, Auston stood planted, his figure rigid as he stared you down. “That’s rich, especially coming from you,”

You clenched your jaw as you stood and walked towards him, going chest to chest with the man you were in love with, “I might not express myself enough, and I might not even know what I really want, but I am no coward. I don’t hide my feelings in the bodies of countless girls who’s names I can’t even recall, just because I’m afraid to let someone in. I don’t lie to a girl who’s obviously head over heels in love with me and cheat on her, because I don’t want the commitment. At least I don’t hurt people when I hide my feelings, unlike you.”

Auston stared down at you, his mouth left agape as his chest moved up and down and he breathed hard. His eyes searched yours as he took your words in. The worst part for Auston, was how he knew you were right, he just didn’t want to admit it.

Even though he was your jigsaw puzzle, you had solved more of him than he ever would’ve liked. He could deny everything, but he knew you wouldn’t believe him. So instead of taking it, he decided to throw it right back at you.

With a devilish smirk, Auston taunted you with his words, “at least I’m not afraid to take what I want,”

Knitting your eyebrows together, you licked your lips, “and how would you know what I want?”

His eyes bore into yours as you felt your body’s temperature rise. Your heart raced fast as you suddenly felt Auston lean down towards you. Taking a breath, you felt your eyes flutter as his lips moved close to yours. But just before they touched, Auston moved back and sent you a smirk, “that’s how I know,”

Your stomach dropped, and instead of reacting, you spun around and headed towards the front door. Feeling tears prick your eyes, you felt betrayed and belittled. You were embarrassed and hurt that Auston would ever do that to you. As you reached up to grab your coat off his hooks, Auston’s hand caught yours instead.

Spinning you around, you gasped when Auston’s lips smacked themselves right onto yours. You wanted nothing more than to kiss him back, but you pulled away instead. With your tears now streaming down your cheeks, you pulled out of Auston’s grasp and held back the urge to slap the man standing in front of you.

“What are you doing?” you cried out, feeling more confused than ever. “Am I just a game to you? Another form of amusement? Huh?”

“Stay with me,” he stated simply.

“What?” you exclaimed, “No!”

“If you love me, stay with me,” he spoke again, causing you to shake your head in disbelief.

“You have no right to ask that of me,” you wept, “nor do you deserve it,”

“I never said I deserved you, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want you,” Auston then replied, before he grabbed you and pulled you into him. “Just one night Y/N, let me be yours for one night,”

Taking a sigh, your brain screamed at you to say no. But your heart, your heart begged you to stay. Instead of answering, you caught Auston by surprise when you leaned up and pressed your lips against his. After he recovered quickly, Auston immediately deepened the kiss. As his hands trailed up and down your body, he slowly led you towards his bedroom.

There wasn’t much talking for the rest of the night. As your clothes became discarded across Auston’s hardwood floor, you found yourself underneath the Leafs’ centreman. As his lips touched yours and his hands wandered, your heart fluttered in contentment. You were finally getting what you had always wanted.

His kisses soon stopped and his lips instead latched onto any piece of your skin he could find as he began thrusting into you. The only sounds in the room was his deep groaning and your cries of pleasure. You felt as if your body was on fire, and with each bottomless thrust, you felt closer and closer to the man you were convinced you were in love with. Auston Matthews was making you feel like this. He was making love to you. And you were finally his.

Well, until the sun rose.

You left Auston’s sleeping form alone once you left at dawn the next morning. Like previously stated, you and Auston Matthews would never work. You were too different. Held too many secrets, and carried too many sins. You were both hurt, broken in ways that neither of you could fix. But you both accepted each other’s faults.

And if this is what it took to heal; If this is what it took to be close to him, then so be it.

You’d always be with him, from dusk till dawn.

#auston matthews imagines #auston matthews #nhl imagines #hockey imagines #maple leafs imagines #toronto maple leafs imagines #nhl fanfiction #my writing

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yakumtsaki · 7 years ago

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There’s no easy way to say this so I’m just gonna come right out with it: welcome to the most morbid post in Union history. Half the family is getting wiped out in a single update and I don’t mean to point fingers, but it’s 100% Wyatt’s fault. I really need someone to blame so don’t dare try to take this away from me.

Back to the present and not the corpse-filled near future, we actually have some money to spend on our spawn for the first time ever, so Shajar gets a non-completely-depressing room. No more eating from the cat bowl for our kids!

..spoke too soon.

-Is it still there, is it still there??

-YES omg it just looked right at me! Vic! I’m scared!

-Don’t make eye contact with it you fool! Don’t you have any idea about how children work??

After not getting promoted for an eon, Jojo is suddenly killing it, two promotions in a row!

-I know, I was starting to fear I’d be one of those geniuses who are only recognized after death- UGH, what is that obnoxious sound?

That’s your infant child screaming because it was abandoned on the cold hard floor the entire night.

-Oh ok, so standard parenting. For a minute I thought something was wrong.

-There, there, you’re alright. Ok.. OK seriously, stop. God, have some dignity for once in your 12-hour life. Crying in public is so embarrassing.

-NEEEEEEO NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Yup. I’ve been so focused on feeding Victor and Alegra’s ancient asses from the bowl of life that I forgot Neo was an elder too, so he’s the first to go even though he’s way younger than them, great job @ me. Goodbye Neo 💔 You were such a good boy, our cat heir, and an integral part in achieving Komei’s life-ruining LTW. You will be sorely missed.

..Apparently by your archenemy Victor most of all. Vicky casually walked off the lot the minute Neo died with no notifications about running away, only to return on his own shortly after. Wtf is going on in this house.

-I had to contemplate the futility of hate.. All this time wasted trying to kill each other and for what.. It's a sunrise and a sunset from a cradle to a casket.

Yea or this lot is already glitched as fuck and it’s only generation 2. Good times.

I was very bummed out by Neo’s premature demise and not in the mood for another kid, but one peek at Jojo and Wyatt’s life bars convinced me to drop the mourning period and circle-of-life this bitch. They are extremely not getting any younger and who tf do I think I am? Someone who knows better than Mufasa?However since a) Jojo is nowhere near his 100k LTW and can’t be taking days off and b) and more importantly, I hate Wyatt, guess who’s carrying this time around!

OH COME ON

GODFUCKINGDAMMIT WYATT

-Huhu!

How the hell did this happen I DEMAND TO KNOW

-Check how your mods work in le futur, idiόt!

..well you got me there.

Jo you are ON FIRE, 3/3! Maybe we can actually complete this 100k bullshit before you’re on death’s doorstep. It’s gonna be close tho, but you know, you just HAD to get knocked up again, so that’s on you.

-No, it’s on YOU.

No, it’s ON WYATT. Let’s just not point fingers and move on, ok? Everyone is equally to blame.

-NO THEY’RE NOT

I’VE MOVED ON I CAN’T HEAR YOU

And now a section I like to call: What the entire fuck is happening. VICTORIA WHAT ARE YOU DOING

-What?? I love babies :)

I legit went back and checked, can you guess how many times Victoria autonomously interacted with any of her kids when they were babies/toddlers? If you had EXACTLY ONE TIME you win..nothing. There are no winners here.

Oh. my. god.

-Stop hogging her already, I wanna feed her too!

-WELL WAIT YOUR TURN DICK. No, not you, baby bobo booboo..

We’ve had our fair share of plot twists around here but this is truly some fucked up shit. In case you don’t get what the big deal is, enjoy this little trip down memory lane aka the Victoria-Komei-parenting-hall-of-fame. Either the ‘age mellows people out’ thing applies to sims too or they got personality transplants when I wasn’t looking. Disturbing.

Of course SOME THINGS never change, no matter how life-ruining for all involved.

-Is this about my LTW, STILL? It’s been like 20 years, GET OVER IT

NEVER

Whachu doing Vic?

-Updating my will to include Komei now that I suddenly love him. Of course someone has to get cut to make that happen..

Well goodbye Daniel I guess!

-..Who the fuck is Daniel?

-I too am making preparations for when I leave this cruel world.

I’m gonna go out on a limb here and assume they’re cat-related.

-NO, not everything is about cats! I have plenty of other interests and concerns.

Name one.

-My beloved son! I’m making sure he takes care of my cats.

Finally, this family’s excellence is starting to be recognized. It’s about time.

-Yea no, this is a recognition that you trainwrecks need all the help you can get.

UGH typical jealous hater bullshit, I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.

Ok, I’ve some idea what you’re talking about. Honestly what else has to happen for me to just. stop fucking throwing kid’s birthday parties? I’m pretty sure we’ve had..one that wasn’t a straight up disaster? God knows those glory days aren’t returning any time soon.

-I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m having a blast :D

Of course you are Gunther, you haven’t been sober since the third year of college.

AND SOME PEOPLE ARE TAKING ADVANTAGE OF THAT. ABSOLUTELY NOT. HALF ALIEN PROF ISTFG

-I’m legit fine with this :)

I legit don’t care, it’s not happening in our sacred home. Also BRIT IS RIGHT THERE JFC you’ve gotten stupid as shit.

You guys seriously, what sins am I paying for, why can’t we have ONE NORMAL NON-INCESTUOUS PARTY. JUST ONE. Daniel heartfarting over his ex, ok, not that weird. Komei heartfarting over his daughter-in-law..getting weird. Gunther heartfarting over Half Alien Prof..reaching for the chlorine to bleach my eyes and then immediately drink.

Nice, get in on that action Wyatt! We almost forgot about your long standing boner for your brother-in-law.

Happy birthday, Shajar! You’re welcome for this amazing party, pay me back by not being ugly.

..yea ok. You did your best with the tools you were given. And I mean the literal giant tools that are your parents. Hopefully Wyatt came through with his somewhat balanced personality???

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. OH MAN. 10 playful, 9 active and 1 nice? Literally sporting Jigsaw’s personality. I mean darling Jojo has 3 nice points and is..how he is, can’t even imagine what Shajar is gonna grow up to be like, but it’s good to know we’re moving in the exact opposite direction than intended.

-Enjoyed your kid’s birthday party, you cheating bastard? WELL PARTY’S OVER

-I may be a cheating bâtard-

-SHUT THE FUCK UP WITH YOUR SELECTIVE FRENCH ACCENT

AW Neo’s ghost making its first appearance and trying to kill Wyatt, what a sweetheart. Welcome to the party!

It was one for the history books!

-How on earth did this party suck, I had an exceptional time.

Yea that’s because you weren’t there, it’s easy to have an exceptional time away from this family. Of course I have never personally experienced it but the mind does race.

-AH at last, my article is published! Oh, editor’s pick too, ha, of course. No, wait, editor’s warning.. As requested by the legal department? Drama queens. “Horrifying views expressed.. Widely discredited.. Not endorsed in any way by this publication.. DERIVATIVE??!!” Well, I know what I’m doing this weekend.

Is it.. rewriting your article?

-Oh, I’ll rewrite it alright. IN BLOOD

Great. Speaking of blood-

-Victor’s thirst for it is back with a vengeance. We went an entire 4 days without a cat fight and I was all like ‘woo new record’ but one thing has become clear since then:

Victor didn’t go away to contemplate shit. He was waiting..plotting..training..and now the time has come for Victor 2: Reign of Blood.

-WHERE’S YOUR GOD NOW??

Seems about right. Honestly Sophie is the wisest one among us because she got tfo just in time to miss THIS:

Yea, unsurprisingly fucking Damien here is one vicious screamer. WHAT DO YOU WANT

-YOUR SOULS

Good luck finding any in this house.

-Who’s my cute little spawn of satan? Who is? Come to grandma baby.

-ONE SMALL STEP FOR ME, ONE GIANT LEAP TOWARDS THE ANNIHILATION OF MANKIND

Wyatt continues to do nothing of use all day and is not even getting promoted anymore due to his tragic lack of skill points. Somehow that led me to deciding he should be the one to get the genie wishes, I honestly dk wtf my problem is.

-Greetings, mortal etc etc. I’m gonna skip over the intro, you know the deal with the dealio, 3 wishes, let’s hit it.

-I was expectànt more of an Aladdin flair but c’est bien I guess..

-DON’T DARE MENTION THAT MOVIE TO ME YOU FRENCH ASSHOLE

-Um, oui, your désir c’est my command..Huhu!

-Is one of your wishes the return of your brain, because you should throw that in there.

-Non, non. C’est but one wish in mon coeur, Genié. To nevér, evér have to interact with my bébés but still have beaucoup of them.. In case you can’t tell, I am sim de famille!

-Ugh yea, that much is obvious.

-Well, your wish is granted, mortal! Let me just flick your nose as hard as I can and we’re done here..

-Pourquoi?

-Oh no reason, just for my own pleasure. Buh-bye!

-And with that, he turned into la fumée, mon cheri! Incrediblé!

-I hate my life.

That makes two of us. As in I hate your life too, my life is pretty good.

KOMEI DO YOU MIND WITH YOUR DANGEROUS CURVES, Jojo has a grueling skilling schedule to keep up with.

-So this is it. Rock bottom.

I mean, you wanted to be heir boo, you got it. It’s a dirty job.

Finally one of the Mortal Kombat cats lives up to its name! GET FUCKED VICTOR

-K.O

Well, we all saw that coming. Victor seriously, you’re like 50yo, don’t do this.

-I’m outta here for the fourth time bitches, and this time I’m not coming back! No man is an island but this cat is.

Ok, see you soon.

Wyatt’s wish is definitely coming true, he has not touched Shajar a single time yet, autonomously or otherwise! What a guy.

-I HAVE NO USE FOR EARTHLY FATHERS, THE ONE I NEED AWAITS US ALL IN HELL

It’s gonna be a long fucking generation.

-WYATT. WYATT YOU DAMN MORON WAKE UP

-Ugh Jojό, I told you, my magique protects me from all bébé interactiόn.

-DOES IT PROTECT YOUR TORSO FROM MULTIPLE STAB WOUNDS

It’s a girl! I’m like why stray from a proven formula, so I name her Cyneswith after another Crusader Kings character, who did not exist irl like Shajar but was still a fire emoji empress of Britannia. Welcome to the shitshow Cyneswith! No offense, it was great to meet you, but we have some important shit to do so..have fun on the floor?

FUCKING FINALLY. It’s promotions only from now on boo!

..Which is more than I can say for some people. Wyatt seriously, can you move your useless ass up the ladder already so we can avoid having this freak in our house EVERY SINGLE DAY.

-The boy’s just following his heart ;)

Half Alien Prof you are by far the biggest pervert I’ve ever had in this game and Jojo spent his entire teenagehood trying to start a bdsm relationship with Stephen Tinker.

Well, Victor predictably died off lot, which is so on brand for him I’m not even mad. An insufferable dick to the very end, he lived to eat and to start fights with every animal he ever came in contact with. He only ever really loved Victoria. I’m gonna miss him so much.

Victor may have died, but that’s not going to stop the police department from trying to return him to us. Just remember that that place is under Wyatt’s supervision and it all makes sense.

Can hardly wait, Professional Make-Up Cop.

-I want to play a game, Alegra.

Man is someone gunning to be put up for adoption!

-Papa’s birthday présent to you, Shajar, is us finally meeting! Breathe it in, mon favori, I’ll be seeing you again on your next anniversaire!

-Wyatt I swear to fucking god, I will stab you.

Can we get this going please, I’m in NO MOOD.

Not bad at all! A pretty even mix of Wyatt/Jojo and I see you def did not get the Komei jaw, which is pretty much angels singing.

-Angels singing makes my eyes roll in the back of my skull.

You make my eyes roll in the back of my skull.

-What?

What. I didn’t say anything. Love you Shaj!

-One more for the road babe? After 50 years?

Yea. Just pretend everything that follows has a broken heart emoji before and after each word.

I dress Vic up and have her wait for Death in the living room like a lady, none of those ‘dying in the bathroom in my underwear’ deaths, befitting people like Wyatt. However ideal the circumstances as far as death goes, my heart still broke in more pieces than cats Komei has petted.

-VICTORIA UNION

-Marisa? Is that you?

-NO, IT’S-wow cool armchair, where did you get-no, sorry, you’re dying and all, let me start over..

-VICTORIA UNION, YOUR TIME HAS COME. I’M HERE TO COLLECT YOUR WRETCHED SOUL

-What? My soul is not wretched jerkoff, the fuck you talking about?

-THAT’S JUST A THING WE SAY BECAUSE IT SOUNDS COOL, PLEASE DON’T RUIN IT

-HERE’S YOUR COMPLIMENTARY VIRGIN MARGARITA

-Virgin??? Oh god, I’m going to hell aren’t I?

-YOU WERE, BUT YOUR GRANDDAUGHTER MADE SOME CALLS ON YOUR BEHALF. WELCOME TO HEAVEN

-Yes, I can taste the alcohol in this! GOING GONE, BITCHES. LATES

The stacks of simoleons DID NOT EASE MY PAIN. I do love that Daniel got the most final version of ‘and none for Gretchen Weiners, bye’ possible.

Jojo is fucking devastated and immediately rolls the want to resurrect Vic. It’s bummy af, I’m not even gonna go for the obvious oedipal jokes, he was just crying for days and days and days..

Komei, on the other hand, WAS NOT.

-Eh, I’ll be seeing her soon enough, why waste the tears.

Now that I think about it Komei has never cried about any of the cats either, I think he’s just the type of person who deals with grief by suppressing it. Whatever works.

Jojo and Wyatt are always having these fashion talks whenever they’re eating which are hilarious because I can see Wyatt being into it, I mean he’s french, but in what world is fucking nerd Jojo interested in clothing. Not even that can cheer him up now 💔

Fucking Florence, bringer of doom, returns Sophie to us and the moment she does:

Tell me how am supposed to live without you, now that I've been loving you so long, how am I supposed to live without you, how am I supposed to carry on, when all that I've been living for.. is gone 💔

FUCK YOU FLORENCE

Jfc the blows just won’t stop coming. LEAVE US ALONE WE’RE IN MOURNING

Time for Cyneswith’s depressing ass birthday which I can’t give less of a fuck about, and apparently neither can Wyatt but then again he wouldn’t even if we weren’t ~back to black.

Loving the hairstyle but it does look ridic on a toddler. Good for you for committing to your british aristocracy character tho, very Downton Abbey.

Well the Komei jaw always knocks twice and apparently we let it in this time. Are you beautiful on the inside Cyneswith?

OH. MY. FUCK. BYE. CYNESWITH YOU FUCKING FREAK

-Huhu!

NO SHE GOT THE HUHU. GOD HELP US

Cyneswith dramatically enters the toddler stage by immediately going into aspiration failure.. You can all guess where this is going.

-KOMEI UNION YOUR TIME HAS COME. I’M HERE TO COLLECT YOUR-

-Yea yea whatever, are my cats waiting for me? If you say no I will literally kill myself.

-I DON’T THINK YOU’RE GRASPING THE CORE CONCEPT OF DEATH, BUT YES THEY ARE WAITING.

-I’M OUT. TELL THE WOLF I LOVED HIM

KOMEI 💔 I’m sorry but we will not be delivering that message.

Apparently Jojo and Komei legit bonded at some point?? I was expecting like a half-hearted sigh but instead we got sobbing-

-and this sum that does not imply ‘least favorite kid’ AT ALL.

Well you know how the old saying goes: nothing will ever replace your parents but a helicopter will come close.

Also in mourning: this breakdancer npc that randomly appeared on our lot and stayed stuck there for 2 days before I finally batboxed her into oblivion. This lot is fuuuucked y’all.

And generation 1 is officially over. Rest in peace Komei and Victoria, legacy founders, horrible spouses and somehow even worse parents. You stuck it out and were fun to play till the very end. I’ll really miss you guys 💔

#ts2 #gen 2

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joeesuggimagine · 7 years ago

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What’s his Name? (Taron Egerton Imagine)

What’s his Name?

A/N: this is set in the fictional world of ‘THE BREACH’ - by LAZY HABITS.

I hope you enjoy the imagine! Reblog, like and comment!

xoxoxo

Sipping on a vodka tonic, you look around the pub packed full of drunk women out on a hen do night. There are a couple of men floating around, only one seems to catch your eye, though.

The blond haired lad sighs, running a hand through his hair, as he squats down to pick up empty beer bottles. He holds a tired expression on his face and you watch him curse slightly as one lady throws pink feathers in his hair. He looks up, catching your eye. You send him a sympathetic smile and he just gives you a short smile back before going back to picking up bottles.

Trying to balance them in his arms, he tries to get up. Seeing him struggle, you leave your post at the bar and run over to help the man.

"Thanks," he mumbles, once you've grabbed a few bottles out of his hands. You both walk over to the bar to set them down.

"You alright?" You ask him.

"Yeah, just a tough night," he replies, honestly.

"It seems it," you say, with a laugh, and gesture towards the hen party.

He chuckles, be it sincere or not, you couldn't really tell. "Yeah, hen do's aren't really my scene." After a second of silence between you both, he asks, "you part of them?"

You nod. "sadly, yes. It's a friend of a friend's hen do."

"Thought you, lasses, like a good hen do?" He sends a smirk your way.

You return an equally as cheeky smirk as you reply, "I'm not like your average lass, you see. I don't like to drink much, so hen do's aren't my scene, either. I'm only here because of my mate."

"Fair enough." He goes to say something else but something behind you catches his eye. "I've gotta go. It was nice talking to you," he trails off, gesturing for your name.

"Y/N L/N," is your simple response. You give him a toothy smile.

"It was nice talking to you, Y/N. This has been the highlight of my night, I swear. I hope to see you again." He grins at you, before pecking your cheek.

You look down at your heels, to hide the ever growing bright red blush on your cheeks.

"Wait, I never got your name!" You look up to see the mystery man had disappeared into the crowd.

Bringing the cigarette to your lips, you can feel the alcohol starting to take its toll on you. You can feel it streaming through your bloodstream and the buzz is getting to your head. You inhale the smoke deeply and then slowly blow it out. Going for another puff, you hear the exit door to the pub open beside you.

The gorgeous man from before steps out, placing a cigarette in between his lips. You watch him, with eyes full of lust, search his pockets. When he comes up empty handed, he sighs, deeply.

You aren't going to lie. The man before you is fucking beautiful. His blonde hair sits perfectly on his perfectly shaped head. He has a jawline you could cut onions on, and if you cry, you wouldn't know if it was because of the onions or because he is just so god damn beautiful.

He looks to the side and sees that you're already looking at him. His eyes seem to light up and he smiles. Your insides go to mush at the sight of his lopsided grin.

"You got a light?" He asks as he leans against the wall next to you. His arm brushes yours ever so slightly and a jolt of electricity goes through you. He feels it too as he shakes his arm, subtly. You notice. However, it may just be the alcohol streaming through your body.

You hand him your lighter as you finish the rest of your cigarette, chucking it on the ground and stomping on it.

"How's your night going?" He asks.

You lean on one shoulder, facing him. "It's gotten a lot better actually, now that you're here."

Under the street lamp, you see his deep green eyes stare into you as he smirks. "You're a lot more flirty when you're drunk," he states, as his face leans closer to yours.

Or is it just the alcohol again? You're not too sure anymore; his presence seems to have gotten you a lot more fucked than what you were when you first went outside for the cigarette.

"You'd have to be stupid to pass up the opportunity to flirt with a man like you," you reply to him, your eyes twinkling with mischief.

"I must say I'm flattered," he whispers. His face has inched closer and closer to yours. His breath fans your delicate face, a mixture of alcohol and smoke hitting your nose. Your noses brush together, eyes flutter close and your lips connect to his lips for a brief second before the pub door swings open.

The green eyed man jumps away from you, causing you to sigh, sadly, at the loss of his warm body against your own cold one.

"Oi, get back in here!" The bouncer exclaims, using his arm to aggressively beckon him back into the pub.

The man grunts, throwing his cigarette onto the floor. He sends you a soft smile as he walks through the doors back to his living hell.

You're left outside, craving his touch even more...and wondering what the fuck his name is still.

You watch the bouncer drag a blacked out girl, vomit around her mouth, out of the club. You feel sorry for the lass for a split second before being grateful that it isn't you being dragged out like that.

The night isn't even half over and shit is already going down. The drag queens, that are probably way under paid to be here, dance provocatively on the table tops as women stuff money in their underwear and pour alcohol all over each other. You watch them with a slight distaste.

Through the corner of your eye, you witness the bride and one of her bridesmaids stumble into the bathroom a tad too comfy.

You know what they're about to do. However, you don't care; they have nothing to do with you and you have nothing to do with them. They can do god knows what in that bathroom and you wouldn't give two flying fucks.

You do, however, curse them silently as the urge to piss comes over you, but you can't even go pee. Unless you are willing to walk in on some kinky lesbian sex. Which you are not. You've seen some things in your life, but lesbian sex isn't one and you definitely don't want it to be one anytime soon.

After getting yourself another drink and then mentally slapping yourself for 5 minutes straight for causing yourself the need to pee more, you see the bride and bridesmaid stumble out of the bathroom just the same as they did going in.

You do a little happy dance in your head and run to the bathroom before anyone else.

You slam the door shut and lock it. With your hands about to hitch your dress up to pee, your name said in a deep voice lifts through the air.

You jump and turn around to see your gorgeous lover from tonight. He is leaning back against the wall for support. He looks fed up, tired and anything else bad.

"What are you doing in here?" You question him, with a frown.

He points to the door. "I had to stop those two from necking it on."

"Why?"

"It's my job."

"No, your job is to tidy up the mess those girls made. Not stop them from making mistakes," you say with a hand on your hip.

Suddenly an idea pops in your head. An idea that one hundred percent would not come into mind if you weren't drunk as fuck.

"How about this?" You start to say, a smirk growing on your face and your eyes twinkling brightly with mayhem. You step closer to him, and you swear he tries to step back but can't because he is already attached to the wall. "How about I make it my job," you step closer, "to make tonight the best," you give him a wink, "and I mean, best night of your life?"

Your body is now flushed against his as your lips brush his lips. His eyes flicker to your moist lips as you hear him gulp heavily and you feel victory inside you at the fact that you can make this breathtaking man feel like that.

"I know you need it, babe," you whisper against his lips. Your hands slide down his chest until they hover above his crotch. "I can feel the tension." His breath hitches as you give his cock a tight squeeze over his trackie bottoms.

"You're right, Y/N," he whispers, his voice lacing with seduction, and slams your lips together, closing the distance between you two.

Your lips move perfectly together, fitting like a jigsaw puzzle. His hands cup your face and you can feel him moan into your mouth as you continue to palm his member.

With a swift movement, he flips your positions so that you are now in between the wall and him. His hands move from your face to under your thighs. He lifts you up so your legs wrap around his waist. He works his way down, leaving kisses down your face to your neck. He sucks on your soft spot as your hands entangle themselves in his hair. You stretch your neck to give him more access, moaning slightly when he nibbles at the sensitive part. Your eyes are tightly shut closed, moans and groans erupting from your lips as you feel him successful leave a hickey on your neck.

"Come back to mine," he softly mumbles into your neck. You nod and he lets you jump down from his waist. You're about to leave the bathroom, but he grabs your wrist, pulling you back into his chest. He ducks his head down to plant another kiss on your lips and you continue to make out for a few minutes, your hands wrapped around his neck as his slide down your hips to your ass.

He's the first to stop the kiss. "Come on," he says, pulling you out the bathroom with a grin on his face. A grin that actually looks sincere and real for the first time tonight.

Your stomach flips and butterflies dance. Your heart skips beats as a genuine smile quirks up on your face. Your head goes light and you feel like you're on top of the world.

You've only met this man today and you already feel like you're in love. Lucky to say, he feels the same way.

However, just before you're about to leave the pub, you stop him from pulling you any longer to ask him a question that you should've asked when you first met him.

"Wait!" You exclaim. He turns back to look at you, his hand entwined with yours. He sends you a concerned smile as you ask, "what's your name?"

He laughs deep heartedly, throwing his head back as dimples appear on his cheeks. Cute as fuck, you think to yourself, mentally gushing over him.

"Taron," he simply says.

You stare at him for a second, almost getting lost in his green eyes, before testing the name in your mouth, "Taa-ron."

"Yeah, Taron Egerton."

"Taron Egerton," you repeat. "Taron Egerton," you repeat again, this time sending him a goofy grin. "I like it!"

He chuckles, giving you a grin. "And I like yours, Y/N L/N."

You giggle as he tugs you by the hand, pulling you out the doors of the pub and down the road into the sunset...

And by that, I mean, his bedroom. ;)

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mysterybustershq · 7 years ago

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delta psi beta’s halloween bash » event (2/2)

a little party never killed nobody... well it did.

naomi.

literally so much was happening and naomi could just feel the tension in the room. she was about to follow ashley's lead when she heard the delta psi beta frat president announce that they were about to call out the winners of the halloween costume contest. "uh guys, shouldn't we like.... go see who won?" she asked, looking around at everyone before making her way outside where the rest of the party was gathering at. she was a bit surprised to see the guy she had just hooked up with standing in front of the crowd and she almost turned back in embarrassment but decided not to since she was sure he wouldn't even recognize her. she quickly shook away all her thoughts once he started announcing the winners. " elijah as jigsaw came in first, cristian as hugh hefner came in second and naomi as selena came in third." his voice rang out throughout the party scene and a hard blush appeared on her cheeks as her name was called out.

ashley.

ashley weaved her way through the crowd, pushing her way into the bathroom and shutting the door behind her. it wasn’t until after she peed that she noticed an arm hanging over the edge of the tub. figuring it was just someone passed out, she pulled back the shower curtain, only to confirm her suspicion. “aw, gina,” she murmured, more to herself than gina, given her drunk state. “and your costume looks so real too.” leaning down, ash wrapped her arms around gina to try and lift her out of the tub. as she attempted to lift her up, suddenly things didn’t feel right. she had worked a lot with fake blood as she helped her friends get ready and it definitely didn’t feel like that. and it smelled to metallically. she took a step back, her hands shaking as she took a second look at gina. frozen where she stood, ashley’s mouth fell open. the slash across her throat wasn’t part of her zombie costume. the blood that had dripped all down her clothes and even gotten on ashley wasn’t fake. suddenly everything snapped back into reality for ashley and she let out a scream, backing away from the tub. it took her a few seconds before she was running for the door, throwing it open and grabbing on to whoever was closest to her. “g-gina.” she said to lana, pointing towards the bathroom. “she’s dead.”

lana.

by this point in the night, lana was already freaked out. she was still gripping the watch she'd found earlier upstairs so tight that her knuckles were turning white; not understanding what it meant. even with the frat guy talking over the speaker, she somehow could hear the watch ticking over it. she refused to believe that it was only in her head. there had to be a reasonable explanation as to why she found it, there had to be. she stood as far away as she could in the back of the crowd, practically in the hallway. her eyes rolled as the contest winners were announced, she never really cared about the competition. also, she could already imagine the comments they'd be getting on their social medias the next day about how the contest was rigged because the winners were each apart of the mysterybusters. lana let out a sigh, cracking her neck as she was debating if now was a good time to leave. it wasn't. ashley's scream made her flinch and immediately after hearing it, she ran over to the blonde. the bright red blood stood out on the girl's white costume and it was the first thing she noticed, "ashley?" she grabbed onto ashley's forearms. "w-what?" panic set in. beep, beep, beep. and her heart dropped. lana let go of ashley with the hand the watch was still in. the timer that was once counting down was currently on 00:00. "oh my god," some of the blood rubbed off of ashley and onto lana's hands. "come with me, come here!" she let ashley lean all of her weight onto her and she walked towards the crowd. "can someone fucking help?" her voice raised over elijah's who was making an acceptance speech.

elijah.

“i . . . won?” he’d never heard his name called out before, not unless it was followed by the familiar reprise of “you’re dead sutton” by those who were keen on terrorizing him. no, no one had ever picked him for anything. not first at least. last was a comfortable place for him, but first? first was new -- new but not unwelcome. “I WON MOTHERFUCKERS!!!!” no one had asked him to prepare a speak but he snatched the tiara off the girl next to him who had came as a princess and delivered his victory speech into a beer bottle, an improtu microphone. “i guess while i’m up here i’d like to say some thank yous. my dad for telling me i’d never succeed in life, so it would give me the drive to suceed today! trevor and julian for being lit roomates, though, julian’s cancelled for kissing ashley when my boy ‘saiah is cleeeearly into her. ash, you’re cancelled too -- sorry baby, that’s how it goes. vanessa just cause -- just cause dude, don’t ask and . . .lana for being covered in” his eyes went wide and while the girl next to him was distracted, he down her shot to try and placate his scary somewhat sobering realizations. “B-BLOOD?”

isaiah.

isaiah exhaled smoke, then inhaled more, his eyes half closed. he stood outside, with his back to the wall- hearing the announcement over all the screams. the entire place seemed to go quiet once they announced who won. he felt himself crack a small smile at the mention of elijah winning. good. he deserved it. isaiah had voted for him, and honestly - it was the one good thing to come out from tonight. suddenly, at the scream, isaiah felt his eyes snap open, immediately turning around and pushing open the porch door, to join into the main room, where elijah was rambling over everyone. but that scream- isaiah knew it. it was- "ashley?" he asked, joint dangling from mouth, eyes blinking her costume, once white, now covered in "B- BLOOD?" elijah's voice came out just at the same time that isaiah's did, his mouth opening in shock and almost dropping the joint right onto the carpet. "Hey, hey, hey." he walked over to ashley, who looked absolutely wrecked. "take a breath." lana was already half covered in blood too, talking about god knows what, but isaiahs attention was only on ashley, all other previous thoughts disregarded. "Take a breath, take a breath. are you okay? are you hurt?"

damaris.

she couldn't have timed her reappearance better if she'd tried, really. a minute sooner, she would have had to actually hear the contest announcement, and listen to elijah's full drunken speech. a minute later, she would have missed ashley and lana's entrance in all their bloodied up glory. it really was a sight to behold, much better than she could have hoped for - murmurs from other partygoers became shouts of terror in seconds, some of those not tied to the mysterybuster group making a quick beeline for the doors, others backing up in unease with a glazed look coming down across their faces. sabrina - well, she just stood there, watching, trying to keep the smile that had been on display since she had ripped off her bloodsoaked sheet at bay as the first of damaris' friends reached the girls, and then, she took that as her cue to move forward through the crowd, too. appearing at isaiah's shoulder, she wore her best concerned face and made sure that her voice was a couple octaves higher, and thus more shrill than required when she asked them both, as if she didn't know, as if she hadn't BEEN there- "what happened?"

bryce.

bryce couldn’t help but giggle as he left the room, trailing behind trevor, his costume for the most part in tact, although he was missing his vest and he was carrying a bra. in his drunken state he wasn’t sure how much time had passed- it could have been a few minutes it could have been a few hours- he really didn’t care. he just wanted to find his friends- and celebrate because this was turning out to be a great night. a smile spread across his face as he spotted lana, ashley, isaiah, damaris and elijah- making a beeline towards them. “hey guy-,” he started to say, before he came to an abrupt stop at the sight of the blood. “what the fuck?” he asked- his eyes wide as he took a step towards his friends- his drunk mind trying to comprehend what was going on- but it was all a blur.

naomi.

naomi heard the beep coming from the watch she and lana found all the way from where she was standing. there was no way it was just coincidental— the watch had to do something with what had just happened. the brunette quickly made her way towards lana, making sure not to get too close as she didn't want to get any blood on her. naomi didn't have to say anything, the look she gave the other basically said it all. the watch.

julian.

while all the chaos was going on in the main living space, julian had squeezed his way back into the kitchen, where he assumed to the two girls still were. upon entering, he saw kimi and verena, and didn’t give them a moment to talk before blurting out his immediately thoughts. “are you two okay? do you know what’s going on? everyone is freaking out–ashley’s not hurt, is she?” the last place he had seen the blonde was walking into the kitchen. now, she was covered in dark red blood. “do we need paramedics or anything?”

kimberly.

the sound of ashley's scream had pulled kimi from whatever reverie she had been in, rushing to see what was happening only to lay eyes on lana and ashley, in cahoots. the squint and head shake was almost instantaneous and she sauntered back to the kitchen. more alcohol seemed to be on the menu until julian came rushing in, frantic. it was then that an actual reaction settled into her veins, like cement. "wait, what? i thought she was just —" she started, but didn't finish her sentence, grabbing julian by the hand and rushing towards the dramatics that proved to be a lot bigger deal than she thought. she stuttered to a stop the moment she saw the blood, eyes fuzzing. her first instinct was to stay where she was, and she followed it, seeing that isaiah had the whole ashley freak out situation handled.

ashley.

ashley clung to lana, still not able to believe what she saw. overwhelmed by everyone running up to them, she released lana from her grasp and reached for isaiah, steadying herself on his arm. his words went in one ear and out the other, doing nothing to sooth her breathing. "i-it's not my blood," was the only response to his questions she could offer. "it's gina." she said, immediately feeling like she was going to throw up. "please someone go in the bathroom and tell me she's not dead. that her costume is just really good and her fake blood never dried and she passed out. please."

damaris.

if someone from the group was going to be the lucky discoverer - and there'd been a brief period of time where sabrina had FEARED it would be some other partygoer - then, she'd been hoping for elijah. when she'd thought of who would have the best reaction to the horror in the bathroom, she'd been able to see his sheet white face and saucer eyes far clearer than anyone elses. the boy loved his horror films, but she'd wanted to see how his stomach fared when confronted with a REAL LIFE scene. she wasn't disappointed by it being ashley, though. in fact - the blonde's reaction was perfect. "oh. thank god, ashley's alright," her voice was flat and mostly emotionless, not at all what you'd expect from someone who was relieved the blood that covered their friend wasn't their own, but... there really was only so much acting sabrina could do in one night. and she was gearing up for her best performance yet. "i'll check-" she made sure to say before anyone else could jump at the chance, inching around them and making her way to the bathroom she had vacated not too long before. the scene was how she remembered it, aside from ashley clearly having tried move the body- and yes, she knew without checking that gina was nothing more than a cadaver now. she disappeared behind the door, closer to the bath, out of sight only for as long as it took her to get her eyes watery and whole body shaky- reappearing after a suitable check time had passed and grasping at the doorframe with a white knuckled grip. "she- she's dead," if you asked sabrina, her trembling voice and crocodile tears, that started spilling right then, made for abeautiful act, "i didn't- i thought- oh my god, gina- she's DEAD."

julian.

a lot of things were happening all at once. julian's heart was racing more than it was when he was making out with ashley only a little while ago. he put one hand on kimi's arm, making sure that she was staying right at his side. "okay, okay–i'm calling the cops." the exact words no frat boys want to hear at their party. he fumbled to get his phone out of his pocket, quickly using the emergency slider to dial 911. julian's urge to take control over the situation was quickly escalating. "someone–isaiah, get ashley some water, get her calmed down. damaris–" he was connected through to an operator, and stopped speaking to listen. "yeah, we need police and–paramedics, i think, at 6172 19th avenue," he rattled off the address from the flyer he'd seen, "we think someone died–" julian took a breath, "or, been killed. i don't…" he looked up, hoping someone could give him an answer.

daniel.

daniel had spent much of the night outside or in the basement, socializing amongst delta psi brothers and other students he would never see again outside of a party. clad in a basketball jersey and shorts, it was expected he would be cold --- but with a bottle in his hand and beer burning through his system, he didn't feel a thing. had he paid attention enough, he should have sensed something was wrong by the way the people outside started to buzz --- though it wasn't until he heard someone yell something through the dull roar of the music about a dead girl that the frigid cold seemed to settle in his bones. it would be easy to assume it was a prank or some joke, but daniel was quick to start shoving his way back inside, the glass bottle slipping from his fingertips and dropping to the sidewalk outside the entrance with a clang. the commotion was easy to find once inside and the closer he got, the more familiar faces his unfocused eyes seemed to land on. the cacophony of deafening sounds seemed to dull, but julian's voice --- KILLED --- felt clear as day as daniel reached out to one of his friends. a hand settled on bryce's shoulder, steadying himself as he stepped into the near-circle the others had formed. with a voice too steady for someone who felt so uncertain, so concerned for his clearly shaken up friends, he spoke, "is everyone okay? what the hell is happening?"

lana.

she was speechless; something that was a real rare occurrence for her. as soon as ashley let her go, she took the watch into the palms of her bloody hands. damaris’ confirmation echoed in her thoughts, ‘she’s dead’. this could not be happening. her eyes steadily rose to meet naomi’s when she felt the girl’s presence next to her. she stared at her with her mouth hanging open. once she heard julian calling the police, she took a few slow and clumsy steps back. she felt like her heart was beating out of her chest, that the room was spinning; the last thing lana needed right now was a full blown panic attack. the crowd surrounding them was making it that much worse. half of them were calling out to them that they were liars and it was simply a prank, the other half were running scared. she figured that the best thing she could do for herself and everyone else was to go outside. she bolted to the back door, searching for some fresh air and letting the watch drop to the floor in the process.

julian.

"a party?" julian repeated the question the phone operator gave him. yes, a party. confused and growing more anxious the more things escalated, he stuttered in response. "y-yeah. yeah, this is a party." the operator sighed. "excuse me?" julian questioned, loudly. while the operator spoke to him, he watched as lana bolted out the front door, adding another unneeded stress to his rapidly growing list. "no–no, it's not a fucking prank!" he was practically yelling now, clenching his phone tightly. "are you fucking serious? no–" he looked again at the blood-clad ashley, and to damaris, who had just come face-to-face with a dead body. "we need fucking police. now. not–no! not in forty minutes!" now, julian was yelling, and not holding back. that is when the voice on the other end of the phone finally cut off. he looked at the screen, to make sure it wasn't his phone malfunctioning. "they think it's a fucking prank!" he yelled out, frustrated, to no one in particular. he dialed the number again, resilient.

isaiah.

Isaiah glanced over at damaris , in surprise at the flatness of her voice. However, he didn’t budge or move away from Ashley- not yet, when it was clear she was seconds away from a panic attack. A part of him was so concerned about her that he didn’t even really take in that someone was dead. His hands went to her shoulders, rubbing them up and down. When the name “Gina” came out, Isaiah felt himself still. “Gina? I- are you sure?” He didn’t mean to sound doubtful but it washalloween. As Julian instructed him on getting Ashley a glass of water, a petty part within him wanted to snap for Julian to do it, if he was so interested in ashley. But no- that didn’t matter. Not at all, when chaos was breaking out and somebody was dead. “Damaris , are you alright?” He couldn’t help calling out, noting she was acting strange again. As he glanced over to Julian, who was frustrated with his phone, Isaiah pulled out his own one, arms falling from Ashley. “Guys just- wait.” Isaiah called out. “If a whole bunch of us call, they’ll still think it’s a prank.” He took in a breath trying to think. “Julian, stay calm. Talk to them rationally.” Isaiah almost felt out of body, as he spoke. “ and nobody - nobody move . Don’t go to the bathroom, if it’s true then it’s a crime scene ,.. we can’t contaminate it.” He looked around. “Right?”

cristian.

walking out of a nearby bedroom door from all the commotion, cristian was immediately hit with a wave of bad vibes, an intoxication of indescribable terror fogging up the good time he was having merely minutes ago. he had been naive to think that tonight would be just an ordinary night, hoping that he could escape all his problems and just attend a party like a normal person. especially considering how himself he felt at the beginning of the evening, thinking that the very thing ( emmerson ) possessing his being wouldn’t bother him that night, but he was wrong -- and it was in a way cristian couldn’t have expected. of course, cristian’s ideas about his demonic state came as bits and pieces that he tried to piece together, but the feeling in the room in that moment was more than clear. something was wrong. cristian had stepped out just in time to hear julian explain over the phone that someone had been killed, and as if almost naturally, his gaze darted toward damaris. her face etched with surprise -- yet something else told him otherwise. another part of him gave him the inkling that there was something behind that facade, and it wasn’t good. it took him everything he had not to disappear back into that bedroom, especially given how late he had come in and how he never looked good in these situations, but he stopped himself. in that moment, cristian realized that he was truly fighting something stronger than he ever expected, and although he was frozen with horror, he couldn’t let it win just yet. so he forced himself to regain confidence and step in. the pestering eyes and talking mouths of the innocent bystanders freaking out ( those still left at the party, some even snapping a few pics on their phones ) only made the suffocation in the room worse, so with the sternest voice he could muster, cristian shouted, "and what the fuck are you all staring at ? you heard the man, someone's dead. quit the fucking gocking and give us some space, or fucking leave."

ashley.

it felt like ashley's world was crashing down around her as damaris confirmed what she had seen. she let out a choked sob, not even sure when she had started crying, bringing a shaky hand to cover her face. she could hear everyone talking, but their words didn't mean anything to her. all she could think about was gina. how she had everyone's coffee orders memorized, how she was one of the only people that had never rolled her eyes at ashley, how her parents were going to have to find out about their daughter, how she had felt in ashley's arms when she tried to move her from the tub. and suddenly, ashley felt lightheaded. as isaiah let go of her, she took a few steps backwards, until she was leaning against the wall in an attempt to steady herself. her tear-filled eyes widened as she tuned in enough to hear what isaiah was saying; about how it was a crime scene. and ashley remembered she was covered in blood. "are they gonna think i hurt her? i-i didn't," she insisted, her voice shaking. overwhelmed, she slid down the wall, taking a seat on the ground and putting her head in her hands.

isaiah.

as soon as cristian entered the room, isaiah couldn't help saying. "where have you been?" maybe a bit too loudly, a bit too accusatory. he genuinely didn't mean it that way, he was just shaken. he was surprised. he was numbly aware that his joint was still lit. shit. shit, this would not look good for him. for any of them, but everyone knew police didn't take kindly to anybody who wasn't sheer porcelain coloured. "fuck." he swore, under his breath, his hands beginning to shake. fuck, fuck. a part of him wanted to run, but then at ashley's sob, he forgot all about himself- instead turning his attention to her. she was backed up against the wall, and he swooped in, hands, going to cup her face, and try and get her to focus on him. "no. no. they won't think you hurt her." he said firmly. no way in hell could anyone think that about ashley. "it's okay. you're okay. you're okay." he repeated softly, dropping his hands from her face, to her shoulders. "tell me what i can do, ash. tell me how to make this better. or how to help." he felt like he was grasping at straws, he'd just never dealt with anything even close to like this before. "after the police get here, naomi and mari will help get you cleaned up, okay? i promise. it won't be long."

micah.

it'd all gotten too overwhelming for micah. it wasn't something he would admit to anyone. not even isaiah, who'd witnessed some of it. and maybe that was it, too. he was embarrassed. micah prided himself on not letting it show when he was at his weakest. over a year with all of them, and none of them had any clue how messed up he was; not more than he let them see. but isaiah had seen, and he couldn't ---- okay. he'd ran. after his conversation with isaiah, he really had tried going back into the party. he tried to act as if it was a normal party when his lips were on someone else's, hot, open-mouth kisses that tastes like bad alcohol and desperation, and he almost forgot. then there were hands again, and --- okay. he'd ran. he'd pushed past all of the hands and the costumes and the kind faces, and he'd locked himself in a room. and if he'd had a freak out in there, that was no one's business but his own. when he came back out, some twenty or so minutes later, he was expecting to just sneak away, but there was a crowd forming around someone. multiple someones, and he unfortunately knew all of them. there really was no debate on the matter. plans of escaping abandoned, he made his way to the crowd, pushing his way towards the front. he only caught the tail end of it all, and decided to save his when and how for later. he swallowed the bile rising in his throat --- fuck, it was gina --- and knelt next to ashley. if she was the one who found gina, the cops would want to talk to her. in the state she was in, ther was no way she would be able to. "they'll question you, but they won't blame you." for a moment, he hesitated. then: "do you want me to be there when they do?" he couldn't tell her story. due to his own cowardice, he wasn't there. but he was good at talking.

ashley.

ashley leaned into isaiah's touch, nodding as he repeated that she was okay. she didn't know if she believed him yet, but she really wanted to. shrugging off his question, ashley wished she had an answer for him, but she didn't know what could possibly make anything better. except for maybe a hug, but she didn't want to get blood on anyone else. "could i change?" she paused, visibly deflating. "i don't have any other clothes." she let out a shaky breath, standing stiff as she could feel the blood drying on her. accepting isaiah's words of reassurance with a nod, all ashley could do was hope he was right. rubbing her face with her hands as she sat down, she couldn't help but wish julian still had his paper towels; she was in desperate need of a tissue. she turned to micah as he knelt down next to her, nodding as he explained. "is that allowed? but yeah, it'd be really nice if you were there, micah." she couldn't quite wrap her head around the whole situation, including how micah and isaiah were able to hold it together enough to comfort her. she shot micah the best smile she could muster, "thanks."

isaiah.

Isaiah was more then glad to see Micah, although he hadn’t even known that Micah was still here. He hadn’t seen the boy in a while so he’d assumed he’d left, like he’d originally wanted to. Now though, Isaiah is glad to see him- especially when it visibly relaxes Ashley too. Isaiah reaches over, for a spare cup, and fills it up with water. The water sloshes over the side of the cup, from his shaky hands. The word dead keeps ringing in his mind, and he can’t get over how much blood is on ashley, and now lana. A bit is even on Isaiah, from him gripping Ashley’s hands. He stares at the red for a long time, before returning to give the cup to Ashley. “Here. Just keep breathing, okay? You’re safe. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” He breathed out. Isaiah’s eyes went up to Julian, ”any luck?”

julian.

after calling the service twice more, they had decided to patch julian through to the police station itself, no longer wanting to deal with his immature prank calls he was making to impress his fraternity friends. when people started to clear out of the house, it made him a little more relaxed-if there was anyone set to deal with the situation at hand, it was his ragtag group of friends. “cristian?” he said, his phone call still being transferred over, “can you make sure no one else goes in there? no one needs to see it.” it. he couldn’t even say the girl’s name, a nauseated feeling in the pit of his stomach keeping him from doing so. isaiah caught his attention next, julian a little relieved to see that the other boy didn’t have a murderous look to his eyes. “i’m trying to talk to the actual police. if i can convince them it’s not a joke, they’ll be here in a second.” he tried to keep his summary hopeful for the shaken girl on the floor.

daniel.

the news was sobering as he scrambled to piece together the story --- GINA. she was dead. the fact didn't seem to break through to him, but on some level his intoxicated mind felt more alert, fighting against his body to find clarity enough to step up and help. daniel's eyes swept over the group around them, trying to take stock of who was there with them and the state of them all. his stomach dropped to his feet at the sight of ashley, the front of her top stained a deep russet color as the, the --- fuck, it was hard to believe this was happening. daniel wanted to kick himself for not being more present with his friends to have been there for them sooner, but instead his mind started running a thousand miles a minute, trying to determine what the next steps should be. was there any way to encourage everyone to leave WITHOUT inducing a state of panic? probably not. "should we find the president, let him know what needs done?" daniel's sluggishness gave way to jittery movements as he looked at each of the mysterybusters individually. "or campus police. they've been out all night, there's bound to be an officer somewhere nearby."

isaiah.

Isaiah let out a shaky breath of air, still holding onto Ashley, but looming over at Julian now. “Okay good. You’re doing a really good job, dude.” Anybody else and they would have completely lost their head, and Isaiah wouldn’t blame them. But right now... everyone needed to stay together and stay calm. Isaiah was surprised to see Daniel appear now too, having forgotten he was even around. The entire night was becoming more and more blurry and hazy to Isaiah. He still couldn’t quite believe that Gina could be dead. Maybe she was just seriously hurt. Maybe she still had a chance. She had to. He swallowed harshly, tearing out of his thoughts to nod along at Daniels words “it’s a good idea but none of us should leave. Not yet. Julian might get through to someone. I know it sucks but we have to wait.” His eyes went to every group member now, staying on cristian for a beat longer “look, I know it’s going to be hard but I’m begging you guys... we gotta stay calm when they get here.” His own mind thought back to the way his mum had always raised him to speak to police. Polite. Courteous. Patient. Always. ’don’t give them a chance’. He repeated these words now, to the group. “They’ll take any chance they can get to pin it on one of us, alright? So no matter what they say or ask, we gotta stay calm and level. Promise me.”

bryce.

Bryce was confused- he was vaguely aware of what was going on but he had yet to fully comprehend the severity of the situation or that Gina was dead. He just saw the blood and the panic on everyone's faces. His eyes were wide as he turned his head constantly looking back and forth at his friend's faces. "This is-" he started to say- before stopping, what was he supposed to say? This was crazy? That was pretty obvious. Unsure what to do- he sat down, his back pressed against the wall. If they needed him to do something he'd be there but otherwise he was just going to stay out of the way.

micah.

micah had dealt with the police before. never anything big; when neighbors complained about the arguing, and the few times a teacher suspected something at home. meaningless interactions, in the grand scheme of things, and never enough to change anything, but enough. cops were smart; they pulled things out of you, whether you wanted them to or not. and, unfortunately, isaiah was right — inevitably, they would try to blame the mysterybusters. he didn't want to be the one to say it; it would only add to the panic. the only reason he was staying calm was because he hadn't been before, and someone had to be. "i... can do what i can to help when we give statements. it's not questioning, so we don't have to be alone. people get shaken up doing this kind of thing, so it's allowed. if you're worried about giving a statement, you can ask to wait for a lawyer. it's not required, given that they haven't tried to pin anything on us yet, but..." he looked around again. everyone looked terrified. what was he supposed to do? he wasn't the comforting type, and had no idea how to calm them down. he didn't touch ashley; didn't know if she'd want his comfort or want space. so he backed away, moving to sit next to bryce, back to the wall and shoulders almost pressed together. some kind of party this was.

naomi.

naomi had no idea how to react to the news. gina's dead— that couldn't possibly be true. she had just seen her not even an hour ago playing beer pong inside. her eyes wandered around to everyone in the group and the reality of one of their friends being brutally murdered started to sink in. "i— so what do we do? just stand here in a circle like a bunch of idiots just waiting for them to pin it on us? we're going to look more suspicious if all of us just stay here."

julian.

“no, no–” as soon as he could, julian began to shoot down ideas. “no one can leave. none of us, at least. lana–” he sighed, remembering her running straight out the door. “nomi, can you get lana back here? just text her, don’t–no one leaves, okay?” a deep voice on the other end of his phone finally started to come through, and he held it closer to his ear, hoping to catch every word that was being spoken to him. “yes–yeah, that was me… no, officer, this isn’t a joke…” the pause he took made julian’s head fall back, holding back a loud groan. “i know you’re busy, but there is a literal dead body sitting in a bathroom right now, and everyone–” the thing julian hated most was being cut off. while he’d normally fight back, he didn’t dare do so with an officer who was finally taking him seriously. “okay, yes–thank you.” he pulled the phone away for a second, “ten minutes!” he said, loud enough for all his friends to hear. julian brought the phone close again just in time to hear the officer’s next question. “um…” did anyone see who did it? “i… no… i don’t think so.” no eyewitness accounts? julian looked around the room, his tan skin falling a bit pale. it was something he hadn’t had the chance to take into consideration. someone had been killed, yes. but by who? the officer hung up, after mentioning a team had just been sent out, and julian slowly lowered and looked at his phone. "just ten minutes," he repeated, his voice quieter this time.

damaris.

"are we allowed to leave to get a glass of water?" was her sudden contribution, words snappier than she had intended. immediately, she backtracked- back to the fake tremble that had been lost in her impatience with julian and the others, back to a semblance of how damaris would act, if she were being confronted with the reality of one friend dead and another, panicked. "i mean- ashley could probably do with one, right, ash?-" she did her best to look shaken as she added, "and i- i could do with some too. i'm not really...- i don't feel so good." it was true that the sight of blood didn't do much for damaris- it made her stomach do unpleasant turns that sabrina wasn't yet accustomed to and was ready to play up, if it meant she could leave the gathered group for five minutes and check to see what the drunken frat boys had done to the pile of furniture and rubbish they'd been ready to burn for sport, a quarter of an hour earlier. if the police were really on their way- and she'd been so hoping they'd leave off for a little while longer- then she needed to make sure that their bonfire had burned before chaos had erupted. "i won't be gone long. just a few minutes."

vanessa.

the second ashley and julian had been spotted disappearing to ( assumably ) do things God certainly would not approve of, vanessa dipped away to avoid the onslaught of awkwardness rising. it was only after a few drinks and one accidental keg-stand ( it was a TOTAL accident, okay ) was she finally prepared to see what drama had been stirred up within her only friends at university. stumbling through the littered grass lawn, a wobbly smile spread across her face, she pushed past the doorway to something far worse than she could have imagined. despite being no where near her friends or the terror that had ensued, vanessa could simply feel that something was terribly wrong. her entire body went cold, her head feeling as though a million church bells had been banged and clanged simultaneously. the buzzing in her limbs could not be differentiated from the bad vibes or her tipsiness, but either way it was not the most comfortable feeling. " w-what's going on?? " she mumbled, head in her hands as she finally came upon the others. the grim expressions were enough to confirm her fears... along with ashley's blood-stained costume. " PLEASE tell me that's just the nasty juice they've been serving from the kitchen and not actual, real-life, dead person blood. "

julian.

"damaris, just h–" before he could even tell the girl to stay put, she was already out of the room. “seriously?” he let out an over-exaggerated sigh, running his palms over his face, rubbing his eyes. it took vanessa’s voice to pull him back into reality, moving his hands away and looking at her. a little too calmly, he asked, "do you want me to lie to you?" julian checked his phone, hoping that time had gone faster than it seemed. he was disappointed to find out hardly a couple minutes had passed. "i wanna keep everyone here because if whoever did that is still around, anyone off on their own is a stupid sitting duck," there was a little bit of vile to his words as he looked off to where damaris had gone, anxious for her to return to the group.

micah.

really, micah thought, it wouldn't make a difference. whether they were here or scattered, they would all be in trouble. "man, it doesn't matter," he said, breaking from the quiet conversation he was having with bryce. he kept a hand on bryce's shoulder, rooting him to the moment, in hopes that he wouldn't space out again. ( note to self: google what to do when your friend does... well, that. ) "just... you're not helping." there was little fight in his voice. he was so physically and mentally exhausted, from the panic attacks to the discovery of what had happened, that he could hardly muster up any anger towards julian. "b and i can go look for her. but acting like you is just going to make things worse. everyone's freaked out enough without your help." and, ah, there was that familiar hatred. at least that felt normal. "and, frankly—" he stopped himself before he could finish that thought. no, that wasn't fair. that was the exhaustion and the hatred talking. none of them did it. they couldn't have.

isaiah.

this was not going well. isaiah could already make out blue and red flashing lights outside, and it wasn't doing much to alleviate the overall panic. "guys, don't argue." isaiah said, with a small sigh, putting up a bloody hand to his head briefly, as if he had a headache. he felt one coming on, anyways. as the blue and red lights continued, the sound of the police siren could be heard too, getting louder and louder. "guys! they're here! can we all just- take a moment." he glanced over at naomi. "nobody should leave. it won't look guilty if we just tell the truth." he insisted. suddenly there were loud thuds on the door. "POLICE. OPEN UP." isaiah almost jumped right out of his skin, his anxiety at an all time high. he didn't want to leave ashley. so instead, he glanced around for anybody else to answer the door. as soon as damaris started talking, isaiah's eyebrows raised, his heart beginning to thump louder and louder. "Wait - what?" he said, eyes widening as she jumped up, moving in a pace quicker then he'd ever seen her move before. she disappeared, and immediately isaiah knew something wasn't right. "mari-" he stood up finally, straightening up, and taking a few steps from ashley, in order to follow damaris- just as the door slammed open, and suddenly- police were swarming in. immediately, there was even more chaos. isaiah was blinded by police flashlights, squinting, and he moved forward- not to the police, but to get damaris. "HEY!" one of the officers yelled out. isaiah shook his head. "no, officer, i just need to get-" he tried to explain, making a move forward once again. suddenly, guns were up, trained on him, and all the police were screaming. "DON'T MAKE ANOTHER MOVE." "-he's got blood on his hands-" "PUT YOUR HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE THEM." isaiah felt overwhelmed suddenly, like he might pass out, as he tried to shake his head and explain. "no, no, it's not- i'm not-" he tried to explain, uselessly, but it did nothing to calm them. isaiah's hands went up, immediately. but it didn't matter. "KEEP YOUR HANDS UP." suddenly, the police were moving towards him, and isaiah felt helpless. "what are you-" he began, just as he felt the clink of metal around his wrist suddenly. no. "YOU'RE UNDER ARREST."

ashley.

still clinging to isaiah with one hand, ashley took small slow sips of the water he had handed her, in a desperate attempt to calm down. it wasn't working. his reassuring words were drowned out by all of the other noise, as everyone argued about what they should do. ashley knew there was no way she could go anywhere covered in gina's blood, so all she could do was wait for the police. she was just glad that soon people that knew how to handle a situation like that would be there, completely unaware of how suspicious she looked covered in blood and without an alibi. letting out a shaky breath as she heard the sirens getting closer, ashley loosened her grip on isaiah, but didn't stray far from his side. at least until he went to follow damaris. jumping slightly as the door slammed against the wall, ashley took a step back, her heart dropping to her stomach. she was barely registering what the cops were saying until she heard mention of blood; she knew she shouldn't have touched anyone. "wait," she called out, finally finding her footing, and heading in isaiah's direction. "the blood, it's my fault," she started, before she was whisked away by an officer that noticed her blood stained shirt and figured a pretty blonde had to be a victim. "no, he didn't do anything," she cried out, helplessly, ignoring the questions about where the blood had came from and trying to get a better look at what was happening to isaiah. seeing an officer put cuffs around his wrists, ashley's mouth fell open, but no words came out. trying to take a step forward, she was cut off by the officer insisting that she explain what had happened to her.

naomi.

naomi had pulled her phone out, ready to text lana to come back and rejoin the group so they could figure out this mess(tm) together right when the police had knocked down the frat door. everything had happened so fast naomi could hardly comprehend it. isaiah was currently being handcuffed and escorted out of the house... but why? he had done nothing wrong, she hadn't even seen him go upstairs the entire night. naomi wanted to say something but no idea what so instead she deleted her original message for lana and replaced it with 'go home. cops are here and they just took isaiah. we'll talk later'

bryce.

Bryce was still pretty much out of it, so instead of focusing on what was going on with the group as a whole he concentrated on his conversation with Micah. Talking made things easier but he still felt like he was going to be sick- so he tugged on Micah's sleeve and whispered "I don't feel good," into his ear. However- before anything else could happen he saw the situation change. Everything still sounded like it was happening in another room but he watched the police argue with Isaiah and he saw them place the handcuffs on him. "W-what" he stammered, what had Isaiah done? He couldn't have killed Gina- Isaiah would never hurt anyone. Unsure what else to do he turned to look at Micah for some sort of explanation- or reassurance that everything was going to be okay. Although he knew it wouldn't.

micah.

micah's head snapped to bryce, eyes widening. he put a hand on his back, prepared to lead him out and to a bathroom or kitchen or something — anywhere he could be sick, and away from this mess. then the door was opening, and the cops were storming in, and they were coming for isaiah. micah stood, a pure and burning rage in his eyes. "he didn't do shit," he snapped, perhaps overly defensive of the boys he'd shared so few conversations with. and maybe was a pessimist, but ignoring the blonde girl covered in blood for the one black guy in the group looked an awful lot like racism. he felt sick just at the thought. it didn't matter how he felt, he'd defend julian against that. micah took a step forward, prepared to fight for isaiah because there was no way he did this, but was stopped by the look in bryce's eyes. he was still confused, maybe not even all the way there. micah couldn't go getting himself arrested. he couldn't lose his head, especially when bryce wasn't even sure what was going on. "they're arresting him because he's clearly the best suspect." his tone was dripping acid, his gaze unforgiving as he returned a nasty look to one of the cops. without ever fighting the battle, they'd already lost this one.

damaris.

evidently, drunken frat boys could NOT be trusted to do anything that wasn't drink more cheap beer or hit on every conventionally attractive girl that walked by. as per the usual, it had been well proven that if you wanted something done right, then you had to step up and do it yourself - especially when it came to disposing of the most incriminating evidence against you. the glee she'd felt after gina had been found vanished when she realized the discovery had been made just a bit too soon, resulting in the students who'd been seconds away from lighting up their makeshift pyre abandoning the same, either to run in and find out what was going on, or to run away from the frat. the sheet seemed untouched where she'd stuffed it, and in their haste, someone had left behind the box of matches they'd intended to use on the kitchen counter she breezed by on her way outside. theoretically, it should have been easy enough and taken just moments- a quick flick of the wrist to light one up, a carefully chosen piece of material that'd go up easily, and she'd have a fire that would build up before the cops reached the scene, and destroy the evidence before they managed to get a firetruck to turn up, too. unfortunately, it seemed that sabrina's luck had well and truly turned.

she got the match lit, alright - right as noise erupted behind her from the house, shouts of 'its the cops' being carried through as partygoers that hadn't already made a run for it rushed out the back door in a new attempt to do so. they'd been sooner than expected - a little surprising, considering their refusal to turn up at all at first - and sabrina... well. she suddenly had to RUSH to do a job she should have had more time for. no time to choose her firestarter, she threw the match amongst the combustibles and hoped for the best before disappearing into the crowd that was heading out and down the street instead of rejoining those she'd left inside. it'd be hard to explain - where she had gone, what she had been DOING, why she hadn't returned - whatever happened next, there were going to be answers expected to the questions that the group would have. but of one thing she was absolutely sure, and it was enough to bring that half smile back to her features as the house became nothing but a blip in the background- she wouldn't be doing the answering.

#event » 003.

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