#yeah I do stuff on purpose. I know I'm doing it

[woogilicious]

rent's cheap, ghost included ꒰ wooyoung ꒱

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ pairing: broke college student!wooyoung x ghost!reader (gender neutral ⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ word count: 2.4k words ⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ genre: comedy, fluff, hurt/comfort, supernatural au, soft angst ⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ warnings: curse words, discussions of depression, suicidal thoughts, mentions of death (non graphic), wooyoung being an annoying little shit sometimes ⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ a.n: this oneshot is more casual than the others and it's actually my favourite, lol. i know it sounds cliché, but i just really love this type of storyline so much.

You don't know who the hell decided to rent out your house to another human so soon. It's been, what? Two months since the last one moved out? And you were this close to getting peace and quiet.

But nope. Now you're stuck with watching some college kid struggle to drag in a suitcase twice his size and sad looking rice cooker into your kitchen.

You float near the ceiling, arms crossed, frowning hard enough to wrinkle the ghostly air around you.

He's muttering under his breath the whole time. "God, finally," he says, wiping sweat off his forehead with the sleeve of his hoodie. "I don't even care if this place is haunted. It's cheap, and I'm broke, so I've accepted death."

You narrow your eyes. He's accepted death? Oh, honey. We'll see about that.

You watch as he dumps his stuff in the middle of the dusty living room, sighs deeply, and flops onto the floor, face first. You wait for a bit.

...now.

You blow a cold breeze past his ear. He shivers, shrugs his hoodie up to cover his head like a turtle, and immediately starts snoring.

What?

No screaming? No running away? He's just... asleep?

You float down closer, staring at him. He's cute, you guess. A little stupid, maybe. Who sleeps on the floor without a blanket?

Fine, you'll step it up.

Later that night, after he wakes up and shuffles into the kitchen to cook himself some instant noodles, you slam the cupboard doors. Not once, not twice, but eight times.

He doesn't even flinch, just stands there, stirring his sad little noodles, muttering, "Me too, buddy," like he's the one haunting YOU.

You rattle the windows, and he throws a thumbs up at the ceiling.

You drag a chair across the floor with an awful screech and he shouts, "Sounds good, friend!" and keeps eating.

You...

You don't know what to do with this guy.

He's ruining your reputation as a ghost.

You float around, sulking, until you finally decide that if he won't be scared of invincible ghost you, then you'll just show yourself.

You remember the last tine you showed yourself. An old man had almost died of a heart attack and you felt so bad that you cried.

But Wooyoung? He deserves it.

You focus real hard, pulling your form together. It's a little tricky since you haven't done it in a while, but you manage. A little translucent, and a little floaty, but you look decent.

You drift right in front of him while he's standing by the sink, trying to get the hot water to work.

"Hi," you say, your voice a little echoey and spooky on purpose. "I'm the ghost haunting this house."

He blinks, dropping the mug he was holding which thankfully, was empty. He tilts his head a little. Then, with all the enthusiasm as if someone finding out their favourite ramen flavour was back in stock, he grins and goes, "Cool!"

You stare at him and he stares back, so genuinely delighted that you actually float back a little, suspicious.

"So―" he sets the mug on the counter carefully. "Are you, like, a real ghost? Or, like, a stress hallucination? I mean, either way it's fine, but it'd be sick if you were real."

You blink at him, a little thrown off. "...I'm real."

He pumps a fist in the air. "Hell yeah! This house is awesome, cheap rent and I get a new friend? Awesome!"

You don't even know what to say to that. No one's ever been happy to see you before. You're kinda... weirdly flattered?

After that first night, everything gets... weird.

Day by day, Wooyoung just keeps talking to you. You don't even have to show yourself anymore. Half the time, you're just floating somewhere near the ceiling, watching him live his life like he's got an invisible roommate.

And oh my god.

He. does. not. shut. up.

You kinda thought he would calm down after a while. Maybe get tired of talking to a ghost who barely replies.

But, nope! Turns out, for someone who is constantly tired and has panda eyes and sighs like he's carrying the weight of the world on his back... he's got a lot of mouth energy.

"Today I dropped a whole box of paper towel at work and my manager looked at me like I committed a crime," he tells you one afternoon, kicking his shoes off and throwing himself face-first onto the couch. "Like dude, calm down? It's just a paper towel, not some fragile diamonds."

You hover over the lamp, just blinking slowly.

He waves a hand in the air, half heartedly. "Yeah, yeah. I know. Your silence is valid too, and you're so real for that."

Some nights, he sits cross-legged on the floor, eating cup noodles as usual and watching weird documentaries on YouTube. All of a sudden, he tells you some random facts.

"Did you know that octopuses have three hearts?" He says, pointing the noodle cup at you like it's a microphone. "And they can just vibe with no bones. Just, squish around."

You just float nearby, dead silent.

"I think you'd like being an octopus," he adds thoughtfully. "You're kinda floaty too."

Sometimes you wonder if you're the one who is getting haunted by this loud, chaotic, tired human.

Not that you mind, exactly. It's just new.

But one night, it's different.

You know the second he walks in.

He slams the door harder than usual. He doesn't kick his shoes off, doesn't mutter a tired "I'm home" like he always does.

You drift down from the ceiling, watching.

He throws his work apron onto the floor and his hands are shaking a little.

"Fucking―" he starts, then cuts himself off, dragging his hands through his hair. "Customers are the worst!"

He paces the living room in circles. You follow him slowly, floating just a few feet away.

"This one guy today," he says, voice getting louder, "This asshole―he yelled at me for like, five minutes straight because the yogurt he wanted was sold out. Like I fucking make the yogurt myself, right?"

You float quietly.

He's not really talking to you. He's just letting it all pour out.

"I hate it," he mumbles. "I hate this stupid job. I hate that I'm broke. I hate that I'm killing myself for college when I'm not even smart. I'm just doing it because―" he stops, swallowing hard. "―because if I don't, my parents will be disappointed. Tsk, like they aren't already."

You reach out without thinking―your hand passing through his shoulder gently―trying to comfort him, even if he can't feel it.

Wooyoung laughs a little, but it's not the funny kind. It's broken.

He sits down hard on the couch, staring at the floor, then he looks up, right at you.

Even though you're invisible, somehow, he knows where you are.

"...Hey," he says, voice small. "Is it fun? Being a ghost?"

You blink.

"Like... is it better?" he keeps going, softer now. "Do you get to just... stop worrying about stupid shit? Like bills and parents and yogurt?"

He huffs a breath that's almost a laugh.

"I mean, if it's better," he says, looking back at the floor, "Maybe I should just―you know? Join you."

The room goes very, very quiet.

And you.

You feel something deep in your chest, something you haven't felt in a long time. Fear.

Not for yourself.

For him.

You don't even hesitate to pull your form together. No more floating half-there, no more hiding. You focus until you're solid enough that he can see you clearly.

You step forward, right in front of him, and say―out loud, real and desperate―"No. Don't do that."

Wooyoung's hand snaps up. His eyes go wide, so wide and then―just like that, he breaks.

He lets out this raw, awful sob and crumples forward, burying his face in his hands. It's not loud, or dramatic. It's quiet, like it hurts too much to even cry properly.

"I'm so tired," he chokes out between broken gasps. "I'm so fucking tired of pretending."

You kneel down in front of him, trying to catch his gaze, but he just keeps talking, keeps pouring it out like a dam that has finally broke.

"Everyone thinks I'm―" he waves a hand weakly. "The funny guy, the loud guy, the one who never shuts up. And I guess you probably think that too."

Well, that is true.

"But I'm just..." he presses his hands harder against his face. "I'm just filling up the silence so I don't have to think about how empty I feel. I'm trying so hard to make life feel like it's worth living."

He looks up, and god, his face is so red and wet and messy that it hurts to look at.

"But to me... it's nothing."

Your chest aches.

You don't think. You just move.

You wrap your arms around him, and somehow, somehow, for the first time, he can feel you.

His body stiffens in shock for half a second. Then he breaks even more, grabbing onto you like he's drowning.

He doesn't care that you're supposed to be a ghost.

He doesn't care that you're supposed to be scary.

He just needs to be held.

"Let me," he whispers, voice totally wrecked. "Let me join you."

You shake your head hard. You pull back just enough to cup his tear streaked face in your hands, forcing him to look at you.

"No," you whisper. "Please. Don't waste your life."

He shudders.

"I know it's hard," you say, your voice shaking. "I know it feels like there's no point sometimes. But you're still here. You're still breathing. You're still fighting, even when it sucks."

You swipe your thumb under his eyes, wiping a tear.

"…and that's brave, Wooyoung. Braver than anything I ever did."

He frowns, confused through the tears. "What do you mean?"

You exhale slowly.

"I became a ghost," you say, "because I gave up."

His eyes widen.

"I thought… if I stopped trying, the pain would stop too. And it did. Kind of? But now I'm stuck."

You glance around the living room, the cracked walls, the flickering lightbulb.

"I'm stuck here, watching life go on without me. Watching people laugh and cry and live—even when it's messy, painful and unfair and I can't be a part of it anymore."

You look back at him, and your voice cracks.

"I would give anything to have another chance. To eat bad noodles, to get yelled at by annoying customers. To walk down a street and feel the sun."

You grip his shoulders tighter.

"And no matter how bad I want to have another chance, I can't. But you still can."

He stares at you, breathing hard, hands still clutching your sleeves like he's scared if you'll disappear if he lets go.

"Please," you whisper. "Don't throw it away. Not like I did."

You don't know how long you stay like that, holding him. But slowly, Wooyoung's breathing starts to even out. He blinks up at you with swollen eyes and puffy cheeks and somehow still manages a tiny, tired laugh.

"You're kinda… a terrible ghost," he croaks. "Aren't you supposed to scare me away or something?"

You smile a little, brushing his messy hair off his forehead. "Maybe," you whisper. "But I think you're scarier."

He snorts. "Fair."

You squeeze his hand, gentle but firm.

"Wooyoung," you say softly. "You're not alone."

He swallows thickly.

"I'm here," you say. "I'll be here. As long as you need me."

You press your forehead lightly against his. Your voice drops to a whisper.

"Let's heal together."

He squeezes his eyes shut, tears leaking out again—but this time, they feel lighter.

"Yeah," he breathes. "Let's do that."

He pulls you into a hug again. Tight, real, so full of feeling you almost forget you're supposed to be a ghost. You hug him back just as hard.

After a long moment, he mumbles into your shoulder. "You gotta promise me, though. Promise me you won’t leave me."

You smile.

"I promise," you say.

Life doesn't magically fix itself overnight.

Wooyoung still comes home with bags under his eyes. He still has days where he slams the door and mutters about rude customers.

But he doesn't cry alone anymore, because you're there.

You're there when he drags himself into bed and mumbles goodnight to the ceiling. You're there when he rants about dumb professors and overpriced cafeterias food. You're there when he laughs too loud at memes on his phone and shows you even though you can't actually hold his phone yourself.

But slowly, you see the light coming back into him.

He even starts bringing back little cheap snacks from the convenience store. He leaves them on the counter with a little sticky note that says, "For ghostie" even though you physically can't eat them.

It makes you smile anyway.

Tonight is movie night.

You're curled up on the couch, or well, floating while cross legged slightly above the couch. While Wooyoung got three blankets wrapped around himself like a burrito, clutching a giant bowl of popcorn.

"Okay," he says, eyes shining. "We're watching a horror movie. A real one. None of that jumpscare baby stuff."

You raise an eyebrow at him. "You sure about that?"

He scoffs. "Pft. Yeah! I live with a ghost so I'm built different."

You smirk. "Right."

He picks some indie horror movie that looks grimy and messed up. Lots of dark woods, and creepy faces in mirror. Within fifteen minutes, Wooyoung is already sitting suspiciously closer to you. Within thirty minutes, he's gripping the popcorn bowl like his life depends on it.

You nudge him in the side.

He yelps so loud he throws a handful of popcorn straight into the air.

"Oh my god—!" he gasps, clutching his chest.

You stare at him.

"You," you say, pointing at him, "are scared of this?"

He scowls, cheeks turning red. "It's spooky, okay?!"

You float a little closer, crossing your arms.

"You literally live with a whole ass ghost. A real one." You jab a thumb at yourself. "Me. Hi. Real ghost."

He huffs. "Yeah, but you're not scary! You're—" he waves his arms vaguely. "You're you!"

You stare. He stares back, defensive.

Then you burst out laughing.

"Unbelievable," you snicker. "Wooyoung, living with a real life ghost, defeated by a low-budget horror film."

He grins, wide and stupid and alive.

And for the first time in a long, long time, you both feel it. Hope.

Real, stubborn, stupid, wonderful hope.

And maybe that's what living is, you think. Even if you're technically not breathing anymore. Just being here, together.

It’s messy and imperfect.

It's life.

[absifofhws]

— MATT'S FIRST YEAR AT THE OFFICE ESPRESSO¡READER X LATTE¡MATT STURNIOLO

warnings: slight cliffhanger, kinda fluffy, cute latte¡matt, split pov. wc: 1078 (intended lowercase)

matt's pov:

it was my first anniversary at the office, working for her. i've now concluded that while she's a great boss, she'll never be my friend. I know nothing about her other than her stupid coffee order, and when she gets out of work, i mean, i don't even know when she leaves — she stays behind for hours after the rest of us. i guess that's what it takes to be successful at our age.

i get to the office a little earlier than usual, look at my laptop, and see my emails from her. i answer them before getting everyone's coffees. by lunch, i felt like something was wrong, i mean no one had mentioned the fact it was my first whole year here, and i had like no work to do, barely any emails. it was on the calendar, everyone's milestones at the company were celebrated, i guess everyone just forgot about me.

"ugh, whatever," i say in my head as i get back to work. thinking it wasn't that big a deal, i mean other than this, it was still the best i was treated at any job.

two hours later:

it was almost the end of my day at work, i went over to the office kitchen to grab my tupperware from the fridge, but instead i'm met by the whole team, circled around a cake and a large card on the big table.

"what's all this?" i ask as i awkwardly pull the tupperware out of the fridge.

"you didn't think we all forgot, did you?" she says with a smile. she looks almost proud at getting one over me, surprising me. that's when i realised she had purposely spent less time talking to me; she had also given me less work than usual, probably because she was busy planning this.

"uhm, yeah, i kinda just thought everyone forgot," i say, as i scratch the nape of my neck.

"yeah, no, we didn't forget, we just spent literally all day arguing about what cake we thought you'd like," she says with a small smile. maybe this was finally it, my chance to get closer to her, "ah, so this is what had everyone avoiding me today, you were surprising me," i say jokingly, rolling my eyes, acting annoyed.

"fine, if that doesn't make up for it, everyone can leave work early today, and i guess we can get a couple drinks at the bar opposite the office," she says as she hands me the knife to cut the cake, that smelt like, "it's a vanilla cake with coffee buttercream. thought you would like it, latte," she says with a small smirk, still on about that stupid nickname, but i kinda liked it coming from her.

i cut the cake while the rest of my employees congratulate me on my first year here. i soon came to realise what she had said, just a minute prior, 'the bar'? she had never ever gone to get drinks with us. maybe this is my chance to make friends with her.

i don't know where this idea of becoming friends with 'espresso' had come from, i think it was just about the challenge, breaking down someone's walls when they were so high up, impenetrable, almost. she never got close to anyone she worked with, and when i first got my job here, someone had told me not to even try, because she was, "she's sweet with a slightly bitter undertone. just like espresso."

we eat the cake, and pack the rest away. before walking across the street together, and the first drink she orders is an espresso martini, i should've known how deep the caffeine addiction runs, considering i literally get her 3 espresso shots a day.

"can i get a white russian?" i ask the bartender. he quickly mixes up the drink for me, before sliding it across the bar.

espresso¡readers pov:

"wow, another coffee addict, i guess i should've noticed, from all the lattes, right, latte," i say, with a joking smirk. "oh, haha, very funny, i was a barista while in college, i just got addicted to the taste of the stuff," he says trying to speak over the loud music, whilst matching my energy.

i felt kinda weird about talking to an employee outside work, i was usually the type of person to at most give a small head nod with a smile if i saw anyone in the street, acknowledging their existence but never taking part in conversation with them

"a barista? whilst doing financial management, right, at the university of boston?" i ask, looking over at him. making more eye contact with him than i ever had. "mhm, you remember my resume," he says, laughing a little. "so, why financial management?" i ask as i take my drink and sit in a quieter area of the bar, he follows just behind me.

"you want me to be honest?" he asks as he takes a sip of his white russian, i could smell the baileys from the few feet distance we had. "mhm, yea, be honest, you can't lie to your boss, i mean i can fire you," i say in jest, making him laugh a little. "well, i basically had no clue what i wanted to do, so i did the only thing i was kinda good at in high school, math," he says with a small shrug.

"wait, you went to college in london, right, imperial?" he says with a smile, trying to not give away the fact he had looked her up. "mhm, imperial, for biological sciences,"

we spend the rest of the evening getting to know each other, to the point that the rest of our colleagues had long gone home.

"so, here's a question for you: why do you never get close to any of your employees, i mean i feel like you have no friends at work?" he asks, which makes you shrug automatically. "i don't know. actually, i feel like it's a little easier having that part of my life separate," i say as we walk out to the area where your ubers were supposed to meet you.

"okay, well, i know your food orders off by heart. i think being friends isn't a jump, right?" he says with a grin as you both wait for the rides. "i guess not," before you could think about it. he puts his hand out for you to shake and says.

"well then, friends?"

similar au's: personalassistant¡chris and busyceo¡reader by @theyluvivi and employee matt and boss reader by chrattho1

au masterlist: latte¡matt sturniolo x espresso¡reader

taglist: - @courta13, tysm for joining my taglist <33

©ABSIFOFHWS 2025

[callizinc]

HELLOOOO CALLI, I hope you are having a good day!!! :D

I just wanted to talk about something I found, a supposedly cut piece of dialogue, from the purge event.... and I feel so bad and conflicted cause the person I got this from doesn't seem to want attention/interaction, so I'm choosing to not link the post itself, WHICH FEELS SO BAD TO NOT GIVE CREDIT, but idk what to do..... but anywayse

It's this:

Um. Ummmmm

Girl.....

"Everything hurts"??

"I'm doomed to suffer work after work for the rest of my life LET ME OUT OF HERE"????????

UM. GIRLIE.....

Like. Does she just. Not have a choice?? She said this is her destiny. Is she like. Maybe like a. Worker drone?? Cursed to forever toil (beyond death itself, as the watchers have said.... hmmmmm)??? Is this just her god forsaken purpose?

The post also mentions this dude:

(Which, curiously, they mentioned that this pose kinda mirrors ENA being stuck in the cubes at the end.... hmmm)

And like. If you talk to him in the auction area at the end, he also mentions that he was 'born with a purpose' and 'a disturbing relief is now in front of him', implying he's finally. Free.. or something..... IDK!!!

ITS JUST.

THIS IS SO INTERESTING... WHAT IS GOING ON WITH YOU ENAUR......

This could also mean not that much, seeing as this is cut dialogue after all, but idk. It does certainly seem to line up with the rest of the game in the end. And, well.... maybe it's just a commentary on how, as existential as it sounds, we ourselves are ALSO doomed to work forever in some sort of way if we want to survive... hashtag Capitalism, but. Idk. It just makes me so sad, dude. Why is ENA seemingly cursed to not be allowed any rest or happiness or joy or salvation ever 😭 SAVE MY GIRL!!!!!

(OK FIRST HFJGSKFDG. HI I did have a good day :] Thank you for the wishes and i hope yours is/was good too :D)

OK. SEEING THIS WHOLE THING IN MY INBOX. WAS LIKE RECEIVING A GIFT OF A COMICALLY LARGE RAINBOW SWIRLY LOLLIPOP. I GENUINELY HAVE NEVER SEEN THIS DIALOGUE BEFORE, And obviously, still take it with a grain of salt, as i know you have too Cause it's literally not actually in the game: BUT STILL. ...STILL.

THIS IS FUCKING. CRAZY. I feel like even if these lines aren't actually "canon" they still really encapsulate the Torment Nexus she is fucking going through in such a cool way... For example, only breaking down and showing any sign of weakness in a place where she's Supposed to let loose and relax because she just Can't Fathom that she'd ever be able to Do that...

BUT THIS IS FASCINATING BECAUSE LIKE... IN HER ACTUAL PURGE DIALOGUE, SHE NEVER ACTUALLY... ACKNOWLEDGES THAT SHE'S SUFFERING? IF THAT MAKES SENSE? Like "i can't afford another minute of joy" Still makes me crazy and so on, and all that other stuff too, But none of it actually shows her saying that she's in any bad type of way at all. Rather that she just... Really shouldn't be in that place. 😭😭And then in this dialogue she straight up just says that she's fucking doomed LIKE WHAT DO YOU MEANNNNNNNNNNNNNNN????????????????????????????????????

(Maybe that's why this was cut/changed? to portray a slightly different version or mindset for her character, but. Shrug. No way of knowing either way and it doesn't matter i'm just #Twisted)

THAT CONNECTION WITH THE BUILDING GUY IS ALSO FUCKING CRAZY BUT I CAN TOTALLY SEE IT. I saw his dialogue for the first time in my last run and was... Flabbergasted 😭Soon i wanna go back and make a post on wtf he says and you will be the first one invited to it ok ....

AND. NO YEAH; I doubt knowing this text Exists will affect anything in the later game, but you're so right that it certainly lines up with the rest of the game, so i still find it fun and interesting—AND INSANE. I agree that it is absolutely continuing the rest of the game's commentary on #Capitalism and #SocietyBad But i am going to stop myself there because if i start talking about that theme i;ll never fucking stop.

FREE ENA!!!!!!!! FREE MY GIRL!!!!!!!!!!!!! GIRL WHAT THE FUCK HAS HAPPENED TO YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[merge-conflict]

18, 74, 26 for the fic writer asks! 🖤

Questions here

18. Do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process? How do you come up with titles?

Yes. Yes. Yes.

I usually retitle a fic or chapter at least once. I used to sit and agonize over the coolest title and just could NOT move on until I've done it, but now I just relax because I know I can update it. Generally what it's named in my Scrivener project is just some sort of placeholder or feeling. My usual vibe is "lyrics from a song which vibes" (yes. it is often the mountain goats... but not always! sometimes it's brown bird.) or "common phrase, but changed slightly" or "technical in-joke". Whatever I find most amusing.

Recently posted a fic called "done dying" which was originally titled "anthem for the already defeated" both of them from song titles (the first is actually "When I Was Done Dying"). I wrote all of the "the binds that tie" (playing with "the ties that bind") before settling on the title, but in my drafts it was always 'sudo chown -R vim:vim .' (now the chapter title). I like to have my cake and eat it too whenever possible. For stuff I can't come up with names for I've started titling them 'scrap: brief summary' or something I think is grandiose or funny so I can stop obsessing over it and start writing lol.

74. You’ve posted a fic anonymously. How would someone be able to guess that you’d written it?

Gosh. I've been thinking about this lately, and I do think I have a distinctive style but it's hard to describe because it's just.. the way I write? I know I have a problem repeating adjectives like 'just' 'some' 'only' a lot, so that's one give away. My habit of just smash-cutting into the middle of a scene without much setup is probably another. My habit of using repetitive sentence construction to hammer in a point. My habit of writing too much damn banter.

26. Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?

Tbh the damn things overlap was created to be each damn thing overlapping the next, a huge mess, very little time to breathe (condensing the canon timeline down to about two weeks of Valentine going through main storyline stuff. ~a week of which is actually in the the fic!) I wanted to write a story where you feel relieved when characters get to sit down or take a nap, and I think I've succeeded thus far.

Honorable mention to when her edges soften, where Johnny and Valentine hit the town and each other. Straight from "I'm not gonna fuck you" to competitively tracking the number of orgasms they've both had in the past 3 hours while fucking in alleyways and cars. That might qualify as a sort of wild ride. :3

[lightnersdream-archive]

i've been thinking about exactly why people portraying one of the other crew members successfully killing Jimmy as a "for what you did to Anya" kind of thing rubs me the wrong way a bit and it's because like..... this is just another form of taking agency away from Anya, in a way. it's kind of framing her as some meek, shivery woman-thing who's entirely at the mercy of the men around her, either to hurt her or save her.

(i understand these are mostly for wish fulfillment on the audience's behalf because everyone would like to see Jimmy pay for his crimes. whether or not this is the intention of the person writing it isn't really relevant, characterization happens with or without intent. i feel like it misses the point by portraying it as an 'ideal ending'.)

because... Anya is a capable person. she takes things into her own hands when she can. it was partially(?) her idea to get into the cargo,

(before he interrupts her.. remember when she interrupted Curly in the dead pixel segment?)

it was her idea to get the code scanner from the cockpit,

it was her idea to get the medication from behind the foam.

(the chance to do these things herself is not given to her.)

she'd been keeping Curly alive for months in a critical state somehow, her psych evaluations at the start are only so useless because Jimmy refuses to take it/her seriously and Curly is obviously biased when he puts it into his own hands. he's known him a long time, like he said. "I'll just put good for that one."

there's not a lot of material to work with because of how the game is framed, but it's there. we are working with two very biased perspectives and neither one lends Anya what she deserves

there's significant changes in how she speaks post- and pre- crash, and depending on who she happens to be talking to. i recommend re-reading her dialogue, because the difference is drastic

she acts the way she does around Jimmy because he has tangibly done horrible things to her, is actively hostile, and physically could not escape him by any means. she can't take away Curly's agency herself, in my eyes. you have to remember that Especially in the post-crash segments of the game, it's entirely from Jimmy's POV, and he obviously does not (and has never) thought very highly of her or treated her with a shred of respect

i've seen a general idea that she can't bear to hurt other people for any reason, but that doesn't really track to me. this is the real point of the post by the way

it seems based on the parts where she says she struggles to give Curly medication. "It just hurts him so much, I can't stand the noise." "It makes me nauseous."

it's not really the same thing as, say, hurting someone in self defense

this sounds like she did want the gun itself. this never felt worded like someone who would refuse to, at very least, threaten Jimmy with a gun, with violence. if she had been given the agency to make that decision on her own. she wasn't though

she still tries to reclaim some of it even as she's denied it

by the end she's still trying to keep that gun out of his hands

i think some people overly soften her, for similar reasons the game itself is trying to comment on. she's not a tender victim who couldn't cause pain to another out of the softness of her soul, she's a person who's had every last bit of agency ripped from her repeatedly until she couldn't take it anymore. that's the point. that's why framing her that way, "needing" someone to save her, is odd to me

she didn't need Curly to save her, she needed him to take responsibility

she didn't want to escalate things, but she's not an idiot. self defense was absolutely on her mind

but who knows im just saying shit *smiles serenely*

[lilliemadoka]

catch u on the flipside 😘✨

(cleaned up sketch under the cut because i kinda liked it a lot. please ignore the shoes i couldn't be bothered to fix them. it's all sketchy and weird just PLEASE b nice 2 me...)

[onesidedradiostatic]

tbh im a little more worried about the sheer number of people ive seen who just straight up don't know who cain and abel are 😭 im not even christian but i always figured that was one part of bible lore that's common knowledge??

id expect people to not know who seth is- adam and eve's third child who was born specifically as a gift from god, to replace abel after he died and cain was banished. i get that, bc he's not the one with the important symbolic story like his parents and brothers. but come on guys. cain and abel are everywhere.

(prev)

you know tbh I'll be very real with you I know more about cain and abel from the internet than I do as a raised catholic LMAO but idk if that's because I just barely paid attention or retained info from catechism/religious classes or if it's because they just focused on the new testament more

also told an irl friend who was also raised catholic about the hazbin abel reveal and they asked me who abel was so I don't think at least for us being raised with christianity helped us with that knowledge LMAO but yeah I think being on the internet enough most would at least have heard of them

[ff2-soda-pop]

I love playing a game and having an experience where I'm like "is this a glitch or is this an intended feature? I don't know"

[fvckw4d]

The concept of queerbaiting annoys me. I was told that it refers to a work of fiction pretending to cater to a queer audience but then pulling back from it to avoid alienating homophobes, which is an incredibly specific thing. But a lot of people seem to think that it instead means "any time there's any gay subtex, metaphor, or ambiguity" or "whenever something from 1995-2012 was being a normal amount of homophobic for the era."

[daisywords]

if youtube is going to insist on having that many ads, they should at least give me the option to do them all at once at the beginning. interspersing the ads throughout is wrong and evil. So is making them play at the end (if you do this they should be ones that don't have sound. blease.) Anyway this environment is absolutely inhospitable to someone here to listen to ambient music while working (me) or stuff specifically designed to fall asleep to. to, you know, fall asleep to (also me).

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

Books of 2023. ONE HUNDRED YEARS OF SOLITUDE by Gabriel García Márquez.

Currently reading! This has been languishing on the TBR for a While™ and came highly recommended by a bookstore coworker. I'm only a couple chapters in, so far, and the family tree is ~Messy~, but the prose is lyrical and lovely!

[deeisace]

..

[dan-crimes]

LMAO so funny thing is everyone knows the whole Sonic and Shadow looking alike thing is total bullshit and I totally agree those comments they try to pull in the games and show(s? I'm not technically a Sonic fan I dunno if it's multiple) make basically no sense to me but then my Mom comes in while watching Sonic Prime and says "So what, Sonic has a brother or something?" and this whole other world has opened up to me and I've seen the truth of it all

[rawliverandgoronspice]

Hello.

You and gay-jesus-probably have successfully made me question everything with your view that Tears of the Kingdom is imperialist propaganda, so that's been fun.

Anyway, I decided to share this discussion with the Zelda fans on reddit, and perhaps unsurprisingly, a lot of them disagreed. Here is what they said (I'm Alarming_Afternoon44):

So what do you think? Have I and all these other people just been duped by the game's manipulative framing? Or do they actually have a point?

And if you'd rather not answer this, or would prefer if I censored the usernames, just tell me and I'll delete this.

Hey! Thanks a lot for reaching out, and I'm glad it made you think stuff through!!

Honestly, as I mentioned in this post, I am not super interested about in-world conversations about who oppresses who, because what can be assessed from the game is super vague and more vibes-based than evidence-based. Within the text, of course that the Good Zonais are good and the Bad Ganondorf is bad! But that's my whole point! The narrative has been deliberately crafted so that the zonais and Rauru (and Hyrule) are as blameless as possible (and it's not doing a great job at it overall to be frank; we would not be having these conversations about how offputting it all feels for a non-zero number of people if it did do a great job). More importantly, I want to focus on what sort of real-life narrative it all parallels. Because people make stories, and people live in the real world.

Not going after everyone's throat here, gamedev is hard and the hydras that are AAA game production do end up doing super weird stuff, especially since the thematic ramifications are absolutely never prioritized (and it's also always the same kind of people who make the final calls and push out what can and can't be talked about also). And as fans, we tend to have trouble stepping outside the lens of lore and take a look at the bigger picture sometimes; not as an attack on any individual part of that decision-making process but to just pause, stop, and question our standards, our priorities and the kind of reality (or skewing of reality) the stories we tell each other reflect.

Again: do we want to take videogames seriously or not? If we do, then we need to accept they are a vehicle for ideology, just like any other artform. And sometimes, you push out questionable ideology, sometimes without meaning to, because you didn't unpack your own biases as you did. And it's even fine to do it, nobody is perfect, a 300+ people team spread over 6 years certainly will not be that. But that it wasn't prioritized is, in my opinion, a problem. As a narrative designer, I want games (at least the narrative side) to be held to a higher standard than this. It's literally my job to work with the industry so it can hold itself to higher standards of quality --so the whole TotK situation is quite frustrating to witness from a very pragmatic, work perspective where I already spend my days trying to convince people that things mean things. I have a vested interest here in not having the companies I work for being given a free pass by gamers to do literally whatever as long as it's fun, especially when we're talking about a billion-dollars company suing its own fans left and right for any perceived slight. Nintendo are not underdogs here. It's fine to point out they cut corners and maybe promoted messy ideologies, voluntarily or not.

So long story short: no I don't believe anyone here has a point in regards to what I think is actually important, which is why these choices were made in the first place. If you look at an imperialist text expecting the text to tell you that it's imperialist instead of recognizing a framing used for propaganda by yourself, you're never gonna find any imperialist text ever, obviously not!! I'm sorry if I sound a little gngngn here, but I don't know why audiences have, at large, this feeling that lore and story beat decisions materialize themselves already formed and without any human bias, meddling, intervention, internal politics or approximations (it seems that people can only conceptualize this part if they have actual names to attach to the story, but without clear authors it's like there are no authors and so no bias, which is... a very strange bias in itself). I can promise you that it does not work that way in practice: every narrative department on every big game is a battlefield --some nicer than others, but all of them very emotionally draining either way.

So yeah, I guess that on these grounds, I disagree with every point raised here. Sorry Reddit :/

But thank you for the ask and sorry if I didn't go more into details as to why. The big Why I Dislike Rauru Post and the Gerudo Post might have some more specific rebuttals, but I am not super interested in debating small detail stuff tbh. I feel like it's no use if the frame of reference isn't being understood in the first place.

[coollyinterferes]

Today, I offer you...

🌟 he 🌟

[goldentigerfestival]

Using this as an audio reference for the posts I'm making, but to summarize:

Yuri starts out mad.

Yuri tries to calm himself down with a deep breath to ask for details instead of going through it angry.

Flynn doesn't say "like a good knight" in the sense of putting himself down. He simply says "as a knight" (the tl here doesn't use that, but with that included it's basically along the lines of "even though I had doubts, as a knight, I was determined to follow my orders").

Once Yuri has answers he calms down significantly.

Yuri uses " 'ttaku", which is a shortened down version of "mattaku" (Yuri often shortens words and speaks very casually), which in this particular situation basically would mean "geez", or "good grief". In this manner, it's expressive of exasperation/frustration/etc.

Yuri never mentions that "Flynn told him what to do" like the dub does (because in fact Flynn did not ever tell Yuri what to do. He only gave Sodia and his other knights orders. He expressed his own desire to take responsibility, but never told Yuri and his friends what to do).

At this point you can tell the anger has gone out of him and that he's calmed down, now that Flynn is approaching this with admission and responsibility.

Sodia is asking that Flynn returns as soon as possible (I believe this was a general translation error).

Flynn's thank you to Yuri is tonally much more heartfelt.

Yuri's response and gratefulness at Flynn coming back to himself is tonally much more heartfelt, relieved and sincere.