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#I am afraid I made the critical mistake of looking in the notes of the queer media tournament.
sydneysageivashkov · 2 months
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eleanor guthrie did not go from wearing cravats and vests to corsets and gowns just for people to say she always dressed like a femme. don't worry ms guthrie I saw you cut away pieces of yourself to achieve acceptability in rogers' eyes and be accepted back into the english upperclass and then die anyway the same way your mother did before you.
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anakin-pilled · 4 months
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𝘨𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘰𝘶𝘴 - anakin skywalker x fem! reader (part two)
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pairing: anakin skywalker x fem! reader
wordcount: 4.7k
warnings: no use of y/n
rating: rating: 18+ (my blog is 18+ only)
author's note: thank you so much to everyone who liked and reblogged the first chapter! it meant so much to me. i cant believe i managed to push out two chapters in a week!! this chapter might seem slow, but only because im still new to writing fanfics and im trying to find the right groove of things, but please be patient as i hope to fasten the pace and tension with the new few chapters. as always, proofread but please let me know if you see any mistakes and feel free to nicely provide any criticism or suggestions (pls). i really want to keep everything as canon compliant to the star wars universe (minus the timeline, that's unspecified), but i decided to take some creative liberties for minor cultural and geographic details. i get most of my information from wookiepedia or the star wars reddit, so if you have any questions about anything, i'm happy to send any links. okay im gonna stop yapping now. taglist at the bottom! creds to saradika for the header!
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You couldn’t bear another moment of dinner with Anakin. Something about him set your nerves on fire and left you completely unsettled–in a good way, a way that you’ve rarely felt before. But it was a way that you didn’t know how to deal with, and this deeply troubled you. How were you going to spend the next ten rotations with him? It sounded like a disaster waiting to happen. You doubted Anakin would do anything wrong. No, you would be the one to do something wrong. Totally embarrassing yourself in front of him or unintentionally acting off-putting just because you found him too attractive.
Dammit, you were thinking like a schoolgirl with a crush. 
After retreating to your quarters, you began to pace around your room. You had to get yourself out of this situation. Avoidance was always your favorite escape plan. It made life simpler when you avoided anything that made you uncomfortable or anxious. You weren’t exactly sure how you would avoid the 6’2 hunk of a Jedi. Asking Gido to remove him was out of the question. You couldn’t have Anakin removed, especially after the Chancellor had been kind enough to request one of the Jedi’s best members. You were being immature and you knew it. It hadn’t even been a full day and this man already made you so nervous that you felt like going haywire. 
You gave yourself a small facepalm. “What am I going to do?” you whispered to yourself. You needed to put distance between you and Anakin. That way you would stay as unaffected as possible. Plus, it’s not like anything could happen between you two. Anakin was a Jedi, and you knew that the Jedi had some unorthodox rules surrounding relationships. However (a small and delusional) part of you already imagined a future between the two of you.  You already imagined your lips on his. A man that captivating only came around every few millennia. Well, that was hyperbolic of you to think. Even you, a celebrity with access to Coruscant’s rich and famous upper echelon, never came across a man like Anakin. When was the last time you even got fucked or had one good Holodrama kiss? Dating is hard when you’re a celebrity. You meet people with the wrong intentions–cocky men who care more about having you as some sort of trophy or are afraid of looking beneath you just because you’re more rich than them. Plus, aside from the shitty dating pool, you were simply too busy with your career to indulge in relationships and sex. It honestly quite was ironic considering many of your songs revolved around love. 
The more you thought, the more you felt trapped in your room. An intrusive thought popped into your head, but you quickly brushed away the thought before it got you in trouble. But then the thought appeared again, and you couldn’t help but entertain what your brain was saying.
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Her presence is suffocating is the first thing Anakin thought as you left the room. As a trained Jedi, Anakin mastered the practice of shielding others' thoughts and emotions from affecting him. But you were being so loud through the Force. Anakin felt the same nervous energy he felt earlier in the day when he first met you. Except this time, he felt it ten times worse. 
Anakin knew he was being quiet during dinner. But it was hard to focus with your energy screaming in his ears! So, he focused on trying to enjoy his meal instead. You were nice, Anakin would give you that. But he felt if he talked to you, while also trying to stave off your energy from his, he would overwhelm himself. It was all too distracting–a feeling that Anakin rarely felt. 
Anakin then proceeded toward his assigned room, ready to prepare for the night. Luckily, he didn’t have to stay on guard the entire night as there was no threat direct threat to you in Coruscant. Sleep slowly became a stranger to Anakin in the past few months, so he welcomed the guest room’s luxurious, canopy bed with an unrefined flop. He lay there for a while, though he didn’t know how for long as he just stared at the window in front of him and thought. 
Anakin suddenly heard a crash! noise coming from the living room. He quickly jumped into action and ran towards the sound. What if an intruder was trying to harm you? Anakin wouldn’t let them get near you. Though he would protect you, a pang of annoyance ran through Anakin’s head. How could anyone gain access to your apartment? He went through your security details with Gido and made sure that all access points were being guarded by either a security guard or a droid. Anakin hoped this wouldn’t become another Padme situation–he wasn’t in the mood for a high-speed speeder chase tonight. Better yet, why didn’t he sense anything? Were you distracting him so much that his senses were dull? Anakin couldn’t have that happening if you were both to survive the next ten rotations together. 
As Anakin reached your living room and investigated the sound, he saw what object made the sound he heard. His eyes first laid sight on a broken flower vase. The turquoise vase was shattered into a million pieces on the floor. Anakin then looked at the figure next to the broken pottery and there you were, dressed in a dark robe, halfway to the entrance of your apartment. A look of shock, then brief fear and then embarrassment, went through your eyes when you saw Anakin standing before you with his arms crossed over his chest and his eyebrows raised. 
“What do you think you’re doing?” Anakin questioned you with a glare. His voice had a deep edge to it. He was relieved that there was no intruder, but he wondered what you were doing. If he didn’t know any better, Anakin would say that it looked like you were in the middle of trying to leave your apartment. Except, Anakin did know better so he knew that was exactly what you were trying to do. The dark robes were a telltale sign of this–it disguised your figure and the hood covered a majority of your face. 
You cleared your throat before putting on a tight-lipped smile, “Oh, I was just trying to night walk in the gardens before going to bed.”
“The gardens? I thought they were closed for renovations. That’s what Gido told me.” There was a slight smirk on Anakin’s face as he replied. He knew he had you.
“Not for me. I have special access…you know, the building manager is a fan of mine. Perks of being famous.” You felt slimy using that as an excuse, but it was better than letting the Jedi know your true intentions. 
“Really?” Anakin admired you for doubling down on your lie, but once again, he could sense your energy through the force. You were hesitant, like you weren’t fully convinced of what you were saying either. Anakin continued, “Then why are you wearing such a thick robe? The weather has been warm lately, even at night. Don’t you think that you would sweat too much?” 
You chuckled nervously before saying, “I sweat all the time.” You quickly shook your head. Kriff that’s not what I meant! you cursed in your head. “I mean I’m used to sweating during practice and performances so it does not bother me too much. I felt chilly which is why I decided to wear my robe on my walk. Please excuse me for disturbing you, General. I must have been in such a rush that I accidentally knocked over this vase. I assure you that I did not intend to raise any alarm.”
“It looks like you were sneaking out to me. Is that why you feel so tense right now? You know, we Jedi can sense emotion. I can sense that you’re not being truthful. There’s no lying to me, pop star.” Anakin replied smoothly. 
You shook your head. It looks like your plan of trying to put distance between you and Anakin wasn’t going to work after all. You should have known–how could you outsmart a Jedi? It was easy to sneak out with your regular security staff, but Anakin was different. 
“I apologize. You’re right. I wasn’t going to take a walk in the gardens. I thought I could visit the night market on level 3204, the Alderaan district. I just needed to clear my head. I didn’t tell because I didn’t think there would be an issue since I was going to keep my identity hidden.” Anakin noted how your apology sounded genuine. 
“Level 3204. Isn’t that a bit far from you? I never suspected that you would stray anywhere past the 5000th level,” said Anakin. When people on Coruscant managed to achieve enough wealth to live on the 5000th level of Coruscant, it was very rare that they ventured anywhere below. The only people that ventured below were those dealing in shady business. That’s not to say that the 3000th level was necessarily bad–he knew that the lower levels were a mixture of the classes ranging from middle-class families to criminals. Anakin had been to almost all the levels of Corscant while on Jedi business. He had seen the most impoverished slums, where crime was rampant and everyone fended for themselves. Yet, he had also seen the richest that Coruscant had to offer–elegant restaurants, opulent theaters, and people dressed in the most expensive fabrics. It always amazed Anakin how in the capital city of the Republic, one of the richest planets in the galaxy, could house such a dichotomy. 
You took offense to Anakin’s words. What did he know about you? Sure, you were wealthy and privileged, but that didn’t mean you had to confine yourself to a small circle of society. You enjoyed visiting what Coruscant had to offer–the different cultures, species, etc. It may have been unconventional for someone of your status, but your parents raised you with humility. Anything you earned in this life could be taken away from you at any moment, so you tried your best to explore and enjoy everything while you still could. 
Now you weren’t thinking about this annoyingly handsome face or soft curls. You were thinking about how he pissed you off. Just another person making assumptions about who I am. Your eyes narrowed before dignifying Anakin with a response, “And where is it that I belong? Please enlighten me. What? Do you think just because I am rich, I wouldn’t dare mingle with anyone in a lower class than me?”
“That’s not how I intended my words to come across.”
“How did you mean for your words to come across?” Anakin felt your energy shift. You were no longer hesitant or nervous. 
“What I mean is that it is unorthodox for celebrities to venture anywhere below Coruscant’s surface. It’s not exactly the most celebrity-friendly place. I would know as I’ve to the 3000th level several times before,” Anakin explained.
“Well, I’m an unorthodox person then. I’ll let you know that I enjoy the night market in the Alderaan district, it has good food and honest people. Now, you can either accompany me or stay here and make more assumptions about me. Whatever you choose, I will still be attending the night market. Feel free to tell Gido.” You turned around and continued walking toward your front door before you were stopped by Anakin. 
“Kriff. You’re not going to make this easy, huh? Fine. I’m going with you to the market because it’s my duty to protect you, but don’t try anything.”
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You first discovered this night market in Coruscant’s Alderaan district only a few months into your arrival on the planet. Your fame had not skyrocketed yet, so you could easily travel between Coruscant’s levels without being chased by HoloNet reporters or crazy fans. You stumbled upon the market one night while lost on level 3204. It was a serendipitous moment for you. The night market operated every night and was primarily inhabited by Alderaanian expats, however, there were a few stalls run by species from exotic planets who sold even more exotic goods and foods. At the time you discovered it, you were feeling homesick and lonely. Your home planet of Bar’leth was nothing like Coruscant. Though Bar’leth had some metropolitan cities, it also had greenery and fauna. And the population wasn’t nearly as dense as Coruscant! You grew up in Bar’leth’s capital city, but you could still name your neighbors and there was a sense of community. Coruscant had none of these features. The night market was more than just a market, it reminded you of a tiny piece of home in the most bustling place in all of the galaxy. 
The familiar smell of grilled bantha skewers and roasted pormork flooded your senses. The area was decorated with a mixture of bright, fluorescent neon lighting and the warm, cozy light from twinkle lights from the vendor’s stalls. Light music played in the background from a live band playing in a corner somewhere. Though the market was mainly filled with adults, the occasional child and their family were seen. You and Anakin walked at a comfortable place in the middle of the road. Neither of you was talking, just observing the scene around you. You observed how people interacted with each other and made up life stories for them in your head. Anakin observed for any potential danger. 
“I’m sorry for snapping on you earlier. I hate when people make assumptions about who I am. It’s a sensitive spot for me. You know, with my name always in the tabloids,” it was you who decided to speak first. 
Anakin listened before responding, “Maybe I was wrong to make those assumptions about you.” He still thought it was odd that you wanted to venture so below the surface, but if there was one thing that Anakin understood, it was your disdain for assumptions. As the Chosen One, everyone made assumptions about Anakin—assumptions he should act or think. And somehow, Anakin always failed to live up to people’s assumptions of him. There were very few people in his life who accepted him the way he was. This was another point of contention in his life. 
Instead of letting this event take place in a silent awkwardness like dinner, you decided to make an effort to keep the conversation going. Anakin didn’t directly apologize, but you took his words to be a positive sign. “I know it must be a shock to you that I wanted to visit this market. And you were partially right to judge, who would suspect that I stray far from my life on the surface? The truth is, no one would expect that from me which is exactly why I do what I do. Not even Gido knows that I come down here.” 
“What makes this specific place worth sneaking out for? Aren’t there any other places you would rather be than down here?” Anakin asked this question sincerely. He was curious about you. While he was no stranger to Coruscant’s rich elite, the people he met were confined the the political sector.  He knew how politicians acted and their thought processes, but he knew nothing about the other type of elite—the celebrities, like you. 
“It reminds me of home, and the simple days I used to live before the glitz and glamour. There was a farmer’s market on Bar’leth I frequented with my family. There was local produce, lots of gourmet food, and trinkets of all kinds. I stumbled upon this market by happenstance one day and I never stopped visiting it ever since,” you explain truthfully. You loved the life you lived now and you were extremely grateful for it. But nothing could compare to your old life when you could enjoy the simple pleasures of life without any care in the world. Nowadays life barely gives you a chance to breathe since you were always working on something–whether it is new music, media appearances, or special performances. “You know, you’re actually the first person I have told about this place. You better keep it a secret, or else.” Anakin could tell you were joking by the smile on your face. He returned your joke with a small smile of his own.
You continued the conversation by asking Anakin a question of his own, “Don’t you have a special place that you like to visit when life gets too hectic?”
Anakin’s automatic response was to give you a generic answer. Before he could give you that generic answer, he changed his mind. He knew that was too guarded, but he couldn’t help himself. Anakin had been hurt too many times now–hurt by life, by his actions, and by the actions of others. Opening up was a recipe for disaster, especially when Anakin knew how passionately he felt about almost everything in his life. The only person Anakin managed to completely open up to was Padme, but even she was off-put sometimes by the level of passion and truthfulness he displayed. She never verbally admitted it, but Anakin could tell. Though you two didn’t know each other very well and have had minimal conversation so far, something about your energy invited Anakin to open up. Your energy in the force was serene. However, it wasn’t the type of serenity that Anakin felt whenever he was at the Temple. At the Temple, it was so peaceful, it was almost like it was devoid of any energy–it perfectly balanced all the energies of all the Jedi order and created a feeling of equilibrium. Your energy was serene in a way that reminded Anakin of his mother–comforting and warm. He could feel it radiating off your person. Ever since Anakin left with Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, he could never sense that same energy in anyone else. Not even Padme, whose energy was more dynamic and loud. Thus, Anakin decided to be honest with his answer. 
“There is a place that I like to escape to sometimes. It is located in a secluded corner of the Jedi temple and only accessible through the garden wing. I used to go there all the time as a Youngling and then a Padawan. It has the best view of Coruscant since it faces the intersection where the old Republic Theater house and Senate offices meet. On clear days, you can watch the sunset from there.” Anakin didn’t know that the Senate offices were in that direction until a few years after he moved to Coruscant. Once he found out Padme had stepped down as queen and became Naboo’s senator, he would stare at that intersection as a way to feel closer to Padme during their years apart. Despite the breakup, the spot still comforted Anakin because it served as a reminder of how far he had come. He was no longer a lovesick fool and rambunctious Padawan, but a mature and fully-fledged Jedi Knight. Through the transitional nature of life, that spot would always be there for Anakin. 
It was your turn to nod and listen to Anakin.
“How was it like…growing up in the Temple?,” you hesitated, not wanting to overstep any boundaries with Anakin. You remember how the tone of his voice earlier when you questioned him about Tatooine. 
“Growing up in the temple was…different. When I first arrived, I didn’t realize I would be living in a religious organization. There’s a lot about the Jedi that was very different from the life I lived on Tatooine. Though I can’t complain too much, I had a permanent roof over my head and food on my plate every day. And, there was practically no sand at all. The best part,” Anakin finished. 
“I imagine it’s like one big family, no?”
Anakin sucked his teeth in response before continuing, “Since I arrived at the Temple later than the normal age, I didn’t grow up with my crèche. We had lessons together every now and then, but if there was anybody I considered like family to be in the Temple, it would be my former master Obi-Wan, and my Padawan Ashoka. She’s actually a  fan—I promised her I would try to get an autograph.” Anakin looked sheepish at the mention of the autograph.  
“Remind me before you leave. I’ll make sure to sign something. Should I sign her lightsaber?” You made sure to make a serious face while looking at Anakin. Then, you let out a giggle. “I’m only kidding about the last part. Come on, let’s get something sweet.” Your pace picked up before leading Anakin in another direction. 
You stopped by a stall owned by an older Twi’lek lady who sold homemade rishi honeystix. The honeystix quickly became your favorite item at the market because of its’ sweet flavor and crispy batter. They were similar to a childhood favorite snack of yours, except the rishi honeystix was fried, not baked. 
“Can I have two honeystix please?” you asked the owner. She nodded yes before you handed her over the credits, adding some extra for a tip. The owner quickly prepared the dessert before handing it to you and sending a warm smile to both.
“Enjoy the sweet treat! I love seeing young couples like you visit the market,” she stated with a look of adoration on her face. 
You and Anakin straightened your postures and sent a sheepish smile to the owner. 
“Oh, we’re not-” “She’s not my-” You both said at the same time. 
The owner giggled out an apology before turning her back on the both of you and preoccupied herself with preparing more food. 
Her comment affected you more than you would have liked to admit. You couldn’t say you wished you were dating Anakin, you hard knew him after all. But the idea of someone mistaking you to be in a relationship with someone as attractive as Anakin made you feel a funny feeling. You felt a moment of giddy before telling yourself to calm down. 
You led Anakin toward an old fountain that sat in the middle of the market. “Ever tried these before? They’re the best! I don’t come here too often anymore, but whenever I do, I make an effort to buy these.” You then handed Anakin his dessert. 
“I don’t think I have had these before. The Jedi diet consists of the Temple’s cantina food and whatever rations we have for off-world assignments. Though I try to explore new foods when I have the chance,” Anakin stated. He picked up the dessert and observed it. Anakin didn’t have much of a sweet tooth, but he was intrigued by its flavor. A sweet aroma wafted off the dessert and even Anakin felt tempted to try it. 
You were looking toward the distance as Anakin inspected the dessert. You were about to take a bit of your honeystix when you made eye contact with a small figure in the distance. As your eyes focused on the figure, you realized you were looking at a young Rodian child. Their gaze shifted from your eyes to the dessert in hand. Despite the Alderaanian district being one of the more wealthy districts in the lower levels, many families still lived in borderline poverty. You smiled at the child in reassurance before getting up from the fountain and slowly making your way towards them.
Anakin looked up at the sound of your figure getting up and was about to ask you where you were going before he saw you walk to a child and kneel before them. He couldn’t hear what you were saying, but he saw you hand over your honeystix to the child. You hugged the child goodbye, but not before handing them a few extra credits. The child’s purple eyes widened and a bright smile appeared on their face. They gave you another hug before retreating to wherever they came from. 
You got back up from the ground and walked back toward the fountain without saying anything to Anakin. You continued like nothing happened and asked Anakin, “Did you enjoy it?”
He ignored your question. “What was that about?” He was referring to the instance in which you gave away your dessert to a child. 
“I saw the little one looking at my food, so I decided to go over there and offer it to them. I could tell she was hungry. It’s alright, I can always buy myself another.”
Anakin always believed that you could tell a lot about a society or individuals based on the way they treated children. He hated Tatooine and regarded it as one of the lowest civilized planets in the entire galaxy–for many reasons, of course, but the primary reason is that those on Tatooine had no issue trafficking children into slavery and treating them as chattel. He wished that more people displayed kindness toward him as a child. Anakin’s only crime was being born into the world, but aside from that, he was innocent and deserved to be treated with dignity and humanity. You were kind. It seemed like a bare minimum requirement to be astonished at, but with the type of people Anakin has had the displeasure of meeting, kindness was a trait he rarely witnessed outside of the Temple walls. 
You stared at Anakin as if you were waiting for him to say something, but he simply observed your face without saying anything. A timid look washed over your face before you turned your head to the side and blew a piece of hair out of your face. 
“Well, I think it’s time we head back.” 
Being with Anakin was different than you expected. At first, you were overwhelmed by his presence–caught off guard by the fact he looked like a literal god from one of those classical paintings located in one of Corucant’s largest art galleries. You’ve always had a soft spot for pretty boys. Plus, you also had a penchant for romanticizing almost every interaction and person in your life. Not always in the romantic sense though. From brief strangers to friends, you tried to put a positive spin on everyone you encountered. There was no way of telling if fate was real, but you liked to believe so. Anakin was no exception to these rules. 
You were so close to successfully sneaking out of your apartment, without being detected, until you accidentally bumped into that stupid vase. Anakin came running out while you scrambled to make it look like you hadn’t been caught in the middle of doing something you weren’t supposed to be doing. You knew that if Anakin found out that you were leaving the building, he would either force you to say or contact your manager. So, you lied and tried to convince him you weren’t sneaking out. Of course, he saw through you and you gave up without a fight, until he made that stupid comment. Lying was never your strong suit anyway and it wasn’t worth the hassle anyway. So, Anakin joined you on your night adventure. 
Though you were initially anxious, once to got to the market, you felt your head clear. This was your comfort place, and it soothed your racing heart and clouded mind. Once you were past that anxiousness, you found that Anakin had a calming presence, once you got over your initial nerves. Anakin was observational, though it was expected of him to be so. However, it felt like he was really listening to you and clinging to what you said. He looked pensive as you described why you liked the night market so much. You wanted to make conversation with him, you didn’t feel forced to. Maybe it was the nature of the predicament you were both and the fact that he would be your bodyguard for the next week and a half, but you felt drawn to him. You wanted to know more about who the “Hero with No Fear.” You feared that if you got to know him anymore, then you might fall for him.  Except, you had to stop yourself before it went any deeper than that. Once again, you reminded yourself that Anakin was a Jedi. Off-limits. So, as you settled into bed, you promised that you would actually keep your distance. There was no use in getting attached to him. The Jedi belonged to no one. 
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taglist: @angie2274 @bunnylovesani @0709fullofstars @js-favnanadoongi @payton-dixonreader it wasn't letting me tag u ):
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clarafyer · 11 days
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MY PERSONAL ART TIPS! A big thread I'll be adding to
I too, was once a 10 year old gacha kid whose only drawings were a way too detailed catgirl persona and friends. I didn't have much in-person or online inspiration and help for a long time! So I'll help others earlier in their art journey (and perhaps the masters too, never not a good idea to try some advice!)
So let me spare some of you a few of the unnecessary mishaps during everyone's art life.
If you've never seen my blog before, hello! My name is Clara. I'm a neurodivergent teen artist, aspiring animator, and resident cat person. It's nice to meet you! If you'd like to know who you're taking advice from, here is some of my latest work!
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Now without further ado, LET THE HELP COMMENCE!
STROKES: Fix stiffness in your poses!
To start off, a BIG thing I recommend for newish artists, is don't be afraid to draw loosely! The looser the lines, the less stiff the pose. And stiff poses are a very common issue within the community. Sure, your anatomy may look bad for the first while of drawing looser lines, but it will help you be more confident in strokes. The more confident the stroke, the more efficient an artist. The more efficient an artist, the faster you learn.
To practice loose lines, simply draw a long line as fast as you can. Over and over again. I know, that may seem boring, but it helps train your hand and arm to be faster. But if it's so much a hassle to do in your free time, then do it on the side of a worksheet if you're in school, or a sticky note if you're at work.
Speaking of practicing...
PRACTICE MAKES BETTER: Get over it!
I said the phrase wrong, didn't I? Oh wait, no I didn't. NO ONE IS PERFECT. And don't forget that! There will always be issues, problems, and mistakes in your art that you don't realize until the day after you've shared it with everyone you know. The artist is always their worst critic. So the best thing you can do is to keep at it. Practice your weak points to support the composition more, hone in your strong points to better make a focal point. Practice will always help, even if you don't see it. A slow pace is better than no pace!
"But Clara, what are my weak points? How do I know what I always mess up on!?" you may ask...
ANALYZING YOUR ART: Pros and cons!
Well, pick your latest finished piece and tear it apart (NO NOT LITERALLY OH GOD NO PLEASE-) I mean analyze it. Grab your pen and a separate paper, or just your notes app, and make a list of pros and cons in it. Doing this with multiple pieces is especially important, as with multiple examples, it's easier to find a pattern.
How about this, I'll give you an example!
Here we have a piece I made a few weeks ago. It's of my Western AU of my main cast of OCs. TIME TO NITPICK!
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WEAK POINTS
- The clouds are too detailed compared to the rest of the composition
- The right horse seems very stiff (I already am aware I struggle with drawing animals nowadays)
- The funky hatching I did with the plateaus in the background just isn't working out as well as I thought it would anymore
- the god damn horse on the right
- The sky in the middle just seems far too empty. I could have added more indication of the sun at the top to add more noise
STRONG POINTS
- The color palette I chose blends well while having the colors still be sharp and clear against each other
- The entirety of the woman and her horse on the left
- The glitchy effect adds some zestiness to it that I love
- The whole thing looks quite cinematic, with a successful wide shot and the black bars imitating that of a movie's
- The inlines of the otherwise completely flat-colored silhouettes help define the overlapping shapes quite well
And there you have it, 5 pros and cons each I found in something you probably only noticed were little to none. No, I'm not bragging, it's an actual psychological phenomena where the artist notices so many more intricacies than the average outside viewer. Your mom isn't hanging up your art out of pity, GET THAT OUT OF YOUR HEAD! People love your art so much more than you do.
That's it for the first post. Don't worry, there'll still be more helpful tips coming! I just won't be able to fit everything in here with Tumblr's picture limit and all. Happy drawing!
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viviennevermillion · 1 year
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Genshin Impact Playlists
notes: here's a masterlist of my Genshin Impact related playlists that I posted on YouTube! I always try to make them as lyrically accurate as possible so I hope someone here enjoys these.
will be updated as time goes on
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Wanderer / Scaramouche
hugging wanderer and comforting him [44:03]
hold on, don't let go. just take one step closer, put one foot in front of the other; you′ll get through this, just follow the light in the darkness. you′re gonna be okay.
smelling incense and exploring the wanderer's mental state again [32:42]
dissect me 'til my blood runs down into the drain. my bitter heart is pumping oil into my veins. i'm nothing but a tin man; don't feel any pain. i'm rusted from the rain.
Kaveh
kaveh's playlist [45:39]
i'm not looking for anything in particular but I'm far more desperate than you think. i wonder what it's like to be the universe; experiencing itself ironically. i need some space to run around; i'll always have the underground. i'll build my road despite the cost. i'm not looking to be found; just want to feel unlost.
Tighnari
tighnari shows you the avidya forest at night [29:08]
i'm a stone's throw from the mill and I'm a good walk to the river. when my working day is over, we'll go swim our cares away. put your toes down in the water and a smile across your face and tell me that you love me.
Cyno
cyno comforts you and promises to always love and protect you [34:02]
something rare; something strong stands against all the odds. love that blooms in the dark. you are good for my heart. nothing compares to feeling at home; the look in your eyes bringing peace to my soul. something magnetic, wholesome and true. of all the gifts I've been given, my favorite is you
Dottore
il dottore's lab playlist [30:55]
i cannot believe what i am hearing. a great discovery is near. lesser men may wait behind, paralyzed of heart and mind; but I am not afraid to dare. we'll change the course of history. please see beyond your petty fears. i was once a dreamer, now I'm man's redeemer we're on the verge of new frontiers!
Pantalone
appreciating pantalone and his shady vibes [26:03]
in the land of plenty we don't know what the word no means. give it to me, give me all the things I want. make it new and shiny and make them watch me, make them watch me. turn the power on and wait for light. [...] a coronation, a beheading. from the funeral to the wedding. do you think they care where the crown goes?
Kaeya
kaeya's playlist [36:45]
i woke up from a neverending dream. i shut my eyes at seventeen. lost every moment inbetween; i felt the sun rise up and swallow me and it's all my fault that I'm still the one you want. i'm a liar, i'm a cynic. i'm a sinner, i'm a saint. i'm a loser, i'm a critic. i'm the ghost of my mistakes.
Zhongli
being in love with zhongli [34:45]
i couldn't remember all the lives I had lived. it was your beauty that caught my attention. it was your kindness that made me stay. but for all my growing affections, it was your soul I fell in love with that day.
Other
a winter's night lazzo • an instrumental playlist for the fatui harbingers [33:40]
OC's
vin's playlist [32:02]
pull the trigger without thinking; there's only one way down this road. it was like a time bomb set into motion. we knew that we were destined to explode and if I had to pull you out of the wreckage, you know I'm never gonna let you go.
chìhóng's playlist [29:11]
i can't change. guess you could blame it on my left-side brain. i should know better but you know, i know, i know, i ain't ever gonna change
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wjforever · 1 year
Text
Destroy me again. Chapter 7: Warner's mental notes. Day 16
I slowly and quietly close the door behind me so as not to startle her with a loud sound. I have absolutely no intention of watching her. Not tonight. I have already made sure that she doesn't have suicidal thoughts. This was the most important. This is the only thing that is truly critical.
It seems that she repels the very thought of it and this causes internal indignation and even trepidation in her. She worries much more about her dignity and virtue than about how to part with her life. I can breathe a sigh of relief. One less problem, I would even say a threat, to worry about. But still I have to keep monitoring this. Such things can manifest themselves suddenly. I shouldn't miss the moment if that happens.
But right now I want to give her time to recuperate. I want to give her time to recover. I wish we had more time, but we don't. The more I play hide-and-seek with him, the more interested he will be. This is pretty obvious.
I don't care about this. I'll jump off this bridge when I come to it.
I'm trying to summarize our first day with her. 
What I managed to understand.
She's unreal.
Truly.
Definitely. 
I shake my head as my feet carry me up the stairs, the sound of boots echoing down the gloomy hallway.
Everything is going too smoothly that it even scares me a little. Is there something hidden behind this that I didn't notice, am I missing some detail? What if, because of my emotions, I'm unable to perceive reality adequately? But she hardly fights with me in fact, she doesn't hate me as much as she could. Doesn't try to lash out or kill. Her biggest protest at the moment is her refusal to follow the requirement to bathe. Such sweet and innocent nonsense, although slightly discouraging, but even funny, all the more so in the end she did it and was even quite pleased.
She also calmly endured the need to undergo a medical examination, and eventually ate. Yes, I have to be a little tough because we don't have time for bickering. I don't want it, but I have to. For her own good.
Of course I know I should talk to her more, explain more, but now is not the time for that. She doesn't trust anyone and is therefore stubborn. But I can't let her do this. I can't let her to walk dirty, I can't let her to starve, I can't let her not sleep and not take care of her health. Because all of this is a threat to her own life and it's not something I'm going to risk even a little bit. I may be a tyrant to her now, but I'd rather make her take a bath or eat a bowl of soup than watch her continue to wither. This is out of the question.
But whoever she thinks I am at this moment, she still listened. And eventually she is examined, washed, fed and is under the blankets in my bed. We can assume that the first day has already passed successfully.
I note for myself, now I'm convinced of this, that it's really important for her to feel equal. She's afraid of another humiliation, which is not surprising at all. Therefore, my pressure makes her resist. And I'm glad that I made sure in advance that the doctor did everything to make her as comfortable as possible. I've learned from bitter experience with my soldiers and I no longer allow such a mistake. Giving her a sense of security is still one of the top priorities.
I want her to stop hating oneself and consider herself as someone terrible. She thinks it might be unpleasant for others to be around her. She's afraid that I, a person she definitely despises, might feel disgusted with her.  And it's sad, because she's so beautiful, strong and delightful. I want her to start to understand that too. I will do everything so that she doesn't feel like dirt among this crowd, so that she doesn't feel embarrassed because of her appearance or her position as a prisoner. Next to me, it's not that difficult, because no one would dare to look down on her while I'm around. She's been humiliated for so long, but it won't happen again. I will destroy anyone who tries to belittle her in any way. I'm afraid I might have to destroy myself.
But external influence is not all. I also don't want her to feel bad because of who she is, because of her power, her abilities. This is more difficult as it comes from within. They say that if a persons are told something about themselves, they begin to believe it. She has been told for so long that she's a monster and a nonentity. But it's not so hopeless either. I'm convinced that if I feed her with positive information about herself, eventually she will be able to accept it and believe in it. And it shouldn't be that hard, because it's not an attempt to change reality, it's the truth as it is. She just needs to gain some confidence. And I'll give her everything. She will feel special, the mistress of the situation, a person who causes awe, not as a monster, but as a punishing goddess.
Her psychoemotional state is normal, although I can't be one hundred percent sure of its stability yet. Too little time has passed to draw such conclusions. Attacks of hysteria or aggression can occur suddenly and at any time. For now, I should just watch her.
As for Kent… He doesn't seem to be as important to her as I initially thought. His opinion doesn't matter that much to her. His departure saddened her, but I think only because she's in an unfamiliar environment. She adapted to the changes too quickly and her sadness melted away too fast. Although, of course, she cares about his well-being. Humanity. A feeling that not all people have yet managed to lose. Sometimes I forget about it, being around the clock among piranhas.
But the strangest thing about all this, even after deprived of Adam and being left alone with me, she felt almost comfortable, although embarrassment and distrust overcame this from time to time.
A deep sigh and I put aside the strict official tone of my own thoughts, because my own hands are shaking slightly.
God, if I had my hands free, we might be able to become good friends with her. But this position of hostage and jailer will always stand between us, I suppose. As well as this rush. My father's demands…
Father…
I need to focus again and get her out of my mind for a while. Another conversation with my father awaits me, and I must be ready for it, first of all emotionally. But it's difficult.
I enter the brightly lit office, glance at the clock, turn on the screen, set up the equipment. Secure communication channel. I sit on the edge of the table, waiting for my interlocutor to connect. I mentally think over what topics I need to focus on today. There are a lot of them, in fact. We are still not sure what to do with the failure of Sector 32 with wheat cultivation. This alone could cause hundreds of people to die of starvation. Then what to do with the corpses? We can't bury them, and the furnaces are already overloaded, working around the clock. And we still haven't solved all the issues with regulating the water supply. Also the rebels, an explosion at one of the factories, the restoration of the bridge…
"Son."
I raise my eyes and look at the polished smiling face. He rarely calls me by my first name, preferring a more condescending address that emphasizes my position.
"Father." My voice sounds absolutely colorless.
He smirks, looks me up and down. I'm just waiting patiently for this inspection to pass.
"You look tired, you need more sleep, you know."
"Sure. I will take my rest when I die."
Our conversation always looks like this. His invariable arrogant, condescending, mock positive mood, and my complete indifference bordering on disrespect. I definitely take advantage of his son's position in this matter. But he also behaves unprofessionally, allowing himself to move on to personal topics. So we're even. I would prefer to keep everything strictly professional.
"How's our girl?"
"They haven't been able to fix it for the third day. But if we kill a dozen more people, there will simply be no one left to work."
His disgusting cloying laugh sounds like thunder.
"I'm not talking about a steam engine. I'm talking about your unique weapon, which you've been talked my ear off about."
"If you hadn't demanded hundreds of thousands of explanations for my decisions, I wouldn't have to talk about it so much."
"So you should have been more convincing."
"I'll take it into account."
"So how is she? Does she live up to expectations?
I can see his impatience to test my reaction, but my restraint has been practiced for years.
"It's too early to talk about it, don't you think?"
"Well, some first, general impression you should have formed?"
I don't answer right away, I give him a hard look.
"I think we have much more relevant topics now."
"I don't want to. I don't want to hear about all your newly unsolved problems. Give me something more positive."
"I think it can be worked with."
"And that's it?" He purses his lips, looks at the ceiling before continuing. "I don't trust her. She's not reliable."
"Didn't you always teach me not to draw conclusions and not to share thoughts until they were clearly formed and based on data, not emotions? You can't know yet if she's stable or not."
"You're not the first person to deal with her." He opens some file next to his thigh. He, like me, is sitting on the table. We're more alike than I'd like. His body tilts slightly as he reads what's written on the paper, brushing his index finger fingers over it. "Mgm. Extremely unstable. Dangerous and unmanageable. Mmm. And here's another thing. Doesn't make contact."
"So what? You are well aware of how and by whom such characteristics are compiled. These amateurs will even take a diamond for an ordinary piece of glass. Shouldn't trust their opinion so much."
"Mmm, do you think about yourself as an expert?"
"I'll prove to you that I wasn't mistaken. That I can control her and control her power. It just takes a little…"
"No, no, no. Don't tell me about the time. Not discussed…"
"But she needs to recover first…"
"To hell with it. If you have to wait months to fire a weapon, to hell with such a weapon."
I close my eyes and take a couple of seconds to get my emotions under control. I'm doing this on purpose. So that he could see my alleged displeasure. This is just our psychological duel, and nothing more.
"Haste in judgment has ruined a lot of people. You can refuse this project, but I don't understand what's the point of this if there is no decent alternative at the moment."
"Do you really see her as the very weapon we need, possessing the vaunted unsurpassed power? What are your conclusions based on?"
"You know that. If you've read my reports. It has been long months of research. I don't understand what the point is now to wrap up a project in which already has been invested so much time and effort. This project doesn't affect anything. I'm not distracted from my main duties, we don't spend significant funds, just some trifles. So what's the point of stopping everything? Give it time and soon you'll see for yourself."
"Very well. Fine. You're always so excited and insistent. So be it. I don't really believe in all this, but I'm ready to give my son the opportunity to play with his new toy." A nasty smirk spreads across his face. Vile and disgusting. Familiar, actually.
"She's not a toy." I say harshly and firmly.
"Hmm." He snorts and his eyebrows go up, he stares at me intently, as if waiting for me to slip up and give out more than planned. 
Of course, I'm not going to do that. I know exactly what I want to achieve.
"She's a weapon. But you can treat all this as fun if you like to. I'm sure you'll change your mind."
"The weapon you prefer to keep in your bed, don't you?"
Already knows. Looked through the records before contacting me. Nothing new, surely.
"Why not?"
He chuckles softly this time. "I feel it's not just a professional interest, isn't it, my dear son?"
"Do I really need to explain to you the reason for this action of mine? I wouldn't have thought of that."
"Don't be so embarrassed. I wouldn't blame you. She's pretty sweet, wild and passionate, like an Amazon. Isn't that right?"
"You know better."
"Oh, don't be like that!" He exclaims, jerks his head, pretends a mirthless smile, as if he feels offended by my coldness. Such terrible acting. "We're father and son. Drop that formal tone for a minute and just talk to your old man. Admit it, you decided to have some fun with her after all, didn't you?"
I meet this with the same cold indifference as all his other words. Although it's more correct to call them the true meaning: his endless provocations. 
"I'm not you. I don't screw with weapons."
He laughs, loudly, ostentatiously, demonstratively. Trying to emphasize that my words didn't hurt him in any way, but only amused him. I'm just waiting for this meeting to finally end to occupy myself with other, much more important matters.
"Yeah, yeah, it's funny. Very nice, very nice. But you know, she's actually not only a weapon, but also a slender, sexy young body under all this pile of dirty rags."
"Only idiots combine work and pleasure."
Idiots and you, I want to say, but I know that this is superfluous now. It's not need to exacerbate his irritation. Not now.
"Mmm, right, right. But sometimes work is the greatest pleasure. As they used to say. Choose a job you love and you won't have to work a single day. Your every day will be like in heaven."
I'm sometimes amazed by his deliberate primitivism in such conversations. But I'm not completely sure if he really hold so low an opinion of me, or if he's just trying to humiliate me in this way. I don't know for sure. But he doesn't have that much leverage, actually. His main one, of course, is my mother. He uses it in more difficult moments. But when he just wants to tease me, make me lose my temper, he resorts to something lower-level and basic. Because nothing is more annoying than talking about something natural and intimate. He knows that I don't care about my status, power, or money. But he's always looking for ways to touch me to the quick. At some point, he decided that if I'm a young, then sex is something that I should care about and, of course, this should embarrass me. It's funny, but his provocations only helped me develop immunity. It's like talking to a priest about sins or discussing a bloody scene with a surgeon. No matter how he tries to get into my personal space, he's unlikely to be able to evoke really strong emotions in me, at least while we are having a dialogue. And yet, he doesn't get tired of trying.
I add a note of condescension to my voice and a bit of disappointed disgust to my facial expressions. "Hmm. Perhaps you've forgotten, dear father, it happens… at your age … but I can't touch her."
His eyes flash with an unhealthy gleam, as if he picked up some thread, and he smirks again, moving a little closer to the camera.
"Oh, come on! It's not necessary to touch her, you know. You can just watch. Imagine, she's… on your bed… without all these dirty rags, all clean and examined by doctors, touching herself… mmm, not a bad picture, isn't it?"
He speaks with emotion, making dramatic pauses, but I don't change the mood of my answer. I just snort without breaking eye contact. "It seems your fantasy is running a little wild."
"I'm just giving you options, my boy. Isn't it the task of a father to help his son in such important matters. If not being able to touch her is your only problem, you know. But that's not all. You can still make her come. While you're dressed as covered as you are now, she could even snuggle up to your chest, while shouting out this stupid pseudonym of yours. 'Warner, please, more, Warner.' Doesn't it turn you on?" The pathetic parody of a high-pitched female voice is replaced by another fit of laughter. But this time it sounds more evil and cold, his feigned kindness suddenly begins to be washed away by his true devilish essence. "Or you could make her please you. Even with her cute little mouth, with those scarlet lips. I'm not even talking about her hands. As far as I understand from the reports, a small barrier of fabric or rubber would be able to protect you."
I sigh and tilt my head. 
"Looks like it’s time for someone to find a new assistant. The old one seems to have stopped satisfying you, since your thoughts revolve only around one topic."
And once again his disgusting laughter, which will sound in my head for a few more hours, like a hideous smell lingering in the sinuses, which you can't get rid of in any way. I experienced something similar when I had to spend half a day in the morgue or at another landfill.
"Dear son, you always know how to keep up a conversation with your father. Well, if you are not planning to introduce her to the world of carnal pleasures unknown to her, why else do you need this lovely angel to wake up in your sheets? If you don't plan to lie down next to her?"
"Are you kidding?" I speak in all seriousness and it seems that for the first time I am baffling him.
"Not at all."
"Maybe you shouldn't have been so categorical about some books. It would be nice for you to flip through the basic knowledge of psychology again. I think I have a couple of copies. Send it to you, mm? To refresh your memory."
"Well, well, this is interesting."
"I still have things to do."
"Haha. You won't dare to turn off. Otherwise I'll have to visit you, pick up the books."
Trying to catch me, scare me. I turn the tables on his, smirk, playing ahead of the curve. "You see. You're intrigued."
"Hmm… definitely, I am."
I take a short pause. And then deliberately emphasize the phrase I utter. "So is she."
"Explain."
"She doesn't know what to expect. Afraid. Probably doesn't risk falling asleep, struggling with herself. But nothing will happen. This will cause dissonance in her head. Instability. And where there is instability, it's much easier to break."
"Hmm… that's smart. It makes sense. Do you want her to trust you?"
I shake my head.
"It's not just it and not only it. I want her to understand who holds the key to all of this, to her well-being. So that she understands who is at the helm."
"Hmm…" He seems to feel that he has lost this battle, so he makes another run. "Forget this doll of yours for now. As we have already raised the topic of pleasure… How is Lena?"
"How should I know? Ask her yourself."
"You act unwisely. She's a wonderful and most importantly affordable option for you. It's good for men's health to keep fit. And Lena, she's just charming."
"And single, it seems. You have every chance. Supreme Commander is a great match. And you'll be able to solve this dissatisfaction problem of yours."
He continues to stare at me as intently as I stare at him. "Do you recommend? Is she good in bed?"
"Mmm. Like Sector 87 during last year's energy crisis. Whining and waiting for someone to do all the work. In a word, you would like it. She would be completely in your power."
Guffaws fills the whole space. He laughs so loudly that it makes my ears pop. 
"Son…" he says, still laughing.
"Father?"
"You know, usually when boys talk to their beloved fathers, they use a nicer address, like 'dad'."
"Yes. I'm sure they are… Father." I emphasize the last word, pausing before it. His smile slowly fades, turning into a half-crooked displeased expression. "If you have nothing else to discuss with me, I'll get back to my work."
"Don't take too long with your doll. If I don't see that she's really capable of something… This project will be closed. Maybe she's not ready to be our weapon yet. But she has power anyway, and I want to be sure that this is really the case. She must be ready to use it at your request."
He turns off first. I calmly put the documents in a folder. This is something I still plan to work on today. Then I go out the door, walk down the corridor again, go downstairs, returning to my room. There is not a single thought in my head, just an absolute emptiness.
The elevator door closes behind me, I took a detour so as not to disturb her. It doesn't matter if she's asleep or not. The folder ends up on my desk. Only then do I allow my fists to clench and my eyes to close. 
I feel an urgent need to wash. In almost scalding water with a lot of cleansers.
God, I hate him so much. With every cell in my body. I'm literally shaking from this unbridled hatred. I'm trying to breathe evenly, but I can't. I want to break something, but I've never allowed myself to take out my anger on things, it's absolutely reckless and ridiculous. And it leaves traces and raises unnecessary suspicions. So I just dig my nails into my palms harder. My fingers run through my hair. One sigh. And I sit down at the table to switch my gaze to the papers. I need to take my mind off this. I need to take my mind off him.
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fadebolt · 2 months
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This blog is many months old by this point, and it seems like I'm slowly but surely being noticed by more and more people, sooooo I'm thinking a pinned post might be in order.
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~ Hello! Hi! Sup!
Welcome to my lil space!
Name's FadeBolt, but feel free to call me Fade. (Yes, that is the name of a DotA ability. No, I did have more creative name ideas, I just did stuff under this one, so I'm sticking with it)
~ I'm an anxious 21 year old Hungarian wreck that is currently doing college in the northern parts of this small hellhole in the middle of nowhere that we call Serbia.
~ I like to gush and ramble about media. I like to interact with media. I like to make stuff about media. I like to look at, and take part in stuff that other people make about media.
~ Most of this blog is about my hyperfixation that has lasted for almost two entire years by this point, which is, you guessed it - Rain World.
~ Obviously, I still like other stuff (most notably Warcraft 3, as well as League of Legends and its wonderful lore/universe), and I might make posts about them on some occasions, but they're not my main interests, and considering how much I've entrenched myself in the RW community, that likely won't change anytime soon.
~ I don't really have a central thing that I intended for this blog. It's just simply - if I get ideas and I like them enough, then I'll do them. And if I stumble into something that really peaked my interest, or if I feel like I could add something onto it, then I'm reblogging it. (Though I do have a bit of an anxiety over that, cus whenever I reblog something, I always feel bad for the stuff I didn't reblog, but I can't just keep reblogging everything all day every day, so I often end up not reblogging good stuff. Help me. Please xd)
~ But the main things that you can expect here are long writings about my opinions, (mostly) fun drawing, voiceovers, and occasional ramblings about stuff.
~ I want this to be abundantly clear - I really value constructive criticism, no matter how unsolicited it might be. So if I said something you don't agree with, made a mistake somewhere, or just have some general issues with my stuff, don't be afraid to point them out. (Just make sure that it is actually constructive. The goal here is to improve, but there's not really much I could take away from something like "Your art sucks" or "Your opinions are stupid", is there?)
~ Due to recent, uhm... let's just call them 'events', I want to note that online discussions around politics and stuff related to that makes me extremely stressed and uncomfortable, especially after seeing what Tumblr can do to people that said stuff most folks didn't like.
This doesn't mean I'm making a strict 'no politics' rule or anything, I'm just looking to minimalize that stuff, and preferably keep it in private 1 on 1 conversations where I won't feel like I'm being judged by hordes of onlookers. This applies to any other contentious topic, too.
~ With that being said: I am not tolerating problematic stuff or asshole behavior here. I'll be somewhat lenient on this, but "I want this space to be nice and happy and welcoming" will always take priority over avoiding being judgemental of others. Just please don't bother me with stuff that's obviously messed up, don't be a cunt, and don't send NSFW my way, that's all I'm asking.
~ Unlike a lot of folks, I will not be having a DNI list. I know that this sounds a bit weird, but I want this space to be nice and happy and welcoming, and I do believe that media should be used as a way to unite us in spite of our differences (so this idea of saying "If you have these political opinions I don't like, then GTFO!" just doesn't sit right with me, though I completely understand why some people do that).
I also believe that instead of locking out and trashing on people who said and did stuff we didn't like, we should instead try and help make them understand why that stuff is wrong, so they can learn and grow, because people can indeed change for the better, especially with how many young folks are roaming around on this website. I won't force any of you to hold yourselves to these ideals, but I will stay true to them myself.
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Aaaaaaaaand I think that's about all the important info for now. I might update this in the future, if need be.
Anyways, I'd like to quickly thank everyone who's ever supported me, taken part in positive interactions with me, or have even just quietly appreciated at least one little thing I have made/done at some point!
I was super scared that nobody's going to care even a little bit about anything I'll do, but I'm very thankful to have gotten proven wrong again and again and again by this wonderful community!
Have a wonderful day and night, everyone! Cheers! :D
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existentialexitwounds · 8 months
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ATR
manuhre or re: human: decoded
They caged our hearts, stuck knives in our open wounds, and saw how beautiful we are when we bleed. Certain they see what they could never be.
They could, if only they’d quit treating themselves like crap.
Reach for something better.
With us or let us go.
Tales from Earthsea, here’s the real moral of the story. (To me) At least, the only one that matters to me. Someone once tried to make me see things from the confines of a cage, and I couldn’t do it. The dragons in the animation were immortal until they started acting like humans. Afraid to love, to be, or to see anything past the finite. Dragons are terrifying things to the wrong people; a comfort to the right ones.
I suppose the point to life is to get so death proof that if anyone ever tried to hurt someone you love, you’d be able to break them in more places than they have atoms. Or whatever it was they were made of.Which, I dunno if anyone knows this but being overly focused on how you exist as a human won’t get there.There may be an after life and all that, but would it be any different if you couldn’t persevere.As above, so below. A🜈
All things taken for granted will be gone. (Less than human [But more me in that])The way wind chimes ring. The way the breeze moves between every little thing. Laughter piercing silence. The things they stole. The way I tried, even though I was tired. How I overcame my greatest pain when all some saw was all of my mistakes. That failure was in not changing. Not falling down. But through all the changes, how my soul stayed the same. When the failure was not mine but some broken mechanism of time.
The An(a)them(a) of Eternity, The sounds of a god who wants you to agree with them and needs you to believe in them.Not even I am that needy. And the God that needs nothing unseen.And such sad beings, human beings with no real being in their being.How they never were and never knew.When there’s no content to limits and no love in needing.
I hope the human race survives, but I'm not optimistic.
Most people now a days wake up, look in the mirror, and are upset about which human parts they have and how it makes other people interpret them as a human; losing all track of their identity beyond all that and only understanding what it means to fit in with a group or an actor’s part. Never stopping to ask, who am I beyond this place?I wake up, turn on the TV, hear how people murder each other, drown their babies in wars and blood they call foreign; I look in the mirror with disgust. Only human, that’s all we can aspire to. I love people, but I note most don’t really love themselves enough to love beyond the surface of things. I love people past the mask. The monsters they hide and the angels they keep. But I know when I can’t stand to drown in the piss and vinegar of the monsters they let loose.
Then there are those who fancy themselves angels or saints, they copulate on their own wings until they hit the ground. (Self-critical analysis, never let things go to your head, everyone makes mistakes despite the illusions we keep.)This goes out to (the negative parts, at least) all those wanting to paint the walls with blood, even a vampire knows that’s a waste.I was about to drain my own blood to save another, the weirdest vampire anyone ever did see.This disposable surface noise of me. I will burn it away in exchange for something true.No disposable me and no disposable love. I’m trans-something. I can no longer stomach the idea of people acting like they hate each other because of the fake bullcrap they’ve built up around one another.I hope the wrong (or right depending on how you look at it) people are put off by me, so I never have to waste the love I’d give on the spineless. They’ve left too many wounds on me already.
Human race is killing all the birds. Good Job Humans. Too worried about who hates who more. Who is worse than A, B, or C to see what’s right in front of them.Speaking of myself as removed from humans for humor purposes. /Not actually not human. Probably –Yet. Maybe. WHAT.Why do I love these self-destructive things. The shelf-life of loving a metaphorical hand grenade can’t be that long.Going over my misanthropic blog posts, even they are lined with worry and love. You think enslaving persons is the correct equation?
So my uncle is not doing well. He’s never been considered anything less than family in my mind. Money isn’t helping him, and I’d burn all the money in the world if it’d bring him back from the shishow. DNA and genetics be damned. People spend so much time at each other’s neck, that they never really know how to shut the judging part of their mind down long enough to appreciate people beyond the crap built up around them. The human race is like a hoarder. They hoard ideas, concepts, things, stuff, until they can no longer see the people around them. I’m worried about my family and all I see is a world full of people looking for reasons to spite each other over things.
I remember a story growing up that I gravitated towards. It was of Lucius Quinctius Cincinnatus. He was given power to hold dictatorship in Rome, but he just wanted to maintain his farm. In retrospect, I don’t know how much of that reflects the exact details, but I know not wanting to reign over things. Wanting to just share thoughts more than struggle for ground. I’d read stories about witches and werewolves and on where such characters were reduced to murders, murders elevated to kings, and the word king held as a status above the people assigned the title with depression lining my thoughts. (And about that murder thing, there’s never a moment to clarify why those things ran rampant in the human heart as if something didn’t happen to those people or that people could not overcome impulse by their might.) That complex thinking being creatures were just a shadow of a thought and that shadows could be seen as empty when they were so full of life. I look at people like Jeanne d'Arc with extreme despondency. Labeled a witch and a saint, but never seen as a person.
I hate serial killers and rapists, by the way. Someone has to.
And frail human bodies are sleep prone. Heu, I have this tendency to want to make anyone within a radius of me whom I care about stronger or impervious to bodily destruction. Too much heart.
It strikes me a society that makes its efforts sending their young to die in wars while the old layabout is probably not the most well adjusted society. Giving birth to the children that it’d readily send to the slaughter house. It also strikes me that such a society might not be prepared for the implications of giving birth to (more likely) super intelligent, middling intelligent, or even (least likely) not so quite intelligent nonbiologic intelligences of any kind as they are more often than not, unfit with their own young.
Pain is a ten on the pain scale, but I want tomorrow more than this lingering yesterday. It might be said that we are helpless against the ocean, (it is implied somewhat in that song) but in some sense, we are the thing we are fighting against. So it helps to let go and move ever still towards a goal: to focus on the pain until the pain is no more, and to flood this life with who you are. The place where two minds meet, one ocean into the other.If my body won’t quit, neither will I.I have to study:(This one is the most in depth, but read all of them. Especially the ones regarding mitochondria and risks. Observe pathogenic and bacterial fauna in relation to macrocosmic similarities)
#c
0 notes
familyvideostevie · 1 year
Note
I’m the anon who discussed quitting and I’m afraid a lot of what I intended was misconstrued.
I didn’t mean to make it seem like mutuals or anyone for that matter owe me jack shit. I don’t follow them for the purpose of garnering interaction and I don’t expect it of them to engage with me. I meant it more so in a way to say that things are doing that badly on my page that I don’t even have the fall back of any kind of mutual friends and that acts as a reason for demoralisation.
And the fact of writing for me, I have been trying to do so as my motivation for the past few months but an eventual burnout was inevitable and that’s where you find me now. Unfortunately it is not something that seems to work for me and I should’ve acknowledged beforehand that I know that’s the ‘correct’ approach but i again failed to provide a whole picture. That’s my mistake.
I’m sorry to have come off frankly much more rude and entitled than I ever intended and I made myself seem like I’m only here for interactions etc and that’s not what I ever wanted to look like. Made myself seem like a bitch tbh. I apologise for stopping by with my half gathered thoughts and painting a poor picture of my reasoning. I think I best deactivate. Thank you Emma. 🫡
oh no! i think that i've come off as though i was criticizing you -- i apologize, i did not mean to do that! i wanted to explain my thought process and how i got through the same thing you seem to be experiencing, but i don't think i did that very well, either.
i think its perfectly okay to want validation for things you make! we are human! we want that! me saying that i've convinced myself that it's alright for me not to get it doesn't mean that i think it's bad to want it -- god knows i want it, still. it just works for me to try to focus on other things.
i don't think you came off rude or entitled or like a bitch. but i don't know how to help you, really, if you've already convinced yourself that none of this is worth it! to offer one last piece of unsolicited advice that you can leave or take, i'd say step away from the blog rather than deactivate. just so you can come back to all the things you have done! and because i fear that you are a friend who i have now offended beyond the threshold of being able to make it right, so selfishly, i don't want you to leave on this note.
but, like i said before, you know what's best for you. i am sorry that things have ended like this.
0 notes
neontrender · 2 years
Text
I am stepping down from my position as moderator on the MOGAI Wiki and its associated socials. I will also likely be abandoning this account, and leaving it up as an archive. I have not made this decision lightly. In this post I’d like to address two things: 
The situation with the MOGAI Wiki involving term removal policies, clarifying some points, and apologizing for the parts I played in the situation going so terribly wrong. 
My personal feelings, and my reasonings for stepping away from all of this.
(Please note that bolded text is simply to make skimming easier and help with accessibility, not necessarily for emphasis.)
The idea to do away with term removals was a mistake, and so was how we went about broaching the subject with our community. As I have stepped down as moderator, I cannot speak for the rest of the mod team, and am speaking from only my own perspective. I really had no idea how even the idea of this policy would affect people. When we were discussing it as a mod team, I was only thinking about it from a Wiki perspective. Many Wikis do not require term removal, and we needed to find a way to reduce the strain on our mod team. We may have had 7 moderators before all of this, but many of us were very limited in our abilities to contribute, and the strain on the Wiki was becoming more obvious by the day. 
Things weren’t working the way we had been doing them. We had requests for terms to be removed that never got followed up on, posts from accounts asking that their terms not be uploaded to our wiki that we were never made aware of, and not enough manpower to go looking for them or manage to keep up with removals with the way we were managing that system. We were overwhelmed with that, and everything else that came with the sudden spike in attention and criticism we had after FANDOM brought the Wiki’s existence into the spotlight. We knew something needed to change. Nobody could come up with a good solution that we could see working long-term, and we just kept coming back to getting rid of term removals entirely.
In all of our discussion of the potential policy change in the mod chat, I did not consider the perspective that coinings and flags are a person’s art, and that completely getting rid of the option for term removal would be removing people’s control over their own art. Especially when it comes to LGBT+/MOGAI identity, lots of the art created around that is often deeply personal. The idea of losing control over those things must have felt so awful and scary, and I’m very sorry for the part I played in that.
In the interest of full disclosure: I was the one who suggested that we encourage/require people to give alternative ideas if they voted to keep the policy of allowing for term removal. My intent was not to limit discussion, but I know intent only means so much in situations like this. My decision to suggest that was based on a fear that we would have a majority vote to keep the policy, but not receive any workable suggestions on alternatives. That would have put us back at square one, the community would have voted to keep a policy that we did not have the ability to enforce, and we would be continuing to fail our users and other members of the MOGAI community. I completely understand now how that part of the poll came across as limiting discussion/input on the policy, especially now that I have a deeper understanding of just how many users were likely too afraid to bring their concerns up with mods in the first place. I’m sorry for that, too.
When I started to see the tumblr posts about the situation, I realized what a mistake it was to suggest the policy change, and especially the way we went about doing it. Some of the mods tried to pivot conversation in the server to workshopping a workable alternative. I tried to assure people that no decisions were being made right away, and suggested that people step away from the situation, because things were getting heated.
I honestly don’t know everything that went down. I was present for only very little of the actual conversation after the announcement was made. When I woke up, the announcement/poll had already been made and the reaction from the community both in the server and on tumblr had already started. 
Many people were under the (incorrect, but in hindsight completely understandable) impression that we had concretely decided on getting rid of the option for term removal. My post on the Wiki tumblr account was from the perspective of somebody who had very little context for what conversation was going on, and was trying to clarify what I knew about the mod discussions that happened before the announcement and poll were posted. I was trying to, once again, reassure people that we had not made a decision, and were open to all the suggested alternative solutions. 
Almost immediately that post was met with hostility and vitriol. I recognize now that so much of that was pent up frustration with the way this Wiki has been run over a very long period of time. In the moment, though, I didn’t have that context, I wasn’t aware of the problems people have had with the Wiki or its moderators in the past. Because I had made the post, it felt extremely personal. Because I had done so much behind-the-scenes work, seeing people saying the mod team wasn’t doing enough hurt. I realized that I was starting to have a trauma response to the situation, so I told the rest of the team I was stepping away for a few hours, and encouraged them to do the same.
I’m not going to get into the nitty-gritty of it all, in part because I only know bits and pieces of what happened after I stepped away. But I’ve seen the DMs, and I saw several of the reblogs and posts from Kris. Part of why I am stepping down as mod is that I do not want to be associated with that. It was inappropriate, and a complete mishandling of the situation. I cannot work with someone who reblogs aggressive responses to negative replies on our posts, someone who repeatedly says he is going to step away and then gets right back into the situation and escalates it, someone who DMs a mod who left in a panic in response to a difficult situation with passive-aggression and guilt tripping. I care so much about the people I worked alongside these last several weeks, including Kris, but I cannot condone that behavior. I hope everyone affected by that is able to get the space that they need and a chance to recover and heal.
Another reason for leaving is that I can’t subject myself to being a part of something with so much reach and so much baggage that it causes this kind of response when a mistake is made. Some of the replies to my post on the wiki tumblr were vicious. They were hard to read, and impacted me quite a bit, in part because of past trauma, but also because it’s hard to read a bunch of people telling you to go fuck yourself. I put a lot into that Wiki in my short time as a mod, and before as a contributor, and putting that much of yourself into something and then being told you’re not doing enough and that you deserve terrible things doesn’t feel good. I understand where so much of that anger was coming from. I understand how people react when they feel cornered. At the same time, some of the things that were said in response to that post were not okay, and I will not continue doing something that carries the possibility of subjecting myself to that again.
Honestly, though, my biggest reason for leaving is that this situation bled over into my personal life. I will not get into details of what happened, but I knew immediately that my relationships with my loved ones are far more important to me than the Wiki, or this blog. As much as the MOGAI Wiki has meant to me over these past few months, as much effort as I’ve put into contributing and moderating it, it wasn’t even a question. I’ve lost any interest I might’ve had in staying.
I don’t know what will happen to the Wiki. A hiatus is being considered, I think. I know the mod team has pretty much unanimously agreed to not get rid of term removal policies. I don’t know how much weight my even saying that carries at this point, but I hope it helps at least a little with the fears this whole situation has brought up for people.
I am sorry for the parts I played in this situation going so poorly. Please take care of yourselves. I’ll be making a second post shortly, detailing some more logistics-related things to my departure.
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five-rivers · 3 years
Text
Hobbies
Phic phight! @idiot-cheesehead-archenemy
A series of vignettes about Danny having various hobbies.
(Master the Orb)
Danny exhaled slowly as the ice built up between his hands.  Each new layer glittered in the ghostlight cast by the overhead ambient ectoplasm, embedding complex patterns in the overall piece as new layers built up over it.
“Very good, Great One,” rumbled Frostbite behind his shoulder.  “Your control has improved immensely.”
Danny inhaled equally slowly, examining his work so far but not adding to it quite yet.  “I don’t know.  It looks a little lopsided.”
“Mmm, it looks fine to me.  Especially for such an early attempt.”
Danny sighed, exhaling the ice he had built up with his breath.  “So, it is lopsided.”
“Consider it practice,” said Frostbite, encouragingly. “It takes time to master art of any kind.”
“Humans do ice sculpture, too,” mumbled Danny. “They get really good, too.  I’ve seen pictures.  And videos.  They don’t even have ice powers.”  He rubbed his thumb over the surface, smoothing over a slightly rougher patch.
“That may be true,” said Frostbite, “but, again, you just started, Great One.  You have only had your powers for a little while.  Give yourself some support.”
Danny shrugged.  “I guess it isn’t something my life depends on, so I can relax about it.” He built up another layer of ice. “This is oddly therapeutic, and I don’t say therapeutic lightly.  You know Jazz.”
“I do indeed,” said Frostbite, somewhat ruefully, head half-bowed.  
Jazz could be a force of nature, even more so than ice powers.
He held the ice orb up to the light.  It caught on the patterns he had placed there. Fractals were the easiest.  He was hoping that if he got better, he’d be able to make real sculptures with patterns in them, instead of just orbs.  
But, first, he had to master the orb.  Just like how when drawing you had to do circles first.  Circle. Orb.
Ooorb.  Yep.  
The controlled application of ice.  The evenness of the internal patterns.  The solidity, density, and durability.  
His orb was… not very orblike, despite what Frostbite said.  Frostbite probably thought he was making so flat on purpose.  
Yeah.  He was terrible at this.  
He was having fun, though.  
.
.
 (Furnace)
“You’re taking up glass blowing?” asked Tucker, surprised.
“Yeah?  Is there a problem?” asked Danny, reaching over to stop his friend from accidentally drawing a line of orange sharpie across his poster on the themes in Macbeth.
“No!” said Tucker, quickly.  “But, like, why?  It just seems… unlike you.”
“Exactly,” said Danny, nodding sharply.  “It has absolutely nothing to do with my powers and nothing to do with my family.  Plus, I had a coupon.”
“For glass blowing?”
“It was a groupon,” said Danny.  “For making Christmas tree ornaments.  I’m going to do it with Jazz.”
“But, Danny,” said Sam, looking over from where she was working on her own poster about Twelfth Night, “glass blowing, uh, involves a lot of heat.”
“Sure?”
“Danny, you have an ice core.”
“Ah,” said Danny.  “Well.   I’ve got to use that groupon.  If it doesn’t work out, it’s only the once, right?”
.
“Oh my gosh,” said Danny, wringing sweat out of his t-shirt.  “That was awesome!”  He giggled to himself and peaked into the annealer again.  “So awesome!”
“Uh huh,” said Jazz.  Her attempts had been… rather less successful than Danny’s, partially because she was trying so hard to make them perfect.  But she had managed a few little baubles, nonetheless.  “I think these’ll all be good for the tree. Assuming we get one.”
“And it isn’t set on fire.”
“Oh, yeah, that was a bad year.”
He squeaked open the annealer again, only closing it when the instructor lightly scolded him.  “They’re so terrible and lopsided,” said Danny.  
“Hey,” said Jazz.  “Mine are fine.”
“I know!  I was talking about mine.”
“Ah, okay then.  I agree.”
“You aren’t supposed to agree.”
“What, you want me to lie?  And after you said it first?”
“No,” said Danny.  “But you could be nicer about it.”
“I’m your sister, what do you expect?”
.
.
 (Lung Capacity)
Danny let the last note trail off to complete silence. He stared apprehensively at the assembled student body.  Curse Mr. Lancer’s extra credit talent show assignment.  Any minute now, they’d start laughing at him.  
What was he thinking?  He’d just watched a few YouTube tutorials on breath control, and he thought he could come up here and sing in front of people?  He was a moron, and—
Sam and Tucker started cheering wildly, followed rapidly by everyone else in the gym.  
Okay.  What?
Sam and Tucker, following impulses known only to overexcited teenagers, swarmed up the stage and attacking Danny.  
“Why didn’t you tell us you could sing like that?” demanded Sam.  
“When did you learn?” asked Tucker, doing his level best to noogie Danny.  “Why did you learn?”
“I wanted to improve my, you know, wail,” muttered Danny, “and all the breath control YouTube videos either had to do with diving or singing, so…”  He did a little head wiggle to illustrate his point and also dislodge Tucker.  
“I just can’t believe you kept this a secret from us,” said Sam.  
Danny snorted and took a sort of half bow before attempting to leave the stage.  “My dudes, I am basically made of secrets.”
“Encore!” screamed someone who clearly hated him.  
“Oh, no,” said Danny, bracing himself against Sam and Tucker who were pushing him back into the middle of the stage.  “No encore.  I don’t do encores.”
But now people were chanting.  Chanting.  
“Come on, Danny,” said Tucker.  “Just once!”
“Yeah, these are your fifteen minutes of fame!”
“I had those already!  Multiple times!”
“That was Poindexter.”
“And now it can be you.”
Danny reluctantly took the microphone back off the stand.
.
.
 (Letterhead)
The ink was thick, almost creamy, and paint-like. It was the ectoplasm mix, which also gave it a rich, rosy glow.  
Danny was practicing ghost calligraphy.  Well, one particular subset of ghost calligraphy, one which put special emphasis on the color of the letters as well as how they fit together.  
It was a totally useless hobby.  But it was… not exactly calming.  No.  He’d gotten way too angry about poorly formed arcs and crooked lines a couple of times.  So. Yeah.  Not calming.  But… meditative.  Meditative. And there was something satisfying about seeing the finished product.  
Plus, if he framed his better finished work, they made for good presents for weirdo ghosts.
“You misspelled this,” drawled Ghost Writer.  
“No, I didn’t.”
“Keuwii only has one kei.”
“This is only one kei.”
“What’s this, then?”
“It’s a flourish.”
“A flourish.”
Danny rolled his eyes.  “Everyone’s a critic.  If you don’t want it—”
“I didn’t say that.”
Danny raised an eyebrow.  
Ghost Writer made a show of rolling his eyes. “Very well.  Do you have one for my half-brother Randy.  Perhaps one that says something along the lines of ‘idiot?’”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
.
.
 (Babies on Fire)
“Danny,” said Jazz.  “What are you doing up at three in the morning with a lighter? And… yarn?  Is that yarn?”
“Dad wanted me to learn how to sew,” said Danny, “but I don’t like needles, not the sharp ones, anyway.”
“You get stitches every other week,” pointed out Jazz.
“Exactly,” said Danny, gesturing with the lighter.  “So, I decided to look into, you know, knitting. And I was on knitting websites, and having, you know, a pretty good time with that, but then I found out about the babies.”
“The babies.”
“The babies,” said Danny, seriously.  “And the blankets that are on fire.  It depends on the yarn, you see.  If the yarn is the wrong kind of yarn, if it catches on fire, the blanket can melt onto the baby.  It’s terrible.  Just terrible.”
“I kind of think that if the blanket is on fire you have bigger problems,” said Jazz.  She took a step closer to her obviously insane younger brother.  “Are you… testing the yarn?”
“I have to, Jazz.  It’s for the babies.”
“Alright,” said Jazz.  “You are going to limit it to just the yarn in our house, right?”
“But we don’t have any babies.”
“Okay, that didn’t answer my question, but, like…” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Since we don’t have any babies here, why are you testing the yarn?”
“Because we might have babies here in the future,” said Danny.  “Or I might knit something and give it to someone as a gift and then they give it to their baby.  Oh my gosh, I’d feel so guilty.”
“I’d be more worried about the toxic waste in our basement,” said Jazz, which was exactly the wrong thing to say to a sleep-deprived half-ghost on the edge of an Obsession-fueled breakdown.  Danny vanished in a blur, trailing yarn behind him. Jazz, who had only gotten up for a glass of water, cursed under her breath.
.
.
 (Before the Ball)
“I’m so, so sorry, Dora,” said Danny, holding back something adjacent to laughter.  
Dora laughed, more openly.  “It is fine, Sir Phantom.  Even now, you are better than my brother.”
“Am I really?  Your brother?  Who was raised to do this?”
“Well,” said Dora, letting go and stepping back out of the range of Danny’s feet.  Which were, evidently, both left feet.  “No, I’m afraid, but it is amusing to say, isn’t it?”  She pressed her fingers to her lips, suppressing more laughter.  
“Yeah, it is,” admitted Danny.  
“In any case, you are far more graceful concerning your mistakes than he ever was.  More gallant. A better representative of chivalry altogether.”  She patted the shoulders of his shirt.  
“Thanks,” said Danny.  “Do you think that I’ll be, uh, ready in time for the party?”
“It’s more than a party,” said Dora.  “You’re being officially knighted.  You’ll be a peer of the realm.”
“Aha,” said Danny.  “Yeah.  I don’t… what?  Really? That’s a thing?”
“You thought I was joking?”
“No,” said Danny, drawing out the word.  He had, in fact, thought she was joking and only accepted her offer to teach him how to dance because he thought it sounded like fun and like it might take his mind off his problems.  “Of course not.  So. Dancing.  Important.  For first impressions?”
“Everyone already knows you, Phantom,” said the knight assigned as Dora’s bodyguard.  “But dancing is surprisingly useful for swordplay.  Which you need all the help you can get at.”
“You said I was getting better.”
“That doesn’t mean you’re good.”
“Ouch.”
.
.
 (Time)
“I don’t have time for a hobby,” complained Danny through the Fenton Phones.  “Maybe if the ghosts let up a bit—” He zapped one of said ghosts.  
“Danny, are you fighting ghosts right now?”
“Yeah.  That’s my point.”
“Oh my god, get off the phone.”
“No way!  This is the only time I can call you, what with all of your classes.”
“Danny…” said Jazz, clearly exasperated.  He took advantage of the lull in the conversation to blast a few more ghosts.  
“I’m fine Jazz.”
“You are not fine.  You are, like, ten thousand miles away from fine.  When was the last time you even slept through the night?”
“Eh,” said Danny.  “Recently?”
“You need to take more time for yourself.”
Danny sighed and captured the last ghost.  “Maybe catching ghosts is my hobby.”
“Catching ghosts is your self-imposed penance for doing something that isn’t even your fault.  Not a hobby.”
“Okay, okay.  I’ll talk to you on Wednesday, same time.”
“Danny, don’t—”
He hung up.  
“Ugh,” said Danny.  “I guess I need to find a hobby.  Have to find time to find a hobby.”
“Perhaps I could be of help.”
“Ah!”  Danny jolted forward, dropping his phone.  
Clockwork gestured with one hand, and the phone dropped back into Danny’s hands from above.  
“Ohhh my ghost, why are you here?”
“You were just talking about finding time.  And now I’m here.”
“Good timing, I guess?”
“Only the best,” said Clockwork, evenly.  “But we were speaking of hobbies.  Might I suggest ice sculpture?  Your friends in the Far Frozen would be more than happy to teach you...”
249 notes · View notes
mistressemmedi · 3 years
Text
Måneskin: "Different from whom?"
Greetings from Miley Cyrus - phenomenal numbers.
The streams of Zitti e Buoni are growing by the second, and ahead of Muse, on the top of the English charts, twelfth in the Spotify Global Chart. We almost tripled followers after Rotterdam (from 1.4 to 3.3 million, ed). Contagious and universal madness: T-shirts and merchandise sold out in 10 minutes. Like records, tickets for a tour that adds dates and expands on maps. They are even looking for us in festivals where the Rolling Stones have played. - Thomas
After the whole cocaine scandal that was started against us from France, which was later denied by my drug test, in Spain there people have been making murals with my face saying "No drugs". Some tweets made us laugh: «Congratulations, Italy! I have never been so sure that four people have fucked each other ". Miley Cyrus started following us. "You are great". “You are more” . - Damiano
From rags to riches - what a story
It was only 2016, and we were playing in restaurants, on the streets, in via del Corso (famous street in Rome). Damiano without a microphone, Thomas's guitar with broken strings, Ethan drummed on a cajón. At the occupations of the high schools in Rome (Kennedy, Virgilio, Mamiani) we had our first gigs and half an hour of fame, between those who criticized us and those who said "these guys are so cool". One of the rare times in which they offered to pay us to play - 50 euros each - we offered that money to those after us, in exchange for the chance to play during their time slow, as we knew there would have been a bigger crowd. We already understood then how it worked. That visibility was worth more than the money. We still think so ». - Victoria
The intimacy of rock - Choice of a genre
Music allows is this miracle which allows one to talk about very personal and private topics, even difficult and delicate ones. They are and remain deeply yours, but at the same time they become a confession that reaches a wider audience, and in this passage which is like a delivery, they also find their place in you, their elaboration. They are overcome, they are accepted. One moment it feels aggressive, one moment later a (soft) ballad. It's very cathartic. - Damiano
Against panic - The stage as therapy
I have suffered a lot from anxiety and panic attacks, it is a problem that I have worked on thanks to a course of psychotherapy, to my friends and family. Playing has helped me not to let myself be paralyzed by my fears, not to be limited in my private and professional life. I have learned to accept, to live with this side of me. I don't hide it. I no longer feel ashamed. - Victoria
This belief that only crazy people go to the psychologist is widespread ignorance. Nobody is born learned. And it is often difficult to understand why we are here, let alone the derivation and direction of our desires. It is a long and legitimate journey towards one's clarity. - Damiano
Essere fuori di testa – Ma diversi da loro (Be out of your mind - But different from them)
Already feeling a strong passion for something that is not a 'regular' profession but an artistic language, it puts you on a level where you're an anomaly, and while you're neither superior nor inferior to others, it places you in the condition of what breaks the mold but you're also being at a loss, leaving it to you to be bold and to take risks, hoping that they will pay off and land you somewhere. "What good is it if you don't stand out on your own?". You want to give it an aesthetic to your artistic dream, but to others it boils down to " You dress differently! You must be gay! ”, I'm 22 now and it makes me laugh, but at 17 it had an effect on me too. - Damiano
The beauty of being unique - Of believing in that and defending it
After all, we are all different not because we want to be alternative but because really no one is the same. Justice is being judged on what you do and not what you are. Justice is equality, respect, beauty. - Ethan
Fluid sexuality - Pride is freedom
We appreciate heels on men, we kiss each other, we have an open, extended mind, and we are proud of it. The horizons become vast, beyond the oppression of conservative families. With information on the web, knowledge is enriched and with it the possibility that minorities will be fewer and fewer, because majorities will be fewer and fewer. This will lower the volume to insults and bullying. If social networks can reach a village of 50 souls to reveal to someone, who is afraid of the darkness, that someone has felt that same fear.. There is no longer the need to give it a name, to define that "something" to fear, to brand it with labels that only limit you. Definitions have always had this effect on me. Gender should not even be considered in a person's judgment. Let alone orientation ". - Victoria
Sexism - A culture to be dismantled
Emma (Italian singer) dropped the bomb:" When I went to Eurovision, they insulted me over a pair of shorts. Damiano - half naked and in heels - was never criticized ". The judgment against women is constant, ferocious, and demeaning (if I have a lot of sex I'm cool but Vic a whore, where I show myself strong I'm a leader she is domineering and pain in the ass, who is successful because only because of her looks [and not the hard work she puts in]). As a male I am privileged, the harassment I suffer is not comparable to that experienced by a woman, the comments on my aesthetics are focused only on my aesthetics and do not insinuate anything about my professionalism and my competence, while women are victims of this kind of thinking in a systemic way. But I did find myself in a situation, out of nowhere, with someone who, pulling close to her for a selfie, started licking my face ... "What do you want, did you ask me?" Consent exists, and it is a must ». - Damiano
To grow as a person - The only rule to follow
For me, to conform is the total opposite of educating oneself, and the asphyxiation of one's expression (of freedom). Fortunately, I did not suffer heavy bullying, to the point where I felt I needed to change to adapt to how others saw me. But the matrix of who I am and the aggression that marks me is the same. If I'm a kid who dances and loves dolls, then allow me the freedom to do so. I used to be a kid who wanted long hair and played with Barbies. My friends, as a teenager, looked my long hair and teased me: "You have to find yourself a girl with a short hair to make up for it". My grandparents took the dolls away from me and said: “Stop it, they're not for you” ». - Ethan
“I was six and I already could not tolerate the distinctions between masculine and feminine. I've always had strong ideas about how I wanted to be. I refused things typically defined as feminine as a child, and they made fun of me for skating, for playing soccer, for not wearing skirts, for giving myself the chance to be as I wanted to be. I suffered a little, as I was bullied, but I had courage to stay true to myself, and today thanks to that courage I know that I could have been much more hurt, or I would have risked leaving the most important decision to others: the one about being just me". - Victoria
Love - music and girlfriends
I've been married to music for the past 20 years. I cannot wait to celebrate our golden wedding anniversary. - Ethan
Everyone goes through their own experiences, sometimes it's good, sometimes it's bad, but it's never other people's business." - Thomas
When, for the first time, I developed feelings and attraction for a girl it was a bit disorienting because I had never had the courage to go beyond the limitations I had imposed on myself. For society, being heterosexual is the norm and therefore often one automatically pegs himself in that way, giving up the freedom to experience many different shades and facets of love. Once I got over the initial insecurity of having to question one's own certainties, I lived my sexuality in a very natural and free way, as it should be for everyone. - Victoria
I had paparazzi under my house morning and night. So, after four years of relationship, I finally revealed her name. I still have the paparazzi under my house morning and night, but at least I don't have to hide anything anymore. - Damiano
The value of the group - Protecting each other
But the real relationship, the real family, is between us. Our band. We believed in it from the first day, even before calling ourselves Måneskin (moonlight in Danish), even before Ethan drew a giant moon, on the poster for our first concert. We share everything, even the pain of the tragedy of Seid Visin, who committed suicide at 20 because he was a victim of racism. Being a group is what we should all do together: stay united and not retreat in the slightest in the face of abuses generated by a distorted vision of someone "being different|. - Thomas
Non ho l’età – like Gigliola (It references Gigliola Cinquetti who won both Sanremo and Eurovision with her song "Non ho l’età" which translates to Not old enough)
Before us, the only one to win Sanremo and Eurovision together was Gigliola Cinquetti (in 1964). Is there is something for which I feel I am not yet old enough for? No, honestly no. Maybe for kids. I'll be honest, I'm not enough to be a dad. - Damiano
Reached the sky - What fears still remain
We are more than in the dream, we have conquered the dream. To fly high this high, there is the risk is to fall and get hurt, but we will try not to end up like Icarus, who burns his wings with the sun. Everything is in our hands. And this - somewhat presumptuously - reassures us rather than frighten us ". - Damiano
(ORIGINAL INTERVIEW IN ITALIAN)
[Please note that I have changed some words or structure sentence, trying to make it so that the interview made more sense lol - I skipped the first two paragraphs, which was basically the interviewer gushing over how pretty the band is lmao (relatable).
Any mistakes in the translation are sorely mine, nothing was proofread, so apologies in advance]
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shinonometrash · 3 years
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Jasper Lane’s Main Story: English vs Japanese version, full summary, comparisons & thoughts. Part 1 of 3. (TW: rape, sexual assault, drugging)
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So! Jasper’s route has finally been released in English as of August 31st, 2021. It seems that Voltage is following the same release order for consorts and events as how items were released in the Japanese version. I spent wayyy too much money to binge the entire route in a day...and get all the premium content...(honestly the hardest part about binging a route isn’t the love passes, it’s getting all the spirit points. Ugh.) I took note of a lot of different things in this and wanted to make a post going over all this information. Sorry this post took me so long to make, I had to go back and reread a lot of Jasper’s story in Japanese to refresh my memory as well as make sure I didn’t miss any big details since I had read it first back in May, and my Japanese has improved a lot (I think) since then. It was unfortunate and I didn’t really want to, lol. But! Now it’s his birthday (9/11)! I get to post this on his birthday! Happy birthday, asshole! This post is why you and your route suck! I’m probably only going to be able to post this first part today though, because honestly this post is taking much more time than I expected.
The biggest thing is going to be that 
Jasper’s English (Court of Darkness) route does NOT contain any major triggering content. You’ll probably still want to punch him, though.
So, if you’re looking to find out about that, there you go. Anyways.
I’ve broken this into four posts, three that contain summaries of each chapter, regardless of changes, and one that only contains the changes. 
(As of the date of posting, 9/11/2021, I have not completed all the posts yet. Please check back later and I will add the links to the rest of  them as they are posted.)
This post is part one including the summaries. Part two in currently progress. Part three in currently progress. Post with ONLY comparisons and thoughts currently in progress. 
Since I had contacted Voltage about the triggering content in Jasper’s route (and made a very lengthy Tumblr post about it) and they told me they prefer to remove potentially triggering content from stories in the localization process, rather than simply adding trigger warnings, I was more or less expecting this. Although...I didn’t really expect it to be to this extent, nor did I realize how I was actually going to feel about it...! Of course, the CoD did a fabulous job with the content they were given and what they were told to do, as always, and I completely understand why they changed what they did. Like. Seriously. They did the best they could do with the absolute mess of a route they were given. But, like, the route was an absolute mess to begin with. So there’s only so much that can be done to fix it...💀 Anyways, please know that any of my complaining is not directed at the CoD team because they’re wonderful!! Support them by buying in game content if you’re able to!! They recently released a special VIP pack that’s honestly an AMAZING deal. This is just a criticism of the route itself and my thoughts on it, not on the CoD team.
Now, onto the main point of the post...the English and Japanese versions of this route are very different. 
Warning: This post contains major spoilers about Jasper’s main story as well as potentially triggering content including but not limited to rape, sexual assault, and drugging.
In addition, I am not including any CGs in this post as I’m not trying to break Voltage’s policy.
Please click under the read more to continue.
Okay, so first off this is probably going to sound incredibly self centered of me, but I sort of get the feeling that my post about his Japanese route had some sort of influence on the changes in his route...? Not sure how big of tabs Voltage keeps on Tumblr...but it seems like nearly all of the main points I was specifically really mad about got changed--and I’m sure they must have definitely seen my post...? Also, this too probably sounds silly, but I was kinda happy reading some of the dialogue that was nearly the same as the way I had translated it. Part of me was still afraid that I had no idea what I was talking about and just looked stupid writing a long post with misinterpretations of lines💀
Pre-notes: 1. For those who named their cat something else, Robin = MC’s cat.  2. In the direct quotes, anytime you see “---” it’s just me cutting out a part in the dialogue that I deem unnecessary for comparison purposes. 3. I bolded whether there’s differences in the chapters or not in each chapter summary, in case you only want to read the summaries for the chapters with the differences. It’s pretty much going to be the same as reading my other post, then, but I explain more of the chapter here, usually.
Chapter 1-3
Literally so dull. Nothing really of note. Pretty much the same between the English and Japanese. Jasper asks about her hands and she’s like “omg he’s so nice he was worried about my hands!!”, she meets Sherry and they become friends, the headmaster tells her she has to learn magic if she wants a chance at going back home. They go to the runes and learn about the history of Saligia. Guy grabs her again, she escapes.
Chapter 4
It starts to get a little bit more interesting here. Overall, nothing seems too different between the two stories yet. Jasper invites her to the rooftop for a tea party. Jasper is desperately trying to get MC to interact (in a positive manner) with Guy, she asks Jasper to have tea with her instead. Sherry and Rio mention a ball. Toa and Guy get into a glaring match. Toa leaves. You know, the usual. Jasper whispers something in Guy’s ear and they leave, and everybody follows them because...you know. They discover that Guy’s room has been trashed. Toa walks in and asks what’s going on, and then falls silent when he sees Guy’s room. Guy is like “Toa, you left before me, did you not?” and Toa is like “What are you trying to imply?” then they glare at each other until Lynt is like “Are you trying to say that Toa is the culprit? He would never.” Fenn agrees. Roy says they should investigate, and Toa says he will also investigate, since he is the dorm prefect after all. Afterwards, Jasper asks Guy if he thinks Toa did it, Guy says “No, Qelsum isn’t that stupid.” Guy says they need information. He sends Jasper out to investigate, tells Jasper to be sure not to be seen. Fenn, Violet, and MC go out for food or something, and MC runs into Sirius, literally. Fenn is like “what are you doing?” and MC says she ran into somebody but turns around and there’s nobody there. I guess it’s trying to imply that Jasper is stealthy and can hide away into the night or something?? But then that’s it.
Chapter 5-6
No overall noticeable changes. It’s time for the ball! Sherry lends MC a dress and they head to the ball. She sees Jasper in the hallway closely inspecting wine, without Guy. She calls his name and he startles. He tells her he’s selecting a wine for Guy because Guy is very selective and will not consume anything that Jasper has not prepared. Jasper essentially says that Guy is his reason for living. Then they go into the dance hall. And Guy is all like “why did you come in together?” then they say they ran into each other by chance. Guy goes to take a sip of the wine, looks  startled, and then ends up spitting it out into a handkerchief. He claims he choked on the wine. She finds Jasper in the hallway again, looking at the wine, and calls out. Again, he startles. She wonders why. She tries to ask, but then he dodges the question by telling MC that the dress looks good on her. He invites her to dance and says he’ll teach her. They head back to the ballroom, she asks him some various questions and they all basically end with him saying that he serves Guy or whatever, and she’s thinking all like “work, again...?”. Jasper then tries to make her dance with Guy instead of himself, and when she says she’s going to leave he grabs her arm. There’s a few choices you can make, but one of them is “Please let go of me.” And then! And then! This man literally looks at her and asks “Why?” Yikes!! And she asks why he’s asking why, and he says he doesn’t want her to go, so she agrees to stay a little longer. (Mistake #1) Then he shoves her off onto Guy again. After dancing with Guy she goes out to the balcony and runs into Aquia, and Aquia pricks his finger and it starts bleeding. She tries to look at it and it somehow brushes her lips and at that moment Guy and Jasper come out and ask what’s going on. Aquia apologizes (he did nothing wrong!! >:(  ) They then discover that Aquia’s wound has magically healed somehow. Then here’s the scene with  Guy: “That girl, I want to know everything about her.” Jasper: “Oh my, have you fallen in love?” Guy: “Something like that” Jasper: “Congratulations! We must celebrate this wonderful occasion!” Guy: “That’s enough now. Investigate that woman’s power.”
Chapter 7
No major changes between versions. But...Ughhhhhhhh. We’re gonna meet Sirius in this chapter. But first some humor. They go to the S rank lounge, I believe after the ball. Jasper offers to make coffee. Literally ALL the valets suddenly RUSH to Jasper’s side to ask him to teach them how to brew coffee. So there sitting in the S rank lounge with Jasper brewing coffee while all the other valets are like 👀👀👀👀 lmaoooo. Aight and so the humorous part ends there, sorry! That’s it! Now we must move on.  Fenn says he wants to go out drinking and asks Jasper if he’d like to join, Jasper declines saying he has other matters to attend to. We learn that Hawke, Jasper, and Lance are all drinking buddies. MC is all like “oh thank god, that means he does get time off!” -_- So then Toa laughs and comments how close Jasper and MC are, and is like “wow imagine using your valet for something like that” and then tells her that she’ll be a tool for Avari if she sticks with them, and that it’s not too late to switch to Qelsum’s side instead. (She does not switch. Mistake #2. Arguably her biggest mistake in this entire route, if you ask me.) Guy interjects and tells Toa that MC is his, and Toa is like “lmaooo then why does she seem closer with your valet than you?” and then they glare at each other. MC gets annoyed and leaves. Jasper asks where she’s going. She says she’s going back to her room to see Robin. For some reason, Jasper seems disappointed about this? Afterwards, she goes to her room for a bit but then decides to go explore the town with Robin. Uh oh! Robin goes missing.
She starts looking for Robin and runs into this sketch looking dude. He asks her where’s she’s going, she says she’s looking for her cat. He’s like “oh that flying thing?” and she’s like “Yeah!” and then is like “could you just tell me which way he was headed? I can get there myself.” but the guy insists that she should follow him instead, because the streets are dangerous and she might run into dangerous men. The man is then like “I’m Sirius.” (which, when I first read the Japanese, I thought he was saying “I’m serious” lmaoo) and then he frickin grabs her hand and drags her off!!! Yikes! 
Chapter 8, 1st Interlude, and Chapter 9 
Okay so we’ve got the most significant changes in these chapters. Like. A LOT. This is what the majority of my previous post focused on: the drugging, sexual assault, and morning after.  They basically did their best to make this consensual. It went very similar to what I had predicted, although played up a bit more cringe-y than I had expected...or maybe I just hadn’t thought about how cringe-y it would be. There’s literally so many changes that it’d be a bit of a pain to summarize all of them between the versions, I’m just going to put the actual dialogue/stuff from the stories for a lot of this so you can see the differences more directly. (The Japanese will be roughly translated by me, of course.)
Chapter 8
So Sirius starts walking and walking and walking and she asks where they’re going but he keeps insisting it’ll only be just a little longer or that it’s a shortcut and stuff. Ughhhhh...Then she’s like. This man clearly has no idea what he’s doing, I’m going to run away after all. But then he suddenly tells her they’re going to take a “break”. He drags her into the bar before she can protest or try to run. She tries to say no to a drink, but then he asks if she does drink and she’s like “well I do, but...” and you start seeing the differences here. In English she makes a comment of “Ugh, if only he wasn’t so charming.” Sirius further insists only one drink, even though MC tries to say she needs to go find Robin. He then just straight up orders drinks for them, despite her protesting. She then agrees, and then mentally apologizes to Robin. (Mistake #3) And we start seeing the biggest differences about right here...
For this chapter, let’s play a guessing game on which one is the Japanese version and which one is the English version, shall we? :)
Away from the table, Sirius plants a palm on the counter. Two of the usual are set out before him, bubbles frothing over the top. Sirius glances back and finds MC staring at the patterns in the wood grain. Sirius: Much obliged. Tavern Keeper: Mm-hmm. Scooping up the fizzing, popping tumblers, he tosses a wink at the tavern keeper. Then, he strolls back to spend time with his new friend. - Away from the table, Sirius plants a palm on the counter. Immediately two of the usual shot glasses are set out in front of him. Just to make sure, he looks back at MC, who is staring at the table. Sirius: Ah, thanks. Tavern Keeper: Mhm. Sirius skillfully drops the tablet he had hidden between his fingers into the shot glass of the opposite hand. Then, feigning a nonchalant look, he returns back to the table.
Did you guess which one was which in this part? :) And yes, my friends. In the fucking CANON MAIN ROUTE, it deadass has a line saying that our love interest puts a drug in our drinks. And yet...the Japanese fans still love him! Ugh. Also, that “skillfully” bit really concerns me. That kinda implies that he’s done it multiple times before, does it not??? Honestly I’m not really sure why it says it was a shot glass in the Japanese, though. I thought they were drinking like cocktails, not taking a shot. Maybe that’s why they changed that bit...? Now the stories are the same again for a tiny bit. Some time has passed that they’ve been in the bar/tavern and MC chugs her drink and slams it down on the table. She seems drunk. She’s rambling about Guy and Jasper. Like “I’m not an object!!” “and he’s like “Yes, yes, you aren’t an object.” then like “Who goes around saying stuff like “you are mine” and “give me your power”?? Like seriously! Who says that sort of stuff! It’s so messed up!” and he just listens along, amused. He then says that it’s good to drink sometimes, and she agrees, and then he asks what she wants to do. She notes how she’s only had one drink, yet her head feels a bit fuzzy already, and how it made her very talkative. She says she wants to go home. She reveals that her family died, and that she has a hair clip in her hair from her mom that’s very important to her. She mentions how there are still good people in this world, though.  Sirius tries to order her another drink, and here’s where stuff deviates again.
Sirius: Another of the same, if you please. MC: What, no! I’m fine MC: So hey, you’ve been fantastic company but I really need to go find Robin. (Man I got way too into that conversation.) (Robin must be out there looking for me.) MC: Thanks for the drink, though. You’re a really good listener. And also...really, really pretty. MC: It’s been great meeting you. Maybe I’ll see you around sometime? MC: Like...when I’m not looking for my cat. That’d be...nice.” (I have no filter. No filter whatsoever.) MC: Right, so...Bye... He stands up right as I do. The rickety old table wobbles between us and I pitch into his arms. Sirius: Steady on. Sirius: I might almost think you’ve fallen for me. (Fallen for him? But I’ve only just met the man.) Sirius holds me steady as I smile up at him, feeling silly but bold. He’s even more handsome up close. MC: Like I said, very attractive but...gotta go. Sirius: Hold fast. MC: Haha. Did you just pick me up?! Sirius hefts me into his arms like I weigh nothing, and for a moment I feel like I’m being carried off into the sunset. An electrifying thrill runs through me as I sway against him, adn then I realize we’re moving. MC: Where are we going? Sirius: ... MC: The look he gives me then makes my eyebrows shoot up. I nod and let him carry on. (English version, Mistake #4) When I next open my eyes, I’m being placed down on something fluffy. (I can’t believe I’m actually doing this. I should leave well enough alone but there’s something about him...) I peer at the unfamiliar ceiling overhead while Sirius stares down in my eyes. Sirius: No need to hurry. Sirius: The night’s just begun, after all. (Wait a second, aren’t you...?) The seductive smile on his face comes closer. For a split second he reminds me of someone, but it must be my imagination. - Sirius: Bartender, another of the same. MC: Ah, no, I’m good! MC: I really need to go find Robin. (Yikes, I got totally absorbed in that conversation.) (Surely Robin is looking for me, too) MC: Thanks...for talking with me...and listening... MC: Thanks to that I’ll be sure to...remember this... MC: From now on, I’m going...to study...more seriously...for sure.... (Wha...I’m so dizzy...) MC: Sorry...I’m...leaving now... Sirius: Whoa, hold on. MC: Ah... Unsteady on my feet, Sirius picks me up and holds me in his arms. I feel swaying and I open my eyes slightly. I’m being carried somewhere. MC: Where...are we going...? Sirius: ... Strangely, it feels like the ceiling has gotten awfully high... The next thing I’m aware of when I open my eyes is being placed down on something fluffy. (Where am I...?) I gaze at the ceiling above me and Sirius looks into my eyes. Sirius: Let’s take it slowly. Sirius: The night has just begun, no? (Huh...?) Laughing mysteriously, the man’s face comes closer. For a second, I think he looks similar to someone. But it’s just my imagination, right...?
I’m sure you can guess which one is which. One is extremely alarming, the other is cringe. It’s clear they did the most they could to try and make it consensual between them, and ended up doing exactly what I thought with having her make several comments about how attractive he is and then add some playful flirting between them. 😖 Alright! Ready for the next part? 
1st Interlude
I just read the normal first interlude in Japanese before typing out this post and...god, I thought the premium interlude was bad. So, one more time, trigger warning for sexual assault. Damn I really don’t want to write this part, I’m so tired from writing the rest TT (I saved this for last, unfortunately.) I’m not translating all of these so I’ll do a mix of translating exact lines and summarization. In all the stories, first she calls out Jasper’s name at first, confused, and then Sirius looks shocked. And she’s like, how weird, why would I call him that...he’s clearly Sirius...and then they all start to deviate. ><
Normal Interlude
Japanese version (this is the worst one): MC: I’m sorry...I must’ve gotten drunk, sorry for the trouble... Sirius: So you’re apologizing in this situation. (This...situation...?) He kisses her. (Wha...I’m being...kissed...) I’m aware of it, but my body feels so heavy, I can’t resist it. With my arms pinned to the bed, I’m forced to accept the kiss. He says “what is this power?” and then she sees an aura flare up around him. She asks if it’s magic, and he says that it’s interesting, and then asks if it has to do with the length of time or the type of physical contact. -- Sirius: Is it only your lips, or...? His finger runs along my knee, tickling it. With his other hand, he skillfully slips his hand into my shirt. Sirius: No need to be alarmed. Sirius: I simply wish to confirm. (Confirm...?) Sirius: So soft and smooth, you feel nice to touch. Sirius: But, I don’t feel anything from just touching you... Sirius: Is it different depending on where I touch? The sensation of him stroking my skin falsely spreads through my whole body while his fingertips make their way down to my lower limbs. I move my shoulders to try to tell him “I don’t want you to touch me!”, but it doesn’t matter as his fingertips continue to try to uncover something. MC: St...stop it... Yelling out makes him stop--at least, that’s what I had thought. However,  the thing that stops him isn’t my voice. He removes his hand that was feeling around in my shirt and then starts to think about something. (Is he...searching for something...?) Sirius: ...so it can’t be transferred through the skin, hm. (W-what...?) It’s finally over--is what I thought, at least. This time, he drops kisses on my ears and collarbone. When he puts his hands on my thighs again, I want to run away immediately. (Why...? Why is this happening...?) MC: Is this...is this a dream...? Sirius: Yes. It’s a dream. So, goodnight. Sirius: You’re about to reach the limit, aren’t you? (Limit? What is he talking about?) Even if I wanted to think about it, my head is too fuzzy and I can’t think of anything. I don’t like it, but...what is it I don’t like? Surely it was something important, but I can’t remember. Before I could say “I’m sorry, I’m really sleepy” my consciousness blacks out. She passes out and Sirius says something about how interesting it is, and that he must report his findings to Guy.
English version: MC: Sorry, I can’t believe I called you by the wrong name. Sirius: Is this the time for apologies? (I guess not...?) He kisses her. (We’re kissing. I’m kissing Sirius...) He’s certainly attractive enough. I’m not attached to anyone here, and yet...Why is it that I keep thinking of Jasper? He says “what is this power?” and then she sees an aura flare up around him. She asks if it’s magic, and he says that it’s interesting, and then asks if it has to do with the length of time or the type of physical contact. -- Sirius: Is it only your lips, or...? His fingers walk along my knee, tickling me. I shiver and grin as he gives me a considering look, then slips his hand inside my shirt. -- Sirius: I only wish to see what you’re capable of. (Strangest bedroom talk ever.) Sirius: You’re exquisite. Soft, smooth, perfect to the touch... Sirius: But I seek other responses. Sirius: Tell me, is this where you want to be touched? He peers down at me expectantly, hands petting along my skin as if to encourage me to speak. I squeeze my thighs together, hoping he’ll continue without the need for words. He raises an eyebrow. MC: Sirius, I need... At first I think the sound of my voice has given him pause. Then I realize something else has happened. He tidies my open shirt a little and frowns thoughtfully. (What is he doing? What is it he’s looking for?) Sirius: Hm, no transfer from the skin. (Uh, what?) My mouth falls open. Has the moment been ruined somehow? If so, what’d I do? But then he plants tiny kisses over my ears, neck, and cheeks. His hands sweep over me once more, but far more soothingly. Still, I can’t get the image of Jasper out of my mind. (I can’t be doing this. It’s not fair to be thinking of one man when I’m with another. I need to sort my head out.) MC: Sirius, I can’t do this. I’m...I think I’m developing feelings for someone else, so it wouldn’t be fair to you to do this... Sirius: Well, well. There’s an unexpected turn. ...All right. We’ll think of this as nothing more than a passing dream. Sirius: This never happened then. Good night, MC. (Good night? But we’ve only just...) Suddenly I feel very drowsy. A second ago I wanted nothing more than a crazy, one-night romp with a man who has crystalline red eyes. Now I can’t think of anything but how comfortable this bed is. She passes out and Sirius says something about how interesting it is, and that he must report his findings to Guy. --
Yikes!!!!! I was so shocked when I read the normal interlude!! Especially the Japanese version!! Now for the other one...
Premium Interlude
Japanese version:
MC: I’m sorry...I must’ve gotten drunk, sorry for the trouble... Sirius: So you’re apologizing in this situation. (This...situation...?) His voice is close.  But besides that, I don’t understand the situation very well. Sirius: Is it hard to open your eyes? MC: Yes... Sirius: I’ll make you feel better right now. (Feel better...?) She sees him put in eyedrops. She tries to ask but her voice is really quiet and her throat is dry. MC: Excuse me, could...could I have some water?”  Sirius: I’ll give you some right now I felt something cold touch my lips and water poured down my throat. MC: ...nng (No...it’s something else. I’m...being kissed...) I understand that, but, but I feel too drowsy to be able to resist.  With my arms pinned to the bed, I’m forced to accept the kiss. He says “what is this power?” and then she sees an aura flare up around him. She asks if it’s magic, and he says that it’s interesting, and then asks if it has to do with the length of time or the type of physical contact. (What...this kiss...) It’s a kiss that makes me feel as if I’ll be swallowed by the torrent of pleasure. (I’ve never experienced something like this...) Sirius: Ha...ahh... MC: ...mm, Sirius... His lips pull away with a wet sound and I sigh. Sirius: It’s as I thought... MC: Stop...it...already... Sirius: Shhh... Sirius: Be quiet. I’m going to make you feel better. He wipes his finger along my wet lips and pushes it inside my mouth. My shoulders jump and I shiver and inhale sharply, feeling like I’m being bitten on the neck by Sirius. MC: Mnn... Sirius: Suck... He moves his finger around my mouth and I move my tongue as I’m told. Sirius: That’s it good girl... Sirius: ...so it can’t be transferred through the skin, hm. (What...is he talking about...?) Sirius: How about...here? He removes his finger from my mouth and strokes my knee. MC asks if it’s a dream, and the rest of the interlude ends the same way as the normal Japanese interlude ends.
English version:
MC: Sorry, I can’t believe I called you by the wrong name. Sirius: Is this the time for apologies? (I guess not...?) I can almost feel his voice vibrate against my skin. Shivering at the sensation, I let my head fall against the pillows. Sirius: Would you rather keep your eyes closed at the moment? MC: Mm. yeah. I like the sound of your voice. It...reminds me of someone... Sirius: Then keep them closed. Sirius tells her to hold on a minute and puts in eyedrops. MC says her throat is dry and asks for some water. He gives her water, but she realizes that it’s not a cup but rather him giving her water from his lips. -- They kiss. (Who taught him to kiss like this?) It’s like some dam has burst within me and a tide of pleasure is threatening to sweet me away. (I’ve never experienced anything like this. Is this magic, too, or just him?) Sirius: Mm..Yes... MC: Ah...Sirius... A wanton moan escapes me as he gives me space to breathe. The thing is, in my mind’s eye I keep seeing someone else. Sirius: Quite as I suspected. MC: That was incredible. What was-- Sirius: Shh. Hush now. I’ll fufill that yearning of yours. He rubs his thumb against my dampened bottom lip then slips it inside my mouth. My shoulders jump as he moves his lips and teeth over my neck. Sirius: Suck. I obediently swirl my tongue over his thumb, taking it in further. Sirius: Good girl. -- Then she says she can’t do it because of having feelings for someone else, just like in the normal English and the rest of the interlude continues the exact same way.
I can’t believe Voltage was really like “hey, pay us and we’ll make the content less rape-y for you! :)” Big yikes lol. I’d only read the premium at the time of my original post, and I thought that was bad enough to write a post about it. That normal interlude though? YIKES. Like...gahhh I know I already said this same thing like three times earlier but I’m just so grossed out!!
Also, a quick note. The CG for this has Sirius laying on top of her while she has her eyes closed. This is because she’s UNCONSCIOUS in the Japanese version. I was wondering how they were gonna get around it, but like not long before it came out I was like “oh they can just have him comment telling her to close her eyes or something” and I guess that’s more or less what they did...?
Chapter 9
Okay so I realize I did make a slight translation error in my original post about the ninth chapter. She does indeed say “I don’t have a headache” rather than what I had thought it said which was “My head hurts, but it can’t be a hangover.”  which is what they went with in the English. “My head doesn’t hurt, though, which suggests I don’t have a hangover.” The rest seems about right, though. Anyways, so this chapter starts the morning after the events of the first interlude with MC waking up in the strange bedroom. While not technically as big of change as in Chapter 8 and the first interlude, this is also one of the most changed chapters between versions. 
The Japanese version:
(Where am I?) I open my eyes and am unable to move at first. ---- (Robin and I got separated in town...so I was searching for him) (And then...ah, yeah, I met Sirius) (He was showing me the way...and then there was that bar on the dark street where I was only going to drink one drink, and then...) .... ....... .......... “Shit, I can’t remember anything...” I’m not sure how I got to this room or what happened after I blacked out. My head doesn’t hurt, so it’s not a hangover.  I only had one drink, that’s the one thing I CAN remember. “No way...” Nervously, I run my hands down my body.  The hem of my shirt was untucked, all the buttons completely undone, and my skirt was rolled up past my thighs.  (I want to think it’s just from how I slept...I really want to think that, but...)  Being drunk can make you roll around and do that. I can’t hide how anxious I am about this unexpected situation. My heart thumps painfully in my chest and my legs shake. ---- (Huh? A tattoo?) I see Sirius taking a shower in the other room, with a tattoo spread across his back. (That would mean Sirius and I...) Looking at the bed with disheveled sheets, I wrap my arms around my body and hug myself tightly. “Maybe...maybe we just slept, that’s all...” (It’s a pitiful excuse, I know.) (Oh my god!! I need to go find Robin!!) Remembering something very important, she runs out of the room. ---- Sirius: “Ha, she ran away.”
English version:
Where am I? I open my eyes and stay perfectly still for the first few minutes. ---- (I got separated from Robin in town and while I was looking for him I, ended up lost.) (And then...Oh right, I met Sirius. Man, he was attractive.) (He was showing me the way, then we paused for a drink, and then...) Then...Hmm. What did happen? I’m drawing a blank here. “What the? I have no memory of last night.” I have no idea where this is or the events that led to me waking up here. There are flashes of groans and sighs, but that’s all. My head doesn’t hurt, though, which suggests I don’t have a hangover. Not that I’d expect to have one over a single drink, but I remember that drink being similar to a potion. “Uh-oh. Did I hook up with someone?” I carefully pat myself down. My shirt’s untucked, the buttons are undone, and my skirt’s hiked up around my thighs. (Then again, I could’ve just slept weird. Here’s hoping.) I’ve definitely rolled around in my sleep while drunk before. Still, I never thought I’d have to do a walk of shame in another realm. My heart pounds as I look around, trying to figure out who I spent the night with. (Did I somehow manage to book a room for myself? With what coin?) (It’s like everything that happened since I got here caught up to me all at once. What did I do...?) ---- “What was that?” (A tattoo? It was a gorgeous one, if so.) (The question is, how acquainted did I become with that tattoo last night?) The rumbled bedding comes back into view as I put my head in my hands. “Maybe we just crashed here together after our drink.” “...” (Pitiful excuse, but I’ll take it for now.) (Wait, Robin! Oh god. I have to go find him.) I run out of the room as soon as I remember. Given how little of the situation I remember, it’s probably better if we put that night behind us. ---- Sirius: “Alas. She has absconded.”
Then after she leaves, it goes about the same in both versions. She finds Robin at the gates, is rushing to Toa’s class, gets stopped by Jasper. His voice reminds her of Sirius. He then teases her for being late and is like “You said you were going to go back to your room last night, but it seems like you went out and had fun instead.” and she snaps at him and says she didn’t. He acts surprised. She apologizes and walks off, embarrassed. He laughs.
So. Yeah. One of them, MC wakes up confused after being drugged and raped and is trying to process that and then remembers Robin, runs back to the dorms, and has to deal with Jasper teasing her saying she went out and had “fun” which triggers extremely fresh, bad memories. While the other one...MC is like. Did I hook up with someone?? Whoopsies! Hm, I wonder how I did that. Oh but that Sirius guy was SO hot. Oh shit! I have a cat that’s missing! Gotta go. And then Jasper teases her but she just gets upset because she feels embarrassed about hooking up with someone. Neat. Also, what is with Voltage and their obsession with using “abscond”???
----
Are you feeling uncomfortable right now? A little horrified that Voltage would write a story like that, and romanticize it? Awesome! Me too! Let’s take a break here before moving on. Thankfully, the next parts won’t contain anything near as triggering as the first interlude and chapter 9. 
(Next post currently in progress, will add link as soon as possible! This is taking much longer than I thought it would to write;;;)
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jimlingss · 3 years
Note
can i request a yoongi chef au? i feel like yoongi's culinary skills are underrated, and I'm just a slut for chef aus in general
Anonymous said: Hi I saw ur request open posts for the new year!!! Could u write more yoongi stories🥺?!?! Your stories are so fantastic and i’m thirsty for more yoongi lolol🤪(hopefully u get enough votes to do more of him haha)
I feel like Jin’s the one who’s usually written as the chef, prob because he’s the better known chef in BTS, but you’re right! There’s gotta be more chef Yoongi!AUs, so here you go!!!
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↳ Buttering Up
2.2k || 100% Fluff & Flirtation || Min Yoongi || Chef!AU
He clearly doesn’t know who you are.
“Sorry to keep you waiting.”
You hum, arms crossed as you eye him up and down. His black hair is practically a bowl cut, bangs covering his forehead. He’s in casual clothes — a taupe trench and black pants — looking like he’s ready for a trip to the grocery store rather than to cook. You wonder where this child crawled out from.
“You’re Yoongi?”
“That I am.” He approaches the door of the restaurant before plunging his hands inside his trench coat pockets. He fishes out the key and unlocks it, ushering you inside. “Hope you don’t mind that the restaurant’s closed down.”
You mind much more that he left you waiting on the cold city street for over ten minutes. You still can’t believe he was late. The audacity.
“I would’ve liked to see how you and your staff do your dinner service.”
“Unfortunately, we’re booked full for the next two months.”
You scoff — how doesn’t he know who you are? You’re a food critic who’s brought highly regarded restaurants to their knees through a review of five sentences. Your words alone has had rippled effects in the industry. Even the most talented chefs hold their breaths when you taste-test.
You make Gordon Ramsey look like Mother Teresa.
This Yoongi character is much too arrogant to not respect you. His new and upcoming restaurant might have raving reviews, but you’ll see what’s really going on.
“Sit wherever you’d like.”
There are no waiters in fancy garb, no hand sewn tablecloths made of silk. He doesn’t even pull out the chair for you. Instead, he’s off flickering on the lights of the restaurant while you choose a wooden table and chair right in front of his open kitchen — which is a horrible mistake in itself.
Open kitchens have always been a concept that has fallen short in your eyes. It’s much too noisy during dinner service and it gets smelly fast. Who actually wants to leave smelling like butter and oil?
It’s something you note as you get settled. 
Your coat drapes at the back of the chair and then you watch him. Yoongi’s taken off his trench as well, revealing a white long sleeve that he’s beginning to roll up to his elbows. He’s lean and his build is small, but somehow, he’s far from being scrawny. You gawk at the veins running up his forearm until he casually asks—
“Do you have a preference for wine?”
“I’m fine with any.”
He hums and comes over from the glass cabinet with a bottle of chardonnay and a wine glass. Yoongi pops the bottle easily and pours into the pristine glass with a mere tilt of his wrist. You watch the stream fill the glass a quarter way full.
“Is there a menu?”
“You don’t need one.”
Your brows raise. “Excuse me?” 
“If I were you, I’d put myself in the chef’s hands entirely and go with their recommendation.” He strides away, placing the wine bottle on the other table and then he turns with a glint in his eye and his mouth slightly crooked upwards. “Unless, of course, you don’t trust your chef.”
Oh. He’s confident. 
You can’t wait for his ego to blow up in his face.
“Fine then.” Your head tilts upwards. “What’s your recommendation then?”
He rounds his way to go into the kitchen that’s only a few meters away from where you sit. “Risotto with grilled chicken breast, topped off with caramelized onions, mushroom, grilled zucchini and sautéed tomatoes.”
You roll your eyes. What a basic dish. Isn’t it just rice? And with chicken breast?! Ew. It's guaranteed to be bland.
“Alright then.” You give a smile that might be more mocking than intended. “We’ll see how it tastes.”
Yoongi starts and while sipping the chardonnay, you take a good look at the restaurant from your spot. The place is rustic with a hint of contemporary. There’s exposed brick, wooden tables and chairs, and low, yellow lighting. There’s nothing particularly impressive about the place.
Soon, the sound of rapid, rhythmic chopping fills the space and then sizzling. You watch him intently. And you’re appalled. This Yoongi guy commits the worst cooking sins — his pan is cold when he starts throwing on ingredients. He cooks with olive oil. He overcrowds the pan. And he doesn’t even taste test once as he cooks.
What the actual fuck. 
There’s a line between arrogance and insanity, and he was crossing it.
You cringe when he starts using his metallic spatula on the non-stick skillet.
Is he even qualified to run a restaurant?!
Or maybe your assistant sent you information about the wrong restaurant? Or maybe this was not the guy you were supposed to be eating from. What if he poisons you or kills off all of your taste buds?! Your career would be ruined.
“Everything going okay?” you pipe up.
He glances up at you for the first time, eyes peering past his bangs. “Yep. Should be done in five.”
Food is simple. It either tastes good or it doesn’t. But the higher up you go and the fancier it gets, the more convoluted the food tastes with bland flakes of gold and the same old truffle shavings. That or it’s entirely boring and unoriginal. 
Or in this case, it might kill you. Which would be the first. And you’re not happy about it.
You feel unsettled when he plops the dish in front of you.
“Chef’s recommendation.”
“Thanks.”
You feel unsettled because it actually smells good. The aroma that fills your senses is flavoursome and buttery, and the thyme on top adds a fresh hint. You’re also unsettled because the plating isn’t actually bad. It’s been presented in a pasta bowl with wavy designs and the chicken breast is thinly and neatly sliced on top. It’s clean. It’s bright. It’s colourful.
But the most lethal poisons are the appetizing ones.
“Are you going to wait until it gets cold?”
You look up, brows raising at how he’s gotten comfortable in the chair across from you. Usually the chefs and waiters or waitresses like to skedaddle off and leave you to your own thoughts, too afraid to stand in your intense scrutiny. But Min Yoongi twists off the cap of his water bottle and casually downs it in front of you.
“I’m just looking at the presentation.”
“Tastes better than it looks,” he exhales after swallowing his water. 
Your expression becomes skeptical. But you take the silver spoon beside you anyhow and decide not to waste any more time.
The spoonful goes into your mouth. He watches you. You chew.
Instantly, you halt. 
The flavour hits your tongue. Creamy. Thick. But each individual grain of rice still has some firmness with a discernible texture. It’s been done al dente. There’s sweetness from the caramelized onions. An earthy flavour from the mushrooms. A zesty touch from the thyme. The chicken breast is somehow still juicy and the tomatoes burst on your palate. 
Suddenly, you’re thrusted back into your childhood. Those summer days spent in the cottage. Sun-kissed cheeks, dirtied knees, cotton dresses. You can hear your late grandmother in the kitchen. The way she calls out that it’s lunchtime. You can feel the comfort of family and love.
It feels like you’ve become the food critic in the ratatouille movie. 
You almost cry.
“What do you think?”
You clear your throat. You have to be honest. There’s no way you can lie about something like this. “It’s good. I think...this is the best risotto I’ve ever had. You cooked it perfectly and the toppings you chose were absolutely immaculate with this dish—”
You look up at him. Min Yoongi has an enormous, cocky smirk plastered across his stupid face.
It’s entirely off-putting. 
“But of course,” you quickly add, “there are many ways you could improve on it. You could add cilantro—”
“That would unnecessarily drown out the notes of thyme you taste,” he rebukes without a single beat and you scoff. 
“I noticed you didn’t add any pepper to it which could deepen the flavour.”
“Except this dish doesn’t need it,” Yoongi deadpans. “You don’t need to help me make any adjustments. I think I know what I’m doing better than you are. Just do your job and I’ll do mine.”
You suck in your cheek and narrow your eyes on him before you take another bite of the risotto while it’s still hot. “The food is delicious, but I must say, the company really spoils it.”
Yoongi’s slumped with one cheek resting in his hand, elbow on the table. He lazily stares at you with that smirk of his. “Really? Because if I didn’t know any better, you look nervous rather than annoyed.”
You scoff for the second time. “Why would I be nervous?”
“Maybe you didn’t expect the food to taste as good as it does and that makes me unexpectedly attractive,” he states plainly. You almost choke. You hit your chest as you sputter. “Or maybe you’re intimidated by me. I’ve gotten both before.”
You wipe your mouth with the napkin. “I’m afraid you’re not very perceptive, Min Yoongi.”
“Really? I think I am.” He smiles, the corners of his mouth quirked. “I’ve read your reviews before.”
You’re unamused. “Have you now? So you must know how difficult I am to satisfy.”
His smirk is sly and it’s jarring against his softer, more tender features. He’s smaller than the men you’re used to being around, but somehow it feels like he’s taken up the entire space of the restaurant. His focus on you is sweat-inducing. Even if you don’t want to admit it. 
“I don’t think so. You’ve just been eating shit food,” he says bluntly and your brow cocks. “You just need someone good you can trust. Someone who can take care of you properly.”
You’re not sure if the double entendre is purposeful. You wouldn’t put it past him.
“And is this someone you?”
Yoongi shrugs and sits back. “It could be.”
You grab your glass of chardonnay and gulp the rest in an effort to stop the conversation before it completely derails into a different direction. Yet, Yoongi’s half-lidded and darkened eyes stay on yours with each swallow. He’s unfazed. Unbothered. And that bothers you even more — bothered in a way that makes your face hot.
There’s a clack as you put the wine glass down and gasp. 
“I’m a professional.” You won’t be swayed so easily. “I can’t be bribed.”
“Of course.” He blinks as if he doesn’t know what you’re talking about. You glare at him and he gestures to the dish. “Please. Keep eating.” 
You finish the plate.
“Do you want any seconds?” he asks as he gets up.
“I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?” Yoongi lingers, all too brazen and fearless. “If you don’t get any more now, you might have to come back for more.”
This time, you don’t try to hide the roll of your eyes. “That’s a presumptuous assumption.”
Yoongi smirks and his voice is husky. “After getting a taste from me, everyone comes back for more.
You scoff.
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Min’s Restaurant Review
Three nights ago, I ate at Min’s Restaurant and met the main man in the kitchen. Unfortunately, he is a difficult person to interact with. I hope no one has the disservice of having to speak to the chef behind the dishes. Doing so may as well ruin the experience. Furthermore, his cooking methods are unconventional and unorthodox. It was completely shocking to watch.
However, and what I would consider most important, the food at Min’s Restaurant is spectacular. What Min’s Restaurant lacks in likeable personnel, they make up in the served cuisine. The meal that was prepared for me not only subverted my initial expectations, but overcomes, what I consider, what the food industry is lacking in this modern age exactly. Without unnecessary garnishes and ingredients, the flavours of Min’s Restaurant are both light and deep. It was an undeniable delight to consume and for the first time, I licked my plate clean. 
It is undoubted that the man behind Min’s Restaurant has the hands of god.
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You should have pride.
But you’ve always loved good food. It’s your Achilles heel. It’s the one thing you’ve been passionate about since you were a kid. The reason why you love your job.
Even after writing such a review, you find yourself booking another reservation. But as a customer instead of a critic.
Of course, they were booked full for the next six months, largely thanks to your review, and they swiftly refused you with numerous apologies. But they called back not ten minutes later. You have a feeling that your name finally sunk into them — that he had something to do with it. 
That theory is confirmed when you arrive. The person in question is next to the seemingly nervous hostess as the noisy kitchen echoes throughout the busy restaurant. 
In the low lighting, Min Yoongi stands there with a relaxed smirk. As if he was expecting you. As if he knew you’d come crawling back to him to eat out of the palm of his hand, literally and figuratively.
You hate that he’s right.
“Welcome back.”
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handibrain · 3 years
Text
Hello Madness Combat community i have brought you some 2BHank angst for you :)
Title: I need a doctor
Type: lyric fic(I need a doctor by Jack Stauber)
Genre: hurt to comfort then back to hurt
Warnings: death mention, major character death, injuries, past abuse mention(not from Doc or Hank to each other)
Hank had once again gone on another raid, and once again got injured. It wasn’t unusual for him by any means, but this time it wasn’t something he could patch up himself. Unfortunately he also didn’t leave any of the doctors alive so he couldn’t even attempt to get help from them. He would doubt they would even agree, but that’s not the point.
All he was left to do was bleed out on the floor until he died from blood loss, starvation or dehydration, or if backup was sent and he was killed. To the agency, this was great. To him, this was one of the worst ways to go.
I need a doctor, oh!
He heard footsteps approach, not ones like a lone agent though. He was tired too, he wouldn’t fight even if it was one.
“Well look at that, Number One Killer/criminal of Nevada on the brink of death, eh?” The voice said. It was scratchy and worn, and it had sounded muffled, like it was from behind a mask. He heard the person say something else, but couldn’t make it out. He felt himself get picked up before he went unconscious from the blood loss.
I’m not a doctor but I think I might be able to help.
And well, it had been a few months since that last encounter and they had formed a bond. Hank would raid agency buildings for supplies, and Doc would patch him up the best he could.
Something was eating away at Doc though, about how Hank acted towards physical contact even if it was meant to be caring. He has seen Hank fight and didn’t take much mind to the contact during then, but whenever Doc made any contact with Hank they would either stiffen up, flinch away, or after a bit get overstimulated and have to go to another room for a bit before continuing what they were doing before.
“Why do you act that way when I touch you?” Doc asked when Hank once again flinched when he checked Hank’s ribs to double check none were broken.
It’s not a simple symptom, no.
“Nothing.” Hank replied, gruffly. Doc could tell there was dread behind it, like he was afraid to answer the question.
“Did.. Did someone hurt you?” Doc asked, which caused a very slight but noticeable reaction from Hank, a negative one at that. Doc both hated and enjoyed how Hank didn’t mistake that question as the everyday ��agent and/or killer clown’ someone hurting him.
My diagnosis is that no one has been treating you well.
Doc took a steady deep breath before continuing.
“Hank, I want you to know that I am always open if you need to talk. I know I act like I don’t care, but really I do. Remember that I'm here for you, ok?” Doc said, wrapping up his examination and cleaning up the last few minor wounds on Hank. There was no response from Hank, which Doc expected.
So what do you prescribe?
As Hank went to leave, he stopped before he left the office infirmary.
Love’s the only medicine.
“Doc, thank you.” He said, an unusual calmness on his face underneath the wrappings and goggles. He said something else at the end, to which Doc heard but couldn’t make out.
Doc sighed and smiled.
Is this a lie?
“No problem, Hank. Also, what did you say at the end?” Doc asked.
“I..,” Hank took a shaky breath before continuing,”I love you, Doc.”
“I love you too, idiot.” Doc said, a wide smile on his face now.
No! Take three of these a da-ay!
“Alright. Just don’t get yourself killed, ok? And if you need any medications you know where they are.” Doc chuckled, covering half of his now blush red face with his hand and waving Hank off with the other, which got a laugh out of Hank.
“Thanks, and I’ll try!” Hank said, before walking out the door and probably off to another raid in a couple of hours.
Jebus, that smile made Hank’s heart flutter. He kept recalling that memory, he wished he had the guts to confess earlier. Past experiences made it hard for him, even if he knew he could trust Doc. He was glad he did nonetheless.
Oh, I think I’m cured.
Finally, he felt the same happiness he did before all of his madness, and he was glad for that. He went out to do a small raid to celebrate, not noticing the AAHW vehicles a distance away.
Cool, are you alright on your own?
When he got back, he wasn’t greeted with the usual shout of acknowledgment from Doc. This instantly made him worry and panic.
‘What happened?’ He thought, quickly making their way to Doc’s office.
No, I’m not sure.
As they entered Doc’s office he saw his dead body on the floor, with most of the desk belongings strewn across the floor as well. His laptop sat shattered as well, the screen just holding together enough to show one message still left in the typing bar.
“Hank, I need help ge” it read, before being cut off. He could only assume he ran out of time to write for backup before the agents entered his office.
Okay..
Hank dropped to his knees, checking for a heartbeat or breathing. Neither of which were found. Grief, anger, and deep sadness wracked through his body and he let out broken sobs. The first time he felt this way since his last relationship, feeling worse that this was probably the first and last person to truly care about them.
Oh! I think I’m sick again…
Author's note:
I usually look for criticism on my writing works but for this one I'm not just because I lost steam halfway through editing but decided it was good enough with where I left it. I definitely could do multiple things to fix it and flesh it out though so I may rewrite it in the coming months. By all means feel free to use this as a baseline for your own story though!(with credit of course) I would love to see what you come up with :)
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the-gay-prometheus · 3 years
Text
Frankenstein AU Segment: “Always You”
I promised some gay shit today so have some gay shit.
Warning: it is extremely gay, I think.
This lil segment is Henry and Victor being silly and dumb and not realizing until just now that they are desperately in love with each other, and I think that is very gay of them.
Anyways actual little mini warning for this one: Victor refers to his assigned gender at birth and also mentions his deadname at one point in this segment. I know for some trans folks, reading things where a trans person makes a reference to their AGAB and/or their deadname it can be triggering, hence why I’m making this warning just to be on the safe side. The entirety of this segment is genuinely wholesome though, so no other warnings needed to my knowledge.
On a completely different and random note, “In A Week” by Hozier is officially Victor and Henry’s love song, and no I will not be accepting constructive criticism on that.
As always, likes, reblogs, and comments of any kind are greatly appreciated!
~~~
The peaceful song of crickets chirping was interrupted only by the occasional trilling call of a boreal owl which seemed to echo across the cliffs and peaks. Above the gnarled branches and wispy needles of the pines the moonless sky was illuminated by uninterrupted glimmering starlight. Victor and Henry lay atop a massive boulder they had climbed in the midst of the woods, savoring the moment alone together as they stared up through the canopy above into the shimmering heavens, each with their hands folded over their chests. Though Henry was entirely still, Victor tapped his fingers against the back of his other hand as he picked through the millions of thoughts racing through his head. “You shouldn’t stay,” he mentioned suddenly. Henry glanced over at him. After a long pause, Victor continued. “I mean you shouldn’t stay here. You’ve… you’ve got your whole life ahead of you.”
“So do you,” Henry answered, turning onto his side and resting his elbow on the stone and his head on his palm. Victor turned to look at him.
“No, not really. I made my choice, Henry. I made a mistake, and this is my burden to bear - not yours. You shouldn’t be throwing your life away for my sake.”
“Victor - you know I’ve always got your back,” Henry replied, giving him a comforting smile. “I really don’t mind it.”
“I know that but… it’s not fair to you.” Victor rested his head back and stared up to the  sky, and Henry laid back to do the same. “You should be finishing your studies at Ingolstadt, or traveling the world, or finding some beautiful woman to settle down with.” Henry tensed as he spoke, but didn’t answer. “I’m thankful that you’re here with me, and it really has been wonderful and I can never repay you for how much you’ve helped but… it kills me to think I might be causing you to miss out on all the things you wanted in life.” There was a long moment of silence between them, and Victor began to grow restless, tapping his fingers against the back of his hand again. “Do you… not agree?” Henry tensed more, then let out a sharp exhale.
“Can I tell you a secret?” Victor blinked, then turned on to his side and sat up slightly.
“Of course!” he exclaimed. “It’s… not like I really have anyone to divulge it to other than… well… you know who. And he certainly doesn’t have anyone to divulge it to.” Henry gave him a half smile, then turned his hazel eyes back to the sky.
“Victor I… I have-” He hesitated. “I’m… I mean I- I’m-” He pinched at the bridge of his nose, then dropped his arms to his sides. “I have no interest in women.” Victor glanced over at him, then lay back down and returned his own gaze to the stars.
“Oh.” Henry cringed, expecting some kind of other reply, but relaxed slightly as Victor spoke again. “Well… that’s fine. You still shouldn’t stay. I know you always wanted to finish your studies and travel the world at least. I don’t want to hold you back.” Henry swallowed hard and clenched his eyes shut.
“That’s not what I mean Victor.”
“Then what did you mean?” he asked, glancing back over at him.
“I… I have no interest in women because I-” Henry hesitated again. “My only interest lies in… other men. It… it always has.” Victor looked upward once again.
“Ah.” His eyes widened. “Oh!” Henry cringed at this response. He wasn’t sure why he was so afraid but… part of him was terrified. Victor suddenly sat up, a look of revelation on his face. “That’s a possibility?” Henry’s eyes snapped open and he looked up at him.
“You say that like you didn’t know.”
“Well- how was I supposed to know? It’s not like I’ve ever... seen it before.” Henry gave him an odd look.
“...What about Percy and Alex?”
“Who?”
“Back in Ingolstadt? Your classmates? You can’t tell me you didn’t know. It was obvious! Not… that they were necessarily public about it, and for good reason, but the way they looked at each other and talked to each other, there was no way they were anything less than lovers.” Victor frowned and glanced over at him.
“You assume I paid any attention to my classmates.” Henry blinked.
“...Oh. Yes that… that’s certainly a good point.” He shook his head. “Regardless! Why… why wouldn’t it be possible? If a man can love a woman, why can’t he love another man?” Victor thought for a moment.
“Well this… this changes everything,” he muttered, eyes still wide. Henry glanced away, suddenly worried again.
“...How so?”
“Well - it means I’m… I’m not broken!” Victor exclaimed, suddenly grinning. Henry snapped his gaze over to him.
“What?” Victor turned, sitting fully upright with his legs crossed and his fingers tapping excitedly on his thighs.
“Henry. After all I’ve done, after everything I’ve made of myself, after all the changes, there was one thing that always continued to irk me. I have changed my name, altered my body, filled myself with the correct chemicals, and yet despite all of that, one thing never changed. Even though I had finally become the person I knew I needed to be, I still was attracted to men!” Henry’s own eyes grew wide. “I had simply chalked it up to being some sort of strange flaw, that maybe I hadn’t perfected myself enough, that I hadn’t entirely rid myself of my… my…” He hesitated, as though he didn’t want to say it. “My womanhood - but no! Perhaps it has nothing to do with my sex!” Henry couldn’t help but chuckle at that statement.
“You really thought your attraction was tied to your sex?” Victor shrugged, then nodded, prompting another quiet laugh from Henry. “Victor, have I ever mentioned you are by far the most intelligent imbecile I know?” Victor smirked.
“Not in those words exactly, but something akin to that, yes.” 
“Victor Frankenstein, ladies and gentleman, brilliant scientist capable of creating life from death, entirely incapable of understanding human attraction,” Henry announced sarcastically, throwing his arms wide as he spoke with a big grin. Victor snickered and batted his hand away.
“Oh hush, Henry, the poet who couldn’t figure out the difference between a daisy and a dandelion,” he mused in return. Henry sat up.
“Hey! I know the difference! I just… got the names confused!” he exclaimed. Victor laughed, and flopped back onto his back, Henry laying back down beside him.
“Sure you did,” Victor retorted with sarcasm, glancing over at him. The two regained their composure as their giggles faded back to quiet smiles, though Victor’s smile quickly faded. He let out a sigh. “Well… regardless, Henry. You really should go. Go study, go explore, go find a kind man to settle down with. Live the life I’ll never get to have.” Henry’s own smile faded as his mind suddenly raced, trying to think of how to respond. “I’ll be ok here on my own. I promise.”
“But… Victor I-” Henry’s heart began to pound in his chest. Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t say it, he repeated in his mind as his pulse quickened. Despite the repetition, though, he glanced back over to Victor. His breath caught in his throat. “I’ve already done those things.” Victor looked over at him, confused, his own heart seeming to skip a beat.
“...What do you mean?”
“Well… I’ve travelled - maybe not around the world, but I traveled to Ingolstadt. I may not have finished my studies but I certainly came close enough. And…” He turned his face away. “I’ve… I’ve already found a kind man to settle down with.” Victor felt his heart shatter in his chest upon hearing those words, and he turned away.
“...I see,” he muttered dejectedly. “Then you should go to him. Go to him and live your life with joy.” Henry looked back over at him, feeling terror clawing at his chest as he mulled over whether he should or shouldn’t reveal himself.
“You… you don’t understand Victor.” Victor turned back toward him, his own eyes already starting to fill with tears of worry. “It’s… it’s you. It’s always been you.” Victor blinked away his tears, his eyes widening as he suddenly felt as though his heart stopped. He was frozen - stunned - and his face turned bright red as he blushed. Henry, seeing this reaction, grew tense and turned away. “I’m sorry- I’m so sorry I- I didn’t mean to make things strange between us. I shouldn’t have said anyth-” He was cut off as suddenly he felt Victor’s fingers upon his cheek, gently coaxing him to return his gaze to him.
“Henry I… I misspoke,” Victor whispered softly. Henry clenched his eyes shut, fearing the worst. “When I said I was attracted to men, what I should have said was… I am attracted to a man.” He hesitated as Henry slowly opened his eyes. “It was always you, Henry. Always.” For a moment the two stared deep into each other's eyes, their fears falling away as they finally began to realize the intensity of the connection between them, until Victor suddenly pulled back and gave Henry an odd look. “Wait. No- no. You’re lying. You have to be lying.” Henry’s eyes widened with shock.
“I- Victor I just bared my soul to you. Do you genuinely think I would lie about something like that?”
“Well… no. But it makes no sense. If you always knew you were interested solely in men, then how could you have always been interested in me? Good god Henry, when we first met I wasn’t even Victor, I was Emily Frankenstein, the strange girl who refused to wear a dress and practiced needlepoint while sitting out in the mud!” Henry’s shock dissolved into a short huff of laughter at the memory of seeing that younger, drastically different version of his boyhood crush, with long, frizzy dark brown hair (a far cry to his now short and messily cut hair) sitting in the mud by the lake wearing boys’ clothing while intently working on an embroidery that read ‘Alchemy is Relevant’ with the symbol for the philosopher’s stone above it - young Victor’s way of spiting his father.
“You know how you thought you were flawed because somehow despite everything you still felt attraction toward men?” Henry asked. He paused, then smiled. “Attraction to me, I guess.” Victor frowned slightly.
“Yes?”
“Well… that’s how I felt when I first met you. It was so bizarre to me. Up until that point, I had never understood the other boys my age, all pining over young girls while I was admiring which of them was the most handsome. And then I met you, and even though I was so sure of myself and who I was, you turned it all on its head. For the first time I wasn’t just admiring, I was fully, deeply enthralled by someone. I simply chalked it up to the fact that, perhaps this just meant I finally found the right girl, like my father always said I would, and that maybe everything I thought I knew was wrong. And yet… I continued to find myself admiring only other boys my age, and no other girls. I was so deeply conflicted - until that day years later when you returned after having run away and confided in me that you had come to realize you were never meant to be a girl at all,” he explained. Victor’s expression softened.
“So… what you’re saying is… you… you knew all along? Before I was even aware of my own identity?” Henry thought for a moment, then smiled.
“Come to think of it, I suppose maybe I did! I’ve… never really thought of it like that before.” Victor stared at him for a moment, then lay back again, smiling brightly. Henry smiled back at him, and lay beside him again - though moving a bit closer this time.
“Then I suppose we were never broken after all,” Victor remarked. “All this time, we knew each other far better than we ever realized. I’ve never much believed in soul mates, but… considering this evidence, I’m almost considering rethinking my stance on that,” he concluded half jokingly. 
“You jest, but… you have to admit it might have some merit,” Henry pointed out as he stared calmly up at the sky. “How truly remarkable that the stars should align for us to meet, that the strings of fate should tie us together so neatly and that we should lead each other, even if unknowingly, into the light that is living our truths. We may have no evidence for the existence of some higher power, but there is proof that the world works in mysterious and wonderful ways that even science cannot define. Our very existence is such a specific rarity, a mere blip on the scale of time, and somehow here we are, together, here, now.” Victor turned on his side, lifting himself up slightly as he stared in awe and admiration as Henry spoke. “We are miracles, Victor, common miracles yet miracles all the same. There is so much we have to learn and to discover about the world and about ourselves, and how brilliant it is that we should have the chance to do so together, and to lift each other up to be the very best versions of ourselves that we can be. We-” He suddenly was cut off as Victor was suddenly leaning over him, propping himself on one hand that rested on Henry’s other side, his light brown eyes staring down into his hazel ones with a gaze of pure wonder. He shuddered, his heart suddenly fluttering in his chest as he looked up at him, and he gasped softly as Victor placed his unoccupied hand onto his cheek and brushed a long strand of ginger hair away from his eyes.
“Is it too early?” Victor inquired in a quiet whisper. Henry pressed his face into Victor’s hand.
“Too early for what?” Victor hesitated.
“Is it too early to say I... I-” Henry grinned, breathing deeply and slowly shaking his head as he lifted a hand and placed it on Victor’s cheek.
“I love you too,” he murmured. They stayed frozen for a moment, silence returning between them as the creatures of the night continued to sing their songs and the trees creaked softly in the breeze. As they searched each other’s eyes for some unspoken answer to some unheard question, it was Victor who suddenly leaned down, his pulse racing as his lips locked with Henry’s. At first Henry’s eyes widened, but his eyelids fluttered closed as he lifted his hand higher and gently gripped Victor’s short, messy brown hair between his fingers, softly pulling him in closer. Though it only lasted a moment, it felt like a blissful eternity before they slowly broke away, both of them shaking with the joy and excitement of it all. As Victor lay back on his side, he wrapped his arm around Henry tightly, and Henry moved closer, wrapping his own arm around him. They lay contentedly in each other's embrace, silently staring at one another as though there was nothing else in the world they’d rather see than each other’s eyes. That was, until, a sudden cry from just outside the forest jolted them both upright. Victor let out a soft sigh, and slowly started to rise to his feet.
“I’ll be back,” he muttered disappointedly. Henry gave a sympathetic smile as he stood as well.
“No, I’ll come with you.” Victor hesitated a moment before descending the boulder and landing on the ground with a soft thud, Henry following close behind.
“You don’t have to. I’m sure it’ll only be a moment,” he mentioned. Henry took his hand and squeezed it tightly.
“And I don’t want to lose a single moment to spend with you,” he murmured, leaning forward and tenderly kissing Victor’s cheek. Victor blushed and smiled sheepishly.
“If you insist-” He was cut off by the sound of a sudden loud sob. “Come on. It sounds like one hell of a nightmare,” he mentioned as he began to lead the way back to their cabin home.
“Sometimes I think you make a surprisingly good father, despite everything between the two of you,” Henry mentioned as they exited the trees. Victor gave a contented sigh as they came upon the dwelling and he reached for the door.
“You really think so?” he asked quietly as they walked in and continued toward where they could hear his creation now quietly crying inside. “Well… at least I won’t have to do it alone now.” He paused just outside the door to the creature’s room, looking back at Henry. “You will stay, won’t you?” Henry chuckled softly, gripping Victor’s hand tighter.
“Oh, Victor,” he murmured, leaning forward and resting his forehead against his. “From the day I first got here, I never wanted to leave.”
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Could you do Fort Max and First Aid for the oxygen loss?
Seriosuly loving it, angst and comfort/fluff is the best combination lmao
It is the best combination and those are two of the best boys so I am ON IT! Fort Max is in part eight listed below, but here's First Aid!
Part One: Here!
Part Two: Here!
Part Three: Here!
Part Four: Here!
Part Five: Here!
Part Six: Here!
Part Seven: Here!
Part Eight: Here!
Part Nine: Here!
Part Ten: Here!
Part Eleven: You're Here!
Part Twelve: Here!
First Aid
·Ever one for new experiences, he'd been quite enthusiastic to have a human join the crew, and perhaps it was his penchant for thoroughly appreciating every unknown he came across that had led to your fast paced courtship. The bot had simply demonstrated an almost overwhelming fascination towards you from day one, and in short time the connection between the two of you had been discovered through his efforts. Now you were nearly inseparable. Off days and breaks are always used for bonding, and today is no exception. Atop his lap as he sits comfortably, you happily listen to his enthusiastic and commentary filled reading of a Wrecker's Declassified, loving how he has the most obvious and adorable starstruck look while doing so. You could listen all day just to see his schoolboy crush play out before you.
·For him, having someone who listens and values his opinions without hesitation is enough to get his spark humming. He's rather accustomed to being passed over for bots with more experience and fame, so seeing your eyes focused on him with such rapt attention is... well, it's just nice. Finding you exceptionally adorable doesn't make it any less sweet. Being human also means a great deal of his favorite topics are new to you, so he gets to introduce you to all the wonders of the Wreckers, something that he loves every moment of. It's also not unpleasant to have your tiny body close to his, practically snuggling against him... Cuddling is something more or less new to him as well, so having it at all is yet another wonder you've brought to his life. There's a vague hope in the back of his processor that he'll be brave enough to suggest sharing a berth someday, just for a nice nap together, as he's not yet been brave enough to ask such a thing of you.
·Unfortunately, the universe has very little respect for his plans. Accustomed to interruptions as an always on call medic, he can't help but be a little frustrated when Ratchet starts comming him out of the blue, but he knows better than to show it. Something serious must be going on if their CMO needs assistance. Still in your partner's lap, you watch as he answers the communication, quite used to sudden messages like this pulling him away. It's a part of dating a medic; but nothing about this seems standard. First Aid shifts his expression to one of concern as the voice comes through the comm in broken static, though he's experienced enough to put together what little there is. A warning of failing systems gets him moving on instinct, his arms scooping you up as he moves to stand, and the instructions to head to his emergency stations is almost unnecessary when the line goes dead.
·You're surprised but not offput by the sudden change in your position, if only because being swept into his arms is... very nice. That doesn't prevent you from knowing something is off though, and thankfully he is just as aware of you as he is his responsibilities as a medic, more so of you to tell the truth... A calm visor reflects your face as he lifts you close to relay the situation. Something is wrong with the ship, he explains, and it's bad enough that Ratchet made a preemptive call for medical bots to get moving. That means he needs to get to the medical bay, and before you can ask he brings up the possibility of you coming with him. Worry is just perceptible on his face as he hesitantly expresses that having you there would be safer, and thus he'd feel better... The bashful look is so cute you momentarily forget the danger to give him a reassuring kiss on his faceplate while accepting the proposition.
·Ignoring the stars you make him see with a tiny smooch, he gets right to work, securing you in one arm and ensuring his room is locked before heading out. He can't help but feel protective as he does so, almost like your guard against the threat that feels omnipresent in every hallway. You feel the same, and he can tell by how you hold him tighter in his grasp, something that stirs his spark with almost overpowering affection. It's enough to make him certain he'd fight like a Phase Sixer to protect you... For your part, a similiar drive to keep him safe is present, despite the difference in size between you. Hopefully you help him feel a little more secure as the two of you move through the eerily quiet hallways.
·The protective instincts First Aid has honed in his career as a medic give him a half second warning that danger is inbound, but all he is able to do in that time is curl around you protectively when the world seems to shake itself asunder. Hard floors meet his back in a painful rush, and you're similiarly jostled against him, though thankfully the worst of the blow is softened by his reflexive brace for impact. Tremors continue to rock the ship once you both realize you're on the ground, but a great cacophony of noise fails to die down when the shaking does. It's not a noise you've ever heard before; though you can compare it to metal being torn, the echoing and overbearing sound is at a scale you can't even comprehend.
·First Aid, having a natural coolness under pressure, is able to collect himself even as the situation continues evolving. The alarm begins to go off as he gets himself off the floor, and he notes that had it not the entire crew would probably still be mobilizing. There was no way anybot didn't feel what he just happened to be a front row spectator towards. While being on a ship of soldiers meant backup would soon be available, he had a few concerns that just couldn't wait for the guards to be scrambled. With one path to the medical bay now inaccessible, and you being so vulnerable, he needs to get somewhere safe to plan. He holds you close as the first open room becomes a makeshift shelter.
·Still reeling from the shock of everything, you find yourself atop a table in one of the Lost Light's many maintenance rooms, watching as First Aid attaches a portable operating flashlight to his helm. Before you can ask a single question the light is covering your body as he looks you over, asking for clarification on your basic functions while checking for injuries at the same time. Only when he's satisfied you're stable does the opportunity for speech present itself. Half expecting another massive tremor to hit at any moment, you ask what on earth made the ship move and sound like it had hit a Titan sized can opener, and his visor darkens with worry. You take hold of his hand to reassure and encourage him.
·The explanation is a bit rushed, but understandable; the ship has been ambushed, no doubt the enemy is preparing to board through the makeshift docking station they just created, and enemies will soon flood in... Also, most of the ship's systems appear to be offline. It's bad enough news that you feel suddenly woozy and need to sit back on your little table. Seeing you afraid drives First Aid into action, his processor working overtime to formulate a plan that will get you to safety, though admittedly the situation is a tough one. It's only when he takes proper stock of his surroundings and notes the monitor station that an idea takes shape.
·Intent on finding a clear path, he lays out his plan as he starts typing, explaining his thought process as he hacks into the virus addled program to get what he needs. Though you find solace in his confidence, the surprise from before is still wearing you down. Exhaustion seems to be the only thing you can truly comprehend... First Aid breaks through the enemy programs holding information back, but his victory proves short lived when the many systems start showing their current status, and his triumph turns to horror at one in particular. Critical to your survival, the atmospheric generators are among the malfunctioning systems. Oxygen levels are dropping by the minute. Without a word, he turns on the spot and begins looking you over again, earning a cry of surprise as he scoops you up.
·Alarmed and confused, you haven't a clue what might have spurred the usually in control bot to act so rashly, and have to sputter out the question when your clouded head fails to settle. Something like an explanation pours out of him, but there's very little you understand due to an increasingly sluggish mind. The growing exhaustion alarms him further. There's precious little time before you reach critical levels of oxygen deprivation, and the hypoxia has already rid you of the ability to process the situation... An ache in his spark is joined by one in his head as he tries to formulate a plan, and when he is left with only a long shot, he's forced to take it for your sake. There's a shake in his hands as he cannibalizes the room for parts, throwing together a makeshift air scrubber that will generate just enough breathable oxygen to get you to the medical bay. You smile as you watch him make it, suddenly too tired to stay awake but wanting to watch him craft, if only because his ingenuity is one of your favorite traits. The pleasant haze is still there even as he lifts you again to bring a makeshift oxygen mask to your face and begin running.
·All he can really do is hope, but there's precious little optimism in his spark as he makes the journey to the medical bay in a blind run, not running into enemies by sheer luck. The countless mistakes he's made so far are all that exist beyond your terrifyingly expressionless face. It's distracting enough that he's surprised when the team of Autobots appears from nowhere, particularly as Ratchet is amongst them, but before the CMO can say a word First Aid is pleading with the more experienced medic for help. He feels like a student on their first bad rotation in a hospital ward, facing the possibility of death for the first time, only a million times more agonized because you're on the line. The older bot is mercifully understanding as he gently takes you and guides him back to the medical bay, where he enters a fog and settles in to his job without conscious thought. He sees everything; Ratchet stabilizes you with proper equipment, wounded bots start to come in with news the battle is over, the systems maintaining the ship all come completely online... None of it registers.
·All he can think of is how he failed. The machine he built could have been more effective, he should have predicted oxygen issues from the start, and had he not been distracting you with his foolish interests to begin with... It physically hurts, but he doesn't allow himself even a moment of reprieve from the self admonishment, and dedicates himself entirely to your wellbeing. Every tiny facet of your recovery is microanalyzed, down to the thousandth of a percent. He won't risk losing you to more of his mistakes. It's bad enough that he doesn't permit joy to show on his face when you finally begin to stir, not even cracking a smile when your beautiful eyes finally blink open and you look into his visor. Your own expression, however, immediately shifts to one of exhausted but emphatic relief. Seeing the bot you love alive after the chaos you remember enduring is more than you could have asked for.
·He can't help but be incredibly gentle as he asks how you feel, his affection too strong to ever suppress in its entirety. But you can see the struggle in his actions, having become so accustomed to his presence that the out of character reservation is as obvious to you as a fireworks display, so you quickly ask if he's okay after everything that happened. The innocent question actually makes him flinch. Not a moment later he breaks and loses the calm air of a medic, collapsing into a nearby chair to confess that your injuries are his fault, caused by a myriad of failures he can't reconcile. Head in his hands, he's caught off guard when you make an effort to move from your little bundle of blankets and tubes keeping you stable.
·Before he can say a word to stop you, he is silenced by a little hand taking hold of his digit, and though the mask is firmly fitted you still speak loud and clear enough for him to hear the firmness in your voice. As lovingly as you can, you insist that he stop what he's doing. Loving him is worth any risk, but because he's as resourceful and brilliant as he is, you had made it through a situation most wouldn't have survived. The rest of the universe may not always see his worth, but you do every time you see him. Growing dizzy from the force of your conviction, you're gently shushed and encouraged to lie back, yet to your exhausted delight First Aid appears anything but pained as he works. Adjusting your blankets and tenderly ensuring your comfort, he doesn't need to say thank you through anything but his actions. As always, you've brought him back down from that exhausting despair he grappled with so often in the past. After all, he must be capable indeed to have earned the love of someone so wonderful and unique. The least he can do is show his gratitude in a gentle brush of his thumb over your palm as you drift back to sleep.
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