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detective-keen · 4 years

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ZzzZzz Flop - Agatha & Lucas

Where : Some city in the sky / Agatha’ s mind When : Last night Who : @lucastheunlucky & yours truly @detective-keen

What: Agatha & Lucas share a few thoughts in Agatha’s mind.

Agatha sat on a bench, a book in her lap. She watched as a zeppelin passed, high above her, her hand toying with a pleat in her skirt. The hem grazed the paved floor, dancing above it as she stood up. A stray strand of her hair fell on her shoulder, and she placed it back in her Gibson updo, as she made her way toward the city hall. She was not sure why she was drawn toward it, but this was where her steps where taking her. She passed by a statue of a man with one arm, and if she could feel her guts twist as she turned her back on it, she assumed that this only meant one thing : she was hungry.

The woman stopped at the bakery to buy a raisin viennoiserie, but the feeling in her guts did not go. From the corner of her eye, she had caught it, once again, this shadow of a person. This was not the first time she saw it. She couldn’t place where she had seen it before, but she knew this was not the first time she was seeing it, and that was a fact. “You,” she exclaimed, ignoring bypassers turning to look at her, clearly disapproving. Unfortunately, the shadow was gone, once again. She searched around her, and found herself tumbling forward. When she stood up, the town in the sky had vanished, and she was getting into a car, with the man from the statue. The one armed man. This does not make anysense, she rubbed at her eyes and sighed with relief as she found herself, once again, in what she thought was her reality. A lively town in the sky, with zeppelins and joyful people passing by.

Lucas kept feeling like these passing people should have faces. They blurred in and out of focus, taking on people he saw once or twice when he had been in the precinct when he was arrested by Officer Roland. Everything in him wanted to push that memory from his mind in well practiced denial and survival. Someone snickered from his left shoulder and he looked over and two people dressed in pleated skirts with police badges hanging loosely on their neck. They were talking behind their covered mouths, eyes darting towards him briefly before they turned slightly to keep talking to themselves. He felt a hint of despair, knowing they were bad talking him, no, someone else. But that emotion burned away as did the environment when a statue in the distance rose up. His heart pounded, but someone on the streets handed him a cold drink and it was warm this high in the sky. He sipped it, noticing it was a milkshake that he hadn’t been able to enjoy with Nic before his attack. “Do you want one?” He asked the person next to him, now having two in his hands. “Drink it quick though. Something bad might happen.”

Drink it quick though. Something bad might happen. The voice sounded familiar, and Agatha immediately found herself tearing up. She had not heard this voice in years, and she thought that she had forgotten the sound it, but no, the moment she heard it, she knew who it belonged to, she knew she had to find him, and to find him, her mind told her that she had to run across these people. That someone in the crowd, somewhere, was her father. Perhaps she dreamt of him because for months, she had hoped that he had gone missing, disappeared, and that the few bits of him they found were proof that he managed to run away, but that Agatha grew out of that quick, coming to term with the terrible mistake he had done, the deaths he had caused. Still, she ran, bumping into people, hoping to catch the messy salt and pepper head of hair her father used to sport. Her chase came to an abrupt halt as she ran headfirst into a man, spilling milkshake on her formerly spotless, wrinkle free blouse, and gasped in horror. “Can’t you be more careful?!” The nerve. She knew damn well she was responsible, but she was pissed off. Not paying too much attention to poor Lucas, she looked around, searching again. Come on, where are you dad? Show yourself, please, she begged, her hand pinching at her nostrils as she felt tears running down her cheeks.

Lucas watched the milkshake explode in his hands, and he glanced almost eerily calm over as a crossbow bolt exploded the other one and sent it flying into the clouds. “Told you something bad would happen,” as the chill of the ice cream stung his hands, his eyes were a bright, molten ring of gold. Wolfish features gave his bone structure higher peaks, and sharper lines down his jaw. The scent of tears drew his gaze towards Nic who lost his milkshake. Would he cry over it? Luke felt sad about losing the milkshake again too, but it was strange seeing the man tear up. He looked towards the truck that pulled up, seeing men pile out of it, and glanced over to see a woman instead. “Hey, this place is dangerous, you better duck behind something,” Lucas warned, cracking his knuckles ready to fight, “I’m not letting these people get hurt.”

“What?” Agatha looked over her shoulder, looking both offended and disbelieving. “Bitch, I’m no damsel in distress.” The truck that had just arrived looked completely out of place, in the middle of all this late 19th century streets. Her hand instinctively went to her right side, where she usually had her gun holstered, but all she could feel under her finger was the wet fabric and her ribcage. “Shit.” Running out of the street into a home that wasn’t hers, she went straight to where her dream took her, and when she walked out back in the street, next to Mr. Saviour, it was with a loaded blunderbuss in her hands. “Who the fuck are these people,” she asked, taking cover behind a wall.

The city in the sky shuttered, the clouds disjointed into a starry sky then back again like a pixelated rendering. Lucas’ brow twitched, and he frowned as an overwhelming feeling surfaced that he did not want to go through this again. “No, wait-- this isn’t-- right,” he watched her come back with a weapon and with her motions a dense cloud blew in easily, shrouding the place for a second as the truck was suddenly dented and half destroyed when he looked at it. Lucas stood in the middle exposed when she asked. “Hired muscle,” he muttered, “fuck.” He subconsciously tried with all his might to change this, but he could only see a crowd of people happily milling about like there wasn’t any danger. No one else here was reacting to what they were seeing and it was disjointing. “I hate this--” A ring of darkness came out in the far distance and started moving and consuming the happily and peaceful place in a slow threatening crawl. His fists closed tightly. “I have to stop this, all of it. Where are we?”

“Well, no shit Sherlock,” Agatha spat, clearly unsatisfied with that answer. “Who the fuck hired these guys,” standing up, she aimed and shot one of said guys in the leg. It was hard to get information out of dead men after all. Squatting down, she loaded the blunderbuss again, a frown on her face as she watched people around them walk by as if everything was fine. What the fuck, she thought, standing up again to shoot another of these guys. That would be when she saw this dark, weirdly circular cloud coming their way. “Looks like we have a storm coming right our way,” a frown on her face, she took a step back, carefully. “And how exactly are you going to stop … this?” She motioned to what she referred to as clouds. “Where are we? Are you…” She stopped mid-sentence. Where were they? She had no idea. And yet, she knew this place. She felt as if she had spent hours in this city in the sky. “Fuck, I don’t know.”

“Ivor Gotch,” Lucas couldn’t stopped himself from finishing the answer, stress was making his hands shake and the beast was clawing under his skin, and he actually slapped his hand over his mouth as if that would have stopped it from being said. She had taken some good shots, but the firearm’s explosive sound made him sick, and he instinctively flinched. Lucas didn’t know either where they were, it didn’t feel like a place he’s ever been. Though it was beautiful, and it felt if he wanted too, he could make up his mind and go enjoy a nice lunch should he wish it. The looming statue in the background held the person he feared the most. “I don’t know how to stop it, I just know I have too before it’s too late.” He looked at her, the horrid wound on his arm from his wrist to his elbow open and bleeding, a line from a hole near the side of his temple drew a single trail over his eye and down his cheek. Two stains came under his shirt, bleeding through. Luke closed his eyes, always in his nightmares came such profound hopelessness. “Heh, it’s going to be too late. No one saved me the other times. What’s this one matter.”

“What?! That’s the guy from the hospital?!” Agatha remembered reading that name on the papers they had sent her back when Miles spoke to her at the station. What the fuck was going on. Why was she obsessed with this Gotch person ? And who was this guy ? She was pretty sure she did not recognize him but she felt like she had seen him before. “Well that’s great,” and things seemed to be getting greater. Her eyes widened at the sight of blood. “You are bleeding?!” Well no shit Agatha? “Why are you bleeding? When did they…” She was pretty sure that she did not see him getting shot. This did not make any sense. Any other time, she would have been starting to get a headache. “What do you mean? You need bandages, you need help,” she exclaimed. It was not in her habit to panic, but she had no idea where they would find a medic here. The streets were now eerily empty.

“Hey, it’s fine,” Lucas looked down at the wounds and felt nothing. “I don’t feel anything.” Numbness surfaced to these experiences, not ever wanting to relive them, his mind always pushing it away, making it seem less serious than it honestly was. Maybe it was a problem. He glanced at her, confused-- why in the world would this stranger help him? He wiped his cheek, smearing the dampness of red, disoriented from the this entire scene. “Why?” Lucas had said the same thing to Jared, to Winn, to Ariana. So many people that word was directed at, never understanding that he was worth saving. That he didn’t have to keep suffering. “If you help it's just going to end bad for me. How could you stop someone who already got away with so much?” A slightly broken huffed laugh. The statue in the distance rumbled, shifted like its face was turning towards them. Luke shook his head. “I promised to stop feeling like this and it always surfaces anyway.”

“How? Those look really bad,” maybe it was bullshit, maybe it wasn’t, but she was going to trust her guts here and call bull. Agatha, taking off her belt, did her best to stop the bleeding with a tourniquet, then getting a handkerchief from her breast pocket, placed it on the wound. “Put you hand on this.” That’s when she noticed the wounds on his chest and covered her face. “When did you… Why are you bleeding? When?” She did not understand. She was pretty sure that she did not see him get shot, which meant that…. Either he was lying, either she was dreaming.

A floating city in the sky, the fact that she wore a Gibson hairdo on a 1910’s outfit, the goddamn blunderbuss, hostile people showing up for no reasons, people acting weird? This was definitely a dream, and it was time for her to wake the fuck up.

The world around them was shuttering, like a ripple on the surface of taunt water. Lucas’ subconscious didn’t want to thinking about any of this, and in his bed, he was stirring in familiar ways, trying to wake up. The dark swirl in the distance came closer, an impossible black that seemed to be staring straight into the universe. He dabbed things with the handkerchief, but he knew it wouldn’t really matter. He quickly put his hand on her shoulder. “Hey, listen-- whoever you are, just thanks for sticking up for me there, shooting those guys,” Luke seemed conflicted. With that he left the world they had created, and Luke with a start sat straight up in bed. Breathing heavy, but his hand mocked holding something in his hand.

Lucas blinked a few times, and turned the light on. That face. It was clear in his mind, and something more clung to him. A feeling about his situation he toyed with but never had hope on.

#wickedswriting #ignore my bad pun #zz flop #chatzy #para #para lucas

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allmightyneed · 4 years

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Villain!All Might (Smite)x reader. part 2/20

link to part 1

You pass weeks in a distracted, miserable state. Two, three, a month. Longer. At first, you chalk it up to the huge secret you now have to keep. A secret that feels as big as All Might himself. By a complete accident of time and place, you’ve come into possession of valuable intel on the most wanted criminal in Japan, possibly the world. Every day, you consider spilling the details to your best friend, who you also happen to work with. But how would you possibly bring it up?

“Oh, hey Kiko, guess what, I met a guy! Yeah… he’s super hot, tall, bit of a dark side. His name? I’m not sure, but professionally he goes by All Might.”

You can only imagine the confusion and disgust that would elicit. Even from Kiko, who usually tries to support your decisions, no matter how bad. The knowledge itself needles at you too, day after day. This information about his quirk could be the key to capturing him or bringing him down— forget using it to advance your own career. You could go to the police with this, you could go to Endeavor’s hero agency. You could change things. You could save lives. To your shame, that guilt isn’t strong enough to betray All Might’s confidence. He had trusted you. The number one villain trusted you with his secret identity, and apparently still does, because he hasn’t hunted you down and executed you. (Yet.)

Maybe he can’t. Your analytical mind spins theories in the absence of more definitive information. Maybe that muscle form takes a lot out of him, energy-wise. Maybe it’s too hard to maintain for long, and that’s why he sometimes disappears for days and weeks on end. And what about that whole coughing up blood thing?

By the third week, you’re using what little spare time you can find at work cobbling together a timeline of every documented All Might incident, closing in on a thousand entries in a hidden spreadsheet on your computer, and you’re only up to what most subject matter experts would consider the midway point of his active period. You haven’t found any patterns yet, nothing definitive, though as a foreigner yourself, his mysterious stint in America raises so many questions.

“Hey!” A chipper voice and a knock-knock on your cubicle divider make you close the spreadsheet. You turn and see Kiko there, smiling and curious.

“Hey!”

“Whatcha working on?”

“Oh, you know.” You wave your hand airily. “Nothing, really, just some busywork for Mr. Shimada.”

“Well, come on! It’s team lunch today.”

“Aw, really?”

“Yes. And you can’t skip. You’re looking too skinny.” That couldn’t be true, but the accusation reminds you of All Might, how he looked like he never got enough to eat. At least, one version of him. Kiko is sweet to be worried about you. She’s always so kind and considerate, always making sure you don’t bury yourself in your work, inviting you to lunch and for midday walks to get some sunlight.

“Okay, okay. I’m not trying to get out of it.” You lock your computer screen and collect your jacket from the back of your chair. It will be nice to get a break outside of the office for sure. Given the sensitive nature of your work, your building is a secure one, with no windows and checkpoints to get in and out. Other than a few cultural holdouts, the workplace bears little resemblance to a traditional Japanese office, having adopted some more western practices, like cubicles and excessive use of PowerPoint. “Have you heard back from the Licensing Bureau?”

Kiko heaves a big sigh, which tells you that she hasn’t. “I thought I would last week at the latest, but nothing.”

You follow her into the elevator. “That’s weird. Don’t they usually send confirmation or denial pretty promptly?”

“Most petitioners receive the news right after their test.” She shrugs, throwing you a little smile as she precedes you into the lobby. “Guess I’m special.”

“Of course you are,” you laugh, rolling your eyes a little, but you mean it. She has pure hearted intentions about becoming a part-time volunteer hero. Discussion about the intricacies of Licensing Bureau policies and mailing schedules continues all the way to the barbecue restaurant where together you conclude, that her unusual quirk must be holding up their decision. It makes sense. Reanimation, her ability to create a zombie from a dead body, is dangerous and powerful, and is rightfully quite closely controlled. It’s also very much at odds with her sunny, happy personality. She rarely brings it up, but you know she regrets not having a more standard type of quirk. She’s also one of the few people who know about your quirk and has been a steadfast guardian of the secret.

Nothing much happens at the team lunch. Office gossip, rehashing the latest news, etc. Though, you do find out from Mr. Kawada, your supervisor, that you are one of two analysts who have been selected to support and consult on a new account the firm is taking on. So exclusive that you aren’t even allowed to know who the client is yet. You act grateful, mustering as much enthusiasm as you can— it’s a great opportunity— but inwardly, you’re daydreaming about All Might. That’s been happening more and more.

When you get back to the office after lunch, you’re roped into a meeting with Mr. Kawada, and Mr. Shimada and the rest of the team leads. You know you should be paying attention but you zone out through most of it, replaying that fateful night in your head.

A couple days later, the obsession reaches a critical level. You have to find him. Not as an analyst, not to bring him to justice. You just have to see him, and you don’t quite understand why, but it’s a need, a hunger that grows sharper and more potent each day.

Riding the train to work, you start searching in your web browser. ‘All Might’. Too much noise. News articles from twenty different sources all about the same recent attacks clog the entire first page of results. When you get into the office, you go through the motions, sitting down at your workstation, logging in, all on autopilot.

The only thing you can think about is All Might. As time has passed, you try harder and harder to keep fresh that image in your mind of how he looked in his other form. The skinny one, with hollow cheeks and sunken eyes. He hadn’t been any less intense like that.

You refine your searches, hitting wall after wall of no results or way too many. A passing coworker’s idol-themed lanyard catches your eye; you finally hit on an idea: ‘All Might fan club’. That gets you something. You navigate to the first result, an outdated page with a garish background and little animated pixel version of All Might in the corner of the screen. Dancing. you have to admit it’s kind of cute. Suddenly, loud sound plays through your computer’s speakers.

“I am on a website! I am on a website!” It’s All Might’s voice— his villain voice, which has people in other cubicles peeking over the dividers at you to find the source of the noise. Panicking, you close the tab. Then, after making sure your computer’s volume is muted, you find your way back to that same page. Sure enough, there’s a link at the top titled I LOVE TO MEET MY FANS. Following it brings you to a listing of a mailing address and… yes. A phone number.

Heart racing, you copy it down on a sticky note, tuck it in your purse and, before it can register in your mind as a bad idea, slip out of the office.

The train back to your home stop is nearly empty in the middle of the day. A few tourists, old people, some kids playing hooky.

You turn your phone over and over. It said he loves to meet his fans… what fans? Doesn’t everyone hate him? Maybe that’s how you should open the conversation. Hey Mr. All Might, I know you’re universally reviled but I thought I’d hit you up anyway. The idea makes you snort-laugh. No. Just keep it simple.

You: hi.

A few seconds later, during which you stare at your phone, the three ‘typing’ dots appear. Then go away, with no message coming through. Could this really be him? Or is it just some weirdo’s phone number? Some otaku impersonating All Might on the internet. Not like you are in any position to be accusing someone of obsession.

You: this is the girl you met in the alley. You pause for a second, thinking of how you could signal to him who you are. He might meet a lot of girls in alleys.

You: I saw you shrink.

A moment later, he replies with your name. Shock hits you; you click the screen off, black then click it on again. Your name is still there.

Him: I tHOUT I told =you to standstill and bee silent.

It’s him. With lots of typos, but it’s him.

Oh, god. What are you doing?

You don’t reply again until you get inside your apartment. Standing just inside the front door, with your shoes still on, you write out three versions of a witty retort, and erase each one. Stupid. What are you even trying to get out of this?

You: I think people deserve to know who you really are.

Nothing. Nothing for an unbearable minute that feels like another week gone by.

You: I’m going to the media.

You’re not. You don’t know why you just told him that.

The three dots appear and disappear, again, with no new text. You watch the screen for what seems like an eternity, still standing in your entryway with your purse on your shoulder.

And then there’s a thundering knock on the door.

Link to part 3

#villain all might #villain all might x reader #All Smite #all smite x reader #All Might #all might x reader #bnha #mha #bnha fanfiction #mha fanfiction

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xb-squaredx · 4 years

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B-Squared’s Top 10 Games of 2019!

2019 was a year full to the brim of GREAT games, and as is the custom at the end of the year, people love to rank their favorites, so…I’d like to do the same! Of course my own tastes might be different from yours so if you don’t see a thing on here that you liked, chances are I didn’t like it…or more likely, there’s just too many great games out this year, and I couldn’t get to everything. I’d like to stress to that the rankings don’t really matter all that much, especially the farther down we go. Everything on here is an easy recommendation. Without any further ado…let’s take a look at my Top 10 Games of 2019~

#10 - River City Girls

I love action games, but 2D beat-em-ups never really clicked for me. They were largely before my time and I was thinking that it’d be impossible to get me into one in the current era of gaming. And then I saw Marian’s redesign for River City Girls and bought the game. What can I say? Abs are a great sales pitch. But seriously, getting Wayforward on the helm of a beloved classic franchise is already a great way to pique my interest, and while there’s SOME aspects of this game that I don’t quite gel with, it’s a fun, colorful romp through a ridiculous universe that I’d LOVE to see more of down the line. Featuring a role-reversal, with the girlfriends saving the boyfriends this time, River City Girls has gorgeous pixel art, an AMAZING pop-synth soundtrack that’s worth the price alone, and it’s a game that clearly had fun with the concept and that fun rubs off on you. From the stylish animated boss intros, to the co-op fun that can be had with a friend, everything in this game is brimming with charm. Basic NPCs have great designs in their own right, being able to recruit enemies as assists is a neat idea, and it all adds up to a fun, bite-sized adventure with a bit of depth under the hood if you’re willing to give it a look. Can the character designers get a raise for this game, please? And let Megan McDuffie just do all the songs from now on. ALL OF THEM.

#9 - Astral Chain

Most people assumed if we were going to get a Switch exclusive game by Platinum this year, it’d be Bayonetta 3 but instead Nintendo surprised us with Astral Chain, the anime cop action game we didn’t know we wanted. The game boasts great visuals and is probably the most content-rich Platinum game ever made for starters, but for me the true draw is in the combat. Playing as your police officer in tandem with an alien creature known as a Legion, this tag-team action game is unlike pretty much anything else on the market. While the game starts off very simplistic, the Legion itself moving and attacking with no input from the player, over time more and more options unlock and things get considerably more complicated. By game’s end, you’re drowning in options, and once things clicked, combat was always a treat. With plenty of enemies to practice with, Legions to master and a gigantic post-game filled with challenging encounters, I had more fun with the combat in this game than I did with a lot of other games this year. That said, I do feel that Astral Chain could have benefitted from trimming some fat or rethinking its overall structure. For being a new IP with some bold ideas, I’m willing to accept these as kinks that can hopefully be ironed out in a sequel. Oh, and add Lappy to Smash already. You know you want to, Sakurai.

#8 - BABA IS YOU

Puzzle games are hard sells for me, since I don’t like the frustration that often comes from being stuck. You feel dumb, you get embarrassed and turn the game off in shame, or at least that’s my experience. But then sometimes you get a game so clever, so…weird, that you can’t help but be sucked into it. BABA IS YOU is a block-pushing puzzle game, with the twist being that the “rules” of a particular stage are often physically present in levels and are in fact blocks that can be pushed and manipulated by the player. ROCK is PUSH, WALL is STOP, FLAG is WIN and BABA is YOU. But what if you can’t touch the flag because the wall is in the way? Well, make it so WALL is PUSH to move it aside, or maybe make it so that BABA is WIN and you become the win condition itself. As the game goes on, more modifiers and rules are slowly introduced and absorbed into your own internal logic of the game, logic that increasingly has to be broken and remade to suit your needs. It’s a very empowering experience when the solution clicks and the results can often be hilarious and surprising. This game also GOES PLACES the further you go in, and I’d rather not ruin that surprise for anyone who might be looking into the game. Definitely one of the most innovated titles I’ve played in a LONG time. BABA is GOOD.

#7 - Power Rangers: Battle for the Grid

OK, so…hear me out. Power Rangers was a franchise I was obsessed with as a kid, and while I don’t follow it anymore, there’s still some love for it flowing in my veins. So when a small, no-name studio puts out a Power Ranger fighting game that takes the simplified controls of Smash Bros. and the tag-team craziness of Marvel vs. Capcom and slaps it all together for a cool twenty bucks or so? Well you got yourself a purchase and it ended up being WAY more fun than I expected. Power Rangers: Battle for the Grid is far from the best looking fighter on the market, it’s single-player content is lacking, and it’s roster, while interesting, isn’t as big as a lot of the competition, but damn if it isn’t fun to play. With characters taken from across the franchise’s long history, from the live-action movie reboot to the comic books, each choice has been inspired and resulted in an incredibly varied cast. With no crazy inputs for special moves, combined with a tagging system that lets you cycle through your three-Ranger team quickly, the game is the best kind of chaotic fun, but true masters can command that chaos and channel it into cool combos that make you want to say “Morphinominal!” Considering it’s a budget title, it’s also received a fair amount of updates throughout the year to pad out the roster with both free and paid DLC fighters, a full story mode and improvements to the netcode and overall presentation., so if you passed on it at launch, it’s much improved now. It’s not gonna be a fighting game on everyone’s radar, but I’d rather support it than the grind-heavy slog Mortal Kombat has become…Now just hurry up and add that monster that baked the Rangers into a pizza!

#6 - New Super Lucky’s Tale

If your name isn’t Mario or Sonic, 3D platformers are effectively dead. That said, there’s been a few up-and-comers in recent years that are trying to revive the genre. Hat Kid from A Hat in Time, the duo of Yooka-Laylee, and now Lucky from the folks at Playful Studios. The cute fox has quite the history, starting from the Oculus Rift title, Lucky’s Tale, to a full-fledged platformer on the Xbox One X, Super Lucky’s Tale and now the enhanced port/reimagining New Super Lucky’s Tale on Switch. Halfway between a full-blown sequel, and enhanced edition, the game takes assets from the Xbox original game, tweaking and refining everything from visuals to controls to level layouts. The result is a game that is incredibly well-polished. It looks great, Lucky is a treat to control as he moves from jumping, burrowing and sliding around fluidly, and the variety on display keeps things interesting. We’ve got full 3D levels, 2D levels, auto-runners, and even some marble maze levels and puzzles thrown in for good measure. It’s not a hard game, but it IS incredibly fun, and well made. We don’t get many 3D platformers these days, so cherish what little comes of the genre. I hope Playful and Nintendo continue to collaborate, as they really seem more at home here. Just…maybe don’t add more words to the title of the next game, guys.

#5 - Katana Zero

There’s no nice way to say it: there’s too many pixel-based, side-scrolling indie games out there, so the ones that DO stand out deserve to be celebrated. Katana Zero has a real ‘80s flair for starters, using bright neon, TV and VCR visual effects, and a synth soundtrack to give it some real style. When a game kicks off with you slowing down time and reflecting a bullet back at an enemy with your katana, you make a good first impression! Add in the trial-and-error that is planning the perfect route through a stage, the satisfying slicing and dicing of enemies, the unique, challenging boss encounters, and you have a game that was on my radar for a while, before I finally got into it at the end of the year. Its storyline is pretty interesting too, with some slight variances in how events unfold depending on your words and actions, though it ending on a bit of a cliffhanger is a bummer. That said, when a game leaves you wanting more, there’s worse problems to have. At the very least, there’s some DLC hinted at that might be interesting, as well as the implications that this is the merely the first in a trilogy, and at this point I’m game for whatever developer Askiisoft has in store.

#4 - Luigi’s Mansion 3

The GameCube was an odd era for Nintendo, as they attempted to innovate and try new ideas rather than rely purely on their old standbys. Case-in-point, rather than launch the console with a new Mario platformer, his second-banana brother Luigi got his first starring role in what would become the Luigi’s Mansion series. While not making QUITE as big of a splash as maybe Nintendo hoped, it’s garnered a decent fanbase, and when a sequel was announced for 3DS, people ate it up. Considering the gap between the first and second games, I think many people were surprised at the relatively quick turn-around for the third installment. I was also surprised at the overall quality and how much I enjoyed digging into it. For starters, Luigi’s Mansion 3 is easily one of the better-looking Switch titles, boasting some great lighting and particle effects, with some fun physics implemented for just about everything in the massive mansion. Luigi and company are animated with a lot of expressiveness that never gets old, and the music sets the tone perfectly too. From a gameplay standpoint, the toolset Luigi gains gives him ample options to poke at every nook and cranny, with the slimy doppelganger Gooigi being the clear stand-out. Some of the floors of the Last Resort hotel that Luigi must ascend are particularly massive and intricate too, some floors feeling like Legend of Zelda-style dungeons. While not a particularly challenging game, it’s still really satisfying to poke and prod at everything in sight, sucking in all the coins, gold bars and stacks of paper bills you can handle, not to mention slamming the ghosts around like the Hulk does to Loki. There’s also multiplayer! That I…haven’t really touched but…hey! More bang for your buck, surely!

#3 – Dragon Quest XI S

I don’t consider myself a huge fan of JRPGs. Or at least that’s what I thought before I tried out the Dragon Quest XI demo on Switch. I ended up falling for the game hard and bought the full release, carrying my demo data over and not stopping until I hit credits. Despite having never touched a Dragon Quest game before, outside of an hour or so of VIII, I was overcome with this feeling of nostalgia when it came to this game. That’s because Dragon Quest is THE quintessential JRPG game, the originator of all that we take for granted today. It was nice to feel right at home with a simple, effective combat system, rather than having to watch games re-invent the wheel in an attempt to stand out from the pack (sorry Xenoblade), and the story itself, while predictable and a little basic at times, was told well and told earnestly. It really nailed the feeling of going on a grand adventure, with enough twists on the formula to keep things interesting. The turn-based combat was elementary, but always presented me with fair challenges and lots of ways to solve the encounters laid before me, with enough quality-of-life features added in to minimize grind and make things more convenient. The Switch version of Dragon Quest XI featured a bunch of new content on top of a game that had more than enough going for it, and it’s clear a lot of work was done to make this port as faithful as could be, and it stands out not just as a great port on a system known for some shoddy ones, but as a title that’s brimming with as much polish and quality to rival first-party Switch titles. Don’t ban Hero in Smash and don’t miss out on this game if you haven’t taken the plunge already!

#2 – Devil May Cry 5

The Devil May Cry franchise has had its share of ups and downs over the years. For every game that’s considered a success, you have another game that doesn’t quite measure up. For years many thought the franchise was dead in the water after the attempted reboot, DMC: Devil May Cry failed to grow its audience, but when Microsoft’s E3 2018 show revealed to us a new installment, fans were ecstatic. Devil May Cry 5 boasts crisp visuals, deep combat and trims the fat, removing the wonky platforming and puzzles of earlier games to create a high-octane action experience that ultimately exceeded fan expectations. Its storyline firmly plants Devil May Cry 4’s Nero as a main character in his own right, wraps up the story of the Sparda brothers neatly, and if this ended up being the last title in the series, I think it’s that rare ending that ends up being totally satisfying. Combat is the real draw here though, the game giving players three distinct characters to learn and master. Nero’s robotic Devil Breaker arms allow him a decent amount of variety, while having a balanced, beginner-friendly combat style for new players. Dante remains the king of variety, having more weapons than ever before combined with his signature style switching, though the game is actually designed with all these options in mind so he doesn’t end up breaking the game like he did in 4. Newcomer V ends up being a breath of fresh air, controlling up to three demonic summons at once, forcing players to really think more strategically. The music is incredible too; Nero’s own theme, Devil Trigger, has been stuck in my head since last year and I don’t see it leaving any time soon. All things considered, Devil May Cry 5 might be the best game in the franchise, and a worthy contender for game of the year personally. Now if only we had a special edition with Vergil and the ladies playable…

#1 - Fire Emblem: Three Houses

I got into the Fire Emblem series with Awakening and really liked it a lot, however Fates, the next installment, left a bad taste in my mouth. I couldn’t really get into Echoes, itself a remake of the second game in the series, and I began to wonder if this franchise was really for me. I was willing to give Three Houses a shot, but I was not prepared for the game to blow past all my expectations. Fire Emblem: Three Houses isn’t just a good game, it’s a game that’s redeemed a franchise that’s stumbled a bit in recent years, and it likely cements Fire Emblem as a core Nintendo franchise for years to come. It has class, depth and real heart...with only minor creepy or pervy elements! Making a grand return to home consoles after more than a decade on handhelds, it goes big and it ultimately paid off, on track to become the best-selling entry in the series. The school setting might seem weird at first, and I wondered how well I’d adjust to it, but being able to instruct your units and influence their growth in battle was worth the learning curve. Things are introduced slowly enough that the flow of the game becomes relatively easy to manage, if a bit time-consuming overall. With four distinct storylines you can explore, TONS of character interactions and some interesting tweaks to the strategic gameplay the series is known for, I’m confident in saying that Three Houses is well-worth a purchase for newcomers to the franchise. Divine Pulse is a great quality-of-life addition that lets you undo mistakes, rather than force you to start over from scratch, and overall the UI and layout of the game gives you enough information to make informed decisions without overwhelming you. Makes me wonder how we survived before the games showed us who enemies would target on their turns before now. Admittedly, some aspects of the progression have some issues, especially at endgame, and visually the game really is not up to par most of the time, but these end up being tiny blemishes in the long run for me. They certainly weren’t bad enough to prevent me from starting a new path the instant I finished my first route. If I have one request…just make Claude a gay option. Give the people what they want, Nintendo!

Honorable Mentions

I’d like to add on some honorable mentions here before we close things out, though most of these are things I didn’t even get a chance to play, but they certainly might have made this list. For one, Resident Evil 2 Remake seems like a high-quality reinterpretation of the survival-horror classic, but I can’t do horror so I’ll likely pass it up. It’s also for that reason that I might not get to Control but I might try jumping out of my comfort zone for that one. The confusion surrounding both The Other Worlds AND The Outer Wilds is funny, but they’re both space-based games I’d be keen on getting to at some point down the line; the former is a great Western RPG by the folks who made the GOOD Fallout games, while the latter is an interesting space-faring puzzler with some interesting mechanics I’d rather not spoil for those not more in-the-know. Indie titles Sayonara Wild Hearts and GRIS definitely caught my attention with their great visuals, and in the case of the former, its soundtrack, even if the gameplay wasn’t quite there for me, and the weird fighting-game-but-kinda-RPG that is Indivisible demands my attention sooner or later. Bloodstained is the Castlevania follow-up I keep forgetting is out, and I hear great things about Yooka-Laylee and the Impossible Lair. The team behind the Yakuza series recently made a spin-off of sorts, Judgment that hit the West this year and while I like the Yakuza series for its quirky tone and fun combat, there’s still six other games I’d have to sift through, so going with Judgment, which is set to possibly begin a new franchise, seems like a good alternative. And how could I forget the likes of Shovel Knight as we finally receive the last expansion that’s been years in the making? I haven’t touched the King of Cards expansion yet, but I have the upmost faith in anything Yacht Club makes, so that’s surely a game of the year contender. 2019 was crazy good! Glad to close the year out with so much quality, and tons of great stuff to add to the ever-growing backlog.

Hope you had some good gaming memories made this year!

-B

#gameoftheyear #GOTY #GOTY2019 #astral chain #lucky's tale #baba is you #river city girls #devil may cry #luigi's mansion 3 #katana zero #power rangers #fire emblem three house #dragon quest 11 #xb-squaredx

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steve0discusses · 5 years

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Yugioh S2 Ep 43: Things Get a Lot Less Vague, But it’s Still Pretty Vague

I’m taking full advantage of the laziest time of the year and I’m watching even more Yugioh. I even gave myself a buffer. Sort of. I kinda lost a day playing Octopath Traveler and I don’t even remember that happening.

Now this episode doesn’t have anyone getting struck by lightning, but if that happened, it would have fit right in. A lot happened in this episode. So, to start off, Mai decided to play one of the three cards we were given explicit instructions to never ever play and it has immediately screwed her over via orb.

Everyone else watching the orb has become completely enamored by it. Especially Kaiba, who is pretty positive he can turn this sphere into a dragon. I don’t know why anyone would ever come to this conclusion, but welcome to Yugioh, it’s well into S2 and I’m just still jaw agape and saying “HOW?” at my screen.

Like y’all I don’t know how to play this game, which should be hella apparent from reading any of my posts, but like there is one thing that everyone knows--even I knew--about Yugioh the game. Let me just, once sec

Ah, there we go.

Like sometimes it shows that your game is originally in a language that doesn’t require spaces between words. And like this is coming from me. You know how verbose I am, I freakin love words. But maybe that’s too many words for a card.

(read more under the cut)

And while this is pretty much the worlds most BS card already, what’s even better is that none of this jargon appeared until after Mai played the card. Like basically the card pretends to be completely normal and then is like “Boom, gotcha. I’ll just be a cool Ikea orb lamp instead!”

At this point, while everyone is scrambling around trying to fathom what to do about this huge ass fake sun blinding everyone down in Domino, Marik decides to deposit some more bizarre lore.

I kind of assumed Yugi and Kaiba were born with the correct soul formula to become the reincarnation of these people from 3000 B.C.E. without any actual blood relations but apparently, somehow, you got people from Ancient Egypt migrating to Ancient Japan. Sure, I mean if you did enough trading routes it could happen. It just seems like it would be a difficult transition?

And we could get real head canon and talk about their parentage since there’s a lot we don’t know. Mokuba and Kaiba could have different fathers, since they are quite different looking, which may be how Mokuba is exempt from all this lore while it still applies to Seto (Cuz Mokuba has been staring at that card for like quite a while and he cannot read it). But like, I don’t know if the show will even bother to cover that.

I don’t know if we’ll find out when in their bloodlines Kaiba and Yugi’s Egyptian cursed lines arrived in Japan. Was this during like the Edo period? Was this to set up a really bizarre Shogun Yugioh spinoff?

Wait, is that a thing? I don’t actually know, Yugioh seems to have like 8 spinoffs that all look a lot of the same to me. It may just be 1 spinoff that Netflix keeps changing the preview image of to trick me into thinking there’s 8 of them.

Or, did Kaiba have a relative that showed up in the 80′s and had a crazy weekend and a one night stand? Would Kaiba even know who his real Dad is?

Whatever, I’m sure there’s plenty of fanfic made over the last 20 years to cover this so I don’t have to. Moving on.

And then this kid’s show decided to tie up Mai to a wall or something? Man, Marik and chaining people up, this is the fourth person he’s chained up today! At least this time she doesn’t have a box over her head.

Still pretty kinky though.

Yo did Mokuba just...casually walk out of Marik’s Shadow Realm just now?

Again, do they cancel the game at this point because the equipment is...clearly malfunctioning? Like, this is the part that Kaiba is supposed to have full control of because he made all the equipment they’re using and he’s just...glossing over this? Like, this is the one thing that Kaiba would be like “OK wait, wait, we can’t ship it like this, my company is actually ruined if the game can do this, one sec, cancel everything.”

Nah. They just kinda watch.

And now, Marik decides to say the bird chant so we can hear what was actually written on the card and it was...a...

...it was the definition of what a poem is all right...

This is the lyrics to the Ra poem, just so you can see how bad it is. My search engine history will never be the same, but I just want y’all to glory on how kid’s show this poem is, compared to everything else going on in this kid’s show at this moment.

"Great beast of the sky, please hear my cry./

Transform thyself from orb of light and bring me victory in this fight/

Envelop the desert with your glow and cast your rage upon my foe./

Unlock your powers deep within so that together we may win./

Appear in this Shadow Game as I call your name,/

Winged Dragon of Ra"

Bravo, writers. Bravo. This corny as hell poem with its very awkward meter was voiced over alllllll the other nuts stuff going on in this show and guys, it’s a juxtaposition.

Now at this point, Kaiba has his poem he needs to make the card works--so he no longer needs to translate it--so he can just cancel. He’s got everything he wants now. Time to just cancel. Throw the cursed boy in whatever prison you got on this ship. In fact, just toss him off the ship entirely. You no longer need him. He doesn’t even have the card anymore. Mai has it.

I honestly think Kaiba just spaced the hell out at this point.

Also then Marik follows it up by saying this:

Joey gets wind that this is pretty bad and we’re going to get a very dead Mai--I mean Joey was the one who just recently got struck by lightning so it’d make sense that he’d be the one to say "I know for a real true fact none of you are going to do a damn thing about this unless I do this myself.” So he runs directly over to Kaiba but then I think the show decided to edit out him talking to Kaiba because it just jump cuts to Joey talking to Roland instead.

Like it really felt like Joey went the long way around to get on this platform but I dunno, maybe he tried to punch Kaiba in the Japanese version and that’s why they edited it out? I dunno.

Also, how many times will Joey get DQ’d before he actually gets DQ’d? Will anyone ever in fact get DQ’d in this entire tourney?

As Ra starts warming up his engines to start spewing fire all over the field, Joey decides to take a moment to try and talk to Mai. To tell her that yes, he did have a dream about her, but didn’t want to tell her earlier, because no teenage boy in their right mind would tell an adult woman that they had a dream about them during a near-death experience.

Which honestly most of it was lost on the fact that Mai can only hear him as a sort of ghostly spooky echo.

So then, through the power of...the show only calls if friendship, but it’s very vague, y’all...they break the curse that Marik put on Mai, and she remembers Joey. Also because Joey is touching her face. Like literally touching her. This would have been way spookier if she could not see him at this point.

So Ra is getting ready to fry these two up and I thought “wow, we’re gonna get two bodies at the end of this episode. What a treat!” but there’s a twist.

What? Lol what?

Within like 3 milliseconds, Yugi goes “dammit what are these assholes doing?” and leaps up to the platform and then takes yet another direct fireball hit in order to save Joey Wheeler. No one even asked Yugi to do this--he’s not even competing in this game, but he certainly got up there and took it.

This episode must have been a right up shipping frenzy when y’all were 12.

Marik is so pleased that he got to eff up Yugi more in this duel than the one that he actually tried to kill Yugi Muto in. If I remember correctly he did mention that this all was very convenient--I mean he got 3 in one go and he wasn’t even trying. So, Because Yugi is passed out and because Kaiba will never actually step in and stop anyone in this show unless Mokuba orders him to, Marik walks straight up to Joey and Mai and makes some more nonsense right in front of everyone on this show.

This is right in front of most of the entire cast.

Maybe it’s the color scheme but I got strong Stinky Cheese Man vibes from this magic effect.

I thought of pulling more caps from this point but there was waaaay too much shirtless Yugi in it. In my mind, all cartoon characters, when they take their shirt off, have another shirt on underneath. And if they take off that shirt, it’s yet another shirt. It’s shirts and boots leggings on all the way down to infinity like a russian nesting doll, and the image of shirtless Yugi really puts a kibosh to my world view and I didn’t like it.

No kinkshame, of course, if that’s your thing, well, you got a 18x18 pixel shirtless Yugi right there for you to enjoy. Enjoy.

Now that Mai has been trapped here in this hourglass resort, she will lose her memories of her friends for the rest of time, obsessively watching everyone else's vacations that are full of friends having way more fun than she is having.

This is just Instagram basically. Y’all, this is just Instagram.

And some of y’alls Instagram has shirtless Yugis in it, I just know it.

And not to get too real but like, last episode we went through how Marik basically gave Mai depression--and it says a lot that his way of doing this was illustrated in a show written like 20 years ago in a lot of the same way social media works today. Just throwing that out there.

Overall, I feel like the theme of the Mai ark is “Marik just sped up what they were already doing and it was super effective.” Mai trapped herself in her own false and negative insecurities. Kaiba failed to moderate anything. Joey waited way too late to say the right thing. Yugi sacrificed himself again to such a degree that he couldn’t save Mai later when Marik was just strutting around cursing people willy nilly.

And I’m not going to lie, Marik’s cargo pants/cape strut was hilarious.

It was probably supposed to be menacing, but this long cut of this ridiculous cast just watching this weird boy go was great.

Up until now Seto has been a very patient impatient person, but now it’s finally his duel, and he’s so excited to duel Ishizu--but y’all it’s just Seto up against a phsycic again. I imagine it’s gonna go real great.

Other than that one guy in town, will this boy ever duel a normal person?

Also...been debating on whether Mai is dead or alive, and her soul still seems attached to her body--like she’s still salvageable? So I’ll say alive for now. Seems more like a dream than like she literally got transported elsewhere.

Dude. It is S2 and I just realized that Mai Valentine is a pun.

Damn.

If you just got here, this is the end of S2 and things are rapidly losing their mind. Click here if you want to read from ep 1

#yugioh #yugioh recap #photo recap #s2 ep43 #So like this season is almost over and nothing is getting resolved?#joey wheeler #mai valentine #yugi muto #seto kaiba #marik ishtar #How many times in one day can yugi Muto get hit with a fireball #Do not understand how this boy isn't in smash yet #mokuba #tea gardner #tristan taylor #I guess duke devlin was also here in the background

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xxmisty · 5 years

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GUYS, I KEPT MY NEW YEAR’S RESOLUTIONS/GOALS

at the start of the year I had some goals for 2018 but the two I wanted to focus on were drawing at least once per week, and the other was to get back into tumblr.

Whilst i’ve not quite been able to draw every single week (I had patches of severe illness and some weeks during the move where I wasn’t able to) my production has been at a rate of much higher than i’d been planning and aside from when I was down with meningitis last month i’ve drawn several pieces a week for the last couple of months. Oh, also there were two pieces that were V E R Y. S L O W. G O I N G. (Namely the Karolina Dean pointillist piece and Geri halliwell!) because of the extreme detail involved (and a little because of the meningitis in geri’s case :P) but I managed to squeeze 13 pictures in for lucy’s calendar through December on top of other things I drew (plus I had a foray into pixels which I need to start posting properly soon)

I stopped drawing in 1998. I was to make a post explaining this at some point because it took me a while to realise it went back further than i’d realised and why, but I don’t want that to bring down my downright elation that despite all the obstacles I kept to my goal and I have SO MUCH to show for it. It’s thanks to lucy that I was able to do it. She’s done nothing but encourage me all through the year, making sure I have enough electricity, time and medicine to help me Pencil in (ha ha horf) time to create something every week or so and helped me when my hands hurt or I got sick from concentrating too long. She’s give me ideas, inspiration and encouragement, and I cannot express how grateful I am. She is amazing. I love you so much beautiful! <3

And thank YOU. Because my two goals met when I was finally able to get back into tumblr after many years of not being able to spend the time (or electricity, until we moved to the new boat!) on here to really feel at home again. More than that though, it felt like so many people I used to follow here had left in the interim years and any time I came back it was quiet and silent. Dead dash empty inbox. This year it seems a lot of people had returned and my dash was again full of things I wanted to reblog. I’ve also found a bunch of new blogs to follow thanks to newer obsessions we’ve had and the time just flies when i’m browsing here. Thanks for all the giggles, all the stupid shit that you only find in this very special place. And thank you to everyone who has supported me as i’ve posted my art during the year. I know it must have been a slight adjustment for some of you to go from seeing boobies to sketches but you’re still here, and i’m so glad for that. Recently someone i’ve been mutuals with for like 6 years deactivated and that made me really sad. I don’t know if it had anything to do with the adult ban, although it doesn’t make sense in this case, but if they'really reading, please come back and say hi because you’re missed :/

And last but in no way least, thank you Sarah for making me laugh every time I come on here, and being an awesome friend all year long - I canNOT wait to talk about animal crossing with you when the new one comes out I’M GONNA SCREAMMMMM!!!

I have new goals for next year and i’m going to make a post about those later, but i’m feeling sentimental and really wanted to share this today.

Whatever you’re doing tonight, whoever you’re spending it with, I wish you all a very, very happy new year, and a wonderful 2019 <3

#2018 goals #aw yisssssss #about me #new year #moirspritmaterail blogging #sarahssideblog

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donvex · 6 years

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A PLAYLIST OF RICHIE TOZIER APPEARANCES

Fandom: IT (2017)

Pairing: Reddie ( Richie Tozier / Eddie Kaspbrak )

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary:

Eddie is, by all means, a popular vlogger. He’s worked hard to get himself where he is, and the fans love him for that, appreciate him for that.

But they’re also somewhat obsessed with Richie Tozier, and trying to decide if Eddie is, in fact, dating him.

So sue them.

AO3 Link

For @odeto-tozier, based off of their Vlogger!Eddie post.

Tag List: @killerxqueer @richietozierlitaf @princely-dots

I. 101 WAYS TO DITCH YOUR FRIENDS - 932k VIEWS

One of the most popular videos on Eddie’s entire channel, at least for a while, this is where Eddie introduces them. The Losers Club. He’s mentioned them, sure. Talked about having them on for a video, showed off their makeup or their art and directed his fan base to their social medias, but this is where he finally introduces them.

Big Bill is first. Eddie’s best friend, the sweetest guy there is, always there for Eddie. One of the only people to not have made fun of him in middle school for having asthma, Bill knew stuff to do. Places to go. Things to see. And the thing is, Eddie may not have needed an inhaler anymore, but he still never breathed as well as he did when he was with Bill. They’d run all night and never need to catch their breath, that was the kind of bond they had.

And then there’s Mike, and okay, maybe Bill isn’t the sweetest guy in the world. He’s up there, sure, but he doesn’t compare to Mike Hanlon. From the moment Mike is on screen, he’s smiling. Then he realizes he’s being filmed, and he smiles even more. He wants to show the camera a thousand things, from the soft sheep on his farm, to the flowers he’s pressed in his free time, to the pages of history he has organized on his book shelves. Mike is smiles and safety, strong and soft all at once.

Ben is quiet most of the time he’s on camera. While Eddie promises Ben’s all laughs when they’re hanging out, he’s just too shy to do anything for what could possibly (and definitely would) be thousands of people. He’s better at writing words than saying them, and Eddie shamelessly uses that as an opportunity to plug Ben’s up and coming poetry book that he’s been setting up a kickstarter for.

Beverly, Stan, and Richie come as a tangled group. It’s a whirlwind, really, the four of them pushing through the walmart doors at almost 2am. There’s a lot of swift laughter and fumbling of the phone, unwillingly passing the camera from set of hands to set of hands. At some point Richie refuses to give the phone back, holding it high above his head, camera angled down towards a clearly angry Eddie.

There’s a lot of banter, and even Bev and Stan can be heard “oo-ing” in the background and yelling out to “just kiss already!” It’s clearly a joke (maybe?) between a close group of friends, but all of Eddie’s fans instantly latch onto this. It’s perfect, an equal amount of fond push and shove on each end, and it’s addictive.

The walmart group each get their own sections later, and some more group videos are thrown in towards the end, but all of the gif sets made seem to revolve around Richie. His sections is mostly Richie taking the phone and talking about himself, making bad jokes that Eddie swears he’s going to cut out, but it all stays in the video anyway, gasoline on the fire.

II. FUCK THE CHALLENGE SYSTEM - 458k VIEWS

Eddie hates challenges. All of his fans know this, just as they know that any challenge they want Eddie to do - they send to Richie.

Because Richie gets Eddie to do anything.

And that, right there, is what holds every single fan up. If they weren’t dating, why was Eddie putty in Richie’s hands? Best friends, sure, but none of Eddie’s other friends convinced him to do challenges.

(They don’t mention that maybe, just maybe, it’s because Richie is a little shit that loves pushing Eddie’s buttons, and all of his other friends respect him when he declines.

Yeah, they just don’t mention it.)

Except this time, there is no actual challenge. Eddie is going off about how wrong they make him feel, how perverse it is to not only force an uncomfortable situation onto him, but to then expect him to force another youtuber into doing the same. It’s unfair, and unclean, and while he respects any fellow vloggers who enjoy the challenges, he’s officially cancelling any challenge videos on his page ever again.

Richie, who just seems to always be around when challenges are mentioned (who seems to just always be around) immediately flies into the frame.

“You heard it! Eds spagehds is officially moving all challenge videos to my page, so if you want to catch them, you’re gonna have to follow this mother fucker right here.” Eddie’s protests and profanities go ignored, shouts of, “Rich, no! Fuck no!” and then the video cuts to an unfamiliar room, with Eddie moping dejectedly in his chair.

It’s thirty seconds exactly (00:30) of Eddie looking sadly into the camera, dead silence around him. In the empty space next to him, a chair that presumably expects to host one Richie Tozier, is a hyperlink to Richie’s channel, and their first Challenge Compilation video.

( Eddie Finally Does All the Challenges He’s Been Refusing, All At Once - 212k Views )

And now the subs know that Richie can make Eddie do anything, any fucking thing.

And they know what the inside of Richie’s room looks like, too.

III. WHY GAYS RELY ON PUBLIC TRANSPORTATION - 644k VIEWS

This video is literally the most fucking blurry, conspiracy theory, I-Have-Proof-Of-The-Lochness-Monster shit that Eddie’s fandom has ever seen. It is, by all accounts, a normal ass vlog. Eddie’s there at his counter, bright sunlight from the large windows in his kitchen filtering into the space, a cup of (presumably) black tea immediately to Eddie’s right. Not that he’ll ever drink it in the video, because he never does, but he does use it to keep his hands warm when they aren’t busy flying all over the place while he angrily vents about why public transportation is the worst, but actually driving makes him too fucking anxious to function.

Because, come on, fuck turnpikes.

The video is approximately two minutes and thirteen seconds (2:13) long, and yet this video has triple the amount of views as every past two minute long vlog for the past four months.

(Four months ago Eddie released a two minute vlog that was nothing but Eddie’s friends petting his hair, and Eddie making soft happy faces in return. The fandom continues to keep that video alive, if only by desperately comparing the length of Richie petting Eddie to the length of every other loser doing so in hopes that the numbers will add up and mean something. So far, it doesn’t.)

There’s really nothing about this vlog that stands out, not even the mug Eddie uses or the clothes he wears. The outfit is one that they’ve seen before, between fashion vlogs and #ootd instagram posts.

No, the reason this particular video skyrockets in popularity is not because of anything Eddie does, but because, around 1:43, from a very distant shot, you can see a figure lazily walking into the kitchen, grabbing a bowl and some cereal, and leaving. That figure, almost 100% wearing nothing but boxers, looks a hell of a lot like one Richie Tozier.

You know, disregarding the distance. And the pixelation. And Eddie’s face cutting off the figure most of the time anyway, because it is his vlog.

But that almost-naked figure in the background is definitely an almost-naked Richie Tozier, the fandom swears it.

IV. PRETTY BOY TRANSFORMATION - 722k VIEWS

The entire fan base already knew Eddie was a pretty boy. That was half of the appeal of his channel in the first place, that you knew exactly what you were going to get. A safe place for any identity. Eddie had been sent plenty of soft shirts and flower crowns already, and half of what he opened on his unboxing streams was pastel. The fans didn’t need to make edits or gifs or icons - Eddie was perfectly happy to wear all of it on his own.

But Eddie with make up, that was an entirely new type of pretty boy.

The video starts with Bev and Eddie bickering, and quickly devolves into not-so-subtly shoving each other’s shoulders while trying to get in front of the camera. They’re both laughing, wide smiles and warm eyes, until finally Bev pushes Eddie’s head down and sticks her whole face into the camera to let all 1.2 million subscribers know that she is, in fact, going to do Eddie’s makeup - but only after letting Eddie pick his own outfit, first.

The dusty blue eyeshadow is a safe choice, and matches the large sweater Eddie’s wearing. Then Bev is drawing large wings onto Eddie’s tan skin with white liquid, and lining his bottom lid with decorative dots. Eddie tries to sass Bev the entire time she’s trying to put on white lipstick that she had found from god knows where, but Eddie refuses to stop talking until finally she admits defeat and let’s Eddie put on a soft matte pink instead. The last touch is silver glitter, thickly painted from the corner of Eddie’s eyes and down his cheeks.

The orange light of the sun skips across Eddie, shimmering like dust. Eddie makes a pouty kissy face, lips puckered and eyelashes fluttering, head just barely resting on his hand while his large sleeve slides down his thin wrist. And that’s when it happens.

The first actual conclusive clue.

(So the fans say. Because really, an audio clip that is exactly .02 seconds long is hardly more conclusive than any of their video evidence, but the file still spreads like wildfire.)

“Cute, cute, cute!”

The voice comes from off screen, and Eddie snaps his teeth in the direction of Richie’s voice before the video hard cuts to Eddie posing for the camera.

V. TRANSPORTATION STRIKES AGAIN - 834k VIEWS

It’s another shitty phone video, and this time the quality is even worse because of the trembling car. A quarter of the video is blurred, and again, this is another two minute vlog. Two minutes and thirty one seconds (2:31) to be exact. A quarter of that leaves, well, not much actual time to have actual footage.

Once again, Eddie’s transportation life is crumbling. The buses are all shut down, too many workers on strike, and there’s no other quick way to be mobile. He’s stuck in Richie’s run down truck, and maybe he’s a little fond of it, but he doesn’t have time for Richie to make seven ridiculous pit stops.

The fans are a little disappointed that they don’t get to see Richie and Eddie’s gas station excursions, but they notice when the video cuts from an empty truck to one filled with drinks and snacks, and that only means one thing - Eddie gave in and let Richie get whatever he wanted. Again.

One point for the shippers.

It’s a short glance into Eddie’s life, just something quick to keep his subs satisfied until he can finish editing his full length video, which he promises will be out by the end of the next day.

“Aw, Eds, it’s like you care.” Then Richie’s ruffling Eddie’s wind swept hair, and Eddie is trying to keep his stern expression on despite the laughter that starts bubbling up from his chest. He swats at Richie’s hand, yelling at him to watch where he’s fucking driving, but even behind the wheel Richie manages to be a menace.

Then they’re there, wherever there is, (and yet again the fans wish they knew, because Eddie casually keeps skipping over it, but they can at least realize there’s a line of privacy there somewhere that they shouldn’t overstep). Then Richie is taking the phone from Eddie, mock saluting it, and kissing Eddie’s head before pushing him out the door.

Yeah, the all of the fans double take, too. Rewind the video, and then rewind it again. Throw on captions for good measure. That’s definitely there, they aren’t searching pixels this time.

Richie just kissed Eddie on the forehead. If he isn’t whipped, which he should be, all of Eddie’s fans will be whipped for him.

+I. THE REAL MTV: CRIB TOUR!! - 1.1M VIEWS

Eddie’s not in his normal spot. The lighting is different, and the camera is close to his face - utilizing an above angle that Eddie doesn’t use often.

But Eddie’s smiling, his face expression tired and content. Most of his greeting comes out mumbled, and he tries his best to address his fans, but he can’t. He’s too comfortable, he tells them. He recently invested in a good pillow, and boy, has it made all the difference. He’s not a sell out, he just doesn’t see anything wrong with product placement. If a quality brand is willing to offer him merchandise for free, he’s gonna take it.

Except then he’s pushed, and the feed goes hazy for a moment, until the phone is back up in place - and zoomed out this time, too.

Eddie is on his couch, curled up in between Richie’s legs. “I’m not a pillow, Eds. I’m not sponsoring you.”

“Of course you are, shut the fuck up.”

Then Eddie’s rambling about how comfortable the cushions are, how warm the sunlight is, how he doesn’t think he’ll ever walk again if it means he has to get up. He goes on like this for a long while, and Richie just watches him, his own hair wild with sleep and a smile taking up over half his face. When Eddie realizes he’s talking to himself, he turns in Richie’s arms to look up at his face, and Richie jolts.

“Hey there, princess.”

“Are we going to show them our new apartment or not?”

“Mmmmm…. or not, if that means I get to stay here with you.” Eddie sighs in defeat, but he doesn’t look disappointed in the slightest as he leans back to lay his head against Richie’s chest. Richie dips down to kiss his forehead before taking the phone, leading his own rambling.

Twelve minutes in, (12:46 exactly), Eddie blinks awake. He looks up and wordlessly cuts Richie off, pressing their lips together gently. There’s a few seconds of silence where the two pull back to stare at each other with soft smiles curling their lips, sunlight filtering between them.

The fandom cries.

“Come on, loser, let’s show them our new home already.”

The fandom cries harder.

#reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #it 2017 #my writing #youtuber au

229 notes · View notes

namjoonsteeth · 7 years

Text

Ruin The Friendship (part III)

Title: Ruin The Friendship (mini-series) Part 3

Word-Count: 6.3k

Pairing: Jay Park/ Reader (kinda)

Summary: Best friends to lovers. Inspired by Ruin The Friendship - Demi Lovato.

Genre: Smutty Fluff

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

There’s a picture of me on Jay Park’s Instagram.

This wouldn’t be the first time. He used to post dumb pictures of me edited to look like I had a mustache or drawn on huge boobs. This picture isn’t like that. Taken the last night Jay was home almost a week ago, it’s hard to tell who exactly is in the picture. I’m lying on my chest, my bare back facing the camera while my hair fans out messily covering my face. Posted with a black and white filter, the photo looks too intimate to be just anyone.

He’d disabled the comment section so I’m spared any attack from some of his more “protective” fans. I reread the caption, unable to stop the silly grin from taking up my face. I look around making sure my assistant, Bora, isn’t around to tease me yet again for being infatuated.

As always, I miss her the most.

He’s disgustingly cute. I send him a text message telling him it’s still a no on the pictures he’s been asking for since he left.

Y/n: I’m still not sending you nudes, even if you did post a fake cute picture of me.

He texts me back almost immediately.

Jay: fake!? I’m offended.

Y/n: Go to sleep

Jay: I can’t. Can I call you?

I look at my phone. It’s about one am on the east coast in the states. It’s usually around this time that he’s been calling either before he goes out or when he’s in bed. I won’t pretend like I’m over the butterflies in my stomach at being the person he calls at night. Back when he’d just become a trainee, he’d call me before he went to bed every night. He’d been so lonely back then, wanting so badly to be apart of something successful yet wanting to come home at the same time. Those were the hardest times for us. I’d been helpless. I couldn’t make it better for him, and I also couldn’t let him know how much I’d wished he’d come home too.

I call him, deciding to take a break from the work on my laptop. He answers on the first ring, his smooth voice filling my body and causing goosebumps to rise on my skin. He shouldn’t have so much control of my body from across the world, but he does and it’s apparent in the way I sigh involuntarily like I’m finally at ease when he speaks.

“Hi, baby,” he says. He sounds so tired. It seems like every day he becomes more and more drained but there’s still that hint of Jay optimism that says whatever is happening is going well. He still hasn’t told me what exactly he’s up to, other than that I should expect some big news by the end of his trip.

“Hey, you ok?” I ask. He yawns loudly, there’s shuffling in the background like he’s shifting around.

“Yeah, everything is good. What about you? How’s work going?”

He’ll never admit to being tired. Even as he drifts off to sleep in the middle of our conversation, leaving me talking to myself for a good five minutes, he’ll still insist on blaming it on how melodic my voice was or some shit.

The time difference is the worst. Tonight when I’m headed to bed, and he’s got a free moment in between work, it’ll be the same. We’re figuring it out, I think. I mean, we always have. In the past, I’d chalk up our times of lack of communication as being us just growing up. We’ve always been able to go through time without contacting each other then coming back together when we could. Now, it seems like there’s no other option but to tough through it. I try not to complain because I know there will be longer stays, times when he’s touring, times when I have to travel. This New York trip is a test of our newborn relationship. If we can’t get our shit together for this, it’ll never work out.

I hang up the phone on a snoring Jay and reopen my laptop.

“How’s boyfriend?” Bora bounces in, her shoulder-length lilac purple hair swinging behind her. She’s carrying an arm full of clothes probably double her petite weight, yet she moves quickly; hanging up items and ordering them for our next fitting.

I shrug. “I don’t know he fell asleep again,”

Bora shakes her head smiling at her busy hands. “You two love to torture yourselves for each other,”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve gotten like five hours of sleep every night since he left. I’m sure he’s in the same boat if not worse. Believe me, I think it’s cute and all but I don’t see how you guys do it,”

I want to tell her that it’s not a question. When he’d kissed me, he held a part of me that he hasn’t yet returned. I’ve become so obsessed with him ( more so than before) that it’s a no-brainer. I’ll stay up as long as I need to if it meant seeing him through a grainy pixelated screen as long as he promised to come back.

I don’t tell her any of that. Instead, I shrug and go back to replying to an email, requesting us to style a Korean rapper who was invited to an American awards show.

“How are we feeling about the L.A gig?” I ask her.

“I’m in. I have a few options in mind we could think about, so I think we should do it,”

I nod at her and confirm a consultation for tomorrow morning. Bora has been my assistant for about a year now. She’s good enough to work on her own, but thankfully for me, she’d rather not. With her apart of the company, I have much more time to actually sleep in my own bed sometimes. She knows the ends and out of my business sometimes better than I do.

“So, we’re all set up for the Zino shoot,” I tell her putting the La event into the calendar. “I want you to put together a profile of what you were thinking about for tomorrow, and I’ll go through some stuff that we have maybe we have something he might like,”

“How about you go home and get some rest, and I’ll take care of the fitting today. I’ll even sort through some stuff for tomorrow. You look like you’re dead on your feet,”

I roll my eyes at her. “Oh, thanks a lot, but no. I can’t just sleep in the middle of the day,”

“You’re half asleep now, y/n,”

“Stop trying to get rid of me,” I laugh.

Still, I take her advice and head home after another hour.

My place feels emptier than it did this morning. With Bora handling everything at the studio and Jay sleeping, there’s really not much to do but sleep myself I guess. Bora is right. I haven’t slept at all these past couples of days. Jay and I haven’t put any official title to this thing between us. ‘Boyfriend’ sounds kind of lame if I think about it too much. He’s still who he was before; my favorite person in the world. Of course, I can’t go around calling him anything like that; for one his head would get so big, I wouldn’t be able to live it down. It seems so juvenile. Eighteen year old me would be having heart palpitations at the thought of being Jay’s girlfriend. I’m over the novelties. I just want him, all the time.

I end up falling asleep on my couch. By the time I wake up it’s nearly ten, and Jay’s usually up by now. I check my phone to see if I have any missed messages. He must be still sleeping. I stretch out my limbs, getting up to shower and drink some sleepy time tea to put me back to bed. After an hour, I can’t force myself to stay up any longer. I fall asleep again after sending Jay a text telling him that I miss him and not to work too hard.

In the morning it’s the same thing. I have no missed calls from him or even so much as a text message. Even his socials are dead aside from the occasional tweet supporting a project from another artist. The only interesting activity comes from the hundreds of thousands of retweets and likes on the picture he’d posted of me yesterday morning. Quickly, I exit out before I’m tempted to read exactly what his fans think.

I check my email, seeing that Zino emailed me early this morning asking if we can reschedule the consultation a little bit later tonight. I forward it to Bora who immediately sends me a thumbs up saying she’s free.

I spend the rest of the morning trying to forget about the fact that my boyfriend is too busy doing god knows what (because he hasn’t told me anything) to text me back. I’m not a clingy person, I can respect wanting space and time to focus on work, but it’s not like him to go completely quiet. I’ll give him until I go in tonight to respond before I go searching again. Chase has always been my go-to when I need answers.

I’ve already wasted away Friday, trying to catch up on sleep and worrying about Jay. I’m determined to be productive today, even if I am a little annoyed.

I go over the prep work Bora had emailed me last night, adding a few things that I wanted to ask Zino about. Dressing men for events, especially American award shows like this had at some point become my favorite part of my job. It’s all about what an artist likes, and in America, you can go as bold as you want as like as you make it yours. Zino being invited was kind of a big deal for Korean hip-hop. People are looking at him to represent the culture. Bora and I were completely honored when he contacted us to dress him.

When I get to the studio, there’s still no word from Jay and Chase hasn’t answered his phone either. I’m trying not to panic. I’ve never been in the know exactly when they were going and coming. I guess just like everything else, this is an aspect of this new thing with Jay that remains unchanged.

Bora texts me that she’s running a bit late. By the time I’ve pulled some a few of the things we have in the back, Zino shows up to the studio.

He smiles a little less than politely, holding my hand a little longer and tighter than necessary.

“Bora should be right around the corner so we can probably start getting you dressed. I have a royal blue suit that I think you might like and it might fit you too,” I tell him running to the back to pull the rack of options out. I hand him the slacks and gesture toward the curtain for him to get changed.

“And I have these black loafers I want you to try on just for a reference but I’m thinking it might look better with white sneakers. I have to steam the white button up really quickly,”

I wait for him to come out in the blue slacks and hand him the dress shoes.

“You guys work quick,” he says while zipping the pants. I look at them noticing they’re a little short.

“We have to. It’s only her and I and we have too many clients at once. We get everything rushed, and send it back later if we don’t use it. Or we can just buy it outright if we really like it. You said you wanted blue so Bora was right on it,” I gesture for him to spin so I can see the fit in the back.

“They’re a little short but that’s how the guys in the states are wearing them now. I think with white converse or vans it would look pretty cool-,”

“The guys in the states? You know American fashion well then?”

I shrug, starting to steam the dress shirt. “My boyfriend travels to LA and New York a lot. I pay attention to what he’s wearing. He’s very into grungy styles, layers, and denim is his thing right now,”

“You’re Jay’s girl, right?” He smiles smugly at me while stuffing his foot into the shoe.

“Excuse me?” I ask looking up from the shirt I’m steaming. His eyes glisten with mischief like he knows something I don’t.

“The tattoo on your back. It’s the same one from the picture he posted,”

I look down at my yellow halter top that no doubt exposes the black ink on my shoulder blade. I still don’t see why it matters, though. Whether it’s because I’m still not comfortable being called “Jay’s girl” for some reason or because I don’t like how he says it, it annoys me. I don’t like how smug he seems, like he knows just how emotionally and physically fickle Jay could be. Or maybe I’m just projecting my own feelings of not hearing from him for two days. It’s late and I’m tired. I get it, he’s doing his own thing right now and usually, I wouldn’t bat an eye at having gone hours without talking to him. It’s just that, everything seems so fragile. Maybe I’m the fragile one and just need to learn to get over my own shit.

I clear my throat and pull the white steamed dress shirt off the rack. When I hand it to him, his fingers brush mine for a long second. He smiles at the ground, his dimples appearing. Where the hell is Bora? Jay would kill me if he knew I was alone at my studio at night with a stranger, no matter how known he is. He’s always saying I don’t take my own safety seriously, never mind the fact that there’s clearly something I’m missing between these two.

“Are you two close?” I ask, busying myself on the other side of the room with ordering papers that are already in order. Instead of stepping behind the curtain, he pulls his T-shirt off and pulls the crisp white shirt on.

“Well, we used to be ok, I guess. We were supposed to do a song or something,” he trails off, his fingers moving up the buttons of the shirt. “Then he slept with my girlfriend,”

There it is.

He waits like he’s waiting for my reaction. I’m saved from giving one by my phone ringing. When I see it’s not my assistant, I roll my eyes. Of course, he’d call me at this exact moment. Asshole. I have half a mind to decline his call. Instead, I answer, smiling brightly if only for my guest.

“Hi, Jay,”

“Y/n, baby, I’m so sorry. I’ve been running around all day, in and out of meetings, I didn’t mean to not get back to you last night,”

“It’s ok. Listen I can’t talk right now,” I tell him. “I’m working,”

“Working? At the studio? Where’s Bora? Is she there with you? Do you have a client?” He asks so many questions, and it would be a little bit funny if I didn’t know what his reaction would be to all of my answers.

“Yes, working at the studio. A client rescheduled and we weren’t doing anything else,” I look over at Beenzino who’s pretending he’s not listening to my half of the conversation. He straightens the leg of his slacks and holds up his thumb as if to ask me what I thought.

“Where’s Bora?” Jays repeats.

“She’s on her way,” I tell him moving into the other room.

“Fuck, Y/n. You literally don’t give a shit whether some guy-,”

“It’s work, Jay. I’m working, just like you did all yesterday,”

He laughs humorlessly on the other end. “So you’re mad that I didn’t call?”

“That’s not what I’m saying at all,” I sigh. I rub at my temples feeling a headache start to pound. “I miss you, I don’t want to fight,”

“We aren’t fighting,” he says softly. “I just want you to take care of yourself, baby. I’m fourteen hours away. I can’t just be there if something happened,”

“I know, I know,” I say. “I didn’t expect Bora to be late, I promise. I was trying really hard not to stress you out about this,”

He laughs. “You always find a way to get in trouble,”

I smile. “Am I in trouble?”

Jay blows a loud breath into the phone. “I can see you biting that fucking lip, Y/n,”

I laugh. “I have to go, he’s waiting, and I think Bora just came in,”

“At least tell me who it is so I know it’s not some famous gangster or something,” he laughs.

Shit.

“It’s Zino,”

He’s silent. He doesn’t say a word for at least twenty seconds. Even when I call his name, he stays quiet like either he’s choosing his words or just doesn’t have any.

“Send him home,” he says finally.

“Jay,”

“I don’t want to hear it, Y/n. Send him home. Have him reschedule with Bora. I don’t want him anywhere near you,”

“You have to be fucking kidding me, Jay,”

“I’m serious. I’m not dealing with the shit, Y/n,”

“You don’t have to,” I laugh. “Listen, I’m going to go finish my session, I’m going to stay at Bora’s tonight, and then you can call me later if you find the time,” I hang up before he can say anything else.

My headache is in full force right now. I’m ready to go do exactly what he told me and send him home. My phone vibrates in my pocket but I ignore it. When I step back into the room, both sets of eyes are on me like they know I’m literally on the edge of sanity.

“Sorry I’m late,” Bora offers holding up the camera. I nod saying nothing as I start directing Zino where to stand while she takes the pictures.

“Do a few with the jacket, and we’ll look into jewelry after,” I instruct. They both quietly do as they’re told with little to no other interaction. Bora looks at me over the frame of her glasses, letting me know we’ll be talking on our way back to her place.

We finish the session with two more looks, promising to send Zino a copy of the photos so he can choose what he wants later. When he leaves, I release a breath like it’s the first time I’m breathing in the last hour. I pull out my phone to check the time. It’s just past nine-thirty.

My screen is filled with notifications from Jay that I’d ignored. Three missed calls and a bunch of text messages.

Jay: Y/n

Jay: I’m so fucking mad at you.

He does the thing where he thinks stating the obvious will make a difference somehow. Well, I’m so fucking mad at him too. This is my job. He can’t just expect me not to do business with someone just because he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. Mad at me? I’ve done nothing wrong.

Jay: I don’t want you working with him, y/n. I’m asking you not to.

Jay: let him work with Bora but I don’t even want him in the same room as you. And this isn’t a possessive boyfriend thing.

Jay: I mean it is, but he’s going to try to get back at me through you and I’ll go crazy

Jay: I’m not trying to be a dickhead. I’m trying to keep you safe.

Jay: and I didn’t forget you hung up on me too...

The ellipse feels like a promise that turns me on despite how upset I am. I sigh, dropping my head on my desk. This is Jay. This isn’t crazy new boyfriend Jay who wants to keep me in a box. He’s never been like that. If he says it’s serious, I have to trust him. He’s never lied to me a day in his life. He’s never been selfish when it came to me. This, whatever is going on between the two of them has nothing to do with me, but if I ignore him, if I ignore how uncomfortable Zino made me even if for half a second, this can and will become an even bigger problem.

“You think you cannot look so depressed at the fact that we’re going to La for free in three weeks?”

I lift my hand, flipping my friend off. “He’s all yours Bora,” I rub at my temples again staring at my phone.

“What?”

“I’m not going to La. You take whoever you want, and have fun. Zino is your client now,”

“But you’ve already started planning out the looks,”

I raise an eyebrow at her. “Do you want to change it?”

She shakes her head. “No, I think it’s perfect,”

“Well, you have a free trip to LA,”

“Shit, Y/n. What happened?”

I don’t feel like explaining anything right now. I actually just want to climb into Jay’s memory foam bed and sleep all day tomorrow.

“I don’t actually know,” I shake my head looking at the next text that comes in from my boyfriend.

Jay: Call me when you get home so I at least know you’ve made it

“This is what happens when you date your best friend,” she says holding out her hand to pull me out of my chair. Her arms come around me, and I lean against her shoulder.

“A fight is never just a fight. You want to be on your own side, but you’re on his too right?”

I hate that it makes sense. And I hate that I’m fighting with Jay. We never fight. This is exactly what I was afraid of. If we weren’t together, would working with Zino even be a big deal?

“I think I’m going to stay at Jay’s place tonight,” I tell her. She rolls her eyes looking at me like I’d just told her the sky is blue. I can’t be that obvious, can I?

“Come on, I’ll drop you off,”

Bora’s boyfriend picks us up from the studio. He drops me off at Jay’s condo, and I let myself in. I haven’t been here since the night he left. I drop my bag on his couch and beeline for his shower. When I’m done, I pull one of his T-shirt’s over my head and step into a pair of his boxers. I crawl into his big bed, finally feeling a piece of my heart relax just a bit.

When I call him, he answers on the first ring. “Y/n,”

“I’m at your place,” I say around a yawn.

“What?”

“I’m in your bed and wearing your clothes. I’m yours in every sense of the word, but you think some guy I just met who’s not you is going to make a difference to me,”

“It’s not like that, baby,” he sighs.

“It doesn’t matter,” I say. “I’m letting Bora in charge of him. I told her to go to LA without me,”

“I’ll take you to LA myself,” he says like it’ll make up for how dumb he was earlier.

“It’s not about me going to LA, Jay. I can go anytime I want. It’s about you expecting me to obey what you say just because you say so,”

“I’m trying to protect you,” he sighs. I’m kind of getting tired of his sighs. It’s like I’m the one being exasperating.

“You’re trying to protect me from your secrets, Jay. I already know everything,”

“How do you always find a way to make me feel bad about being mad at you,”

“Because I’m a woman,” I laugh tiredly.

“You hung up on me,” he says.

“I’m looking forward to how you’ll get me back for it,”

“Stay at my place tomorrow night too,” he tells me. “I want to come home to you in my bed,”

“You’re finally coming home?”

“You sound a little bit like you miss me,” he laughs.

“I miss your-,”

“Hey,” he says cutting me off. I laugh, pulling the blanket tight around my shoulder. “Watch your mouth,” he whispers.

“Or what-,”

There’s a sound out in the living room that stops me mid-sentence.

“Jay, I think someone is in your apartment. What should I do?” I whisper.

He’s quiet on the other end, I pull the phone away to see that I must have disconnected the call accidentally. I stay still, afraid that if I moved they’ll hear me. There’s definitely footsteps moving in the apartment. Whoever it is, moves without turning on any lights. I grasp my phone in my hand ready to throw it and make a run for it.

“You really think your phone is going to keep me from getting you back for hanging up on me,”

I look over at the doorway to see my boyfriend. I scramble off the bed and jump at him, wrapping my legs around him. He catches me easily, his hands going to my bare thighs. I press my lips against his neck, squeezing him in my arms.

“Are you crying?” He laughs while pulling back. I drop down to my own two feet, but he doesn’t let me get far.

“I thought I was going to die, you bitch,” I wipe at my eyes, failing to pull away from him as he traps me against his chest. His lips press against my cheek.

“And your only defense was to throw your phone at me. I really can’t leave you alone,”

He walks me backward toward his bed. “I wanted to surprise you. Now turn around,” he says against my hair. The tone of his voice has me eager to do whatever he says. I turn, and his hand drags up my back before he forces me to bend over his bed, my ass sticking up in the air.

His fingers peel the boxers away from my skin. He lets out a breath when he has the underwear around my knees. Two hands reach up, palming my ass. He squeezes my flesh, his fingers digging roughly into my skin.

“I owe you for hanging up on me,” he says. Before I can prepare myself, his hand comes down hard on my skin. He soothes it away with his lips, kissing where his palm connected. When he pulls away I’m expecting another sting, instead, he drags his fingers along my clit, making me gasp. I look back at him to see him bringing the three fingers against his tongue before he repeats the motion. Without notice, he plunges two fingers into me.

“Fuck,” I call out.

His wrist flicks back and forth, moving his fingers inside of me. His free arm wraps around my waist as to get a better grip as his speed increases. I move my hips with his rhythm, wanting more.

“You look so pretty like this, baby,” he says.

I’m panting, knees shaking barely holding myself up. Just when I think my legs will give out, Jay twists my hips so that I’m on my back. He pulls the boxers all the way off. His mouth presses against the inside of my left knee, looking up at me while his lips move higher toward my thigh. He bites my flesh hard before running his tongue over my skin. He moves further up, kissing where my thigh and hip meet.

I close my eyes as his mouth finally settles on it’s intended destination. His tongue presses into my clit, alternating between flicks and circles. My hands move to his hair, holding him against me. A hand reaches up, two fingers enter me once again. His thumb follows his tongue, rubbing my clit in between licks.

“Jay, I can’t hold it,” I try to pull him up but he stays put, his hand moving faster. His free hand moves up to touch my skin under the T-shirt, settling on my breast.

My legs start to close around him but he quickly pushes them down, keeping me open and helpless. I pull at his hair as I start to quiver again.

“Come for me baby,” he says against my skin. Almost like I’m programmed to follow whatever he says, I tighten around him as I cum. It feels like it lasts forever, as his mouth continues to work me over.

When my body finally relaxes, he moves up, covering me with his own body. His lips touch mine gently like he’s the most innocent person in the world. I wrap my arms around his neck, squeezing myself against him.

“I missed you so much,” I tell him. My hands go down to the waistband of his pants but he grabs my wrists.

“Not tonight. I want you to rest. You look exhausted,”

I feel my lip poke out at being denied his body. He takes my lip between his, before pushing his tongue against mine. He groans against my mouth, flipping me over so I straddle his waist. I peel my T-shirt off leaving me wearing nothing. His hands cup my breasts before he bends to kiss the center of my chest.

“You haven’t fucked me in more than a week,” I press my lips to his ear. “I want you,”

“You’re the devil, I swear,” he shakes his head at me. When I reach over for the condom, he pulls his joggers down. He lets me get the latex in place before I sink down on him, holding his shoulders. I can’t go slow, it’s like my body won’t allow it. I move against him, grinding my hips over his while his hands hold onto either side. He watches where we connect, and I can see his eyes appreciate every time I slide against him. When I can’t take it anymore, he flips me over, finishing what I started. We come together, a loud gasp and groan. He moves to pull away but I wrap my legs around his hips holding me tight against him.

“Welcome home,” I say

He laughs against my neck, his chest still moving too fast. I reach up to run my fingers through his wet hair. He’s too heavy, yet I can’t find myself pushing him off. I only cling to him tighter.

“Are you still mad at me?” He says against my skin.

“Yes,” I say around a yawn. Still, I move grab at his T-shirt, trying to pull it over his head. He does it for me before standing to go take care of our mess. When he comes back his boxers are back in place. He slides in bed beside me, wrapping my naked body up in his arms.

“Y/n,” he says my name looking at me like I can’t be serious.

“You’ve been ignoring me for like three days,”

“I was on a fourteen-hour flight,” he says laughing.

“And you still haven’t told me what you were doing in New York,”

He presses his face into my neck, drawing me close. “We’ll talk about it in the morning,”

We sleep wrapped around each other. We’re both so tired we don’t stir until probably noon. When I do finally get up, Jay’s still knocked out. I untangle myself from the sheets and slip out of his arms so I can get in the shower.

His bathroom fills with steam, fogging up the glass that takes up the large space. I step in, finally feeling relaxed in what feels like a week. I’ve never been one who needed to be around my boyfriend twenty-four seven, and I still don’t think I am. Jay could spend all day at his office and I don’t think it would make a difference. It’s when he’s away that makes me a little anxious. When he’s home I at least have the option to see him.

I step out of the shower after washing up with Jay’s very manly shower gel. I grab the towel I used last night and wrap it around my midsection before brushing my teeth and heading out toward his closet. Every time I come over, I always find something I want to add to my own closet. I go directly to his row of designer T-shirt’s, sifting through them.

“I’m getting a little tired of having my shit go missing,” his says from behind me.

I look back at him. His hair sticks up in every which way. He scratches at the lion on his chest tiredly. He looks so freaking adorable, but I refuse to let on just how much I like looking at him.

“I don’t know why you don’t just expect it by now,” I say pulling out the black Givenchy T-shirt I’ve seen him wear often. He also has a red one, so I don’t think he’ll miss this one. I pull it on before going to grab another pair of his boxers and a pair of his jeans.

I pull his clothes on while he watches in amusement. Sitting on one of the stools he has in the closet, I cuff the bottom of the pants. When I stand, the jeans sag just a bit, but it’ll have to do.

“Go shower,” I shoo him. “We’re actually going out into the world,”

Jay grabs my hips as I walk past him, pressing himself against my backside. “I thought we were staying in bed all day,”

“You assumed we were staying in bed. We need to go pick up some stuff you wanted from my studio that you never got. Then I need to make sure Bora’s all set on the Zino event. I also want to go to that new vintage place that just opened up,”

Jay raises an eyebrow at me. “And I need to be along for all of that?”

“Yes, because you have to tell me about New York, and because I refuse to build a relationship solely on the sex,”

“We’ve known each other for half of our lives, Y/n. What else kind of building do we need to do,”

I roll my eyes at him for being such a man. He’s right though, but I’m not going to admit that I just missed him too much to not want to spend the day with him. My phone rings saving me from having to answer his question. I push him toward the bathroom while answering the unknown number.

“Hello?”

“Y/n,”

It’s Zino.

“Hey, what’s up? Is everything ok?” There’s really no reason for him to call me. Bora told me she’d sent an email right after she dropped me off, explaining that she was going to take over her event.

“Actually I was just calling to ask you the same thing,” he laughs. “Bora told me you weren’t coming to LA. Did I overstepped last night when I asked about Jay?”

Yeah, kind of. I don’t say that though. Instead, I curse my boyfriend who’s singing in the shower for being so messy and making my life more interesting than I care for.

“No, it’s not that,” I tell him. “I just don’t see why both Bora and I need to go to the event when she’s more than capable-,”

“And your boyfriend wants you to stay away from me,” he adds. I don’t deny it.

“Bora will take care of you,”

“Tell Jay I’m not trying to steal his girlfriend, no matter how much he deserves it,”

I roll my eyes at my phone. “Listen, I don’t care to get into whatever shit you and Jay are into,” I say while pulling on my white vans.

“I’m just saying he has nothing to worry about. I can behave myself,”

“Email Bora if you still want to work with her. I’m available to help with whatever you guys need. I’m just not going to LA,”

Jay comes out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist. He frowns at seeing me a little peeved on the phone. I shake my head, pointing for the closet for him to get ready. The less time he spends naked, the easier it’ll be to get out of his bedroom.

“Ok, Y/n,”

“You can email me if you have any more questions. I’ll see you around I’m guessing,”

“Yeah, see you,” he hangs up leaving a slimy feeling. He’s harmless I know, but I can just hear the ulterior motive in his voice. I’m feeling a little better about not working with him so directly.

“Who was that?” Jay asks pulling on a hat to cover his messy hair. I walk over to help him tuck his T-shirt in the waistband of his jeans the way he’s been wearing it lately.

“Zino asking if there’s a reason I’m no longer going to LA,”

Jay’s quiet while I fix the shirt making sure it doesn’t look weirder than it already does. He pulls it off I guess. I wait for him to say something, instead, he just presses slings an arm my shoulder. I pick up my bag on the way out the door.

“So, New York?” I prod when Jay slides into the driver’s seat of his Bentley. He looks over at me a wide smile on his face. And in a second he’s that young kid again, on the verge of something amazing. I can see it before he says anything.

“Roc Nation, baby,”

#jay park #aomg #RTF mini #RTF 3 #h1ghrmusic #jay park imagine

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reptilerach · 7 years

Text

“Rejection”; Chapter One

NOTE: As much as I LOVE Frans, this fanfiction is going to be a Reader x Sans. Hints of Undyne x Alphys will be mentioned in later chapters (as that’s pretty much canon). I have no idea what the schedule will be for uploading new chapters, since I’ve already typed out about 30 lengthy chapters! There will be NO Papyrus x Mettaton; sorry! Not really my thing. But in other words, enjoy!

@elisakou

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It was a windy, snowy day outside. Snowdin was colder than usual, but the monsters who inhabited it didn't seem to mind. The colorful Christmas lights twinkled with cheer, and the “stars” above shone brightly. As little monster children ran about throughout the town square by the large decorated tree with presents lying underneath, you sat on the dark green couch of Sans and Papyrus’s home.

Papyrus was off doing training with Undyne, and God knows where Sans is. That skeleton really was a mystery. Knowing him, you thought glumly, he's probably at Grillby’s again. You didn't mind the quiet; it gave you time to think. Not too long before you fell into the Underground, you had confessed your love for a boy who's name will not be mentioned. His rejection stung harder than it should've, but you couldn't help but believe that in someway you might have acted...desperate towards him.

You sighed, and glanced around the home. It was small, but cozy. A mini kitchen stretched out across the room to your right, and a TV sat in front of you. You didn't turn it on; most of the channels were about Mettaton anyways. That self-obsessed celebrity would just make you feel worse, since all he talked about was flirting and promoting his brand.

There was spaghetti on the wooden table nearby, but it was already cold. A rock covered in glitter sat next to it, as well as a sock on the floor with nearly 15 sticky notes piled on top. A flight of stairs was to your left, which lead up to Papyrus and Sans’s bedrooms. The door to Papyrus’s room read, “NO GIRLS ALLOWED! OR BOYS. ONLY PAPYRUS.” You smiled weakly at the adorable skeleton’s innocent behavior, but it faded away quickly. Rainbow lights and a odd feeling pulsed out of Sans’ room. You already knew what was in there, even though you’d never actually gone into the room.

The same goes for knowing Toriel, Flowey, the skelebros, Undyne and Alphys. None of them had met you before, but you knew them. You knew them all too well. See, Frisk is still around. And they are their own person. But you still couldn't wrap your brain around how you wound up here in the first place. After all, “Undertale” is a video game. You've played it before. How could you possibly BE here?

Perhaps on “the surface”, you were in such a bad emotional state that it was strong enough to break reality itself, resulting in the travel into the world of code and pixels. But that couldn't happen. Can't it? You were certain that the heartache you felt wasn't powerful enough bring you here. But then again… How did I get here? Do I have super-powers? Or is it just my copy of the game? You thought hard, perplexed.

You placed a hand over where your heart would be, and drew out your soul. It was unique, and very intriguing to the few monsters who saw it. You looked closely into it, and saw all the memories of your entire time in the Underground; plus shortly before. You saw him… the boy who broke your heart. But his face flashed away instantly, being replaced by your family and friends. A scene of you meeting Frisk and Toriel played, and you smiled weakly. Frisk seemed to have a hunch of what was going on, with you being brand new to the game. Not once in any timeline ever did you appear. Which is why, you guess, she is reluctant to reset.

Ah yes, resets. The topic that two- now three- people knew about in the Underground. Frisk was the one who did all the resetting, but was she really? Because, weren’t you Frisk back in the real world playing Undertale? Or were you merely allowing your mind to make it think that? All along, Frisk had been their own being. And so was...Chara. But what does that make you? An onlooker? Or a player? This whole thing was as confusing as trying to understand Gast-

Suddenly, the thought left without a trace. Wait, what was I thinking about again? You leaned back on the couch, and realized that your soul was still beaming brightly in front of your chest. The current images flowing by like the breeze outside were about you first meeting Sans. How you freaked out, knowing that your most absolute-favorite-character of the game was standing right in front of you.

But… your heart had stopped. Your mind went on the run, and fear consumed you. His figure, blackened by shadow, was WAY more intimidating when you're actually there in front of him rather than just looking at a screen. His words still remain swimming around in the depths of your mind, and the image of how you were petrified by his seriousness. You still didn't know why, since you knew it was him and he was only here to greet himself and give you a delightfully funny handshake.

Right, the handshake. You watched yourself through the large soul before you take his hand joyfully and practically squeal from relief and pure happiness. You cringed from afar as you drew the big boned skeleton into a bear hug, and began to cry in his arms. You wanted to slap yourself, as a wave of loathing washed over your head. This is why he rejected you. Because you are too desperate. Look, even Sans is confused and doesn't know how to react! Idiot.

But… You argued internally, he's never met me before. If I were Frisk, or any of the previous 7 souls, I'm sure he would've known what to do. After all, he's used to the resets and different timelines. So, obviously, when this is the first timeline where I show up, he's gonna be baffled. You forced the conclusion of the argument, and reluctantly finished watching the cringeful scenario. Again, you smiled weakly when Sans grinned ever so slightly and gently, barely, placed his hands around your back.

The next channel of emotions flicked through immediately, and you saw Papyrus introducing you to his puzzles and Sans cracking jokes awkwardly along the way. You laughed at every one of them, and were sure that Sans was surprised. Frisk, after all, never really let out more than a chuckle in their first run of the game. But, after a couple hundred resets, you figured they got used to it. Who knows, you may be completely wrong, since you were quite certain that something fishy was going on with the whole idea that Frisk has always been their own being rather than you controlling them.

An electrocuted Papyrus here, a Nice Cream guy there. “Junior Jumble” here, and a bridge of mortal terror there. As you peered over the side, your eyes cast upon the vast, thick forest below. Vertigo surge up through you stomach, and you clutched the railings warily. When was the last time I'd eaten something warm? You thought, recalling the Nice Cream man’s cold snack. It’s not like that helped the frostbite you had most likely gotten on your legs. Staring at your soul, you shivered and instinctively covered your bare legs.

When you had “fallen” into the game, you were wearing nothing more than the attire you had outside your laptop. A T-shirt, short-shorts, and black Nike sneakers. Thankfully you weren't too depressed that you did your hair in the morning. You wore it up into a ponytail when you had first met Flowey in the crumbled Ruins, but now you wore it down to try and keep your neck somewhat warm. Snowflakes dotted your wavy curls, and also your freaking-long eyelashes. Your huge “nerd” glasses were steamed up, and your fingers were blue from the frozen treat earlier. And frostbite.

Thankfully, Papyrus let you off easy on that puzzle. You knew that he felt bad about the difficulty, and decided to keep it safe for Undyne later. Perhaps that was what he was doing today. You sighed on the couch, thinking about the battles you had to go through on your journey. You’re not a very determined person, so you really had to watch your health. Certainly Frisk was aware of that when she started putting the pieces together; so she made sure to give you extra healing items such as a “Manly Bandana” and “Healing Bandages”. You had used the bandages a long time ago, back when you were just greeted by Papyrus. The Ruin’s monsters weren't too bad; they were just souls who needed a good pep talk.

You knew from the moment you woke up on those golden bed of flowers you could go through a Pacifist or Genocide run. But, being too amazed that you were actually in Undertale, you decided right away to go Pacifist. Let me tell you, Flowey was not happy about that. He thought that finally meeting a new human, along with already having Frisk, that he could force evil into you. After all, that's what Chara needs in order to posses a vessel. Hatred, LOVE, and determination. You had none of those.

Your eyes stung and watered from the fright of seeing Flowey in person; without a thought, Papyrus appeared once more inside of your multi-colored soul. A human girl like you could only take so much cold; so you can imagine how exhausted, beaten, and freezing you were when you crossed that bridge to follow Sans and Paps.

You could feel his eyes- er, eye sockets- studying you, from your physical form to all the EXP you'd earned. Sans was the “Judgement” monster; he could see right through one’s lies. It was one of his many, many talents. You watched as your body thumped onto the ground, and passed out cold. Sans’ reaction was actually a little stunning; he called for his younger brother, and pointed to you. Papyrus freaked out, and hoisted your limp appendages into his arms, and from there carried you to Snowdin.

Even while asleep, your soul picked up on what was happening around you. Monsters all through the town looked on from a distance as the tallest skeleton was carrying a nearly-dead human to his humble abode. The shorter skeleton wouldn't rip his eyes away from her, and had his hands shoved into his blue jacket’s pockets. Alas, business carried on like usual, since the monsters were all very much used to Frisk. However, a indescribable tension hung faintly in the air as everyone realized another human was in the Underground, never to escape.

Never to escape… You thought drearily, and glanced out the window. The storm picked up throughout the time you had started pondering; you worried for the skelebros. They were being so kind to a stranger, unlike what humans in the real world would do. The real world… Memories of your rejection and your family all came surging back to you at once. Suddenly, an urge to cry sprang up to your face; figuring that Sans and Paps wouldn't be home for another good hour, you let your wet tears stream down your cheeks.

The soul in front of you stopped playing scenes from your time in the Underground, and faded back into its normal opaque color. Well, colors. That's the weird thing about your soul; it wasn't just one personality trait. All the human children that fell from the surface had one trait, which determined the color of their soul. They were light blue, dark blue, yellow, orange, purple, green and of course red. Those stood for patience, integrity, justice, courage, perseverance, kindness, and determination. In that order.

Again, how did you know all this? Well, Undertale is a game. It was meant for entertainment purposes, and of which means that it could be dissected piece by piece to find all of its history and facts. You knew all this game’s secrets like the back of you hand, but now that you’re here you felt like a lot more from the files will soon appear and have a need to be found. After all, this has never happened before. And since you have no knowledge about this timeline, you will remain naive and not know how to escape. You will remain here forever, never seeing your family again.

But really… How bad could it be? You have friends down here, even if they don't know it. You haven't even met half of the game’s characters yet, and you already feel home. Maybe since I kinda am home, you thought. Papyrus gets really attached to strangers really quickly, which was the complete opposite of Sans. But, it seems that Sans has already started trusting you. Well, he kinda already saw into your soul and noted how you have no LOVE, EXP, or HP. LOVE… “Level Of ViolencE”. Really nice way to trick Frisk, Flowey. You sneered, and shook your head dismissively. EXP… “EXecution Points”. And… HP? What's that again? “HoPe”? It would make sense, since you don't really have hope, either.

You sniffled pathetically, and brought your knees closer to your chest. Your heart glowed a deep blue, which you could quickly tell meant sadness. Some trees tapped wildly against the glass, which made you flinch. You looked around the first floor again, and landed on the sink. It was practically 10 feet tall, so Papyrus could fit more under it. The Annoying Dog wouldn't be hiding under there, like normal, since he was asleep up in Sans’ room. You didn't need to go up there to check; you just knew.

A loud bang made you jump about 3 feet into the air; you whipped your head over to the front door.

Chapter Ten (Where all the chapters before that are.)

Chapter Twenty (Links to Chapters 11 --> 19)

Chapter Thirty (Links to Chapters 21 --> 29)

#reader X sans #sans x reader #frans #papyrus #sans #undertale fanfiction #fanfiction #alphys x undyne #undertale #frisk #anon x sans #my fanfiction #female anon #undertale anon #sans x frisk #rejection

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sabrina-vs-misty · 7 years

Text

The Swamp

The Swamp Maria Sledmere

It all started with the mirror in my friend’s flat, this two-bed dive in Candleriggs. He’d ripped it off the bathroom wall and all that was left in that space was a white rectangle hovering over the toilet, white enough to make the rest of the wall look dirty. The mirror was placed ceremoniously on top of the coffee table and it was six o’clock in the evening and the sunlight was pouring through the blinds in these really intense orange bars. Ice lollies of light. I had to squint as I watched them cutting the lines up on the mirror glass. It seemed a bit early.

“How much are we doing?”

“Man, I’m happy to go all out,” Ben says, generously tipping the last of his money bag out onto the mirror. I watch the white powder slip out soft as flour; only staying solid, each little crystal a smushed-up snowflake.

“You sure?” I ask. Ben I can trust, but this other guy, Michael, who knows what’ll happen to him—hell, to all of us—if he takes this much K. Last time I got high near Michael, we all shared a bed in this flat out in Anderston where some eejit set the smoke alarm off and one of us ended up shitting the sheets. It was nasty. Afterwards, I couldn’t eat a thing for three days.

“Aye, fuck it, after the week we’ve had.” Ben’s already leaning down to get his first line, thirsty as a cat lapping milk. This bit always weirds me out - the beginning. Only a couple months ago, I was the clean kid, not even a toke of weed to blot my record of physical purity.

“Wonder what Stink-head’s thinking?” Michael says, throwing out a typically random conversation experiment. I should mention, Michael’s Ben’s flatmate. Not the flatmate from hell exactly, but the kind of guy who will clog the shower with his pubes and god knows what else, who will never replace the milk, who will come home on a Tuesday night at 4am with an entourage of strangers acquired at one of his favourite haunts: Kushion, Kokomo or, god forbid, Bamboo.

“He’s not doing anything,” Ben says, sniffing sharply, “he’ll be playing the fucking piano.”

“What? He does not play piano. He’s just a fucking ninety-year-old stoner.”

“Listen.” Ben snorts up another long line then slumps to the floor, pressing his ear to the carpet. Intrigued, Michael and I follow suit. I don’t think anyone’s hoovered this carpet since the boys moved in. There are clumps of dust bunnies clinging to carpet fibres and this is all I can see as I squint my eyes. I’ve done one line and there’s this weird rushing roaring sound in my ear, like I’m stuck deep underwater. I can’t hear any piano.

“There’s no piano. I can’t hear any piano,” Michael protests.

“Do another line you prick,” Ben is already greedily huffing his third. His face has drained of all colour and he looks like another person, without the ruddy farmer cheeks. At school they called me Beetroot, he used to joke. I imagine him as this clean kinda guy who moved to the city and went native. Proper wild. Slowly he lays back and again starts humming this tune, so softly and out of pitch that it’s more or less just a warble. He could be a sailor, rocking at sea, staring up at the stars. Really he’s just obsessively gazing at the lightbulb, which I’ve noticed is starting to flicker.

I do another line and the flickering is getting really intense. I’m trying to breathe, to focus on my breathing, but I can feel all the space around me start to implode. The light flickers even more erratically, till it’s practically a strobe. I can hear myself groaning, but it doesn’t seem to come out of my own throat, it sounds so distant; I can’t feel the muscles moving…

“He was giving me jip about my bike the other day,” Michael is blethering, “told me I was an arrogant young man and that I—”

“No-one cares pal, just shut up and enjoy it.” It’s unusual for Ben to be this blunt. He seems so out of it that it’s as if he isn’t really speaking, just letting the words blurt like bullets from his mouth. Michael sort of grunts and leans down to snort up the last line.

“I’m feeling nothing,” he complains, a moment later. I lay down beside Ben. I can feel him, his bulk and his body; the same time I have the very strong impression that it isn’t really him, but a sort of hologram. I know that if I reach out to touch what’s beside me, my fingers would slice thin air. I lay very still and feel the lightbulb flickering and blinking.

All the dust bunnies were coming to life around me. I see them rise up into the air and catch fire in the flickering light and they burn through the room like flies, ablaze with swollen flames. I see them about to land on my skin, where they would leave black scorch marks, strange symbols carved from their dying cinders.

It’s a very beautiful light show. The world of the room is so close, so intense, that I can hardly breathe. I don’t care about breathing anymore; I don’t need to count the inhales and exhales the way I often do with psychedelics. I give myself up to this feeling of having my brain stolen from my body, dispersed across all these floating particles. The particles pulsate, swell, compress, deflate. Some of them extinguish and drift away in ashy flakes. Others catch a stronger flame. My mind is spread across the millioning particles. All the thoughts pulled and stretched, viscous and thinning like combing honey. Each particle is imprinted with tiny holes, honeycomb-textured, and I know my thoughts are melting deep into these holes, sinking and congealing. The other people in the room are nothing but masses of particles and all I know are the ones on fire and the ones which aren’t. The graves and visceral flames. Particles and thoughts dissolving through holes which led into more holes. Parts of me are falling.

I have this idea to move, but suddenly I can’t. There’s just no muscle, no nerves connecting my brain to my body.

I somehow manage to latch my focus onto a single particle. It burns with a strange blue fire and I can see it heading for the window and it’s that light, that steady glow of orange amongst the erratic flickers, that I need. It will take me someplace else. We fly above the pool of mirror. Everything effervesces above the mirror and I know that soon these things will die. They will drop like flies. I manage to push through the light coming through the window, slip through the blinds…

There’s the sound of Michael laughing, terrible and hollow.

I’m in a swamp. I guess that’s how I’d describe it. It’s sunset and the water is a greyish turquoise, aflame in certain places from the sun. Its ripples and rivulets seem two-dimensional, like someone’s painted the white waves in acrylic paint—just hundreds of sketched hexagons. Luminous edges. Gnarled trees lean over the water. I hop over giant lily pads to get to them, since I’m sort of floating, suspended over the water; I can’t move except to hop over lily pads. I try to reach out to see the tree trunks better but their texture is blurred, like a low-res computer graphic stretched to the limits of its pixels.

I’m stuck in the swamp. I can hear the piano notes float from nowhere. They spin round and round and i know that if I could somehow latch myself onto their melody, I could get back, back to Ben and Michael’s flat. The problem is that I can’t make sense of the notes. They’re dissonant and strange, like atonal music we’d listened to in our college composition class. There’s this weird heavy keyboard sound that keeps breaking through the purer notes; always on the brink of being in tune, but always too sharp, a little flat. Breaking apart the semitones. I know what was happening: the particles had morphed into notes. They’re returning to haunt me.

Old Stink-head has me caught and I’ve never even met him.

The water feels like jelly. I plunge my hand over the edge of a lily pad and I can hardly move it through the stuff. In fact, it gets stuck. I feel the rest of my body seize up with my hand just stuck in the sticky water. I have my body but it wasn’t mine anymore. Once again, the sensation of my thoughts slipping away from me, dripping deep into honey-coated hexagon holes. I can feel my body being gradually sucked down, down off the safety of the lily pad and through into the inscrutable depths of greyish-blue.

I’m drowning. I’m paralysed; I’ve fallen in. Fallen doesn’t really describe it though; it’s such a slow, dragging process. Like having my lungs steadily emptied, my brain drained of all thought. I can only submit to the feeling like a passive, pointless invertebrate.

I see the surface of the water above me, glaring with the opaqueness of a mirror. I can see only darkness, the swallowing whole of my life. Then something grabs me and I’m thrown out again, gasping for air; the swamp atoms rearranging themselves like icons dragged across a disordered screen.

I’m drifting along one droning note. It pulls me over the swamp, soaring above the lily pads, the grey-blue death water, the evil blurry trees, the blinking eyes of fireflies. I can smell the note, its stinking dissonance. It burrows deep in my bones, this filthy stench. I think of maggots and the remains of mammals, bloodied and raw on a forest floor. Blackened remains of honeycombs, the dead black bodies of bees. Crisp to touch. Pink strips of flesh, the soiled spots where you can’t tell between plain old earth and a mammal’s organ. The swamp would swallow us all.

I don’t know when I wake up exactly, but I find myself on Ben and Michael’s carpet, gasping for breath. Hands on my shoulders, fingers on my skin. Ben is pinching me, shouting my name, calling me a bastard.

“Woah,” is all I can manage. I want to see a clock. I feel like aeons of space-time have passed in ten minutes. A violent sneeze snatches my senses.

“He’s stopped playing,” Ben says, “Stink-head’s packed it in.”

“You mean there was no music at all?” I ask, bewildered.

“I heard he sold his fucking piano. Dirty money too eh?”

I can’t hear anything else, because all that fills my ears is the jarring sound of piano notes, the eerie hush and sway of those old trees. I blink and rub my eyes and I can still feel the jelly of that swamp water clinging to me, sucking me under…

From somewhere above, Michael’s voice blurts out, all distorted.

“I’m never touching your ket again…”

#ketamine #short story #fiction #writing #CRAZY SPACE #drugs #supplement #pharmakon #swamp #dirt aesthetic #gilded dirt #motes #gold #dust #snorting lines #mirror #surrealism

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ouraidengray4 · 7 years

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I Spent My Honeymoon Playing a Video Game. What Is Wrong With Me?

In my defense, my honeymoon wasn’t terrible, and I’m not a horrible person. I am, however, a self-indulgent manboy who is at times prone to lengthy video game sessions in lieu of say, eating or sleeping. So when Nintendo and Niantic released Pokémon Go in the same month that my newly wedded wife Christine and I were set to take the honeymoon of our dreams, there was bound to be some tension over diverted attention. I wish I could blame Pikachu for single-handedly forcing my wife to the brink of divorce after one month of marriage, but I can’t. Charizard was at fault too. And also me. Largely me. That’s my gamer shame to bear. Here’s what happened.

For our honeymoon, the plan was to road trip through the entire northwest quarter of the United States. Start in Chicago, head west through a bucket list of national parks, hit the West Coast, and take our time heading down to Los Angeles, our new home. We wanted to bask in hot springs in Yellowstone and get weird at as many bars as possible in Portland.

Seriously, it was everywhere.

But then we got married and left for our trip in July of last year, which as you may recall, was also the month Pokémon Go was released. Do you even really remember Pokémon Go at this point? For a brief, heady moment, the GPS-driven augmented reality mobile game had most of humanity swearing at digital pigeon monsters. Pedestrians were run over; relationships were formed; and an empire of Poké-specific content was gathered, consumed, and excreted instantly. It was a fun phenomenon while it lasted, which was approximately one month before everyone was completely over it. I have one friend who still plays. He just reached level 27, and we are concerned about him.

But during the summer of '16, everyone was Go-ing; it was the thick of Pokémon fever. I began dabbling, working the game into my very adult life, playing when there was downtime on the train commute home, having it on during morning jogs. Within a week, I was playing during every car ride I took, taping my cell phone to a ceiling fan to hatch a 10K egg.

On my honeymoon, this translated into visiting tourist traps, booking Pokémon-friendly Airbnbs (our apartment in Minneapolis sat on two PokeStops!), and generally ignoring Christine for chunks of time. The trip brought to light some of my less-than-glowing gaming tendencies. Primarily the fact that I do not know when to stop playing a video game.