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#and mine are low quality comparatively

ofswordsandpens · 3 months

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Finale Thoughts

The show stuck the ending far better than I thought it would and when compared to the preceding episodes it knocks it out of the park. That being said, I think because the bar was so low going in, that it makes this episode feel spectacular when really every episode should have done this well, at minimum.

Solo Lessons and Ares Battle

I'm so happy they included the one-on-one training sessions with Luke since its so essential to foreshadowing. I also liked the setting in the woods but why was it like autumn/fall in the flashback lol? However, I think that did unintentionally add a dreamlike quality to the scene which I did really like so whatever I'm here for it.

That being said I do wish these scenes were in episode 2/3 alongside the other chb stuff instead of being a flashback in the finale because it makes it just so on the nose that Luke's the traitor. However, the shot panning from Luke's extended sword to Percy's on the beach ate I can't lie.

Honestly it may have been interesting if they had established some of the solo lessons early on in episode 3 and then done periodic flashbacks to expand on them throughout the series. That way, its not so obvious that Luke's the traitor in the final hour and we also get cool transition shots and establishing that Percy is thinking about what he's learned from his lessons with Luke.

#Relieved that the Ares and Percy fight was not a single sword strike and then cut to black. Glad we had some action. Still think we should've pushed the limits much harder tho.

Oh but Percy's wave did go hard. They actually made the wave much bigger than what happened in the book and now I'm just sitting here wondering why we couldn't see some more of this instead of 10,000 cut to black scenes every time Percy uses his powers.

I wish we had gotten this Ares's reaction from the book when he lost: "The roar that followed made Hades’s earthquake look like a minor event. The very sea was blasted back from Ares, leaving a wet circle of sand fifty feet wide." Show Ares's reaction seemed so anticlimactic in comparison.

And no curse???? huh??

I know Ares was like "we're enemies 4 life now" but the curse and dialogue from the book goes so unbelievably hard: “You have made an enemy, godling. You have sealed your fate. Every time you raise your blade in battle, every time you hope for success, you will feel my curse. Beware, Perseus Jackson. Beware.”

Why couldn't show Ares say that??

Olympus, Zeus, & Poseidon

[Insert aw, she's ugly John Mulaney Meme]

sorry Olympus could've should've been prettier.

Like Olympus in the book felt a lot more wondrous and lush and colorful. But in the show it seemed so dull. Idk if its cause the "war's happening" or whatever it was just bland. a wash of dull-looking cgi and then an instant cut to the Big Palace.

Lance Reddick's Zeus was amazing tho. He had that godly presence I've been waiting for.

And Toby Stephens's Poseidon? oh I loved it.

I especially loved their conversation in greek.

I still wish however they would have done effects on the gods' eyes. Like glowing with energy or something when they get emotional. I felt like I was waiting to see electricity burst from Zeus when he was yelling at Percy.

And so it turns out that the reason why they changed it to Percy missing the deadline in the show was to create a situation in which Poseidon surrenders a war for his son.

And listen, if this scene existed in a vacuum I'd be so here for it. I guess a part of me can't fathom the solstice being anything other than a hard deadline. I enjoy the scene without context, within context I have mixed feelings about it.

But the "do you dream?" convo between Percy and Poseidon. Oh my god no notes. I loved it.

Some more book dialogue that I wish made it: “You did well, Perseus. Do not misunderstand me. Whatever else you do, know that you are mine. You are a true son of the Sea God.”

Luke's Betrayal

Okay here's where we get some high highs and low lows.

Some things I sincerely liked:

The setting. Fireworks going off in the background. The lantern illuminating the side of Luke's face with the scar. So visually nice.

Luke actively trying to recruit Percy! I've always joked that if Luke was just a little smarter he would have tried to persuade Percy to join his side rather than immediately kill him. And I do like that the show went this direction.

While I do mourn the loss of the scorpion them battling via swords is a great subversion of the sword mentor/mentee dynamic they share. It makes the scene tense and fast pace.

And its all of the above that makes me wonder why we didn't have more of this throughout the show: talking while battling, visually appealing and dynamic settings, unique visuals, etc.

I love how triggered Luke was at Percy's mention of meeting Hermes. I still hate how much Hermes introduction bogged down the show but damn if it didn't lead to one singular funny moment.

Percy getting a hit in on Luke and then immediately apologizing

"I didn't think you'd give the shoes to Grover." Oh that was cold.

Walker and Charlie deserve their flowers and more they were fantastic and carried.

Now things I DIDN'T like:

I don't like how Percy pieced it together with the information he did have... which honestly isn't a lot in the show? If he was going to figure out that Luke was the traitor I would've have had Luke show more of his bitterness like he did in the book. Like the fact the show never even mentioned Luke's failed his quest loses the entire element of Percy succeeding an "impossible" quest and being celebrated while Luke only got a scar and a chip on his shoulder from his failed one.

Luke's scar shoulda been worse idc.

Percy should have been mortally wounded. That's where we run into an issue with there being no scorpion because yeah, a fatal sword injury probably would've been a bit much to depict. I also 10000% think that Luke is enough of a baby to get his daddy issues triggered and then try to off Percy for it even if his original intention was to recruit him.

Also the fact that you see Luke raise his sword for a damning blow and then the very next day you have Percy like "I don't think Luke was trying to kill me." and Chiron agreeing? asdlkfjsdlkf WRONG.

Also, sorry, I don't like that Annabeth was there.

But if you're gonna have Annabeth there, her reaction to Luke betraying her and trying to hurt Percy should've been way more severe than a solemn "I heard everything."

She shoulda been crying, questioning, yelling even if she had suspected him. It's one thing to suspect it, it's another to see the person you consider your family to actually prove it true.

(And this isn't on Leah! It's 100% on the directors cause what was the thought process here? Her brother figure betrays her and she's like :/)

And sure, in the book Annabeth isn't actually all that surprised by Luke's betrayal when Percy tells her about it... but we also never got to see her initial reaction to it. Percy was out for 2 days.

Just, if book Annabeth had been there, she would've been so emotional and that's okay!! let Leah show off her chops!

Sally

I mourn book Sally. I mourn her arc. I mourn the power of Sally unapologetically petrifying Gabe with Medusa's head.

One of the most iconic storylines from the book and it was sanitized in the show to the point that it lost all sense and meaning.

Honestly one of the biggest disappointments of the show for me.

Other

I love the fact that a flower is the searcher's license for satyrs its just so silly and sweet.

I love Annabeth sincerely hugging Percy but also using it for strategizing purposes it feels very on point for her.

Also her braids at the end!! so sweet!

I am very very bitter that Percy didn't see the fates. This + the changes made to Sally's characterization and arc... the show truly doesn't get it.

#pjo show crit #probably need to edit this its likely riddled with typos but

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17isrighthere · 6 months

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☆ UPSCALING LOW QUALITY FOOTAGE

what i used: • 2021 macbook pro with m1 chip (390/500gb storage used she's hanging in there) • photoshop 2020 • mpv (for screencaps but this isn't needed!) • handbrake (available for linux, mac and windows here) • video source to gif

what is handbrake? basically its a software that helps you change the format of videos, such as for certain devices or screens, or in the case that we're going to utilise, quality and frame rate!

disclaimer: handbrake is super easy to use and very beginner friendly for this procedure and it can make a video go from 30fps to 60fps however it does not replace the quality of true 4k/blue/master-pro res files. in the gif below, this is the level of detail in a master pro-res file.

getting started it's easiest first to note the timestamps of the video you want to encode, and keep in mind that unless your computer is incredibly powerful, i wouldn't try to encode an hour worth of footage in one run! my laptop could handle about 30 seconds in one go before she started toasting.

using handbrake: once you've downloaded the software, open the software and it will come up with a pop up window asking you to open the video source (that is presumably saved within your folders) and go ahead and do so!

in the range section, use the drop down button to navigate to seconds and enter your timestamp. the duration on the side will show how long of the footage you're gonna encode is!

then go down to the save as, and give your footage 'to be snipped' a name. this isn't necessary but useful because if you're planning to say, encode 3 or 4 small parts of footage in one sitting, each encoding instance will overwrite the previous one. so i just call mine 'cut 1', 'cut 2' and so on.

next go to preset, and there you'll see such a wide variety of options that you can play around with, with differing qualities, frame rates, sound options, and so on. for the sake of this tutorial, i'm using 'superhq 2160p60 4k av1 surround' and i've used the drop down menu to select it! then go ahead and press start! the time taken to complete depends on the duration of footage that you sent to encode! you'll find your encoded video as an .mp4 file in your designated folder (which you can change via browse at the bottom)

what next? • if you prefer to open footage directly into photoshop (my ps can't handle it), then go for it! • if you screencap as i do, then just use mpv or whatever screencapping program you prefer to make the screencaps and open in ps in your usual manner. • you can use the timestamps to further process the video through vapoursynth to denoise, but i've yet to try that!

the results for this first set of example footage, i used footage from the be the sun concert file, which is almost 2 hours in length and 4gb in file size.

you can see the difference in the smooth frame rate of the footage, as well as the quality of the sharpening!

and to utilise the bane of gifmaking, a gose episode, notorious for dodgy pixelated frames and less hd quality in 1080p on youtube, i ran it through the same settings!

these are the exact same files, downloaded using 4k video downloader and with the same sharpening, but see how on the original file, the sharpening looks a bit more harsh and 'outlined' while it seems to sit softer on the encoded 4k version!

so i mainly use handbrake for dvd files, or not-so-hd 1080p youtube videos or videos that seem a bit clunkier but i had never tried them on a tv/film file so take a look below! i used a 1gb (so not very good quality) of a show (as compared to its 4gb files).

as i said at the start in the disclaimer, handbrake can't replicate true file quality, as you'd expect to see in a proper hd bluray/t*rrent file of a show but there's an interesting difference in the frame rate. personally it's not something i would utilise much there but its all up to individual preference on how someone prefers to have their gifs <3

this is a very basic run-through of how i used handbrake, as i haven't really explored all its features and i use this as a quick process when i'm running through seventeen dvd/dl files but i feel like it would work well on general youtube videos (such as interviews, episodes, behind the scenes) and feel free to send an ask/message for any help/clarification! <33

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therealhousewifeofharrystyles · 10 months

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Harry’s Home

(PART I.)

Pairing: Roommate!Harry // Nameless 1st-Person Femme Protagonist

Word Count: ~ 12k words

‼️Mature/18+‼️

⚠️ Content Warnings: Adult Language, Lots of Flirting, Pining, Love/Hate Dynamic, References to Body Weight (“Chubby” Reader), Body Objectification (M & F), References to Masturbation (F), Mentions of Body-Type Biases, Alcohol Consumption (Legal & Responsible Drinking), References to Ovulation & Implications to Breeding

**ANY & ALL IMAGES USED ARE NOT MINE**

Likes, Comments, Reblogs, and Follows are 100% welcome 💕

Weeknights deserve more credit. For many of us, it’s the peaceful resolution to our day. It’s the time when we come home after being excused from our lectures or meetings, or when we clock-out at the end of our shifts. We’ll safely make it back to our comfort zones and our open time slot can be occupied with whatever we want. Those few free hours are sacred. They give adults a necessary recharge. Personally, I share my humble homestead with an egotistical, British businessman—Harry Styles.

Harry was employed as a marketing executive for a unisex fashion brand located in Portland, Oregon. ‘Vol. 6’ started out as a small business, and had recently made waves in the industry with its diverse designs and overall style inclusivity. The company’s roots were planted by a few local, starving artists who set up an online shop with the most modest of intentions. The amateurs were blindsided by how their ideas blew up in overwhelming popularity via the internet. It was like winning the lottery. They eventually accumulated so many orders that they needed to expand their operations—hiring an A-team of designers, tailors, and legal professionals(for copyright purposes, of course). International sweatshops and inhumane labor conditions were far from what Vol. 6 sought to create. And so they stayed in Portland—keeping their focus upon ensuring exceptional product quality, as well as enforcing flexible, comfortable, and progressive working environments for its employees. Although an underdog in the fashion scene, Vol. 6’s excellent reputation continued to soar without a hitch. It turns out that a cohesive process of structured business management and clever marketing can be achieved without sacrificing empathy, creativity, realness, or substance. The only disadvantage is the limited supply of merchandise whilst there’s a metastasizing demand. It’s not like this kind of business structure is rare. High-status designer brands have been known to keep their stock low—or at least that’s what they say—for their popular items to seem more valuable and special. As an operation that works against those capitalist games, Vol. 6 values employee and customer satisfaction over profit. The company’s active attention and true kindness are what separates them from the rest.

So, as I mentioned before, Harry is a part of Vol. 6’s marketing team. He often collaborates with the designing team when he’s working on new promotions or adverts. Creative cohesiveness is essential to successful marketing. Hence why Harry and Mitch became close friends as they had consistently developed ads together for a couple of years.

Some have referred to the boys as yin and yang. One of the two tended to present himself as intimidating and pretentious, whilst the other was comparatively quite mild and personable. It was a mystery how these men befriended one another instead of becoming enemies. Harry was the type that wanted to complete tasks his way, and his way only. In total contrast, Mitch liked spontaneity—preferring to ‘go with the flow’ rather than planning ahead. That method of living was despised by Harry. He was set in his ways. It didn’t make sense to him how his friend could act so unbothered by the world’s chaos. Maybe it was just his hot temper, or maybe it was the way his natural responses to conflict were either instigating a verbal quarrel or using bitter humor as a defense mechanism…but Harry just wasn’t a people person. Mitch had thankfully brought him out of his comfort zone a few times—reminding Harry of his university days when his mates had turned him into a womanizer. The results, however, differed from those times due to Harry developing a bleeding heart as he progressed through his twenties. He was open to new experiences and fun banter with strangers as long as Mitch accompanied him. And so they became somewhat of a package-deal. Well, at least that had been the case before Mitch started dating Sarah Jones.

Harry had nothing to dislike about Mitch’s girlfriend. They got along just fine. However, Mitch became less and less available to Harry outside of work…Which meant Harry wasn’t going out much, and that was his issue. Of course he was happy for his friend—Mitch was supportive of him when he was in a serious relationship a few years back. There was no reason for Harry to be bitter. I personally believe he was just lamenting; that he was struggling to accept the fact that life would no longer be the same as it was. He looked back to when he was working towards a degree and reminisced about how he felt more socially fulfilled from living with, and eventually befriending, complete strangers. Those college memories had been the stepping stones of Harry’s development into true adulthood. He had no intention to ever stop growing and improving as a man. Thus why Harry sought to make a big lifestyle change in order to work towards branching out on his own accord. No more was he to reside in a bachelor-pad apartment with a shitty landlord who had never fixed the rattling air-conditioner. He was going to move somewhere more permanent. A place where he could enter his thirties as successful, single, and not lonely. A housemate would solidify the latter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Having met him briefly a few times, Sarah recognized a few of Harry’s traits as noticeably familiar. She knew someone personally with identical mood swings, a goofy laugh, and an annoyingly specific taste regarding every little thing. The combination of resemblances felt bizarre to witness up close. She felt like Harry had been performing as some sort of parody—speaking in hyperboles and absolutes as a joke. But she soon realized she was wrong and that he was just like that. Reacting emotionally was actually his genuine response to any sort of change. Sure, she’d interacted with the moody type before. She’d also certainly met plenty of picky control-freaks. Only, the person Harry reminded her of was unique in that she was entertainingly campy, yet sincerely empathetic; and Harry was the same. That person who’d come to her mind was me. And as soon as Sarah heard the news that Harry was looking for a roommate, her ears perked up and she reached out to me immediately.

But I guess I should probably explain the origin story of Harry and me, together, in more detail…here, I’ll start over:

My introduction to Harry was when a friend of mine, Sarah, gave me the news that her boyfriend’s officemate, Harry, was looking to lease a new place. The house was located in a nice suburban area just outside of Portland. Seeing that the neighborhood had been on the upscale side, he wanted to find a roommate to split the pricey rent with. Me, working full time and desperately seeking a replacement for living with my parents, saw this as the golden opportunity to finally have true independence. My initial excitement almost deterred me from wondering whether this ‘Harry’ dude was decent, or reliable, or if he was just some complete prick. I’d never met the guy. I didn’t know a single thing about him besides his name, and yet I’d already begun to mentally pack my bags. I still should’ve had more reservations about it. But then again, I was already aware of how uncomfortable living with a complete stranger was—thanks to college life in the U.S., of course. Also, Sarah’s boyfriend, Mitch, was (and still is) a respectable guy and I was sure he’d only surround himself with people of the like…logically speaking. After all, he was my closest friend’s boyfriend. If Harry stepped on my toes even once, Mitch would endure a hurricane of wrath from my Sarah.

The added layer of safety provided by my best friend’s loyalty was comforting. But this was still a gigantic step for me as a young adult. I’d be actually moving out of my parents’ house entirely for the first time ever. You could say I was blissfully naive of what challenges and obstacles my future held. Apart from all my idealistic daydreaming, I couldn’t help seeking a clearer picture of who Harry actually was (literally and figuratively).

Sarah had given me a basic description:

“He’s a sweet guy. But he tends to act kind of… ambiguous at times? His vibes go back and forth, you know? Kind of unpredictable. Hot ‘n cold…” she trailed on.

Ok. That obviously required significant elaboration—of which she’d eventually come around to providing after I sang the classic Katy Perry lyrics she’d unintentionally referenced.

“…Yeah, yeah, yeah…” She dismissed me, my sing-songy tangent coming to a giggly close.

“…But I’m serious—Mitch has told me all about Harry’s passive narcissism and how much of a stubborn grump he can be…I don’t know, maybe it’s a British thing. A stereotype, I know; but he switches from sarcastic to compassionate on the flip of a dime…” Sarah rambled.

I squinted at her and shook my head in disbelief. This was starting to sound a little sketchy. A grumpy, moody, narcissist? Awesome.

“Psh, so he’s a crabby geriatric divorceé? Wonderful…It’s no wonder he’s got that old-timey name, to boot. The guy just needs a caretaker…also, why would Volume 6 hire an old dude to handle their marketing campaigns..?” I joked.

Sarah shook her head and laughed as if I’d just said something utterly ridiculous.

“HA! Oh, god…I’ll have to remember to tell Mitch all of what you just said.” Sarah wheezed, entertained by my very false assumptions of Harry.

I blinked at her, not understanding why she found what I said so funny.

“…You have it all wrong, babe. He moved here from the UK, like, 10 years ago I think? Mitch said he hopped around from LA to New York City, then from New York to…um, well…to here, in sweet ole Portlandia.” She concluded.

As a young woman in her early-twenties, I wasn’t very enthusiastic about this living arrangement coming to life.

The look on my face must have revealed my doubts because my friend chuckled, waving her hands around for emphasis, and quickly clearing the air for me.

“Wait, wait, hold on! Before you tune out—He’s in his late 20’s! Just realizing how weird that sounded…Yeesh, I’d never let you live with some stinky, old, Englishman, you dummy!”

Phew…That sounded much better. It wouldn’t be too different from living with my older brother, then. But that one word, ‘ambiguous’—it wouldn’t leave my mind. Adjectives like that just leave too much to the imagination…well, to mine, anyway. What was Harry being all ambiguous about? My overzealous curiosity pushed me to spiral, conjuring up whatever dirty secrets that would be instant deal-breakers for me…

Did he smoke inside? Did he hate cats? Dogs? Or worse, was he the leader of some creepy murder cult? And if so, would he reserve our living room for their weekly meetings?!

...Would I be spared as a sacrifice because of my not-so-virgin blood?

Was he a fratty douchebag who peaked in college and succumbed to alcoholism?

Was he the type who’d refuse to be my roommate once he saw that I wasn’t a size-00? Would he feel catfished and tell me I looked “bigger in person?” …Not like that sort of thing really mattered to me—I’d just heard that before from a few guys around his age who were surely expecting to be faced with some petite porcelain doll…

Anyway, I guess I just hoped he’d be direct enough to tell me…you know…anything worth mentioning before I’d officially become his roommate. For all I knew, he was probably just a snobby little brat with an annoying, pompous accent.

Amidst my internal ramblings, Sarah added that Harry was a perfectionist.

So, I was right—he was a brat.

I wanted to stay positive, though. Maybe he was just a neat freak, and that’s what Sarah was implying. I mean, that didn’t sound too intolerable, right? And if he was moody, maybe he’d just keep to himself most of the time. I was perfectly fine with that. I tended to keep to myself most of the time, too...though, I never thought of myself as that moody…

Whoever he was, I just crossed my fingers that he wouldn’t have any attitude similarities to Simon Cowell. Just imagining that possibility made my head hurt and my self-confidence plummet. Whatever. That was probably unlikely, right?

Nonetheless, I was desperate for answers. Sarah just shrugged at me and told me to look him up myself if I wanted to know more. And so, I went to work.

Who was Harry Styles? Aye, that was the question…sorry, I’ll continue:

Doing some basic Googling, it seemed that Harry was at least somewhat active on social media…enough that he wasn’t untraceable, at least. This was one of those (very)few times where I was legitimately grateful for the existence of online social platforms. I scrolled and scrolled, and clicked, and scrolled some more…for probably 3 solid hours. Daylight had actually run out by the time I’d realized how badly my corneas were stinging. I’d looked at myself in the black reflection of my phone and could see the popped blood vessels in the whites of my eyes. At least I found what I was searching for.

Luckily for me, his—albeit, ancient—Facebook page looked genuine and free of any red flags. To my dismay, I had to send a friend request and a follow request to his socials in order to actually have access to the profiles. Did that make it obvious that I was in the middle of e-stalking him? Quite likely, yes…But I’d let my excitement and curiosity overtake my sense of self-preservation that night. Tiptoeing around so I could naturally stumble across a morsel of information would’ve been agonizing. My main objective was more important to me than playing mind games with that stranger, Mister Harry Styles. I wanted so badly to free myself from the confines of my childhood home, regardless. Ugh! I was the only one in my friend group who still lived with their parents, and the lack of privacy only weighed heavier on me as time progressed. My dear friend, Sarah, kindly gifted me my long-awaited chance at freedom by sending Harry’s offer my way, and I wanted to run with it.

Yes, I may have been diving face-first into a serious commitment with a complete stranger. Sure, I’ve never lived with a man who wasn’t related to me. And, yeah, I was nervous that this guy was going to reject me because I was younger, eager, and…kinda on the chubby side, to be honest. I know, I know…

My size shouldn’t matter, I knew that, and I still know that. It never truly matters. I knew my situation wasn’t the same as meeting a lousy Tinder date or whatever, but I felt paranoid regardless. All sorts of men have burned me in the past with their shallowness, so I wasn’t about to hold onto a false guise of confidence just for my big break to disappoint me in the end. The age difference felt somewhat significant on top of that. I’d been made aware that Harry was a few years my senior, but it didn't bother me. I hoped it wouldn’t bother him, either…that, and everything else about me, of course…I just had to wait and see.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He accepted my friend/follow requests immediately, and I dove head-first into research (lowkey-stalker) mode. From awkward prom photos and blurry, live music performances, the innocence of his Facebook profile finally put my worries at ease. His most recent profile picture was of him, his mother, and his sister. The candid, selfie-style photo successfully pulled a smile out of me. It’s not a secret that there are wolves in sheep’s clothing out there. But my gut assured me he was safe—that he was a decent guy. The back and forth comments on those family photos were friendly enough for me to assume a close bond between the two siblings, especially. My cheeks started to ache from my incessant smiling and giggling. The pictures were just so cute, I had to message Sarah about it.

[Text Messages]

Me: stfu this guy is adorable 😫

Sarah: HA I’ll have Mitch let him know u think so 😏 ❤️

Me: Oh my god, fr pls don’t

Sarah: Too late 😉

Me: Alrighty 🙂 Brb…gonna go play in traffic 🤪

Sarah: Ur such a drama queen lol

Me: Yep, that’s me 😚

Sarah: xoxo 😘💋

** one week later **

Sarah told me Harry was a bit different than the way he seemed in those family photos. She said he had tattoos and that he was a total frat boy at heart. All shyness aside, “…his true colors shine their brightest when he’s riled up…I’ve seen it. Little crabby pants man-child.” It was safe to say that Sarah was explicitly giving me a warning for Harry’s hot temper. I looked past it at the time because–as a sensitive crybaby myself–I assumed he was just in-tune with his emotions. I saw nothing wrong with that. I actually found it to be quite refreshing. A handsome man who isn’t an emotionless narcissist or a bird-brained himbo? Sounded pretty exciting to me! I looked forward to possibly cohabitating with someone who had a solid connection to their empathetic side.

Also, basically everyone and their mom has a tattoo or a sleeve. Harry wasn’t different or special in that way to me at all. I completely shrugged it off. Who cared? Still curious as all hell, I scrolled around for a link to his Instagram. The link was right there on his Facebook profile.

Nice.

This is just too easy, I thought. I’ve got all this information on this man at my fucking fingertips.

Wow wow wow wow…

So, uh…Needless to say, Harry presented himself as a little less, um…well, I definitely wouldn’t have pegged him as a “mama’s-boy.” I mean, it wasn’t like he was unrecognizably different or anything. Sarah’s depiction of him, although vague, was right on the nose. All of this was meant for research purposes only. But it was objectively true that he was insanely gorgeous. It was just a fact. Pretending like Harry was average in attractiveness…I mean, why would I do that? Why would I lie to myself when the man was just an innocent sight for my sore eyes? That’s all he was…he was cute. Handsome. Adorable. It was as simple as that. I just don’t know why I couldn’t stop coming back to his Instagram time and time again. No matter how paranoid I’d been about accidentally liking a post from like…5 years ago…I still kept clicking on his profile for more.

He had a few videos of him working out—pull ups, bench presses, deadlifts—all of which featured a very sweaty, and very shirtless Harry.

He also had a few group shots with friends. Sometimes there would be a picture of him with his mom or his sister.

The latest posts revealed his plethora of tattoos to my unexpecting eyes. It was obvious that he knew he was attractive. He knew he wasn’t some average Joe. And I swear he had to have known I was looking. Surely he was looking at mine, too. But I was quite conservative and innocent on my instagram profile—similar to the way he looked on his Facebook. I had to admit, the general vibe of this virtual scrapbook was indeed leaning on the fratty side. Sarah was right. He also seemed aloof in some ways. It looked like he preferred small gatherings to larger ones. He didn’t post very often, and it was hardly ever him who’d be taking photos of himself. Someone else would capture Harry’s beauty.

The contrast between the two online profiles distracted the hell out of me. Specifically, I found myself gawking at him in his sweaty workout videos. His defined shoulder muscles quickly caught my attention, my gaze drifting across the defined blades until I ventured lower. The butterfly on his abdomen was both creepy and beautiful. It reminded me of the moth from Silence of the Lambs. Its wings glistened with a layer of moisture as he pulled himself up and down on the steel bar. Beads of sweat made his chestnut curls cling damply to his skin. I salivated watching this man strain and flex continuously; and I felt myself arch my back while I sat, pressing and grinding my clothed core against my mattress.

Jesus…What was happening to me?!

So, uh…the truth is…I thought Harry was really fucking hot. There was no point in lying about it. His hair just looked so soft and silky, and I wanted to run my fingers through it. I wanted to pull at it. I wanted to slide my soapy hands across the art on his body under a steaming hot shower. I wanted to kiss my way down until I was met with what I was 10000% convinced would stand a girthy, 7-inch masterpiece. Oddly specific, I know. But it was obvious he had a gorgeous dick to compliment the rest of him. He just had this vibe—this aura about him. It’s hard to explain. What was worse was how it seemed as if he knew he exuded that ‘big-dick energy,’ too.

So why 7 inches? Well, the dildo I’d been using for a while was about 6 inches—which was very nice, don’t get me wrong. But it just didn’t quite fill me…completely. And so I’d begun to fantasize about how Harry could stuff my holes instead. Fantasy Harry was a motherfucking dreamboat, let me tell ya. I couldn’t stop daydreaming about him—from carrying heavy boxes into the house and helping me unpack, to flat-out forcing me onto all fours, spanking my ass, and fucking me to tears. The fantasies only evolved over time, no matter how hard I tried to push those perverse thoughts away…but to be honest, I didn’t want to…

Nevermind his admittance of vanity, he still had a gentleness about him…hiding somewhere beyond those pale, teal eyes. Or maybe it was my overwhelming attraction to him that cast a rosy hue to how I perceived his character. I guess that was possible. However, I tended to have a good radar for these sorts of things—people, I mean. Harry made me feel excited, secure, comfortable, and very horny. I had no intentions of backing out from signing that lease, and I decided it was time to officially confirm that with him.

My addiction had only worsened from there. I’d begun to shamelessly use his posts as some sort of spank bank for my regular sessions of alone time. My body reacted quite positively to the change in routine. I couldn’t get too into it, though, as I hardly ever had the house to myself. That was one reason why I wanted out of there. Of course, I was still able to have my fun; I just needed to keep quiet. But fucking myself to Harry made staying quiet extremely difficult. It was like masturbating on Hard Mode. I was constantly hyper aware of how I handled my phone with my one free hand—so as to not double-tap. Then there were some photos of him where I’d pinch and zoom in closer, straining my eyes to see if I could make out the outline of his bulge. He wore black athletic shorts a lot of the time, so he was usually protected by the camouflage of the dark fabric. In one of his weight-lifting videos, though, he brought the bar up from the floor up to his knees, then slid it up just below his hips, and—oh my god. The metal pressed so closely to the tops of his thighs that he had his whole package propped up. His shorts tightened perfectly around him. It was so subtle, most people would probably miss it upon first glance. But I didn’t. I saw it. And now I can’t unsee it.

Oh…but he wouldn’t post him with a…or would he…?

Ugh, that cocky little smirk…Fucking asshole.

I hated him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Of course, I felt really dirty for thinking about my new roommate like that.

Oh, yeah…Sorry, uh, I forgot to mention: the two of us had e-signed the lease. I know, I know…but I needed to take the offer! How could I pass up the chance to 1.) move out of my parents’ house, and 2.) move in with a sexy, brooding, successful British man whom I could trust because he was a mutual friend AND…I honestly loved the house. It was old, but not broken or in shambles. The floors were amber hardwood, and the whole house was finished with matching carved, wooden railings and accent wall paneling. Having recently been remodeled, the kitchen was in excellent shape. Appliances were updated. The property was managed by an association which handled the lawn, utilities, and small, miscellaneous amenities. We had our own driveway, a connected two-car garage, and our mailbox was labeled with both of our last names.

The charming little cottage condo was now officially, and contractually, mine and Harry’s. I was ecstatic about it, honestly. We still hadn’t met in person yet, which I knew wasn't the smartest approach, but we’d at least chatted a bit over text and shared some friendly phone calls. His voice was insanely sexy, might I add. I knew he was from the UK, as per Sarah, and so of course I was expecting to be greeted with that accent. What I was not expecting was this slow, deep…rough…

Eek, sorry—um, I wasn’t expecting a voice like that to come out of the speaker, that’s all. Dare I say it, he actually sounded nervous to talk to me on that first call. He’d stutter his words whenever I posed a question, and I could practically hear his boyish smile through my phone. It also took forever for him to end our calls—our goodbyes resembling the never-ending midwestern kind that I was unfortunately very familiar with. They didn’t feel nearly as painful or awkward, though. Listening to his accented mumbles on the other line released a flutter of butterflies in my belly.

I later learned that Harry had performed his own research on me. The only difference was that he’d done most of it a week or so before we’d e-signed the lease together.

It was simple. At work, Mitch mentioned me in a conversation regarding the house Harry had his eye on. He was interested the moment my name was suggested, a gut-feeling making him latch onto me. Once he’d discovered my online profiles by searching through Mitch’s mutuals, his infatuation with me soared. He had a juvenile crush on me from the get-go.

Feeling 17 again, Harry would look for openings in their casual discussions so that he could bring me up. Mitch, being a good sport, spent day after day playing his role as the messenger between the 4 of us. He wished Sarah had just given Harry my phone number straight away instead. If she did, Mitch would’ve been able to eat his lunches in peace. Not only did Mitch lack the answers to those questions, but he’d also only interacted with me a handful of times. He struggled to provide Harry with even the barebones descriptions. How was he supposed to know whether I was a morning or a night person, or what my thermostat preference was, or which days I did my laundry, or how often I had guests over? My private social media accounts offered better information about me than that of the fleeting memories my best friend’s boyfriend stored in his brain.

Harry intended to use somewhat of a surreptitious approach to voicing his curiosity to Mitch. But his sly efforts were useless, as Mitch caught onto his scheme quite easily. There wasn’t anything indicating to me that he was interested in me in any way. Well, not until Sarah let it slip that Harry couldn’t keep my name out of his mouth whenever he spoke to Mitch. But I thought he was just curious…I mean, I was a random, younger woman whom he was going to be living with. It made sense to me that he wanted to know so much about me. I was just as curious.

Casual lunch conversations between the two men had begun to form a particular pattern of redirection. At first, Mitch thought Harry was simply just eager to send in his deposit before anyone else could. The rent cost was a steal for how nice the house was and for the lovely neighborhood it was in. However, he knew all this enthusiasm was directed towards me, in particular, when Harry’s eyes were perma-glued to his screen whilst scrolling through my photos. I didn’t really have that much to scroll through, but apparently Harry spent enough time staring at each individual picture that one may have assumed I had an endless gallery. He’d even taken the liberty of digging further and eventually found my LinkedIn page. I remember how the week before our first phone call, I’d gotten a notification from LinkedIn telling me that someone viewed my profile…I didn't even know why I kept the app on my phone since I was content with my current job. Nevertheless, Harry’s investigation wasn’t as covert as he’d hoped.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry was scrolling around on my LinkedIn profile in the Vol. 6 breakroom. Without thinking, he outwardly deduced to Mitch, “She must be the commitment type,” referring to my short, yet impressive résumé. He promptly followed up his inference by chiming,“She’s lookin’ for something’ serious then, hm?”

As soon as the words escaped his lips, Harry’s nonchalance disappeared.

Mitch stopped in his tracks as Harry decided to drag the comment out further.

“I-I mean, like, for a serious living arrangement, y’know?” Harry squeaked.

Mitch cringed in discomfort as the cracking of Harry’s voice pierced his eardrums. To the man’s dismay, his friend didn’t know how to shut his mouth.

“…Some people can be quite fickle ‘bout it, yeah? And what, she’s 24? Surely she’s been disappointed by dozens of pricks by now. Must be dying for someone she can actually rely on, dontcha think?”

Mitch pursed his lips and half-heartedly agreed, “Mhm, probably sick of the fear-of-commitment type.”

Harry nodded and pulled at his lip with his thumb and forefinger. He then continued to ramble on.

“Now tha’ I’m edging on 30…I dunno…’guess I’m just looking—” He paused to clear his throat and scratch his nose with his knuckle. He looked considerably anxious. “—looking forward to, uh, commitments, and all tha’.”

Mitch’s eyes narrowed towards his friend who kept fidgeting with his hands on top of the table and dodging all eye contact. He found Harry’s clumsiness entertaining. He wanted to see how long he could get him to chase his tail. Instigating, Mitch said,“Yeah…So, uh, did you find anything else interesting about her?”

Harry lifted his head up to meet with the other man’s suspecting stare.

“Huh? Well, y-yes, definitely! ‘Course I did. She, uh…well, she’s—”

“—She’s a pretty girl…yeah, H?” Mitch interrupted, cutting him off from his stuttering. Harry swallowed dryly in response. At that point, it seemed to him that Mitch had finally picked up on his crush.

“Uhm, yeah…yeah, I think she is. Quite lovely, now that y’mention it.” His eyes blinked down at the zoomed image of me in a bridesmaid’s dress displayed on his clutched phone screen. Mitch patted Harry’s shoulder, heartily laughing at the glassy-eyed brunette in front of him.

Except, Harry wasn’t laughing. The shells of his ears turned red hot and his knee bobbed awkwardly under the table, unintentionally knocking on the hard surface a few times.

“Ah! Fuck.” He cursed under his breath, holding his nervous knee down.

“Harry, it’s ok if you have a lil crush on her...” Mitch assured him. Harry gnawed on the inside of his lip as Mitch kept on. “…God, y’know, I haven’t seen you down this bad since…well, since Cam, I think...”

Harry gulped at the mention of the woman’s name…the woman who broke his heart several years earlier. His discomfort with the subject was apparent to his friend who then swiftly rephrased. “Shit…Sorry…I just mean, like, you’ve got heart-eyes for a girl you’ve never even met. You don’t know her. She doesn’t know you…”

Harry stayed silent.

“…Honestly, I’m surprised. ‘Used to you always going for the Barbie-type. It’s nice to see you’re, uh, broadening your horizons, hm?” He smirked and drew an exaggerated hourglass in the air with his hands.

Harry furrowed his eyebrows and got defensive at the suggestive implication. “Besides having dated all women, I’ve never had a type, Mitchell.” He scoffed. “And another thing—” Harry quipped, his pupils swallowing the soft green of his irises. Mitch, unintimidated, seemed quite amused by his friend’s sensitive temper.

“—You shouldn’t talk about her like tha’. Inn’ she close with Sarah?! That’s your girlfriend’s best friend. ‘S fucked up.”

Mitch nodded in agreement with a dismissing chuckle. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Sarah’s known her for years, but I was just messing with you, man. Relax.”

The men were quiet for a few moments before Mitch sent a warning Harry’s way.“Don’t fuck around with her, ok? ‘less you’re looking to mop up the poor girl’s tears every day. You’re signing a 3-year lease, remember? Try not to think with the wrong head.”

Harry glared at Mitch.

Wha—mopping up tears?! That’s a bit dramatic…

Contrary to Mitch’s assumptions, Harry wasn’t planning to create an uncomfortable living space. That’s the last thing he wanted. Sure, he was attracted to me and felt little butterflies fluttering in his belly when he read my posts and my texts. So what?! That’s his business if he had a teeny tiny crush on his potential housemate. It felt like Mitch was deliberately egging him on, and that’s precisely how the conversation escalated.

“What—? What are you going on about?” His voice strained to release the words. Mitch was done beating around the bush—he realized how the aftermath of Harry’s pursuit of me could end with lots of crying on my part; and worst of all, a very angry Sarah Jones. He wanted to avoid that outcome as much as possible.

“H, you’re stalking her Facebook and shit—”

“—Oi! ’S not like tha’! I just wanna know who I’m asking to move in w’me!”

“Ok, well I’m pretty sure you don’t keep looking through all her photos because you wanna know how good she is about washing the dishes.”

“You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about…” Harry huffed. “…’Sides, you know it takes me a bit to get comfortable with people. Not to mention, I've never had a bloody roommate befo’, either.”

He was telling the truth—omitting some personal details in the process, but that didn’t matter. Not to Harry, at least. He knew Mitch was terrible at keeping secrets and that Sarah would be in the know before he could even finish a confession. There was no way he was going to risk jeopardizing such a safe and pleasant option with sharing his feelings so soon.

“Okay…” Mitch trails off. The air in the room was still and it made him uneasy. Harry scratched the shadow of stubble adorning his jaw. His impulsive mouth thankfully filled the silence that was suffocating them previously. As grown men and friends, the boys seemed to act like stubborn adolescents when it came to women—specifically, when it came to Harry and women.

“Um…so, you said you’ve met her before, yeah?” Harry couldn’t let it go.

Mitch drank from his water bottle and gave Harry the thumb’s up with his free hand.

“Then uh, why don’t you tell me ‘bout her? Like…Wha’s she like in person…?” Mitch took a deep breath and screwed the cap back onto the bottle. He then rubbed his thumb and forefinger against his chin mockingly. It was like Mitch was searching for ways to further tease Harry about his crush. Harry chose to ignore it this time.

Despite lacking approval in Harry’s newfound love-interest, Mitch offered him his honest knowledge anyway.“Hmm…well, I first met her at Sarah’s birthday party a few years back…She was nice, just a little on the quiet side. Seemed like she was holding herself back in that way, you know?”

The sincerity of his recollection shocked Harry. He was expecting to be turned down or mocked once again—he was even planning in his head what to send me via DM to further get to know me, assuming Mitch would’ve ended the conversation by that point. Luckily, he was mistaken.

“I remember her, like, tearing up at a picture of Lexi’s daughter. I thought that was a bit dramatic—the crying, I mean—but, I guess she hadn’t seen Lexi and her baby in almost a year or something..? I dunno…”

Harry frowned, empathizing with my reaction. It broke his heart whenever he couldn’t see his godchildren for long stretches of time, too. Mitch then tapped his fingertips against the table, traveling deeper into his memory to provide more details for Harry.

“…I’d say she’s sensitive in general, though. Sar told me how she’s always the one crying at movies, crying’ in arguments…cries whenever she sees a cat video on TikTok. Kind of a hot-mess, if you ask me…”

Harry’s lips twitched into a smile imagining my expressive emotions.

“...OH!” Mitch clapped his hands and chuckled before proceeding.

“She’s got this laugh that’s, uh, it’s like low-key really loud. Like, sometimes it’ll be this crazy wheeze and then, right away, she’s as red as a fuckin’ tomato. Sarah thinks it’s hilarious and they’ll basically laugh at each other for an hour. But yeah, you can tell she gets all weird and embarrassed after she laughs, though—and she apologizes for everything, all the time. Always sayin’ sorry when she literally didn’t do anything. I swear, dude…Someone could knock her onto her ass and she’d be the one to apologize. Wait, I think she’s from somewhere in the Midwest—like the northern nicey-nice states, y’know, so maybe it’s that? I’m not sure.”

“That’s…kinda cute.” Harry mumbled, his cheeks turning rosy.

Mitch grinned. “Oh, you think so?” A pink hue then washed over Harry’s skin entirely and he bashfully ran his hand through his loose curls. “Yeah, she seems quite lovely—I mean…”Harry stumbled over his admiration, trying his best to sound cool and detached. He failed miserably.

“…I-I dunno…Jus’ forget it.” He then buried his face in his hands, shamefully admitting defeat.

Mitch rolled his eyes and chuckled at his lovelorn friend. He guessed Harry was only randomly feeling things for me because he’s lived in a bachelor’s paradise for too long. It was also a known fact that he’d only have short flings once every blue moon. Those flings have become fewer and farther between as of late. Romance and commitment weren’t really Harry’s forte.

It’s not that he didn’t want a partner, but that he viewed the whole relationship-building process to be strenuous and stressful. Life and work were already difficult enough to balance. And so, for the past few years, Harry let himself be completely occupied by his job at Vol. 6. The go-to excuse to his friends (and especially his mother) for not settling down yet was that he carried a heavy workload, and he didn’t want to be an absent partner because of it. He’d end those conversations with a snippy “‘S as simple as that” phrase.

Even so, Harry was praying to God in the privacy of his lonely bedroom that he’d have the chance to settle down soon. All his adult life, he’d aspired to meet ‘the one’ and for him to give that one all his love and all his babies—a hopeless, hungry romantic Harry was. Dreams like these passed through his subconscious more frequently the more he aged. The British businessman was famished, desperate for love and connection.

Dating around was disappointing and redundant, and one-night-stands made him feel gross. He wasn’t simply a dumb, horny teenager anymore, he wasn’t even much of a dumb hornball of a man in his early adult years. Nay. He always kept an underlying craving for passion and compatibility. Harry was going to enter his 30’s in less than a year and he desired more than lackluster, meaningless sex with boring strangers. He needed more than arm candy. He needed more than a weak flame. He longed for an all-encompassing wildfire to eat away at his flesh from the inside out. He wanted to feel someone’s presence consume him.

Recently, Harry’s dreaming intuition had been signaling to him that he wouldn’t have to wait much longer to finally find his person. He was so needy for someone to genuinely love, and he felt overwhelmingly drawn to me from the very start—to my smile, my innocence, and my bleeding heart that matched his own. My lucky arrival into his life had only increased his determination towards lifelong romantic and sexual fulfillment. He just knew.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The time had come for us to meet in person. We’d gone out for drinks with Mitch and Sarah one weekend. It was a safe choice. This way, no one would feel uncomfortable, left out, or excluded. But in all honesty, it felt more like a double-date than a friendly gathering at a local bar.

I had been somewhat apprehensive about drinking around Harry knowing how I was a bit of a flirty(slutty) drunk. All it took was 1.5 cocktails for me to be a giggling, cock-hungry devil woman. Sarah knew this about me. She’d witnessed my nymphomania from the sidelines whenever we’d go out for a girls’ night. Yet, this knowledge did nothing to prevent her from ordering the 4 of us tequila shots before I’d even stepped into the establishment.

Of course, I was late—I’m late to everything. But that night, it was different. I was on the verge of a mental breakdown with hangers and loose clothes strewn across my bed and crumpled in clumps on the floor. Even my mother felt the need to knock on my door after one of my particularly loud outbursts of frustration—making sure I wasn’t actually in pain. I was fine. I just needed to look my absolute-fucking-best when I met my dream guy face-to-face for the first time! Was that such a crime to try and accomplish?!

My mom didn’t get it.

I’d finally slipped into a pair of high-waisted, dark wash jeans that made my ass look like a big, juicy peach, and a red, ruffled peplum-blouse that deliciously hugged my curves—my large breasts, especially. I topped it off with a tin cup choker and a pair of black, knee-high, heeled leather boots. My self-confidence switched from plummeting to soaring once I’d done a final mirror check on my way out the door.

I knew I had the ability to somewhat ‘make an entrance’ (in dim lighting, at least). However, as soon as Harry and I locked eyes, I saw his mouth hanging open as if I was an A-List celebrity approaching him. My stomach glittered with butterflies at witnessing the effects of my gorgeously buxom appearance. The high-pitched ring of Sarah’s playful wolf-whistle pulled me back to reality.

There he was. He was real. And he was even hotter than I thought he was. Yet, it was him whose features reacted to me with lusty enchantment.

His pupils were devouring me as we stood in a lull. My hand extended towards him for a cordial handshake. But as his large hand gripped mine, he pulled me into his chest for a hug—planting a soft kiss on my cheek. What was even more unexpected was how natural it felt to have his arms around me. The four of us then did a few rounds of shots that night. As a (heavy-weighted) lightweight, I was giggling like crazy after the first two throws. Harry laughed every time I did, and vice-versa, and so we’d run out of breath repetitively—basically falling to the floor on top of each other. We looked like a goofy, touchy couple out on a double date, but we were completely ignoring the other couple. Sarah found our loopy mingling to be quite entertaining, as did Mitch. They both had intimate knowledge the other didn’t. The night eventually wound down and the snoozy (actual)couple left for home via car service. I definitely wasn’t sober enough to drive, either. Thinking back, I suddenly remember sharing a private moment with Harry around that time. Nothing R-rated. Not even PG-13, really.

Our friends had already parted ways, leaving the two of us drunk and cozy at a corner-table in the back of the bar. He ordered us some ice water, of which I’d gratefully accepted. I was mid-gulp when I felt his fingers tuck a section of my hair behind my ear. In hindsight, that was a cheesy, 90’s romcom thing for him to do. However, it felt so gentle and sweet in the moment, I didn’t care. My eyes blinked up at him, my mouth occupied with chilled fluids, and he smiled dreamily down at me. Swallowing and setting my glass down, a soft giggle escaped my lips.

“You’re even prettier in person, y’know.” Harry drawled. More light laughter came out of me before I returned the compliment. “Mmm, you too, Mr. Styles.” His cheeks dimpled and he shook his head at me. “Tha’s cute, but I’m serious.”

I raised my eyebrows at his accusation. “So am I.” My arms folded over my chest in playful defiance. We sat there for a few beats, deeply drinking each other in as if the other person was the bartender’s last call. Harry broke the trance first. “Need t’get ya home, love.” His hand moved to cover mine on the tabletop. Out of instinct, my glassy eyes followed his touch. He was cold, clammy even, yet I could feel my skin flush red-hot in retaliation.

Harry seemed hardly intoxicated or loopy anymore. He had more to drink than me, for sure. However, I had to hold onto him for stability in order to exit the building. Leaving the bar that night gave me the same satisfaction as going home after an amazing first date. I hadn’t met a guy so instantly enamored by my presence since high school…back when I was a size 8! As a size 16 in my early twenties, I’d gotten used to men talking over me and looking right through me. There was no reason for them to treat me that way. I’d always been told that I’m the nicest person in the world—that I was beautiful and hilarious and passionate and brilliant. None of that mattered, though. I was either met with pure indifference or blatant, manipulative narcissism from the opposite sex. But Harry was the diamond in the rough. He treated me better than just decently. He made me feel like a person deserving of much more than the bare minimum—more than just mere kindness—worth love, attention, effort, adoration, and affection. I hadn’t felt that in a long time…if ever.

And don’t worry, neither of us drove home. Harry ordered an Uber for me and rode along so that he could make sure I got inside my parents’ house safely—escorting me to the door like a proper gentleman would. I’d only really experienced that kind of ‘chivalry’ once or twice before. Not that every guy I’ve dated was a complete asshole to me, but the bare minimum was certainly a chore for some…It was refreshing to be treated so delicately—by someone who hardly knew me, to boot.

That entire first impression…it was a solid confirmation for me.

I liked Harry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry and I have grown to be quite friendly with one another since we first met a little over a year ago. However, we sure as hell didn’t start out that way—yeah, the amazing time at the bar was a false first impression. Sure, Harry would still have his moments where he was genuinely caring and gentle. But for the most part, his demeanor changed into that of an antagonistic older brother. So, you could say the initial acquaintanceship was tense.

For starters, we had that 5 year age-gap; and so Harry used that as a pass to be an arrogant, cynical, pretentious know-it-all. It was like he always needed to be the one and only expert on everything. And I’m certain he’s always gotten off on every rare instance where I’ve shown to be naive. Yelling-matches would occur every so often for months as both of us are sensitive hot-heads. We ended that streak of arguing when Harry’s big mouth had inevitably put me in tears. I think it was around the 6-month mark (of living together) when it happened. What’s silly is how his comment didn’t even deserve my dramatics, really. I’d already been in a piss-poor mood that night, and I’m just a crybaby in general. So you betcha any joke about me and my body, no matter how innocent the intentions behind it, throws just enough of a punch to unleash the hysterics.

I was in our living room watching YouTube when Harry came home from work. The video on the TV had pulled a full-blown guffaw out of me a minute or so before the door opened—which felt like a wave of relief after a long, miserable day at my job. I typically would spend more of my time enclosed in my bedroom, but I guess I just felt like switching things up that day. Besides, Harry acted as if he owned the whole goddamn place. The house was 50% mine, too (per our rental agreement). I had every right to venture away from my compact sleeping quarters for the evening. There was still a high probability that Harry would be a grump about it.

Fucking whatever.

If I wanted to enjoy our shared entertainment room, then I was gonna fucking enjoy it! My confidence was torn out from underneath me the moment that prick made his entrance. The door swung open, and there he was—white-collared, spotless, and as smug as ever. He released a generous sigh, an attempt at drawing my attention, but I refused to acknowledge his homecoming. What? Did he want a freaking ‘welcome home, honey’ from me or something?! Being a part of Harry’s House’s Greeting Committee wasn’t in the fine print of our lease. Plus, the last time I kindly acknowledged him after work, he brutally mocked me.

[“Hi!!!” I exclaimed with a sweet smile.

He raised an eyebrow as he slipped his shoes off. “Uh, hello.”

I was in the middle of stowing the last of the groceries away. I’d been in a pretty good mood that afternoon. I don’t know why or what made me so excited for Harry to come home, but I just was. Typically, I wouldn’t be keen on asking him to talk about his day. But, again, I was just feeling good. I didn’t understand why that deserved such an adverse response from the man.

“How was your day?! Oh yeah, you had that big meeting, or whatever, right?”

“Mhmm.” He muttered, unbuttoning the wrist cuffs of his shirt and rolling the sleeves up to his shoulders.

I grinned brightly at him and opened the fridge. The way Harry looked with his stuffy work clothes always made me melt. He kept his tattoos well-hidden, but simply pulling his sleeves back would reveal the art…and that was something he’d do as soon as he got home. The action was so small and innocent, but witnessing it so closely—whilst simultaneously inhaling the faint notes of his expensive cologne—sent rushes of heat down to my core. He had no idea how hot he was when he did that…actually, he probably knew exactly how hot he was…little shit…

“So…Did your presentation go ok?”

“Uh, yeah, ‘went fine. It was fine...glad to be home, though.” Harry sighed, but I saw him fighting a smile once I’d turned around to face him.

“Oh? Just fine?” Judging by his subtle cheekiness, I had thought he had some news to tell me. It just seemed that way to me, at least. Or maybe that he was hiding something, or about to make a joke. My latter suspicion was quickly confirmed as true.

“I dunno…It went well, I guess…couldn’t wait to get home...” Why was he smirking at me?

I giggled and continued the banter.

“What are you being so modest about? I’m sure the reps at Gucci fell in love with the designs.”

Harry slipped onto one of the bar stools and watched me unpack the remainder of paper bags from behind the kitchen island. He leaned back against the seat’s backing with his arms folded and resting comfortably atop his abdomen. After making silent eye contact for a moment, I resorted to laughing lightheartedly and raising my eyebrows at the man.

“Eh?”

Harry just smirked.

I’d begun to fold up the empty paper bags. My cheeks were definitely blushed pink, reacting sheepishly to his stare. To conceal my submissive appearance, I reached up—pushing up onto my tiptoes—to stack the paper bags above the refrigerator. It didn’t matter that my back was facing him. I could still feel his eyes following my every move. Why did he have to intimidate me so much?

“Fine, be that way. Just so you know, I bought cookies for us, but now I'm not gonna share!”

“Oh really?” He hummed, leaning up to rest his forearms on the counter.

Scoffing, I stepped forward to face him from the other side of the island and grabbed onto the edge of the countertop. My upper half was angled towards him so that I could talk more directly to him.

“Really, really.” I purred, not realizing my voice would sound so erotic. Instead of backtracking, I just ran with it. Harry’s pupils expanded much like a feline’s when they’re hunting their prey.

But he just sat there smirking at me. My pleasant mood wasn’t to be ruined by his teasing. I wasn’t going to allow it. I could play, too, Styles.

“What kind of cookies did you get us, hm?” His low, British drawl sent chills down my back.

“Oreos.” I didn’t sink into that ‘subspace’ as they call it. Not yet.

Harry basically moaned a hum out in approval. I swallowed, still combating my natural instinct to surrender like a desperate little puppy. This was getting more difficult.

“You know those are my favorite, don’t you?”

I blinked. “Uh huh.”

“I bet you got’em just f’me…you weren’t gettin’ them for us...” He paused for a moment. “…were you, sweet girl?”

“I…maybe…” I squeaked, earning Harry’s immediate amusement.

“I’m gonna take a guess at something real quick, a‘right, doll?”

“Ok…” He was so close to me. I was just thankful I’d been chewing gum at the time…

“Are you ovulating right now? Is that why you’re being so doting and domestic?”

My face fell.

“Wha—Excuse me?!” I stepped back from the counter and put my hands on my hips. What kind of guessing game was that?! Who even asks that?!

In the most annoying way, Harry stood up from his stool and copied my stance. He was using far too much sass and flamboyance to be accurate, though. I did not look like that…

“Oh, don’t you give me that look, sweetheart.” Harry chuckled, walking over to me. He then reached his long index finger up to *boop* the tip of my nose. I huffed in response. The breaking point was nearing closer with every word he’d spoken. But submission was not an option.

I knew that he knew. He had to have known. He must have caught onto my shyness, saw how much he made me blush, sensed how bratty I’d become whenever he teased me. I was putty in his hands.

“Awe, You’re cute…” He mumbled under his breath. His hand rose to my shoulder and he twirled a lock of my hair around his finger.

I was furious. It was obvious he was just trying to rile me up. That’s all this was…reaction bait.

“Harry…—”

“—I’m just sayin’, one might think you were trying to sweet talk me into letting you milk me dry and put a baby in ya. I’m sure you’re just as fertile as you look, aren’t you, babe?” He grinned and drummed his rings back against the marble counter, now leaning back all cockily.

There it was again—that smug little smirk on his stupid, perfect, dimpled face. What did he mean by, “as fertile as I look?!” God, a woman can’t be mean or nice without a man having some bullshit to say about it. Whatever. I told myself at that moment that the next man who dared to comment on my missing smile would be a dead one.

I gave him a dirty look and hustled my ass up the stairs to my room. Thankfully, I was finished putting all the groceries away. There was no reason for me to stick around playing this silly game with Harry. As I was making my way up, he called out to me, “I may have a high sperm count, but I’m not quite ready to be a daddy, yet, love!”

“Shut up!” I groaned and slammed my door shut. I think I could still hear him snickering to himself downstairs. Such a dick. Also, how the hell did he know I was ovulating..?! Ugh!

Oh, and Harry wasn’t even finished with his jokes yet, because he’d leapt up the steps in long strides and knocked on my door…just 5 minutes later. I opened it, having then changed into a crop top and pajama shorts in the meantime. Not only was my round ass falling out of the shorts, but my heavy, unsupported tits were also threatening to peak out from the bottom hem of my shirt.

Typically, I wouldn’t want to be caught dead wearing that kind of getup in front of anyone. However, I thought I looked deliciously thick and absolutely, downright-fuckable that night. Of course I’d been aware of this, as well. And so I used my innate feminine sexuality to my advantage. As soon as I opened the door, Harry’s eyes (unsurprisingly) flickered back and forth between my chest and my face. How classy… I took the liberty of folding my arms together in front of me to feign some modesty.

Looking back on it now, I definitely watched a similar scene in porn...

He just stood there at my door, all of a sudden at a loss for words. I wish that silence would have lasted longer. It took only a few seconds before he was flashing me his signature dimpled smirk again. He then mirrored my body language and leaned his shoulder against the doorframe.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” He teased, plucking at the hem of the shirt sleeve that hung loosely past my shoulder.

My back straightened up, an attempt at asserting a smidge of self-confidence amidst my pink cheeks and pounding pulse.

“What do you want, Harry?” I tried to act annoyed, but I think I sounded too timid…and to be honest, the idea of Harry filling me up with his cum had caused my panties to dampen significantly. They were surely leaking through my shorts, but fortunately my thighs were meaty enough to hide it.

“Hmm…No bra? Tha’s interesting…” I could tell he lowered his canter when he said that, but I still heard him.

“Gross, you pervert.” I spat, squeezing my arms closer against my chest.

“Ay, hold on, little miss sunshine. What’s with the bratty attitude, huh?”

“Shut up, mister big loads. Go impregnate a sock.” My expressive irritability only further inflated his ego.

“Hmm, I’ve gotta say, tha’s tempting, but…I wouldn’t wanna make you jealous.” I wanted to scream.

“Ugh! Get out of my room!” I pushed at the door, but Harry held it open with his hand—and there was no way I could win against him in that impossible match of strength.

“First of all, I’m not in your room.”

I closed my eyes and tried to control my breathing.

“Second,” he held his finger up. “Would you like f’me to order us some dinner?”

I huffed. “What I’d like is for you to leave.”

He shook his head and tsk’d in response. “Mm-mm, tha’s not what I asked.”

My teeth clenched at his audacious snark.

“I don’t care, Harry.”

His rings then tapped awkwardly against the smooth wood.

“Ah…” he sighed with his head bowed. “…Look, I’m sorry. I was just tryin’ to mess with you...I didn’t mean to make you feel embarrassed…”

Even though I couldn’t stand him, I’d begun to feel my heart soften at his puppy-eyed expression. Why did he have to be so irritating and so adorable at the same time?! Just choose one!

Hmph…whatever.

“…Well, I know you’re hungry…I’ll pay…?”

I sighed and chewed at my lip. I was starving…

His boyish apology was reluctantly accepted, but I made a point out of picking something expensive. He could afford it.

We ate and watched a movie on the couch together. To my surprise, there were no more stupid comments coming out of his mouth for the rest of the evening. Impressive. I noticed his eyes turned basically black. It wasnt like we had all the lights off; plus, it was August—the sun didn’t set completely until 9pm. I felt those pupils following me.

It was apparent that Harry found me attractive. That night he certainly did. Or maybe he was just high? Either way, after he’d pointed out my lack of undergarments, I decided to brush him off as simply horny. At least that was the best explanation I could come up with for all the sneaky eye-fucking. There was no way I could’ve convinced myself he was actually giving me that kind of attention consciously…

After we’d finished eating, he went out of his way to fetch me a blanket(our good one, no less) and then proceeded to drape it around my back and shoulders, tucking me in as if he’d done it a million times before. Look who’s the doting one now, Styles!

I also remember how he basically bolted for the bathroom and took a shower as the film wrapped up with the end credits…Ok, ok…so, I may have purposefully bent over in those shorts while cleaning up the coffee table…but surely he just had a long day and was desperate for a hot shower…Surely.]

It’s safe to say that I toned down the ‘domestic’ part of me from that point on. Even though Harry just likes to get my goat, I still wanted to make it more difficult for him to have a reason to tease me. The night when our door to the garage swung open, his voice echoed through the house with such vigor that it sent yucky chills down my spine. Oh, the irony...

“Well, shit—Mitch wasn’t kiddin’ ‘bout y’laugh being loud as’ell! ‘Could hear ya from the driveway!”

This man survived off of my agitation, I swear. I shifted in my seat to face him and my eyes narrowed at the sight of his stupid, cocky face. I’ve always felt embarrassed about my somewhat-loud, slightly obnoxious laugh—and the thought that it’s been a main point of discussion between Harry and Mitch (and who knows who else) stung even worse.

It’s fine. Don’t listen to him. Don’t react. Just…breathe…

“Hi, Harry.” My intonation was as unimpressed as I could make it sound. He of course snorted at my brattiness, slipping his shoes off and tossing his wallet and keys onto the kitchen counter before taking long-legged strides in my direction.

“Good evening, doll.”

I huffed and waved my hand half-assedly. Something that drove me mad was how he was fiercely antagonistic towards me, and he insisted upon giving me little pet names. I knew he was just teasing me. That’s why I made sure to always swallow my bashful giggles whenever he said them. My subby-ness was not to be easily accessible anymore.

“So, what’s this, hm? Grown tired of hiding from me all the time?” He casually gestured to me with his flat, open palm.

I exhaled through my nose in aggravation as he plopped abruptly down onto the couch—his arm propped up next to him and one leg resting on the opposite knee. His draping arm was stretched out towards me. I refused to take part in Harry’s game at that time, and so I returned his question with silence. But it didn’t even matter because he could tell I was holding my anger in.

“Oh, I get it. It’s some sort of opposite day or summat.”

He stretched his fingers closer to where my head was resting on the back of the couch. They wrapped themselves around a smooth lock of my hair and twirled it continuously. This man thought it was absolutely hilarious to get even the faintest reaction out of me. Harry was generally the ‘touchy’ type of person when he’s around those he’s comfortable with. It made me feel special whenever he went out of his way to be affectionate towards me because…well, I had a crush on him for a while. And so, at first, I naively understood those soft touches as hints for his deeper feelings. At least that’s how I perceived things privately. But the more time I’d spent living with him, the more I had to come to terms with the fact that he was out of my league, and that he probably only viewed me as a little sister. My mind convinced me that Harry just enjoyed taking advantage of my innate submissiveness. He would never be attracted to someone like me. In order to protect my heart from the shattering effects of rejection, I chose to play into the little sister dynamic and behave as though Harry Styles was just a stupid fucking boy, and nothing more.

My behavior shift from the bashful sweetheart to the indifferent recluse somehow drew him closer to me anyway. I was so fucking pissed. I was sick of his games! Most of all, I hated Harry Styles. I hated him, and I hated his wandering hands, and his cockiness, and his giant ego.

My hair is not a toy, and I am not a doll reserved for Harry’s cruel amusement. And yet I kept living with all these antics because I…

…Because I liked his attention…honestly, I loved his attention. I’ll admit it! There was no way he could ever find that out, though!

That night when he (once again) twisted a piece of my hair around his long fingers, I pretended it didn’t make my heart flutter. My face stayed emotionless. It had truly been an award-winning performance by yours truly. To an outsider, this scene would’ve looked as if Harry and I were a bickering couple. They’d probably assume I was just a crabby girlfriend punishing her partner with the silent treatment. To be honest, that’s what it felt like for a second before I caught myself leaning into his gentle contact. I smacked his hand away from my hair and he just smiled at me.

Ugh!

He smiled at me, and then he poked my cheek with his index finger. I swear to God, my skin was on fire.

“So what’s next on the opposite day schedule? ‘You gonna go for a run?” Harry snickered and let out an amused sigh. “That would be the shock of the century, wouldn’t it?!”

He kept laughing at his juvenile dig. I let out a weak scoff, unable to swallow my pride that time. The air in the room was stale. Harry faced the television screen and sunk further back into the cushions. I sat there in mopey silence.

So I live a sedentary lifestyle, so what? And yes, I’m overweight—I’ve been struggling with my body my entire life, so there’s no need for anyone to give me a reminder. Regardless of the obvious and regardless of Harry’s ‘opposite day’ joke, I wasn’t in the right mindset to just brush it off…not that night. Starting a fight wasn’t the route I wanted to take either. I was exhausted. A retreat into solitude felt like my best option.

But, God…why did he have to fucking say that?

My bottom lip quivered and I was unable to blink back the tears for a moment longer. Every last ounce of patience I had left was dried up at this point. My long hair shielded my face whilst I bowed and dabbed my dripping eyelashes with my sleeves. Noticing the lack of verbal retort from me, Harry turned his head back in my direction. His breath hitched in his throat and his sage irises washed over to stormy blue.

“Oh, shit…” he muttered.

I sniffled and got up from the couch, making a beeline for the privacy of my bedroom. He never meant to make me cry. It was obvious Harry was just poking fun at me, but words can still hurt regardless of the speaker’s intent. It was too late for him to consider that now. Harry quickly jumped in front of me. He leapt into action so fast that I was physically startled back against my bare heels.

“What the fuck, Harry? Move!” I whined frustratedly at the man as he stood there with similarly glossy eyes.

Then he reached out and held my shoulders in his strong hands. His thumbs did that rubbing thing that most people only do when comforting their loved ones. Back then, I wished so badly that the simple gesture hadn’t sent such soothing goosebumps down my arms. It was so infuriating how this man held that kind of power over me.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that, love. Please don’t cry. I—”

I gritted my teeth at his pity.

“—why? Are my big, fat tears too loud?! Or are you worried I’m so huge that I’ll get stuck, and my arms and legs will burst out of the fucking house?!”

Harry’s brows furrowed at my imagery. “Uh, wait—are you trying to reference…Alice in Wonderland—”

“—ALSO! Last time I checked, YOU were the one who ate all the cookies last night—YOU and your RABBIT TEETH fucking decimated my Oreos! So why don’t you go for a fucking run!”

Harry seemed amused with that one. His stupid dimples popped out at me and I was fed up.

“Get out of my way!”

I pushed against his chest, but he stood firmly on the carpet in front of the stairs. I remember fighting my urge to stomp my feet like a toddler. He wasn’t letting me retreat. He wouldn’t get out of my fucking FACE!

“I know you want to yell at me, so do it.”

“No, I don’t want to yell at you! I want you to move so I can go to my room!”

“Cmon, love. Talk to me…Give me all y’got. I know you have it in ya.”

“MOVE!”

Then he laughed. Why? Because I actually stomped my fucking foot—just like how I’d previously forbade myself to. And I’m sure the performance was quite entertaining for him.

“Don’t you throw a tantrum on me, sweet girl. Use your words!”

“You’re such a fucking smartass.”

“Oi, don’t talk about my ass like that! I’ll have you know, it’s quite dumb!” He grinned.

Un-fucking-believable. I can’t believe that got me to crack a smile. Harry instantly mirrored my surrendering, his hands drifting down from my shoulders to my elbows. My arms were crossed over my chest, but he wiggled them loose.

“YES! There’s that pretty smile…”

I huffed and groaned, feeling like a total child.

“…Don’t you be teasing me for my teeth—Y’look like a bunny just like me, babe.”

I giggled and playfully shoved his chest. “I do not!”

“Uh-huh! You definitely do!”

My hand rose up to cover my mouth and Harry just laughed at me. Lowering himself closer to my height, he *booped* my nose which caused me to scrunch it up in response.

“Aww, you are just a lil’ bunny, aren’t you?”

I squirmed and whined, annoyed as all hell with his patronizing.

“Don’t you start stomping your feet again, sweet Bunny. You’re better than that!”

I couldn’t help myself from just letting my guard all the way down at that moment. Inhaling deeply, I circled my arms around Harry’s middle and buried my face against his chest.

“Sorry…I just want us to get along, H.” My small voice was muffled against his shirt.

Harry frowned and wrapped his arms around me, reciprocating my surrendering embrace. My ear was pressed against his chest. There was a strong beat beyond his hard surface–my head pulsed with each fierce thump. That was the closest we’d ever been to each other. One of his hands slid up to my hair and combed through it.

“I do, too…I’m sorry.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sharing a house was less expensive for both of us 20-somethings, and rent has thankfully stayed reasonable and affordable since we two moved in a couple of years ago. I’m happy in my living space with my roommate. It’s a platonic situation between me and Harry—regardless of what family and friends want to believe. And I doubt it will ever venture beyond friendship any time soon. It can’t. Things are perfect right now…exactly the way they are. I keep my little fantasies to myself within the privacy of my bedroom. Harry can never know.

I’ve been single for a while. It’s possible that my holes are the tightest they’ve ever been, and that it might feel like I’m losing my virginity again whenever I do get some dick. So what, sometimes I think about what would happen if I just accidentally sent a racy photo to Harry…

…Whether he’d keep it and pretend he never saw it (as a way to be gentlemanly)…if he’d be disgusted and laugh at my body…or if he’d turn feral like I hope he would, bursting through my bedroom door and finally taking all that I’ve unconsciously reserved for him…

Don’t fret, my pet — smut will come in part 2 😈

Writer’s Notes: Hi, everyone🥰 Phew…well, there she is! Part 1! Thought I’d celebrate my birthday today by posting my first H piece💕 I’ll start off by saying…I’m kind of an obsessive perfectionist when it comes to my writing…so I won’t be super speedy when posting updates on my work, as I really want to be certain that I’m posting exactly what I want you to read. I know that other content creators on here are excellent at keeping a quick, reliable posting schedule—and I will be trying my best to do the same(I hope to make it in the same ballpark as them, at least). However, please be patient with me💕🙏🏻 💕 I have devoted a lot of time, love, and creativity into my work just so that I can share it online with strangers for free. I greatly appreciate any and all support, suggestions, criticism, questions, etc., so please don’t hesitate to comment or send me messages/asks. (Anons are welcome!) I’ve been working on this piece for a while now and I’d really like to get your feedback on it. If you would like to be tagged in future updates/parts, please let me know!!!👏🏻💗👏🏻🩷👏🏻💖 👏🏻

xoxo ~ Regan 😘💕

@victoria-styles @harrystylessmuttyfics @therealhousewifeofharrystyles

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beesmygod · 20 days

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What's your take, if you have one, on the cut moon presence boss on the lake of mud?

as always, i dont know. i thought i didn't really have much to say but the more i typed the more i Realized. but i still don't really know lol. this is really image heavy, which made it long, so most of it is under a readmore.

e: hello bea from the future here. hey. this gave me so much to chew on for the next section in a shockingly positive direction. thank you so much for getting this ball rolling

it half-relevant but there's also some kind of. intermediary thing. i think it's the same shape as the used moon presence but its blue. for some reason.

no animations on this one, so it was cut early. different "faces" as well. or the low quality of the cut one doesn't maintain the "features" as accurately.

oh what the fuck. hold on. look at the head of the "lake of mud" (LOM from now on) moon presence compared to the others

ive made posts in the past about anti-clockwise and clockwise metamorphosis runes possibly referencing the in-game phenomenon of creature's heads being turned in odd directions. loran silverbeasts and the crawler enemies (ostensibly both loran/nightmare frontier residents) have their "heads" turned clockwise, like above. slime scholar and probably other things i cant remember turn anti-clockwise.

the crawlers are....i mean they're gross. but also uncanny. there's SOMETHING going on here, right? god only know what though. they are also known for the grim sight you can take in when they rear up to Get You: their...stomach?? is rife with messengers. being consumed? maybe? it evokes the image of the artbook moon presence, who is swarming with messengers in the same area of its body.

anyway back to the little creep.

in the center of its chest there's this bizarre unknown thing. if you peel away the majority of its body it looks like this. a grey blob with tentacles. as far as i can tell it doesn't have bones to animate, unlike the rest of the model. the entire model has unfinished textures so its hard to tell what it's supposed to be.

judging from the blisters on the creature, it is CURSED. the orphan of kos' placenta weapon (which is, i think, just a huge cursed blood gem?) has these same blisters, marking it as a fellow "cursed" great one infant (? probably? look at what a runt it is).

curses are a complex aspect of the bloodborne universe. sometimes they can be identified by the appearance of "sickly spots", but other times, curses are color-coded with purple (or red, but that seems strictly related to cainhurst nope i forgot foetid offering can give enemies red rally auras and change their drop tables to include cursed blood gems. much to think about) auras and magic.

a curse is exactly what you expect it to be: great power at a high price (like a huge weapon bonus but your health depletes per second), but the source is arcane. the cursed and defiled pthumerian chalice states, "curses are caused by inciting the anger of the Great Ones, and used to hex others." winter lanterns, the enemies with the heads made out of messengers fused into a brain shape, are the only enemy that consistently only drops cursed blood gems (and, evidently, blood gems only form in the dungeon or nears its entrances). given the pattern of these spots appearing on bosses, it can be reasonably assumed that winter lanterns are the result of a great one's wrath. what the fuck! i dont know what that means!

we're not going to bother going into the nuances of rites and data-mining because holy shit. this garbage is needlessly complex for how half-baked its implementation is. but cursed offerings create cursed dungeons to explore with cursed blood gems to collect. cursed and defiled pthumeru is differentiated by the purple (!) skull vapor overflowing from the chalice. cursed rites required cursed materials: bastards of loran are the mummified bodies of infants who died midway through their transformation into a silverbeast. with the clockwise heads.

okay. that wrapped us up back around to the beginning. i think the lake of mud arena was intended to be in loran, canonically. it has a bunch of different variations that probably would have been used for root dungeon generation rather than canon usage. a lake of dried up water fits perfectly with the terrifyingly arid climate of loran (which generates the blue bolts in the atmosphere). at one point, it seems that several chalice dungeons would have had secret 4th layers (they're still in the game and can be accessed with some light hex editing); i propose that this is where that fight would have taken place. the previous layer would have been the cut great one beast. and layer 2 would have been the loran darkbeast. layer 1 would have been the abhorrent beast instead of the baffling loran silverbeast boss fight that's completely inexplicable otherwise. isz has similar pacing issues. oh shit, i wonder if that's what that blue one is supposed to be. fuuuuccckkk.

the ailing loran chalice tells the player that "some have made the dreaded extrapolation that Yharnam may be next" but the game is telling YOU the player that YOU are supposed to look at loran and extrapolate the fate of yharnam from it. loran was also using old blood as medicine and became a place overrun with beasts and abandoned by god. the loran moon presence is bloated with curses and lives in a place devoid of water, a horrible thing for a great one given how much they love to yammer about lakes and the sea. the area outside of the LOM arena is, amazingly, the exact same facade as the entrance to mergo's loft. there's a stained glass window above the door that's shared between locations, yet again linking loran, the nightmare frontier, and the nightmare of mensis together. and, really, the hunter's nightmare, since the LOM arena was very, VERY similar to the orphan's ocean with identical architecture.

holy shit i guess this is what im working on tonight. and now i see how micolash fits into the entire timeline. neat

#bloodborne #bloodborne lore

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sweetkpopmusings · 1 year

Text

wonwoo best friend headcanons <3

a/n: posting this for the sweet anon who requested it ! my heart is warmed by the love y'all have for these posts, and it's even more warmed by thoughts of being besties with wonwoo because his existence is so heartwarming :,-) pics not mine <33

content: fluff | wc: 0.8k | warnings: none! | pairing: bestfriend!wonwoo x gn!reader | requests: open

he's the chill kind of best friend who makes your life so much more enjoyable just by being in it

your friendship with him is steady beyond belief

and you bring out the best in each other!!

while it may take him some time to get to know you because he's a quiet and shy guy, once he does, you get to see a different side of him compared to most people

for one, he's SO funny and he's ALWAYS cracking jokes

like he figures out your kind of humor and makes jokes in that style because he loves seeing you laugh

tbh he just loves seeing you happy and enjoying life

so he wants to get to know the things you like and partake in any and all activities you do for fun

but he always asks before doing something with you because he respects that we sometimes want to keep certain things as a solo activity :,-) he's SO respectful :,-)

when you do share things with him, he is ALL. IN.

you want to rewatch your favorite childhood tv show? he's coming over to watch it with you, and, when he's unable to come over, he'll watch episodes on his breaks and text you his reactions

he really appreciates you opening up any part of your life to him, so he treats it with the utmost care

and you do the same for him! because you also know how lucky you are to have a wonderful person sharing the things they love with you

regardless of whether you game, he will teach you how to play whatever he's into at the moment, and he'll give encouraging commentary while you learn

once you're getting better, he'll probably start to make jokes like oh, are you really gonna do THAT? interesting choice there, pal

cut to you both playing the same game for hours on end and you get so emotionally invested you both are yelling at the game and/or each other in excitement or defeat (depending on how well you're doing)

his little bookworm heart will recommend books to you out of his favorites, but he'll curate them to what you like or what he thinks you'll like <3

same with games, movies, food, etc.

he asks a lot of questions about you, your likes, your dislikes, and any trivia about you

because he's genuinely interested!!! he thinks it's so cool he gets to know someone like you <3

like he's the type of person who will ask you "what's your favorite color?" when you've both just been sitting in the same room on your phones in silence for hours someone give me quality time with wonwoo please i'm begging you

he also tells you things about himself that he doesn't share with others

he trusts you so so much and he shows he's grateful to you by giving you special parts of him

sometimes he'll text you in the morning when he wakes up from a strange dream just to tell you about it

he really values what you think, on big and small things

which is why he'll come to you if he's struggling with something, feeling low, stressed out, etc

because he knows you'll listen to all his thoughts and concerns and you'll also take the time to work through things with him

and he is the same when it comes to consoling you. he wants you to live the best life you possibly can, and he's going to do everything in his power to help you to achieve that!

he's just such a sweetheart

but don't get me wrong

with all the things he knows about you, he will use it to tease you when he's in the right mood

i can see him teasing his bestie (you) the way he messes with hoshi sometimes like he won't let you live but it's coming from a place of love lmao

if you aren't a fan of teasing, he of course won't do it, but it's really just a way for him to be playful with you :,-)

i think he'd give silly little gifts too

for your birthday, he'll buy you a trinket that represents something in your friendship

it's heartfelt, but it also makes you laugh ! like he really gave you a small snail lamp because you both had a phase where you obsessed over snails and sent cute cartoon drawings of them back and forth

omg or he gets you a lil fun fact book on something you both like so you can share weird fun facts with him every time you meet up for coffee/food and he'll pretend as though he hasn't read a bunch of them already

all in all, friendship with wonwoo is filled with intention. he's an extremely thoughtful best friend down to the tiniest details because he values you so very much <3

*cries in loving wonwoo* brb gotta go pray to the universe that i can have a wonwoo in my life

#seventeen #seventeen headcanons #bestfriend!seventeen #seventeen imagines #svt #wonwoo #seventeen wonwoo #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo fluff #svt wonwoo #svt headcanons #seventeen au #svt au #jeon wonwoo #sweetkpopmusings

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kawaoneechan · 1 year

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Why I don't like Unity

There's three reasons, basically, besides my personal inability to get any custom character assets into Unity, Unreal, or Godot.

Let me tell you below the readmore.

Reason #1: it managed to fucking bluescreen my system just trying to start.

How do you fuck that up? I download an installer and run it. This gives me a launcher. From there, I'm supposed to install the actual product I wanted to begin with. That's bad enough, to be honest. But then the fucking launcher managed to break so badly, I had my first BSOD in several months. With all I do to my poor laptops, I so very rarely got crashes like that it honestly threw me the fuck off.

If the launcher is gonna play like that, forget about installing the actual product.

Reason #2: CPU pegging up the ass.

On my previous laptop, attempting to run basically any Unity-based game would peg the CPU, all cores, until the poor thing ran so hot within mere minutes, it'd commit preventative sudoku. Maybe if I was lucky, I'd get a chance to set all the things to "lowest", and that might let me, I dunno, play long enough to get through the goddamn tutorial?

And I'm not even talking about state-of-the-art 3D games, but simple 2D games with low-resolution pixel art. Why would those run a dual-core at 200% until it fucking kills itself? Makes no sense.

Now, Phil Fortier of Icefall Games is an acquaintance of mine via SCI shenanigans, and when he released Snow Spirit (soon to be rereleased as part of Chronicles of Cascadia), I lamented to him about how his use of Unity would mean I couldn't run any of his stuff. So Phil looked into it and found a Big Fucking Thing to optimize. This basically makes Phil's SCI games the only things made in Unity that I can personally trust won't Do That.

Reason #3: About those 2D games...

I'm gonna dip into my Twitter archives for a bit and repost some stuff for this part.

*wavy flashback effect*

This is Angel Jump, a simple little arcade jumping game that's available on itch.io:

It's delightfully low resolution and has like four seconds of audio all added up. Can't be more than a few MB, depending on which sane development framework they used, right?

33 MB, actually. Because Unity. Let's see how it breaks down:

Unity main exe: 623 KB

Main game assets file: 1.19 MB together

A folder full of support DLLs like terrain and cloth: 7.17 MB, 90% or more of them never called because this is a 2D pixel-art game.

Unity's default resources: 3.41 MB. Mind that of these, only the splash logo is actually used because Angel Jump was made in the free edition.

Mono embedded runtime: 2.61 MB, and each game gets its own copy, much like how Electron apps each have their own copies of Chromium.

And another 17 MB for the Unity Player.

All in all, 33 MB of files for a game like that. Why? Because Unity is a bloated crapsack, I'd conclude from a cursory study like that. Let's compare that to some other games.

This is Elevator Girl, which is not on itch.io.

It has a lot of different animations and three fairly long background music tracks. It's only one file, 18.7 MB. I'm willing to bet most of that is the BGM, but I can't confirm it because it's just the one file.

And just for some historical perspective, the entire Crystal Caves trilogy is 1.31 MB, including some chaff. Commander Keen 4 on its own is 740 KB. Now, Keen and Elevator Girl both have OPL soundtracks, but the latter's is probably streamed.

Noxico is only 1.25 MB to download as a .7z file. Its only optimization that I myself actively apply is that I crunch the PNG files. The rest is text, and since the game uses a .zip file by another name as a game data source... yeah. That's a cheap win.

Now, back to Angel Jump. I went through the game's own resources to see what size it could conceivably have if it was not made in Unity. 54 textures, ten of them actually used. Tiny font stored in a weird way, possibly for distance field trickery which has no business in a 2D pixel game if you ask me. 921 KB of WAV files, high-quality bleepity-bloops, two of them jingles. 4.22 KB of PNG files, crunched like Noxico, for all but the creator's logo and the font. 973 KB for a copy of SDL, and I'd estimate at worst two MB for the main EXE.

The entire Angel Jump game could be no more than 4 MB and a half-dozen files, It's actually 33.2 MB, 92 files.

There's a more general computer programming issue that this reliance on Unity for even the simplest, smallest games seems to spring from: the bigger and better the computers get, the more lazy the developers get. Only have like four MHz, 640 KB of RAM and, what, 720 KB of diskette space, and no guarantee of an HDD? Better make the most of it, developers! But now the pressure's off and there's no more reason to exert any effort into keeping small games actually small.

*sigh*

#unity #rant #twitter

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atomarium · 6 months

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Wawa!

Now for real tho, how did You manage the iterator cube in the first place, I think My computer would explode just being near half the polygons

Have a 3d scug as a treat tho

Waw!

The question can be interpreted in three ways.

Technical:

just... Pain...I have an old 7th gen Intel i7, 16 gigs of ram, and RTX 3060. The thing is. When It comes to meshes, or hard surfaces (the polygons) blender is actually very good at handling a lot of them. But guess what blender does NOT like. Clouds, textures and displacments. I did the details in the cube first, and then sufferd through the pain and lag of clouds and textures.

Render times don't increase with polygons. This many poligons render a 1080p image in 40 seconds. You just have to be smart about hiding stuff you don't need when editing.

I can send you the model. It's really not a huge problem.

Creating detail kind of technical:

well it is indeed hand made. It doesn't take long if you blender very aggressively with energetic music. The first wall took me, ~30-40 hours. The second is barely visible so just a copy of that with modifications. I premade greebles and assets that I have later scatterd. You can see I reused a lot of stuff. In the project I am currently working on it will be different. But in this one, I tried to follow the doctrine of hiding the flatness of the cube. So it doesn't look like a cube with stuff on it, with fairly decent results. Made some holes some structures etc.. The plugins that I used mostly are discombulator, blenders inbuilt panel gen. And we'll uh. That's Pretty much it. Made a geonodes modifier, for the pipes. So it's easier, so that's a thing.

And the rest is just me trying to be creative and stuff.

The "how do I come up where goes what"

I domnt funkin know.

I'm an engineer. And that means I solve pracital problems. Such as, will this pipe going from here to here make sense? Or does it make sense to make this thing here if there is another nearby? I can barely be called an artist, or creative for that matter. I can't draw like at all,I just get anxiety when I try, I can't make anything that is alive in blender. Like genuenly anything.(including scugs :<). I am pretty darn new to blender with barely even 1 k hours. I looked at references of Cappins (the creator of the original 3d model found in OE.) Model, I got some inspiration from there.

Here is his model.

And here is mine ( low quality because I don't have the original on my phone)

You can defenetly see the similarities. I took inspiration from a lot of the stuff on Cappins model. Unfortunately I for some reason never figured out that iterator cube is not a cube. It's a uh... Pancake shaped cube. What I also like a lot about Cappins model, is that it's very very well balanced. Perhaps some technical details are questionable but at that scale that can be ignored. I later talked with him. And he explained me the meaning of primary secondary and tertiary detail. Wich is actually very useful. Go google it if you draw or model. As for my model. I'm happy that people like it but I'm not happy how not canon it is compared to other iterators. Perhaps, it's an older model of an iterator. It took me nearly a third of the time cappin took to make his, that explains the quality difference. And we'll he had to start from scratch.

I hope that answers all the questions, otherwise ask again. It's not like I'm gonna go anywhere.

(also pls gimme de scug model if it's okay)

#rain world #rainworld #rw downpour #rainworld iterator #rain world downpour

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mabelstone · 5 months

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I have a question, it might sound weird but I helps with the imagination 😭

When you usually write your fics (specifically the most latest one you posted) which Matt do you usually imagine?

While I was reading the most latest one I was imagining 2001 Matt but then a beard was mentioned so I was thinking maybe it’s present Matt?

I just think it would be interesting to know the authors perspective!

(Btw love your fics keep up the great work!!!)

hi!! not weird whatsoever xx

it really depends tbh, i like to leave it up to the readers interpretation unless stated otherwise, but i can tell u what i was imagining for each fic if you’d like!

professor stone

i pictured him in his early 40s (beekeeping age) but you could probably guess that based on his description and the pics i'd add for each chapter

the maid

early 30s matt, early 2000s <333 absolute fav

handsome stranger

omg pics are so low quality but this is kind of what i imagined. but... a tad younger? like presume he's in his mid/late 20s mmm also a fav of mine so so handsome

nobody compares to you (most recent)

the request was specifically for the recent pics of him w geddy lee but again, it's completely up to your own personal interpretation :) i think i just really love matt stone

bonus

try me (trey)

good lord what a man!

let me know if u want more, the others are more interchangeable. but of course, picture whatever comes to mind! its interesting that we all think of different eras

#matt stone #matt stone x reader #trey parker #trey parker x reader #matt and trey

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blurban-form · 3 months

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Queenslanders

Many locations have housing types that because of local conditions become very common and come to define an area. Los Angeles dingbats, auto worker housing in Detroit, and Texas donuts are some examples.

But we’re not here to talk those, we’re going to talk about Queenslanders, the type of house the Heelers live in. Like so much of “Bluey”, they’re depicted very realistically.

Queenslanders are the term for a type of house that became commonplace in Queensland, Australia, particularly in Brisbane. (Note the term can also refer to the construction style, so other types of building could be called Queenslanders too.)

They date back to the 1840s when Brisbane was expanding rapidly. Queensland's population increased rapidly from 30,000 inhabitants in 1861 to half a million by 1901 due to a mining boom. Housing was needed that could be constructed rapidly. In the early 20th century, these homes were available as kits from lumber suppliers but were also built by home-building firms, they could be constructed rapidly while maintaining a high level of quality.

Construction and Features

These homes tend to be large: this was intentional as when Brisbane was developing, a minimum lot size was specified to prevent very cramped/dense slum areas that had become an issue in other Australian cities.

These homes were constructed of readily-available low-cost materials: wooden planks and metal roofs, typically a single-level on wooden “stumps”.

This use of these stump posts as the footings for the house had multiple benefits. It protected against flooding (i.e. this lower area could flood without destroying the home’s contents), keeps bugs out (the posts would use metal caps to keep ants from climbing up into the house), and allowed the homes to be built rapidly without the need to smooth out/level the terrain with earth-moving equipment, and also allows the building to be easily moved, raised, etc. if need be.

Note how the Heeler’s house appears to have part of the lower level upgraded while part of it is still an unimproved crawlspace-type area.

Other features include:

Spinning rooftop ventilators to allow hot air to be expelled from the house.

Gabled roofs with steep pitches, typically with fireproof metal roofs (originally corrugated iron, now steel as used on barn roofs), as this was material readily available, could stand up to heavy rains, and was easily replaced in the event of cyclone damage. (Most episodes of Bluey show the house with flatter-style steel barn-type roofing, but “Hammerbarn” shows corrugated metal!)

They have verandas (porches) that wrap around the house but do not enclose the house entirely. Sometimes these get enclosed to create additional indoor living space. The veranda serves as an indoor/outdoor space, and can even be used as a sleeping area in the summer.

The crawlspace area could be used as a shaded play area, workshop, etc. and many were ultimately upgraded into living space but this eliminated the protection against flooding. (This space would be vulnerable)

Inside the rooms are connected and designed with lots of openings to allow for airflow to keep them cool. (As there was no air conditioning at the time.)

(When I did the series of house walkthrough posts I noted how there are often open windows and good airflow throughout the house)

These homes have a light, breezy feel, often being compared to treehouses, or tents. This can also be a criticism; the walls can be thin (making privacy an issue) and hard to insulate, which wasn’t a consideration when they were constructed.

These features combine to make these homes well-adapted to the warm & humid climate of Queensland, where rainfall is heavy and the average summer temperature is typically in the range of 23–36°C (73–97°F). Brisbane is located in a low-lying swamp area and is prone to flooding.

They began falling out of favour after WWII. One reason for this was that earth-moving technology had improved meaning it was no longer necessary to build using stumps, as uneven land could be levelled for building.

References

#Bluey Queenslanders #Bluey architecture #Bluey housing stock #Bluey

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lestatthebrat · 2 years

Text

About the Racists, Homophobes, and Purists Reviewing amc’s “Interview with the Vampire”

To put it bluntly: the people giving this show bad reviews are racists and homophobes. This is a damn good show that breathes new life into an old story, and the fan reviews claiming that this adaptation is “horrible” and a “disgrace” to Anne Rice’s work are simply bigots who cannot stand to see two men kissing on screen and/or who are ridiculously offended that Black actors are playing Louis and Claudia.

Don’t believe me? Look at what fan reviewer joshua g had to say on Rotten Tomatoes: “Of course they would take a classic that does not need change, and turn it into a homosexual love story.” Obviously, his 0.5-star rating (the lowest rating possible on Rotten Tomatoes) was not motivated by the quality of the show but by his own homophobia. P W is another fan reviewer who gave the show a whopping 0.5 stars, because he has a problem with People of Color playing some of the leading characters. He says: “At some point, the intentional casting of minorities in reboots is going to end. History will look unfavorably at the practice.” Fan reviewer Rich G says it even more bluntly: “I dislike this show for one very specific reason. The race swapping of Louis and Claudie” (the misspelling of Claudia’s name is his mistake, not mine). Meanwhile, a fan reviewer on IMDb, GeorgeWHAMMYBush, gave the show a 1/10 (the lowest possible rating on IMDb) and this review: “They made the whole thing a dismally shot propaganda piece and it's painful to sit through… The plot gets obliterated completely in this and it's barely about vampirism at all and is now about race and sexual orientation. The whole thing is a waste of time. They then go after religion because while it was touched on as offensive to vampires in the books here it is clearly the target of the hacks who made this abomination. This could be studied in school as a part of a series on why American media failed when it had every chance to succeed. Whoever made this should be banned from the media industry entirely. Do not bother watching this. It will just aggravate you.” Most of the very low reviews on Rotten Tomatoes and IMBb are reminiscent of these examples, and it’s cringingly obvious these people just hate the show because they are racist and homophobic.

It amuses me that some of these bigots are attempting to use their alleged “love” for the source material as a mask for their racism and homophobia. Like “HOW DARE THEY CHANGE ANNE RICE’S BOOK AND MAKE LOUIS A BLACK MAN INSTEAD OF A SLAVE OWNER!?” or “HOW DARE THEY MAKE LOUIS GAY JUST TO SEEM WOKE!?” But if these so called “avid fans” actually read any of Anne Rice’s books, they must have stopped after book one, because if they got even to book 2 they would have known that Louis and Lestat have ALWAYS been an LGBT couple. If you read book 1, “Interview with the Vampire,” and missed the pretty-hard-to-miss subtext, go re-read it. To recap: Louis talks about how Lestat “had me mesmerized, enchanted” (direct quote); Louis explicitly compares Lestat turning him into a vampire to sex; he and Lestat live together for over sixty year; and they adopt a child together. By book 2, “The Vampire Lestat,” Lestat has male lovers both before and after becoming a vampire, and he confirms that he and Louis were lovers. He and Louis also have a heartfelt reunion in the 80s, and they kiss multiple times on the mouth. (I know, too gay for people who didn’t get past the Neil Jordan film.) By the time we reach the final book in of series, “Blood Communion,” Louis and Lestat are again living together, and in the final chapter of the book, they dance together at a ball, embrace, kiss multiple times on the lips, and profess their undying love for one another. Sorry, homophobes, but these vampires ain’t never been straight, and you’d know that if you actually read the books.

Aside from the raving racists and homophobes, there are some fan reviewers who seem to genuinely love Rice’s “Vampire Chronicles” but have a problem with the amc series diverging from the source material. Again, the “race swapping” is commonly mentioned, so I wonder how many of these people are also motivated by prejudice, but they have other problems too, such as changes in the time period, the ages of the character’s, the dialog (come on, what tv show preserves all of the dialogue from the books?), and even tiny unimportant details like the vampires “spilling blood” when they kill people. I understand when you passionately love a book series (and I myself passionately love “The Vampire Chronicles”), you imagine the story and characters a certain way, but what these people need to realize is that it is not unusual, uncommon, unfair, or disrespectful for tv reboots or movies to make changes from the books. “Interview with the Vampire” was already made into a very successful and well-known movie in 1994, and most remakes/reboots that do NOT try anything new but simply repeat what has already been done fail miserably. “Psycho,” “Nightmare of Elm Street,” “Carrie”... these are all movies that took a classic and remade it more or less the same as the original, and all of these films were brushed off and forgotten because they offered nothing new and exciting, nothing updated and relevant, nothing thought-provoking that would allow the audience to think of things in a different way or see things in a new light. In simply repeating the original with different actors, they failed to live up to the original. The same thing has happened when books have been made into movies and then later into tv series: look at “The Shining.” Most people don’t even know the inferior miniseries exists, even though it is more accurate to the book and Stephen King wrote it himself. On the contrary, some of the most successful remakes, the kind of remakes that make people say, “This is better than the original!”—which, by the way, the majority of critics and fans ARE saying about amc’s “Interview with the Vampire”—are remembered and beloved because they do not just rehash the same old material but because they put a spin on old characters and content; they make changes and updates; they offer the audience something new, exciting, current, and relevant, something more and something deeper. Some examples: “The Fly,” “The Thing,” “Invasion of the Body Snatchers.” This is what amc is doing with “Interview with the Vampire.”

So, if you earnestly love the original books, that’s wonderful, but you have the books, and you can read them as many times as you want. You also have the Neil Jordan film which you can re-watch to your liking. Now, the amc series is remaking/rebooting this series, and it is not a crime for production teams to take creative liberties, and I honestly do not see this as a disrespect to Anne Rice’s work either. She SOLD the rights of her work for this television series, which means the production team can make whatever changes they want. That’s how it goes for any author whose book is being made into a movie: they sign the contract, they get paid (and Anne Rice most likely got paid millions of dollars for this series) and they don’t have any say over what changes are made to the production. Even most script writers who spend months or years creating characters and writing a story, if they are lucky enough to sell their script to a production company, they lose creative control over that story. That’s just the way it works. It’s nothing new. It’s nothing shocking. And it’s not a “disgrace.” This has been going on literally always since movies and television shows have been made based on books. Have you ever seen the “original” 1931 “Frankenstein” movie? Ever compare it to Mary Shelley’s book? So like I was saying, movies/tv shows departing from the source material is nothing new and nothing to be “furious” or “disgusted” about.

Now, if you love the show, please go leave a review on IMDb and Rotten Tomatoes, because it’s being review-bombed by racists and homophobes and purists who want to see it tank! But we won’t let that happen because they dumbass bitches and love wins! ♥️

#amc's interview with the vampire #AMC+#AMC #amc plus #interview with the vampire #Lestat De Lioncourt #lestat #Louis de Pointe du Lac #lestat x louis #loustat #homophobia #racisim #rotten tomatoes #imdb #reviews #critic reviews #the vampire chronicles #claudia

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hirocimacruiser · 8 months

Text

First version of the GReddyVI-AZ-1. This is the red version. This was later rebuilt as the white version. Pics from my book by Amemiya san. Translated text below by google with some corrections by myself.

Dream Mine Another dream machine! The compact monster is also my starting point!

GReddyVI-AZ-1 1996 Tokyo Auto Salon Domestic Complete Car Category Excellence Award

The GReddy series so far has been based on FC and FD but the body size is wider

It has turned into a monster.

However, this year, as I entered my last year in my 40s, I looked back on my tuning life up to that point, returned to my roots, and wanted to take on a new challenge. .

My starting point is a machine with tremendous power hidden in a compact body, and I wish I could tear apart a Porsche or Ferrari class hyper sports car from the outside! I wanted to revive the pleasure I experienced with Chante and Cervo.

The original gullwing used in the GReddy7-IIi, IV, and V is of course satisfactory in terms of construction and design, but it is still

PIC CAPTIONS (first pic)

A body that has originality in each part and incorporates every possible idea that is unique to the street and not found in racing cars.

2ND PAGE

The quality of the gullwings made by Kerr is high in terms of their high degree of perfection and durability. As expected, I have no choice but to say. Therefore, as I am particular about gullwings, I chose the AZ-1 as the base car, which I had been eyeing since it was first released. Sera's Gullwing was also a candidate, but I chose the AZ-1 because the shape of the windshield matched the image.

Although it is based on the AZ-1, only the door structure, roof, windshield, and some interior parts remain. Of course, the engine was replaced with a rotary one, and production began by making everything completely complete, from the body to the frame and suspension structure!

Since it's a K-sized car, I wanted to keep it as compact as possible by keeping it within the same size as the 80 Supra, with 20cms wider on each side, making the body as compact as possible but to allow Air to the 3 rotors loaded in the mid position.

PIC CAPTIONS

It is also my passion to not attach wings and to make it an integral part of the body. The rear of the bumper has a mesh pattern to vent air.

3RD PAGE

When it came to the body design, things like introduction, securing downforce, etc., ideas kept coming to me, and it was difficult but fun to turn them into reality.

The chassis and suspension took a lot of time and the know-how gained from participating in races. It is also meant to strengthen the body in order to obtain official approval, and it is stretched to the point where it can be called a pipe frame specification. The suspension has also been set up with an emphasis on handling so that it can ride smoothly around the bay. The locking arm type double wishbone has a stroke of 50mm compared to the standard 140mm. Well, as for ``how about actually driving it?'', it's a pity that I haven't been able to test it out since it hasn't been officially approved yet.

The important engine is a 3-rotor side port specification that uses the eccentric shaft and rotor housing for 20B, and connects three rotors for 13B.

PIC CAPTIONS

The mid-mounted engine is a 3-rotor using a 13B rotor. We also considered the weight balance and carefully determined the positioning.

4TH PAGE

The turbine is T78-33D, and it squeezes out about 500ps with a boost of 1.1k. However, this is also not set to the highest speed, but rather to focus on acceleration up to 300km/h by improving mid- to low-speed response. At first, I thought about having an NA like the GT, but since it's a mid-engine car, the sound would get really noisy, so after thinking about it a lot, I decided on a turbo version.

Actually, this car. I won the Excellence Award, but I missed out on the Grand Prix. Why? I heard from Dai-chan and other judges that it was because we were late for the delivery time! If the item is not delivered within the specified time, it will not be subject to inspection. However, I'm grateful that they decided to at least give me the Excellence Award because it's so amazing. I didn't create it just to win an award, but when I think about how it could have won the Grand Prix, I was a little disappointed. I was just so disgusted.

SPECIFICATION

Base vehicle: AZ-1/13B modified 20B

Engine & Turbine system: T78-33 D/Trust wastegate type R/Trust 3-layer inner fin type intercooler for GT-R + 90 piping/one-off radiator

other

Exhaust system Original stainless steel/other Suspension & drive system Bilstein Porsche racing suspension/Porsche C car hub/Porsche 962C transmission/Brembo 355 monoblock brake caliper (front)/Brembo F40 brake (rear) other

Tires & wheels: Yokohama A-008 P front 255/35-18/rear 295/ 35-18 / AW-7

Others: Carrozzeria, car navigation system, etc.

PIC CAPTIONS

The shift lever is set to the right of the driver's seat, and the racing car-inspired meters are made by Stack.

I won the Excellence Award, but I missed out on the Grand Prix!

#RE-AMEMIYA #mazda az 1 #RE-Amemiya AZ1 #RE-Amemiya GReddyVI-AZ-1

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whereireid · 2 years

Note

hi!!! i’ve been having a shitty couple of days, and just need some eddie comfort. my request is pretty simple, fem! reader is really stressed, feeling insecure, and does that thing where when she gets asked what’s wrong, she starts bawling and eddie comforts her :)

can be a tab-bitty smutty but mostly fluff please <33

9 TO 5 [Eddie Munson]

warnings: SLIGHT mentions of men making reader uncomfortable

Working is exhausting. Waiting tables is exhausting. Constantly being called over for more drinks or to be complained at for the quality of the food is exhausting. Being ridiculed for how the mashed potatoes aren’t mashed enough is fucking exhausting. You don’t make the mashed potatoes, so why do you get the brunt of your customer’s anger?

You’re tired of your body aching after every shift. Tired of collapsing on the gravel floor outside of the diner with tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. You’re well and truly fed up with how the male customers look at you — eyes hungry, never satisfied. They’re like hyenas, and they gawk at you like you’re a piece of meat. They compliment you on your figure, eyes never leaving your chest, and after each shift, you feel disgusting.

Home. That’s where you want to be right now. Instead, you’re on the floor outside of Karen’s diner, your feet throbbing, your back aching, a pout sporting your face. The cigarette that sits between your lips slowly begins to burn itself out. The gravy stains on your work shirt are not going to wash out. No amount of scrubbing will do the shirt justice. You’re just going to have to buy another.

You don’t bother looking up when you hear Eddie’s tyres crunch on the gravel; rather simply dragging yourself up, head hanging low, trying to prevent the tears from spilling.

You hate your job. You hate every part about it. The serving, the customers, your colleagues, your boss. Why do you even stay? Because the pays so good? Because the pervy customers tip well?

Waitressing is mentally and physically exhausting, and as you clamber your way into Eddie’s car, back aching, knees unable to hold yourself up anymore, feet throbbing with pins and needles, you wonder why you even bother working at the diner. There’s easier jobs that require less labour. You could work at Family Videos with Steve and Robin, but they earn practically nothing compared to you.

Just think of the money, y/n, you tell yourself as you buckle in your seatbelt. Eddie’s eyes are so fixated on you it makes your face fluster and you wipe your eyes, shooting him a small smile. “Hi, Eds.”

Eddie looks at you, a small frown on his lips. “Hey, baby,” he murmurs, voice quiet. He starts to drive, tyres crushing gravel, his eyes staring at the road. “How was work?”

“It wasn’t great.” Your voice cracks slightly and squeeze your eyes shut, gently banging your head against the car seat. The burn in the back of your throat and the tears which beg to spill from your eyes is embarrassing. You don’t want Eddie to see you cry over something so stupid. “‘M so tired, Eds.”

“Okay, pretty girl. Take a nap. I’ll wake you up when we’re at mine, okay?”

He doesn’t need an answer to know that you agree. The drive is silent - Eddie doesn’t even bother turning his music up. He can see the stains on your cheeks from where you’ve been crying, can see the marks on your work shirt from spilt food and drinks. Your shift has been hard - harder than usual, and he can’t imagine the intense, exhausted state that your body is in.

When he arrives at his trailer, Eddie ponders whether or not to wake you up. You seem restless, feet gently kicking at the floor of his car, though your eyes are shut; your breathing is heavy, you’re not resting. Your sleep will not make you content. You need to be relaxed, and Eddie lets out a heavy breath as he reaches over to shake you awake. Instead, he opts to undo your belt buckle. He wishes nothing more than to leave you sleeping, but he knows better than to let you stay asleep when you’re upset. You get grouchy when you awake, and it’s something that Eddie wants to prevent. He doesn’t want to allow you to make a bad day even worse.

A gentle groan escapes your lips as your boyfriends arms wrap around you. He’s carrying you bridal-style out of the car, his eyes gazing into yours, full of love, full of concern. “Such a pretty girl,” Eddie tells you, his voice so quiet. He enters his trailer, softly shutting the door behind him. “Even when you’re sleepy. So, so pretty. Say, it baby. Tell me how pretty you are when you’re tired.”

Your head lulls backwards slightly, resting on Eddie’s bicep. Your eyes sting, and you look up at him, throat burning from how upset you are. “‘M a pretty girl, Eds. ‘Specially when I’m tired.” A singular tears slips down your cheek, and you sniffle slightly, turning your head away when Eddie goes to wipe it. “I’m so tired, Eddie.”

Eddie shushes you, his thumb gently wiping your cheeks. “I know, baby. Let’s get you undressed.” He begins to lightly unbutton your shirt, helping you pull it off of yourself. Shoulder slumped, you stare up at him, tears prickling the corner of your eyes. His voice is so gentle it makes your skin crawl with goosebumps. “Been a hard day at work, huh?”

The gentle tone of Eddie’s voice practically forces you to squeeze your eyes shut. Tears threaten to spill at every passing moment, and your throat feels like it’s about to close up. “It’s been awful,” your voice wobbles slightly, your hands pressing against Eddie’s stomach. He watches you squirm on him, and he frowns down at you. He hates it when you feel like this, his pretty princess, so exhausted, so restless. “The customers were - were so mean today, Eds. Just wanted to come home to see you, all day.”

“Wanted to see me all day, huh, baby?” Eddie places a soft kiss against your forehead. “If you needa cry, sweetheart, cry. ‘M not gonna judge you.”

The coaxing of his words seem to be the match which lights the fuse to your breakdown. Gentle sobs begin to rack your body, to which Eddie soothingly runs his hands up and down your body in response, trying to force you to relax. Tears fall desperately from your eyes, and your breathing becomes erratic, choked sobs escaping your lips. “Shh, baby,” Eddie tells you, his hands on your face, wiping away the tears quicker than they come. “‘S all okay. I’m here now, baby.”

“I needed you all day, Eddie,” your breathy voice falls out in a whine, and you grab at him desperately, needing to feel him against you. “I just wanted you and you weren’t there and I hated it.”

“I know, baby, I know,” Eddie soothes, his hands finding their way in your hair, his fingers rubbing gentle circles on your scalp. “But I’m here now, okay, ‘n I’m not gonna leave you.”

Breathy sighs leave your mouth, and as you calm yourself down, your chest begins to rise and fall slowly. You look up at Eddie through teary eyes, and shuffle yourself closer against him, desperate to feel his touch. You clamber atop of him, knees either side of his legs, and rest your head on his shoulder, arms wrapped around his neck, and Eddie’s arms wrap around your waist almost instinctively.

Moving your hair out of the way, Eddie begins to plant tender, loving kisses on the side of your neck, sucking gently, lips never leaving your skin. He marks you softly, and when he bites down gently, he soothingly laps his tongue over the broken skin his teeth had caused. “I love you, sweetheart.” He squeezes your arms slightly, and you nuzzle your head closer into his shoulder, and he pulls his mouth away from your skin. “So, so pretty. Those men at work won’t bother you now you’ve got this, baby. Property of Eddie Munson written all over your neck.”

Face flushing slightly, you flick Eddie’s neck, and he lets out a gentle ouch in response. Your body throbs, and your spine feels like it’s about to fall out of your body, and your feet are so, so grateful for the lack of pressure on them; sitting down is heavenly, your body screaming with happiness from the break from the constant walking you had been doing at work.. Eddie gently traces small circles on your skin, humming a soft, somewhat familiar tune, though you can’t exactly place where you’ve heard it from beforehand. Your head rests in the crook of his shoulders, your eyes falling shut, your body relaxing against Eddie’s.

It hurts. And you’re tired. Exhaustion burns at your core, and no matter how hard you try to fight to stay awake, you’re beginning to allow the urge to sleep overtake you. Your body can no longer hold itself against Eddie, and his strong arms press you against him as you begin to drift off.

You’re such a pretty girl, Eddie thinks to himself, especially when you're tired.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #stranger things vol 4 #eddie munson fluff #joseph quinn #stranger things fic #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things

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kingedmundsroyalmurder · 5 months

Text

Addendum to the chapter 1 post that I thought of later:

“Not this afternoon—haven’t got time. I must mosey up to the North End to see a man who has got a lovely throat. Nobody can find out what is the matter. He has puzzled all the doctors. He has puzzled me, but I’ll find out what is wrong with him if he’ll only live long enough.” This is Eric's best friend, a well known doctor, cosplaying as, like, 1900s Dr. House. No concern for the patient's well being, just a Mystery that must be solved. No wonder Eric has such a low opinion of doctors!

(Sidenote: those of you who Anne, what is Gilbert like as a doctor? Because TBC didn't have a great opinion of them, and this book is not shaping up to be too complimentary either. Did LMM just have a fairly poor opinion of doctors in general that colors her work?)

On to chapter two, and we meet an actually sympathetic character! Larry West seems like a lovely young man, and I hope he recovers fully and that he and Agnes Campion are blissfully happy together. Unlike either Eric or David, Larry actually seems to care about the people under his charge, i.e. his students. I already want him to be our protagonist instead.

"The former looked more like a benevolent old clergyman or philanthropist than the keen, shrewd, somewhat hard, although just and honest, man of business that he really was." Kilmeny of the Orchard, sponsored by the Better Business Bureau! There is absolutely an interesting thread to tease out across LMM's life and work that connects Eric Marshall to Barney Snaith, but I want to read more of this book before I make further commentary on that. But it does appear that Maud's opinions on rags-to-riches businessmen, uh, Evolved over the years.

Actually never mind, I'm gonna girl who's only ever read The Blue Castle this book a tiny bit more. Compare:

"And then those girls were as pretty as pinks, now weren’t they? Agnes was the finest-looking of the lot in my opinion. I hope it’s true that you’re courting her, Eric?”

and

“Prettiest girl in Montreal,” said Dr. Redfern. “Oh, she was a looker, all right. Eh? Gold hair—shiny as silk—great, big, soft, black eyes—skin like milk and roses. Don’t wonder Bernie fell for her. And brains as well. She wasn’t a bit of fluff. B. A. from McGill. A thoroughbred, too. One of the best families."

Women aren't really people, they are trophies and objects to be collected and revered. Barney grows out of this mentality through his travels. Eric... well it remains to be seen about Eric, doesn't it?

"Perhaps I am. When a man has had a mother like mine his standard of womanly sweetness is apt to be pitched pretty high." So we're getting the standards by which Eric judges a future wife and the role she will be expected to play. He wants a society hostess, a woman who can step seamlessly into his mother's shoes. He wants her to be sweet and serene and, presumably, beautiful and delicate like his mother in her portrait. David and Mr. Marshall both basically want him to marry Ethel Taverse -- beautiful, well brought up, good lineage, of the Right Sort. Eric... honestly Eric has such fantasy standards for a woman that in a different book the resolution would be that he realizes that he's gay. He's doing that doesn't-realize-they're-queer-yet thing of, "it's not that I don't like [expected other gender], it's just that I haven't found anyone yet with [vague laundry list of impossible qualities]." I know that doesn't always translate into queerness, but it's an experience that definitely rings true to my baby ace teenage years before I had the words or knowledge to accurately describe my experiences.

"In all likelihood the worst thing that will happen to you over there will be that some misguided woman will put you to sleep in a spare room bed. And if that does happen may the Lord have mercy on your soul!” Go to PEI, but don't consort with the locals! The Wrong Kind of Woman might tempt you! This book is a great primer on how classism and eugenics go hand in hand, isn't it?

So our plot has been set up for us. Eric, a young man in possession of a good fortune, is off to Prince Edward Island, where he will soon find himself in want of a woman to be his wife. She will either be a commoner, whom his family and friends think isn't good enough for him but whom he loves and will stand up for, or she will be a secret aristocrat, whom he will pluck out of her shabby surroundings and return to her birthright in high society. I want this book to go with option a, because it's more interesting, but from what I know of it it veers closer to option b instead.

(What he needs is an Anne Shirley to whack him upside the head with a slate and tell him to stop being such a jerk, but I'm not holding out hope.)

#kilmeny of the orchard #kilmeny readalong #I am gonna drag depth out of this book if i have to go in with a pickaxe and mine it myself

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artfightdramaconfessions · 6 months

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So, this year I did my first Art Fight; I had joined in 2021 but kept myself as a spectator to observe it and see what the rules would be like, how things are done, the general etiquette of it - and I think, being involved in the fight is very different from watching it.. Wholesome, sweet and kind on the outside; very distant, lazy and disorganized on the inside.

Personally, however, I had a wonderful time! I think I pumped out loads of art and I am proud of what I did for others; high-quality, fully-rendered, respect being given to character features and everything being on-model. I drew exactly 80 pieces, majority of them being waist or fullbody, and only about 5 simple-shaped characters and 3 mass attacks. It was heartwarming to see much of it later being posted on Toyhouses, in the character's reference pages, and elsewhere. All around, I was satisfied in what I was able to provide and enjoyed drawing characters I wouldn't personally design, like drawing really cute girls and ferals when I usually lean to monsters and men! I found unique designs, novices and beginners, all sorts.

And while I got a quarter of defenses in return which I absolutely cherish and some sweet comments on a majority of my pieces, I saw how others have complained about not being given responses for work that they've poured hours into... That made me wonder if that's just.. Generally the mentality of artists now; either too introverted to show appreciation to fellow artists in spite of us collectively knowing how challenging it can be to make art, or just joining to farm and then acting too tired or busy to actually participate. - And then the other half almost kill themselves and psychologically drain themselves in the parasocial cycle that Art Fight has to offer in its "trading environment". Sure I could be classified in the latter group too, but I still practiced self-care and got shit done compared to the burnout horror stories I see. It's quite a wild contrast to observe, and leads to psychological turmoil on both sides when one only gives and the other only takes.

There's also the case of people joining the fight and not contributing at all; just picking a side, dropping some characters, (sometimes a broken promise) and then disappearing. I do not want to hear the "they have real lives off the internet, they were busy" excuse, either - I too have a life: I am a teacher during the week /and/ I have a weekend job. When it is summer holidays for the Northerners, I am down in the Southern hemisphere, dealing with the winter, working and freezing my hands up to the point I don't want to create art sometimes when I get home - but I was still perfectly diligent and on top of things.. But hey, maybe I'm built different, and some people are simply just lazy and want rewards without the effort, or quickly assume they deserve more than what they should.

On the bright side, I'm glad I didn't deal with anyone hostile or disrespectful, and I only encountered two genuine art farmers who pretended they didn't know how to draw or "weren't skilled". Always the same excuses, at some point we have to stop giving them the benefit of the doubt so often; As gatekeepy as it is, I'd imagine a game for artists should be reserved for artists, it's not like an unfit marine biologist would want to participate in the Olympics, let alone be allowed to, so why should people who otherwise hate drawing or don't want to learn the skill and deliberately say such things want to join? In a sense it feels like a mockery towards art and the exchange of creativity in general, and I've been on porn sites that check the quality of your art before they post it better than this! There should be at least an entry requirement for signing up for Art Fight where you send in an artwork before the mods verify your account; there would be a fuckload less farmers, for certain.

I'm hoping that maybe, just because it was my first Art Fight, that /maybe/ this high-attack low-defense ratio of mine is to be expected, and if I just manage to spread my art to even further crowds and find new people to attack, I'll find others who will like my designs and be eager to draw them with the same level of eagerness I had to draw theirs. All that matters to me is if I find people who /want/ to draw my characters, not feel obliged to, in the same way I was never obliged to draw that pink, ridiculously-well-endowed Succubus or stocky, angry little Pokemon - but I did it anyway! I simply enjoyed the spontaneity and diversity of character design and unfamiliar fandoms. In the end, after all I've said, it doesn't matter how much art you get in return, it's about how proud you feel about what you contributed to the fight, and what you learned and discovered in the fun little world of character design.

I don't feel discouraged to draw less next year, I'm going to simply relent, but I can see why other artists hang their heads after their first time when they encounter hostility, are ignored, or don't get what they want out of it.

I think these are some things that I would want to improve if I could:

The ratio should calculate points, that will really incentivize people into prioritizing quality over quantity with their attacks. If you want to see how many attacks VS defenses someone has, just go and check on their front page (if you want it to specifically see how many attacks and defenses they had in one year specifically, they should add a sorting filter for that). The only "downside" I can imagine is an increase in mass-attacks, a joy for some but not for others.

After July, I think that we should still be able to submit Revenge-Only attacks during August - and to not have revenge chains be exploited, only be able to post a revenge once on a Level 1.. Level. I see a lot of people seeming guilty for not being able to attack back within the month or being a minute too late to submit a revenge, and then also just being too shy to submit the attack off-site / not being able to do it offsite / not thinking it's worth it without getting points / etc. - and easy resolve would be to allow revenges to still be posted during August, and Moderators can calculate the event scores and winners in September; trying to cram all of the admin into 12 days is insanity and I am speaking from a perspective that deals with a painful amount of admin. Also, get a fucking search bar that's accessible for everyone, holy Hell.

I'm.. Not sure if my tangent was in good spirits or not, it's rather just thoughts that have been rolling around in my head while I've been reflecting on my experience. Hope everyone else had a good Art Fight and reached their goals, or met and made some friends through it. :)

#art fight #artfight #artfight2023 #submission

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bechnokid · 1 year

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Thoughts on the new Pokémon games? Any favorite Pokémon or characters?

They are pretty good! My favorite character is Nemona and my favorite Pokemon is Chi-Yu, who I have lovingly named "Splashy".

I do have some more in-depth thoughts if you want to keep reading.

Graphics (5/10)

Probably some of the worst I've seen in a mainline game, despite the character and Pokemon models being really high-quality.

The low-quality draw distance is to be expected, but it's still pretty jarring seeing NPCs without their hand animations fully rendered. Some hands would look like 🤚 when holding a Pokeball or even just a pencil.

The environments are really lackluster, and the weather can cause the frame rate to drop into the single digits.

Glitches are plentiful, but not in a good way. Pokemon spawning in walls, HP bars glitching in Tera Raids, environments glitch when camera is not at an optimal angle, etc.

However, the Pokemon's textures look absolutely fantastic. I love how shiny the Magnemite line looks. :3 I kinda wish the particle effects were better on Pokemon like Skeledirge and Chi-Yu, but that's ok.

Story (10/10)

I'm so glad the story ended up so much better in SV than in SwSh. I remember not being able to play through Shield after playing Sword because of how boring the story was. Not this time, though. SV continued to keep me engaged throughout the whole thing.

(SPOILER ALERT) I kinda wish they put more effort into making Scarlet and Violet different from each other regarding the AI Sada and Turo. I don't think it would have been too farfetched to have Sada a golem because of the existence of legendary titans.

Arven's story is fantastic, and although he is not a favorite character of mine, I've really warmed up to him after learning his goal in healing his Mabosstiff.

Gameplay (7/10)

I really thought Gym Leaders, Titans, and Team Star Battles would be scaled. That would have been really cool...

I was deeply saddened that they decided to remove the majority of the QoL features from PLA, and reverted to its traditional turn-based gameplay. It isn't bad by any means, but it makes the game slower than it should be.

Being able to sneak up on Pokemon and catching them off-guard was really fun, but I wish it can be applied to also catching them and not just battling them.

However, auto-battling is really cool and fun!! I love it! Being able to bring out my Pokemon and battle other wild Pokemon really sped things up.

Follower Pokemon are back!! Although I kinda wished they changed the speeds of some of the Pokemon when they're running/walking with you. Chien-Pao, I know you have a walking animation, please just relax and walk with me!!

RIP sparkling sounds when finding shiny Pokemon. I understand that it makes finding them more exciting, but I think it makes it harder for those who have difficulty telling colors apart to find them. I don't really get having to remove a feature that would otherwise make finding shiny Pokemon more accessible to others.

Characters (8/10)

Although no one really got me all "doki-doki" like Guzma has, the cast was absolutely fantastic this time around.

I love that almost all of the gym leaders have their gym challenges as something they do on the side. Their passion is something else that they're into and they bring it into their Pokemon battles, whether it's baking, creating art, streaming, cooking, etc.

The Elite Four is fantastic, too. It's great seeing another Gym Leader become another member of the Elite Four. :3

That said, I don't trust Geeta.

Please help Larry.

Overall Score (7.5/10)

Pretty good! It's a good start to an open-world Pokemon game, but kinda falls behind compared to other open-world games out there that have surpassed it by a long shot and were released earlier! I mean like. The franchise is nearing its 30th anniversary and it still doesn't have voice acting of any kind.

It's an obvious result of dev crunch, and I really hope they space out release dates if it means getting better games. However, I don't think this will happen anytime soon.

#ask post #anonymous #bec talks pokemon

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