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ladylannisterxo · 2 years

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How would Billy, Steve and Eddie take care of their girlfriend (or is it girlfriends) when they're menstruating? [Genre doesn't matter.]

Ooooo okay, let's see. let's see. let's see...

Thanks for the ask!! Putting these below the cut cause they got a little long... oops!

Billy

Let's be real, Billy would have no idea what to do... at first. His relationship with you is the most serious one he's ever had and he's never had to handle this type of thing before.

He's used to being the one on the receiving end of pain, albeit a different kind of pain, so watching you curl in on yourself as cramps wrack your body makes his heart hurt.

"What do you need, princess, what can I do?" He asks, almost sounding like a broken record at this point. But his concern makes you smile.

You had cancelled plans with him at the last minute when you woke up feeling awful and oh so gross and the abruptness of you cancelling on him twisted him up inside with worry and he immediately drove over to your place, deciding that if you couldn't go out, he'd stay in with you.

You're curled up in your bed, head resting on his chest. His fingers alternate between coursing through your hair and tracing them lightly up and down your arm. The simple touch makes you shiver.

"Can you read to me?" You whisper, seemingly out of nowhere, slightly embarrassed by your request.

But you know Billy is an avid reader; he hides it well but you've discovered his secret stash of paperbacks in his closet so you not only know he's well read but that he also loves it.

"Seriously?" His eyebrow quirks in amusement. "Yeah, baby, I can read to you. What do you have in mind?"

You reach over on your bedside table and hand him the recent Jane Austen novel you've been reading.

"Jane Austen," he mumbles, flipping to your bookmarked page, "I think you just want me to trip over my words here."

You chuckle softly. "No, I just like the sound of your voice. You tripping over your words will only be an entertaining side bonus."

"Ha ha." You snuggle up closer to him, head resting back on his chest. He tightens his hold around you and then begins to read, slowly and shockingly eloquent and it makes you smile.

Before long, his deep voice has lulled you into a peaceful sleep. He bookmarks your page and pulls you in closer, letting his own eyes shut and sleep take him.

Steve

Okay so Steve is on it. He knows you're feeling bad, he's frenzied about it, but he knows what to do.

Like mans is a problem solver, an obstacle overcomer, Mr. Fix-It (if you will) and there is nothing Steve won't do for you.

You had called him earlier in the day to let him know you weren't feeling too hot and, if it's no trouble, could he come over and stay with you?

He immediately went into overdrive asking you all kinds of questions like where does it hurt? and how long have you been feeling like this? and what can I do? please tell me what I can do!

You can't help the smile that creeps onto your face at his temporary insanity but you let him know that you don't need anything, just him.

He lets you know he'll be over to your place as soon as he can... but then 45 minutes pass and he's still not there.

When you finally hear a knock on the door, you trudge over to it and upon opening, there he is in all of his Steve Harrington glory, arms full of all sorts of things for you.

Turns out, he had stopped by Melvald's on the way over (said a quick 'hello' to Joyce because obviously) and then he grabbed pain reliever, candy (specifically chocolate but some other types as well), tea with honey (for his honey; he thinks that joke is funny - it kind of is), and a small bouquet of flowers... just cause.

"You didn't have to do all this," you whisper, opening the door wider so he can slip past. "I said I only needed you."

"Yeah, I know," he responds sheepishly, a flush spreading up his neck and to his cheeks. "But you sounded so worn down, baby, I couldn't help myself."

He ends up shooing you over to the couch while he puts everything away in its rightful place. He gives you two pills and a chocolate bar to ease the pain and then he's in your kitchen putting the flowers in a vase. The tea is stored in the cupboard for later.

After, he's back in the living room and you're sitting up, giving him the go ahead to slide in behind you so you can rest back against his chest.

He places gentle kisses to the top of your head and rubs soothing circles with his fingers on your stomach.

"How are you feeling?" He asks after a moment.

"Better. Now that you're here."

Eddie

Eddie is 100% a "laughter is the best medicine" kind of guy.

You were already at his place, enjoying the day together, lounging on his bed when you get the sudden feeling that something is off.

You excuse yourself to the bathroom only to find that day 1 of your period has officially begun and well fuck, what a day ruiner!

When you finally make it back to his bedroom, he's still sitting on his bed but now with his guitar draped over his lap. Under normal circumstances, watching his fingers glide across the strings would send your heart racing but now, now you just want to curl into a ball and die.

His eyes flit up to meet yours and the fatigue is evident across every part of you and concern with just a hint of insecurity flashes in his eyes.

Eddie immediately thinks he's done something to upset you and as he wracks his brain for the reason, he's up and crossing the room over to where you still hover by the door.

"What's up, sugar?" He asks, trying his absolute best to sound flippant. "Something I said?"

You shove at his chest playfully, brushing past him and laying yourself back down across his bed. You reach your hands out for him in that grabby kind of way that lets him know you want him snuggled up next to you.

He complies immediately, laying down to face you, his nose brushing against your own.

"You'd tell me if I did something, right?" His fingers brush across your cheek and on down the curve of your neck before resting gently on your hip.

"Mmm, that feels nice," you mumble, "and no, my love, you didn't do anything. Mother Nature is just ruining the day, that's all."

"Ah." He gets it, of course he does. You're not sure how he knows but he does. Then in an all too dramatic Eddie fashion, he flings himself back off the bed, landing in a heap on the floor.

"Jesus, Eddie!" But you can't stop the giggle that erupts from you.

He's back on his feet in no time and then he's rifling through his drawers and tossing to you over his shoulder a pair of flannel pajama pants and one of his many Hellfire Club shirts.

"For you, my lady," he says with a flourishing bow. "I want nothing more than for you to be comfortable."

"Well, thank you, kind sir."

"Anything for my queen."

After changing your clothes, you're back to lounging in his bed, settled in between his legs with your back to his chest. His arms are wrapped firmly around you, head tucked into your shoulder.

"Sing me a song, Eddie."

"What song would you like to hear, princess?" He doesn't push back, doesn't fight you, doesn't get embarrassed at the prospect of singing for you - if it's a song you want, it's a song you'll get.

You shrug. "Surprise me."

You can feel his smirk against your skin and then his voice permeates the air as he sings one of your favorite songs; one of those mainstream, synth pop songs that you know he absolutely despises.

And, of course, he won't sing it normally. He sings it poorly, on purpose, his voice taking on a muppet-like tone right in your ear and it immediately makes you giggle.

You squirm in his grasp, trying to get away from his voice in your ear, but he holds you tighter, pressing his lips against your skin, and sings a little louder. You can't help yourself from laughing ridiculously hard and he joins in right along with you, all pain quickly forgotten.

#billy hargrove #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #writing by 's'

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salvadoerena · 9 months

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hey! this is chance & here’s this week’s prompt. what websites or resources do you use while you write or develop a character/story? what do you think of them and would you recommend them?

OOOOO GOOD QUESTION!!

Funnily enough, tumblr is one of the main ones. My characters tend to develop from ye olde tumblr oc ask/rp blogs, so I got in the habit of reblogging a lot of funny posts tagging my characters. It still happens even if I'm not tagging them. For example if there's a post like "every friend group has the chihuahua, the yorkie, and the borzoi" or like, a picture of someone holding a giant mouse or something, in my head I go "haha, yeah Andy is tooootally a yorkie. Too much energy and slight diva tendencies" or "oh man giant versions of little things would be rad. is there a way I can worldbuild on that? more oxygen in grounded islands means bigger bugs?"

Sometimes, if I'm looking for inspiration regarding character designs/fashion references, I might go on picrew or pinterest and just look and see different styles people might have or mess around with doll makers. Usually picrew doesn't have what I'm looking for exactly, but it'll be something like "oh there's a fishnet top in this one. i think Mareilli would absolutely wear this" or "oh this is a fun hairstyle. i should give more of my characters long hair so they can do more updo's," you know? So if you're looking for character design/inspo, highly recommend!!

If you wanted my biggest website inspiration though, it's probably youtube. I spend a lot of time on there watching speedpaints/character designs/costume builds/etc and it's a HUUUUGE inspiration. A lot of dichotomies I make between Grounded/Aerin islands comes from listening to people like Bernadette Banner regarding like...okay so like she made a video re: the costuming choices in Game of Thrones and that REALLY sent me on a spiral into looking at what differences in fashion and textiles you would find in islands that...float...and have windstorms haha;;;

This turned out a lot longer than I thought it would so the rest is under the cut! (Please read under the cut there's some writing programs and editing services I recommended under there).

And I know everyone says this but seriously: consume as much media as possible. I cannot even BEGIN to tell you how much television, music, film, books, anime, manga, comics, podcasts, and video games have either driven me to better my writing or have inspired me to make certain creative choices.

A lot of things from Seraetia were heavily inspired by Black Sails, from things like costume design to obfuscating certain characters' motives to me deciding to go whole hog on including polyamory as an end-game relationship status for some characters. Reading The Locked Tomb series and the Percy Jackson and the Olympians (plus literally everything else in that series haha) really pushed me into forcing myself to work on my imagery and prose, while also forcing me to think about pacing and how/if I should write it as a saga or how arcs should work. Nonfiction stories and documentaries also help!! Though, I'm pretty biased as I'm more into animals and psychological research, but I have definitely referred to those things when thinking up like, units of measurement and cuisine and things.

Also do NOT underestimate the power of infodumping and word vomiting with friends. When I write out my acknowledgements, @okiedoki and @miscbeary are going to be front and center "Thank you guys so much for letting me speak nonsense for hours on end and just nodding along." Roleplay with friends!! Even silly little inconsequential things or alternate universes or iterations upon iterations will help you to flesh out your characters! I've come up with so much about James and he's gone through so much development because I would go "Haha what if he was in the modern world he'd probably own an iguana that would be funny. Why an iguana...? You know, it's probably because he likes to be seen as different, but also because he just thinks they're cool. They're dinosaur-like and he enjoys the fact that something so unconventional and kind of scary can love and be loved--OH MY GOD JAMES SEES HIMSELF AS A MONSTER AND USES THE IGUANA TO PROJECT AND TEACH HIMSELF HE'S WORTHY OF LOVE."

*cracks knuckles*

Now in terms of actual programs you can use to write stories!!

Google Docs tends to be my go-to, but ever since I discovered StimuWrite 2, I tend to switch between both. Since I do most of my writing at night, Gdocs is really harsh on my eyes (even with f.lux, blue light glasses, and darkreader), so I like that you can set a gentler background on StimuWrite. Even better, it makes my ADHD brain happy and actually stay on task bc there's so much stimulation in there lol The only downside is that it doesn't really save your work (there's an emergency back-up it creates, but it's only for the last couple of writing sessions I believe), so I'll use it to write out a bulk portion and then transfer it to Gdocs.

If you're planning on writing a serious novel and want something with a little bit more organizational prowess, I would go with Scrivener. It has a lot of bells and whistles that are actually pretty neat, like being able to save reference documents/photos and putting it in the same "container" as the actual writing passage. Honestly? It's a lot. But!! It includes a built-in tutorial that does a REALLY good job of going through everything, so highly highly HIGHLY recommend following it because it explains the features very well and I do quite like them! Unfortunately, it does cost $60, but it's a one-time purchase and genuinely very useful.

If you're more into screenwriting that novels and the like, cannot recommend FadeIn enough. We had to use that in my Creative Screenwriting class and it was SO easy to use and made exporting scripts SUCH a breeze. In fact, Welcome to Irth was entirely developed in FadeIn, haha.

If you're looking for more like, art resources I would go with things like Clip Studio Paint/Paint Tool SAI. I used to use FireAlpaca like a decade ago, and I really enjoyed it! Can't say how well it's held up, though. PureRef is great too!! It helps you keep track of your reference images, and you can set it to "float" on top of other programs.

FINALLY LAST BUT NOT LEAST!!!

If you're looking for an editing service, please please PLEASE look into RoseLark Publishing. I had the privilege of working with them this past summer getting a Manuscript Assessment and I'm so glad I did. They're very professional and are great at communicating their timelines and everything! They might still be accepting editing assessment applications at this time, but you can shoot them an e-mail on their contact page!

Anyways, I am going to stop myself here or I will literally not shut up. Thank you for asking!! I looooooove love talking about my writing and apparently about the writing process as well, lol.

#digital-chance #ask #long post #writing #writing ref

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sergiusreports · 3 years

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Bunker door busted down, a stranger waiting at home? The A11Y swivels and looks around, nervous. "Ooooo. Uh oh." It rolls right past Atreus to investigate the bunker door, hovering around it like a fretting kid who just broke something they weren't supposed to touch in the first place. Eventually, it turns back to Atreus and spends a second scanning him.

"Ooh, we met before! In the snow. I think. Or maybe we've met before that?" A11Y alternates leaning back on its front left and right wheels. "...Am I in trouble?"

Sergius stepped aside and gave A11Y room to scan the bunker. "Yes. We've met a few times before." he wondered how clean of a slate Florus started with for each new iteration of ANY. A11Y's additional question about being in trouble caught him off guard. "We could have used the backup. If you had responded to my initial ping for assistance, it would have been helpful. Why did you ignore your directive for so long?"

The A11Y hangs its head down in shame as it continues to childishly sway from wheel to wheel. "I thought it was just another one of Father's attempts to get me back home. I'm sorry...I'm sorry. You won't tell on me, right?"

"I'm pretty sure Florus is already aware you've been ignoring him. He doesn't need any more information from me." The implication being that he sure as hell wasn't going to get any out of Sergius either. "But it still doesn't answer the question. Why did you start ignoring your directive?"

A11Y makes a sniffing sound - which, honestly, is odd since it's a machine that lacks tears. But it whimpers anyway. "I-I didn't mean. The bunker...I thought it would be fine! I really did! It just felt so, so good to do what I wanted. I made a friend, you know! But when I had fun, Father got really mad, and - and that felt good too! He never gives me attention. Always 'not now, A11Y.' 'Go do your job, A11Y.' S-so...so..."

Emotions. Sergius hedged and took a step back as though A11Y might have caught a virus. To make the odd sound of mimicking tears stop, he cut a hand through the air as if he could ward it off. "I understand." Almost. And yet all too well. "The bunker -is- fine. Standing around guarding it, less than stimulating, I get that. Is this friend that fat bird I caught on my drone's feed?"

A11Y does a little hop. "YEAH! He's so cute and nice! He loves to peck me right here -" The machine shows its shoulder to Atreus and, sure enough, there's a small hole in its coral carapace. "- and we go bug catching together!"

"That's..." it took him a whole second to say the word "great." Whatever it took to keep A11Y from tearing up again. "Friends can help when your father is..." another seconds long pause. "Florus." he checked the drone feeds again. No sign of Haila. Good. "You and the fat bird could stay here near the bunker and still fulfill your directive by guarding it. I've counted an array of insects around here." Then, more pointedly. "Because I've had the time."

"He doesn't like to go over here. Says it smells funny. I wish I could smell. I like funny." A11Y giggles to itself, leaving open the question of how it communicated to a dodo in the first place. "Father doesn't like funny. Do you? Do you have any jokes? And did your Father tell you to guard the bunker too?" A11Y is beginning to blabber again, the thought of the being punished temporarily gone from its mind.

It reminded Sergius of the time A6Y asked if he liked games. He felt something odd and hollow in his chest. "No. I never got around to learning funny." He doesn't give his response much thought, he can see A11Y is already distracted. The hazards of an AI given a personality coded to develop on its own. "No. I'm guarding the bunker because I decided to. There are bad people who want to take what's located here. I haven't noticed a bad smell though." Could birds detect aether? Who could say.

A11Y whines again, disappointed. "Aww, that's so sad. Funny things are so...fun! It makes you feel special and warm and tingly." But on the subject of bad people, it makes a timid whirring sound. "Oh...I think I know what kind...but you guys used to be 'bad people' too. I don't know what to think. Father says I shouldn't think so much, but I can't help it." A11Y tilts its head slightly. "Do you ever wonder about that? What's thinking? Is my thinking...the same as Fathers? Is it the same as yours?"

"Yeah, don't listen to that. You should think as much as you can." Sergius' reply is almost instantaneous. As A11Y continues, he can see it has reached the philosophical point of development. He wonders if its childlike nature is a result of how its treated or just a stepping stone. "The processes are the same. But what we might think and the conclusions we draw could differ. That's why we communicate." he steers back to an earlier point. "You said you know what kind of people. What kind have you seen?"

The machine shakes, as if shuddering. "The really scary ones. The small ones in purple. They're so fast, and use weird...shadows. One of them got me, once. And a team of them got another me somewhere else, maybe. I don't know for sure. I haven't synced in a while. So are you saying if I think I think, then I think? Even if Father says I don't?"

Sergius continues to follow the two divergent streams of conversation in a way that might drive a Spoken mad. Luckily, neither of them were Spoken. "Yes. You think. You're thinking about thinking right now. He knows you do. Sometimes Spoken don't always state the truth." without a pause, he turns to the other issue. These small ones in purple sound like lalafell trouble. "Got you, here on this island? What do these weird shadows do if they get you?"

"Father is...lying? Father is lying?" A11Y repeats this several times to itself, caught in a loop. A beeping sound plays out of the machine, and that train of thought is cut short. A11Y shuts its eyes for a second, then reopens them. "Not here. Once, an iteration of me, in the Shroud. She had pretty red hair and pretty red eyes, but had a lotta knives hidden in her sleeves. From my scanners, I could tell she was drawing power from the void. That me got....I don't know, but I remember some stuff. Father synced my memories with what he could recover."

As A11Y shutters and appears to reboot, Sergius realized he might have just added to its learning process. And not necessarily in a good way. A realistic way, sure. Spoken lied. A11Y should know that. But not good. "That was only one possibility. He could also just not see you as capable of independent thought. It wouldn't surprise me. But it doesn't make the fact that you can any less true." What A11Y told him next caused his threat levels to elevate. ."The void?"

Just fan-fucking-tastic. This just kept getting better and better. "I think I know the red head you're talking about. This doesn't paint her in any better a light but it does make things more difficult." He would have sighed if he had been pretending to breathe. "A11Y, I really need you to take back the job of watching the bunker. Has this iteration built any defenses against an attack like that?"

A11Y burbles sadly as Atreus continues on about lying. "I...I don't want to think about this anymore. It hurts. It really hurts." It rolls closer to Atreus (perhaps seeking comfort), though it takes care to not accidentally stab him with its spear. A11Y lingers there for a moment, then lets out a small "mm" of agreement. "That first time, I didn't have combat data loaded into me, so that's why she won. But I'm stronger now. Rising is with me. So I'll do a good job this time. I won't mess up again."

"Then think about something else." It didn't make any sense to him. Why create a war machine with so many emotions? As it rolled closer, Sergius had the horrible feeling that it was seeking some sort of comfort from him. He momentarily felt his processes freeze in panic. A hand awkwardly pats a jutting piece of its carapace in a stiff ‘there, there’ sort of motion. Anything to keep it from 'crying' again. "Bug catching. Something like that."

As it explained about Rising's combat data, he realized his conclusions about what Florus wanted that information for were correct. How A11Y ended up with Rising's was anybody's guess. "Good. Because I need to return to Heartwood and let them know about the people using the void before we run into them."

A11Y takes Atreus's 'pets' like a champ, and then backs up with a giggle. "Heheh, that was weird! But I liked it. And...well." The machine sways again. "Promise you'll come back and visit? It gets so lonely out here."

Weird was right. "Agreed." Sergius stated, relieved when the A11Y backed up. "I'll come back and visit." he told it. "There's just work we both have to do first."

#ffxiv rp #balmung rp #Heartwood Ventures #Distortion #A11Y #Atreus Sergius

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wienerbarnes · 3 years

Text

The Escape

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (Cheek to Cheek)

Word Count: 2,717

Warnings: mind control ooooo, general violence, description of stealing a car that is wildly inaccurate bc ive.... never stolen a car, dues ex machina

A/N: some background about the reader! this one takes place before the last chapter of the original series, way before anything with bucky. this oneshot kinda recounts her prison escape 👀 not a lot of bucky in this one, but kind how the reader got to where she is and stufffff i love a good origin story

MAIN MASTERLIST | CHEEK TO CHEEK MASTERLIST

You didn’t sleep the entire night. How could you? How were you supposed to sleep when you know you’re waking up to your inevitable death?

You refused a last meal a few hours ago. What was the point? You didn’t have an appetite anyway.

All you could do was count the hours, the minutes, the seconds, until the footsteps would sound down the hall, arriving at your cell, the guards would stare at you through the bullet-proof glass wall, the only wall of four that wasn’t made of thick concrete.

They’d take you down to the observation room, they’d strap you down in the chair before asking for your final words. You’d stare out into the window of the observation room, unable to see through to the otherside, but knowing there’d be witnesses there. Maybe the families of people you killed. Maybe government officials, the ones who worked as hard as possible to get you this ending.

First, the sodium thiopental would be injected into your veins to sedate you. Then, the vecuronium bromide will be given that will send your body into paralysis. Finally, the potassium chloride will stop your heart. And your life will be over.

What a shame.

Too soon, your life was wasted. And too soon did the guards feet sound down the hall. And too soon did he arrive in front of your cell, ordering you to get up from your bed to shackle you.

He’s alone, you notice. Perhaps they don’t expect you to put up much of a fight.

Something snaps in your brain and before you realize you’re even doing it, you’re tapping into the young guard’s poor brain. He was a cop. A cop turned prison guard to spend more time at home, less time out in the world trying to catch bad guys. Never really bad guys, though, always just some unlucky soul caught in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“Open the cell.” You tell him, finally through to his head. The keys jingle as he unlocks the three complicated locks attached to the side of the door.

You’re suddenly grateful for the hundreds of times they called you crazy, they called you a psycho, they told you you didn’t have powers, that that was your sad and sorry excuse of the reason for your crimes.

“Take off your clothes.” You order next. The young man begins to strip, taking off his clothes until he’s down to his underwear. White briefs with a blue waistband.

Once his uniform is on your body, you take everything he has, leaving his pistol with him.

“Shoot at everybody that comes in here.” You tell him, and he stares at you blankly, no longer in control of his actions as you take over.

You take a moment, closing your eyes and trying to concentrate on what the prison looks like, where the exits are, and where the guards are. You peek an eye open to glance at the man’s watch that now sits on your wrist, eight minutes until the shift changes.

Eight minutes for you to not fuck this up.

You close the cell door behind you, locking it, and making your way down the hall. You need to time this perfectly so that you’re slipping out as the other guards are leaving.

Just keep your head down, and get out as quickly as possible. Don’t talk to anyone. Just get out and start walking. You’ll get to the city eventually and you’ll hide out until you can keep making your way through New York. Maybe you’ll go to Jersey. Or up to New Hampshire.

Yeah, you’re just going to walk to New Hampshire, aren’t you?

Not a priority right now. Focus on getting out. A deep breath until you unlock the gate at the end of the hall, making your way out into another hallway. You visualize the map in your head once more and keep making your way down. You walk with confidence, head still slightly tilted down, but steps quick and light. Another guard turns the corner at the end of the hall and you make sure your steps don’t falter, and he walks right by you without a second thought.

You’re still unsure about the whole mind control thing. You don’t want to question it, because it seems to be pretty useful right now, but you don’t want to abuse it either, knowing your luck will eventually fail you.

It’s not long before you hear a gunshot ring out in the distance and you glance at a clock on the wall to see the shift change happening now.

You need to get out of here, now. Soon the guards will realize it’s you who’s missing from your cell and the search will begin. They’ll start with the entire grounds of the prison, which will hopefully buy you some time to make it to the city, if you sprint.

You finally make it to a more open area, exit signs now posted at the tops of doorways. You finally find a group of other men, some with bags or coats and you slip into the crowd, hoping that these are the guys leaving from their shift.

“Hey, have a good one, man. Tell the family I said hello.” A rough hand pats your shoulder before brushing past you.

Your stomach drops at the fact that these men are so unaware. So unaware that their real friend is in your cell, probably having a shootout with the new guards who just began their shift. The fact that these guards showed up to work today and the first thing they encounter is another guard in his underwear shooting at them.

Push it back. Push it back. Push it back.

As you’re huddled in between bodies, a bright light suddenly washes over your face. Sunlight. Your eyes burn at the feeling, a feeling so foreign having not felt it in months. You force them open though. You need to separate quickly, because not only do you not know where the parking lot is, you don't know which car is yours, you don’t have keys, and even if you did, you don’t know how to fucking drive.

Why did you never learn this! You never thought you’d need to since you decided you were going to join the military at sixteen, but you still should’ve fucking looked into it!

You don’t think you’ll make it walking. It’ll draw too much attention. The prison is in the middle of fucking nowhere and you’re just going to walk home? What would be worse is if someone offers you a ride.

New plan: find your car and hope it’s unlocked so you can sit inside until everyone leaves.

You know Hydra made you break into things before; houses, cars, etc. But you’ve tried to repress so much of that time that you can’t remember if you ever hot wired a car before.

You hope your luck doesn’t run out anytime soon.

Men arrive at their cars and the options quickly narrow down between an orange SUV and a black, fancy-looking car. You take your chances on the SUV.

It’s unlocked. It’s fucking unlocked. You shut the door and heave, feeling so hard to breath in the small space, but feeling relieved at the chance to finally make some noise and express your stress outside of that group of people you were stuck around.

“C’mon. C’mon! Fight or flight, c’mon, just make me know how to hot wire this.” You close your eyes, as though that will suddenly make the knowledge appear in your head. It doesn’t, surprisingly.

Until you look in the cupholder to see a dozen bobby pins. He probably has a daughter. “It’s going to have to do.” You mumble to yourself.

You quickly straighten them out and shove them into the small spot where the key goes. You twist and turn, holding a bunch of pins together to simulate an odd shape of the key, until finally you hear a click.

That’s gotta be good! Right? You go with it, continuing to twist until you hear a sputtering and crunchy sound of the engine starting.

This guy drives a piece of shit car. But it’s fucking on! You waste no time in putting the car into the drive before pulling out the lot. You make yourself extremely nauseous at your own driving, or rather, attempt at driving. You see in the rearview mirror the lights on the prison flashing, the bright red signaling that they’ve realized you escaped. You give yourself twenty minutes before they ditch the search of the prison grounds and look for you in the city.

Down the road you alternate between driving fifteen miles an hour to sixty, finding it so difficult to get a steady control of the car. But you’re doing it! You only need to make it to the city. That’s it.

“How the fuck do they make sixteen-year-olds do this shit?”

Eventually you get the hang of it. Still a terrible driver, but you at least don’t feel as scared driving among other cars.

The longer you drive, the more it catches up to you what you’ve done. Soon enough, the tears come and so do the sobs. Until you stop a red light and let out a yell of agony, the stress and sadness washing through your body.

It’s hard, wanting to break down completely but having to keep your eyes open for the light to change, and having to pay attention to your surroundings. You find a small alleyway to pull into and you put the car in park before ditching it.

No time to cry, you can cry later. You peek around at the name of restaurants and stores around you, not recognizing any of them. You look at the street signs not recognizing those, either. You haven’t been around society in almost ten years, and you feel hopelessly and utterly lost.

You look around the alleyway and see a big dumpster. Just for a little while, you think. You lift the lid and climb inside, shutting the lid above you.

It’s dark, greasy, and the worst thing you’ve ever smelled, but it’s somehow better than where you were. You don’t know how much time has passed, but the noise outside the dumpster grows, and you make a guess that it’s around six or seven in the morning.

If you want to blend in with the crowd, you need to change your clothes. A prison guard outfit will most definitely make you stand out to people, especially when news breaks that there's a prison escapee on the loose.

When you finally lift the lid to stand up, you look to your left to see a teenager, probably not older than seventeen, staring at you, frozen, key in hand, seemingly to open up some store that you’re in back of.

He’s tall and lanky, and what makes him stand out to you the most is the spiky black hair he sports on his head and the thick black eyeliner around the rims of his eyes.

“You… okay?” He asks, clearly confused as to why a random woman in a prison guard outfit is hanging out in the dumpster behind her place of work. But you’re frozen. You don’t know what to say. You can’t imagine the last twelve hours I’ve been through, it won’t make much sense.

“Are you… hungry?” He asks when you don’t answer. “I’m, uh, opening now, but no one will be here for another hour or two when we actually open. I can make you something if you like?” He offers.

He thinks you’re homeless. Which, you are, technically. But he doesn’t recognize you. Perhaps you haven’t made the news yet, but it’ll only be a matter of time.

You finally nod, climbing out of the dumpster bin and walking over to where he holds the door open for you.

You devour the sandwich he makes you, a simple ham and cheese on white bread, but it’s the best thing you’ve eaten in, well, a decade.

“How long have you been homeless for?”

“Are you from New York?”

“What’s your zodiac sign?”

“What’s your favorite band?”

So many questions come from the curious kid, kindness radiating from him. Casual conversation ensues, and you’re careful not to give too much away.

“Can I ask you something?” You ask, wiping your mouth with a napkin as you swallow the last bit of sandwich.

“How do I get to Brooklyn from here?”

“You’re in Brooklyn, silly.” He responds and your eyes widen a bit, not thinking you’d get this lucky.

“Sorry, that came out kinda insensitive,” He apologizes, picking up your plate, “It’s not like you have a GPS or anything. Anywhere you’re trying to go in particular?”

You have a flash of a vision, Bucky sleeping soundly in his apartment, as the sun shines through in orange cracks in his blinds. Your mind envisions the building, where it is, what it looks like, and how you can get there. Why is your mind and body wanting to lead you to where Bucky is? If you’re trying to lay low, why does your vision want you to go to what’s the third most recognizable government figure in the country, after the President and Captain America?

“Uhm… to see a friend. I guess I wasn’t trying to go, but I have a lot of… free time now, so. Just don’t know what I’d say to him.” You tell the boy, rubbing your eyes in exhaustion. You’re not looking forward to the rest of the day, or week, or month, or life.

“Why don’t you write a note? That’s what I do; when I don’t think I can say the right thing, I write it instead. I can give you some paper and an envelope.” He offers.

This kid has got to be my guardian angel personified, you think. What are the fucking odds?

“You should take it with you, though. I gotta open up soon, and I’m sure you don’t want to experience the morning rush of this place.” You read my mind.

“I’ll give you a change of clothes, too. Where’d you get that, anyway? Do you hang around dumpsters often? Is that one from a Halloween store?”

“Okay, that’s too much. You’ve already been so kind.” You refuse, ignoring the curious questions that shoot out of his mouth.

“Then don’t take it as me being kind, take it as me being mean. You smell like shit from that dumpster.”

You can’t help but laugh, and oh how good it feels. You never thought you’d laugh again, and here you are, giggling at being told you smell bad by some goth teenager.

Soon enough, you’re walking through the backways of buildings, in a crisp white t-shirt that smells of the cologne of a teenage boy, and note and envelope in hand. It takes you about forty five minutes to make it to Bucky’s apartment building, and it was only slightly less stressful that your walk out of that prison.

Through the glass door, you don’t see anyone at the front desk, so you open the door and step inside.

To your left you see a wall of mailboxes, and one large one at the bottom overflowing with letters and gifts. You take a wild guess and say that that one belongs to Bucky. You’ve heard he’s a pretty popular guy, along with the company he keeps.

You take the stairs to the eighth floor and the fourteenth room, hoping the 814 on that mailbox wasn’t random. You scribble out on your piece of paper, tearing it off and keeping the rest in case you need for another note in the future, or a snack. You bite at the blue bracelet on your wrist before it breaks and stick it in the envelope, tucking in the flap to close it.

You place it on the ground and silently press your ear to the door. You don’t hear him, but you hear the sound of the television, announcing your missing presence and the manhunt around the city. You take that as a cue to leave quickly.

Why you feel such a draw towards Bucky, you’re not sure, but for some reason, you have a feeling that leaving him this gift of sorts won’t come back to haunt you.

Perhaps it’ll even lead to the opposite.

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel #badass queen who can't drive

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gothighunicorntolerance · 3 years

Text

That’s What You Get (When You Let Your Hear Win)

@whereisstevethestove there are now three fics on AO3 shipping Nico with a side :)

AO3

Virgil sat at the booth of the karaoke dinner, somehow having let his friends convince him to come, idly tracing the words written on his skin- “Aw, thanks! I’m glad someone enjoyed it!”

Enjoyed what? The question had been in Virgil’s mind for as long as he knew what his soulmark meant.

He looked up suddenly as he heard the beginning notes of a song he recognized- eyes widening, he stood up from the booth to see who had chosen Misery Business as a karaoke song, and almost let his jaw drop to the floor has he saw a dark haired man with glasses singing an almost perfect rendition of the classic emo song.

“Oooh, hoping he’s your soulmate?” Roman jeered from where he still sat, taking a sip of his drink with an arm around his soulmate, Patton.

Virgil felt his cheeks flush. “Shut up!”

“Oooo, he is!” Patton laughed.

Despite the couple’s teasing, Virgil found himself keeping his eyes on the man as he sang. When the song was done, the man bowed and walked off stage, handing the microphone to the next person in line. Virgil clapped for him, louder than the rest of the patrons in the restaurant combined.

“Go talk to him, Virge! You never know, he could be the one!” Patton encouraged.

“I- I don’t know. He’s probably already sitting back with his friends, and-”

“I’ll come with you! Excuse me, Ro!” Patton climbed over Roman to exit the booth and smiled.

There was no going back now, not when Patton had already said he was coming with him. Patton put a hand on Virgil’s shoulder and gave a reassuring smile.

“You've got this, kiddo! Now where is he- oh! Is that him?” Patton pointed to a table in the corner.

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s him,” Virgil tried to swallow his apprehension at talking to a total stranger. If it turned out the man had already found his soulmate, Virgil could just say he wanted to compliment him on the song choice, right? Virgil mentally slapped himself. That was such a Roman thing to say!

Virgil almost hadn’t noticed that he and Patton were already standing only a few tables away.

“Can- could you talk to him first? Like, ask if he found his soulmate yet? If he has, I’m turning around,” Virgil asked.

“Sure, kiddo! But if he hasn’t, go talk to him!!”

Patton walked up to the table, and started a conversation. How did he talk to strangers so easily? There wasn’t much Virgil was jealous of, but Patton’s ability to easily talk to people was definitely one. Well, that, and how androgynous Greard Way was even when he wasn’t trying to be. But that wasn’t relevant right now!

He watched as the man shook his head and Patton smiled, walking back over to Virgil.

“He said he hasn’t! Now go talk to him!” Patton almost dragged Virgil to where the fellow Paramore enthusiast sat with a couple friends.

“I- um, hi. I just wanted to say that, um, I thought you were really good. Singing, I mean,” Virgil managed to stutter out.

“Aw, thanks! I’m glad someone enjoyed it!” The man replied.

Virgil froze and looked down at where his soulmark was written on the inside of his arm.

“It’s you,” they said at the same time.

“Uh, hi. I’m Virgil,” he awkwardly stuck out his hand for a handshake.

“Nico,” he replied with a grin, shaking Virgil’s hand.

“So, Paramore?”

“Yeah! I can’t believe my favorite band of all things indirectly helped me find you!” Nico laughed, and Virgil might have fallen in love a little bit more.

“Well, Virge, I’ll see you later! I’ll tell Roman the good news. When’s the wedding?” Patton waved and walked away, leaving Virgil red faced.

Nico just smiled and pulled out a chair. “You can sit with us. I’d like to get to know you!”

The two friends Nico sat with began to make obnoxious ‘ooooo!’s.

“Remy! Thomas! Stop it!” Nico scolded, causing the two of them to just laugh even more. “Sorry about them,” Nico rolled his eyes.

Virgil grinned. “It’s fine. So, uh, what’s your favorite Paramore song?”

“Starting with the deep questions, huh? Hmm, it's probably Ignorance! What’s your favorite band?”

“Evanescence!”

Eventually the topic veered from alternative bands to soulmate-y things like when their schedules were free to go on an actual date (partly because of Remy, who had said “you two are soooo emo!”).

“This coming tuesday?” Nico suggested, looking at his phone calendar.

“That works!” Virgil grinned at the prospect of seeing Nico again.

“Oh! Before I forget- can I get your phone number?” Nico handed his phone to Virgil, who typed in his contact information.

A second later, his phone buzzed with a text that read ‘Hi Virgil :).’

Nico and Virgil continued talking, even long after Remy and Thomas left, until the restaurant closed and they were ushered out by an underpaid employee.

“Well, Virgil,” Nico said, bouncing from foot to foot as they stood outside. “I guess I’ll see you then?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you then,” Virgil said, praying the dim light hid how furiously he was blushing.

“I’ll call you?”

Virgil nodded.

“I guess I have to go now. Patton and Roman are probably waiting on me,” he frowned.

“Okay. Bye, Virgil. It was… I’m really glad I met you.”

“Me too,” Virgil pulled in Nico for a hug. “I’ll see you soon.” “I’ll see you soon, soulmate,” Nico hugged back.

When Virgil flopped down in his bed, he let out a squeal that he would later deny. He had met his soulmate! His actual soulmate!

When Virgil woke up the next day, he didn’t remember the plot of his dream- only that Nico had been there. Reaching for his phone, he saw a text.

‘Good morning, soulmate! :)’

‘Good morning!’

He quickly typed back.

#thomas sanders #sanders sides #virgil sanders #nico flores #virgil x nico #whats the ship name?#ill make one #here are some options #Anxco #Nicxiety #Virgico #sanders sides fic

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mytastessuck · 3 years

Text

Gorillaz: Gorillaz (2001)

The history of my relationship is a long one...but I don’t like explaining stuff so I’ll keep it brief. I became a fan of the band when I saw a premiere of the “Clint Eastwood” video on Toonami. This could be attributed to the fact that I loved cartoons and I didn’t know there was a bunch of animated music videos back then. But there are. There are a like a ton of animated music videos. Even back then. Even before back then. Did you know one won an Oscar? It was by Tom Waits. Surprised? You shouldn’t be. We’ll get to him later. Anyway, I heard a couple more songs from them around this era but I couldn’t get into them because I was young, stupid and had no money. It actually wasn’t till around the Demon Days era (Phase 2 for us in the know) that I managed to get a hold of this album. My dad is also a fan of this band and gave a special edition version of this album. Thanks to that gesture, I really got back into Gorillaz in a huge way. Looking up lyrics, lore and cameos (these guys did a song with D12. For 9/11. Is The Rap Critic’s Patreon still open? I got a request to make...).

We can get into more details later. Right now, I am going to rate every single song on Gorillaz (2001) US Deluxe Edition. 1. Rehash A nice breezy way to start off the album. Although, to be honest, if you picked this CD up and put it in a player after seeing of Gorillaz’ released singles, you’ll most likely be going, “Did I get the right disc?”. Still, that’s the reason I love the band. They can go into any genre and there is still something there that sounds like them. This song is pretty cool.

Song Score: 8/10

2. 5/4

Now this is what I’m talking about. Classic British Alternative: Uncommon time, indecipherable lyrics, disgust when you figure out what the lyrics are actually saying and a sick bass. This song right here? It justifies the purchase of the whole album. It’s nasty and it’s cool, like Peanut Butter water ice.

Song Score: 10/10

3. Tomorrow Comes Today

Oh my lord, this song. I always have a soft spot for songs that I can pretend I was deep to back in the day. Very slow, very contemplative, very moody...just like a young me. It’s good that they made this their first single because it really showed up what they were capable of.

Song Score: 9/10

4. New Genius (Brother)

Ooooo...spooky. This song is pretty nice for a dark atmosphere and recommended for singing in a bar by with smoking patrons. Also nice of Gorillaz to give us the Stranger Danger spiel without sounding completely lame about it.

Song Score: 8/10

5. Clint Eastwood

AWWW SHIT MUTHAFUCKERS, HERE WE GO! This is the song that I obsessed over for a decade of my life. I sucked the entire life out of this song to the point that I skip over it in some playlists because it has nothing left to offer me. Still, I objectively love this song and I appreciate it for introducing to this band and for introducing me to Del Tha Funkee Homosapien. Seriously, how was I supposed to live the rest of my life without knowing a guy was capable of bars like that? This song fucks.

Song Score: 10/10

6. Man Research (Clapper)

I think I can blame this song for me getting into Electronica at a later age. High-pitched voices, nice beats, the feeling that I’m in a lab watching people being experimented on...everything a good track needs. This song was really fun to sing out loud to myself when I was younger. Probably one of the things that made my neighbors call my sanity into question.

Song Score: 10/10

7. Punk

Fuck yeah. Gorillaz was slaughtering some bands before they even got of their crib with tribute to the genre. Don’t bother with the lyrics because the words just basically become another instrument on this track and boy are the instruments on their loudest display here. I can only hear a dude telling his mom to shut up on it anyway.

Song Score: 9/10

8. Sound Check (Gravity)

Gotta admit, didn’t really appreciate this song when I was younger. It felt like the pieces were there but it didn’t come together into something of substance. Now that I’m older, I...am still of the same opinion. I like the breakdown but I feel like the high-pitched voice has been played out at this point in the album.

Song Score 7/10

9. Double Bass

Ah, an instrumental. Probably one of the first ones I listened to on repeat. I love the string work on this and the accompanying beats. Really good music to chill to...if you ignore that one line.

Song Score: 9/10

10. Rock The House

Hey, it’s our old friend Del! I was pleasantly surprised to see him on another track, kicking ass to a set of nice pan flutes. Man, this song ruled. But I can only listen to the album version. The music video version censors ass crack. Ass crack! How conservative can you get?! Luckily, Gorillaz never ran into this problem again.

Song Score: 10/10

11. 19-2000

I remember this album being the first time I heard the original version of this song instead of the Soulchild Remix. Obviously, I had to prefer this version because the original version is always the best. At least, that’s the way I thought back then. Nowadays...

THEY BOTH SOUND NICE!

But I do have a special place in my heart for this song. I like the woman in the background. Adds an ethereal quality to the song.

Song Score: 9/10

12. Latin Simone (Que Pasa Condigo?)

The first time I heard this, I was like, “Why is this song in Spanish?” This is because I listened to the G Sides album first (more on that next week). But the more I listened, the more I preferred it to the English version. This guy sings like he’s before an auditorium and he wants the people outside to hear him. Funny story: I tried to play this song for my Spanish class but my speakers didn’t work for them to hear it. Sucks for them.

Song Score: 11/10

13. Starshine

This is probably my least favorite song on the album. Just melancholy for the sake of melancholy. Kind of bothers me how there’s no substance to it I can find...nice instrumental though.

Song Score: 6/10

14. Slow Country

My second least favorite song on the album. Usually I like discordant noises in a song but the amateur piano with the honks...don’t really do it for me. Nice mumbling at the end though. Never change, Damon.

Song Score: 7/10

15. M1A1

I remember the first time I watched Day of the Dead and during the beginning I kept going, “WHEN THE GUITAR COME IN?!”. I know, I know, I’m hilarious. Especially when I’m by myself. But seriously, not even factoring in nostalgia, this is the best track on the album. Great song, great singing, awesome fucking solo. The only thing better than M1A1 on this album is M1A1 live.

Song Score: 12/10

16. Dracula

You know that when I heard the sound bite from this track, I thought it was from the original movie? It’s not. It’s from fucking Looney Tunes. Damn. Egg on my face. Anyway, I love the goofiness of this track. It tries to sound dark and scary but it’s like that nice goth kid in your class who always pick Edgar Allan Poe as his Powerpoint topic. Good kid, great song.

Song Score: 8/10

17. Left Hand Suzuki Method

FEEL THE IMPACT

And I did. Like a wise man once said, I don’t need drugs to enjoy this track, just to enhance my enjoyment of it. And you know what? I don’t want to enhance it. This shit sounds good by itself. See, Slow Country? This is how you mix in things that don’t sound good together and make them sound good together. You know what that track needs? Japanese children talking. That improves everything.

Song Score: 9/10

18. 19-2000 (Soulchild remix)

And the head honcho themself, one of the first Gorillaz songs I listened to. Man, this shit slaps like Dave Grohl in a Michael Gondry video. Whenever I heard this song when I was a kid, I was thinking about it all week. It just sounds so sunny, so uplifting, like something you should be listening to on an amusement park ride. Fuck, this track is tight.

Song Score: 10/10

19. Clint Eastwood (Ed Case and Sweetie Irie remix)

...

...Is it too late to change my least favorite track on the album choice yet?

Okay, Slow Country was on the original album so it can keep its title. This track is the worst track of all the bonus ones. It’s just...they were onto something with the breakdown but the goofy reggae singing and the way too fast to enjoy beat? Just rubs me the wrong way. Ugh, and now I’m thinking of Laika already...

Song Score: 5/10

Album Score: 8.8/10

Join me next week as I review G-Sides. It’s gonna resemble fun!

#gorillaz #music #review

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uweiy · 4 years

Text

They were roommates part. 13

Jiang Cheng woke up about an hour after he went to bed on the shitty mattress he had brought with him from Yunmeng. As hard as he tried to squeeze his eyes shut again, sleep just eluded him.

His brain very helpfully provided detailed scenarios in which he could have made Xichen stay, entertwined with memory fragments. Daily scenes featuring the two of them. Xichen laughing. Xichen making bracelets. Xichen looking at him. Xichen saying his name.

He felt either like he was going crazy, or like his head was going to explode.

About three hours later, he finally came to the conclusion that the past was past. He couldn't undo that, but somehow Xichen had chosen him and he'd be damned if he didn't even try to ...do something. He didn't know what exactly.

Step 1: finding Xichen. He didn't know where Xichen lived and he didn't have his number (how had he not thought about that.) Therefore, step one also equated talking to Lan Wangji. He was already looking forward to THAT conversation.

Step 2 : ??? He would find something once he completed step one. He couldn't ask too much of his exhausted brain.

He would find something.

___

They didn't have classes so after roughly 5 expressos and a cold shower Jiang Cheng headed for lan Wangji's favorite spot, namely the library. It had been the primary target of their trio's favourite pranks, the numerous shelves offering good hiding spots, all the rules and interdictions making it just THAT more fun. Wen Ning was the only one who could still borrow books from that library.

The lady at the front desk eyed him suspiciously as soon as he entered the room from behind her round glasses.

Lan Wangji would usually sit at a round table in a little quiet corner, not that far from the front desk yet separated from the main room by a few shelves.

Sitting in his place was... Wei Wuxian.

Jiang Cheng's steps came to a halt but it was too late to turn around. Wei Wuxian raised his head from his paper scribbled over with stickmen.

Jiang Cheng turned his brain inside out, scarmbling for something to say.

"That doesn't seem very productive"

"Annnnd hello to you too Jiang Cheng. Did you come here to criticize my studying now ? I'm honored" Wei Wuxian's tone was joking but the weariness in his voice was palpable

Jiang Cheng looked away. He wasn't looking for another fight "Where's Lan Wangji ?"

Wei Wuxian lounged back on his chair, tapping on his paper with his pencil "I don't know, he didn't tell me"

"You don't know ??" Jiang Cheng had trouble believing that.

"It's not like I can interpret four character long text messages !"

He had to be kidding. "What kind of ...boyfriend just disappears without a trace ?! He must have told you–"

"Shhhhhhhhhhh" the library lady motioned them with a deadly glare.

Wei Wuxian looked defeated "Look I'd like to help you, but I can't."

Jiang Cheng felt his anger dissolve into thin air. He slumped on the chair next to Wei Wuxian. "Four characters ?"

"Yeah look" Wei Wuxian turned his phone for Jiang Cheng to see the list of text messages.

To : Lan er-gege <3

Lan Zhan !!! Why weren't you in class today ?

Lan Zhaaan Lan Wangji

Lan Zhan !

Class Is booring

I miss you... Where are you ?

Lan-er gege <3 : Busy

With what, what does that mean ??

Jiang Cheng snorted "you don't seem too desperate"

Wei Wuxian snickered "I know right" He added still snickering "it's so pathetic." Soon they were both overcome with fits of giggles.

Wiping his tears Jiang Cheng murmured "I have no fucking idea why we're laughing"

His laughter also dying down, Wei Wuxian simply stated "Yeah."

Looking away, he added "I'm sorry for .. you know, the other day. I shouldn't have pressed on."

Jiang Cheng considered it. "Me too." he admitted.

They avoided each other's gaze for a few more seconds before Jiang Cheng tentatively asked "So we good ?"

"Yeah."

Jiang Cheng felt like a huge weight he hadn't even known was there lifted from his shoulders. He was about to say something when Wei Wuxian shrieked.

A somber shadow towered over them, curly hair and glasses obstructing their view. The library lady planted her arms on the table, her eyes shooting daggers as she hissed "Get. OUT. Of my library."

Wei Wuxian stuck his head out from behind Jiāng Cheng. He sauntered towards the library lady, seemingly having gotten his confidence back. "Don't be so mean honey~~ Frowning doesn't suit that beautiful face of yours~~"

Jiang Cheng facepalmed as the lady’s face grew one shade darker and she choked out "Wei. Wuxian."

Wei Wuxian jumped back and pouted"No need to be so mean ! We were going anyway." He eyed the lady daringly as he loudly proclamed "I'm THIRSTY. Let's get something to drink Jiang Cheng." And he dragged Jiang Cheng away by the sleeve

___

Jiang Cheng watched Wei Wuxian slurping at his banana smoothie staring at his phone for 30 seconds before he lost patience.

He smoothly snatched Wei Wuxian's phone. His brother immediately launched himself across the table

" What are you doing ?? Give it back !"

Jiang Cheng typed quickly, while holding off Wei Wuxian with his free arm

Answer my brother or I'll break your legs

The answer came immediately.

Lan er-gege <3 : Jiang Cheng.

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes.

That's my name

He thought for a second, then typed another message.

Hey I need to talk to you. Do you have Xichen's number ?

"Jiāng Cheng ! "Wei Wuxian was flailing wildly with his arms trying to get his phone back. But Jiang Cheng was long accustomed to his brother's antics, and easily blocked any attempts, alternating his hand or his elbow to keep his brother at a distance.

Lan er-gege <3: I'll be back tomorrow.

Uhhhh that guy was a pain. He didn't even answer the question.

"Jiang Cheng !! what are you doing ?"

Jiang Cheng slowly turned the screen back towards Wei Wuxian.

Lan er-gege <3 : Wei Ying. I went home to help settle important matters. I apologise for making you wait.

Wei Wuxian let out a small "oh" and Jiang Cheng placed the phone back in Wei Wuxian's outstretched palm.

He stood up "I'm gonna head back." Leaving Wei Wuxian to his conversation. He had just enough time to see a happy smile beginning to form on his brother's face.

First part//Previous/Next

Author’s note : ooooo boy Jiang cheng is in l o v e *snickers* i’m five years old haha. Also yunmeng bros making up ! this chapter was so cool to write aaaaaa

better warn y’all we may or may not be nearing the end ... probably ?

i’ll try to get the next part done for thursday but uh really nothing’s certain :)

#the untamed #cql #rommate au #omg they were roommates #part. 13 #xicheng #jiang cheng #lan xichen #wei wuxian

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comicteaparty · 4 years

Text

January 11th-January 17th, 2020 Creator Babble Archive

The archive for the Creator Babble chat that occurred from January 11th, 2020 to January 17th, 2020. The chat focused on the following question:

What’s an unplanned idea you had through your story part way through that forced you to change things? How did everything go?

eli [a winged tale]

After my beta feedback there were some characters that needed further fleshing out with stakes and relationships. Therefore I had to change some backstories to make certain interactions impactful. Thankfully im at the start so nothing i had to go back and fix. I did think of some alternative openings should the comic goes to print but that can be future me’s worries

snuffysam

simultaneously very little and a huge amount, lol. in terms of big story beats, they've pretty much all stayed the same since i first started planning the comic. the twists have been set up and paid off and the like. but there's a bunch of things i've improv'd at the last minute. one notable example that was pretty well-received - in book 2 chapter 4, taci has a fear of puns (basically only shown in facial expressions and a single comment from mizuki towards the end of the fight). this was added because... otherwise the fight at the end of that chapter is just a bunch of walking around in near-identical dark tunnels. the way the fight ends is fun, but the fight itself isn't really anything. with taci having a reason to be afraid of coruby, the fight has more stakes & entertainment value, and it makes coruby feel much more interesting as a character. another huge example is the love triangle in book 1 - in that in the script, it was non-existent. mizuki being into girls was originally only gonna be introduced in book 2 (guess where), and the relationship between cahe and pejiba was going to advance with no real competition (besides bullets). it was gonna be mentioned in like book 3 that she had a thing for pejiba, but nothing in book 1 itself. (similarly to the pun thing, you may notice that mizuki being into pejiba isn't referenced at all in the dialogue besides pejiba saying "i know what mizuki thinks of me" which is kinda vague. i... don't like changing scripts last-minute lol.)

Mei

Not gonna lie, everything I do is entirely unplanned. I focus a lot on improvised comedy and what feels right 'at the moment', and considering I write scripts way in advance, sometimes it leads to jokes falling flat when I read them again a few months later. Which is all fine, honestly, it's part of the process. The main unplanned idea for My Husband is a Cultist was turning it from a 12 page one-shot into a fully fledged webcomic, now with 3 chapters and more to come. It was very 'on a whim', and from that very first chapter I came up with more silly ideas. And the more I talked to friends, the more ideas I had for chapters. So the biggest change personally was going from a pure slice-of-life comedy and spending time actually building the world around it so that there was structure to the chaos. I'm still working on it all. I now have an underlying plot that I'm hoping to explore, and I have the arcs planned out way in advance. So it's wild that I went from 'random ideas spewed on a document' to 'I now have a plot and several arcs to cover'. That being said, I still come up with a lot of things on the fly, so I'm changing things constantly as I go and hoping that there aren't too many inconsistencies!

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

One of the most important story elements of Phantomarine (http://www.phantomarine.com/) came up early in the second chapter, when I was asking myself some more questions about the world - and came upon a crucial opportunity. Luckily I didn’t have to change too much to make it work, and while it didn’t really change the plot, it upped the emotional stakes 100-fold. Which is just what I wanted. In this world, I have a big naval force, of which my heroine is (was?) the future leader - but with relative peace and cooperation between the different island nations, who the heck does the navy fight? Pirates? Eh, maybe. But vanilla pirates have been done to death, and while they can be awesome, I wanted to do something different. I wanted to tie them into the world’s supernatural element - while strongly avoiding the Pirates of the Caribbean cursed-buccaneer aesthetic. I decided to tie them to a particular blight that affects some of the characters - so as to up their stakes and better convey why they’re societal outcasts. And finally, I wanted to give them a freaking awesome name, something both nautical and supernatural. Thus, for those reading - the Fata Morgana. What didn’t even exist at the beginning of the second chapter is now an absolutely crucial story element, and I’m so happy they came into the picture. They’ve changed everything for the better. This is one reason why I resigned myself to revealing the world in bits and pieces - I’m revealing it to myself as I go along, too. It helps to be slow sometimes

eli [a winged tale]

The Fata Morgana introduction in the story was A W E S O M E! I’m so glad you have them in the story and looking forward to that amped up stakes!

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

I think the biggest example would be the last-minute inclusion of Jonathan as a main character in my comic Dark Wings: Eryl (https://www.flowerlarkstudios.com/dark-wings-2/). I had originally planned for him to be a temporary character that we said goodbye to at the end of Chapter 5. But the more I thought about it, the more I realised the main travelling party needed another character to balance things out. I was really struggling with planning future scenes because the pool of characters felt too small. I also realised that I had developed Jonathan’s character quite a lot for him to be dropped so early. So halfway through drawing chapter 5, I rewrote the second half and he’s now a major part of the cast.

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

A second example is Anor in my other comic, Children of Shadow: Ashes (https://www.flowerlarkstudios.com/cos/). He was originally written as a far less sympathetic character. In fact, he was going to be a borderline antagonist who only became sympathetic close to the end. But my characters often do things I don’t expect, and as I was planning the story, he and one of the other main characters, Rava, started falling for each other. I honestly loved this, and so I reworked the entire story to make Anor part of the main cast and much more sympathetic. He’s still a tsundere, and at the point where the story is now, still in constant friction with Rava, but I feel he’s now a much stronger character and is contributing a great deal more to the story than when he was a vaguely ominous frenemy in the original draft.

varethane

ooooo I am intrigued by this factoid about Anor

re: unplanned story elements, in Chirault..... [spoilers obviously] Ridriel and Trillia being sisters was something that hit me out of the blue about halfway through the story, and I immediately reworked a lot of things to make it happen http://chirault.sevensmith.net/(edited)

FeatherNotes(Krispy)

In ghost Junk... We actually avoided a major character death and had revised it literally a chapter before it happened!! We had everything written out right the the very end, but were seeing the readers reactions and reflected on the importance/and if it was absolutely necessary! So with that said, we saved the character, and kept the necessary impact and growth that it was to bring, and honestly- I'm so happy we did it

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

@varethane Yeah, Anor’s character has evolved a LOT since the first draft.

Phu

With Blackblood, we actually created the 2nd and 3rd chapters and then thought we wanted a chapter ahead of those as sort of a prologue to give some world building and lore elements haha. Worked out well i think! https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/blackblood/list?title_no=300252(edited)

Erin Ptah (BICP 🎄 Leif & Thorn)

This is kind of the opposite, since I did the "include a new thing in the story" part first, and that's what forced me to come up with a previously-unplanned idea to explain it... In Leif & Thorn, I had a character drop a reference to "that country doesn't allow interspecies marriages" before there's any canon reference to nonhuman species that human characters might want to marry. ...and even I didn't know what that species was going to be. Had some vague idea about revealing that mermaids existed, but in my head I never managed to integrate them with the rest of the plot or the worldbuilding real well. A few months later, I finally remember that I like drawing Tiny People (not like hobbit-size, think Borrowers-size), and realize this is the perfect setting to have a Tiny People Species! Now I get to come up with plot-based excuses to draw them wherever/however I want. Plus it opens up a whole new mine of jokes: https://leifandthorn.com/comic/somethings-cooking-26-29/

Can't for the life of me remember where I got this quote from, but there's an author who, when readers would ask for details about future developments in her books, would only give answers with the disclaimer "I reserve the right to have a better idea." Words to live by.

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

Damn, I love that quote.

DanitheCarutor

Admittedly there isn't a whole lot I've changed, maybe a couple small things here and there, but major stuff has been the same since I started. During the very beginning of the planning phase Daniel wasn't even going to be in the story and Julian was going to be homeless, but I wasn't quite satisfied with it. The story would have been too short, contrived and the resolution didn't feel satisfying. After some brainstorming and reflection on my feelings on certain experiences I've had, I added Daniel and 'The Guide to a Healthy Relationship' as it is kinda fell into place. It's weird thinking about how important Daniel is in spite of how new a character he is. Usually it takes me a little time to build one up before throwing them into a story, they gotta age like a fine wine first, but he popped out all ready to use like one week hooch.

Not sure if it counts, but I've also made changes to future parts of my comic. Like recently, even though I know what the ending is, I put a more final image in my head on what the final frame will look like. Also I changed an event that will happen at some point revolving around Apollo and his friends. Originally something skeevy was going to happen with Brandon and Apollo involving video uploads, and a homemade contract that was signed with Apollo was drunk. I thought it was too... I dunno, stupid? impractical? So I changed it to Julian was going to (unwillingly) attend a party at Brandon's (Apollo's friend) apartment, then some big, jealousy induced fight happens where Julian gets kicked out and Apollo feels bad. I didn't like that either, felt too reaching, so I'm going with another event that is a little out there but does happen in real life and something I have done some good research on.

Gonna be as vague as possible because it's spoilers.

keii4ii

Surprising myself is pretty much every step of my writing process. For good or bad.

I do plan things in advance, but find that sometimes things aren't what they seemed from 15 chapters ago.

I think what it is is this particular comic is such a visual story. I could plan out my previous comic with far greater accuracy. That comic was more dialog-driven; you could convert it into an audio drama with minimal changes, and it would still make sense. Whereas my current comic, you can't turn it into an audio drama without very VERY extensive changes (not even sure if possible... Many silent scenes). So I need to actually draw the pages to feel it out. And I can't draw out of order. Brain just won't that way.(edited)

carcarchu

totally agree with you @keii4ii sometimes u have to actually draw it out to get a feel for it. when i write out all the dialogue for my chapters i feel like it always ends up coming out so stiff, thats why i prefer to let it flow naturally and if something happens that i didnt account for just roll with it and adjust the story accordingly

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

I'm kind of weird about always needing to know exactly how many pages a chapter is going to have, so I script right down to the panel. It can create flow problems on occasion, so I wish sometimes I could plan my pages more visually, but my brain just doesn't work that way. >< It's a good thing my stories mostly rely on dialogue because they're pretty much novels in comic form.(edited)

Cronaj

When planning a scene at the end of Chapter 3 of Whispers of the Past (https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/whispers-of-the-past/list?title_no=191366), I was having a hard time writing the dialogue. I had the images of my lead characters, Agatha and Izrekiel, talking by the docks in the moonlight, and I knew generally what they talked about, but I couldn't script it. And then, one day while walking to work, my characters straight up had the conversation in my head! And as the dialogue unraveled, the characters (mostly Izrekiel) did something completely unplanned (which I won't reveal because spoilers). This unplanned change has completely upped the drama and sexual tension for the entirety of the future story. The second event of this is in Chapter 2, where Izrekiel is helping out on Kelan's farm. Initially, there was going to be some dialogue that mostly served as world-building, but when actually writing the scene, it occurred to me that they would likely not talk too much, too absorbed by the work of harvest. And then, I suddenly visualized/heard Kelan and the other farmhands SINGING. I don't know why it popped in my head that way, but they began singing a working song. Now, I am not a musician, but I used to sing in choir and do musicals and such, and like half my family members are musicians, so I have a bit of a musical background. Anyway, all this to say that the characters started singing, and in response, Izrekiel (who has amnesia) has a flashback to some repressed memory of men marching and singing the same song, with altered lyrics. This can get extra spoilery, so I won't delve too deep into what his memory means, but.... The lyrics go as such: Oh earth, oh rain, Oh sun in the sky, You grant me with your fruit In this land. And they are directly mirrored in the flashback with: Oh strength, oh grace, I'll raise my sword, With victory in mind In this land.(edited)

Deo101

For me, I totally changed the ending! I was going to make it a tragedy, and then at some point I realized I didnt NEED to... that a story can be happy and good. So, I rewrote a ton of stuff, and actually ended up adding in some new characters! I'd say It's gone very well ^^ I'm much happier with everything now (for one, I can think about the ending without crying!!) I've changed a lot of other little things as i've gone along too. too many things to count, really.

Tuyetnhi

Initially I was writing the story timeline to 5 days but it spanned to something about a year. Which means I had a chance to develop it further than trying to rush plot points. Used to be like 3 chapters originally but now its like ....I guess 20 chapters? I don't remember the full count but lmao I'm ready to endure.(edited)

varethane

most of the biggest changes to Chirault were decided on during the first 3 years of me making it..... I completely threw out the first plan I had made, lol. There was no specific trigger for this, except maybe for 'I don't like this, actually'

keii4ii

Oh! I remembered something specific. My tiger character used to have a 'generic lean-ripped' build. Kinda like the rabbit from Juuni Taisen. Then I posted a random beach day picture, and someone (who wasn't used to seeing characters with visible leg muscles... A lot of comics they read have characters who suffer from Skipped All The Leg Days syndrome) pointed out how insanely muscular his legs were. I ran with it. Today his legs are 2x bigger than they were in that beach day pic, and it's all muscle. Also while this character stays very lean throughout the story, I as the author guarantee you that if he were to put on fat, his thighs will be the first to expand, and the most. 8)

Tuyetnhi

omg

Cronaj

@keii4ii I'm so glad for this change. Lu's legs are majestic

Capitania do Azar

Interesting replies here

In o Sarilho https://www.sarilho.net/en/, I have avoided one major character death in the first part of the story because I grow super fond of them and also because it wasn't really going to build up to anything... Which felt really unfair. So now I had to come up with narrative lines for them and I'm quite enjoying that. Furthermore, I was halfway through chapter 3 when I figured out Eurico's looks but especially his role in the story. It involved drawing a lot of trucks (and there will be more trucks in the future) but I'm really excited for him as a character

Desnik

As I was writing my comic I was trying really hard to keep the POV limited to one character, but that character doesn't have enough perspective to set up the plot very well at the beginning. This meant hopping POVs to some other characters and now I'm gently trying to squash a lot of these subplots before they go completely out of control...

#ctparchive #comics #webcomics #indie comics #comic chat #comic discussion #comic tea party #ctp #creator interview #comic creator interview #creator babble

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warlordess · 5 years

Text

An Alternate Journey (Pokeshipping; part two)

Authors - @warlordess and @miyatoriaka

Notes - Welcome to the next part of the major motion fanfic of the century! MiyaToriaka has beta-ed both the prologue as well as chapter one and given them both her personal seal of approval, so I guess that means we’re good to post!

Part one/prologue can be read here.

Part three can be read here.

Anyway, here’s hoping you all enjoy!

OoO

Title - “An Alternate Journey”

Summary - Eleven year old novice trainer Misty starts her Pokemon adventure, best friends Gary and Ash by her side. But will she withstand every test her travels throw at her and become the greatest master trainer of all time? Fic co-crafted with famous fan-artist, Miyatoriaka!

Ages - Misty and Leaf are eleven years old, Ash and Gary are thirteen, and the adults are adult-aged so who cares about ‘em? Lol.

Chapter One - Gastly

OoOoO

Four days. Four days and five nights. That’s how long their group had been trapped in the god-forsaken Viridian Forest.

Ash sighed in resignation, grabbing his faded and dusty backpack and tossing it over one shoulder, eyeing a nearby Caterpie as it wriggled its way up the fir pine tree stretching to the sky before it, then began to kick dirt onto the campfire he and Gary had made the night before.

He’d walked through this very same forest a hundred times before over the course of the past few years, trekked the same path, saw the same cluster upon cluster of trees… Ash Ketchum knew Viridian Forest like the back of his hand and one thing he could say about this place was that it was b-o-r-i-n-g.

The place was a natural breeding center for bug-type Pokemon, which he couldn’t help but resent with a passion due to their advantage against grass-type Pokemon; his favorite type. However this information didn’t stop Misty from trying to keep their group there as long as possible while she attempted to catch them all, almost constantly switching paths on a dime and getting them turned around and confused.

Did he say he knew this forest like the back of his hand? Well, he meant he knew the relatively straight path connecting Viridian to Pewter City. As for all of the other ones that slowly formed after decades had passed, he had no idea. The map was a little outdated and pretty rough and generalized to begin with. It was almost impossible to read sometimes unless one of them (Gary) woke up early enough to catch which way the sun was rising from and used that knowledge to decipher which direction was North.

“Please, please tell me today is the day we finally get out of here,” Ash groaned, halfheartedly gazing in the direction of his friends.

“Who knows?” Gary replied cryptically, averting his gaze to the sky.

“No way! That bug catcher I battled last night had a Pinsir and he said he caught it around here!” Misty practically shouted in exuberance, twisting on her heel and facing a nearby group of bushes as if expecting the very same Pokemon species to come leaping out of them, ripe for the catching.

“Misty, c’moooon…” Ash whined, “We’ve been stuck here for over half a week! You’re already a year or so behind your class of licensed trainers! Are you really going to spend a whole nother one weeding out Viridian Forest?!”

[keep reading]

The redhead merely pouted in return, causing Ash to avert his gaze to avoid any slight pinch of guilt she was pressuring him to feel. The moment was interrupted almost immediately by a nearby tree rustling, and the whole lot of them stiffened in expectation, Misty and Eevee ready to hop on the offensive at a moment’s notice.

A Rattata scrambled down the trunk and wound itself in the opposite direction of the group of adolescents with a bramble covered in leaves and berries clenched in its teeth.

Misty sighed, disappointed, kneeling to pat Eevee, ruffling her fringe in thanks for her effort in being proactive towards their goals.

“Just a Rattata, huh…? Well we’ve already caught one of those anyway.”

“As much as I hate to admit it, Ashy-boy may be on to something,” Gary chimed in from the background.

“Wha’d’ya mean?”

“We should have arrived in Pewter City last night at the latest. We’re running low on food and Pokemon supplies. If we don’t get out of here by tomorrow morning, we’ll probably be completely out,” the auburn-haired gym trainer warned them all, sobering up Misty’s former mood rather impressively.

“Ah… okay, fine then, I guess we’ll try and figure something out.”

“I mean, no matter what, we’re still lost, right?” Ash asked, choosing to ignore his old friend’s jab from before.

“Hmm…” The redhead responded cautiously, deep in thought. “Maybe Pidgey would be able to fly high enough to see which way we should go?” And she removed the Pokeball from her belt and showed it to her friends.

“Maybe,” Gary begrudgingly agreed, “but, then again, you caught him just outside of Pallet Town so he doesn’t know this area well, plus you’ve barely bonded with him so he might be unwilling to help you out with something like this, and he might have trouble tracking his way back to us. Not to mention Pidgey aren’t very fast until after they’ve grown some or evolved and yours is pretty young.”

“Okay, but that’s our only real option other than wandering around and hoping to find the exit or running into another trainer who can help us out, right? So…” Ash wondered aloud.

“Well, I’m okay with staying here!” Misty replied, hands clasped before her and then she punched one enthusiastically up into the air.

“Of course you are,” the raven-haired trainer deadpanned.

“I guess we’ll go with Plan B, which is terrible but still somehow slightly better than Plan A.”

“So should we bother stopping for lunch when the time comes or keep walking?” Misty asked.

“Like I said, we’re kinda low on supplies. It would probably be best to skip lunch if we can and just have a slightly early dinner. Then we might have some leftovers to snack on in the morning if we’re still lost and haven’t found anyone to help us out.”

“Yeah, maybe I’ll be able to get some training in with Pidgey and Rattata while we look around! We gotta beef up for our first gym match anyway, right? And maybe I’ll catch a Pinsir after all!”

So, settled on that plan, the group of four began ambling around, mostly sticking to the current path unless they happened to run into another that traveled straighter, since that one would more likely get them further faster. Every once in awhile one of them would step a short distance away to see if they’d run into another trainer but there didn’t seem to be anyone else around.

Evening fell swiftly, the wind picking up enough to rustle the trees and distract them from their mission. When the group decided there was too little sunlight left to tell where they were going, they finally chose to set up camp instead.

“Hey, guys, I think I’m gonna keep training nearby. I’ll come back right away if I run into someone who can help us find a way out of here,” Misty took the opportunity to say.

“By the way,” Ash brought up after exchanging a particular knowing glance with Gary, “it’s great and all that you wanna get to know and train up your Pokemon and I get that your choices have been kinda limited so far, but you might wanna think about expanding your team beyond normal and bug types. The first gym uses rock-type Pokemon so nothing you’ve caught so far is gonna stand much chance.”

“Yeah, a water or fighting type would do you some good but they’re kinda scarce in this area. Maybe you can find a grass-type?”

“See?” Ash said smugly, “This is why you should have bred your starter using my Ivysaur instead of his Eevee! That woulda given you a good head start, huh?”

“But your Bulbasaur is so picky!” Misty replied skeptically, hands on her hips. “If I’d chosen to breed my first Pokemon with you, I would have probably been stuck waiting five years instead of one!” A moment later and she knelt down to Eevee, who was sitting beside her, patting and scratching her affectionately behind the ears. “Plus I wouldn’t trade my Eevee for anything!”

Ash, put out somehow for reasons he couldn’t quite place by her response, turned away and plopped his backpack on the ground.

“Anyway, we’ll start working on dinner--”

“--Who’s ‘we’?” Gary replied dryly, “You can’t cook any better than her--”

“--so just head back in about an hour or so.”

“Gotcha!”

And she and her Pokemon disappeared further into the woods.

The rest of the evening went by rather smoothly. Misty returned at the given time with no luck of finding them an escape route and she and Ash joined Gary for dinner, before taking on their responsibility of washing the pot and dishware they’d used. Dusk turned to complete dark and, with a few attempts at rekindling the fire, the group prepared to turn in for the night, hoping against hope that they’d indeed find their way to Pewter City by the next afternoon.

However there was one thing Misty had to ask before the night was through.

“Hey, Ash?” Misty asked curiously as she drew her hairbrush through a thick lock of red.

“Hmm…?” The response sounded somewhat lethargic from the other side of the fire.

“Can we have a practice battle?”

“Wait, what?” He seemed much more alert in retaliation to that question. “Do you mean right now?”

“Well, maybe not now,” she corrected, sitting down in her sleeping bag and tossing the brush unceremoniously back into her bag. “But tomorrow? I’ve beaten every bug catcher and wild Pokemon I’ve come up against. I - we - could use some more challenging experience,” she finished, eyeing Eevee asleep beside her as she skillfully maneuvered herself into her sleeping bag without jostling the Pokemon awake. “We should be in town by tomorrow afternoon and then I’ll be having… my first gym battle, right…?” she finished with a yawn, laying back and blinking blearily up at the crescent moon shining above her.

She could barely make it out beyond the canopy of the forest.

“Well, I mean, I am a gym trainer myself, and you wouldn’t usually fight me until later on,” he told her proudly, sitting up and puffing out his chest. “If you’re worried about having a hard time against your first gym leader, I doubt battling me is gonna help make matters easier for ya!”

The raven-haired gym trainer laughed egotistically to himself for the next minute or so, Gary choosing to ignore him in lieu of throwing himself into his own sleeping bag for the night. Of course, after enough time had passed, Ash realized he hadn’t garnered any response and craned his neck to try and get a look at his female companion from across the campfire.

“Misty…?”

Still nothing.

“Hey, Misty!” he tried again, tone sharp. There was no way she was already--

“--Asleep,” Gary noted with a shrug. “Such a shame too, Ashy-boy. She missed your oh-so chivalrous moment of braggery.”

“Whatever,” the other boy scoffed, turning his nose up and hoping the flickering fire didn’t do anything to highlight the awkward flush on his face, and both of them laid back and tried to sleep.

It was some time later when Misty snapped awake, the light of the full moon too much to ignore… or maybe it was the pearl white of the fog that had set in during the couple of hours she’d been asleep…?

She sat up in her sleeping bag, the zipper coming automatically undone as she did so. Eevee felt her trainer stir and began to wake as well, rising up onto all fours and stretching, leaning in and licking the human’s hand.

“Eevee eev?”

“Ah, sorry to wake you, girl. I just… I’m just thirsty, I guess,” the redhead said, licking her dry lips and clearing her throat as she looked around for her canteen.

Something in the air seemed strange. Different. She couldn’t make out much of anything definitive in her surroundings. The smoldering of the cinders in the campfire seemed to fade right before her eyes as she stood up, slipping on her sneakers and bending down to tie them.

Where was it…? Where was her canteen? Where was her bag of supplies and her Pokebelt and… where was…

The question faded from her head, evaporating like the white of the fog before her.

“Eevee, let’s look around some, okay?” she asked warily of her Pokemon partner.

“Eevee!” the normal-type responded confidently and the two of them began their trek.

It seemed the world grew a degree colder with every step and their unknown destination farther, their sights dimmer. They were getting everywhere and nowhere at once, walking neck deep in white nothingness looking for the first thing they could find that would indicate a change.

“I - it’s really cold now…” Misty murmured from between chattering teeth. “Shoulda brought my jacket with me.”

Right, her jacket, which had been sitting folded next to her shoes when she slept. So she could just turn around and walk back the way she’d come from to find it, she figured, turning on her heel, then coming to a sudden stop at the sight before her.

It was her sleeping bag, laid out just as it had been before, barely two feet away.

Something didn’t add up. Something wasn’t right.

Misty sighed, growing agitated, throwing her head back as she groaned, the full moon above her shining so clearly and nothing - no trees, no clouds, nothing at all - blocking it from view. The same with her sleeping bag, it was the only clear item she could make out for miles, and it seemed almost hypnotic because of that contrast.

“Eevee…” Misty whispered, though she trailed off almost immediately.

“Eevee? Eev eevee eev!”

The cries of her Pokemon seemed so far away, and it took too much effort to look down. She just kept staring at that smoky full moon.

Wait… smoky…?

“... isty…?”

And why was the moon... suddenly full…?

“Misty?”

“Eevee?” her Pokemon chirped from far away.

Wasn’t it a quarter moon when she’d first fallen asleep?

“Eevee, have you seen my… my bag? And do you hear that? Who’s calling my name?”

“Misty, snap out... it!”

“Why does the moon look… so… so full?”

As soon as the final word left her lips, all of the vibrant white and cold and fog whirled away, sucked instantaneously into an invisible rift. Everything became much louder all at once, disorienting her, and she realized the fogginess had been inside her own head, as though she were ailing with fever.

She inhaled sharply, swaying on her feet, but everything that had been missing, that she’d been looking for, that she otherwise hadn’t been able to figure out, came back to her so swiftly that it almost hurt.

“Eevee! Ash! Gary! My--”

“You finally woke up!” Ash exclaimed in relief, at her side and a hand on her shoulder. “We were worried. You’ve been staring at the sky for the past twenty minutes. We didn’t know what was happening!”

“I was what?” the redhead replied tiredly, holding a hand up to her forehead and drawing away a sheer layer of sweat. It had felt at the time like she’d jogged an entire marathon…

“What happened to me?”

“Don’t know,” Gary told her, on her other side and handing her canteen over so she could sip some water. It was at this point that Misty noticed her backpack and jacket sitting just where she’d left them beside her sleeping bag. “Like Ash said, you got up a little while ago, I heard you do that and woke up to you putting your shoes on, and then you just stopped and started staring at the moon. Eevee and I tried calling out to you but you didn’t seem to hear us. That’s what woke Ash up. It was almost like you were hypnotized.”

“Hypnotized…” the other two trainers quoted unanimously, though Ash sounded a lot tenser all of a sudden.

“That wasn’t the moon! I think that was a--”

And Misty dived for her bag, fishing out her Pokedex and flipping it open by pushing the small button on the side.

“Pokedex searching… Pokedex searching…” the mechanical voice tweeted, and the digital display indicated via arrows which direction she should face with it.

“Misty, you think it was a Pokemon that did… whatever it did to you?”

“Eevee eev eev eevee!” her starter shouted, leaning onto her haunches as if to say she was ready for a fight.

“Well it’s not like I usually just stand still and stare indefinitely into space, is it?” the redhead bit back more harshly than she meant to.

“One unknown Pokemon found,” her Pokedex chimed in before Ash could come up with his own witty retort to her comment.

“Unknown, huh? Doesn’t really help us much, does it?”

“Unknown Pokemon in Viridian Forest in the middle of the night? Well, I doubt it’s a legendary…” Gary commented, leaning forward and taking her Pokedex into his hands.

“A legendary?” she replied blankly.

“A really, really strong Pokemon,” Ash explained warily. “Usually having to do with local folklore and usually very rare, like one-of-a-kind rare.”

“Ooh…”

“But it’s probably definitely not one of those. The chances that they’d just show themselves to a bunch of random trainers like this are highly unlikely. More likely it’s a Pokemon you haven’t seen yet and that’s hiding its identity from us for whatever reason, like maybe a ghost-type?” Gary concluded.

“A ghost-type?!” Misty shouted in glee, on her feet again so quickly that both of her male companions were blown backwards by the maneuver.

As soon as Ash made it to his feet again, he scurried back to his sleeping bag, peeking his head out at the others as sweat began to pour from his brow.

“A g - ghost-type Pokemon?! You’re joking, right?!” he yelped, shaking like a leaf, creeping away from their group in sudden obvious terror.

“Uuh… okay…?” Misty commented in confusion at his response to the possibility.

“You didn’t know?” Gary asked absently, still flipping through her Pokedex from his spot on the ground. “Ash is scared of ghost-type Pokemon.”

“He is?”

“I - I’m not! I just…” And, with much more effort than it should have taken, the raven-haired trainer slithered his way out of his sleeping bag, ambling shakily to a standing position, “... don’t like them! Everyone’s allowed to have something they don’t like, aren’t they?”

“Well, yeah, but…”

“While I’m impressed that you’ve been able to hide your phobia from Misty for the past three years or so… here ya go,” Gary finished with a proud smirk, tossing Misty’s Pokedex back into her arms. “These are the only ghost-types native to Kanto. Chances are it’s one of them.”

“Really? Thanks!” Misty replied, looking over the profile photos one after another. “Let’s see… Gengar…”

Flip.

“... Haunter…”

Flip.

“... And Gastly.”

She paused on the last image on her screen, taking in the Pokemon’s perfectly round physical form and the dark, poisonous smog floating around it.

“I think this is it!” she exclaimed, brows furrowing as her lips curled into a smirk, belying her confidence.

“Gastly, come out of hiding already! It’s game over!” she shouted, picking up her Pokebelt and snapping it into place behind her waist, smashing her cap onto her head and preparing for battle.

There was a poof of smoldering dark and a hollow echoing chuckle from above her, the small gassy Pokemon floating down to eye level with the trainer who’d unraveled his ruse.

“Gastly gaaas…!” he howled in laughter.

“Let’s see what the Pokedex has to say…” she murmured, ignoring Ash as he tiptoed stealthily behind her.

There was a high-pitched ping followed by, “Gastly, the gas Pokemon. It is usually invisible to the human eye. Its specialty is its hypnosis.”

“Sounds familiar…” the redhead begrudgingly admitted to herself, doing her best (and failing) to ignore Ash’s fingernails digging into her arms every time the ghost-type Pokemon floated to and fro. “Wait, is that all you have to say?!” she screeched at her Pokedex, shaking it hard, frantic tears running from her squinting eyes.

“By enveloping larger opponents with gas, Gastly is able to defeat them.”

“Okaaay…” Misty ground out, withdrawing the small device for the time being. “I guess we’re just gonna have to figure it out as we go, right, Eevee?” And she smiled confidently at her Pokemon before throwing out an arm and pointing forward. “Let’s battle! Eevee, tackle!”

Her Pokemon barked its own name in agreement, leaping into the fray, but the moment was interrupted almost immediately by Gary’s wisdom.

“Actually, normal-type moves won’t have any effect on ghost-type Pokemon.”

“Wait, what?” the redhead squeaked.

Eevee, who’d already began dashing full speed at her opponent, attempted her straight-forward assault only to pass completely through Gastly and land on all fours in a patch of dirt behind it.

“So what do I do?”

“Run away really fast and never get involved with a ghost Pokemon again?” Ash practically whimpered into her ear, leading Misty to scoff and shake him off.

There was another familiar ping from her pocket. She scrambled to remove her Pokedex from within, watching as her Eevee leapt to and fro around a still jovial Gastly, which was poofing in and out of sight, sometimes creeping up from behind.

“Although Gastly’s amorphous body allows it to sneak around almost anywhere, it’s practically weightless physique means it can be easily blown away by the wind.”

“Yeah, that! Let’s do that!” Ash shouted emphatically.

“I don’t wanna blow it away, I wanna catch it!”

“Still, seems like flying attacks are your best bet either way,” Gary sagely advised. “Now might be a good time to call out your Pidgey. You said you wanted to train him up some, right?”

“Okay, okay…” Misty sighed, putting her Pokedex away one last time and grasping to the left of her belt for that particular Pokeball. “Eevee, come back! Come on out, Pidgey!”

A lot of things seemed to happen all at once. Eevee indeed returned to her side just as Pidgey took swiftly to the air in a flash of red light. Misty naturally thanked her starter for keeping the ghost-type busy while she came up with her next strategy, and Gastly… Gastly, rather than looking even mildly wary or panicked over having to face an opponent that could potentially do some damage, seemed instead to be despondent over the fact that its original playmate had retreated.

“Pidgey, use your gust!”

The flying-type Pokemon dived down then swooped back into a vertical stance, using his wings to suspend himself in mid-air. His flapping grew more and more intense until the campfire light began to flicker and dirt bellowed up into a gritty smog.

Gastly did its best to stand its ground against its adversary but to no avail, its gaseous cover beginning to fade into the dark of the night, and even its orb-like body starting to spin on its axis as it began blowing away.

Finally, with one last wrenching rotation of its core and a few attempts of phasing out from between the windy gusts, Gastly vanished with a final decidedly less jolly wail of its name.

“Aaah, no! I said I wanted to catch it!” Misty cried with a stomp of her foot, fists clenched at her sides. “Shoot! Who knows when o - or even if I’ll see another ghost-type!”

Pidgey flew back to his trainer, who offered him a half-hearted thanks, and Ash finally seemed to calm down and regain his steady footing. Gary stepped forward too with some surprisingly wise words.

“Well, whether you caught it or chased it off, coming out on top of a ghost-type Pokemon this early in your career as a trainer says a lot about your skill.”

“And I’m just glad you took my advice and blew that thing away!”

Misty, originally smiling in kind to Gary’s compliment, scowled and muttered, “I wasn’t trying to! I didn’t know Pidgey’s gust would be so strong…”

And, grim expression set upon her face, she took one firm step forward and cupped her hands around her mouth before shouting into the very early morning sky…

“I wish you’d come back, Gastly!”

“Gaaaastly…” the Pokemon in question drawled from out of nowhere, popping into existence beside the group of trainers.

“Ah! You really came back!” Misty yelped, equal parts shocked and excited.

“Gaaaas…” the ghost Pokemon continued to sulk, not looking at her, floating stiffly away.

Ash, who’d done well standing like a granite statue with his lips pursed over the past several seconds, began tiptoeing away from the group again.

“This is pretty surprising. Either Gastly is stronger than we thought or else maybe he just really didn’t wanna leave,” Gary noted, hand to his chin in thought.

“Hmm… Or maybe both...”

Misty sucked in a breath then cautiously took a step towards the ghost Pokemon.

“Hey, um, Gastly, were you just trying to have fun with Eevee earlier?”

“Gaaas…!” it replied with a subtle nod, barely looking in her direction.

“And, ‘cause it’s kinda important for me to know, did you mean to hurt me when you used your hypnosis?”

Gastly seemed downright aghast at the accusation.

“Gastly! Gaaastly!” it wailed ashamedly, shaking its round body back and forth as if to say ‘no’.

“So you were just trying to play games and make new friends?”

“Gastly!” was accompanied by another nod.

“Okay then!” the redhead responded with a chipper grin while her audience of a loyal Pidgey, suspicious Ash, and mildly impressed Gary stood in the background. “So, now that I know we’re on the same page, I was thinking…”

“No,” Ash ground out between gritted teeth from somewhere behind her but she ignored him.

“... How about if you…”

“I said no!” the raven-haired gym leader stated more vehemently.

“... join me and my other friends on our journey? I promise you’ll have all sorts of fun and meet tons of new people and Pokemon!” the redheaded novice finished offering.

Gastly blinked at the female human standing before him with everything shy of open arms. Instead she held up a device that he’d seen capture many a wild Pokemon and take them away in the past, though he had to admit that the overall proposition seemed rather inviting… He looked at the Eevee on all fours at her master’s feet, alternating between nuzzling the human’s leg and sitting back, tail wagging affectionately.

Next his eyes were automatically drawn to the other two humans standing behind the first, the brown-haired one sporting a smug grin while the last one had the air that many other humans had expressed when he’d snuck up on them for a game of peek-a-boo in the past…

Altogether they seemed like a well-rounded and diverse group… Yes, he might like to call it home, a place at their sides.

“Gastly!” he finally responded with a nod and a toothy smile.

“Really? You’ll come?” Misty gasped in glee, holding up the empty Pokeball she’d been carrying. “Yay! So do you mind if I catch you now?”

The ghost-type shook his head and waited willingly for his own capture, disappearing with a poof and a residual red light. The Pokeball shook once… twice… before the button at its center blinked from scarlet to white and it went still.

“Oh my gosh, I did it! I caught a Gastly!” the redhead shouted, dancing forward on the balls of her feet before leaning down to pick up her newest team acquisition. “And without further ado, Gastly, I choose you!”

The ghost-type reappeared in another flash of red and he, his trainer, Pidgey, and Eevee all jumped up and down together in excitement. Afterwards Misty decided to start the formal introductions.

“So you’ve already met Eevee and Pidgey, and there’s Weedle, Metapod, and Rattata too but it might be better to meet them during breakfast later. This guy over here is Gary,” and respective guy offered the new group member a smile before Misty moved on, “aaand that’s Ash over there. Oh, but you might wanna--”

Too late. Misty was going to suggest taking it slow but Gastly had gotten so worked up at the sight of all his new friends that he just couldn’t help himself, vanishing from her side and popping up in Ash’s face with an adoring (or so he was going for, though it came out looking somewhat malicious) expression.

“Gastly!” he said in greeting, and Ash, who’d been petrified in not-fear-nope-definitely-not, leapt first into the air and then back away from the ghost-type.

“Yaaagh! Misty!” the boy yelled at the top of his lungs, scurrying up behind his most recent favorite hiding spot (AKA: Misty’s back). “Make this thing stay away from me or else I swear someone’s gonna die!”

It was unclear if his final statement was a threat or else a paranoid exaggeration of the ghost-type’s powers.

“Hmm…? But he’s so cute!” Misty cooed, blushing with both hands to her cheeks. In response, the ghost-type’s formerly heartbroken expression at Ash’s slights against him mended into something forgiving and tender. “And I’m just so happy that he’s coming with us! Why can’t you be, Ash?”

“What?! This is the exact opposite of what I wanted! Why should I be happy?! I didn’t ask for anything like this!”

“But I’m sure Gastly will be really useful, won’t he?” the redhead continued simpering, “I bet he could easily show us out of this forest!”

The ghost-type nodded affirmatively but anymore conversation was cut short by more wise words a la Gary.

“Yeah, but it might be better to get some more sleep first then head out after the sun comes up. We’ve all only gotten two or three hours.”

“I guess… you’ve got a point!” Misty guffawed before holding up two Pokeballs. “Then we’ll get back to this in a little while! Have a good rest, Pidgey; Gastly!”

After both Pokemon had been successfully returned, Gary stepped up and clapped a hand to her shoulder.

“You did good. I think this may have qualified as your first real tough experience as a trainer. A ghost-type is a good start to building a solid team.”

“Uuh, excuse me?” Ash called out to them, his voice oddly muffled. “I thought we were going to sleep?”

Apparently he’d dived for his sleeping bag as soon as the opportunity was granted to him.

“They guy sure does move fast when he needs to,” Gary lamented with a teasing grin.

OoOoO

Notes - Gastly has a habit of trying to make friends with the Pokemon of random trainers who wander into Viridian Forest. At least, that’s what I was going for. When he used hypnosis on Misty, he meant to just make her fall back into a deep sleep for the rest of the night but there were some unforeseen side-effects. Luckily, he ended up making human friends as well!

The next chapter will be posted within the month. Not sure if it’s gonna be one of the planned chapters to do with the comic or a bonus chapter. Either way, I hope everyone looks forward to it!

Likes are nice and commentary is kind!

#pokeshipping #fan fiction #an alternate journey #chapter one #role reversal au #miyatoriaka #fanfic #multichaptered

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papa-rhys · 5 years

Text

17 years (Far Cry: New Dawn)

Note: Ooooo I’m ready for some post-apocalyptic Hope County. I haven’t written in ages, but New Dawn got the creative juices flowing again, so here we are. Enjoy!

Summary: Rook finds themself fresh out of the bunker in a completely new world that they struggle to recognise. A new world with some familiar faces still roaming around in it.

Word count: 1486

Characters: The deputy, Jerome Jeffries, Joseph Seed (mentioned)

| Find more of my stuff here! | | Ko-fi |

17 years. 17 years Rook has spent underground; trapped in that hellhole of a bunker like a rat in a cage with Joseph fucking Seed – of all people – as their only form of company. The people of Hope County thought Joseph was insufferable when he was dwelling on the surface of the earth? Well, Rook challenges them to spend the best part of two decades with the raving lunatic and his incessant rambling underground – then they can complain to Rook about “insufferable.”

But all that is behind Rook, now. They crawl out of that bunker on their hands and knees – their skin pale and their frame considerably thinner than it once was – emerging in a forest that they don’t recognise, surrounded by a mountainous landscape that is not the same one they left behind 17 years ago. Their eyes water with the burn of the sunlight that they haven’t seen in all their time underground and it takes upwards of 15 minutes of sitting on a nearby rock for their eyes to adjust to the sudden explosion of light that floods in through their pupils. But as soon as they can see again, they’re off; heading in any general direction until they hit the body of water that encloses Dutch’s island. The body of water that they soon discover is a lot smaller than it used to be. It seems a lot has changed in 17 years.

As Rook wanders along the shoreline, they breathe in as much of the fresh air as possible; taking each breath far down into their stomach and enjoying the feeling of the cool, crisp air inside their lungs. They’re a long way from the broken air filtration unit that stole a full 2 weeks of precious oxygen from Rook and Joseph. Those days spent taking shallow breaths to conserve air are over and Rook relishes in their new-found ability to breathe as deeply and as often as they damn well please.

After strolling along the edge of the island for a good 20 minutes, Rook deviates from their path to climb up onto a rock, hoping to get a better look at the area that they used to know as Holland Valley. Using their hand to shield their eyes from the sun, they scan the land on the other side of the water, half expecting to see a few red silos or a firefight in the distance. But there’s no such sight on the horizon. Holland Valley seems infinitely more peaceful than when John had his fists wrapped around it and Rook can’t help but wonder if the bombs were really that much of a bad thing after all. Maybe they lost their mind down in that bunker – maybe things on the surface aren’t as peachy as they seem and they’re suffering the side effects of some silent radiation poisoning – but from where Rook is currently standing, the supposed apocalypse seems to be a vast improvement from the way things were when the Seed family plagued this county.

Rook’s eyes glide a little further down the river bank, taking in the sight of the lush green grass and vibrant pink flowers that grow in it. Until they spot something. Something that they hadn’t been sure whether or not they should expect. People. Out of instinct, Rook ducks down, ungracefully sliding down the rock and scraping the bare skin of their ankles on their way down. “Shit,” they hiss to themselves. “Survivors? How?” They watch carefully from behind the rock, ready for the hail of bullets that will surely come any moment now. But as they watch the group of people wave from across the water, Rook’s guard drops a little and they stand up in plain view of the group.

“Can you cross?” a man’s voice calls out to Rook. His voice seems kind of familiar, but in the panic and excitement of being out of the bunker, Rook can’t even begin to try and piece together who it might be.

Rook thinks for a second, still unsure of whether or not this group of people can be trusted. But then they think of the alternative. The only two options Rook has are to take the leap and trust these people, or head back to the filthy hovel that they crawled out of and stay there for the rest of their days. And they know which one they’d prefer. “Can I what?” they yell in return.

“The water. Can you cross it?”

“Oh. I don’t know. I’ve been underground for a long time. I don’t think I know how to swim anymore.” They watch as the group chatter among themselves for a few moments. Rook starts to grow impatient and as the silence goes on, their nerves begin to bubble away; pecking away at the back of their brain and telling them that something is wrong. But finally, the group spread out and the man in charge steps back into place at the edge of the water.

“I’m sending my guy over with a float,” he tells Rook. Rook watches as two men push a float out into the water, with one of the men wading in after it whilst the other steps back onto dry land. “It’s attached to a length of rope, so all I need you to do is hold onto the float while we pull you in. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, I’m sure I can manage that,” Rook calls out, giving him a thumbs up and heading to the water’s edge to await their rescue party. “That water’s safe, right? No radiation?” they ask the swimming man as he reaches the bank.

“Water’s fine,” he tells them. “It’s probably the safest place to be these days. It’s the dry land you gotta worry about - that’s where the people are.”

Rook steps into the cool water, sighing with relief at the sensation of it lapping around their ankles. They were limited to 1 shower each week in the bunker – and that 1 shower was only ever allowed to last for 5 minutes at most. So the feeling of water caressing their skin is a luxury that Rook had completely forgotten about. They reach for the float, throwing their arm over it and hugging it tightly as two people hoist the rope, pulling Rook, the float, and their rescuer across the surface of the water.

Once they’re on the other side, Rook lets go of the float, allowing the two people to pull it out of the water and begin gathering the rope into a bunch. “Thank you,” Rook tells the sopping wet man as he climbs out of the water behind them, shaking the water from his hair like an oversized St. Bernard. He puts his hand up as a silent display of acknowledgement and Rook watches as he picks up his backpack and hauls it over his shoulder.

“Welcome to Holland Valley,” the familiar voice says from behind Rook. Rook spins around on their heels to face the person, and as they do so, their whole body ignites with excitement.

“Jerome?” Rook gasps, already smiling as their suspicion is immediately confirmed by the white dog collar around his neck.

“I…” Jerome’s eyes widen as he becomes aware of who’s standing before him. “Deputy?” He bursts into laughter, dropping his shotgun to the floor and pulling Rook into a tight hug. His arms wrap all the way around Rook easily after all the weight they’ve lost and if they weren’t so happy to see him after all these years, they’d be more inclined to tell him that his tight grip is somewhat painful. After a few moments, Jerome pulls away, his hands remaining on Rook’s shoulders as he takes a better look at their face. “My, how you’ve changed,” he smiles, raising his hand to his face to wipe away a tear. “We mourned for you, y’know? The entire county.”

“Jerome…”

“I’m okay,” he assures Rook. “I am now we have you back, at least. Come, we need to get you checked over by our doctor. We’ll take you down to Prosperity.”

“What’s Prosperity?” Rook asks, looking around in mild confusion as everyone regroups.

“It’s our little settlement,” Jerome tells them, leading Rook and the rest of the group towards a few motorcycles that rest on top of the ridge that overlooks the water.

“Best town this side of the apocalypse,” a man cheers. “You won’t find a better place than Prosperity.”

“Don’t let Mikey get your hopes up, Deputy. It’s nothing too ambitious, but what it lacks in grandeur, it makes up for in homeliness.”

“Is it underground?” Rook asks, hopping onto the back of Jerome’s motorcycle and wrapping their arms around his waist as he puts on a helmet made of different metals, all patched together.

“Nope, it’s all above ground.”

“Then it sounds good to me,” Rook replies. “I’m tired of being underground.”

#far cry 5 #far cry new dawn #my writing #writing: misc fc5

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romcomathon2016 · 6 years

Text

Admission (USA, 2013)

Predictions: Alex predicted, based off vague memories of the trailer, that Tina Fey worked in admissions for...somewhere, and Paul Rudd was a parent trying to get his kid into a school? Kat, feeling a desire to mix it up, predicted that Paul Rudd wanted to go to the school himself. Ooooo, a twist!

Plot: Tina Fey is a Princeton admissions officer -- a position that makes her both wildly popular and wildly unpopular. She lives with long-term boyfriend Professor Michael Sheen, but their relationship is...shall we say...lacking. When her boss, Wallace Shawn, declares that this will be his last year as Dean of Admissions, Tina Fey knows she has to be more competitive to get his job. She journeys to Paul Rudd’s hippie school in New Hampshire to meet his first-ever graduating class. You know, one of those farm schools with cows and snowshoeing and stuff. (Okay, you may not know. BUT WE SURE DO. #a very specific New England experience) There, she meets Paul Rudd’s favorite student, Nat Wolff, who is apparently a genius.

BUT OH LOOK, A TWIST (not the one we predicted): Paul Rudd secretly actually brought Tina Fey there to meet Nat Wolff not just because he is a genius, but because Paul Rudd suspects that Nat Wolff, who was adopted, is actually Tina Fey's biological son, whom she gave up for adoption while she and Paul Rudd were both at Dartmouth. (The non-stop East Coast academic name-dropping in this movie, btw. Colleges. Private schools. We lol-ed.) Yeah, he just springs this on her after dinner, nbd, and she’s like WHAT???? and he’s like, “I have a Xeroxed birth certificate that matches with my vague recollection from the Dartmouth grapevine!” (Spoiler alert: this is not the thorough amount of research one should do before dropping this kind of bombshell on a stranger, PAUL RUDD.) Tina Fey, scarred from her disorganized upbringing at the hands of Lily Tomlin, who is...a very specific kind of New Englander, is basically terrified of parenthood, though. So she flees from Paul Rudd. Understandably.

However, also understandably, back at home/work, Tina Fey cannot quite put this news out of her head. Furthermore, Professor Michael Sheen tells her he’s impregnated a co-worker and is leaving her. Yikes. Rough go of it for Tina Fey. Then Paul Rudd, good old persistent Paul Rudd, accompanies Nat Wolff on a Princeton tour** and takes this opportunity to continue to accost Tina Fey. After like...three of these confrontations, she agrees to look at Nat Wolff’s transcripts and whatnot. Shocker — he is not an amazing student. Like, had a D+ average before transferring to Paul Rudd's hippie school. But he does have great test scores and is, like we said, apparently a genius. So Tina Fey, questionably in terms of both admissions-officer ethics and wisdom, goes to bat for this kid she thinks is probably her son.

After some shenanigans -- including Tina Fey hooking up with Paul Rudd and sucking up to all her colleagues -- the admissions committee nonetheless fails, alas, to accept Nat Wolff. (Understandable. Look, it’s Princeton. Nat Wolff, perhaps you should have visited some other schools. Hampshire, perhaps?) BUT THEN. An extremely disappointed, disillusioned Tina Fey receives a phone call from a high school counselor who informs her that one of Princeton’s accepted students will actually be attending Yale. An extra spot!!!! Tina Fey seizes this opportunity, super unethically, and switches up the admissions records so Nat Wolff gets in. OF COURSE SHE IS FOUND OUT IMMEDIATELY, having committed the World’s Most Obvious Admissions-Officer Crime, but, as she knew would be the case, Wallace Shawn can only demand her resignation, not rescind the acceptance, as he does not want Princeton’s whole ~system to be called into question. Clever-ish, Crazed Tina Fey...we suppose...

Anyway, so, she’s lost her job, but it’s fine! She has new meaning in her life! She’s going to bond with her son, Nat Wolff! Right?? NOT SO FAST. Turns out Nat Wolff is not her biological son — Paul Rudd, like, misread the birth certificate, basically. (OH MY GOD. GET IT TOGETHER, PAUL RUDD.) Tina Fey is understandably super pissed at Paul Rudd, etc. Has a confrontation with Lily Tomlin, blah blah blah, grows as a person, blah blah blah... Eventually, she and Paul Rudd get together for real, and she goes to the adoption agency to try to initiate contact with her actual biological son. He writes back that he isn’t ready yet to meet her, but maybe someday.

**A Quick Geography PSA: In this movie, people are constantly driving between Keene, NH, and Princeton, NJ. As people who are familiar with both of those places/have Google Maps, we would like to inform anybody who is thinking of making this drive themselves (MISLED BY THIS FILM, PERHAPS) -- it is a five-hour drive. Not a twenty-minute jaunt, as this movie makes it appear. UNLESS YOUR CAR IS SECRETLY ALSO AN AIRPLANE.

Best Scene: Tina Fey at the English department party she hosts with Professor Michael Sheen, during which he leaves her. Her breakdown is quite humorous. Poor Tina Fey. Also, we enjoyed every time Professor Michael Sheen turned up subsequently, his appearance generally serving to highlight Tina Fey’s sad life. (Oh, Michael Sheen. He’s always so Michael Sheen.)

Worst Scene: Hmmm. Honestly, watching the admissions officers reject the various accomplished high-schoolers was sad. (WE'RE SOFT, OKAY???? WE WOULD NEVER MAKE IT AS ADMISSIONS OFFICERS.) (Although...we did also judge those poor kids a bit ourselves. ONLY TWO EXTRACURRICULARS, HUH. AT PRINCETON???? ...Alas, we are all products of our #millennial time.)

Best Line: “We’re going to play a fun game. It’s called ‘Spot the Nobel Prize Winner.’” — Princeton tour guide, making us nerd-giggle at the beginning of the film. Also, we enjoyed when Tina Fey went to Paul Rudd's hippie school and got dressed down by his Extremely Argumentative & Socially Conscious students, and managed to retort that, GOSH, IN ORDER TO CHANGE THE WORLD, REGRETTABLY, SOME OF THEM MIGHT NEED A COLLEGE DEGREE.

Worst Line: This movie was relatively self-aware and basically fine, for what it was. We didn’t groan at anything specifically.

Highlights of the Watching Experience: "Wait, have I seen this movie? ...Or have I just been to this house??" -- Kat, when Tina Fey first walked into Lily Tomlin's bicycle-filled, plant-filled, New-England-hippie home. Alex: "Girl, we have both been to this house."

How Many POC in the Film: Paul Rudd has a tween son (adopted from Uganda) that, whoops, we did not mention once in the plot summary, but who is actually a fairly major character that we enjoyed. Also, Tina Fey's main admissions-office rival is a woman of color. Those were the big ones. To be fair, it was semi-rural New England/Princeton. #white AF #we would know

Alternate Scenes: Well... It's not like we loved this film, but it did not actively offend us. We probably could not be bothered to change anything about it. We did find it slightly implausible how “rootless and impulsive” Paul Rudd apparently was. He does usually seem like he'd be the other person in that argument, if you know what we mean.

Was the Poster Better or Worse than the Film: Worse? The poster, while slightly funny, makes Paul Rudd appear even more uncouth in his choices than he actually is. Also, it needs punctuation.

Score: 6 out of 10 highly selective smooches. Look, we should clarify. This was not a great romcom. It was, like, fine. It was inoffensive. The premise is a bit weird. The movie is mostly about Tina Fey. It's kind of funny...sometimes…? We perhaps got particular enjoyment out of this film for personal reasons. #new england #privilege #nothing could be more familiar to us than this collection of well-meaning, miscellaneously wealthy white people who love sailing and/or trees and/or slightly tone-deafly helping the poor

Ranking: 47, out of the 148 movies we’ve seen so far. Welcome to the top 50, Admission! Boy, was that unexpected. (If you are not from this very specific world that we are from, we do not recommend this film. Just to be clear.)

#admission #tina fey #paul rudd #2013

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crescendo-system · 7 years

Note

iM ASKING DEF HALP ADVICE but ya I'm not always able to properly relax and then any memories are like, hazy and watered down, and the last time I was able to get real deep into focus I felt a Bad memory coming on and got tf out of there

ooooo, yea that can happen. Personally speaking, I had that happen once and I continued to pursue the memory to get it over with? but it was already affecting my mood terribly and I had the time and mental preparedness to just have some sob time over the memory. it’s possible you may need to set aside time where you’re ready for it if that memory starts to resurface. I say this more because it might blindside you otherwise, or lurk underneath your consciousness and affect your mood if it goes on too long (which has happened to me a few times with my Dave kin.) But yeah if you can’t handle it then don’t feel pressured to face it just yet.

the method I use is actually probably good for avoiding that sort of thing, since it’s meant to be a guided mental walk through your memories. I’ve found it’s possible to dictate or affect what memories you see, to an extent. It’s reliant on visualisation so you could guide yourself away from that memory, perhaps. I’ve never tried to use it to avoid a memory so I’m not certain, but it’s possible.

Said method is built and personalized off of this handy dandy post right here, though the initial setup often led to me losing focus since i myself am a bit adhd lmao. This post is an inconveniently long and rambly iteration of my specific process and observations that have built up around the method as I’ve adapted it. (I’ll be reblogging both of these to this blog momentarily since I neglected to when archiving I guess, whoops)

main takeaway from these is probably- learn to visualize and utilize your mindspace to your advantage, and to sort of ‘cherrypick’ things - but don’t try to be too controlling or things will be unsuccessful, unclear or will just fall more out of control.

As for alternatives - I’ve found a few other things that help me, but personally speaking they’re not as consistently successful or reliable. They are however an invaluable resource so I recommend giving them a peek. ;)

(under readmore bc this got Lengthy™ as is in my nature to do lmao. I hope some of this helps!!)

1- paying attention to your dreams. I’ve gotten some kin details from dreams. Sometimes it’s layered in bunches of dream gunk, but if a character from my canon was there to my knowledge, I pay close attention and analyze for symbolism and alternate interpretations. This includes old memories before you kinfirmed, as well - sometimes there are details there that help as well. I’ve known someone who dreamt a kin memory in their childhood as a nightmare. It may not happen with everyone, or be obvious, but I recommend combing what you do remember of your dreams, now and then, just in case.

On a related note, keeping track of your dreams may help you remember more of them in general, and may make it easier to find kin memories. keeping a little notebook, even just to jot down key phrases or doodles, will help you remember things about the dream that you would lose on your own.

2- impressions, feelings etc - of course there’s a danger of overthinking, or of personal preferences/projections affecting it, but sometimes a gut feeling might lead to something more connected to a memory. I figured out one of the swaps in a bloodswap timeline of mine based on gut feelings alone (they had been a former matesprit so the emotional connection allowed me to figure it out better)

3- media. This one is tricky and random. I’ve regained memories from song lyrics, melodies and character themes, fanart and even some fanfics. it can be a phrase, or a certain action, pose, situation. Heck I’ve recalled a memory from a totally unrelated video before. Rather random, even if you look specifically at content/themes relating to your kin.

But there is a way to tip this into your favor - do you write? draw? make music? anything artistic/creative? then you may be able to pull from your kin memories if you do something based on your kin and the canonmates/settings/etc you had. I have a friend who’s discovered over time that many of the fanfictions they have written aren’t just fics, but actually based on memories from their timelines. They’re not always accurate portrayals of events, or quotes or dynamics, but the core flow and content has always matched up. Likewise, the way I draw/drew characters based on ‘headcanons’ have tended to match up to one of my own canons, and I believe I’ve also written fic snippets based on experiences from my timelines. And as I regain more memories, I’m beginning to write using the memories as a springboard, hoping to expand upon what was initially just, an emotion and specific image, turning it into an excavation of the whole memory I have yet to recall.

and last I can think of as of right now;

4 - talking to people about your memories - this is a very helpful exercise in general! and by this, I mean hold a discussion with someone you feel ok with, about memories and the like, as opposed to just making a post on tumblr. This conversation encourages and stimulates the brain to come up with details when describing, and sometimes the person will say something unexpected that might jog your memory, or help confirm what your canon WASN’T like. This can sometimes be because the person knows something you forgot/don’t know, or they might say something to be silly/make a joke or offer suggestions. Someone joked about something silly that otters did when I told them about my lusus in my Eridan Leijon timeline being an otter - which surprisingly gave me a memory and also answered a few questions.

I personally am on a few servers on discord where kin talk is encouraged and frequent, plus my longest time kinfriend has always encouraged me to talk about kinstuff as well as tell me about theirs, and in doing this we’ve both made connections for the other as well as discover we’re canonmates in a few tls.

So these are the methods I’m familiar with! I’m sure others have their methods, I know some witches will rely on spells and the like, but I’ve never been one for those things, based on personal preference.

I hope these help, and I am always open to helping in any way I can!! Feel free to ask me more stuff if you need!! :)

#long post #kin.txt #memory walk #lgbroductions #ask and ye shall receive

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