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missing-marvel · 4 years

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The Shape of You (Pt. 3)

Pairing: Vision/Reader

Part 2, Part 4

A/N: Surprise! Didja think I died? Well guess what, I lived. Dedicating this one to the anon that asked me to write again! You got me workin on this again so kudos to you

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As the car slowed, so did your heartbeat, the adrenaline beginning to wear off. You didn’t know where you were going, just that you needed to keep moving. You took the highway out of the city, figuring your place wasn’t a safe option. Only once the city skyline gave way to open road did you speak again.

“So, uh, what’s the plan? Where are we going?” You glanced over at Vision, only taking your eyes off the road as much as you had to. He simply shook his head solemnly, making it clear there was no plan, which was not what you wanted to hear. He began trying to say something else, miming something you didn’t remotely understand. “Hang on, I’ve got something that’ll help,” you reached into your pocket and pulled out your phone. “There’s a text-to-speech feature you can use to talk to me.”

Barely after the last word was out of your mouth, Vision took the phone in both hands and snapped it in half effortlessly. You winced at the crunch of the metal. He rolled the window down and threw the destroyed phone outside as you simply stared at him wide-eyed.

“What the hell was that for?!” The car drifted slightly while your eyes were off the road, causing you to quickly snap back into your lane when you heard another car honk. You turned back to Vision for an explanation, though he simply pointed up at the sky.

“Oh, GPS. Right.” You hadn’t thought about your phone being used to track you. You mentally chided yourself for such a stupid mistake.

Vision began rummaging through the glovebox while you kept your eyes on the road, not wanting another close call like before. The roads were relatively clear this time of night, especially as you got further from the city, but you weren’t taking any more chances. You’d had enough near-death experiences for awhile.

Most of the glovebox’s contents were just rubbish or various bits of paper, but there was one thing that would come in particularly handy. Vision’s expression lit up slightly as he held up a pen and some kind of legal notepad. You began to think this car probably belonged to some kind of corporate businessman or something. Clearly someone with money to spare. That made you feel a little less bad about stealing it.

Vision was writing hurriedly but you couldn’t make out what he was saying and watch the road at the same time. When he was done, he leaned over to hold up the paper in your line of sight.

“Car is compromised. Need new one. Something inconspicuous.” You agreed, but you had no idea how to go about that. You didn’t know a thing about car thievery, today’s events being your only experience.

“Vision this isn’t exactly my area of expertise. Besides I don’t even know where we are. What’s even a good place to find a car? Or leave this one for that matter? A parking lot?” You rambled until Vision quickly tapped his hand on the dashboard to get your attention. He pointed at some kind of sign ahead of you. You made out the words as you got closer, the headlights illuminating the old rusted sign as if it were neon.

‘Motel- 30 miles,’ it read, the letters were peeling from age but nonetheless legible. “Yeah I guess that’ll work...” you mumbled, more to yourself than anything.

The drive was quiet from there. It was peaceful almost, the hum of the engine, the open road, and the clear view of the sky. The sight of the endless highway made time feel as if it had stopped. Under better circumstances, you would love to roll the windows down and enjoy the rush of the night air. There had always been something about driving at night that you found relaxing. That is, until your thoughts caught up with you.

You’d been processing the day’s events. It was slowly dawning on you that you were a criminal now. Officially on the lam. You were no doubt being hunted still. And they likely wouldn’t be feeling merciful when they caught you. If they caught you, you corrected yourself.

The realization that you’d just uprooted your entire life had crept up on you. You thought of your family and your friends. Hell, even the employees at your favorite coffee shop that always knew your order. There were people that would wonder what happened to you. Would they assume you went missing or would your face be plastered across every news channel in the country?

It was all becoming too much too quickly. You tried to force your breathing to slow as your heart beat against your chest, but it didn’t help. It was all you could do to keep a straight face, pushing back the panic simmering just below the surface. You hoped the darkness of the car would hide the way your jaw was clenching until your teeth hurt, the way your knuckles were turning pale on the steering wheel, or the way your chest rose and fell more rapidly than it should.

One perk of being a supercomputer would be the impeccable observation skills. Vision was nothing if not perceptive. The sound of your breathing alone would’ve tipped him off that something was amiss. He scribbled something quickly on the paper, unbeknownst to you.

Your eyes were glued to the windshield, though you weren’t truly seeing through it. Your thoughts were focused inward. You were so fixated on them, in fact, that you nearly jumped out of your seat when Vision put a hand on your arm.

“Huh— what?” You de-tensed after a moment, Vision’s gentle grip surprisingly reassuring. In his free hand he held up the paper, just barely readable under the flickering light of passing street lamps.

“What is wrong?”

What were you supposed to say to that? ‘Oh, you know, just a little stressed about running from the law!’ There weren’t many words to describe your feelings right now, but you knew ‘stressed’ didn’t quite cover it.

“It’s just— well, what am I going to do now? I can’t exactly go back to my old life. I’m pretty freaked out too. It’s all just too much to process.” You tried not to sound accusatory, but a look briefly crossed the android’s face that you could’ve sworn was guilt. He began writing again after a pause, but scribbled it out before finishing. You caught a glimpse before he threw the crumpled paper into the back seat, just catching sight of the words, “an idea.”

Vision just stared at the blank paper at a loss for words. The experience was new to him. He knew countless words in countless languages and processed thoughts faster than a human could comprehend, yet here he a was; unable to find just the right message to comfort you. It brought him a feeling a helplessness.

As luck would have it, you were just hitting the exit ramp. In the near distance was a flickering neon sign, accompanied by a shabby-looking building.

Pulling into the parking lot revealed this to be the best-case scenario for you. For a motel that sits in the middle of nowhere and looks straight out of a horror movie, the place was surprisingly busy. Counting the doors, you estimated the place only had maybe 12 rooms, max, and there were probably almost that many cars in the lot. That gave you plenty of options.

Once the car was off, you groaned in frustration, letting your head hit the steering wheel with a dull ‘thud.’ Outside, a chorus of cicadas drowned out everything else. Even with the windows up, the noise seemed deafening, or maybe that was just because you were so used to the city. You heard Vision move in his seat, but didn’t bother to look what he was doing. You didn’t move at all, in fact, until you felt his hand on your shoulder.

“There’s a grey SUV a couple rows over. Common model. Inconspicuous.” When you looked up from the paper, Vision gestured out the passenger window. Sure enough, the vehicle he described was right there in plain sight. It was several years old and it showed, but overall there were no real distinguishing features about the vehicle. It had no stickers you could see, no obvious damage, and it had local license plates, so they wouldn’t stand out.

“Nice choice. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were a professional car thief.” You chuckled half-heartedly, too tired for anything more than that. You weren’t sure if it was just the exhaustion setting in, but you could’ve sworn you even saw Vision crack a smile. “Let’s go—“ Before you could finish your sentence, however, a huge yawn came over you.

“You’re exhausted. We need to stop.” Vision had the words down by the time you’d closed your mouth.

“We can’t, we can’t. It’s not safe. I’ll be fine,” you insisted, much to the android’s dismay. You opened your door and stepped outside before he could write a response. The cool night breeze perked you up ever so slightly. The chill was just enough to give you that second wind.

You looked around the lot, trying to lean on the car as inconspicuously as possible while you checked to make sure no one could see you. You didn’t see anyone outside for a cigarette, no one in their cars, no one in the windows, and no security cameras on the building. You leaned down to face the window, gesturing to Vision that the coast was clear. He stepped outside without any further arguments about stopping for the night. He agreed with you that this wasn’t a safe place to stop, but he was also worried you weren’t in a fit state to be driving. He’d have to settle for keeping an eye on you and hope for the best.

The two of you made your way to the SUV, keeping other cars between you and the building as much as possible to hide you from view. You stood a step back from the driver’s door to give Vision room to unlock the car just as he’d done with the last one. Neither of you made a sound until you were in the car and getting back on the road.

As you opened your mouth to speak, another yawn escaped your lips. It was true, you were exhausted and you weren’t sure how much longer you could drive. Until you found somewhere safe however, you didn’t have any other options. “So, you have idea where we should go?”

Vision was already writing something when you’d asked the question. He was writing quite a lot, actually. May as well have been writing a novel on the tiny notepad. He had to lean over a bit more to hold the paper in front of you since the SUV’s cab was wider than the last car. His arm brushed yours and your mind flashed back to the first time you’d touched, when you’d touched his hand back at the lab. You were still stunned by the softness of his artificial skin, and equally red in the face. He really wasn’t like any other machine.

Between your distracted thoughts and the need to keep an eye on the road, it took you annoyingly long to read the note. You kept glancing between it and the pavement ahead of you, your eyes struggling to shift focus in the evening light. Or rather, morning light. The sun was in the earliest stages of rising, the sky still dark but beginning to blend in with your surroundings. It was a bad time to be driving half-awake, that’s for sure.

“Avengers have old safe houses scattered across the country. Closest one should be about a state over. Can stay there awhile, try to contact the team.” You lost your focus on the road as you squinted to read the last line, not noticing the car had begun to drift over the line. Dropping the note, Vision practically leapt over the center console to grab the steering wheel, sharply swerving back into the lane just before you would’ve gone off the road. The whole ordeal definitely woke you up. Sat up straight and with both hands on the wheel in a death grip, you checked your mirrors for other cars around you. As luck would have it, there was no one else close to you. The closest vehicle on your side of the highway was so far back that their headlights were barely a speck in the distance. You let out a sigh of relief. The last thing you needed was someone calling the cops about a crazy driver. That may just be the worst way you could get caught.

You could hear your android passenger writing another note but you cut him off before he could finish. “If you’re gonna tell me we need to stop again, don’t bother. How long a drive would you say this safe house is?”

Vision took a second to scribble out his previous unfinished response before penning a new one. “Five, maybe four hours. Barring any incidents.”

“That’s great. I can do five hours.” You didn’t exactly sound confident, but Vision didn’t question you further about it. “How about we see if there’s any music on. That’ll help me stay awake.” You turned on the car’s stereo and were immediately assaulted by the most god-awful 70’s soft pop that you’d ever heard. It sounded like something that should be playing on loop at 3am in an empty convenience store. It was so dull and repetitive it would’ve put you straight to sleep if it weren’t simultaneously so annoying. You tried skipping through a couple songs on the CD, but it wasn’t getting any better. Whoever owned this car must’ve burned their entire tape deck collection onto here. That’s not to say there isn’t plenty of good music to be found on tapes. In fact if it had been even like a decade newer it would be perfect, but this just wasn’t it.

After the eighth terrible song in a row, you gave up. “Nope. Nope. None of this.” You ejected the disk, across which ‘road trip mix’ was scrawled in messy sharpie, and tossed it haphazardly into the back seat. You switched the radio to FM, figuring literally anything could be better than that. While you were busy fiddling with the console, you didn’t catch the smile that crept across Vision’s face just out of your field of view. He was reminded of Tony Stark and how picky that man was with his music. On multiple occasions, his insistence on finding the ‘perfect soundtrack’ during a mission had nearly gotten him shot. Not that it would’ve hurt him, but it certainly drove the rest of the team up a wall. Vision found himself wondering where the team could possibly be right now, though he didn’t like most of the answers.

When you’d settled on a station, the drive began to settle down. For a good few hours, neither of you spoke, or wrote, in Vision’s case. It wasn’t as if you didn’t have anything to say, but the process of trying to read Vision’s writings while you were driving had proven to be more of a hazard than it was worth, so you kept conversation to a minimum. You figured there’d be time to talk when you got to the safe house.

Every so often the radio station would need changed, either from the weak signal as you drove further away or just because you got sick of hearing commercials. Vision took it upon himself to dial through stations, quickly learning what kind of music you actually liked, or would at least tolerate. Eventually, you didn’t even have to say anything when he landed on a good station. He would just know as soon as you heard the music.

The sun was finally showing itself on the horizon, and the drive was taking a toll on you once more. Once or twice, you felt your eyelids beginning to drift shut before you’d snap them open again. Whenever that happened, you would turn up the volume a little on the radio. Had you been more awake, you would’ve noticed Vision gazing at you for the last ten minutes, as if studying you.

As a matter of fact, he was. Studying you, that is. He wondered what sort of person you were to help someone like him. It took a lot of bravery to do what you had done. That, or sheer stupidity, but you seemed like a more intelligent person than people realized. Were you just the type of person to help any poor soul that crossed your path? What could your life possibly be like that you’d drop it all for him? Were you afraid? Were you lost?

Were you alone, like him?

A road sign alerting you of the approaching state border caught both of your attention, and Vision was already writing a response before you could even ask the question.

“City’s about half an hour from here. I’ll try to give you directions.”

You simply nodded in response. You wondered if he had a GPS of some kind in that big computer brain of his, or if he’d just memorized the locations of all the safe houses and was good with directions. Either worked, you supposed.

You found yourself in what could only loosely be referred to as a city, definitely a lot smaller than where you lived. Or rather, where you used to live. But now wasn’t the time to think about that. This city wasn’t some backwater hamlet by any means, but it was definitely smaller than anywhere you’d been to in a long time. Getting directions was something of a difficulty as you got further into the city. Vision couldn’t really write out instructions on the fly and if you went the wrong way that would just mess it all up anyway. A fair amount of frustration and several wrong turns later, Vision gave up on trying to write anything and just gestured when you needed to turn. It was possibly the least fun game of charades you’d ever played.

Eventually the business districts gave way to a slightly more familiar setting. This part of town was what you could fairly call dilapidated, packed with narrow streets, run-down apartment buildings, and more pedestrians than cars, though there wasn’t even many of those. Vision insisted you were in the right place, so you didn’t question it further. He directed you to an alleyway that led to a small parking lot behind one of the many identical buildings, where you finally stopped the car. Good timing too. You couldn’t go much longer on the fuel you had and stopping at a gas station had seemed like a good way to get caught.

“Okay, what now?” You sat back as you removed the keys from the ignition and looked over at Vision. It took him a good thirty seconds to write out his response.

“The safe house is close by, but we’ll have to walk. We can leave the car here with the keys on the seat. Ideally someone else will see them and take it. We’ll take the plates. Out-of-state. Easier to trace back to us.”

The plan seemed fine to you except for one thing. “How far do we have to walk, exactly? Won’t someone see you? It’s broad daylight.”

“That’s a chance we’ll have to take. Luckily, not many people seem to live around here.”

You didn’t like it, but you didn’t have any better ideas. “Alright, lead the way.”

You did as Vision had said and left the car keys on the driver’s seat. You even left the car unlocked for good measure. Once you got out, however, things got a little more difficult. As you walked around to the back of the car, you heard a loud thud from the passenger side. You raced around to find Vision leaning haphazardly on the side of the car, one hand braced against the metal and the other clutching his side. The pen and paper had been dropped on the ground.

“What’s wrong?! Are you— are you hurt? What happened?” You raced over to him as he struggled back to his feet, unsure what you should do. You scooped up the pen and paper, handing it over to him as soon as he could support himself again.

“Just a bit of internal damage. Seems to have gotten a little worse but there’s no need to worry.”

“That sounds like something I should definitely be worried about.” Other than his arm, you hadn’t realized he might be hurt. It makes sense that an android could have internal injuries, just as well as any human. You just hoped it wasn’t too serious. You weren’t a medical professional, but you would still be more confident in helping tend human injuries rather than android. You hadn’t the slightest idea how to help with those.

He waved you off like it wasn’t a big deal and you decided not to push your luck. He insisted the walk to the safe house would be short so you headed that way. You couldn’t help but notice his steps were more uneven, however, although he was doing his best to hide it. You wondered if he felt pain the same way you did. You kind of hoped not. You didn’t like the idea of him being in pain, especially if there was nothing you could do to help.

You stuck to alleys and backstreets, which made the walk a but longer than it needed to be but you couldn’t risk anyone seeing Vision, at least not up close. You always walked with him between you and the nearest wall, trying to shield him from view as best you could. It didn’t help that he was taller than you. You were so focused on scanning your surroundings for any onlookers that you almost walked right by the safe house. Vision grabbed your arm to stop you and you turned to look at the building. It looked just like all the other buildings around it; vines climbing the brick walls, curtains covering the windows, cement crumbling around the foundations. It hardly looked safe. Though perhaps that was the idea. It certainly blended in. No one would suspect anything out of the ordinary.

As you climbed the steps, you noticed the electronic keypad by the door. It was just a series of buttons with apartment numbers and names printed on them, though most of them were faded beyond legibility. You highly doubted there was anyone inside to buzz you into the building.

“I don’t suppose you have a key.” You watched as Vision shook his and approached the keypad. He pressed one of the names and for a brief moment you genuinely thought you were going to have to have someone let you in. Then he pressed another name, and another. It was a seemingly random order that you quickly realized was a code. Leave it to the Avengers to put a secret code on their already secret safe house.

The door buzzed once the code was entered, signaling that it was unlocked. Vision ushered you inside and you were immediately overwhelmed by all the dust in the air. You couldn’t help but sneeze one, two, three times in a row. For a brief second you swore the room was spinning. Then you blinked away the blurriness in your eyes and took a good look around.

From the outside, the building looked like the kind that would have multiple apartments in it, but that change once you got inside. It was set up like a town house of sorts, with the front door leading directly into a living area. The building was only two stories, but that was still a lot of space for a single unit in a neighborhood like this. In a bigger city, this place would cost a fortune. Although it needed some work. Everything was covered in a heavy layer of dust and a the air was heavy with a musty smell. Still, if it was safe, that’s all that mattered.

As soon as your eyes landed on the sofa, all your concerns vanished into thin air. You didn’t even take the time to look for a blanket or bother to see what Vision was doing before you collapsed onto that dusty sofa as if it were a bed fit for a king. You vaguely noticed the feeling of a blanket being draped over you before drifting off into much-needed sleep.

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A/N: I’ll be honest, this blog has been a little neglected since I started writing my Mandalorian fanfic (link to my AO3 at the top of the page if you’re interested winkwink) but I’ll try to get back into the swing of it. If there’s one thing quarantine is good for, it’s giving me time to write!

#vision/reader #vision x reader

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bytemycupcakes · 4 years

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So I have an ongoing s4m rp with my dear friend @sheischerrybomb.

In this rp, I play Pabit. He is a possesed pupet that Habit has made demonic deals to bring to life.

That used to be the only complex thing about this little shitpost.

But...

Pabit started getting empty. Started hating himself.

And I’ve accidentally turned him into this complex and sad creature that wants to stop being treated like an infant.

Here’s a whole rant he ended up doing while figuring this out:

And seperated from the rant but related, when Habit asked if Pabit wanted to be an actual person:

And incase Tumblr ruins photo quality (And easier readability), here’s a text version (Just straight copied from discord) under the cut

Pa: Did you know Pabit can't read? That Pabit can barely talk. That Pabit is always treated like the little flower no matter how he acts.... -Ahh Pabit is reaching a train of thought-

Pa: Pabit is not very old in reality. Pabit knows that. But Pabit has such com- Cop- c o m p- -squints- so many thoughts. That Pabit should not be treated like baby! -He smacks his little hands onto Habits in his tiny rage- Pabit is only treated good by the tiny children! Mostly the little theif! Wolf boy has no right to look down on Pabit! Pabit may not be able to speak it, but Pabit thinks like himb!

Pa: Pabit cant even turn pages! -he throws his leetol hands up, almost smacking Habit- Trencil let Pabit look at book, and when Pabit struggled he was BABIED! Pabit is tired of it! Stupid puppet body is so limited that Pabit will never be treated as equal! always a fragile baby or not even sentient! Pabit just- -He slouches back down, slightly tuckered out- Pabit just wants to feel real

Pa: Pabit was tiny. Pabit ages. -he wiggles his legs- Puppet body doesn't but.. -he taps his head- Mind does.

Pa: Flesh would ensure Pabit would be taken seriously, yet flesh will ruin Pabits assumed immortality.... And tiny Puppet body can travel the Habitat easily, while is unclear if flesh could do the same.... -holds his hands out, wiggling his little felt fingers- But flesh has so much more to offer than scuttering. Pabit could walk, or have fine motor skills... So many pros to flesh, but will Pabit be happy? Or WIll it bring new emptiness?

#smile for me #Sfm Pabit #Boris Habit #sfm boris habit #smile for me Pabit #I dont know what the fuck I did to this poor puppet but I feel BAD

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diningpageantry · 5 years

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You Look Better in Person

Archive Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18215168/chapters/43275707

Chapter 8/10 of It’s A Handheld Disaster

Word Count: 3030

Chapter Summary: Simon and Baz's first encounter leaves them both awestruck.

BAZ

It’s a bloody pain in my ass, headache of a drive. I barely got halfway through before turning off my music and just focusing on what I’d say--how I’d react. It isn’t just getting Snow, it’s seeing him. An experience that’s completely new to the both of us. Somehow, despite him saying he’s the scared one, I find myself being absolutely petrified. I (only slightly) doubt he’ll reject my offer of help, especially since I'm driving up the country to get him, but I do suspect him to be hesitant of me nonetheless.

Oddly enough, I feel none of that fear towards him. No matter what, I’ll be there for him. I’m not quite sure what to expect, though. Fuck if any expectations I have for him matters, really.

I’d thought too much over the drive. Frankly, I think too much overall. That, I need to stop.

Staring at my phone mindlessly truly proves it, given I don’t have half a brain cell to coherently read the maps as they show me around the city. Eventually, though (through trial and error), I find myself going down the same street twice, trying to spot a local park that's apparently down the road. Google Maps yells at me, telling me I’m rapidly approaching my destination (over and over, between each condescending “Recalculation”).

My heart pounds faster with each rotation of my wheels, making my vision all fuzzy and warped. Exhaling slowly, I peer around and spot someone lying on a bench in the centre of the park, dressed up in a hoodie, sweats, and trainers. They seem to be hugging a duffel bag close, as if everything that's left is inside of it. I can’t quite make much out of them, with to their hood being pulled tight around their face and all, but I can tell that they’re alone.

Once parked, I shoot Simon a quick text, trying to swallow back my fear of what's probably true. That it is him.

i’m in the black volvo in the lot

Suddenly, the head of the person shoots up, then starts looking around as their body rises. I still can’t see their face, shadowed down by the harsh lamp lights, but they seem to be facing me.

That… must be him.

He pulls himself to standing, a slight hunch in his shoulders as he hauls the bag over his left one. He’s broad, and a solid height, too. When the light catches the few hairs spilling from his hood, they shine a deep copper.

Each of his steps feel like a lifetime. Exhausted, heavy stomps of his feet onto the ground as he brings himself closer until he stands barely a yard away from the car. Shamelessly, I stare out the window, wide eyed and barely choking out a breath.

He’s absolutely, unbelievably handsome. Square jawed, curly haired, and blue, blue eyes. He’s got a near rugby build, and a tired, barely existent smile pressing his freckled and moled cheeks into creases. He is, without a doubt, one of the most the most gorgeous humans I’ve ever seen.

His hand rises up shakily, nearly forming a wave as he struggles to keep a face in a readable expression other than wordless, overworked sadness.

My hand slides down my door, finding the lock without me looking and flicking the doors unlocked with a clear click. I watch as he hesitates at first, looking between me and the car a few times. The fluorescent lights flicker as he swallows, neck bobbing along.

Eventually, he relents and slips into the passenger seat without taking his eyes off me once.

At first, we just stare. Silent, carefully timed breaths fill the car as we just look over one another. I must look tired; I feel tired. He looks it, too.

I cut off my own words before I speak. I know he is tired. I don’t even need to ask.

The bag pressed to his chest loosens slightly, slumping down onto his lap as he swallows again. I can’t stop myself from watching him, heart thumping. It’s unreal--he must be unreal.

“Hey,” he whispers, the same shock I’m wearing mirrored onto his face.

SIMON

He’s so beautiful that I can barely think of words. Of all things I could say, of all things I should say, none of them weasel out other than “Hey”.

Granted, I have nothing better to say, given I’d probably be stupid and call him every word I’m thinking of.

I’ve never quite met a bloke who’s as pretty as he is. Slate eyes, brown skin, and ink black hair that starts at a widow’s peak, falling onto his shoulders in the slightest of waves. Despite the dark circles under his eyes, he seems alert and a bit shaken, a hand gripping the shifting stick that’s resting clearly on “P”.

I can’t quite think of anything else to vocalize. I’ve cried too much tonight, and it’s really fucking late. I need to rest… I just want…

“Why were you at the park?” He asks, suddenly dropping my gaze. It’s fine, though--my eyes drift back down to his narrow, bony hands, gliding movements over the shift. He pushes it into “R”, pulling the car out of the spot before turning, flicking to “D”, and going. His hands are like the pictures. It’s relaxing.

“Hm? O-oh,” I say quietly, fiddling with the strap of my bag. With a glance from him towards my buckle, I realize I missed a step. Fuck. I click myself in, continuing, “I’d told Davy I-I was going to Penn’s all weekend f-for a school project after our fight, b-b-but I told Penn I was gr-grounded.”

“So…”

“So I’m stuck,” I add, gaze shifting out the window and staying there. “Nowhere to go.”

He’s silent for a second, the only sound filling the air being the popping of rocks under the tyres. Once down the street, and another street, and then another, he finally says something.

“I’ve got somewhere,” he finally starts. When I look at him, he’s avoidant--eyes unwaveringly ahead, and hands gripping the wheel so tight that his knuckles are pulled taunt. “It’s a bit far, though. You can nap, if you want. It’ll be some time.”

“Where..?”

“You’ll see when we’re there.” And with that, he’s silent again. Given the flatness of his answer, I don’t feel it proper to argue. Really, I can’t argue at all with the prospect of a rest.

So, I take it. I suppose I’m asleep for a few good hours before I’m jostled awake by the overwhelming, perpetually buzzing lights of a petrol station. It's still dark out.

I peer out to see Baz standing, glancing over his shoulder at the machine as his hands hold the pump. Instinctively, I pull my hoodie closer, finally getting a good look at him in some sort of full light.

Shit. He even looks good at the pump.

He catches my eyes briefly, staring back before quickly turning back away, and acting as if I don’t see him swallow sharply. I act like I didn’t see it either, especially not as he sits back in the car and looks towards me, but not directly at me. “Hungry?”

Always. “A bit.”

He wordlessly pulls up to the store of the station before turning back off the car. “Come on, I’ll cover you.”

Given I only have the little cash I had in my sock drawer on me, I don’t argue. Instead, I step out and follow him, glancing up once I'm entirely trailing behind him. He’s got a few good inches on me, which, frankly, makes me blush a good bit. Who gave him the right to be practically a supermodel?

“Get anything,” he says, and I do. Two bags of crisps, a bottle of chocolate milk, and a shitty, wrapped cinnamon roll. He just grabs a coffee, pouring an egregious amount of sugar and creamer into it before going up to pay. He doesn’t even flinch--just pays.

It feels odd. Looks odd. It’s like Aggie paying--a disregard of wealth beyond a comprehensive point.

Back in the car, he sips his drink, cringes, and waits until I’m buckled back in before going.

I’m up this time, and probably for the long run, as he starts driving again.

“So, where are we going?” I ask, twisting the cap off the milk and hearing the satisfying snap of the breaking seal. “I feel like I should allowed to know eventually.”

“London,” he responds borderline robotically, not bothering a look at me.

“Wait, fuck. London? Isn’t that--”

“Six hours, yes. You’ve slept for well over half the trip, don’t worry.” He risks a quick glance at me, and as if it were magic, I see him relax. His muscles drop the tension, and his seemingly permanent frown loosens to a genuine flash of concern. Then, as quickly as his composure went, it comes back. Like it was a flicker in his system. “Just rest.”

“How are you staying up?”

“Will power.”

I don’t stop the snort slipping out, biting my lip. “You really are a vampire, huh?”

His face relaxes back slightly, spreading into the smallest of smiles. “No, but that’d be more fun.”

I huff in agreement, letting myself grin along this time. “It would be, yeah.”

We fall silent again, but this time it’s a bit better. It’s an odd reminder that this, this Baz right in front of me, is the same one I’ve known for months. It’s just his flesh and blood--living and breathing body. A human.

I want to reach out and touch him, to see if he’s real. I nearly do so, but my mind stops me before my hand grips his. I think he catches sight of my reach, though, because the arm closest to me drops from the wheel, resting palm-up on the centre console.

Either it’s an invitation or a mistake. Both are something I’m dumb enough to work with.

My fingertips skate over his wrist first, glazing over the ridges where his veins sit. They ridge up, rising above the rest of his smooth arm and pumping below my touch. At first, he begins to retract before stopping himself and staying, opened up to me. A careful fingertip moves to trace the lines of his palm, my breath barely under control. He lets me have my time, and slowly yet surely, I settle my hand on top of his, fingers shifting until they’re locked between his.

His hand curls up first, holding tightly to mine, When I look at him, he’s lightly sucking on his lip, keeping his eyes trained forward as his thumb slowly slides over my hand.

If it wasn’t for the weight of the day, I might’ve started crying again. Instead, I find myself staring. I settle my head back onto the comfortable, leather headrest, eyes falling softly onto the sharp edges of his face. I trace them, thankful for each passing car of street light that illuminates the cabin just enough to let me see the details.

His eyes look puffy and dark, dark eyelashes falling onto his skin. His nose sits a bit high, and his brow seems aristocratic. His lips, at a natural downcurve, hang open in the slightest and look a bit shiny when he stops biting them.

He doesn’t put any attention onto me, but holds my hand against his comfortably, keeping the slow drag of his skin against mine. It isn't rough, like mine is, except for at his pads. They're calloused right at the tips.

I space out, watching him attentively until countryside fades into bright city lights, mixing with the creeping sun.

He pulls up into a lot, telling them the apartment number before the car climbs up into a space. Once parked, he lets go of my palm with a sorry look, glancing over me once before stepping out.

He doesn’t let me carry my bag, holding both his and mine in each arm. The walk is brief, and within minutes, he’s pushing a key into a small, comfortable London flat, letting me inside first.

The lights are all shut, and it's got the distinct layer of light dust to show it's been untouched for months. He confirms my sneaking suspicion even before I get to ask it.

“It's my aunt's,” he says away from me, settling my bag onto a chair and his on an adjacent one. “She travels in the winter to somewhere warmer, and leaves me a key to get away.”

“I know. I've followed you long enough, you know.” I'd smile if my cheeks weren't too weak to hold one.

After stealing a look at his blushing face, I drag myself to the bed, running a hand over the sheet slowly. The other side dips with Baz's weight as he settles down onto the edge, staring at the pulling sheets with his hand settling so close to mine.

I must be mad, because I reconnect my fingers with his on impulse.

At first, we're still. I'm standing, and he's sitting. We're statues, dimly lit by the outside life. He must not be brave, or maybe I just might be more stupid, because I'm the first to move. My fingers weave between his, hand pressing closer towards him as we remain in an odd silence.

I wish I knew what I was doing.

Even without a full mind, I know what feels right, and it's being as close to Baz as possible. So maybe I don't need to know exactly what I'm doing, I just need to know that it's good.

BAZ

I wish I knew what he was doing.

I know what I want. I want to wrap my arms around him and hold him close. I want us to bathe in the rising sun and forget everything else in the world.

I want his hood off, and I want my fingers in his hair.

I want it so bad that I stop thinking and I do it, reaching my hand out and slowly dragging the cotton-y cloth off. Out springs his hair, clearly darker in the faint lights, but sticking up and unruly. My hand hesitates, fingers hovering above his scalp before I feel his head tilt and rest against my palm.

It's thick. Unbrushed. Uses shit shampoo and probably rarely conditions.

Nonetheless, it's fantastic. I can barely explain feeling of just carding my fingers through it.

Simon's eyes fall only my face, dancing around before falling back shut. I can feel the rise and fall of his body with a heavy breath, making my heart nearly stop.

“Is this okay?” whisper, holding his head carefully. His curls bob with his nod, eyes still settled shut. “How… about sleeping?”

“What about it?”

“There's one bed, and a couch. I can sleep on the couch…”

He shakes his head, keeping against me. “‘M not shy,” he whispers as an odd invitation to share.

I'm definitely not the one to turn it down.

“Neither am I,” I whisper back, hand squeezing his. He just looks towards out touching skin, biting his lip while letting go to unlace his trainers. I take the hint to unlace my own shoes, settling them aside before tugging at the blankets. He shifts, allowing me to turn them down and slip inside. He doesn't follow, lying above the blanket.

“Aren't you cold?” I murmur, turning to my side. He mirrors, propping himself on his elbow.

“Rarely.”

“Why?”

He shrugs, heavy eyes falling back shut.

I want to prove it for myself.

My hand reaches out, fingertips settling hesitantly onto his cheek. Surely enough, his it’s well warm under mine.

His lashes are short, but a gentle contrast against his skin as they flutter back open. They lay on my hand, then my own eyes, lip sucking into his mouth as he bites it. He's dead silent as he extends his hand, meeting my cheek with his palm.

“You're freezing,” he lets out, nose wrinkling. His hand doesn't move away.

“Always am.”

“Damn, I'm sorry.”

Helplessly, my face falls into an open smile, shamelessly relaxing. “It's fine. It's just… how it is.”

His eyes rest back on mine, staying there as his fingers flatten down. Eventually, I feel his thumb rub back and forth against my skin, hand cupping me gently. Like I'm some prized possession of his.

“Is it cold in here? Does it bother you?” His hand moves up and slips into my hair, pushing it back with a slow drag. I feel my heart flutter, mouth parting open as I sink into the feeling.

“No,” I finally respond. There's so much to be said, but it feels like we're tiptoeing around it. A slow, languishing fight for affection from one another, and I don't quite know who's winning. “I'm rather comfortable.”

His head nods, my gentle grip falling out of his hair and settling onto his back. At a snail's pace, his hand slowly untangles from my hair and falls back to my face. As if I'd willed it to, his fingers rest onto my lips.

I risk a quick peck onto them, watching his cheeks flush at the motion. Yet, still, he's silent, keeping his fingers still.

I don't want to stop. I don't want to shut my eyes and rest, but as every second creeps on, so does my exhaustion. It isn't until my eyelids finally fall shut that I feel him scoot closer, arm draping around me.

He smells like cheap soap and chocolate milk. I wish I could smell him forever.

“You smell like cigarettes,” he tells me. His words burn like the guilt in my throat, still rough from the two I'd smoked earlier..

“Don't worry about it.”

A beat. Then, “I worry about you anyway.”

I don't know how to swallow that one.

Instead, I just keep my eyes shut, holding his still-linked hand tighter. “Don't worry about it now. We can talk about it tomorrow.”

He must be right in front of me. I can feel it--his slow exhale near my face. It's warm, and his forehead touches mine as he lowers it for a nod. “Sleep tight, Baz.”

#it's a handheld disaster #carry on #snowbaz #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #mine #simon snow #tyrannus basilton grimm-pitch #tyrannus basilton grimm pitch #baz pitch #simon #baz #i'm so fuckin sleepie rn so i post this. then go sleep. hehehe. i leave u with this.

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peppy-pilot · 5 years

Note

Do you have any tips for new roleplayers on Tumblr?

//It really depends on just how new this RPer is. Are they new to RPing in general? New to the Tumblr community? New to RPing canon muses? Or OCs? Because any advice to these that’d cover all these bases wouldn’t be anything more than

But okay, I’m going to assume the person is just new to Tumblr RP in itself but has had some RPing experience prior. Feel free to request tips for something more specific if this isn’t what you’re looking for.

Include an About and Rules page among your blog links. This is extremely important because not everyone interprets your muse or RPs the same way you do, so this gives other RPers a headsup on what to expect and how to approach you. Rules also puts RPers at ease on what to avoid and how to make your RPing experience smoother.

Make sure your blog is accessible and readable. Sure, folks would die for aesthetic, and others would be turned off by someone who only uses the extremely basic Tumblr blog formats. All won’t matter if content is absolutely unreadable and your About/Rules/other important links are inaccessible upon visiting the blog. Make sure important links, if they have a custom coding, are at least intuitive in access (as in people can guess where they are without spending hours on searching for it).

A major reminder: Some Tumblr users (such as myself) have vision problems and would rather not want to squint just to read extra-flowery or super tiny text. If you’re going to customize the body of your writing, keep the font simple, avoid cursive, and avoid super-tiny font sizes. Anything smaller than Arial 9 would be unbearable.

Icons aren’t as important as most blogs make them seem to be–a good chunk of us actually don’t mind iconless threads at all! However, if you will be using icons, and canon material is sparse on rendering them in an expression that can be useable, you can definitely borrow other artists’ art–but ask permission first. Do not steal art, and especially do not steal someone else’s icons–even if it’s just screencaps of official media. Making icons even from screencaps is still a lot of hard work and often involves a lot of hours into editing and formatting. Just make your own.

And if you’re going to draw your own art, quality isn’t that important. JUST DRAW. A good chunk of us artist-RPers, in fact, use RP as an opportunity to practice and improve on our abilities to portray expressions and scenes, regardless of quality–especially because they tend to just be fast 10-minute sketches anyway. In fact, that’s the kind of art I would recommend over something far higher quality. Believe me, trying to produce high-quality art for your RP threads all the time will bring in artist’s block faster than you can say “perfectionism”! Be loose, love what you’re doing, and have fun!

You can borrow from other RPers’ headcanons, but be wary of outright using them. Just like art and writing, many writers and RPers aren’t too keen on someone outright stealing their headcanons. With that said, if your headcanon is, coincidentally similar to someone else’s, or happens to be fanon or fandom-accepted (e.g., “I headcanon Fox and Falco are in love!”), then I highly encourage you place your own take on that particular headcanon. People are more than likely to love and appreciate headcanons that diverge a little differnt from others as long as there is a lot of thought into it.

Trim your posts. Trim your posts. Trim your posts. This isn’t even a suggestion or a tip, this is just Tumblr RP ettiquette. If you don’t know how to trim your posts, I highly recommend grabbing XKit and the Editable Reblogs extension for easier trimming. This method helps too.

Don’t stress over replying right away. Tumblr RP is not real-time RP, and a scenario that ought to be taking place within a span of 5 minutes could take 5 weeks to accomplish. A lot of RPers are students and workers with stubborn muses, and even if someone is up at night replying to threads, they may not get to yours on time before they get tired or writer’s block. Remember: RP is a hobby. You are in no obligation to always reply right away, and the same goes for your partner. Be patient with yourself and them.

Last, but not least: Always communicate with your RP partners. Even if you’re a shy bean and not very chatty, being in communication with your RP partner is extremely important. Naybe you want to ship. Maybe you have a great thread idea! Maybe there was something about their reply that made you extremely uncomfortable and you have a right to express it. Maybe you feel your thread isn’t going anywhere and you’d like to start a new one. Maybe RP is just not working out. Don’t leave your partners hanging! And if your partner isn’t approaching you for something, you can always approach them too. But remember: be courteous, be kind, be civil, and be polite. RP acquaintances and partners do not always automatically mean becoming super close friends where you can scream obscenities at each other and everything will be okay. Talk to each other like you would to their face.

And that’s all I got so far! Sorry this got wordy and a little TL;DR, I just hope to cover my bases regarding what to bear in mind for Tumblr RP! If you have any other questions, feel free to ask, though I highly recommend @fuckyeahroleplayadvice more regarding RPing on Tumblr!

#[OOC]#Anonymous

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missblanchette · 5 years

Text

Rumor Has It [6/10]

Series: Hypnosis Mic

Characters: Izanami Hifumi/Yumeno Gentaro; Minor Jinguji Jakurai/Kannonzaka Doppo

Rating: T

Summary: Thousands of hearts broke that day. With tears shed and cries resounding to the heavens, each grief-stricken woman wondered how this could possibly happen. In the year 20XX of the H. Era, Matenrou’s MC GIGOLO and Fling Posse’s MC Phantom were officially in a relationship.

Except they weren’t, actually.

Notes: The first part kiiinda reads like a chat fic LMAO I tried to make the images as small as possible while still being readable, but there’s a link to the high res of the chats if you click on the day of the week!

Words: 3,470 + a looot of text messages lol

ko-fi // Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | You can read this on AO3! Thank you for reading~! Hope you guys enjoy~! ( ﾟ▽ﾟ)/

Ch. 6: Head Over Heels

tuesday

wednesday

thursday

friday

saturday

"Er, Hifumi? A little help here?" Doppo said, juggling two bowls of curry udon in his hands.

"Gimme o~ne sec, Doppo-chin," singsonged Hifumi as he snapped pictures of the food. Three weeks wasn't that long in retrospect, but it felt like three decades since he was able to cook anything saucier than omurice. Sure, he couldn't do it all on his own, but with some (read: a lot of) direction, Doppo could whip something up. At the very least, it actually looked like udon and not a glob of goo like that time Doppo heated up cup noodles.

"What are you doing?"

"Sending pics to Yumenon." Hifumi hummed as he scrolled through his camera roll, unsure of which ones to send. They all looked good so he sent every single one. "I told him we were cooking, so I wanted to show him what a great job you did. Oh, I should show Doc, too!"

Hands too busy to hide his face, Doppo looked away. "It's not that great..."

"Of course it is!" Texts sent, Hifumi pocketed his phone and grabbed a bowl from Doppo. Skipping over to the dining room, the savory scent of the broth wafted throughout. "Ooh, smells yummy~"

"I just did what you told me to." Putting down the rest of the food, Doppo busied himself with setting up the table.

"And you're the one who did the actual cooking. It looks great, so be proud of yourself!"

Flopping into his seat, Doppo sighed. "Well, it doesn't matter if it doesn't taste great."

"Aw, c'mon, it's not like you burnt anything this time," Hifumi said, shoving him playfully. "I'm sure it's, like, edible."

Doppo grunted ("Whatever you say" in Dopponese), but he eyed the food nonetheless. Smiling, Hifumi plopped into his seat and clapped his hands together.

"Let's eat, then?"

Doppo followed suit. "Let's eat."

Not wasting a second, Hifumi grabbed his chopsticks and slurped up some udon. The richness of the curry and the mild sweetness hitting his tongue, his eyes widened and he melted into the flavor.

"Oh my God, Doppo-chin, this is good!"

Rubbing the back of his neck, Doppo looked down at his bowl. He hadn't touched his food yet. "You mean that?"

"Why wouldn't I? Like, okay, maybe the noodles are a little too soft and maybe it's kinda salty, but It’s so savory and rich! I gotta let Doc know!"

"You don't have to, it's not that big of a deal --"

"It totally is, it's your first not-crappy meal! Doc's gonna be so impressed~" Faster than Doppo could blink, Hifumi shot Matenrou's group chat with nothing but stickers and cheers for his food. He gasped then, seeing the next name on his contacts. "I'll let Yumenon know, too."

"Yumeno-san, huh..." Brow creasing, Doppo took a bite of his food. "You've been talking to him a lot recently."

All his focus on LINE, Hifumi nodded. "Yeah! He's pretty fun to talk to, actually."

"That's nice..." Trailing off, Doppo tapped his chopsticks against the edge of his bowl in a steady rhythm. "Hey, Jinguji-san and I are planning on going out tomorrow, and we wanted to know if you wanted to come? I know it's tiring staying home all day."

Hifumi's head snapped up. "Boy, do I! Where are we going? Fishing?"

"No fishing for you yet --" Hifumi pouted, to which Doppo huffed out a laugh. "-- but we're going out for lunch."

"Ooh, where? Can we get Italian?"

"Italian sounds good.”

"Yay! How 'bout after? Are we doing anything?"

"We didn't have anything in mind, but we can do something if you want to."

"Why don't we go to Sakuragaoka-cho Street?"

"Sakuragaoka-cho...?" The tapping quickened. "Isn't that in Shibuya?"

"Yep."

"I don't know, Hifumi..."

"Awww, c'mon, Doppo-chin." He took Doppo's hand from across the table and bounced it up and down, putting an end to the tapping. "I think you'll like it there. It's like really pretty and quiet and there's tons of cafes along the street, so you can relax a little! Doc, too."

Lips pursing, Doppo gave him a once over. If he had anything to say, he didn't and welp, that was Doppo for you. Instead, he sighed that sigh of his -- the light, relenting one rather than the heavy, exasperated one. Small as it was, he smiled.

----------------

"We'll see," he said, his grip on Hifumi's hand tightening.

The next morning, Hifumi woke up bright and early for the day that awaited him; his excitement made more palpable when he saw he had a text from Gentaro.

Heart leaping, Hifumi replied immediately.

Though he was far from impatient, never had waiting for a text felt so long. Tick, tick, tick, the seconds ticked by and --

His shoulders sagged, lips curling down as he read Gentaro's message. But as he began typing a reply, his phone pinged.

Perking up, he grinned.

With that, Hifumi hopped out of bed. Today was already looking to be good, but now it had to be great -- no, amazing! He was going to have fun for two, after all.

----------------

It was a once in a blue moon occasion that he was able to hang out with Doppo, let alone him and Jakurai at once. A shame this time was because of his medical leave, but. Whatever. The reason wasn't important. As promised, Doppo and Jakurai took him out for Italian -- the real, fancy kind, much to his delight. What wasn't so delightful, though, was how they paid for his food despite his protests. No matter! He'd just have to get back at them by cooking a super yummy meal the next time they were all able to get together.

Again, he lost two-against-one when deciding what to do after lunch -- or more like Jakurai suggested somewhere else and Doppo went "Anywhere is fine with me, but..." which pretty much meant "Yeah, let's go with Jinguji-san's idea" -- but he couldn't deny that Shinjuku Gyoen was a nice place. What really mattered to him, anyways, was that he was there with Doppo and Jakurai. With an arm linked with each of theirs, even he could appreciate the calm and quiet of the park. How couldn't he, when Doppo’s blood vessels weren’t on the verge of popping for once and Jakurai, too, wasn't tense with stress. Speaking of which...

A grin growing on his face, Hifumi dropped his hands to grab onto Doppo's and Jakurai's. He swung their hands about in an arc once, twice, three times before hopping back from his place in the middle and clasping their hands together.

Pausing, Doppo narrowed his eyes at him. The blush coloring his cheeks didn't help him much, though.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing~"

"Hifumi." Despite his glare, Doppo hadn't let go of Jakurai's hand.

"What?" he said, waving him off. "You guys are a couple, so you gotta act like one!"

Doppo heaved a sigh, the exasperated one. "My coworkers already ask me enough about you and Yumeno-san, I don't need them hounding me about Jinguji-san either."

"Actually, Doppo-kun --" Jakurai cut in before Hifumi could speak again. Holding Doppo's hand to his chest, a light pink dusted his cheeks in spite of the calm expression he wore. "-- there aren't too many people out here, so perhaps it wouldn't hurt to indulge in Hifumi-kun for now?"

Stuttering, Doppo's face reddened. "W-Well, I guess not..."

More than happy to play cupid, Hifumi wrapped his arms around them and pushed them forward with a laugh. They chattered on about life and the like as they continued strolling through the park, Hifumi more than eager to listen to Doppo's and Jakurai's work stories since home wasn't exactly the most exciting place. All the while, the wind swept by and sent the sakura petals flying in their direction.

"Maybe we should make you a flower crown, Doc." Hifumi giggled, picking off the petals that'd gotten caught in Jakurai's hair. From his palms, the breeze carried the petals away and they drifted into the sky; counting them off one by one, the scene reminded him of another outing that took place a while ago. "Y'know, this is kinda like when I went out with Yumenon the other day!"

"'Yumenon'?" Jakurai asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Ah, he means Yumeno-san."

"Yeppers! I dropped by Shibuya last week and ran into him."

Jakurai let out a low hum. "I wasn’t aware you two were that close."

"Yeah, we started talking lots after the the whole stabbing incident. Look, see." Pulling out his phone, he opened up his LINE chat with Gentaro and shoved it into Jakurai's face. "Hey, we should take a selfie! Let him know what we're up to."

"Perhaps later, Hifumi-kun." Jakurai's lips tugged up, the smile not quite reaching his eyes. He took a cursory glance at the screen before gently nudging Hifumi's hand away. "While I'm glad you're making friends, I advise you to be cautious around Yumeno-kun."

Hifumi’s steps slowed down, his brows furrowing. "What? Why?"

"Yumeno-kun is a member of Fling Posse, yes?" Blue irises clouding over, Jakurai brought their stroll to a stop. "Then certainly he has agreed to Amemura-kun's terms and Amemura-kun is... not the most trustworthy person out there."

Hifumi pouted. "Aw, Dr. Jakurai..."

"It's weird, though, isn't it?" Doppo piped up. Biting his lip, his gaze shifted from the ground to Hifumi. "That he came to our apartment when he shouldn't have known where we lived? And didn't you say he called you before this whole thing happened? That seems kind of suspicious to me..."

Pout turned frown, Hifumi started shaking Doppo's arm. "I mean... yeah, but...!"

Jakurai placed a hand on Hifumi’s shoulder, calming him down a bit.

"I do not wish to jump to conclusions, but Doppo-kun has a point. All of this seems rather sudden, so I think it would be wise to keep your guard up."

"You guys make it sound like he's some kinda bad guy..."

"Maybe he's not as good as he seems," Doppo said, barely audible.

"Nope!" Hifumi slapped his hands over his ears. "Don't wanna hear it!"

"Hifumi --"

"You guys are taking this waaay too seriously."

Taking a step back, Hifumi met Doppo's gaze, then Jakurai's. He'd seen those wary looks in their eyes before -- too many times to count from Doppo, always there to keep him from jumping headfirst into things; from Jakurai, whenever his past got brought up, regardless of how many reassurances he gave. Usually he could appreciate their levelheadedness, but accusing a friend was different than getting into trouble. Especially when they didn't know him like he did.

"There's no way Yumenon's a bad guy... Like, have you read his books? Or even seen the work he puts into them?" He continued, his hands clenching at his sides and his nails digging into his skin. A book filled with notes and dreams came to mind, fantastical stories woven about people passing by; the look on Gentaro’s face as he covered every detail and spun each tale one of pure joy. "He puts so much care and effort into what he does! And the stories themselves, there's so much emotion in them. There's a lonely kinda feel to them, but there's always a happy ending -- like, there's always hope no matter what!"

He paused, trying to make sense of Doppo and Jakurai's reactions. Nothing, except for silence and stares. They listened -- they always listened -- but he needed them to understand as well.

"When you write something like that, I can't believe someone like him could be bad..." Softly, Hifumi said, "I don't wanna believe someone like him could be bad."

Far and few between was it that his voice dipped so quietly, but he’d dropped to a whisper once he'd finished. Unfurling his fingers, he hadn't realized how hard he'd been clenching his hands until the cuts left behind began to sting. His words hanging in the air, the only thing keeping the silence from falling over was the pounding of his heart in his ears.

For better or for worse, Jakurai was always a pillar of calmness and now was no exception; his eyes holding no hint of either acceptance or rejection. Meanwhile, Doppo looked to Jakurai hesitantly -- a sign that he had an answer but was unsure of himself. Jakurai met his gaze and after a moment, they shared a nod.

Jakurai's lips tugged up first, the smile lifting a weight off Hifumi’s chest. "If that's what you believe, Hifumi-kun, then I will have to put my faith in your judgement."

"I guess, but..." Doppo glanced around before looking back at him, worry etched onto his face. "If he does anything to you, you have to tell us, okay?"

"'Course, Doppo-chin." He beamed, taking Doppo's hand and squeezing it. "But like I said, you don't gotta worry about a thing; Yumenon's a good guy through and through!"

Doppo's frown deepened. "If you say so..."

"Hey, now, no frowning! We're out here for fun, aren't we?" he said and tugged the corners of Doppo's lips up. Mood brightening, he spotted a food cart over to the side of the park. "Look, they're selling takoyaki. C'mon!"

Grabbing Jakurai’s hand, Hifumi ran off with the two of them stumbling behind.

"Hifumi, your injury!"

----------------

As all fun days did, their outing ended much too soon, but he and Jakurai of all people knew that Doppo's social battery only lasted so long. With the sun steadily setting, they parted ways with Jakurai at the train station. Though they invited him to stay over for the night, he couldn't since he had work in the morning. Disappointing as it was, Hifumi didn’t dwell on it and focused on dragging Doppo up to their apartment.

Not bothering to change out of his clothes yet, Doppo crashed face first into the couch. Laughter bubbling up, Hifumi jumped in beside him and Doppo scooched over to make room. Their arms tangled together, Doppo let out a deep sigh -- the last of his energy leaving with that breath. The quiet allowing him to mull over everything that happened today, Hifumi remembered Gentaro's texts from this morning and gasped. Squirming about, he patted his pockets.

"What are you getting all antsy for?" came Doppo's muffled voice.

"I gotta tell Yumenon about our day," he said, pulling out his phone. "I invited him to come, but he said he couldn't so he told me to have fun for him."

Doppo snorted. "Honestly, the way you talk about him makes it sound like you're in love with him."

Finger hovering above Gentaro's name, Hifumi froze.

Love was a funny thing. He loved fishing and he loved cooking, but he also loved Doppo and he loved Jakurai. While he loved all of them equally, they weren't exactly the same kind of love. That was to say, there was a lot to love in the world, and he had a lot to give! Try as he might, though, striking up relationships of any kind wasn't exactly his strong suit. Doppo said it was because he didn't watch what he said, but he always thought it better to say things how they were.

And maybe, yeah, that was where everything went wrong when he first met Gentaro. His clothes were weird and he wasn't afraid to point that out, but Hifumi learned to love that part of him -- just like he learned to love all the other things about him. Subdued as he was, his clothes helped him stand out and made him unique. Sometimes he said one thing and did another, but he knew his heart was always in the right place; he could see it in the way he put his all into his work and treated his posse. Most of all, he found it easy to be around him. Their back-and-forth became natural with their bad blood behind them, something he never realized was missing his whole life. From the pretentious writer to the whimsical storyteller, he'd come to care for him and all that he did.

But even if he could love Gentaro, to be in love seemed a grander thought. For all the love he had and gave, Hifumi had never felt that spark or that flutter of the heart; none of the fireworks nor the giddy excitement. At least, not until Gentaro came along. Not until he’d shared his worlds with him, not until he’d seen the smile on his face as he created stories with passion, not until he’d heard his airy laughter that tinkled in his ears.

Hifumi loved Gentaro. And perhaps, he was in love with him, too.

"You're right," Hifumi said softly.

Picking up his head, Doppo let out a flat "What."

"You're right, Doppo-chin." He shook him, voice growing louder. "I'm in love with Yumenon!"

"No, what, I was -- I was just joking." Doppo grabbed his hand, stopping the shaking. "You've only known him for like a week or two, you can't possibly be in love with him!"

"Well... I wanna be in love with him," he said, because if he wasn't in love with him now, then surely one day he would be. Quality over quantity they said, and so time was but a small factor if the moments they shared meant anything. "I wanna go on dates with him, and hold hands with him, and be with him!"

"You already do that stuff with me and Jinguji-san, what makes him any different?"

"This!" Hifumi pointed to his heart. "I love you and Dr. Jakurai, but... Yumenon makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside."

Doppo squinted. "Do you hear yourself?"

"Loud and clear. I wanna be in love with Yumenon!"

"He's our rival."

"The battle season's over, so it doesn't matter, right?"

"You barely know him."

"Then I'll get to know him better."

"You've seen what's happened already --" Doppo jabbed a finger towards Hifumi’s abdomen. "-- the backlash is going to get worse."

"So what? People can do whatever they wanna do."

"You're... really serious about this, aren't you?"

"Sure am!" Hifumi said with no hesitation. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Cautious eyes running over him, Doppo fell silent. A million thoughts ran through Hifumi's mind, anything and everything to convince him about Gentaro, but he knew Doppo needed quiet to think. All he could do now was clutch onto Doppo's hands as he waited for his response.

"If he makes you happy then..." He took a deep breath, another beat passing. "I guess it's fine."

Breaking into a grin, Hifumi cheered and threw his arms around Doppo. He squeezed him as tightly as he could, rocking him back and forth.

"He does, he makes me really happy! I think you'll like him a lot, too, Doppo-chin!" Before Doppo could reply, he gasped and pulled back from the hug. Unlocking his phone, he continued on, "I should let him know how I feel right now! It'll be really fun, we can like go on double dates and --"

"Wait, wait, wait, slow down there." Doppo held him back. "You're going to confess to him through text ? He won't take you seriously like that."

Lips puckering, Hifumi tilted his head. "Really? Then what should I do?"

Doppo's mouth hung open as if to speak, but he stared blankly at him.

"Sorry, I don't really know..." Face scrunching up, his tongue poked out in thought. "Take him out or something? Do something meaningful, I guess."

"Meaningful, meaningful, meaningful..." He mulled over the suggestion, bobbing his head slowly. Doppo had a point, now that he thought about it; their short time together meant they didn't have as many moments with each other -- even less were those that were actually good. Still, one memory in particular stood out: an impromptu day out filled with flowers and fantasies.

"Oh, I know! I'll take him out and get him roses and make it super duper romantic~"

"That... sounds nice, yeah." Doppo nodded, a small smile on his lips. "Good luck, Hifumi. I hope it works out."

He patted his shoulder and flashed a V-sign. "No need to hope, it'll work out for sure! Just you see, Doppo-chin."

Heart flying over the moon, Hifumi turned his attention to his phone screen. Gentaro's name stared back at him, and he grew giddy with all the things he wanted to say to him: “You’re so pretty!” and “You’re amazing!!” and “I love you!!!” among other things right at the tip of his fingers. It took everything in him to keep all of it to himself, but he knew they could say everything they wanted to say once he confessed. The perfect plan in mind, Hifumi wasted no time opening up his chat with Gentaro.

#hypnosis microphone #hypnosis mic #hypmic #hifugen #genhifu #uploading everything 5 years later ups #did tumblr get rid of the line breaks or smth since last i posted bc wtf

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yonaih · 6 years

Text

forfeit - IV [ Connor x Reader ]

posted on ao3 as aIIegro (capital i’s in username) MASTERLIST

This wasn’t good. It wasn’t good. I looked around me, finally letting my eyes settle on Connor.

“How did I not know?” I pleaded, reaching desperately for his arm. “Connor, why can’t I remember anything past yesterday?”

“You can’t remember...anything?” The vague shape of his LED, the only item of colour on his figure, spun rapidly until it started to flash erratically, switching from yellow to a bright, terrifying red. “I…”

He was at a loss for words.

“How do I get out of here?” I cried, using both my hands to desperately shake someone sense into him. “Are we stuck here forever? Let me leave!” I dropped my grip and faced the bleak grey sky. I was stuck. Stuck in my own head, dragging along poor Connor, who probably wanted nothing to do with this shithole.

“Y/N,” he murmured, reaching out to me. “You have to find a way out. This is all in your head.hhhhhead y!&/@|>#% your head.”

What the hell was a biocomponent doing in my head?

“Conn0rrrr, wh@t’s go!ng on?” I frantically backed away from him. Warning signs surrounded us as they scrolled with long lines of gibberish.

“Your system detects me as an intruder. Y!!-u have to find a w@!y out right now or we’ll both be destroyed. Do you see any instructions in your vision? @ny wa!!s you can break?”

I glanced around, finally noticing that there was a rectangle of readable text admits the army of corrupted warning text windows.

“‘Begin self-destruct or submit self to CyberLife,’” I read aloud. I pushed past the hovering, nonsensical boxes until I reached for the words, shocked when I realized I could touch them. Instinctively, I pushed, producing a long crack, splintering the instructions and the invisible wall.

I was angry. I had never felt such raw emotions before. I wasn’t going to let some fucking code decide when I die. It felt good when I punched it. So I hit it again, and again, and again until everything came crashing down in a cacophony of glitched shattering noises. There was another wall. And another. And another. The feeling of triumph morphed into one of panic when I realized that there were so many walls, and time was running out fast. My silhouetted form was beginning to faze into a static, fuzzy mess.

If I failed, I’d self destruct. I would die inside my own mind, all vital functions stopped by my robotic brain. What made it worse was that Connor’s programming was here too. If I died, so would he.

I wasn’t going to let that guilt chase me into the afterlife. Connor had something to live for.

So I fought harder, running only on adrenaline and Connor’s encouragement.

Finally,

Like stepping out from an overly air conditioned office and into the bright, warm sun,

I broke free.

It felt like I was thrown forcefully back into my body. The red signs and code zoomed out of sight and I found myself facing a real, tangible, and dumbstruck Connor. God, it felt so good to be real again, but happiness didn’t last that long.

“I have so many questions, Connor.” I stared at the fiery remains of the apartment building. “What the fuck is going on?”

Every noise around us dulled at that very moment. Connor grasped my arm and pulled me towards his chest, engulfing me in a hug. That brief event was so breathtaking, so fragile. His thirium pump was audible, and I could feel his warmth again. The shrill screeching of birds faded into nothing, and the screams of sirens and the loud cries of anguish from the fleeing people sounded as if they were underwater. Nothing was right, but I leaned into Connor’s chest and cried.

I cried because I glimpsed people being carried out on stretchers. I cried because I nearly died and dragged Connor with me. I sobbed for everything that happened today. I cried because there was nothing I could do about anything.

Throughout it all, he held me tight and reassured me. Connor. He was too good for it all. Why would he touch me? I’m not a human, and I’m not an android. I’m stuck in the middle of being alive and being dead, and he was just okay with it.

I think I hated him for it.

He stepped away for a second to give me his jacket. He pulled me into the car and drove away.

“I’m taking you home,” he said gently, turning down the radio. “Something tells me that that fire wasn’t a coincidence. I’m sure Cyberlife had something to do with it.”

[ YN100, do not digress from your mission. ]

“Why do you think that?” I ignored the warning.

[ YN100, you are digressing from your mission. ]

“They must have set the fire as a trigger.”

[ YN100, follow through with your assigned mission: “Self destruct or submit yourself to CyberLife.” ]

“That’s cruel.”

[ YN100. ]

“I am not surprised. They aren’t as kind as they act in the media. This isn’t something they wouldn’t do if they really needed you to bring yourself back to them.”

[ YN100, I know you can see me, or something. ]

“What am I to them?” I felt nervous. Were the boxes trying to mess with me?

[ YN100, you’re an experiment done 13 years ago. You were released 10 years ago, and I have remained— ]

“I can’t bring up any files on you. You were supposedly dead 15 years ago.”

[ YN100, please do not digress from your missionYN100whatareyoudoingYN100 ]

“Oh,” I mumbled, fiddling with the sleeves of Connor’s jacket. “Why?”

[ YN100DONOTLISTENYOUHAVETODIGRESSFROMYOURMISSION ]

“Well I’m assuming it was an experiment. How you got out is a good question. Do you remember your childhood?”

[ YN100———— your name is ———- please tell me your name ——- ]

“Vaguely. I do remember Gavin Reed…” I was too tired to panic over it. I slumped further into the seat. I felt numb, and the warning signs calling for me were irritating. I kept dismissing them until I fell asleep.

Even in my sleep, I saw the text.

[ YN100, whyareyouawake? ]

[ YN100, this is not me. ]

[ you’re not me. ]

SOFTWARE INST@b!l!!!tii)&/@\*%#||\.,\’sn

> force shutdown?

> yes

> unable to complete task. please submit yourself to cyberlife for further repairs and diagnostics.

> cancel

Audio input detection: Dialogue.

Play?

Yes.

“I’ll be carrying you back now, Y/N.” I could recognize Connor’s voice through the fuzziness of my own head.

I hummed in response.

“Thank you in advance for your cooperation.”

Another hum as a reply.

“Stay calm, I’ll be diagnosing your internal organs and biocomponents. For now, sleep.”

[ he care about you, YN100. don’t forget that. ]

[ digress from your mission. if you don’t you’ll never see him again. ]

> sleep?

> yes.

tags for the bois: @shadows-echoes

#idk #writing #detroit become human writing #detroit connor #detroit rk800 #detroit: bh #detroit become human #detroit become human x reader #connor rk800 x reader #rk800 x reader #connor x reader #dbh x reader #reader insert

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edi-po-english · 2 years

Text

EDI.PO. SKILLS

What happens when a book is not just made up of words? Pt. 3

After a quick reference to pt 1 and pt 2 we begin this third part by immediately showing what we mean by “baroque architecture” of the text.

We had anticipated you in the previous post by a certain Ludovico Colombo, known as Fillìa and it is precisely one of his texts, (the italian edition of Mechanical Sensuality), that we have dealt with. It is a paper text that we scanned to be able to read it on our smartphone. Given the virtuosity we had to work in a technical way, we couldn't insert images rather than text! This is the result:

SCREENSHOT 1

Fillìa (Luigi Colombo), Sensualità. Example of rendering of futurist typographical ideas. Text is not rendered as an image.

Read on to see other similar examples and more.

SCREENSHOT 2

Fillìa (Luigi Colombo) Sensualità.

SCREENSHOT 3

Fillìa (Luigi Colombo) Sensualità. Enlarged text. The text adapts to the screen respecting the proportions, in a harmonious way.

SCREENSHOT 4

Fillìa (Luigi Colombo) Sensualità.

SCREENSHOT 5

Hans Magnus Enzensberger, I miei flop preferiti. E altre idee a disposizione delle generazioni future. Example of theatrical dialogue rendering.

SCREENSHOT 6

Alexandre Kojève, Introduzione alla lettura di Hegel. Examples of plastic braces, adaptable to contain multiple lines.

SCREENSHOT 7

Alexandre Kojève, Introduzione alla lettura di Hegel. Example of image integration in the text (in the book it is on the opposite page).

These are just a few examples, as we will add more.

As you can see, the interventions are structural. In many cases, and we have seen several of ePubs in these condition, the publishing houses solve it by inserting the images! In the case of more particular characters, for example - take the case of Hebrew language, but also Greek, Cyrillic or Arabic - they insert the image of the entire word. This also applies to mathematical formulas and more. This, of course, affects the readability of the text: the images in some cases are grainy, the EPUB is heavy and the application takes a long time to load; and if you go to enlarge the text, the image does not adapt to the zoom, losing harmony. We have always tried to avoid these "annoyances" and we have "invented" these solutions that make everything much lighter, smoother and pleasantly readable.

All this obviously amuses us, we like it, and over time, once we got the hang of it, we decided to turn it into a real job. We also got to do it, albeit occasionally: unfortunately or fortunately. Unfortunately, because we regret not being able to dedicate ourselves to this as much and as we would like, constantly improving; luckily because if the requests had been more assiduous, respecting the time ranges would have been difficult. Our PCs, in fact, although they have been faithful companions for several years now, tend to get tired and slow down, extending the time required for digital re-processing (just think of the ocrization process). We have looked for work but as we have said several times: jobs paid very little that do not allow us to put anything aside as well as take away time and physical and mental energy.

For these reasons we have created EDITORIA POPOLARE and opened a FUNDRAISER.

For now, that's it!

#gofundme #donation #fundraiser #fundraising #financial aid #donate #socialism #social initiative #socialist initiative #epub #book #ereader #digital book #digital library #ebook

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sugasnae · 6 years

Text

Friend Zone - 2

Summary:

You had had a crush on your best friend for as long as you could remember, there was definitely no doubt about that. He never saw you that way and it was best that you came to terms with that. It didn’t help when he got a girlfriend and you were forced to get rid of your feelings. It didn’t help at all.

1 2 3

Genre: Angst

Admin: Nova

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings:

Extremely triggering, mentions of suicide, suicide attempts, mentions of rape, small rape section. Please be aware I don’t want this to be extremely triggering but I will have a part of that and I hope it is still readable to others. I want my stories to be real without sugar coating anything but I will try my best to minimize it if possible.

After hanging out with everyone you sat at the dining table in your apartment. Alone. Jungkook had dropped off Yuna and was going to come back after. For at least an hour you sat by yourself drinking tea.

You were honestly thankful for the time you got to spend alone, it allowed you to think about everything. You realized after some time in your thoughts that being jealous and mad wasn’t going to get you anywhere. You knew Jungkook didn’t feel the same way so why were you going to act childish over something you couldn’t get?

You decided that the best and most adult thing to do would to get over your feelings and support Jungkook the best you could.

Interrupting your thoughts the door opened and in walked Jungkook. You gave him a warm smile and brought your warm cup of tea closer to you.

“Welcome home.”

“Hey Y/n.” Jungkook greeted and took a seat at the dining table across from you. “Can we talk?”

You started to get anxious. You weren’t necessarily nervous about anything but you hated when people made you wait in anticipation for what was to come next. You nodded your head and urged him to continue speaking.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Yuna.” He sighed, a hint of guilt in his voice.

“Kookie don’t be sorry it’s fine, you could have told me whenever you were ready.” You waved off.

“Yeah but I’m more sorry about not telling her about you. You are my best friend after all.”

“Well why didn’t you?” You asked curiously staring down at the dark liquid remaining in your cup.

“I thought she would be jealous or something, or get the wrong idea.” He explained fiddling with his fingers. Your heart ached but you tried pushing the feeling away. You stood up and wrapped your arms around Jungkook’s shoulders resting your head atop of his.

“It’s all fine don’t worry about it. Just promise me one thing.”

“What?”

“You don’t forget about me and tell me ahead of time if she comes over, I’m not into third wheeling.”

Jungkook chuckled, turning around and wrapping his arms around you. “I promise, and I could never forget you Y/n, you’re the best.”

“I know.” You sighed.

The next week carried on as usual. You went to your classes and either came home to study or hung out with Tae and Jimin who had a similar schedule to yours and offered to hang out often. Jungkook usually hung out with you as well but he was spending most of his time with Yuna and you didn’t mind.

That was all until Friday rolled around and the entire group was invited to a party and to your dismay, you had to tag along.

You didn’t mind parties but the effort you had to put in into going was always tiring.

You sat on your living room couch waiting impatiently for Jungkook. To many theories or assumptions that women took longer to get ready it was all a lie when it came to Jungkook. What usually took you 30 minutes to get ready took him and hour and a half.

“Kookie I’m waiting!” You yelled out.

“I’m almost ready!”

You knew he was probably struggling to find a shirt to wear for the important occasion. You felt your clothes were casual yet appropriate. You dressed and a black skirt, a black and white striped tee and a plain black bomber jacket paired with black booties. You felt your outfit also showed your mood.

“Okay okay Y/n, I chose this but i’m not sure if I should just wear a white shirt instead and keep it simple.” You groaned in response looking at him. He wore his timberlands, jeans, a flannel wrapped around his waist with a black shirt and a jacket. It was cute and casual so you didn’t see the problem.

“No that looks fine keep it. Why are you making a big deal on what you wear?” You asked standing up and walking towards him.

“I want to impress Yuna, she’s coming too.” You nodded.

“Cool, is she meeting us or..?”

“We’re gonna pick her up is that alright?” He asked walking towards the front door and grabbing his keys. You and Jungkook usually rode to parties together but you didn’t mind Yuna tagging along, as long as you weren’t the one that had to stay sober.

“That’s fine, are you gonna drink?”

“Nah, not tonight.”

You clapped your hands “Yes, let’s go.”

You two arrived at Yuna’s apartment. You got into the back seat and Jungkook went to bring back Yuna. You waited patiently texting Taehyung back and forth notifying him that you all were on your way and he only responded with impatient replies.

The car door opened and Yuna sat in the passenger seat while Jungkook got into the driver’s seat.

“Hello.” You greeted towards Yuna. Either she didn’t hear you or chose to ignore you because she immediately asked Jungkook, “So who’s party is this?”

You and Jungkook made eye contact in the mirror, you raised a knowingly brow and he only shrugged.

“One of Namjoon’s friends I think, we never really know we just go.” Jungkook replied beginning to drive off. Jungkook and Yuna continued to talk while you zoned out looking at the buildings that passed by on your way. You hadn’t noticed you arrived until the car turned off and Jungkook opened your door because it was the closest. You mumbled a thanks and saw the yuna was still seated and waited for Jungkook to go around and open hers as well. You rolled your eyes, not liking Jungkook was seeming easier than liking her.

“Yuna, this is Y/n you met last week.” Jungkook introduced once you walked around the car towards the couple.

Yuna smiled and you smiled right back before setting off into the house.

The music could be heard from down the street but this was a party neighborhood so you doubted anyone would mind.

You walked into the crowded house, your body clashing with others as you desperately tried to make your way through. Jungkook held Yuna close to him and tried his best to stay close to you as you all tried to maneuver your way through the crowd and towards an empty spot where you could search for the other boys.

Almost out of nowhere your shoulder was roughly grabbed. Your fists were balled ready to strike before you saw Hoseok smiling back at you with a heart shaped smile. You relaxed and let out a sigh of relief.

“You scared the crap out of me!” You yelled out, partly out of exasperation to get your point across, another part because the music was practically shaking the whole house making it hard to hear anyone even if they talked directly in your ear.

“I’m sorry!” Hoseok laughed wiping a nonexistent tear from the corner of his eye. “Come on, everyone is outside.” He motioned his hand towards Jungkook and Yuna to follow him before grabbing your hand interlocking it with his and directing you outside where your group of friends were. Once you all walked outside the music began to feel distant and everyone stood up to meet you all halfway.

“Glad you could make it Y/n it’s been awhile.” Jin hugged you.

“I literally saw you on campus this morning.” You laughed.

“Felt like ages ago.”

“You dork, if you want to see me more then I don’t know why you don’t come over.” You teased.

“Well maybe I will come over more!” Jin mocked and you only laughed playfully pushing him away.

“I want to see Y/n more too!” Namjoon yelled out looking at you in disbelief as if he was shocked he didn’t get an invitation.

“Me too, i’m hurt Y/n.” Yoongi intervened with a pained expression.

“Same here.” Hobi said with a pout.

“I would say ‘me too’ but I see Y/n everyday.” Jimin said smugly.

“Goodness I know i’m a blessing but no need to fight.” You put your hands up. You expected some sort of expression from everyone but they all looked at you blankly making you look stupid. You cleared your throat and rolled your eyes.

“You guys can sleep over tonight if you want.” Everyone erupted in cheers thanking you.

“Ah a group sleepover? Can’t wait we haven’t had on in awhile.” Jungkook jumped in. He caught you by surprise since he hadn’t spoken since you guys arrived.

“I call sleeping with Y/n! She gives the best cuddles.” Tae yelled grabbing you by the shoulders and bringing you into a tight hug as if to prove how cuddly you were.

“Junkookie-ah I have an exam tomorrow I can’t stay over.” Yuna whispered to jungkook but you were close enough to hear over the boys who started fighting over who was sleeping where. You couldn’t help but let out a small giggled at the fact that she thought she was invited. You then mentally scolded yourself for being mean, even if it was in your head.

“Oh, well you can always come over another day.” Jungkook offered awkwardly.

“Well I want to hang out with your friends too.” You could hear her pout and you desperately tried to not get annoyed.

“This is what the party is for, c’mon let’s all go sit down and get a drink.” You thanked Jungkook in your head and followed them along with the rest of the guys to a fire pit that was in the farthest of the backyard and seemed almost closed off by bushes. Everyone took a seat and sat around the slowly growing fire grabbing bottles filled with alcohol.

The rest of the night was filled with laughter from all eight of you. Yuna however, seemed to be upset the whole night glaring at the fire and not talking to anyone. You dismissed this however and joked with the rest of the boys about meaningless things. You drank along with them and started to feel yourself getting a little more than tipsy. This was until Hoseok decided to have a chugging contest and you were determined to win just to see their shocked expressions when you were able to deal with your alcohol better than all of them combined.

“You’re in for a treat Min Yoongi.” You teased Yoongi, your last component. You had beat all five other boys who sulked in their chairs staring at you two. This excluded Jungkook who was going to drive everyone home later anyways.

“You think you can beat me?” He challenged with a smirk.

“I know I can beat you.” You smirked. You started to lose your sanity that would most likely tell you that you were done drinking for the night. Yoongi became two then back to one and you knew for sure you were drunk.

“Go!” Namjoon laughed and you both opened your beer bottles chugging as fast as you could. Was this dangerous to you? Yes. Everyone was too drunk to care and having too much fun to say anything. For a split second you felt everything shut down and turn back on causing you to choke on the alcohol. You spit it out in front of you violently coughing hearing Yoongi yelling in victory.

“Oh shit.” Jungkook whispered and ran up to you rubbing you back almost in reassurance.

“Fuck.” You croaked out, your throat hurting you. Jin walked up and handed you a water bottle with a light smile on his face. You quickly took the water and chugged it down feeling the cold substance sooth your dry throat.

“Hey do you not know by now you should probably stop chugging?” Jungkook scolded. You waved him off and sighed in relief when you could breathe again.

“I’m fine, yah.” Everyone started to burst out in laughter soon after you were okay.

“Not so tough are you, Y/n?” Taehyung raised a brow and laughed.

“Oh shut up.”

“Aish, let’s head out, I want to go to Y/n’s”

You didn't even remember how you got home. Suddenly you were extremely drowsy and leaning against Hoseok as everyone was too concerned with their own conversations.

“Oh we’re home?” You spoke up and looked at everyone who either sat on the floor or on the couch. You sat in between Hoseok and Yoongi while Namjoon and Jungkook sat on the floor in front of you. Jimin Taehyung and Jin walked in with food looking like they were getting ready for a buffet. You felt queasy and looked away.

“Yeah you were passed out for awhile. You should really stop trying to beat everyone at that chugging game.” Jungkook laughed.

“I wanted to win.” You slurred.

“Let’s head to bed, I’m going to pass out soon.” Jimin sighed, standing up and stretching.

“What about the food?” Tae asked shocked. You giggled and threw your head back against the couch.

“Oh,” Jimin looked down and waved off everyone. “But i’m tired.”

“C’mon chim.” You stood up and motioned him over to you. He walked over and slung his arm over your shoulder. “The rest of you guys can figure out who’s sleeping in the guest bedroom.” The boys broke out into an argument, fighting over who was going to bunk in the only extra comfortable bed we had. Jimin led you into your own room and closed the door behind you both. You jumped into you large bed and snuggled into the pillows letting out a sigh of relief.

“Let’s get your jacket off and under the covers.” Jimin pulled at the jacket that hugged your body and was beginning to make you feel slightly uncomfortable. Once the jacket was off you slipped under the covers and sighed once more.

“Do you want to get into some pajamas?” He asked sitting on the bed beside you.

“No, I’m too tired.”

“Y/n?”

“Hm?”

“You didn’t seem that uncomfortable with Yuna and Jungkook today, is everything alright?”

“Well it was mostly because I was drunk, but I think I’m finally getting over him.” You sighed. “Now come here I’m cold.”

Jimin chuckled and got under the covers with you. He brought your body closer to his and rested his head in the crook of your neck.

“That’s good. I’m proud of you.”

“I’m proud of me too.” You drifted off to sleep with Jungkook on your mind.

A/n: Okay so I know this chapter was kind of boring but bear with me! I wanted to get the story going before I added all the glory angst. The next chapter will contain angst and will be up soon!

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alexanderessex3dstoryart · 3 years

Text

Motion Graphics - Changes to Well-Being Gif and the Diversity GIF

During Christmas break, I thought I decide to return back to the well-being GIF after being poorly received by my tutorial group and hopefully make it so it’s much better and more readable to my group. Additionally, I ended up doing a few tiny adjustments to my Diversity GIF to refine it just a bit more.

In making better changes with the GIF, I thought I would mostly start from the ground up again as I kept assets like the boy and shadow figures I made as I could implement them into this new GIF. For the changes I did, the layout is completely changed up as the boy is much more centered in the middle of the screen with eye bags beneath his eyes to show he’s more tired than before which also travel wherever his eyes go. In addition to the layout, a new idea/story has been set up as the boy still looks side to side in sleepiness but just about sees a shadow figure in the corner of his eye before that shadow figure vanishes. This keeps happening until a large array of shadow-y figures appear right behind him to see his surroundings. I think in terms of improvements and things I liked, the ending shot of the shadow figures all gather behind him looks very neutral similar to real sleep deprivation happens with figures like these as they come to attack you just more so kinda creep up on you. I definitely think the laughing spike mouth was definitely a good choice to get rid of to making the scene feel a lot more accurate. As well as this, this story story in the GIF is still retained as the shadow figures move because of his movements as the shadow figures are a figment of your animation.

Whilst i do like this GIF a lot and maybe might be better than the previous iteration, I still think the previous GIF is very valid for what it’s trying to say and how each element of the GIF subtlety nods to the idea of being sleep deprived. Never the less, I still really love this GIF a lot from how seamless it is to watch as it definitively has a better repeatability to it.

youtube

As well as the well-being GIF, I thought I have a quick revisit to the diversity GIF to refine a couple of details. These were lowering the text to be easier to read so you wouldn't miss it and extra refinement to the tongue to the point it looks really smooth to watch now.

youtube

UPDATE:

In a recent tutorial I had with my group and Jon, we were all sharing work we would like to be group accessed which I felt would be the perfect opportunity to show my most recent GIF. Everyone said that this was a huge step up in quality over the other GIF (even though I really like that one) as it was much more readable as sleep deprived and sleep deprivation. There were a couple of improvements I was suggested to do like maybe an extra emphasis on the animation on the face. But I felt one, that change would kind of defeat the purpose of a sleep deprived character if he was too energetic and two, I unfortunately didn’t have enough time to go back to the GIF and work on ti as I was already busy with another projects but I would definitely would of love to expand upon it.

#MotionGraphicsBA2a

0 notes

charger-batteries · 3 years

Text

Apple iPhone 12 Pro Max Review

2020 is an anxious year. If that anxiety manifests for you in worrying that your smartphone will run out of charge, you might want to consider upgrading to the iPhone 12 Pro Max ($1,099 and up), a giant serving platter of a handset with the longest battery life of any iPhone, ever. It's also the largest, heaviest iPhone to date, and one of the most expensive, which makes it hard to recommend over our Editors' Choice award winners, the iPhone 12 mini ($699 and up) and the iPhone 12 Pro ($999 and up).

Before I continue, I should note that we also have reviews of the aforementioned iPhone 12 mini and iPhone 12 Pro, as well the iPhone 12 ($799 and up). These phones are comparable in many respects—with similar screen technologies, the same processor, and iOS 14—so here I'll focus on how the Pro Max is different from its siblings. If one of your questions about the iPhone experience isn't answered below, see our main iPhone 12 review.

It's a Big 'Un

Apple has had big phones for several years now, but the 12 Pro Max is even bigger. At 6.33 by 3.07 by 0.29 inches (HWD) and 8.03 ounces, it's slightly taller and heavier than the iPhone 11 Pro Max (6.22 by 3.06 by 0.32 inches, 7.97 ounces), and noticeably bigger and heavier than the iPhone XS Max (6.2 by 3.05 by 0.3 inches, 7.34 ounces). Like the 12 Pro, the Pro Max comes in your choice of dark blue, gold, gray, or silver, with a matte back and a shiny metal band around the edge.

The 12 Pro Max isn't the biggest popular flagship on the market, but it might be the heaviest. For starters, it's a whole 3.2 ounces heavier than the iPhone 12 mini. The Samsung Galaxy Note 20 Ultra is taller at 6.49 by 3.04 by 0.32 inches, but lighter at 7.34 ounces. That said, the Note 20 Ultra has real differentiators from Samsung's other phones in terms of stylus and camera capabilities. The Pro Max just isn't far enough from the 12 Pro in terms of power to justify the chonk.

One thing you get from the grand size is immediately evident: a 6.7-inch OLED screen. It's noticeably larger than the display on the other iPhones, and slightly brighter than the one on the iPhone 12 and 12 mini, at 800 maximum nits versus 625 for the lower-cost devices. All of the phones are quite usable in sunlight.

I use the Galaxy Note 20 Ultra as my primary work camera, as well as to test 5G bandwidth, so I've had my hands on a big phone a lot recently. Big phones are great for tired eyes and awful for tired hands. Text and icons on the 12 Pro Max's screen can be bigger than on other iPhones, or they can be the same size and give you added real estate. The phone's 2,778-by-1,284 resolution has over 200 vertical pixels more than the iPhone 12 and 12 Pro, which makes for an additional readable headline on NYTimes.com, or a few more lines of a PDF.

But I just can't use phones like this with one hand. My thumb doesn't reach across the screen, no matter how I position the phone. This creates a considerable problem when trying to take pictures with one hand if I want to use tap-to-focus, because there's just no way to reach the whole screen to tap. The phone fills up the pocket of my jeans entirely, and it's really heavy. It feels like a powerful tool, to be sure, but it doesn't feel like a handheld device.

Big Phone, Big Sound, Big Battery

The Pro Max has the same Apple A14 processor, running at 3GHz, as the other iPhone 12 models. The Pro and Pro Max have 6GB of RAM; the 12 and 12 mini have 4GB. The Pro models come in 128GB, 256GB, and 512GB storage capacities, while the lower-cost phones come in 64GB, 128GB, and 256GB levels.

The phone scores almost exactly the same on the Geekbench benchmark as the other iPhone 12 series phones, with a single-core score of 1,600 and a multi-core score of 4,099. It also scores much like the iPhone 12 and 12 Pro on most graphics benchmarks. The Pro Max did better than the other iPhones on Basemark Web, with a score of 656 compared with 600 to 602 for the other models, possibly reflecting its bigger canvas. It did a little worse on the GFXBench Car Chase onscreen benchmark, at 44fps versus 52–56fps for the other models, reflecting that it's harder to fill the bigger canvas.

In terms of connectivity, the Pro Max is on par with the other iPhone models. It can handle any form of 4G or 5G currently available in the US and Canada. Like the other models, it has dual-SIM capabilities with one SIM being an eSIM, so you can load a second subscription or number while traveling.

Tested with a very weak 5GHz Wi-Fi signal, the Pro Max didn't do any better than the iPhone 12 or 12 Pro. A bigger phone in this case doesn't mean better antennas; it just means better battery life.

It does mean slightly better speakers, though. I don't have a decibel meter on hand, but the iPhone 12 Pro Max feels like it has slightly bigger sound than the 12 Pro does. The iPhone 12 series in general all have terrific speakers for phones; you're not going to get a lot of bass, but they're relatively rich on the treble.

The Pro Max's greatest strength and major sales point is its battery life. At 3,687mAh, the 12 Pro Max's battery is actually a little smaller than the 11 Pro Max's, but the phone gets much longer battery test times because of more efficient hardware and software.

I primarily compared it with the other iPhone 12 models. Using our video rundown test, I got 10 hours, 37 minutes on the iPhone 12 mini; 12 hours, 24 minutes on the iPhone 12; 12 hours, 22 minutes on the 12 Pro; and a whopping 15 hours, 29 minutes on the iPhone 12 Pro Max. That's a major upgrade.

Looking at battery usage in the background, I let each phone sit for 14 hours overnight. The Pro Max lost 6% of its charge while the Pro lost 8% and the Mini lost 9%. (While I ran this test, I was doing something else with the iPhone 12, but the standard 12 and 12 Pro have the same screen and battery sizes, so I'd expect them to have similar results.) That's an advantage for anyone who forgets to plug their phone in.

Like all the other phones in the series, the iPhone 12 Pro Max doesn't come with a charger. Here's how to charge your iPhone 12.

High-End Cameras and Pro Photo Features

On paper, the Pro Max's camera has some advantages over all the other iPhone 12 cameras. The Pro Max has three rear lenses: a 12-megapixel, f/1.6 main camera; a 12-megapixel, f/2.4 ultrawide camera; and a 12-megapixel, f/2.2 2.5x zoom lens. That's a greater zoom than the iPhone 12 Pro's 2x sensor, although it collects a little less light (the 12 Pro is f/2.0). The front-facing 12-megapixel camera is the same on all the iPhone 12 models.

The Pro and Pro Max support bokeh Portrait mode at night; the mini and 12 do not. The Pro Max is the only phone in the lineup with sensor-shift image stabilization, which moves the sensor when the phone jerks or is bumped. Combined with the phone's LiDAR sensor (which is also on the Pro), that's supposed to deliver superior night shots.

Perhaps I'm just not enough of a pro photographer for the iPhone 12 Pro Max, but aside from the nominal increase in zoom, I just don't see any advantage of the Max over the smaller and less expensive iPhone 12 Pro in the photos I took.

Setting aside zoom, I see two advantages of either Pro phone over the less expensive 12 and the mini: the Night mode with bokeh, and the LiDAR-aided focus lock, which helped generally in close-up shots and in Portrait-mode shots of non-human objects such as a mug and an apple. (I didn't see any difference between the Pro and non-Pro phones in daylight, portrait-mode shots of humans.)

Shots taken with the Pro Max in low light, at f/1.6, look the same as shots taken with the iPhone 12 or even the mini. Night mode shots are also hard to tell apart.

The iPhone Pro line has some super-high-level camera features that the lower-cost iPhones don't, specifically ProRAW mode and Dolby Vision video capture at very high resolutions and frame rates. And the iPhone 12 Pro Max's large battery make it a good daylong companion if you're putting it on a tripod and shooting a ton of 4K video. I don't think of that as a tremendously common use for iPhone owners, though, putting the Pro Max's camera improvements at the level of niche appeal.

To give a counterexample of when a big, expensive phone does have a meaningful camera improvement, look back at the Samsung Galaxy Note 20 Ultra. There, a 5x optical zoom camera, not available on the S20 or S20+, gives you an entirely new perspective on the world, and the autofocus is considerably improved over the lower-priced phones.

To some extent, this is a win for Apple: I'm saying that the cameras on the $699 iPhone 12 mini are so good that the $1,099 iPhone 12 Pro Max isn't that much of a step up. But this doesn't help sell Pro Maxes.

Do You Need to Go Max?

I come to this review with a strong bias. If you've been reading my phone reviews for the past 15 years, first of all, thank you, and second of all, you know I've never been a fan of very large phones. I like my phones to be usable one-handed, out in the world, while my other hand is holding a child's hand or a shopping bag. For an exceedingly large, super-expensive phone to get my pick, it really needs to deliver groundbreaking features, like the Samsung Galaxy Note 20 Ultra does with its stylus and 5x zoom camera.

The iPhone 12 Pro Max doesn't get there for me. It costs $100 more than the iPhone 12 Pro, and it's less portable and easy to hold. Yes, it has very long battery life, but for the same price you can get an iPhone that actually fits in your hand and a supplementary battery to keep in your bag or your car. I find a stronger argument for the Pro Max for people who have very large hands and fingers, or people who have visual issues and find larger text and icons more usable. There's nothing wrong with the iPhone 12 Pro Max; it's just not the iPhone 12 with the broadest appeal.

Of this year's four new iPhones, I recommend the iPhone 12 mini (which costs $400 less than this phone) as the best overall value, and the iPhone 12 Pro for people who see the 2x zoom camera as a must. But if battery anxiety leads you to this half-pound phone, do whatever helps you get through this very stressful year.

0 notes

donaldkharris20-blog · 4 years

Text

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0 notes

almasolaar · 4 years

Text

TrafficCloud Software Review + Demo

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Every platform has its definitely own specifications and after that you ought to customize your TrafficCloud material as necessary. leaving one word on the TrafficCloud parentage can look weird. Unless youre No Name.!

Right here are a couple of tips to remember past including text in pictures:

Three-way check spelling and grammar. Not definite what that indicates? Youve obtained nothing to lose!

Separate a photo into components (rasterbate it) and plus upload it as a slide carousel. Yes, this is the gift of Traffic in the digital world.

Get conclusive release traffic from Red-hot Twitter, LinkedIn & Blogger.

The publication should always boost- not obscure- your innovative. Unless you upload in threes.

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Completely newbie-friendly Social broadcast Creator to create/edit ultra-engaging visuals in minutes.

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Check your analytics to see what gadgets you audience usages.

Not sufficient way of being for your material? Facebook offers a text-to-image ratio checker for those interested.

100% newbie-friendly. next you pick TrafficCloud, your satisfaction is assured.

A few social media image sizing hacks:

Want to allocation a straight describe in a Tale? It depends, as well as there are exemptions.

As competently as pull off not neglect aspect ratio.

Watch out for orphan words.

If you prepare to create use of text as an overlay, ensure the visual leaves heavens for it.

Get detailed analytics reports - know what works and what not. -TrafficCloud Review

TrafficCloud is an avant-garde software program that solves major traffic troubles by driving 100% free viral traffic from 6 various social media giants -, Twitter, LinkedIn, Pinterest, Tumblr, Imgur & Blogger.

Constantly go for the highest realizable image top quality.

Stimulate text to make it fix out.

Text in visuals ought to each time be bold, readable, straightforward, as well as concise. According to WCAG, theyre harder to read.

Avoid environment-friendly as with ease as red or blue and as well as yellowish-brown colour combinations.

With TrafficCloud - Agency Rights You Can Easily make 6-Figure income Per Month By Selling Traffic services To Your Clients!

Introducing TrafficCloud -TrafficCloud Review

Vendor: Eric Holmlund et alia

Product: TrafficCloud

Launch Day: 2020-May-02

Launch Time: 09:00 EDT

Front-End Price: $27-$37

One of the largest criminal endeavors you can dedicate in imitation of sharing visuals on social media is utilizing the incorrect size.

Lays presses the grids boundaries following one big photo uploaded across numerous squares. Are you tired to use fused expensive ways to grab the visitors to your site?

It permits users to create or edit unrestricted messages from its big amassing of aesthetic possessions (images, quotes, GIFs), makes them click-able by installing your connections as competently as sharing them throughout all six social networking platforms - later than just a couple of clicks.

Be tasteful next text -TrafficCloud Review

Whether TrafficCloud creates quote images, elegant typography, or create use of text overlays, less is all the time a lot more taking into consideration it comes to word matter. fasten till the stop of this review to find the supplementary and COUPONS that will be in back up if you modify your mind. stimulate it or rasterbate it.com/trafficcloud-review/

Specific niche: Software application

What Is TrafficCloud? The traffic drove towards your site involves purchasing products which will create your situation grows in a unquestionably curt time.

FEETs illustrators work on Twitters facet ratio taking into consideration a computer animation.

Stories as capably as various new vertical content display screen in a rotate pretentiousness depending on the gadget brute made use of. What Are You Waiting on?

Create 'set and forget' traffic streams at the touch of a button.

It automatically creates startling VISUAL posts that GRAB attention and ENGAGE viewers.!

Advanced Automation using keywords to make everything simple for you. That includes pixels as capably as resolution.

Cloud-based, use anywhere in the world, without installing anything.

Pictures past the incorrect facet proportion or shortened resolutions can be stretched, chopped, as without difficulty as crunched out of proportion- all one of which shows atrociously on your brand. Some platforms auto-crop describe sneak peeks based upon element proportion.

Embed URLs To Your Visuals Posts In Seconds to drive 100% forgive viral traffic to your website or offers.

By now you must have known that TrafficCloud generates real traffic through social media taking into consideration Twitter, LinkedIn, and many others.

Create interesting Visuals In short Time. try It today as with ease as get The Adhering to other come up with the money for Now!

Loaded in imitation of Agency License to set you taking place for six-figure income per month.

Internet Marketers

Affiliates Marketers

Entrepreneurs

Website Owners

Bloggers

Advertisers

Offline/Local Businesses

Podcasters

Social Media Marketers

Ecommerce hoard Owners

Are you not satisfied afterward your limited spectators that are affecting the deposit of your business?

The fastest mannerism to scale-up your online earnings, without any boring and tedious work. That you can say FOR free - upon combined social platforms!

Cloud-Based Software That let You ration definite read out Instantly Across Twitter, Linkedin & Pinterest (Front stop - S27 or $37).

Preview how Instagram will categorically chop a vertical image on your grid by checking out the filter thumbnails prior to you publish.

Do not put all critical in the top and furthermore condensed 250-310 pixels. Should I Invest Today? Why? No prior experience required. manufacture a history or utilize a theme therefore it does not see tiny and in addition to depressing. If theres a pattern, size appropriately. Remember, if you realize this, future posts can mess in the works things up. Or, you might magnetism a manager take steps similar to this. give a positive response a look at the instances listed below. In TrafficCloudPro (upgrade at extra $37 or $47) allow you part to extra 3 platform - Tumblr, Imgur & Blogger. If you are not utterly satisfied next it for any type of factor within the first one month, youre ascribed to a full refund- no ask asked. TrafficCloud consists of a 30-day Cash help Guarantee Plan.

Maintain stock size short. choose from a colossal gathering of 2 Billion+ viral images, 1200+ quotes and 20K+ GIFs for your traffic magnets.

Hence addressing your major website traffic concerns without

Paying for ads

Painfully slow-moving Search Engine Optimization

Employing a social networks commissioner or

Doing all the directory perform yourself

TrafficCloud assistance -TrafficCloud Review

Get unrestricted pardon web traffic from Red-hot Twitter, LinkedIn, Pinterest, Tumblr, Imgur & Blog writer

User-friendly Social make known Developer to create/edit ultra-engaging visuals in mins

Choose from the large increase of 4 Billion+ viral pictures, 1200+ viral quotes and in addition to 20K+ GIFs for your web traffic magnets

Installed friends and drive 100% forgive viral traffic to your website or offers in 5 mins level

Share unrestricted name promptly across socials media or schedule to share highly developed to get website traffic anytime you want

Get collect analytics reports - know what jobs as capably as what not

Tested and then Proven Product Supplies Surefire Results

100% Newbie-Friendly, Absolutely No Tech-Skills required

Step-by-step training as competently as 24 * 7 Consumer suggestion Schedule

Final thought -TrafficCloud Review

BuyNow

Its A Lot. Weve constructed a social network photo dimension overview to incite you.

Together past quick sharing, you can additionally arrange your articles to upload anytime in the later as with ease as we have actually detailed analytics feature to meet the expense of you clear stats of sort and remarks you are receiving post-wise. well if you are facing these problems, TrafficCloud may be the best unusual for you. make clear there suffices comparison in in the midst of the text and background in view of that that its legible. If its forlorn specifying the obvious or defining the aesthetic, you complete not require it.

youtube

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0 notes

frompariswithfilm · 4 years

Text

TrafficCloud Review + Demo

TrafficCloud Review and Bonuses + Demo

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urukyra · 4 years

Text

Min’atoa Station Post Mortem

Min’atoa Station, my 6-month capstone project for my Game Development course at Yoobee Colleges, in which I fall down a rabbit hole, drown in a pool of tears and learn to make magic. Or, less poetically, scope too big, lose and remake multiple assets multiple times, and launch a game that falls well short of my goal - yet shows a glimpse of a potentially amazing experience.

My aim was a linear 3D narrative game - think Gone Home in a Myst type setting with a terrorist theme.. I reckon I got halfway, so there’s only 90% left to go.

Team vs Solo

Tutors urged us to push our boundaries, and in my Goodest Boi team I stretched my wings into new areas and thrived. In other teams (whether real or not) I’d felt held back by low expectations. My mantra was ‘play big’. I love to learn, and that means embracing looking stupid, stumbling before you can walk. I chose a solo project, so I’d be propelled to shine, and I was pleased I did. The gasps of surprise from the class even at my prototype were validating. A teacher once said more learners rust out than burn out - having a tutor that believed in me created its own empowerment magic.

New Idea vs Darling

I was torn between:

A new game, designed for addictive game-play loops, replayability, marketing hooks, commercial

Min’atoa - unknown market, unproven gameplay, not replayable, huge scope, high risk.

The gamedev mantra “kill your darlings” echoed in my head. I brainstormed great alternatives that I loved. And yet, YOLO, carpe diem. I left a ‘safe’ life doing what I was told for this. The window was open - now or never. I’d never “finish” Min’atoa left to my own devices. It needed a structure for existence - the force-field of deadlines, accountability, of expert help. I knew it was too big, so I ‘maimed’ my darling - reduce scope, use existing assets, basic textures, no puzzles - just a story game. That seemed do-able (cue evil laughter). So I talked myself into ‘story-only-Min’atoa.’ Call me crazy, but I don’t regret it.

Tools

I got overwhelmed.comparing narrative tools: Inkle, Twine, Yarnspinner, Ren’Py, Ink. Prairie, Fungus, Novel-software, Scrivener. My author friend Peter cut through my angst by wryly observing that Shakespeare used a quill pen. For my Myst-type story - linear, non-branching, no dialogue - Google docs was fine!

Writers Block

Although I had a plot, I couldn’t start. Tutor Matt P got me to put story beats in linear time order, then rearrange them into the order the story needed. Write short ‘memory joggers’ of each plot movement onto Post-It notes. This simple process broke the writer’s block.

Later, I found myself blocked again, and dedicated an entire week turning these brief notes into strings of story.

Story gating

Player autonomy is a key feature of game design. In game writing, each story elements has to stand on its own in whatever order players come across them, and the plot still has to make sense. So story games build artificial ‘gates’ to order key story elements (eg in locked rooms), to achieve greater dramatic tension and plot cohesion,

I fit the plot into the game’s natural gates: portal, balcony, room, and controller balcony, and Arrivals (and later,,Departures) desk drawers; Doors opened with buttons, and crystal docks.. I felt clever making drawer locks, and hiding keys and crystals. The gates were not infallible, but ‘good enough’ in playtesting.

The downside was, the story game became a puzzle game. It changed how players played, from a slow pace that encouraged reading, to active, testing interactable objects to see what they did. In retrospect, i wish I’d deliberately designed for the slower game feel of Gone Home, where players interact with passive objects whose function was to add atmosphere.

Story Element Workflow

There were 25 notices and 21 letters, each with two gameObjects - players click on a 3D object in the scene, to bring up UI with its matching 2D readable. This meant 92 assets whose materials change when I edit their words. A simple workflow was essential.

Playtesters noted the 25 notices were easily legible; that removed 25 UI assets.

For the 21 letters, I felt clever about my idea of stationery. I made stationery (paper, design and font) for each character (Tris, S’tiel, Priestess and Council). Each in-game letter automatically populated its UI stationery with a text string. Instead of 21 UI assets, I only needed four.

I was smug about this at first - I’d polish text; and the UI automatically updated. But for beta, for the first time I had to have textures on all 46 3D documents. It was an awful workflow. I’d play through, click on each letter or notice, bring up UI stationery with its unique string, snip it, create 46 materials from the snips, and tile these to fit each gameObject.

It was so tedious to change materials, it created a mental barrier to improving the text, even if it was way too long, or made me cringe. I deleted eight noticeboard posters that were too embarrassing. I left “Lorem Ipsum” text on most letters. I wish I’d fixed these. I did find ways to automate this process, but events overtook (see refactoring section) so I didn’t get time to code this.

Localisation

The more words, the more difficult and expensive is localisation, reducing the potential market, if I were doing it again, I would aim to

reduce word count dramatically, and use more images

have illegible 3D textures (see for example Zelda, Breath of the Wild) or develop an alien text / symbols

retain the process of populating 2D UI assets with strings, so that it would be easy to populate strings in different languages.

Prioritise Your Intuition

Sam Fleury, Runaway Play gave an NZGDC talk on prioritising your intuition to reduce burnout and improve personal effectiveness. He noted that our tendency to try to ‘push through’ a wall was often driven by feeling unworthy. It often led to bad code (or other work) that had to be redone.

When I noticed my brain clearly saw the chains of logic, I coded quickly and cleanly When my ‘programming mind’ lost it’s edge, went ‘fuzzy’, if I continued to push I wrote bad code, and felt burnt out. I found it took an active decision to resist the ‘imposter syndrome’ urge to push on. I’d step back, take a rest, or pivot to a task that used another part of the brain (art or story).

I took note of sunshine, various foods, coffee and rest affected my focus and set up the right environment. Dancing barefoot on the grass is great therapy.

More often than not, when I came back I’d see a bigger picture, and pivot to a different priority, or to a fresh, cleaner approach. I’d never pivot when I was nose to the grindstone.

I heartily recommend this practice. It was vital for a solo dev on a big scope game. Pacing myself was not costly, I wrote better code in less time with less stress. And it might seem obvious, but burnt out, tired devs don’t make games that are fun, intriguing, and delightful,

Attributions

I wanted assets that left the option open to allow commercial use. This hugely limited choice for the game’s many imported assets: ~20 sound effects, music, five fonts, five paper textures and plugins, .

I recommend designing a good filing system for attributions. I did record them as I went, but not in one place. Finding them months later cost time I’d rather spend on my game.

Brian and I made most of the images and icons from scratch. But right at the end I realised an image used fan art I’d made for #Myst25 from Riven, a game by Cyan Worlds, Commercial use violated their very generous terms for fan art.

I wrote to Cyan, saying I’d remove it, but it’d be a lovely Easter egg for Myst fans. Hannah Gamiel, Director of Development, Cyan Inc immediately wrote back to give permission to use it, which was typical of the lovely Cyan approach to their fans.

Refactoring

We’d planned for Brian being away for 3 months OE, but didn’t factor in a month to reinstate his melted server and hospital with pneumonia. Since Yoobee had only Unity 2018, I’d coded the prototype, Sabotage, from scratch in 3 weeks.

Once Yoobee got Unity 2019, I reverted to Min’atoa with Brian’s code, which was robust and elegantly effective, But since we were both new to Unity it used unusual approaches - event signals, listeners via parented assets, and master controllers with enums. After painfully watching me struggle, my tutor Woody spelt out the stark choice: strip out Brian’s code and he’d help me rebuild it, or struggle on alone.

I chose to strip it out. I really wanted to step up at coding, and Woody was brilliant at it. Although Min’atoa would not be finished to the level I wanted in other areas, I could do the writing and art later.

Deleting two years of scripts left 416 fatal errors; removing ‘missing scripts’ from assets took hours. It would be an enormous task to rebuild. I brutally trimmed my asset list of Brian’s features (a fully functional inventory, and putting items down). and features I’d planned (writing, art, animations, codes and puzzles).

Then I got intensive tutoring from Woody. I learned:

keep it simple - add complexity only as required

use prefabs - get one asset completely right, then 20 others work

get the essentials (story gates) working - doors, drawers, lifts and locks. ..

Within a month, most of the functions worked again. My crowning achievement was replacing Brian’s inventory with a scroll-selectable list that appears on hover (over a lock that takes multiple items) and shows what carried items fit in.

I was also pleased to get different endings working (including one that pivots the whole scene). I’ll never know what Min’atoa would be if I’d made the other decision, but I do know I would not have learned as much as I did.

The biggest code drawback was no inventory for the 21 letters,they’re just lost . The player can’t refer back to any letter they’d collected. Woody had shown me how to do it, but I spent the remaining time fixing bugs I had, and improving art and gameplay. This is such a major drawback that if I get time, I’d like to issue a patch for it, and I (think) I now know enough to do it. .

Result

I launched a game that I have mixed feelings about. On one hand, I have another game in my public itch.io portfolio. Overall, for pretty much a solo game made in a limited time, it showcases my capabilities and adds to my credibility as a game developer.

On the other hand, I wish it were more fun, that the story was better, the puzzles more difficult, the game design was more complete. The main failing with the game was the story. I have so much to learn and I plan to fully engage with expert writing mentors next year to learn to

create empathy and connection with the main characters

reveal through what’s not said, rather than tell

reduce word count (strict 140 character limit per item)

use environmental storytelling.

Given the need to limit scope, I only included very basic puzzles, that were not at the level of complexity or engagement of good competitors, like Aporia or Eastshade. Brian and I had designed more complex puzzles, but specifically removed those for scope reasons. If I were to do it again, I would prioritise adding to the puzzle component in simple ways such as:

embed hidden clues, codes and hints

add images, sketches and drawings .

Not having clues to choose different endings is a major omission. For much of the development, I placed puzzle items to make life easy for me, rather than for the player’s satisfaction, The player finds them in obvious places, one after the other repetitively, instead of having to use deductive reasoning.

I would put more time into thinking about how to make it fun for the player to discover hidden items, work out lore-logical places for them, and hint at their location rather than make it so obvious.

Conclusion

There are definitely things I want to improve in Min’atoa Station, but for now, the game is out ‘as is’.

Next time I’d invest time early to “find the fun”. Find the fun in the story, puzzles, and gameplay from the player’s perspective as early as possible and build from a solid base of a proven enjoyable gameplay experience.

At the end, my measure is not even the game. but instead what I have learned. I'm a person with new skills. Looking back my progress seems humbling and miraculous. In 2017, I first clumsily opened Photoshop, my first ever digital tool. In 2019, I made Min’atoa Station, a credible 3D game. Without diminishing Brian’s enormous contribution, or that of my tutors, it was ‘my game’. I designed the world, characters, story, gameplay, modeled and textured 3D assets, 2D assets, the menus, animations, lighting, audio, did the voice acting, used many plugins and more..I ended up coding everything, I listened and learnt, I asked for help and got lots, I struggled and fought and.. Lo.

As I reflect on the end of my time at Yoobee, my journey as a game developer has been, and I hope will continue to be, intense and exhilarating. To me, it’s been an incredible privilege to learn to make worlds from my imagination come to life.

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