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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

Text

tuxedo, m | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader, mentions of previous jungkook x reader

summary: Your cat turns into a man. No, not, your cat was always a man and turned back into a man. Your actual cat turns into an actual man and neither you or your cat (man? cat-man?) have any idea why he's human now. Also, he's naked, so that’s a problem. Also, he’s kind of attractive. Yikes.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, mentions of the coronavirus pandemic; possibly full-on crack; Yoongi still thinks he’s a cat; mentions of smut (fem reader, m-receiving oral (choking on a dick, but not in a sexy way), doggy, spanking, wall-fucking, unintentional??? voyeurism); non-idol!AU - cat!Yoongi x human!reader; ft slightly cocky Jeon Jungkook and you being mad horny for him, what’s new; breaking of the fourth wall; are YOU a furry? you decide

an anon asked for cat hybrid Yoongi, although instead this is some voodoo witch doctor shit, whoops yes, I do reference BT21, Bob Ross, the lady-pointing-to-the-cat-accusingly meme, list goes on... and there is a cameo of 2021 Seasons Greetings Kim Taehyung and Park Jimin XD

Your lungs were being crushed.

You were bundled in your duvet, wrapped like a mint-colored burrito, on your back, head nestled comfortably in your memory foam pillow. Warm, cozy, snuggly. All things considered, a comfortable position. So comfortable that you were blessedly asleep for many hours until your lungs started getting crushed.

You cracked one eye open.

A giant tuxedo fluffball was causing this slow and painful death.

“Get off.”

You glared with slitted eyes, voice cracking from sleep. The fluffball did not move. Velvety, pointed black ears flicked back and forth. The little pink nostrils flared a bit, breathing evenly and contentedly. At least one of you was. You grunted in irritation. The minty-green eyes opened, black slits for pupils.

“I’m going to die.”

Your cat meowed in your face.

“Shut the fuck up. Get off.”

He yawned.

You narrowed your eyes and lips into lines. Stared at your insufferable, not-so-subtle tuxedo cat that was killing his owner. How long had he and his seven-kilogram ass been sitting on your tits? Too long because your sternum was already aching. You rolled over and he gave you a disgruntled meow as he tumbled off. You pulled your arms out and gave him a soft scratch behind his ears before reaching around to his white belly and patting his chest. He started purring, rolling to his side, white sock-like paws sticking up.

“Ugh, my chest hurts, Shooks. You’re a dick.”

Your cat gave zero fucks.

You were still petting him. Sigh.

“I’m getting up,” you announced to no one except your cat.

You tugged yourself out of your comfy, mint-colored duvet and winced, rubbing your breastbone. Did you buy this bedding set because it reminded you of your cat’s eye color? Yes. Were you a crazy cat lady? Maybe. In your defense, you hadn’t meant to become a crazy cat lady. You were innocently walking on the street when the tuxedo-patterned cat started following you. A large cat with big minty eyes surrounded by black fur like black bangs. White snout and jaw, pink nose, and a raspy meow. The tuxedo pattern was pretty similar to an actual suit, with a white chest and black fur over its back and limbs. White, sock-like paws, on the bigger side. Cute pink toe beans too. At the time, he was skinny and dirty, no collar around his neck, but you could tell he was long-limbed. He had a cut on his right eye, caked with blood.

“You alright, little guy?”

The cat seemed to scoff at you disapprovingly, as if to say, do I seem like a little guy to you?

“I guess you’re not a little guy. You have an owner?”

The cat’s response was headbutting your calf.

You took him back to your apartment and then it was doomed.

Why was his name Shooks? Well, actually, your cat’s name was Shooky, and it was because you tried many names to get him to respond to you – including, but not limited to, “you little shit” – and he responded to none of them except Shooky. For some reason, Shooky made him turn his black-and-white face around and look at you.

Shooky it was.

The first encounter was cute, but after you had fed him and given him a few pats, you gave him a good, hard taste of reality. Shooky was very upset about getting a bath for the first time. There had been a lot of angry meowing, although thankfully he hadn’t swiped at you very much. As soon as you got mostly undressed and sat in the bath with him, he seemed to relent. Maybe it was because you closed the glass door and he couldn’t leave.

“Do you see how dirty you are? You need a bath.”

He gave you a disapproving meow.

“Look, I even bought pet shampoo and you’ll get treats after. Come on, you.”

He was very displeased.

In any case, Shooky was now your primary companion, a large, long-limbed, fluffy tuxedo cat, following you around as you brushed your teeth and made breakfast, his new black collar jingling with a tiny silver bell. Every morning, you handed him his dry food first – he chomped down immediately – and made yourself some breakfast as he ate. Somehow your life now revolved around him, spending time looking up the best cat food (without paying an arm and a leg, you weren’t a sugar momma), making sure he was brushed (his hair got everywhere), telling everyone you needed to get home because you couldn’t miss his dinnertime (if you were a second late opening the door, Shooky would start meowing very exaggeratedly, like he was dying, what a drama queen). Was he annoying? Yes. Was he the best cuddle buddy? Also, yes. Kind of like a boyfriend, but better, because Shooky didn’t talk back.

You arranged your small dishes on the table. Tofu. Eggs. Pickled squash. Just enough for one. You sat down, holding your bowl of steamed rice.

A tuxedo furball jumped onto the table, licking his chops.

“Look here, this isn’t for you. Shoo.”

He settled onto the tabletop and stared at you as you ate.

Sigh.

Live with a cat was pretty similar to life without one.

Except for that weird habit Shooky had of sitting on your bathroom rug when you got out of the shower, scaring the shit out of you the first time. You lived alone, so you didn’t really bother closing doors, but you considered changing that. But it was just a cat. Also, he walked in here of his own volition. Not your fault if his eyes were scarred.

Shooky was a normal cat, but also a weird cat.

He slept a lot. Normal. He bit his paws sometimes. Weird. You figured maybe it was his nails, so you learned to trim them and he seemed better about it, but sometimes when he was stressed, you would notice fur missing from his little white socks. A lot of things could stress a cat. The internet taught you that. You brought him toys and played with him, but mostly he seemed to want you to sit down so he could plant himself in your lap. This make life rather difficult, so you decided it was time to invest in Netflix so you could at least use your time wisely.

This was for your cat, remember.

Yes, binging shows on Netflix was for your cat.

The weirdest thing was…

Shooky was always stressed when you invited a man into your home.

Maybe he didn’t like men. Something in his past, maybe? Could be. Come to think of it, did you even like men? That was a question for another day, but in any case, your cat always gave you this accusing stare when you brought a guy over, no matter how nice the guy was, even if the guy petted him very gently. Shooky never attacked them. He just glared at you like you had betrayed him somehow. How could that be?

What a needy drama queen.

You figured, eh, it didn’t really matter. He wasn’t trying to sabotage your chances of finding true love and all that stuff.

Who are we kidding?

You’d settle for a simple good dicking.

Well, there was that one time.

That time you were in the middle of giving a guy a blowjob. It was going great. You were naked, he was naked, he had a tattooed arm – hot as fuck – and he was very vocally enjoying your tongue technology. Hey, you didn’t have many talents, but you had that going for you. Even if a guy was mildly apprehensive about banging you, once you got your mouth on his dick, it was game over. You mentally patted yourself on the back for doing such a good job.

Positive reinforcement, right?

Annnnnnnd then…

Your cat jumped onto your back and made you choke on his dick.

“Urk!”

“Oh, fu–”

All seven kilos right between your shoulder blades. Oof.

“Are you okay?” He was half-worried, half-laughing, and Shooky was climbing up your back, pressing onto your neck, one paw on the nape, trying to murder you by dick suffocation. It took both of you to lift you off the dick – sad – and Shooky left a few scratches on your neck, as if to communicate his distaste of your infidelity. The guy was really nice about it. Actually, he found it hilarious. You scowled at Shooky and he gave you that deadpan stare that all cats seemed to have. The rest of the night was hot and heavy like you wanted and you even eventually got to complete said blowjob, which brightened your spirits.

It was a little disorienting that your cat was watching you from his cat tree the entire time.

Creep.

Honestly, you would have kept dating that guy if he didn’t move to a different city. Sigh.

Eventually, you stopped bringing men over.

One, because Shooky. Two, because worldwide pandemic.

Sigh.

The night that changed everything was ordinary.

Too ordinary.

You were passed out on the couch, halfway into season six of American Horror Story, somewhat peeved because you wanted to watch the other seasons, but geez, season five had such a poor story and hard focus on gore that it slightly turned you off. That it was a lot, even for you. Season six was better, but slow. The first four seasons had really hooked you and the idea of them all being connected? Nutty. You wanted to watch all of it.

Idea of season five? Awesome.

Lady Gaga? Yeah, why not, you’d be seduced.

Execution? Eh… could be better.

Shooky hadn’t watched any of it. He just slept in your lap.

Subtitles really helped you out here. You didn’t understand how the English-speaking audience could hear the whispering parts, but maybe that was because your English was garbage. You could read better than listen.

At the moment, you weren’t reading shit.

You were half-tucked in a fuzzy black blanket with a tuxedo cat pattern. Did you see the tuxedo cat pattern and buy it immediately? Yes. Were you a crazy cat lady? Maybe. In any case, your head was cocked at an awkward angle on the couch cushion and your mouth was open, snoring away. Attractive. You were wearing mint-colored, striped pajamas, one arm hanging off the couch and the other on Shooky’s furry butt, because you had been petting him.

Netflix was doing that annoying thing where it was asking you if you were still watching or not.

You couldn’t respond.

Shooky was awake.

Your cat was staring at your laptop on your coffee table. It was open. An HDMI cable connected it to your television. Not a clean setup, but an effective one. Again, you lived alone. Who was going to judge you? Your tuxedo cat?

Pfft.

Your cat was awake.

He got off your lap and hopped to the coffee table, peering at your laptop. Then he did what any sensible cat would do.

He walked all over your keyboard.

Circling around and around, smashing all the buttons with his cute pink toe beans, looking for a comfortable spot before settling down and planting his fluffy body on top of it. Windows closed, tabs appeared, the volume got muted, your display settings got fucked, the usual.

The unusual part was that your cat was looking at the screen.

Your internet browser was open.

A video was playing on a mysterious website.

A handsome young man with a boxy smile was wearing a sienna floral dress shirt and sunglasses, oddly paired with flared violet pants. He was standing next to another young man with an angelic face who, for some reason, was wearing a pastel floral handkerchief around on his head and a white-and-navy tracksuit with black, red, and green stripes. They were standing in some weird set with a black tablecloth covered round table and a lavender crystal ball, crystal-like beaded curtains glinting in strangely colorful lighting.

There was no volume.

Your cat tilted his head at the screen, curious.

The man with the boxy smile was speaking excitedly, gesturing to the angelic-looking man who seemed to be in awe. A retro, old school graphic popped up, flowers surrounding a blocky orange and green serif font, mildly tacky but somehow endearing in its own way.

COULD WISHES REALLY BE GRANTED?

Your cat tilted his head the other way.

Your cat didn’t know Korean.

… Right?

Well, you did mostly speak to him in Korean. Maybe he was secretly fluent. He definitely knew, don’t fucking do that, because you would witness him doing the very thing you told him not to do right after you said it. Bastard. But you couldn’t bear witness to this now. You were knocked out on the couch.

Zzz.

Boxy-smile guy placed his fingers elegantly on his forehead, mock dismay on his features, acting as if he couldn’t believe the viewer’s skepticism. Angel-looking guy placed his hands in prayer position, the text now reading, I won’t believe you unless you prove it! Boxy-smile guy flourished to the camera, showing off his brilliant pearly-white smile, mouthing words unheard. Text appeared once more.

Make a wish, any wish!

Your cat closed his eyes and appeared to be asleep.

The video turned black and disappeared into purple sparkles.

Your internet browser unexpectedly closed.

You woke up with a painful stitch in your neck and Shooky nowhere to be found.

“Fuck…”

You tried to get up, but underestimated the cramp in your back and fell onto the hardwood floor.

“Fuck!”

You blamed the pandemic for fucking up your sleep schedule. Also, getting old. Fuck getting old and being an adult. Time didn’t stop just because you didn’t go to work. Well, not true. You did go to work; your work was just different now. You were YouTube video editor, which meant you were mostly edited video game montages now instead of travel vlogs. The work was slower now. People were getting discouraged, taking breaks, because, you know.

Pandemic.

Sigh.

Anyway, not the point. You were grateful that your work was mostly internet and computer-based. Not everyone was so lucky. You were also grateful that you didn’t work in an industry that was too negatively affected by the pandemic. It had started off as a hobby, but then the creators you were helping unexpectedly blew up, needing your help more and more. You fell into it by accident, but that’s how life was. Happy little accidents. You couldn’t complain. As long as you had some income to feed your cat and you, that was enough.

Speaking of cat.

“Shooky?”

No meow.

Huh.

He normally would meow or trot over to you when called. He was weirdly affectionate like that.

You were still on the floor, on hands and knees, crick in your neck and back aching. Ah yes, age was just a number until your back pain flared up due to repeated nights of unintentionally falling asleep on the couch. Lovely. You stretched out your back with a groan and yawned, cracking your neck.

“FUCK!”

That hurt. Ugh, you really needed to stop sleeping on the sofa. You untangled yourself from your blanket and headed to the bathroom, rubbing your neck. You still didn’t see your fluffy, seven-kilogram, kind-of-an-ass tuxedo cat, but whatever. He had to be in the apartment. He couldn’t exactly leave. He was a cat. What was he going to do, grow legs and opposable thumbs?

Pfft.

You shoved your toothpaste-covered toothbrush in your mouth and began brushing your teeth. You hummed, trying to remember if you had any deadlines. Eh, they were on your Google calendar. You would check it after washing up. You spat and brushed for a few more minutes, thinking about nothing. This was nice. Sometimes it was nice to think about nothing. No major problems to address, simply a chill and routine morning.

Seemed sufficient.

You reached over to the spit cup and put some lukewarm water in it before taking your toothbrush out and sipping some water to gargle the minty suds out.

You heard a deep, raspy voice call your name.

“Hmm?”

You looked in the mirror.

Wait.

Your mouth was full of dirty toothpaste water, cheeks puffed out.

The voice called your name again, quietly.

Nervously.

Your eyes widened, staring into the mirror in shock.

A pale man was standing behind you, wearing your mint-colored duvet over his shoulders. Messy black hair to his rounded cheeks, dark brown cat-like eyes, small pink pout. His nose was a little red, as if he was cold. There was a black choker on his neck, with a silver bell. He was taller than you, and he looked very confused.

Also.

Pointed, velvety black ears on top of his head, white tufts of fur sticking out, flicking back and forth.

You spat all over your mirror in shock.

“Urk–!”

The man jerked back as you threw your head into the sink, hastily taking another cupful of water to rinse out your mouth because, WHAT THE FUCK WAS GOING ON? Why was there a man in your apartment? With fucking cat ears? That moved? What kind of kinky shit was that? Were you dreaming? What the fuck?! You grabbed the hand towel from its hook and furiously wiped the dirty water off your mirror, completely convinced you were having sensory and auditory hallucinations. Did you drink last night? Accidentally buy groceries laced with LSD? Snorted three kilos of cocaine off a hooker? Who the fuck knows, but there was no fucking way that you let some fucking man in your home, because, one, pandemic and, two, Shooky–

You froze.

The pale man with black hair was still there, standing in the doorway of your bathroom, looking slightly disgusted, but also scared.

He said your name again. A question, almost like a raspy meow.

It was…

Familiar?

You violently wiped your bathroom mirror some more, nearly cracking the glass.

The man was still there, wearing your mint-colored duvet.

Slowly, slowly, you turned around to face this man, your neck cracking loudly, sending searing pain up the back of your head and reminding you that, nope, this is not a dream, and if it was, it was a very shitty dream because at least in a dream you shouldn’t actually feel pain. You looked up at this man, at his fluffy black bangs shading his dark attentive eyes and pale face, chewing on his lip, clutching your duvet around his body like a giant mint cloak.

The cat ears on his head twitched.

“Uh…”

You blinked at him, watching the ears.

“Do… I know you?”

He gave you an eerily recognizable deadpan stare. “I think you do.”

No way.

What?

No.

This wasn’t possible.

You’re drunk, high, or in purgatory.

(You did have sex before marriage.)

“S… Shooky?” you croaked.

The man took a deep breath and shook his head.

“Actually, my name is Min Yoongi.”

You blinked at him. “What? You have a name?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.”

Relief washed over you. “What do you mean, you guess? That means you’re a human being! With a birth certificate! Thank God, I thought you were my fucking cat for some reason, haha, that’s so fucking ridiculous–!” For some reason, the idea of a random stranger being in your home was much more comfortable to you than you damn cat becoming a human being, because for a hot second, you thought… but no, no, that’s stupid. “Speaking of ridiculous, these ears are crazy dude, they look almost real–”

You reached up and yanked on one of the velvety ears.

“Ow, what the fuck!”

Oh.

Oh my God.

OhmyfuckingGodthey’reattachedtohishead.

“What the FUCK?” you bellowed and a large pale hand shot out of the duvet to clamp one of his cat ears down, shrinking away from you.

“Stop yelling, please, I have sensitive hearing,” Yoongi winced, ticking his head, as if he was trying to flatten the other ear too, but couldn’t. His other hand was holding tightly to the mint duvet.

You saw a glimpse of a pale chest.

Your eyes widened into the size of saucepans.

His hand darted back into the duvet and clamped it shut from your bulging eyes, frowning. He quickly bundled himself up and straightened, thinning his mouth into a line. A few seconds passed. You gawked at him, jaw slack. The pale man sighed heavily.

“My name is Min Yoongi. My parents gave me that name. I don’t think I have a human birth certificate because I’m not a human. I am a cat. You used to call me Shooky, but Min Yoongi is my name, so I would appreciate it if you called me by my given name.”

Your jaw went even more slack.

“Cats… have names?” you squeaked.

Yoongi made a face at you. “Of course, we do. We are not savages.”

“B… But…” You frowned, shoulders falling. “You seemed to like the name Shooky…”

Yoongi shrugged his duvet-covered shoulders. “It sounded better than all the other names you suggested.”

You puffed your cheeks, placing your hands on your hips. “What was wrong with Tata? Or Chimmy? Or Cooky?”

Yoongi gave you a disapproving glare. “Well, perhaps in a parallel universe the name Shooky is somehow important to me. In any case, it was the best suggestion.”

You narrowed your eyes, frowning. “You little shit.”

“I especially disliked that one. Seemed a bit discriminating to our size difference…” He paused, looking down at you. “At the time anyway.”

Your hands fell, looking up at your cat. Er. Min Yoongi. “So, uh… Yoongi…?”

He tilted his head, peering curiously at you under his black bangs. “Hm?”

You pointed at him, gesturing up and down. “Why are you, uh… a man?”

He looked down at the duvet covering his body. You stared at your bedding wrapped around him. Why was he wearing it anyway? In fact, all you could see was a black choker with a silver bell. The mental lightning bolt suddenly hit you. Oh. Your neck began to heat. Your ears began to heat. Your whole face began to heat. Oh. Oh? Oh! Shooky – er, Yoongi? – whatever, your cat didn’t wear clothes. He only wore a collar… which meant…

It felt like your whole body was on fire with abrupt realization.

Yoongi looked up at your mint-pajama-wrapped, now tomato self still pointing at him.

“I don’t know why I’m a man.”

One of his eyebrows raised. Then Yoongi smirked.

An open-mouthed, amused smirk.

“And yes, I’m naked. Your clothes don’t fit me. I tried.”

Your cat, er, man? Cat-man? What even... never mind, Min Yoongi was sitting on your bed, still wrapped in your mint duvet like a key lime cake roll, waiting as you rummaged around in your dresser, searching for literally any piece of clothing that might possibly fit him. The problem was, you worked from home, so you didn't exactly own a plethora of different clothing options. Your daily wardrobe consisted of slinky black leggings...

"They're stretchy?" you suggested timidly.

Yoongi had blinked at you. "I don't think so."

"It could work?"

He pursed his lips together. "I think you're forgetting something."

You gave him a blank look. "Huh?"

Yoongi gave you his deadpan stare. "I believe you are well acquainted with human male genitalia."

Oh.

Right.

He had a dick.

You turned red and robotically shoved your leggings back into their place. A sudden thought flitted across your brain and you spun back to face him, blurting it out before filtering yourself.

"Hahaha, good thing I never got you fixed, eh?"

Yoongi blinked very, very slowly. It was hard to tell if he was annoyed, amused, or wanted to murder you. In conclusion, typical cat behavior.

"I'm not fond of the idea of castration, so I suppose so."

Awkward.

Your vet had suggested it, but since he had been an indoor cat and you weren't intending on getting another, you figured you wouldn't put him under the unnecessary surgery and it would help you avoid the cost. A little irresponsible? Maybe. But you were very careful not to leave the front door open and, so far, he hasn't had the chance to get some poor lady cat knocked up.

Unfortunately…

He knew you considered permanently removing his nuts. Yikes.

Sorry, Shooks. Er, Yoongi.

In any case!

The other half of your daily wardrobe was sweatshirts, but Yoongi's shoulders were too broad for them and he was too tall. Why was he so big anyway? Well, he wasn’t exactly big, just long-limbed. You guessed he was actually on the leaner side, judging from the way the duvet wrapped around him and the brief flash of long fingers, slim forearm, and toned chest. He had been a larger cat.

Seven kilos turned into... him?

You suddenly started and yanked open your underwear drawer, shuffling through it to get to the back and pull out a neatly folded dark gray blob.

"I have this–"

"No."

The response was so forceful and dismissive that you froze, the dark gray fabric unfurling in your loose grip. It was a large men's sweatshirt, soft, charcoal, slightly acid-wash, covered with white paint stains. Eggshell white, to be exact. The exact paint color of this very bedroom, because you had worn it to repaint over that original disgusting beige color.

"Why not?" you inquired, holding it up by the shoulders. "It'll fit you, for sure. It used to be..."

Yoongi kept his completely neutral expression trained on you as you reached your revelation, his dark eyes observing every detail of your body's reaction to the memory. Your grip on the sweatshirt tightened. You felt your cheeks and ears heat, pulse roaring in your ears.

Oh.

Er, right, so…

That one time that Shooky – no, Yoongi? – jumped on your back and made you choke on a dick? Yeah, that guy. Tattoo guy. Yeah, well, before that incident, tattoo guy was the friend of a friend who offered to help you paint your apartment because he had experience working construction – “helped my dad fix-up a house to resell for a couple months,” he had said with his disgustingly cute, cheeky grin, making you nod like an idiot and your pussy throb with his endearing adorableness – and you had moved all the furniture out so you two could get it done quickly.

You had to put your cat in the bathroom.

You didn’t want him to breathe in the fumes or get paint on his luscious fur. It was for his own good.

Tattoo guy had appeared in said charcoal sweatshirt, black ripped jeans, and the most attractive thighs in the whole damn universe, just out and about, giant holes exposing tan skin and taut muscle. Your eyes widened, frozen at your front door.

Oh yeah, he had paint rollers too. You hadn’t given a shit about those in that moment.

He had noticed you staring and laughed sheepishly. “Sorry, I just wore the ugliest pants I own. It might get messy, you know?”

No, tattoo guy. No one thought your pants were ugly.

You sure as hell didn’t.

“Oh, yeah, that’s why I wore this gross t-shirt,” you said absentmindedly, referring to your four-sizes-too-large, free t-shirt that had been chucked at your head while walking past your university common area. It was a hideous chanteuse with magenta writing, a color combination that absolutely deserved to go to hell, and could not even be saved by the quirky, stylish, thrift-savvy TIkTokers of today. It was the ugliest thing you owned, so you wore it to repaint your bedroom.

Now you regretted it.

Tattoo guy looked you up and down. He smirked under his long black hair.

“Your body still looks great though.”

“… Urk?”

Didn’t really matter that you couldn’t conjure a sexy response, because, clearly, tattoo guy had made his decision leagues before arriving here. Painting a bedroom? Oh, yeah, you did that, and with way too much sexual tension. A man should not be that flirty while holding two paint rollers and speed painting your walls. What were you supposed to do? You barely knew the guy. All you managed to do was make awkward small talk to get to know him better. Then he took off his sweatshirt.

“Wait, that’s illegal.”

He had smirked at you, spinning the paint roller in his hand, white t-shirt molded to his body. “Hm?”

You were being mildly disrespected, but also you were gawking at his tattooed right arm and his blindingly beautiful forearms. Cough, no. You didn’t have a thing for attractive forearms. Wasn’t like staring at this muscular pair was making you weak at the knees or anything. Okay, maybe. But you weren’t going to say it out loud. Tattoo guy ticked his chin below you, to the floor. Your job was to paint the little nooks at the corners, ceiling, and baseboards. You spent a whole lot of your job sneaking glances at him and getting caught.

Shit.

“You missed a spot.”

You whipped your head to the floor, craning your head to look for it. A paint roller appeared beside you, pointing to a small sliver for nasty beige. He had a clear, silvery voice.

“Right here.”

You frowned at it and raised your paintbrush in warning to the offensive beige, ready to strike.

“… Noona.”

You started and fell over.

You sputtered, legs tangled, oversized shirt flipping up, trying not to drop the paintbrush and drawing a fat streak across the unpainted wall. You shook your head roughly, clutching the handle of the brush, cool draft floating up your shirt.

Tattoo guy appeared above you, grinning, his front teeth slightly too large and giving him the appearance of a rambunctious bunny.

“You alright?”

You felt your neck and ears heat. No, you were not alright. Yes, you were older, but that didn’t… that wasn’t the time… You didn’t expect it, that’s all. You tried very hard not to look at his thighs. Or his face. Or his chest. Just didn’t look at him. Also, you were pretty sure you were flashing him and pretty fucking sure you didn’t give a shit.

You coughed awkwardly. “Yup, I’m good.”

Back to copious sexual tension complemented by paint fumes.

Once the first coat was down, you two stood in the center of the room, surrounded by the plastic drop cloth, him banishing a paint roller and you a paintbrush. Challenge complete and it didn’t take you very long. Nice.

“We have to let it dry and then we can paint another coat,” he was explaining.

“It looks fine like this.”

Tattoo guy clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “Once it dries, it will look uneven. Trust me.”

You frowned. “Okay. How long should we wait?”

“Couple hours, at least.”

A couple hours? You frowned more. “What are we supposed to do until then?”

He didn’t reply. You turned your head to face him and tattoo guy was staring at you with a smile.

Uh oh.

He was spinning the paint roller with one hand. You felt your ears and neck heat. He switched from his left hand to his right, seamlessly. Incredibly sexy. Were the paint fumes getting to you? You gulped, awkwardly gesturing to the paintbrush.

“Let me just… put this down…”

You turned around and balanced your paintbrush in the paint tray, only to gasp as your felt something foamy roll down your back, covering you with the strong stench of paint. It stopped above the curve of your ass, unable to roll smoothly any longer.

“Hmm, can’t get past your juicy ass, noona,” he teased.

You spun around, cheeks flushed, sputtering.

No, no. You didn’t forget tattoo guy’s name. You remembered it, even now. Remembered saying it in multiple different ways, even.

“Jeon J-Jungkook!”

In surprise, streaks of paint in your hair, him smirking, dropping the paint roller on the other plastic tray and somehow not tipping it over, thank goodness, him walking up to you, taking the bottom of your paint-covered chanteuse university t-shirt, leaning down to whisper hotly against your lips.

“Ah, sorry, it seemed like you didn’t like that shirt very much,” he breathed, sending your brain into overdrive with the heat against your skin, his knuckles brushing your thighs. “You can wear my sweatshirt instead, if you like.”

Your eyes widened, staring at him in shock.

“J… Jungkook…”

In breathlessness, heart pounding in your chest, gaze locked with mischievous dark chocolate orbs, his teeth catching his lower lip, tiny mole underneath revealed.

“Yeah?”

Why was his voice so deep? The tiny tip of his pink tongue darted out, licking his lips enticingly.

“… Noona?”

This man was illegal.

Your hands darted down and gripped his, catching your lower lip in your teeth as well, matching his lip bite, seeing the eagerness growing in his eyes.

Someone should call the police. Or an ambulance.

You grinned, cocking an eyebrow. “I don’t want to wear anything around you.”

But not for you.

There was a very loud meow from your bathroom, but before Jungkook could ask, you yanked your shirt up and over your head. He gasped and instantly it was lips on lips, messy kisses and stumbling to the living room were your bed, dresser, nightstands, bookcase, knickknacks, everything scattered everywhere, but Jungkook and you were too busy yanking off clothes and getting frisky to give a shit.

Yikes.

You stared at Yoongi now, red from head to toe, clutching the dark gray sweatshirt. He rolled his eyes and looked away from you.

“I… washed it?” you offered weakly.

Yoongi’s dark brows raised from under his black bangs. “Mmm, you forget that I have quite keen hearing. I’m not deaf like you, human.”

The color drained from your face.

Well.

Maybe, just maybe, Jungkook got you to wear his dark gray sweatshirt, forcing you – respectfully, he called you noona, after all – to get on your hands and knees for him, then make you wait in said embarrassing position with his sweatshirt bunched around your neck – because, er, gravity – while he casually made you watch him roll the condom on, highly amused by your impatient glare, only to move away and slowly shove his dick inside your soaking wet pussy and spank your ass until you backed up into him enough times to make yourself cum on his stiff length without him moving his hips.

Respectfully, of course.

“Fuck, noona, that was so fucking hot…”

“Jungkook,” you gasped breathlessly, ass stinging in glorious pain. “F-Fuck me, please.”

He made you scream.

He fucked your hard, making the bed creak, pounding you so roughly into the mattress that your fingers curled into the mint sheets, and when you gasped that you were close, he fucking stopped, the damn sadist, causing you to slam your fists into the bed and buck back into his crotch, Jungkook chuckling at your desperation. In your haze of begging for Jungkook’s cock, you heard a judgmental meow from your bathroom, but before you could address it, Jungkook seemed to have accepted your pleading and began to thrust into you once more, making you lose your train of thought and all thoughts in general, except your dire need to orgasm.

Jungkook had made you moan for hours.

Right now, however, Yoongi’s sharp look was making you mute. You were so mortified that you swore your soul stood up and walked out of your body, too ashamed to be in Yoongi’s presence any longer.

“Mmm,” the dark-haired man mused absentmindedly, pointed ears flicking.

From spitting onto the mirror to mentioning his possible castration to remembering that you had locked Yoongi in the bathroom for hours to have mind-blowing sex with Jeon Jungkook under the guise of repainting your bedroom walls…

Too bad life doesn’t have an undo button.

You suddenly remembered Jungkook pushing you up against the bathroom door, your leg hooked around his waist, his cock plunging in and out of you, lips on your neck, and your wrists pinned to the door, rattling it as he fucked you, whispering against your skin.

“You sound so fucking sexy, make more sounds for me, I’ll fuck you as much as you want, fuck you until you can’t think, can’t move, just to hear you say my name over and over…”

“Jungkook… f-fuck, you f-feel so fucking good, o-oh, Jungkook…!”

He pulled his lips away from your neck and smirked in your face.

“Yeah… noona?”

Respectfully.

“Fuck!”

Your back arced against the bathroom door as you came, pussy throbbing and spasming, the top of your head touching the wood, gasping Jungkook’s name in ecstasy, slamming your wrists against the door, Jungkook moaning as he came inside you, cock jerking inside the condom and swelling it with his orgasm, lips crashing down on yours and you whining pathetically into his mouth as he sucked on your tongue roughly.

A quiet, disapproving meow below you.

A master yikes.

You deliberately shoved the dark gray blob back into your underwear drawer.

Yoongi pursed his lips.

“Why is it in your underwear drawer, anyway?”

You slowly closed it, the wood snapping as the drawer touched the dresser.

Silence.

A crow cawed in the distance.

“You know what, let me make a trip to the convenience store…” was your hollow reply as you mechanically walked out of your bedroom, followed by a mint duvet.

“Do you know what size I would be?” came the husky, amused chuckle behind you as you pawed around your apartment for your wallet, two masks, hand sanitizer.

“I’ll just… buy a variety…”

“Or you could measure.”

You heard a rustle and you whipped your head around, only to see Yoongi’s cocked eyebrow and a slight bit of his exposed shoulders, collarbones on display, silver bell jingling. He yanked it back up, frowning at you.

“Are you a pervert?”

“N… no!”

You jerked away and hastily hooked the masks on your ears, fumbling with your sneakers before declaring, “I will be right back!” And then you threw yourself out the door.

Yoongi sighed, finally releasing his hold on the duvet.

“Ugh, so stuffy…”

His long black tail whipped about.

The door suddenly jerked back open and you plucked your keys from the side dish.

Only to see Yoongi fully naked, sleek black tail whisking around, blinking at you.

He was naked.

Really naked.

Very, one hundred percent, naked.

The mint duvet was pooled around his legs on the ground and Min Yoongi, who was formerly your cat Shooky, was a fair-skinned, long-limbed, lean-bodied, very attractive tall man, with velvety black cat ears and tail and – urk! – completely intact human male genitalia. Your neck, ears, cheeks, chest, ancestors from generations long ago, all turned red in embarrassment. Once again, you soul completely left your body in pure mortification.

“D… Don’t leave!” you blurted, snapping the door closed.

Yoongi just stood there, sighing as he heard the door lock and a body bolt down the apartment building stairs.

“You didn’t even change out of your pajamas…” he muttered, picking up the duvet.

"I can't wear these."

It was a few hours later. Thankfully, when you arrived home with your purchases, your cat... man was asleep, wrapped like a mint cake roll in your duvet. You tried not to think about his naked body on your bed, therefore ending up thinking about his naked body on your bed.

"You need to wear pants! For..."

Dark eyebrows raised.

"Decency!"

After getting home, you had spent the next thirty minutes hand-washing a black t-shirt, black boxer briefs, and loose black pants that were definitely too short but it was the only size available that could fit that waist, so you had to make do. You put the other shirts and underwear in the washing machine, but you needed to wash at least one outfit and hang it to dry. You tried to use the hottest water your hands could handle to sterilize the clothing, wincing at the blistering heat.

You didn't know if Yoongi could get coronavirus but you weren't going to risk it.

Eventually you placed everything on the drying rack and positioned your space heater on them to dry them off.

Then you passed out on the couch. You deserved it, after working so hard.

Only to be woken up by Yoongi poking your shoulder roughly and telling you he couldn't wear the underwear and pants.

He was still holding the duvet around his body and your neck was still regretting every second of sleeping on the couch. Ow. Too much physical labor. Quarantine had turned you into a formless potato. You sat up halfway, wincing. Ugh, pain. You jabbed your finger at Yoongi, who gave you a displeased narrowing of his eyes.

"Put the pants on, you animal!"

Yoongi swept around the sofa, mint duvet and all, determined glint in his dark orbs, lips pursed in annoyance. You started, cracking your neck by accident, yelping in pain as you fell back against the couch.

Yoongi planted himself on top of you nimbly.

You froze.

Partly because you were shocked, but mostly because your neck seized a bit.

His legs were on either side of you, body still wrapped up, perfectly balanced despite the sudden leap, surveying you with a disapproving and discerning eye. The silver bell on his neck jingled with his movement. You could feel his calves against your knees.

His bare calves.

"Are you dumb?"

"What?" you croaked in response.

Yoongi rolled his eyes. "You always forget things."

You blinked at him, confused, neck heating. "What are you talking about?" you snapped impatiently.

"This."

Thump.

You felt something long and furry hit your leg. Your body almost jerked up in surprise, but Yoongi hissed at you, making you lurch back, somewhat stunned at how cat-like it sounded. It was definitely a warning. You were still in your pajamas, slightly thinner material than your usual clothes. It had been cold outside, but your everlasting embarrassment had kept you toasty warm.

Like it was now, because you realized your clothed outer thigh was touching his inner thigh.

His naked inner thigh.

You let out a noise between shock and confusion.

"Urk?"

The long, furry thing brushed against your legs as Yoongi watched you reach your slow realization.

"O-oh... Right. You have a tail..."

He grunted, thinning his eyes into slits. "Yes, because I am a cat."

Highly debatable at the moment, but you were too busy remembering your cat also had a human dick and nuts. Well, not also. Only had? Well. Maybe if you had a seco–

No. No, never mind that. Yeah.

Never.

Mind.

You gulped, trying to suppress the rising heat in your ears and failing. "I can sew?"

Yoongi tilted his head, nose wrinkling a bit. Then he got off you, circling around the couch. You sat up, neck still hurting, but the warmth of your embarrassment somehow helping. Yes, great, trading temporary physical pain for lifetime mental embarrassment, only for such moments to be remembered at the most inopportune times to throw you off guard.

Awesome.

You visibly cringed before standing up, seeing Yoongi's hand snake out and nab the boxer briefs, making them disappear into the duvet. You saw the fabric rustle and then the briefs reappeared, chucked at your face.

Your head snapped back at the force, arms flailing.

"Mmphf!"

"Should be about four or five centimeters. Make it quick. It's hot under here."

You yanked the underwear off your face, scowling. "I'm not your maid!"

Yoongi raised an eyebrow, black ears flicking. He was smirking at you. You narrowed your eyes. What was this guy so high and mighty for? If anything, he should be grateful that you even car–

"You're been cleaning up my literal shit for a few years now, so you are practically are my maid."

... Wait a second, he's right.

You growled and hauled yourself up.

An hour later, your cat was dressed.

Cat?

Man?

Whatever.

Min Yoongi was finally wearing clothes and not your duvet and your fingers stung like a bitch.

You ended up snipping a hole and using bias tape to seal off the raw edges. You didn’t own a sewing machine, so this was the next best thing you could think of without destroying your fingers by trying to imitate zig-zag stiches, although you ended up destroying your fingers anyway because you had to sew small, delicate stitches to attach the bias tape. The area was too high traffic to not reinforce.

Sigh.

“Please tell me you know how to use the bathroom by yourself from now on.”

Yoongi had raised an eyebrow.

“Of course. I’ve watched you enough times to know how to expel human excrement.”

Right. Because he was your cat. Don’t think about it too much. You were trying to take everything one thing at a time so you didn’t overwhelm yourself. Those were future-you problems. Why does he talk like that anyway? You didn’t even know how he knew Korean. Was it because you watched too much television? Yikes.

You rubbed your forehead, dismissing the discussion. “Good talk.”

You realized you would have to cut openings for his tail for all the underwear on the drying rack but, again, that was a future-you problem. Instead, you let him change in your bedroom and went to retrieve the laptop on your coffee table. Plugged it in and turned it on.

All your settings were wack.

“The fuck?” you muttered, resetting your display, volume, brightness, sigh, nearly everything. This only happened when a certain someone stepped on the keys when you weren’t looking. You raised your voice, still looking at the screen. “Did you fuck with my computer last night?”

“No. Oh, well, I did sleep on it,” Yoongi was saying as he stepped out of your bedroom. You growled in your chest, annoyed, but setting everything back into its place before opening your Google calendar. Nothing due immediately, thank god. “Er, maybe you shouldn’t…”

You looked up.

Oh.

Oh?

Oh!

Yoongi mussed his black hair, scratching at his velvety black ear. You noticed he didn’t have a set of human ears. Well, duh. That’d be weird. He was still wearing the black choker with the little silver bell on it. The t-shirt was nicely loose on his frame, the black standing out against his fair skin. The sweatpants were a little short on the ankle, the slim fit showing off his leanness. The sleek black tail swished back and forth.

He was… handsome.

Yoongi looked apprehensive, twisting his lips to one side. “Hmm.”

You blinked at him. “What?”

He shrugged. “Well, when I woke up as a human, I was cold, except for…” His hand ghosted towards his crotch. He pulled it away, waving it aside. “Mmm, never mind.”

You gave him a confused look and went back to your keyboard, typing away. Yoongi winced but you were too busy replying to an email to think too much about it.

We interrupt your regularly scheduled program to inform you of the following.

Min Yoongi had woken up on the coffee table, fucking freezing because humans didn’t have fur, and because his nuts and dick were getting roasted by your overheating laptop keyboard.

Upon waking up, he had a mild mental breakdown as you continued snoring loudly and unceremoniously, before scurrying away to the warmest place he knew – your bed, where he claimed the duvet and tried to figure out what the fuck was going on.

Is this real life?

He had poked at various parts of his new body, trying to figure out if this was a dream or a horrific nightmare.

As we all know.

Life is a horrific nightmare, so indeed, this was real life.

You jumped as Yoongi slumped down on the sofa next to you, sticking his head and ears into your view, blocking the computer screen.

“I’m hungry.”

You gawked at him.

“What a-are you d-doing?” you sputtered.

“I’m hungry,” he repeated. He had a bit of a raspy, almost growly voice at times, reminding you of a cat’s meow. His meow, in fact.

You scooted away, neck heating. Yoongi followed, prodding you.

“Why are you like this?” you grumbled irritably, smacking his hand. Yoongi persisted, as if you did nothing at all.

“This is how I get your attention, because you humans will ignore me if I don’t.”

“You’re a human too!”

“No, I am a cat.”

“Hello?” You grabbed his hand and jabbed at his palm, pointing to his thumb. “Cats don’t have thumbs!”

Yoongi yanked his hand out, shockingly similar to how Shooky used to pull his paw out when you were massaging his little white socks and he was over it. You noticed his cuticles looked a bit dry and torn up. Lately, Shooky’s paws had been a little chewed up too. You frowned at it, tilting your head.

Yoongi stood up and his tail whacked you in the face.

“Ow!”

“Feed me.”

You scowled, rubbing your cheek. Yoongi stared down at you, face expressionless.

Okay, your cat might be a man now, but he was still a borderline asshole, so not much had changed.

“Fine.”

You both stared at the bowl of dry cat food.

Yoongi raised an eyebrow.

“What am I supposed to do with all this cat food then? I just brought it last week!”

“That’s your problem.”

You threw up your hands and cooked you both some lunch.

This was too much.

You know what you did when it was too much?

You took a nap.

You had dishes to clean, underwear to make tail-holes for, a cat that was now a man, an existential crisis to address, but you know what? You took a fucking nap instead. You left Yoongi with your computer and Netflix and told him to do whatever as long as none of it involved him leaving the house.

Yoongi had snorted. “What do I need to go out there for?”

“Awesome. I’m taking a nap.”

And you passed out.

Only to wake up groggily because your lungs were being crushed.

Actually no, it kind of felt like your whole torso was being crushed.

“Urk…!”

You fought with your sleepiness, somehow worse off than you had been before the nap, scrunching up your face ad blinking blearily. Head on memory foam pillow, check. Back on soft mattress, check. Black hair with sleek cat ears and pale face pressed on your chest? Check.

What, wait?

“Gah!”

You lurched and the head grunted, shoulders solidly pinning you down. He was under the mint-colored duvet. Yoongi, your cat that was now a man, was under the duvet.

UNDER THE DUVET.

“Stop yelling. Is that all you humans do? Yell?”

“Why are you – what are you doing here?” you hissed shrilly, trying to wiggle out from under him, but it was impossible. Yoongi was far too big now for you to throw him off.

“Sleeping, obviously,” he grumbled. “Or I was, until you started shouting.”

“Yes, but this is my bed,” you emphasized, realizing you could move your hands so you grabbed him by the waist, fingers grasping the black jersey fabric. You pressed inwards, hands molding to his sides.

Yoongi raised his head, squinting down at you.

You froze.

An oddly familiar gaze of accusation and uncaring. His eyes were dark brown, not the recognizable mint, but the effect was the same. Pink lips upturned, slightly annoyed.

And.

You suddenly remembered he was a man.

A man who was pressed down against you, long legs around your legs, broad chest to your chest, and shockingly attractive for someone who used to be a cat.

“I sleep in your bed all the time. What’s the difference?” Yoongi muttered.

What’s the difference?

The difference???

You’re a man!

A HOT MAN!!!

You struggled to find words, completely entranced by how close Yoongi’s face was to yours, watching his ears adjust slightly to pick up all the small sounds around him. You opened your mouth and it only made a tiny squeak. The pressure on your chest was becoming unbearable. You were so shocked that you completely forgot that you were still dying. You cleared your throat as Yoongi looked increasingly displeased.

“You… You used to be over the duvet…”

Yoongi yawned, nodding a little. “Yes, but it’s colder now. No more fur. I don’t know how you humans survive. Must be why you buy these warm things.”

Your hands were still on his waist. You pulled them away quickly and Yoongi frowned.

“Y-Yeah, but… you weigh a lot more now…” you croaked. “Can’t… breathe…”

Yoongi sighed heavily, as if this was a great disappointment. He slid off you.

“Hmm, I suppose that’s true.”

He nestled close to you and you still stunned, pin-straight body.

“Guess it’ll have to be like this instead from now on.”

Like this?

From now on?

Oh. Oh no.

Yoongi’s velvety, pointed ear flicked against your cheek, a low hum resounding in his chest.

part ii

masterpost

#yoongi x reader #jungkook x reader #bts fanfic #bts smut #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x you #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

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void-inked-pen · 3 years

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2012 Raph vs Rise Raph - Weapon Analysis

*Slams hands on table*... I’m in a mood and I need to rant.

SO! you all have been waiting for me to continue this series on comparing weaponry and skill between the two series and now it is time for me to discuss my second biggest pet peeve in the entire franchise: Raph’s weapon of choice.

Now, my biggest pet peeve would definitely have to be how 2012 treats the Bo staff as a weaker weapon when it is a staple in martial arts for a reason. Its not weak, its actually quite difficult to learn how to use as you will CONSTANTLY be hitting yourself with it in training just like you would with nunchucku.

However, how 2012 treats the Sai is a WHOLE other misconception. And that would be: the Sai isn’t a practical weapon that should be used as a primary weapon against other martial artists, especially in TMNT.

How could this be the case, you might ask? well, let me explain...

1) The Sai is built primarily for defense

One look at a Sai and you’d obviously assume “oh, that’s meant for stabbing!” but you would be incorrect. The Sais main purpose is to deflect, defend, and manipulate another persons weapon so you can get a hit in. Yes, a lot of counter moves that the Sai have in its arsenal is to try and stab your opponent but that hardly ever works.

Not only is the Sai built specifically to deflect moves, but guess what the weapon was primarily built to defend against?

It was made to deflect Bo staffs and Katana.

That’s right, the weapon is literally supposed to counter Leo AND Donnie’s weapons. Kinda makes you wonder whose weapon is ACTUALLY “superior” don’t it?

Now, I’m not going to say any weapon is better than another, but I am trying to put into perspective how stupid it is to think a Bo staff, which is a STAPLE in martial arts around the globe, is seen as a weaker persons weapon just because it doesn’t have a blade. Treating it as such isn’t smart in ANY form. The instant you underestimate a staff user is the moment you’re unconscious or possibly fatally wounded. Don’t mess with someone who wields a stick.

My main point, after that long tangent, is that Raph in 2012′s whole fighting style is supposed to be based around defense, not offense. That actually, deep down, is the primary instinct of Raph as a character in most iterations. He’s the shield, the defender. But the main issue with 2012 is that they characterize him as someone who “charges in” to a fight. Any other version of Raph, 2003, IDW, or Rise, don’t do that. 2012 Raph basically is trying to fight offensively with a weapon whose role, is defense. And does so poorly at that.

2) Raph uses Sais incorrectly

In the 2012 series, Raph uses his Sais incorrectly in so many ways. Several moves he doesn't appear to even use and he also NEVER HOLDS THEM CORRECTLY! Like, one key thing you have to be able to do with Sais is flip them around A LOT. But I don't remember ever seeing him flip them around into their proper holds.

How 2012 Raph holds them is like this whenever he starts a fight:

How you’re actually supposed to hold them is like this:

Notice the difference? You never point the prongs out in front of you, you ALWAYS keep the longest point flush with your forearm as a means of defense. In this position, its easier to twirl and move your Sais around in the way they are supposed to move.

How 2012 Raph is holding them is primarily the position the Sai takes during a counter. The way he’s holding them is also in general incorrect even in THAT position.

When you aim a Sai towards your attacker for a quick counter stab, you’re supposed to hold it like this because its easier to keep the momentum of the Sai going this way and gives you a steadier and controlled grip. You’re less likely to drop it. You can still hold it by the handle, but its NEVER for a starting position.

This in general is just bad to see. He, like the rest of his siblings, are literally supposed to be close to master level and the fact he makes such beginner mistakes and is so aggressive about it is seriously irritating. he might as well be using salad tongs for how effectively they are used in the series.

Now just as a quick disclaimer, I am not an expert at the Sais and I haven't seen much of Raph past halfway through season 2 so he could be using them correctly later on and I could be incorrect on that side of analysis, but that doesn't mean his weapon of choice is practical.

3) 2012 Raph, and other iterations, weapon of choice is impractical

Yep, this is the main reason I dislike raph in 2012 as well as other versions. The Sai is practically useless in modern day street fighting like this especially with mutants and other random stuff.

Not everyone wields a sword or staff. There are projectiles, claws, and various other craziness out there that they have to deal with... Which is why the Tonfas are technically more practical in a fight!

The Tonfas are meant to do things in a similar fashion as the Sais but the skill and use are slightly different.

The whole point of them is to protect the forearm and add a little extra OMPH when you punch and guard. Not only that, but the way they are shaped adds a little extra length towards the top, so if you’re punching and normally might miss, it adds just a bit more length so you can make contact easier.

Not only that but you can spin the Tonfas and add more force to hit someone hard in the face. (We don’t really get to see Raph do these kinds of moves in Rise which is unfortunate but that’s fine.)

Because Tonfas are also always used in pairs, you can cross them like this to stop stronger blows.

They also are in general a better fit for Raph’s fighting style. Because Raph’s main focus is hand to hand combat and defense, having some extra protection for his arms, a slightly longer reach, and extra force behind hits can go a long way. He can still deflect swords and the Bo staff just as easily and without the overly aggressive appearance of the Sais getting in the way.

The fact that Rise Raph also uses Tonfas is a homage to the old TMNT comics where Raph never used Sais to begin with.

In comparison to the Sai, Tonfas are also a lot easier to animate and you can still do some crazy stuff with them. Overall they suit Raph’s personality far better as well and if we wanted to go deep into a character study aspect of weapon choice, later iterations of Raph using the Sai seems more like he’s weaponizing his aggression vs using his strength to protect.

And this concludes my analysis of the two weapons...

I hope this all makes sense and that I didn’t rush it at the end or anything, I might have forgotten a few things in regards to the Tonfas but all the stuff with the Sais should be there.

Thanks for reading! and I’ll link to the previous studies I did about Donnie and Mikey~ (if you have any questions my asks are open) 2012 TMNT Fight Incorrectly

2012 Donnie vs Rise Donnie

Rise Donnie Fighting Analysis

2012 Mikey vs Rise Mikey

#pen talks #analysis #fight choreography #tmnt #tmnt 2012 #rottmnt #riseofthetmnt #tmnt raph #weapons #im sorry I needed to rant about this because I personally dislike the weapon choice of the sai for raph #to clearify #raph is literally my second fav character and they did him dirty #enjoy!

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living-with-pmd · 3 years

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11 Women With PMDD Share What It's Really Like

Premenstrual dysphoric disorder is the evil cousin of PMS. They share the same types of symptoms—moodiness, increased hunger, cravings, fatigue, cramps, pain, brain fog, and depression, among others—but for PMDD sufferers, those symptoms get so bad they can cripple a woman's ability to lead a normal life.

While up to 85 percent of women get PMS, according to the US Department of Health, only about 5 percent of women experience PMDD, according to the American Journal of Psychiatry.

We asked women with PMDD what it's really like living with the disorder. Here are their stories:

"I was diagnosed with PMDD last summer. Six months prior to my diagnosis, I started taking a certain birth control and soon every month I was experiencing severe PMS issues. I am a generally happy person, but during those few days I was someone entirely different. I was extremely depressed and anxious, having much more frequent panic attacks, and was super sensitive and lonely. I was even suicidal, which was terrifying. And the worst part was I was convinced that I had always been this miserable, and that I would always be this miserable, and it was never going to change. It felt as if someone had completely burned out the light in me and all happiness and joy and hope was gone. I didn't make the connection that it was related to my period but thankfully a close friend did. I have since switched birth control, which helped a lot, and increased the dosage of my anti-anxiety and anti-depressant meds. Most importantly, I am aware of the way I feel those few days so I know to expect it, and I can logically remind myself that I will stop feeling that way soon. Looking back, I realize that I've probably always had pretty bad PMS or PMDD. The birth control worsened it but it was also causing a lot of issues I wasn't aware of previously as well." —Katherine H., 22, Edmonds, WA

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"PMDD is out of control. I cry really easily for about a week. My biggest issue is that I am convinced that I am failing at everything—being a wife, a mom, work projects, fitness, my whole life! And even though it feels so real I constantly have to question if my feelings are valid or if they are amplified by my cycle. I just set an alert in my phone to remind me to consider my hormones the next time I feel that way." —Krysten B., 32, Toronto, CA

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"A week before my period, I become a complete psycho, completely unlike myself. I'm tearful, want to eat everything that's sweet or salty, have absolutely no tolerance for anything other than perfection, and prefer to be left completely alone. I already take an antidepressant but my PMDD was a complete nightmare so my doctor gave me Prozac to take for just 10 days a month. Basically, I start it when I start to get that irrational feeling and keeping taking it until my period starts. And that's just the emotional stuff. On the physical side, I have debilitating cramps, backaches, and headaches that last for days. Yep. I'm a peach." —Kristen L., 40, Knoxville, TN

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"In the past, PMDD almost made me suicidal and totally broke my spirit. Yes it wasthat bad. Every month. Eventually I got tired of being a 'crazy PMS woman' and decided I needed to fix this. Since I don't like to take pharmaceuticals, I branched out to homeopathic remedies and I discovered St. John's Wort and essential oils, especially clary sage and Doterra Calm-Its. It's a lot better now but I still have my hard days." —Amy S., 43, Zebulon, NC

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"My PMDD got so bad I had to go to a psychiatrist and be put on Prozac along with another antidepressant I was already taking. I was a mess—anxious, crying randomly over the smallest thing, and eating everything in sight. One example is someone made a YouTube mashup of the Age of Ultron trailers with Pinocchio footage and the 'I've got no strings on me' song and that wrecked me for weeks. Every time I thought about scenes from Pinocchio I would start panicking and crying at my work desk. It's been a few years and I'm better now. I'm off birth control and weening myself off the Prozac. I notice a week before my period I will sob during any sad part in a movie or book I'm reading, and a day or two before, I notice I'm more likely to be anxious." —Kate W., 36, Alaska

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"This has impacted my ability to work effectively. My pet peeve is when people say 'it must be close to your time of the month' when they simply don't like what I'm saying. I have run into that problem a lot at previous jobs and it makes it really hard to be taken seriously. It's bullshit because my feelings are valid regardless and also PMDD is not a joke. I am so lucky now to have a male boss who understands but it wasn't always that way. I have also have found a lot of relief with naturopathic and herbal remedies." —Amalia F., 28, Vancouver, Canada

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"My PMS was tolerable until my second child was born and then everything went off the rails. I'd be looking forward to plans with others, happy, and then about 10 to 14 days before my flow would start, my mood would turn on a dime. I'd be horrible—crying, screaming that ~nobody understands~, just so much emotional pain. I'd basically lock myself up in the bedroom for a full day to cry, get angry, and feel sorry for myself. It took three doctors before I finally found one who would listen to me before I was finally diagnosed with PMDD. I took Prozac for three years for it but it made me feel numb, like a zombie and not like myself. So I quit and my family just deals with me now. As I've gotten closer to menopause the PMDD is not as bad, but can be very unpredictable due to hormonal swings from perimenopause. The worst part now is I feel like my friendships have suffered. I always seem to have episodes around major holidays and events and I end up bumming everyone out if I do show up so I end up staying home a lot." —Colleen T., 50, St. Paul, MN

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"I'm overly emotional for the week before my period. Saying that makes it sound like it's not that bad but I get so distraught that my fiance has actually scheduled it in his phone as 'blood sport' to remind himself what's coming. I'm thankful that he's patient because I also feel like everyone hates me that week, too." —Kenlie T., 36, New Orleans, LA

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"All month long I'm fine and feel even and calm and then suddenly, the week before my period, I can't handle even the tiniest little thing. My irritability goes through the roof (which is not great since I have a 5-year-old) and I feel like I have no friends. It really makes me sad." —Jessica S., 28, Broomfield, CO

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"I know my period is coming because all of a sudden all of my joints hurt, especially my knees and ankles. I also get crazy gnarly cramps and once I even had a cyst that ruptured while I was on a date and the guy had to take me to the hospital! It was so embarrassing. Thankfully my husband now is very understanding when this time rolls around each month. The worst part is people who just think I make this stuff up. Some months are better than others and sometimes the pain is completely debilitating! My emotions are also a rollercoaster. Anytime I see something cute or inspiring, I burst into tears." —Ivie C., 21, Rexburg, ID

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"My PMDD manifests in both mental and physical symptoms. From the time I got my period at age 12, I've had extreme cramps and heavy bleeding. I'd leak at school through a super maxi pad every class so I'd tie sweatshirts around my waist and have to scrub my clothes when I got home. It was super humiliating. I'd have to take six to eight ibuprofen at a time to deal with cramps, and if I didn't I'd end up on the floor sweating like I had the flu. Sometimes I'd even throw up. This meant I ended up spending a lot of time sick in bathrooms and knew where every restroom was at all times. Birth control helped manage the PMDD and other issues, but as soon as I was done having kids, I had a hysterectomy. That was the best thing I've ever done." —Mandy P., 39, Mendon, UT

https://www.womenshealthmag.com/health/a19972132/premenstrual-dysphoric-disorder/

#premenstrual dysphoric disorder #PMDD #pmdd awareness #living with pmdd #actually pmdd #mental health awareness #mental health #women's health #pms #premenstrual syndrome #afab problems

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em0avacado · 3 years

Text

They say

( Coco Cruz x Reader )

a/n : this is how i cope, don’t mind me, i’m just breaking my own heart.

trigger warnings : none i don’t think? except heart break, sadness. ends happy tho. i think. maybe.

word count : 2.4k

They say that, if you love something, let it go. If it comes back, it was meant to be, if it doesn’t? well you just couldn’t accept that. You’d poured every ounce of yourself into him, you’d told him all your fears, all your pet peeves, all your insecurities, because you trusted him. You’d accepted all his weird quirks, all the strange habits he had that you looked past, youd accepted him for who he was, as you do when you love someone as much as you loved him. You supported him, mentally and physically, from up close and from far away. You encouraged him, reminded him of little things he easily forgot, you told him every day how proud you were of him, how loved and appreciated he was.

He used to do the same for you, used to. But at some point, he began holding back, he stopped doing things he started doing to win you over. You used to have a list of pet names hed call you when he babied you, now it was just ‘baby’ if he was in a good mood, or [Y/N]. You noticed it as soon as it started, you noticed everything. You knew he was stressed so you didn’t want to push it, but you also know that “stressed” was a norm for Coco, so you couldn’t wrap your head around it entirely. He started coming home later, crashing on the couch in hopes of “not disturbing your sleep.” it sounded like an excuse to you, and it hurt. it really fucking hurt you.

At some point, you’d had enough of your boyfriend distancing himself like that, ignoring your feelings, ditching you when you needed him, you couldn’t live that way, you wouldn’t. So, when he came home, you’d waited up for him, sitting at the small kitchen table you both used to enjoy your breakfast on every Sunday, now it stood empty, with nothing but a stack of newspapers from the passing weeks piled on it. With a bit of liquid courage crashing against the rocks of ice as you swirled the brown liquid around in the cup, your eyes felt red with fire, and your cheeks were stained with few dried tears that rolled down your face as your mind came up with the worst possible results you could imagine, all to which, came true. With a jingle of his keys in the lock, you straightened your posture, looking at him.

“What’re you doing up?” he asked her, that same vacant look on his face.

“I wanted to talk”

“it can wait till morning.”

“it really can’t.” with that, she was met with utter annoyance, and an obnoxious scoff that made her blood boil.

“go on then.”

“you’ve distanced yourself, so hard. I barely see you. We don’t sleep in the same bed, I can’t remember the last time you touched me, hell, even looked at me like you used to. What’d I do?” that was your go to, blaming yourself. It’s how you dealt with the unexplained.

“Get off my ass, [Y/N].” He dismissed you, you watched as he pulled off his kutte, and settled into the couch. You kept your eyes on him, murder on your mind. God he irritated you, you wanted to take his neck between your hands and wring it. Maybe that’d breathe some sense into him, if you deprived him of oxygen a little. But you didn’t need another felony charge, you inhaled deeply, balling your fists, the sting of your nails digging into the palm of your hand bringing you back from picturing all the ways you’d brutally murder him, out of love, of course.

If you loved someone... you’d refrain from strangling them, you turned from the spot you stood, and headed into the bedroom. You did the breathing exercises your therapist had taught you, but they worked only slightly. You grabbed a duffel bag, and started shoving clothing into it, as much as you could, you pushed all the belongings you’d need the next few days, and zipped it up. Pulling on a hoodie, you tossed the bag over your shoulder, and headed out. You walked passed him without a word, when you went to grab your car keys, you did the only petty thing you’d let yourself, trying to be the better person, you hid every single key to everything you had, knowing how easily he lost keys, you’d help him, in your own favour, however.

You left, and you didn’t look back. You couldn’t. The mere thought of Coco made you tear up, and it didn’t help that every tiny thing made you think about the lost love that still caused your chest to feel like it was about to concave. This wasn’t natural, you hadn’t felt like this, you were the queen of bottling up emotions, and ignoring them so you didn’t feel the pain of anything. But as you lived and breathed, everything reminded you of him.

You were in the middle of a girls lunch date, it’d been weeks since your seen your girlfriends since you’ve been trying to isolate yourself trying to get over this man, in the midst of drinking mimosas on the balcony of one of those entirely too fancy restaurants, you were laughing at highschool memories of your best friend who would start fights in the halls because she was bored, it was then, when a roar of motorcycles sped past where you were sitting, and it threw you into a whirl wind of emotions.

“make sure you hold on tight, mamas. Wouldnt want you to fall off.” the smirk heard in Coco’s voice sent a chill down your spine, being too intimidated by any sort of physical contact, usually, you usually ease yourself into it, but with Coco? It was brash and sudden, he started the bike, and gave you maybe a millisecond to grab a hold on him.

A little squeal forced its way out of your mouth as you quickly grabbed onto him, gripping onto your own hands, clinging to him. You buried your face in his shoulder. You felt him chuckle, and wanted to knock him out right then and there, but perhaps that wasn’t the best idea. It took you a moment, but once you opened your eyes, and watched as buildings, cars, people, hills and piles of dirt passed you by, trees whipping by. You felt yourself calm, you felt at peace. The wind flipped through your locks of hair, his scent filling your senses.

“This isn’t that bad.” you heard yourself admit in a soft mumble, you shut your eyes and felt the wind attack your face, balancing your inner battles with yourself. You felt peace in Coco, he tamed your chaos, and you his. God, what you’d give to feel like this all the time, but you only felt it with him.

You felt your throat burn, your bottom lip lodged itself between your teeth, and you did your best to fight the rage that tinged your eyes with tears. Your friends saw this, noticing immediately, the emotion that washed over your face, paling your features and dimming a smile that brought them laughter that lasted for days. You’d always been the group clown, with the loudest laugh, the brightest smiles, you were the one they’d all turn to when they couldn’t hold themselves up. You were a force to be reckoned with, you fought their battles when they couldn’t even hold themselves up. You never failed to show up with booze and ice cream to heal broken hearts. You brought things that made you think of friends, you remembered the finest details and came through every time. You listened to the quietest ones, heard every story, laughed at the lamest jokes. Seeing you with tears streaming involuntarily down your face as you tried to hide it, wiping them as fast as they came, it broke their collective hearts. They looked at one another, an unspoken question “how do you skip to the part of the storm that sprouts the flowers when the rain stops?”

Your relationship with sleep was toxic, it came and went as it pleased, your eyes were sunken, it was three A.M. and you felt your thoughts running through your mind a million miles a minute. Your head in your hands as another memory floated to the surface.

Panic overwhelmed you, hearing something, or someone, rustling around the kitchen, you grabbed the gun you kept tucked under your mattress. You cocked it, and took the safety off, holding it out in front of you in a defensive position. You opened your creaking door, the noise working at your nerves as you creeped into the kitchen where the only thing that illuminated the dark room was the bulb from the old white fridge. You watched silently as the head ducked from inside the fridge, you found it peculiar, but all you saw was a figure in your home you didn’t know. Getting closer, you held the barrel of the gun to the head of the man that stood in your kitchen.

“Hands up, Foo. Before I blow your brains all over my backsplash.” You threatened, your voice tense, and you were met with laughter that was all too familiar. Furrowing your brows, you were still panicked, not thinking straight. You shifted the gun so the bullet that was about to fly, only ripped through his hair. The shot rang loud, causing Coco, who you didn’t know was Coco, to crash to the ground.

“Crazy bitch!” he shouted, you flicked on the light, still having the gun pointed at him. Your eyes widened quickly, the man on your floor was Coco, and now there was a bullet lodged into your ceiling. You could kiss your security deposit goodbye, fuck, and you just shot at Coco. You put the safety back on, and set it on your counter before going to help him. A few minutes passed before both of you sat in fits of laughter, him mocking your voice, your words.

Coco told you so many times that the night you nearly shot him in the head, was the night he fell for you entirely. Sure, he’d known you were the one way before that. That night, though, he knew he was in love with you. That night he swore he’d break past your barriers, he’d demolish how you saw yourself, he taught you to love you, he made you promises to show you love like no other, and to show you that you didn’t have to be afraid of either physical and emotional aspects of love. He did do exactly that, but then ripped it away from her. Leaving her heart with him, and her chest feeling heavy with nothing. Once again tears were brought to your eyes, you were thankful for his love, but without it? you wished you’d never had experienced it in the first place. Maybe you wouldn’t be hurting now.

You were brought out of your train of thought by the knocking on your door, furrowing your brows, you got up from your spot on the counter, where you were thinking of better times, you looked through the peephole and it felt like someone took a vacuum to your weak lungs. Coco. Struggling to breathe proper, you just intended on ignoring him, it was the first time in months youd seen him and you didn’t know if you could handle it. Your heart screamed at you to let him in, he looked beat up, tired, and one of his eyes was bandaged up, he looked broken. you wanted to embrace him, forget the distance, but your mind scolded you, reminding you of the progress youd made, bouncing back from the pain oh so slowly. This could set it all back. So you decided, you wouldn’t open the door. He’s a big boy. You silently turn on your heel, away from the door.

“I’m sorry.” you heard him rasp, and you froze in your spot, a deer caught in headlights. You couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. “I know you’re there, I know you’re awake and I know you know it’s me. You have your kitchen light on, so I saw you stand on your toes to look through the peephole because you’re too short.” you cursed his observant ways, how well he knew you, like he had quirk notes tattooed on the back of his hand and read them like a bible. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice when you left, that I was too deep in my own world to see how me fading away for my own selfish needs was hurting you. I’m sorry I made it seem like I didn’t care, that it hurt you, I’m sorry that I made promises and broke them. I started thinking about things I never knew I wanted until you marched your stubborn self in my life and gave me a taste of a love that changed me. It scared the fuck out of me.”

That familiar burn of emotion lit up your head, and singed your chest. You let his words sink in, you couldn’t speak, not yet. Squeezing shut your eyes, you turned back to the door, setting your hand on the knob. You felt the door shift, like he’d gotten up from leaning his head against the poorly tinted wood. He got it, you could feel him prepare to walk away. If you love something, let it go. But Coco came back. He came back. You unlocked it, and turned the knob. Looking at him through sore eyes. “Running when you’re scared isn’t an option for me.” you said, defeat obvious in your voice. He stopped, turned to you and closed in quick. You pushed his hands away. “You can’t - You can’t just show me, tell me, and hold it to me that i shouldn’t shut you out, and i should trust you, and i should turn to you before anyone and anything else only to turn around and do that to me. You can’t do that and come running back.” you practically yelled at him, your voice shaking and raw.

“I know, I know I’m sorry.” he said, his hands dropping to his sides when you reached forward and yanked him in with all your might. The gesture was aggressive, sure. But pure.

“i’m sorry too.” you muttered, embracing him tightly.

—

tag list :

@queenbeered

@mayans-sauce

#coco x reader #coco cruz #mayans fanfic #mayans mc #fanfic #richard cabral

88 notes · View notes

fyrapartnersearch · 4 years

Text

|| 𝕮𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖑𝖎𝖙𝖙𝖑𝖊 𝖗𝖔𝖑𝖊𝖕𝖑𝖆𝖞𝖊𝖗𝖘 ||

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𝐼'𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝑒 𝒶𝓌𝒶𝓎…

𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑜 𝒶 𝓁𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝑒𝓃𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓃𝓉𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉…

 haha ^^

 To all the curious ladies and gents out here, you may call me Imp.

Short, sweet and straight to the point. ;)   I am a lady in her twenties, with a strong penchant for roleplaying, writing, and drawing. The Holy Trinity if you will. I am a huge nerd and aesthetic lover boy - plain and simple. One of my main passions being video-games, illustrations, comics, live-action films, series and anime/cartoon shows, elements that shaped me during my years of growing up.

  It’s been a while since I’ve posted my first ever ad on any website, and I was very much positively surprised by the amazing people that have reached out to me.

And since I am a greedy little mf, I wanted to fish for more partners. I’ve been roleplaying for a few years now and gradually gathered a good amount of experience throughout the years, but it’s always fun to meet and learn something new.

   Name: Imp  

Age: 27 years

  Experience: 11 years  

Preferences: 1:1 Roleplaying

  Partner: Should be at least [18+], but I rather much prefer my counterpart to be 21 years or older   

EMAIL: [email protected]

I am a very creative sort of individual with hundreds of ideas constantly occupying my little impish head. And I am very spontaneous too, so I can always adjust to a new setting, depending on how good and compelling the concept is.  Inspirations come from various sources and origins, be it a fandom (an already existing universe) or an original storyline. Please read through these paragraphs carefully before you decide to contact me! It’s important to avoid any misunderstanding later! And I would less likely respond to a message with the title ‘Hey, wanna rp?’, since I hadn’t had any good experiences with these said messages. Thank you.    °°°·.°·..·°¯°·._.· ☥ ·._.·°¯°·.·° .·°°° °°°·.°·..·°¯°·._.· ☥ ·._.·°¯°·.·° .·°°°

   Communication: It’s certainly chill. You can talk to me about whatever occupies your mind since I am very open and always happy to listen to others. I also tend to be chatty, sharing a meme or a joke every now and to loosen up the mood. If you consider choosing me as your roleplaying partner, be sure to maintain a certain consistency. I have nothing against going on a longer break or even a hiatus, but the whole `ghosting stick´ is something I have no patience for. So if you’re unsure of upholding a stable, long term partnership, feel free to skim past this ad.    Plotting: Also very important to note! I am fairly quick when it comes to building new characters, concepts, premises, storylines, backstories, etc… This means there is certain flexibility available which allows me to adjust. Even though it is a hobby, I am still extremely passionate about good storytelling and interesting character arcs. I hope to meet someone who is just as enthusiastic and willing to put in the same amount of effort as I am. If it’s only me who’s pulling all the weight, I will lose interest fast, just to get it out there. Aside from that, I love going a little crazy with the possibilities and push things to their absolute limits. Of course within the boundaries of the given setting.   Pairing & Romance: Okay, right off the bat, I am a hopeless romantic through and through. I enjoy good and strong chemistry between characters just as much as the next, and this will be no exception. I prefer the good ol’ MxF pairing because I have more experience with this. But I also like playing a FxF dynamic or MxM. Everyone is welcome! When it comes to pairing itself, I want to make sure our creations are compatible, for I hate forcing characters into a romantic relationship for the sake of progression. A natural flow is what I am aiming for. ;)   Mature? Yes, very much so: Adult and taboo topics are absolute. There’s no way around it because, in my stories, it is a running theme. The adult world is not easy to handle, but it’s definitely interesting to explore. That includes violence, cursing, shocking content, and all that dark stuff. My limits are few, safe for a couple of minor pet peeves that I have, I am pretty much open to some experimentation. When it comes to action-heavy scenes (be it an intimate situation between two characters or something on a cataclysmic scale), I won’t fade to black since I am not a huge fan of censoring. However, I will not force or push my partner into something they are not comfortable with. If you want to know the extent to how far I am willing to go, what sort of content or how detailed my writing will be, you can ask me directly. As for smut or lemons, whatever you call it, it will never be the focus of any of my roleplays, but I enjoy a good erotic scene with a lot of tension (if they are good).    Boundaries: Not a big fan of things like pedophilia, necrophilia, scat, bestiality, or those dreaded ‘futas’.  Inspirations and interests: There’s a pretty broad spectrum of what I deem interesting and inspirational. From fallen angels and demon/monster hunters, mages, criminal masterminds, cybernetically enhanced characters to futuristic dystopian settings, ancient kingdoms who have fallen against the test of time. All of it causes my heart to skip a beat. For original content, I’ll just give a brief list of bullet points of the general themes that fall in line with my current interests.   Writing: My texts are lengthy, detailed, and elaborate. Third-person is usually my preferred way of playing my character unless there’s a special case where an exception can be made. Word count usually fluctuates, though I have a standard form of 400-500+ words per response. It also highly depends on the given situation. I don’t want to set anything in stone… just to give you a basic idea of what you’re in for. I also expect my partner to have an at least adequate, if not decent grasp on basic grammar and punctuation.    Doubling: Yes, absolutely! If you are prone to doubling, chances are I might accept you as my partner straight away! Although I have nothing against the simple form of roleplaying, doubling is something I’ve done since my first time joining.    Characters: Very character-driven with the main focus being on interaction. I take my time writing characters and love nothing more than well-structured sheets that illustrate the vision of their creator. (But!) There’s no need to write 10-20 pages worth of character information, but I wouldn’t want to limit you either. As for the depiction of the given character, I won’t be as presumptuous as to tell you what sort of medium you can and cannot use. Face claims such as photos of real models, illustrations, 3D models, drawings or descriptions are all okay. As long as it gets its point across, I am happy.   Aversions: A few minor things that irritate me, or let’s say, aren’t really my style are one-liners, low effort responses and out of character behaviors in canon characters. We all have different takes on characters, which is totally fine by me since I basically do the same. Though if the character acts and behaves unlike their personality dictates, it will break the immersion. I hope to stay true to my own words when saying this. If it happens on my side, just let me know! Another pet peeve of mine is that one plot that has been done time and time again…. and I’ve grown quite jaded towards it, which is ‘supernaturals trying to fit into human society’ thing… I mean, I’m not opposed to borrowing from this idea, but for me, it grew old pretty fast. Speaking from experience.   Passione: My wish is to find a partner whom I can have a good time with and develop some chemistry. After all it is a fun hobby. We both should have fun with what we’re writing. Brainstorming among other things is one of my favorite things to do. To see how things unfold and how the characters react to the given situation is the highlight of any story.

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FANDOM:

  I love roleplaying fandoms just as much as I have a blast with building something original universes. Worldbuilding is my preferred cup of tea… but if we opt for something more fandom inspired, I highly welcome in on expanding on the given universe and add some original lore too!

Hellsing: Haven’t done that one before and I am curious as to how things play out, especially in such a dark and mystifying universe like Hellsing. There’s a lot of subject matter that we can delve into, plus I am a big fan of powerful vampire characters!

Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure: I would love you for this. No, seriously, I would. This fandom has sucked me into a downward spiral and there’s no possible chance of escaping this inescapable void. The absolute insanity of this franchise had me hooked from the second I laid eyes on it and I would be forever ecstatic if you’d message me on behalf of roleplaying Jojo. I have plenty of ideas for this one, just you wait.

Full Metal Alchemist: One of my favorite mangas and animes ever made. Recently I’ve begun rewatching FMA Brotherhood and felt a small hint of nostalgia swelling inside my blackened heart. I’d be open to play it, though it is not one of my top cravings at the moment.

Justice League / Young Justice / Justice League Dark: Huge DC fan, though I much prefer the animations and comics over the live-action cinematic. Let’s just say, I like the expansive and dynamic set of possibilities and deep, well-written cast. For instance Hellblazer Constantine or Raven.

Bayonetta: Need I say more? Let’s dance boys!

APH Hetalia: That includes the 2P version ;)

The Boys: Well.. the 2nd season came out. And I am simply stoked.

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ORIGINAL:   

Supernatural: From angels to demons, from gods to monsters, I’ve seen it all and I absolutely love it. There can be any sort of creature or being involved, ranging from vampires to sirens to elves, you have it. However, I’ve never done something quite relating to angelic beings and their offspring before. I’ve read up on Nephilim and angels and found it rather fascinating, and it’s a different approach from the usual vampire vs werewolf cliche.  

Crime and intrigue: I never stray too far from the supernatural path, but hell, there’s nothing better than some good old gritty mafia inspired stories with a complex cast of characters and a solid storyline.

Sci-fi and urban fantasy: So this could be basically anything from genetically engineered superhuman (superheroes / - villains) with a dark take on the human psyche, dismantling the idea of heroism and villainy. Or a world where mankind began their interstellar journey to colonize neighboring planets, galaxies before transcending their own humanity by merging themselves with deadly technology. I have a few plans for this…

Historical and mysterious setting: So one of my favorite eras is the Victorian time period, 30s - 40s - 80s, Renaissance or Ancient times during the rise of the Egyptian / Roman / Sumerian Empire. During these times, a dark discovery was made by man, learning that they were not alone in this world. In fact, they weren’t even the supreme race that destined themselves to dominate the world, for another race of humanoids have lied dormant deep beneath the earth, slumbering through the millennia only to be re-awakened by a cataclysmic event. These ancient humanoids are gods among men, superior in every way imaginable, and they have made it their mission to reclaim their right to rule. But their nature is not what most people think it is…

The idea: I have an idea for a plot, in which I can give you if you ask for it. It is however merely a suggestion for what we could write - not a mandatory thing. If you don’t like the idea, we can always figure stuff out and keep on home-brewing till we find something we both can enjoy. There’s no need to immediately end things if the first thing doesn’t really fire you up.

  °°°·.°·..·°¯°·._.· ☥ ·._.·°¯°·.·° .·°°° °°°·.°·..·°¯°·._.· ☥ ·._.·°¯°·.·° .·°°°    If you’re still here and haven’t fallen asleep reading through my loooong paragraphs, then I would like to thank you for bearing with me this far. I am looking forward to your messages.   Have a wonderful day!

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amandaoftherosemire · 5 years

Text

A Lost Hour

Fandom: Marvel Avengers AU

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff X Reader

Characters: Natasha Romanoff, Steve Rogers

Author: @amandaoftherosemire

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 2,807

Format: One-shot

Warning: Language, fluff, implied smut

Summary: On a mission alone with Natasha Romanoff, you try to keep from annoying her as you hide how much you adore her.

A/N: Written for @buckysforeverprincess’ Hop Into Spring 3K Challenge. Congratulations on 3000, darling!! You’re amazing and you deserve all the love and adoration! My prompt was “Don’t forget daylight savings.” Writing reader inserts is like exercising my brain (second person is not second nature, that’s for damn sure) because I like to make them as neutral as I can. Except, since I’m female, I tend to write from that perspective, which means that all of my reader inserts have been fem!reader. This time, I wanted to stretch my brain in a new direction, so I wrote as neutral as possible, including gender. Please feel free to let me know what you think, including ways I failed. I’m always trying to do better and learn more, so I’m absolutely open to criticism.

A Lost Hour

Natasha watched you out of her peripheral vision from across the motel room. You were standing at the other queen bed unpacking, laying out everything you’d need for the mission the next day, your movements brisk, economical, and lethally efficient for all you were humming what sounded like ‘Hollaback Girl’. Nat appreciated that when it came to the work, you were a silent, stone-cold professional. She would put you at her back any day of the week, her highest compliment.

That said, when you weren’t actively on a mission, you never seemed to stop making noise. If you weren’t talking, and somehow you never ran out of things to talk about, you were humming, singing, muttering, laughing, or just making weird noises with your mouth. If she was the sort who gave in to such things, you could have her literally climbing the walls like the spider for which she was named.

To be fair, it wasn’t that the noises were in reality all that irritating. No one else seemed to notice, for instance. If she was being honest, she wouldn't classify the sounds you made as irritating at all, really. What drove her crazy was that they made it impossible for Natasha to ignore you, though she'd never had that problem before.

She couldn’t quite put her finger on what made you so compelling to her. It wasn’t your looks, though she thought you incredibly attractive. That would never have been enough to capture her attention on its own, however. She’d used her own for both good and evil often enough to know how little beauty truly counted. The fair of face couldn’t catch her eye.

Though she most often pretended to ignore you, sometimes she put on that she found you annoying in order to insist that you be quiet. As a matter of fact, she found your voice, the sounds you made, too appealing. She had to concentrate to tune you out, her ear seeming to naturally tune itself to the timbre of your voice.

She also found your little rants funny, though she groaned as loudly as anyone when you started in on one. You had any number of random little pet peeves and there was no way to know when someone might inadvertently step into one in the course of normal conversation. When you got going, however, was when she found it most difficult to resist the urge to kiss that chattering mouth. Lately, it had only gotten worse.

Because though she could see that you found her physically attractive, she was almost certain you didn't really like her. She was painfully attuned to the tone of your voice and could hear it was often a touch colder when you spoke to her than when you spoke to any other member of the team. You were warm and pleasant with everyone, so it wasn't as though you were mean or rude even then; only Natasha would ever notice the difference.

She refused to let it bother her, but it made it easy to pretend she didn't like you right back.

Once she'd finished the double-check that she had what she needed for the mission in the morning, she repacked everything as it had gone in except for her night clothes and her toiletries bag. You had long since moved on to flipping through the channels, your preparations for the mission less meticulous than hers, though you were hardly sloppy or haphazard. You were still humming under your breath, but you were unusually quiet and she was having a hard time placing the melody.

You were watching Natasha out of the corner of your eye, trying to keep the humming to a minimum. You knew it drove her crazy and you were trying not to irritate her on this mission. You'd been half in love with her almost since you met her. You hated that you annoyed her, but you also couldn't change who you were, so you tried to stay as quiet as possible when she was around.

You'd hotly anticipated and deeply dreaded this mission. Any time you spent with Natasha was nerve-wracking, but an overnight mission, just the two of you sharing a motel room seemed like a recipe for disaster. Disaster for you, at least. You doubted Natasha would even notice you unless you irritated her by talking or humming too much, or if you fucked up your part of the plan.

You, on the other hand, were going to spend the next 24 hours on pins and needles, trying not to give away how absolutely magnificent you thought she was. Sometimes you went too far in the opposite direction, but it was better than her knowing you spent most of your time in her presence internally sighing dreamily

Obviously, she was beautiful. You had eyes; you could see she was gorgeous. You were no more immune to her appeal than the next person. That said, it was her strength that you found most captivating. In addition, you respected her competence and efficiency and you had a nice healthy fear of her lethality. You weren't frightened of her, but like a razor-sharp blade, you didn't take her bite lightly. Her capacity for loyalty had surprised you, but only until you got to know her. Her humor charmed you, made you wish you didn't annoy her because you found her hilarious.

Of all the things about her that made you wish you could at least be friends, however, it was the sweetness laying close to her bones. She hid it well but, where she cared, she was kind and deeply loving in her own quiet way. On more than one occasion, you'd had to start ranting about something stupid to cover for the puppy-dog-eyes you'd been giving her.

When she settled onto her bed with her tablet and a bottle of water, you spoke softly. "Do you want to pick?" you asked as you offered her the remote. "If you leave it up to me, I'll end up watching the crokinole championships on ESPN Twelve like a lunatic."

Natasha frowned a little and lifted puzzled eyes to yours. "What in the world is crokinole?"

You laughed and flipped back to the channel airing the niche game's championship. "Fuck if I know," you replied and settled back against the pillows with a grin, "but in about twenty minutes I bet I'm going to have a whole lot of opinions on technique and strategy."

A half an hour later, both you and Natasha were watching the classic dexterity game with rapt attention, discussing the ongoing bracket as though you'd been following the game for years. You'd looked up the rules on your phone, not that you really needed to. The point of the game was absolutely clear once you'd watched for even just a few minutes, but the Wikipedia page clarified some scoring questions the two of you had.

"Oops, he left a hanger," you were saying as Natasha's phone rang, Steve's number lighting up the screen. You snickered when you saw the picture she'd used for him; it was some promotional shot from the 40s when he was being used to sell war bonds and he had the dumbest cheesy grin on his face.

You loved that she teased Steve in this way, taking potshots at the public persona, the piece of propaganda rather than the private man or the real symbolism of the shield. Steve was one of those she cared about; you always enjoyed watching their dynamic at play.

“If he can pick up the twenty and knock the other guy’s puck into the gutter, I think he’s won it,” she replied as she swiped the screen. She’d gotten as into the game as you had, the two of you finally bonding a little. She didn't notice because she was answering the phone, but you were caught in full-blown puppy-dog-eyes mode.

You sat in silence, watching her smirk at Steve and assure him that she had things well in hand while you grinned at her like exactly what you were, a moron with a desperate crush.

“You’re on speaker if you’ve got anything to tell us both,” Natasha turned to focus on you as she hit the button on the screen. Her eyes met yours, warm and full of fun, then rounded ever so slightly in surprise at the lovesick smile on your face. For the first time, she wasn’t seeing any coolness or reserve in your eyes and she wanted it to never stop. She smiled timidly back at you.

“Just stay safe, watch each other’s backs, and don’t forget about daylight savings.” Steve’s voice snapped you out of it, made you aware you were being stupidly obvious in the way you were staring at Natasha. The smile on her face was almost shy and sweet and was making your heart gallop like a thoroughbred. You latched on to the last thing Steve said like a lifeline.

“Ugh! I hate daylight savings!” You fell backward onto the bed with a groan of annoyance, partly to be dramatic, but mostly to stop looking at Natasha. “Especially Spring forward. You know the whole thing’s pointless, right? It doesn’t even do what it’s supposed to, and some think it’s actively detrimental. But no, we keep doing it because we’re stup—"

“I’m on it, Cap,” Natasha cut you off with a good-natured chuckle as she got up to sit next to you on your bed. She patted your knee affectionately as she finished the phone call and hung up. You propped yourself up on your elbows and watched her, nervous but oddly excited.

Natasha had never been this friendly before.

“I thought you didn’t like me,” she said quietly. This evening with you, learning the intricacies of a game neither of you had heard of before, had seduced her in ways she’d never thought to expect, let alone guard against. The uncomplicated adoration she’d seen on your face as you looked at her gave her the confidence to speak bluntly.

“No!" you cried, distressed that you'd made her think so when you thought so highly of her. You gave her a sheepish smile and ducked your head. "I know I can be annoying,” you said, wrinkling your nose. “I don’t want to irritate you by scampering after you.”

Her mouth curved and her eyelids lowered in an expression both earthy and ethereal. Your heart skipped and you knew you were in way over your head. “You’re not irritating or annoying,” she said. When doubt flickered across your face, she felt a pang of remorse. “You’re distracting,” she murmured.

“Distracting?" You frowned a little, not sure if that was a compliment or not. "Is that good or bad?” you asked, a little breathless. The look on her face was making your heart race.

“Well," she said softly, and leaned in ever so slightly. You were painfully aware of every movement she made, and your breath caught in response. "That depends." You had seen her flirt for work; this was nothing like that. Her eyes were direct, her body language straightforward, and you would swear that she was trying to be as honest as she could.

"On?" you prompted and sat up. You and she were face to face now, but neither of you moved, though you were both practically holding your breath in anticipation.

The corner of her mouth lifted in the slightest of smiles, your eyes following the movement with meticulous care as you waited for her next words with a heart pounding in desperate hope. "On if I'm trying to ignore you," she replied, her smile spreading and her eyes turning surprisingly shy. "I tend to ignore that which I don't think I can have. Or whom."

Her eyes seemed to sear into yours, the dreamy green going sharp as jade. You shifted forward a fraction of an inch, your hand twitching towards hers before you stopped it, terrified to overstep and fuck up this exhilarating conversation. "And I don't know how to shut up, especially when I'm nervous."

Natasha wasn't smiling now, but you had absolutely no idea what she was thinking, her expression inscrutable. "I make you nervous?"

You gave a quick, disbelieving laugh. "Have you met you?" You didn't know why, because she hadn't moved, but you started to feel like she was leaning away from you. You kept talking, because you were terrified you were fucking this up, and you always talked too much when freaked out. "Between your strength and skill, oof, and your mind, you'd be the most intimidating woman on the planet. Add in the humor on top of everything else and you're spectacular. I'm astonished whenever I manage not to babble."

By the time you managed to shut yourself up, she was smiling again. You didn't know it, but she had thought you were going to start yammering on about her physical appearance and nothing was more likely to make her dismiss someone as not worth her time. Marks underestimated her because of her looks; she didn't waste her real self on marks. Instead, you were charming her with your chattering about how intimidating you found her, not her face. "So, you're telling me I don't need to ignore you."

"Not if you don't want to," you said, making her smile wider with your earnestness. You went on, shy yourself this time. "And if you don't mind if I babble."

Wasn't this a pleasant surprise? she thought. The discovery that you found her as appealing as she found you was the best thing she'd learned in a while. She decided to live a little and tell you the whole truth. "When you babble, it makes me want to kiss you."

Your eyes popped open and your mouth spread in a wide smile. You didn't know what had led to your good fortune, but you weren't going to question it. You licked your lips and your heart kicked when her eyes followed the movement. "Even when I babble about something stupid, like daylight savings?" you asked, audibly breathless.

She smirked a little. This time it was she who eased forward a little, causing you to sway toward her without thinking. She was close enough now that you could see the flecks of gold in her eyes and her mouth was close enough that you imagined you could feel her breath on your skin. That tempting mouth curved in amusement. "Especially when you babble about something stupid like daylight savings.”

"People think it's for farmers," you immediately launched into anything you could remember about why daylight savings sucks and is stupid, but you were barely thinking about the words coming out of your mouth, "but that doesn't make sense in a modern era with electric ligh--"

Natasha laughed, which had you slowing down, delighted to make her laugh out loud for the first time. She'd tell you later that she laughed internally at the things you said all the time. For now, you were simply enthralled at the sound of her laugh when you inspired it.

You didn't stop talking, however, until she took your face in her hands and stopped your words with a soft, almost tentative kiss. Slowly, gently, you slid your arms around her, pulling her close as she melted against you. She slid her arms around you in turn, enchanted by the soft generosity she found in your mouth, in your arms.

A long time later, she pulled away reluctantly, only to sink back in with a chuckle at the misty-eyed look of awed adoration you gave her. Silent and smiling, you'd been struck speechless and so opted to let her have her way, happy to follow where she led.

The next morning at 5:00 AM, according to the phone buzzing next to the bed, and 4:00 AM according to your body, Natasha leaned across you to turn off the alarm. When it was quiet in the impersonal dark of the motel room once more, she snuggled back down under the covers, her arm sliding around your waist as she rested her head on your shoulder. You smiled at the ceiling, delighted by the sunset cloud currently tickling your nose.

"You're right. I hate daylight savings," she murmured.

"See!" you whispered hotly as you cuddled close, delirious at the feel of her satin skin sliding against yours and incensed that you were going to have to give it up soon. "If not for daylight savings I’d get to spend another hour in bed with you. It's fucking stupid." That was as far as you got before Nat was rising over you in the dark to press her mouth against yours again.

For the first time in either of your careers, you nearly missed a mission because of daylight savings.

The End

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willandlyra · 7 years

Text

no one would know the sound of a ghost

in which nico hates his neighbours until one of them shows up at his door claiming his apartment is haunted, and he requires a partner in ghost busting.

word count: 5228

read on ao3

Nico, so far, has not had much contact with his new neighbour, dubbed currently as ‘Will from next door’ and that’s exactly how he likes it.

Their current encounters start and end with the following:

1. Will moving in just as Nico leaves for work. Headphones in. Minding his own business. His eyes accidentally meet in the lift with who he assumes is the guy moving in from the impractical amounts of boxes he’s holding. Will says, with too much enthusiasm for nine in the morning, “hi! I’m Will”. Nico smiles, and doesn’t say anything because he can’t remember how to formulate words.

2. Later in the same day. Will still transporting a couple of boxes of things when Nico returns home a few hours later. He actually manages to introduce himself this time. Will drops one of said boxes on Nico’s foot. Great start.

It’s nothing personal to Will, despite his early morning enthusiasm that one time and the fact that Nico actually yelped quite embarrassingly in a very public hallway when half of Will’s possessions collided with his toes. Or – that might have a tiny bit to do with it, but truthfully, Nico doesn’t really care for any of his neighbours.

Not because he doesn’t like them, per say. The ‘nothing personal’ title carries on from Will and is shared between the entirety of his apartment building. The fact is, they’re his neighbours. On principle, no one likes their neighbours. Neighbours are 90% of the time annoying and nosy and invasive. They’re too loud – the guy living in no.196 before Will was always playing his music at an unforgivable volume for three am, and Nico supposes the mistrust has carried.

Some of his neighbours are sweet, sure. Mrs Anderson opposite says hello with a sweet smile every time she encounters him in the hall or lift. She’s approaching eighty-one, and is under the impression that his name is ‘Dave’, but it’s the thought that counts. Piper across the hall is very nice, if not… over enthusiastic, and he supposes if she wasn’t his neighbour, she’d be his friend. As it happens, she is his neighbour, and he has to hear her loudly singing when she leaves her apartment for work every morning. Nice.

That’s a problem with neighbours: you know bits and pieces about them and their lives and their characters, but not enough to know them as people. You get to know all of their crazy and their ugly when you’re listening to mini soap operas through the thin walls dividing your homes, and you accidentally spy upon their irritating habits, and catch them at bad moments, and see all the sides of a person they wouldn’t reveal to a stranger on the street, by pure accident.

That’s all you see though. Some of them are friendly, and they aren’t shy about it, and waves and smiles and greetings are exchanged in the hallways but you don’t know them well enough to find a redeeming quality for all of the pet peeve criterias they fill.

His neighbours have all kinds of crazy. When Piper starts laughing she doesn’t stop until she looks as if her lungs are about to rupture, Mrs Anderson dresses like she’s in a time warp from 1988, Leo down the hall collects cactuses in different shapes and sizes, and Nico himself spends half his time yelling at his laptop at incompetent people on Mythomagic forums.

He hasn’t had many encounters with Will yet, but when he does, it’ll top the list so far.

It’s a Friday night, and Nico is ready.

He’s had a week of work – gross – and he’s ridiculously tired, but instead of sleeping, Nico has a way better idea. He has a glass of wine already poured into a glass, sitting idly on the coffee table beside a box of chocolates that he was probably supposed to send to Hazel. Adam Sandler movie (everyone has guilty pleasures) is at the ready. Fluffy bed socks are on. Door is locked. Ready.

He sits down, grin on his face, and breathes out a sigh of relaxation.

…Which is precisely when there’s a knock at his door.

Nico groans. Quite loudly. He sort of hopes that they get the message but as the only response is a couple of other rat-a-tat-tat knocks on the door, he supposes not.

He considers ignoring it and pretending he’s not in – but they’ve probably already heard the groan, and the light from the hall is obviously going to travel through the gap underneath the door itself, and he doesn’t know who is there, anyway. It could be Billie Joe Armstrong, ready to declare his love. It probably isn’t, but it could be.

Nico sighs. An irritated one this time, and it’s not really necessary but it’s kind of for good measure. And then he drags himself up off of the sofa, and feels like he’s pulling dead weight as he slowly, very slowly, makes his way to his front door.

He’s not sure who he’s expecting to find at this hour (it’s only nine in the evening, but whatever, Nico’s an old man when it comes to socialisation in the night). It could Billie Joe. It probably won’t be Billie Joe, but he hopes it is. It could be the boy he got into a fight with in high school - Octavian - who swore revenge, ready to punch him in the face. Could be his ex boyfriend from two years ago turning up with a baby basket, screaming “it’s yours!” before disappearing into thin air, like in all the movies - not that he's sure how that'd work. He isn’t particularly expecting any of these – probably someone who forgot their key, or someone begging for money who somehow got into the building. Maybe his landlord for a surprise inspection, who knows.

He opens the door, and out of all the ideas that sprang into his mind, and all the logical and rational people it could have been, Nico is not expecting it to be Will from next door.

“Um,” Will says. He looks a little like a deer caught in headlights. Maybe he has the wrong address. “Hi.”

Nico stares at him for about ten seconds and then, rather than responding with a traditional greeting, blurts out, “do you have the right address?”

Will blinks several times. And then he says, “yeah. I mean. I wasn’t looking for anyone else. I’m here because – well, for you.”

Because that doesn’t sound creepy at all. What the fuck. Nico’s going to have to rename him Will from next door to Will from the wanted serial killers list.

“Right,” Nico says. There’s a short pause. He shifts uncomfortable, and adds, “for, um, any particular reason?”

Please don’t say homicide, Nico thinks.

“This is going to sound kind of crazy, I know-“

Oh God. He’s going to say homicide.

“But I think my apartment is haunted?”

There’s another pause. This one stretches out longer, an awkward silence in which Will hastily shuffles, waiting for a response, and Nico just gapes at him.

“You what?”

“I… think my apartment is haunted?” Will repeats, and okay. Maybe he did hear right, then.

“Um,” Nico says. “Right. That’s. Well. Unusual.”

“I know,” Will agrees. “But weird things have been happening since I moved in, and. I don’t know. You’re the closest neighbour I have, and sometimes I hear you – accidentally, thin walls, sorry – discussing the existence of aliens on the phone late at night. At least, presumably the phone. Maybe to yourself. Which is fine. But. I just mean, it made me think you might be the most appropriate person to approach here.”

Nico stares at him for a long moment. “You do realise this isn’t like, the ghost busters head quarters or something?”

Will snorts. “Obviously,” he says. “It’d be a pretty stupid ghost to live right next door to the HQ of its nemesis, after all.”

It’s a kind of funny comment. Nico wants to laugh, but he’s still gaping at Will, not really sure in any way how to respond to him.

“Are you fucking with me?” he asks. “It’s been a long week, man. I’m not feeling it. Come back on Wednesday, maybe. I can cope with Wednesdays.”

“I’m not joking,” Will insists, looking a little desperate. “Like. Genuinely. My apartment is being haunted. I am being pursued by a poltergeist, I am literally certain of it. And it’s been going on for months, ever since I moved in, and I just ignored it and tried to rationalise it but my Cheerios just got knocked off of the kitchen table for no reason, and they’ve spilled everywhere and I have had enough.”

Nico just says, “why were you eating Cheerios at nine pm?”

Will shrugs. “Mid-life crisis.”

“You’re not middle aged though.”

“But I will be, some day, and I’m having a crisis about it.”

Same, Nico thinks, nodding. Because he totally relates.

“Same,” he tells Will from next door. “I feel that.”

“Thanks,” Will says.

“New question, why were you eating Cheerios, they’re bloody gross.”

“They aren’t, but that’s not the point. I reiterate: I think my apartment is being haunted. In fact, scrap that. My apartment is being haunted.”

“Okay,” Nico agrees. “Your apartment is haunted. What – I mean, I’m not trying to be rude here – but what exactly can I do about that?”

“I need you to help me search for paranormal activity,” Will admits hastily, and Nico just stares at him. Again.

“Wait,” he says, a few moments later. “You are literally being serious right now.”

“Yep,” Will sighs. “Completely. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Nico says automatically. Is it? He doesn’t really know. He’s never been asked to hunt for paranormal activity before. Particularly not with someone he has literally spoken to twice. And neither of them were exactly intimate encounters.

“Thanks.”

“Why?”

“Because my apartment is being haunted,” Will says. “Oh, you mean – well. I can’t go alone. Everyone knows you never take on a poltergeist or whatever that is alone. I tried telling my friend, but he thought I was joking. And, um, my other friend recommended psychiatry. So far you’ve only crossed one off the list. So that’s a good sign.”

“Jesus Christ,’” Nico says. He shakes his head in disbelief, and he’s kind of really feeling like he needs to sit down for a bit. Or maybe for the rest of his life. That would work.

“Is that a no?” Will asks, defeated. All of this staring has given him a good look at Will from next door. He’s cute, that’s for sure. Blonde hair, blue eyes, most likely helps old ladies cross the street. He really is attractive – although most people are, if you haven’t got laid since 1968. Nico may or may not fall into that criteria.

Also, Will had these big blue eyes, hard to say no to. He’s really cute.

Also, Nico’s seen this film before, and it totally sucks.

Turns out ‘Jesus Christ’ doesn’t mean no after all.

Nico does what any good neighbour would do, and allows Will in, and offers him a coffee.

“Yes, please,” he says. “My coffee always seems to end up going drastically wrong. I blame the ghost.”

“Are you sure you’re not just really bad at making coffee?”

“I’ll have you know, I’m an expert,” Will retorts. “I’d show you, but honestly, I’m too scared of accidentally breaking the mugs. The ghost has made me very superstitious.”

Nico eyes him wearily, thinking, why the fuck did I let this lunatic inside of my apartment?

“I’m sure it has,” Nico says. “Can I ask when the supposed haunting began?”

“Right after I moved in.”

“And what exactly were the signs?” he presses, feeling a little too self-important. Nico’s enjoying this, though, in spite of the serial killer possibility still being a fairly high risk. He feels like a ghost buster. Maybe this is actually what he was born to do. If, you know, ghosts actually existed. He has no idea what he’s supposed to do or ask, and he’s kind of making it up as he goes along – it reminds him of the improvisation exercises they had to do in high school drama. A simpler time.

“Well, it’s really cold, for a start…” Will begins, and Nico can’t help but interject.

“The whole building is,” he tells him. “The heating is kind of shit. Don’t supposed they mentioned it in the sale, though.”

Will frowns. “Maybe the whole building is haunted,” he says, and Nico doesn’t reply, because if he did he would probably bang his head violently against the table.

“What else?”

“Things keep breaking. I keep dropping everything when I shouldn’t be. Things just fall off the table or out of my hands even when I’ve got a firm grip.”

“That’s called butterfingers,” Nico informs him. He feels that on a pretty deep level. Maybe he isn’t the ghost buster after all. Maybe he’s actually the ghost.

“I still think it’s the ghost,” Will says defensively. “I was never this bad before!”

“Really?”

Nico’s not sure why, but from looking at and talking to Will, he’s kind of drawn the conclusion he’s the type to break a good few mirrors in his lifetime.

“Well,” Will says. “I don’t think so.”

Nico sighs. “What else?”

“Weird noises.”

He raises his eyebrow. “As in…?”

“Like. I don’t know,” Will shrugs. “This kind of… groaning sound? But not like, I mean, not in a sexual way. I’m pretty sure I’m not just eavesdropping on someone getting laid by accident. It’s more of a… pained wailing.”

“I see,” Nico says slowly. “And what time would you say this occurs most of all?”

“I don’t know. Like… eleven in the evening until two in the morning, mostly, I’d say?”

Nico coughs. “Right,” he says, and then swiftly moves along onto another question.

Will does not need to know that the supposed ‘ghost noises’ he’s been hearing every night are actually the sounds of Nico losing at Silent Hill.

The last time Nico got invited back to a guy’s place in the evening was probably over three years ago. Also, it wasn’t to search for paranormal activity and the proof of a poltergeist, so Nico’s really not sure whether he’s winning or losing tonight.

“Here it is,” Will says, opening the door. “I don’t know whether you’ve been in here a lot before, with the old tenant, but. I’ve moved it around a bit.”

“Yeah, no, it looks good,” Nico says. “I like your set up a lot better than Percy's.”

“Percy?”

“Old tenant,” Nico tells him. “I came over a few times. The place always smelled of fish. It was gross.”

Will wrinkles his nose. “Ew,” he says. “Bet you’re glad that he left.”

“Oh, I am,” Nico says. “He was definitely not one of my better neighbours. He’s moved away with his girlfriend now, thank God, though I’m pretty sure they’re only together because she’s a pescatarian.”

“Makes sense,” Will shrugs. “Did he ever mention anything weird while he was living here?”

“99% of the shit he says was weird,” Nico tells him. “But if you’re talking about in relation to the ghost, then no, he didn’t.”

Will groans. “Why am I the only one being targeted?”

“Maybe the smell of fish scared him off?” Nico offers helpfully. “Or maybe he was being… haunted, and I just wouldn’t know because he never approached me about it quite as, well, forwardly as you did.”

“I was tired of suffering in silence,” Will says defensively.

“I’m not hating,” Nico raises his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Although, there is another option.”

“Which is?”

“He doesn’t exist. The poltergeist, I mean, not you.”

“I mean, that’s a possibility,” Will muses. “But I still have pretty high confidence in its existence. Do you not believe in ghosts, then?”

“Not really,” Nico admits.

“But you believe in aliens?”

Nico flushes. “That’s a debate for another day. It’s a bigger likelihood. Look at the size of the universe, Will. You really think this planet is the only one to harbour intelligent life? Will. Will, listen. They’re out there.”

Will stares at him for a few moments. “And you don’t believe in ghosts?”

“…Not really?”

“So you think we just get born out of nowhere and remain on the planet for an unspecified amount of time and then just die? Just like that?”

Nico shrugs. “I dunno, but if I were a ghost, I sure as hell wouldn’t be spending my days in the afterlife haunting random apartments.”

Will considers this. “Me either, but maybe it was resting in peace, but then the previous tenant angered it with the fish, and now it’s out for vengeance.”

“Okay, now that’s something I’d do,” Nico nods. “I agree with the current actions of the ghost.”

Will frowns at him, and points to the pile of broken ceramic, Cheerios and milk on his kitchen floor.

“Really?” he asks dryly. “I don’t.”

“How exactly do we detect paranormal activity anyway?” Nico asks, and Will, for a moment, looks perplexed.

“Ah,” he says. “That could be an issue. Don’t you need like, all kinds of fancy scientific equipment?”

“This isn’t a science fiction novel, Will. I’m pretty sure those kinds of tools don’t actually exist.”

“Such a sceptic,” Will sighs, mournfully. “And so young, too. So sad.”

“They didn’t need high tech equipment in paranormal activity the movies though,” Nico says, ignoring his previous comment. “You have a video camera?”

“Nico, those movies weren’t real…”

“Obviously,” Nico says, rolling his eyes. “But we have to take inspiration from somewhere.”

“True,” Will admits, and he complies. They set up Will’s old video camera in the kitchen, where Will insists most of the ‘incidents’ seem to happen, and wait a while.

“We should search the apartment too,” Will declares. “There might be, you know, weird demonic markings on some of the walls or something, that’d indicate there’s a demon here, right?”

“Or that a previous tenant was into the illuminati,” Nico says. “But sure.”

Nico goes along with it anyway, though he’s not entirely sure why. This is hardly on the top of the list of things he was planning to do tonight, but maybe, on the odd occasion, socialisation with a stranger does end up being better than sitting around watching bad Adam Sandler movies and being bitter. Not that Nico would ever admit it.

Also, who knows – maybe the whole ghost buster thing could end up being a pretty good career change. Nico’s not really feeling being in marketing for the rest of his life. Or for a second more than he has to be. So that could work.

“Hey, Will,” he calls. “Wanna go into business as professional paranormal activity experts?”

“Sure,” Will says. “I’ll come up with a theme song. We’ll probably get sued for being crap, though.”

Nico waves him off from the other side of the room. “I’m pretty sure whether or not you have been released from the haunting of a supernatural entity is a matter of opinion, and entirely subjective.”

He turns to look at Will, who is stood by the wall trying to look behind the photo frames and tiny flower pots (seriously?) for any, like, small 666 signs or something, presumably, and absent-mindedly thinks about how he has great legs.

“I’m pretty sure it isn’t,” Will says, turning around, and yeah. Great legs. “But it’s fine. We’ll work with it. You found anything?”

“Nope,” Nico says. “Zilch.”

“Me too,” Will frowns. “Subtle, ghost, subtle. I’ll give you credit for that. You’ve got moves.”

“It isn’t real,” Nico says. Because probably.

“Or it’s just more subtle than you are,” Will says, shaking his head. “My legs are great. I’m with you there.”

Nico blushes, and Will grins.

“Sorry if I-” he starts, but Will waves him off.

“I’m kidding,” he says. “It’s fine. Also, it’s been ages since we set the camera up, shall we go and check it?”

Nico blinks. “It’s literally been about forty-five minutes. If that.”

“Like I said, it’s been ages.”

They turn the footage onto fast forward, and watch for any – Nico doesn’t know what. Demonic figures. Floating plates. Suddenly falling kitchen appliances, or something like that.

Nothing happens, though. It’s a still image of a kitchen (with Will’s evening-breakfast still spread out, all over the floor, nice) that just happens to be the backdrop for a bit of blur and zoom indications, and a clock showing the time at the bottom.

But nothing happens.

“There!” Will says. “Nico, go back, I saw something!”

It turns out, all that Will saw was a bit of dust moving in the corner between the wall and the cupboard.

“You disgust me,” Nico says. “Clean your kitchen. Also, the cereal.”

“I don’t know if I should. Can’t I send stuff like that in to be analysed in labs and stuff? Is that a thing?”

“No,” Nico replies. “Clean it up. I’ve almost slipped on that milk at least three times.”

Like a good Samaritan, Nico offers to help clean up the cereal disaster, and promptly slips on the milk.

“See,” Will tells him, holding an ice pack to his head, which he had hit pretty hard on one of his kitchen counters. “I told you weird incidents and disasters kept happening here.”

“I slipped on spilled cereal ingredients,” Nico reminds him. “If you always leave your paranormal encounters left around on the floor like that, no wonder you’re always tripping over.”

Will frowns. “That’s a fair point,” he says. “I’m still recording some more, though. Just in case.”

“You do that,” Nico says encouragingly. “I’ll just. Be here. Icing.”

“Ah, right,” Will says, biting his lip. “Sorry about that. Your injury, I mean.”

“It’s okay,” Nico replies. “I mean. I don’t know what I was expecting when I came over here today, but it probably should have been something like this.”

“I… kind of feel like I should be offended right now,” Will frowns.

“Can you blame me? The first day we met, you dropped a box on my toe,” Nico points out, and Will’s eyes widen.

“Oh god, I’d forgotten about that! I’m so sorry!”

“Don’t be,” Nico says quickly. “It’s fine. All is forgiven.”

“Maybe it was the poltergeist?”

Nico groans on impulse. “Please stop,” he says, and when Will looks at him a little strangely, he feels self-conscious, and asks, “what?”

“Nothing, it’s just…”

“What?”

“You sounded a lot like the ghost noises I hear at night just then.”

Oh, fuck.

They manage to leave the recording going this time for almost an hour. Key word: almost. They spend the time sat dutifully in Will’s bedroom, googling things like, “paranormal activity detection”, and “is there a ghost in my house”, and “are ghosts adverse to fish?” on their phones.

It’s been a long time since Nico was in a guy’s bedroom as the clock neared towards midnight. He’s usually wearing a lot less clothes and not researching the likelihood of having a poltergeist in a newly-built block of New York apartments, but he’s having a pretty good time regardless. Maybe on occasion, the supernatural is better than sex. He considers this, and then decides that probably isn’t true. Maybe they should be combined. Will is still pretty, after all. Sex and the Supernatural. If the ghost buster business doesn’t work out, at least he has a great name for his future T V show.

“Will, the building isn’t haunted,” Nico says, for probably the 59th time. Nothing I’ve found backs up your idea. And if it did, it wouldn’t matter. It’s the internet. It’s all bullshit.”

“Well someone’s feeling cynical,” Will says, and Nico couldn’t agree more.

“That’s me,” Nico agrees. “Full time cynic. Non-believer. Para-sceptic.”

“…Who believes in aliens?”

Nico scowls. “We’ve been through this.”

They check the tape again, and there’s nothing.

“I told you so,” Nico sings gleefully, and Will glares at him.

“I don’t like you,” he says. “I’m glad I dropped box on your foot.”

“Hey!”

Will, as a good, courteous neighbour (who is blatantly copying Nico’s ideas) offers Nico a cup of coffee.

“I thought you said it always goes drastically wrong,” Nico reminds him, wearily.

“Oh, yeah,” Will says. “But I mean what’s life without a little risk? And it’s not like anyone has ever died.”

“That… doesn’t really reassure me, to be honest.”

Will rolls his eyes. “Live a little.”

Nico laughs, and when Will gives him a questioning look, he just says, “come on. Isn’t that a little ironic? We’re literally searching for a ghost right now. And you’re telling me to live a little. Jesus Christ.”

“Get out of my house,” Will says. And then. “Do you think I offended it?”

Nico does accept the tea, though. Mostly because he wants to see how horrifically bad this can go. Also, he’s never been one to turn down free coffee. Also, he’s running out of coffee at his own place, and it’s the strategically correct way to go.

Will takes extra care getting the milk out and boiling the kettle and pouring the water into the mug without accidentally burning half of his skin off. He’s doing quite well, actually, Nico was expecting more disasters by now. He’s pleasantly surprised.

Will hands Nico his cup of tea with a proud look on his face. “Didn’t even injure myself,” he beams. “I’m very proud.”

“I’m proud too,” Nico tells him. “Go on. Have your tea. You deserve it.”

“I do,” Will agrees. His tea is on the counter, cooling down, and Will glances at it. “I’m the master.”

“You are.”

“I’m glad we can agree.”

“How could I ever disagree?” Nico says. “Come on. High five.”

Will grins. Nico thinks about kissing him for 0.2 seconds until he promptly rejects the thought. He’s still a stranger, even if they have gone on this ghost hunt together, and discussed business initiative, and he’s really cute. That changes nothing. Obviously.

He raises his hand in waiting.

And then, as Will reaches up to give him said high five, disaster strikes. To be fair, it was bound to eventually. But as Will’s hand raises up to meet Nico’s, his elbow goes flying out in the direction of the counter, and the mug, in the collision, goes flying, and topples off behind Will’s arm and crashes onto the floor and promptly splits into about ten different pieces as the tea drenches the cupboards, the newly cleaned floor, and Will’s leg.

“See!” he exclaims. “This is what I mean! Things like this! They happen constantly! I’m cursed, I tell you, what the hell.”

“Will,” Nico says slowly. “You do realise that you knocked the mug off the counter, right? Not some ghost or invisible being. It was literally you. Hence the coffee on your elbow.”

“Yeah,” Will says. “I mean, that’s usually what happens, but that doesn’t mean a ghost isn’t here, dictating the events.”

Nico gapes at him. “Oh my god,” he mutters. “Will! You idiot, you’re not being haunted, you’re just clumsy.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s not just clumsiness,” Will argues weakly, but Nico knows that they both know he’s right. “It happens way too often to be a coincidence.”

“It’s not a coincidence,” Nico says.

“Yeah,” Will agrees. “I have a poltergeist.”

“No you don’t. It’s normal. It even has a name.”

“It does?”

“Yeah. It’s called really clumsy.”

“Ah,” Will says. He seems to ponder the thought for a moment. “Maybe I’m not being haunted then.”

“Did you mean, no shit?” Nico says, sarcastically, and Will laughs.

“Okay, you were right, I suppose,” Will shrugs. “It was kind of fun though, right? I hope I didn’t waste your evening. To be honest though, I don’t know for sure yet. I’m still not entirely convinced. It could just be hiding from you.”

“Nah, you didn’t. I mean, I had fun,” Nico says. Will gives him a small smile. Nico realises that the amount of emotion they are lowkey showing is disgusting, and dives into the other topic. “To be honest, you might be right, it could be,” he says, and he nods.

“Or maybe you’re the ghost. And you’ve just dressed yourself up in human form.”

Nico shrugs. He kind of really wants to kiss him, still. He can’t believe he’d spent his whole Friday night searching for a ghost. The things he’ll do for a cute boy is quite embarrassing. “You have no way of knowing,” he says, egging Will on.

Will pokes him in the side. “Hmm,” he says. “Feels real, to be honest.”

Nico gives him an innocent look. “Well, I mean,” he says. “There’s only a few ways to find out. Proper scientists conduct investigations, don’t they?”

“Experiments are very important in any case of paranormal activity,” Will agrees, a glint in his eye, and a grin on his face. Nico smiles back, too, and Will’s eyes drop to his lips and linger. Nico may not be quite as subtle as the poltergeist, but at least it’s led him to be able to take a hint.

He leans in quickly, and before he can change his mind he presses a chaste, gentle kiss on Will’s lips, lasting for a few seconds, before he pulls back, only half an inch, still so close to Will, and says, “wait, shit. That’s what we were talking about, right? I didn’t get the wrong idea?”

Will laughs a little. “That’s what we were talking about,” he confirms. “And you had exactly the right idea.”

Nico breathes out a sigh of relief, and Will pulls him closer and kisses him again, properly this time, slow. And if this is what the ghost chase has been leading up to this whole time then yeah, Nico definitely hasn’t wasted his Friday night. They keep kissing, slow and soft, and Nico can’t help but smile against his lips.

Maybe neighbours aren’t all bad, he thinks.

“Wait,” Will says, pulling back. “Maybe we should go to your place. You know, just in case the ghost is watching.” There’s a twinkle in his eye, and Nico wants to groan, but he wants to kiss him more and so he does, and again, before he actually answers him.

“Thought I was the ghost,” he says, and Will shakes his head.

“Nah,” he says. “I think you’re normal. Well, to an extent. You did just assist a near stranger in a hunt for paranormal activity for the past, like, four hours.”

Nico rolls his eyes. “Never mind,” he says. “Poltergeist or no poltergeist, I can’t do this here. I’ll be too distracted by the memory of searching for signs of the illuminati.”

Will laughs, and kisses him again. Says, “yours, then?” and yeah. Nico can work with that.

The last time Nico invited a boy back to his apartment past midnight was a while ago, and though it didn’t come after a lengthy search of a non-existent (he hopes) poltergeist and the emergence of a career in ghost busting, he has to admit that he likes the way it went a lot better this time.

#solangelo #solangelo fanfic #solangelo fanfiction #fic #i wrote this a few years ago as a different ship BUT i think it works better as solangelo lmao #SO IF U HAVE READ THIS BEFORE I AM NOT A PLAGIARIST im just suffering writers block #also excuse all my accidental brit speak idk what america is

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whimsically-ominously-auspice · 4 years

Text

Y'all in the village that have seen me recently

I apologize, y'all will just have to bless this sweet darling heart

My eyes have become super sensitive to the sun and I have to wear sunglasses (i got $250 worth of contacts with my stimulus check -- 12 boxes including one free sample due to the brand i purchased being discontinued suddenly and my prescription being out of stock - contact lens.com, i highly recommend. I did send inal a photo of my valid prescription) Usually I'm extremely picky and don't buy the lightly tinted lenses. But Wal-Mart had them on sale and usually that's all they sell. Usually i get mine from eBay and spend hours if not days searching for them cute and dark, zooming in the photos to see how the tint is reflected, refracted and if i can see through it. Usually sunglasses are very honestly shown for some reason.

Anyway so these are so thin I forget I am wearing them!

So, I'm all parading in Wal-Mart in purple sunglasses and all in the drive thru like an I don't care diva!

I don't know the origin, yet. Or where it came from... If it was just an agreed upon practice by international law or if it's just me. Idk.

But i think its rude to hide your eyes when speaking to someone. Like its not something conscious. I didn't sit around deciding it was a pet peeve or some law, but when i was a waitress tossing pizzas out the drive through pick up line or just a casual shopper -- people in sunglasses and not lifting them or removing them always bugged at me and irked me suspicious.

So I've been all parading around completely unaware because I've had to wear regular prescription clear lenses for so long that I'm used to the weight of glasses, especially in public because that's the only time I wore them. They just became part of me

And the tint is just see through light -- like the same color of my regular daytime light in my bedroom that every one says is dark. And a light bulb does illuminate. I'm very vampire dungeon darkness.

So I just wanted to apologize that i been all looking like Miss Princess don't care.

I always refused to buy light lenses because i thought they didn't work or weren't worth it. The sun here is so strong. But they do definitely help and are so comfortable i don't know they're in place.

So I care but my eyes hurt a lot. And the contacts kind of made it worse. Like when I take my non insulin diabetic shot, after 10 to 20 minutes I can feel it go into the back of my eyeballs and it feels so good!!

Its not a super pain or uncomfortable and its more when I don't sleep or am upset. I guess my pupils dilate weird

Which my eye doctor before the last, I was on Percocet and well the same 13 prescriptions as well as a few more for pain and so on. And he told me to be cautious as my pupils don't dilate proper due to "being so heavily drugged"

So who knows. I just try to avoid light.

And these sunglasses help and I don't know I'm wearing them. So I'm not hiding behind a mask and cute tinted sun glasses. I'm just protecting my eyes and preventing pain.

Like i say. The pain is from the brain to indicate a problem. So there's a problem Idk how to diagnose and verify or solve. So.

Its not intense just pressure and an auto response to avoid light. Like my kid turns on the lightbulb and I'm all its so fucking bright!!!! Although now the florescent burnt out thank God because that gave me migraines. And I got an LED. But the choices ar the dollar tree were limited to be 60 watt equivalent when I prefer a 40 watt or 30 even.

So I notice the intensity in my eyeballs changing in response to the light

When we lived in Alabama and we were about to move to NYC and my parents had always said Florida would be our next stop.

And i developed an allergy to the sun. A real allergy to the sun. It's a rare condition. My skin would marblize a red color and I would begin to feel faint and/or throw up if I was in direct sun.

It was right after Denise had become Zulululu.

And so I still have remenents of the non contagious disease. Although I was kept from school for 6 weeks... Like my legs if get hot then they get itchy and the sun irritates my eyeballs.

So I always buy sunglasses but I don't always wear them but have them available.

My daughter has the blue light blocker AND the progressive lens so that in the sun they turn to a light see through sun glasses. Zinnie.com I think I spelled it wrong m allong with a basic pair of clear glasses with a anti reflective coat for like $5 I paid about $70 for both. Never had any problems with Zinnie and even leaving them in a hot car was no problems. But a pair from firmoo I paid extra for the anti reflective coat and the lens coating melted in the car. So I'll never ever buy from them unless its a keep in the house pair. Wearing contacts and losing one on the beginning of a road trip where i was expected to drive -- it fell out my eye and ripped - it was old. And I didn't know or think about it and i had no back ups!! So i had to suffer the whole week. Migraines and all.

So in my luggage I keep a pair of contacts or glasses even when it's in storage. I keep a pair of glasses in my car in case of emergency. And firmoo completely failed me.

I've bought half a dozen or so from Zinnie. I call it Zin-knee-uh although it's probably just Zin-knee.

And noooo problems. Even with the advanced lenses which do work and are great.

Because I wear contacts, I don't want to invest in a good pair of glasses but my daughter solely wears glasses so I find it important to protect her eyes.

I get the anti-reflective coating -- the mid level due to at night lights. Without corrective lenses, lights look like Ferris wheels.

I literally can't see shit but 6 feet in front of me. I guess other people are not much different so. Like can y'all see a person 100 yards away? Like no? Right? I can see shadows and shit but I can't recognize people with my eyeballs until they're all up on me.

My uncle always says I'm gonna need a scope to shoot at night. -.-

I'm not quite Mr Magoo but I'm lucky as he is. Thankfully. (He's a cartoon, check him out. He's in YouTube)

And so my drastic apology for blatantly running around in sunglasses all rude and shit. Is done.

Also, while I'm talking about companies -- avoid PANTENE FOR COLOR TREATED HAIR. It strips rhe color out and is complete crap and the worst ever.

Herbal Essence and Loreal Elive are both fantastic to keep color treatments in.

I thought it was just our hair but ive been using PANTENE and my kid Herbal Essence and I see the difference.

Also I like my hair curly. And lantern curly didn't do shit. But Herbal Essence Twisted always has worked great. Not my personal favorite scent but tolerable.

Y'all what i need is a curly and color treated hair shampoo and conditioner at an affordable price. I've searched African American products and haven't found any with those labels. So Idk.

My scalp and hair is ultra dry due to scalp psoriasis and i can go a total 3 months of no washing without looking oily.

So i love African American products and buy them proudly in secret for myself! But i notice their bottles are smaller and more costly.

Except i found a leave in oil for only $3 which i use when i don't dye.

Foreign oils can strip hair color quite well as well as dandruff shampoo.

So I'm always cautious about leave in oils and lotions.

But PANTENE is a FAILURE.

Its my main switch. I use herbal essence and PANTENE and Loreal. Its a fact using the same conditioner and shampoo leaves a certain coating on the hair to cause it to be limp and flat and dull.

So it's always been recommended to use a clarifying shampoo and conditioner for a week then go back to the reg.

The same effect or nearly the same effecf is done by switching brands. So that's what I do.

PANTENE is now out of the equation.

Tio Nacho is a fantastic shampoo and conditioner. My daughter's hair was always unruly. Curly and just wild no matter what. And tio nacho is the only brand,to tame her to look like a human and not a wild lion. But I haven't found color protecting and it's $8 for only 12 ounces and so I find that expensive.

I buy the huge 27 ounces for $7. So.

But I would buy it for her. It helped calm the oily and wild mane.

My friend brushed her hair once and she was so surprised m she said that was like warm butter, lol. Because she always had wild corkscrew curls and some random straight ones she looked a wreck 24/7.

Truly I didn't mind I knew the truth. But tio Nacho has some miracle up in it. Swear.

PANTENE doesn't even have ordinary skills it claims to have m

So we may put Aussie in our loopm we use Tressemme when the cash flow is low.

I used to do live advertising and did the 3 minute Aussie miracle conditioner and that was always nice. The formula changed and it's not as wonderful as it used to be but its average. So i haven't had them in our loop.

Dove we don't like. Hers gets oily and crazy and i don't like the oil stimulation it causes. Idk maybe it's good but ... It makes me feel ick. Which is sad because I really wanted Dove to work.

PANTENE was my first "luxury" shampoo and conditioner i bought myself because i was raised on V05 and if I was lucky and Denise was nice, Suave. She literally bought the cheapest. And never bought extra conditioner and So i had to ration it. So my first self purchase on my own was PANTENE. But it is now a failure. -.- and lives are ruined and especially hair dos.

So now i used to buy my ex V05 ha!

And i have an emergency bottle of Tressemme 32 ounce under my bed for color treated. Conditioner.

We buy conditioner 4x more than shampoo. Because we coat it all --scalp to ends -- brush it. Then i rinse the heavy coat i soaked in while watching tv and smoking then I give it a light coat on the ends again and rinse.

Shampoo we just use one handful and not two or three and it foams up and so we don't need as much.

Like i use 2 - 3 pumps on my scalp of shampoo then one maybe two on the ends. The scalp i scrub the ends I rub.

Like now i have to dye again so I'll use a dandruff shampoo and I'll end up scrubbing all of my hair and use like 1/4 a 12 oz bottle. To get any deposits and leftover film and so on off all the hairs so they absorb the dye better. Then no conditioner. Or a light coat to detanglr and comb and rinse quickly without a deep soak. Then sometimes i gently apply shampoo again without a good scrub. Just run it through to remove the conditioner. But not to allow tangles.

Im not an expert or anything but hair care is serious around here and Idk why PANTENE is trying to destroy mine and succeeding.

I spend $50 every 2 months on just hair. For two.

One girl with a Mohawk and my long to the waist hair.

Two sides of her head are shaved every 6 weeks and she gets the same bottles as i do and then she's all "i need more" 0.o. Honestly she washes hers more often than i do.

We have our own buckets of shampoo and conditioner. Nathaniel either uses it or poisones it so we have our own large Easter buckets. And we store our towels in my room too. Then we have a 3rd bucket in case i buy in advance or like now give up on a bottle we were trying out. Save it. For days of emergency. Running out or so on

But we do borrow from each other if one or the other is low we take from each other to use.

We have different body soaps and different hair needs sometimes. Like i want curly and she's all nah. Or she has Tio Nacho.

We come from a 3 bathroom house so we're used to having our own product. Let me say it that way. But we always are good about sharing if necessary.

But she actually has more demands for bath stuff than I. So like her loofah and her body wash and all that isn't used by me and she knows its only all her Because I have my own bucket.

I cater to my kid. I Like it seperate too because her stuff is more expensive. $7 body wash and mine is $3 if i buy it. Otherwise i use shampoo. I do have hair in my armpits after all. And so i see hers and im all hmmm let me try this and yeah... "Idk how i used half a bottle in one bath" so it is more expensive!! So

While I'm buying 2x the shampoo and conditioner to supply 2 buckets -- in fact i am not spending more. If we shared the bottles as a person would expect, then we would go through them faster.

2 people in one bottle

Vs 2 people in 2 bottles.

So I have to purchase less often than if we shared but I have to purchase more bottles.

So in reality i pay the same price but the schedule and cost load is different.

Like if im out of conditioner, i know she will be at some point so i buy two bottles. And it waits until she needs it. Unless i need shampoo, too.

Then if she if she needs the shampoos then we buy all over again.

The cycle of life told in shampoo and conditioner.

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comicteaparty · 5 years

Text

November 29th, 2018 CTP Archive

The archive for the Comic Tea Party chat that occurred on November 29th, 2018, from 5PM - 7PM PST. The chat focused on Numb by Niina Eveliina Salmelin.

Featured Comment:

Chat:

RebelVampire

COMIC TEA PARTY- THURSDAY BOOK CLUB START!

Good evening, everyone~! This week’s Thursday Book Club is officially beginning! Today we are discussing Numb by Niina Eveliina Salmelin~! (http://www.NiinaEveliina.com/numb/)

Remember that Thursday discussions are completely freeform! However, every 30 minutes I will drop in OPTIONAL discussion questions in case you’d like a bit of a prompt. If you miss out on one of these prompts, you can find them pinned for the chat’s duration. Additionally, remember that while constructive criticism is allowed, our focus is fun and respectfully appreciating the comic. All that said, let’s begin!

QUESTION 1. What is your favorite scene in the comic so far and why?

NiinaEveliina

Hi folks! I'm the author of Numb and actually managed to wake up and join in the chat. Looking forward for the discussion and trying to avoid spilling any spoilers (edited)

RebelVampire

glad to see you could make it~!

i think my favorite scene was perhaps the one in carl and the thief's...mind space for lack of a better phrase for it. i really enjoyed seeing the possession kind of presented as a physical dilemma of sorts and not something that just happened and carl was just gone. but i also liked the entire eeriness of it cause it really opened lots of question doors and set up that intense sense of yup, something definitely is wrong

mathtans

Hiyo, I'm here, though at a moment's notice I'll need to drop everything and help put the little one to bed. ^^ I also only managed to read to the end of Part 5 (so to the end of 2017).

Yeah, some good eerie scenes in general. Rebel, do you mean the bit where Carl was bricking up Carl behind the wall...?

Also, hello to author/artist.

RebelVampire

yes that scene

NiinaEveliina

Hello, glad you could make it!

Ohh the possession sequence was a real joy to do, with figuring out how to do the visuals for it.

mathtans

That was an interesting visual. As for me, three scenes kind of stand out, let's hope I remember these...

I liked the bit near the start when Carl was talking about Amy's imaginary friends. Partly because it made me think of my own daughter (still very wee, granted), and partly because something seemed to be happening in the background, some guy with a hood, and little things like that amuse me. Neat way to make possible exposition less boring.

Second scene that I thought was great, mostly for comedic value, was when Susan was leaving the hospital to have a smoke, and then her cigarette wasn't there - Levi had it. Because of Nikita. Nice sign of things being more than they seemed. Less violent than the vase too, subtle.

RebelVampire

in regards to the first scene i think the event that was going on in the bg was the woman getting possessed by the thief. or at least she looks very similar to the woman who later brings the thief to carl

mathtans

Rebel: Oh wow, good catch.

RebelVampire

i loved nikita's choice of trying to send susan a sign. cause that was hilarious and i wish wed seen what susan was thinking. did she think she was crazy? did she think levi was a weirdo? who knows

nikita is a great trickster though

i loved him freaking out those old ladies with their nasty gossip

NiinaEveliina

Yes, this is correct @RebelVampire. It's that kind of pretty vague hint that readers can spot on their second time. I love putting small things like that in stories

mathtans

I wonder if maybe Susan thought that she'd put the cigarette there, because who else could it have been, and then forgotten.

NiinaEveliina

That cigarette gave Susan hard time, for sure

mathtans

Oh YES, that scene with the ladies going off on that kid, and then just the image of them with their cups upended on them, that was great too.

I'd forgotten that one.

Here's the big one for me though. That scene with Susan at the bottom of the stairs, calling out to Carl. Where the blood underneath her kind of bled (literally?) into the shading of the stairs, and it was just red, and dialled the creepy factor up to 11 for me.

NiinaEveliina

I think it's safe for me to say my favourite part as well? Even though it's really hard to pick, it's gotta be the moment after Thief/Carls attack, where Levi and Nikita meet again. Nikita allows Levi to help him up. and there's a tiny bit of trust formed there, as they walk out the house together. (Also, a big part for me to love that moment was the fact that I was finally able to get Levi out of that hospital bed.)

mathtans

I'm not big on horror, but I'm not so bad with watching it, because usually I can mentally write off supernatural stuff as "not real". So I could appreciate the weird, eerie stuff up to that point, but it didn't make me flinch. But that bit with the stairs - and maybe it's because I kind of saw it coming during the confrontation - that was too real. Too much. Had to walk away from my binge for a few hours there. (I mean this in a good way.)

Niina: That was nice, yes. Levi was kind of at a crossroads there, and it's good that they were able to help each other out, even when Nikita brushed him off.

NiinaEveliina

Gossip grannies always manage to bring out a response out of people @mathtans This kind of stuff is really interesting to hear. I'm glad it was still a good kind of shock for you!

mathtans

Very effective use of colour, and maybe angles and such too.

NiinaEveliina

I'm big fan of horror, so I sometimes have to wonder when I do certain scenes: when it's too much. Hearing this kind of perspective is always good.

RebelVampire

yeah the color work whenever the basement became involved was really great. cause basements are creepy as is, so it was great to see them become as creepy as i expected. lthough i think what really dialed the creepiness up for me in that scene was susan calling out to carl that she thinks shes hurt. because at that point its such a no duh thing that susan's helplessnesss really sinks in. and nothing is more worrisome about the supernatural than the realization you cant do shit about it. Niina: I did enjoy that moment of bonding and understanding. Especially given that Nikita seems kind of stubborn and it was good to see him accept he needed help.

mathtans

One of those "okay, overloaded now" moments. Tough for me to say exactly why.

Rebel: Yeah, the calling out probably helped cement it too, now that you say that. In particular, that she thinks he might help. >.<

NiinaEveliina

I think what makes it horrific, is that Susan and Carl were so close, so there's no way she could have seen it coming. Just a 5 mins ago before thief arrived, Carl was just nagging and worrying about her.

mathtans

Since I don't read a lot of horror, I may not be your target audience either. It's tough for me to say what is or isn't too much there.

Funny thing too btw, I didn't really like Susan. Personal pet peeve about smoking, and she also seemed like something of a killjoy, or one who dishes things out but can't always take it when things turn back towards her novel.

But that death... damn, didn't deserve that. Felt bad.

RebelVampire

its okay math. im not the target audience either, though for the opposite reason. im so numb to it that things that should be scary im just like "seems like a normal tuesday to me." XD

mathtans

(Assuming it's a for sure death - I haven't gotten into the 2018 stuff yet. Maybe she's a ghost now.)

Oooh, title drop by Rebel.

RebelVampire

not even on purpose

missed opportunities

i will spoil it and say its a for sure death minus the ghost issue

which i wanna give props to that

so few stories actually kill someone off

to the point i lived in denial

and was like "nah susan is fine someone will get her help nobody ever dies"

NOPE

mathtans

There is that. Well, that's sad.

Should've died of cancer!

NiinaEveliina

I don't know (about the target audience thing), I find it really hard to put Numb in only horror category and see it more as a mixture of different genres. I'd like to think that all kind of readers will get something out of it. Of course, they have to be able to stomach those extreme scenes as well @mathtans hahaha!

mathtans

Yeah, it's not for sure horror. There's elements of fantasy too.

I'm bad for recognizing genres. Particularly with my own stuff.

RebelVampire

speaking of susan, though, i can see where shed be irritating. but man did carl's nagging about her book feel so relateable because writing is hard and somedays you just want to think nothing about book writing

QUESTION 2. Many of the supernatural events are driven by the appearance of the “thief.” Who or what do you think the thief is? Why is the thief continually transferring bodies? Additionally, what is the thief even running from so desperately? What does this have to do with all the voices, including Tim’s, that Carl hears when he becomes possessed? What do you think the thief’s end goal is? How do you think the thief was able to touch Nikita, and why did the thief seem so sure Nikita was going to hurt it? Also, how are Nikita and the thief connected, if at all? Lastly, do you think Carl will recover from the thief’s possession, or is he forever doomed?

chateaugrief

hello thursday book clubbers! Hi @NiinaEveliina I really enjoyed reading your comic! regarding 'extreme scenes' do you really think that the scenes from numb were extreme? what's everyones opinion on level of blood violence?

mathtans

Also, Levi's apartment and stuff for Susan issues. Though apparently she writes well, according to Nikita.

NiinaEveliina

@mathtans It's fun to see that perspective on Susan! To me her smoking was actually really important. In my childhood most of my family, friends and people around me were heavy smokers. Still they were the ones to tell me hardest "never you start ok" and I actually never have smoked a cig in my life, probably because of those smokey lungs were so much against it, ironically So there's something very nostalgic about her to me.

mathtans

I didn't have an issue with the blood. But it's not really a squick for me, and I wonder if watercolours mutes it a bit?

chateaugrief

I'd agree with mathtans that the abstraction of the art really created a bit of distance for me from the horror elements, muted it a bit perhaps?

mathtans

Niina: That's neat background info! Yeah, my family has some history of asthma and I have an allergy to smoke in particular. So I'm prejudiced against smokers. Nothing personal.

I'm not sure if it distanced me from the horror, just the violence.

NiinaEveliina

@chateaugrief I'd say the overall themes are pretty heavy and the obvious scenes like throwing Sue down the stairwell and Nikita getting knife'd. From the audience reactions, I'd say those would be the most 'gorey'. @mathtans yeah, all good :)

chateaugrief

good point, there was still major suspense

RebelVampire

id say the scenes in numb were still pretty extreme though, but thats in comparison to contemporary webcomics. and a good majority of "horror" webcomics are actually real mild in comparison. but thats just my opinion and based solely on my reading repitoire, and horror is hard to come by in webcomics in general unless you go looking for it.

mathtans

Regarding the latest question, not quite sure about thief's origins, assuming it's only one person - because I'm pretty sure Tim merged with the thief. Remember how Levi remembered that Tim had changed a bunch before he died? I think there's something to that.

RebelVampire

yeah, im 100% aboard the tim got possessed train

it is the most logical sense

NiinaEveliina

And I gotta say I'm happy that the visuals have been there to distance people from the violence. Because I never wanted Numb to be that kind of shock violence, in-your-face kind of mess. So it was my aim to find balance between the extreme nature of the violence but still keeping it, you know, tasteful.

chateaugrief

that's interesting, @RebelVampire because i've seen a lot of creators tag stuff with the tiniest bit of blood as mature, even in a non-violent context. I didn't think Numb was particularly gory, despite the scenes mentioned. The framing of the shots made them practically happen offscreen...which only heightened that suspense and atmosphere. Was very well done I thought

mathtans

Yeah, some of the framing was pretty well done. Like in the scenes where Carl has the knife.

chateaugrief

yes, those eyes staring out of the blacked out face!

mathtans

So Tim merged with the thief... is he a part of thief now then? Or did he kill himself to try and get away, and is now part of a band of ghosts trying to take thief down? I'm not clear whose side he's on.(edited)

NiinaEveliina

I better keep my mouth shut while the Thief talk, this is very interesting to follow

RebelVampire

nah i wouldnt say it was gory at all, but it was extreme in other ways which is why id still label it as extreme. becuase suspense can do a lot to make mild gore feel extreme. and more the issue with numb is it was realistic. because susan's death was something that could happen to anyone. so gory? definitely not. but extreme in the sense that it would unsettle ppl a lot and probably require a mature tag, yes probably. but again, specification this is compared to contemporary webcomics

if we start including other mediums its super duper mild

NiinaEveliina

@RebelVampire This is very true

mathtans

I mostly just read webcomics for this chat. I don't know what's mainstream.

chateaugrief

i'm such a newbie to webcomics that I probably take my expectations from other mediums. why I'm here, I want to learn.

RebelVampire

no time like the present to get started.

i feel like tim merged with the thief? like i kind of dont feel like you escape the thief once it possesses you

chateaugrief

so @NiinaEveliina how did you decide on the style of art that you chose?

RebelVampire

more likely i think levi mightve killed tim in self defense or something?

so tim is stuck forever

💩💩💩YY 💩💩💩

So I've only gotten to the point where Levi is in the hospital and he claims that there was someone there on the street. 9v9llll And I'm already quaking in mah boots. OH MAN... hides in non-existent sheets

mathtans

Maybe thief is a soul fleeing the grim reaper... except Nikita told Susan to move away from the voices after death, and she'd be fine. So maybe thief is the grim reaper, gone a bit off in the head?

RebelVampire

i kind of get the impression that the thief is an escapee, like the thief escaped a larger entity or escaped death itself. and now its on the run trying to avoid death

cause death sucks

who wants to be dead

nobody

thats who

💩💩💩YY 💩💩💩

This silly bean was not expecting this and now I'm not sure if I have the guts to continue. ; V ; slowly clicks next page

mathtans

Rebel: Oh, maybe. I hadn't considered that (the self defense). Fun fact, it occurred to me that Levi indirectly killed Susan. Because if he hadn't delayed her with his talk about Nikita, she would've left the house to look for Amy, rather than getting locked in by Carl.(edited)

chateaugrief

that was one of the funniest moments when Nikita says 'will you trust me if I tell you that dying is bad and you don't want to be dead'. (edited)

mathtans

Y'know who sucks? Thief. Death seems like the better alternative.

Cuz thief tries to be charming and stuff, then pushes your friends down a flight of stairs.

Going back to chateau's remark, yeah, watercolours is an interesting medium. I think we've only had one other webcomic here that uses them.

chateaugrief

i've seen a lot of webcomics that use digital media that's made to look like watercolor though. It's quite a beautiful look done well!

RebelVampire

man that moment with nikita telling susan about death really sticks to me now that i know susan be dead for real. cause the entire time i was like "this is strange advice for a character who isnt going to die."

and then the death was real

so now im like "great and depressing advice there nikita"

as another thief theory, i think the thief continually is transferring bodies to get rid of the voices of all the souls its kind of absorbed along its travels, but ironically the more it transfers the mroe souls it gathers

a tragic cycle

mathtans

That's a great theory. Snake eating it's own tail sort of thing.

chateaugrief

it did appear to absorb souls didn't it? I just realized that

incidentally, I found that listing the characters for every page was Super Useful for me as a new reader to keep everyone semi-straight in my head. Kudos

NiinaEveliina

@chateaugrief I decided the artstyle based on what I wanted to learn to do basically. I was terrible with watercolors/colors in general, and knew that if I used those in Numb, I'd HAD to learn them eventually Of course now they play such a big role in the comic, I cant even imagine numb without color anymore. Otherwise the cartoony/mangaish mishmash style was chosen because it allows me to really have fun with character expressions and go wild with them. I also take lot of inspiration from animation, and wanted to give a sense of movement to the characters with my best ability.

mathtans

Related to thief, I wonder what the deal is with the wheat field.

RebelVampire

the wheat field seems related to death in some way? cause it conveniently showed up when susan died

so maybe its the grim reaper?

chateaugrief

@NiinaEveliina thank you so much for choosing color. I have to thank every comic creator who goes the extra mile and uses color. It's hard, but it's so worth it! Really makes the story pop. How could those pages with the blood look half as good in black and white?

RebelVampire

or the bad grim reaper

chateaugrief

grain reaper

mathtans

You win the evening with that comment.

NiinaEveliina

hahaha

Superjustinbros

Hey there!

NiinaEveliina

@chateaugrief heck yea, color all the way!

Superjustinbros

Hope I'm not too late.

NiinaEveliina

Hi!

Superjustinbros

Hello!

chateaugrief

back on the character styles being a mix of manga and western, I thought that was a very interesting balance, I tend to prefer western style so that's what I saw...but now thinking about it I can see the influence of both. Interesting line to walk!

NiinaEveliina

tbh, all these thief, nikita's advice and the field theories are making my day

Superjustinbros

Manga/western mixes are perhaps one of my favorites so it's always good to see works that adapt to that style~

NiinaEveliina

@chateaugrief Theres a big blend probably because my childhood influences came from all directions, western, euro and japanese comic were all around from an really early age, so they have fused together in my style I think

chateaugrief

@NiinaEveliina any works that you consider to have particularly inspired you?

mathtans

Maybe when thief started out, they didn't possess people. Hence hanging around in forests as a disembodied voice. Maybe the people thing is more recent.

Maybe it's something Tim did.

RebelVampire

QUESTION 3. Nikita is perhaps the most mysterious individual in the story. How do you think Nikita became a ghost (or whatever you think he is)? How long do you think he’s been that way? What might it have to do with what he told Susan after he found her injured? Why do you think Nikita has been avoiding Levi since the incident at Carl’s house? Is it fear or is Nikita just still mad about Levi’s dealings with everyone? In the comic, we also see some of Nikita’s life. What do you think happened to Nikita’s dad and mom given the medicine both seem to require? Who is Misha, and why did it cause Nikita’s mom to have a temporary meltdown? What do you think happened with Nikita’s relationship with Julia, whether in the past or in the current timeline?

thats an interesting thought that tim did something

maybe tim was the first

started the whole chain

chateaugrief

sounds plausible. I'm not to the part where we see nikita's backstory yet...at least I don't think I was

mathtans

Tim performed a ritual. Bad Tim.

chateaugrief

I was curious as to why Nikita just 'dropped Levi as a friend' after being friendly to him. I didn't understand why he did it. It felt like Nikita overreacted to whatever it was Levi said, and i couldnt' see why.

NiinaEveliina

@chateaugrief Donald Duck stories from the great Carl Barks and Don Rosa, Bone from Jeff Smith, Battle Angel Alita, Rumiko Takashi's work and Sandman are the first few comics that pop to my mind. The list is endless There's also huge influence from films on numb. Old italian horror films such as Suspiria and the beyond are great examples, especially for the trippy visuals.

mathtans

Here's one thing I wondered about Nikita and his interactions. When he threw the vase, it was like there wasn't a vase in the room. When he spilled the chess pieces, the guy thought he hadn't brought them. Can Nikita actually destroy our reality? Or are our brains that desperate to think of explanations for the stuff he does?

Levi has issues. Don't want them to rub off. ^^

chateaugrief

@NiinaEveliina ah .... some one's I've seen and some I haven't. I'll be sure to check them out

RebelVampire

i think its the latter, that our brains reject the supernatural so hard core we invent whatever seems the most logical to compensate.

cause susan especially seems that type

NiinaEveliina

@chateaugrief I swear the list changes every time I'm asked, there's just so many :D

RebelVampire

who will pick any reason that does not include the supernatural

mathtans

OH. Just thought of something. Carl could see Nikita. Tim could see things too, and possibly Amy. Maybe thief can only possess people who can see things like Nikita. Might be why he never tried for Susan.

The only way to protect yourself is not to believe.

RebelVampire

i suppose thats possible, although we have an immensely small sample size

and couldnt carl only see nikita after he was possessed?

mathtans

Carl gave Nikita an apple in an early scene.

But yeah, not necessarily enough people to draw conclusions.

RebelVampire

i dont remember this. i remember carl giving an apple to the lady that was possessed by the thief

mathtans

Oh, was it the lady? Maybe I got crossed up. It was the first time we saw Nikita, outside the hospital?

RebelVampire

http://www.NiinaEveliina.com/numb/comic/chapter-1-25-2/

mathtans

Ah, you're right, wires got crossed. We saw that apple later, and it was kind of rotten, so that makes sense too.

RebelVampire

on a side note, i enjoyed thief!carl punching nikita. cause the look on nikita's face was priceless. not that i cheer for his pain, but man was that a great expression because he didnt expect it at all

mathtans

True that.

I wonder if being in the proximity of death made him visible and corporeal to everyone. That's why Susan could see him.

RebelVampire

i think more likely the thief was special and susan was the one whose dyingness made her able to see him

since the topic of nikita and levi's relationship was brought up, i feel like nikita is just slow to trust and i feel like hes been a ghost long enough that hes not as used to having to tell ppl where hes going and such

chateaugrief

speaking of punching Nikita...he was a ghost right? do ghosts bleed? perhaps the punch made him non spectral?

punched straight out of the afterlife.

RebelVampire

i feel like it did make him non spectral

although im really curious about whether or not he couldve actually died again

mathtans

Maybe Nikita's having issues as a ghost, because he can't take his meds any more. Gets harder and harder to talk to people.

I feel like it might've been worse than death. Even after the wounds "healed", Nikita said it still hurt.

chateaugrief

only thing creepier than a ghost is a ghost obsessively swallowing adhd meds

NiinaEveliina

punched straight out of the afterlife... just to get stabbed. No wonder he's salty(edited)

mathtans

"One Punch Carl".

chateaugrief

Carl was the boss. I liked his character. Susan was a bit hard on him, seemed to see criticism from him at every turn, but I felt like it was genuine concern coming from him.

I could be confusing Susan with the other girl....

RebelVampire

i see both sides of the carl susan relationship. cause im sure his concern was genuine, but at the same time i also understand how concern eventually becomes nagging

ya know who really got the short end of the stick in all this story though?

amy

amy basically has little to no agency

and all this bad shit keeps happening

and everyone is lying to her

mathtans

I do shake my head at the one Carl scene. Where his daughter, who's already established as someone who maybe skips classes, talks about going into the woods. And Carl's like, "yeah, don't do that, okay go out to the bus now". Like, maybe watch her board the bus? What did you have to do that was so important?

RebelVampire

about whats going on

chateaugrief

yes that was the other girl! couldn't remember her name she had so little agency

mathtans

Yeah, Amy's imaginary friends even gave themselves up for her.

chateaugrief

poor girl, she was trying

mathtans

I'm really bad with names, usually. Not sure why I haven't tripped up yet. Maybe it's the reasonably sized cast?

Or the tags.

chateaugrief

I really liked the tags

but I only discovered they were there at about chapter 3

it really cleared up the characters a bit for me, but i'm kinda fuzzy on some of them

RebelVampire

math you havent even gotten to the sadder part with the imaginary friends XD

that broke my heart a bit for them

cause tbf they probably arent imaginary

mathtans

Oh noes. O.o

I wondered about that.

RebelVampire

but that is debateable tbf

i dont think theyre imaginary though

mathtans

Okay, we haven't had enough crazy theories yet. So, Nikita's dad is really also Tim's dad. They're half brothers. Boom!

RebelVampire

cuse if they are amy is super creative and has way better designed imaginary friends then i ever did

chateaugrief

......O.O.......

mathtans

tbf I think Amy is super creative. She was trying to do drawings and stuff. (Though she may be creative but not have art skill.)

chateaugrief

and she was very young, she was definitely trying. She's not dead yet is she? plenty of room for character development

mathtans

Also, she's adopted. Boom! shrugs

RebelVampire

amy definitely isnt dead

yet

QUESTION 4. Levi has his own mysteries and problems going on, past and present. What do you think happened between him, Susan, and Tim given certain flashbacks we’ve seen? What do you think Levi and Tim saw that day in the woods, and why were only Levi and Tim able to see it? Why did Levi lie to dream Susan about not seeing Tim sometimes in his dreams? In other words, what is Levi emotionally avoiding? Do you think that Levi will be able to get over what happened at Carl’s house? Also, do you believe that he will be able to help Amy? What about Kiwi who seems to have known Nikita and who is now Amy’s roommate? Finally, do you believe Levi is safe from the thief, or are the two destined to encounter each other again?

chateaugrief

Nyarlathotep

is the dad

mathtans

Levi and Tim seemed to see an opening, if memory serves?

Also, Levi seems to have trust issues. Like, he doesn't seem to think anyone will believe him. Including himself, maybe.

RebelVampire

i think levi is more afraid of being alone and ostracized

that is the impression i get from him

which is why he does what he must to fit in with the club

mathtans

Actually, Tim was always Levi's imaginary friend. Levi believed so hard that Susan could see Tim too.

Yeah, he doesn't want to be alone, I can see that.

RebelVampire

im still gonna go with the levi hurt tim in self defense when tim went psycho possessed. and that in turn tore the group apart cause nobody wanted to talk about what happened.

that would be an amazing twist for tim

mathtans

What if Levi actually was the first one possessed by thief. And it ended up going to Tim. And that's why Levi has abandonment issues.

I can't tell if I'm doing crazy theories or normal ones.

RebelVampire

i think that one still qualifies as crazy but i mean its not implausible

chateaugrief

I really don't have enough info to make theories.... these sound good. I could go with any of these

mathtans

Do we know much about Carl's wife?

RebelVampire

no but i assume dead

because youre not to the part but they send amy to an orphanage

because they cant get in contact with any other relatives

mathtans

Gotcha. Wondered if Levi knew her in some way. Not sure if it's connected.

RebelVampire

idk

tbh ive really been trying to figure out how carl knows them and what the nature of their relationship is

cause carl has like 10 to 20 years on them

mathtans

Yeah. School related? Carl's job?

RebelVampire

and im not sure if this is like one of those small town where everyone just knows everyone

mathtans

Anyway, you'll have to theorize without me. Time to put little one to bed.

chateaugrief

i wondered about that, Carl looks about 50, so were the levi/susan crowd about in their 20's or perhaps late teens?

RebelVampire

ok. thanks for coming, math~!

levi is apparently late 20s and susan early 30s

by their cast pages

NiinaEveliina

@mathtans thanks for joining the chat and giving numb a change despite not being such a horror fan!

chateaugrief

I may have been thrown off by the lack of visible employment by the levi/susans, though maybe I just missed that. I've got to learn to slow down when i read webcomics. There's such a temptation to go so fast!

NiinaEveliina

The ages are pretty vague, because I don't want to forget and then conflict myself later, but it wouldn't be much of a spoiler to give a little background on Carl and Susan (I think it's on their cast info pages as well so it's not a spoiler even) but Carl was a family friend to Susans parents, who were working a lot and going abroad, so Carl looked after Susan a lot, and is basically her father figure. Carl knows Levi and Tim through Susan, since those three were childhood pals.

chateaugrief

that makes sense, it makes sense of the character dynamics too.

RebelVampire

ok that does add more context and makes more sense. and also explains why carl keeps nagging susan like a dad

or kept

cause susans dead

and carl is close to dead

now im sad

chateaugrief

pretty unlucky family, perhaps a familial curse?

RebelVampire

i just hope amy is not next on this path of death and destruction

chateaugrief

now that susan's dead I'm going to have to adjust my feelings on who is the protagonist of the story. I would have said her over Levi, but I guess it's all up to Levi now.

NiinaEveliina

Being amy is suffering

chateaugrief

Speaking of protagonists and plots and stuff @NiinaEveliina do you have a completed plot/script for this comic or are you more freeform making it up in episodes as they come?

RebelVampire

i always felt levi was the protagonist, though susan was a main character for sure. but susan seemed to have a smidgen less agency than levi in terms of who the protagonist is.

NiinaEveliina

@chateaugrief Everything is on my head, as I'm dreadful at actually writing things down, but the whole story has a script/plot that I follow. But I'm open with it in a way that I know what will happen, but HOW it will happen is free to change if the story seems to drift more to other way. As I have done this comic further, I learn to know the characters more, so some actions I planned for them may not make sense anymore, or just that they would go about it differently. Those kind of things may change.

I have vague idea how many pages the story will need, but as I do chapters, I don't have set page number for them. (that's something I will start using on my next project after numb, but with Numb I'm gonna roll with the flow)

chateaugrief

I always wonder about the page numbering thing because of the strict expectations with print form comics on page counts and things, at least in American comics. It always sounded very hard to structure your story around pages that way

NiinaEveliina

Yeah, but I can see the perks in that too. Helps you to trim down the story and keep on track with things.

chateaugrief

that's something I really should ask, you use some very complicated page layouts, and I think they flow quite well. How do you plan your pages, do you begin with the panel structure and fit your story to the panels or what?

choosing panel structures has always been mysterious to me

RebelVampire

COMIC TEA PARTY- THURSDAY BOOK CLUB END!

Sadly, this wraps up this week’s Thursday Book Club chat for now. Thank you so much to everyone for reading and joining us! We want to give a special thank you to Niina Eveliina Salmelin, as well, for making Numb. If you liked the comic, make sure to support Niina Eveliina Salmelin’s efforts however you’re able to~!

Read and Comment: http://www.NiinaEveliina.com/numb/

Niina’s Ko-Fi: https://ko-fi.com/A3202ONF

Niina’s Redbubble: https://www.redbubble.com/people/Speardog?asc=u

Niina’s Twitter: https://twitter.com/NSalmelin

Comic Tea Party- Thursday Book Club

Next week’s Thursday Book Club will be about Pin Porter Girl Detective by Robin Gee and Ethan Bartlett. For participants, you have the next week to read as much of the comic as you would like~! We hope to see you on Thursday, December 6th, from 5PM to 7PM PST for the chat in #thursday_bookclub!

Comic’s Main Site: http://pinporterdetective.com/

#ctparchive #comics #webcomics #indie comics #comic chat #comic discussion #book club #bookclub #webcomic book club #webcomic bookclub #comic tea party #ctp #numb #niina eveliina salmelin

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artfulmatters · 7 years

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Please Enjoy the Show . . . The Trabert Guide to Theatre Protocol

If you know anything about The Traberts, you know that we are devoted advocates of the Arts, because . . . “Without art, we are just stuck with reality.” – Daniel R. Lynch.

Tedd and I try to support as many forms of art as possible, but we simply adore the performing arts; our social calendar is full of performances and artsy encounters. Over the last couple of months, we have attended the Broadway productions of “Beautiful” and “An American in Paris” at the Adrienne Arsht Center, Miami City Ballet’s Program II – “A Fairy’s Kiss,” a performance by the Fellows at the New World Symphony and sprinkled in a couple of galas to round out our support for the performing arts in Miami. Since we are so diverse, we were honored to attend “Well Strung” at the Broward Center, with some dear friends, and then jetted off to New York City to see “Carmen” at the Met!

Each of the performances brought joy to my artistic soul, but they were not without their frustrations. Please let me be clear before I offend lovers of the theatre and the arts. My frustration was not with the actual performances, but rather, the lack of courtesies by my fellow audience members.

When did going to the theatre become so wrought with disrespect and a lack of consideration for the other members of the audience or artists that people feel free to talk loudly, text, record the show or make other distracting noises during a performance? Once upon a time, going to the theatre was a prized experience, a social occasion worthy of champagne, sparkling jewelry, fancy clothes and idle gossip – just a few of my favorite things.

Call me crazy . . . Call me an old soul . . . But, I still believe that going to the theatre should be an experience you enjoy in the moment, as it is happening and show others respect by not engaging in a disruptive nature.

Below are just a few of the annoying breaks in protocol to think about on your next visit to the theatre . . . Are you on this list?

Tick Tock, Tick Tock . . . the show won’t Stop . . . (for you)!

I am always appalled by the number of people that stroll into the theatre after a performance has already begun. I am sorry, but did your ticket say another start time than the rest of us? To arrive late shows such a lack of respect for the other audience members and performers. Just because we live in South Florida, Floridians seem to run on a different time table than the rest of the world, does not give people an excuse to arrive late to a performance. Tedd and I like to have a nice date night by making an appearance in the patron’s club for a cocktail before a show. This allows us plenty of time to unwind from work and catch up on our day. Most theatres have beautifully acquainted accommodation, perhaps even a restaurant, that allows guests to relax, get a drink, a little nibble and gossip with friends and loved ones. The Traberts just love the club amenities at the Adrienne Arsht Center and Broward Center – I can’t pass up the complimentary drinks! So, make sure you get there early so you enjoy the full experience of being at the theatre.

Please leave fidgety and small children at home.

I love children – especially when they are the well-behaved ones. It is simply adorable to see a child all dressed up in their Sunday best with twinkles in their eyes as they gaze upon the grand stage with anticipation of seeing their favorite characters. Exposing children to the arts at a young age is both educational and inspirational, which can mold them into future artists or performers. It is for this reason that I highly encourage parents to take their kids to the theater. (I will never forget my dad taking me to see my first Broadway show, “The Phantom of the Opera.” I still get goose bumps when I see it as an adult.) However, if a child is too young to follow along or comprehend the art form, they become restless, start talking or commit the biggest theater crime of all – start crying. With that said, if you think your child might not appreciate the performance and sit through its entirety, please leave them at home so you don’t annoy other theatre goers and risk being asked to exit the theatre – that’s just a waste of the tickets.

Chewing, smacking or sucking on food or any other item during a performance is really annoying.

I can’t tell you how many times I have had someone behind, on the side or directly in front of me sucking on a piece of candy, chomping on food, crumpling a bag or unwrapping something in my ear. I have no problem with people bringing food or drink into the theater; just make sure it is easily accessible and edible so that you don’t become “that annoying person” sitting by me making a ruckus. Lord knows I like to bring my cocktail in with me to sip on while I enjoy the show. But I am a quick to make sure that anything I bring into the theatre does not impede on anyone else’s enjoyment of the performance. It is for this reason that I use a straw with my cocktail; shifting ice makes a lot of noise. Many theaters performances only allow bottled water inside the auditorium so there is no risk of disturbance. So, please check with an usher before entering the theater to see what the rules are for food and drink for each performance as they vary.

To clap or not to clap . . . This is the question?

I recently had a lady stare me down for clapping during a pause in a performance. But, I say there is never a bad time to clap. Without fail I am always that person that seems to clap when no one else does. At first, I would get embarrassed like I did something wrong; that was before I talked to some performers and artist about clapping. They told me they love it when the audience claps. It shows them the audience is into their performance which gives them more energy and creates a better experience for everyone. So, I say clap on!

Rifling through a purse is more distracting than one thinks.

I must admit that sometimes I find myself envious that women get to sling fabulous handbags around their arms. Why would I not be? A bag makes it very handy to carry a multitude of maintenance items for a night on the town. However, ladies please be aware that when you unzip or unclasp your purse and then proceed to dig through it, in what is mostly likely a failed attempt to find that one item at the bottom of your bag, you are making a lot of noise. Please save this dire moment for intermission or after the show. You may even excuse yourself early if you are having a makeup meltdown. Just don’t but do it during the performance.

Choose your accessories wisely.

Although your charm bracelet might be the perfect addition to your ensemble, the jingle jangle sound coming from it may not be so fabulous to others around you.

TING . . . TING . . . TING . . . CLINK . . . CLANK . . . If that is annoying to read, just think about the sound!

I experienced one occasion when a lady was flailing her arm about and all the while making a ruckus with her bracelets. She seemed completely unaware that she was making a lot of noise with her bangles. Of course, this was until I felt compelled to say something to her. I rose from my seat, calmly walked over to her and politely, in my most gentile voice, stated that although I thought her bracelets were very lovely she needed to take them off so that I could hear the performance. (I might not have been that polite . . . but that’s how I am telling the story.)

Leave the change in your car.

Gentlemen, you are not without annoyances either. We might not have the bag, but we have pockets. Items rattling around in your pockets as you shift in your seat or nervously fidget them with your hands as you move about, can be just as distracting as a women and her purse. Please do yourself and your neighboring guests a favor and empty your pockets of excess keys, change or other loose items before you leave your home or car.

My last and biggest pet peeve . . .

Turn off and put your cell phones away!

I find that there is nothing more annoying than someone on their cell phone in the theater. Do people really need to record the performance? Will they ever sit and view it again or will it just be another flicker of time lost in an ever-growing list of items in their data storage? Must I endure the bright light of a cell phone shining in my eyes so that someone else can record the show or answer a text? Why in the world would anyone want to pay to see a show only to talk, text or any other combination of irritating actions that take away from the experience of seeing the performance live? I mean that’s what you paid for – to see the live performance, right? Then for goodness sakes, watch the performance and GET OFF YOUR PHONE!

There is a big debate in the world of theatre on how to navigate the future of technology as we move closer and closer to a completely virtual and digital world. Should theaters allow guests to snap, click or record away during a show to increase a larger presence on social media? Understandably, it raises awareness for both the organization and the show as guests post on social media; however, you also risk taking away from the craft of a live performance by allowing it. Or, do theaters plant their feet into the ground and hold steadfast that the arts are to be enjoyed as they unfold and ensure that all audience members share in the moment without distractions? I maintain that a live performance should be enjoyed as such – live and in the moment.

But what are your thoughts?

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#Artful Living #cell phones in theater #children in theater #eating in a theatre #live performance pr

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fyrapartnersearch · 4 years

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/// 𝕿𝖍𝖎𝖗𝖉 𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊'𝖘 𝖆 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖒 ///

Hello dear roleplayers.

For those who are curious, you may call me Imp.

I’ve been hit with a stroke of fate recently which pretty much drained me of my creativity. But I am slowly recovering… and I am looking for some distraction.

 I am a lady in her twenties, with a strong penchant for roleplaying, writing, and drawing. The Holy Trinity if you will. I am a huge nerd and aesthetic lover boy - plain and simple. One of my main passions being video-games, illustrations, comics, live-action films, series and anime/cartoon shows, elements that shaped me during my years of growing up.

 It’s been a while since I’ve posted my first ever ad on any website, and I was very much positively surprised by the amazing people that have reached out to me. I’ve been roleplaying for a few years now and gradually gathered a good amount of experience throughout the years, but it’s always fun to meet and learn something new.

I have a few original ideas that I’m very interested in trying out. The concept will be posted down below.

   Name: Imp  

Age: 27 years

  Experience: 11 years  

Preferences: 1:1 Roleplaying

  Partner: Should be at least [18+], but I rather much prefer my counterpart to be 21 years or older

Timezone: Important to note! I am from Poland, so my timezone might differ from yours.   

EMAIL: [email protected]

I am a very creative sort of individual with hundreds of ideas constantly running through my impish mind. And I am very spontaneous too, so I can always adjust to a new setting, depending on how good and compelling the concept is.  Inspirations come from various sources and origins, be it a fandom (an already existing universe) or an original storyline.   Please read through these paragraphs carefully before you decide to contact me! It’s important to avoid any misunderstanding later! And I would less likely respond to a message with the title ‘Hey, wanna rp?’, since I hadn’t had any good experiences with these said messages. Thank you.      °°°·.°·..·°¯°·._.· ☥ ·._.·°¯°·.·° .·°°° °°°·.°·..·°¯°·._.· ☥ ·._.·°¯°·.·° .·°°°     Communication: It’s certainly chill. You can talk to me about whatever occupies your mind since I am very open and always happy to listen to others. I also tend to be chatty, sharing a meme or a joke every now and to loosen up the mood. If you consider choosing me as your roleplaying partner, be sure to maintain a certain consistency. I have nothing against going on a longer break or even a hiatus, but the whole `ghosting stick´ is something I have no patience for. So if you’re unsure of upholding a stable, long term partnership, feel free to skim past this ad.     Plotting: Also very important to note! I am fairly quick when it comes to building new characters, concepts, premises, storylines, backstories, etc… This means there is certain flexibility available which allows me to adjust. Even though it is a hobby, I am still extremely passionate about good storytelling and interesting character arcs. I hope to meet someone who is just as enthusiastic and willing to put in the same amount of effort as I am. If it’s only me who’s pulling all the weight, I will lose interest fast, just to get it out there and I will have to end the correspondence. Had that recently and wasn’t a fan of it. Aside from that, I love going a little crazy with the possibilities and push things to their absolute limits. Of course within the boundaries of the given setting.    Pairing & Romance: Okay, right off the bat, I am a hopeless romantic through and through. I enjoy good and strong chemistry between characters just as much as the next, and this will be no exception. I prefer the good ol’ MxF pairing because I have more experience with this. But I also like playing a FxF dynamic or MxM. Everyone is welcome! When it comes to pairing itself, I want to make sure our creations are compatible, for I hate forcing characters into a romantic relationship for the sake of progression. A natural flow is what I am aiming for. ;)    Mature? Yes, very much so: Adult and taboo topics are absolute. There’s no way around it because, if my world, it is a running theme. The adult world is not easy to handle, but it’s definitely interesting to explore. That includes violence, cursing, shocking content, and all that dark stuff. My limits are few, safe for a couple of minor pet peeves that I have, I am pretty much open to some experimentation. When it comes to action-heavy scenes (be it an intimate situation between two characters or something on a cataclysmic scale), I won’t fade to black since I am not a huge fan of censoring. However, I will not force or push my partner into something they are not comfortable with. If you want to know the extent to how far I am willing to go, what sort of content or how detailed my writing will be, you can ask me directly. As for smut or lemons, whatever you call it, it will never be the focus of any of my roleplays, but I enjoy a good erotic scene with a lot of tension (if they are good).    Boundaries: Not a big fan of things like pedophilia, necrophilia, scat, bestiality, or those dreaded ‘futas’.   Inspirations and interests: There’s a pretty broad spectrum of what I deem interesting and inspirational. From fallen angels and demon/monster hunters, mages, criminal masterminds, cybernetically enhanced characters to futuristic dystopian settings, ancient kingdoms who have fallen against the test of time. All of it causes my heart to skip a beat. For original content, I’ll just give a brief list of bullet points of the general themes that fall in line with my current interests.     Writing: My texts are lengthy, detailed, and elaborate. Third-person is usually my preferred way of playing my character unless there’s a special case where an exception can be made. Word count usually fluctuates, though I have a standard form of 400-500+ words per response. It also highly depends on the given situation. I don’t want to set anything in stone… just to give you a basic idea of what you’re in for. I also expect my partner to have an at least adequate, if not decent grasp on basic grammar and punctuation.     Doubling: Yes, absolutely! If you are prone to doubling, chances are I might accept you as my partner straight away! Although I have nothing against the simple form of roleplaying, doubling is something I’ve done since my first time joining.     Characters: Very character-driven with the main focus being on interaction. I take my time writing characters and love nothing more than well-structured sheets that illustrate the vision of their creator. (But!) There’s no need to write 10-20 pages worth of character information, but I wouldn’t want to limit you either. As for the depiction of the given character, I won’t be as presumptuous as to tell you what sort of medium you can and cannot use. Face claims such as photos of real models, illustrations, 3D models, drawings or descriptions are all okay. As long as it gets its point across, I am happy.    Aversions: A few minor things that irritate me, or let’s say, aren’t really my style are one-liners, low effort responses and out of character behaviors in canon characters. We all have different takes on characters, which is totally fine by me since I basically do the same. Though if the character acts and behaves unlike their personality dictates, it will break the immersion. I hope to stay true to my own words when saying this. If it happens on my side, just let me know! Another pet peeve of mine is that one plot that has been done time and time again…. and I’ve grown quite jaded towards it, which is ‘supernaturals trying to fit into human society’ thing… I mean, I’m not opposed to borrowing from this idea, but for me, it grew old pretty fast. Speaking from experience.    Il Passione: My wish is to find a partner whom I can have a good time with and develop some chemistry. After all it is a fun hobby. We both should have fun with what we’re writing. Brainstorming among other things is one of my favorite things to do. To see how things unfold and how the characters react to the given situation is the highlight of any story. °°°·.°·..·°¯°·._.· ☥ ·._.·°¯°·.·° .·°°° °°°·.°·..·°¯°·._.· ☥ ·._.·°¯°·.·° .·°°°      FANDOM:   I love roleplaying fandoms just as much as I have a blast with building something original universes. Worldbuilding is my preferred cup of tea… but if we opt for something more fandom inspired, I highly welcome in on expanding on the given universe and add some original lore too! The one marked with a * will be the ones I am craving the most.

Hellsing*: Haven’t done that one before and I am curious as to how things play out, especially in such a dark and mystifying universe like Hellsing. There’s a lot of subject matter that we can delve into, plus I am a big fan of powerful vampire characters!

Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure*: I would love you for this. No, seriously, I would. This fandom has sucked me into a downward spiral and there’s no possible chance of escaping this inescapable void. The absolute insanity of this franchise had me hooked from the second I laid eyes on it and I would be forever ecstatic if you’d message me on behalf of roleplaying Jojo. I have plenty of ideas for this one, just you wait.

Justice League / Young Justice / Justice League Dark*: Huge DC fan, though I much prefer the animations and comics over the live-action cinematic. Let’s just say, I like the expansive and dynamic set of possibilities and deep, well-written cast. For instance Hellblazer Constantine or Raven.

Bayonetta: Need I say more? Let’s dance boys!

APH Hetalia: That includes the 2P version ;)

The Boys: Well.. the 2nd season came out. And I am simply stoked.

   °°°·.°·..·°¯°·._.· ☥ ·._.·°¯°·.·° .·°°° °°°·.°·..·°¯°·._.· ☥ ·._.·°¯°·.·° .·°°° ORIGINAL:   My ideas for a plot are versatile in which I can give you if you ask for it (Usually the ones that aren’t listed here). It is however merely a suggestion for what we could write - not a mandatory thing. If you don’t like the idea, we can always figure stuff out and keep on home-brewing till we find something we both can enjoy. There’s no need to immediately end things if the first thing doesn’t really fire you up. The one marked with a * will be the ones I am craving the most.

I will cross the oceans of time just to find you*: So this is something that began to fascinate me more and more as time went on. Our characters existing in our current modern timeline are on the verge of a discovery that could shape the very foundation of history. After they accidentally stumble upon an artefact / edifice unrelated to any culture they’ve seen before, their presence unwittingly activates a mechanism that transports them not only to a different place, but an entirely different timeline. Upon awakening, they find themselves in a mysterious setting filled with archaic cultures, wildlife and mythological figures they believed only to be possible in fairytales. It is now up to them to navigate themselves in a time where uncertainty and superstition was rampant. Where their knowledge from the future could either prove themselves as an advantage or a fatal flaw. Every decision and word will count, forcing you to rethink and carefully plan out your actions. They also come to learn that some of these ancient myths were in fact true, and that monsters as well as godly beings did once exist. Following that trail, they will be faced with the truth as to how and why they were able to travel through time and space. But more importantly, it is where they will find their soulmates, and it isn’t where or when they think they’d be.

Supernatural*: From angels to demons, from gods to monsters, I’ve seen it all and I absolutely love it. There can be any sort of creature or being involved, ranging from vampires to sirens to elves, you have it. However, I’ve never done something quite relating to angelic beings and their offspring before. I’ve read up on Nephilim and angels and found it rather fascinating, and it’s a different approach from the usual vampire vs werewolf cliche.  

Historical and mysterious setting*: So one of my favorite eras is the Victorian time period, 30s - 40s - 80s, Renaissance or Ancient times during the rise of the Egyptian / Roman / Sumerian Empire. During these times, a dark discovery was made by man, learning that they were not alone in this world. In fact, they weren’t even the supreme race that destined themselves to dominate the world, for another race of humanoids have lied dormant deep beneath the earth, slumbering through the millennia only to be re-awakened by a cataclysmic event. These ancient humanoids are gods among men, superior in every way imaginable, and they have made it their mission to reclaim their right to rule. But their nature is not what most people think it is…

    °°°·.°·..·°¯°·._.· ☥ ·._.·°¯°·.·° .·°°° °°°·.°·..·°¯°·._.· ☥ ·._.·°¯°·.·° .·°°°     If you’re still here and haven’t fallen asleep reading through my loooong paragraphs, then I would like to thank you for bearing with me this far. I am looking forward to your messages.       Have a bright day!

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fyrapartnersearch · 4 years

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Rated -ℜ- for Roleplaying

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Come closer if you dare,

 Call me Imp, a multidimensional being who has made it her mission to travel through various dimensions in order to post her humble request on this website. Nah… just kidding, but you may still call me Imp ;) I am a lady in her twenties who has a penchant for roleplaying, writing, and drawing. You know, the Holy Trinity. I am a huge nerd and aesthetic lover boy - plain and simple. One of my main passions is video-games, illustrating, comics, live-action films, series and anime/cartoon shows, something I grew up and eventually fell in love with.   A friend recommended me to post an ad on this website and so I eventually figured, why not give it a shot? It couldn’t be any worse than receiving no messages at all. I’ve been roleplaying for a few years now and gradually gathered a good amount of experience throughout the years, but it's always fun to meet and learn something new. Name: Imp Age: 27 years Experience: 11 years Preferences: 1:1 Roleplaying Partner: Should be at least [18+], but I rather much prefer my counterpart to be 21 years or older EMAIL: [email protected] I am a very creative sort of individual with hundreds of ideas constantly swarming through in my head. And I am very spontaneous too, so I can always adjust to a new setting, depending on how good and compelling the concept is.  Inspirations come from various sources and origins, be it a fandom (an already existing universe) or an original storyline. Please read through these paragraphs before you decide to contact me! It's important to avoid any misunderstanding later! And I would less likely respond to a message with the title ‘Hey, wanna rp?’, since I hadn’t had any good experiences with these said messages. Thank you. °°°·.°·..·°¯°·._.· ☥ ·._.·°¯°·.·° .·°°° °°°·.°·..·°¯°·._.· ☥ ·._.·°¯°·.·° .·°°° Communication: It’s certainly chill. You can talk to me about whatever occupies your mind since I am very open and always happy to listen to others. I also tend to be chatty, sharing a meme every now and to loosen up the mood. If you consider choosing me as your roleplaying partner, be sure to maintain a certain consistency. I have nothing against going on a longer break or even a hiatus, but the whole `ghosting stick´ is something I have no patience for. So if you’re unsure of upholding a stable, long term partnership, feel free to skim past this ad. Plotting: Also very important to note! I am fairly quick when it comes to building new characters, concepts, premises, storylines, backstories, etc… This means there is certain flexibility available which allows me to adjust more often than not. Even though this is a hobby, I am still extremely passionate about good storytelling and interesting character arcs. I hope to meet someone who is just as enthusiastic and willing to put in the same amount of effort as I am. If it’s only me who's pulling all the weight, I will lose interest fast, just to get it out there. Aside from that, I love going a little crazy with the possibilities and push things to their absolute limits. Of course within the boundaries of the given setting. Pairing & Romance: Okay, right off the bat, I am a hopeless romantic through and through. I enjoy good and strong chemistry between characters just as much as the next, and this will be no exception. I prefer the good ol’ MxF pairing because I have more experience with this. But I also like playing a FxF dynamic or MxM. Everyone is welcome! When it comes to pairing itself, I want to make sure our creations are compatible, for I hate forcing characters into a romantic relationship for the sake of progression. A natural flow is what I am aiming for. ;) Mature? Yes, very mature: Adult and taboo topics are absolute. There’s no way around it because, in my stories, it’s a running theme. The adult world is not easy to handle, but it’s interesting to explore. That includes violence, cursing, shocking content, and all that dark stuff. My limits are few, safe for a couple of minor pet peeves that I have, I am pretty much open to some experimentation. When it comes to action-heavy scenes (be it an intimate situation between two characters or something on a cataclysmic scale), I won’t fade to black since I am not a huge fan of censoring. However, I will not force or push my partner into something they are not comfortable with. If you want to know the extent to how far I am willing to go, what sort of content or how detailed my writing will be, you can ask me directly. As for smut or lemons, whatever you call it, it will never be the focus of any of my roleplays, but I enjoy a good erotic scene with a lot of tension (if they are good). Boundaries: Not a big fan of things like pedophilia, necrophilia, scat, bestiality, and those dreaded ‘futas’. Inspirations and interests: There’s a pretty broad spectrum that I deem interesting and inspirational. From fallen angels and demon/monster hunters, mages, criminal masterminds, cybernetically enhanced characters to futuristic dystopian settings, ancient kingdoms who have fallen against the test of time. All of it causes my heart to skip a beat. For original content, I’ll just give a brief list of bullet points of the general themes that fall in line with my interests. Writing: My texts are lengthy, detailed, and elaborate. Third-person is usually my preferred way of playing my character unless there’s a special case where an exception can be made. Word count usually fluctuates, though I have a standard form of 400-500+ words per response. It also highly depends on the given situation. I don’t want to set anything in stone… just to give you a basic idea of what you’re in for. I also expect my partner to have an at least adequate, if not decent grasp on basic grammar and punctuation. Doubling: Yes, absolutely! If you are prone to doubling, chances are I might accept you as my partner straight away! Although I have nothing against the simple form of roleplaying, doubling is something I’ve done since my first time joining. Characters: Very character-driven with the main focus being on interaction. I take my time writing characters and love nothing more than well-structured sheets that illustrate the vision of its creator. Of course, there’s no need to write 10-20 pages worth of character information, but I wouldn’t want to limit you either. As for the depiction of the given character, I won’t be as presumptuous as to tell you what sort of medium you can and cannot use. Face claims such as photos of real models, illustrations, 3D models, drawings or descriptions are all okay. As long as it gets its point across, I am happy. Aversions: A few minor things that irritate me, or let's say, aren’t really my style are one-liners, low effort responses and out of character behaviors in canon characters. We all have different takes on characters, which is totally fine by me since I basically do the same. Though if the character acts and behaves unlike their personality dictates, it will break the immersion. I hope to stay true to my own words when saying this. If it happens on my side, just let me know! Another pet peeve of mine is that one plot that has been done time and time again…. and I’ve grown quite jaded towards it, which is ‘supernaturals trying to fit into human society’ thing… I mean, I’m not opposed to borrowing from this idea, but for me, it grew old pretty fast. Speaking from experience. ;( Passione: My wish is to find a partner whom I can have a good time with and develop some chemistry. After all it is a fun hobby. We both should have fun with what we’re writing. Brainstorming among other things is one of my favorite things to do. To see how things unfold and how the characters react to the given situation is the highlight of any story. °°°·.°·..·°¯°·._.· ☥ ·._.·°¯°·.·° .·°°° °°°·.°·..·°¯°·._.· ☥ ·._.·°¯°·.·° .·°°° FANDOM: I love roleplaying fandoms just as much as I have a blast with building something original universes. Worldbuilding is my preferred cup of tea… but if we opt for something more fandom inspired, I highly welcome in on expanding on the given universe and add some original lore too!

Justice League / Young Justice / Justice League Dark: Huge DC fan, though I much prefer the animations and comics over the live-action cinematic. Let's just say, I like the expansive and dynamic set of possibilities and deep, well-written cast. For instance Hellblazer Constantine or Raven.

Bayonetta: Need I say more? Let’s dance boys!

APH Hetalia: That includes the 2P version ;)

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 If you’re still here and haven’t fallen asleep reading through my loooong paragraphs, then I would like to thank you for bearing with me this far. I am looking forward to your messages.   Have a wonderful day ;)

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