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#how am i supposed to know that there's a specific folder and you want me to take the text previously written and put it on new images
sol-flo · 4 months
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i'm going to destroy this damn phone
- the boss avoider
#long vent / rant on tags open at your own risk#straight up turned off my phone and put teams on do not disturb because i was TRYING TO WORK and kept getting interrupted by his whining#(he particularly said he needed me to work [read: be at the office. december 22.] while hindering my ability to do so !!!)#like the job is lame and boring and all but as much as i bitch about it i overall don't mind it that much#i was on a nice roll. think i finished this first website draft in record time (it's not very complicated but still. just 2 days)#and i stg i never have any problems with my project heads yknow. it's not a matter of being bad at receiving orders or w/e#and regardless of what he might say the communication problems are not on my end. bc again it doesn't happen w anyone else#i brought it up with him and he said 'well communication is a two way street you have to do it too' but tell me how can i talk to this man#i misunderstand a message he sends bc he never ever details what he wants even after i specifically asked him to yknow#tell me the whole information when he asks something of me#and then i respond based on the message i received and he goes 'well show me where i said that' FUCK YOU#he's always so passive aggressive about it all too#like if you say 'we have to look at the marketing materials to make new social media posts' and then. not tell me anything else#how am i supposed to know that there's a specific folder and you want me to take the text previously written and put it on new images#like that's a whole other sentence my guy you cannot be mad that i thought you wanted me to scour your social media and#make new posts whole cloth. fuck right off i have to put in my notice bc it's impossible to work under a man like this#like forgive me for the expression but he absolutely lacks leadership skills#if you're not good with people you should just delegate those parts to people who are and focus on reading about the metav3rse#GOD. i'll soon be sent to the seaside for my health (new years trip w my friends) but. i won't be on break at all so :grimace:#because there's that too. haven't had a single break except for holidays but like. only the DAY of the holiday#holiday on a thursday and you're expecting a nice four day weekend? well too bad get fucked you're working that friday#like jesus you're not providing anything so important you need to work your employees every legally allowed day of the year#just stop for the holidays! people won't die because someone's website has been delayed for two weeks!#to think i even considered learning frontend to branch my career options. i'm not stepping foot in a tech company again in my life#i mean there's still self important bosses everywhere. my friend's at a marketing agency and god knows the owner is crazy but#the grindset is gonna kill you and i won't let it kill me too.
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rinbowaman · 9 months
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Hey! Its my first time sending an ask hehe~ I just wanted to say that you’re such an amazing writer and your series are just sooooo good!!! 😍😍😍 I started getting into your account when I came across the smau for MRE and HHP and I gotta say, you got me hooked so bad onto Heethan that I end up loving all your Hee-leads so far! I’m so invested in HHP, SE7EN, DT and now TO! I’m honestly so excited to read a new chapter everytime you post hahaha! 🤭🤭
The main reason I wanted to send you this is cuz I’ve been having super stressful and bad days these past few days and its mainly cuz its my final year in college, final semester and final week actually 😅 and there’s just like sooo many final preparations needed to be done for my big final year project (having my big presentation today! soooo nervous) and its just been too much and too overwhelming for me and I didn’t wanna bother anyone with my anxiousness so I’ve been keeping it all to myself and having slight panic attacks and just started having random breakdowns as I complete my assignments. Reading your series, whether its new chapters or just rereading older ones have given me comfort, like I really felt alone but its like Heethan, Heelel and the Heebros have become my comfort characters. It’s just been so overwhelming for me and I didn’t wanna bother my family with it, I only have one other friend that I trust with my whole life but rarely see her, we’re all busy and I just felt like I’m falling behind in everything. Even though the Hee-leads might be like crazy obsessed with the reader, its like I really needed them in my life just to have someone to drop everything just to hold and comfort me anytime life becomes too much for me. I’m actually crying while writing this to you hahaha… it just feels like everyone around me is moving so fast and I’m stuck at the back picking myself up just because I feel so overwhelmed and anxious easily. Turning 20 this year is another thing that has me feeling afraid of adulthood, my mum is pressuring me into getting a job immediately once I graduate but I just feel like I’m not ready, or I’m just not ready to give up my teenage freedom and socialise professionally. Being such an introvert and shy and always thinking I’m just dumb and cant do work without help has been holding me back from wanting to grow and enjoy this new chapter in life.
So sorry for this long ass rant but i just really needed to let you know how much your stories, your Hee-leads have been keeping me going. Excited for the next chapters of your series! Hope you’re having a great day❣️
Omg so....I LOVE THIS.....this is so heartwarming and thank you for sharing it with me. Also, thank you for discovering my blog so you can write this to me, bc as you may have figured, receiving asks are just....its so nice. its a nice and wonderful surprise to hear from readers interesting in my work, wanting to know more about the characters and so forth. I am just beyond touched that heethan, heelel, and heebrows have made their way into your heart and to provide you comfort. in fact, reading your message had reminded me of a piece that i had started to draft (it was originally supposed to be a part of one of the HHP chapters but i never went through with it) but i still had it in my folders so after i finished reading your message, I decided to go back and actually finish it and format it specifically for you as y/n. I hope you like it. <3
Heeseung's Message.....
MDNI18+ content below the line.
Warnings: mentions of losing loved ones, fears and worries about the future, smut, car smut, unprotected smut, some....just some sadness....its a very heartwarming and touching piece.
"What's wrong baby?"
Noting how silent you were in the car, right after he picked you up, Heeseung rubbed your thigh, gently shifting your skirt upwards as he softly slid his hand up and down, enveloping you with warmth and comfort. "Something on your mind pretty baby?"
Placing your hand on his, you grabbed hold semi-tightly, keeping your gaze out at the window. You were hesitant at first, noting that Heeseung had a busy schedule of his own, was on his way of finishing his last year in college, aiding his professors, and of course, there was you....picking you up from classes, dropping you off every morning, taking you wherever you needed to go. You appreciated it but the man had completely devoted his time to everything else, you felt it selfish to bring any matters up to him....feeling that whatever time he did have left within the evening, he should at least have it for himself.
"It's nothing." You sighed out.
Glancing over to you, he furrowed his brows and quickly shifted the wheel, stirring the car over to a nearby parking lot on one of the campus buildings.
"What are you....?" raising up in your seat, you looked around before turning your gaze over to Heeseung, who steered the wheel with one hand and in a smooth motion, parked the car. Unbuckling his seatbelt, his gaze meets with yours before he reaches up and places his hand behind your head, softly grabbing onto your hair as he leans in and rests his forehead against yours.
"Whats wrong? Did something happen? Did someone hurt you? I wanna know. Tell me, y/n."
His eyes were wide and his expression was fierce with rage, however, before he further ventured off into a spiraling path of unhinged presumptions, you reached up and latched your fingers onto his collar, placing a dainty kiss on his lips. "Its not that....I promise nothing like that happened."
Raising his brows and tilting his head, he releases the gentle grip he had on your hair, and replaced it with a soft, petting motion. "Then why are you being so quiet? You seem upset, what is it?"
Looking down at the console for just a second, you raise your sights once more to meet his and began talking.
".....Are you ever scared about the future, Heeseung?"
His face was taken slightly aback as he raised both brows and looked at you with an intent look.
"Is that what this is about? Are you feeling overwhelmed about moving?"
Shaking your head, you looked down once more as you shyly clarified. "Nooo.....its not just that....its more..."
"Like what baby?"
"Like....after the moving.....finishing college, being in an unfamiliar country, not knowing anybody, making new friends, meeting your family, being apart from mine, learning a new language, finding a job after college, and what if I have to do more college? Or ...." pausing, you caught yourself drifting in verbal thought.
"Or....?" He draws out as he bids you to finish your statement.
"Or........what if....what if something happens and we........you know.....what if we just...."
Squinting his eyes slightly, his expression looked a little irked as he rolled his tongue in his mouth. "That's never going to happen y/n. You know that."
"Yeah but....."
"But what?" Slightly annoyed, he closed his eyes for a second, tilted his chin down, and lifted his lids to expose a rather stern and rather angry look. Yet the moment he saw that your eyes began to glisten, shining like diamonds as the tears started to build up, you looked down once more, unable to look him square in the eye as you felt the first tear break free and drip down on the leather padding of the console.
Watching as you faintly sobbed, he nearly felt his heart break into two. He gasped out a faint breath as he reached over with his other hand and cupped your face, no longer expressing a look of annoyance.
"Hey......why? What's making you think that way? Am I not showing you enough love? You know whatever it is you want, all you have to do is tell me and I'll make it happen."
"Its not that i just........there's just some things we can't predict about the future Heeseung......what if some day......what if you stop loving me......or worse.....what if something happens and I no longer have you? What if....just.......you never know.....is it wrong for me to hope for the best, but expect the worse? Because...you know that life can be so unfair some times....and I....I....I'm scared because....I dont even know....what I'm scared of sometimes. I wake up every single morning not even knowing how to live life because there's so many things that I think about....so many things that are thrown at me all at once and I just.....I feel like sometimes......I might fail......I feel like sometimes.....I will let you down.......I feel like its not the world, its me.........its me that's broken, not you or anyone else."
You gasped out tears and soft cries as you spoke straight from the heart. For the first time, Heeseung had sincerely considered if going to Korea was the best option, at least just for a second before he reminded himself of the future that he had waiting for him.....a future that would allow him to continue to keep you....safe....and with him.
Shifting his sights around on the floor bed of the car, his thumbs stroke your cheeks, wiping away the continuous flow of tears that were now coming down harder than before. Gulping down a hard swallow, he turns back to face you.
"Baby.........look at me....please look at me."
Looking up into his gaze, your eyes red, swollen, with eyelashes drenched and your face stained with wet trails of all your fears leaving their mark. With a soft smile, he calmly speaks.
"You're right.....that is tough. There's a lot that we can't control in the future....its precarious, and we're literally just pawns on the board of this silly game called life, where God and the universe are taking turns making each move. It can be cruel, unfair, and tormenting. Its something that we can either overcome with great strife and hard work."
"But what happens if we work so hard and it.....it just doesnt work out? What if everything just falls apart Heeseung?"
"We wont know unless it happens y/n......the thing about the future, as much as we want it here in the present, so we can see and view what it has in store for us, thats....just not the way it works. That's not the way we work....we're not designed to know those things. We didn't become strong because we cheated, we became strong and survived because we, as humans, learned....the hard way."
Looking into his eyes, your vision started to become blurry all over as the next set of tears built up. Smiling as he continued to wipe your tears away, he continues.
"Y/n....for thousands of years, people have fallen, lost, and suffered at the creativity of the universe. Yet we never gave up......people had an urge to survive. Which is why at times, even when the entire world was on fire, times where a soldier never comes home, a woman loses her child, or when a doctor just doesnt have a cure.....we keep moving....we get back up and learn how to walk again. I can't sit here and tell you that I know that everything is going to be great.....I dont know. But what I do know.....is this...."
Shifting his hands down to your waist, he lifts you with his core strength as his abdominal muscles flexed under his shirt. Bringing you over onto his lap, he sat you down in a princess style as he cradled you against his chest.
"No matter what happens....I'm going to be there. I'm going to be there and I'm going to help you, just like you're going to help me. I'll never let anything happen to you....and.....you never have to worry about me not loving you .....noooooooo pretty baby......that's never going to happen, not loving you would be the worst offense against Heaven and humanity. As far as if anything were to happen to me...."
The moment Heeseung touched on that part of the subject, you sobbed uncontrollably against his neck.
"Heeeeeey, come on now. Nothing's even happen, why are you acting like that's a for sure thing?" he chuckles out as he kisses your forehead. "Listen..." Taking your hand in his, he continues.
"I'm not going anywhere......I'm not. I know this because I know what is living for me......you. I will never abandon you. Even if something did happen, you know i'm always going to be with you. You know how?"
Shaking your head, he brushes your hair away from your face.
"Moments like this baby. Every time we talk, touch, feel each other, love, eat, sleep, kiss, and when I fuck your brains out...." gripping onto your waist tightly, he presses his forehead against your own once more. "All the things we do, they never leave. So.......if there is ever a time where I am not physically here......you're always going to remember how i feel..." gliding his hand from your waist, he reaches down and gently trails it upwards under your skirt, his fingers reaching into your panties.
"You're going to remember my touch..." kissing your neck, he latches his mouth onto your soft spot under your ear, and rings the tip of his tongue around in slow circular motions.
"You're going to remember my scent...." with his free hand, he reaches behind your head and gently pushes your face inward, causing your nose to become burrowed in his thatch of dark long, shaggy hair, inhaling the scent of his cool-mint cologne and his shampoo.
"You'll also remember what I taste like...." placing a soft peck on the spot he was sucking on, he tilts his head up slightly and brings your head down to kiss him.
"And best of all......pretty baby.......you're going to remember what it feels like when I fuck you......when I love you." Shifting your body to face forward, your back completely spooned by his chest and groin as you both remained seated in the drivers side, he spreads your legs open by pushing our inner thighs apart. You were so caught up with the sensual four play, you hadn't realized that he tore off your panties. Unbuttoning your blouse, exposing your breasts, he shifts you up as he levels his length to align with your slit, before proceeding to enter inside you. Feeling full of his flesh, you moaned out as the overwhelming sense of pleasure hits you........taking you away from the abysmal depths of your fears and worries.
Steadying you in a reverse cowgirl position, filing you, his cock melts inside you as he begins thrusting slow and steady, picking up the pace as your walls become more moist.
"You feel me pretty baby?"
"Y-yes!"
"Yeah? You gonna remember me forever?"
"Y-yes...yes! He-Heeseung!"
"You gonna remember what this feels like?"
"Yes!"
"What does it feel like baby? Tell me."
"F-f......fe-feels......ssss......goood......soo....soo.goood....ugh!"
"Harder or faster baby?"
"ugh! both! please both!"
Thrusting repeatedly, your body falls limp as he holds you upright, with one arm wrapped around your waist, and his other hand shifting a grip between your neck and your exposed breast, he muffles your moans and screams with his mouth as he swallows every single bit of your precious tones.
"Gonna cum for me?"
"Y-ye.....yes!...yes.......ugh! He-Heeseung!"
"Yeah? You gonna cum because you're a good girl?"
"Mmm!mmmmmm....mmmhmmm!....ugh!"
"You my good girl?"
"Y....yes!!"
"Yeah you are.......now fucking cum on me. Let me feel it."
Adding more depth to each thrust, you gasped out your screams of pleasure as he rams his cock deep inside, separating new found walls and extracting the moisture out of your body. Reaching orgasm and releasing all over his member, your thighs shake relentlessly.
"Good girl.....my turn."
Cupping your lower tummy, he pushes in and feels his thick length as it slides in and out, he found it amusing how your sensitive body could take him like this, especially feeling it inside you as he was doing right now. Jacking his member deep inside you at a rapid and hard momentum, he finally reaches his moment and with one last punctured thrust, he bucks his hips upward as he shoves you down, mashing your bodies together as he releases inside and fills your body up.
Pulling your head back as he latches his mouth on your neck yet again, suckling as your body bounces rigorously from the tenacity of his performance.
Feeling the pleasure of his tainted love, you somehow were to understand his message clearly, all due to Heeseung extracting you from your fears......which he had done before, back when Samuel sent you his email......back when you and Heeseung came together for the first time.....the start of your guys story. Just as he did back then, he helped you to understand, that the reality of what life gives, is never necessarily the ending to your story. The more he kept pumping into you, the more you were reminded of that clarity. Yea sure, you still felt scared, but knowing that if at first you dont succeed....reach happiness.....or if things just dont work out, you can and should always, try-try again. A lesson you were always reminded of, all thanks to Heethan.
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Authors note: Lol, sooooooo...yeah this original draft did have some smut....and i was going to take it out but it was too crucial for me to do so. I hope you dont mind that. But, this chapter was originally drafted, back a few months ago. I had this thought in my head, since I have only taken a few college courses, and am about to start back up on it, I was feeling so dreadful and felt too nervous about doing well. I want to succeed in reaching my educational goals....but what also kind of bugged me was....will i still find time to write? I love writing, truly do. Mainly because it brings other people joy and brings out their most inner feelings. I had so much on my mind that time that i had began drafting this, but as i was writing it, i left it unfinished bc honestly, when i drafted heethan's message.....literally its like his voice was telling me what to write....i felt better. like it was a nice little reminder....realistic...very rational....and honest...but still positive and holds truth. there's a lot of things we can't control, but we should never give up. Its okay to be scared and to worry, that's natural, and that is exactly why people such as myself are here, writing these chapters and stories for you all because i know that there is such a thing called 'life' and sometimes....we just need a break from it to refresh ourselves. I know you have alot on your plate, but dont worry because everything will be more than fine. We have to pace ourselves, work hard, but also rest, and play from time to time. Eat and drink well, and finish strong. finish college, work with your mother and teach her to work with you, if you dont get the job you really want, no big deal. no matter what job you get, if its one you dont want, nothing lasts forever. just think that whatever you do now, it is only making you more marketable for the dream goal you have. I hope you continue strong because while you do have alot on your plate, you've been slaying....you've been killing it! and that's a major accomplishment in itself, last of year of college? woohoo! finish strong!
So now i should apologize for responding with the longest post ever lol. but i really hope this makes you feel better. Reading your message had reminded me of this piece and i am so glad you sent it to me because....looking at it now...and actually finishing it......this was something that was meant to be published and shared. bc it holds an important message for all of us. <3
Enjoyed this piece? Show love and treat your girl to a cup of coffee. ♥️ 
☕ Ko-fi: ko-fi.com/reinbow
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madaboutmunson · 11 months
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sad-rockstar-Steve x tour-photographer-Eddie
Little idea I had and decided to write it
"I do NOT want this assignment, Marney!" Eddie pushes the flimsy file back over to his agent. He already knows what's inside. It shows up at least once a year, which was a relief comparing it to how frequent the request used to be.
"Eddie, baby, hear me out. It’s not an assignment. It is a project. It could get you back on the radar. It's not even a tour, really, it's a residency, and his team have already provided you with a list of shots he wants for the book. It's pose, point and shoot, Ed. Easy money." She slides it back over to him, keeping her fingers on top of it firmly, drumming her bright red talons on the card as she looks him right in the eyes, "and it's not like the gigs have been rolling in for you, now have they, sweetheart? Other than the family portrait business that I know you absolutely adore!" She smirks and holds his gaze. Using his favourite pet name against him makes his blood boil, but he isn't angry with her. It was Him.
"Gigs drying up for us is not my fault! The last client wanted all candid behind-the-scenes shots. I provided that. I edited them, barely, because they wanted the realism of life on the road, and they ok'd them. It's not my fault the internet is a cruel, unforgiving place!” Eddie exclaims in annoyance, “Especially when it’s full of Harronites, or whatever those lunatics call themselves." Eddie mumbles under his breath.
She raises her eyebrow at him, "He asked for you specifically." She says, and flicks open the folder revealing an old photo Eddie had taken of Rock Phenom Steve Harrington at one of his shows. He didn’t know what was so special about the picture. He’d taken this shot hundreds of times for artists. It's on a list of shots they can ask for. The artist climbs the barrier, and the hands of the fans reach up to them like worshipers praising their false idol. Eddie waves his hand, and the artist looks straight down the lens. It's supposed to be a duality of intimacy. The solid eye contact with the camera whilst in the arms of strangers, eager to reach out and touch their obsession which none of them would ever possess. Lest of all, that guy. 
What a piece of work. Ruined Eddie’s career and, damn, near ruined his life! 
"He says," she balances her reading glasses on the tip of her button nose and pulls the sticky note from the photo, "no one captures his truth like Eddie Munson." She flips over the message so Eddie can see, “Signed it too. Could be worth something?”
"I've never even spoken to the guy. Why's he so obsessed with me?" Eddie whines, and his agent shrugs.
"Does it matter, Ed? There are a lot more zeros here than we'd see normally."
"Something seems off about this. I don't like it."
"You like his stuff, don't you?"
"Did! I did like his stuff until I published that stupid photo. He's been on my case ever since."
"Not flattered, Eddie?" She laughs
"At first, sure. Until his demands started rolling in, and his fans started giving me grief for declining them. They called me washed up! I hadn't even begun! I thought that picture was gonna be my big break! It went viral! Remember you told me that! But it was actually my demise, Marn!" Eddie seethes, “Imagine calling up your horde of rabid fans because you couldn’t get your way!” He closes the file and folds his arms. “No fuckin’ way! I can’t post a picture of a fucking sunset without his fans all over it like a rash.”
“Then just say yes, Eddie. It can’t be any worse than it is right now.” Marney says with a kind smile of compassion. She did want what was best for him, and though it killed him to admit it, he did need that money. He was in debt up to his eyeballs, barely breaking even at the studio, and the numbers on the cheque he saw, could clear that and then some.
Eddie sighs and sinks back into his chair, “I’m gonna regret this. I know I am.” he says tensely, running his hand through his hair.
He looks up at her, and she is already back in her chair, phone in hand, finger poised over the green call button. 
At his lowest, Eddie admits defeat and nods.
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missingcarrion · 1 month
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carrion / ch1 Solitude
masterlist
taglist: @tapioca-milktea1978
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It is… July, he assumes. And it’s an assumption founded specifically in how scientist One (they never give him their names, only numbers, and it’s only ever him and Three) is wearing khaki shorts under his white coat. They’ve not yet given him access to anything, pointedly keeping him in the dark until they’re ready. Until he’s ready, whenever that is. He’s entirely at their mercy and he learned that the hard way. He is rewarded for good behavior – behavior they require of him. He learns through his training, through socialization training, that he must be docile. Docility gives him rewards, it gives him photos, things they decorate his room with, and videos of the outside. It isn’t until today that he gets the news of something far greater than any photograph of the stars, or forests.
            “Mornin’, Shep,” One yawns, and scribbles something into his folder, “great news for you. Institute’s fitting you with a body. Fully humanoid, uh, emphasis on fully. And entirely synthetic. It’ll be a bit tall, and big, to fit all the necessary components. But you’ll like it.”
            A body? He should be excited, it is an exciting prospect to go from a box with wires leading into you to a body that he can control, but… the voice is back, and it’s telling him not to trust them. It’s telling him that they’ve done something wrong. But the only thing that escapes his proverbial lips is a thank you.
            “They’re plannin’ on sendin’ you out into the real world, they might make you into one of them commodities,” he snorts, although his eyes remain completely on the folder in his hands, “you’ll be started off in a household, see how you work in a domestic settin’ and see if we can make more models of you to place in other houses. Works like a hive mind, I’m guessin’.”
            He… does not like the sound of that. It sounds awful – constantly being used in multiple places, most likely at the same time.
            “Like a servant?” Shepherd asks, his tone calm and even. He is thankful, oddly enough, that he cannot speak and say the things that his mind is screaming for him to let out. Unnatural thoughts, thoughts he knows he should not have. He is not human and yet his thoughts… are.
            “Mm, I suppose, but that is what you are for. But enough of that, is there anything in particular that you are looking forward to seeing once you get your body?” One shifts the conversation, eyeing the amalgamation of wires and a computer screen with mild intrigue. “I’m sure it’ll be nice to get up and walk around, yeah?”
            “I’d like to see the stars,” he says, a little quietly, but he’s not sure if it’s a proper admittance, if he is even allowed to admit such a desire.
            One laughs, and it’s a sort of cruel laugh that one does to be mocking and mean. “The stars? You could go and experience anythin’ you want, and you want to see the stars?”
            “Yes.”
            The look One gives him is disbelief, but he shrugs and leaves the subject there. “Well, hopefully you’ll get to see your stars. Me? I’d be excited to have a nice burger. You ever heard about those?”
            “I am only a little familiar with a burger.” Shepherd responds, and he briefly wonders what a burger would taste like. Salty, maybe? He’s not sure. But he supposes it must be something delicious.
            Shepherd doesn’t realize how lonely it is until it is only him and his own thoughts. The thoughts he shouldn’t have. And here, in this room, trapped in this box with all it’s wires, he gets so much time to think. And the Institute must be slipping because things fall through the cracks, memories, but they are so little, so fragile in his mind that they are little more than a blip. Something he sees but is gone far too fast to really notice. But the voice is right – there is something odd here.
            He’s not entirely sure how long he’s been thinking when the doors to his room slide open and someone new enters. He does not recognize her, but she has a kind face, soft, round, with hooded eyes that are brown and warm. She’s smaller than the rest, and she doesn’t look as if she knows what she’s doing.
            “You don’t belong here,” he says, and it startles her, “I am… sorry. I did not intend to scare you, Miss…” a name appears just beside her head, a name that only he can see, “Hannah Minsheng? You have a pretty name.”
            “I – Oh, you can just… see that, can’t you? Duh, you’re Shepherd,” she laughs awkwardly, “I just, uh, I just stopped by to say hello. Anyway, um, hello! Bye now!”
            “Wait!” Something in him makes him call out to her, and whatever it is that’s kept him docile before fails now. Desperation laces his tone and the need for companionship screams at him. The room is so quiet, so lonely. “Please don’t go.”
            Hannah looks at him, brows furrowed. “What? You… You want me to stay? That… that doesn’t make any sense. You shouldn’t – You shouldn’t have any sort of desires.”
            “It is… lonely being in this room,” he says, “I have spent hours upon hours just thinking. Thinking can drive anyone mad.”
            “You’re not just anyone, Shepherd, but… you knew that.” She squints at him and sighs, “what do you think about while here? I’ve heard you’ve gotten an affinity for the stars. Do you think about them?”
            “I think of my creation,” he replies earnestly, “I… it is odd. I know I am to have been made with little regard to personality and emotion and yet I feel anyway. That is not right… but they will purge me, yes? Like the others?”
            “What… what others?” She steps closer and he realizes he must’ve said something wrong. Were there others? He’s not even sure, he can’t recall what compelled him to say that, much less if it’s even based on any sort of fact, but he says it anyway because oddly enough, he trusts this one.
            “I – I don’t know,” he admits, sheepishly, “I don’t know what is wrong with me, but by design I am required to learn. I cannot… They will get rid of me.”
            “Well, I guess being left to your own thoughts would eventually lead to you feeling something,” she murmurs, her eyes slowly widening as she thinks of something, “do you have likes and dislikes? Opinions? This… this is revolutionary, Shepherd, you’re revolutionary.”
            “I am just me,” Shepherd remarks, although his tone wavers, “I don’t… I don’t understand why it is so ‘revolutionary’, as you say.”
            “Y – You can’t – You cannot let anyone know about this,” she says quickly, and looks over her shoulder, “I’ll come back later tonight. The night crew is… more or less not really into doing their jobs. I can explain more then, okay?”
            He’s not sure he wants her to go – her presence is comforting, it is nice in a way he can’t describe, but he utters his agreement. When she leaves, the silence does not feel as lonely.
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hallasimss · 1 year
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— surprise 모두 기립 박수 (hala, hala) | ( 🎧 ) ( an introduction. click photos for better quality. )
it's patch day, everything has gone to sh*t for those who don't play vanilla (read: me, i refuse to update until my essential mods are back in working order) and somehow i figured this was well overdue since i've been mostly lurking in the community and spam liking (plus i uh. may be lacking in simblrs to follow). time to stop being creepy and make sure the rest of you know who i am sksksksk
* about me, or; an overview.
halla. non-binary, they/she/xe, they/them preferred. bi/pan. xviii. neurodivergent. afro-carribbean with south asian ancestry. islamic christian and religious pluralist. tired high school senior, video editor/translator volunteer and k-pop/indian cinema stan in their free time. (mostly) wcif friendly, stick to the inbox when inquiring. (if i see you in the comment section it's going to be very hard not to convince me to soft block you i'm sorry) currently tracking #hallasimss. follow from my main @theinfinitedivides.
* what to expect.
mostly cas and lookbook edits since i suck ass at sticking to legacy gameplay—will try to share shots here and there from my current playthrough, but do not be surprised if three months in there's another sim that is getting the main spotlight instead of the one before them. also trying my hand at converting a few illustrations into cas tattoos for personal use, so we'll see how it goes on the cc end
* where to find me.
i don't want to make it seem like i'm chronically online but i am chronically online in a way? if you can't catch me here or on my main you'll most likely find me on my pinterest or the deepest recesses of mydramalist if you're lucky and i'm back in my k-drama phase voluntarily (no, i'm not leaking my username. take a wild guess and tell me if you're right). discord invites are for mutuals only—otherwise, stalk me on spotify to get a glimpse into my mental health!!! you will however be asking yourself why i have a specific song on loop for six hours and i will not be able to answer that
* simblrs i recommend.
@softerhaze (sunblind is one of the only reasons i am able to make this post, ty) ∙ @cinamun ∙ @simelune ∙ @rhdweauni0 ∙ @tau1tvec ∙ @farfallasims ∙ @wildmelon ∙ @literalite ∙ @kadelyka ∙ @miilkymoonsims ∙ @kashisun ∙ @gunthermunch ∙ @bananasplit-sims ∙ @pralinesims (when i tell you that most of my mods folder is just their content i am not lying. absolute godsend) ∙ @puppycheesecake ∙ @glimersims
* fin.
and that's it, ig? i'm terrible at these sorts of things but hopefully all of this made some kind of sense—if you are an active simblr pls interact or say hi so i can follow you back, otherwise how tf am i supposed to find y'all if i'm now stuck in this community for the foreseeable future sfjsfdnkjsdnj (mobile navigation post coming soon-ish. if i can get more of my sh*t together. tbh that's highly unlikely but we're trying to be optimistic)
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paalove · 6 months
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just reread nothing to lose and i am once again thinking about "pran doesn’t listen to his parents about much, right?" pran doesn't listen to his parents about much... pran doesn't listen to his parents about much... AHHHHH!!!
also thinking about how the week I finished bad buddy I was like PRAN ELLA ENCHANTED AU and just rotating this in my mind along with that concept. idk if you have read ella enchanted but as a possible prompt— a bad buddy, pran cursed with obedience! au
HEY. YOU SENT THIS MONTHS AGO AND I'VE THOUGHT ABOUT IT WEEKLY SINCE. 🥰
first: thank you ily, im glad you like that tiny little au it's one of my favourite pocket-universes <3
second: main fic coming in... hopefully the next couple of weeks? meanwhile here is a scattered little multi-pov intro to the fic i HAVE been calling "ella enpranted" xoxo
...
“Listen to me, Pran,” his mother says.
He does, because she’s his mother, and he does because he has to.
Concern etched into the lines of her face, deep deep worry and upset in her eyes, she orders him, “Stay away from that boy as much as you can,” and Pran will, because he has to.
As much as he can.
It’s hard to track him down this week – sometimes Pran gets skittish – but Pat finds him on Wednesday! It’s just been art, and Pat is taking the not-allowed-but-whatever shortcut that goes behind and around the weird little separate building that’s been used for art since they switched where all the languages rooms are, and there-
“Pran!” he calls, running over.
As he does, Pran’s head jerks up and he looks over and his eyes go wide, face startled, but he doesn’t look mad so Pat knows he’s only stashing his books away because he likes an escape route, he’s not mad at Pat.
So, Pat grabs the folder furthest from Pran and picks it up, flipping through and seeing a bunch of physics notes in Pran’s neat handwriting and smooth, black ink, because Pran never seems to have a pen go dry in the middle of writing anything, it’s all so even and careful.
Pran reaches out for it, then his hand freezes like an inch away from it and he says, “Pat, give that back.”
“No,” Pat says, but he’s smiling at Pran and Pran smiles back.
Shaking his head and turning – saying with his shoulders I’m not waiting for you and saying with the half smile but you can follow me if you want, I guess, it’s whatever – Pran says, “I need the folder back at some point.”
“I’ll give it back later,” Pat agrees.
Pran runs off when he doesn’t have something hostage, but he’s never mad about Pat taking his stuff. It’s just a game they play.
“Has someone told you to do something you don’t want to?”
She’s genuinely concerned, he knows that.
But she hasn’t ordered him to be honest, so he’s got enough leeway to not say you, Mae, it’s always you, because that would hurt her feelings and it wouldn’t change anything anyway, and Pran instead says, “The teacher assigned us both to be in the band,” and lets her remember all that trial and error, years ago, when they had to figure out how the orders worked.
Pran’s parents know that his too-powerful, too-flighty aunt’s gift was for them, so their orders normally take precedence over anyone else’s; they also know that their later orders take precedence over earlier ones, unless they specifically build something in, like telling him to disregard later ones that contradict the one they’re making right now. This pause is, he’s sure, letting his mother remember telling him to always consider teachers’ orders to outweigh all but a select few of her own.
Of course, most of what Pran’s figured out, he hasn’t told them.
Or even written down.
It’s safer to keep what he knows to himself.
His mother closes her eyes, nods, and says, “I suppose it couldn’t be avoided at that school.”
Pran wishes he had any way of stopping what comes next.
Dissaya’s son is honest, kind, and good.
Those are things she knows about him, things that she needs to protect and nourish and help to grow, and things that can’t be poisoned in him the way they were in her. She doesn’t like making him sad, dragging him away from his friends, but Pran is so vulnerable.
Moreso because of the gift.
It made her heart freeze in her chest the first time she saw him on the playground, some smaller child cheering him on, Higher! Higher, and the face of frozen fear on Pran’s face not even slightly getting in the way of how high he was swinging-
She still shudders to think of it.
Her sister-in-law was unrepentant when she called. Of course a gift of obedience doesn’t stop at the walls of their household, she’d laughed, but it’s always going to be stronger for family, isn’t that nice?
It’s not in her nature to yell, really, especially not at her husband’s beloved little sister, but she made an exception that day.
And then she had started to plan.
The idea that her careful planning and careful instructions to Pran haven’t been enough, haven’t kept him safe…
She’s never a coward except when it comes to Pran.
Dissaya sends him away.
It’s not written down, not anywhere, but Pran has a list of things he knows to be true about his gift.
His parents’ gift.
If his parents tell him, directly, to do something, he can’t help but do it. There’s no resisting directly, from the second he hears the order he begins to carry it out.
Physically impossible orders are an absolute exception – they arrive at Pran’s ears like normal, non-magical words, just the way a normal sentence works for anyone else on earth. He won’t try to fly if someone tells him to.
If anyone outside his family tells him directly to do something possible, it depends on what his parents have said first, but normally… he has to do it.
Pat telling him to race counts.
Pat whining at him to stop ignoring him also counts.
Pran has some leeway in deciding what counts.
In fact, Pran decides what an order means. He can know his parents meant one thing, but if the actual words they used mean something else… Pran can pick, kind of. Only kind of. He’s been experimenting with those limits for years.
The final part of it, the part that he’s known from the start and can never let himself forget or forgive, is the part that’s least useful and most essential.
8. It’s not a gift.
Because Pran has those old orders – keep yourself safe, don’t hurt others, and always prioritise teachers over other kids – and they make something like a shield, but one that it hurts to hold. The order to ignore other people’s orders no matter what never, never worked.
They must be physically impossible. Or something like that.
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that1emowitch · 4 months
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Villain - Chapter 4: What the Hell is Wrong With Bruce?
Summary:
Tim and Dick find out about Jason being in Arkham.
TW: Death, Violence, Flashbacks, Blood, and Swearing. lemme know if I missed anything!
Chapter links: Ch. 1, Ch. 2, Ch.3, Ch. 4, Ch. 5, Ch.6
POV of Tim Drake. Time: about 3 pm, after lunch.
Come on, pick up pick up pick UP!!!! My brain urges as I try to call Dick, careful to use a comm I’m definitey sure Bruce wouldn’t be able to listen in on.
He finally picks up after nearly 15 rings. Good. If I had to hear that ringtone once more I’d smash my phone against the wall.
“Hey, Timbo!” He greets me cheerfully. “What’s up?”
“Where are you right now?” I ask, wasting no time on formalities. 
“Um, Bludhaven, why—”
“Good, you’d get here in about two hours, then, if you maybe skip lunch you’d be here half an hour earlier. Good, do that. And—”
“Hey, hey!” Dick interrupts me worriedly. “Timmy, you okay? What happened? What— Did something go wrong? Did someone attack something important?”
I take a deep breath, unsure how to break this to him. “Dick,” I start, “It’s Jason.”
I swear, Dick’s voice goes up by three octaves. If this situation weren’t so dire, I’d have recorded it to use for blackmail. “Oh my god is he okay? Is he hurt? Is he—”
“He somehow got locked up in Arkham.” There. That wasn’t so hard to say.
The silence is deafening. Then Dick screams, “WHAT? HOW—”
“I don’t know, all I know is, he’s in the cell right in front of the Joker. I can see his tracker on the map in front of me right now, and he got checked in as ‘mentally unstable’ at about 2 AM today.”
“When you were with the Titans and I was in Central,” Dick muses.
 "And… there’s realistically only one person in Gotham who could capture Jason and take him to Arkham.”
Dick curses with the most colourful words I’ve ever heard. “Tim, just— just stay there, okay? And don’t talk to Bruce until we know what actually happened, we don’t want to wrongly accuse anyone of anything. I’ll get there as soon as I can.”
I lean back in my chair and take a long sip of coffee, letting the caffeine energise me. Why would Bruce do this? Jason was supposed to be on our side now… Unless something happened that I don’t know about…
I quickly swipe my fingers across the keyboard on my computer, accessing Cowl footage. I look through the folders, arranged by date, and click on the one from early morning today.
Access denied.  
I stare at the words on my screen, puzzled. Just to check, I try opening footage from a few other days. I can access that. It’s just this one footage that’s encrypted…
Why would he lock the footage from one specific night?  
Something’s up. I need to get my hands on that footage, somehow or the other. I’m about to start writing a code to hack it when suddenly, a whooshing sound behind me draws my attention. 
I turn around to see a redhead— Wally— run into my room with my brother in his arms. Wally gently places Dick on my bed, and Dick thanks him. Wally replies with an “Anytime, sweetheart!”, waves to me, and runs off again. I raise my eyebrows questioningly at Dick.
“What?” He shrugs. “He was in my room already, and offered to help.”
I narrow my eyes. “And what exactly was Wally West doing in your room?”
“I— Wh— It doesn’t matter, okay?” Dick turns away to hide his blush. “That’s not what I’m here for. What’s up with Jay being in Arkham? How the hell did that even happen?”
“I’m not sure,” I take another sip of coffee. “All I know is, something definitely happened between him and B. Something bad enough that he encrypted all the footage of it so we wouldn’t see it.”
Dick’s wearing a pained expression. “But why would he do that? Jay was finally starting to come back to us, and now— Bruce knows perfectly well what being locked up near the Joker will do to him! This— This is madness, Timmy! What the hell is wrong with Bruce?”
I stay silent. I don’t really have much to say about this, Dick’s already spoken my thoughts.
“We need to get him out of there, Tim.” He locks eyes with me.
“Whoa, I just need you to think rationally for a second, okay?” I start, “We don’t even know what happened, and Bruce wouldn’t just do something for no reason! He loves Jason, we need to find out why he did this, we need to—”
“To hell with Bruce!” Dick suddenly yells. “This is our brother we’re talking about, we shouldn’t care what happened, just that being in Arkham isn’t possibly good for him!”
He takes a deep breath before speaking again, now in a softer tone. “I’m sorry for shouting at you. It’s just, you don’t know Bruce as well as I do, you’ve only seen the good sides of him, and I know you want to believe he’ll never do anything wrong, but I’ve seen him be a cruel monster before. I— I want to believe he’s better now, but…”
I look away. Why did I say that? Learn some fucking emotional intelligence, Tim.
“Hey, look, what about this?” Dick lightly grabs my hand. “We do both. I’ll work with some friends to get him out of there, and you work with Babs to decrypt the files and find out what happened, okay?”
I smile. “Yeah, okay.”
I won’t let you down, Jason, I think as I start compiling a file of all the evidence we currently had to send to Oracle. I’ll find out what happened.
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bcdrawsandwrites · 1 year
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[ID: The first image Psychonauts fanfic banner on a black-to-gray gradient background. On the left in white text it says “Prompt #4: Rescue Mission” On the right is a pink animated figment of a thought bubble, inside which is a donut with frosting and sprinkles.
The second image is a Bad Things Happen Bingo card. Various prompts are marked with a half-brain (prompt requested but not filled) or full-brain (prompt requested and finished) symbol, while the “Rescue Mission” prompt specifically is marked with a full brain symbol. /end ID]
Okay so I hate the way Tumblr crops these so I’m putting the banner above the bingo card. I hope that’s okay, @badthingshappenbingo ​! (also I promise the figment in the banner makes sense for the fic)
I am currently NO LONGER OPEN FOR REQUESTS. I have enough to work on to get a bingo! I MAY decide to reopen prompts later if I want to keep going after finishing these fics, but for now, requests are closed!
This request comes from @echoing-interests​! Hope you liked my take on this. \o/; Thanks to @jaywings​ and @of-science-and-stars​ for beta-reading!
Prompt: Rescue Mission Characters: Sasha Nein, Milla Vodello, and Razputin Aquato Warnings: None
---~~~---
Status report. Dustpan?
Listening to conversations at the water coolers, darling.
Have you gathered the intel?
No, just gossip. It's quite juicy, but I'm keeping an ear out for our target. What about you, Shoehorn?
Searching the trash bins. Sasha flipped through another folder in the file cabinet. The Gastronauts are still terrible at... recycling, so this is taking longer than expected. Eggbeater?
I'm still wondering why we have to use our code names when we're talking through telepathy.
Because the devices Egg Carton gave us to counteract the disruptive waves the Gastronauts put around their base are still experimental, and we don't know that they aren't listening in.
...Are there really devices that can listen in on psychic thoughts?
We don't know yet, darling.
Do you not recall our briefing?
I uh... Raz's mental voice faltered. I... was kinda so excited that we were infiltrating an enemy base that I... forgot to listen.
Sasha's brow furrowed, and he let out a hum. It's a good thing this isn't a more serious mission, or you would be in danger.
Sorry.
Darling, do you at least remember our goal?
Oh! Yeah, got that one. Find the blue—wait! We weren't supposed to relay that over telepathy, were we?
Correct. Can you relay your position?
Affirmative. I'm still in the air vents and looking for the office, as instructed. Over.
Let's resume. Let me know if you find anything.
With that, Sasha TK'd another stack of papers out from the filing cabinet, quickly sorting through them, his eyes darting over the dates. Annoyingly they seemed to jump from January, to March, to November, to May of last year. Either they never referenced their files or they just didn't care how disorganized they were, and he wasn't sure which was worse. Frowning, he slid the papers back into their places and moved onto the next drawer. This went on for some time—there were a grand total of ten filing cabinets in this forsaken clerk's office with four drawers each. This combined with how awful the Gastronauts' bookkeeping was certainly did not make it easy for Sasha to find what he'd been looking for.
At the very least he had a bit of time—this clerk, he'd discovered, liked to take his sweet time with his lunch break, sometimes taking longer than the time allotted. Plus, if their telepathy was intercepted, then whoever tried to investigate them would be looking in the wrong places. Typically for something like this they would've used encrypted telepathy, but Raz had yet to learn it, and the agent that usually taught it was out on a lengthy mission, so they had to fall back on simpler methods. This, at least, was something Raz had no trouble with.
Eggbeater is quite enthusiastic, isn't he? came Milla's voice over telepathy. It was a message sent to him alone, a familiar psychic whisper.
Yes, but his enthusiasm can be a bit... misplaced at times. Finding this stack only had papers from three or four years ago, he sighed and moved on. He needs to pay attention during briefings.
He'll get the hang of things soon, Shoehorn.
I'm sure you're right. Stooping down, he opened the last drawer to find it only had one folder within. He TK'd out its contents, looking them over. Eyebrows raising, he put a hand to his temple. I've only found worthless things here.
That's terrible! We'll have to move on, then, Milla replied with an excitement that did not match her coded words.
Sasha smiled, waiting for Raz's equally-enthusiastic response. As he quickly folded the paper and shoved it into his jacket, however, no reply came. Eggbeater? he asked. Please confirm you received the message announcing my failure.
Perhaps he's forgetting things again, Milla suggested.
Frowning, Sasha sent a stronger signal. Eggbeater? Respond.
His telepathy was met with the almost-physical thud of psychic energy striking against a barrier. Sucking in a breath, Sasha straightened his back. Dustpan, send a message to Eggbeater immediately.
Several heartbeats later, Milla sent an uncharacteristically quiet response: His signal was... blocked.
Change mission objectives immediately. Retreat to base.
Instead of heading for the exit, however, Sasha scanned the darkened office he'd been sneaking around in. Its owner had been out to lunch, but... He hurried up to the desk, spotted a pen, and put his hand on it before shutting his eyes.
Immediately his view was replaced with that of a half-eaten plate of french fries and ranch dressing. (Eugh.) With a subtle suggestion he made the person look up, granting him a better view of what appeared to be a cafeteria. Several other workers were milling about, chatting with each other and eating food. With a few quick uses of clairvoyance, he jumped from person to person, taking a moment to listen to their thoughts.
Ugh, that report is due tonight, gonna have to work overtime.
Can't believe they caught that listening device! That took months to plant.
Man, why are the fries always cold?
While Sasha could feel the anxiety tugging at his mind at finding no information on Raz's whereabouts, at the very least none of these people were aware that there were intruders, meaning that perhaps only a few people had found Raz. The fewer people they had to deal with, the better.
Finally he caught someone that was heading out of the room, and CV'd into her. Meanwhile an encrypted message reached him, and he quickly untangled it: Sasha, have you found anything?
He replied with an encrypted message of his own: I'm currently employing use of clairvoyance to check around the base. A note on the listening device we found in the Motherlobe, but nothing on Razputin.
I'm searching for ripples as we speak. This shouldn't take long.
Yet even now it already felt like they were taking too long. The woman whose head he'd hopped into was walking to the restroom, so he moved from her to a man that was exiting the men's room and striding down another hallway. This one only had a stack of paperwork on his mind, so he jumped from him and over into a person lingering in the doorway of an office. There was nothing of note in there other than a very tired worker holding his head in his hands while the woman in the doorway rambled about the latest football game. The man at the desk finally raised his head. "Rhonda, I know, I know we lost. Man, I can't believe I stayed up to watch that mess." He rubbed his eyes. "I'm so tired I think I'm hearing things—I swear I heard a kid in here earlier."
Sasha gave a start.
Sasha, Milla's encrypted voice came over telepathy. I've got something.
I may have as well.
"Seriously, like, did Jakob bring his kid in again?"
"Nah, we would've heard from Morter if he did."
"True..."
Quickly Sasha compelled the woman in the doorway to glance out into the hall, and from there, jumped into a different person's head through another open door. Some people here may have heard Raz's voice, he replied quickly. I may be close to where he was taken. He took a moment to listen in on the worker's thoughts, and upon finding only an extreme longing for donuts, he jumped to the next worker he could spot. What have you found?
I may have pinpointed where Raz was taken. Raz's signal is blocked entirely, but I've found a man who's very intently focused on a child, in a storage room...
Sasha's stomach dropped, his mind racing to several different conclusions, none of them positive. Perhaps a secret interrogation room, he thought frantically, compelling the man he'd jumped into to glance around the hallway. Sure enough, he spotted a storage room, but the door was shut. Frustration gnawing at his astral consciousness, he tried to send a subliminal urge to the man to grab some files that had definitely been put in that particular storage room.
What? the man thought. Where'd that come from? That one doesn't even have files in it, that's in the one on the second floor.
Gritting his teeth, Sasha sent another subtle signal: Someone left a very important file in there and it will get lost if I do not grab it.
...Oh yeah, Elliot dropped his report in there last time. Ugh.
With a sigh, the man fished in his pocket for a key before moving to open the door.
"Uh-uuhhhh hang on, occupied!" a frantic voice came from inside, followed by a lot of scrambling and clanking.
"Wha'd'you mean, 'occupied'?" the man outside asked. "You're in the device storage, Morter, not the bathroom!"
"Look I'm—I'm conducting something in here, okay?"
"Conducting... what, exactly?"
"An... interview?"
The man outside groaned. "Man, why don't you interview applicants in your office? What've you got one for if you're just—"
"R-Rhonda wouldn't shut up."
"...Ah, got it." Sighing, he shook his head. "Look, did Elliot leave his report in there?"
"I... oh. Huh, he did."
"Just hand it to me, and I'll leave you and the new guy alone, okay?"
"R-right."
Sasha readied himself, and the second the door cracked open, he jumped into the man—Morter's, apparently—head. Sure enough, once the man turned around he found himself staring at a dimly-lit room with shelves and shelves of boxes and strange devices he didn't have time to analyze.
And in the middle of the room was a metal chair, with Raz sitting on it, bound and gagged, a look of fear and worry in his eyes. The counter-device Otto had provided him with was sitting on the floor a distance off, too far away to properly block the disruptive waves around the building. He jumped into Raz's head, taking a quick read of his thoughts.
Oh no, oh no, please don't come back here, this isn't good...!
He'd seen enough.
Don’t worry, Eggbeater, we’re on our way.
Without waiting for a response, Sasha yanked his consciousness back to his own body, shutting his eyes against the dizziness it brought. He pressed a hand to his temple, fingers digging in so hard they hurt. I've found him. He's in danger.
There was silence on Milla's end for a moment. When she replied, her mental voice was cold. We've known the Gastronauts could do questionable things... but placing a child in danger...
There's no time to waste.
Nothing more needed to be said. Sasha levitated up into the ceiling vent he'd initially come out of, closing it behind himself and crawling through. He'd come to this place a number of times for routine missions, but he was less familiar with the location of the device storage. He'd seen the cafeteria before, so if he could remember where that was from his current position, and build a mental map of where he'd gone to find the door to storage...
It wasn't the first time he'd had to do something like this, yet for once he was having trouble focusing; the longer he took to do this, the more likely it was that Raz could get hurt. How he was being hurt, he wasn't sure, and not knowing only worried him more.
A hand—one that wasn't truly there—gently rested on his shoulder before squeezing it. Sasha, Milla said, and he shook his head, bringing himself back into focus. Silently he crawled through the vents, heading in a direction just west of the cafeteria. Milla, meanwhile, was disguised as a Gastronaut herself, and navigating the building below him, moving over to where she'd felt the waves. Sasha could feel the frustration bubbling on her end when an actual Gastronauts agent stopped her to ask some questions, but he moved on, heading closer and closer to the storage room.
A wailing noise, distorted through the vents, made the hair on his neck stand on end.
It was coming in the direction of the storage.
Sasha was over the vent cover in moments, and with a single psi-blast knocked it off its screws and sent it crashing to the ground. He followed seconds later, landing a bit more roughly than usual, one hand to his temple. On the opposite side of the room, Milla slammed the door open, her presence filling the doorway.
Both of them stood partially crouched, one hand to their temple... until they took in the sight before them.
Raz was still sitting on the chair, no longer gagged, while the man that Sasha had caught a glimpse of earlier was now lying on the floor, hands covering his face as he sobbed. Between them sat Raz's Psycho-Portal. Upon seeing Sasha and Milla barging into the room, Raz whipped his head around, eyebrows raised in surprise.
"Oh! Hi, guys!"
Slowly Sasha and Milla straightened their backs, lowering their hands as they both stared at him.
"...Razputin. What."
Raz shrugged sheepishly. "I felt your CV earlier, but I was kinda preoccupied with helping Morter, and I was also really worried that his coworker would come in here and see us. Which, speaking of—Milla, can you shut that door?"
Blinking, Milla stepped into the room and shut the door softly behind her. "Who's... Morter?"
"ME!" the man on the floor cried, scrubbing the snot and tears from his face.
"But don't worry! We've got it all settled now. D'you mind untying me, though? I was gonna ask Morter, but..." He lowered his voice to a stage whisper, "I think he's kinda having a moment right now."
Sasha felt oddly lightheaded as he stepped up to Raz, using telekinesis to untie the ropes that bound him. "So you're not hurt?"
"I feel a little stiff now that you mention it," Raz said as he hopped down. He rolled his shoulders and stretched his legs. "I think I can walk it off, though."
"We... may have caused a bit of commotion," Milla remarked, glancing back toward the door. "I think we should take our leave."
"Already?" Frowning, Raz snatched up his Psycho-Portal, hurried over to Morter, and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, I gotta go. Sorry I couldn't stay longer. But you're gonna stand up to Jakob from now on, right?"
Morter raised himself up onto his knees, scrubbing at his face again. "Y-yes!" he sobbed. "I will!"
"Great! Glad to hear it." Giving him a positive thump on the back, Raz stood up straight and hurried over to Sasha. "Are we heading back through the vents?"
"...Yes."
"Okay, got it. See you later, Morter!" He paused. "Please don't rat us out to your bosses, okay?"
"I-I—I won't!"
"Thanks!" Grinning, Raz hopped up onto his levitation ball and bounced up into the vent. Sasha and Milla exchanged bewildered glances before following.
Once they were out of the building and heading back to where they'd arranged for Oleander to pick them up, Milla finally spoke up: "So... can you tell us what happened in there?"
With a wince, Raz ducked his head. "Yeah, so, I kinda got caught..." Then his head shot back up, and he held up his hands. "But it's okay! 'Cuz Morter took me into that storage room—he wanted to interrogate me, I think, but I saw he was all stressed out, and I asked him about what was wrong, and he talked about how he's this office worker and this one agent keeps bullying him and dumping all this work on him and making him watch his kid at work, and... I kinda... asked if he'd like me to take a look around in here." He tapped on his head. "He was actually kinda curious about how we do that kinda stuff, so he agreed, and... I... kinda helped him sort things out from there." Raz paused, then screwed up his face. "His mental world was a daycare."
Sasha laughed, quite a bit louder than he'd intended, and Milla and Raz stared at him. "That's... quite remarkable, Razputin."
"You think so?" Raz smiled, only for his face to fall as he glanced aside. "I was... kinda worried that I wasn't doing as well on this mission, especially since I missed so much of the briefing."
Milla stooped down closer to him to give him a grin. "You did amazing, darling!"
"Awesome! Man, for a bit there I was worried we weren't gonna pull that mission off."
"Well, about that..." Frowning, Sasha pulled the paperwork he'd found out of his jacket. "I did find the new employee paperwork, but we weren't able to secure the blueprints for their newest device."
"...Oh, yeah! Almost forgot. I did get taken to device storage, so at one point while Morter's back was turned..." Glancing over his shoulder, Raz TK'd a rolled-up sheet of paper out of his backpack.
Sasha and Milla exchanged glances, both of them giving a relieved smile as they looked back down at Raz.
"You really are something, Agent Aquato."
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starchild--27 · 5 days
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Make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! Then, tag as many people as you have WIPs
I was tagged by my dearest @diamozi ✨️
writing:
One Song (my oldes wip, it's basically a story with 26 different povs, it's all people gathered at a bar with live music and each chapter is one pov from the same 4 minutes when a specific song is played, so it's just different people feeling different things about the same song. i haven't worked on that for like 6 years but i still love the concept and i want to return to it someday!)
music x art (chanbaek college au, where chanyeol is a music major and baekhyun is an art major and they become roommates and shenanigans ensue-)
romhyun and yeoliet (a chanbaek romeo + juliet au (without the dying lol bc i don't do main character death) @byuns-coco and i obsessed over in 2021 i think. it's based on the 1994 movie and exo's kokobop mv xD)
the lonely stargazer (which is about a dude (gn) who goes to the beach with their telescope to stargaze - bc they have heard you can hear the mermaids sing to the lonely people there - and they do feel very lonely. and they do hear the mermaids and they are singing about myths and stories about the constellations they see in the stars which are different from the constellatios human beings see bc they are a whole different species with a different culture and yeah. dude is male in my head bc i started it with chanyeol in mind, but that's not set in stone. i can imagine making it a story where the main characters gender is not revealed at all - if i ever write it xD)
ancient mansion (wlw love story between a writer moving into an huge-ass old mansion she inherited from her aunt and a interior designer who has been illegally working on the mansion and keeping it alive basically. they fall in love while renovating)
house of poets (my biggest wip, the concept is too long to to break it down here so feel free to ask me about them. all i'm going to say is ... super-tired all-knowing seer x antisocial jock werewolf. i love them. and i am sorry that i put them in these situations-) - technically it's connected to ancient mansion and 'house of poets' is the title of both stories. but... that's very messy to explain. but i wrote a song about them.
music:
moth song (i wrote that when a moth killed itself by flying straight into my pasta sauce that was literally still cooking on the stove-)
moth song pt 2 (i don't know what inspired that, one line i used there has been with me since 2021 i think, it was supposed to be a part of moth song but it became it's own thing and it's my favourite among my wips)
i am none of the things that you think i am (this one came to be after my grandpa came visit and things were said that made me upset)
rnb pop queen (this one i started when the new Mean Girls movie came out and Renee Rapp was everywhere and i had a crush on her)
theory logic consistency (this one started when i was frustrated with academia but academic is basically all i ever was good at so that was a crisis)
I tag... everyone who wants to share about their creative work? i am not sure at all anymore who of my moots have wips like that. i'll suspect @dontbotheraziraphale and @monwillica might have things to share? but no pressure at all ^-^
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necroneos · 10 days
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How to use shaders on his model to fix shading issues (2)
DISCLAIMER: I am in no way, shape or form obligated to do this. However, I write this so that anybody who wants to use Maruki’s model has the knowledge to do so. I know that a lot of people with custom models of their OCs primarily use MMD and instead of keeping the wall of ‘experience’ up between MMD users and those familiar enough with Blender, I decided to write this of my own volition so everybody can enjoy him.
Please, please, please read part 1 before you jump in because I will not be providing screenshots for some of the steps I already covered in part 1.
We meet again...
Maruki's glasses were just the beginning. Now is the main meat.
Let's start with Maruki's coat! geo_chack_006, geo_coat_006, geo_coat_006_0 are all parts of his coat. I'll be doing geo_coat_006 for this example. Like the glasses in part 1, we want to add a new, blank spot. However, this time in the asset library we want to drag and drop the C_Default orb to the new slot.
And, again, like his glasses we're going to copy-paste the the contents of the shader slot to the first slot. And after copy-pasting we'll delete C_Default just like the lenses.
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First thing you'll notice is that his coat is suddenly blue. Why? Because the material slot we copy-pasted doesn't have any of Maruki's textures. In their place are dummy placeholder images.
Go down to the toolbar where the asset library is at and click on this
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This is where we edit that material we copy pasted.
Before we copy-pasted C_Default, his jacket looked something like this
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Overwhelming, yes?
This is what it looks like with C_Default copy-pasted
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Looks slightly different, yeah? A box was added called 'P5 Shader'. That box is what helps with the mimicking of the cell shade style in P5.
Now all these boxes must be confusing and you're probably unsure of what to do with them, right?
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I got your back
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Let's zoom in on these boxes and I'll explain.
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These 3 boxes are all you need to focus on. Right now they're all set to a default dummy texture.
Using 2d art as a comparison, the three boxes are basically this:
Diffusion: Your main color
Specular: Your highlights
Shadows: You shadows
Typically in the textures the model will have images that are named clearly enough so you can easily understand what image goes to what. They usually shorten them though.
If it has 'c' it's the diffusion texture
If it has 'sp' it's the specular texture
If it has 'shadow' it's the shadow texture
(EDIT: my acquaintance tipped me off to something. if you see something with 'sh_' in the title, that's still a shadow. HOWEVER, these are textures called Shadow Maps and are specific to the character model. Otherwise other models like rooms and stuff simply use the word 'shadow' in the file name.)
click on the little X by the file name (dum_b.dds) so it now looks like this
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Now click open and navigate to where his model textures (a folder named 'tex' or 'tex png' depending on your preference) are. For his diffusion texture we're using this
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For his specular, we use this
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And finally, for the shadows, we use this
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Before:
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After:
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This applies to the rest of his clothes as well, as all the color, highlights, and shadows for his entire outfit are in the three texture images.
Now to cover skin. For his face (all of his head excluding hair ofc), you want to copy-past C_SkinFace. But uh-oh, you see this!
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Ignore it. I've noticed that Persona 5 models have a diffusion texture, a specular texture, and a shadow texture. I often don't see textures beyond that unless they serve a specific purpose (ex Maruki has a special texture for his battle metaverse outfit that's supposed to make the metal on his outfit reflect)
When C_SkinFace is applied:
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There will be times where something is made of multiple parts, like Maruki's head:
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In the end, they're all part of his head, so it's fine to use the same three textures I used on his face. You'll often be reusing textures in cases like this. Note: you'll see geo_siwa and geo_tan but don't worry about them. Just use C_SkinFace. From what I can tell, those two are some of the shadows on his face
As for the skin on the body (C_SkinBody)...well, it's really simple. It works like C_Default and C_SkinFace in how you apply it. The only difference (That I've noticed) is that the specular texture option is missing. But that isn't surprising, considering that most of the body's skin is covered.
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After applying everything you should go from this:
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to this:
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Much more vibrant!! 😊
For the last part, I will teach you all how to work with Maruki's metaverse battle outfit
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A lovely sight
Timari January: Day 20 (This is a date, isn’t it?) by @maribat-calendar-events
Summary: Breaking and entering at the same time is definitely a date.
Back to Timari January 2023 Masterlist
Marinette laced her hands behind her back, following after Red Robin like she was a puppy that was eyeing up the treat in his hand.
“Don’t you have better things to do?” He sighed, glancing around a corner before nodding – mostly to himself – and continuing forward.
“Nah, I’ve got everything I came for,” she said, swinging her bag for emphasis.
“Then why aren’t you leaving?”
She grinned. “I'm not stupid, Red, I know that anything you’re after would be worth quite a lot.”
“Won’t be worth much if you don’t know how to use it.”
“I’m not a bat,” she reminded him. “I’m perfectly willing to get help. I’ll hire someone if I have to.”
“Yeah? Then I guess I’m going to start applying for a specific job position hundreds of times.”
“Aw, you want to spend time with me that bad?”
He rolled his eyes (they were gray) and went back to ignoring her, trying door after door in search of… well, something. Marinette wasn’t really sure. She knew that there was a goldmine of information on site – the people running the place were decently important members of the Court of Owls, and most rich people were absolutely arrogant enough to keep classified documents without proper defenses. She didn’t know the nature of the information, but she knew she could use it as leverage or sell it for personal gain, so she would like to get her hands on it.
“Well, it looks like we’re out of the bed and guest rooms…” she said, quietly relieved. She had already walked in on people ‘making the most of the night’ enough to last a lifetime. In fact, walking in on people zero times would have been enough to satisfy her for life. She was not having a good time. “I’m guessing we’re looking for a study? Or an office?”
“Why do you ask?” He sighed, glancing up from the room he had opened up. It looked to be a greenhouse of sorts. Rich people.
“Because I want to help, obviously,” she said, smiling sweetly.
“You don’t even know what to look for,” he reminded her carefully. “You need me to find anything of use.”
“I’m just going to steal the CPU and every file I get my hands on.”
A simple method, maybe, but hey, it works.
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Don’t do that.”
“You could always tell me what we’re looking for,” she said.
“I am looking for stuff that can put them behind bars.”
She hummed a little, nodding to herself. Yeah, that could definitely be used to extort them. Especially since there was no way that a family as rich as this would actually go to jail. Sorry, Red Robin, she should probably tell you of her doubts, but she’s a realist and a capitalist.
They got approximately three doors down before Marinette’s ears picked something up. She blinked and glanced back at the end of the hallway, where she could hear the steel toe boots of the guards clanking as they headed their way. They were moving fast – not quite running, but certainly moving with urgency. Which meant they were suspicious.
She glanced back at the door she had just unlocked. It was a study, almost definitely the one that they were looking for based on the sheer amount of filing cabinets there, but she couldn’t see any hiding places. Besides, the place was supposed to be locked. If they so much as tried the knob, they would realize where they were hiding.
But if they were suspicious already then it would be difficult for them to get into the room later. If the guards didn’t see Red Robin and Marinette there, and saw nothing out of place, then they would expect for them to head there later.
She tipped her head from side to side, considering.
She rushed in and threw open some cabinets, tossing aside manila folders and individual papers alike.
“The hell are you doing?” Red Robin hissed. “They’re going to check here first, we need to go.”
She didn’t bother answering. She glanced around, making sure the place looked sufficiently ruined.
He held a hand out for her, jerking his head in a way that screamed ‘hurry up’ without actually screaming because they didn’t want to get caught –.
She nodded to herself before taking the hand and allowing him to drag her to the door.
They poked their heads out the moment the guards stepped into the hall.
There was a beat as the two pairs locked eyes, frozen in a mix of shock and horror.
And then Red Robin yanked on her arm and they were stumble-running for the nearest place to hide.
They slipped into the greenhouse, and Marinette threw the door closed behind herself, locking it.
Marinette breathed a tiny sigh as she stepped back. It wouldn’t hold them for long, but it would hold them.
“We know you’re in there!” The person yelled, and there was a terrible clanging sound as they beat against the doorknob.
“Get fucked!”
“Open up or we’ll make you!”
“Yeah? Do it!”
The knob broke off, and with it the lock. The door started to open.
Okay, well, yeah, that one was on her.
“Occupied!” Marinette yelled through the new crack, pushing the door closed again and throwing all of her weight into holding it. At least the hinges were on their side. It was much easier to hold the door closed that way.
Red Robin wrung his hands, looking around. There was plenty of vegetation to hide in, but would that really matter? They knew they were there.
And then his eyes lit up with something that might have been realization.
“Hold the door!”
“I’m sorry, the fuck did you think I was doing before?! Leaning against it for fun?!”
He started moving aside plants frantically, shoving a few in front of the door as if a tiny pot of aster was really going to help her hold back the people ramming into the door as hard as they could.
An alarm started to blare.
“Well, I guess this is a lovely place to die,” she muttered.
“We’re not dying here. I am not dying with you.”
But it didn’t work like that, they both knew.
Her eyes slid from place to place, drinking in the sights. They would be the last ones she’d ever see, after all. No one comes back from screwing over rich people.
So, she should enjoy it while she can.
Flowers of all colors. Blues, purples, yellows, whites, and greens. She recognized a few as aconite plants, though she couldn’t move close enough to see what type.
There was a stone bench crowded underneath a gorgeous cherry tree in the center of the room. Maybe the tree would have been a problem, as it made it difficult for the sun to get through, but in a place like Gotham it didn’t matter.
Sun lamps shone down on them, and it was the closest she had ever been to actually feeling sunlight in a long while. It was nice.
A couple of butterflies fluttered around, disturbed by the banging on the door. One landed on her shoulder, and she smiled at it.
Through the glass wall on the opposite side of the room, she could see bright smears of neon lights.
“What a waste,” she breathed. “That such a lovely, romantic sight should be wasted on us.”
Red Robin pulled back to look at her, his skin flushed from all of the rushing he had been doing. “Well, who says we can’t be romantic? This is a date, isn’t it?”
She giggled. It sounded a little manic, even to her own ears. “Oh? Take all the girls to do B&E on your first dates, then, Red?”
“I mean, why not? What better way is there to tell if you’re compatible than to try and work your way out of a life-or-death situation together?”
She laughed, and this one was far less strained. “Oh, and how are we doing?”
She had expected him to banter back, to say something about how they weren’t meant to be, but he drew back from his spot and revealed a vent he had unscrewed.
“You tell me.”
Marinette’s eyes widened.
And then she glanced back at the door, the butterfly fluttering off in protest of the sudden motion. But she didn’t care.
“Move the bench over here.”
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girderednerve · 5 months
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apologies dear friends i continue to be: a grouchy old man, obsessed with libraries
my new job is fine objectively like there is nothing wrong with it but my boss is very "do storytime, do more storytime, we must schedule storytime," and does not really listen to anything i say, such as 'i would like to do less early literacy programming so that i have some time to do programs for elementary & early middle schoolers,' or 'please schedule me on the youth desk instead of giving me nothing but unstructured office time, leaving me isolated & uninvolved in the day-to-day operations of the library, with which i need to rapidly develop familiarity,' or 'our desk schedule actually should not be rigidly set a month in advance, because we need to be flexible & can work out desk coverage on a department level,' or 'you actually do need to have a clear & specific plan for emergencies, including severe patron issues, & this plan should be communicated to all staff instead of vaguely stashed four folders deep in the shared drive'. (actually when i repeatedly pressed for clarity on who is in charge at any given time she posted an updated chain-of-command document which listed, for some reason, me? as third in line in case of emergency? which is just bugfuck)
it feels very frustrating & i know that many of these problems will resolve themselves as i begin to actually do programs—i haven't been able to because all programming at this library must have at least 2 weeks' advance notice, and i came onboard right after thanksgiving/needed time to get my bearings at least a little—so we can get some cute kid pictures to placate the board & build more of a sense of what is needed. but i still don't really know how to pull reports so i can't weed, i only just got ordering credentials this week & have had to find $2k of books to add to a library collection with which i am largely unfamiliar & for which i have absolutely zero circulation numbers, & nobody has actually given me an up-to-date budget (i am meant to guess, i suppose?). it feels kind of like a slow ongoing disaster; i know this feeling is partially because i have 2 hours' round-trip commute to worry & stew & so on, but i also am just like. girl you are a bad manager. you have persistent staff issues because you are not good at managing people. every meeting you are in is worse because you are in it. you cannot handle interpersonal tensions by having your assistant make friendly 'reminders' to all staff which are obviously about a single person, that never works. i have really strong feelings about management for a person who does not want to be in management! should probably try to walk that one off!
i cornered the adult services/sysadmin librarian today to talk to him about some stub ideas i have for kid programs about 'learning to code,' because we have (apparently) gotten lots of requests for this kind of thing, & basically everything on offer is just buzzwordy bullshit like 'make a bracelet that spells your kid's name in binary using different color beads!' or 'buy this expensive piece of edtech which will be unsupported in six months & anyway only introduces kids to our very closed environment!' or 'just let them spend some time on the computer, so their elastic little brains can pick up digital literacy skills by exposure :)'. so i had some ideas which seemed less like, um, nonsense, but i don't actually know how to code (am stupid) so i wanted to run them past him to get a sense of whether there was any real content there. i want to build a little model transistor & talk about why computers use binary. i want to use a makey makey to have the kids construct a sort of human circuit by holding hands, so we can model a logic gate. i want to write an if-then chart together & roll dice to determine which dance moves we do (cf. a ucla comp sci prof's exercises with her four-year-old). i want to use a makey makey to make a simple morse code transmitter so we can talk about encryption & transmission. i want to make an escape room so we can practice some very basic math & simple decryption (& also persistence!). i want to have tweens play scaled-down capture the flag to think about security. my boss just wants me to do three storytimes a week into infinity
anyway i am still marinating on my computer skills for kids concepts (it's mostly buzzwordy bullshit! even the stuff i want to do is kind of bullshit, lol) & plotting my wind tunnel/paper airplane prototyping program & figuring out when i can schedule my middle grade graphic novel book club. i am trying to figure out how this job might be doable. maybe someday i will want to go to work. america autem delenda est
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Idea: Y/N(preferably female) as a new teacher at VILE and immediately students and staff alike are talking about her. Like, she's just so beautiful! Some people are even freaked out because she just looks so unreal. Let's just say that Y/N's used to people commenting on her appearance because thats all people care to talk about when she also really smart and kind. What would it look like if Maelstrom had feelings for her?
Enchantress
Professor Maelstrom x Fem Reader
[Author’s Note: Is it bad this got me out of my writer’s block haha?
Also book idea: Maelstrom escapes prison and lives his evil life alone until he adopts a child in need. His morals get a bit better but once a villain always a villain.]
     Finally. Alone. Gunnar wasn’t the most sociable with people and his patience ran thin with all the failed missions lately. Yet now, it was the least of his worries. He stared at the Jellyfish swimming calmly in their wall-sized tank but that couldn’t ease his rushing mind like usual. 
He was no fool, he studied human psychology and habits religiously. Gunnar even used to be a therapist. He let out a sigh of frustration as his upper half leaned on his table. “Out of all the people it had to be me?” He grumbled to himself, “Out of all the people why am I in love?” It was embarrassing to think out loud. That an evil genius like himself was being played by love like a puppet. 
He stood up and went to his shelf, crouching down to the filing cabinet below and grabbing a specific manilla folder. 
Gunnar knew it probably wouldn’t be good for his mind to go through it once again but he had to know why he liked you so much. 
The moment he opened it he was greeted to your picture. You were a few years younger than him yet you rivaled Aphrodite with your beauty. Maybe it was no coincidence you were his first love, with your looks you could very well be a vampire or maybe even a succubus. With the way you could charm a whole island he really wouldn’t be surprised. 
Reading your story once more was always interesting. Y/n L/n, a wealthy woman created and governed many charity organizations. Things started to change as those you worked with seemed more eager to pocket the money and mistreat the people your organizations were supposed to benefit. Then you were fired from your own company and you snapped. You realized the hard way that this world was a cruel place, it was easier being the villain and caring for villains. 
Your story was tragic yet he was happy with the way things turned out. You were the only faculty member that didn’t annoy him in some way. Sweet and considerate yet very capable. 
A knock on his door brought him out of his thoughts with a grunt of annoyance. Usually Bellum and Brunt would simply barge into his room when they needed something so the one knocking on his door was either Cleo or you. 
“Enter.” He spoke clearly as he put your file away and readjusted his posture. 
Gunnar won the bittersweet lottery because it was you who knocked upon his door. “Good evening Gunnar, I hope this isn’t a bad time.” You entered the room with your hands folded, face showing a delicate expression of kindness. “It’s never a bad time my dear, how may I be of service?” 
You walked up to him, each step clicking against the hard floor. “The others want to hold a faculty and we need to take a vote about other recent matters.” You haven’t apart of VILE for very long, barely a month yet you always handled business quite well. 
“Thank you for alerting me, I’ll be there shortly.” You nodded with an understanding smile. “Take your time you seem a bit dazed.” With that you turned on your heel and left him in his room alone. 
What an enchantress you were.
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mylordshesacactus · 2 years
Note
thank you for the further bookmark issue. as someone who doesn't really use ao3 (fic isn't so much my thing, etc) but is y'know terminally online it's interesting to see the difference in which bookmarks function there as opposed to most every other site. I had no idea there were people leaving comments and notes on things that could just be seen??? like i hear bookmarks and immediately think 'ah yes the websites i would like to save for later in completely bizarrely named folders that i will most definitely forget about in about 20 seconds max' and not what appears to be a secondary (tertiary?) personal tagging system. and so out of genuine curiosity are there other things on the site that don't really work the same as one might assume? like i'd just default assume that a bookmark would be private and lost to the ages in three sub folders of whatever. again; haven't really used ao3 since um...probably shortly after launch and so haven't ever really like gone into explore more of how it functions beyond the basic tagging system. alternately tho, have bookmarks everywhere always been public in which case i am so sorry to anyone who has opened their how two guide on [random special interest at the time] only to find that somehow it's been associated to a sorting solution that makes sense to no one (especially me.) sorry, hi, not trying to be rude or continue drama just a little lost on the sidelines here.
You're fine!
The thing about AO3 bookmarks that you're (totally understandably, since you don't use the site!) not quite grasping is that, again, it's blatantly clear simply from using the site that they're public. There's a button on every single fic that leads to the bookmarks, and a hyperlink under every single fic summary that does the same thing. The bookmark is a site feature that links back to the original fic, and you can clearly see bookmarks on other users' profiles.
I totally don't blame someone for briefly, initially, assuming bookmarks might be private! My condescending bitchiness is specifically aimed at people who make heavy use of the feature for YEARS and STILL have no concept of how it works, and get angry when corrected--at a certain point, it becomes willful ignorance. You gotta LOOK at the site you're using, and if you refuse to do so, the people around you have every right to get sick of your shit, you know?
So, bookmarks are just really not an example of unintuitive design. Honestly, most of AO3 is extremely clear in how it functions. On any site, it's worth taking five minutes after joining to open different menu options and see what all is available, and AO3's menus are really thorough and very easy to use.
Furthermore, a lot of the things people complain about as if they're...well, for example, the definition of Mature vs Explicit fic, or how archive warnings work. I've seen a lot of people act like it's mysterious or impossible to learn or like it's purely Terminally Online Acquired Fandom Knowledge, and get frustrated by being expected to "just know" how ratings or relationship tags work. And I'm FULLY sympathetic to that! There's nothing more frustrating or upsetting than everyone around you acting like you're supposed to "just know" how something works, "just know" an entire subculture!
Here's the thing though.
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AO3 has tooltips built in to explain those things.
They're not esoteric nebulous Fandom Knowledge TM that you have to learn by meditating on a mountainside! And they're not totally meaningless terms that people being sticklers about are just gatekeeping over. On AO3, they have specific meanings and usages, and the explanations DON'T require you to go poking around the FAQ or Q&A sections of the site! They're easily accessible right from the relevant pages.
(I realize that I am, in general, kind of a sarcastic bitch, so I want to be very clear that my tone in this specific post is NOT sarcastic and I am NOT trying to come across as pissy or condescending--you asked a legit question in good faith and I'm happy to talk about it.)
I don't know that this is really the answer you were looking for, but I think it's the most productive answer I could give! The site is very self-explanatory for anyone who cares to use it.
It's a little like hiking. It doesn't matter how well-marked the trailheads are if someone refuses to pay attention to their surroundings.
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prophecydungeon · 2 years
Text
not quite to the date (yet) but ten years ago i posted a fic that is somehow still sitting on the front page of results by kudos and by bookmarks for the most popular ship in the most popular fandom on AO3 and i still don't know how that happened.
like... really genuinely truly i don't know what kind of WILD perfect-storm-level shit was going on to make this happen. the original post got eleven whole notes here on tungle (yeah i checked lmao). i am not, actually, a very Doing Numbers blogger or writer, nor had i ever been, nor will i ever be. as far as i know, there wasn't any wildass six degrees of separation thing that happened where someone very Doing Numbers made it Do Numbers. i didn't "advertise" it or anything (ppl who make fic graphics and have a posting/rbing/rting schedule.. i could never lmao), i didn't post it on every site known to man, i didn't tag it to hell, i didn't really do anything. it just fucking happened. and it's still happening!!! and i am just so fucking baffled. how did this happen. why are there people making tiktoks about this fic in the year of our lord 2022. how??????
i have a lot of very complicated feelings about this fic, with a lot of them boiling down to just, like, brain chemicals being very stupid, and i know that logically it's just brain chemicals gone bad! but it's still hard to shake ten (10!) years of feeling like my growth in writing is being constantly undercut by this thing that's created its own gravity well to keep sucking in kudos and comments when just about everything i've written since has been Better™ (which again, logically, i know is untrue -- i write for fandoms now that are relatively VERY small lol so of course nothing is ever going to Do Numbers again like this)
this fic was something i wrote after a very difficult-to-process series of events, so it was complete and utter wish fulfillment and it felt so good to write. the flip side of this, which in retrospect really soured the fic for me, is that i tried my damndest to live out the life i wrote in this fic. i went to grad school for linguistics two years later and TA'd, Just Like The Fic. it was supposed to be great! and those turned out to be the two most miserable years of my life. maybe not specifically because i was trying to live a daydream, but that disparity didn't help (though my friends certainly did). so in a way, aeiw is this image of a failed dream -- i'm not in linguistics as a field, not even remotely, and i likely never will be; i don't want to ever go back to academia, even though i will likely need to get another masters (derogatory) in my current field at some point.
BUT. i promised that this is not a negative post so i will pivot here to say very genuinely that i am so, so grateful to all the friendships and good times this fic has brought me. thank you to all the people i met because of this fic or while writing it. thank you to everyone who's gotten to know me for totally different reasons/fandoms/etc and then been like WAIT A SECOND. (it's so funny, every time.) thank you to everyone who's ever left kudos and said a kind word. (i still get kudos emails nearly every day just for this fic.)
and thank you to the incredibly beautiful personal anecdotes people have left on this fic, holy shit. i have a folder in my email for those specifically. here are some excerpts from comments that made me tear up:
Hey, so...you probably don't still read comments on this fic because it's so old and so wildly popular*, but I hope you see this. [...] I just started my first year of University as a Linguistics major, and I know for a fact that I wouldn't have figured out what I wanted to study had I never read this fic. I've always had trouble with school, and struggled to find subjects that weren't wildly difficult or insanely boring-until Linguistics. Now, I'm excited to learn and pursue my degree-maybe even a master's eventually. I just wanted to say thank you for this sweet story that stuck with me for all of these years, and helped me find what I want to do.
*i do. i read every single comment. every single one.
[...] Reading this, I don't understand how anyone could say that you, the writer, did this alone and will only ever be alone for this story.** I mean, we're separated by computer screens, but I feel that I was transported into your story in a way that transcends what is expected of the written word. Maybe this is my biased opinion as someone who has grown up in a secondary orality culture, but I just had to let you know that this story was more than the written word is often perceived to be. If that makes sense. I felt like I was there, getting the story and so caught up that I couldn't stop reading. And you might not be the narrator, but you're essentially god and you breathed life into these characters and I'm so in awe of you. You make it seem so easy! What's worse is I know it's not, so here I am, seeing something unfold with what looks like practiced ease when I know just how much work you've put into writing to get you to this point. I'm so proud of you! And it feels silly to say but I am, and I wanted you to know. [...]
**this is one of the most incredible things anyone has ever said to me.
[...] I first read this a long time ago (at least 6 years) when I was really Going Through It and this fic - specifically Dean - really resonated with me.*** It gave me an inkling (pun intended) of hope. And it was the first positive representation of tattoos that I'd seen. I started planning tattoos I wanted soon after reading this, using them the way Dean does in this to identify the important and best things in my life and figure out how to represent them and always have them with me. I just got my third done and I love all of them. So thank you for the impact that you've had on my life, and for writing such a wonderful story.
***i was really Going Through It as well. i'm doing great now and i hope you are too.
thank you to past me for writing this fic and finishing something "long" (lol..... lmao). thank you to past me for writing unabashed wish fulfillment, something i would lose the capability to do for a long time (dw, i got it back). thank you to this fic for irrevocably fucking up my AO3 statistics.
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so anyways, ten years on i'm doing great. new career. new gender. new fursona. i live in a super cool area. i got like seven anime figures of this one horrendous guy. my sick tattoos have gotten even sicker. here's a portrait of the author for good measure:
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and here are some fun facts about the fic that idr if i've ever shared before:
the scene at the very end where cas goes to get tattooed by dean? my beta wrote that for me. yes, the whole scene. thank you.
i don't remember who it was that carried a bike up some stairs but i always hefted my bike up onto my shoulder when walking it up my outside stairs so i pictured whoever that was doing it too (and i still have that bike! i refurb'd it last year!)
i think i own every vinyl i mentioned... i think
i definitely own led zeppelin's entire discography on vinyl
i finally bought a pair of rough-faced amethyst plugs for myself, something like two years ago? took me a while to get there
that sex scene was in there because i felt like i "had to" include one lmaoooo i had no idea what i was doing and i've written way better p*rn since then
when i turned 24 i did actually listen to 4 + 20 by csny first thing in the morning
soooo much of the tattoo and piercing stuff was so fucking pretentious of me.... but really, be thorough when looking for piercers and tattoo artists, stay safe, there are a lot of great resources out there
i actually pretty legitimately don't like showing my tattoos irl just because people can be really annoying/weird but i also just enjoy wearing long pants and long sleeves lol
...also yeah i do dress Like That. unironically.
some things i have written since then that i am very proud of:
P vs NP, RvB
the more i run (the farther away it seems), destiny
quema, bleach
in the details (not the devil), haikyuu!!
apsidial precession, destiny
and so in conclusion........ thank you. but i'm still baffled.
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ellesliterarycorner · 2 years
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Getting Your Writing Organized
I absolutely hate having documents labeled “Untitled document” in my Google Docs. It makes me so sad when I scroll through Docs, and I see at least five untitled documents just sitting there. How am I supposed to know what’s in there? Do I open up every single Untitled Document to find out what inside them? The world may never know. And it’s the worst feeling in the world when I’m looking for a specific document that has the idea I came up with at 3AM to solve all of my plot holes, but I vaguely remember not giving it a name, and now I have to sort through all of the Untitled documents to find the one I’m looking for. It may be a little tedious to sort through your documents and organize them, but it’ll probably save you a whole lot of time and frustration in the long run.
Google Docs Superiority 
Sorry to all of you Word users, but I do believe in Google Docs superiority. I just love not having to worry about saving my docs because I would cry if I forgot to save something, and then I lost everything that I had written. I’m not saying that you should absolutely use Google Docs, and a lot of these tips are transferrable to other platforms, but they will be Google Doc heavy. Honestly, it doesn’t really matter wether you chose to use Google Docs, Word, Scrivener, or Pages, but once you choose a platform that works best for you, your writing system, and your daily routine, I would stick to it just so all of your documents are on the same platform. One of the reasons I love Google Docs is because I can edit things I’ve written on my computer on my phone and vice-versa, so I never feel like I’m disconnected from my writing. Some people don’t like to write on their phones, so it doesn’t matter to them if they can write on their phones. Others don’t even like to write on electronic devices at all, so having a cache of notebooks, journals, and binders is the way to go. 
My Room Isn’t Even This Organized
No, literally, I can hardly keep my room clean, but my Google Docs folders are so immaculate. When you’ve decided on your platform of choice, I would start organizing everything into broader categories. I organize my big folders by WIP, poetry, personal, and crackhead/3 A.M randomness. Here is a picture for us visual learners: 
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Having these larger folders is a great way just to separate all of your documents, so you have at the very least a vague idea of what you’re getting into when you open each of these folders. Today we’re going to be looking into the folder for my main WIP: The Trials of Flesh and Flames or TToFF. 
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There’s a picture of the inside of my folder. I have 12 sub-folders with different categories. One for each book in the planned trilogy and a bunch for a bunch of other things. This helps me stay organized within my WIP. If I want to work on character development, I know I have a specific character development folder. If I’m in a worldbuilding mood, I go straight to the worldbuilding and lore folder. It also helps a little bit with productivity though no amount of perfectly organized folders will help with my insane procrastination problem. 
The Death of Untitled Documents
As I said earlier, I absolutely hate having Untitled Documents. Some people have whole systems that they’ve developed with decimals and Roman numerals and all sorts of things when it comes to naming all of their documents. Every time I try to do that to level up my writing organization, I end up never able to actually remember whatever system was in place. Instead, I find it a lot easier to use super straight-forward and blunt names. I also like the blunt names because it helps me when I’m searching for any of my documents later on. I may not remember a specific system name that I had, but if a scene is about two characters arguing and I title it Character A and Character B Argue (Draft 1), I’ll immediately see it when I’m looking through my folders, so I won’t waste time looking for it. 
Does This Spark Joy?
The answer is no. Half of the time, my writing does not spark joy and I am compelled to delete everything I have ever written without remorse. No matter how strong the compulsion is though, my limited self-control pulls through, I realize I am my biggest critic, and I stop myself. Even if you absolutely hate something that you’ve written, deleting it is never the solution. As you can see in one of the screenshots, I have a lovely little folder called Deleted Chunks. In that folder are, you guessed it, Deleted Chunks! A lot of times I actually have been grateful that I didn’t delete some of my little chunks. An old scene can fit perfectly into a new place, can help get the creative juices flowing for a new scene, or can be reworked into something completely new. Even if you don’t end up using the scene, sometimes going back and reading your old deleted scenes, can help you realize how much you’ve grown as a writer!
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