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#i have a whole ass fund i am saving with. for the thing! and the bahboo is so tempting but i cannot do both!
triple-s-bandau · 3 days
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I think i might've offhandedly mentioned Eggman's company before in one of my earlier posts but figured i'd go a little more into it.
Gonna be completely honest i still don't have a concrete name for his business yet ABSJDFH. I mean Eggman as a name is catchy enough to be used as a company name - it's like Mr Clean to me. for now i'll just refer to it as Eggman industries for simplicity's sake.
OKAY SO. Eggman's company to the public eye is nothing more than a simple multi million dollar cleaning and home appliance manufacturer. His machines are well crafted and like ridiculously sturdy, these fuckers do NOT break (FOR REASONS I WILL EXPLAIN LATER ABSJDF) and also don't rely on electricity or normal ass batteries to run, making them really popular due to how much money people are saving by using em (of course it does mean that they're like stupidly expensive too)
HOWEVER. that is not where Eggman specializes! he designs and builds artillery bots that only a select few organisations or people know of can buy (for their own nefarious reasons;;). Omega is one of these bots however he had a couple problems so he was kept as a cleaning robot (tragic, AND YES I AM 100% REUSING MY BOOM!OMEGA CONCEPT).
Eggman's main thing is that his appliances don't require electricity due to their built in batteries!!!...... the batteries are animals (who doesn't love a flicky in their washing machine <3). Obviously Eggman does not want people finding out about this so he makes his appliances virtually indestructible - you could throw that dish washer off a 20 story building and trust it will still work.
AS YOU CAN SEE HIS BUSINESS IS INCREDIBLY UNETHICAL. and also expensive as hell, he wants to find a different energy source (wink wonk chaos drives) since animals can only grant so much however that research requires funding, and a whole lot of it - and that's where Triple S come in. Eggman knows that boy bands make a shit load of money if they're successful and marketing is no issue for him so he went ahead and scouted for 3 normal ass guys he could bring in to form a band. Oh and he mainly wants a different source for the artillery bots!!
Again to like, every person ever, it's incredibly weird for Eggman to suddenly manage a boy band of all things when his whole company is around home appliances but ehhhh who cares the music bangs.
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stilesofnorth · 1 year
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REASONS TO LOVE THE GLORY PART 2
WE HAVE A perfect anti-heroine. She doesn't pull random crap from any direction and have a new motive every time she loses a loved one. (yeah, she doesn't wait for someone to die to get her shit together either)
She isn't trying to save the world, she is just trying to move on and yet she manages to save more people than what most leads can.
She doesn't half ass shit, she took 20 years to fully fund her plan, get an education and fucking get them all.
She is actually a good person, nobody on this drama as a character has to vouch for that or explicitly say how charming she is. SHE JUST godamn gives her biggest bully time to surrender and go to police herself so she wouldn't have to take revenge and her family wouldn't be suffering.
She is self aware, revenge isn't the best way to do it so she plans to off herself but the people around her know she don't deserve it. There is no scene in the drama where Dongeun's revenge is glorified to a point it seems its okay for antiheros to do fucked up shit with some cool instrumental playing in the bg(scene where MDE calls JJ to get the pervert straight in line, she accepts it is crappy since yesol and HDY had to sort of see that)
She gives people what they deserve, and she finds happiness(she shouldn't have to earn it but she does)
SHE isn't perfect but she does try to have sympathy for people who have been by her side and looks out for them.(reasonable, no love at first sight nonsense, all the people she helped have proved their worth around her.)
She isn't getting justice for the whole world just the ones who have been through the same shit as her and logically tries to make a coherent plan do it all.
DID I say she don't have any supernatural strengths like she breaks down, has ptsd and requires support from YJ's character.
She doesn't wear cool suits and ramps around everywhere to deliver retribution but she kinda plays people like guitar strings and have them kill eo(thanks to her years of stalking skills)
Chemistry between two characters in this drama isn't bait for you to watch this drama. The drama itself is the bait, SHK is fine as hell. As much as I love a romance, this one is just fine as it is.(LDH and SHK are a cute duo, not everything needs to be angsty. Some things are nice when two nice people are together and in love. I'll die on this hill.)
I am voicing my concern for people who don't find LDH and SHK's chemistry palpable. SHK and Jung Sungil look good but ldh and shk flow better. Given the fact, this show has a character who went through a lot, why would she ever choose the bully's ex over a ray of sunshine?
There is no miracle bird that saves the day so the writing gets all the credit lol.
SIDE NOTE: This might be Song Hye Kyo's best drama but also the the best drama out there. some of y'all should not forget this girl has been on the top for over 20 years for a reason. I'd love to see well written stories written around main characters such as this but there aren't many. Multilayered female characters who are not in romance dramas >>
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scatteredlight1 · 3 months
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Am I the villain...?
Instead of 'Am I the asshole' it's just silm characters except they're going 'Am I the villain...'.
Sons of Feanor version:
Maedhros: I might have stolen a couple of jewels from my uncle. For context, these jewels were made by my father and then stolen by others. However, when I picked up the jewels they burned me and I jumped into a chasm. I am now stuck in the halls of the dead, thinking about my past actions, and the leader around here, Mandos, is accusing me of being a villain. I have committed many crimes while I was getting these jewels back, including mass murder, theft, kidnapping, arson, starting a war against the bad guy who killed my father, and perhaps a few more. But I also saved a few people. This place keeps making me think: am I the real villain here? Am I the cause of all the problems? Am I at fault for allowing my brothers to roam unchecked?
Maglor: Am I the villain? Yes. I am the villain. I kidnapped innocent children after killing their parents brutally, burned down ships when my father asked, didn't protect my lands when my brother asked, and then I abandoned those kids I stole to wallow in self-pity. I'm contemplating whether or not I deserve to be called anything right now.
Celegorm: I just got killed by the son of this girl that I liked. My dog abandoned me for her, and she stole my family's jewel and refused to return it. And now this stupid god guy is accusing me of being a villain for not respecting a person's wishes? Am I the villain when I was abandoned by everyone and accused of crimes I did not commit?
Caranthir: I was just minding my own business, scamming people and getting in the money needed to fund a whole ass war and then my brothers decided we had to kill a bunch of people and I had to participate. So I did. Now I'm dead and this guy tells me I can't get money because I was basically a horror story told to children. Would I be the villain if I killed him? (He's already dead btw.)
Curufin: Whatever anyone else is saying, I am not the villain. But apparently, it's cool to post 'Am I the villain stuff' or so my brother said. So. I might've killed a bunch of people and I might've made weapons that harmed way more people. Does that make me the villain? I think not. Those people were keeping me and my brothers from our birthright. We asked them politely multiple times, but it didn't work. Sadly, we had to resort to violence, although we were set on achieving it through peace. Additionally, those people tried to ban our language, eradicate our culture, and refused to allow our refugees to settle under their protection because they were sanctimonious, prejudiced, and stuck-up.
Amrod: Can I be the villain when I've been dead since the beginning?
Amras: My twin was killed by my father, and then my father died. I proceeded to do unspeakable things to get revenge on the guy that firstly made my father insane enough to kill my twin and then my father. Anyone else who was injured was just collateral and completely accidental. Besides, I spent most of my time listening to my older brothers and following their orders, but this random guy I bumped into called me a villain. Am I really the villain?
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blackbackedjackal · 9 months
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I love how there was 0 reading comprehension with that ask.
I spent nearly $7000 ($6300 for the ER and $500 for his GP) for a /diagnosis/ only to find out Lobo has cancer that can't be treated without putting him through uneciassiary stress. I won't be pursuing any further treatments other than things to make him more comfortable while he's going through this (fluid removal, special diet, and medication).
I had saved up around 5k in our collective emergency medical fund for me AND him. That's what that money was saved for (over the course of like 12-18 months working my irl job). I still have to pay the remaining balance.
I know a lot of people have grown attached to him through seeing him on my blog, and I wanted to provide an option in case anyone wanted to donate to him. All the money that has been sent has gone directly into the fund to pay off the rest of his bills or buying him some food and treats that he likes. It's helped so much and I really don't even know how to express how grateful I am, not only for the donations, but any advice to help with his care and the time and space some of you all have provided to allow me to vent and make sense of everything. Not to mention all the kind and compassionate messages. Nothing has gone unnoticed on my end, I'm just so overwhelmed that I haven't had the energy to respond to everyone. However I will absolutely remember your kindness in turn if any of you all end up in a similar situation (which I hope no one ever does cause this hurts so much).
Anyway, again, messages like that don't bother me as it comes with such a lack of empathy and perspective that I can't relate. I easily brush off things like that as "wow someone's gonna have a bad wakeup call in the future and regret being an ass about this". But still it's like, the brazenness of it all is what gets me. Like "why didn't you use your personal medical funds to help other people in need?" Like why don't you be a more productive person and donate to those causes your damn self than sending stupid shit on tumblr?
Because I DO donate my time, resources, and finances to others in need. I don't make a huge ass deal about it, especially online, because it's something I've always done out of habit. If you wanna do good, just fucking do it. Because I truly believe the more good you put out in the world the more good comes back your way, and this whole situation is very much proving that theory.
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goferwashere · 2 days
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wait srry if asks rnt open but im a chismoso so hopefully this is OK to ask ;; is the little character in ur banner and pfp ur sona ? they r so silly looking i love it sm but also why is it chowing down on a hotdog bun filled with butter . DONT ELABORATE IF THERES A PERSONAL BACKGROUND ATTACHED TO IT PLS but i srsly think it's so cutesie and ive been curious abt it 4 a hot min ✝️
SAW THE NOTIFICATION AND I ROSE FROM THE DEAD BUGGY U JUST OPENED THE GATES OF HELL /POS
ALSO ASKS ARE ALWAYS OPEN!! UNLESS THE BUTTON IS GONE FEEL FREE TO SEND ME ASKS ANYTIME I LOVE GETTING THEM :DD
ASHSHSSH THANK YOU !!! Yes this is my sona her name is RB 😋 she has lore and comes from her own world but I use her like a persona :3
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Here’s the OG image along with a couple others of her :D
Also her as a character can’t speak so she uses ASL to communicate (hence the banner she’s holding) so I don’t use ASL but I do use a website when I draw her speaking
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funny ass gif lawllll (she’s signing ‘I am not a crook’) (yes TV Girl reference) the frame rate is too fast but I can’t fix it now
ALSO ALL OF THIS ART IS OLDER. NOTHING NEW FOR THESE GUYS FOR A WHILE I NEED TO MAKE NEW ART FOR THEM 💔💔
auughhh and her lore if you wanna read below but I understand that OC lore isn’t everyone’s thing
OKAY SO she comes from a universe where her kind are robots made by a company to terraform planets for the ultra wealthy. So if you have the funds you can purchase a whole planet and whole armies of these little bots will shape it however you want.
BUT. While on the assembly line, before even recovering her directive, a portal opens up and throws her into this odd pocket dimension, which is just a half built city floating in a bright void. (Also when I say half finished I mean more like brutalist aesthetic with just concrete and no glass on the windows)
This place (named ‘Gearsky’ by locals because massive floating gears are the only thing that exist here outside of the city itself) is full of people from their own dimensions just trying to get by. She explores, and comes across a little bear being picked on in an alleyway. (The lil green bear [party bear] in the pics above)
She saves him and then it subconsciously becomes her prime directive to help Party Bear get home/care for him. So they set up base in one of the empty apartments and she just sorta takes care of him.
NOW. How do you get home you may be asking? Well it’s easy. You just need to beat someone in a deathmatch.
Enter the only form of entertainment on this island. The man who is the dictator of this place and subsequently the host of this game, aptly named Host, loves running this game. The rules are simple. 3 people enter, and two can leave alive. Only one needs to die, and the other two can get sent home. The only thing is, you have no idea who you’re going up against.
Now, RB, being a bot made to terraform, has some power behind her with her explosive abilities. But Party Bear has no defenses. So RB tries to strike a deal with Host.
She offers to kill both people in the ring with her for multiversal travel.
Host is intrigued by this offer, and accepts. After wiping the floor with her opponents, she’s granted access to all dimensions. She’s obviously excited and goes home to try and let Party Bear go home, but is heartbroken when she discovers that she’s the only one who can travel using the portals.
But this catches the attention of someone else.
Her future boss.
Another robot, by the codename TB-89.
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He took note of her deal, and approached her with a job offer.
Man’s long story short she works for him as an assassin!
There’s so much more I wanna say but I know I can’t ramble on forever lol if you read all this then thank you so much for sticking it out 🤭 I hope you enjoyed it I love gushing about my characters
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greypetrel · 3 months
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HI ARJA I’m so curious about your moby dick AU lol you always have the best AUs
HI ROWAN I'm glad you asked! :D It's gonna be a big ass rant, so it's under the cut. I'm very excited about this AU, it tackles some things I love and have first-hand experience of, so yeah, I'll be chatty about it ahahahah.
I've posted a chapter at random on AO3 and you can find some snippets in the whale au tag!
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So, it's "Zoologist Aisling who thinks whales are the best thing after sliced bread saves Cullen, who happens to have survived a shipwreck caused by a whale". Shenanigans happen.
It was an idea of @shivunin (thank you again) and I'm currently trying to give it a little outline not to go totally at random. I am thinking about characters background, it's a non-magical AU and so stuff needs to be adapted. The title of the WIP is old, I realised after that... You know, it's a Moby Dick INSPIRED thing. The first idea was having Aisling as Melville and Cullen as Ishmael teaming up to write Moby Dick. Cullen has the sailing parts, Aisling filling in with conspiracy theories about whalers and spite over naturalists. And both of them inserting a gay relationship because I'm still a big part of the Bi!Cullen agenda, and that book is terribly gay.
I did realise later on that there's a limit to the horrors I'm willing to put characters through and write, and cannibalism is really NOT one. I also moved it to another period and to the 1900s because I already did research for another original project and I'm more familiar with it.
The title of the file will change when I'll have a better one for this AU.
For now I do have a background for Aisling, what she's in Nantucket to do, and I'm so happy to say @melisusthewee jumped on the bandwagon aboard with Quinn and Horatio, but I'm letting her introduce you to them in this. I'll just say that Aisling refers to Quinn as "Mr Arch-Nemesis".
She's in Nantucket for a research over sperm whales behaviour, restore her family's name (dad was a scholar too, but alas, he was caught being a member of the Fenian society and giving money to the Irish revolutionaries... She's the Royal Society's favourite person, yes) and hopefully put a brake on whale hunting (the 1900s saw the peak of killed whales, you can bet miss "I'd adopt a dragon if Bull didn't constantly prevent me to try and befriend one" won't be ok with it). Dorian and Josephine -whom I couldn't fathom being there with her, seriously I can't picture Dorian on a ship if not in first class, unless he was beaten unconscious before boarding and dragged on. Josie finances ships, sure... but being on board of one and working? A whole different thing. So, they're Aisling friends, but they stayed in London to get her fundings.
Cullen needs to find reason to get to the sea again, he was a harpooner and worked on ships all his life... After being the sole survivor, he needs to find his centre back and get on with it. The crazy whale fangirl may or may not help him on this.
And there was only one bed, of course. (have I already said that Moby Dick is VERY gay?) (I had a blast reading it, thank you so much @salsedinepicta for making me curious about it! <3 Also if you want to throw your characters in this GO ON.)
I thiiiink I may change names and design and also do something fully original. I'm particularly enthusiastic about it because it allows me to tackle stuff I experienced in my life (I did some sailing! Very little and purely recreational, but still) and to re-use some research I already did for another original project which I love dearly, but it's definitely more than I can chew on my own. If I don't chicken out because the place is linked to some trauma, I maaaaay add a part in the seaside town I spent a lot of time growing up.
But again, let's see how it goes, researching on Italy isn't the easiest thing ever if you're not aiming at Rome or the Renaissance, and we're talking about a pretty regional side of Italy. I have good hopes because the people are very very very much into their own history and claiming it back, so I may find some good infos without spitting too much blood.
it's a work in progress, but there's gonna be more about this!
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preciouslandmermaid · 2 years
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nothing’s gonna hurt you baby (carmy x f!reader) - Part 7
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Note: I want to say, again, thank you to everyone supporting and showing love for this fic and these (points) dumb main characters. Stan Ted for clear skin.
Warnings/Tags: Angst, Comfort, Talking about death/Mikey’s death. (cw: mentions of suicide). 
Synopsis: Jimmy offers you a favor, but it feels more like you’re helping him out rather than the other way around. However, a wedding is incomplete without the wedding cake, and you cannot afford to say no.
Lake Michigan is haunted by more than a few ghosts for you and Carmy.
(Read on Ao3)  /// (Masterpost)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You walked into the kitchen from the back delivery door to see Ted dancing to a remix of a pop song. On the front of his navy t-shirt was ‘Cookie Rookie’ in white cursive with a little half-eaten cookie on the curve of the final ‘e.’
“Ted.” You stifled your laughter. “What are you doing?”
He didn’t miss a beat. “Making a TikTok for the bakery.”
You stared at him for several, quiet and stupefied seconds. “Jesus Christ,” You said emphatically before shaking your head in disbelief and walking away.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Two weeks ago, your incredible success at the Spring Festival garnered thousands and thousands of new followers on the Cookie Rookie’s social media. Even Chicago 6 News scheduled an interview for next week: a mere three days before your opening.
It wasn’t a surprise that Jimmy heard about your triumphs.
The surprise came in the form of him asking you to provide the wedding cake for his brother-in-law.
Jimmy said. “But I’m not paying you, alright? This is exposure.”
You cradled the phone into your shoulder while writing a check to pay those who built a custom neon-sign with your bakery’s name. “I can’t help but feel like we have plenty of exposure. Don’t you follow us on Instagram?”
“No, I don’t follow you Instagram!” Jimmy quipped, “I’m not sixteen years old.”
You clicked your tongue. “Fair.”
“It’s not even a big wedding. It’ll be an easy job.”
“Again, you’re asking for free labor.” You pressed. “I am paying my people even though we’re not open yet.”
“That sounds fucking counter-intuitive.”
You shrugged. “I’ve got the funds for it.”
Technically, the money within your grandfather’s account was meant to be used as a safety net in case anything went wrong after opening. However, you were confident that your opening weekend would payback those funds two-fold. You hired Leslie, Ted, and Dani and they deserved to get paid even if they were only coming in on their own time to practice their bakes.
“Fine.” He huffed. “I’ll pay you.”
You gave him your rate and wrote down the specifications for the cake itself onto your planner.
“When’s the wedding?” You asked before lifting your cup of coffee to your lips.
Jimmy answered, “Tomorrow.”
You spat coffee onto your open planner and coughed. Your eyes watered and you wiped your mouth with your fingers. Tomorrow?! Was he insane? You cleaned the warm coffee off your desk with a tissue. Unfortunately, it quickly soaked through the thin material, and you were left with coffee-stained fingers and damp paperwork. Many weddings were planned months in advance with multiple taste tests of the cake depending on the finicky nature of the wedding couple. You never heard of anyone getting a three-tiered wedding cake for an elopement.
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me, dude.”
“I’ll double your going rate.” He offered. “Look, I wasn’t going to say anything, but it’s a shotgun wedding, okay? The soon-to-be newlyweds aren’t picky. Just make a halfway decent wedding cake so it convinces her relatives they had this whole thing planned.”
Jimmy wanted you to make a wedding cake just to save his brother-in-law’s ass from getting into trouble with his girlfriend’s family. He would pay you double and grant your bakery additional attention. There was a chance this wedding was going to be messy as hell. You had no other choice but to answer—
“Alright, yeah. We’ll do it.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You made the icing for the cake and improved upon your own recipe. It was the same white frosting with a hint of sharp lemon that Carmy tried all those weeks ago. You bit down on your smile while spreading it across the cakes with a steady hand. Ted piped a gorgeous array of white roses along entirety of the bottom tier. Dani decorated the top layer with sugar pearls and arranged them, so the pearls spilled from the top layer and onto the middle. It was simple, elegant, and tasted delicious.
You folded your arms over your chest and admired your combined efforts.
Ted clapped a hand on your shoulder. “Not bad.”
“Nope.” You smiled. “Not bad at all.” You snapped a picture and sent it to Carmy. His response arrived while you were driving to the wedding.
‘Who’s getting married?’
‘Jimmy’s brother-in-law.’
You climbed out of the passenger seat when his reply buzzed inside your pocket.
‘Richie assumes he burned our invitations.’
You smiled and quickly typed back, ‘A travesty.’
You and your bakers transported the cake out of the car and to the display table underneath the large, white tent pavilion. Jimmy shook your hand, grateful and relieved, and palmed you wad of cash. You tucked it surreptitiously into your pocket.
“Stick around, kid. Have a glass of wine.” Jimmy made an annoyed face, “Lord knows I’m gonna need one.”
You bit the inside of your cheek and nodded. You didn’t particularly enjoy weddings. But, you would have a front seat to any of the drama if you stayed. You walked to the edge of the tent and looked out at the gray waters of Lake Michigan that stirred with a gentle breeze. Your throat prickled and you roughly swallowed it back.
You were small and following your grandfathers’ back. He turned to look at you, smiling, his large palm soft and solid in your little hand. The sunlight beamed across his profile and burned the rest of the memory into white, blinding, glorious light.
Dani said, “Jefe?”
You flinched and quickly wiped a single rogue tear with your fingertips before turning to her. “Yes?”
Her warm, brown eyes narrowed. “Are we staying?”
“Sure!” You sniffed, then nodded, “Take advantage of the open bar, yeah?”
Ted beamed behind Dani’s shoulder, “Say no more, Boss!”
Dani lingered by your side for a second longer before walking away and you were glad for it. Any gentle word or touch at this point would crush you. You wrapped your arms around your middle and hide your face toward the sparkling lake. Nothing changes. Your fingertips dug into your upper arms and the slight pressure grounded you. Crying about it changes nothing. Let’s not lose our cool during our first gig. You squeezed your arms a little harder and tucked away those sweet, summer memories before everything in your life shattered.
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You lost track of how many glasses of champagne you drank before they finally cut the cake. Dani wept, though you weren’t sure if it was because of The Wedding or The Wedding Cake. Ted had gotten no less than three women’s numbers and you were convinced that Leslie would go home with one of the bridesmaids. Your emotions teetered on a knife’s edge, and it was through remarkable self-control that you managed to not call Carmy for sex. You were a paragon of virtue. A saint. You had nerves of steel and a heart carved from ice.
Or so you told yourself while half-stumbling onto the empty, sandy beaches beside the wedding tent. The cool air bit your flushed skin. Can paragons and saints hallucinate? You wondered as you clutched the neck of an open champagne bottle.
“Carmy?” You said with soft uncertainty. The person standing on the beach had a Carmy-shape. The right height, you thought, and his jacket looked familiar. Your grip loosened on the champagne when he faced you. His eyes shadowed and hidden by a nondescript baseball cap. You felt strangely disappointed to not see them in their full tender and tired glory. He didn’t say anything, though you noticed his hands slide into the pockets of his coat.
You lifted your eyebrows. “Surprise?”
That got a reaction out of him. “W-what?”
“Last time we saw each other, you said I always show up and surprise you.” You explained with a vague gesture while holding the champagne. You brought the bottle to your lips and the bubbles fizzed up your nose—you sputtered and then laughed. Carmy pulled off his baseball cap and held the brim between his hands.
His words were so gently muttered that you almost didn’t hear them, “You do.” He looked past you and toward the fairy-lit tent filled with drunk Polish guests. “How’d it go?”
You beamed with pride burning hot inside your chest, “Fantastic.” An idea struck you like lightening.
“Wait! You can try it!” You grabbed Carmy’s hand and tugged him purposefully toward the tent. The sand wafted around your feet, catching on your pants, and into your socks. The fairy lights adorning the tent swirled like fireflies in your vision. Your heart sputtered, nervous and alive, at the solid and warm grip of Carmy’s fingers trapped within yours. The loud voice in your head that often screamed ‘what are you doing?’ was blessedly quiet.
His fingers twitched, but he didn’t pull away. “I don’t think Jimmy wants me crashing his brother-in-law’s wedding.”
You rolled your eyes, “Relax. I’ll hide you behind something and steal us a plate.”
“Foolproof.” He deadpanned and you grinned over your shoulder at him. You weren’t sure why Carmy was being pessimistic about your amazing plan. You released his hand near the side entrance of the pavilion beside a fake potted palm plant.
“I’ll be right back. I promise.” You said with severity and a furrowed brow. Carmy’s mouth thinned, but you didn’t wait to see if he smiled. You weaved through drunken wedding guests, passing white balloons and golden glitter, and stopped with a triumphant grin at the cake table. You set your champagne bottle down and replaced it with a plate carrying two pieces of your wedding cake. You shoved two clean forks into your back pocket and walked with urgency back to Carmy.
A small part of you feared you’d walk through the plastic flap and find empty air and sandy, receding footsteps. He had no reason to stick around and follow along with your silly, not-quite-sober idea. Your heart found a home inside your throat. It wouldn’t be the end of the world if he was gone. It would just be…a bummer.
Your breath exhaled in surprised, earnest relief when you stepped from the drunken noise and found him standing with his hands in his pockets. The myriad of twinkling lights reflected in his pupils and revealed a tiny, fleeting galaxy of undiscovered constellations. The flap closed behind you and the light returned to a muted, soft white.
You held the paper plate aloft with both hands, “Ta-da!”
Carmy smiled, fragile and quick, but your heart swelled with the sight of it.
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You asked Carmy to hold the plate while you took off your shoes. You walked into the sand, sneakers dangling from your fingertips, with your other hand curled around his bicep to steady yourself. Neither of you spoke as you walked aimlessly before sitting down together. Your shoulders bumped together because your bodies couldn’t resist colliding like meteors. What did it mean when you moved in sync with someone? What about when you could hold a conversation through a look? You sighed and the sound rattled and loosened something heavy stuck in your ribs.
Carmy accepted the fork from your pocket and stabbed a piece onto the tines. You pillowed your chin on your clasped hands. This was different from the first time. You were hungrier, you realized, for his feedback. You had eaten his food and seen him work. You knew you improved, but it mattered that Carmy knew that as well.
His eyebrows raised. Your heart thumped. He blinked a few times, nodding, then finally lifted his eyes to meet yours. The world stopped spinning. Your blood rushed in your ears. Carmy’s coat was rough and scratchy from where it met yours. You shifted and your knee touched the side of his thigh.
“It’s fire.” He took another bite, “It’s really, really good. Damn.”
Shock registered on your face first, then melted like candle wax into sweet, soft joy.
You knocked his fork out of the way with your own, “I got two pieces, you know.” You teased with a dark look.
Carmy shook his head, bemused, and pulled the plate out of your easy reach, “You said you wanted me to try it.”
You laughed with incredulity. “And you have!” You glared at him, “That doesn’t mean you get to eat it all.”
His expression softened. The false, playful anger in your gut dimmed. His eyes were warm with amusement, long eyelashes kissing his cheekbones, a smudge of frosting on the corner of his mouth.
He looked at you expectantly with an edge of challenge in his jaw and said, “Yeah?”
Your stomach fluttered. You were drunk on inexpensive champagne and buried memories of your grandfather and cool, fragrant air and Carmy. His eyes, his tattooed hands, his imperceptible smiles, and wan laugh and you were hopelessly mystified.
It was a miracle you could string a sentence together, “Yes, Carmy—now share before I knock it into the sand.” You heard Carmy exhale shortly through his nose—his almost laugh. The sound of it was more intoxicating than any glass of champagne.
“Please.” You added as an afterthought.
He lowered the plate back between you and replied, “Only because you asked nicely.”
You took a wonderfully large bite of cake and smiled. You were so goodman proud of yourself. You hoped your grandfather would be proud of you. Your heart squeezed and memories leaked from their boxes. They spilled over your fingers like black ink, filling the lines and grooves your palms, reminding you of their impossible permanence and fluidity.
You faced the dark, gray waters of Lake Michigan beneath a dusky-blue sky and the truth loosened from your soul with ease. “Generally, I’m not a fan of weddings. I think they’re bullshit, but this one was OK even if their location is shit.”
In your peripheral, you saw Carmy’s face turned toward yours, and heard the faint smile in his voice, “what do you have against Lake Michigan?”
A lump lodged itself in your throat and your voice cracked around it. “I - I used to come here with my grandad when I was small…”
Hot tears prickled your eyelids and you managed to blink them away. “Before mom and dad split and she moved us away.”
“And it’s stupid, right? I know it’s stupid. To even think about any of that when I should be networking with the wedding guests. But I – I can’t. I can’t talk to them about Fourth of July cupcakes and birthdays or whatever other bullshit while standing in a place that meant so much to us.” You paused, “that still means so much to me.”  
You suddenly tore your eyes away from the hypotonic dark waters, “Fuck, I – I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to just drop that all on you. Shit.”
You contemplated diving headfirst into the lake and swimming to Canada before you embarrassed yourself further.
“N-no, no.” He muttered your name. “I get it. OK. I do.”
“I don’t know if you – um – knew this or not. But, the Beef belonged to my brother, Mikey, and uh…he died a few months back and left it to me.” Carmy sniffed. “Actually, uh, saying he died doesn’t exactly cut it.”
There was a flare of unmistakable anger to his tone. Your gaze lifted sharply from the plate and fell upon Carmy’s agonized expression. It was as if sorrow and anger were at war with one another and trapped within a stalemate. His brow crinkled and his eyes stared, unfocused, toward the sand.
“He was an addict, which I didn’t know about, and he – uh – he killed himself. He shot himself.” He said and you flinched at his brusque tone. “We used to come to Lake Michigan all the time, you know? As kids. Especially when things were good with my mom.”
Cake icing stuck to the roof of your mouth and the usual response of ‘I’m sorry for your loss’ laid bitter and heavy on your tongue. The world glistened and blurred. You ducked your face away from Carmy’s to brush away the tears with your knuckles. You could imagine the burden on his shoulders. A burden similar yet dissimilar to your own. Your grandad lived a long, successful life and died of old age. He left you his legacy, polished as it was, just like Mikey left Carmy his. A wild, foolish part of you wished you could lessen the weight on his spine and ease the suffering on his face. It was impossible, of course. You couldn’t rescue Carmy from his own grief anymore than he could rescue you from yours.
But at least on this night below stars and ghosts – you weren’t alone.
He sighed. “So, yeah. I get it.”
You lowered your head onto his shoulder without saying anything else. You knew it was the champagne making you sleepy and melancholy, but that didn’t stop you from grazing your fingertips across the warm, exposed skin of Carmy’s wrist. You realized it wasn’t only Lake Michigan that harbored memories for him. The entire city of Chicago served as a reminder, and you wondered how Carmy survived without breaking down at every intersection.
He turned his palm upward. You slid your fingers between his and squeezed gently, though his fingers remained extended and did not curl inward toward yours. You sat in front of Lake Michigan, with a plate of wedding cake on your lap, beside a beautiful boy who terrified and thrilled you in equal parts.
“Hey Carmy?”
“Hm?”
You asked quietly, “Are we friends?”
He snorted lightly. “Y-yeah, I think so.” You heard him swallow. “I never had a lot of time for friends in New York.”
“Or here.” Something in his tone inspired you to raise your head from his shoulder. Whatever resolve you built against Carmy crumpled fast and sweet like cotton candy on your tongue. There was no use fighting it any longer. You wanted to know him. You were tired of denying yourself what you wanted.
You searched his face and knit your brow, “What do you mean?”
“I was a shy kid. I mean, Mikey was my best friend. At least, I thought he was until I realized he was everyone’s best friend, you know? That’s just who he was. He had – uh – this magnetic personality.” He said, gesturing with his hand, “and I don’t know—I got to New York, and everything got quieter, and I was focused, and I was determined, and Mikey cut me out of his life, and I cut people out of mine and I – yeah – I just didn’t…”
He licked his lips, then frowned. “I didn’t really try to make friends, I guess.”
You smiled tenderly. “You sound like me.”
The blue in his eyes flooded with warmth when he looked at you, “Were you anti-social or just highly competitive?”
You cast your gaze heavenward to the brilliant, dark sky with a rueful smile. “I wanted to be perfect.” You said.
“I thought it would make life easier if I wasn’t influenced by peer pressure. I avoided making friends, or socializing at all really, until Grandpa intervened. He made me get my shit together.”
Your laughter rasped wetly within your throat.
“I mean he really made me get it together. Mom was busy working and rebuilding her life, and Dad ran off with his perfect, secret family. I didn’t smoke at the time or drink, so I coped in other ways, and he—it sounds so lame, but he saw me.”
You whispered, “He was the only one who saw me.”
This was why you needed to make him proud. It was why you needed to be successful, competent, and perfect. You owed him. You needed to pay him back for those years of unwavering support. You never would’ve gone to college, never would’ve pursued this life, if you hadn’t spent your summers with him. He was – in many ways – a father to you.
You explained all of that to Carmy in a hurried, panicked tone before the tears started to fall. The words had spilled out of you like someone twisted a valve inside your brain.
You were usually better at this. You talked about your grandfather all the time to his old associates and business-friends. Except those people never asked about your childhood, or your memories of him, or the gray hole in your life that existed in his absence. None of those people could understand the depth of the loss you endured.
“Goddamnit!” You shouted, wiping your cheeks stained with evidence of your grief, “You can’t tell anyone you saw me cry.”
“Who would I tell?” He nudged your shoulder with his and his fingers finally enclosed around yours, “I have one friend, remember?”
“Hm.” You hummed around the fork tines with another bite of cake. “Good point.”
“What about Richie?” You asked.
“He’s a family friend.”
“Not your friend, though?”
Carmy shook his head, “I mean - I don’t know. I think he wants me to go back to New York.”
“Will you?”
A line formed between Carmy’s brows. “What?”
“Go back to New York.” You selfishly hoped he would stay no matter what happened. If you had enough time, then you could pursue something honest with Carmy. It could be solid, and tangible, and Good. And yes, it would likely end with your heart being broken, but at least the middle and beginning would be fun. You were cynical when it came to romance, or relationships, or God forbid--love. But openly talking about your rawest wounds in front of Carmy altered your perspective. Maybe a relationship was just finding someone who made you feel brave.
He stopped looking at the pavilion over your shoulder and met your eyes, “No.”
You bit back your smile.
Together, you finished the two slices of cake in silence with your forks occasionally clashing with a soft metallic ‘ping.’ You set the plate aside with a rock on the surface to stop it from flying off in the wind. You thought of his brother, his loneliness in New York and in Chicago, and the beast of burden in the shape of a struggling restaurant. You thought about your past and uncertain future. Carmy continued to hold your hand, calloused and warm, and you didn’t want this evening to end.
You asked the singular question weighing on your mind.
“Why do you think Mikey left you the restaurant?”
Carmy replied, “To fuck with me.”
The wind stirred your hair and it caught against your nose and lips. “You think so?”
“Shit.” He sighed heavily. “I – I don’t know. I have no fucking clue he was thinking. I wish I did. I wish I knew anything about him.”
Your heart splintered at his defeated, angry tone. You wished grief was physical, like a blanket, that you could remove from his shoulders. You wanted to do more for him beyond listening. You wanted to chase that hurt, angry look from his eyes with a broom and demand it never return.
“Tell me something you did know.” You said gently, “Something easy. Like…uh…I don’t know? His shoe size?”
Carmy snorted and leveled you with a disbelieving, flat look. He removed his hand from your grasp and pulled his cigarettes from his coat pocket. You waited while he lit up and admired the shadows flickering across Carmy’s face. The champagne no longer lingered in your veins. The bubbly, giddy feeling had only one culprit and it was the person beside you. He inhaled, exhaled smoke through his nostrils, and wordlessly held the cigarette out to you.
Sharing a cigarette was as close as you’d get to kissing him.
“Mikey was…” He licked his lips. “He was loud, and funny, and—he—he’d walk into a room, and he’d light it up, you know?”
You passed the cigarette back with a faint smile. You suspected his relationship to Mikey was a complicated one and you wouldn’t untangle it over the span of a single cigarette.
“He taught me how to ride a bike. Sugar—Natalie—I mean, my sister, too.” Carmy threaded his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know what that says about him.”
“Sometimes, it’s less about what the memory says and more about how it makes you feel.” You shrugged. In your eyes, you thought Mikey must have a decent amount of patience and resolve to teach his younger siblings to ride a bike. Patience and determination were two traits that worked well within the restaurant business.
The cigarette dangled from his lips, and he shook his head slightly, before pressing his fingers to his mouth, and pulling it away. The vapor seeped through his teeth. Carmy’s expression was perturbed but he didn’t elaborate or share his thoughts. His eyes shined glassy and distant. Perhaps taking a walk down memory lane wasn’t what he needed right now. No worries.
You snatched the cigarette out from his fingers and the act startled him. You smiled with smoke unfurling in front of your eyes and distorting Carmy’s features.
“Come on.” You clambered to your feet and gripped onto Carmy’s muscled shoulder as you slid your sneakers back onto your feet. “My ass is getting cold sitting out here. Do you wanna take the L together?”
“What about the wedding?”
You scoffed, flicking cigarette ash onto the sand, “Jimmy didn’t pay us to stick around and help clean up.”
You reached down for him and wiggled your fingers, “The offer will expire in ten seconds.” You opened your mouth to start the countdown, but Carmy grabbed your hand, and you pulled him to his feet. He let you go immediately, and you chose to not think about it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Carmy watched the reflection of you in the glass across from his seat. You were half-asleep on his shoulder, your head nodding with the train’s movement, and your lips slightly parted. He hadn’t expected his night to take this type of turn after leaving the Al-Anon meeting. You had stood before him in the sand, your cheeks flushed and eyes dark, and Carmy convinced himself he was dreaming before you spoke. You were always surprising him - literally and figuratively.
He swallowed tightly at the memory of your tearful expression. He would never understand Mikey. He would never figure out his motivations, or decode his ciphers, but he was starting to understand you. You threw yourself into everything with passionate, courageous fervor. You hated when someone saw you cry. You chased perfection. You idolized your grandfather. You were forthright, and proud, and quick with dark, teasing looks and clever grins. You were a stubborn know-it-all and perpetually charming.
The intercom announced the next stop and you stirred. “Hmph. Carmy?”
He blinked down at you. “Hm?”
“It’s all real with you.” You muttered sleepily into his shoulder. “I can’t compartmentalize for shit when you’re around.”
His lungs expanded with a deep, full inhale. He reached out and tucked away a piece of your hair that fell into your face. His heart tripped with an uneven tempo. The train slowed, pistons hissing, and doors sliding opening beneath the harsh fluorescent lights. He knew your stop was next and loathed the idea of saying goodnight. He would ride this train, up and down the river forever, if it meant he could stay next to you.
He cleared his throat and said, “Your stop is next.”
“Ugh.” You grumbled, “Fuck off. I know.”
You sat up, leaning forward, and he missed the weight of your head on his shoulder the minute it was gone. You scrubbed your hands over your face, taking your phone out, responding to text messages with a bleary-eyed expression. His hands twitched in his lap. He wanted to settle his palm between your shoulder blades. He wasn’t a complete idiot. Normal people didn’t have urges like this about their friends. Maybe it was a side-effect of sleeping together but he didn’t know.
“You’re – um - you’re good to walk home, right?” He inquired carefully. He imagined where you lived and assumed it was better than his depressing apartment.
You nodded and glanced over your shoulder, “Thanks for hanging out with me tonight.”
He shrugged and aimed his tone for nonchalance, “What are friends for?”
You twisted your torso toward him, careful delight illuminated your eyes, “Did you really think our cake was good?”
“I thought it was better than just ‘good’.” He clarified, “I thought it was ‘fire’ which is the highest compliment a chef can give to another.”
You answering smile set his inexperienced, aching heart overdrive. The train slowed, its announcement crackling over the speakers, and you swayed when you stood. He caught the sleeve of your coat with his thumb and forefinger. Your eyes flickered down to his hand before meeting his gaze, quiet and cautious. A heartbeat echoed between you. He had few, precious seconds before you were gone, and he’d never guess when you might turn up again. You were across the street, yet it felt like you were a hundred miles away.
You said, “Night, Carm.”
“Don’t – um – don’t be a stranger, alright? You can - you can stop by anytime.” He swallowed nervously, releasing your coat, and scratching his forehead with his thumb nail. “Richie hasn’t shut up about you since you catered Eva’s party.”
“Please remind him that wasn’t me. That was Delilah.”
“Yeah, well, maybe he just wants to take Delilah out on a date or something.” Carmy guessed with a shrug.
It was a paltry excuse. Richie didn’t really talk about you that much beyond his joking quips and annoying assumptions. Carmy wanted you to come by regardless of the reason. He wanted to have another smoke break with you. He wanted to know more about your life, your past, hell - everything. Desire filled his chest, hot and bright and close to bursting. If only willpower alone could stop the train doors from opening.
“I can make that happen.” You pursed your lips. “She’s single.”
The doors slid open with a hiss. He exhaled your name in farewell. You stepped off the train onto the concrete platform. Carmy’s knee bounced in his seat. He leaned back, eyes toward the steel ceiling, and gleaming bars.
‘He’s the only one who saw me.’ He set his jaw in remembrance and was unable to shake the feeling that he felt the same way about Mikey. His older brother had been his best friend, his guardian, and his hero—the person who saw him—until he stopped looking. And no matter what he did, no matter the accolades, and the praise, Mikey never looked at him again. Never told him he was proud, or impressed, or that he was sorry for the years of silence. He sniffled, his tears sharp and prickly against his eyelids. He pinched the upper bridge of his nose and pressed his fingers into the corners of his eyes.
He kept it together until he crossed the threshold to his apartment. The door slammed. His heart split. Carmy leaned his back against the door and sank to the floor with his hands covering his face. He wasn’t embarrassed to cry in the privacy and safety of his shitty apartment. His throat ached, his eyes burned, and twin rivers of snot trailed onto his mouth. For a long moment there was no other sound in the small hallway beyond his ragged, hiccupped breathing.
Until his phone vibrated in his pocket. He cleared his eyes with his fingertips. An overwhelming sense of anxiety and concern consumed him before he looked at his phone. What if the message was related to The Beef? What if someone was quitting? What if it was worse than that?
Your name glowed in blue-light on the screen.
‘What kind of coffee do you like?’
He pressed his lips together, blinking away the last of his tears, and slowly typed a response; ‘All of it.’
‘Heard.’ You said, followed by, ‘I expect nothing less from an insomniac.’
Despite the hollow, painful ache of missing his brother, Carmy laughed – a brief, dry sound. He clutched his phone between his fingers like al lifeline. An electric, unseen tether to you, and to the sense of grounding that you gave him.
‘Who said I was an insomniac?’
‘No one! I can sense these things.’ A short delay before the next message came through, ‘It takes one to know one, I guess.’
He got to his feet with a quiet grunt and peeled his jacket from his shoulders. He knew he needed to shower, but it would have to wait until tomorrow. He didn’t have the energy for it no matter how simple it seemed. He rinsed his mouth with mouthwash at the kitchen sink and collapsed onto the couch with a soulful, long exhale. He stared at his open text and every quiet, doubtful thought came rushing into his head with a bloodthirsty vengeance.
You deserved better. The more he understood you, the more you let him in, the more certain he was of that fact. He couldn’t and shouldn’t drag you into the shitshow of his life and all its barbed wire. He was a mess. You deserved someone functional, healed, and experienced. His time at Noma, or the French Laundry, didn’t mean shit compared to everything he didn’t know when it came to relationships – platonic or otherwise. He felt like he was bumbling through the dark, stepping on glass, and knocking over fine China.
The worst part was knowing that Mikey would know what to say to him. He’d have a quip, or some anecdote, or gravely spoken advice. Carmy set his phone facedown onto the coffee table without replying and turned his television on to Pasta Grannies.
His dreams were filled with tickertape, and smoke, and the curve of your profile just out of view.
(Part 8 )
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1tbls · 6 months
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some commentary on this DE dev log:
"To be from Revachol is to be Revacholian. To be deserted, destroyed. A drug addict with an immunodeficiency disorder. A joke and a clown and a loser baby."
is this saying harry has an immunodeficiency disorder...? or just giving an example of the Revacholian Condition.... if it's harry, my god man, please get out of the trash cans.
"Below Precinct 41 there’s a kebab merchant called Kuklov who makes kebabs that make you immortal if you can eat three and survive."
this is canon. to me. and i think harry has achieved it.
"Once we were an octopus that straddled the world, sucking up natural and human resources from Iilmaraa to South-East Seol. The city state that screwed the whole world."
city-state confirmed 👍🏻 that's just pleasing to me, a puzzle piece slotted in. also hmm, the seol thing, hmmm. i wonder if that's not meant to be Samara/Safre, though? though, seol was an ally to the suzerain during the revolution so... maybe here "ally" really meant more like "vassal state".
"In the ‘20s, the city was divided into zones de contrôle under foreign nations: the Mesque Zone, the Occident-Graad zone, and the International zone. The International Zone is west of the river."
i wonder how canon this is? i wonder what's up with the mesque zone, assuming it's east of the river? there seems to be quite a few mesque people in revachol, i wonder if this is why... like, the rising fascism as a pushing factor, and loosened emigration policy from mesque to revachol as a release valve...
"In the Revachol Citizen’s Militia, a citizen-funded police force as safe (and well-funded) as that nuclear reactor."
well this just spells it right out huh
"Radio networks criss-cross the air, spewing meaningless, feverish political rhetoric."
harry and the furies have spent too much time growing up listening to revacholian radio.
"Your bell bottom pants make your ass look fat"
does harry have ass or not? the debate rages on.
"It’s up to you – and you alone – to save the whole world. To untie the great knot. To crack the case. To resolve reality. You are the last Revacholian hero. The Revacholian hero has nothing, but he must conquer everything." "All you have to help you in this – the last and the greatest of the cases undertaken by man on Earth, in the sheer face of death and history – is Lieutenant Kim Kitsuragi from Precinct 57."
this rings to me of manic thinking, and also woofa doofa says some things about harry's breakdown. but also. gay. "I AM THE ONLY MAN IN THE WORLD WHO CAN SAVE EVERYTHING -- except, also, lieutenant kitsuragi 🥺" such is harry's faith in him.
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sol-consort · 2 months
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Hearing you talk about ME3 really solidifies to me that Bioware really just tends to drop the ball when it comes to their 3rd games in terms of writing. It's not like the 3rd games are bad, persay, but they fall flat compared to their predecessors.
For the dragon age games, I've chalked it up to EA meddling and certain writers leaving the games at the time; I wonder if it's the same for ME3? Maybe the crunch time? Bioware really released some games back to back.
The evaporating of morally grey areas really sucks too, I always felt Bioware removed their teeth from their writing in order to appeal to the mass market in later years.
EX: Dragon Age got a whole lot less darker with Inquisition
Damn, now I'm worried about liking Dragon Age too much and getting my heart broken by the sequel games.
The problem is that they take steps back a lot, never commit to something and end up ereasing what they've built. It's like removing the things that made them unique just to follow the current trends of that time, which by now have aged like milk and It just makes me confused on why they flipped a switch so suddenly.
In ME1, it's a military game so you assume they'll portray the military and police as the heros saving the galaxy with no corporation right? Especially with how old the game is.
But they don't, they make you think that they do at the start but then flip a switch and show you the bad things too. How a lot of time the military does more harm than good.
In the ending of the game, they especially resonate that point to you with a big reveal. It builds up perfectly to the second game where you go rogue and help an organisation called cerberus that is independently funded and looks out for the well being for all humans.
They achieve progess because they are devoid of politics, it's mission and straight to action and making the best choice you can for the future of humans. In the first game you've only heard of them and stopped some unethical operations they had around.
They're not like the maifa, they're not in it for the money. But they stay in the grey zone a lot. They kill, they fund unethical experiments and only pull the plug if it becomes too unethical and croses the line into evil.
They saved you and gave you everything in the second game and asked for nothing in return but for you to do your damn job and stop the threat on humanity. Afterwards each of you go your seperate ways when the mission ends.
In the third game, you go back to the alliance and you're framed as a traitor for joining cerberus even tho it was the alliance who refused to take you seriously before.
Even when the threat turned out to be real. And you did publicly save everyone's ass, they're still like "bu buhh but you did it with the baddies!"
The alliance is again framed as the hero, Cerberus gets reduced to evil goons who torture for fun and are all power-hungry and the alliance can do no wrong how dare you question the heros of the army.
It's just.....disappointing. they've taken ten steps back and invalidated both the second and first games.
Also it's glitchy and buggy, it's unfinished. The first two games let you explore new spaces and ships on your own pace, in the third game you're dragged from tutorial to tutorial with a barrage of information.
Progress is less organic, combat is more clunky because they added RE and AC movesets with the rolling, stealth kills and survival priority over combat.
The characters look so ugly- the facial expressions are so weird and your face clips a lot. It's like a rough first animation that needs to be toned down because why am I glaring with spock like eyebrows and why did eyelids clip into my eyes.
There is an annoying vintage filter on the screen, colour is scarce and everything is grey, blue, black and medical white.
The ship is where you spend most of your time when not in missions, it used to be so beautiful and sleek smooth. Stars and futuristic technology. Now it's all gross military base with cables on the ground, dim lighting and empty spaces where decoration used to be. It's greasy at best, who the fuck stole the ceiling boblights I just wanna talk.
This is just sad, I talked so passionately about the first game because I genuinely was impressed. The second game had its flaws, mostly with the story and pacing, but everything else was good! They were turning things around and getting innovative, if you ignore the RE virus slowly spreading.
Now it's like, rather than design a new ship they pissed on the second game's ship and handed it back to you, yellow lights and everything. After robbing it and trashing the place.
I have a theory bc I'm at the start of the game but I might be just coping- what if they ship gets cleaner the more I progress? The construction parts will be gone right? They'll pick up their trash and dirty dishes right? RIGHT? I'M NOT COPING RIGHT?
.
They made companions after mission talks happen without cutscenes and now they're like npcs. Imagine if Lae'zel spoke to you each time you talked to her like the party banter instead of an actual face to face conversation.
Which is so weird because they had the face to face conversation since the first game so why did they remove it???
Resident FUCKING evil does not have it.
It explains the annoyiny cutscenes after cutscene that I can't skip, the bloated dialogue.
They took my eyelashes :(
They took away my ability to speak to people in conversations :(
They took away my clean pristine ship :(
They took away my hero statues and now people in the news hate me :(
They took away my ability to explore freely because the reapers are on my tail 24/7 :(
They took away Ashley :(
But hey. My sniper can shoot three times before reloading now so. There is. That.
Yay.
YET A SINGLE CLIP ONLY HAS 2 BULLETS WHAT WERE YOU THINKING PEOPLE.
Thanks for listening I actually feel better telling someone, I can't wait to play dragonage. Modern game standards I miss you please come back.
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thistransient · 1 year
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2022 retrospection to come later, tonight we complain about tonight. - I’m in one of those situations where I’m mildly annoyed that no one invited me for any sort of New Year’s event, which is almost certainly because they either know I had surgery, or know I hate crowds, or both, so I would have turned down any invitations anyways (and thus certainly didn’t take the initiative myself to invite anyone else to hang out) but that’s not the point, is it now. Maybe part of it is that I’m also being forced to reflect on the fact that my previous New Years in Taipei were both spent with my ex when we were friends, ugh. I am going to remedy all of this by taking my cranky ass for a walk soon, possibly involving a treat from 7-11, followed by coming home and getting very snuggly in bed and going to sleep at a reasonable hour.
- I also can’t be too upset today because I finally hassled my Australian bank into refunding a fraudulent transaction from April that I only noticed this month because I rarely use or check the account (yeah, technically my fault), but listen to this- I also contacted the vendor to bolster my evidence after the bank investigation initially ruled that I’d been aware of the transaction and I needed to escalate the dispute, and the vendor said they’d been contacted by the card issuer and forced to reimburse the funds back in April! It was also a purchase made in-person in the US, while I have been firmly situated in Taiwan and in possession of the card in question this whole time. The case manager for my dispute mentioned nothing of this aspect, and only reiterated that the bank was still ruling this my fault and giving a one-time refund. Something seems fishy here.
- I spent today doing all the homework I’ve been ignoring for the past two weeks. Oh, my brain. I’m worried going back to class is gonna put me back on the fast train to headache-land too. I’m only doing this for the residency permit at this point. Theoretically if I took one more semester (which I’d have to find a new school for, because mine is ending my level after this) I could finally get that student work permit I thought I could get at 6 months in, and health insurance too. However, I generally do not even have the energy to go back outside after getting home from class, much less work a part-time job. It would be much more effective to just get a proper job, which would also give me residency and health insurance (and a start on accumulating points for permanent residency application). I know I can do this, I just have to first convince myself I want to do it, which is a whole other can of worms. 
- On a positive note, my recovery is going incredibly well, so well in fact that I have to suspect my appeal at the angry ghost temple actually had something to do with it, and thus I should make haste and fulfill my end of the bargain, which partly involves sacrificing my long and luxurious rattail braid, chockers with many years of accumulated spiritual power I was saving for precisely this kind of thing, cause that’s clearly irresistible to spirits, right. (I really am attached to it, pun not intended- it has to be a meaningful sacrifice after all.) Perhaps a bit of ritual would be a fitting way to round off a year already quite full of casting off old fears, and other unexpected things.
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orchiddarling · 2 years
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Welcome to the Quarry! pt 1.
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Pairing: Travis Hackett x Reader (M/F)
Prompt: The lack of fics for Travis.
A/N: I need more Travis and/or Chris x reader. So I said... fuck it! I’ll do it myself. (You also are 26!!) Warning!: There will be smut later. (Gif does not belong to me; it belongs to the owner!)
You were on your way to Hackett’s Quarry a day early; you had your music up and the window slightly lowered to let the cool night air in. Your air conditioner was broken and you were hoping that this job at a kid’s camp would help cover some vehicle repairs as well as a better place when you returned home.
You were older than the teens that were going to be working there and you were nervous. Chris had hired you to look out for them as he didn’t quite trust that they’d be okay on their own. A glorified babysitter, this should be fun!! You rolled your eyes and sighed, humming softly to the music as you made your way down the stretch of road. Even with the stars and the moon out; the road was so dark. You were starting to worry that you had taken a wrong turn at the fork in the road about 30 minutes ago.
You decided to slow down and pull over to get a better look at the map you had laying on the passenger’s seat. You turned the car’s interior light on and pulled the map to you, “Where the hell am I?” You mumbled to yourself as you traced your finger along the road you think you’d taken. “I’m sure I’m right.... here,” you pointed to your location before examining it more. You were not too far from an open looking spot on the map, “Is that where the Quarry is?” You could admit it now, you were definitely lost. It only took one brief look to your plugged in phone to realize that you had no signal. Is this night getting progressively worse?  Your body slumped back in defeat, your head hitting the seat with a long sigh escaping you.
You were too lost in your thoughts with your eyes closed that you didn’t notice an officer pull up behind you. Your music faded just in time for a loud knock on your window, “Excuse me, ma’am?” Your window was still partially rolled down so the voice startled you. You looked at the Officer wide eyed while trying to calm yourself; rolling down the window so you could speak clearly, “Y-Yes sir? I’m sorry... I was just--” “You were..? Doing what? Why are you out on this road so late?” He interrupted you rudely before you could explain. His left hand leaning on your car and his right bracing himself on your windowsill. He was close to you as you spoke. He was so close that you could smell the cologne he was wearing. It did smell pleasant, “As I was saying, I was headed to Hackett’s Quarry. I’m going to be a counselor there this summer.” The Officer seemed very skeptical, studying your features to see if you were lying to him. There were weird people always trying to get close to the Quarry;. The rumors of the Hag of Hackett’s Quarry would spur young adventurers and thrill seekers into the forest surrounding the Quarry. It was a pain in the ass and tonight, well, he really didn’t need that.
“Counselor’s aren’t expected until tomorrow night,” He hummed low, looking at the night sky for a moment before awaiting a response from you. “I know, I wanted to come early so that I could prepare. Mr. Hackett said he would be there. So... he’s kind of waiting for me.” The truth was, you didn’t want to pay for a whole month’s rent and that led you to couch hopping at friend’s places. It saved you some money! Your plan was to come up a day early, get acquainted and comfy before everyone else started to show up. You would also start getting paid as soon as you got there.
He sighed and closed his eyes before giving a stern response, “You will not be going there tonight. You’re going to head to the Harbinger Motel and go first thing to Hackett’s Quarry in the morning.” You could see his grip on the window sill tighten slightly, he was rather annoyed. Had this been happening to him a lot lately? “I understand, Officer, but I really don’t have the funds to stay at a Motel. I swear... Mr. Hackett’s---” “You will do as I say, ma’am, and you will head to the Harbinger Motel.” He grit the sentence through his teeth. You didn’t want to push the subject further, you didn’t have the money and this guy was not listening to you. So, you did what you thought was the best option, “Okay, I’ll go to the Motel tonight. What’s your name, sir? So I can tell Mr. Hackett who kept me from making it?” You said with a sly smile, watching his brows knit together in irritation. He shook his head before pushing himself up to stand, starting to walk towards his cruiser, “Harbinger Motel ma’am. Tonight..” You shook your head in response, turning your attention back to the map. You weren’t any closer to knowing the location but you had a feeling that open space was the Quarry. You were going to go tonight; you had no money and you would much rather spend the night in your car then go to a run down Motel in the middle of nowhere. -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You exited your car and slammed the door shut behind you. You pumped your fist into the air victorious as you moved to the trunk. You had found Hackett’s Quarry, without the help of the Officer! It looked a bit frightening at this time of night, but you had to admit; it was still gorgeous. The lodge stood in front of you, it’s large deck seemed to wrap around the entire front of the place. This is awesome!
As you pulled your bag from the back, you stopped for a moment before closing the trunk. It was eerily quiet out, there were no birds or night time animals. It was a full moon, the stars were out; and not a single peep from an owl, frogs, or crickets. You felt a chill creep up your back before closing the door. This feels... so wrong.. you thought as you ascended the stairs to the front door of the lodge. All the lights were off and it didn’t look like Mr. Hackett was here.
Your hand reached up to knock on the door, “Hello? Mr. Hackett? Are you here?” You called out into the lodge but there was no answer. You moved to one of the big windows to peer inside. There was nothing; no movement, no sound, no light. It was empty. Fuck... I really do have to sleep in my car now. Still better than a Motel. You opened your trunk door again to put your bag down.
Just as you were about to close the trunk door; a pair of strong hands grab you from behind. You were about to let out a scream when one hand came up to press against your lips, effectively sealing them. You struggled in the person’s grasp, only pressing yourself further into them. You felt the stranger’s face close to your head, leaning close to say something, “I told you to go to the Motel; you brought this on yourself.” It... sounded familiar..  wait... No it couldn’t be. It’s the Officer from earlier?! His hand unwrapped from your waist to dig into his pocket while trying to steady you. You felt something cold against your neck, a pinch and then your world started to spin. You felt like a fish out of water the more you struggled in his grasp.
“You did this to yourself!!” He said louder as you started to fall limp in his arms. Had you heard concern laced in his words? No, he was a psycho... and you were his victim. Not how you wanted to start this summer AT ALL!! Would you have been safer if you would have listened and gone to the shitty Motel instead?
Your last vision was of the man carrying you to his squad car bridle style, mumbling something about young people being ‘so fucking stupid’ before you felt weightless and your world darkened.
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peacht44 · 10 months
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literally screaming for him to wake up and see me and appreciate me for everything I’ve done for us since coming back home to him after the break(up) because he is losing me, I’m getting tired of fighting. And still he is apathetic at best.
Currently in financial ruin for this “man” ama.
Idc if this isn’t want tumblr is for- I literally have lost my entire family due to my decision to come home and try to make it work with him again after what he did to me, they don’t respect me and are keeping their distance. So I have no family of my own blood (just my little fam who adopted me as their own for giving their dad another chance) and exactly 1 friend who lives on the other side of the country. I have no one and nothing currently (other than a sick ass LDR stash necklace dupe on the way 🙌🏻) so forgive my old ass for being a MySpace kid who hated fb and went offline during the tumblr era, I’m just gonna rant here when I need because NOBODY knows me here.
It’s been 8 years since I attempted last, but each and every day lead me further down that path again and my depression sinks deeper and deeper and gets darker and more unholy by the day 😪 I’m too sunny and too bubbly to feel this way god I hate feeling this way. It would be so easy too and then 🤫 all quiet, no more pain physical or metaphysical or even emotional god that would be a dream. I can’t even buy my dad a Father’s Day or birthday gift (both back to back this month) because I threw my whole paycheck on the house we share that he’s refused to pay for (or even work for like physically Have a job for) in almost 2 years.
Where tf did my self respect go?? Why can’t I be the baddie I try to uplift other women to be when they’re down? Why am such a pushover who let’s him get away with murder??
My whole life is falling apart and all I can think is that no one is coming to save me this time. All I have is me and my own back, and even I hate me. I wish so badly I could be someone else, literally ANYONE else, and so I wish even harder for the silence. That eerie quiet to be only pierced by occasional muffled wails that I let out behind my hand clamped over my mouth through gritted teeth with the vent turned as high as it can go where no one can hear me slowly lose every single part of me that made me human, or even just me.
Maybe a nice grippy sock vacation WOULD be just the ticket to getting my mental back on track. At least it would be quieter there, in my head and in my bubble. For now my only comfort are racing nightmare anxious thoughts that play on a loop every minute or every hour of every day, I can’t seem to quieter them or stop a panic attack anymore. I don’t even know how to breathe on my own any more. I am 36 and no better off than living on my own for the first time at 16 again, and all I want to do is d*e, sometimes. Or kill the pathological people pleaser I give all of my energy to being. It’s time to go scorched earth on this Mf but it still won’t make him see me, or love me; or appreciate me for being a GD DISABLED WOMAN HE HAS LET FINANCIALLY SUPPORT HIM FOR 2 YEARS NOW. It’s gaslight gate-keep and hypocrisy 24/7 on my life so maybe it’s time to girlboss my way tf out of it and ghost every living soul I know, pack up my fur babies and flee this hell hole I’ve let my life become again. This Mf couldn’t even bother TO DO A THING for my birthday this year but cry about how he couldn’t afford a gift for me. Not try to earn some cash to even go on a date, just whine about not having the funds and then having the audacity to pass out on me early and let me agonize over every single thing I’ve fucked up in my life lately by diving deep down a cold lane with him again.
Nothing feels real anymore. I don’t even feel like a person. I’m so numb yet so soft and emotional and unstably sad all of the time but all I do is avoid it. Sitting in this pain might kill me, I can’t risk that.
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Monster High the Movie Review Part 8
Spoilers ahead!
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Once they had all the ingredients they try the potion, but screw it up, defeated, the gang heads back to school and agrees to try again tomorrow, showing the passage of time.
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Bloodgood, Mr. Komos and Cleo, who has taken on the role of apple polisher, Are waiting for them when they get back to the school.
Is Cleo in a different outfit? I literally can't tell anymore.
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BUSTED!
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They think they are in trouble for being out after curfew. the punishment for which is 1 months detention. (Mmm tasty world building!) but Bloodgood is actually mad at them for practicing witchcraft. Cleo snitched on them because yesterday Draculaura used an incantation to put a pimple on Cleos face while she was being a cow to Clawdeen... Which BTW is faithful to the OG cartoon. This is not the first time Cleo has gotten cursed acne.
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I like stuff that references the OG cartoon, I wish to rub up against it like a cat.
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Cleo: "In my mortal life I studied with Heka, God of Magic and Medicine. I know an incantation when one is thrown at me!"
So what I am hearing is... Cleo also studied witchcraft and should also be in trouble... or do they just give you a pass on what you did as a human after you die? in her defense it has been like 5,000 years. Also: Cleo what were you doing studying with a god as a mortal? I have so many questions! But that's not important. Bloodgood is pissed at them, searches Draculaura's bag, finds her spell book and threatens to tell her father, This makes the school- which to reiterate, is alive, freak out. stuff shakes, the lights flicker out, something screams, a stone gargoyle falls and nearly crushes Cleo but Clawdeen using her werewolf speed pulls her out of the way in time.
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Please ignore the Monty Python gargoyle, this copy is unfinished we must be kind to the VFX team.
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Cleo is completely stunned that Clawdeen saved her, Being undead I don't think a falling rock would actually kill Cleo (again?) but I bet it would hurt a whole bunch.
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Bloodgood ASSUMES that the schools destructive tantrum was caused by a human being among them. No one tells her this she just pulls it out of thin air, this is why it's an important life lesson to never assume, when you assume you make an ASS out of U and ME. Then in a super shady manner Mr. Komos says he will drive out the human, Bloodgood doesn't cancel the founders dinner because, like any school official she needs funding for her school. Which is interesting because OG Monster High never really worried about funding, the diaries implied that the students wealthy monster parents made generous donations to Monster High (Ramses De Nile most of all). So all their funding was private, but it's nice to see Bloodgood worry about it. I went to both a pubic high school & a private high school, this was always a big worry of the staff.
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Miia Harris earning her acting chops! The gang overhears Bloodgood blame a human being in the school for the destruction and Clawdeen is wracked with guilt. my heart breaks for her. I don't know if Mattel realizes it but as someone who's biracial (Hispanic & White) all of these half breed stories really hit close to home for me and I am sure many other mixed folks too. I haven't been this torn up since Freaky Fusion. But I also love it because our stories are rarely talked about at all, let alone in this frank of a manner. Not one thing or the other, often rejected by both. This is pretty deep for a kids movie. But that is what I like about Monster High! it's not afraid to go there!
8/?
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crazy56u · 1 year
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Happy 2023, and huge shoutout to the dummy who intended to watch this live due to having Monday off, only to then get asked to work that night anyway!
Already starting off on the right foot, he said sarcastically…
Previously on Quantum Leap: a bunch a shit happened, and Addison is in danger because of reasons.
Hard cut to paparazzi!
“Outta the shot!” Aww, that’s not nice, Ben earned a photobomb.
Okay, why is Carly giving off Janis Joplin vibes?
Also, why is Carly the tallest person in the world?
Okay, the guy Ben leapt into is 100% the guy from the State Farm commercials.
“I can’t believe you remembered I have a mom!”
In another world, this is a James Bond theme song.
“Addison, where are you, you’re missing some sick shit.”
Addison has been waiting two whole months to find out more about her death premonition.
“Fate’s Wide Wheel” walked so that this song could waltz.
There’s a world where this demo session lasted the whole episode.
“Sorry about that dramatic exit last time, it must’ve put a damper on the past few months.”
I love how Ben just sped through the exposition so that he and Addison could argue more.
“Carly died during her sound check. …wait, ain’t this-” “(Ben runs like the Flash)”
Just think, if Ben and Addison had their fight a split second longer, Carly would’ve turned into chunky salsa right then and there.
“SOMEBODY TELL ME WHAT THE HELL JUST HAPPENED!” Dude, you have eyes.
Wow, this episode really is just “Glitter Rock”: a singer almost gets lighting rigged, and then they get murdered after the big show.
“So, what do we know?” Ernie Hudson, getting philosophical on our asses.
“You don’t just step into a quantum accelerator unless it’s to save a person’s life!” Magic, Sam stepped into the accelerator to make sure the funding didn’t get yanked. Pick a new theory.
Okay, but why would preventing Addison’s death require leaping into the future, though? Just so see what happens so they can prevent it in the past? Isn’t that overly complicating things, though?
Plot twist: Magic isn’t having headaches because of the time travel bullshit, he just has undiagnosed chronic migraines.
“How do we prevent something from happening if we don’t know what that is?” That literally describes 95% of this entire series.
Look, at this point, Janis is probably just doing all of the shit she’s done because she was bored, we don’t fucking know.
MORAL OF THE STORY: If you let your code become open source, it will fuck your in the ass.
Janis is in Belize? Didn’t know this show too place in the Breaking Bad universe…
“Is that Elton John?” “Maybe he murders Carly…” It would be a fucking funny plot twist if Elton John actually was the murderer.
I love how Ben is speaking into his wrist to cover for him talking to Addison, as if wrist microphone technology fucking existed in 1979.
“How did you see that light?” He has eyes, Carly.
Addison picked the worst time to leave…
“Look, I need to focus on my job, also I’m engaged, so, uh, yeah.”
Ma’am, it’s the tail end of the 1970s, I am certain you have had worse pity parties.
Ben has to get rid of a junkie sibling. Only in Chicago.
And of course the junkie was the murderer!
“I’ve heard such great things… (proceeds to suplex her)”
“What, you’re not gonna let me in either? You’re acting like I’m gonna murder her!
Only Ben could make a lie sound honest.
“Ben, how fucking dare you sympathize with the junkie murderer.”
What if turns out she actually is sober, and everyone is a jerk for thinking differently?
“Most killers don’t seem like killers.” Fucking mic drop.
“Look, I’ll be quick, it’s not like Janis is about to show up and eat most of my time.”
“Welcome back to Chicago,” a sentence no one says willingly.
I suspect Ian is a die hard conspiracy theorist.
“She used to write all my songs.” Ah. That explains the jealousy…
“I think her sister is clean and sane.” “Jack, I wanna yell at you, but not during the interview, come with me.”
Why do I have a sinking suspicion that those letters are forced, and the manager is the killer?
…holy shit, this really is “Glitter Rock”; every is a fucking suspect!
Meanwhile, in a place that is not Chicago…
“You happen to know the WiFi password?” Easy; “password”
“I’m not here to arrest you, Janis,” she lied effortlessly.
“Family’s complicated.” Janis, Al would have a stroke if he heard you drugged your mom, pick a new excuse.
“Why did Ben come to be when he had all of you?” … … …don’t tell me Janis was gaslighting Ben all this time…
I love how Ben and Addison have resorted to just pacing in circles.
Did Addison seriously dead ass suggest using Carly as bait?
“Yeah, that’s why you tell her about the plan-” Addison, that’s still using her as bait, what the fuck
“She trusts you! Try trusting her! No, I’m not projecting about you keeping shit from me, shut up!”
“Is this about Carly, or about us?” Yes.
I honestly hate how my “Janis gaslit Ben” theory is starting to make more sense.
“What’re you doing?” “What I always do when I’m in Chicago: almost get killed.”
And Carly decided “Fuck the lot of ya, I’m out.”
…yeah, okay, Trevor is the murderer.
“Okay, I’m angry.” No shit.
I choose to believe that wasn’t in the script; Ernie Hudson is legitimately angry over this plot development.
“Look, shit sucks, that’s why we need to talk to each other.”
And Carly has decided to get crunk.
“I’m sorry I snapped at you before.” You’re not, but go on.
“Carly, Trevor is the real bad guy.” “… … … ( runs away in anger)”
“We can’t change the past.” Ben, it’s this show. Shut up.
Okay, points to Trevor for not even bothering to try and lie. He knows he’s hosed.
Okay, Ben fucking “Bye Felicia”ed his ass, kudos.
Meanwhile, back in Not Chicago…
I like the implication several hours passed in real time, and Janis and Jenn spent all that time drinking silently.
“These are my bodyguards.” “(Uno reverse card) Try again.”
“I drank all the coffee. I can’t feel my heart.”
Hug your sister, damnit.
Thank you.
“Well, Addison… we did it.” “…Ben, there’s still 12 minutes.”
Meanwhile, Trevor is blacked out in a gutter right now.
“Look, fuck being afraid, we’re smoking this bitch out. The concert’s on.”
FUCK YEAH “RAM JAM”
…so he wasn’t faking when he was shocked about the invite?
Magic Payphone
“Look, I’m outta a job and fucking drunk, why are you fucking harassing me, Jack…”
Trevor, stop monologuing and state the name!
Did Ben get stabbed, or slashed? That was hard to tell…
Meanwhile, while Ben is bleeding out, Janis’ vacation time is over.
I choose to believe Magic is just going to lock in a broom closet until she talks.
Ben, you got stabbed, just because you are about to leap doesn’t mean you skimp on proper stitching.
“Good evening, Chicago! My back up singer tried to stab me tonight, so here’s her replacement: my sister!”
Now they sound like Fleetwood Mac.
Addison, that was mean.
And Ben’s reward for saving the day? The shittiest ER episode!
This was well worth the wait; the back half looks extremely promising.
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chicago-geniza · 2 years
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NISHT REBLOGN
well roommate is moving out in. 3 weeks. lol. & i guess paying next month's rent & maybe july but after that i am, uh. suddenly responsible very unexpectedly for $400 more dollars a month when i do not have a regular income & had budgeted very carefully to live off my savings. so that's cool. haha. i've mentioned my mom helping me pay for things before & overheard them on the phone (not on purpose, our apartment has no soundproofing to speak of) saying something about them not being sure what my situation was but "[they] think [my] mom has money" & it's like dude. we are not talking "generational wealth that can pay my rent" we are talking "can help me pay for OTC meds & occasionally wire me funds for food delivery when i can't walk" lmfao. i can't afford to cover our whole-ass rent for more than a few months max & now i'm in an annoyingly pressed position. not as pressed as 2020 covid eviction & not as pressed as 2016-17 couchsurfing homelessness but it's still unpleasant given the uncertainty & instability of everything else right now. come on, man :(
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harrowharkwife · 2 years
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"it's just lazy and bad writing!"
oh my god he kissed someone who wasn't his girlfriend! bro sound the fucking alarms this season is off the rails!
y'all. if i had to watch showrunners lie to/gaslight/embarrass their entire cast using secret reshoots and script changes, a last minute fake ending, and a two year long NDA in order to push through an eleventh hour "season finale crazy plot twist they'll never see coming omg!1!!11!1" where they made their canonically depressed and suicidal main character (who we first meet while he is in inpatient treatment) litcherally kill himself following a season-long mental health crisis spiral, oh-so-conveniently saving them from the arduous ordeal of having to actually go through with writing the gay relationship they had been forecasting all season long (and getting tons of free press from the gay actor who played the main character's love interest about how excited he was to be a part of this important representation! ha. understandably, he was hurt and furious and crushed and humiliated when he realized he had been literally tricked into fucking marketing a bury your gays situation), and then try to walk all their dogshit choices back on Twitter by claiming it "wasn't suicide but rather a brave and selfless act of heroism in the heat of battle" even though they literally called it suicide in the episode, all while literally just flat-out lying and saying they ~had approval from the author of the original source material~ (an author who created that character in the first place as a form of catharsis for his own deeply personal real life mental health journey!) when in reality they never even attempted to consult or warn him (as evidenced by the author guest appearing on multiple fan run podcasts to publicly audibly cry about how fucking insulting and triggering and what a slap in the face this whole thing was and how it had completely ruined the story he wrote and loved so much) needless to mention the fact that the rest of the cast was so furious and betrayed that they were publicly liking tweets THEIR SHOWRUNNER BOSSES WERE *TAGGED IN* saying things like "this was dogshit unacceptable treatment and you should quit and i am so fucking sorry that you were tricked in this way" and literally running a fucking Trevor Project LGBTQ+ suicide prevention fund donation campaign set up in the name of this main character (and personally donating THOUSANDS of dollars to it)
(this show then limped on for one more pathetic season featuring stellar writing choices such as, uhh, werewolf STD? margo choosing irrelevant-ass fish josh over her best fucking friend in the world? oh, and my personal favorite, the series ending with all the straight couples paired off happily and starting exciting new adventures like getting married and having babies, starting a new society on another planet, etc meanwhile the last time we see the One surviving gay character, he's a) A WIDOW, b) beyond depressed, c) drinking again, d) a teacher for some reason even though he fucking hated school, e) hanging out at college dorms and parties as a professor? because i guess they were going for some "he peaked in grad school and it was all downhill from there" type shit, oh yeah and f) LITERALLY WITHOUT A SINGLE FRIEND OR FAMILY MEMBER because his best friend and every single person in his support system were on another fucking planet with no way for him to contact them ever again!
but like, it's fine, and it's not homophobic, because cardboard cutout background character man #4 with six total minutes of screentime who happens to be a weird ugly 1840s sex ghost who lives inside a magic bracelet- he's there! and he's willing to fuck eliot so it's all okay. #lovewins!)
anyway. if i lived through that then like. full offense but you can deal with a minor cheating plotline you don't love and a boring white bitch having a few more scenes than she should for *part* of *half* of*one* season. lmao
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