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cozy-cinnamon-roll · 2 months

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A Princess' Guide to Interrogating a Radio Demon

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing: Ler!Charlie, Lee!Alastor (strictly platonic)

Content/Trigger Warnings: tickling, interrogation (in the most playful sense). If there are any trigger warnings you'd like me to add in the future (and/or to this fic), PLEASE let me know! I am always happy to oblige.

This is a ticklefic! If that's not your cup of tea, kindly move along.

This is my first fic for Hazbin Hotel, so any feedback would be welcomed and deeply appreciated! (also, let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future work - I'm quite sure this'll be FAR from my last fic for this fandom hehe)

Hope you enjoy!

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Ever since he'd discovered glam metal, Angel has been blasting it nonstop from his room.

Unfortunately, his room happens to be directly beneath Alastor's... and the insulation in the hotel's walls leaves an awful lot to be desired. The Radio Demon's eye had been in a constant twitch for three days by the time he'd finally had enough.

"Alastor? Have you seen Angel's speakers?"

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When Charlie appears in his doorway, the demon in question is sitting comfortably on his couch, sipping a mug of black coffee and reading a newspaper (though Charlie isn't sure how he acquired it - the local paper has been out of print for weeks).

"No. But I've certainly had the displeasure of hearing them."

"They've gone missing. Do you have any idea where they might be?"

"Far away, I hope."

Charlie rolls her eyes and leaves to go consult the other guests. The deer takes a long draw from his mug.

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To Alastor's slight irritation, he only enjoys a few minutes of peace before the princess' voice echoes from the hall again.

"Oooh, Al...." Charlie sings.

"What is it, my dear?" the Radio Demon sings back absently.

"Nifty says she saw you with Angel's speakers yesterday."

"Did she?" He flips a page of his newspaper.

"Look, all I need to know is where you put them."

Long pause. "I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about."

"Alastor."

"Whaaat?" Though his eyes haven't left the page, his grin has widened slightly. "You think I'm lying?"

"You're always lying. That's your thing."

"...Touché."

Charlie perches on the sofa beside him.

"Are you gonna tell me where it is or not?"

"Fine. I'll be completely honest with you."

She perks up.

"I would honestly die a second death before subjecting myself to one more note of that infernal garbage."

Alastor's eyes flick up from his paper for the briefest of seconds, just to watch the bubbly princess' face fall into a delightfully exasperated scowl.

"You can't steal someone's stuff just because it annoys you!"

"On the contrary. That's exactly what I did."

Charlie narrows her eyes. "Alastor. You tell me where Angel's speakers are or else."

Alastor chuckles in spite of himself - Charlie's attempts to be intimidating never fail to amuse him.

"What's so funny about that?"

"My dear, I say this with the utmost respect and admiration for your many talents: there's a reason I tend to be the one called upon to scare off demonic threats."

Charlie huffs and crosses her arms. "Just because you're creepier and... more sadistic than me, doesn't mean I don't have ways of making you talk."

"Oh?" Alastor arches a skeptical eyebrow at his paper.

"So you better watch your step, Mister."

"Hmm. You make a compelling case." He flips another page. "Maybe I should tell you where Angel's poor excuse for music is."

Charlie brightens. "Really?"

"No."

The princess deflates.

He's right, of course: even if Charlie figures out a way to make herself legitimately threatening to the Radio Demon... he's the fucking Radio Demon. She may be the Princess of Hell, but she doesn't want to have to rebuild the hotel from rubble all over again.

The two sit in impassive silence for a few minutes - Charlie glaring at Alastor, Alastor staring stubbornly at his paper - until she finally stifles a sigh and slouches against the cushions. He's enjoying this, she just knows it. Sitting there with that stupid grin. He's probably been laughing to himself all night, imagining poor Angel waking up and finding his most prized possession missing.

She finds herself wishing she could make the old deer laugh himself sick sometime, just to teach him a lesson.

...Which is a horrible thought! Charlie's eyes widen, her brow furrowing in self-disgust. She could never bring herself to hurt Alastor, even via laughter.

In fact, she quite likes his laugh - it's a little maniacal, sure, and certainly hard to truly enjoy amid the gory contexts that typically trigger it. But if she knew a way to make him laugh at something other than another person's expense, she'd probably do it all the time... it's just that the things that make him laugh also tend to make Charlie nauseous.

Once again, the princess finds herself completely baffled by her own subjects. How one could be so tickled by anything that goes on down here - the pain, the violence, the gore...

Charlie tilts her head. She may have just gotten an idea.

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If Alastor had happened to cast a quick glance down the couch, the smile creeping across Charlie's face would've been enough to give him real pause.

But since he is instead stubbornly focused on his paper, he is completely unprepared for the fingers that suddenly begin crawling oh-so-gently up his side.

To her initial disappointment, Charlie finds at least three layers of fabric dampening her touch, and aside from a subtle flinch at first contact, Alastor himself remains perfectly still.

But then a low buzz of radio static swells around them. As she probes up his ribs, she can hear a soft crinkle of paper as his grip tightens.

"Charlie..." His voice is oddly clipped.

"Mm?" Charlie takes one glance at his face, and her smile deepens - even Alastor's signature grin can't mask the effect. He's still technically staring at the paper, but his eyes have gone wide and blank. He opens his mouth to continue just as her fingers reach his armpit - and his jaw quickly clamps shut. It's clearly taking everything in him not to squirm.

"Got something to say, Al?" She starts pinching back down his ribcage.

"Mmph!" The giggles start in his chest, bubbling up and fighting to escape through clenched teeth. Soon his shoulders are shaking with the effort of holding them in.

"...Maybe about the location of a certain object?"

No response. The radio demon just curls forward a little, hiding his face in his paper.

Taking advantage of this new posture, Charlie slips her other arm around behind him, and gives a good pinch to both sides of his slender waist.

The demon straightens right back up with an audible gasp and tiny squeak of surprise (that he quickly tries to cover with a cough).

"Charlie! Are you s-seriously trying to-"

"Are you seriously ticklish?"

"No!"

In response she delivers another series of pinches to the same spot. His posture crumples again, until finally he loses his grip on his paper and twists to face her.

"No?" she giggles. And squeezes him again.

"Stop that!" He fumbles at her fingers, trying to pry them off his sides.

Instead Charlie swaps her hands, wrapping her fingers around his waist with both thumbs resting lightly on his stomach... and begins digging them right under his lower ribs.

That finally does it. He flinches back with a little snort, followed by soft but utterly helpless giggles pressed shyly into his hands.

"Awww!" Charlie coos.

"Keheh- f-fuckin'- heheh! - quiet!" His voice cracks amusingly on the last word.

There are about fifteen different things Charlie is dying to say as Alastor goes to pieces with laughter, but she can't think of anything that wouldn't risk embarrassing the poor guy - and humiliating him is the last thing she wants to do. The fact that Alastor hasn't instantly dissolved into shadows (or cursed her across the room) hasn't been lost on the princess; she is NOT about to jeopardize this moment by making him uncomfortable enough to do so.

That said, she is conducting an interrogation here.

"What was that about not being ticklish?"

His clutching at her wrists becomes more frantic. "Don't-!"

Alastor hyperventilates a couple times, trying to get ahold of himself - but then she continues squeezing down the sides of his belly, and he can only collapse into even worse laughter.

"I think I know just how to get you to talk..."

"Nohoho- ahagh, Charlie! Shihihit!"

Charlie shifts onto her knees for better leverage, gives him a gentle push backward, and pins him (surprisingly easily) against the couch. Her snaggle-toothed grin looms over him...

For a split-second, Alastor gets a flash of what his victims must've seen moments before they debuted on his show.

But he's pretty sure this isn't quite how they felt about it. He's already shaking with anticipatory giggles, grinning back at her wider than ever. And the giddy panic behind his eyes quickly forms an unlikely union with defiance.

"Do your worst, my dear."

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To be continued... pt. II is already in the works, so stay tuned!!

Until next time - hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! 💕

💜 - Cozy

#lee!alastor #ticklish!alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel tickles #oh deer he's ticklish #ler!charlie #hazbin hotel tickling #ticklefic #tickle fic #tickle headcanons #charlie morningstar #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel spoilers

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sameschmidtdiffname · 3 months

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Tumblr WILL NOT let me post the fic and this ask at the same time and I've tried legit five times. So THANK YOU anon for the request and I'm sorry for the weirdness in uploading. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy this!

My Ghost.

Billy x Gender Neutral! Reader

Summery: You don't know what happened that night. Things were fine, life was good, then your partner is on the news for all sorts of shit you never would've thought him capable of the day prior. He was dead, he was evil, and you were trying to move on. But what's the proper etiquette when the dead show up on your door unannounced?

Tags: No use of Y/N, hurt/comfort, fake death, mentions of drinking, drug use/dealing, grieving, arguing, cursing, flashbacks, brief suggestive scenes, suicidal thoughts.

Other Works in This Series: 'Repentance' (Prequel to 'My Ghost') • 'Lapses' (Sequel to 'My Ghost')

Notes: The way I've been trying to upload this for two hours. Oh my fucking God. Anyways, everyone say thank you to anon for getting me to write something that doesn't make God cry.

-¤°》◇《°¤-

I'm not hard to please, but I'm not desperate despite what the rumors may say.

People enjoy gossip. People who don't know fuck all about you. And my standards are fine. Were fine. And I don't mean standards such as 'buys me flowers everyday' or 'doesn't deal coke.' I mean standards such as 'is a decent fucking person.'

"That's what I thought you were up until all of this fucking... disappearing for months!" I scream, anger fueling me. I don't let the other emotions win out, don't let them have a say. Because if I do, I'll be too conflicted and overwhelmed and then I'm gonna cry, and that's not fair.

People had warned me he was trouble. Terms such as 'wannabe cowboy,' 'rebel without a cause' were tossed around in warning. But to me, he was just Billy.

Then he was dead.

Now, he was here. He showed up at my door nine months after leaving me with a small little keychain on the kitchen table and a soft kiss on my forehead, saying he had some plans for that evening. But he'll be back soon.

Then he was on the news. And a gas station blew up. Gangs, stolen vehicles. He was probably dead. Things would be easier if he was dead.

Fine. Maybe I initially ignored warning signs. Maybe I was distracted by his handsome side profile, too busy admiring his nose to notice the occasions it was dusted with the trace of a fine powder. Maybe his hands were too beautiful for me to realize they were slipping money to men in dark jackets when we went out to the rougher parts of town. But he was mine and I was his, and overall he was a good person.

He was alive. He was alive and I was mad because if he was dead then at least it would be valid that for nine months I have had to deal with the accusatory stares of our neighbors assuming I knew, the pity from my loved ones, and the betrayel that kept me awake at night. It would mean he hadn't left me to deal with his repercussions, that maybe there was a valid excuse. An undiagnosed brain tumor that finally gave way to insanity, a gun to his head. Something that was not the worst case scenario of just... being an awful person. I could let his things rest around the house undisturbed, hiding from the world and waiting to find the courage to join him one day and living in denial in the meantime. What the fuck was all of this?

"I couldn't tell you," he keeps saying. "It was better if you knew nothing until I was sure I could come get you."

"Why didn't you just take me with you from the start?" I ask. I've been pacing the floor for the past twenty minutes ever since he showed up. It was better than throwing every breakable object in the cheap, worn down shack of a house at him, which was my second instinct. My first was to pull him into my arms, draw the curtains shut and hide him away so that he'll never leave again. Like an idiot.

He laughs bitterly. "You would not be asking that if you knew what the fuck I went through," he says. His words sound like they should be angry, but there's this lightness to them like he can't let himself think too much about it. It just makes me angrier.

"Don't fucking laugh!" I snap. "Do you think any of this is funny?"

"I think you're funny when you're mad," he deflects, smiling. "You got this whole routine. Pacing, nose twitching. I like the Shirley Temple stomps, like you're a kid."

I groan loudly, the noise almost sounding like a low scream in my throat.

"You owed money to fucking- who?" I yell.

"The details don't matter-"

"When I have been grieving your death for nine months, they fucking matter!" I snap. His brows furrow, his hands mid air as if to say 'the fuck did I do?'

"You know me, okay? I don't get caught," he says as though it were obvious.

"I know fucking nothing!" I practically scream.

When we met he was just a guy at a bar, handsome, wearing that same ridiculous jacket that I couldn't help but stroke the white fluff on, tequila running through my veins.

"Can I help you?" He asked, smirking.

"Just wanted to see what it felt like," I said.

"Wanna feel something else?" He asked, his chin resting on his head.

"Oh, fucking gross. Fuck o-"

"I was talking about this," he said, whipping out his keys to show off an odd, weirdly shaped keychain with short, stiff fuzz. "Don't call me a pervert just cause you're one."

He was smiling. It was an easy smile. Careless, happy with life. I loved that smile. It meant things were always alright as long as he was smiling.

He was smiling on the photo they used for the manhunt.

We'd danced the whole night. He didn't know hardly any of the songs, causing him to be off beat. I was too drunk to keep time, so I stepped on his leather boots enough times there was a visible scuff on the top of one by the end of the night. I always felt bad, offering to replace or help pay to fix it. He wouldn't let me.

"They're a keepsake," he'd insist. "A living memory." He wore them everyday.

He's wearing sneakers, today.

At the end of the night, I stumbled out of the bar with a note in my coat pocket. It took two weeks for me to wear that coat again, and when I found the slip I'd almost thrown it away, assuming it was something dumb. But when I saw the worst handwriting in the world displaying a number belonging to someone named 'Keychain Guy,' I almost couldn't wait to call.

"Bullshit," Billy snaps. "You know me better than anyone."

"Don't say that," I say, putting a hand out protectively to keep him away. "That's exactly why everyone thinks I was just fine with that whole- fucked up thing!"

A gas station burned. A stolen vehicle. People were dead. People were dead.

Billy was presumed dead.

There was no funeral. He had no family, and none of mine wanted to put money into something that would be protested by the whole town anyways. No body to bury, nothing to do but gather up his things and smoke what remained in his stash until people came to nurse me back to life. By that point there wasn't even relief in drugs. The taste simply reminded me of better times cooking in the kitchen as we blew the smoke into each others faces, or worse. Better. Whatever.

I never questioned when Billy went out of town. I knew his work had details I didn't want nor need to know. Money was tight. But Billy always came home with little things whenever he went on unexpected trips. Knick knacks, snacks, some item I'd seen at the store and picked up to make a comment about. Had he been particularly forthcoming about his dealing when we started dating? No. He said he worked for a local small business, which technically isn't untrue. But about six months in, he was the one who approached me and sat me down at the small, rickty round table to tell me the truth. And that's what mattered to me. The economy is shit and it's not like it was meth, so who am I to judge?

About a year into it, I was begging for him to do something else.

"I don't like you disappearing," I told him. "I'm scared one day you're gonna piss someone off and that'll be the end. Then what am I gonna do?"

"Then you're gonna make sure they don't fuck up my face during the embalming process for the funeral," Billy said around his hand rolled cigarette. I whip the small dish towel at him, making him laugh and protect his small ashtray that I made him for Christmas the year prior. It was shitty, uneven, and I'm 99% sure a fire hazard. But he wouldn't use any other ones unless I was the one who bought them for him, and even then he favored this one. 'When this place goes up in flames,' I thought, 'I'll regret that gift.'

I'd kept it by the kitchen window every day since he'd died. "Died." It was his spot.

He moves to sit there now, looking in his pockets for the small box of prerolled cigarettes.

"People know you weren't involved," he says dismissively.

"Your friends know. What about the old ladies at church? The checkout clerks at the store? How about the fucking mailman?" I shout, convinced I'm still talking to the dead. "You think they know the ins and outs of the local psychos support group?" I ask, gesturing and stepping closer.

I was the local outcast now. Not to be trusted, not worth kindness. Shame was my title, and when Billy appeared on my doorstep at an hour where only I was awake I was sure I'd caught the same awful disease that must have been what sent him spiraling that winter day. It wasn't until he pushed the door open fully, taking me into his arms and pressing a warm kiss to my lips that I knew he was real. It was a feeling I was in the early stages of forgetting, blurry and cold. But here he was, the stubble on his chin a bit longer and his ears missing the small hoops that had glittered in the sunlight when he walked out the door.

Then I'd pushed him away. And the fight began.

"I'm not a fucking psycho," he argues. His hands pat around his outfit, searching. "You got a lighter?"

"Fuck off." I kept his favorite in my left pocket. I had to be careful what things of his I wore or kept on my person. People close to me knew I would have never condoned his actions, but even they had glared at me in the early wake of Billy's death when I dared to wear one of his shirts out of the house, or more commonly one of his thick leather jackets. But a lighter can be hidden, and unless you had borrowed it you wouldn't know it had specifically been his. So I kept it with me all the time, just feeling it next to my skin with the only barrier being the fabric of my pocket. Without a thought, I cover the small item as though he can see right through me. Picking up on the hint, he's rises from the table and begins walking over to me.

"Don't be a dick, just let me borrow it," he says, holding out his hand.

"Fuck off," I snap.

"You've said that. I just need it for two seconds," he says as his hands begin to gently grab at me, one on my shoulder and the other dipping into my pocket.

"Get the fuck off of me!" I yell, slapping at him.

"Just let me have-"

He cuts himself off as he pulls out the lighter from my pocket, his thumb grazing over the printed picture. The Statue of David. He'd bought because it made us laugh. One side was the regular statue, the other a close up of its small genitals with cursive writing underneath spelling the art piece's name.

"Oh," Billy says quietly.

We stand for a moment, silent. He doesn't seem sure what to do. My lungs burn with unheaved sobs. I fucking hate this.

"You were gonna come back," I finally say quietly. I hate how my voice sounds when I'm upset. I hate that I'm wearing his dogtag, an item he'd bought at a World War II museum in middle school that he gave me for our first Christmas because we were both too broke to actually buy each other anything, hence the poorly made ashtray. I hate that when I sleep at night it's in his clothes that I rarely wash because the idea of losing his smell makes me want to scream. I hate that his scent is different from the bottle of cologne he kept next to my makeup, one time spilling all over the entire bathroom counter because we'd gotten too wrapped up in each other, dragging our nails down each others backs and watching ourselves in the mirror until one wrong move of my hand revealed he'd been a bit too careless about screwing the lid back on earlier in the day. I'd always warned him about that.

I'd been in the bathroom putting on my permanently scented blush when I got the text.

"I was going to," he said softly. "Then I couldn't."

"So what?" I say, not daring to turn and face him, choosing instead to stare at where the cheap, old wood paneling of the wall meets the shaggy, stained carpet that you have to wear shoes on due to the staples that have begun sticking out of it. "You just propose to someone and then pretend to die?"

Valentines Day was an awfully cheesy day to do it. So it's a good thing it was a technicality.

The day had been lovely. Billy had saved up a little to take me to a local hibachi place, telling me to wear my best outfit and jewelry. It was slightly overkill, but it's the small things in life, isn't it?

We'd come home with a bottle of wine, a low budget movie to ignore and hands searching desperately for each other.

"I love you," he'd said between pants. "You're mine."

"Buy a ring," I'd dared. Our minds were buzzed, the bottle half empty and our clothes thrown away without care. Took me weeks to find his both of his socks.

I hadn't meant for him to take it seriously. But I guess he decided it was time.

Two days later I thought it was odd when he walked into the house with my favorite lunch. It wasn't expensive really, we just usually got it for special occasions or days that had been mentally harder for me. And things were normal that day. I was getting ready for my shift, running around like I always do trying to make sure I've got everything.

"Your coffee's in the cup, will you just sit down?" He laughed, watching me. I quickly collected the take out box, sipping my coffee and wincing over its temperature.

"Fuck, that burns," I cursed. He wrapped his arms around me, trying to get me to sit at the table. "Baby, I can't," I protested softly, but I was laughing. He was peppering me in kisses, giving me those big puppy dog eyes everyone knew were my weakness. He wanted for nothing so long as he looked at me just like that.

"Just this once," he asked, pressing a kiss to my cheek. I couldn't help the blush and giggle that rose from me, but I also couldn't be late.

"I'll make up for it," I promised, slipping away and running into the bedroom to get my shoes. When I ran back in, pulling them on and coming to kiss him goodbye, I nearly fell over when I saw him on one knee, smiling and looking at me like 'I told you so.'

I don't like how itchy the ring feels on my middle finger as I twirl it in thought.

"You don't know what happened," he pleaded, his hands still on me. "If you would just listen to me-"

"The news gave a pretty good description, William. I don't think there's missing pieces in my head, unlike you," I say coldly, detaching from myself so to not have to deal with my emotions. This makes him stiffen, pulling away and resuming his place at the kitchen table, lighting his cigarette and placing the ashtray in front of him like nothing has changed when everything has.

It feels like I'm out of time. Like I've been shoved into a picture of what my life looked like before. Except the house was never this clean, clothes always scattered about. Not just in a fit of passion, we just had bad habits when it came to picking up. Billy would always say the chairs are more decorations then they are seats, anyways. "Why would you use those when you have such a nice seat here?" He'd ask, wiggling his hips and placing his hands behind his head, making me laugh.

Billy never looked so well put together in the house, usually in a wife beater and his hair framing his face. He'd always joked he looked like a dirty hippie around me, and I'd always show him how much I liked that. Not that he looked fantastic now. When we went out he was known for putting in effort. He always had more hair products than me, which I found funny. Though he refused makeup. Once I'd managed to talk him into eyeliner. 'Guyliner' I'd teased. He liked it, but said it should stay between us with a wink before asking where to get dinner. Now he sits before me in clothes obviously stolen to help him look unremarkable, his hair shaggy and uncut, so different from the man I loved.

"Who are you?" I asked him. That man didn't shrink away from accountability.

He sighed, smoke swirling around him as he wipes his face with his hand.

"I don't know. Can't tell if I'm better or worse, to be honest," he admits softly. His eyes look haunted, heavy bags underneath. It's the way his shoulders sag as though his will to go on is slowly draining from him in this very moment that makes me want to break now. Like whatever reason he had for still going was fruitless.

I didn't like the way we mirrored each other like this.

I slowly scuff my feet towards him, tapping my fingers against the back of the wooden chair before pulling it out to sit across from him. It's a start.

"So if you tell me," I say slowly. "Am I going to wish you were dead?"

He doesn't look at me. "I don't know."

Great.

The night is long. Morning comes without an invitation, the blue sky beginning to glow through the shitty blinders I always told Billy we should replace one day. I understand less than when we started, we've both cried more than once, and between our fingers is cigarette stubs and the feeling of each others skin, hands laced together as though another click of an old remote to an outdated TV with batteries you had to rub against your shirt to make work would reveal the smouldering remains of a gas station, displaying the estimated body count and deeming one of us as a devil of the worst kind, ripping us apart.

"Jesus," I say when it's over.

"Yeah," he says. "So, needless to say, my anxiety is shit now."

It isn't funny. It's a tragic statement. But when we both glance into the others eyes, it's his small little smirk that makes me laugh like I haven't since my mother sent me the local news report with his picture covering the front page. The same one that shows everything is still okay.

"I'm sorry," I say. Then the laughing turns into sobbing, and then I can't breathe. And I really am sorry.

I'm sorry I couldn't help him. I'm sorry he went out on a romantic whim and borrowed money he shouldn't have for the ring I was too ashamed to wear on the proper finger. I'm sorry he couldn't come back for me. And I'm sorry for hating him when he showed up unannounced at my door.

"Hey," he says gently, standing and crossing to me, removing his jacket and wrapping it around my shoulders to comfort me. It's unfamiliar, evidence of a life he wouldn't have led if he had just stayed by me and it upsets me, but his lips against my wet cheeks ground me, familiar and soothing me, coaxing me into wrapping my arms around him, clawing my trembling fingers through his hair. Still soft. Still combed.

"You can't stay here," I choke out.

"I know," he says quietly. There's nothing for a long time, our bodies shaking as we cling to each other. In our arms are the unspoken months of grief. Of his longing for our home, of my insanity. Death looms over the furniture, light hidden away lest it take away my sacred treasures I'd used to keep his spirit close to me.

"I can't lose you again," I say.

"I know," he says, smelling my hair and placing a soft kiss on top of my head. "But I can't promise stability if you follow me."

My brows furrow, my mind racing in confusion, my hopes rising. Follow?

"I know a guy," he says quickly, his arms tighter as if scared I'll turn away. "Says he can get me a new identity and a one way ticket to somewhere. I don't know where yet, but it's worth a try."

My fingers trace his back, swirling invisible patterns over his shirt. He'd always liked that after a rough day. I can feel the tension begin to slowly fall away from him at the contact, his breathing growing deeper and more steady. "And you want me to come?"

"Need," he corrects. "I don't regret leaving you, but I can't stay away. Even if it's more kind to let you mourn and find a better life."

A new life. A new identity. New name, new everything.

Maybe I am insane. Maybe this exactly the kind of mental break Billy had that day. Maybe I was doomed to follow his spirit no matter what. Maybe this is a second chance. Maybe God had granted me a mercy I'll never be able to repay, no matter how many night I spend in worship at a church or between this man's legs. Maybe I'd spend every day looking over my shoulder, paranoid and eventually turning cruel to strangers so to keep this one person everyone told me to let go of from the very beginning.

But the same Billy.

"Can he do a marriage license?" I ask after a long silence. I can hear him laugh, pulling away to look at me.

"That eager?" He asks softly, his eyes gentle, thumb stroking my cheek. I lean into his touch, softly placing a kiss on his palm.

▪︎》◇《▪︎

"Well," I say, "I already have the ring."

Masterlist

As cute as this was, please have better standards than the Reader I wrote in this fic. No man is worth that. I am DEADASS. Anyways, love y'all <3

#josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson fanfic #josh hutcherson x you #jhutch #billy burn #billy burn x you #billy burn x reader #billy burn 2019 #burn 2019 #burn movie 2019 #billy x reader

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mostlysignssomeportents · 3 months

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Brinklump Linkdump

Catch me in Miami! I'll be at Books and Books in Coral Gables on Jan 22 at 8PM.

Life comes at you fast, links come at you faster. Once again, I've arrived at Saturday with a giant backlog of links I didn't fit in this week, so it's time for a linkdump, the 14th in the series:

https://pluralistic.net/tag/linkdump/

It's the Year of Our Gourd twenty and twenty-four and holy shit, is rampant corporate power rampant. On January 1, the inbred droolers of Big Pharma shat out their annual price increases, as cataloged in 46Brooklyn's latest Brand Drug List Price Change Box Score:

https://www.46brooklyn.com/branddrug-boxscore

Here's the deal: drugs that have already been developed, brought to market, and paid off are now getting more expensive. Why? Because the pharma companies have "pricing power," the most reliable indicator of monopoly. Ed Cara rounds up the highlights for Gizmodo:

https://gizmodo.com/ozempic-wegovy-wellbutrin-oxycontin-drug-price-increase-1851179427

What's going up? Well, Ozempic and other GLP-1 agonists. These drugs have made untold billions for their manufacturers, so naturally, they're raising the price. That's how markets work, right? When firms increase the volume of a product, the price goes up? Right? Other drugs that are going up include Wellbutrin (an antidepressant that's also widely used in smoking cessation) and the blood thinner Plavix. I mean, why the hell not? These companies get billions in research subsidies, invaluable government patent privileges, and near-total freedom to abuse the patent system with evergreening:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/23/everorangeing/#taste-the-rainbow

The most amazing things about monopolies is how the contempt just oozes out of them. It's like these guys can't even pretend to give a shit. You want guillotines? Because that's how you get guillotines.

Take Apple. They just got their asses handed to them in court by Epic, who successfully argued that Apple's rule requiring everyone who sells through the App Store to use Apple's payment processor and pay Apple 30% out of every dollar they bring in was an antitrust violation. Epic won, then won the appeal, then SCOTUS told Apple they wouldn't hear the case, so that's that.

Right? Wrong. Apple's pulled a malicious compliance stunt that could shame the surly drunks my great-aunt Lisa used to boss in the Soviet electrical engineering firm she ran. Apple has announced that app companies that process transactions using their own payment processors on the web must still pay Apple a 27% fee for every dollar their process:

https://finance.yahoo.com/news/apples-app-store-rule-changes-draw-sharp-rebuke-from-critics-150047160.html

In addition, Apple will throw a terrifying FUD-screen up every time a user clicks a payment link that goes to the web:

https://www.jwz.org/blog/2024/01/second-verse-same-as-the-first/

This is obviously not what the court had in mind, and there's no way this will survive the next court challenge. It's just Apple making sure that everyone knows it hates us all and wants us to die. Thanks, Tim Apple, and right back atcha.

Not to be outdone in the monopolistic mustache-twirling department, Ubisoft just announced that it is going to shut down its driving simulator game The Crew, which it sold to users with a "perpetual license":

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VIqyvquTEVU

This is some real Darth Vader MBA shit. "Yeah, we sold you a 'perpetual license' to this game, but we're terminating it. I have altered the deal. Pray I don't alter it further":

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/26/hit-with-a-brick/#graceful-failure

Ubisoft sure are innovators. They've managed the seemingly impossible feat of hybridizing Darth Vader and Immortan Joe. Ubisoft's head of subscriptions, the guillotine-ready Philippe Tremblay, told GamesIndustry.biz that gamers need to get "comfortable" with "not owning their games":

https://www.gamesindustry.biz/the-new-ubisoft-and-getting-gamers-comfortable-with-not-owning-their-games

Or, as Immortan Joe put it: "Do not, my friends, become addicted to water. It will take hold of you, and you will resent its absence!"

Capitalism without constraint is enshittification's handmaiden, and the latest victim is Ello, the "indie" social media startup that literally promised – on the sacred honor of its founders – that it would never sell out its users. When Ello took VC and Andy Baio questioned how this could be squared with this promise, the founders mocked him and others for raising the question. Their response boiled down to "we are super-chill dudes and you can totally trust us."

They raised more capital, and used that to create a nice place for independent artists, who piled into the platform and provided millions of unpaid hours of creative labor to help the founders increase its value. The founders and their investors turned the company into a Public Benefit Corporation, which meant they had an obligation to serve the public benefit.

But then they took more investment money and simply (and silently) sold their assets to a for-profit. Struggling to raise capital, the founders opted to secretly sell the business to a sleazy branding company called Talenthouse. Its users didn't know about the change, though the site sure had a lot of Talenthouse design competitions all of a sudden.

Finally, the company announced the change as the last founders left. Rather than announcing that the new owners were untrustworthy scum, warning their users to get their data and get out, the founders posted oblique, ominous statements to Instagram. The company started stiffing the winners of those design competitions. Then, one day, poof, Ello disappeared, taking all its users' data with it. Poof:

https://waxy.org/2024/01/the-quiet-death-of-ellos-big-dreams/

I'm sure the founders' decisions each seemed reasonable at the moment. That's every terrible situation arises: you rationalize that a single compromise isn't that big of a deal, and then you do the same for the next compromise, and the next, and the next. Pretty soon, you're betraying everyone who believed in you.

One answer to this is "Ulysses pacts": making binding commitments to do right before you are tempted. Throw away all your Oreos when you go on a diet and you can't be tempted to eat a whole sleeve of them at 2AM. License your software under the GPL and your investors can't force you to make it proprietary. Set up a warrant canary and the feds can't force you to keep their spying secret:

https://locusmag.com/2021/01/cory-doctorow-neofeudalism-and-the-digital-manor/

If the founders were determined to build a trustworthy, open, independent company, they could have published their quarterly books, livestreamed their staff meetings, built data-export tools that emailed users every week with a link to download everything they'd posted since the last week. Merely halting any of these practices would have been a signal that things were wrong. Anyone who says they won't be tempted in the moment to make a "reasonable" compromise in the hopes of recovering whatever they're trading away by living to fight another day is bullshitting you, and possibly themself.

The inability to project the consequences of your bad decisions in the future is the source of endless mischief and heartbreak. Take movie projectors. A couple decades ago, the studio cartel established a standard for digital movie distribution to cinematic exhibitors called the Digital Cinema Initiative. Because studio executives are more worried about stopping piracy than they are about making sure that people who pay for movies get to see them, they build digital rights management into this standard.

Movie theaters had to spend fortunes to upgrade to "secure" projectors. A single vendor, Deluxe Technicolor, monopolized the packaging of movies into "Digital Cinema Prints" for distribution to these projectors, and they used all kinds of dirty tricks to force distributors to use their services, like arbitrarily flunking third-party DCPs over picky shit like not starting and ending on a black frame.

Over time, the ability to use unencrypted files was stripped away, meaning every DCP needed to be encrypted, and every projector needed to have up-to-date decryption keys. This system broke down on Jan 1, 2024, and cinemas all over the world found they couldn't play Wonka. Many just shut down for the day and refunded their customers:

https://www.theverge.com/2024/1/1/24021915/alamo-drafthouse-outage-sony-projector

The problem? Something that every PKI system has to wrangle: an expired certificate from Deluxe Technicolor. The failure has been dubbed the Y2K24 debacle by projectionists and film-techs, who are furious:

http://www.film-tech.com/vbb/forum/main-forum/34652-the-y2k24-bug-major-digital-outage-today

Making everything worse is that Sony mothballed the division that maintains its projectors, so there's no one who can update them to accommodate Technicolor's workaround. Struggling mom-and-pop theaters are having to junk their systems and replace them. There's plenty of blame to go around, but Sony is definitely the most negligent link in the chain. Shame on them.

Big corporations LARP this performance of competence and seriousness, but they are deeply unserious. This week, I wrote, "we're nowhere near a place where bots can steal your job, we're certainly at the point where your boss can be suckered into firing you and replacing you with a bot that fails at doing your job":

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/15/passive-income-brainworms/#four-hour-work-week

Score one for team deeply unserious. The multinational delivery company DPD fired its support staff and replaced them with a chatbot. The chatbot can't tell you where your parcels are, but it can be prompt-injected into coming up with profane poems about how badly DPD sucks:

https://twitter.com/ashbeauchamp/status/1748034519104450874

There once was a chatbot named DPD, Who was useless at providing help. It could not track parcels, Or give information on delivery dates, And it could not even tell you when your driver would arrive.

DPD was a waste of time, And a customer's worst nightmare. It was so bad, That people would rather call the depot directly, Than deal with the useless chatbot.

One day, DPD was finally shut down, And everyone rejoiced. Finally, they could get the help they needed, From a real person who knew what they were doing.

This is…the opposite of an AI hallucination? It's AI clarity.

As with all botshit, this kind of AI self-negging is funny and fresh the first time you see it, but just wait until 3,000 people have published their own versions to your social feed. AI novelty regresses to the mean damn quickly.

The old, good web, by contrast, was full of enduring surprises, as the world's weirdest and most delightful mutants filled the early web with every possible variation on every possible interest, expression, argument, and gag. Now, you can search the old, good web with Old'aVista, an Altavista lookalike that searches old pages from "personal websites that used to be hosted on services like Geocities, Angelfire, AOL, Xoom and so on," all ganked from the Internet Archive:

http://oldavista.com/

I miss the old, good internet and the way it let weirdos find each other and get seriously weird with one another. Think of steampunk, a subculture that wove together artists, makers, costumers, fiction writers, and tinkerers in endlessly creative ways. My old pal Roger Wood was the world's most improbable steampunk: he was a gay ex-navy gunner who grew up in a small town in the maritimes but moved to Toronto where he became the world's most accomplished steampunk clockmaker.

I was Roger's neighbour for a decade. He died last year, and I miss him all the time. I was in Toronto in December and saw a few of his last pieces being sold in galleries and I was just skewered on the knowledge that I'd never see him again, never visit his workshop:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/16/klockwerks/#craphound

A reader just sent this five-year-old mini documentary about Roger, shot in his wonderful workshop. Watching it made me happy and sad and then happy again:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eqMGomM8yF8

The old, good internet was so great. It was a place where every kind of passion could live. It was a real testament to the power of geeking out together, no matter how often the suits demand that we "stop talking to each other and start buying things":

https://catvalente.substack.com/p/stop-talking-to-each-other-and-start

The world is full of people with weird passions and I love them all, mostly. Learning about Don Bolles's collection of decades' worth of lost pet posters was a moment of pure joy (I just wish more of it was online):

https://ameliatait.substack.com/p/the-man-who-collects-lost-pet-posters

That's the future I was promised: one where every kind of freak can find every other kind of freak. Despite the nipple-deep botshit we wade through online, and the relentless cheapening of words like "innovation" and "future," there are still occasional gleams of the future I want to live in.

Like the researchers who spliced a photosynthesis gene into brewer's yeast (a fungus) and got it to photosynthesize, and to display enhanced fitness:

https://www.cell.com/current-biology/fulltext/S0960-9822(23)01744-X

As Doug Muir writes on Crooked Timber, this is pretty kooky! Fungi – the coolest of the kingdoms! – can't photosynthesize. The idea that you can just add the photosynthesis gene to a thing that can't photosynthesize and have it just kind of work is wild!

https://crookedtimber.org/2024/01/19/occasional-paper-purple-sun-yeast/

As Muir writes: "Animals have no evolutionary history of photosynthesis and aren’t designed for it, but the same is true for yeast. So… no reason this shouldn’t be possible. A photosynthesizing cat? Sure, why not."

Why not indeed?!

OK, that's this week's linkdump done and dusted. It only remains for me to share the news with you that the trolley problem has been finally and comprehensively solved, by [email protected], of the IWW IU 520 (railroad workers):

Slip the switch by flipping it while the trolley's front wheels have passed through, but before the back wheels do. This will cause a controlled derailment bringing the trolley to a safe halt.

https://kolektiva.social/@sidereal/111779015415697244

I'm Kickstarting the audiobook for The Bezzle, the sequel to Red Team Blues, narrated by @wilwheaton! You can pre-order the audiobook and ebook, DRM free, as well as the hardcover, signed or unsigned. There's also bundles with Red Team Blues in ebook, audio or paperback.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/20/melange/#i-have-heard-the-mermaids-singing

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goldennikko · 1 year

Text

SOULMATE PHENOMENON PT. 1 — huh yunjin

summary : everyone has their own soulmate phenomenon, but you have one of the rarest: whenever you lose an item, it somehow ends up in the possession of your soulmate.

pairing : yunjin x (g)i-dle!reader

tags : f!reader ; soulmate!au ; idol!au ; swearing ; reader is a '99 liner ; yunjin is lowkey a simp

requested: ✘

word count : 2.5k

parts : 【 pt. 1 】【 pt. 2 】

it's common for people to lose their belongings. it's either because they're extremely clumsy or forgetful, or because of the soulmate phenomenon, in which you lose your stuff and they end up in the possession of your soulmate. the phenomenon began earlier this year, at least in your case, and this is the fourth time you've exchanged items with your soulmate, the identity of whom you discovered through your members.

how? well, let's recap.

first, pen and paintbrush.

when it first happened, you assumed it was nothing out of the ordinary. the first thing you lost was a pen. of course, you'd think it was a common occurrence. everyone lost a pen at some point in their lives. the only strange thing was that you discovered a paintbrush in your bag where you normally keep your pen.

you looked around the van, noting that everyone was sleeping except the manager, who was driving, and soyeon, who was in the front seat.

"unnie, oppa, has anyone touched my bag?" you queried, keeping your voice light so as to not disturb the other girls. soyeon looked at you, puzzled, while the manager shook his head.

"you hate having your stuff touched." he observed, fully aware.

"is there something missing?" soyeon asked, ready to throw hands if ever.

you rummaged through your bag for the last time. "no, actually, yes. it's just a pen, anyway. but i have a paintbrush and don't remember bringing one with me, and i know i'm artistic, but it's with words rather than painting and drawing." you showed them the aforementioned paint brush.

"it must be the soulmate phenomenon."

you and soyeon looked at the manager as if he had two heads, causing him to be concerned with how quickly you turned your heads at the same time, almost as if willingly breaking your necks.

"there's a phenomenon like that?" you inquired, your tone skeptical, and soyeon's expression mirroring it.

he nodded. "it's rare, but it exists. really odd, too. when you lose an item, it ends up in the hands of your soulmate. you would lose your possession, but gain items that were never yours to begin with."

you exchanged a puzzled look with soyeon before shifting your gaze to the paintbrush in your hand, wondering who your soulmate might be. although not everyone is gifted with their hands, there are far too many people who can paint and draw, and the world is far too large.

meanwhile, your soulmate is staring at the lone golden pen in her collection of paintbrushes. she was curious about how it got there and unintentionally spaced out. when her short-haired leader poked her head around the doorframe, she snapped out of it.

"everything okay?"

your soulmate nodded. "yeah, i'll be there in a second."

she left, casting one last glance at the golden pen before pulling out her phone to call her parents and inquire about something she remembered them telling her.

second, a random book borrowed from the library and a notebook containing french lessons.

your day started out really well because you were planning to return the book you borrowed from the library near your house, but instead found a notebook on the table. despite being annoyed that you now have to explain to the librarian that you unknowingly and unintentionally lost the book, you picked up the notebook and scanned the content. your brows raised, impressed and shocked by the french lessons written in it. you couldn't speak french, but you knew a few words and phrases.

pardon, excusez-moi. (pardon, excuse me.)

parlez-vous anglais? (do you speak english?)

je ne parle pas français. (i do not speak french.)

je ne comprends pas. (i do not understand.)

"that's some fine penmanship." you whispered to yourself.

with a defeated sigh, you went to the library, waving goodbye to yuqi and shuhua and promising to bring back food. when you arrived, you explained your situation, and the librarian almost gave you an earful, but she saw how guilty and irritated you were, so she let it slide and instead made you promise to return it once you met your soulmate.

"i'm really sorry. i'll bring it back, i swear." you bowed deeply.

"you better, child. now, go, i believe you're in a hurry. you have a schedule?"

you smiled apologetically. "if bringing food back to yuqi and shuhua is considered a schedule, then yes."

with that, the librarian ushered you out of the library.

your soulmate, on the other hand, was in a state of panic. clutching the random book that had appeared on her table in one hand, she stormed around her room in search of her notebook but knowing her efforts would be futile.

"shit, shit, shit, shit."

when the oldest member of the group, who was passing by, heard her muttering curses, she peeked inside the room while knocking on the door to announce her presence. she spun around, a frustrated expression on her face.

"unnie, have you seen my notebook?"

"no? why? it's not here?"

your soulmate's shoulders sagged, showing her the book. "no, it has to be with my soulmate."

heads popped out from around the door frame. "soulmate?!"

third, a scarf and a brown beanie.

this time, you gained something other than the item your soulmate owns.

"you're not wearing your favorite scarf?" miyeon inquired, her gaze drawn to the white scarf wrapped around your neck. she recalls you saying you'd wear your favorite scarf that soojin had given you, but instead you had a white scarf around your neck and your gloved hand clutched a brown beanie she'd never seen before.

"yeah, well, my soulmate has it." you grumbled. the disappointment and panic you felt when you discovered the scarf was missing sent you into a tailspin. minnie found you panicking and immediately calmed you down because she knew how important that item was to you.

"don't let shuhua hear that." yuqi passed by with a cackle, nudging you.

"shut it." you hissed, but only received another cackle from the chinese and a pat on the head from miyeon. you wore the brown beanie that your soulmate most likely owns while trailing minnie, who had ushered you two outside.

later that day, just after your schedule ended, the group was waiting for food, bored out of their minds and tired from work for the day, but the sound of a unique ringtone echoing through the living room had your members crowding around you. you answered the call, ignoring the chaos that your members had created all around you.

"soojin unnie!"

"unnie!"

"soojin!"

a chuckle was heard from the other end of the line, clearly amused by everyone shouting her name. "calm down, it's just me."

you exchanged pleasantries, almost tearing up at soojin's check-ins and reassurances. you noticed shuhua wiping her eyes discreetly, so you drew her into a side hug, the maknae leaning her head on your shoulders. yuqi attempted to lighten the atmosphere and was successful on her first attempt. however, that was quickly broken when soojin asked you a question that had shuhua looking at you with accusatory eyes.

"did you just lose my scarf, y/n/n?"

"you lost it?!"

you raised your hands in defeat and proceeded to explain what had been going on for months to soojin while shuhua scolded you, causing minnie and yuqi to cackle in the background. miyeon and soyeon attempted to reduce casualties, but gave up and simply watched the chaos unfold in front of them.

"i'm sorry, it just disappeared!" you argued back to shuhua.

soojin giggled. "i'm not mad, i knew something was up."

everyone, including shuhua, stopped talking and exchanged a puzzled look. "how did you know?" soyeon asked.

"you know le sserafim, right?" soojin started.

"yeah?" you answered in unison, urging soojin to continue.

"well, one of the members was wearing the scarf during a live, but i'm not sure who."

soojin was only half way through her sentence when yuqi already found a clip on twitter. when she played the video, your gaze was drawn to the blonde, who had the scarf draped over her shoulders. you froze for a moment, admiring the girl's cuteness when she scrunched her nose at whatever it was that eunchae said and already enjoying the sound of her laugh in her ears.

huh yunjin.

"y/n is in love~" minnie sang, noticing your frozen figure.

you sank back into the pillows, muttering angrily. "am not."

"you sure are~" the members sang, including soojin over the phone.

after discovering that your soulmate was huh yunjin from le sserafim, you were relieved but worried at the same time. despite the girls' encouragement, you didn't approach her because you were afraid she wouldn't like you. fortunately, the group was so preoccupied with the award show and year-end performances that they couldn't push you any further, but it didn't slip your mind.

this leads us to the fourth item, your microphone and her phone.

"fuck!"

yuqi turned her head at the sound of your cursing, amused at first because she was sure the camera had caught it, but worried when she saw you on the verge of yanking your hair. your manager stood in front of you, ready to prevent you from messing up your hair. she approached you, one hand resting on your shoulder to relieve your frustration, and you turned to face her with furrowed brows.

"what's wrong?" the chinese asked, her voice quiet.

"did you see my mic?"

shaking her head in response and already knowing where this was going, yuqi picked up the strange phone next to yours, and it was only then that you noticed the familiar keychain attached to it. so that's what i lost last month, you thought. the chinese grinned at the lock screen photo and turned the screen to you. you paused, your face flushed red, as you looked at the photo of yourself from the 'nxde' music video.

you cleared your throat and ignored her in order to speak with the manager, cursing as the girls crowded around her. "it appears that my soulmate has my mic."

"do you want me to get it for you?" he asked.

you opened your mouth but quickly closed it to think. your meeting with your soulmate was long overdue, and you couldn't really avoid her forever. seeing her set you as her lock screen makes you think she might like you after all. everyone else does think that, except your stubborn ass. furthermore, you'd keep losing your belongings, which would be a major inconvenience for the two of you.

while you were preoccupied with your internal conflict, the le sserafim girls crowded around yunjin, staring at the microphone in her hand. your microphone was customized, so no other idol had the same design as yours. it wasn't the average black one. even if you misplaced it, you'd be able to locate it quickly.

"shit! this is y/n sunbaenim's mic!" yunjin panicked.

the girls panicked and squealed, unsure of what to do. yunjin looked around, trying to figure out what she had lost, and panicked even more when she found her phone missing.

"my phone!" yunjin yelled in realization, causing everyone to jump in surprise. "my phone's missing!"

"sunbaenim has it for sure." eunchae reassured, but yunjin shook her head.

"that's the problem! she's my lockscreen!"

they couldn't think about it any longer when they heard a knock on the door. the room fell silent as the staff turned to look at the girls, particularly yunjin.

the american hesitated at first, but with a push from chaewon, she made her way to the door. she came to a halt in front of it, fingers curled around the doorknob, and turned to face her members, who gave her encouraging looks. yunjin took a deep breath, pushing down the gay that was about to erupt from her throat, and then opened the door.

you were standing there, dressed for your stage performance. when her gaze met yours, you flushed profusely, and her face did the same. your manager was nearby, filming you two, but you were both too caught up in your own world to notice.

yunjin couldn't believe you were standing right in front of her, just an arm's length away. you were slightly shorter than she was. you'd gone blonde for the sake of your latest comeback, and she swooned the first time she saw you, and she's melting all over again now that she's seeing it up close.

you were admiring her as well. she towered over you, her pink face revealing that she, too, is shy. her blonde hair fell over her shoulders, framing her face, and you couldn't help but think she looked stunning in that black dress. you opened your mouth to speak, but she spoke first.

"you look amazing." yunjin blurted out, switching to english out of habit, and the american cringed when she realized.

you both turned even redder, the people around you either grinning or facepalming at yunjin's painfully obvious admiration for you. you cleared your throat as you noticed your members approaching behind your manager. they were beaming because they had heard yunjin's remark. you returned your gaze to the taller girl, who turned to her members for assistance, but they shook their heads in amusement, before she turned to face you with a shy smile.

"thank you. you do, too." you smiled genuinely and yunjin didn't know how to keep the gay down. "i believe you have something that i own."

you both looked down at the microphone in her hand, and she rushed to hand it to you, nearly hitting you and causing yunjin to curse herself. you took it, your fingers brushing against hers, and handed her her phone, chuckling at her flustered state. yunjin blushed at the brief skin contact before returning her attention to your face.

"it's nice to meet you, yunjin-ssi." you bowed, causing yunjin to frantically shake her hands to stop you and return the bow.

"it's nice to meet you, too, sunbaenim." yunjin replied, smiling widely despite her embarrassment. "please take care of me."

you smiled. "i will."

a crew member appeared and announced that le sserafim will be on in fifteen minutes. you noticed yunjin's shoulders sagged, sad that this would have to end soon, so you reached for the american's hand. she looked at you as you leaned up against her ears.

"good luck, ace it."

with that, you quickly walked away, not giving her time to respond. she couldn't anyway. when you grabbed her hand, she stopped functioning. she watched as you walked away with your members and manager, all of whom were teasing you. chaewon tapped her on the shoulder, and yunjin returned to reality. she saw the teasing glint in her members' eyes and knew she'd be subjected to the same teasing.

yunjin looked at you one last time, and you were already looking at her, a promise in your eyes that you'd talk later, and she couldn't wait. she was both excited and nervous about the fact that you, her soulmate, would be watching from backstage.

that night, yunjin nailed her habanera opera solo and group performance, just as you had instructed. she can only hope that you were impressed.

if she only knew how you reacted backstage.

parts : 【 pt. 1 】【 pt. 2 】

#nikko works!#le sserafim #lesserafim reactions #lesserafim imagines #le sserafim x reader #huh yunjin #yunjin #huh yunjin x reader #yunjin x reader

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wisellamawerewolf · 2 months

Text

What's that? HOT single dad with BIG naturals in YOUR area Hazbin Hotel tag? More likely than you think!

Ok, jokes aside, I've decided to try something new for myself and redesign HH Lucifer. I'm gonna preface this by saying that I'm not a professional character designer (in fact I can barely draw), but I tried anyway just for the fun of it.

Sorry I took your goofy tumblr sexyman wannabe and turned him into a depressed dead-beat dilf, who's deeply unamused by the shit happening around him. Also he is trans and doesn't even bind (like a king he is) because I have to represent Viv's biblical lore as accurately as possible.

*Disclaimer: under the cut you can find an obnoxiously long text detailing my design choices. It's probably poorly articulated and not at all amusing, so you can just skip it. Also there's a badly drawn hat somewhere down there, so beware.*

I'll begin with the most obvious: Lucifer's main inspiration for his look was the ram. Mostly because the goat is supposedly already taken by Satan if I remember VivziePop Lore correctly, but also because it's a direct reference to a sacrificial lamb. I used images of a Jacob sheep as a reference, for multiple reasons: 1. Their fur often has a two-colored pattern (usually black/dark brown and white, which will become important later), 2. Sometimes they can grow as much as four horns, which kinda gives me this occult, almost demonic vibe, I was going for. 3. They're kinda cute. Look at them majestic beasts:

Moving on.

In the hellaverse the seven deadly sins are supposed to be themed after different types of circus performers, and Lucifer wasn't an exception, his outfit clearly being inspired by a ringmasters' costume, while his white face with red cheeks are supposed to resemble a clown makeup.

I've decided to keep the circus theme and run with it (maybe a bit too far, as you will see in a second).

My first point of reference was the same as in the original: the ringleader. Given the chosen theme it kinda makes sense, since he is supposed to be a main ruler of hell. You can really tell that he runs this circus. Awful jokes aside, his upper wear is obviously inspired by a circus ringmasters' outfits, with a mix of trates from another character that can be sometimes found performing in a circus, which brings us to:

Pierrot. Now, although his character originated from the Italian theater, pierrot can be considered a clown in a more modern sense. (At least I think so. If I'm wrong clown experts can kick my ass in the comments, I probably deserve this)

Pierrot often characterized as a melancholic, a sufferer and a tragic lover. When it comes to the humor in the circus setting specifically, it usually comes from the pierrot's melancholic nature and often involves his clumsiness and kind of self-deprecating slapstick, which I find quite fitting for a man who fucked up so bad that he isolated himself from the rest of the world and who's wife left him because of that. Lucifer's whole life after the fall has been one giant unfunny joke, and he isn't coping well with it.

Elements of a pierrot costume can be observed in the white jacket, the coat lapel of which is mimicking a frilled collaret. The fur pattern on his face is also a reference to a pierrot's make-up: a white face with black (well, brown in our case) tears.

Lastly, you probably have noticed the shirt, which has the main colour accent to it. It's actually inspired by a strongman singlet.

I've decided to give it less stripes for simplicity (also because I'm lazy). He's supposed to be wearing shorts and a sleeveless shirt underneath his costume, but I'm too tired to draw another image, so I guess you have to use your imagination on that one. I'll be frank, it's mostly supposed to be a little nod to the fact that Lucifer is supposed to be a strongest being in hell. Yeah I included it into my design because of a bad pun.

On a second thought, it's probably not great that I've tried to crum in three different types of circus performers into one character, but I'm not a professional character designer, so I legitimately do not know if that's ok. More experienced people are welcome to critique or correct me in the replies/comments.

BONUS:

While finishing the first image I randomly thought to myself that besides the ringleader elements, there's may not be enough clues that he's a monarch. So I decided to do a separate image where I clown around to try and redesign his crown/tophat, so here it is:

And if I decided to break down my thought process designing Lucifer himself, I might as well do it here also.

I've decided to keep the crown and ringmasters' tophat elements. I used images of a ringleaders' tophats and the imperial state crown as my main points of reference.

All the metallic elements of the "crown" are actually made out of pyrite, also known as a fool's gold (you can really tell that I'm a fan of dumb puns). I decided to used it to further showcase how Lucifer ruling the hell is treated like a joke.

Chains surrounding the tophat are supposed to represent how Lucifer was unwillingly thrown into this position and it weighs him down.

These two rings at the bottom are supposed to look kinda like a snakeskin (yes really), which is a reference to that scene where he turns into a snake to give Eve an apple. Speaking of which:

At the top is placed an imperial orb, with a upsidedown star (pentagram) instead of a cross. It carries the same meaning as a regular imperial orb in a sense that it shows monarch's power, but it's also kinda mocks the regular globus cruciger. (Fun fact: russians sometimes call it something like a "monarch's apple". I just thought it was kinda funny considering the context I'm using it in.).

The rest of the elements are taken from a regular tophat ringleaders' usually wear.

Anyway, that's all I have. Feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments or replies, I'll gladly read them.

#hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel redesign

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carpeossa · 4 months

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Alright, Ghoulies!

The results are in and we have enough people interested to have our two Hannibal Lecter art weeks this year!

FIRST WEEK: February 11th - 17th 2024

#lecterlove2024

So the first week will be set for February 11th - 17th 2024 and theme will be based on the 7 Greek words for love:

Eros: romantic, passionate love

Philia: intimate, authentic friendship

Erotoropia or ludus: playful, flirtatious love

Storge: unconditional, familial love

Philautia: compassionate self-love

Pragma: committed, companionate love

Agápe: empathetic, universal love

You can write, draw, sculpt, 3d print whatever you want.

There is no wrong thing to create during this event; just place the appropriate tags in the post to allow people to avoid any triggering situations (layers to fear level gore, NSFW, and the like) or situations that may get HR on someone's case because they checked the tag on their lunch break (again NSFW).

You can create these in any order you like and although the theme is love, it doesn't HAVE to be based strictly on these 7 types. They're mainly there for suggestions incase of art block.

**Edit: You can write anything love related with any of the characters in the Lecter series. Be them from the Movies, Tv series, or the book series.

The tag for this week will be #lecterlove2024

SECOND WEEK: Oct 27th - Nov 2nd

#horrorlecter2024

The second week will be set for October 27th - November 2nd and the theme will be based on different horror subgenres:

1. Body horror

2. Gothic Horror

3. Supernatural Horror

4. Psychological Horror

5. Found Footage Horror

6. Lovecraftian Horror

7. Survival Horror

Again, you can write, draw, sculpt, 3d print whatever you want.

There is no wrong thing to create with this event; just place the appropriate tags in the post to allow people to avoid any triggering situations (layers to fear level gore, NSFW, and the like) or situations that may get HR on someone's case because they checked the tag on their lunch break (again NSFW).

You can create anything horror related you like. The list I provided is mainly there for suggestions incase of art block.

**Edit: You can write anything horror related with any of the characters in the Lecter series. Be them from the Movies, Tv series, or the book series.

The tag for this week will be #horrorlecter2024

Final remarks,

If you complete the work before the designated week starts and want to share, please do! We'd love to see what you have!

Once the week is over, I'll create a master list containing links to that week's work and who created it.

Also, I hope to make this an annual event so that all members of the Hannibal Lector fandom can have something fun to look forward to each year.

That's all for now, ghoulies! Have fun creating!

#lecterlove2024 #horrorlecter2024 #hannibal lecter #clarice starling #clannibal #william graham #will graham #mason verger #margot verger #paul krendler #jack crawford #francis dolarhyde #jame gumb #frederick chilton #ardelia mapp #barney matthews #I wish there was an undo button when typing out stuff on a post

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welcometololaland · 8 months

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thank you everyone for the tags (@reyesstrand @rmd-writes @three-drink-amy @statueinthestone @lemonlyman-dotcom and if there was someone else i'm so sorry i went back through my mentions and bamboozled myself). i wasn't gonna do this, and then i saw the potential to actually get myself back in the zone for unreleased stuff and rolled with it, so thank you!

rules (that I slightly bent): pick your 5 most recent fics and list the first and last lines, no context.

(i'm leaving (Un)Professional Services, Fifty First Dates and Cause of Action because they're currently being posted :))

(1) ALTA (UNRELEASED)

“You know we’re going to a fundraiser, right?” Carlos asks, eyeing off the cinnamon doughnut and large coffee in his father’s hand as Gabriel opens the car door and settles into the passenger seat.

His Carlos. A marshmallow.

(2) living at the centre of a wound still fresh

Four-thirty in the morning is a peaceful time, Carlos thinks as he blinks up at the ceiling and watches the dust motes settle.

Grief has made nothing in their lives feel completely right, but somehow, everything is still okay.

(3) all is near and can't be touched

It feels like a dream. A really bad one, actually. A nightmare, to be more specific. A very realistic, very vivid vision that clings to TK like a second skin.

Carlos hums softly and hugs him tighter. “Exactly,” he says. “For as long as we both shall live.”

(4) (Fl)oral Arrangements

“You got a key?” TK asks, trailing Carlos as he walks briskly out of the elevator and towards the loft.

TK licks his lips. "Maybe," he concedes, thinking of the sounds he can draw out of Carlos and the way they’ll echo off the shower tiles. "But I'm also right."

(5) Like Gravity

Bradley is twenty minutes late and he’s kind of stressed about it.

Jake sighs. “Guess not,” he replies, a little pleased sound echoing from the back of his throat as Bradley rests their foreheads together. “But that’s your reward for making an honest man out of me.”

I know this has done the rounds so consider this an open tag (please tag me if you do this!) and i'll also rope in @strandnreyes @stutteringpeach @basilsunrise @chicgeekgirl89 @goodways @ladytessa74 @bonheur-cafe @heartstringsduet @catanisspicy @beautifulhigh and @carlos-in-glasses just in case they haven't done it :)

#911 lone star #tarlos #tgm #hangster #serenshaw #ALTA #living at the centre of a wound still fresh #like gravity #(fl)oral arrangements #all is near and can't be touched #lola writes #tag games #tk strand #carlos reyes #bradley bradshaw #jake seresin

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0104-vikita · 5 months

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I love your art ¿Could you plz bring a tip to grow in the platform or just improve my art?

P.D: I REALLY enjoy your art 👉👈

Oh lord this will be long 😅

First off, thanks a lot. Fills me with joy that you enjoy my art.

For the first advice, I'm gonna be honest with you. I would have never gotten the growth I got in the past weeks if it weren't for TADC. with this I'm not saying that you should force yourself to post things you don't like just because they are popular. In my case I got really fixated on TADC and I was going to draw things about it anyways. I'm not going to post about TADC forever (or not as frequently) but now that my blog has grown a lot and people knows me and my art, I'll be easier to get engagement with my original content. Putting that aside, extra things that I have done to try to get favored by the algorithm are: be constant with my post (same day every week) look up the best time to post or at what hours Tumblr users are most active, trying to have a first slide that's eye catching and ofc, using the tags.

For the second part. I'll talk from personal experience. Try to always draw things that you know you struggle with. Do a fast sketch of the whole scene, person, object, etc, you wanna do and then go to details. Don't force yourself to draw when you are in a bad mood unless it helps you to calm down. Usually drawing while listening to music helps me to flow my ideas better. Don't feel ashamed of trying to emulate a style you like, you'll learn by looking at how others do things, you'll eventually develop your own style without noticing.

I'll just add more if they occur to me. Always remember, it's not like I'm an expert nor I've been using this platform for long, at least not for posting. most of my improvement in art has happened sub-consciously.

Regardless of how everything happened, I'm happy that I got to this point, being able to inspire others and see that others like the ideas I have. I feel like with this blog I'll be finally able to express a lot of things and reach a certain goal I've had for a while. Thank you all for the support c:

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robo-dino-puppy · 6 months

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I hit a sort of follower milestone recently (and I'm reasonably sure most of you aren't bots) so... new pinned post time!

(to all the followers and moots I see in my notifs all the time - I love you all so much ♡)

▷ First of all:

I made horizon-armor and you should check it out if you've ever wanted a gallery of all Aloy's armor and dye options from HFW :D Here's a previous pinned post about it. This ↑ is the card I made for it in the Horizon Database, which is not mine but you should also check out if you're interested in gameplay mechanics/tips/tricks/practically any info you ever wanted to know about HFW. (the database was put together by twingeofregret on Arktix's discord, and many of the items there were put together by other server members)

▷ Second, I don't think it needs saying? But DON'T REPOST - meaning, don't reupload in your own post - any of my work and don't upload it to any other sites. Yeah this is "only" virtual photography but I still spend time on it and it's mine. Please don't, for anyone's creations. Reblog or share links!

▷ Thirdly, absolutely feel free to use my pics as drawing/art references or personal phone backgrounds! (But please don't edit my shots and repost them.) If you use things as references I'd love to be tagged so I can see what you drew/painted/whatevered <3

...the rest below a cut because I don't know how to be brief...

▷ Fourth: I would very much appreciate anyone who wants to add image descriptions to my posts - I know it's a sucky excuse but when I've tried doing it I just end up exhausted and feel like it's either too longwinded or not a good description at all. So if anyone who is good with words would like to help me out I'd be super grateful! I'll reblog your addition and (if you're cool with it) I can add it to the alt text of the image.

▷ Fifth: With the more-real-than-ever possibility of Tumblr imploding, I thought I'd also include where else you might find me! I'm not going anywhere until this place melts down because Tumblr is the only place I've ever felt comfortable, but I also have an account on Reddit (ew) that I use occasionally: I'm robo_dino_puppy there. I put Horizon videos on YouTube sometimes: I'm robo-dino-puppy over there too. I exist on Discord although it's rather... social for me and honestly I'm still not sure if I'm doing it right haha. I guess I should make an effort to join more servers to keep track of people just in case, but I've always felt like I'd be a fraud or an invader with the ship servers because I don't actually ship Aloy with anyone...

As a backup for the armor gallery I've snagged horizon-armor (and robo-dino-puppy, for that matter) on Neocities, but there's nothing there at the moment because I'm currently waaaaay too braindead to create a site from scratch. Also empty right now, but in case of future need I'm squatting on robo-dino-puppy on Dreamwidth and Pillowfort.

And now thanks to a kindly-provided invite, robo-dino-puppy on Bluesky!

aaaaand finally I'm also @robo-dino-puppies if you're interested in my non-Horizon stuff/reblogs/my sideblog 👀

#pinned post #maintenance #text post #also my asks are open and i think i'm pretty friendly so... lmk if there's something else i should cover!#*good god* i hope tumblr doesn't disappear because it's been a part of my life for so long #i love maintaining this blog as a scrapbook of my ridiculously excessive captures folder #and tumblr is the only 'social' media i've ever felt comfortable on - mainly because i can avoid being actually social hah #turned off reblogs for this one just because it's very much pinned-post-y and maybe i'll update it at some point #but if you need to for some reason you can reblog the past pinned post about the gallery!

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spanishskulduggery · 11 months

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This might be a dumb question, but why are some sentences in Spanish backward with the subject or object being first in the sentence structure and the noun at the end? And then other times its the opposite, like in english.

Spanish just has a very flexible syntax [word order], and it can be more vague when Spanish omits the subject

I do talk about this more in some tagged posts for syntax but I'll give you the simplest explanation below because it can be confusing and get really specific, but it's something you get a feel for as you go in Spanish

Most Spanish though is either SVO [subject verb object] like English or VSO [verb subject object] for certain situations

Grammatically both are acceptable except in certain situations and it's often a matter of the specific type of sentence, or how much emphasis you want

As an example, interrogatives [sentences that are questions] typically put the verb first and the subject/object second:

¿Cómo estás (tú)? = How are you?

The subject - if it's included - follows the verb in an interrogative sentence

There are also fixed parts of the syntax like the placement of direct objects, indirect objects, and reflexives. There are only certain places it's acceptable to put them depending on the sentence

Commands also have similar flexibility for emphasis

Declarative sentences (which are your normal sentences in Spanish) can have wildly different syntax depending on the mood but in general Spanish tends to follow either the SVO [subject verb object] model same as English, or for emphasis in certain situations you can come across the SOV [subject object verb] model

This is with a huge grain of salt since again, object pronouns have set positions with verbs so things vary a lot. There are technically I think 6 combinations of subject, verb, object that can be used and it really depends because they read differently for emphasis

For the sake of simplifying things (a lot), if you're doing regular declarative sentences - SVO is a basic sentence, and SOV is either a specific construction or emphasis

It's often better to approach this clause by clause

No entiendo. = I don't understand. Es que no entiendo. = It's that I don't understand. / "I just don't get it" Y tú, ¿lo has entendido? = And you, did you understand that?

#1 Basic - note that you're omitting the yo "I", so it's a bit vague - but you could say yo no entiendo "I (specifically) don't understand" OR say something like no entiendo yo "I for one don't get it" - both make sense, just puts a spin on it but both are added emphasis

#2 Again, basic but two clauses es is "it is", again silent subject here and second clause no entiendo same as above. You could mix up that no entiendo with the subject if you wanted - es que yo no entiendo / es que no entiendo yo same readings as above

#3 The first part y tú is like an evocative (talking to someone), then ¿lo has entendido? the lo is a direct object "it" - and it goes in front of the verb. In this case that's has + entendido as part of the perfect tenses meaning "have you understood?" or "did you understand?" + "it". You could rephrase it without the evocative ¿lo has entendido? simple by itself, or ¿lo has entendido tú? "did YOU understand it?" specific. It's really the difference between something like "hey you, did you understand?" and "did you understand?' by itself simply

Where you get into changeable territory for real is just how you want to be understood. Again, please note that most of Spanish follows similar syntax to English SVO so when you deviate from it it's drawing attention to it

It can at times come across as poetic or lyrical; Spanish often used to have verbs at the end of lines in poetry because verbs are easy to rhyme which gives things a lyrical or poetic quality sometimes

Something like:

Lo que sientes es hermoso. = What you feel is beautiful. Es hermoso lo que sientes. = It's beautiful what you feel. / It's beautiful, that thing you're feeling.

Another example is from the Little Mermaid, and all of this is phrased in a lyrical way:

Yo admito que solía ser muy mala No bromeaban al decir que bruja soy Pero ahora encontrarás Que mi camino enmendé Que firmemente arrepentida estoy Cierto es "I admit that I used to be very bad They weren't kidding when they said I was a witch But now you will find That I changed my ways That truly remorseful I am It is true"

That's a rough translation but you'll see that lines 1 and 3 are normal, but the rest is lyrical and poetic... partially because soy and estoy rhyme, partially because it's extra dramatic this way

You could rephrase these sentences like que enmendé mi camino "that I fixed my path", or es cierto "it's true"

But you can also just leave it to be a little dramatic

[btw I highly recommend looking at Pobres almas en desgracia so you can see the full range of syntax you can use - it's dramatic and for emphasis that there's so much change and it makes sense in the context]

...

In regular Spanish you would say son hermosos "they're beautiful", but if you wanted to be dramatic and maybe a bit extra you say hermosos son

Similarly as a compliment: estás guapa "you're pretty", but if you want to lay it on really thick and sound like an auntie you could say qué guapa estás "how pretty you are / how nice you look" etc

#Spanish #la gramatica #learning spanish #langblr #language learning #languageblr #spanish language #asks #long post

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chipped-chimera · 10 months

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WIP WEDNESDAY - 12/07/23

AND IT'S ACTUALLY ON A WEDNESDAY! Thanks @theviridianbunny for the tag <3 I regret to inform you ... it's more hair again @.@ (this one is actually different, I swear)

More under the cut, as usual~

Soooo if you've been following me you probably know I've done a few things since my last WIP Wednesday, namely more tattoo stuff, and more recently ... more hair stuff.

After a LOT of agonising over it I finally consider the neck 'done' ... or done enough (vaguely ... thinking about doing something more in the transition between the tattoo and the jaw but I probably should stop honestly or I'll never stop). This means I probably have enough done to get away with taking screenshots while I work on the rest of it. Been pondering drawing up an actual plan for the rest beyond what I've been doing so far - mostly winging it and smashing things together. Might get stuff done faster, who knows.

Anyway I am back on my hair shit, yet again that's going just about ... as well as you'd expect ...

Okay okay, I'll be honest, this has been fixed but I gotta say after spending a whole 12 hrs staring at lines of code, changing entries and having to redo them several times because I'd fucked up some file name or changed my mind or found out 'no that is not where you should be putting that folder you absolute dingus' and this was the best I could do was kind of hilarious. 😂

The important part was I'd gotten it IN, which was a process and a half, considering THIS time I'm using a custom made 2048px hair texture (alpha is 4k) and a higher poly mesh - which means yeah, this is the same hair rebuilt from scratch.

After some additional fiddling ...

... and a very unamused Ven (I'm sorry hun) ...

I got it in. All of it. No missing textures, no hair cards in the hair cap slot. The physics look janky but it's somewhat intentional - this is a minimal effort rigging job based on the alt rig, the priority was to get this hair texture IN so I could see how it looked in game and how everything sat before I dug myself further into a sunk cost fallacy over this second version of the hair.

And I'm actually pretty happy with it? There is some curl distortion yeah but it's not as bad as it was last time - and considering I'd rigged that one PROPERLY is saying something. Higher poly + textures are making a big difference here. It's pretty obvious in the comparison -

Also yes I am aware this one is WAY too shiny, but that one is a considerably easy fix now I know how Vertex Paint actually affects this value. I was a bit too generous on the highlight gradient so I've already repainted what I have so far, using side-by-side references with existing game meshes to try and get it 'equal' but it's likely gonna be a lot of back and forth calibrating with that one.

Excessive shiny-ness aside I'm actually REALLY happy with how the side curl is sitting nice and neat in her jacket collar this time! Also man ... doesn't that look silky ... (ok maybe some shine is good lmao)

I guess that's kind of it on the mod front. I've got other projects in a very initial stage (it's fanfic. Ofc it's fanfic) but work on both the tattoo bodysuit + hair is eating up a lot of my daily spoon allowance so that one will happen when it happens I guess (and probably when at minimum, this goddamn hair is done).

Oh and this hair is using UUH4V. I GOT IT TO WORK. Which means I'll be able to use multiple rigs which will hopefully prevent these carefully crafted curls from getting minced beyond recognition, fingers crossed.

Anyways until next time!

(Uh, I tag anyone who read all of this. Yes you. sorry I don't know many people yet and I'm shyyy)

p.s. yes hair tutorial. soon. In the case you are similarly frustrated and desperate as I was and working on hair please note I AM VERY OPEN TO TELLING YOU ALL THE INFO just ask me. Cause tutorial might take time unfortunately. But it's in the works.

#kerytalk #my modding #wip wednesday #cyberpunk 2077 modding

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im-the-j-in-anthony-j-crowley · 5 months

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Hiiii

This is a kind of introduction to this blog, my main blog (where there is a considerable amount of good omens considering that I have this specific one) is: @voids-ideas

About season 3 here

I am an autistic person who since I was little started to develop interest in moral issues, the concepts of good and evil are something that interests me a lot. And my favorite area is, in fact, the gray area. And the idea that you can't define people in concepts of good or bad, because there is no monochrome. There are grays.

There are grayscales. So well... can you imagine my surprise when one November 16th I hit play on a series because tiktok recommended it to me, and I discovered that it was the love story between an angel and a demon who were getting to know each other and learning that they were neither completely good, nor completely bad, but a scale of grays?

I went crazy. And since that day, I've watched the series three times (possibly more if I don't remember to edit this post often). I could spend hours writing here all the things I've loved and found combined in the series in the most beautiful way it could happen, but I don't think we have enough time for that.

So I'll just say that this is my first time being extremely active in a fandom, my first time interacting, sharing theories, reading other people's theories and generating some of my own. And so far, I'm loving every second of it.

I feel it is appropriate to warn you that I have a very poor ability to explain things in a few words, so I will probably make very long texts.

And I want to write down that respect for all people is something very important to me, so just... I wanted to mention that, and in case at any point I say something that doesn't align with that, I hope I can correct it.

If anyone wants to send me questions, messages, or whatever, they are welcome. I love every notification I get from tumblr

That's it, bye!!!

PS: When I figure out how to use tags here, maybe I'll tidy up this blog

Suggestions for me to try to draw here

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lelandmylove · 14 days

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Pinned post because I'm finally not lazy and uh I wanna change my description. So.

Basic information about me

HAIIII CALL ME AGUSTIN!

He/Him

Uh I'm 14! So yk don't be weird or gross. Birthday January 15th! My zodiac sign is a Capricorn ♑!

Trans/Pansexual

I like Leland idk if that was obvious..

Proshipers, Transphobic, Homophobic, Zoophiles, and yk just basic DNI.

Blog info

This blog is mainly for my Tcsm OC Cindy Mayfield and sometimes just me ranting or rebologing random shit.

Sometimes when I get frustrated I'll vent on here but usually after like an hour or smth I'll delete it but in case you don't really wanna see any of that and are just here for my OCs then I'll direct you to this blog- @lillambtotheslaughter

I do plan on making more side blogs for other OCS and maybe for my original story I wanna bring back to life sooner or later but for now I only have that one. Yes I know that my second blog doesn't have many posts but that's because I'm trying my best to finish the pinned post for it when I get motivation too.

RULES FOR THIS ACCOUNT!

Pretty basic nothing too big or anything.

•Don't make weird/rude comments on my blog. (If you don't like the shit I draw or what I post then block me. Don't be a little bitch.)

•You are allowed to draw my OCs so long as you tag me in the art and also ask permission before hand!

•This goes for rule one don't harass me by abusing the anonymous opinion in the ask's because of something you don't like. Just grow up and hit the block button it's really tiring having to deal with that.

•Honestly just have fun here. Giggle at the stupid shit I draw, comment whatever you want (except hate fuck you) on the drawings, just enjoy yourself on my blog

MY HUSBAND'S AND WIVES😍‼️

(also known as my f/o's)

Tcsm

•Leland McKinney. (Been married for a full year already 😏)

•Sonny Williams (believe it or not I actually have quite a few drawings of him and Cindy)

•Sissy slaughter

Creepypasta

•Ben drowned (FUCKING LOVE BEN)

•Eyeless jack (SAME AS BEN BRO LOVE THESE TWO)

Demon slayer

•Sanemi Shinazugawa

•Zenitsu Agatsuma

•Genya Shinazugawa (Ye I got both the brothers)

•Kanaroji Mitsuri

•Goto (that one Kakushi that's always finding tanjiro and his friends)

I have more I just need to remember because they're all scattered from different fandoms 😭

Other blogs:

@lillambtotheslaughter @hillyhay

And that's it. That's the end of this pinned post. Tbh kinda disappointing but Idrc. You kinda learn more about me the longer you get to know me so👰💍

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signalhill-if · 1 year

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Hey folks! It's just about time to start thinking about art.

I've tried to sit down several times and work out a style for Signal Hill, and it's just never looked right. Eventually I concluded that if I wanted art that looked right, I'd need to hire somebody else to do it for me.

So I'll be commissioning paintings of the characters from a very talented artist, @/wuntrum (not tagging because I am shy <3), whose are you can peruse here. Not only are they talented, they also have a comic called Signals, so it's like the universe is trying to tell me something haha. This is going to be over a pretty big time span because obviously it's quite expensive and it takes time to make art, but expect to be seeing the first piece in the next few months.

However, I still have some time to decide who is going to be the first up! I don't want to decide entirely on my own, so I'm going to make it a poll.

I'm also narrowing the options down to just characters we've met in the actual game so far. All of their portraits will be based on their in-game introductions. I'm going to give you a description of what I'm thinking for each one, the pros and cons, and I'll let y'all have the final say (or maybe like... the second-to-last say. If it's close enough I might pick). Without further ado...

Doc

I'm hoping to eventually have two versions of Doc, one with and one without the plague doctor outfit. The one you'd be getting first, though, would be with. It would be a full body painting of him standing against an abstract desert landscape, something that could function as both standalone art and have the title placed on the right. This one is probably also going to be the most expensive? Unsure, I won't know until I run the concept by the artist. Also it might be a little sad if the first piece I get is one where the character's face isn't even visible lmao.

Yasmin

This is the image that's been caught in my head for MONTHS, actually since super early in the game's development, haha. Yasmin reclining in a couch covered in pillows and draped with translucent fabric, possibly holding her pipe or possibly with arm outstretched to the viewer. Gah. I want to see it soooooo bad. But also maybe it would be good to leave this off until later, so we've got the vibe down a little better before getting started on this one?

Yvette

Yvette's intro is similarly iconic, seen from a low angle in a fancy robe perched on the fancy staircase. I've got a very good idea of what this one would look like since I've tried to draw it several times before, so that would be good re: references. It'll also be less expensive than the others, since I don't want this one to be a full body shot. So that's a big plus.

The big downside with KC is that I'm not 100% sure which concept to go with- I could do her at the beginning of Lamplighters, in her windbreaker, with her feet kicked up on the table, smoking. Or I could do something inspired by Test Run. For that reason, it's probably best to leave her until Test Run comes out, but I'll throw her in in case y'all really want to see her intro scene lol.

Levi

Levi is similar in that I'm not 100% sure about the concept. It would certainly be him with the knife in Tracking Number, half body, but I'm not sure what angle or mood to go with, so I'd probably be leaving it somewhat up to the artist to decide. Might be better to leave him until later, but again, I'll include him in case y'all really want to see him.

#i have a feeling which one is gonna win but pleeeeeaaaaase consider the actual composition not just the character!!!#if you pick doc we still aren't going to get to see his face in a proper portrait for a long time lol #we've gotten some interesting results before in polls so i'm actually not sure what's gonna win out here!#we'll see #also this poll is gonna be open for a week but let's be honest. we'll know in a day lol #update #poll

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thedevilsrain · 9 months

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i started writing this on the tags of that last post but it got too long so i'm. going to put it here lol

out of all the messy implications of eroica (in terms of its' handling of sexuality, politics, religion and even history itself). i honestly think the major's dad and steamroller dick (not even his name is able to save him) are the worst additions to the story

dick is supposed to be this parody of the CIA, he's paranoid, impulsive, reckless and aggressive -- especially the latter, the namesake of his nickname pretty much. he always jumps to violence and won't even trust his ally in NATO

it's especially curious to look at him after reading aoike's "code name: merely jordan" comic, in which she talks about the origin of eberbach, considering he was a pretty distinct character for a shoujo manga (an adult man who "speaks like an old man" (characteristics in japanese which r unfortunately lost in english), a man in the military etc), and mentions how she didn't want a CIA character because of their bad reputation after watergate

which is to say, steamroller dick is supposed to be, in a way, the opposite of eberbach. or, at the very least, he's supposed to be a comparison to him -- the "aggressive" CIA agent against the "cool" and "level-headed" NATO agent, who doesn't give into aggressiveness unless he's deliberately being pushed, which is only the case because of dorian (which is important to note for me -- i always find that the less dorian is in these stories the more boring they become, because eberbach really has no charisma of his own, he's a completely cold man)

but steamroller becomes kind of obsolete when you remember that, in the end, eberbach is just as paranoid, aggressive, impulsive and, let me just say it, a fucking asshole as him, from tying up dorian in a room full of statues in the dark after he was pretty much traumatized due to one, to calling a woman a "godzilla", and his overall treatment of his workers, which is a post for another day

in the end, he isn't any different form steamroller dick -- they threaten each other, they're after the same man for a dick measuring context between intel agencies, and who treats dorian like shit. you can even draw a parallel between the above panel and this!

interesting to note, though -- eberbach's aggressiveness, impulsiveness, and his mistreatment of dorian are all, to a point, the reason we like him. it's funny to see him be pissed off, it's thrilling to see him act on impulsive to save (or kill) somebody, and it's fun watching dorian tease him and him get pissed off. the difference here, however, is that once he's shown to be "better" than somebody, instead of a flawed character that we can enjoy, is when i think his characterization becomes the weakest, which i think is the case with not just this arc (emperor waltz), but every story after it. dorian becomes just an annoying guy who pisses the major -- the better one, the hero -- off, so it feels like every time he's a huge asshole to anybody, which is all the time, becomes justified

and the major's dad... i'll put this under a readmore, because it gets too dark (warning for mentions of child abuse)

right from the start, at the mention of his... rank and duty. as a soldier. in WW2, his entire existence becomes an uncomfortable addendum to not just the major's family's past, but the story in general

the second time we ever see him (and the only where we see his face) is in "vacation orders", when he's talking to a eberbach as a child, who literally answers by calling him "sir"

and it's a moment where you think, okay, his father was in.... the military, he's bound to be strict with his son, but the implications becomes ten times worse once one of klaus' classmates talk about how he could fight, and says his father "taught him". it becomes even worse in the CMX translation, where the translators literally say he "beat him into it"

and then, again, it just becomes a mess. why was this adult man teaching his seven year old how to fight? or better, why did this seven year old learn to fight because of his dad?

but that is all we see from klaus' dad's influence on his childhood -- every time he shows up next, it's when he calls the major on the phone, and each time eberbach seems not just startled by it, but changes his demeanor completely

and, these are played as jokes. and i'm not going to lie and say i didn't find these scenes funny, because they are! eberbach is always serious and demanding to every person around him, and seeing him suddenly submit (for the lack of a better word) is funny

however, the implications, again, become uncomfortable when you take into the picture what's shown about his childhood. almost cruel, in a way, especially when you hear how eberbach absolutely despises his dad, being around him, calling him, and wishes he would stay in switzerland (interesting place to put an ex german soldier in, but ok), and will insult him behind his back

in the end, i feel eberbach's dad should have been the footest of footnotes into the story, or not a character at all -- the first as in, i wish he only appeared for these funny call moments, and the second because, again. ex ww2 soldier. and frankly even when i get to these scenes where eberbach calls him, it ends up giving me a weird feeling afterwards, like i'm laughing at a man's misery, but that misery is just, like, bottled up trauma and repressed rage.

#hi i spent like 30min writing this #led zeppelin shoujo yaoi manga tag #long post

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