#that some kind of vital connection is missing

[vixensbrainrotts]

The one behind the mask

Content: Short imagine

Tropes: tattoo artist! reader, hairdresser! reader, vaguely gothic! reader, Draken is kind of obsessed with the reader here, but nothing really too deep

Warnings: some mention of scissors and tattoos (lmk if i missed anything)

Summary: Takemichi has to find out more about the past-you, so he decides to ask around the gang to see if anyone has any connections. To his luck, Draken deems him fit to meet you, and so Takemichi gets to experience your expertise first hand

Vixen’s two cents: This is such a random idea, idek where it came from but lmk if you like it or not. Also! Requests and asks are open, and if you’d like to be a moot (to perhaps proofread or triangulate ideas) pleaseeee feel free to message me!!!! Now enjoy

"She's the best at what she does, trust." Draken's voice left no room for argumentation, his gruff voice sealing the deal as he leans back into the couch behind him. He was on an endorphin high of sorts, his confidence boosted due to the fresh lineup he just got, the growing hair now cut shirt, his signature style refreshed.

Akkun frowned behind Takemichi a little, a bit disheartened by the 'threat' you posed to him and his future business. "So... She cuts hair and therefore she's under special gang-internal protection?"

Draken chuckles heartily and shakes his head. "No, no. More than that. She‘s the best tattoo artist i know too! Ask any guy who got a tattoo in the past three years who tatted it, and she's your answer. She does it well, too. I remember back when a guy wanted an impossible coverup for an ex's name- she made it work, right as rain! And there was an awful lot of ink to cover."

Takemichi didn't quite grasp why or how you achieved the status you unintentionally had in the gang, but it was vital information for his future, real-time version. When Naoto had asked him to research you a little closer in person, Takemichi had expected you to be another fierce gang leader- one who dons the same scary-looking plague mask as you in the future.

What he had not expected was to learn that you were apparently a hairdresser-tattoo artist fusion type thing. Why did you play such a big role in the future? Sure, he understood having a favorite barber, Akkun being the best example for that, but placing them in the closest circles of a highly criminal gang for exclusive trimming rights? That's a little far, no?

"You don't get it, do you?" Draken asked, his hands on his thighs, rubbing them as he rose to a stand in one movement. Takemichi flinched a little, a bit taken aback at how easily Draken would read him. "No, not really. I-" Before he could finish, he was interrupted.

"What's this about?" he was cut short by the other twin Dragon. "Mitsuya-kun!" Takemichi startled. "Y/n. He doesn't quite get why she's has the place she has here." Mistuya's eyes widened a sliver at Draken‘s words, and he threw an arm around Takemichi's shoulder. "You got any plans Hanagaki?" Takemichi shook his head no in response. "Good, 'cause we're givin' her a visit."

And with that, Takemichi's fate was sealed. Mitsuya and Draken pulled him along towards their bikes, Akkun tagging along behind him per Takemichi's request. The group settled onto their bikes and drove off, and Takemichi tried to keep track of the path from hither to thither, but lost track after the turns got too confusing.

After a while, both bikes came to a stop, pushing down the Kickstands in front of a grungy-looking little shop, the doors glazed in a matte cover, only leaving an outline that looked like a Plague-doctor's mask. Ah. There was a parallel he could draw. "Is this the place?" Akkun asked, his voice laced with a bitter touch of distaste, probably intimidated by your place in the hairdressing market.

"Yup! This is where dreams are made a reality!" Mituya spoke, his voice a lot livelier and genuine than usual. "She's gonna have a field day with you Mitchy." Draken snickers as they push open the doors to the shop, a little jingle playing in response.

"What's that supposed to mean-" Takemichi's voice died in his throat when his eyes fell on the interior. Dark, weird, gothic, wonderful. Those were the words that come to him t describe your shop. Kooky portraits, lacey details, and a million different shades of black were highlighted only by the mahogany of the front desk and the dimly glowing lamps and candles littered around the walls and surfaces.

There was a black bulletin wall with a few dozen sketches pinned to it, the title "Please let me put this on you" in the center of pictures of flowers, bugs, lace designs, birds, and many, many others that didn't fall into the eye too directly.

On your desk and on a shelf behind it laid a few skulls of animals Takemichi couldn't even begin to place, the only hint being the type of sharp, white teeth they did (or didn't) have.

There was a scent of something in the air, but Takemichi couldn't place that either. It was a pleasant mix of natural and synthetic, a unique mix that lingered in his nose and clouded his mind with a very welcomed sense of calm.

"Coming." An unexpectedly soft voice called. What however emerged from the corridor leading off to somewhere next to your desk, looked nothing like the voice Takemichi just heard. The guy was almost bigger than Draken and just about the same amount of bald, his face littered with piercings and clad in a style much too modern to fit the shop.

The guy didn't talk to them however, he only turned to the desk, pulled out a wallet, and started fidgeting with the bills. With his back turned his scalp was on display, an impressive image of a burning, hyperrealistic black and white skull faced the group. It was new, they could tell by the slightly red skin, and the shiny coat of a second skin placed carefully overtop. Takemichi held his breath. So that's what you do. Draken pointed a finger at the fresh tattoo and pulled his brows upwards for a moment, clearly impressed with how clean it looked.

Then a second pair of footsteps sounded from the same hallway, and this time Takemichi was sure it was you. Lo and behold your figure emerged, clad in something much more appropriate to the shop's aesthetic, black latex gloves still on. "Ah." you looked a little unimpressed when you caught sight of the group looming in your reception.

"Didn't I just get rid of you?" it was purely rhetorical, because the moment you passed them, you were tending to the guy standing at the desk, showing him a clipboard and then mumbling a price at which the guy nodded and passed the money, saying his thanks before bidding you a pleasant afternoon before leaving the shop, the door falling shut and the little jingle playing again.

"And to what do I owe the pleasure?" You ask, sorting the money into the register, separating the tips and putting them into a little box beside it. "Hi y/n." Draken started, grinning from ear to ear. "Hello, Ken. Speak. What do you want?" You didn't spare them a glance as you finished up and pulled the gloves, chucking them into a bin under the desk.

"Right, so, I've brought you someone in desperate need of your assessment." Draken finished finally, stepping to the side to reveal Takemichi in your line of sight, and it was as if you felt the shift, you looked up.

When your and his gaze locked, a shiver ran down his spine and he could feel sweat trickle down his nape. He gulped and shakily brought up a hand to send you a little wave. “Oh fuck.” You mumbled to yourself, eyes darting form his face to his hair and down to his face again. “Yeah alright thanks for the charity case.” Takemichi didn’t know whether to feel offended or not.

“It’s bad, isnt it?” Draken leaned over your desk and jerked a thumb over his shoulder at Takemichi. “Worse.” You replied curtly and then waved your hands at the group, ushering them to back up a little. You bustled your way to the hallway, waving a hand to them again. “Come then.”

You left the group a bit aloof, but after a few seconds of standing in silence Draken and Mitsuya started following you into the side rooms. Take Michu and Akkun shared a look before following cautiously, a little unsure of what to expect.

Once they entered a room you had already set up a chair in front of the biggest mirror Takemichi had ever seen, and were sorting out different tools and products on a tray in front of the mirror. Draken and Mitsuya had taken a set on a couch adjacent to the seat and were idly chatting about this and that to you in terms of the shop as well as a few questions regarding your previous client.

Idle chit-chat halted when you laid eyes on Takemichi and gestured for him to sit. “Well then, please sit.” Takemichi shares a brief look with Akkun again, who by now has taken seat in the grandfather armchair beside the couch the others were on. “Mkay..” he mumbles and sits stiffly.

“Relax!” You say as you come up behind him “You look like you’re about to shit yourself. I promise i wont stab you or anything.” Your face morphs into something that might resemble a smile before you grab his hair cautiously, carding your fingers through it, judgemental eyes scanning his hair. “Hmm Ken, when i said you should bring me your worst i didn’t really mean it.“ Ken laughs in response “You should know me by now, i dont make promises i cant keep!”

You roll your eyes a little “I would have appreciated a heads up if i knew that this is what you’re bringing me…” you pull the hair out of his face and tilt his head to different angles. “He has a good face with strong features, its just unfortunate how he’s decided to work with it.”. You speak as if he’s not in the room with you.

After a few moments of silence you release his head again and grab the scissors hanging from your belt pointing them at Takemichi through the mirror. “I know what i have to do with him.”

Mitsuya and Dranken whooped in response. You tell him about what kind of hair he has, how to treat his scalp, what colors and shades would (and wouldnt) suit him and how to style it properly.

By the time you’re done, you and him had agreed on a cooler, slightly darker shade of blonde as well as a more maintainable cut thats easier to style. Then you began unleashing tool after tool, product after product, and Takemichi thinks that this is the longest and simultaneously shortest hour he’s ever experienced.

When you finally deem your work as finished, you have him turned away from the big mirror in anticipation. “You ready?” You ask him with a slight smile on your face and grab the back of his chair, ready to spin him around. Before he answers, Takemichi looks over to the guys sitting on the couch.

Draken nods approvingly, “You’ve dont it again y/n, i cant believe it!”. Mitsuya wolf-whistles jokingly, “Damn Mitchy! Your girlfriends about to be real happy.” and Akkun’s mouth hangs open in pure admiration “How...? what…?” And thats all the approval he needs to turn nod at you, allowing you to turn him around.

For a second Takemichi wasn’t sure who was looking back at him through the mirror before he realized that it was his reflection, eyes just as wide as his felt, but the hair about a million times better than the last time he looked at it. All of a sudden he understood why the guys cared so much to keep you to themselves- you were a one in a million find.

“So.. What do you think” you ask, knowing well what the answer was. Takemichi wishes he could have answered but the words caught up in his throat, so he stayed open-mouthed like a fish out of water. “I think he likes it.” Draken answered for him and rose to a stand, the others following suit behind him. “We’re done here then.” You conclude and pull the cover off of Takemichi’s still frozen body.

“How much do i owe you?” Takemichi finally chokes out once Akkun had pulled him out of the seat and towards the shop’s front. You glance up at Takemichi and shake your head. “Nothing. I had enough fun fixing you, so perhaps just consider coming back when time’s due?” You walk behind the counter, checking something that looked like a schedule. “Now it was a pleasure doing business, but i have a client coming in for a sleeve in half an hour and i think i want a lunch break beforehand.”

“Thank you so much!” Takemichi says again before turning to the door, running a hand through his hair confidently. Akkun follows closely behind him, keen on inspecting the new cut from every angle, whilst Mitsuya throws a “We’ll leave you to it then!” Over his shoulder to you and leaves the little shop as well.

Takemichi is still too caught up in the bliss before he realizes that one of them is missing. “Wait!” He stops abruptly, “What about Draken?!” Akkun gasps in realization too and goes to turn around but is quickly stopped by Mitsuya who pulls the both of them along.

“Leave him to it, I think he’s getting lunch before his appointment so dont you worry about them.”

#tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #x reader #tokyo rev x you #tokrev #tokyo manji revengers #tr content #draken #draken x y/n #tokyo revengers fluff #tokyo rev #draken x reader #ken ryuuguji x reader #ken ryuguji #ken x reader #ken x you #ken x y/n

[windvexer]

Heyy! If it’s not too much of a hassle what are some divination tips for tarot? Sometimes it feels like I am really good and than other times it’s like ehh

Sure, I could use a break before I start crocheting again 😅

I want to emphasize that tarot is one of those things where people really build up personal beliefs around it, so the following is in no way universal. It's all just what I currently feel and believe, heavily influenced by my beliefs as a spirit-working witch.

Most of the actual tips are at the end. I hope this helps!

Structures and Methodology

Tarot can't "magically" come up with valid answers no matter how it's put into use. It's a hammer and a screw situation; sometimes, using the tool incorrectly is less than useless.

Not all tarot spreads are very useful. The type of spread can have a huge influence on success. Try setting aside 'one question per card' spreads and see if that helps improve consistency in your results.

Not all tarot meanings are very useful. Tarot card meanings evolve and change over time. Modern meanings tend to be much more heavily skewed towards topics of introspection and self-help. Try reading books about the history and interpretations of tarot cards themselves to expand your understanding of each card. I recommend The Mystical Origins of the Tarot by Paul Huson for a strictly historical look.

Not all tarot questions are very useful. Learning how to phrase and frame questions, along with how to select a spread to place them in, are vital skills for the reader. Try focusing on strictly defined, open-ended questions.

Not every tarot deck is useful for every reader. It can come down to art and author meanings, but it can also come down to personal connection: a deck may work great for you for reading some types of questions, but fall flat on other types; or be more hit-or-miss. If you have multiple decks, try rotating between them or doing deck interviews to discover what types of questions they best address.

Memorizing the cards is not necessarily useful. It's not just that there are 78 cards, with 78 potential reversed meanings, each card in and of itself potentially having multiple meanings; it's also that depending on context, the core meaning can entirely change. Professional readers at events will pull out the guidebook and look up card meanings. There is no actual reason to try and memorize the cards unless you really just want to.

It's useful to have a map that helps navigate the cards. By adopting simple structures that paint large parts of the deck with broad meaning, interpretations can be easier to tackle. Another popular 'map' is the Fool's Journey.

You don't have to use the entire deck for every reading. Only using some parts of a deck to read is called reading with a restricted deck, and I really recommend practicing it as a way to develop a relationship with the deck structure. It can also be a very useful way to focus readings on one area of life (e.g., a new business venture reading may be read using only Wands and Pentacles).

That being said,

Check to see if cards are accidentally missing. Reading with a restricted deck is one thing, but I find my readings go weird if a card accidentally fell out and is lost.

You should take notes on your readings. I know it's a hassle, but the information you can glean and analyze from your own work is invaluable to figuring a lot of stuff out, like, what kinds of spreads work best for me? And what kinds of questions do I excel or fail at? Because next comes...

Energy and Individuality

Some questions are more draining or difficult to read than other questions. Here are my illustrated beliefs on the matter, explaining why some questions that seem straightforward can be nigh impossible to grasp. Try taking notes on the scope of the questions you can answer well.

Not all diviners are equally skilled at reading on all things. A diviner may have a special talent for certain types of questions (such as the outcomes of new ventures, or navigating the inner landscape), yet may fall flat when it comes to other questions (relationships or social intent, for example).

Any specific situation may have barriers to being read clearly. This is true even of mundane situations not expected to have magical influence. Sometimes, a certain situation, person, or concept will be shielded from view - and that can have nothing to do with the reader or querent.

Celestial timing may be a factor. Things like moon phase, time of year, or time of day can sometimes influence people's abilities to easily connect or easily interpret cards. Try paying attention to timing as part of note-taking and see if that's a factor.

Caffeine, drugs, alcohol, and rest can be a factor. Once I reach a certain level of fatigue (usually before bedtime) I can't read at all. Caffeine can sometimes also "close the veil" for me and limit me from being able to interpret readings. It might not be a factor for everyone, but it's something to pay attention to!

For practitioners, metaphysical workings can use up all available energy for divination. I find that my "pool" of magical energy feeds both my divination and my spellwork. Exhausting myself in one area (such as doing lots of energy work exercises) means I have exhausted myself in another area (no juice left for readings).

Witchcraft and Magic

Spells and wards can affect your ability to perform divination, sometimes in weird and unexpected ways. Go through spell notes to see if there is a chance prior, ongoing spells may be messing with your ability to read on certain questions. A big giveaway is when divination doesn't seem to work well specifically within a warded area, but this isn't a strict rule.

Prepare a place of reading, or reading cloth, enchanted to assist with finding answers. By consecrating and tending to such a place, such as a divinatory altar or divinatory reading mat, powers of far seeing, truth, and accuracy can be accumulated and much more easily raised. For those that have the space, a full divinatory altar can be an extraordinary tool. For such places, especially consider the power of symbols which open roads and gates.

Prepare a Charm of True Reading. Find, or develop, a small rhyme, charm, or prayer that calls on powers which support you and requests that your upcoming reading be clear and true. Repeat this before each reading, as desired.

Prepare an oil. A skin-safe carrier oil steeped with bay laurel, star anise, and lavender; or just bay leaf if the grocery store fails you, can be enchanted (especially under the full moon) to assist with opening the second sight and securing more accurate readings. Dab some on your forehead, ideally along with the Charm of True Reading.

Prepare a head covering. For some people, covering the head and/or partially blocking vision, can assist with entering divinatory headspace and with the receipt of visions and intuitive connections. As much as I like fancy things, I often end up using sunglasses and a hat. Being in a dark room might help as well, especially if you can get a candle in there.

Prepare incense. Here again bay laurel, star anise, and lavender can serve if you're able to powder and burn your own blends (remember to enchant them); but an enchanted stick of commercial incense will be fine (in any scent). Enchant the incense for the purpose of casting away doubt and influences that cause ill-sight, and to create an energetic haven where answers readily arrive to be interpreted by you, the reader.

Cast a circle. If you like to write your own rituals, especially focus on the concept of the circle being a liminal space between time that connects the worlds, almost like Grand Central Station where many threads of fate (and information) meet.

Consecrate your deck. Use any consecration ritual you like, but especially one that employs powers supportive of divination, true seeing, and psychism. This is almost certainly best done on a full moon. Consecrate your deck to be a tool which can peer into the threads of fate on your behalf, and then only reflect absolute truth back to you.

Enchant a tool to nurture and safeguard your decks. A lovely amethyst stone or clear quartz (or any variety of stone, bought or found), maybe one marked as special by putting it in a handy net, can be enchanted to be a protector of any deck it sits on. The value of this is to keep the deck enthroned in an additional layer of protection against untruth, but also to keep it bathed in energy related to divination and psychism. For those worried about decks getting magically "dirty," this is a good solution.

Also, cleansing decks sometimes is necessary, but it can be an easy operation. I find that spreading the entire deck face-down and mixing up all the cards in a big pile provides an adequate cleansing much of the time.

Spirit Work

Show your deck some love by providing it with offerings and a shrine, just as you would for an honored spirit. If the shrine isn't possible, an offering is excellent - maybe once weekly or monthly (depending on how often you use it), and even a small offering before each reading is useful. In my beliefs, this action goes far beyond making a deck happy with you - it can provide real, tangible effects on energy drain and the 'power' of your readings.

Petition gods, ancestors, or helper spirits. Beyond a Charm of True Reading, simply praying to helpful and benevolent powers to provide an assist can be really helpful. This is also an important way to develop a relationship with a guiding divinatory power. Speaking of which,

Get in good with a god or spirit who is associated with divination, psychism, etc. The Moon itself is a very solid choice. Apollo can see the future, and his buddy Bay Laurel (whom itself can be worked with as a divinatory spirit) can pack quite the punch. The dead are often said to be very good at helping with divination, but necromancy isn't for everyone. A witch who wants to become powerful in the ways of divination is wise to seek out helper spirits who are very good at this task.

Don't forget the gods and spirits of the thing you want to read on. If I wanted to know whether or not selling something online is worth the trouble, I might not just ask a far-seeing spirit to help me. I might also petition Hermes to grant me special insight into his domain. You can even use other spells you've cast (such as a prosperity spell) as a "foothold" into a certain area, but that's a whole topic in and of itself.

From time to time, a spirit may cause trouble. Divination can sometimes be interfered with by spirits who are upset with us. General offerings to appease offended spirits, or to make nice with the spiritual neighborhood around you, are well undertaken. They can be done even if you don't know that you've actually upset anyone.

#answered #divination #tarot #witchcraft #spirit work #tbl

[johnnys-breastmilk]

Steve Harrington x Male reader — So like, your boyfriends, which is a surprise in itself cause like steve didn’t think he’d fall for a guy, but you find yourselfs in the back of “family video” fucking, STEVE IS BLOWING YOUR BACK OUT- this could include (before hand) and assemble of touching, shy chaste kisses and sarcastic (but cute comments) which leads to steve punishing your sorry ass in the back (riding him-) 🫣

yasss lemme put u on somethin' (also sorry for this being late, writer's block do be kicking my ass into next tuesday)

a/n — this has some crackfic to it, but to be fair, Stranger Things is full of crackfic humor sooooo

warnings — 18+! Smut, Steve blowing your back out with his massive-

words — 1.84k

summary — check the request!

~~~

The slowly repeated clack of one sole computer key bringing down the equally slowly refreshing digital screen set the tone for the imminently stale afternoon: utter boredom. Each name flickered on the digitizer as your eyes trailed along the lines of information, checking one vital row running down the screen in solid green lettering—the account holders of Family Video's current rentals and if they were overdue to return any of them. 

Surprisingly, the lessees renting videos from the store managed to indemnify everything on time, making your job a slog since everyone was responsible when presented with a deadline. You were looking for people who refused to return what they borrowed for whatever arbitrary reason they listed and calling to convince them to remit the fines.

What was less of a surprise was that it didn't bring much joy to scroll through the hundreds of names of the residents of Hawkins that all had an account at this here neon-consumed video store. There were far too many people to actually get through the list in one day, let alone the last couple hours of your shift. 

It could have gone faster if two people were plowing through the list, but Steve, on the other hand, seemed to be having a blast restocking the final few shelves in the store with different videotapes. You gave your eyes a break from the straining blue light by looking over to check on his progress, praying that he was nearly done furnishing the shelves to help you with this, to which he was still hunched over, placing cheesy romance movies of all kinds along the bottom row. 

You were about to get back to the grind of checking for overdue rentals when something from earlier in your shift urged you to connect the mental dots that formed in your brain. Your shift rotation started at noon, and you had arrived only to dash to the back to check for any new shipments as a new feature film had finally hit video, and you had no plans to miss out on being the first to own a copy. Not only did you love the movie, but you wanted to get it for you and Steve to watch together. Regardless, nothing new had arrived, and the back room was full of boxes containing dozens of restocks for every movie you could think of, along with their corresponding promotional posters. 

Returning to the front area of the store, you found Robin and Steve chatting in between the shelves for romance and comedy as Steve filled the bottom ledge with a few boxed films before inconspicuously pulling them off of it and placing them back into the cardboard box they shipped in. That would mean that Steve had been purposefully cycling through the same work all day, avoiding the worst tasks required by the job's standards.

You turned on your chair, smugly leaning over the forest-shaded counter with your arms easily sliding into place over the other to give you an equally derisive look to match. In a jeering tone, you teased your co-worker, "Didn't you already stock that area, Harrington?"

He turned to look at you, the harsh neon-orange lighting of the display shaming the half of him facing away from you as it competed with the golden glow from the front windows. He hung his head in defeat, admitting under a low mumble, "Yeah."

You pressed on, "Then why are you doing it again?"

Steve returned to placing each tape on the shelf, "To memorize the titles."

"I thought you didn't like romance movies? You always said that your hair had 'more charm than a prince on the screen.'"

"And I thought I didn't like guys, but here we are."

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"Okay, what's up? Did King Steve finally lose the title of employee of the month? Or run out of Faberge products this morning?" He finished stocking the shelf for what you guessed was for the second time that day, and your eyes followed as he stood and paced over to the check-out counter with a vexing look on his face. 

"Don't disrespect the hair," Steve spoke, setting down the vacant box in his hands and pointing a single finger to his carefully cared-for hair. 

You were leaning far enough over the counter to stretch your arm out to the nape of Steve's neck, ushering it further northbound into the mess of his dewy yet soft hair and pulling him closer to you until he was a short breath away, "What's the real reason, Steve?" 

“Do I really have to say it?" Steve uttered quietly with a hint of snark and raised his shoulders in defense, letting them fall as he admitted how he felt, "I’m bored at work.”

You waved what he said off as you spoke, distancing yourself from him as you casually fell back into the stool near the computer, “With me around? Never.”

A glint of something more rose to the gloss of Steve's eyes, reflecting in the neon lighting lining the walls—an idea had come to him, but you didn't know what it could be. “You’re right—hey, uh, can you help me with a new shipment in the back?”

Your brows knitted together faster than a grandma determined to make the itchiest Christmas sweater imaginable. Somehow, both seemed unpleasant on you as you spoke, "But I didn't see anything earlier."

He neared the entrance to the storage room, turning on his heel and letting his back softly press against the door, "I know, but there's something else you could help me unpack."

"Steve Harrington, you are insane," You mused while shooting up and rounding the shaded counter, closing in on Steve as he backed into the door of the supply closet, a hand of his embracing the small of your back as the other reached for the handle. He flung the door open and pulled you into the small room meant for new shipments and stock, not bothering to shut it. Guiding you to a few stray and scarcely stocked shelves next to the door, Steve reached down to fish out a condom from the pocket of his flares before carelessly throwing it onto the rack behind you and attacking your neck with aggressive kisses.

You turned your head to give him better access, leaving the open door in plain sight. Keeping the room visible was risky, for one thing. No one would be at the counter to ring someone up, and anyone with a curious eye could stumble into the room and see what was happening. But it was a slow day, and Steve was anything but slow when it came to getting his hands on you. He parted from your supple neck, and within seconds, you had rid each other of the dark green vests and underlying shirts, leaving the both of you exposed from the waist up. 

You pulled him in for a quick buss as your hands traversed his bushy chest and along the line of hair trailing down his abdomen until you reached the buckle of his pants. Loosening Steve's flares—which grew increasingly tighter with each second of contact that passed—proved to be an easy task, and with that, his boxers went down with the rough denim and bunched at his ankles.

There was a brief moment where you eyed his cock and realized that Steve's glory days could be traced back to the thing between his legs; being a massive dick in high school really reflected what he was packing his pants, and what he sported was a heavy hitter—just like him on the baseball team, as he could make you see the same stars he aimed to hit every home run to at each game. From the tip of his thick slugger to his sagging baseballs, Steve Harrington was perfect.

"Let me see that ass," Steve ordered, flipping you around so that your hands rested on the cold shelves behind you as he shoved down your pants.

He stretched a hand past you to reach for the rubber idly waiting on the shelf, his hand disappearing out of view. Only the sounds following it could inform you of what was happening from behind, being a tear of the packaging and a slight hiss of air before the soft crinkle of the rubber unfurling down his length.

"Guess extra-large isn't enough," Steve remarked, admiring how the lubed elastic barely managed to reach the base of his cock, the dark hair surrounding it meeting the taut ring at the bottom.

You turned your head, looking back to him, "Really? I guess you can't read because that says it's small." 

He took a step forward, his hand cupping the folds of your ass, "You wish it was." 

Steve removed one hand to get a hold of his girth, slipping himself past your cheeks with ease and towards your hole. A sudden jolt of sharp pain from your back-end sent you forward, going limp against the rack of shelves you leaned on for support, the palm of your hand coming down atop the surface of the metal with one hard smack and an ensuing moan. For as big as Steve was, you were surprised that his previous endeavors in the bedroom hadn't left your ass used to his thickness.

He pumped inch after inch into your ass, watching as your hole stretched wide for his shaft, which was a far cry from the tip of his cock, needing much more courage to take the further he went. While his impressive size clouded your mind, your own pleasure trudged through the fog, searching for something to take hold of. Steve didn't waste any time burying himself into you, though, and a hand took hold of your cock, stroking it with a single hand. His other hand, however, claimed the spot next to yours on the shelf, using it for stability as his movements inside you became greedy.

Steve repeatedly buried himself deep into you, addicted to the sounds of his skin smacking against yours when he bottomed out with each swing of his hips. It seemed like each one was a tick to count the moments building to the mounting climax inside him, and his increasingly louder noises only proved that theory. Minutes passed, and you started to feel the same.

Like rewinding a watched video tape, Steve was sick of being stuck at the end and holding off for his own pleasure. With a few final thrusts, he spilled himself out inside the rubber confines and kept pumping your shaft until you did the same. Your load splashed over the empty shelf sitting inches below your crotch, meeting your knees as they buckled against it.

Steve was quick to pull himself out of you, shucking off the condom filled with his load, placing it on the shelf, and was standing in the empty stock room. You shifted around to face him, "What are you doing, Harrington?"

"I just—" He paused, "—can't believe that really happened."

#steve harrington #steve harrington x male!reader #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x male reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #joe keery #joe keery x reader #joe keery x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #no use of y/n #stranger things smut #st 4 #st smut #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic

[secondhandsorrows]

Some Vital Scenes to Include in a Romantic Subplot, Pt. 2

Back at it again with part two of some scenes to consider adding for a romance subplot. Before we get into it, just a brief reminder that everyone’s story is different. Take that as you will. I find these helpful for planning and keeping a solid foundation for a compelling romance. There's probably a lot more I'm missing out. Some of these tips, I'm thinking, could even be helpful for writing a platonic friendship, in cases like making mistakes or helping each other through tough times.

If there's anything you would like add or share about this process or some of the things that have helped you, let me know! ~

- Moments of intimacy:

This is rather similar to our last point about flirting, but what I’m trying to get across here is the things that are not said. The unspoken. The unmentionables, if we wanna go there. But I’m getting ahead of myself… this is the kind of scene that can be built up gradually as the romance between your characters grows and deepens. Moments of intimacy in a romance subplot involve deeper and more meaningful interactions between the characters, showcasing their emotional closeness. They include physical closeness, such as hugs, touches, or moments of shared proximity. 

It doesn’t have to be all touchy-feely, either. These scenes also might include gazing at the stars, a shared adventure, a sudden desire to reach out but chickening out at the last second, or a quiet moment of understanding during a tough situation. These gestures can convey a sense of comfort or safety. Intimate moments can also build anticipation and tension in the narrative, where readers may eagerly await these little, momentous moments as they read and become more invested in their relationship. 

- Helping each other out:

Nothing get me more invested in a romance than those moments where the characters offer support, assistance, or guidance to each other, thus reinforcing their bond and showcasing the strength of their connection. Also, while helping each other, the characters can also encourage independence and growth in each other. They can encourage each other’s goals and aspirations, allowing each other to maintain their own unique identity within the relationship. 

The characters could also perform acts of kindness, be it big or small — showing to the other character how much they care without explicitly stating it. There’s an element of vulnerability that can be explored here, in which the characters share experiences and insights good and bad — offering each other solace during hard times and joy during the best of times. 

Some examples!

- Character A solving a problem in a way that only they would know or character B wouldn’t have thought of in the first place. 

- Character B being understanding and listening without judgement to A’s opening up and venting.

- Character A offering support and clear-headed advice to B, who tends to get irrational. On the other hand, B standing up for A and protecting them from harm. 

- Character B teaching a new, valuable skill to A, thus providing great opportunity for them to get closer and connect. 

- Mistakes or misunderstandings:

Like many others, I’m not a big fan of miscommunication in romantic arcs … unless they’re resolved quickly (because they tend to be predictable, sometimes, or just frustrating when there's every opportunity for them to reconcile but they're ignoring it because drama).

Ahem. But, characters should be allowed to make mistakes and learn from them. It’s realistic, because who hasn’t made a mistake at least once in their life? Not every budding relationship is ever perfect. It’s rewarding to see characters learn from their errors and work towards a mutual understanding or reconciliation. This helps to show their emotional maturity and resilience, especially if its gradual or important for their character arc.

Narrative elements that introduce complications (often arising from bad impressions, flaws, insecurities, awkward moments, mistakes, or even just being at the wrong place at the wrong time) can add tension to the relationship while providing space for growth. When used right, this can add deeper strength to your characters’ bond as they eventually overcome the bumps along the road of romance. It’s always interesting to see how characters might react in certain situations, for better or for worse. This is also a great point as to force your characters to confront their true feelings and be able to recognize them or communicate them better.

- Declaration of feelings:

Finally! The moment we’ve all been waiting for! This is the special moment where one or both characters express their romantic feelings for each other, marking a significant turning point in the subplot that often dictates how the story would then play then on out. Think about how you want your “declaration” scene to play out and what emotions you want to invoke. Is it elation? Anguish? Confusion? Excitement? Sadness? I mean, not every declaration scene has to be perfect. It all depends on the story you’re wanting to tell, how focused you want your romantic subplot to be, and what your characters are like. 

Also consider how your characters are feeling in that moment and what brought them there. Have your characters been waiting for this moment for a long time now? Is it risky? Easy for them to declare their feelings out loud? Could it also be just not the right moment, so hopefully later their love will be fully understood and reciprocated? Just some helpful things to consider. 

#writing advice #creative writing #writing #fiction #writing tips #on writing #character #story tips #writeblr #bookblr #books #romance #lovestory #romantic subplot #subplot #writers on tumblr #writers and poets #writerscommunity #writer stuff #story conflict #writing process #writer #fiction writing #writing help

[wolfnanaki]

Player Agency and the End of the World

Goodbye Volcano High begins in a fascinating way. You start in media res, with a group of teenagers gathered around a bonfire on the beach. The point-of-view character, Fang, is holding a yearbook, and the others are discussing whether or not the book should be burnt. The player is then presented with two choices: “Hold on” and “Let go”. Once the choice is made, the game sends the story back eight months ago.

On the surface, it seems to be a smart way to communicate the player’s amount of agency in the choices they can make. There’s a suggestion that you have so much agency that even before the story has properly begun, you can change a huge, important outcome for which the context will be revealed to you at a later, triumphant moment. When that choice, and all the ones you made before, finally come into play.

And then the rest of the game brilliantly destroys that illusion of control.

One of the biggest criticisms Goodbye Volcano High has faced since launch is that there’s only one ending, and therefore, none of the choices the player makes matter. Despite most games only having one ending anyway, there’s a different expectation when it comes to choice-based narrative games. The player’s choices must be so impactful, so game-changing that there can be multiple endings based on them.

It's a genre standard when it comes to visual novels, dating sims, and the like. And it feels like Goodbye Volcano High is being seen and critiqued as a visual novel, despite developers KO_OP never claiming it to be one. This is a cinematic narrative game. The goals and gameplay are entirely different. You wouldn’t expect a cinematic game to follow the conventions of a visual novel any more than you would demand a car to be more like a mountain bike.

There’s a recurring theme in Goodbye Volcano High’s narrative about learning to let go. It’s a story about teenagers having their futures being robbed from them in real time because of circumstances well beyond their control. But the theme also comes up with Fang’s relationship with their best friend Trish, where Fang desperately tries to hold on to Trish when she’s trying to move on from the band to pursue her goal of being an entomologist.

As Fang, you can make many choices to improve your relationship with Trish. Favor her at every opportunity you can over everyone else, save Mango when she gets lost at school, play L&L with her and show how well you two work together, take on more burdens in the band so she doesn’t have to work so hard. Anything, everything to make sure Trish stays close.

None of this can change the outcome. Trish will still want to take a break from the band. And no matter how close or how distant the two are at the time, Fang will still take it poorly. Just like the asteroid ending the dinosaurs, this is an outcome the player can’t change.

Yet, the player does have agency.

Almost every choice the player makes affects the characters’ relationship with Fang, as measured by the game’s Affinity chart. It’s pulled up every time the player pauses the game, and visually shows how close each character is, emotionally, to Fang. They orbit an icon of Fang’s face, and the closer they orbit to Fang, the stronger their connection is. How close they are impacts many game-related unlocks, including flashbacks and photos, that you’d otherwise miss if you failed to foster certain relationships enough.

More vitally, the player’s choices can unlock different secret scenes throughout the game. Choosing to take Sage’s ambitions for being a chef seriously gives him the confidence to open up to Fang about his struggles with transitioning. Choosing to apologize to Naser for lashing out at him causes him to later come backstage at Battle of the Bands to give Fang some encouraging words. Choosing to sit with Rosa and Trish at the auditorium causes Rosa to meet up with Fang at their locker and engage in kind small-talk, showing Fang that she’s not trying to sabotage Fang and Trish’s friendship. These moments are all over, and they’re rewarding, as they give bigger context for who these characters are and what they see in each other.

Who Fang is closest to also changes who they can talk to after the bonfire argument in episode seven. It’s the final chance for the player to get some closure for each character, after everything they’ve been through and what they’re about to go through.

The choices matter to the characters, not to the player.

And finally, the player’s first choice comes back into play. If the player chose to “Let go”, they will see Fang drop the book into the fire. But if they chose “Hold on”, Fang will hesitate, and someone (either Trish, Naomi, or Naser) will encourage them to go through with it. No matter what you chose at the start, the book is burnt.

You can’t change the book’s fate any more than you can change the dinosaurs’ fate.

You can’t save them any more than they could have saved themselves.

The best you can do is bring them happiness and something that feels like closure before the end.

The choices mean nothing, yet mean everything.

So, if you felt that loss of control at this point, like nothing matters… congratulations, that’s exactly how the characters felt too. You are experiencing ART.

This, I think, is why tragedy stories need to be told more, especially in games. We live in an era where happy endings aren’t just expected, but demanded. “You can’t hurt or kill these characters! I love them too much!” Stories where beloved characters suffer, die, or otherwise don’t end up with a happy ending often lead to discontent and the creators receiving backlash.

And it’s frustrating to me as an aspiring writer and critic. If creatives aren’t allowed to tell all the kinds of stories they want, tragic or otherwise, then we leave it in the hands of corporate content mills to feed us bland, milquetoast stories where things pan out exactly as we expect them to with cheap fanservice (hello, comic book movies). As an audience, we are left unchallenged. It’s strange because people call out that kind of shallow media for what it is and demand better, but bristle at stories that go the distance. It’s like how people say they’re tired of cute, passive women in games and want them to be more assertive, but freak out when Princess Peach gets a slightly more determined expression on some box art.

This is why I think we need to make more games that push against preconceived notions. Goodbye Volcano High, at least from my perspective, shows the kind of stories that games can – and maybe should – be telling more, using the medium of the genre to invoke feelings you wouldn’t get by just watching someone else play it. If you’ve only experienced this game through YouTube clips or streams, I implore you to try it for yourself. It’s a very different experience, and I think a worthwhile one.

And also: I wouldn't want to live in a world where the asteroid misses depending on how nice Fang is to everyone. Imagine the discourse.

#Nanaki's Thoughts #Goodbye Volcano High #GVH #KO_OP #indie games #video games #I had to delete and reupload because of reasons

[atthebell]

i think one thing that's always been interesting to me is that people really believe/take for granted that the federation's goal is the islanders' happiness, when we really don't have any way of knowing if that's the truth. cucurucho says it a lot, claiming to care about islanders' happiness above all else, and it's been scattered throughout some federation lore (as well as being hinted at with the reset cinematics), but that doesn't mean it's actually true-- it could still be a smokescreen of what they really want. which, imo, is not happiness.

if it's all one big experiment, supposedly one of many, the idea that this one is the one that involves seeing what happens when islanders are happy is not a provable thing still, nor is it clear what that actually means to the federation. does happiness mean the islanders are content to remain on the island? does happiness mean building relationships and connecting with others? does happiness mean self-fulfillment (something deeply immeasurable)? it's not clear what it means to the federation, nor if that is their true goal. it could be that that has nothing to do with their goal, and is a complete misdirect. it could be that cucurucho's prime directive is the islanders' happiness (not that it's very good at that), but that's meant as a tactic to stymie islander curiosity/resistance. it could be any number of things.

and i think viewing it from a more meta lens of "we cannot tell what is or is not the truth; not only are all character povs biased but so is the larger narrative presented to us." i think comparing this framework to something like the good place is helpful, in that when you assume that what you're presented with is the truth and don't look at the setting critically, you will miss the fact that things presented to you as fact by any kind of source (including the framework of the medium itself or the established setting) are suspect and should be examined further.

i can even put it in a smaller way; there are ways within a limited character pov to present things as directly happening when they are not, and these are ways that mcrp creators have utilized. playing out an event that did not actually happen, canonical hallucinations, dream sequences that are not explained as such, physical representations of metaphorical experiences, etc. etc. are ALL things that mcrp creators of done. tricking your audience is an incredibly interesting and at times vital part of mcrp. so if just one creator within their own pov can do it, why can't the whole narrative? why can't you be convinced you're in a different genre, why can't you be convinced that the physical location your characters are placed in is someplace that isn't?

all this to say, i think a major issue in terms of analyzing media like this is allowing yourself to go along with assumptions without thinking about why you're falling so easily into them as truth. making all of your lore assumptions based off the notion that it is objective fact that the federation cares about and has the goal of islanders' happiness means you are going to miss details and fixate on others without looking at the full scope of possibilities. which i think was a serious issue during the height of investigation/mystery stuff-- people fell into the trap of "i KNOW this to be true" without considering the man behind the curtain. sure, cellbit found documents indicating that the federation was founded on isla quesadilla-- considering who sent him on the trail of said documents, who's to say that that's the truth?

i think bagi is a particularly interesting investigator when it comes to this kind of thing-- she's VERY good at holding onto a lot of different possibilites in her mind, even going so far as to act on a lot of them at once, and that means she doesn't take anything for granted. having all of the data in front of you, without attempting to skew it to a theory you already have in mind (which i admit is very difficult to do! humans are biased and are geared towards pattern recognition), is an important skill when it comes to any kind of data analysis or investigation.

anyway idk where i was going with this i just started thinking about like. what is involved in good theorizing and how focusing on something you believe to be fact can lead you in the wrong direction, and i think the idea of the islander's happiness as the federation's main goal is one of those very fraught assumptions people get caught up in.

#bell.txt #qsmp analysis

[literary-illuminati]

Book Review 65 – System Collapse by Martha Wells

I’ve had this on preorder long enough to have entirely forgotten about it by the time I got the email that it’s available for pickup – but thanks to the magic of an extremely obliging local book store, I was still able to pick up and read the entire thing before it’s technically released. So score one for buying indie, I guess.

The book is set directly after Network Effect – directly directly, to the point where I needed to look up a plot summary to remind myself what the situation was – following our beloved rogue and rampant SecUnit, ART, and their assorted humans as they try to convince an abandoned and alien-contaminated colony’s inhabitants to trust them and accept evacuation with them (and also go along with the colonial charter they’re forging) rather than the indenture offers the corporate mission also on site are offering. Along the way there’s hacking, shuttle chases, gunfights, and plot-critical media curation.

Mostly though it’s about Murderbot having PTSD (on account of all the horrible trauma in Network Effect specifically, and also just its life generally) and absolutely zero idea how to cope. After a false memory/panic attack makes it crash out of nowhere it spends the majority of the book terrified that it’s going to crash or freeze up at some vital moment and get everyone killed, dealing with constant alien-related paranoia, and generally second-guessing itself and feeling useless and depressed. Absolutely no one around it has any idea how to deal with this, and their awkward attempts to be supporting are both endearing and entirely unhelpful.

Anyway, this is a Murderbot novel. Do you like Murderbot? Then you will like this. Do you not know the series? Then by god start with All Systems Red none of this will make any sense at all without context. Do you dislike murderbot? I mean hateread as you like but it is largely more of the same, don’t expect any series-saving twists for you.

It’s kind of absurd to call the series ‘cozy fantasy’ – by the end of the book SecUnit is down several extremities and bleeding out on the floor (as is traditional by this point) – but I feel like the series fills about the same emotional niche for me as like say Becky Chambers does for people with normal tolerances for low-tension sentimentality. The setting is a horrible dystopia and the plots are full of violence and trauma, but all that is more or less set dressing to stories that are actually about SecUnit making connections and deciding at a tortuously slow pace what sort of life it wants to have (usually several hours after commuting itself without thinking) while consistently running into the best possible friends and forming mutually affectionate relationships it absolutely did not want. It’s a story about fun, low-tension character dynamics, corporate kill teams aside.

I am being entirely sincere when I say the fact that SecUnit has no idea what it wants or what its doing is a selling point. In the same way, the fact that there’s never any real ~breakthrough~ or moment of sudden recovery is absolutely key to the book working. The story closes with it being hopeful and doing better but from any remotely reasonable baseline still being pretty far from ‘okay’ (in much the same way, it is utterly vital to the whole series that it has absolutely zero angst over ‘not being human’ or pinochle syndrome and only cares about ‘not being normal’ insofar as its had to work really hard on some automated scripts for walking and idle motions to pass as human while doing infiltration work).

Anyway, speaking of character dynamics – look, I’ve always been the first to roll my eyes when people complain about not being able to keep tracks or large casts. But every time I open one of these books, I realize I have only the vaguest idea who the vast majority of the (human) supporting cast is. Not really an issue with actually following the story, but I’m absolutely certain I’m missing out on some things.

The non-human supporting cast are great though. ART best spaceship, and I cared significantly more about the colony’s central control computer than any of the actual colonists. I’m like 70% sure this is intentional.

Stepping back, it’s interesting how the series’ setting has evolved over time. In All Systems Red the universe around SecUnit was incredibly broadly sketched, generic sci f playing with space opera and cyberpunk tropes it pretty much relied upon readers already being familiar with. This never exactly stops – especially for the aesthetics and technology, the book has a profound lack of interest in the specifics of what ‘projectile weapons’ look like or how spaceships work beyond the convenience of plot – but as the books go on the world definitely gets more specific and also broader. You can mostly blame ART for this, I think – there’s a definite shift in the tone of the setting when you introduce an institution like the University with power like it can throw around, and more generally make active resistance to and subversion to the corporate status quo a plausible and fruitful endeavour.

All this to say that there’s an offhand mention at one point about ‘intracorporate violence’ increasing and the system being increasingly unstable, and I’m curious what Wells is going to do with that going forward. Especially with the book’s final resolution and the status quo it sets up going forward.

Anyway like I said, it’s murderbot. This is the 7th book in the series. If you’re considering reading it you’ll probably love it.

#book review #system collapse #murderbot #martha wells #sff

[dailymanners]

Hello, Stranger. By Will Buckingham. Granta; 336 pages; £16.99 The Power of Strangers. By Joe Keohane. Random House; 352 pages; $28. Viking; £16.99 Fractured. By Jon Yates. Harper North; 348 pages; $28.99 and £20

ATTITUDES TO STRANGERS tend to follow a familiar pattern. Children are taught never to speak to unknown grown-ups, especially those regarded by their parents as untrustworthy. The onset of adolescence and young adulthood brings a bursting desire to interact with all sorts of people, particularly the kind who might not elicit family approval. Whether the resulting encounters are sexual or social, they confer a thrilling frisson of escape.

Social circles generally narrow again as people find life-partners, form households and produce offspring of their own. Time becomes scarce; new friendships are often based on sharing the burden of child care. Some people never recover the youthful zest for unforeseen liaisons. Professional duties swell even as parental ones diminish, and the inclination sags. In old age, even if curiosity and charisma remain undimmed, frailty makes new serendipitous connections harder to establish.

But that is not the whole story. In mid-life and beyond people can still experience the joy of a random meeting, however short, which somehow touches a nerve. That might involve nothing more than a smile, or a chance remark that hits an emotional spot; or it might be an unexpectedly deep conversation on a plane or train, a surge of mutual understanding that is life-affirming even if the interlocutor is never seen again. This aspect of the promise and peril of strangers has enticed storytellers—from the rapture of “Brief Encounter” and “Before Sunrise” to the ruin of “Strangers on a Train”. The knowledge that the exchange will be a one-off can permit a delicious, uninhibited frankness.

In the age of covid-19 and Zoom, the chronological pattern has been warped. Instead of their hazy possibilities and risks, strangers have assumed an all-too-literal role as a looming source of infection. During lockdowns they are officially to be avoided. Yet youngsters still long, dangerously, for the ecstasy of communion, not just with edgy individuals but anonymous crowds. People of all ages have come to miss the human stimulation of busy high streets or trains, or the comforting sense of fellowship in a cinema or theatre audience.

So this is an apt moment for three books about meeting strangers. Will Buckingham has written a moving memoir of finding solace, after the death of his life-partner, in travelling and talking in lands such as Myanmar that are culturally distant from his native England. Joe Keohane, an American journalist, argues that communicating empathetically with strangers is vital and potentially life-changing. Jon Yates, who runs a youth charity based in London, frets that deep fissures in Western societies are making it impossible for people to reach, even casually, between classes, religions, ethnicities and generations.

All three authors make sweeping generalisations about the evolution of human society, from hunter-gatherers to the age of Homer and beyond. But they are more interesting when they reflect, using personal experience or scientific research, on how people live and communicate now. In different ways, they all make two separate but related points. First, interacting meaningfully with a new person can bring huge rewards—but it is a skill that must be cultivated and can easily be lost. Second, the self-segregation of modern Western societies means that, for many people, conversing with some fellow citizens seems pointless, undesirable or outlandish. The second problem exacerbates the first: if you consider others beyond the pale, why make the effort to get to know them?

. . .

Mr Buckingham focuses on the pleasures and pitfalls of encounters in remote places where the stakes are lower because the acquaintanceships are bound to be temporary—in a holiday flat-share in Helsinki or while travelling through the Balkans. But, like the other two, he notes that wariness of unfamiliar people is neither new nor insuperable.

Faces look ugly when you’re alone

Mr Keohane and Mr Yates offer tips on befriending strangers. . . Mr Yates discusses the case for a kind of national social service that would encourage youngsters to mix with other groups and generations. Both have homely micro-solutions that readers can apply in daily relations—assume the best of others, remember that most have stories they are longing to tell, react philosophically when a friendly approach is rebuffed.

A telling point that none of the books captures is a paradoxical one: some of the most sophisticated forms of interaction between strangers occur in societies that are chronically divided. Think, for example, of rural Northern Ireland, or of parts of the former Ottoman Empire, such as Lebanon, where residents have lived in separate communal silos. In ways impenetrable to outsiders, the denizens of such places develop perfect antennae for the affiliation of a stranger and adjust their remarks accordingly. The ensuing exchanges occur within well-understood parameters—including a sense that social categories are resilient and pleasantries will not change them. But tact allows people from antagonistic camps to have amicable encounters and transactions.

All three authors are inclined to overstate the ability of brief interactions to stave off conflict. Yet at least this much is true: a capacity to engage with new people in civilised, humane and meaningful ways is a necessary condition for social peace, even if it is not a sufficient one. That points up a half-hidden cost of covid-19. Children educated on screen; teenagers bouncing off the walls; adults working at home; lonely pensioners: more or less everyone’s social skills have been atrophying, with consequences not only for individuals but, perhaps, for the fabric of society.

As lockdowns lift, people are now stumbling back into a world of accidental collisions, some eagerly, some queasily, most with an odd sensation of novelty after a year of hibernation. The lesson of these books is that the easing of restrictions is not just a coveted opportunity to reconnect with those you love and resemble. It also restores a freedom, long taken for granted even if little used, to come to know the profoundly different. ■

#there are definitely things in this article I don't fully agree with #but the core message #be civil when you're in public around strangers #is something I can agree with

[clockwayswrites]

OKAY, so I have been rereading some of your stuff, as anyone with a wonderful taste does /j. And I got to the One Stop Soup Shop? I hope that titles right lmao; anyway. So rereading that, and I got to the part where Jason and Danny are talking right after Jason wakes up, right? And I managed to overlook it for the first few rereads but the conversation where Danny is explaining what he used to be and what Jason is now makes me think of a couple different theories on what Danny could be now? Because he's almost, or he is implying, he isn't a Halfa anymore.

So, Fascinating. And I have a couple theories on that? So; here they are,

My first thought was Danny is the ghost version of a liminal. Like the opposite of a liminal. Ghost with human traits, instead of a Human with ghostly traits.

My second one was that whoever had him/captured him basically forced him, either permanently or until something can be done ie with Frostbite the yeti doctor or some other means, into his Ghost form, unable to turn back into human/living form.

My third was that, on the basis that a halfas core is connected to their heart, they tore Danny's heart out from the core, Either by the Fentons misguided attempts at believing Phantom was hiding in their now dead-from-the-portal-opening boys body, so taking his heart out to both kill Phantom, seeing him as some kind of parasite now, and allow Danny to be laid to rest, or the GIW got him, saw it, was wishing to experiment on it, did so, and when Danny was escaping, he tried grabbing it, and the pieces wouldn't rejoin, having been apart for a little too long, leaving Danny as this Halfa Husk, almost but not quite. A Core with a human body but missing the most vital piece of being alive, a heart. So he's essentially stranded to be a ghost, unable to turn human without dying slowly, and painfully. Again.

.... As you can see, I am so normal about OSSS. Clearly. Lmao, anyway, yeah I have gone slightly insane but it is so good, it's worth it, honestly. I think i have said enough to last a thousand years about OSSS. But I will leave with the fact that I am so excited to go reread, and spin in my head with OSSS, LBFD and BWAO. Hope you've been taking care of yourself, all the writing and head thinking you've been doing, okay? Great writers must be kept happy or something like that

I had to sit down and reread the first fic of this just to make sure I was thinking right LOL which was enjoyable, so thank you for that. It's always nice to have a reason to reread my own work, even if it's at the cost of your sanity I suppose? ^_^;

Like most of my fics, I have the scaffolding but not necessarily the details. Bobi esp was written more on vibes than on a plan. That said, your third one is closest.

Spoilers, I guess lol

But Jazz talks Danny into revealing Phantom to their parents, who go the route of being convinced that Danny is dead and his corpse is just being puppeted by Phantom. And in their experimentation he tips from being balanced to being more dead. The details I don't know, though your idea of heart is chilling! Basically Danny has a 'living' form that breaths and bleeds and is solid, but it's only that way because he started as a halfa. Unlike before when he had to transform to use some of this powers, he's always basically more ghost than not and so can turn off any of that. And he's still alive in his unique way.

JLD would have a fit meeting him lol.

#askme answeryou #darlingclementines #one stop soup shop #dp x dc #dead on main

[astralspellcaster]

Astrology observations Ⅱ

Hi there! This is the second part of my astro observations. If you haven't checked out the first part, then you may want to take a look after reading this post!

These are only my personal maden observations. If something doesn't resonate with you, see that astrology is complex and we're all unique individuals who use the sign's energy differently. Also some planets' energies are more dominant in the chart than others and they even work differently in every chart.

✧ Mars in Taurus has a really good and an accurate gut feeling. Mars is responsible of energy, drive, passions and actions. Mars is also about personal strategies, what they are and how you follow them. Known as one of the most grounded sign, following the senses comes naturally to them. Venus tules the sign Taurus, which belongs to the category of benefic planets and as a planet, it's particularly sensual. Venus has an influence to their Mars and through this, makes them sensually aware. ♂️

Earth signs are generally in touch with the nature, which gives them a good gut feeling and/or intuition!

✧ Pluto conjuct MC/in the tenth house holds lots of power, especially the power of their own. In the public eye, they may seem kind of intimidating. Their presence is noticeable. They could have an influence on others, because they are perceived as authoritarive and significant. Also, they're possibly the most dominant person in social circles. Generally, they have what it takes to be a tough leader. As they're seen as authoritarive, problems with authority or following the rules usually comes with this placement. This can cause also problems with being in control, especially if Pluto is one of the most dominating celestial body in one's birth chart. A sense of importance may cause them using too much power, even taking more power for themselves from others. Too much power in hands of an individual makes people good at manipulating, and in this case Pluto conjuct MC/in the tenth house could indicate a person with the abilities of a master manipulator. They have a strong sense of ego and its death and rebirth often affects others around them. This Pluto is independent and a bit detached. They really value their freedom and they should remember to respect the freedom of others as well.

My sister has this placement. She also has Uranus in the first house, which makes her kind of uncontrollable by other people. She usually has that look in her face that nothing will really make her back out or even scare her (even if the situation is exact opposite). I have Pluto descending and I no longer wonder why others have been wondering that why are we so different from our natures haha.

✧ In synastry, any planet (often the malefic ones) conjuct South Node somehow triggers the South Node person. The connection could make them both feel drained by other's presence, which is a result of multiple shared past lives. They have shared karma from (a) past life/lives and both they are meant to teach and to take something from each other. They have missing lessons that weren't learned previous lifetime(s). During this lifetime, these lessons must be learned so their souls may begin continuing the spiritual growth. It's vital for greater self-awareness and for their own life path. These kind of karmic connections usually aren't meant to last the whole lifetime.

Still, these connections are as important as all connections. Every individual in your life has something to bring and to take from you for growth in their and in your own spiritual path. Let's appreciate the importance of every being's presence in your life. 🤍

Copyrights! © 2022 Astral Spellcaster

#astrology #astro community #tropical astrology #astrology observations #astro observations #astro notes #astro thoughts #astroblr #natal chart #manifestation #mars in taurus #pluto #midheaven #tenth house #south node #daily tarot #tarot cards #tarotscope #tarot services #oracle

[dp-marvel94]

Becoming

Summary: Throwing up ghosts is just the beginning. First, a ghost that looks exactly like Danny comes through the portal. The memory sharing and body switching are weird. Now the portal inside him is growing and Danny is terrified of what happened once it become too big for his body to contain.

Word Count: 3,312

Also on AO3

Sequel to "An Unconventional Way to Get a Cat", Written in response to this ask I received.

“I just finished your cat acquisition portal au fix and I loved it! Missy my beloved. I can't help but imagine Danny instinctively going invisible and intangible out of sheer 'oh shit' at the end, which would NOT make either of them more calm. Ahdjfkf I also read the end note and I think I speak for everyone in that we would LOVE to hear your deranged ideas <3”

Thanks to @sun-spice for asking. 

This is set staring directly after the last chapter of “An unconventional way to get a Cat.” It is part story outline, part rough scenes. But between the length and the fact that I’m really freaking proud of the ending, I figured I should post it here on AO3. It’s pretty tonally different from the story I wrote for phic phight so I decided it should be it’s own thing as well. So y’all get ready. This is going to be a ride. 😅

It begins with something big, bigger than anything else Danny has felt before pushing its way through the portal. There is a big flash of light as the ghost portal opens through him. As the light dies, Danny finds himself floating and glowing. Suddenly, he is a ghost. 

His sister stands in the bathroom doorway, eyes wide with shock. Danny mirrors her expression, then after a too long pause….

“Am I dead?!”

Jazz says something, just as panicked as him. But… Danny can’t process through the screaming in his own head. His body feels… strange. Too warm and too cool. His chest is too full, despite the lightness in his limbs. And yet…. He feels better, more right than he’s felt since the Accident a week ago.

That is until Danny turns human with another flash of light. With a stumble, he lands on his feet. He stares at his ungloved hands. Completely back to normal…

“Ugh…” Something on the floor behind him groans.

 The boy’s head whips to… a ghost on the floor. It looks like a boy about his age, white haired, in a… strangely familiar jumpsuit.

“What… but that’s-” Jazz, normally so sure sounding, stutters.

At the noise, the ghost's head jerks up. It… his eyes are blown wide, confused and disoriented.

The ghost has Danny’s face. 

Both the siblings shout, fingers pointing, questions drilling. The ghost flinches, popping invisible and fleeing. The look on his face….just as freaked out as Danny and Jazz. 

For a long while, Danny and Jazz throw out ideas about what just happened. Maybe the ghost is some kind of shape shifter? The two have no idea and no way to find out. They definitely are not telling their parents. And how are they supposed to go after the ghost? 

“I can’t… Can we just… forget about this?” Danny finally says, running fingers though his hair. “I just want to finish my cereal, cuddle my cat, and go to bed.” 

Begrudgingly, Jazz agrees.

But there is no forgetting for Danny. Having a ghost that looks just like him flying around the town is weird. Danny has weird dreams, as if he is seeing Amity Park from above. Weird, out-of-nowhere feelings invade at random moments. Thoughts that echo, that feel not quite like his own but somehow unquestionably are. And… memories of green swirling clouds and purple doors. Danny feels… strange. He’s felt weird since the accident but this is something else. An invisible line connects him to… something. A feeling that something vital is missing.

Despite his desperate attempts at control, Jazz’s lessons in breathing techniques, meditation, mindfulness… Danny still throws up ghosts. More animals, even… things that appear almost human. He finds himself in weird dreams of fighting ghosts… even when he’s awake. School starts and he inevitably has to tell Sam and Tucker. The trio encounter the Lunch Lady, and… Danny’s weird ghostly double. This is his first time seeing the ghost since that night Jazz found out about his condition. Looking at the ghost boy is strange. It makes his head hurt, vision oddly doubly like he is staring in a funhouse mirror. An uneasy feeling churns through his insides. Those dreams were never really dreams.

One day Danny blinks and finds himself floating above Amity Park. 

“What, no.” The boy mutters to himself. “I’m not actually here.” He closes his eyes, trying to focus. “I’m in my bedroom, sitting on my bed. The blanket is soft. There’s a clock ticking on my wall.” 

But… he can’t feel the bed under him, can’t hear the clock. The sound of the wind remains stubborn in his ears. 

Danny’s eyes pop open. He… can’t snap himself back to reality. Danny looks down, and the nausea he feels has nothing to do with the portal in his guts. He’s actually here, floating a hundred feet above the park. 

It’s..like just before his look-alike showed up. Danny shivers at the thought. His spectral double…. Did the ghost possess him (semi-possess?) him again? That’s what he and Jazz decided must have happened back then. The ghost came through the portal and was so confused and disoriented, he immediately overshadowed Danny. There hadn’t been a fight for control, no other voice in his head. The ghost must have been too weak and confused to wrestle for control, hence getting thrown out almost immediately.

This almost felt like that. Except… No, something was wrong. He felt light, no human warmth, no pounding in his chest. Before there’d been… an odd calmest. It almost made him sick, remembering how right that moment had felt.

Shaking the feeling away, Danny wobbly flew back to his house. He phased through his window to find…himself freaking out in his room.

His own blue eyes stare at him, wide with confusion. And yet… they flicker green… something behind them is eerily familiar. 

“It’s…you.” “Danny!”

Apparently the ghost switched bodies with him. And his double, Phantom, is no help. 

“I have no idea what’s happening.” Phantom in Danny’s body (and isn’t that a crazy thought) raises his arms. “I don’t even know who I am. All I remember is floating on the other side of the portal, guarding it. Like… the first thing I remember in a pain, a green flash and I was in the Zone in front of the ghost portal!” He shrugged, looking sheepish. “I just knew it was my job to guard it. I wasn’t very good at it though.”

Obviously not with all the ghost animals coming through. 

Danny’s brow furrowed. “Why did you leave?”

Phantom shivered. “The portal… it was… calling me. Or maybe it was something on the other side. I just knew I had to come through.” 

So Phantom had touched the rift. He found himself in the human world. And… suddenly he was with Danny. For just a moment there… it felt like he didn’t exist. There was no Phantom, just… 

“Then we turned human and warm and I was just me again.”

Danny doesn’t know what to make of the story, his stomach twisting with a dozen feelings.

Eventually the two switch back. But now the memory, thought, and emotion sharing is even more intense. The two keep switching places. Danny fights the ghost in Phantom’s place. The ghost gets an… oddly familiar taste of Danny Fenton’s life. Inevitably, the two bond, forming an odd friendship through their efforts to hide their weirdness from the Fenton parents and the town as a whole. They find they have a lot in common too. Phantom loves puns as much as Danny does. The human boy’s love of the stars is as great as his ghostly friend’s. Music, books, movies, games. They squeeze so many shared interests into the quieter moments. Sometimes they butt heads because of how similar they are but… overall Danny is happy. Phantom feels like the brother he never had. Maybe the ghost is his twin that he absorbed in the womb. Maybe he’s just a random ghost that he was lucky enough to meet. Either way, it’s nice to have him in his life.

But, things are not all good. The portal is getting worse. More ghosts are coming through. More fights, worse injuries. Phantom’s powers are growing, including new, hard to control ice powers. 

And the portal feels colder too. Danny can feel it swirling. The tenderals spread, wrapping around his bones and organs. It… shines through his skin. He can see it, a ball of neon green below his ribs. It flashes brighter, blinding him every time it opens. And… each time, the spot of light is a little bigger.

One morning, Danny wakes up to a tingling feeling on his skin. Like the occasional invisibility and intangibility he experiences when he’s Phantom but… it's pervasive, spreading from his stomach to the surface. He lifts his shirt and… the portal is there. On his skin? In his skin? Above his skin? It does not make any sense but it is there, bound to him and visible. The size of his fist, it swirls below his rib cage. He brushes it with a finger and… it is like touching his own skin. At the same time, it is like brushing cold mist. His hand sinks in, not intangible but like sticking his hand in a bucket. And he shivers. He can feel it, the cold atmosphere of the Realms on his hand… and the portal swirling around his wrist. He feels his hand brushing the mist and his mist brushing the hand. He is both hand and mist.

Danny rips his hand out, as if he has been burned. Horror sinks into him. What is happening to him?

The switching keeps happening and the portal keeps growing. And Danny is scared. He hides it from his friends and sister. At first, it’s not that hard. A shirt is enough to cover the swirling gate below his ribs. But it spreads onto his shoulder, below his belly button. He switches to long shirts and hoodies. He is nervous and on edge, avoiding his friends, changing the subject whenever Jazz asks what’s wrong.

But there is no hiding from Phantom. Not when half the time Danny’s body is his. The ghost is oddly quiet about the problem. Sometimes Danny catches the ghost looking at him, brow furrowed with thought. Phantom is closing off, acting more distant. In his eyes, something like realization, more than just the dread of death, flashes. And whatever it is, the revelation scares him.

But Danny can barely notice as the dread turns to terror. His heart races, he can’t sleep, can’t eat. Every minute, he can feel the portal getting bigger. He can feel it eating at his insides, invading them, turning them to ice and mist as they evaporate. He feels it grow and tear, burrowing deeper to replace and pull apart. And it does not even hurt. It should hurt. Being unmade, being changed should hurt. A part of Danny wants it to hurt. The portal is killing him. In the end, it will destroy him. And he doesn’t want to die. Or… 

A much worse possibility screams at the back of his mind, in the way he feels the portal entrance below his shirt, can feel the small ghosts flitting through. Mutation trickles through his veins. Transformation, terrible violating change….

Down in the empty portal one night, Danny cries alone. All this struggling, all this hiding and for what? He really is going to die down here, where he should have all those months ago. The portal has spread to just above his knees, to his elbows. He can barely stand, can barely walk now. He can’t fill his fingers. But he can feel it, every inch. The portal is killing him, tearing him apart. It pulses, ready for release. And part of him wants to give in but… his friends and sister. Phantom, once simply his double, now his closest friend…. Letting the portal take him would be giving up, leaving them. But… he can’t do this, can’t keep fighting forever.

“Danny!” Suddenly Phantom is there, kneeling in front of him.

The human (Is ever human anymore, with this.. thing parasitizing his body?) blinks, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“You can’t give up.”

Danny hears the words, processes them, the same ones he’d been telling himself just second ago But… it’s too much. 

“I’m… I’m scared.” He cries. Just moments ago, he wanted to let the portal rip him apart. Dying was terrifying. But… “I can’t… I can’t keep fighting it. I…” A flash of cold. Danny feels the green claw up his neck. “It’s going to rip me apart. It’s going to kill me, really kill me this time. But…” He hiccups, the sound part cry, part laugh. “What if I don’t die? What if…” A tendril curls passed his knee, half way down his calf. “I can feel it, the portal. I can feel it like… like it’s my own skin. What if it… it destroys me but I… I’m still…”

He can’t force out the words, not with the cold tickling his throat, with the tears drowning his voice. But the thought…. What if the portal destroys his body but he still exists? What if it breaks out of his fragile human sheel and becomes him? What if he becomes it? The un-living gate between worlds, trapped in his cage of metal. Without sight or sound, just… his thoughts and the ghosts swimming through him forever.

“You won’t be trapped.” 

That… is not what Danny expected Phantom to say. He opens his eyes, tears cutting off in his shock. “What?”

The ghost shakes his head. “I figured it out. Why the accident made me, why you called me through.”

“I don’t understand.”

“We really should have figured it out months ago. The shared memories were a big hint. And the switching bodies.” He rolls his eyes. 

“I’m.. I’m dying.” Danny’s mind is screaming, confusion growing into distress. “What are-”

Phantom takes his hands. “You are the portal. There’s no denying it now. It’s part of you. It is you.”

“No.” Pure despair crashes over him. The word echoes, more thought and emotion that sound, Danny’s throat replaced by the green. 

It’s true then. A few more minutes and he’ll be nothing more than a cloud of mist, hanging in the frame. At least he’ll get to say goodbye-

“Stop that.” Phantom reprimands. “This isn’t the end. You’ll survive this.” 

Danny narrows his eyes. He appreciates the attempt at comfort but it was too late for reassuring lies. Even if he wouldn’t die, this is still the end.

The ghost points up the stairs. “You will walk up their stairs in a few minutes and go to bed. You’ll go to school on Monday and the Nasty Burger with Sam and Tuck. You’ll bug Jazz and…” Phantom is crying now too. “We’ll… we’ll do it together.”

Danny feels it, Phantom means every word. He is so sure but-

“I’m your ghost, Danny. Your ghost.” So much emphasis in the words. “I always have been. Your accident made me. You made me.” Phantom’s eyes glistening with tears. “You called me through the gate. You made me, an echo, your friend. And now…” He sniffled and a soft smile bloomed. “I’m… I’m becoming something more.”

Hands still clasps, Phantom brings one of Danny’s to his hazmat suited chest. The still-flesh fingers feel and… 

“That’s… that’s impossible.” Danny’s eyes widened awed. 

There under his hand, in Phantom’s chest… something thumps and pulses. A steady drum beat. In Phantom’s chest, his heart beats.

“Is it really?” The ghost raises one eyebrow.

“Yes! You’re a ghost. This is-” Danny cuts off. No, of course, it’s not impossible. He’s becoming a ghost portal and Phantom is being raised back to life. His ghost is becoming human.

The momentary awe crests and Danny plunges back into desperation. “Why are you telling me this?” 

His mind whirls. He imagines, Phantom as a human. Like so many times before, laying in his bed, doing his homework, going to school, hanging out with his friends. Danny can’t help but smile. The thought of his fading away and Phantom taking his life, the tastes he’d loved so much becoming real…

“No. I said… I said we’d go up those stairs together.” Desperation rings in Phantom’s voice, stronger than even Danny’s own despair.

Danny blinks. There is meaning there, significance. Phantom is begging him for something and… he does not understand. 

“When I first came through the portal, we shared a body and mind.” The ghost pleads, eyes wide. “Don’t you remember? I came through and… I wasn’t me anymore. I thought… it was like I didn’t exist but… but I realized…. That wasn’t it.”

“What are you saying?” Danny begs. The portal pulses, his arms and legs consumed. 

“We shared the same space and… I didn’t disappear. I folded back, back to where I came from in first place. I was you again.” Phantom says, the words airy with realization “I’ve always been you.” He squeezes the flesh hands, the desperate touch the only thing holding the green back.“You… you’ve felt it too, the link between us. We’re intertwined.”

The ghost is… right. Of course he is. Danny feels it in his….Phantom’s bones. The shared thoughts and memories. The body swapping. The shared interests and appearance. Dread, excitement, anticipation bubble in what once was Danny’s stomach. A thousand emotions but… paramount is hope.

Danny almost wants to laugh. He became best friends with himself. But…In Phantom’s chest, he can feel his, their heart pounding. If Phantom is wrong and he had just disappeared in that first overshadowing…

“But…. Phantom, what happens to you if that… if… if we…”

The ghost shakes his head. His knowing eyes say he knows Danny’s fear. “Danny, I came from you. From your death. Even with becoming… this…” He motions to his body. “A ghost that’s technically separate from you…. We’ve always been a step from being the same person. I think…. We’d finally fall back into step.”

They would fall into step… The strange sense of fullness, of rightness he’d felt when Phantom appeared… He’d felt different, not quite himself since the accident. Like something was missing. And now, the missing part is in front of him…

And yet… a last trickle of doubt, of fear. The portal quivers, wanting to overtake him. The tip of his nose disappears…

Fear darkens Phantom’s face. “No matter what happens to me, I won’t let you be trapped in the frame. I…” The ghost steels his face. “Whether we sync back into step, or I disappear, or we end up sharing a body permanently… Go back up those stairs with me.”

Danny stares for a long moment. He is just a pair of eyes now, two hands, and two feet. A part of him whispers, it would be easier to let the portal take him. At least he knows what will happen; he feels it in his mist, in the way his ectoplasm wants to expand, to grow to fit the frame. But this uncertainty… 

Will he lose Phantom or become him? Was Phantom even real in the first place? Does any of it matter? But the pleading, the desperation in Phantom…. His other self’s eyes. 

 “O… okay.” Danny stutters, mind made up.

The boy-who-is-a-portal pulls his ghost into a hug. His portal self pulses, straining to fill its proper shape. The last of his mortality in ghostly hands… the two fragmented minds intertwine. Strings twisting tighter and tighter together. Gaps that he hadn’t even felt filling. Threads knitted into a greater and greater pattern. Ghost and human and something altogether other fall into the weave.

It… never was a choice between Phantom and the portal, the creature that was and is Danny, and is so much more realizes. It was, it is, it will be so much more. Form straining to finally become, the being that is Danny releases.

The portal explodes out, a supernova of force, yet contained by his mind. The green mist coalesses, filling the metal machine made by its parent’s hands. The gateway becomes and the new born halfa, its guardian self, floats inside.

Slowly, the halfa floats out of the bridge. He blinks for a long moment, staring at the portal, his other body. A gloved hand over his chest, heart and core intertwined. Ghostly chill in his veins and human warmth.

He breathes out and… laughs with relief. His portal self pulses with mirth, mist curling. 

“I’m… I’m alive. That worked. Danny… Phantom… we did it.”

He is a ghost and he is alive. He is a gateway and he is a boy. He is Danny and he is Phantom. And he is whole.

Note: So yeah, yall know how much I love split Danny so this idea was born out of that love. If you’ve read my other words, you’ll probably notice some thematic similarities to Face to Face, hence why I never wrote this despite coming up with this idea first. Seriously, I was daydreaming about this fic while I was in grad school and supposed to be paying attention in the lecture I was TAing. 😅

The portal consuming Danny’s physical body was an interesting idea which came from free story I read on Kindle years ago. It was either a one off short story or in an anthology but I had not luck finding it. It was about a man who got a case of cancerous pocket dimension. Basically, this pocket of space appeared on his stomach and grew like a cancer, eventually destroying him. It was sad, about his wrestling with his impending death and leaving his daughter behind. About how his new part of space was being created with his life and yet he would not live to see it. He was not becoming the space, no part of his consciousness would stay. And yet, the planet that was visible through the spot, a new planet in a whole new universe, which he told his daughter about and showed her to her amazement, was named after her. A part of him did survive. 

I swear the story was a lot more poignant that my explanation and I really wish I could find it but I’m having no luck. 😭

Anyway, thanks for pushing me into writing this. Feel free to tell me what you think!

#Danny Phantom #my fic #Portal AU #Danny is a Ghost Portal #like literally #eldritch danny #Split Danny

[keysmashingfantasies]

hi !! could you possibly do a chishiya angst/fluff fic of his s/o (reader) in the borderlands being a citizen? and him finding out once the second stage begins? thank you !

i sure can! thank you for requesting and feedback is always welcome! i hope you enjoy, i liked how this one turned out.

a/n: it's pretty neutral, although i chose the Queen of Diamonds game. if you'd like me to change for the Jack of Diamonds, you let me know, it's just a quick adjustment.

Chishiya was a bit annoyed. He had been running all day since he got separated from the rest of the group, finding food and shelter. Maybe one or two things to make weapons. Eventually, of course, he deduced that the best way to avoid the King of Spades for now was to participate in games. And in the process, clear more face cards to be able to go back.

Diamonds. He saw the zeppelin of the Jack of Diamonds blow up, and he had cleared both the Jack of Hearts and the King of Diamonds. So this was the last diamonds game available, and Chishiya would play his specialties for as long as he could.

He faltered when he saw the building of the game. 'Sakurazaka University Hospital'. Where he was completing his residency.

He got a cellphone and waited. Not long after, him and other 3 players were notified by a robotic voice coming off of one of the TVs in the large waiting room. Players: Please meet the Queen of Diamonds in the laboratory.

Not even wasting time checking the map provided on his phone, Chishiya got there, being the first to walk in. He instantly shivered at the cold temperature, no longer being used to it. He approached one of the six tables. There were several diagrams of organs displayed, all connected to each other. From what he could see, they were fake, unlike the ones displayed in the walls. It was the research lab, Chishiya remembered staying late in that very room to study. Next to the diagrams, several vials of medicine and a large book on one of the tables. Catalog of substances and their effect on homeostasis. The other players gagged at the conserved organs in jars lining the walls but Chishiya was terribly intrigued and, if it wasn't inappropriate, he would even be happy. This was a game he could beat for sure, almost like it was made for him specifically. His breath hitched.

'If you could design a game, what would you do?', you said, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. Already a bit drunk from all the liquor available on the Beach.

'Hm... I don't know. I can't imagine myself planning a game. But it'd have to be something I'd be able to pass. Maybe a game in a hospital. That'd be right up my alley', he said.

'With organs and stuff?', you were looking up at him in a way that no one ever had, eyes a bit lidded and a gentle smile. It was making his heart race.

"Welcome, players", a voice Chishiya knew all too well echoed around the room and he lifted his head to see you walking from one of the several doors connected to the laboratory. You were there, in all your glory. You didn't wear your Beach clothes anymore, and although your eyes were cunning like a fox in a den of chickens, your smile was kind. Your eyes softened when you met his, and your smile grew for a fraction of a second. Chishiya knew what message you were trying to send. 'Hi again. I miss you. I'll explain everything, promise'. He didn't knew if he believed anymore. But he didn't have time to dwell on the bitterness of being abandoned yet again, because one of the screens lit up.

Game: Broken Homeostasis

Each player will be assigned a vital organ and several substances. Like in the human body, the vital organs are all connected to each other directly. On each round, it's mandatory that the players have to give some substance to their designated organ. The game objective is to keep your organ alive while destroying the others. Once in every round, the players will be able to consult the catalog of substances and their collateral damages. Good luck.

-

The game was over sooner than later. Chishiya and her cleared the game in maybe five rounds. He could feel your eyes on him all the time, with the same kind of nervous energy you had when you were both on the Beach and had yet to talk. How could you be the mastermind behind all of this?

Chishiya got closer as the game ended. Still shaken up from the previous diamonds game he was in, he kept his eyes on you, avoiding looking at the other players that now were laying dead on the floor.

"Hi", you said. Chishiya wanted to smile at you. He was growing exponentially concerned after you vanished after the Beach fire. But he was also hurt. You lied to him, made him care about you and then vanished in the night. He felt abandoned, and above all, stupid for even feeling this way.

"Hello", he said, trying to sound cold but his voice was trembling.

"I'm sure you have a lot of questions for me. You can ask. Now that the game is over, I'll tell you anything. Truthfully, this time", you said. Although you actually never lied to Chishiya, you weren't going to deny him the right to feel cheated. In your several late night talks, you told him everything. Your previous life, your aspirations, your fears. The only thing you didn't tell him was that you had accepted Mira's offer. And if you had known you would meet him soon after, you would've told her to go fuck herself.

"Why me? You infiltrated the Beach to gather information. Shouldn't you have seduced Hatter? Or Aguni or Niragi or anyone else? I'm an executive member, sure. But why me specifically. You'd probably make a better match with Kuzuryu. You were both infiltrated, after all", he was harsh, spitting the words at you like he wanted you to feel them hitting your skin. He didn't actually hold a vendetta against Kuzuryu but you? He cared for you deeply and he was hurt. But he was still in pain when your eyes started to water.

"Chishiya...", tears were streaming quickly down your face like a dam had been broken. You quickly wiped them away and drew a deep breath, composing yourself. You weren't about to guilt trip him. "I deserved that. I didn't get close to you with ulterior motives. I'm human, just like you. Just like everyone here. I wouldn't have become a citizen if I knew I'd meet you. Leaving you back in the Beach was the hardest thing I ever had to do. That's why I did all of this. That's why I chose this place to have my game and why I had to pull the strings and designed specifically for us to win. Together. I meant everything I said to you. I love you and I can't live in a world where you don't exist. I'd kill this King of Spades with my bare hands if the rules of the citizens didn't apply to me. Please, you have to understand. You changed everything for me", you sobbed. "The stakes are higher than ever for me. I'll do anything in my power to keep you alive".

"Your game was about justice", he said. No longer his voice held the cutting edge, now low and soft. How he used to speak to you before. Your hands were trembling when he held them. You looked up at him, eyes red and leaking, a trembling bottom lip. You looked absolutely devastated. But your eyes were the same. You loved him. "About how... Individual people can ruin things for everyone. A perfect organism in balance. And if something goes wrong, and one thing dies... The others go too", he dropped one of your hands and pointed at one of the closest organ diagrams to you, a liver absolutely ruined by another player, who accidentally injected it with the wrong dosage of their medicine of choice. "You wanted to know if it's possible to stay alive... Good in a corrupted and crumbling organism. You think you're a failing organ", you dropped your head in shame. He could read you like a book, always could.

He quickly caught your chin with his hand, lifting your head up to meet your eyes. "You're not a failing organ. You're not a failure of a person. Not to me, anyway", he said.

"You're not one either. I knew that even if I hadn't tailored this game for you, you'd be able to do it flawlessly. And I'd lay down my life for yours. Gladly", he saw the determined look in your face, one that he knew too well. He knew you meant it. Cupping your cheek in his hand, he bent down his head to kiss you until you were both breathless, squeezing your hand in his tightly.

"That won't be necessary", he said, panting, his forehead against yours. Pulling back to give you one of those all-knowing looks of his. "We're getting out of here together".

#alice in borderland fic #aib x reader #alice in borderland imagine #chishiya x reader #shuntaro chishiya x reader #alice in borderland x reader

[childrenofthesun77]

Misono and mahiru have so many things to bond over because of their family drama and I'm going to be very sad if it's not touched upon. Especially with lily currently revealing so many things to misono, including touma being mahiru's father.

They were both born out of wedlock and for some time they were raised by their single mothers, which at least according to my research is apparently still very unusual and frowned upon in japan.

Both are unsure what kind of relationship they were born from and if there was love involved.

They both witnessed the death of their mothers (or at least misono thought he saw kiriko die for a long time until jeje's illusion was lifted. We don't know if he saw the death of his biological mother)

Both had one of their parents attempting to kill them.

Both of them grew up lonely because they were kept away from the dangers of the world their families live in. Misono was being lied to and kept in the safety of the manor and its garden and mahiru was being lied to and had his family's connections to C3 kept secret from him even after he made a contract with the strongest servamp. Even though this was probably done out of love it endangered both of them because they were missing vital information.

#servamp #mahiru shirota #misono alicein

[pinksobg]

.˚‧︵‿ . . 🫖🌷 . . ‿︵‧˚.

Tea with the hatter 🌷 茶/chá/tea

What would a person love about having tea with you? Let me hype you up <3

[ID: pile 1: a close up from yeonjun (tomorrow x together) looking to the camera, celebrating the new year (year of the rabbit). pile 2: lighted candles, they are heart shaped, some are in the color red and others in the color pink. pile 3: yeonjun with a hand up and head tilted, showing a tiara with bunny hears for the year of the rabbit (this year, oh my). he is also with a sweater in baby pink with a a little of white color (in both of his pictures). End of ID.]

for reflexion purposes only. 💞 ready? let's go! hello! <3 I missed you guys <3 hope you enjoy the reading. i love tea and having tea can mean having a good time, right? i remember doing a final work on school about alternative medicine and we studied a lot about the origin of tea, I love tea so much, and I'm happy that the word chá in my native language comes from Mandarin 茶, I was very glad to study all of that

Pile 1) your power of transmutation. it seems very clear here that you are a person who can solve any kind of problem. looks like you've done this a lot already. you look like the kind of hero who sits down at the tea table after a battle, and continues with the vitality to move on with life. hair in the wind and a radiant look, confidence. surely a hatter would love to be your friend, maybe he's a little intimidated by your posture and good looks for the first impressions, but afterwards he'd definitely feel protected by your loyalty.

cards: 9 of wands, 8 of swords.

Pile 2) hello pile two! you overflow with pure love energy. what else to say? you are a full cup. perhaps you would arrive at the tea table with a sweet or a cake in hand. what you do for people is very clear that you are filled with love. the people around you can trust you and you can always have good advice, company or a shoulder to lean on (when you are not the one who is needing a shoulder, what is totally normal too). this is very beautiful. your energy is of love. a person having tea with you would definitely be grateful for that, with your attention to that person, for example. grateful for you to being you.

cards: 4 of cups, ace of cups.

Pile 3) your pile seems to be screaming connection with music, am i right? I see you as a beautiful flautist. abundant too. very abundant. you seem like such a kind person. it seems that... you would be that flautist who dresses in green, and plays walking rhythmically and happily, with no second intentions, just enjoying the moment and your art of existing. you play beautiful songs in the hearts of others too, bringing hope. an animation you might like is "howl's moving castle". "say things you don't understand..." flowers - miley cyrus. I would love to have a tea with you for sure!

cards: 10 of pentacles, the chariot.

positive affirmations for all piles <3

A lot of blessings come in my way

I'm enough and I matter. I respect myself and I love myself

It's okay to feel confused sometimes, and clarification come easily to me when I ask

peace and love,

pinksobg

#tarotblr #tarot community #💞💞💞 #pick a pile #pick a card #pick a picture #pick an image #tarot messages #tarotcommunity #goodnight 🌙

[mintacle]

I have this little gripe with any reading of Batman 1940 #416 that ends its analysis of Bruce and Dick's conversation by concluding that Bruce took Jason in to replace Dick. Because yes, but more importantly no. Let's break it down.

The panels that lead to the abovementioned conclusion are these:

Bruce admits to having missed Dick and to having felt lonely. This can to some extent be read as in Jason replacing Dick. But I think a reasonable argument can be made that being lonely and missing one specific person doesn't mean everyone new you let into your life is just an attempt to fill in the exact position of the former person. More on how Jason is not Dick later.

But first let us consider the fact that Bruce also gives Dick a whole 4 other reasons for taking Jason in.

1. Jason seemed like the right guy for the job.

2. Bruce sympathized with Jason.

3. Bruce wanted to help Jason

And Dick calls "Bull" on these (literally), which prompts Bruce to give another reason:

4. Bruce needed another set of hands on the job.

Only after Dick calls Bruce out again does Bruce admit to having missed Dick.

Now I believe you have to give all these former reasons just as much credit as the final one. The final one isn't last because it's more true, it's last because it is the one reason Bruce doesn't want to admit to Dick. In support of my theory to all being true in different ways, we have the parallel of Dick and Bruce unmasking.

Dick begins the conversation by unmasking.

And then insists upon Bruce unmasking as well.

(I'm not gonna rave about the significance of the background color changing. I'm not gonna rave about the significance of the-)

In the same way Dick asks Bruce to reveal more and more about his reason to take Jason in. The interpretation if these panels hinges vitally on understanding that Bruce is Batman. That part of his identity is true. Ergo, his reasons related to Batman for taking Jason in are true. His reason as Bruce to take Jason in (sympathy, wanting to help, missing Dick) are equally true. Bruce is still himself with the mask on, he is hiding behind the truth (I am Batman) and just in the same manner he is hiding behind the truth when Dick confronts him too. All the above mentioned reasons for Bruce taking Jason in are true. Saying it was only to replace Dick is reductionist.

Now let's get to the part of my alternative interpretation of Bruce admitting he was lonely and he missed Dick. Some people have chosen to see this as meaning that Jason was there to replace Dick, but again, I think that is reductionist and simplifies the complex human connections we have with one another. There is no such thing as one person replacing another.

I'm going full death of the author with my headcanon (based on canon argumentation though) that I'm about to give, since this issue was written by Starlin and it's probably safe to assume he intended to portray Jason as a mere replacement of Dick, but less skilled at the job. (Ffffuck you Starlin.)

Dick and Bruce have a.. non-conforming realtionship. They matter a lot to one another. They are partners, the dynamic duo, but it's hard to justify labeling them as any specific kind of relationship. Bruce was too young and inexperienced to take Dick in as his son and while he did ultimately raise Dick, their relationship was too equal to really be considered as a one-way father-son relationship. Dick has left (been fired) and Bruce is left missing him. Not only missing Dick, but also mourning the opportunity he had to become a father to a young boy and he now feels he has lost. He meets another young boy. Just as parentless, just as burning with a sense of justice and willingness to fight for it. Jason and Bruce's dynamic has always been far more of the parental-child nature. Starting with the fact that Jason was actually legally adopted, but also simply going from their interactions. Bruce realized he wishes to be a father and nurture someone through Dick and he is fulfilling this desire with Jason because he feels it is too late to be a father to Dick.

And full disclosure, this last part is 100% my own wishful thinking, however there is nothing in canon that would contradict my interpretation and enough supporting evidence for it to be a possibility.

Final conclusion: no Robin, Jason, Tim, Stephanie or Damian can or should be reduced to being a replacement for the one who came before. While there will always be that aspect at play that Bruce operates with a Robin, there are always more reasons for Bruce taking in the sidekicks he ultimately does.

#jason todd #batman #bruce wayne #nightwing #dick grayson #robin #dynamic duo #dc comics #dc #rambling #batman 1940 416

[weepylucifer]

i played DE the first time with the thinker archetype and found it very easy to do a sober run... with a little patience and boosting the skills i needed, i felt i could enjoy almost everything the game had to offer without using drugs or drinking. sure, some checks were forever out of my reach, but it was almost never vitally important stuff. it was always things like "connect emotionally to this non-essential npc" or checks that there was some alternative for.

last month i started a second run with a sensitive harry and i've most definitely been severely tempted to use speed and drink and smoke. sure it's nice to know what all the npcs are thinking and feeling, but it seems almost impossible to get anything done while sober. i never even understood the whole "DE makes you fuck up on every single roll and you constantly feel like shit" until i had to max out a skill and still savescum like the devil to jump off that fucking roof. that didn't happen with the thinker build. the purp skills just make you feel alienated with the wild shit they say ("you must become a mystical shaman right the fuck now!" "you are Honor Cop, stick your thumb up your ass!" "go on, talk to the guy in front of you about how much he misses his wife that he never mentioned to you once" "oujghgh, halfway across town your Cop Brother has just taken a shit into a blind old lady's oatmeal...") meanwhile the blue guys give you information about the world that makes you feel like you get what's going on at least a little, and lets you pretend you get what's going on to others. i guess there's a point being made here about what kinds of people slide easily into addiction... sensitive harry is a guy without any mental shield from the world around him, who feels everything viscerally and deeply, and who as a result just ends up acting extra weird, which is met with at best confusion, at worst scorn. of course he self-medicates. most people i know who abuse a substance are people who feel things very deeply and self-medicate against, essentially, the harshness of the world

#posts by me #needless to say i with my drive to intellectualize everything liked my blue guys better and i miss them so much #also the yellow guys. you never know how important they are until they're gone