Thank you for your incredible support over the last few years. We know you have been eagerly anticipating what is next for Life is Strange so we really hope you enjoyed the announcement trailer for Life is Strange: Before the Storm and are looking forward to the release of the first episode on 31stAugust 2017 for Xbox One, PlayStation 4 and PC (Steam).
So yes, that means there are now TWO Life is Strange projects in development, with DONTNOD Entertainment having also recently announced that they are also working on a new game. You’ll be the first to hear when we have more news on their game but for now, let’s focus on the newly announced Life is Strange: Before the Storm.
Before the Storm is our reaction to so many of you asking for the chance to revisit Arcadia Bay. This is where Denver based Deck Nine Games come in. Deck Nine Games are veteran game developers who, although being a new narrative games studio, have an extremely talented team from videogames, TV and film and a powerful set of proprietary tools called Storyforge. Please join us in giving them a very warm welcome to the Life is Strange family. You’ll get to meet the team and see their fantastic work during E3. Be sure to tune into the IGN livestream on Monday 12th June at 12:00 noon Pacific for the world’s first gameplay reveal.
You will also no doubt be excited to hear that Ashly Burch, Chloe’s original voice actor, makes a welcome return to the family this time on writing duties. Fans of Ashly will know she’s an Emmy nominated writer and it’s great to have her writing dialogue for a new younger, 16 year old Chloe, this time voiced by extremely talented actress Rhianna DeVries.
Ashly is writing alongside a passionate and talented team of writers at Deck Nine lead by Lead Writer Zak Garriss. The writing team have been working hard to create a compelling and rich three episode story that’s set before the events of the first game and focuses on when Chloe meets Rachel. Unlike Max, Chloe has no rewind power, so we highly recommend you think before you speak..! Chloe’s sharp tongue will require her to live with whatever she says and as before, every single action and choice will have a direct consequence in the short, mid and long term.
We know that many of you would love to see more from Max. Due to the way in which the first game ended, we didn’t want to canonize one group of players’ choices over the other – a sentiment echoed strongly by our community. That being said, we will still be giving you one final chance to play as Max through the self-contained bonus “Farewell” episode, which takes place long before the events of Before the Storm. This stand-alone bonus episode, will release after episode 3, and is only available as part of the Deluxe Edition of Life is Strange: Before the Storm. Rest assured, anyone purchasing the complete season of Before the Storm will get the full story. Max’s ‘Farewell’ episode really is just a bonus episode for those who would like to play as her one final time.
Thank you once again, for all your dedication over recent years. We can’t wait to hear what you think about Life is Strange: Before the Storm. There will, of course, be many more details revealed during E3. Make sure you check out the below video, made by the team over at Deck Nine Games, as there are many new details in to dive into. There is also an FAQ here but as usual, do let us know if you have any other burning questions in the meantime!
<b><p></b> <b>Sherlock:</b> Calculating. A very olde fandom. Don't insult Benedict Cumberbatch, those bitches know how to kill you and make it look accidental.<p/><b>Supernatural:</b> Crazy sons of bitches. Gay Angels, booze and angst.<p/><b>Harry Potter and FBAWTFT:</b> Welcoming and Warm. Will Avada Kedvara you if you insult Newt Scamander or other precious cinnamon rolls.<p/><b>GoT and ASOIAF:</b> Traumatised and waiting for Winter. (It's coming. Eventually, just like the next book....*sigh*)<p/><b>PJO/HOO/TOA:</b> Laughter, sadness, everybody is hella gay and hella diverse. Uncle Rick is savage as fuck. Insult Solangelo, they will roast marshmallows off your corpse while singing camp songs.<p/><b>MCGA:</b> Magnus needs protection. Alex Fierro is the world's greatest hero. Samirah will kick your ass if you insult Fierrochase.<p/><b>Whovians:</b> Confused. Love blue boxes. Sad tears, Timey Wimey. Bow ties and scarves.<p/><b>LOTR:</b> Very old, almost the oldest fandom in the known world. The wisest, except where jewelry is involved.<p/><b>Avengers:</b> Loki may be a sociopath but he's a cinnamon roll. Captain America is too precious for this world (and has the hots for Bucky)<p/></p><p/><b>Merlin:</b> Arthur x Merlin forever. Christmas is a sad time for the fandom.<p/><b>Shadowhunters:</b> Scary. Oh, so scary. Insult Malec at your peril.<p/></p>
It wouldn’t be red. Red is powerful and vivid and vast.
You wouldn’t be Orange - warm, welcoming, and vibrant.
You probably wouldn’t be as soft or as bright as yellow.
Nor would you be as fresh and wholesome as green.
It wouldn’t be blue, either. You are not deep enough or mysterious enough to call yourself blue.
You aren’t passionate enough for me to call you indigo and
You aren’t loved enough by me to tell you that you are violet.
You aren’t a new beginning like the way white makes me feel and you are not as edgy and as beautiful as black.
You are a color of your own: bland, monotone, and incomplete. There is no space for you on my color wheel. There is no space for you in my life.
Tonight I was on the receiving end of something rather hurtful that we talk about on Tumblr a lot: erasure.
Someone in a group chat I was in decided the acronym should be LGBTIA+, and was offering pride icons to the group. I said “I’m not any of those, I’m the Q,” and was told how they personally find that word uncomfortable so they left it out and used a plus sign instead.
Let me repeat that: my identity, the thing I have called myself since 2008, made them “uncomfortable,” so they just straight up removed it from the acronym and represented me with a goddamn plus sign.
So I’m done.
Don’t call me lesbian .Don’t call me wlw. CALL ME QUEER, IT’S WHAT I AM. Straight people, this goes for you too. You have my personal, this-directly-affects-me permission to call me Queer. My personal, this-directly-affects-me request, in fact. If you aren’t sure, the correct usage is the same format as any other part of the acronym: “Nina is Queer,” “Nina is a Queer woman,” “are you Queer?” I don’t really care personally if you capitalize it in casual use, but in official use I’ve never seen it uncapitalized (probably to differentiate it from the “well, isn’t that queer” usage).
PLEASE DO NOT LET A FEW SALTY TERFS PARROTING Q-SLUR BULLSHIT DESTROY MY IDENTITY. Queer is hated among that subset because it isn’t just a personal identity–it is a warm and welcoming umbrella that includes aces, trans folks, and nonbinary people. Not sure what you want to call yourself? It’s okay, the Queer community is still here for you. They HATE that and they’re trying to tear it down.
A final note: if you tag this post as “q slur,” you’re going to find yourself blocked in very short order. MY IDENTITY IS NOT A SLUR AND I REFUSE TO SEE IT TREATED THAT WAY ANY LONGER.
◇ pairing: jungkook | reader ◇ genre: too much fluff.. too much cute ◇ word count: 3.986 ◇ author’s note: surprise! \o/ I honestly have no idea how or why this happened. yesterday I just… started writing, and here we are, a few thousand words later. also, bear in mind that this is a sequel to blue orchids, so you need to read that one first if you want to understand this short piece. hope you all enjoy!
This story is set six years into the future within Blue Orchids’ universe.
The sun rays are melting on your skin. It has been a while since the skies opened up like this, leaving the sun bare to the living, its warmth a pleasant gift after days of storm and gloom. The sand under your legs and feet is, fortunately, not scorching — not yet, at least. The early morning is still warming up to the pristine sun, and the salty winds of the beach are still a strange mixture of the growing heatwave and the remnants of past iciness.
You cannot remember the last time you visited the beach, but it does not feel foreign or uncomfortable. It feels like you belong, mind at peace and body molding to the sand as your extended legs allow your toes to brush against the gentle waves that break and ebb away, water still too chilly to enjoy at its fullest.
Back to the glitters in her eyelids that streaked all the way down to her cheeks from July, that cup of coffee down the seventh street in that cafe, instant cupcakes baked at midnight, the cool marble floors from the vast mansion that became momentarily mellow when the fireplace was ablaze and all she could stare at was bright blue eyes, eyes that she’d known for sixteen years and wanted to know for a thousand more.
And her hands, perfectly manicured the way 7-year-old Alya said was too girly (she knew better now), soft and delicate and ones that carried the misconception of being frigid; perhaps untouchable. Ones that Alya knew were warm and slowly welcoming, a reluctant comfort seeker and a reluctant comforter. That was back in October, when she first held her hand when they strolled down the eighth street past that cafe.
To fall in love is apparently to fall suddenly and Alya agreed yet disagreed. Because when she thinks about it to herself on afternoons when she lays sideways down on her couch, her arm wrapped around the girl’s waist, her face melting in her blonde bundle of hair with each tiny golden strand that fell to her face like it was magnet, she thinks back to six-year-old Alya who first clashed with those blue eyes.
Six-year-old Alya who had her mom pick her up from pre-school, giving her a lecture about fighting others in school, let alone the daughter of the town mayor. Six-year-old Alya who, after her fair moments of silently grumbling to herself about how she was trying to defend her honor regarding who got to play on the swings first, turned to look at the bright skies above the car window that shone light on the fall leaves the way she liked it. Six-year old Alya, though she was definitely going to confront the same girl the next day, thought that girl’s eyes were like the skies just the way six-year-old Alya liked them; peeking through the shadows of high branches from the far distance when the fog mist would evaporate for the light to emerge ever so peacefully from the dark, greeting her each morning.
So it might’ve never been a sudden thing. But the part where she agreed it was?
Note: hi, darlin! I’m glad you love my writing! thank you so much for the request! I really hope you like it! .c
Request: Hii can you do a Bucky imagine where the reader is part of the avengers but they all ignore her all the time and they kind of hate her and to actually talk to them she has to follow them around. She has always been like that and one night they are really rude to her and she kind of breaks down and yeah…. You can make up the ending. By the way love your writing :) - @mariamaymanessam
Becoming an Avenger was not what you expected. Instead of a warm welcome, you had no welcome at all. Instead of making new friendships, you seem to have made…enemies? You weren’t exactly sure what they were. The team didn’t take a liking to you and you had no idea what you did to deserve such a rough time with them. You were on their team, you helped them during missions, and dare you say it: you picked up their slack and even saved their lives a few times.
So why do they hate you? Why do they ignore you?
You were getting ready for a mission, slipping your boots on. Your zipped up your suit afterwards and took a deep breath as you looked in the mirror. It was much like Natasha’s, just with more weapon holsters and secret pockets for knives. You sighed as you left your room, almost dreading having to leave.
You tried all morning to find out what the mission was about. Every time you asked someone, they’d brush you off or just completely ignore you. It was frustrating, but you knew they couldn’t let you go out there and not know what to do. Sure, kill enemies and protect your team members, but you didn’t know if there was something you had to do specifically.
The tower was pretty quiet as you searched for the team. Taking the elevator up to the common room, you didn’t find them there either. It was ten minutes till take off and you had no clue where they were.
“Friday, where’s the team?” You asked, tapping your fingers against your thigh nervously. “They are about to leave, Miss Y/L/N.” You gasped and the elevator doors slid open just as you were about to ask Friday to tell them to wait on you.
You opened the door to the roof and saw Steve walking onto the strip, securing his shield on his back. You ran as fast as you could, yelling for Steve to wait on you.
“I’m coming! Wait! Please!” Your combat boots hit the ground hard and fast as you watched the landing strip start to close. Your heart was beating fast and you swore he almost turned around to look at you but acted like he didn’t hear you.
Grunting, you pushed yourself to run faster and you just barely made it as the strip started to lift off the ground. You fell onto the strip and crawled up into the quinjet, your lungs burning.
The team was sitting around the table, going over the mission plans again, not seeming to care that you were gasping for air on the floor.
“You couldn’t have waited for me?” You asked breathlessly, standing to your feet. Nobody turned to look at you and you sighed heavily through your nose. “Guess not.” You muttered, walking over to the table. You stood near Sam and he cleared his throat, slightly turning his body away from you.
You peeked over the table to look at the manila file folder Steve was reading from. “It’s a HYDRA base. It holds information on a new experiment and we cannot leave without it. You know what to do.” His eyebrow quirked as he looked up from the file to glance around the team, skipping you.
“Who’s supposed to get the information?” You asked, looking around at the team. Their expressions were cold and they stayed silent, moving away to sit in their seats. You sighed and you reached for the file until a hand yanked it off the table. You looked over to see Clint whistling to himself, holding the file in front of his face, pretending to read it.
The team chuckled quietly and you frowned. “I wanted to read that.” You said, waiting for Clint to put the file down to respond to you. When he didn’t, you sighed. “Forget it.” You turned to sit in your rightful seat, only to see a large black duffel bag sitting in it.
Wanda was smirking as she hummed, keeping a hand on the bag so you couldn’t pull it away. Not bothering to say anything, you sat against the wall, a little ways away from the team.
You were used to them treating you like this, so it didn’t bother you too much to not have a seat or know what the mission was entirely about. You’d do what you always do. Go in, take down any enemy you see, and make sure the team was safe.
And that’s what you were doing. Your guns were firing bullet after bullet as you fought alongside Nat, Wanda, and Clint.
“On your left!” You shouted to Nat as she snapped a guards neck. Another one was charging at her and he pulled out a gun just as you hopped off the back of another guard.
Nat, of course, didn’t listen to you. So instead of letting her get shot, you ran into her and you both fell to the ground before either of you got shot. You quickly shot him down and Nat grunted, more so in annoyance than pain. “Get off of me!” She yelled, pushing you onto your back.
You scoffed and shook your head at her. “You’re welcome for saving your ass!” You yelled back, watching her kick open a door, leading into another room. Clint followed silently behind Nat, his bow aimed in front of him. You stomped after them and swallowed your anger. All you needed to do was get through this mission alive. Being angry would only make you lose focus.
You walked into the room Nat and Clint were in and you listened to Nat and Steve talk to each other in your comms. “The room is empty. Do you see anything?” Steve asked, you could hear him grunting and fighting alongside Bucky and Sam.
Wanda and Tony had been searching the far end of the base. A sense of familiarity set into your bones as you looked around the room. You knew exactly where they would keep such information. “I know where it is!” You exclaimed, listening to the team go quiet. “Great.” Clint said sarcastically.
You looked at Clint and Nat let out a laugh. “Of course she does. She was one of them.” Nat laughed harder and soon the others joined her. Your heart sank in your chest and you gripped your gun in your hand, holding onto the last ounce of composure you had.
Your past with Hydra wasn’t what they wanted to accept. They thought you were one of the bad guys, but you weren’t. You never were. You were kidnapped and experimented on but they didn’t care to look at it that way.
You sighed and left the room, making your way to the hidden vault on the left wing of the base. A few guards cut down the hallway, yelling in Russian. Before you could do anything , you had to take them out. And it was more than you expected. “Shit.” You muttered, readying your gun and a throwing knife.
You shot down any guard you could and even had to do hand-to-hand combat to get through some of them.
You took down the last guard with a choke hold and pride filled your chest. You ran towards the end of the hallway and saw a door with a passcode button. If you remembered correctly, you’d be able to get in without tripping an alarm. You had to do this before and it was nothing new to you. You knew all of their codes, having been in a base for five years.
The team had gone quiet in your comm and you figured all the guards left were dead. You suddenly heard footsteps approaching behind you. “What is she doing?” You heard Sam ask behind you. You turned around and let out a breath as you saw who it was. “I’m getting what you all couldn’t find.” You shrugged, turning back to the door.
You punched in a code and heard it beep two times, then the metal door slid open to reveal a large vault. You pumped your fist and exclaimed happily. “Unbelievable.” Wanda groaned, shaking her head. The others were upset and angry, but you were happy to had found what was needed.
You typed in the same code into the vault and pulled the door open, a file folder and two tubes of red liquid were set on display. You took them all and walked over to Steve, holding them out for him with a smile. He stared down at you with an unreadable expression before turning and walking away.
The team followed behind him and you sighed, following after them. Nobody was grateful for you finding it. Though, after a successful mission, you were worn out and ready to clean yourself of the dirt and blood.
So when you got back to the tower, you went straight to your bedroom to clean up. Thoughts filled your head, swirling around and nearly making you dizzy, as you slipped out of your boots and your suit. Your chest felt heavier the more you thought about everything.
You stepped into your bathroom and turned on your shower, stepping in and letting the hot water loosen your tense muscles and wash away the sadness. Only by a little. It wasn’t enough to let you feel peaceful. The way the team treated you everyday, it hurt. It was confusing and you were tired of it.
Getting out, you quickly dried your hair and slipped on a pair of shorts and a tank top, deciding to wear a thin cardigan. It gave you a sense of comfort. Your mind raced with questions and possible reasons as to why the team didn’t like you. You’d even say they hated you at this point.
Your stomach growling kept your thoughts at bay, you were more than ready to eat dinner. You’d rather avoid the team, but you had a right to eat just as much as they did. As the elevator to the kitchen opened, you could hear the team talking among themselves, the sound of their laughter echoing through the hallway.
You stopped before you reached the door, keeping out of sight as you heard your name.
“Come on, Nat! Y/N saved you.” You heard Wanda say, teasing the redhead. You could just picture the smirk on her face, you even heard the venom laced in her tone as she spoke. Nat scoffed and a few laughs covered up the beginning of her sentence.
“-but I had it under control. It’s not my fault the bitch won’t stick to her job.” You frowned and leaned against the wall, your stomach sinking as you listened to everyone agree. “I mean, she acts like she’s the best on the team!” The sound of a fork dropping onto a plate made you jump and you were suddenly aware of the tears falling down your cheeks.
You sniffled lightly and wiped at your nose with the sleeve of your cardigan. “I mean, we don’t even need her here.” Sam said just loud enough for you to hear. You felt sick to your stomach, feeling like a terrible burden to everyone.
Clint chuckled and you could hear him loudly chewing his food before he joined in. “She knew the passcode. Only a fucked up person would remember Hydra’s passcodes.” He mumbled the last part lowly. You heard Bucky clear his throat, his chair sliding against the floor. “Excuse me!?” He asked, shock evident in his voice.
You covered your mouth as a sob threatened to escape and you turned on your heel, running down the hallway and back to the elevator.
You couldn’t listen to this anymore. All they did was ignore you when you needed them or even wanted to hang out, and they were always talking about you and how they don’t like you. If they didn’t want you here, all they had to do was say so.
You stepped into the elevator and took it up to your bedroom. You tried your best to hold it in and when you slammed your door shut, you let everything go.
Everything that you held in came crashing down on top of you. Your sobs echoed through your room and it felt like your heart was going to split in two. You couldn’t understand what you did wrong.
A few minutes passed and a knock on your door startled you. Quickly scrambling to your feet, you took a few deep breaths before you opened your door, only to see Bucky standing there. His hair framed his face as he looked down at you, his eyes taking in your appearance.
You wiped at your cheeks and put on a fake smile, as if he couldn’t see that you were crying right in front of him. “H-hey, James.” Your voice came out shaky and you winced at the sound of it. Bucky stuffed his hands in his pockets, his head hanging low, guilt bubbling in his stomach.
He felt bad for how the team treated you. He would always take up for you, always tell the team to give you a break. He knew you were good for the team, whether they wanted you here or not. But he was too scared to approach you about it.
It was no excuse, but he was still new to opening up and talking about feelings. He hoped he was strong enough to finally put an end to how the team treated you.
“Did…Did you want to join us?” Bucky asked softly, kicking himself in his mind at what he just asked you. Why on earth would you want to join them after hearing what they said about you? After how they’ve treated you ever since you arrived? You were taken aback and you wanted to scoff at Bucky, but you held it in. He was making an effort.
You shook your head, “Sounds like you’re all having the time of your lives. I don’t want to intrude.” You walked away to sit on your bed and you sniffled, staring down at your knees.
Bucky walked into your room and sat down on your bed beside you. You held your head in your hands and let out another sob. “I need to leave.” You spoke through your sobs and Bucky felt his heart clench in his chest. “Please, don’t.” He whispered, and you almost missed it over your crying.
You let out a shaky laugh and you looked up at Bucky. “You guys hate me! I can’t do this anymore. A-all I’ve ever done, all I’ve e-ever tried to do was be apart of the team!” You inhaled deeply before another sob shook your body.
Bucky’s right hand rested on the small of your back, his metal hand moving to your cheek to wipe away your tears. “Y/N, when I first got here, they, aside from Steve, treated me nearly the same way. And…what happened to you, they don’t understand it. But I do.” Bucky saw your lip tremble and that did it for him.
“Come with me.” He stood to his feet and held his hand out for you. You stared at it as if it were a foreign object, your eyebrows creasing. “What?” You asked, sniffling as you wiped at your cheeks.
He gently wiggled his fingers after a few seconds. “Come on.” Bucky quietly urged you to take his hand and you gently slid yours into his, letting him pull you along to wherever it was he was taking you.
Taking the elevator back down, Bucky brought you into the kitchen and you felt small beside him. But you felt even smaller when the team looked up at spotted you with him. He stood there, his chest rising and falling heavily as his anger tried to break through his ribcage.
“She’s apart of the team. I don’t care who doesn’t like it. She has saved you-,” He pointed to Nat with a hard stare and she slowly sank in her seat, casting her eyes down to her lap, “-and you, and you.” He pointed at Wanda and then Clint.
They all sat there, seemingly full of shock and surprisingly, guilt.
Bucky’s hand dropped from yours and he walked over to the table, moving his plate of food to an empty seat beside him so that you could eat it.
"Y/N, eat with us.” He said with a small smile. You stood there, unsure of what to do, just like the others as they watched. Bucky sighed and walked over to you again and pulled you to the seat, gently sitting you down.
“If anyone says anything about her again, I won’t be so nice.” Bucky threatened, taking the seat beside you. You kept your eyes on the plate and bit your lip nervously. Bucky gently nudged your arm and you looked up at him. He smiled at you and motioned towards the plate.
You sighed and slid it back to him. “It’s yours.” You whispered, ignoring the stares from the team. “I want you to eat first. You worked hard today.” Bucky shrugged.
Nat took a deep breath and Bucky tensed in his seat. He shot her a warning glare and she held her hands up in defense. “I was just gonna tell her thank you.” She said softly, her eyes flickering to your face before looking at Bucky again.
Steve straightened his back in his seat, “Y/N, I want to apologize. And I-I want to say thank you, as well.” Steve said, his cheeks tinted red. Your eyes widened and soon enough the whole team was apologizing.
“We weren’t sure if we could trust you. Hydra has…Hydra has a way with weaving people in and destroying things.” Tony explained after a few minutes, setting down his drink.
You nodded gently. Bucky let his arm rest on your chair, his thumb brushing against your shoulder. A warm feeling spread throughout your body at the small action. “I’m sorry if I haven’t proved myself.” You whispered softly, keeping your eyes on the food.
Sam cleared his throat and looked over at you. “You’ve proved that we could trust you many times and I’m sorry for everything. We need you on the team. I was too cocky to admit it.” Sam mumbled the last part bashfully. Bucky snorted and covered his mouth with his hand. Soon enough, you were laughing along with the team.
“Do you want to say something?” Bucky asked softly, watching as you took a bite of your food. You looked around at everyone and sighed.
It wasn’t entirely wrong to accept their apologies. They did have a good reason to resent you at first, with the whole new recruit with a Hydra backstory situation, but it would take you a little while to fully become their friend after everything.
You shook your head and looked up at Bucky. He simply nodded at you, completely understanding, and let you get back to eating. He kept his arm over your chair and scooted just a tad closer to you.
Not too long after, the team started talking again, only this time: they didn’t ignore you.
Note: I love reading your comments! feedback is more than welcome! I love you all so much! .c
A/N: here’s some hades!harry! Sorry if it’s shitty I’m trying to get back in the game! And sorry for any typos and mistakes! Enjoy :-)
Being a god comes with a large bundle of heightened emotions and Harry honestly wishes that they had an off switch. Celestial beings are called “celestial” for a reason, after all. They’re abnormally better than any human, and thus they must keep an attitude and air that enforces nothing less, but damn feelings for being able to get in the way so easily.
Gods must be calm and collected under the most extraneous situations, they must rule with an iron fist, and most importantly, they must forbid emotions from deterring them in any way. He’s not saying that he hates feeling emotions more intensely; some are worth the toil. Pleasure, for example, is felt tenfold what any human could handle and he can almost say that this alone makes the troubles worth it. But it’s moments such as now that bring forward overpowering feelings that he wishes he could cast aside: a dangerous mixture of excitement and anxiousness.
More specifically, the excitement and anxiousness that comes with the return of his beloved wife, Persephone (or as he calls her, Y/N), from being away for her given six months of the year.