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RFA TRIES PROMPT 1 AND GETS CARRIED AWAY

Anonymous submitted:

1. a Bachelor type show where Hope is the Bachelor and Lightning is a contestant because Serah/Fang convinced her to do it and the rest is history! 

RFA: I’m going to be a bit creative with this and try the Chinese If You Are the One format where there are 1 bachelor and 24 female contestants. The bachelor introduces himself in sections as the women deliberate over him and choose to keep their lights on (maintain interest) or turn them off (reject him). He gets to choose from the women who remain after the final round.

>Lightning: be bored.

“Why did you reject contestant number 3, Miss Farron?” The host asks, all smiles on his face and gesturing with his mic, no doubt hoping for another controversial comment from her.

“He won’t last two seconds against a proto behemoth,” she responds, rolling her eyes at the camera because she knows everyone is watching at home, “I’d sooner not have that kind of burden in my life.”

A few gasps in the crowd. The man looks just the right amount of wounded. She shifts her weight impatiently at her stand, glimpsing a sign in the crowd - does it say something along the lines of GO LIGHTNING FARRON, THE ICE QUEEN OF MY HEART? She won’t be surprised. Her crudeness has made her surprisingly popular, and Serah gushes constantly about the amount of fanmail she receives (and reads) on the behalf of her sister. Lightning doesn’t have the time for that kind of thing. Lightning would sooner not be here at all. Lightning’s only here because she lost a bet to Fang and she was getting a bit tired of Snow and Serah pestering her about her single status like five times every day.

I’m pretty sure the kind of man I’m interested in won’t be into these kinds of shows anyway, she thinks to herself, sullen, as the rejected man bows to the women and walks off the stage. I know I hate these kinds of things. It’s people like Serah and Vanille who worship them like religion.

“Let’s welcome our next contestant! Mr. Estheim, director of Academy Research, team alpha. 24. Born and raised in Palumpolum.”

Oh no, another boring one, she groans internally, balancing her weight awkwardly in her flowing rose dress. She hates wearing dresses for these shows, too. If only -

“Mr. Estheim!”

“Wait, is this the Hope Estheim?”

“Wasn’t he rumored to be in a relationship with the daughter of the Primarch?”

Lightning perks up ever so slightly. So he’s famous.

“Thank you for the introduction, Mr. Meng,” the man responds politely after the crowd has died down - his voice is strangely familiar somehow - and when he performs the customary preliminary scan of all the female contestants, Lightning notices that his gaze lingers on her for a second more than everyone else. Long enough for me to notice, but not anyone else. And he knows I only noticed because I’ve been trained in the Corps with minute reactions and quick assessments.

What has been his eye color? Green? Serah used to tease her about green-eyed boys when they were younger. Not that she hasn’t passed up plenty of them on this show.

“Let’s see the first segment,” the host announces, and Hope Estheim settles comfortably into his chair, seemingly completely unfazed by the stage. A few contestants have already declared for him.

The figure of the silver-haired man glides onto the screen, surrounded by a line of scientists and marching machines.

“I am a scientist. I have been fascinated by machinery and the inner workings of the world since a very young age, and I find it awarding to improve people’s lives through inventing new tools, structures, and ways of thinking. I was behind the overhaul of Eden’s transport system and also oversaw the construction of the new Academy headquarters.”

Respectable, Lightning muses, remembering the terrible traffic jams that used to plague Eden. But still boring.

“Lately I’ve been working on a prototype for a brand new Guardian Corps gunblade.” All eyes zoom to her, including the stage lights; she blinks, turns to Hope Estheim - and sees him sitting as calmly as ever in his seat, although there’s a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Automatic target selection, the highest grades of precision and accuracy, as well as being foolproof - it will allow someone as inexperienced as me to match a veteran like Contestant Farron.”

“Well, Mr. Estheim,” the host takes his cue on a silver platter and turns to Estheim, “This is certainly a new development. Will we get to see you make a case for your claim, here on our show?”

She smashes her light. Estheim’s smug confidence is ticking her off. Who is he to challenge her? Plenty of men have thought themselves capable of taking her down a notch, put her into her place. This of all places is not where she’ll back down. “No one can beat me,” she hisses, “scientific cheats or no.”

“I do not speak of beat,” Estheim corrects, and suddenly his face is so soft that it catches her off guard, “I speak of match. But yes, sir, I would like to demonstrate the effectiveness of my invention. I have brought my prototype with me to the show today.”

The host smiles. “And we have brought you your gunblade, Miss Farron, just for this special occasion.”

She grits her teeth as she walks forward. Estheim doesn’t look like a marksman - he’s too lean, too polished, too pretty along the edges. She wonders if he’s ever seen real battle, felt anyone’s soul depart from under his hands. He’s always had it easy. One real obstacle and he will crumble. She raises her arm to aim, almost tempted to shoot the pillar next to him so as to get that stupid smile off of his face.

He isn’t smiling. His face is somber instead as he raises an opposing arm, a strength in his eyes that makes her blink in surprise. He knows, she realizes, and he’s practiced with this, too. “I lost my mother when I was fourteen,” he says evenly, to her and to her alone. “I’ve been looking for things worth protecting.”

She shoots to get the significance of his words out of her head. He shoots right after her.

The crowd is silent. She doesn’t look up. For the first time in her life, she’s afraid of having been defeated.

“Two 9.9s,” the host announces, and there’s something resembling victory in the elderly man’s eyes. Ah, yes, the ratings. “A perfect match.”

She can feel Estheim’s gaze on her. She’s failed her shot - she usually scores above a 10.5 - and she knows he’s capable of more than that, a 11 if he wanted. Perhaps a 11 even if he’s shooting with a normal gunblade. But he’s pulled back, chosen to match her instead. Why?

“I quit this show,” she blurts out, sheathing her blade and walking off the stage. In the shock that follows, no one chases after her.

******************************

“You were too harsh on Hope Estheim,” Serah admonishes, shoving a plate of fruit into her face. “It’s dead obvious that he’s head over heels over you.”

“Well, I don’t care,” she spits, crossing her arms together behind her back. It’s not completely true. She’d caught a glimpse of his face as she walked off and there had been a deep sadness there, a loneliness that hurt her where no previous male contestant had hurt her before. “He can sleep with his pile of guns and machines.”

The doorbell rings.

“You don’t have to - ah.” Serah’s annoyed voice suddenly stops as she answers the door. “Come in, please.”

She closes her eyes and hopes she can just take a quick nap.

“Miss Farron?” That voice speaks up behind her and she jumps, unsheathing the gunblade in under a second and pointing the tip of it at his nose. Hope Estheim is standing in front of her in the flesh, sweat on his brow and dark circles under his eyes, and he’s holding a huge package. “I, uh, wanted to apologize. I’m so sorry for what I did to you the other day. But I wanted you to have this.”

She stares at him as if he’s crazy. “What?” Serah has apparently already fled the scene. Damn those meddling younger sisters. “Why - ”

“A gunblade,” he says quietly, still catching his breath. “Fresh from the lab. But it’s not a prototype anymore. I’ve added a few more things, to take into consideration how your movements change when you’re anxious. But I just want you to have it. Because I don’t want you to get hurt anymore protecting children from monsters.”

She studies him. This time, he looks almost like a child, simply wanting to please. There’s an idealism in his eyes that she wants to punch out even as she wants to hold it in her raw palms. “That injury never happened.”

Frustration enters his face now exactly where she thought it would. “But - ”

“Thank you,” she says, and extends a hand out. He stares at her for a long time before taking it. “And my apologies to you, too. Let’s go find a shooting range.”

Then suddenly, you met someone who told you the same story. Who told you about the same path you’ve walked through. And this time, you truly listened. You looked at them in the eyes while all the memories started coming back from the past. Suddenly you were like listening to an old song. You were like seeing an old scene you thought you have already forgotten. You were like in the darkness again. A darkness that was surrounded by voices you thought will never exist again. You were like watching an old movie. The one you don’t want to witness anymore. You’re hearing the same story from a different person. This time, the tears and sobs were not coming from you. It’s from someone you haven’t known when the same story happened to you. It was the same, yes, but still different. Because this time, you already understand. This time, you knew why it has to happen that way. This time, you were different. Because you already learned the lessons behind that story. And it’s time for you to try telling that someone how you overcome passing along that obstacle you thought you can never get through.
—  ma.c.a // Make them know, how brave you are
3

I have been wanting to make this joke since I started reading @wilyart‘s Insomnia comic, so I finally did it.

No regrets.

Now go read Insomnia, it’s an amazing comic with beautiful art and an incredibly well written and thought out story.

anonymous asked:

Hi, 7goodangel. I am here to ask you about PaperJam as a shy, smol and innocent being (mainly thegreatrouge made him be). There has been some conflicts regarding his trait. Some said his canonical personality is a jerk, like what you wrote in his bio / info and some said that is severely wrong and being shy, (which made him shipped with Fresh), is his canonical personality. What are your thoughts about this? I mean, it is your character and people are taking control of it. Don't you disagree?

Well… I have talked to people and seen public conversations and this has happened several times to me over months. I guess I’ve gotten a little numb to it now… or maybe it’s due to school that I haven’t given it the attention that it deserves. Probably due to school. 

I just can’t update constantly like others - even though some others in school were and are able to update constantly. I can’t keep going around and holding up my bio of PJ and police people. It’s exhausting to me… it really takes up the small bit of free time I have. 

I think after I get a solid job that I’ll be able to go around better… but anyway - back to your question. 


While I love seeing interpretations and do not want people to be limited by something and have their imaginations go forth… it’s proving that a huge con comes with that mentality - which you have pointed out. A lot of people swear that PJ is the cute, innocent interpretation that really, did get PJ popular in the first place. While I did have him as a jerk from the beginning - I kinda kept that info to my RP blog - so you could say it is my fault this is all happening and I do think that. I could of done something to make it not as bad as it is now… 

It’s just like the NSFW stuff… people just assume the first thing and run with it. And it really does make me feel like I really am not needed for my own character at points. 

It’s a struggle - I don’t want to have people stop interpreting PJ within AUs… but I also don’t want people to just see him as an innocent child to ship with Fresh. 

And I’m still trying to find the best solution to it. 

But… I feel like the damage is already done. It’s too late for me to talk to all of these people going around swearing on their life that PJ is canoncally like Rouge’s interpretation/AUs. It feels like an hopeless battle to me. 

And I guess I needed someone to ask me this question so then I can fully say my thoughts on this. 

So in short, while I love creativity and don’t want to snuff it out (considering some people would probably think I’m doing that already with saying “No Sin”), I still don’t like it. It irritates me, irks me, frustrates me, and I feel like even as the person who thought of PJ in the first place, my voice isn’t enough. Communities seem like they don’t care about artists unless they reach a ‘certain goal of popularity’ or seem like they have a more professional style of art. I know I do not reach either of those titles. 

People misspell my username all the time - I actually claimed ‘7goodangle’ on tumblr for that reason.

People still say “I’m too lazy to find who made PJ” when they clearly mentioned they looked at the bio on the wiki. 

People still go around arguing others on the canon ship of OmniPJ and swearing that FreshPaper is the true canon ship, when all people are pointing out is that they need to keep the canon ship in mind when going around with information.

Even just basic personality traits… and these things are happening on sites that I do not nor want an account for. 

I still want others to have fun - to be happy; but I don’t know… I guess I’m cutting out my own happiness to get everyone else happy? I want to eventually write a version of PJ within his own universe and story… and he is more like the version I created within the UT verse. Not exact - but close. Though who knows… I might shove PJ to the side and replace his role with another character. I’m still weighing options.

Cause PJ was the first character I ever put this much time and thought into… my first character that was balanced, well rounded…

And what happens?

…well.

You said it Anon. 

They took it - changed it (initially as an AU but now people think it’s canon) - and I can’t do much about it. Due to school and not much free-time… due to how many don’t know the true creator… and just back talking anyone who is just mentioning it to people who swear by it. 

As an artist and a character designer…

It makes me not want to show designs, characters, and stories ever again online.

Considering if this is how I was treated on the first one… why even take a chance at a second one? If it has brought me so much stress, frustration, and time… why even try it again?

I said I was only going to do fanart so if anyone stole it, it didn’t really matter. 
I think I should have stuck with that thought process. 

In conclusion, there are some major things to take away here. First – that yes, I do not like how it has skewed this far to the point of arguing over a fandom version with the canon. Canon is canon and I get the different AUs – this is too far. Way too far. I am emotionally drained from this – from this whole mess that I have been defending throughout majority of PJ’s lifespan. I will state this – Paper Jam is my character. He is my original character that I created more than a year ago. And the UT AU fandom took my character and warped him to something he is not and all of his original meaning is lost. I do not like to hurt others or make other sad – but I must put my foot fully down. This miscommunication needs to stop. I am tired of repeating things over and over and I have past my breaking point time and time again. I just want people to see PJ how he really is… and I wish that people could be focusing more on the reality of him instead of the alternate that they all claim as truth.

Final words: I still like Undertale – I still like creating characters and having fun – but the Undertale AU fandom is ridiculous now. The Amino UT community is insanity in an app, and there is a lot of stuff that has made many artists and creators to their breaking point and leaving the fandom entirely. Everyone in this fandom needs to take ten steps back and look at what they are doing. Go back to the game. Play it again – watch your favorite let’s player’s videos of it again. 

And just… food for thought… please don’t jump the gun on someone else’s OC’s personality and actions. 

I do not want anyone to experience what I had.

Before the very special moment comes, you expect the sun to rise in the morning. So it will light the whole day. You expect it to celebrate with you while you turn your head up high and smile at the sky. Before you went to surprise your friend on his own house, you expect him to be there knowing he would not go anywhere else. Before you call your best friend to tell her stories in the middle of the night, you expect her to answer your call and tell you that she has her ears open to everything you’re going to say. When you fall on your knees while you are surrounded by a lot of busy people, you expect someone to lend you a hand and lift you up on your feet. When you fall in love with someone who matters to you the most, you expect to be with them forever knowing that you will never fall out of love with them. Never. Yet when your dreams shattered to the ground, when your heart gets broken, you become disappointed and blame yourself for expecting too much. Your walls break down and you let them be replaced with negativities. Suddenly you lie awake at 3am thinking what you have done wrong. Thinking if there’s still a way for you to step your feet and walk on. It rains. Stars are falling. People are leaving. One by one. Not all at once. As if they let you see them disappear like leaves on Autumn. But you and your hope is still there, sleeping and waiting for your call. You knew that expectations are different from love and hope. And you still have the latter. Your heart is still beating. This world is still revolving around the sun. The stars are still going to shine. Billions of people are still alive. And you’re still there, breathing, existing. Hope, my dear, but never expect. Because in the end, with love, it still remains. And someday you will understand that these things are some of the best things you’ll ever have in your life. That even if you refuse to feel them in a while, these are some things you’ve been possessing from the very start.
—  ma.c.a // When there’s hope, there’s also love

Alright, it’s the last season of Voltron. The ratings have changed from PG to PG-13. The war is over, the Galra have settled, and everything is okay enough for them to go home for a bit. They all want to see their families, but agree to go to the garrison first and explain where they’ve been the last few years. They land just outside, making jokes about coming in peace and things like that—they’re all just glad to be in their own atmosphere. They have a meeting with the people in the garrison, explaining what happened and about the war. It’s kind of hard to take in for a few, but they landed a castle ship and five mechanical lions outside the window so it’s hard not to believe. They’re all pretty much persuaded until Iverson pipes up.

               He talks about how they can’t trust two aliens and five failed students just because they flew in giant space lions and claimed they’d won a war. “They could’ve lead the aliens right to us!” and all that. Everyone in the room internally groans, because of course he was gonna say something about it.

               Then Coran steps forward. Everyone looks to him; even Iverson has shut up, because he’s stayed silent through the whole trip. He twists his mustache, giving a knowing look at everyone in the room and says very clearly, “Fuck you, Iverson.”

               Everyone starts crying. Your ships are making out while everyone around the room claps. Allura looks proud as the paladins high five Coran. Iverson is dead. Everything is right in the world.

“Are you happy, Vitya?”

On my love by @min-min-minnie is an amazing fic and this particular scene brought me to tears. I just wanted to draw something as a gigantic thank you for the fic and maybe motivate her for the next chapter.

Concept:
Enjolras/Grantaire modern AU fic but written as Victor Hugo would have done

Example:
Chapter III: In which Enjolras and Grantaire encounter the crowd at the Louvre

Enjolras, striding imposingly up stairs with Grantaire at his heels, exited the Tuileries métro onto the rue de Rivoli. They followed the road east, alongside the Jardin des Tuileries, past the statue of Jeanne d’arc, then crossed through the Jardin…[etc]…and finally arrived in front of the Pyramide du Louvre.

‘It is no less busy than usual,’ remarked Enjolras, his youthful beauty striking even in the crowd of hundreds. 

‘That is what I said; even on a Tuesday morning on such an ugly day the tourists will flock to this grand triangle for the purpose of a single photograph. To have such motivation! Had I but an ounce of it for such a thing, my own portrait would be smiling on the wall alongside Mona Lisa herself,’ replied Grantaire. ‘But no matter, we are here for the heart, not the skin. And which is more important? Let us enter. If it is alright with you.’

Enjolras gently clasped his hand with a smile. ‘It is.’

Chapter IV: The Louvre

A few words on the Louvre. 

[9000 words redacted]