#expect an addition to my pinned post

[void-the-punk-or-something-idk]

Day: ??? of kinsidering Ford Pines

Should probably get out of denial. Can't until my last shred of doubt is extinguished. Is this proof?

Might be shifted right now. Feeling phantom limb about my sixth fingers.

This post was meant to be humorous, but I can't think of a punchline. o7

[thankskenpenders]

Thoughts on two specific areas of the writing in Sonic X Shadow Generations

The best new 3D Sonic game in over a decade (or even two, depending on who you ask) dropped late last year. And I didn't write anything about it! Sometimes life happens. Well, I've finally sat down to finish Shadow Generations, and by now everyone has already been singing its praises for three months. This is the rare instance where the entire Sonic fandom, and even mainstream reviewers, are in agreement on something. The level design is the best it's been in a long, long time and the cool factor is off the charts, embracing Sonic's peak cringe era in an incredibly confident way. It's great. If you're even reading this post, you probably don't need me to tell you that. So I won't!

No, what I'm really interested in here is the writing. Because this is me we're talking about. But I actually don't want to talk about the main narrative of Shadow Generations, which is really solid little story about Black Doom trying to mold Shadow into his perfect soldier. No, I'd like to zero in on two other aspects of the writing here: the revisions made to Sonic Generations, and Gerald Robotnik's unlockable journal.

The updated Sonic Generations script

The new package mostly presents Sonic Generations how you remember it. There are some tweaks, but it's not a major overhaul. Graphically, I don't think the game has been touched much, if at all. I certainly can't notice any difference without a side-by-side comparison, despite playing it on a PS5. The most notable update is that the game's script has been rewritten by Ian Flynn.

Naturally, this caught my attention. Generations always had a nothingburger story, so with Ian rewriting Pontac and Graff's lame dialogue there was nowhere to go but up. (I don't like to pin the blame for those games' stories entirely on them, as a ton of it was dictated to them by Sonic Team, but, well, I don't think they're very good dialogue writers.) But it's less a complete rewrite and more like Ian was brought on as a script doctor for some minor touch ups here and there. Many lines of dialogue are completely identical to how they were originally written in 2011, and many others only have slight wording changes. Ian was clearly not allowed to request additional scenes or extend the ones that already existed. He has to match the original beat for beat so that they can reuse 99% of the cutscene animations. Don't expect it to be a whole new experience compared to the original.

Still, I think the new script is an improvement, albeit a minor one. Various things have been tweaked to maintain characterization consistency. Cream calls Sonic "Mr. Sonic" instead of just "Sonic." Instead of calling Sonic "buddy," Rouge uses the pet name "Blue," like she tends to do in things like the IDW comics. Espio doesn't have to remind you in the dialogue that he's a ninja, and he no longer has a line making it sound like he has some kind of soul reading power. I also like that Modern Sonic now actually has responses to what his friends say when he rescues them, rather than being silent like Classic Sonic. They won't blow you away, but they make Sonic feel a little more engaged with everything.

In general, the altered dialogue just seems tighter to me, and some of the more childish or trite wording of Pontac and Graff's script has been altered. Here, let's actually make a direct comparison, just because this stuff is interesting to me as a writer. Here's a couple lines from after the Egg Dragoon fight late in the game, in the original script:

Modern Eggman: Ooooh... I can't believe this! I was supposed to beat you this time. Modern Sonic: Aw, I'm sorry! I didn't get that memo. I beat you every time! [Turns to Classic Sonic] No, seriously, we beat this guy every time. It's like it's our job or something!

This is a simple exchange. Eggman is mad that he lost. Sonic is unflappably confident because he always beats Eggman, and he explains this to his younger self. But the wording here isn't particularly good. Eggman's simple and direct wording makes him come off like a little kid who's mad because his older brother beat him at Mario Kart, rather than a mad scientist who just had his plans foiled. It's making light of the situation.

And I've never liked Sonic saying "It's like it's our job or something!" That doesn't feel like a thing Sonic would say, it feels like a thing an outside observer would say about Sonic. This is a frequent problem with so-called "MCU dialogue," where quips meant to echo the commentary of a casual, somewhat disinterested audience are inserted into the story itself so that the writers can be like "See? We get it. We're genre-savvy, too!" It also just reminds me of bad Sonic Boom: Rise of Lyric lines like "Rings! It's like they're made for me!"

And then here's Ian's rewrite:

Modern Eggman: I recalibrated everything! This was supposed to be my time! Modern Sonic: Oh, please, keep dreamin', Egg-head. I beat you every time. [Turns to Classic Sonic] No, seriously, we beat him every time. Our score card's flawless.

Eggman's still mad about his defeat, but the line "I recalibrated everything!" makes it more specific. He put all this work into the engineering side of his latest scheme and got tunnel vision, thinking if he got his creations just right there'd be no way he could lose. "This was supposed to be my time!" also turns it into a time travel pun, which is a bonus. He's still pitching a fit over losing, but it feels more like Eggman pitching a fit, rather than sounding childish.

And then instead of saying that beating Eggman is "like his job or something," Sonic says he's got a flawless score card against Eggman. He doesn't take Eggman seriously as a threat—at least, not to his face. He acts like it's all a game. But he conveys this in a way that feels truer to the character, rather than feeling like the words of a real world observer poking fun at the tropes of the Sonic series.

Is this amazing, A+ dialogue that blows me away? No. Again, it's not a completely different scene from the one we already had. Ian had to fit the beats of what was already there. He couldn't go all out and write an all new story confirming his longstanding headcanon that the Time Eater is a remnant of Solaris or whatever. But the wording here makes the existing story land a little better and feel truer to the characters in subtle ways.

But to me, the main change is that the Sonics and Tailses seem to have a more solid understanding of what's going on with the timeline and the Time Eater, compared to how idiotic they sometimes seemed in the original game. Which is good! No more standing outside Green Hill and wondering why it seems so familiar. Thank god. As part of this, yes, there are a few more references to past games in the dialogue, like Sonic briefly being confused about the fact that they're time traveling without the Time Stones, or South Island and Westside Island being acknowledged as the normal locations of Green Hill and Chemical Plant. Yes, ha ha, insert joke about how Ian loves references here. Look, it's Sonic fucking Generations. It's a game built entirely out of nostalgic references. Just own it! And, again, in this instance Sonic and Tails come off as less stupid when they make it clear that they do, in fact, remember their adventures from presumably less than a year ago in-universe.

Eggman, too, seems to have a better understanding of the powers he's toying with. Where in the original vesion his focus was simply on going back in time to undo his previous defeats and he seemed kind of oblivious to how much the Time Eater was actually fucking up the universe, here Eggman says he wants to use the Time Eater to give himself complete control over the entire timeline. Eggman also makes way fewer references to his own failures and shortcomings. Of course he won't admit that Sonic has defeated him time and time again. To him, he's never truly lost—Sonic just keeps delaying the inevitable total victory for the Eggman Empire.

So, yes. The new Sonic Generations script is better. It won't blow anyone away, but it's better than it was. It's been elevated from "kinda lame" to "fine." No, if you really wanna see Ian flex his ability to breathe new life into old Sonic stories, look no further than...

Gerald Robotnik's Journal

Hoo boy.

The story of what happened aboard the ARK has always been... a bit confusing, to say the least. Fans with encyclopedic knowledge of the script for every route of Shadow '05 may disagree, but it's the truth. We've had all the pieces to understand the story for a long time now, but that info was given to us out of order by a pair of unreliable narrators—Gerald, who became a vengeful lunatic shortly before his death, and Shadow, who was subjected to multiple rounds of amnesia and altered memories. Some of the ambiguity left by Sonic Adventure 2 was cleared up in Shadow '05, but that game also retconned in a bunch of new elements to Shadow's backstory (aliens!) that lead to further confusion. Not to mention the fact that that game had multiple routes and only revealed the truth about Shadow if you sat on the ultimate final boss battle for WAY longer than the fight would normally last. Or the fact that Sonic X made its own tweaks in its telling of the story. Or the fact that none of these things ever had the best English translations. I can't blame anyone who hasn't played those games in two decades for not remembering the truth about these characters and getting some details mixed up.

What we needed was something to piece together all of the info we have into one coherent backstory, told in chronological order. And thanks to Shadow Generations, we have that, in the form of an official journal tying together what we knew from Sonic Adventure 2, Shadow '05, and Sonic Battle into the tragic tale of Gerald's rise and fall.

Ian Flynn was the perfect man for the job here as the guy who started his career by tidying up the mess that was the first 159 issues if Archie Sonic. This is what he excels at: taking disparate bits of weird Sonic lore from multiple different sources, boiling them down to their most interesting elements, and connecting it together in a way that will make the audience see the dramatic potential he's always known was there. Rather than feeling like a cynical exercise in franchise building, going back and explaining things that never needed explaining so that people can add more bullet points to the wiki, he puts a new spin on things that retroactively enriches those past stories. The story here means something to the characters involved and gives us a better understanding of them as people, rather than as plot devices to motivate Shadow.

(And, of course, Ian didn't do this journal alone. He wrote the story, but I also have to give a huge shout out to Evan Stanley, who made the final product. All of her handwritten journal entries, sketches, and "photos" included throughout. The physical damage done to the journal over the course of 50 tumultuous years, passing from Gerald to Eggman to a certain special someone at GUN. The way Gerald's handwriting gets less and less legible as his mental state declines. So much love was put into what could have been a mere text dump in a menu, and it really elevates it to the next level. Congrats on officially getting hired by Sega, Evan, you've sure as hell earned it!)

The main idea the journal conveys is that Gerald was under a lot of pressure from a lot of different parties—GUN, the President, his colleagues aboard the ARK, Black Doom, even his own family—and boy did it get to him. The known incidents aboard the ARK mentioned in previous games are put together here to form a story where everything slowly spirals out of control as Gerald keeps compromising his morals to further his research, thinking he'll eventually find some way out of all this because he's a genius. I won't recap that whole story here (if you haven't already played the game and read the journal entries, I would highly recommend at least reading it on the Sonic wiki), but I'd like to highlight my favorite elements of the story, as Ian tells it here.

1) The Eclipse Cannon

Here's something that never quite made sense in Sonic Adventure 2: why does the ARK have a laser that can blow up the Earth built into it? It was supposed to be a peaceful research colony. Sure, Gerald went crazy and swore revenge on the Earth, but, like... when did he have an opportunity to go back up to the ARK and modify it? Did he have someone else do it? How? The ARK was raided by GUN and shut down! And then they arrested him, held him in prison for an unclear period of time, and executed him by firing squad when he was no longer useful! It doesn't add up. Shadow 'the Hedgehog '05 would give its own answer by introducing the Black Arms and saying that the Eclipse Cannon was always supposed to be a secret trump card against the Black Comet. But, like... we know that's kind of a bullshit answer, right? You don't need enough power to blow up a whole planet just to destroy a comet.

Well, the new journal retains what we already knew, but it paints a much more complete picture.

See, long before Gerald ever made a Faustian bargain with Black Doom, he had already made one with an even greater evil: the military. GUN gave Gerald much of the funding for the ARK, Gerald's personal utopian research station in space, but it didn't take long for GUN to start pressuring him to design them weapons. Gerald tried to get GUN off his back by personally contacting the President of the United Federation, and the President gave him an alternative: how about, instead, you just use your genius brain to figure out the secret to immortality for us, so our soldiers can be immortal? Gerald was initially sickened by the notion and found it completely absurd, like chasing a shadow... but given no other option, the sarcastically named Project Shadow soon began in earnest. (Maria would later put a more positive spin on the name after Shadow's awakening, pointing out that a Shadow can show us the direction of the light, like she says in the game itself.)

Of course, this search for the ultimate life form didn't go very well, and without any results on that front GUN kept hounding him for weapons. Gerald would throw them a bone here and there to get them off his back. His research on Chaos resulted in the Artifical Chaos prototypes, which he worried would be used for warfare but could at least theoretically be used for search and rescue missions in floods, in his mind. But that wasn't enough. So he gave them Chaos Drives to power their mechs. And that still wasn't enough. He's got Emerl. He'll give them Emerl. They're not impressed by Emerl. They'll shut the whole ARK down if Gerald doesn't give them something big.

Fine! GUN wants something big? Gerald builds a huge fucking laser cannon into the ARK. However, as a middle finger to GUN, Gerald makes it so powerful that it would destroy the Earth if it was ever fired at any target on its surface. In other words, GUN now has their ultimate weapon of mass destruction, fulfilling his contract, but they can never actually use it. Oh, the delicious irony. (And also Shadow will blow up the Black Comet with it in 50 years yada yada yada.) Is this perhaps extremely shortsighted and naive of Gerald, to believe that such a weapon would never actually be used just because of the risk? Of course. But hey, that's Gerald for you. And I love this as an answer.

(Also, this, uh, kinda echoes something from real life! Remember the bit in Oppenheimer where he says all nuclear war will become unthinkable, and Edward Teller responds "until somebody builds a bigger bomb"? Yeah, Teller went on to conceptualize a superweapon codenamed Project Sundial that would have been able to kill all life on the planet, as the ultimate deterrent for war. This was never made for obvious reasons, but hey, there's a basis for this sort of thinking outside of heightened sci-fi! There's a whole Kurzgesagt video about this if you're interested.)

2) The Biolizard

The Biolizard is, of course, brought up as the initial failed prototype of the ultimate life form, from before Gerald met Black Doom. We don't really learn all that much about it that we didn't already know, but I just love the way it's framed in the story.

As you can see above, we actually get to see a picture of Maria holding up the cute little salamander that would end up mutating into the Biolizard through Gerald's experiments. (Researchers want to figure out how to replicate salamanders' regenerative abilities for humans in real life, too, so this was a natural starting point for the project.) And then, after it grows to a monstrous size and goes out of control, Gerald has to lock it away in an unused sector of the ARK. He needs to keep the poor thing alive for his research into harnessing Chaos Energy, building life support systems directly into it, but he doesn't have the heart to tell Maria what happened. So it just becomes this first dark secret weighing on his conscience. The Biolizard becomes Gerald's Tell-Tale Heart beating beneath the floorboards of the ARK. I love that.

3) Lost Impact was the breaking point for the ARK

Remember the level Lost Impact in Shadow '05? The flashback level on the hero path where Shadow is running around fighting Artificial Chaos enemies on the ARK 50 years ago? Yeah, that wasn't just a random incident. That was important, as we now know due to its placement on the timeline.

See, Emerl's rampage aboard the ARK that was chronicled in Sonic Battle and Dark Beginnings set off a domino effect. Emerl riled up the Artificial Chaos, causing Gerald to lose control of them. They became violent, and so Shadow had to stop them, as depicted in Lost Impact. The thing is, that incident sent an SOS signal to GUN telling them that shit was going down on the ARK. Gerald didsn't fully understand the trouble he was in and assumed that he'd simply be reprimanded by the higher ups, or maybe face legal action. But, well... the next time he heard from GUN, armed troopers were raiding the ARK.

So Lost Impact was the straw that broke the camel's back. I just really like that detail.

4) Maria

And, of course, there's Maria herself. Maria has often been more of a symbol than a character, this perfect embodiment of everything that's good and pure in this world who gets killed to motivate Shadow and Gerald's revenge plots. But I really like the wrinkles this journal adds to her and Gerald's story, and their relationship. This is the most fleshed out they've ever felt.

For one, the journal leans into the idea of Maria's intellectual potential. The rest of the Robotnik family is all geniuses, after all, and she was proving to be a really bright kid. She excelled in her studies on the ARK, and she even helped design Shadow's jet skates and inhibitor rings. When Maria died, the world didn't just lose a symbolic personification of purity. She genuinely could have been a hugely influential scientist who did so much good for the world. That's what Gerald wanted for her. But we'll never know, because GUN killed her.

Speaking of her family, their presence isn't just mentioned for the sake of fleshing out the Robotnik family tree. It's mentioned that as Gerald struggled to find a cure for Maria's illness through his genetic research, he faced mounting pressure from his family. They didn't want Maria to be up on the ARK forever. They wanted Gerald to hurry up and find a damn cure, or otherwise just send her back home to Earth so she could be with her family again. She'd been up on the ARK for so long that Gerald's coworkers started thinking that she had been born up there. Eventually she gains a baby sister on Earth who she's never met. A rift forms between Gerald's two sons, and he's unable to really deal with it because he's so consumed by his work. There's this sense that the family is falling apart, and that everyone is dreading the possibility that Gerald will never find a cure and that Maria will just spend her final years up in space and die far away from her family, because Gerald just couldn't let go. If that happens, it'll break the whole family. But he can't stop now. So he just keeps working. Curing Maria is the only way to win his family back, in his eyes. It can't all be for nothing.

But my favorite detail regarding Maria is this one paragraph:

Maria is growing into a lovely young woman. It breaks my heart that someone as bright and energetic as her is diminished by disease. There are no visible effects, and I've caught my fellow researchers muttering to each other, doubting her illness. It is infuriating. I find all my reason and restraint vanishes when she's slighted.

This is SUCH a great addition to the story! It's always been true that Maria doesn't really seem all that ill, just looking at her in cutscenes. With this one little comment, Ian flips that issue on its head and turns it into a story about invisible disability. She doesn't act like she's in chronic pain, so she must not be, everyone thinks. And this really, really gets to Gerald, as does the pressure from his family. He's dedicating his whole LIFE to saving her, and they think she's faking it?! It's such a small addition, never referenced elsewhere in the journal, but it adds so much flavor to the story, as does the implied family drama. It grounds Gerald and Maria and makes them feel more like real human beings, rather than being pure archetypes. It's just enough info to let my imagination run wild filling in the blanks.

You also get the feeling that Maria being such a walking ray of sunshine was the only real source of joy Gerald had left in his life before Shadow was awakened, and the only thing keeping him from snapping under pressure sooner. All this stuff just keeps piling on, everything's spiraling out of control, but at least Maria is keeping her chin up, right? It makes so much sense that losing her would make him go off the deep end when it's framed like this.

It's just... man, I never thought I'd care so much about Gerald and Maria. But that's the Ian Flynn touch. After years of less than stellar Sonic writing that seemed to be embarrassed of itself, I'm so happy to have new games coming out that fully embrace the history of the series like this, making its world feel so rich and real instead of just serving as an excuse for a string of platforming levels. I don't even like Shadow '05, but I'll be damned if Ian and the rest of Sonic Team didn't make something amazing by "yes, and"-ing Shadow's cringe past here. Sonic has truly reached levels of "we're so back" never thought possible.

[teambyler]

My video "A LAWYER'S EVIDENCE that Mike and Will become a romantic pair in Stranger Things" is out!

Many of you have followed me ( @teambyler ) or read my essays analyzing Byler (I've linked some of the most-shared ones below). I am actually also a LAWYER who has a YouTube channel called RONALD OFF THE RECORD, and I just released my big video on Byler! (I also have another YouTube channel with 45K subscribers that I mention in the video)

I'm prepared to put my professional reputation as a lawyer on the line to comment on a piece of science fiction, because goddammit this is important to me! It is not "delusional" to think Will and Mike will become a couple, and there is nothing wrong with you if want it to happen! This is a video essay I've been planning for at least SIX MONTHS, and I put a lot of work into it. Please share, and please leave comments. Enjoy! =D

0:00 Why this video 1:38 Hate for Byler on the internet 10:16 Case for Mileven 15:21 Case for Byler: Starting premises 17:56 If Will were a girl… 25:30 The evidence! 29:05 EXHIBIT A: The Snow Ball 31:34 B: Mike's reactions to El and Will being upset 34:21 C: Season 3 ending montage 39:16 D: Airport reunion 47:51 E: Rink-O-Mania argument 51:28 F: Heteronormativity, audience expectations 58:25 G: Throwing away the letter 59:55 H: 2nd heart-to-heart scene 1:05:43 I: Mike can't say he loves El 1:13:27 J: Platonic reunion 1:15:12 K: Will's role convincing Mike to say "I love you" 1:20:08 L: Effect of the "love confession" on El 1:39:54 M: The Painting Lie 1:43:22 Honorable mentions 1:45:27 Non-diegetic evidence 2:01:23 Actor statements 2:07:01 Season 5 information 2:10:34 NOT how you write an unrequited love story 2:16:07 Why Byler SHOULD happen (queerbaiting, etc.) 2:28:21 A more powerful story 2:35:45 A personal note

I'm now making this my new pinned post, so I'll list a few of my posts here for people to check out.

ADDITIONS: -28:00 On "We should normalize same-sex friends being affectionate, they don't have to be gay," I should have been clearer. HOMOPHOBIA is the reason for that stigma. Straight friends feeling like they can be affectionate in our society HAS to include normalizing LGBT+ people. -1:16:55 I should've said this more clearly: Will reminded Mike that who HE is, HIS unique qualities, make him worthy of love and make El love him, not dumb luck. And Will of course could convey that because Will loves the actual nerd MIke and everything he is. -1:17:06 Mike making El "not feel like a mistake" doesn't fit El, because she says that Mike looks at her "like I'm a monster, too". Nor did she "push you away because she was afraid of losing you". That's Will, not El. Mike felt love because Will was describing himself. -1:52:36 I forgot to mention that, in the original Nina opera, Nina's lover is ALIVE and DOES return. The Duffers changed the story so that Nina's lover does NOT return, to further suggest Mike won't return! -2:35:22 I'm kicking myself for not being more specific about Mike and Will being heroes in more than one way: I think the theme of bullying from s1 will return, with Will (and also Mike) having to face bullying for being boyfriends in Hawkins.

Some other @teambyler posts:

Mike was saying "I love you" to Will

Questions to ask if ever you have Byler doubt

How the Duffers have set Will up to have a happy ending in Season 5

The most heartbreaking way Byler can culminate (and how I predict it will) (I know this is less likely than an "escape from Camazotz" possession scenario, but I still want this to happen =D )

How the Duffers likely will make the general audience AWARE of Byler and CHEER for Byler

-teambyler

[katmaibearfan]

New To The Bear Cams? Start Here!

This is not a complete guide -- check my pinned post for more in-depth information! My Bear Terminology I Use and My Tagging System Explainer posts are both going to be helpful for people seeking more information.

So, like, how do the cams work?

First, a link to the bear cams, so you know where to find them. Next -- there are many cameras located around Brooks River, and there is a handy labeled map here. There are six main bear cameras -- three cameras near the waterfall, Brooks Falls (BF), Brooks Falls Low (BLF) and Riffles (RF), and three cams downriver, Kat's River View (KRV), River Watch (RW), and the Underwater Salmon Cam (UW). In addition, there is a camera on Dumpling Mountain (DM) that has a lovely view of the whole Brooks Camp area, and a camera on the Naknek River (NR) that sees beautiful sunsets during bear season and beluga whales in the off season! You can switch between these cams by clicking on the one you want to move to -- they're located under the livestream you're currently watching.

The cameras are controlled remotely by volunteer camera operators for Explore, called CamOps. They do not read chat during their shifts, so don't tag them in anything or try to tell them what to do. They are trained, they have guidelines they must follow, and they have a lot of experience doing this -- the Katmai CamOp positions at Explore are highly coveted, and they have to work on other wildlife cams for a while before they are allowed to work the Katmai cams. They'll post in chat when the shift changes, so give them a heartfelt "thank you!" for donating their time to let us see all the lovely things these bears have to offer!

The cams are hosted on Explore.org, which has so many other livestreams! i only really frequent the Katmai Cams, but I do pop in to check on the Walrus and Puffin cams from time to time! Though you don't need an account to watch any of the cams, I highly suggest making one -- especially if you want to take snapshots! If you are logged in, any snapshots you take will automatically be saved to your gallery on explore, so you don't even have to download anything!

In addition, being logged in means you can comment in the chat underneath the livestream, though you can view comments without an account. This is helpful for lots of reasons, but especially for identifying bears and getting answers to any questions you might have. Don't be anxious, come say hi -- We're all here because we love these bears, and we're always happy to see new faces! There are a few folks in the explore chat who are incredibly good at identifying bears. Genuinely, I am an amateur, and a lot of the IDs I post here are crowdsourced from them.

The shape of the season

June is when the cams turn on, and it's quiet -- the bears are returning to the area after hibernation, so they're still sleepy, and the salmon haven't arrived yet. Sows that gave birth over the winter will return with their brand new spring cubs, and sows who enter into estrus will emancipate any cubs they have. It's also mating season (more on that later), which means fighting, playing, courting, and mating are all common. Oh, and the bears will generally look skrungled -- this is because they are shedding out of their winter coats and into their summer ones.

July is hectic -- the salmon arrive, and with them, a ton of activity. The run comes in pulses, slowly increasing in size and frequency until it hits a crescendo and then tapers off again. You can expect up to 30 bears to be at the falls during the peak, all feasting on the hundreds of thousands of salmon that descend upon the river! As the summer days in Alaska are very long -- Katmai peaks at about 18 hours and 20 minutes of daylight on the solstice -- you can find active bears on the cams essentially whenever during this time. Most subadults and sows with young cubs stay in the lower river because it is less crowded, and therefore safer. Up at the falls, you can expect to see lots of boars and single sows, with the boars frequently arguing and fighting over the best fishing spots.

August is quiet again. The salmon are almost completely gone, so many bears leave to go fish elsewhere -- "August Walkabouts", we call them -- and some bears who leave during this time may not come back again until next season. The ones who stick around spend their days fishing what they can, playing, and resting after the chaotic, salmon-filled month they just had.

September is the Fall Feast -- the bodies of the salmon who have spawned and died begin floating downriver. These salmon are not as nutritious as the ones caught in July, but they are still food, so the bears do still eat them. Many (but not all) bears return from their walkabouts, and other bears appear for their first visit of the season. Most of the action here is in the lower river, where you may see some bears diving for fish. Its still slower and less crowded than July, but its more activity than in August.

October sees the end of the fall feast, and the beginning of hibernation season. The bears who are still around will mostly just be chilling & hanging out. there could be some epic nap sessions, or late-season playing. Subadults and Sows with cubs will be the first to go to den, followed by sows without cubs, and finally the boars. Also, October is generally when Fat Bear Week happens, so keep an eye out for that!

By early November, most of the bears will have gone to den, the cams will shut off, and a season of bear watching will conclude once more.

Coat Changes

The bears will, broadly speaking, start the summer much lighter than they end up being by the time fall rolls around. As a result, many bears will look totally different in June than they do in September. Some bears, like 128 Grazer, may only darken a bit or darken unevenly, but others like 903 Gully or 131 Marshmallow will darken a lot. This change will happen slowly, over the course of the summer. This means that bears that stay around for August are pretty easy to track through these coat changes, but bears who leave and then come back in September can be tricky to identify if you aren't familiar with what their fall coat looks like.

If you want to know what a specific bear looks like in early summer vs fall, I suggest looking through my tag for them and taking note of the dates on the post. All bears are tagged by their number, and separately by their nickname (if they have one). For example, 131 Marshmallow is tagged both "#bear131" and "#marshmallow", but 856 is just tagged "#bear856".

Bear Pregnancy, Mating, and Cubs

Cubs are born in mid-winter, roughly late January to early February, while their mother is hibernating. They are very small when they are born, about 1 pound (0.45kg). By the time we see them on the cams, they have already done quite a lot of growing!

But how do we end up with cubs? Well, its quite different from human pregnancy! Mating season is in June, and during this time you will likely see boars following after sows. A sow in estrus gives off pheromones that alert boars to their presence, and boars who are interested will begin following that scent. This courting chase can last for quite a while -- sometimes up to a week -- with the boar following close behind the sow. Sometimes a sow may even approach a boar, seemingly asking him to follow her.

Sows and boars both will mate with multiple partners during mating season, and though some particularly dominant boars may attempt to keep a particular sow from mating with anyone else for the duration of her estrus period, they usually are not successful. As a result, cubs from the same litter may have different fathers!

Though mating season is in June, a phenomena known as delayed implantation means that sows don't actually "become pregnant" until after they go to den for the winter -- and only if they have enough fat stored for them and their potential cubs to survive the whole ordeal. In addition, heavier sows tend to give birth to larger litters, with the largest sows having litters of up to 4 cubs!

Fighting

There's gonna be bear fights. Sometimes the bear fights get nasty. Usually, the bear fights are between adults, most often boars, but adult boars do sometimes attack, and occasionally kill, cubs. You can see my trigger tag policy here.

For the livecams themselves, though -- CamOps will not shy away from violence. In fact, you can generally expect them to focus on violence when it happens, so if you see a fight starting and don't want to see it, you should probably move to a different camera! While many fights between adults end with "only a few scratches" (which may still be big enough to scar), some fights will end with nasty looking injuries that can leave big, lasting, nasty scars -- which the biggest boars often end up covered in by their old age.

It is often helpful to keep in mind that these fights are part of their life. It is how brown bears are. Big injuries can look really nasty, but they are bears, and they are built to survive these things. Cub deaths are always deeply sad to us humans, especially when they happen on camera or at the hands of a well-loved boar, but they are also normal and expected -- only roughly half of cubs at Katmai survive, and you must be ready to confront this fact if you want to watch the bear cams.

In Conclusion

I'll add to this post as I think of more stuff, other things to link to, etc. Oh, and welcome to the bear cam community, we're very happy to have you join us!

[delusionalalien]

[Embrace You, Devour You] [Prologue] YANDERE!Mark Grayson x Fem!Reader x YANDERE!Variant!Invincibles

this is what happens when my hubby, Tsugikuni Yoriichi, don't get enough fanfictions made about him tsk tsk.

this is hot garbage btw.

note : i'm doing this for fun, and I'm mentally disturb with no writing skills whatsoever so don't expect S class writing. English is NOT my first language so my grammar is really bad. I also have no idea how Tumblr post works

note 2 : They start out as kids in the first few chapters so its pretty innocent...? but I'm leaving the TW and tags here just in case anyone reading this garbage knows what they signed up for ahahsghbgavsfhashajgsgc

next chapter T.W / Tags: slow-burn, soft yandere(main mark), pinning, mark is bat shit crazy on the inside but he good dw(like he wont end the world unless you die lol), baby-trapping (believe it or not), teen pregnancy, yandere variants (they did so much worse in their universe), mark a lil pushy (i still love him), breeding kink (cant forget about that), prob missing more tags but ill add them later as this story progress

(Name) is starting to understand feelings and she's scared ):

It first started with a simple and innocent feeling.

Mark Grayson and (Name) are childhood best friends, next door neighbors that had one parent as a superhero. Every sleepover, every birthday parties, and each and every playdates, attended to since both of you live close to one another. you both were close, closer than what both your parents shares about you two to strangers or friends. yet neither of you cared for that as long as you had each other.

At first (Name) didn't think much of it, didn't understand the feelings you felt towards Mark, just that you understood that you really like being around him, standing next to him, playing with him, and listening to him ramble about the latest superhero that caught his attention or the newest addition Seance Dog that your mother gifted him on his birthday. All ears as you drowned in the way he speaks.

something about him makes you feel special, like you have been seen and understood, was it bad that you think he feels the same way too?

Then comes the budding plant that blossomed uncontrollably as you grew- grew to understand why you like being with him, like when you held hands as you both walk to school when you both miss the bus, like when he talks and rambles over anything he was interested in. You were head over heels in love and you're scared. Scared to lose the friendship, scared to be treated differently.

And you went home, crying uncontrollably because not only did you love Mark, you also had to walk in the scorching heat because of course a villain just had to show up during your summer classes.

Worse of all, Mark saw you cry the day you understood these feelings. Witness from the window that faced both your bedrooms, the very same window where you both would stay late at night just to talk until his father tells you both to go to sleep. Mark opens the window and leaned over to knock on yours. a pleading look to open, the very same ones when he sees you having a bad day.

How can you ever deny him when he looks this sad.

"Are you okay?"

Mark, the 12 year old next door neighbor, who you have a crush on hops on over and flops right on to your bed with his back pressed to the wall. You slide the window shut again and wiped the tears away.

"M'fine."

"We'll you're crying, that means you are not fine." Mark pouts and crosses his arms, scanning you over to see what could possibly upset you so much that you had to cry tears.

"Was Rebecca being mean to you again?" He gasped as if he figured the cause of your tears, "me and William will go and give her a piece of our minds!"

"it's not her this time, Mark..." you laid on your bed facing the opposite from mark. hands clutched near your heart to calm the erratic thumps. unable to speak as the words clogged inside your throat.

Mark ever the dork he was jumped over you only to land on the floor with a thud.

"Mark!"

"I'm okay!"

He popped back up just to sit on the floor, elbows propped against the bed and his head on his hands. grinning and waiting for you to tell him about your struggles. his ears were a little red and you cant help but giggle how he was playing it off like he hadn't hurt himself.

Mark smiled, "You laughed!" you feel his finger poke your cheek "Does that mean you aren't sad anymore?"

shaking your head, you sat up right and sighed.

"Still sad, but with you around I always feel better. Thanks, you dork."

"w-well I'm glad you feel better."

Mark coughed and cleared his throat, "so, what's on your mind?"

You stared into his eyes, and suddenly that feeling in your heart intensifies, your face was warmer and your palms began to sweat.

you wanted, no, you needed him to know what you feel but you couldn't because you fear change. so you began stammering trying to a make passable excuse to give.

"I, uh, i, i just really want a dog!"

"Isn't your mom allergic?"

Mark leaned back and gave you the most baffled look that he knows that you know that you we're lying. the perks of living next to each other your whole lives.

You slapped yourself mentally. Out of all the lies you can say, why an animal that you're mother is deathly allergic too?

"come on (Name) you can tell me anything, we're best friends right? and as best friends we don't hide anything from each other!"

Mark watches you bury yourself in your blankets. You felt your heart aching slightly. Friends, of course he only saw you as a friend never will it be anything else, not now, not in the future. You felt like crying but not here, god forbid he ever catches you crying again.

You hear him shuffle as the bed dips from his weight before he yanks your blankets off you.

"Mark!" you fought him back by trying to take back the sheet.

"Tell me what's wrong first!" He held onto the blanket with all the strength he's got. Damn him and his alien genes, despite not awakening his powers yet he was strong, stronger than you at least.

After a bit, you relent and Mark smiled victorious. patiently he waits for you to confess, to answer for the tears he saw you shed earlier in his bedroom.

your heart raced. we're you going to really tell him now? what if he says he doesn't like you? "Mark... I, I like-"

The boy perks up. Eagerly waits to what you had to say, his brown eyes sparkling.

"I LIKE TODD!"

...

...

"... what?"

"what?"

[appalachiancowboy99]

Special Thank You and WIP Update!

Photos by @restingmadface

Wow. What a year it's been, huh? I know, I know, I'm a month too late for New Years, but I wanted to stop by anyway and make an update post for y'all! I've been wracking my brain for the last couple of weeks, trying to figure out exactly what I want to say here, but everything is far too jumbled for me to pinpoint the exact thoughts in a cohesive manner. So, just bear with me as I try to comb through the mess and pick out the most important bits! 💕😁

First of all, I wanna thank each and every single one of y'all for the love you've given me 💕 It's hard for me to fathom that over 170 of you decided to stick around and give me your continued support! Not to mention over 1,000 of you took the time to interact with After Dark (Hold on a minute while I go CRY)!!!!! It means the world to me that y'all enjoy my little ramblings, although far and few between they might be. Without y'all, I wouldn't have had the courage to continue working on this ole' blog. So, thank you so so so much for each little heart, comment, and interaction- they never go unnoticed by me!

The friendships I've made within this community in the last year will last me a lifetime. I hadn't expected to meet so many kind people and form such long lasting relationships. So, I wanna give the biggest of thank-yous to: @photo1030, @tortureddpoett, @grymghoul, @emerald-ranch, @pinescent-and-gingerbread, @zae-heeyyy, @cassietrn, @moeitsu, @twola, @redwritr, @wipidek, @subpopizzy, @coltermorning, @amorgansgal and so many more that I've gotten the pleasure to interact with over the last year. I love each and every single one of you dearly and I'll always be wishing you absolutely nothing but the best! 💕

Now onto the juicy bits:

From here on out I wanna focus more energy into keepin' y'all updated instead of just having long bouts of time between posting- even if that means a work in progress post every other month! So, I suppose this'll be my first post to start the year off right! I have two current WIPs that are listed on my Masterlist:

A Cure for the Common Cold (ask/one-shot)

The Heart of an Outlaw - Chapter 1: Gone Honeymooning

Both of those works will be out within the year, though, the ask/one-shot will be posted much sooner than the first chapter of the series! There's just so much I got cookin' up in my brain, so thank y'all so much for being patient with me as I flesh these bad boys out! As promised, here's a little snippet from A Cure for the Common Cold:

-

He could watch you like this forever: hair haphazardly pinned up in a bun, wet curls clinging to the base of your neck, cheeks flushed, and eyes fluttering shut as your lips wrap around the red-ripened, fleshy fruit of the strawberry he offers you. Sweetness rolls over your tongue for the first time in what feels like weeks, coming in cresting waves of pleasure with each decadent bursting of flavor as you chew. Though, nothing is as pleasurable as the comforting warmth of his chest behind you, or how his left arm is slung lazily around the softness of your middle beneath the steaming, sudsy water like an anchor planting you right where you need to be.

Lazy, wet kisses brush over the ball of your shoulder, rounding up the supple dip of your neck in a delicate dance of tender passion. It's a subtle shift there, but you feel it. Right there in the pit of your stomach it simmers like a kettle over a roaring flame.

"You like that?" He hums when the soft touch of his lips meets the shell of your ear.

Oh, what you wouldn't give to turn your head and press your lips to his. He's right there, mere inches away from giving you what you want. But there in lies the game: no lip-smacked affection or the smothered press of love's promise, lest you infect him with the very cold that's plaguing you.

A/N: WIP snibbit is subject to change in the final post! Sending y'all some additional love 🤗💕

[captain-huggy-bear]

hey! girlbi loveee all of your writing sooo much it’s crazyy but could you do some Kess fluff? if that’s alright, maybe like where they r both yearning for one another, maybe shes a PWHL player and ya if not tho it’s totally fine.

(you made me such a kess girly it ain’t funny like BRUH)

[can i be 🎈 nonnie? if you do that?]😭

Soz about making you obsessed with this man, but also not sorry at all lol Requests are open for specific people only, please see my pinned post for details :) Writing Masterlist

When Utah get their first PWHL team things change for Michael...they change for all the guys in some ways. Suddenly they're sharing a practice facility and an arena with an additional group of hockey players and these ones being women, a weird sort of navigation of niceties and trying to be respectful while also appreciating their skill. What changes things for Michael is the first time he decides to sit and watch.

The first practice he goes to you catch his eye. God, you're so good at what you do, his mirror image in some ways, on defence like him but with less of that massively imposing size, although you hold your own. You're quick. So fast, practically a speed skater and you're the sort of player that knows how to defend but also scores ridiculously often for a D-man. It's impressive. You're impressive.

On top of that? You're hot. Like, it's hot enough that you're good at his sport. But you're pretty too, gorgeous. Gorgeous when you get to the practice facility in your sweats, gorgeous when you play all suited and booted, gorgeous especially when you take that bucket off at the end of the game, hair sweaty, skin glowing. God...and it's stupid, he knows it's stupid. He shouldn't be pining after someone, shouldn't be acting like some obsessive fan by going to all the games he can, by following you with his eyes whenever he sees you around even though he's too scared to go up to you and say hi.

It's stupid that he keeps coming to every practice that he can, the games he can...and people start to notice, of course they notice one of Utah's key NHL players coming to the PWHL games more often than any of the other guys. It's going to get some attention. Pictures of him at the games turn up on social media, people start to speculate.

They also start to notice you too, because Michael goes to watch you play and practice, but you've started to do the same thing. You're at his practices, at his games when you're both in town. People start to speculate even more, theories springing up all over the internet...the truth simply being that you're both pining and pining hard and not brave enough to do anything about it. You haven't even said hi to each other in passing.

Until you do...

He's coming down the corridor towards you, hair wet from a post-practice shower, big hoodie making him look oh so cosy...and you're going to your practice, in your own cosy clothes, not yet having sweated out half the liquid in your body. Maybe it's the fact you did your hair extra nice today or that you picked the leggings that you know make your ass and hips look extra good. Maybe it's the panic that does it, but whatever it is you're suddenly blurting out a greeting.

"Hi!"

He stops in the hallway, all big wide eyes and open mouthed, like you've shocked him, like he's not expecting your voice, to hear you talking to him. You're looking at him the same way because you did not expect that either, it almost feels like someone else was speaking.

"...h-hey.." He doesn't know what to do with his hands, moving them up and down, fluttering at his side because shit, you're actually talking to him. You're talking to him.

"Good practice?" You're not in control of your voice at this point, shoulders tense because you're not sure how you're having a conversation with him right now. God, he's so handsome. His stupid chain has fallen out of his hoodie, his hair is messy, and the way he looks at you like that has you nervous.

"Uh, yeah, you...you practicing now?"

"Yeah...you...do you wanna watch?" You're not sure where you got the fucking confidence, stomach full of butterflies, feeling like you might be sick because you just asked Michael Kesselring to watch you practice.

"Uh, sure, yeah, that...that'd be cool."

"Maybe...maybe we could get coffee after? Or not! Whatever, it's cool!" You instantly regret asking because that was too far, right? That was definitely too far and he's going to think you're a weirdo and never want to be in the same room as you again...and that's going to be difficult because you practice and work at the same place.

"No! No...I mean, that'd be good, I'd like that." Michael is certain he must be dreaming because girls like you do not ask guys like him for coffee. He's awkward and weird and just...he's Michael. And you're you. You're so cool it makes him feel like he's ruining your vibe just being stood this close to you.

You point behind him towards the locker rooms, "Cool...I've....I'm going to go change...see you behind the glass?" You're not sure how your voice isn't shaking but you thank whatever God exists that you've made it this far.

"Definitely."

As you walk away you're almost certain your monologue of 'fuck, fuck, fuck,' has come out of your mouth, but it's just Michael, stood behind you swearing under his breath, hands running through his hair because you just asked him to get coffee and he's certain he's going to fuck this up so bad. You're so fucking hot.

[thedevilsoftruth]

♡ Steaming cold! ☆

B. Barnes x f! Reader

Tags: Basically just temperature play and cunnilingus w/ Bucky. Short lil drabble I made to take a break from another Bucky fic I might finish tomorrow. It is once again 4am and I am once again serving you drabbles. Eat up, sluts. /j ( ily )

P.S My marvel request box Is open again, please see my pinned post for additional information.

18+ content, MDNI! I am not responsible for what you find on the internet.

Bucky's vibranium arm is cold when you're just starting out your little sex session. It's because of this that one of his favorite things about fucking you is seeing your reaction to his cold hand touching you. It's such an oddly erotic sensation. His flesh hand is warm compared to his vibranium one. It gives you goosebumps each time it happens, even though it's what you expect.

But what you didn't expect that night, was for him to pull out a little cup of ice water with extra ice.

" Are you okay with this? " He asks you, picking out a perfectly circular ice cube from the glass cup that he set in the nightstand. He had told you previously that temperature play was a kink of his. It was only a matter of time before you two finally acted it out.

You nod your head, and that's all the confirmation he needs.

He opens your legs a little bit more, his left hand running down your thigh before he slowly brought the ice cube down onto your skin. You bit down on your finger as his warm lips dragged across the inside of your thighs. His broad shoulders forced your legs more open as he lowered his head down between them.

Your breath hitched, the little hairs on your body standing on edge as his tongue made contact with your aching core. The ice cube gradually begins to melt away, dragging little droplets of water in it's trail down your thigh. You were fighting back involuntary little muscle jerks and noises so hard. Your toes were curled into the red silky sheets on the bed, your finger trapped between your anxious teeth.

" Relax, " he whispers, giving your clit a little kiss, his vibranium hand running down the back of your thigh, making you whimper. He drags the ice cube, which is now only half it's original size, onto your pelvic bone, before he places it directly onto your needy clit.

You gasp at the contact, your thighs squeezing his head and your hips lifting off the mattress. He directed the ice cube across your heated folds, making you quiver and shake in his arms each time it'd move against you. The water from the ice cube almost acted as a lubricant for you.

Bucky's lips latch around your clit, sucking on it gently as the ice cube travels down to your entrance. He pulls back, and with his vibranium hand, he circles his two prosthetic fingers around your little bundle of nerves, while he twists and turns the ice cube around your entrance. The feeling has you absolutely desperate for him.

" Bucky, " you moan, your head falling onto the pillows as his fingers run harsh circles around your clit.

" I know, baby. " He cooes. " Feels so good, doesn't it? "

[lesbianrobin]

observations from grading hundreds of american college students' discussion posts and essays about film

before i get into this i want to be SO clear that this is not meant to be a "kids these days" thing, but more a commentary on the contemporary media landscape and the impacts of new media on young people's consumption habits. i think that young people's expectations of film are primarily a reflection of how they've been taught to watch and process film.

also, i teach intro, so these are not necessarily film or even humanities majors. many of my students are in computer science, engineering, etc. okay yay let's go <3

most american college students have quite literally Never seen a single movie that was not in english, and are very resistant to reading subtitles.

i've had multiple students comment that non-english language films which require them to read subtitles force them to actually look at the screen, which makes them notice more details in the film. they are not accustomed to actually Watching films, and doing so is novel to them. they're used to just turning things on in the background before doing other tasks/scrolling on their phones.

students frequently comment upon whether or not a film was able to hold their attention, and many consider it a failing of the film itself if not. many students also lose interest when they are confused or uncertain about what is happening in a movie, rather than becoming more invested or intrigued.

some do note that they have short attention spans, and will clearly state that they do not watch or enjoy many movies because of this.

things which students see as inherently boring include black and white films, silent films, non-English-language films, and films more than twenty years old. many students were shocked when they enjoyed a film within any of the aforementioned categories.

a lot of students will see all of the pieces of the puzzle, but struggle to put them together. for example: they will note that a detective character seems to care more about pinning a crime on somebody than they care about actually solving it, that the detective is bad at their job, that the detective brutalizes suspects, but they will not quite reach the conclusion that the film is doing these things intentionally. rather than concluding that the film is criticizing the police, they will be upset that the character is so awful.

one student insisted that mad max: fury road is a deeply misogynistic film because the women were treated as objects and wore skimpy clothes. the fact that the entire plot of the film is about said women asserting their personhood and overthrowing the patriarchal order to establish a more egalitarian and empathetic matriarchy was not relevant to her; what mattered was how they looked, and no amount of explanation could change her mind. i don't really have a clear theory of what was going on here, but i wanted to share it because it feels. poignant. in a way i cannot articulate.

many students see "old" films as inherently worse than contemporary films. they will often say things like, "the movie was really good for something from the fifties."

a lot of people have never heard of alfred hitchcock. i don't rly have a take on this it just stunned me.

and this last one isn't necessarily film-specific, but i do think it's relevant to discussing media literacy and the quality of k-12 + STEM-focused university education: so many students do not know how to format a paper, and do not know how/do not think to look up a style guide or even consult the syllabus or assignment sheet.

students often add additional spaces between paragraphs, and/or use 1.15 pt. spacing rather than double spacing their papers. they'll use calibri or arial rather than times new roman, in 11 pt. font rather than 12. they'll write out their thesis separately from their paragraphs, or not write in paragraphs at all, instead writing something that looks closer to stream-of-consciousness bullet-point notes.

it seems to me that many students somehow make it through high school and into university without ever learning how to write a paper. what really concerns me however is the fact that this information is extremely available to them; in the class syllabus, on their assignment sheet, even if you just google how to write a paper. i'm no expert in education and i don't want to be alarmist, but i do think that there is a concerning lack of curiosity and care in many students, primarily those studying in STEM fields. part of this is just the fact that many of my students are used to writing lab reports and this is a different sort of writing, but the lack of flexibility and ability to engage with other subjects is very sad to me.

plenty of my students are curious and read the syllabus and pay attention to the films and know how to write! but the number of those who struggle to formulate a coherent paragraph, let alone paper, who cannot identify basic themes, indicates to me that young people are seriously suffering from shortened attention spans, the lack of popular non-english language film and television in american culture, and the proliferation of "second-screen" streaming content designed to be "viewed" by audiences who are not paying attention.

i don't have a remedy for this. i don't totally know why i'm typing this all out, except that my tenure as a teaching assistant is coming to an end and i felt an irrepressible urge to reflect upon the experience. idk i suppose i hope this will be interesting to somebody. if you made it this far, thank you and i hope you're well <3

[a3hl3y]

It's heerrrre! Well, it arrived a few days ago, but I have finally got enough courage to post about it (this is my first post on here lol)💪😎

They're all extremely cute! Can't wait to find a place to put all of them! I'm really happy I got the Percy set, not ro mention the addition of Deja's pin! Was not expecting that little pin addition, but am really happy nonetheless! Can't fathom enough on how happy I am for all the the stuff! Tysm @blank-house for the merch 🫶

Also, a little added bonus, I found this towel that I got last year when I went to the beach, it reminded me sm Percy so I had to get it lol. Posting it here as well 😌✨🌸

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Great Expectations 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, power imbalance, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Professor Holmes’ class is your most difficult, but he’s about to make it even more challenging.

Characters: Sherlock Holmes (modern AU)

Note: monday

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Friday arrives too quickly for your likely. Amid the usual cluster of readings, lectures, and assignments, you have Professor’s Holmes’ additional task to add to the pile. It feels unfair that he would point out your own efforts only to force more upon you. His praise hardly seems like that in retrospect. 

That you did the readings likely made your experience simpler, though the vague instructions leave you uncertain. No rubric, no objectives, no outline. Your format in the usual style and triple-check the word count before you resign yourself to fate or fortune, whichever favours you. 

As usual, Professor Holmes prefers a physical copy, neglecting the digital workspace designed by the campus for ease of access. He doesn’t seem to be the type for the easy way out, does he? You try not to malinger on your gripes and head off, promising to reward yourself with a double whip frap for your work. It’s certainly more than you’ll receive from your professor, even if you do manage to gleam your first A+ from the man. 

The softness of autumn mingles with the crispness of early winter. You mourn the orange and yellow leaves as they start to curl at the edges and brown, blowing across the pavement and catching on pantlegs and tree roots. Midterm season is almost over but it won’t be long before finals rise to haunt you. 

You come up the Herringbone building and look up at the romanticist arches and columns. The esteemed architecture has you feeling even smaller. Surely, the professor will only add to that. 

Inside, the air is dry from the heat blowing from the high vents and curved staircases crest the foyer. You follow the left one up and continue along to the small set of steps that lead up to a hallway with only three office doors. Holmes is at the very end. You went there once before when you needed to be signed into the course; he was certain to make you wait then threatened not to sign the form at all. 

You stop and stare at the frosted glass with his pedigree emblazoned on it. You contemplate just shoving the paper through his slot but the light is on. You raise your fist and gently tap on the wood. You bounce on your feet as you wait, tugging at the itchy collar of the blue sweater dotted with little clouds. In the warmth of the stuffy building and under your wool jacket, it’s stifling. 

You hear movement from within and ready yourself for the encounter. You don’t think you’ve ever talked to Professor Holmes without some degree of awkwardness. On your end, of course. He can’t be bothered to care what others think of him. 

The door opens and you try to smile but it feels like chewing rocks. He looks back at you without an ounce of emotion. You gulp. 

“Um, Professor, I have my paper--” 

He’s already walking away as you stand dumbly in the doorway. You blanch as he circles back to his desk and sits heavily in his seat. He leans forward and dips his head, bending over an open leather folio with a lined pad within. A curl falls onto his forehead and he reaches without looking for the pipe propped up on a mahogany tray. 

“Come in,” he says before he puts the pipe to his lips and bites down. He teethes on it as he snatches up a pen with his other hand. You warily obey and cross the threshold. 

“So, um, here you go,” you near the desk and lay down the stapled paper. He doesn’t look up. “Erm, thanks, professor. I hate to disturb, so I’ll just leave it here--” 

He sighs and sits up, flicking back the curl as he replaces the pipe on the tray, “they won’t let me light that, even with the window open.” 

You glance over at the drawn curtains and nod, “oh.” 

“You’re the first,” he interjects before you can summon any sort of response. 

“Ah, oh--” 

“You are rather quick, aren’t you?” He challenges as he rolls the pen between his fingers, his shoulders spreading wide against the puckered leather chair, “fleet of foot, as some Victorian ponce might say. Quiet.” 

You blink and purse your lips, giving a shrug. 

“You didn’t say hello,” he intones, “it is courteous when you see an acquaintance to greet them, though I suppose etiquette does continue to change.” 

“Um, I didn’t want to... impose?” You murmur. 

His expression remains cryptic. You can’t tell if he’s annoyed or amused or something else. 

“So you didn’t,” he shrugs, his vest bracing on his chest. 

“Sorry, er, sir. But um, there’s my paper, I’ll... let you be. I’m sure you’re busy enough--” 

“Terribly busy,” he confirms dryly. “Since I’ll have a new batch of papers to mark, I’ll be kept well in hand.” 

You clasp your hands together and sway, “right, uh--” 

“And you’ll be off like the rest of those dull girls, paying no mind to the real purpose of study, but rather the wordly pleasures of the modern campus. All that pumpkin spice and such.” He reprimands. 

“Oh, uh, professor...” you know better than to argue. He is set in his ideas of his students and what should make you any different than the rest. 

“Right then,” he reaches for your paper and barely glances at the title page. He flips to the short essay and his eyes skim. He reaches for the antique pen and marks up the page as he goes. He hums as he scratches with the nib. “Good point but clunky prose. No, redudant.” He scribbles his comments in the margins. He turns to the second page and sighs. He closes it and holds it out. “You show comprehension but you need refinement.” 

“Um, thanks, er...” you take it hesitantly and back up again. He watches you with his bold blue eyes, not showing a single crack in his veneer. 

“Go off and enjoy your weekend, don’t fret over the fault of others. Certainly, you show more promise than most who haunt my lectures,” he says. His tone is flat but his words are praising. The contradiction has you off-foot. 

“Thank you, Professor, have a good weekend too.” 

He doesn’t respond as he puts his attention back to another stack of papers. You turn on your heel slowly and scurry to the door. He clears his throat and you stop. 

“Perhaps I mightn’t have such a tedious weekend.” 

You glance back but he still has his head down. You nod and leave him be with a sharp inhale. You hold your breath in until you close the door from the other side. 

Only a few more weeks and you’ll be through this class. Hopefully, you won’t ever have to face the heart palpitations that come with each encounter after that. For now, you will focus on the last paper and the eventual exam. Those are hurdles that look higher the closer you get. 

📕

There’s a cafe off campus you prefer. The library kiosk and the franchised booth in the Student Rec Centre are always overcrowded. This place isn’t so bad. A local mom and pop with a single barista. Maude, the retiree turned businesswoman, works slowly but efficiently. Traffic matches her pace but is enough to keep her thriving. 

“I’ll bring it to you, dearie,” she smiles as she hands you a plate with a crumbly scone on it. You thank her and go to find a seat. 

The place is homey. The seating is mismatched. There are armchairs around a low coffee table, some long tables with thrift store dining chairs, and square table in the corner with two benches and some stools. The rug that stands center to the sitting space is faded but its patterns still visible. 

You claim one of the armchairs near the bookcases and sit. Despite the tense submission, you’re glad not be stressing over another mark. Another A- to add to the rota in Holmes’ class. You could do a lot worse given what you’ve overheard from your classmates. 

The door opens and closes, letting in a chilly. You keep your coat on as you balance the scone on the coffee table. You’ll wait until you have your mocha and savour them together. It’s a rare treat but the dropping temperature coaxed you into it. 

A familiar baritone pricks your ears. You glance over before you can bury your nose in your phone and flinch. What luck. You almost doubt it’s a coincidence. Twice in a row you’ve managed to stumble upon the Professor outside of class. 

Your shoulders sink as you turn back and plant your elbow on the armrest, shielding your face behind your hand. What do you do? Your mind races. Despite what he said in his office he does not radiate welcoming energy. You can’t just flee and leave your order behind; it isn’t fair to Maude and you wouldn’t want to waste the money. 

Professor Holmes’ voice carries. He orders a black coffee and two shortbread biscuits; the Saturday special. The elder barista takes his order and as usual, bids him to sit down so she can bring it to him. You chew your lip as time ticks on. Make up your mind. 

Too late.  

“Pardon, oh,” Holmes approaches and gives pause as you look up at him. “You aren’t reserving these for your friends?” 

He gestures to the other arm chairs. You shake your head and clasp your phone tight in your hands. He dips his chin and sidles around the coffee chair. He removes his jacket and hangs it on the rack between the bookshelves. He lingers there as he browses the titles on the spines. 

Maude appears with your mocha in a large mug on a matching saucer. You thank her as she sets it by your scone. She calls over to Holmes, “I’ll have your coffee and biscuits in just a moment, dearie.” 

He turns his head and nods but says nothing else. She shuffles off and you lean forward to take your mug. Somehow your chocolatey treat doesn’t seem so sweet any more. He backs up and lowers himself across from you. You shyly return his gaze over the brim of your cup. 

“You come here often?” He asks. 

The question has you off-guard as much as his presence. You slurp noisily before you pull the cup away and put it down. You take the napkin by your scone and wipe your lips. 

“Sometimes. Once in a while. Er, I... I make my coffee at home. Tea, more often.” You clamp your lip shut before you can ramble on. 

“Mm, yes, I prefer tea as well. I was suggested the dark roast here by a colleague however.” 

You don’t know what to say. You’re entirely unprepared for the conversation. You’ve never thought much of what he might speak of outside his lectures. His interests, you assume, would align with his expertise. 

“You are enjoying your time? You haven’t any schoolwork?” He asks. 

You slant your lips one way then the other. You look down at the bag by your feet and back at him. He wears a wool sweater with elbow patches; not quite casual but casual for him. 

“I was going to do my readings...” you say. 

“Ah,” he sits back in the chair as Maude brings his coffee and biscuits. He thanks her tersely. 

You bend over and reach for your bag. You slide out your notebook and open it to the printed articles stashed between the pages. You hope it’s enough of an excuse not to talk as much. 

“My class?” He asks. 

“Yes, sir, er, Professor,” you answer. 

“Those are available digitally, as I understand.” 

“I know, but I, er, prefer print.” 

“Mm, yes, it does permeate more effectively, doesn’t it?” He intones. 

You agree with a silent nod and try to focus. You’re too shy to check if he’s watching you but it feels like he is. He sighs and sips from his cup. 

“What were you on the hunt for then?” He asks abruptly before you can read the introduction for the fifth time. You look up, perplexed. “At the craft store?” 

You open your mouth then pause. Finally, you summon the answer, “thread.” 

“Thread?” 

“Yes, I... make little things. Sometimes. It wasn’t urgent. I don’t have my sewing machine in my dorm and... no time.” You shrug and let the papers lay flat on your notebook. 

He considers you as his cheek dimples and he leans his chin on his knuckles. He looks down at the cup he holds over one leg. He sucks his teeth. 

“Rather flat,” he dislodges his elbow and leans forward. “And what did you get? It smells intriguing.” 

“Mocha with peppermint,” you answer. 

“Mm, with whip?” He peeks at your cup and the melting glut of cream. 

“Yes, Professor,” you reply. 

“I think I might trade mine for the same,” he stands with his cup in hand. 

You watch him, confused and uneasy. So much for getting some studying done. You doubt you’ll be able to concentrate with him looming on the other side of the table. 

[hallowpen]

This post is going to be a combination of The Loyal Pin Episodes 5 and 6, as I was unable to post for episode five due to my travel schedule.

Let's start off with the two key highlights from Episode 5...

หมูสร่ง (pronounced 'muu sarong') is a Thai dish made of pork meatballs wrapped in egg noodles that are fried until golden and crispy. For this reason, the dish is literally translated as "Pork wrapped in Golden Threads". It is usually served with a plum dipping sauce.

The Thai name for the series is ปิ่นภักดิ์ ('Pin Phak'). ปิ่น serves as Khun Pin's nickname... but is also Thai for "hairpin". A tradition born from the Lanna Kingdom (อาณาจักรล้านนา), nobles and high-ranking officials would purchase hairpins of gold, silver, or brass to wear as a social status symbol of their wealth. The gift of a hairpin (usually a gift given from a suitor to their potential bride) would symbolize one's promise to care for its intended wearer. Hairpins are associated with the belief that they will help to preserve a couple's love and prevent it from fading over time. They are, therefore, representative of the true and lasting connection between Anil and Pin.

If you managed to survive Episode 6, let's discuss....

การซักผ้าด้วยเครื่องหอม - The process of washing clothes in fragrant water is pretty straightforward. A combination of herbs, spices, and florals are added to boiling water to create a natural detergent. The chosen additives can aid in stain and odor removal, reducing wrinkles, and preserving the color of the garments. The particular ingredients chosen in the series were 1) ลูกซัดคั่ว (roasted fenugreek seeds) - Also known as methi seeds, they smell and taste like maple syrup 2) ชะลูด (dried alyxia) - A climbing flowering plant that has a sweet and light fragrance, described to smell like honey 3) ใบเตย (pandan leaves) - A tropical plant whose soft aroma is described as having hints of rose, almond, and vanilla.

Thai rubies (พลอยสีทับทิม) are extremely rare and highly coveted, as they are far scarcer than diamonds. The rubies are not only admired for their beauty, but are known in Thai culture as one of the nine sacred gemstones. They are believed to hold auspicious meanings, and to bring long-lasting love to their wearer. Owning and wearing jewelry that features this incredibly valued gemstone is seen as a status symbol for royalty. Princess Alisa gifting these jewels to Pin for her birthday means she holds Pin in very high regard (it was hinted in the first episode that Alisa views Pin as a second daughter).

There are a few conversations and quotes from this episode that I would like to highlight.

The first is the conversation between Pin and Princess Patt:

"Can Princess Anil follow in Princess Patt's footsteps and stay unmarried?" "That would be quite unlikely, Lady Pin. [...] Savettavarit is a very famous, wealthy, and well-respectable family. Princess Anil will eventually have to get married. You will also have to get married as well, Lady Pin. I already have some prospects in mind."

There are certain expectations that women of royalty and nobility cannot escape from. The most prominent of which is to be married and have natural born children to preserve the line of succession. It is also important to note that these potential marriage prospects are always chosen by a daughter's parents...with the daughter having little to no say over the decision. Which leads me right into the next scene... when Anil is talking to Prik about having to leave for England sooner than she expected:

"I did not choose to do this, Prik."

Such a short and quick line... that holds so much meaning. Anil is a highly ranked princess yet, even she, must submit to the whims of her elder brother. Women hardly hold a say over their own lives within this society... and that's going to come into play, very obviously, later on in the series...

The last scene I wanted to mention was during Anil's planned dinner, when she and Pin were discussing Pin's birthday:

"What gift do you want from me for your birthday?" "Just wake up early to make merits and give alms to the monks with me, Your Highness."

I'm mentioning this scene for cultural reasons. In Thai culture, the tradition of making merit and giving alms together is tied to the beliefs of shared karma. The practice is said to bring prosperity to couples in their current life, and to ensure they will meet again in future lives. Pin's request is representative of her intentions to walk hand-in-hand with Anil in their present life, and in their future lives to come. I'm not crying... you are!!! 😭😭😭

[enyalius]

we ran from midnight (ii)

ii. the blood

Rhett has a dream. As another familiar face re-enters his life, Perry reminds him of his history. Rowan makes a striking re-introduction into the Abbott brothers' lives.

tags: rhett abbott x transmasc oc. angst. slow burn. estranged childhood friends. yearning, pining, all that kinda stuff. misgendering. transphobic + homophobic language. canon-typical violence. rhett abbott comes to terms with his bisexuality. author's notes: this chapter follows the events of episode one but with my own additions and canon divergence. it's lengthier than i expected, but i had fun writing it!

cross-posted on AO3 | chapter one

The first thing he feels is the warmth of a summer afternoon.

Sunlight dapples through shrubbery and the grass is dry but soft beneath his back, and laughter rolls off his tongue like it’s always been there. His sides ache from it. He blinks up at a sky so blue it almost hurts to look at, bright in a way that makes everything beautifully bleary.

Rowan’s there, shirt grass-stained and jeans streaked with mud on the knees, long hair clinging to her face from the sweat. Her face, the way Rhett remembers it. Like she never left. She’s crouched beside him, pushing at his shoulders and trying to roll him over.

He sees her laugh, sees her mouth move to say something. He doesn’t hear her voice, but he knows what it sounded like before everything—sweet and light, but unruly in her cadence. She never cared that it was ‘unbecoming of a lady’. He didn’t, either.

He grabs her around the waist, grinning like a fool, and yanks her down beside him. They tumble in the dirt, limbs tangled and their laughs overlapping. Blades of dry grass poke at their shins.

Her shirt rides up slightly. He holds her a bit too tightly without meaning to as she sits on his stomach. Fingers press against her skin. He freezes.

The laughter dies out, and Rhett’s pulse is at his throat. It feels wrong, almost perverse, to admit that he likes the feeling of her warm, soft skin under his hands. Her chest rises and falls, close enough to feel. She has that spark in her tawny eyes, like she can read his mind and understand in her core, the thoughts of a boy in adolescence.

His hands stay. Her hands, firm on his chest (a sensation most familiar to him now), keep him pinned down below her. She’s leaning in slowly, and he closes his eyes in anticipation of what’s to come. In this shred of his memory, maybe this is what he would’ve wanted. What he expected, but never got. He doesn’t remember wanting it. He feels like he shouldn’t.

Rowan’s lips are soft. Then Rhett’s lips touch stubble, rough and scratchy. He smells aftershave. Tobacco. The wormwood in whatever cologne he had on that night. And as their lips part to make way for tongue, he can feel him . Taste him . His tongue. His breath as he breathes in for another kiss. The sweat, the spit, hot in his mouth.

His eyes feel like they’re glued shut. He can’t resist the heat pooling in his loins, like a dam inside him is going to break. Rowan pulls him in like he can feel that resistance, his heavy hand threading through Rhett’s hair. He hears that low, husky moan and feels Rowan’s lips move to his neck, kissing further down…

Something smacks the bottom of Rhett’s boot, and the dream is gone in an instant. He jerks upright in his seat. He can feel his pulse all the way to his fingertips, and sweat is cooling fast on his skin. 

Rhett is parked outside the house but he doesn’t even remember getting in the truck. At the very least, he managed to drive himself home without getting another DUI.

In his drunken stupor, Rhett removed his shirt and draped it over his bare chest as a makeshift blanket. His jeans feel tight and uncomfortable, and there’s a hot sensation boiling in his stomach.

“What the hell…”

Outside the car door, the perpetrator of the boot smack, is Royal. He nudges Rhett’s boot again, eyebrows furrowed and his face as stoic as ever. “If you think I’m gonna bail you out of your responsibilities, you got another thing comin’. Get dressed. Checkin’ the fences.”

If his father noticed anything or not, he doesn’t say. He just walks away without waiting for a response.

Rhett wipes a hand over his perspiring face and curses under his breath. He leans his head back, eyes closed, jaw clenched. What the hell was all that? He tries to recall exactly what it was his brain dreamt up, but he’s coming up on a blank. He’s reeling from the sensation and trying to will the tent in his pants down with deep breaths.

He doesn’t get to have a moment of relief from this. Soon he pulls his shirt back over his head, grabs his hat on the dashboard, and climbs out of the cab. He trudges behind his father on the way to the stables to fetch their horses, squinting from the morning sun under his hat.

Even in the haze of his hangover, he does remember having spoken to Rowan Yao last night. Rowan’s a man now, that much he can recall. 

“Did you know Rowan Yao’s back in town?” he rasps out.

Royal glances over his shoulder at him. “No, your mother didn’t mention anything. How is she, Rowan.”

Rhett remains tight-lipped. He resists correcting his father, figuring it isn’t worth having that difficult conversation so early in the morning.

“I, uh… saw hi— her —at the bar last night, after the rodeo,” He feels guilty even if he knows Rowan isn’t here. “She said she’s taking care of her mom while her brother’s on honeymoon?”

“Right. Maybe we can invite her and Holly to dinner this weekend, I’m sure Cece’d love that.” They walk past the stable doors and Royal nods to himself.

Inside the stables, Perry is tightening the cinch on his chestnut quarter horse. “Well, the prodigal son is finally awake. Who’re we inviting to dinner?”

“Rowan Yao,” Royal answers, “Holly Callahan’s kid.”

Perry leans against a stall post, grinning. “Oh, yeah? Didn’t you have a crush on her back then or somethin’, Rhett?”

Rhett is carrying his saddle over to his dark bay when he shoots a glare at his older brother. “What? No.”

“No, you definitely did,” Perry snorts, “But she was always pretty tomboy-ish, wasn’t she? You’d think Mrs. Yao raised two boys.”

“I didn’t have a crush on her.”

“Whatever you say—but point is, you used to be real close to her.”

“Yeah. Used to .” Rhett strains with the effort as he saddles up on his horse and rolls his sore shoulders.

“Alright, you two,” Royal cuts in, voice flat. “Knock it off. We’re still missing two damn cows. We’ll head east, then start from there.”

It’s been a tense day since Rhett woke up, like something shifted in the air and he just can’t seem to say the right things. Maybe he got bucked so hard last night, he knocked his head on top of the strained wrist. That’s gotta be it (or at least, that’s what he’s telling himself).

After a tense conversation with the Tillersons about their west pasture, they return home by noon with two cows still missing and Sheriff Joy telling them that the FBI is giving up on finding Rebecca. Nine months in and no leads pointing anywhere.

Perry is already going through a lot with his wife’s disappearance, and instead of being there for his older brother, Rhett just finds ways to get into Perry’s skin. He just can’t help but think that Rebecca wouldn’t have gone up and left for no good reason—Perry must’ve said something to her. Rhett, of all people, would know how volatile his brother can get when he’s angry.

By nightfall, as an apology, he brings Perry out for some drinks at the bar. There’s more people, now that it’s the weekend. He and Perry have a booth all to themselves, about two beers and one tequila shot deep at this point. Rhett’s starting to stumble over his words.

“What if… what if I just wasted the last ten years chasing this? I mean, you had a wife and kid by my age.”

“It’s a slump. You’ll ride better at the next one. Take some risks and don’t regret ‘em—that’s all I’ll say.”

Perry’s words slide right off. They’re just half-hearted words of comfort like a fortune cookie from a cheap Chinese restaurant. They’re both at their worst. The only comfort they can find is at the bottom of a bottle.

That being said — “I do think we’re gonna regret this tequila, though.”

That, they can agree on. They smile and clink their glasses. The second shot goes down easier than the first.

Maria Olivares walks by, accompanied by three other girls Rhett recognizes as some of her friends from high school. He saw her at the rodeo last night, but his terrible performance didn’t motivate him to catch up with her at the arena.

He keeps his head low so as to not draw any attention, but he can’t stop looking at her, and Perry follows his gaze. She looks just as gorgeous and unattainable as she did back then. She’s got no man with her, maybe she’s finally single again.

“What’s Maria doin’ here?” Perry asks.

“I don’t know.”

Perry nods his head slowly. He looks like he’s thought of something funny.

“...What?”

Perry chuckles. “First it’s Rowan, now Maria. The girls of your past are comin’ to haunt you, Rhett.”

Rhett rolls his eyes and shakes his head, but he knows Perry’s right. It’s like God is showing him all his regrets in womanly form. And one of them isn’t even a woman anymore.

“Man, you’ve been in love with that girl since you were sixteen years old. For the life of me, I can’t figure out why you two never got together.”

“Yeah? Well, I can.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“She had a boyfriend. Went to college. I stayed here.”

“And Rowan?” Perry raises an eyebrow, “You stopped hanging out with her after seventh grade. Avoided her, actually.”

That God-awful ache in Rhett’s chest is flaring up again.

“We just… grew up. Grew out of each other. I got sick of playing tag and wrestling and watching movies and all that stuff. Then he— she went off to Chicago.”

None of it convinces Perry. Rhett doesn’t expect him to understand, anyway. Perry had Amy with Rebecca while Rhett was still figuring himself out at fifteen.

“How many excuses are you gonna make before you man up—”

“No, listen to me. Listen—”

“—and go dance with her?” Perry tilts his chin towards Maria, standing by the bar, sipping a beer and laughing with a friend. Rhett gives him a weak, resigned smile.

“Get up!” Perry urges, “C’mon, you bull-ridin’ son-of-a-bitch. Get that ass up, go get that girl!”

Rhett needs some liquid courage for that. He grabs his bottle, gulps down what’s left, and though his legs feel shaky, he stands from their booth. He smooths a hand through his hair and walks toward the bar.

But just as he nears, Rowan Yao appears out of nowhere (he seems to be really fucking good at that) and slides in beside her like they’d known each other for years. Maria smiles and laughs at something Rowan says, and he whisks her away like it was the easiest thing in the world.

It takes Rhett about five years to work up the courage to ask Maria out. For Rowan, a complete stranger? About five seconds.

He stands there, stunned. His eyes follow them as Rowan gives her a seat by the table. He’s definitely got her charmed by the way she’s all smiles and engaging with him in a conversation. Rhett starts to feel sick as he walks back to the booth, and Perry’s laughing at his expense. His brother probably doesn’t even realize who that was. He’s not going to bother explaining.

There’s a swampy, sour feeling in his gut that the beer can’t wash down. It festers as he watches them talk—Rowan’s hand gesturing, Maria laughing. They’re laughing so damn much , actually, what the hell could Rowan be saying that’s so funny?

There’s certainly worse men that Maria could be talking to—like the Tillersons, seated in their own booths and with their own women—but Rowan ? Does she even know who he used to be?

What gives Rowan the right to come back to Wabang with a brand new identity and charm the people Rhett can’t even bring himself to talk to?

Maybe it’s his Chicago-made city boy charm. Talking to people has always been so easy to Rowan, he’s the more outgoing one between him and Rhett. When they were kids, she spoke to Rhett first, always invited him to hang out after class. On weekends she’d knock on their front door sweating and panting like she rushed all the way there after lunch, asking, “Is Rhett home? Can he come play?”

She was always looking for him, at church, at school. Does Rowan even know he’s here at the bar too? Why didn’t Rowan come up and talk to him instead? Rhett strains his brain to remember last night. Fuck . He must’ve said something last night. He feels like he’s fucked up again.

Jesus. He’s getting way too worked up over this shit. Knowing his childhood friend and high school crush are talking to each other doesn’t sit well with him at all. He’s supposed to be having fun with Perry.

Rhett makes an effort to brighten his look so his brother doesn’t make fun of him even more.

(It’s jealousy. But as with most difficult emotions, Rhett’s not going to call it that.)

After nearly a decade of falling off of bulls, maybe he’s finally gone and lost his damn mind.

A few more beers and two rounds of darts with Perry later, it’s all water under the bridge (which means, hastily buried until it dredges back up again for later). They’ve moved to the bar counter, and Rhett finds himself in a passionate discussion about the Tillersons and the land dispute. He thinks it’s bullshit, but if it’s straight from the county assessor, it’s gotta mean something. 

They’ve had this coming eventually. Their homegrown family-owned ranch could never compare to the Big Ag guys and their peace-disrupting quad bikes and luxury log cabin estate.

“Well, that’s—that’s what I’m saying,” Rhett mumbles, “We can’t compete with those commercial guys. All this old-school stuff Dad keeps—”

“Look, look. The family and the land are always gonna be more important to him than the money. The guy only knows one way.”

“Yeah,” Rhett scoffs, “And that way is gonna cost him his whole ranch. If we’d sold ten years ago…”

His brother laughs and shakes his head. Rhett takes that as a sign to leave it be, because Perry probably thinks he’s being ‘naive’ and ‘idealistic’. He can talk about it all he wants, but there’s no changing their stubborn old father’s mind.

“Hey.”

“Mhm.”

“Promise me something.”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t give up on that rodeo stuff.”

He probably won’t. It’s all Rhett’s ever known, it might as well be all he’ll ever be.

“Alright. No, I’ll tell you what, I’ll keep riding bulls if you think about moving on.”

“Moving on?” Perry chuckles, “Moving on from what?”

Rhett nudges him. “Perry, c’mon. From Rebecca.”

Rhett watches the life drain from Perry’s eyes and God damn it, he’s done it again. 

“Shit. Y’know, I’m sorry. I’m drunk,” he rushes out and grimaces, “That was just… that was a stupid thing for me to say.”

Perry shrugs, but there’s tears welling in his eyes already. “...I think I’m at the end of my rope.”

He dips his head low and sobs silently, shoulders quivering. The instant regret and guilt clears up the alcohol-induced haze in Rhett’s head.

“No, listen to me. You’re gonna be okay. Alright? Amy, too. Trust me.” Rhett tries to say something of comfort, but he knows it can’t quell the darkness already brewing within his brother. He just hopes they can forget this conversation ever happened in the morning.

Perry stands to leave and he stumbles. Rhett catches him, steadies him with a hand on the shoulder. “Woah, woah. Y’alright? You need to go outside?”

His brother breathes in sharp through the nose and Rhett pats him on the back. “Alright, go puke. Then come back inside and we’ll… finish our beers.”

His eyes follow Perry, making sure he doesn’t fall on his ass on the way out. Sometimes it feels like he’s the one that has to take care of his brother. 

Rhett resorts to reading the label of his beer bottle because he’s sick of sitting with his own thoughts. He peels and picks at it like he tends to do when bored.

“Two beers, please.”

He turns to see Maria next to him, ordering from the bartender. They make eye contact as she tosses a few bills on the counter.

“You got screwed.”

Rhett blinks. “Sorry?”

“Whoever put you on that bull screwed you over, you’re better than that. Unless you got a lot worse over the last five years.”

“I was surprised to see you there,” he smiles, “What happened to school? I thought you were gonna be a vet, or something.”

“I burned out. That, and…” she shrugs, “I missed home.”

“You missed this place?” He can’t fathom ever missing and returning to a place that’s got barely anything in it. She found a way out, he thought she’d stick by that.

“Well, yeah. I mean… among other things.”

Rhett chuckles softly and his heart is fluttering with nostalgia. He feels like he’s seventeen again and joking around with her by the lockers in between classes.

“So, what about you? You finally got off that ranch?” she asks, grabbing the beers from the bartender.

“Uh, no. No, actually.”

She seems surprised to hear it. “You told me the first thing you were gonna do was escape.”

Rhett just hisses between his teeth and shakes his head. He could name a hundred different reasons to leave, and a hundred different reasons to stay. And staying has always weighed heavier in his scales.

“Well,” she clinks a bottle against his, “At least we can see each other around again.”

He nods toward Rowan at the other side of the bar, sitting alone at the table facing away from them. He pretends not to know him. “Is that for your guy?”

“Rowan?” she smiles, “He’s cute. But no, he’s not my guy.”

Rhett instantly feels some strange relief wash over him.

“Hey, do you want to, um… do you wanna…” he trails off. Through the front door window, he can see Perry and Trevor Tillerson outside having some kind of disagreement. When Trevor shoves Perry back, Rhett immediately goes on high alert.

“Oh, shit. One second.”

He pushes himself off and bursts through the door. “Hey, hey!”

“Fuck you, man!” Trevor yells in response to something Perry said.

Rhett plants himself between them and shoves Trevor back as he tries to reach for his brother. “You touch him again, I’ll put you in the fuckin’ ground!”

“Oh, is that right?” Trevor gets all up in his face, lip curled with the classic arrogance of a Tillerson. “Well, if you fight the same as you ride bulls, I’m pretty sure I’ll come out on top.”

Rhett scoffs and turns away, squeezing his fist. For a split second, he thinks about walking away. Just turning around and dragging Perry inside, letting this go. Being the bigger man.

But this here is Trevor Tillerson—he’s not letting this opportunity go to waste.

He lands a jab that hits Trevor right on the jaw, sharp enough to send him to the ground. There’s a dull pain that sears through Rhett’s bad wrist, but he shrugs it off. The bastard’s back up in a heartbeat and they’re grappling each other like dogs in a fighting pit, dust kicking up beneath their boots.

Trevor’s knee hits Rhett right at home, and the wind is knocked from his lungs.

The front door swings open, and Maria comes out with Rowan right behind her. Rowan slides in between them to break up the fight, placing a hand on Rhett’s chest and pushing him back towards Perry.

“Hey, what the fuck is going on?”

Trevor’s focus turns to Rowan with an immediate recognition, and he guffaws. “Holy shit. This fuckin’ dyke’s back in town?”

Something changes in Rowan’s face. His whole body tightens, jaw flexing, tawny eyes going dark. His expression turns into something wounded and cold.

Rhett knows that look, he’s seen it before on his father when Wayne Tillerson taunts him. On Perry, when the authorities first suspected him after Rebecca’s disappearance. Rhett never thought Rowan would be capable of that kind of rage—he can tell Rowan’s thinking about being the bigger man, too.

None of them can say they’re any better.

Rowan lunges after Trevor before anyone can stop him, slamming the asshole down. They hit the gravel hard, and the sound of Rhett yelling after Rowan is swallowed up by the crunch of the impact and the scuffle that follows.

“Rowan—shit!”

Trevor claws at his shirt and gets a good few punches to the side of Rowan’s head and face. There’s a sickening crack but Rowan gets up like nothing ever happened. Rowan kicks the back of Trevor’s knee and hooks him thrice even as his fists bruise from the contact on bone.

It takes both Rhett and Perry to drag Rowan off. His chest is heaving as they drag him a few feet away, arms pinned, blood trickling from a broken nose that he wears with a smirk. His eyes are still honed in on Trevor down on the ground, curled into himself like a wounded dog.

Rhett doesn’t have time to think. He cups Rowan’s face in his hands and brushes a thumb under his eyelid to check his pupils. He curses under his breath when he sees how blown out they are.

Maria hovers over them, pale. “Oh my God, is he gonna be okay?”

“Head back inside,” he points toward the door, then turns to Perry. “Watch him, alright? I’ll go get the truck.”

Maria heads inside with Rhett as told. Perry holds the bruised Rowan up and cranes his neck to get a better view of the man, now that it’s just them left behind.

“...You’re Rowan Yao?”

“Yeah,” Rowan tilts his head to meet Perry’s gaze and gives him a woozy, lopsided and split-lip grin. The blood from his nose is now dripping down his chin. “Nice to see you again, Perry.”

This is a bizarre way to learn that Rowan Yao is a man now. But he’s definitely gained Perry’s respect.

From a few feet away, Trevor is pushing himself up. He looks just as bad, if not worse than Rowan.

“Son of a bitch,” he groans, “Y’know, I felt for y’all, about my dad going after your land. But now, I don’t give a shit. We’ll take everything you got. Your whole world will fucking disappear, pal. Just like your goddamn wife.”

Rowan lunges again, but is held back by Perry. Trevor flinches ever so slightly. “Eat shit, Tillerson!”

Perry takes the jab about Rebecca with a grimace and swallows his own rage. His concern for the kid outweighs whatever he was crying about a few minutes ago.

“And you,” Trevor spits a wad of blood and phlegm inches from Rowan’s boot, “You can cut your hair and chop your tits off, but you ain’t a real man with no balls. Just a bitch in a button-up.”

“I’ll fuckin’ show you a real man.”

Rowan surges forward again, and this time it’s with vindication. Perry underestimates just how strong Rowan is and the boy slips out of his grasp easily, fist flying toward Trevor before he can stop it. At this point, Perry lets it happen, because a sick part of him wants to see Trevor get his shit kicked in.

He watches Rowan drive his knee to Trevor’s nuts and huffs in amusement as the bastard keels over grabbing his crotch. Rowan straddles Trevor to land a few more hits. By the fourth punch, Perry snaps back to reality.

“Okay, that’s enough.”

Rowan doesn’t intend to stop, even as Trevor holds his arms in front of his face to block the punches. They’re both exhausted of stamina, and Rowan’s punches get weaker. Rhett’s truck screeches to a stop in front, his headlights illuminating the dust settling around them. He slams his horn to get them both to quit it.

“That’s enough, Rowan!” Perry hauls the boy off the now-unconscious Trevor. Rowan spits his own wad of blood back, and Perry shoves him in the backseat of the truck and slams the door shut.

They had to make sure Trevor was still alive and breathing before Rhett drove away from the scene. Getting charged with murder, on top of the land issue, won’t serve them any good. Knowing Trevor and his fragile ego, maybe he won’t say a single word to the authorities after getting his ass kicked by a ‘girl’.

Rowan lets out a soft, broken laugh from the backseat. His nose is all crooked and swollen. “Bastard had it coming.”

Perry, seated at the passenger seat, leans in towards Rhett. “You didn’t tell me Rowan’s…” he whispers, nodding toward the bruised man behind them.

“I didn’t think it was important to mention,” Rhett shrugs. But really, he’s saving himself from having to explain something he doesn’t completely understand either.

“You didn’t think she becoming a he was important?”

“There’s more pressing matters here, Perry.”

He glances at Rowan through the rearview mirror, and for a moment he sees past all the bravado and the wince that follows the laugh. His eyes soften with concern. “You good back there, Ro?”

“ Ro ?” Rowan perks up and leans forward, grinning through the blood in his teeth. “You haven’t called me that in years.”

Rhett swallows hard and looks away. The nickname slipped out like an old habit. “I–I mean, it’s your name .”

From out the window, Rowan notices they just drove past the street he lives in. “Hey, wait, you just missed…”

“You’re concussed, kid,” Perry says, “We’re taking you to the hospital.”

His eyes widen and he immediately thinks of his mom at home, hopefully sound asleep thanks to her medication. “ What? That’s two hours away! Take me back—I’m fine!”

“Look at yourself, man! You’re bleeding all over.” It’s clear in Rhett’s tone that he’s not taking no for an answer on this.

Rowan touches his nose and suddenly his whole face is sore. He feels a wetness under his nostrils and he’s made aware of the strong, metallic taste on his tongue. He starts chuckling to himself again, his panic set aside and forgotten. He’s definitely out of it.

The sound makes Rhett’s heart throb in a way that makes him uneasy, then he remembers all at once — “What if we tussled, right now? For old times’ sake.”

Fuck. Now is not the time for this.

“You always act like you’re afraid of me.”

Rhett white-knuckles the steering wheel. He can tell Perry’s watching him carefully from the side.

“God, but that felt good ,” Rowan lets out a sigh and leans his head back on the headrest, then groans. “But what was that thing Trevor mentioned… ‘bout the land? They’re taking your land?”

“They’re takin’ the west pasture.” Perry responds.

Rowan leans in, eyebrows furrowed. “What? That’s fucking crazy. You guys owned that land for years! Why’re they choosing now to… oh, fuck .”

He starts to double over. Rhett looks back and forth at Rowan and the road with panic settling in his gut. “What? What?!”

“I’m gonna—f-fuck…” Rowan dry heaves. Perry looks just about ready to jump out of the truck.

“No! No—Perry, Perry! The fuckin’ glove box!”

Rhett reaches back and pushes Rowan away from the console, but that just means he’s going to throw up behind the driver’s seat. Perry frantically opens the glove compartment and searches through, feeling for anything in the dark that can hold vomit. He feels the crinkle of a gas station plastic bag shoved in there, and just as he turns to hand it to Rowan, it’s too late. He’s already thrown up half his guts all over the floor.

“Motherfucker…” Rhett hisses and rubs a hand on his face, his nose flaring from the stench of bile stinking up his truck.

“Sorry…” Rowan groans in between gags, and thankfully he lets the rest out in the plastic bag.

Rhett sighs. “Just… breathe slowly. And roll the windows down.”

Perry turns to look at his younger brother, and laughs so loud his gut aches. He hasn’t laughed like that in a long while. He claps a hand on Rhett’s shoulder, jostling him a bit. “God, look at us. Like no time’s even passed.”

This time, there’s nothing Rhett can do against the laugh escaping his lips.

[satureja13]

This is the last post on this simblr/tumblr for a while. The Boys and their mentors entered the Therapy Game 2.0 (= inZOI) I got my hands on the Creator Studio where I can already enter Build Mode and the Character Creator! The new tumblr/ZOIblr where I will post about their future adventures is -> here

Since the corrupted Therapy Game save file made them forget everything, we will start with a whole new story line!

If you won't follow us there: Thank you so much for participating!

tumblr is my safe place. And it's you who make this possible. Thank you also for your patiece. For kindly answering my weird questions and polls. I'm autistic and I'm having a very hard time acting properly and I often failed and made people mad.

And If you'll ever miss the Boys, check their -> pinned post hub with all the links to the 30 chapters with hundreds of episodes ö.ö (You can also find lots of additional facts about the Boys and their friends there. Also our other stories.)

This story alone contains 1716 posts! Not all of them full episodes though. 'Underwater Love' started end of July 2022! And went on and on for 2 Years and eight months! Unbelievable! Some of you might know I deal with ADHD and this is a huge achievement for me. And I'm still so obsessed with them ^^'

I leave this simblr with 376.310 given likes (in ~ 12 years though ^^') I don't know how many I've received for my 3886 posts, but I'm thankful for each and every one of them <3

So, I won't log in here as soon as I start inZOI. (Since it's a completely other blog and I won't log back and forth ö.ö) Which will probably be sooner than expected! I'm trying to get my hands on one of the keys that drop from 20th March on. And if I'm lucky, I can enter Create a ZOI again and build mode! (Edit: as mentioned above, I was lucky!) I'm over and over baffled again how well my timing was! I think it turned out quite well with the story and we can leave the Boys with a good feeling. There was a time when I feared they'd get sucked ingame against their will and that would have left me with a heavy heart. So them all entering of their own free will was a relief for me and I can move on. And I still have the possibility to come back anytime (= the manage to get out of the Therapy Game) Not only the Boys needed a break. I'm so utterly fed up with the Sims 4 but it was impossible for me to leave without the Boys. So I hope inZOI and maybe also Paralives will keep us busy for a while until I calmed down again ^^' I say 'hiatus' but it's also possible that I will never touch the Sims 4 again. I can't tell right now. But maybe I'll miss the goats and log in anyway hahaha

We still had a lot of fun :3

'When I first saw you, I was deep in clear blue water The sun was shining, calling me to come and see you I touched your soft skin and you jumped in with your eyes closed And a smile upon your face Você vem, você vai, você vem e cai E vem aqui pra cá porque eu quero te beijar na sua boca Que coisa louca Vem aqui pra cá porque eu quero te beijar na sua boca Ai que boca gostosa

After the rain comes sun After the sun comes rain again After the rain comes sun And after the sun comes rain again'

Smoke City - Underwater Love

From the Beginning 🔱 Underwater Love 🔱 Latest

Current Chapter 'Goats in Space': starts ▶️ here Last Chapter: 'Piglets in Space' from the beginning ▶️ here

📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 23-29

[fir3ylolol]

i had an idea…i’ve been thinking A Lot about that one johnny cage skin with the red shirt where he has the forearm tattoos…. maybe they’re those long lasting temporary ones and he has them on for a movie? and reader is realllllly into them

place beyond the pines

pairing: Johnny Cage x Reader

summary: your boyfriend comes home, with a couple of new additions 0.0

tw: vaginal penetration, fingering, afab reader, gn reader, slightly dirty talk, groping, established relationship, sloppy makeout, smut, shameless smut

a/n: im alive! ive beaten a cold, finally. glad to write again! it's almost break for me, so i'm gna try to stay consistent. and if not…don't be mad at me pls. ALSO check out my works in progress post linked in my pinned to see what's to come ;P

word count: 1.15 k

Ao3

The front door shuts firmly, and you perk up at the sound. That sound means only one thing: your boyfriend is home. He’s not usually home at this hour, so you’re really excited to see him more after a long, lazy day in sweatpants and baggy t-shirts. But as you rush out to see him, you’re stopped by the sight in front of you. There, standing by the doorway, is Johnny, in a tight red compression shirt with the sleeves pushed up. On his exposed forearms, you see black and white American Traditional tattoos, interlaced with a snake twisting its way up his arm. You’re caught off-guard, frozen across the room from him as he puts his keys down on the entry table.

He turns to face you, with a wide but tired smile. But he notices your still state and his face drops slightly in confusion. He walks over, shaking your shoulders lightly. “Love? You ok there?” You snap out of it, shaking your head as you do. “Yeah, sorry, I just…what are those?” You shakily reach your arms out to trace down the patterns. He lifts them to meet your hands, smile returning, “Don’t you think they’re cool? They’re just temporary, but it’s for that movie I was just cast in. You know, ex-cons tend to have tattoos so,” he gestures with his head. You start to fluster further, feeling the warmth of his skin under the intricate patterns and artwork. Finally, the gears start turning in his head and he laughs lightly. “You like them, don’t you?” Your head bolts up, embarrassed that you were so blatantly called out. You shake your head rapidly, stepping back slightly. “No, I just think the art is cool!” He steps forward, smirking at how flustered you are, lightly grabbing your wrist.

“Really? Because it feels like you think it's hot, and it’s flustering you,” his other hand coming up to cup your face tenderly. You try to turn it into a joke, pushing past his touch to walk towards the kitchen. “Come on, stop playing. You must be hungry, ri-” You’re abruptly cut off as that familiar pair of arms wrap around your waist and hold you in place. You’re about to protest until you hear a gravely quiet voice in your ear, “You’re a shit liar, you know.” Suddenly, your feet no longer touch the ground, being carried towards the couch with little to no say. You would fight it but…you don’t really want to. Your eyes are locked on the sight of them, art straining against the veins that pop out of his skin as he constricts around you. You feel him slowly sit down, grip on you still tight as you end up on his lap. You expect him to ease up, but when has Johnny ever gone easy? You notice his hold on you loosening, but his hands start to travel. One traces its way up your chest, reaching your head and gently holding your jaw. The other slips towards your waistband, fingers moving teasingly slow. He leans his head forward, warm breath against your ear as he whispers, “I had a pretty long day…wanna help me relax, baby?” Overwhelmed slightly by him, you nod against his hold on your face.

You watch as his inked hand slides lower, not as teasing anymore. But he loves to put on a show, and he shuffles your sweatpants off slightly. His voice, slightly louder this time, rasps out, “Gotta make sure you can see the whole show.” Helping direct your head down, you watch as his fingers circle against your clit. You jolt at the feeling, but his grip on you tightens slightly, keeping your back pressed into his strong chest. You’re slightly dizzy, watching as he sinks one finger inside you, hand tensing at the feeling. You can feel a heavy sigh from him, as he continues to curl in and out of you. His thumb reaches up, returning to sit comfortably against your clit again. As he moves, speed increasing bit by bit, you can’t help to whine out. The sight of his detailed art disappearing inside you, the feeling of his rough thumb moving so softly. As he slides another finger in, a gentle moan slipping out, he lifts your head again. He tilts it back, resting it against his shoulder. You watch with half-lidded eyes as he brushes your face off, his face barely visible from your angle. But he never stops, steady pace as you squirm at the sensation. But his free hand shows up again, clinging to your chest. It’s as if he’s holding himself back from moving at a ruthless pace, but he can only hold so much back. You can hear murmurs echoing through his throat against your right ear, incoherent, but very much through gritted teeth.

Suddenly, he’s speeding up more, his hand on your chest loosening slightly. At the angle of your head, you can’t muffle yourself, louder and louder moans as his hand starts to grab and massage your chest. You can hear him clearer now, voice carrying better, “God, look at you. You look so good like this, spread out just for me. You feel so good, baby, shit.” You can feel him growing sloppier, and more impatient than before. But you’re not far from cumming, your hands desperately searching for purchase. One latches to his thigh under you, and the other on his wrist, moving as he pumps his fingers inside you. You help guide him slightly, shuddering as he touches the exact right spot. You’re nearly seeing stars, but you lift your head, letting it flop forward. His entire arm is moving at this point, both flexing at the effort he’s exerting. As you manage to gasp out that you’re close, the hand on your chest lets go and shoots back to your jaw. He turns your head, angling in back and to the side, as his lips collide with yours. His kisses are as sloppy as his moves, desperate for more of you than there is. Your grip tightens and you feel him groan into your mouth at the feeling. That does it, a harsh flinch as you cum around his fingers. Both of you are moaning at this point, unable to break the kiss. You’re not sure which voice is yours anymore as it echoes through your head. But as he removes his fingers, you break the kiss, taking a deep breath as you rest your head against his shoulder again. You hear as he brings the drenched fingers to his mouth, wanting to get every last bit of you as possible. But it only lasts so long, as he removes them with a quiet, “Ew, these things taste bad.” After a pause, he scrambles to clarify himself, “Not you! The tattoos! They taste bad, not you.”

[looneytooneybastard]

Follow up to my Palasakiweek post: it’s the alive boys:D

POV me while drawing this: “wow this sure is going great!” gets to the hands

Immediately starts fucking screaming

No but I swear to God, if you even so much as fucking look at the hands, I will come for you, and boil your fucking eyeballs when you least expect it.

Ok now to actually get to the point, instead of whatever the fuck that was:

I’ll start with a few short details, I didn’t include in the original, and then I’ll go onto the design, cool? Cool.

This first, one was probably pretty easy to guess, but I completely forgot to mention it in the original, so I’ll say it anyway, just to make sure we’re all one the same page: Charles will obviously not be able to see the girls in the beginning, not until he goes through his “canon death” , which Edwin and the girls obviously save him from. But this time instead of classmates, they’re other boys from the home (who do get arrested and kicked out this time:D)

On the subject of Charles, I think he’d have a very similar character arc to Niko with the letters from her mom, just with a very different context, obviously.

Now onto Edwin, I never really thought about why he could see ghosts, but I’m thinking maybe he’s from a long line of witches or something? Since that would both preserve his magical skill from canon, but also explain his interest in the occult.

Lastly, I really just wanted to talk about how funny I find the whole memory thing in its current state, because I just imagine Sa’al yoinking Eds memories, and then immediately fucking the hell off (being banished by Crystal)

Design:

Edwin: I started with the simple vision of a sweater –I don’t know why, but every time I draw that boy I have the uncontrollable urge to put him in knitwear, and this time that urge won out– then I went onto shoes, and I knew I wanted to do something different this time, so I thought about it, and came to the conclusion that ballet flats would be perfect both because they fit well with his whole vibe, but more then that I feel like a modern Edwin would definitely take the opportunity to express his femininity more. And with that thought in mind I obviously had to give him some earrings. And then I added the little lace detail onto his collar, because…ok I don’t know, it was cute, sue me!

Charles: most of Charles’ outfit is already pretty timeless, so really I just tried to differentiate his outfit enough from the original, without losing the core of it. Also I gave him a messenger bag, for no other reason then I really like messenger bags. In addition to that I gave him my shoes, because they kind of reminded me of one of his pins, and they’re hella cute ‘nough said.