#its okay i think i got it in the end...

[solplease]

SPOILERS FOR DAY 4 OF 14DWY!!

i was actually losing my mind when i played day 4 lmao, so.... redraw time!!

i hope i drew it well enough haha

[suntails]

love will truly live

[hinamie]

in spite of everything, I had fun <3

[atalana]

so the good place is widely lauded on this site for its takes on morality and capitalism, which i totally agree with

but i think it should get more recognition for the line "all humans are aware of death. so we're all a little bit sad all the time. that's just the deal. we don't get offered any better ones. and if you try and ignore your sadness, it just ends up leaking out of you anyway. i've been there, and everybody's been there. so don't fight it. in the words of a very wise bed bath and beyond employee i once knew - go ahead and cry all you want. but you're gonna have to pay for that toilet plunger."

[try-set-me-on-fire]

birds all sing as if they knew

[dizzybizz]

mostly jrwi riptide but also @bardace's oc forts is here

[kekeandherrpgs]

Unexpected reunion

[iridescentmirrorsgenshin]

no thoughts just comparing the deliberate parallels between the concerned comments layla, faruzan and paimon make to kaveh which are used to contextualise alhaitham’s comments to kaveh during a parade of providence

In the desert, layla who previously had issues with dealing with anxieties, received dubious advice from kaveh about equating worries to that of a sickness for that which is no cure, therefore you have to let its run its course

Layla reveals that this advice isn’t suitable for her, since the cause for her anxiety was solely because she didn’t have a clear goal for herself. She states that therefore, if this advice is something kaveh adheres to, then this is ultimately worse for him, as kaveh claims to have a set goal - as in, he wants to win the interdarshan chanpionship.

She notes that kaveh seems conflicted, and that this could stem from some inner sadness which he suppresses with a façade of happiness.

This points to kaveh’s internal conflict being between that of his guilt complex brought about by his perceived involvement in his father’s passing, and his genuine desire to help others at the cost of himself. Kaveh cannot balance the two in ways that will allow him to prioritise his own needs and desires

Kaveh’s internal conflict is pointed out later on in the same quest by Faruzan, who highlights kaveh’s title as a genius being incongruous with his problem solving abilities after kaveh passes out in the desert due to giving his food and water to the disturbed foxes and going out of his way to lead them to safety, putting himself at risk and jeopardising his place in the competition

However, Kaveh states that his title of a genius has nothing to do with this situation, and although he admits it wasn’t the most practical solution, it was dually his conscience that ultimately caused him to act and perceivably the guilt that would come from not attempting to help

After the second round comes to a close and faruzan inadvertently informs alhaitham of kaveh’s “tribulations”, the player gets to hear alhaitham’s reactions to kaveh’s decision through kaveh, as kaveh and alhaitham have discussed the events in the desert offscreen

Paimon points out that this is definitely ‘something’ alhaitham would say due to the blunt manner of speaking and the dryness of his words - this contextualises how kaveh receives them, as personal goading

When looking past this and focussing on alhaitham’s actual words, the real meaning can be found, and it is even a point in this scene that paimon offers the exact same comments, drawing direct parallels between her and alhaitham’s words, and therefore establishing the same concerns

Alhaitham points out kaveh’s unreliable problem solving abilities being incongruous with his title as a senior - directly paralleling faruzan’s comments in which she highlighted how kaveh’s decision making abilities were at odds with his title as a genius

As well as this, alhaitham alludes to kaveh’s guilt complex being the reason why he exerts himself for others at his own expense - which is a point that the traveller and paimon directly follow up on

Kaveh responds to their questioning amicably despite the sensitive nature of the conversation, just as he did when faruzan pointed out kaveh’s problematical decision making, and this is because of their apparent concern rather than actively seeking offence, with paimon protesting when kaveh asks: “don’t tell me you think i have serious personality flaws, too?” With the ‘too’ clearly referencing alhaitham and the conversation the two had prior to the traveller and paimon turning up

Kaveh can understand the concern in others’ words when they question his problem solving skills and the sense of his inner conflict stemming from guilt, however, when alhaitham makes the same comments, kaveh sees this as a form on animosity and personal critique

Because of alhaitham’s manner of communication and kaveh’s apparent distrust of alhaitham, the two cannot reach a mutual understanding - despite alhaitham expressing the same concerns as three separate characters within this quest

It is telling then that when kaveh gleans an otherwise unseen meaning in alhaitham’s words is when alhaitham changes his method of communication and directly, and intimately, addresses kaveh by using a script that only the two are privy to

Kaveh still doesn’t wholly understand alhaitham’s meaning, but the switch up in communication method is enough for kaveh to question alhaitham’s sincerity and not attribute it to alhaitham mocking him

Kaveh continues questioning the cause for this throughout the remainder of the event, being seen to question why alhaitham left the notes for him and whether if it was a coincidence or not. He concludes that it wasn’t a coincidence and then states “then…”, inferably questioning why alhaitham left the notes for him and what the meaning of his words were, in a script only kaveh would understand. Additionally, kaveh mentions wanting to ask alhaitham what the meaning of his notes were when at dinner after the closing of the interdarshan championship, as the uncertain meaning of his words has seemingly left a profound effect on him

Alhaitham changing his manner of communication, which kaveh usually perceives as negative, causes kaveh to question alhaitham’s sincerity, and therefore causes doubt in whether alhaitham is patronising him or not. This in turn can cast obscurity over kaveh’s assertion that alhaitham holds “disdain” for him due to Alhaitham’s expression of concern which kaveh cannot perceive due to the abrasiveness of his words. Alhaitham conveying his concern in a roundabout way only allows for kaveh to misinterpret him, which kaveh perceives as “disdain”.

A parade of providence establishes the cause for the rift in alhaitham and kaveh’s relationship mainly to be perpetual misunderstanding in communication, and sets out to propose a solution being that a change of communication.

By using a language that only the two of them know shows that for kaveh to fully understand his meaning, alhaitham must meet kaveh on his own terms when it comes to communication - the two must be on equal and frank level. this could allow a potential rebuilding of intimacy the two once shared when initially learning the language, and thus overcome the idea of “mutual disdain” which kaveh asserts due to his fundamental misunderstanding of alhaitham which alhaitham seems to reinforce with his typical language

(Update: For more analyses like this, the essay this is taken from is now uploaded! It can be accessed here and here as as a pdf <3)

[msmoiraine]

also the thing i find so funny about amazon prime of all streaming services to cite expense as the reason for cancelling their well-performing and well-received show is that they dont need the fucking money. the only thing under amazon's portfolio that actually turns profits is aws, even their online shopping platform doesn't make them the big bucks and they can afford to undercut all their competition to monopolize literally everything. netflix needs their shows to do insanely well every release bc they need new subscriptions to keep going but amazon literally doesn't have that problem. declining viewship defined as not making the Nielsen list or whatever the fuck its called every week is hilarious. season 3 was better than and more positively received than either season 1 or 2 but we didn't hear anything about season 4 while previously the next season was announced well ahead of the current season even airing, makes me believe that the execs really didn't plan on season 4 anyway and only waited until the season 3 hype died down to cancel the show. honeslty these might have been those conversations rafe was talking about when they killed siuan. rafe got to kill a major character like he was talking about and sophie didnt have to stay on a show with a doubtful future and we got "some closure in the finale". or whatever.

[screechingfromthevoid]

One of my favorite things to do when writing fic about actual plays is, if I get stuck, or just don't care about the detail, I'll have the character roll for it because I have dice and their stats.

DORIAN STORM GOT A NAT 20 ON HIS DECEPTION/PERFORMANCE CHECK AND IDK MAN GIVE ORYM A CHANCE.

[scionshtola]

a bit of sugar

pairing: Corisande Ymir/Y'shtola Rhul word count: 1.5k | rated: G | read on ao3 summary: A date with Corisande at the county fair has Y'shtola reconsidering what she really wants out of their time together. notes: another fic in the rodeo au verse, where Y'shtola is a geologist come to survey the land of the ranch that Cori works on. written for Wolshtola Week Day 4 - Date Night! [divider credit]

Just inside the entrance to the county fair, Y'shtola waited for Corisande in the shade of a large tree. A cool breeze blew gently through the fairgrounds, fluttering her skirt about her knees. The grounds were bigger than she had expected, and far more crowded, too, so used had she grown to the small town establishments she now frequented.

A steady stream of people bustled through the entrance, many of whom beelined for the same line Corisande now stood in. They were at the front of the queue now, and as tall as they were, Y'shtola could just see them from here—their pink tipped ears, the burgundy curls that streamed down their back, head and shoulders above most of the others in line. A tiny flutter started somewhere in her stomach, a feeling that, to her continual chagrin, she could no longer describe as unfamiliar.

She tried not to think anything of it. It was only a trip to the fair, after all—a date, Corisande had called it, when they had asked if she wanted to come. Seeing as she already spent most of her time—personal and professional—with Corisande, it didn't seem anything to get worked up about. But even that logic did not stop the warmth that spread through her chest as they approached, smiling brightly as they brandished neon pink wristbands in one hand.

"Unlimited rides," Corisande said, and reached for Y'shtola's hand. They wrapped the band carefully around her wrist, their fingers brushing warmly against her skin as they smoothed the adhesive into place, and the fluttering in Y'shtola's stomach started up again with the thrill of their touch. She felt vaguely ridiculous, like a schoolgirl with a silly crush rather than a grown woman who had, more than once, done far more than brush fingers with Corisande.

Corisande handed over the remaining wristband. "It almost matches your hair," Y'shtola teased, tugging on a pink curl that fell in front of Corisande's shoulder, warming when she laughed. When Y'shtola was done settling the wristband into place, Corisande twisted her wrist and laced her fingers easily with Y'shtola's. There was so much affection in her gaze that it took some effort for Y'shtola to turn away and study the fairgrounds beyond her. "Where do we start?"

"I recommend saving the food for after the Tilt-a-Whirl. But—" Corisande gestured at a nearby booth. Several teens sat on stools, shooting water into the open mouths of laughing clowns, bright balloons inflating above their heads. "—If you would like a giant stuffed bear to carry around all night, we can start with the games."

"You're certainly confident," Y'shtola teased, laughing when Corisande replied, with a shrug, "I have good aim."

Quite the understatement, considering Y'shtola had seen their performance at the rodeo, where they had hit their target with the loop of their rope with ease each time. She leaned into Corisande and said, "Tilt-a-Whirl it is, then. But I expect to eat far too much fried food before the night is over, and to bring home at least one unreasonably sized plush animal."

"Don't worry," Corisande replied, leaning down to kiss her. They squeezed her hand as they started guiding them both toward the rides. "I'd never let you leave the fair without at least one fried Oreo for the ride home."

The afternoon passed by in a whirlwind as Corisande tugged her between rides, starting with the Tilt-a-Whirl, as promised, before moving on to others—the Cliffhanger and the Downdraft and the Skyscreamer, side by side, bumping shoulders while they soared through the air. Corisande's cheers carried through the air as they spun and fell, and Y'shtola, heart racing and stomach dropping as the Mega Drop carried them fast toward the ground, lifted her voice to match, laughing and yelling alongside her.

Y'shtola found herself a little amazed—and perhaps a little enamored, when she let herself give in to the sentiment—by the way Corisande was so free with their affection in public. They held her hand as they walked between rides, fingers laced; they shifted their arm around her shoulders when they stood in line, pressed her to their side, dipped down to kiss her seemingly whenever they had the urge. It was easy for Y'shtola to press back into their touch, to lean into the long line of their body, to rise on her toes to meet their kiss. Y'shtola marveled at every touch, delighted in each kiss Corisande pressed to the back of her hand, at how intuitively it came to her to kiss the curve of their shoulder in return.

They found a table as the sun set, orange sky giving way to the faded blue of dusk, two bottles of Coke and a large basket of fries between them. Y'shtola smoothed her dress under her thighs before she sat in the plastic chair, and Corisande tangled their long legs, bare below the hem of their denim skirt, with hers beneath the table. Every so often their fingers brushed as they reached for the basket of fries at the same time, and Y'shtola's cheeks would warm at the sweet curve of Corisande's smile across the table.

They moved on to other attractions after, bumper cars and the carousel, laughing at themselves in the mirrors of The Funhouse and kissing in the dark corners where they were sure no one was behind them. A surprising amount of carnival games involved aiming—tossing basketballs into a basket and rings onto a bottle, knocking over pins with a softball—and by the time they made it to the booth Corisande had first pointed out, with the water guns and the laughing clowns, they had already accumulated a myriad of plush animals: a small monkey that now swung from Y'shtola's purse, velcro hands clasped around the strap; a fanged cat with wings and a cape; and a large stuffed paissa wearing a white chef's hat.

"Please," Y'shtola said plaintively, when Corisande proved herself exceptionally good with the water gun. "We can't carry around any more of these creatures."

Corisande studied the wall of prizes, humming with consideration. After a moment, she lifted something delicately from the wall, and turned back to Y'shtola. In the palm of her hand laid a bracelet made of large white beads, the size and shape of plastic pearls. A small, heart-shaped charm dangled from between the beads.

"May I?" Corisande asked, gesturing to Y'shtola's arm. Y'shtola obliged, heart skipping as Corisande lifted her arm, cradling her wrist gently as she slipped the bracelet over her hand. Beneath the flashing lights of the games, the white beads were almost pearlescent. It was silly, only a plastic piece of children's costume jewelry, but when Y'shtola looked up into Corisande's fond gaze, she felt the way she had on the Mega Drop, her stomach dropping and her heart racing with the thrill of the fall.

"It matches your hair," Corisande teased, taking the ends of Y'shtola's hair between her fingers just as Y'shtola had done to her earlier, and Y'shtola rose to kiss her.

Their lips were warm and inviting against hers, sweet from the powdered sugar of the funnel cake they'd shared. She kissed her and kissed her, fingers curling in the belt loops of Corisande's skirt, until the teenager who ran the booth clapped his hands and said, briskly, "Okay! Who's up next?"

"There's one more thing I want to do," Corisande said, when they pulled apart, laughing, noses bumping. Y'shtola swept her thumb across Corisande's cheek and was rewarded with a warm smile before Corisande straightened. She slung her arm over Y'shtola's shoulder as they walked, and Y'shtola, still warm with affection, leaned into her and slipped her hand into the back pocket of Corisande's skirt.

The line for the Ferris Wheel was short when they reached it, and it wasn't long before Corisande was helping Y'shtola into the carriage. It was fully evening now, and as they rose above the fairgrounds, night stretched dark across the countryside in all directions. But even with the lights blazing below them, the stars were bright and beautifully visible above them. It reminded her of that first evening she had spent with Corisande, dancing beneath the stars outside her motel room, music floating out of the windows of Corisande's pickup truck. And that second evening, too, kissing for the first time under the night sky, wrapped up warmly in each other's arms.

Is this how it would always be, here with Corisande? The two of them, side by side under a brilliant night sky. Hands in each other's pockets, leaning into touches, kissing sugar off each other's lips. Sharing silly gifts and fries and dances and warm, sweet smiles. Is that what she wanted—until the job was complete, of course, however many weeks or months that might be—so long as it was Corisande next to her?

Y'shtola looked at Corisande, who had her head tilted back as she gazed up at the stars. A small smile played at the corners of Corisande's heart-shaped mouth, growing when she turned to face Y'shtola and saw her already looking back. Y'shtola's heart raced as their gazes met, as if they were soaring through the air on one of the roller coasters rather than spinning slowly on the Ferris Wheel. When Y'shtola leaned in to kiss them, they met her mouth sweetly, and the last of her uncertainty was brushed away with gentle fingers on the back of her neck, twining into the ends of her hair.

[acaciapines]

thinking about dess again GRAH one day i'll figure out how to write this god damned dess&asriel fic but for now im thinking about. dess as the tragedy of hometown. she left, she died, she's not here anymore. she did the one thing nobody else could. she GOT OUT. and oh how that ruined the lives of everyone she knew.

anyone else having dess thoughts this fine night PLEASE SHARE YOUR DESS THOUGHTS WITH ME......

[meamiki]

vtuber loop !!!

[reverse entry au? the reverse isekai part of it? tangentially related to this post here, and also the last part of this post too]

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

Books of 2025: GHOST OF THE NEON GOD by T. R. Napper.

This caught my eye while browsing idly at the bookstore, but I was Strong and told myself, "no, don't impulse buy that; check reviews and if it's still here next time you're physically in the shop you can MAYBE get it."

Well! The reviews were Intriguing, and the oversaturated bright cover was calling to me, and it was indeed still on the shelf when I went back in for indie bookstore day, so! I yoinked it posthaste, put it in the daisychain lineup, and read it in a day (novella, 112 pages).

It is, delightfully, a weird and funny and fucked up little book. Near future cyberpunk thriller set in Australia, featuring petty criminal Jack Nguyen who trips (literally) into Very Advanced Tech and finds himself on the run from hired killers and dirty cops and a government or two, trapped on a lethal road trip through the outback with a university student he scammed a ride from.

The Very Advanced Tech turns out to be exactly my catnip, and also a HUGE spoiler, but your honor I love Oondiri, and Sally, and Jack, and horrible Quinlan, and poor philosophizing Col. Very violent, but it also had me inflicting dialogue exchanges on my mother (who happened to be sitting nearby) and giggling to myself intermittently--all around a fun horrible time. Four stars!

If you have a favorite fictional AI, you should definitely check this out.

[mcytegg]

huh. i just remembered the rough estimate subz gave us for the 10k wardens thing is very rapidly approaching. do we think derap even has Time to do his thing w pangi before that happens or...

[good-beanswrites]

what if es snapped? they should be allowed to be a little insane towards the audience and/or the prisoners.

(im thinking like: either obsessively checking to see if the prisoners are dead to an unhealthy extent, ignoring what the prisoners say (thinking of them like voices), and/or just randomly passing out and denying it) (OR: do whatever !! :D)

Ah yes, our perfectly healthy and normal warden! Aasfsd this was so interesting to write, there’s so much going on for them this trial… I really loved all these ideas (I’m a little insane over them mistaking the prisoners for the voices omg 👀) but I went with the good ole panic attack and passing out 😎👍

“Warden-san, are you, um! Are you feeling alright?”

“I’m fine.”

“R-really? You look a little pale, like –”

“I’m fine, Haruka!” They snapped at the empty room.

Es really was fine. Grief manifests differently in different people, after all. Some people cry, some people get angry, and some people have little lapses in memory like this if they don’t get enough sleep the night before. Hallucinations probably happened to everyone. Es tugged at their shirt collar, trying to get a breath of coolness after the incident. They were fine.

Muu’s absence from her cell irked them in its inconvenience, but mostly just confused them. The majority of Milgram’s occupants preferred to stick to their own privacy these days, themselves included. They left the room, thinking how ironic it was that Muu would leave her hiding spot the exact moment they wanted to ask her about the prisoners’ deaths.

They peered in the neighboring room to ask Fuuta if he knew her whereabouts, and maybe some of their original questions about the incidents. Conversations between them remained as tense as with the others, but at least he’d give them the straightest answer of the group. 

They froze, met with only dark space through the bars. Then they let out a short sigh. Yet another lapse in memory – of course he was with Amane.

Back past Muu’s cell, their quickened steps took them around the panopticon. As hard as they tried to keep their eyes fixed ahead, they couldn’t help but glance into the stillness of cell number five. Cell six was just as desolate. Their pulse raced when the next room’s occupant was missing as well. They pulled at their uniform again – they’d have to confront Jackalope about turning up the temperature in here.

The clicking of their boots grew louder as they rushed the next few paces to Amane’s cell. Es’ breath caught in their throat – it was empty.

“Amane? Fuuta? Muu?”

They tried to remember the original trip out of their room. Had they seen any of the prisoners? Their head spun. It was mere minutes ago, but they were having trouble remembering. 

Why did they come here in the first place? They had a question. A question about death. Images of swinging fists and desperate tears rose up in their mind. They saw crazed eyes and bloodied hands. Were those others’ hands, or their own? Their voice raised.

“Is anybody there? You answer your Warden when they speak to you!”

Es grabbed onto the next set of bars with a rattle. Then the next, then looping around the panopticon entrance to the first few cells. Nobody.

Lightheadedness washed over them. Everyone was gone. Were they also…?

“Answer me!”

They lost all pretenses of their authority, taking off at full speed and throwing open the creaking doors at each stop. They started calling names as loud as they could muster through a squeezing throat. 

Every single prisoner under their care had disappeared. This was their fault. Tears prickled their eyes. They didn’t mean for any of this to happen.

The echoing concrete bounced their desperate cries back at them. It hardly sounded like their own voice. What did they sound like, again? There were always too many voices…

Heat pressed in on their ears, muffling all sound around them. It crawled to their throat, making it impossible to breathe. Their hand clutched at their chest. The floor teetered under them.

Whatever had happened to the others, it was happening to them, too.

They tried to make it to the next cell – they’d lost count of whose they were approaching – but their legs gave out before they could. Their cape knotted around their arms as they tried to catch themselves from sprawling on the ground. Darkness swam at the edge of their vision. A pounding around them sounded like footsteps or their own heartbeat or something breaking. They wheezed in air.

Their lips mouthed, help, but no sound came out.

Then the world disappeared around them.

---

“What happened?” Muu poked her head around the tight gathering. Everyone had run ahead at the commotion, but her new uniform meant she always arrived last. “Are they okay?”

“They will be.”

Slipping into the group, she found Kazui carefully gathering up the heap of cape of limbs that was their Warden.

“They’re burning up,” he muttered. “I’m going to bring them to their room, they need some rest.”

“I heard them calling for Muu.” They were calling out for the others, too, but everyone’s expressions told that they didn’t need her reminder.

“A fever and an outburst like that… I think all the stress is catching up to them.” Kazui unfastened their cape, placing it aside as he hoisted Es up. Their hat tumbled back to the ground, rolling to Muu’s feet.

She stooped to grab it. She picked up the cape through her sleeves as well. “Why didn’t they just come talk to us?”

“I’m not sure. We eat at the same time every day, and that breakfast bell is difficult to miss.”

Mikoto frowned. “They’ve been pulling some all-nighters in their room. They must have lost track of the time. I’ve been there myself – it’s crazy the things you can miss when you’re like that…”

The room fell into silence, everyone guiltily watching Es' frail frame shrink into Kazui’s arms. Muu spent so much time fearing them this trial – between their fury upon hearing about the deaths, and the intimidating silence they fell into once the news sank in – she sometimes forgot just how small they really were. 

She didn’t know why she followed Kazui to Es’ quarters, or lingered so long after dropping off their cape and hat. Her uniform prevented her from helping as he laid them on the bed, but she still watched as he settled them onto the perfectly made sheets. She wondered the last time they’d actually slept there.

Kazui checked their temperature again, giving Muu the opportunity to stare a moment too long at their sleeping face – pale and clammy, devoid of all strength but little bursts, which appeared just long enough to spasm in pain, altogether exactly as Rei had looked – before she turned away with a jerk.

“They’ll be okay,” she pretended to reassure Kazui. “They will be…”