thinksthatit-sbesttonotlookback

[thinksthatit-sbesttonotlookback]

i respect writers who don’t name their minor side characters. i, however, will absolutely give the market vendor a name, a family, and a deeply emotional reason why they sell apples instead of pears.

[thinksthatit-sbesttonotlookback]

“just start writing” they say, as if i don’t first need to reread my worldbuilding notes, tweak the map i made three years ago, and research medieval shoe-making techniques for a scene that won’t even make it into the book.

[thinksthatit-sbesttonotlookback]

[thinksthatit-sbesttonotlookback]

Final Log

I’m dictating this as my final entry of my journal. I have a lot to say, but not enough time to capture all of my thoughts, feelings, and emotions from the last two weeks. I will cut to the chase, and start at the beginning of this nightmare.

The Company offered a new contract to the interns, with a major twist. Instead of the usual three day quota we were given one for twelve days, and the crew could be more than the usual four, however it had to consist of “all-stars”; or at least that’s the phrasing one of my future teammates used. The Company wanted to test longer expeditions and chose to use the best of the best to test it out. I can vividly recall meeting my team in a sterile-white room owned by the Company. There I met my teammates. Interns #034, #69943, #101, #393, #939, #1245, #202, #102, #005, Additional Asset #2, and…

To hell with this, if our employers aren’t going to respect their sacrifices, then I won’t discuss them in an unattached way. Besides, we never respected the numbering system anyway. I knew them by their name, age, and what they did or how they acted.

Adam - 25 - Relaxed under pressure Ozzie - 18 - Studious medic Mike - 19 - Bug enthusiast Jessica - 29 - Animal Hater Patricia - 6 - Stowaway Derrick - 52 - Stone-faced Captain Sally - 78 - Veteran Survivor Frida - 31 - Florist Norman - 29 - Seismologist Reggie - 22 - Skittish Dayani - 32 - Headstrong Calico - 28 - Paranoid Haley - 34 - Bubbly Hugo - 21 - Playful Griffin - 22 - Defensive Engineer Killdane - 24 - Vigilant Polly - 27 - Clueless

I met them all in the office where our employer Jeb, who never physically appeared, rather spoke to us through the intercom in the wall, laid out in short, curt terms of what our goal was and the new tweaks to allow it. Afterwards we boarded our deluxe spacecraft, designed to fit all of us, food, extra storages for scrap and more. It was here we found our little stowaway Patricia, or Patty as we called her, who was Miss Sally’s granddaughter. We couldn’t drop her off due to the ship’s autopilot, so she stayed with us for the trip. God I wish she hadn’t.

Our first landing was one of the moons in the Experimentation cluster, and we faced no problem other than a few hisses of steam. We celebrated an easy trip and let our guards down, cracking jokes, partaking of some snacks. The real shit began when we landed on one of the moons in the Vow Cluster. Jessica, Frida, Calico, and Mike went out for the excursion. Along their way to the facility they had ran across a Baboon Hawk and the occasional Circuit Bee nest, complaining about it as they went inside, with Calico whimpering that they didn’t think this was going to be as easy this time around. I would have thought that this was going to be a fairly easy trip like the prior moon, but Calico’s screaming through the walkie-talkies proved otherwise. She had been devoured by a Thumper, the crunching of her bones in its jaws echoed through the small handheld device of ours; Miss Sally cupped Patty’s ears to prevent her from hearing it. Then things became worse as the remaining three were separated as they escaped. The Baboon Hawk from earlier had not forgotten about Jessica nor her complaints about her (or was she the one doing the complaining? She hated animals so I assumed so, either it doesn’t matter) because a pack swarmed her and pecked her to death. And on the topic of swarm, I had the misfortune to witness Mike get stung to death by the Circuit Bees. He tried to walk right by them but he was too encumbered, and we all had to hear him cry out in pain as he was shocked and stung to death; a shame for a young man whose family’s past involved beekeeping, it would’ve been an ironic laugh had he not perished. Frida came running past him, narrowly avoiding the bees. Tears were painted on her face, while fear was etched into her features. A loud booming thud was echoing across the ground, shaking the ship with each one. A Forest Keeper, or Guardian as they were often referred to as back at base. Frida tripped and fell prone, using her remaining strength to throw her lighter scrap into the ship’s loading bay before she was grabbed by the curious giant and bitten in half. Her screams still reverberated in my ears as her waist and legs crumpled to the ground. The keeper began to walk off and was tagged in by the bloodied horde of Baboon Hawks. The Circuit Bees I believe injected a kind of venom in Mike, as his skin began to bubble and he began to rise up again. Sally shut the door and Derrick started the ship and we flew off.

In a single moon we had lost four of our team, a near fifth of our numbers swallowed up in mere moments. Haley asked that we prepare a small memorial for them, but Derrick scorned her, chewing her out for being distracted from our main mission of the quota. We were falling behind and charged for their deaths. We silently resolved to do better at our next moon, which was in the Assurance cluster. Ozzie, Reggie, Griffin, and Adam went out to the dusty planet. Only two of them came back.

According to Ozzie, everything was fine until halfway through, where Bunker SPiders emerged and gave them chase. Griffin was getting into an argument with some Hoarding Bugs at the time, and the presence of the spiders initiated an aggression spike, so Griffin went down attempting to reclaim some of his stolen scrap. Adam and Reggie were defending Ozzie as he quickly moved some scrap outside the front entrance. Adam got injured but Reggie was overwhelmed, injected with some venom and rolled up. Ozzie says he would’ve gone back but that the webbing was pulsing, and he didn’t like the idea of what had become of Reggie. We had some casualties but some profit. Derrick wouldn’t let us recover Griffin’s body, and instead took off as soon as Adam and Ozzie stepped foot onto the ship. Speaking of the two, they seemed to kindle some type of romantic attraction, as they were staring deep into each other’s eyes as Ozzie tended to Adam’s wounds. Perhaps if we all survived they would have married…

Augh. My wounds are flaring up, so I will lump the next few moons into one. After we spent a “day” off moons for Adam, we then visited a moon from the Dine cluster and then one from Titan. I was a part of both scrap retrieval teams on those moons, adventuring with the likes of Sally, Dayani, Hugo, Haley, Ozzie, Adam, and myself (for both trips). On Dine we all had to hear Haley’s panic as she got cornered by a NutCracker, and hear the gunfire and subsequent splat as her chest was forcibly shot open by a shotgun. Dayani lost autonomy of her body as she was taken over by a Snare Flea. I still don’t know why some of them were being….transformed, i suppose, into new creatures or hybrids, but it doesn’t matter. No amount of intellectual curiosity will shake me from my sadness, for we still lost Dayani. As we were leaving the sound of metal halted Sally and I. She… she told me to go on without her. To make sure that Patty could survive this whole ordeal. We argued but eventually I complied and left the facility. I can only imagine that she slowly closed her eyes as the Coil Head removed her head from her body, and replaced it with that accursed spring. Explaining what happened to Patty was tough, and Derrick’s cold cynicism was NOT helping.

Hugo, Adam, Ozzie, and myself were at the Titan moon when our bad luck streak worsened. Ozzie and I stayed together and managed to deliver some scrap back to the ship a few times, and we had initially thought our luck had finally turned, but we could hear in our comms the accursed wind-up sound, and realized that Hugo wasn’t with us at the entrance. We began a small search for him, but the sudden stoppage of music made us fold, and we had to leave him behind. Outside we saw Patricia,playing around the railing. She jumped in happiness to see us, only for the railing to give way. I dove for her hand, but missed her by a few seconds. After that is a blur, but I do remember searching for her body as best as I could, screaming for her name before Derrick forcibly moved me into the ship and started it up. I had failed Sally. I had let a little girl perish. Ozzie tried to console me. It didn’t help but I lied and told him it did.

March had myself, Ozzie, and Adam exploring. When we entered the facility we split up to cover more ground and Adam was accosted by the Hygrodere. At this point I had grown to accept that this was a doomed mission. According to Ozzie, the slime reacted abnormally and created a tendril-like appendage and snipped Adam’s oxygen tube and began to enter it, filling him up. I pressed Ozzie for more details but his flushed face did paint a picture, especially based on our conversations nights prior about more personal matters. We tried to continue exploring, but Ozzie ran off, only mentioning in his comms, “I see him!”. Ozzie had confided in me that he was only an intern at the Company to recover his father, who went missing years prior. I was on the ship when Ozzie’s voice rang through our comms, “I found him! I found my lost dad! I’m bringing him back to the ship!”. Derrick grumbled but didn’t take off, and I watched with Norman to see Ozzie return. To my horror, he was walking back to the ship with the Bracken! The same creature that hated prolonged eye contact and snapped necks, yet here he was, hand held by Ozzie, who was leading him with a smile to the ship. I had heard rumors of there being the original Bracken who couldn;t disintegrate when killed, I wondered if this is who it was. After all it seemed to be way more in control then prior Brackens. But Derrick wasn’t thinking this, as he pulled the lever and started the ship. We tried to reverse it but couldn’t. Forever in my brain will be Ozzie’s shrinking face: Despair, hurt, hopelessness, anger, and fear.

A fight broke out as Norman clocked Derrick for abandoning Ozzie. It actually got intense, but we put that aside to do a run on an Offense moon. Killdane, Polly, and Norman did the run into the facility. Polly ran into a Spore Lizard and spooked it. Like normal, a cloud of pinkish spores covered her goggles and her coughing could be heard throughout the comms. I could hear the beep of the landmine, but she didn’t. She survived the blast, but not the turret she stumbled into. Killdane was taken down by a fake, one of the Masked. He fought it valiantly, but I was able to hear the blood being spat onto him as a new mask formed. As Norman left I could feel the rumblings of one of those fucking worms. Norman made a comment that he wished he could study the seismic activity here, and unfortunately his wish came true, as a Earth Leviathan erupted from the ground and swallowed him whole. I remember screaming his name from the ship’s balcony before I heard the growls from behind. I ran back inside and ducked into a corner. Derrick snapped at me for being a wuss before the Eyeless Dog that heard me snatched Derrick up and tore him in thirds. The dog walked to the entrance of the ship and laid down, forcing me to act carefully. I slowly reached for the control panel and initiated take off, pulling the stick back so that gravity would send the beast out. It worked, but the flailing dog swiped one of our fuel boosters and shit went down.

I survived the crash, which I believe now to be more of our curse. I have to laugh, how could I ever think we’d all be able to survive? We’d just be put down later on by the Company anyway. Now I dictate this from an unknown moon’s facility. I’m wounded from a turret and honestly losing hope. I have just enough energy to finish this, and then I will take a very, long, nap. To anyone who finds this, know that we did not die in vain. Our deaths and disappearances should change, bare minimum, how the Company runs things. Please remember us, please save yourselves, please find what we couldn’t. I have no time to explain our side goals, or go into the sanity pills debacle, but please use what I have left behind to survive. Please?

Now, this old man must take a nap. A spore lizard is sniffing me, and I think it either wants to share this sleep or nibble on me. This is the final log of Sigurd, signing out.

[thinksthatit-sbesttonotlookback]

[thinksthatit-sbesttonotlookback]

FanFiction.net is not gone.

Right now it's a victim of DNS (Domain Name Service) spoofing. This means that a malicious party is trying to steal traffic from FFn by purchasing a very similar domain.

So if you want to read fanfiction and not see leaves, you have have to type out "www.fanfiction.net".

Please share so people stop panicking.

[thinksthatit-sbesttonotlookback]

Circus inspired bathroom.

Mindy Leah’s daily aesthetics FB page

[thinksthatit-sbesttonotlookback]

Love how tumblr has its own folk stories. Yeah the God of Arepo we’ve all heard the story and we all still cry about it. Yeah that one about the woman locked up for centuries finally getting free. That one about the witch who would marry anyone who could get her house key from her cat and it’s revealed she IS the cat after the narrator befriends the cat.

[thinksthatit-sbesttonotlookback]

PSA to Real Person Fiction (RPF) Writers

Had trouble pasting the video here, but @ao3commentoftheday posted this video about this announcement from Channel 4.

You can view Channel 4’s Twitter post regarding their new show at the link below, but I recommend you to read the full article announcing Channel 4’s fan fiction puppet series.

Here is a quote from the article:

Channel 4 has commissioned a new comedy entertainment series from RDF seeing celebrities reading steamy fan fiction acted out by a cast of lookalike puppets.

In each episode of The Really Really Rude Puppet Show (w/t), Mel Giedroyc invites a different celebrity to read an erotic piece of creative writing where the celeb is the lead protagonist. Each character in the story is brought to life by a band of puppets voiced entirely by the celebrity and Mel.

According to @ao3commentoftheday, Channel 4 representatives are also already commenting on AO3 works asking writers to write RPFs for their show. AO3 is currently deleting the comments as spam.

What’s happening now is an issue in more ways than one. Beyond writers being exploited for their free content, their EROTIC fiction will be read out by their intended celebrity through puppets with the effect of making fun of the written content (nevermind the fact that it’s making fun of women and queer sexual expression) and potentially making these celebrities feel very uncomfortable.

It’s already mentioned in @ao3commentoftheday’s video, but TO ALL RPF WRITERS AND ESPECIALLY TO BRITISH RPF WRITERS—HIDE YOUR RPF WORKS, both current and future works.

On AO3, you have the option to private individual works so that they are only viewable to registered AO3 users (for those who are not AO3 users, your AO3 mutuals can send you an invitation). Tumblr also has settings to hide your blog from external search engines such as Google and only make it viewable to Tumblr registered users. I’m not sure what features are available on Wattpad or FFN in terms of hiding fan fic works, but if anyone uses those sites, please be sure to hide your RPF works from public view if possible.

As a fan fiction community, it’s especially vital now that we continue to prevent our works from being exploited and ridiculed.

Please jump in if there is anything I am missing—or something that I am saying that may unintentionally be misinformation.

[thinksthatit-sbesttonotlookback]

just wanted to make a general donations post for native americans 

NARF (native american rights fund)

AISES (advancing indigenous people in stem)

NIWRC (national indigenous women’s resource center)

PWNA (partnership with native americans)

COPE (community outreach and patient empowerment)

the association on american indian affairs

first nations development institute

american indian college fund

CARE (diné citizens against ruining our environment)

hopa mountain

indigenous values initiative

native american disability law center

people’s partner for community development 

and here’s a map of what indigenous land you are living on if you want to donate specific towards those people and tribes 💗

[thinksthatit-sbesttonotlookback]

some of you may've heard about that fancy "bionic reading" typefont thats supposed to be easier for neurodivergent people to read (if you're unfamiliar, it bolds the first few letters of each word to make it easier to follow)

well guess what, its locked behind a $500 a month API to write in because fuck you!

introducing, Not Bionic Reading! it is literally just the bionic reading typefont but for free. god bless neocities

anyone who can, pls reblog!

[thinksthatit-sbesttonotlookback]

A random assortment of archaic/disused English words that should still be used:

brust (bristled or bristly)

coolth (coolness. We still have 'warmth' so why did this one disappear????)

ambiloquent (using ambiguous language)

downsteepy (steeply descending)

mazeful (confusing)

evulgate (to send out among the people, to publish or distribute)

toploftical (haughty)

hazardry (risk-taking)

dizzard (a fool, jester, or stupid person)

againster (someone who is habitually opposed to things or 'against' things)

loselry (behavior characteristic of a losel, which is similar to a 'loser,' except the connotation encompasses "profligate" or "scoundrel")

plaguey

malengine (evil intent, fraud, deceit)

beasten (of or pertaining to beasts)

wranglesome (contentious and prone to quarreling)

dwine (to waste away)

[thinksthatit-sbesttonotlookback]

Chapter 0: The Escape

Storms were frequent in the area. As the seasons transitioned from the late spring into early summer, the culmination of water vapor brought about what arid people enjoy and city folk loathe: storms. The storm on this evening was like the ones before it, violent and loud. The thunder boomed with an authority that was matched only by the twisted curves of its partner in crime by the name of lightning. With every boom of a thunder clap the sky lit up from pitch black to a bright light, all framed with the consistent downpour. For some this would be a time of peak inspiration, others a time for fear thanks to childhood phobias. But for a single person this night, it was the chance to flee.

            A young woman exited the place of her residence, a red jacket being pulled against her to shield off as much cold and rain as possible. She took one last look into the place she had called home before closing her door as a thunderous boom echoed in the sky. She looked out and could make out the lights of the town below – her end goal if fate was in her favor. With a flash of lightning signifying another boom soon, she took off. She ran down the driveway, pushing through the main gate she left ajar before dinner that evening. She knew she should have slowed down a bit as she began the descent of the hill, but she had this nagging feeling that if she slowed down for a single second then her plan would be utterly ruined.

            Out of her peripheral she could see the second house rapidly growing larger as she neared it. This made her happy, as this meant that she was getting closer and closer to the property line and thus the road. Her happiness was quickly extinguished as she heard another boom, but this one did not sound the same. It sounded like it was coming from the ground, and at this realization she panicked. She booked it off the main road and into the trees lining up the road. If she was able to avoid that sound, maybe she could make it!

            A sharp pain shot through her leg. She spared a quick glance at it and with the light of lightning found red coming out of her leg and immediately getting washed away from the rain. A Quick glance back confirmed the attack was from a low branch from a younger tree. Despite the pain she knew she couldn’t dawdle. Another pain, this time her arm. Once again, a tree, but this time part of her sleeve tore. This pain caused her to stumble a bit, resulting in her sleeve’s hole to snag on another branch. Thinking she had been caught she thrashed violently, desperately trying to shake off whoever had her. Realizing that the only thing she could hear was the thunder in the sky, the rain pelting the leaves and jacket and her breathing did she take a chance to calm down. The land rumble again echoed. She hurriedly shucked off her jacket, leaving it hanging where it was stuck.

            The rumble was getting louder, and now she could physically feel it. But she was so close! She had long passed the second house and could make out the road to town just ahead. A smile broke out on her face, and she cheered in joy, something she had genuinely not felt in years. She broke out of the tree line only to hear the rumbling noise over the rain. It was getting louder and louder, and she turned to finally face it to see a large object rolling towards her. It hit something and soared above her, the flash of lightning confirming it as a tree. With her smile dropped for fear, she tried to turn and run but only managed to accomplish the former as the tree landed on her, and she could feel the bones along her spine and ribs snap under the pressure. She let out a scream that was dwarfed by a thunderclap, and her cries of pain were drowned out by the heavy rain. She saw a car driving by and reaching out a hand, hoping that they would see, only for a loud “Dumb drunk!” hurled at her as the vehicle drove on. With her only chance of freedom dashed out, her energy depleted, the young woman let her arm drop as her breathing ceased.

            If she was still alive, she would’ve heard the footsteps of several people behind her or have seen their shadows illuminated by lightning. The figures moved around the young woman’s body, assessing the damage, and double-checking if she was still with them. A sigh left the oldest figure there.

            “A shame. She was almost there.” The figure checking for a pulse stood up and spoke. “I guess this is the answer to our question: Escape is not possible.” With an exchange of glances and one last look at the body, the group trudged back the way they came. The young woman was left behind for the night, blood pooling in her mouth, the final punctuation of her death, just a few feet from the freedom she desired so much.

[thinksthatit-sbesttonotlookback]

PSA: Just a friendly reminder that whenever you start a creative project, you will invariably hit a phase where the Thing™️ appears horrendous and you start asking existential questions. But if you keep working, it invariably passes and starts to resemble something less like the devil’s vomit. Doesn’t matter if it’s art, writing, or what–this happens repeatedly. Carry on.

[thinksthatit-sbesttonotlookback]

Man It feels like it's been forever since I wrote out something long for fun!

[thinksthatit-sbesttonotlookback]

One of my favourite tropes is "character who you wouldn't think is good with kids is actually great with kids"

[thinksthatit-sbesttonotlookback]

Pink Victorian Houses