#(I DIDNT write the Scripts)

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

hey remember that caramel-carmel Fake Script i was writing? yeah it's technically not done but i'm tired of tinkering with it so here it is! we'll just say it's a uhhhh uncovered partial script or somethin

this is not in any way official! it's a 100% unaffiliated fanwork & i am Just Fucking Around for Funsies

~

BARNABY: oh, I love carmul!

FRANK: [long, disgusted pause] …what? 

BARNABY: Carmul! You know, those tasty little treats you’re holdin’!

FRANK: You mean caramel?

BARNABY: That’s what I said.

FRANK: [scoffs] No, you didn’t. You said carmul.

BARNABY: We’re sayin’ the same thing here.

FRANK: We absolutely are not!

JULIE: [giggles] You really aren’t.

BARNABY: Carmul, caramel, tomato, tomahto! What does it matter!

FRANK: [flustered, stammering] It - it matters! Julie, you agree with me, don’t you?

JULIE: Well… I don’t know, Frank! I think both are fun!

FRANK: You’re both wrong, then! Wally, you agree with me, don’t you?

WALLY: [hesitant] …I say carmul.

FRANK: No! Not you too! How could you poison him like this, Barnaby?

BARNABY: Don’t look at me! I’m innocent, honest!

FRANK: Ha! So you admit that carmul is the wrong pronunciation!

BARNABY: [groans] ah, geez… throw a dog a bone!

FRANK: I’d be delighted to if you’d just-

[distant yelp as Eddie trips off-screen] 

FRANK: Eddie! Thank goodness, finally someone who can put an end to this debate!

EDDIE: [nervous laugh] Oh no, what did I stumble into this time? 

BARNABY: Hold on a tic, Frank. Hey Ed, take this. What do you call that tasty treat?

EDDIE: [with a tinge of fear] A… caramel?

FRANK: [triumphant] a-HA!

SALLY: [approaching] Did someone mention carmul?

FRANK: AGH!

BARNABY: [delighted] Perfect timing, Sally!

SALLY: What, for a delicious morsel? Hand it over, thank you!

FRANK: You’re all wrong, and I’ll prove it! We’re going to go around the neighborhood and - wait. [under his breath] One two three four - [returns to normal volume] we’re taking this to Poppy’s!

BARNABY: Then Home, then Howdy, yeah yeah - might as well ask the daisies, too.

JULIE: Oooh, and the butterflies! 

SALLY: While we’re at it, we should phone everyone in the book, just to get the widest audience input.

FRANK: [unamused] You all think you’re so funny. 

EDDIE: Well, you gotta admit it’s… it’s… 

[brief, tense pause. Eddie clears his throat]

EDDIE: It’s perfectly sensible!

[Frank makes an affronted noise]

FRANK: Poppy will see sense.

-

POPPY: I’d be delighted to have a cah-mehl, but I’m afraid it-

FRANK: [aghast, truly astonished] You’re joking. You have to be joking. CAH-MEHL? Does no one in this town have sense?! Besides Eddie, of course. And Julie - on a technicality.

EDDIE: [oddly pleased] Why thank you. 

POPPY: My goodness, did- did I say it wrong?

BARNABY: [gleeful] Not in the least, Pops!

SALLY: As far as I’m concerned, you added an extra layer of… pizazz to the word. In fact, I may adjust my own pronunciation accordingly!  

POPPY: [flustered] Oh, well, I didn’t - don’t change on my account -

SALLY: Take the compliment, Poppy. 

POPPY: [meekly] Thank you.

[Sally wanders from the group, practicing the slightly adjusted pronunciation]

WALLY: I’m not sure I understand. What’s wrong with carmul or… care… mul… carmel…

POPPY: Don’t strain yourself dear, you’ll get a migraine.

FRANK: What’s wrong is that it’s ENTIRELY incorrect! It! Is! Pronounced! Caramel!

JULIE: Aww, Frank, I’m sure Home and Howdy will agree with us! Team Caramel, WOOO!

BARNABY: [barely restrained disbelief] Boy, won’t they! 

POPPY: I’m not sure what the fuss is about… there isn’t much of a difference, is there?

[Frank makes a high pitched, frustrated noise and stomps off. He can be heard calling Home’s name in the background]

JULIE: Oop, there he goes!

POPPY:  Oh - oh dear. I didn’t mean to rile him up.

BARNABY: Don’t twist your beak about it - Frank’s just bein’ Frank. Now if you’ll excuse us, I wanna see how it goes with Home.

WALLY: [quietly, thoughtful] But Home doesn’t talk like us…

POPPY: If you’re sure… Do let me know how it goes. 

SALLY: [swaying back to the group] I’ll phone you post-haste! Or even better, I can come by for one of your delicious muffins and regale you with the whole escapade, in detail.

POPPY: [audibly pleased] That sounds - well that sounds like a wonderful idea! I have some fresh from this morning-

BARNABY: Sounds great! See you around, Poppy.

-

FRANK: Home, I have an important question to ask you. Is the correct pronunciation for this candy ‘carmul’, or ‘caramel’? One creak for caramel, two for the incorrect carmul.

BARNABY: Talk about a bias…

[Home stays silent. Sally yawns.]

FRANK: One creak for caramel, two-

[Home slowly shuts their curtains]

FRANK: Hmph! The nerve… well, I suppose a house that can’t speak shouldn’t have a say, anyway.

WALLY: Home can speak. He just does it differently.

BARNABY: And I’m pretty sure they just agreed with me, Walls, an’ Sally.

JULIE: They did not!

BARNABY: Looked like it to me!

SALLY: I have to agree with Julie. Home just declared itself a neutral party, and so the vote can’t be counted either way. On to Howardson!

JULIE: Yes! Howdy! Our last hope!

FRANK: He may have terrible taste in company, but he’s a sensible businessman. Poppy and Home have let me-

JULIE: Us!

FRANK: -us down, but surely Howdy will back us up. 

BARNABY: [faux-serious tone, knows something they don’t] Absolutely. Without a doubt.

-

[store bell chimes]

HOWDY: Howdy-do - [brief pause, a tinge of surprise] everyone! My my, what brings the entire neighborhood to my bountiful bodega? Finally decided to clean me out for good?

BARNABY: [snorts] With how fast you restock? I think I’d break my funnybone!

FRANK: We have important business.

HOWDY: [mildly curious] Do we? That’s news to me! But I’m letting you know now that I don’t deal in bugs, Frankly. It’d be hypocritical. 

FRANK: Believe me, I wish I were here to talk insects. Unfortunately, I need to settle a score. Mr. Dear, if you would?

EDDIE: If I would what?

SALLY: [stage-whisper] Barnabello gave you the, ah, parcel earlier?

EDDIE: The…? Oh! Oh, right - I have it right here, just… give me a second… which pocket…? There we go.

[sound of a small, hard candy placed on the countertop] 

HOWDY: A carmul all for me? You shouldn’t have! No, really, you shouldn’t have. I’m on the clock.

BARNABY: [loud bark of laughter] I knew I could count on you, pal! So what’s the tally, Frankie?

[Frank mutters something inaudible]

BARNABY: What was that? I couldn’t hear you over the sound of me bein’ right!

FRANK: [explosive] You’re all wrong! The correct pronunciation is caramel, CARAMEL! You’re all - you’re all just - heathens! Heathens, I say! I’m taking my company elsewhere! 

EDDIE: Mr. Frankly…

JULIE: [overlapping, following] Aw, c’mon Frank! 

[the door jingles. Julie and Frank’s hushed arguing in the doorway underlies the dialogue]

HOWDY: It sounds like I missed quite the context! Mind filling me in?

BARNABY: That was pretty much it; a real potato potahto argument.

HOWDY: If you say so, Barn. Speaking of potahtos-

[the background argument abruptly cuts off, the door jingles again as it's closed]

FRANK: [rapidly rejoining the group] Hold it! You don’t really say potahto, do you?

BARNABY: [under breath] Here we go again…

SALLY: [deeply amused] Where on Earth did you pick up such a butchered pronunciation? I must have missed the sign on my tour down from the heavens.

EDDIE: [baffled, underlying the dialogue] I’ve never heard anyone say it that way.

JULIE: Oh! Is it a joke? Like, Barnaby says potato-potahto, and then you jokingly say potahto to make us laugh? 

HOWDY: It’s not a joke. That’s how it’s said.

FRANK: [genuinely disturbed] No - no one says that. It’s potato.

HOWDY: Well I say potahto, thank you very much! And if you ever want one from my store again, you’d do well to accept that.

[Various grumbles of reluctant acceptance]

HOWDY: Good. Now, can I get any of you a refreshing drink after such a squall? You must be parched! 

WALLY: I wouldn’t mind a glass of mulk.

[Horrified silence. A pin drop would be deafening]

[Sudden uproarious and overlapping argument]

[tboom10]

i thought i'd be funny to write the entire script of the tadc pilot by hand.

sorry if the quality is bad lol

[subjectlambda]

I cannot express how happy I am to see the new Rick and Morty VAs taking pics and clearly having fun with the rest of the Smith/Sanchez VAs at the wrap party.

I honestly believe having separate VAs for Rick and Morty is going to completely elevate the show. Imagine how much more effective and realistic their interactions are gonna be when in the booth together, getting rid of R*iland will be the best thing they've probably ever done

[mintypsii]

dekho mujhay urdu mein lineay marne nahi aati meri taraf mat dekho yeh sanji ki galti hai

[cyberhai]

The 2021 MK movie is so much more enjoyable when you don't have a little demon in your ear screaming about why it sucked

[tootalltech]

FINALLY finished the bad batch. after being afraid to for months (which is ironic given, yk, my username and the entire reason my blog was created) so here's my brief angry thoughts before i pass out. if you're going to say "here's hemlock fucking around with dead(ish) soldiers bodies and turning them into his own personal assassins" AND WE HAVE A FORMER MEMBER OF THE SQUAD WHOSE BODY WAS NEVER SEEN BUT HEMLOCK APPARENTLY LOOKED FOR AND AT LEAST FOUND THE GOGGLES FROM. THEN WHY NOT DO SOMETHING WITH THAT. IT WOULDVE BEEN GOOD.

[flame-cat]

TALK ABOUT IT.

"Talk about...? Oh. Oh dear..."

"Oh, for fuck's sakes. I mean, this isn't- can you believe this, Stolas? A- a cosmically-ordained therapy session?"

"You know what? Truly, I can't. It's not as if we have anything more to say to each other on the matter."

"No, hang on, actually. Like, I get that the whole thing with the crystal went... not well. But you didn't let me finish talking. You just- sent me away! Like some sort of... servant. And I'll be honest, I really didn't appreciate that."

"I don't want to hear any more, Blitz. Please."

"No, you know what? I get that I hurt your feelings, and I'm sorry for that, but you didn't even give me a chance to say so before you just decided you knew how I felt about it!"

"I thought you made it very clear how you felt."

"No the fuck I didn't! I have no idea what you want from me anymore! We had a simple arrangement, and it was all fine, until suddenly you decided that you wanted something else from me, and the second I couldn't catch up you decided, again, that I just wasn't good enough for you! Well, I'm sick of you playing with my fucking feelings like the entitled prick you are! You're gonna listen to me now! Got it, asshole!?"

"... Alright."

"... A... alright?"

"Yes. Alright. I'll listen to what you have to say. It seems I don't really have a choice in the matter, anyway."

"That- that's just the thing, though! You've always had a choice! Our entire relationship has been about you and your choices! You've always been in control! And y'know what? Maybe I didn't always like it, but I was fine with it. I accepted it. And then suddenly you pulled out the rug from under me and changed the rules! That ain't fair, Stolas! It's not fair to me! It's not fair that you get to have whatever you want whenever you want it and I have to prostitute myself just to get by, and then you have the fucking audacity to act like we can have something after all that!

"I'm not your fucking plaything!"

"I don't want you to be! That's why I gave you the crystal in the first place- so you could choose. If you really, truly hate me, if you never want to see me again, then... then you can. I don't blame you. I wasn't fair to you. I... I want you to get what you want, Blitz. I want you to be happy. Even if it's without me."

"... I uh... I don't... really know what to say to that."

"Right. That's... that's fine."

"No, hang on, just let me get this figured out. So... that's it? You don't... want me anymore?"

"Of course I want you, Blitz. But what I want isn't the only thing that matters. I want to know what you want."

"... Uh..."

"Do you... not know?"

"Pft- Of course I know what I want! I- I want hot sex and gallons of liquor and a bloodbath every evening before I go to sleep in a big pile of money! That's what I want!

"That's... what I want..."

"... And... what do you want... from me?"

"... I... I uh...

"I dunno.

"I... didn't think I could ever... I never thought about that."

"... So... you need time to think about it?"

"I mean, maybe? I don't... I don't... this is all so fucking complicated..."

"It doesn't have to be. We can... start over. If you wanted to. Or, again, if you never want to see me again-"

"No!

"I... I do. Wanna see you again. I... I like seeing you."

"... You do?"

"... Yeah."

...

"... I think I don't know what I'm doing, actually."

"Heh. Yeah, sure seems that way.

"I, uh... I don't either, really."

"... But you want to see me again?"

"I just said that, didn't I?"

"Blitz. Please. Look at me.

"Do you want to... try? With me?"

"... I... I don't fucking know. Maybe? I- I don't want you to go away forever. I... I want you to stick around."

"For as long as you'll have me. Any way you'll have me."

"... You really mean that, don't you?"

"Of course I do."

"... You don't... you don't know me, Stolas. You don't know what I'm really like."

"I would like to. I really would. If you want to show me."

"... I don't know. I don't know- anything. ... I... I'm not a good person, Stolas. I'm... really fucking selfish. And a fuckup. And worthless. And annoying, and abrasive, and mean, and horny, and stupid, and- and so many things. Fuck, I even hurt you when you were just trying to...

"That's what I'm really like, Stolas. Yelling at you, pushing you away, acting like a fucking moron... that's who I really am."

"... I apologise for any possible offense, but I don't believe you."

"Huh?"

"You're right that you can be rude, abrasive, pushy, loud... but those are all things that I like about you. And even beyond that- I can see that you're more than a fuckup. You started your own business, you adopted a daughter, you made me realize where I was going wrong in my life. You have shown me so much, Blitz. All that I want is to show you the brilliant, strong, caring, beautiful man I see when I look at you. Please, just... even if it's just as friends. I want to show you what I see when I look at you. That's all."

"... Did I hypnotize you with my dick or something?"

"... I don't like you because of the sex, Blitz. I like you for the moments between. For who you are, not... what you can do for me. Please believe me on that."

"... You... you can't just..."

"Blitz. Please. Let me see you."

"... I... I don't know how."

"Hah! I don't either. Again, I really have no idea what I'm doing. But... I would like to find out. With you. If you'll have me."

"... Okay!"

"Really? Okay? You're sure?"

"No the fuck I'm not sure, this is terrifying! But hey, scary stuff turns me on, so why not?"

"I don't want you to agree if you're unsure, Blitz."

"I'm never gonna be sure. Not until I try it. So... so okay! Let's do this. Let's... let's try."

"We'll take it slow. Start from... friends. How does that sound?"

"... Can we still fuck?"

"That... depends. Do you... like fucking me?"

"I mean, yeah. You're kinda ridiculously hot."

"Oh, my, hahah... But, beyond that, though?"

"... Maybe we can just... stick to simple stuff for a while. Like, uh... I dunno. Cuddlefucking. We could do that."

"Whatever you like, Blitzy."

"... Could we... right now? Not the fucking part, but the... cuddling... part."

"I would love nothing more, my dear."

"Right. Cool."

"Comfortable?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm comfy."

"Are you sure? You're... erm... shaking, a bit."

"What? Am I? Nahhh, that's crazy, why would I be shaking, it's not like I'm absolutely fucking terrified right now! Totally cool!"

"We don't have to-"

"No!

"... Don't go anywhere. Please."

"Of course not. I'm right here. Whatever you like."

"... And this is... fine for you. You're fine with this."

"Absolutely. I'm perfectly happy like this. As long as you are."

"Yeah. Okay. Cool."

"... Blitz...?

"Oh, my darling, sh, sh, sh... It's alright. It's alright."

"... I... I don't know why... w-why can't I- stop-?"

"Sh, sh, sh, it's alright, it's alright. Just breathe, alright? You're alright. You're alright."

"I- fuck, I know, I kn-know-"

"Just let it out, my dear. Just let it out. It's okay."

"H-hang on, wait, wait, I need- need to-"

"Oh, alright, alright, okay. Do you want me to-"

"Stay. Please. J-just. Just don't... u-uh..."

"Here. Is this...?"

"Yeah, k-keep, keep doing- yeah. Mhm."

"Alright. Alright. I'm not going anywhere. Take your time, love."

"I-I'm, such a fucking mess..."

"I don't mind. You've certainly seen me quite a mess before, after all."

"Hahahaha! Y'know what? I have!"

"... Feeling better, I hope...?"

"I dunno. That was probably the worst love confession anyone's ever done. Not sexy at all."

"Well, sexy didn't happen to be what I was going for.

"... You really meant it? That you... want me by your side?"

"... Yeah. Yeah, I do."

"... Thank you. I swear, I'll make it all up to you."

"Oh, boy. So it's your turn to cry now, huh?"

"Ah, I apologise-"

"Stop it. You're fine. Fair's fair, right? And besides... you're already making it up to me. And... I'll... make it up to you, too."

"You didn't-"

"Just let me say the thing, and you can cry in my arms, and then we can... I dunno. Do whatever."

"... Whatever sounds nice."

[youaremysunshine-court]

The saddest thing is the witcher could have portrayed healthy found familial relationship in a non-traditional way, but they went and forced yennefer into the role of mother, geralt into the role of father, completely did away with jaskier, and didn't even bother to consider that every single witcher in Kaer Morhen could be considered ciris father, but no, there's a husband and a wife and a child and that's all there is to it

[velaraffricate]

so I've been working on my latest conlang, irkan osla (or just osla for short), for a bit now and would like to showcase its writing system in this post! osla has a syllabic alphabet, not too dissimilar to korean hangul, where letters are stacked according to certain rules to make syllable blocks.

osla's syllable structure is (C)(C)V(V)(C), here's how the stacks work for each type of syllable:

all letters have small, wide, and tall forms depending on their position in the syllable. here are all the letters with their IPA value and romanization:

and here's an example text! i translated parts of the minecraft end poem into osla. maybe i'll make another post just focusing on the grammar when it's more developed. the poem says in english:

What did this player dream? This player dreamed of sunlight and trees. Of fire and water. It dreamed it created. And it dreamed it destroyed. It dreamed it hunted, and was hunted. It dreamed of shelter.

Does it know that we love it? That the universe is kind? Sometimes, through the noise of its thoughts, it hears the universe, yes.

this post is getting long, so under the cut you'll find a "sans-serif" version as well as the poem in osla and its gloss if you're also a linguistics nerd and wanna know what's going on under the hood (the roman numerals stand for the 3 noun classes)! thanks for reading!

The way regular people would write something quickly on a piece of paper with a regular pen is an aspect of creating neographies that I feel is often overlooked, so I developed this sans-serif version that people would probably be more likely to use when writing their shopping lists or diary entries:

And, finally, here's the poem translation:

pak oṇḍul phan wimbakis?

DET.I.SG.PROX play-AGN what dream-PST.3SG.I?

pak oṇḍul lümaṇiuṣerothi han buloni an wimbakis. kaṣkhaothi han nilothi an. wimbakis, run sëmamkis. wimbakis, run xokthakis, han bumxokthakis. zöga an wimbakis.

DET.I.SG.PROX play-AGN sunlight-II.SG.DAT and tree-II.PL.DAT of dream-PST.3SG.I. Fire-II.SG.DAT and water-II.SG.DAT of. dream-PST.3SG.I, that create-PST.3SG.I. dream-PST.3SG.I, that hunt-PST.3SG.I, and PASS-hunt-PST.3SG.I. shelter of dream-PST.3SG.I.

ṭauraka, run kaak samare? run glutsüna flia?

know-NP.3SG.I, that 3SG.I.ABS love-NP.1PL? that universe kind?

imba ethamo, khaṣiŋli an ka’am hu’aŋni pitë, glutsüna ṣaraka, ti.

some time-NOM.III.PL, noise-ACC.II.SG of 3SG.I.GEN thought-NOM.III.PL through, universe hear-NP.3SG.I, yes.

[lottieurl]

like okay the thing is. the show is about characters who were hunting each other and eating each other in the wilderness so i just think. well. it was never gonna have a nat arc that tells her you're okay baby and your life has value sweetheart. like if it was a different show and nat simply had struggles with drugs and suicidal ideation because of the shit that happened with her abusive father and stuff and then she ultimately died tragically while trying to recover that could really be quite questionable but like. that's not the story? she wasn't getting better she was getting into a cult. that was led by the unstable old friend she was in a cannibal cult with before. she wasn't getting better she was getting into a cult mentality that's why her behavior was so strange people were thinking she's manipulating lottie when in fact she was just getting indoctrinated

i do NOT think it was meant to be a "redemption arc" either like i've seen people say. i do not think it was supposed to FEEL like redemption that's why it DIDN'T. you weren't supposed to be tearing up like oh but with this death she made up for everything they did out there. she never could! none of them ever can! it's not about that. i think it's supposed to be tragic in a preventable way to parallel jackie's death in a way. a different set of circumstances allowed her to survive in the wilderness and doomed her in the present. she saw a moose and brought people to the lake to make a hole in the ice and pull out the moose. the ice wasn't as strong in that place which is probably why javi stepping on there broke the ice. and she was gonna save javi but misty stopped her. and this time misty found her and called for everyone to come because she was there and nat's visions at lottie's cult set off the chain of events. and this time misty's attempt to save her just led to her death instead. nat's attempt to save lisa's life led to nat losing hers like javi's attempt to save nat's life led to javi losing his

[actuallyitsstar]

headcanon asks for Bradley: 1 and 19?

✨ send me a number + a character for headcanons! ✨

1: holiday headcanon

christmas was always one of bradley's favorite holidays, all throughout his childhood. every adult in young bradley's life, all with varying backgrounds and types of childhoods of their own, could come together to agree on one thing: bradley's christmases should be magical. carole, trying to keep the magic of those first three christmases with everyone all together alive; mav, trying to give bradley the kind of happy memories he never had; ice and slider, woven into the family by carole's steady hand, determined to give this little makeshift family what it needs. bradley remembers holiday baking with mom, learning about the traditions of ice's family, so different from theirs; neatly-wrapped gifts from santa, much lumpier gifts that were also "from santa", supposedly, but he knew those ones were from uncle mav- it would be fair to say bradley was a little spoiled when it came to the holiday season.

after carole is gone, and it's just he and mav, those years are empty and feel meaningless, but they try. they try for carole's memory, for each other, and for ice and the others. bradley's eventual disillusionment with the holiday doesn't start there- no, it starts after.

once he and mav have their falling out, it's like someone has flipped the light switch. the last few chrismases were quiet ones, lonely without mom, sure- but he and mav got thru them together. after losing mav, too, though, it's radio silence. bradley goes from loving and enjoying the christmas season to hating it, overnight. the first christmas after is bleak. a long december and a somehow even longer december 25th. the only accompaniment that he has for the next four years of college are the cards and the letters he doesn't open. he spends it in the dorms alone while everyone else goes back to their families.

once he meets phoenix in flight school, things start to look up, just a little. she has a lively, bustling family full of extended relatives and family friends, and they're happy to fold in one more. it still doesn't feel right. it doesn't make him feel at home. for all their effort and kindness, phoenix's mom is nothing like carole and phoenix's dad is is nothing like goose- and as much as he hates himself for thinking it, more importantly, is nothing like mav- and the traditions and energy are all so different that it just feels unfamiliar. though it tugs painfully on his emotional aches and pains, he is grateful to have somewhere to go and happy to be included, even if it only exemplifies to him how alone he really is, and how he really doesn't seem to belong anywhere.

post-mission, post-reconciliation, bradley isn't sure what to expect. he imagines that mav would have built a life without him in it by now and is dismayed to learn this is not the case. he isn't sure if mav will want him around for the holidays after everything he's done and said. phoenix pushes him, telling him that of course he's welcome at the trace family table again this year, but you really ought to stick around and sort this shit out. through much hesitation, bradley does.

the post-reconciliation christmas is not lively or bright or boisterous like the christmases of old. it'll never be the same, without mom, without uncle ice, when the other flyboys have families of their own to worry about now. but mav welcomes him, wants him to be there, and it's more at home than bradley has felt in fifteen long years. it's not about the food or the gifts or the decorations. it's about the people- person, actually. it's about being invited into mav's life and heart even when he knows he can never deserve to be in those places again. at the end of the day, the old christmases were always about family and love and connection, and even though they're quite different on the surface, the new christmas is about all those things, too.

19. favorite photograph headcanon

photos were and are such an important part of the bradshaw-mitchell family. bradley knows it- and it's a part of why, when he leaves, he doesn't take the photos of himself and mav. he knows that to mav, that will say something, loud and clear, and he wants to be hurtful- he wants his emotions to be heard and understood. instead, he takes with him only the photos of his mom and dad, and a couple with the flyboys that mav took, and subsequently was not in; but bradley tells himself that he doesn't need the pieces of a relationship that there's no point in trying to salvage, so he leaves all of those pieces behind.

except for one.

it's a somewhat dilapidated polaroid, taken with his dad's old camera, snapped by carole as she'd stood on the back porch of the little bungalow house that bradley grew up in. in it, a six-year-old bradley sits in mav's arms, held up at eye-level in one strong arm as mav points up with the other. bradley has one hand fisted into mav's shirt, and his gaze and rapt attention are locked overhead. mav always used to tell little bradley to look up at the stars if he missed him, because it's the same stars- they always have that between them, at least. in the photo, mav points out the constellations they share even when apart, and bradley listens intently, trying to commit the names to memory. when he became old enough to have one, bradley used to keep it in his wallet.

eventually, when it's all fallen apart and those connections between them have been severed, bradley gives a new photo the place of honor in his wallet, a photo of he and mom- but he can't just throw out the old picture, no matter how angry he feels when he looks at it, no matter how badly he wants to. it goes into the box with everything else, with letters and cards and artifacts that mav sends him or that he can't bring himself to throw away. sometimes on a quiet, lonely night aboard a carrier or on leave, floating adrift in the world with no anchors to speak of, he thinks about it. he looks at the stars and he sees that image in his mind's eye and he remembers being six years old and thinking mav would always be there, and he wonders sometimes in the most empty moments if the old man still remembers all that shit about the stars. if he ever still looks at them, still thinks of it, of bradley, if he ever wonders anything about bradley the way bradley wonders about him. deep down inside, he knows that he mustn't. deep down inside, he tells himself that there's no chance in hell mav does. because, if he does, it means bradley threw away something that was still alive. it's a fate he cannot bring himself to accept.

when they've reconciled, bradley will find that old beat-up picture in the box. he'll show it to mav. i never forgot, he'll quietly admit. i always thought about it. i- i guess i thought that you probably didn't even care to look at them anymore. i just- i thought it was over. mav will take the photo, tattered and much-handled, from bradley's outstretched hand, studying it with a reverence that bowls bradley right over. i looked at 'em every night, baby goose, he'll admit. always hoped you might be looking, too.

tysm for this ask !!! and for your infinite patience in my disastrous ability to reply 😭😭but i loved answering this ask sm !!! and i definitely did not answer it in longhand at my job and i also definitely did not accidentally write so much about the christmas thing that i had to chop it way down for this ask because it accidentally kind of became a chapter of something lol. i am a disaster. but thank u so much and i hope u enjoy and are well!! <3<3<3

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

phone calls my detested

[chimkin-samich]

Nebula act 3 is gonna have 13 parts.

I know cuz I just completed it and put it into the right folders... A total of 34 more panels before the end. Which is not much if we take in consideration the length of the entire thing

🙃

Sometimes I sit and wonder why I did this to myself...

[lighthouseas]

absolutely infuriating to me when people do not understand basic storytelling

[cronagorgonzola]

Ok so Star Trek: Enterprise really seemed to be improving in season 3 ever since they abandoned the shapeshifting lizard people as the series villain and stopped trying to put T'pol and Archer together but then we came across an episode last night that baffled us so thoroughly we stayed up for an extra hour just yelling into the void about it

So, Enterprise comes across this destroyed insectoid ship. The crew are dead and most systems are down and they dont know why. And then on the ship they find a hatchery of insectoid eggs. Babies. It's the most fortified section of the ship and the only section that still has life support.

Turns out, the crew cut power to their own life support in order to keep the hatchery running. They sacrificed themselves to save these babies. Phlox analyzes their anatomy and learns that they reproduce asexually, concludes there is likely a hatchery like this on every insectoid ship. So now we know two things: these children were loved, and the crew of this ship was not especially negligent for having them onboard, because this is a normal practice for their people.

Archer says "we gotta save these babies." The crew is skeptical, because saving the babies would take a lot of resources and put Enterprise in danger. For once i agree with Archer - they gotta save the babies. He makes a lot of really good arguments, like "we have a chance to show the Xindi that we're not the monsters they think we are," and "if this was a nursery of primate babies, you wouldnt think twice about saving them." That good Star Trek shit. No one actually directly refutes this argument, they just say they dont want to save the babies.

The whole episode goes on like this, with Archer fervently trying to save these babies while the rest of the crew stands around saying "idk i think the captain's going crazy." T'pol refuses a direct order to help with saving the babies, so Archer relieves her of command. This is seen as evidence that Archer is going crazy. Another insectoid ship shows up, and Reed blows them out of the sky without even attempting to communicate, so Archer relieves him of command as well. This is further evidence that Archer is going crazy.

Then the senior staff fucking mutinies. They say, "captain, youve taken this whole 'save these babies' thing too far, let us kill the babies." The babies have started to hatch and Archer is getting weird with it. They drag him off to sick bay and scan his brain - turns out, he was infected with some kind of alien pheromone that gave him an irresistable urge to protect these babies. He was not, in fact, following a moral code that compelled him to protect innocent life, or trying to set a good example for humanity as they join the interstellar community. He was just crazy all along! No attempt is made to refute the (very good) arguments he made in favor of saving the babies, the viewers are just meant to accept the premise that saving the babies isnt worth it actually, because it would take a lot of resources. Archer even says "yeah if i was normal i wouldve just let the babies die" and leaves it at that - no slow zoom in on his face as he realizes what that means about him, no speech about how humanity needs to outgrow old prejudices to see the sanctity of diverse life, the episode just leaves off on "those babies were creepy it wouldve been fine to kill them."

But the episode still makes a point to tell the viewer that the babies will survive, because the writers understand that when you put a bunch of babies in danger, people will naturally worry for their safety. Not the crew, though. It's super fine and normal that they were totally willing to let those babies die, the captain was definitely the crazy one for trying to save them.

[thousandheadeddolphin]

An overly detailed analysis of the scp foundations adopted son, the backrooms

Due to the fact that I have no control over my interests, ive decided that im gonna post cringe and start writing a minimum 100 word (50 for subrooms) review of every single backrooms level (or at least as many as I can get through before the hyperfixation burns out). And before we can actually get to the meat and potatoes, we gonna discuss the universal quality cap contained within the very premise of the modern backrooms (more under the cut)

The history of backrooms is like, pretty simple, and actually kind of similar to how scp started. Some guy posted an imagine with the caption:

"If your not careful and noclip out if reality in wrong areas, you'll end up in the backrooms, where it's nothing but the stink of moist carpet, the madness of mono-yellow, and endless backround noise of fluorescent lights at maximum hum-buzz, and approximately six hindered million square miles of randomly segmented empty rooms to be trapped in.

God save you if you hear something wandering around nearby, because it sure as hell has heard you"

The concept very quickly caught on, because even retrospectively, the concept is really good, and then people started to write about. And at this point, it varies very, very heavily from scp. Because scp-173s whole premise doesnt crumble like a sandcastle upon any elaboration.

Ill blaze through this part simply because its by far the most common criticism of the backrooms and im not getting ad revenue from puffing up a video about it. You cant add entities or other humans because the vagueness of the final line and also ruins the isolation inherent to the original passage. You cant add more levels because that gives the person somewhere to go and makes the person less trapped, you cant make your levels death traps because thats just not scary, and you sure as hell cant make them safe because that removes the looming threat of death (this last point also applies to lucky o' milk and almond water). But personally, I dont think that talking about this helps the writers, or even gives us a better feel for what these writers are doing wrong, so instead im gonna focus on the main problem with the backrooms

The writing style is contradictory with the material presented

Since the backrooms popularity boom happened congruently with the one for liminal spaces (which ill just use interchangably with "eerily empty nostalgic space, even though the original definition just describes one thats transitional) even the most recent levels try to invoke this sort of setting. This within itself, is great. Theres a lot of room for very personal, intimate horror, especially when combined with isolation. Guess what they tried to do with it?

They jacked scps writing style, which for those not in the know, is intentionally written from a dry, neutral voice. To describe a setting meant to invoke one of the most personal emotions one can have.

Beyond this, articles, as evidenced by their often dubious writing quality, are written by teens who are far too young to have experienced that kind of nostalgia, so a lot of the articles end up not being able to fully capture the feeling, even if they werent written like a courtroom report.

To summarize, the premise is just kind of limiting within itself, even detached from any disloyalty to the original premise of the backrooms.

anyhow Im releasing the first review tomorrow