#It's funny because it could be used for comic situations.

[shyshiny]

Hello everyone! Good morning, afternoon or evening, depending on when you are viewing this post.

I had no ideas until I remembered again the relationship that Shrike and Zeckoy would have (in addition to recently watching "Cut along the dotted line" and its sequel) that's why I wanted to draw them but not just with the two of them alone, this is Zero ( from the series already mentioned before, I love him btw), Vivi (again) and Juno (@havockingboo oc). Just that, I wanted to draw all 5 of them because I wanted to do it lol

[gb-patch]

GB Patch Games: Sensitivity Reader Update

Okay, well I am able to make another statement before Rose does. I can now explain much more easily why I didn’t fire Rose. There’s been new developments with the leakers. The people behind this have doxed Rose’s discord account (please don’t go looking for it) and also shared a screenshot of an email that was sent to my support address months ago. They believe that incriminates us somehow, but really all it’s done is shown in broad daylight what they were doing and why I was defending Rose so much. If I had brought up that email as a connection to this myself people understandably would’ve thought I was making a conspiracy.

However, it is out now. Here is the story- a few months ago someone who wanted to remain anonymous sent me an email with a screenshot where Rose called me a cracker. And I told them I appreciated the concern but it’s alright, was there evidence of Rose being unkind to players? They had nothing. No response.

As an aside, yes, I have been aware for a long time that Rose uses crude language when talking about me. That doesn’t mean I’ve hidden how evil they were from players. It means I’m allowed to choose what I’m comfortable with. That original “reveal” didn’t shock or upset me in any way. Our Life is a sensitive, wholesome game, but I’m a full-grown adult. I’m not innocent or pure. The game I released before OL is XOXO Blood Droplets. Something I wrote and released to the public is full of crude jokes, curse words, and violence. It’s cartoonish and comical, but edgy. Rose themselves likes to BS with bad words and I’m not accepting abuse because I think getting called a pussy is funny. I know Rose doesn’t hate me or wish me any harm. Rose also isn’t causing “discourse” for me and my games on purpose, they were joking that bringing up serious topics is “discourse” to some people. Ironically, the leakers who did this are trying to make some “discourse” on purpose.

Regardless, I initially thought that email was from someone earnestly worried for me and that they moved on when it was clear I was fine. But that’s not what happened. Them and at least one other person have been waiting for months to bring this up again. They went through almost a year’s worth of Rose’s private posts to collect as many unflattering screenshots as they could, and then they didn’t send them to me. They posted them publicly. I had a suspicion from the get go that it was the same person/people from before who couldn’t prove anything to me in private. And if true, how horrible is it that a bunch of the comments they shared were crude language towards me, something they already knew I’d brush off as nothing. They decided for me that it was wrong and they wanted the rest of the players to do the same. Or even less charitably, those extra posts were simply there to make Rose look as bad and untrustworthy as possible and they didn’t care that I was comfortable with it. I could not explain everything we were thinking/feeling at first, but behind the scenes we were discussing how this was personally motivated and not a knee-jerk act without forethought. And we do know for certain at least the main people involved now, and they do have personal issues with Rose.

Also, if you still believe that they just wanted to help the game at any length because Rose is that huge of a risk, showing that email and framing something innocuous about me (not fainting at the word “cracker” and politely being open to more proof) as serious “evidence of wrongdoing” at GB Patch Games makes me believe they want to smear Rose so bad they’ll try to turn players against me as well. Plus, the post is framed as “this email was anonymously sent to me”, but we know from account details that the people who could’ve gotten those screenshots of the discord and email are the same people who sent that email and started this situation, which is embarrassing. I’ve confirmed the screenshots shared in the email to me and the original public post came from the same private, “venting-safe” discord server. There’s very few people in there. We know it’s still you and not a separate source. I can’t prove they think I’m stupid or in their way, but I can’t see how anything they’re doing is trying to be beneficial to the creation of OL: NF. They told me in the email they’d give me more evidence if I requested it and I was ready to know, but instead they went silent for months and then did this.

I want it to be clear that this doesn’t mean players can’t wonder if Rose has enough experience to be a sensitivity reader right now, or to worry they’re so invested in the game that it’s going to effect how objective they are with their feedback, or to say that Rose is flawless and has never done anything hurtful. However, I hope you can understand why I was on Rose’s side and couldn’t just fire them over this. It felt so incredibly unfair. If another person tries to get their way by doing this in the future, I will not hail them as a hero and immediately fire at the target. And I don't tolerate any racial harassment of any kind to anyone on my team.

If those people want to continue to share Rose’s private posts in retaliation, you can fuck off. If you somehow reveal now that Rose is secretly a murderer, I’m not gonna apologize and say I was so wrong about you. If you had tons of evidence of Rose being horrible to players, you should’ve sent it all to me and with full context to begin with in the email like you offered to do. I just don’t understand.

Any players who like to see someone’s least flattering points portrayed in the worst possible way and continue flocking to the leaks as fandom drama, I don’t want you in this fandom. I don’t want you to enjoy my games.

Anyone who has been truly hurt by this and are left confused and angry, I do completely understand that. I didn’t know how to handle this, and it made a lot of people not know how to keep trusting me. I am still looking into getting a community manager to help me better communicate with players, especially when something serious happens. And I’ll always be around for you to reach out to if you have doubts about anything.

[kaciebello]

Offspring garden

Masterlist Luke Castellan x Demetre! reader (fem) Summary: Luke and the reader are the unofficial parents of the camp, whether they like it or not. Warning: Non, no use of y/n author note: English is not my first language so I am sorry for any mistakes beforehand. Proofread by me and me only (Ｔ▽Ｔ ) Requested! word count: 1.2k

“LUKE CASTELLAN” A yell could be heard throughout the whole camp. The boy in question lifts his head from his sword to look for the source of the noise. Only to see a familiar girl with an angry scold on her face. He stands up when he sees her, dragging two familiar boys behind her. He just signs and makes his way to them.

“Hello, honey.” He says, hoping to de-escalate the situation. She just huffs and points a finger at him before turning to the two boys who were now looking at the floor in shame.

“Don't you even dare to sweet talk me, Luke?” To him this was comical. The Stroll brothers often did something they shouldn't, they however did not get caught that much. No, seeing them being scolded by a girl who’s just a few years older was funny. She resembled a mom giving a lecture to her children She turned to him again.

“Keep your siblings in check, because if I catch them again in my garden-”

“You're gonna what?” Luke says, coking his head to the side with a smile.  Her eyes narrow at him as she steps closer. The boys yelp out a little ‘ sorry, mom’ teasing tone in their voice, as everybody noticed some of the younger kids calling her that by accident during the campfire last night. She ignores them and takes our step to Luke. He secretly waves his arm at the boys and they scatter away as quietly as they can, although few giggles leave them anyway.

“Don't try me today Luke, we have so much to do and I don't have the time or the patience for this. And you, you are- Luke where have they gone?” She says her eyes flipping between him and the place where the boys were standing a minute ago. Luke just shrugs and smiles. The girl sighs placing her shaking her head.

“You can’t just let them go, I brought them here for a reason.” She says kicking a stone with her foot. Luke took her hands in his, wrapping them around his neck. Now that he had her undivided attention he rocked them back and forth.

“They're just kids.”

“Cheeky, that's what they are.” Luke just laughs. Leaning in, their noses brush on each other. Before Luke could continue, a pair of giggles were heard before the water fell on them from the top of the Hermes cabin. In shock, the pair steps away from each other and look up. There they were, the Stroll brothers, with two buckets of water having the time of their life.

“LUKE!” He's not sure he can get them out of this one.

—

Being the counselor of their cabin did give them an advantage. Granted, it was more work than the normal ‘training to be a hero ‘ thing. The older campers however did not mind, because it meant they got to call light out. Now the Demeter cabin went to sleep almost as soon as the sun set, not fans of the dark. The Hermise cabin, however, is quite the opposite. If they had to pick they would switch the whole camp to night one. 

However, it was not unusual to see the Demetre cabin counselor at the Hermes cabin after she called light out on her own. Not that Luke was having a problem with his cabin, no. Well kinda, it's always hard for the new kids, and he and his siblings are more mischief than anything else. The friendly face of the Demetre kids makes them calm down and fall asleep despite the noise.

He was leaning on the doorframe, his eyes glued to the girl reading kids' stories. He was supposed to keep an eye on his siblings. That was their deal. But he only started to pay attention to them when a shirt was thrown in his face. Taking it down and looking up to try and find a culprit, he finds Chris with a smirk on his face. Luke just rolls his eyes and throws it back. Making his was the girl who was tucking in the last camper. His hand lands on the small of her back as she straightens.

“ All done?” He whispers although it is useless when he hears his sibling laugh at full volume. The girl looks up at him and nods. Turning and making her way to the cabin door. Luke follows her very close by.

“Will you walk me back?” She asks, playing with his bracelets. 

“Why? Scared of the dark?” He cocks his head to the side. Only receiving a glare from the girl. Before she can answer one of the Hermes girls pipes in.

“You have the same conversation every night, You are boring as an old married couple with kids.” She says before letting her head hit the pillow. Both Luke and the girl look at her. The Demeter girl shakes it off before he does. Letting off his hand and clearing her throat.

“Alright, that is enghou, lights out!” She said, making sure everyone could hear her. Some kids listened right away and some hesitated before laying down too.

“But you not our-”

“I SAID LIGHTS OUT.” The light switch was flipped to the end she said. All that could be heard was the cabin door opening and closing, indicating that the two counsellors had left on their adventure.

—

They were both sitting on the floor. Her back was pressed to his chest as she sat between his legs. Watching Annabeth, Percy and Grover fool around the arena. Luke insisted they needed training, although he was not teaching them anything. The girl opted to read her book, as this is as quiet as it gets around the busy camp.

“What do you say we go on an adventure next summer,” Luke says catching her attention enough to listen but not enough to put away her book.

“Chiron is not letting us go on a quest Luke.” She says nonchalantly. Luke just shakes his head and his hand goes to play with the corner of the book.

“No, I meant like, go and have a trip, Europe maybe.” He finishes and the girl chuckles. Turning over a page before finishing her chapter. Make sure she places a bookmark before closing the book and putting it aside. She leans even further onto him before answering.

“ As if Mr. D is gonna let us leave. We basically run the camp for him.” She says and Luke laughs. His arm now resting across her chest, both watching the trio who were playing some kind of game. It looks like a twisted version of Marko Pollo as Annabeth kept going invisible to confuse Percy even more. Luke leans down and kisses the girl on the forehead. She looks up at him with a smile before reaching to pat his head and tug at the base of his curls.

In bliss they sat, soaking in the sun. A quiet day where they get to be teenagers. All, however, comes to an end when someone yells out ‘Mom’ and all heads turn to her. The girl can just groan before getting up and following the sound. Flowers blooming in her hair out of frustration. Luke does not stay that far behind

[biiistre]

A couple Wonder Woman disguises! I think Diana is a pretty interesting character to put undercover because truth is so fundamental to who she is; watching her try to pretend to be someone she isn’t has a lot of potential to be funny and interesting. Here we have her as a socialite, a nurse, a nun, and a security guard, more thoughts under the cut

Generally speaking, I think putting Diana in more undercover scenarios would be interesting for her character because they’d necessitate situations she can’t brute force her way out of. Diana rarely gets to do mystery solving in her comics because of her superpowers and her lasso, so making her work without both to get to the bottom of things could be a fun way to let her personality, flaws, and values shine through. In a hypothetical Wonder Woman rewrite, this could also help consolidate all the odd jobs she’s had across her comics into particular plotlines.

-Impersonating a socialite is classic, but I think it could be extra funny for Diana in her early days because she would be baffled by all the weirdly specific social rules the upper class has (especially for women) and she’d have very little patience for passive aggression and hearsay, the latter of which is essential if you’re trying to get to the bottom of a mystery. Watching her try to maintain the socialite front, especially if she’s impersonating someone specific, while oscillating between being bored and annoyed by nonsense rich people talk and picking up gems of useful information between would be an interesting scenario for her.

-iirc a nurse was the first job she ever had in the comics, and the first instance of her ‘Diana Prince’ moniker coming up, where she started by impersonating an actual nurse with that name (with permission too, lol). In the same spirit, I think this disguise would be one she adopts impulsively on her own instead of with any input or backup from her friends.

-Diana would be a horrible nun for the same reasons she’d be a horrible socialite. She has no tolerance for bad behavior and in a storyline where she had to infiltrate an evil convent of some kind, this would constantly be a problem for her.

-In my ideal world where Etta heads an internationally renowned band, Diana’s most reoccurring alias could be as her security guard! rosie-by-another-name suggested this in the tags of one of my text posts and I think it’s a great idea, it could give her an excuse to travel alongside Etta on tour and a good vantage point for spotting anything amiss.

[sugar-grigri]

Denji no longer has access to his heart

The golden rule in Chainsaw Man is to focus on the title, since it's the key to reading the story.

Rain, Brothel, Removal seem to be three absurdly unrelated elements, and Fujimoto likes to put it that way, because the challenge for the reader is to find a way of reading that links them together.

This chapter is funny as well as disturbing, deeply sad, and in itself this collection of sensations just makes you uncomfortable, since the tone is always reversed, and the protagonist himself refuses to allow his situation to be a comic spring.

Fujimoto confirms an interpretation that is fundamental to understanding Denji: his character thinks only in terms of short-term objectives, incapable of projecting himself, just as he responds only to the satisfaction of needs without being able to verbalize and think about his unhappiness in a more abstract way.

Denji, for example, isn't thinking about whether sex is actually a solution to his problems, no, it's more concrete than that: he's thinking about whether he's masturbated recently.

Another piece of evidence is the rain. I've always thought that when it rains in Fujimoto's works, it's proof that no lies are being told.

Whether in Look Back with a silent victory, the school moment with Reze and Denji.

But that's not what we're interested in here, because there's no doubt that Denji is sincere, or at least the rain only shows us that he's sincerely desperate.

There's a subtlety....

Denji complains that he only thinks with his dick, but there's another, more philosophical and certainly less funny idea behind this: Denji only thinks through his body.

The rain, the amputation, the brothel - they're all proof that Denji only thinks with his senses.

Denji thought the brothel was the solution to his distress, it's when it started raining that he collapsed, as if the change in weather had evoked his own emotional change. Yoru's solution is amputation, another physical sensation and solution.

Amputation is a solution all the more symbolic because it's antithetical to what Denji is: a demon man capable of regeneration.

To amputate is in itself not to regenerate, and not to regenerate is in itself to be more human.

What distinguishes us from animals (although science relativizes this) is the way we think about our own emotions, something Denji is incapable of doing, or at least has great difficulty in doing.

This doesn't mean he can't verbalize it at all, but when he evokes, he evokes a sensation, a dish (a shitty hamburger, a steak, a ton of sex).

Even when he wants to be loved, Denji formulates it in the form of wanting his heart, almost organically.

No one wants Denji's heart because it's gone

And it makes sense, because Pochita has reassembled his entire body, except for Denji's heart, which has literally been left in that garbage can.

That's why, when Pochita lets Denji access his feelings, the place is symbolized by a garbage can.

When Denji asks Pochita to wake up to find Nayuta, Pochita asks him where his legs are, because Denji's only function is to be a body.

And now everything makes sense again

When Denji spoke his dream to Pochita, being Chainsaw Man, I think there was a certain feeling in every reader: what exactly does it change?

What if it changes nothing? It's normal for Denji not to be able to project himself in the long term, as he should symbolically listen to his heart.

Denji's inability to have a dream, a goal for the future, is symbolized by him and Pochita as children.

It doesn't mean that Pochita is an antagonist (although that could be cool), but that Denji and Pochita are prisoners of their own situations.

Denji doesn't have access to his heart, but Pochita is contractually bound to what Denji wants.

This is also why, when Denji reproaches himself, it's his child self who's addressing him, because the only way to reproach himself, to feel guilty, is symbolized by his old self, the Denji that Pochita may have known. Just as Denji doesn't have access to his heart, Pochita has difficulty gaining access to the person Denji has become, all of which only leads to stagnation.

Denji as a child is also the symbol of a scumbag, the remnant of a lost heart, always dressed in poor, dirty clothes, a past that Denji seeks to escape, but a past that is the only time Pochita has been able to get to know Denji.

I know it's a pretty crazy line, but it's precisely because Denji is Chainsaw Man - a being both fused and disconnected - that he thinks with his dick lol

Saving Chainsaw Man by killing Chainsaw Man has never been a truer statement

Chainsaw Man is Denji's prison but also his only hope

A cage

[ask-the-rag-dolly]

after listening to an among us song i was given the drive to reboot this au so ,

originated from a doodle that spiraled , SPREAD THE INFLUENCE is an au where ragatha is the ( unwilling ) host of a parasite called ' the influence ' which is a virus that only wants to spread and survive . she wasn't compliant about it at the beginning which was ' fixed ' with an itty bitty bit of psychological torment !

also yes i know the abbreviation is unfortunate and i do not care it's funny

even though ragatha's still our usual sweet little optimist , there is this persistent feeling of wrongness . too positive . too affectionate . it's like all of her humanity has been scooped out and you're left with the mask she made for others in the circus .

which is how the virus spread in the circus - they preyed on vulnerabilities which was what their host is perfect for . striking when the victim puts their guards down , making them submit under the guise that their problems will be fixed ... unfortunately it's a monkey's paw situation .

of course , that's only for this particular instance of the influencer ! something to note is that the virus takes a lot from the host's personality , so t.i's mellow and passive , only resorting to violence whenever necessary . t.i's not really an opposite ragatha she's more like a Dark , Fucked Up Version of ragatha the amazing digital circus . she cares a lot for everyone she considers a part of her hive , but it took a lot of manipulation and gaslighting for them to get infected .

caine is left uninfected because " i would do that if my goal is to destroy this place ! " t.i's ultimate fear has always been dying . it'll do everything to not die , to the point it's trying to spread out of the circus ( <- honestly take this info with a grain of salt i wrote this before i fully developed the story ) . unfortunately there's this jester who's resisting the virus with pure lesbian rage and is trying to stop her .

now rags would eventually get de-influenced and the circus will no longer be infected , but we will talk about the extremely rocky journey of recovering from knowing you harmed everyone you cared about Later

was this ' the influence ' that amanda ( ragatha's va ) keeps referencing ? sighs ... yeah . ( feels so surreal that i can say i have their seal of approval for this )

why ragatha ? in story , how is she not the perfect host ? metatextually , this is an au of an au - this came from a blog about ragatha getting a virus that is inconveniencing her life . i simply thought of an idea of ' hey what if the virus took over her body ' one day . then this abomination was born . i would reveal the why and how she got infected ... eventually .........

is she still afraid of centipedes ? is it a ragatha if she doesn't have a fear of centipedes

does pomni still use a taser ? yeah

could i use / be inspired by the influence for my au ? i did not invent the concept of Computer Viruses so feel free to be inspired by it , no credit needed . for t.i as a character specifically , please credit me !

are there ships ? just pomni x ragatha

is suggestive content of t.i ok ? just don't send them to me , tag it as #tw suggestive or #suggestive so i could filter it out

is nsfw content of t.i ok ? my tiny artist hands are powerless against the unstoppable force that is the internet so my answer will not matter . that being said , i recommend that they're not put in the main au tag so people won't unexpectedly come across it . and no i do not want to see it please do not send them to me

could i draw fanart / write fanfic of this au ? 100% yes you could either mention me or tag it under #tadc influence au

does this au have an ask blog ? nah just a normal blog lol

READ THE COMIC ... I GUESS ... !!

the main story

oh boy a prologue

[stormz369]

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 1

Jason Todd x Chubby! Reader (fem) A/N: I don't know what I'm doing here, I'm not even much of a DC fan, but Jason Todd has quickly become my latest hyper fixation character (Harley Quinn too, do I just have a thing for Joker victims???) so ... thank you for giving me a place to put this energy I guess! 😂 I'm not super confident on the characterizations, but I'm going with it because I like it. If it's wildly ooc ... that tracks, given that the only DC comic I've read is Batman: Wayne Family Adventures. Read it, or don't, I just needed to get the thoughts out of my head. The art doesn't belong to me, but the writing does. Please do not post elsewhere!

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, starting out fluffy, will probably get NSFW later so minors DNI, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

word count: 1.7k

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

In a city known for its masked fighters, you learn pretty quickly that everyone and everything is a potential threat. Every approaching stranger on the street, every loud sound behind you, every dark alleyway. Being bigger than me certainly isn't a prerequisite to being a danger, but it does have a way of setting off my mental alarms. I've found that big men are used to getting their way, and they get all sorts of bent out of shape if you deny them their wishes. Especially when they think they're doing you a favor.

It died down a bit after high school; I learned to exist in public with ‘fuck off’ stamped across my face. Headphones on, reading a book, intentionally seated at the table furthest from the other cafe patrons. All the typical signs of someone who wants to be left alone; nothing about me said ‘please come talk to me'. So I was understandably on edge when I noticed someone standing by the chair across from me. I look up just a bit, gesturing to the chair with a nod. Silent consent to take it back to his table and leave me to my book.

No such luck. The man simply smiled and mimed taking headphones off. Putting a bored look on my face, I moved one off my ear. “... Hm?”

“Hi! I'm sorry to bother you, but my brother thinks you're really beautiful and is refusing to come tell you himself.” 

I could feel my expression turning to stone. “... What is this, middle school?”

His cheerful grin faltered ever so slightly; “hey, I know it's a bit silly, but he's awkward around cute girls, so what's a brother to do, ya know?”

I stared him down; “... You're not fooling anyone. Move on.”

“... Sorry, ‘fooling anyone’?”

“It’s not funny, it’s not even hurtful the 20th time, it's just annoying. Go. Away.” It was a lie; it was always painful to be on the receiving end of these pranks. But that was what these guys wanted, so I wasn't going to tell him that. My headphones back in place, the guy slunk away.

Ten minutes later, another person was standing by the chair. I pretended not to see him, continuing to read my book, until he plopped down in the seat. I looked up slowly and he smiled, another oddly warm smile, leaning forward on his elbows.

An incredibly put-out sigh later, I slid the headphones off one ear again. “What?”

“Hi, I'm Tim! I'm not sure what exactly my brother said to you, but I wanted to let you know - we're not trying to prank you or something. Our brother is just way too awkward with girls. It's painful to watch, really, so we figured we'd give him a hand.” He spoke much too fast for me to get a word in. I blinked a bit, raising an eyebrow.

“... You frat boys are really committing to the bit these days, huh?”

“Huh? No, really, I promise!”

My headphones were nearly back into place when a child showed up. His impatient expression matched how I felt about the whole situation. “As usual, Drake, your plans are far too convoluted to be effective. Watch and learn.”

He turned to me, nothing about his demeanor changing; “hello. Todd said we shouldn't bother you because you ‘clearly want to be alone’, but I am convinced the only way to stop their nonsense is if he comes over. May he have a moment of your time?”

Frowning a little, I stared at the kid. He stared right back, neither of us blinking for a solid minute as we sussed each other out. His expression barely changed, but the boredom in his eyes turned into determination. “... Well, you're definitely not a frat boy. So I'll make you a deal; you may report back that he has permission to come say hi. If he doesn't choose to, that's the end of this little charade. And if either of them” I gestured to the one sitting at my table; “comes back over here, I start stabbing. Got it?”

The boy nodded once, and I thought I saw a ghost of a smirk. “You have my word.” He dragged the other man out of the chair by his shirt, pulling him stumbling toward their table. That was when I saw him. The only person at their table who hadn't come over yet. Even hunched over the table he was enormous, probably close to six feet tall; exactly the kind of man I typically avoided. The kid spoke sharply, pointing in my direction, and his head shot up to look in my direction. Even from across the spacious patio, I could see his face turning red. The obnoxious, cocky smirk I was expecting to see was entirely missing; instead he seemed almost confused.

Headphones back on but turned off so I could hear if he approached, I returned to my book. But I only got through a few pages before the first one shouted; “and offer to get her another coffee or something!”

I looked over to see the tall one frozen halfway between our tables, a look on his face like he was considering jumping over the patio fence to get away. His demeanor reminded me of a lost puppy, and I couldn't help the chuckle that rose up out of my throat. I bookmarked my page, set the book aside, and slid my headphones down around my neck. I really thought he was about to bolt until I lifted one hand, curling my fingers to gesture for him to continue toward me.

He stopped short by a good several feet, eyeing the distance between himself and the chair, and took one extra step back. It seemed as if he was hyper aware of just how much he loomed over me; the way he stood was like he was trying to will himself to be smaller, and he kept his hands at his sides. “Um … hi. … Sorry, this is … this is really weird …”

I nodded, watching him. “It is a bit. … Todd, was it?”

“Jay… Jason.”

“Not Todd?”

“Jason Todd. Damian calls me Todd, he thinks using people's last names keeps them at an arm's length…” Jason Todd. The name felt familiar, but I couldn't place why. He continued to ramble about how important tone was in determining whether this Damian kid was referring to you with affection or disdain, and I watched him. He was admittedly very cute; he had a sort of a bad boy aesthetic -leather jacket, dark clothes, a white streak in his hair, some unusual scars on his face and arms-, which juxtaposed interestingly with the gentleness in his voice, bright eyes, and awkward mannerisms. That was actually the thing that made the most sense about this situation; bikers are often secret teddy bears.

“... Jason?”

He looked up at me, one hand sheepishly making its way into his hair. “Yeah, sorry, you want me to go. I'll get them to stop harassing you, so sorry-”

“Actually, I was going to say you don't have to stand the whole time.” I gestured to the chair across from me.

He hesitated, watching me. “... Y- you don't want me to go?”

I smiled softly and shook my head. “Sit?”

He quickly obeyed, a hesitant smile on his face, which was almost immediately hidden by his hand when his brothers whooped from their table. “... God, I'm so sorry … th- they mean well, really, they're not trying to be weird …”

I laughed softly, “it's fine, that's what siblings do, right?”

“... I guess so … I've been sort of … away for a while, but I guess this is pretty standard sibling behavior. … Right?”

“I mean, a little more insistent than mine, but not too far outside the realm of what I’d consider normal.” I shrugged, finishing my chai latte.

He smiled slightly, considering that. “... Hm … um … c- can I get you another?” He gestured to my cup.

“... Sure, I've got time.”

The pleased grin on his face as he looked away to flag down a server surprised me. Then again, everything about him was surprising. Still, no one had ever looked at me quite like that before… 

The server sauntered over, clearly curious about my new companion. Jason smiled brightly; “Hi, can we get another for the lady? And I'll have a medium black coffee, sweet, please.”

Huh. He called me a ‘lady’. Not a girl, or a chick, a lady. That was … also surprising. We chatted for a little while, sipping our coffees, and tried to ignore his staring brothers. He was incredibly awkward, in a sweet, endearing way. I got the impression that he wasn't fully comfortable, but chalked it up to how weirdly this all started. After a while, the first one returned, a small grimace on his face.

I raised an eyebrow; “I'm pretty sure I told the little one that the next one of you to come over was getting stabbed.”

“I know, I know! I'm so sorry, but Jay, we gotta go. Bruce texted…”

That was when it clicked; why I knew the name Jason Todd. He was a Wayne … his death had dominated the news cycle for a week. His miraculous, frankly poorly explained, return was the story for at least two.

He looked, torn, between me and his brother. “Oh … um …”

The man I finally recognized as Dick Grayson leaned forward and fake-whispered, “the words you're looking for are ‘can I have your phone number'?”

Jason swatted him away, blushing bright red; “Seriously, Dick? … well, can I-”

His ears were turning red as I held my hand out for his phone. I added my contact info and, feeling unusually bold, I added ☕💖 after my name while Jason dropped a couple of bills on the table; I smiled a bit, realizing he was leaving enough to cover my first drink for me too. I passed his phone back, enjoying the look of wonder on his face when he checked the screen. The way he whispered my name, like a prayer meant only for god's ears, had my stomach doing backflips.

“thanks … I'll call you?”

“Sounds good. I'm a night owl, so not too early, yeah?”

He nodded eagerly. “Not too early, promise.”

Next ->

[ckret2]

Chapter 64 of human Bill Cipher being 50% the prisoner & 50% the weird guest of the Mystery Shack:

Soos makes a deeply significant moral decision. To redecorate!

If you're seeing this picture, it's because I either didn't have enough time to draw a better one before the queue spat out this chapter, or I decided that nothing else I could draw would be half as funny.

####

Whenever Soos faced something difficult, he talked to Abuelita. And Bill was nothing if not something difficult.

Soos laid out the situation to her in the living room as she watched her telenovelas—she didn't mind the distraction, she far preferred real life drama over anything they put on TV. He told her about the confiscated canes, the daily injuries, the bargaining for food, the threat of forced showers, the bruises and burns and blood Bill said nothing about. He told her about Bill's door trick and how he'd only used it to talk to a teen about life and tuck a kid into bed. Once he'd told Abuelita all his thoughts, she nodded slowly, eyes still fixed to the TV screen; and for the moment, said nothing.

The doctor on TV confirmed the tearful new mother's suspicions that her husband had cheated (DNA tests confirmed the baby was another woman's), and Abuelita muted the show as it went to a commercial break. Soos waited as she collected her thoughts to render her judgment.

"I have been talking to Mr. Cipher for the last month or so. He keeps me company while I cook so I do not poison him again," she said. "I think he is ruthless, manipulative, and self-centered."

Soos winced, but nodded. "That's true."

Abuelita went on, "I like him. He is self-confident. He's blunt in a way you only get when you're old and cynical. I think he is a bad person; but, many bad people are good company."

"That's also true." Soos nodded again thoughtfully. Like whenever a comic book had a young idealistic superhero team up with an old jaded ex-villain who played by his own rules, and they ended up best friends, in spite of their glaring ethical and political differences.

"But, more importantly than whether he is a good person or a bad person," Abuelita said, "he is a person. And if you do not like a person, there are three ways you can deal with him." She counted off on her fingers, "You can kill him; you can avoid him; or you can set your feelings aside, and treat him with decency. Yes, get rid of the people who are bad for you—but no matter how terrible a person is, you must treat him like a person."

Soos's eyes lit up. "Oh, like with grandpa!"

Abuelita nodded slowly. "Yes. Just like grandpa."

"Yeah but—what if treating him decently is, you know... dangerous? Like if he uses any privileges we give him to do bad stuff? The Pines think he will. And I think he might be secretly talking to his cultists or whatever? Who miiight wanna destroy the world? But what if they can't destroy the world actually, and if I tell about the people he's talking to, he gets treated even worse..."

"Without his devil powers, he couldn't destroy a bookclub," Abuelita said. "But, if he is so dangerous, are you going to kill him?"

"No. I actually don't think we can anymore?"

"Are you going to avoid him?"

Soos let out a heavy sigh. "I can't as long as he lives here."

Abuelita shrugged, as if to say there you have it. "You are a good, kind man, mijo. I am sure you will figure out the right thing to do."

####

He took Melody out for lunch. They went through a drive-thru so they could park and talk privately in the truck.

She took a firmer stance on it than Abuelita. "I do not want to be stuck with Bill forever," she said. "I could put up with it this long because I thought the Pines would get rid of him as soon as possible! Now that he's staying here indefinitely...?" She shook her head. "I really don't like it, Soos."

Soos wasn't surprised. "Do... you think they should have 'gotten rid' of him?"

Melody paused, then shook her head again. "This whole thing is such a bizarre situation. Like, I can get why it makes sense to execute the guy that can end the world, but... I just don't think that's a decision two random guys with a big gun should be allowed to make," she said. "Honestly? I think we should call some federal agency and put him in jail somewhere. You know I've been iffy on Ford's 'only we can contain Bill' thing from the start."

"Yeah. I know." Soos agreed with Ford—he was the Bill expert, he would know—but he couldn't say Melody was wrong, either.

"Our wedding's scheduled for the end of summer," Melody said. "And... I'm sorry, Soos, but I just can't live under the same roof as the guy that turned me into a statue. We'll still get married—"

"—Oh, phew, almost had a heart attack there—"

"—pff, sorry. But if Bill's still in the shack after the summer, then... then I'll keep staying with my aunt, or we could move into your old house and just visit the shack for work, or something... but I can't move into the shack permanently until he moves out."

"Okay. I accept that." Even if the rest of them had sorta gotten used to living with Bill, Soos thought not wanting to live with a former torturer/conqueror/dictator was a pretty reasonable boundary. "I dunno what we'll do long-term just yet, but—we'll decide on something before the wedding."

Melody let out a long, nervous sigh. "Okay," she said. "Okay. Thanks, Soos." She reached across the truck's center console.

Soos took her hand. "But, how do you think we should handle Bill until then?"

Melody stared out the window at the gray sky. The rain had dried up before dawn, but the sky was still hazy. "If we keep guarding him ourselves instead of getting law enforcement involved... personally? I wouldn't give him any kind of special treatment at all. He tried to end the world! He stuck the whole town in a throne! He can just keep sleeping on the floor and being miserable, and I'd be fine with it."

Soos winced. "I see."

Melody squeezed his hand. "But—the fact that you're kinder than that is one of the things I love about you. Even when the creep you're being kind to doesn't deserve it." She gave him a resigned smile. "Do whatever you feel is right."

He considered that. Then he nodded. "I will."

####

Bill kept Soos's Abuelita company while she cooked, and gossiped with her in Spanish better than Soos's about people Bill had never even met. Bill liked watching cartoons, sports where people got hurt, and weirdly intellectual movies Soos didn't get, and he heckled historical documentaries and the news. Bill was offended by white rice and had incredibly strong opinions about salsas for a guy who'd only started eating them a month ago. Bill hadn't taken his friendship bracelet off once since Mabel gave it to him. Bill might not have been a human; but he was a person.

It was high time they start treating him like one.

####

Soos came home late in the afternoon with his truck laden down with supplies. Stan's car was gone, and when Soos came in with an armload of wooden boards he didn't see anybody around except Abuelita, napping in the living room, and Dipper, laying on the living room floor watching TV. "Hey dude," Soos whispered. "Where's everybody else?"

Dipper whispered back, "Hey Soos. Stan and Ford are at McGucket's mansion." He didn't look up from the TV. He was watching a rerun of Ghost Harassers on mute. "Mabel's with Bill in the floor room. He's in a bad mood about something so they've been doing karaoke all day."

"Huh." Soos could faintly hear someone playing his electric piano. It sounded like it was on the organ setting. "I didn't know he plays piano."

"He's alright," Dipper said. "His singing's terrible, though."

Soos shuddered. He could imagine.

Well, at least it meant Bill was out of the way. Soos began his first of many trips upstairs.

####

"What's all this racket?" Stan trudged upstairs to inspect Soos's noises—and abruptly stopped at the top of the stairs as he almost ran into a wooden beam. "What the—?"

"Oh, hey Mr. Pines!" Soos hooked his hammer on his tool belt. He'd put up wall framing to section off the corner of the attic floor that included the window seat.

Stan circled around the framing, inspecting it in bafflement. "Soos, what the heck is this?"

"So, remember at the beginning of summer, when I said that me and Melody were thinking about putting in a gaming room-slash-guest room in the attic? And Ford said not to bother until Bill was gone because he wouldn't be here long enough for me to finish? Welp! Sounds like he's gonna be here long enough for me to finish now! So I thought, hey, might as well, right? No reason not to!" He shrugged. "By the way, do you think I should put the door in front of the stairs, or on the long side of the room opposite the window? If it's in front of the stairs, you can just walk right in the room when you come up, and we'd be able to put a big screen on the long wall; but when you're walking out of the room it'd be really easy to forget the stairs are there and fall, and uh, we already have enough of a problem with that—"

Stan finally got his dropped jaw working again. "But this is where the demon sleeps! Where are we supposed to put him now?!"

"Oh, it's fine! Bill can keep sleeping in here. I'll put up a curtain instead of a door for now. This way the room's ready for gaming once Bill's gone." Soos planted his hands on his hips and surveyed his handiwork with pride.

"Are you crazy? You're giving Bill his own room?! No way! He could do anything in private. We can't trust him with that—"

"Listen." Soos gave Stan a serious look. "Mr. Pines, I respect you, and I love you like the dad I never had except technically I do have a dad but he's off being a deadbeat in Florida or something so he doesn't count."

He pointed at the floor. "But this is my house now. My name might not be on the deed, but my butt is in the master bedroom! And nobody under my roof is living like—like—like some kind of starving hobo sleeping on a bench under a newspaper, you know what I'm talking about? The Mystery Shack is a happy place! Where people come to see dreams come true and have their imaginations expanded! And I won't see it turned into some sad one-man prison!"

Stan stared at Soos, speechless.

"So." Soos took a deep breath. "With all due respect—I'm building a gaming room, and it'll have walls, and Bill gets to sleep in it. Because he's a person! And we're gonna treat him like one!"

Stan slowly looked from Soos to the wall framing, to the boxes of supplies he'd bought for the room and pushed against a wall to wait—to the pathetic couch cushion bed still sitting on the floor in front of the window. "All right. That's—that's fine. I'll let Ford know."

Soos's shoulders relaxed. "Thanks, Mr. Pines."

Stan clapped a hand on Soos's shoulder; looked for a moment like he wanted to say something; then just shook his head and said instead, "Knock off the hammering before the kids go to bed, all right?"

"No problem! I've gotta set up some furniture and stuff in here anyway." He got back to work as Stan went downstairs.

####

Soos paused his work when he overheard Bill's voice: "Hey Stanford. Figured out the kitchen situation yet?"

Soos had to strain to hear Ford (jeez, Bill was loud) as he said, "We haven't had a chance yet. For now, we can at least leave one of the counter cabinets open."

"Huh." It didn't sound like an impressed huh. "And will this open cabinet have any of the foods you put in the cabinet to hide from me? Or just more of the junk I've already been scavenging."

Ford was silent long enough to provide the answer.

"Right."

"I went by the grocery store," Ford offered. "I got avocados."

"Uh huh."

"And several pepper varieties."

"Ooh." Bill sounded intrigued in spite of himself.

"And protein drinks. They're nutritious, at least," Ford said. "But—I know that's not adequate. Stan and I will have something permanent figured out by the end of the week."

"I guess it's fine as an emergency measure," Bill said, "but you know how the phrase goes! Give a triangle a protein drink, and it'll eat for a day. Teach a triangle to open the fridge, and it'll eat for the rest of its life. If you lift that curse..."

"We'll talk. But don't get your hopes up. Neither of us likes the thought of giving you the power to come in our bedroom and smother us in our sleep the next time we have an argument."

"Fine." Bill's voice had hardened again. "You've got to the end of the week. But don't forget! If I don't like your offer, I don't have to take it! You can't keep me in this rickety barn anymore."

"I haven't forgotten."

The conversation seemed to be over and Soos didn't hear anyone coming up the stairs. He got back to work.

He felt good. He was doing the right thing.

####

When Mabel came up to bed, she stared in confusion at the modified attic floor, squealed in excitement when she realized what she was looking at, surprised Soos with a hug, and gushed about how great it was; and then she let Soos know Dipper and Ford were out tonight investigating weird stuff and went on to bed herself.

The first notification Soos had that Bill had come upstairs was a flat, offended, "What."

"Oh, hey!" Soos ducked out of the opening he'd left for the doorway—which he'd ultimately decided to put straight across from the window, to let a little light back into the attic. (He'd have to add more lighting in the main attic now that the window was blocked off.) Bill was standing at the corner of the new room, surveying the work with an expression of deep suspicion.

Soos said, "I was just getting started on this gaming room Melody and me wanted to put in—it's okay though, you can keep using it, we'll just turn it into a gaming room, uhhh... lllater. Whenever, it's cool!"

Bill turned his suspicious look on Soos; but when Soos gestured for Bill to follow him into the room, he reluctantly followed.

"Yeah, I got up the framing," Soos said, "but I couldn't get to the drywall today, so I just stapled up some tarps to be walls for now. But, look!" He gestured grandly. "I brought up the old orange sofa and chaise thingy that used to be in Abuelita's room! They've been in storage for like a year. I bet we could sit, like, six people on it for game nights. It turns out the sofa's a daybed, so we can use it as an extra guest bed for visitors, we do not have enough beds for visitors in the shack, haha. And, check it—" Soos flipped up the lid on a chest he'd placed in front of the right end of the sofa like a footrest. "I put in one of those top-down chest fridges for gaming snacks! It uh, the top of it swings up, that makes it a lid instead of a door, right? Sooo I guess you can use it too, right? You can just, put whatever you want on the weekly grocery list, and we'll put it in here. Oh, and!" He pointed at the ancient TV console table he'd hauled up from the cellar, "I set up a hot plate here, too! So you can cook stuff in the attic! For—for normal legitimate gaming room purposes."

Bill's gaze followed where Soos pointed, from the ancient orange sofa to the fridge chest to the hot plate. He didn't say anything. His expression was completely unreadable.

Soos swallowed. "Oh, and, by the way, speaking of home improvements, I took out the doorknob on the main bathroom, and put in one of those, like, little slidy dealies like public bathroom stalls? Plus I gave the door those swinging hinges—like the kind on saloon doors in the movies, o-or, say, the door into the gift shop—"

Bill whipped around to face Soos.

Soos jumped. He laughed nervously and tried to remember what point he was making. "S-so, um... there's no latch now, so it doesn't latch, which means there's no way to accidentally get locked in—or out, of the bathroom, and... and I don't actually know how much of that you understood, due to the whole curse thing? Just forget everything I just said, I guess, the important thing is you can use that bathroom without asking someone else now! Cool, right?"

He had to turn away from Bill's intense gaze, pointing back at the gaming room's doorway. "Anyway since the room isn't finished yet and you're probably gonna use it for a while, I hung up a curtain instead of a door. And I added that cool zodiac spell blanket thing Mabel gave me inside the curtain! Since you said you liked it so much when you first got here. And like... having it in our room kinda creeps Melody out, I think it might be giving her nightmares? So I thought you might like it better. Anyway I've still gotta do some other stuff, like add power outlets in here, and air conditioning, and... a-and..." He petered out weakly.

Bill was giving Soos the most venomous look he'd ever seen. 

"Sure. Terrific." Bill crossed his arms, seething. "I've slept on the floor, I can cope with sleeping in the middle of a construction zone too. No big deal! I'll make do."

"Oh," Soos said. "Uh... if it bothers you, I could try to get the walls finished tomorrow? Shack's closed tomorrow too, so, I was already planning to keep—"

Teeth grit, Bill snarled, "Don't put yourself out on my behalf."

Soos froze. "Oookay! Uh... well, I'll be getting ready for bed if you need... yeah, no, you—you probably don't need anything. Bye." He ducked out into the attic, letting out a whoosh of a sigh as soon as the curtain swung shut behind him.

Bill had looked like he was two seconds from ripping out Soos's throat. Why? Had he liked sleeping on the floor? He'd never seemed like he had. Maybe he'd preferred the attic's open flooring? Maybe he hated extremely 70's orange upholstery? Was this a mistake...?

Bill watched through the tarp until Soos was down the stairs. Then he lunged over the sofa, hanging over the back by his waist, to reach the attic window seat. He groped for the corner of the seat cushion where he'd hidden Journal 4.

He sighed in relief when he felt the familiar rectangular block in the cushion. He pulled it free: there was Journal 4, along with his two stubby crayons. As well as two marker pens, black and red, with a sticky note wrapped around them that said, "Thought these might be useful, dude!"

Bill's hands trembled with fury.

####

Soos was brushing his teeth when someone pounded on the bathroom door, making him drop his brush. The door swung open a couple of inches; Soos heard Bill mutter a confused, "What?" before it swung shut again.

Soos opened the door. "Bill? What's..."

Bill's face was completely flushed. It was hauntingly reminiscent of the look he'd had last year right before trying to murder Soos and the kids in Stan's mind. His rage had shot past "apoplectic" and landed on "apocalyptic." Soos understood how Pompeii had felt when the rumbling began. He took a few steps back.

Bill stalked into the bathroom.

He slapped the red pen down on the counter.

And, avoiding eye contact, he muttered, "Fine-tip yellow highlighter would be better. If you've got it."

"Oh," Soos said. "Sure, I... I think I have some skinny highlighters in my office. Just... lemme finish brushing my teeth."

####

Bill leaned in the office doorway, arms crossed tight, waiting. As Soos rummaged through his desk supplies, back to the door, he got the uneasy feeling that maybe Bill had lured him here to stab him in the back or something. He seemed mad enough. And the office was narrow; if Bill came up right behind him, there'd be nowhere for Soos to dodge...

When he found a new highlighter and turned around, Bill was glowering inches behind him.

Soos jumped. "Dude! You freaked me out."

Bill didn't condescend to respond. He just snatched the highlighter out of Soos's hand and stormed from the room. A moment later, Soos could hear him stomping up the stairs (and stumbling on one step. Soos really needed to figure out how to make the stairs more safe). 

For the life of him, Soos didn't know how he'd offended Bill.

####

The contraband supplies Bill had hidden behind a loose board in the wall still appeared to be undisturbed. He could only hope Soos hadn't found them during his snooping. For tonight, he could hide Journal 4 there; tomorrow he'd have to find a new, more secure hiding spot that kept it close enough to where Bill slept.

He turned around the hanging zodiac blanket and curtain so Bill's watchful triangular face was guarding the new attic hallway rather than staring into the room.

He surveyed his atrocious new sofa. If he'd known he would be plagued with this thing in the future, he would have found a way to make Ford get rid of it thirty years ago. Would Ford have thrown it out if his blessed Muse had told him it looked hideous? Maybe, but that would've put a ding in Bill's benevolent image. He could've said the sofa would lead Ford to doom? No, too implausible. Ford had always wanted a nice set of leather furniture; maybe if Bill had claimed the cost of leather furniture was about to skyrocket, and if Ford ever wanted to build his dream sophisticated gentleman's den then he should buy as soon as possible—maybe sell his current sofa to recoup costs and free up space... Yeah, Ford would've eaten that up, he'd have been so grateful Bill was thoughtful enough to care about his silly little life dreams and look out for his financial future. He shoulda done that. Hindsight.

So. What did he have here? A daybed; personal fridge; mini-stove; walls (tarp); two pillows; throw blanket; two markers; a lamp (unplugged); a clock radio (unplugged); a low console table with two shelves, onto which Soos had emptied the contents of Bill's cardboard box of clothes; and an implicit promise to keep a pile of secrets.

How humiliating.

He considered sleeping on the bare floor in protest; but, his back still hurt. Once again, subject to the tyranny of an organic body. He sighed, pulled his bedsheet from the console table, and curled up on the sofa.

The moment he lay down, a scent soaked into the seat cushion made his heart leap into his throat. He was sure he could smell home. Familiar and comforting and right—and for a moment the evidence of his other six senses didn't matter: he had his power back, he was in his kingdom, and all was right with the world. It took a moment to figure out what about the scent had so strongly disoriented him: he was smelling the atmosphere of the Nightmare Realm.

And then took another moment to work out that it wasn't really the Nightmare Realm, but a very similar scent—sulfurous, organic, burning. Burnt hair.

The cushion still smelled like Ford.

Bill groaned in frustration, rolled off the sofa, and flopped to the floor.

After permitting himself a moment of rage at the injustices of the multiverse, Bill crawled up onto the chaise lounge on the left end of the sofa, avoiding the part of the sofa where Ford used to sleep.

The chaise was smaller than his floor cushion bed used to be; but he'd make do.

####

(I know we're all busy going insane over the website but i'd love a comment when y'all read this chapter lol)

[soapyghostie]

hii ^_^ can you do slasher hcs, can be anyone you choose, with a child!Reader (platonic ofc) suddenly saying a bad word infront of them? Lol idk i just thought that it would be a funny scenario, you dont have to do it if u dont want to btw :3 have a nice day!

Since this was a free-bee, I took the chance to write for a couple slashers I haven’t gotten a chance to write for yet. One of them is one I’ve written for multiple times already, but I know how y'all are and that Michael Myers content. Y’all will eat that shit up. Well anyway, enjoy!

Charles ‘Chucky’ Lee Ray

Chucky, known for his foul-mouthed and sarcastic personality, would most definitely burst into a fit of maniacal laughter upon hearing the inappropriate language that just came out of your mouth. He finds the situation very amusing, secretly proud of your choice of words. He used to think you were a deadbeat child, but it seems you are starting to take after him in terms of mischief and a devil-may-care attitude. Maybe he’ll give you a shot.

He’d playfully scold you for stealing the spotlight, jokingly reminding you that he’s the only one allowed to say those kinds of words while giving you a wink. He’s pretending to act like a normal parent would if their child cursed so Tiffany doesn’t throw dishes at his head again for god knows what he did beforehand. Anyways, besides the friendly reminder to be careful about where and when to use foul language, Chucky feels a sense of camaraderie in their rebellious spirit that he’s never expressed before. Is this care and kindness he feels? It can’t be! He’s an evil serial killer with no feelings for anyone! Just between you and me, he did care about you in his own way from the beginning. He just hates to admit it and ignored the feeling for a long time. 

Chucky giving you lessons in creative cursing is a must: in a private setting of course. He doesn’t want to have to deal with Tiffany’s scolding about encouraging and, even worse, teaching you such bad behavior. However, if the language goes too far (cursing Tiffany out), Chucky will actually draw a line and sternly explain the importance of knowing when and where such language is appropriate.

Stu Macher

Stu, being the laid-back and humorous person he is, most likely burst out into a fit of laughter initially, thinking it’s just a child’s innocent mistake. However, he’s taken aback. He was not expecting to hear such foul language come out of your mouth and especially wasn’t ready for it since he’s normally making the crude jokes himself rather than hearing it from a child. 

Stu would exchange an amused glance and playfully scold you, reminding you that it’s not appropriate to use such language, especially in front of company. However, Stu may share a few inappropriate jokes of his own, trying to bond with you through your humor. God dammit Stu! Don’t be a bad influence like Chucky is! 

If you continue to use inappropriate language, Stu will employ a more serious tone and discuss the consequences of your behavior. If you don’t listen to him after that (I don’t know how you could not because Stu never serious), Stu will probably be like, “Well what the fuck! Who cares?” and will join in and playfully participate with you. 

Michael Myers

Michael would remain expressionless and unreactive to hearing you say the inappropriate word. He will convey his disapproval through his body language though, such as a stern gaze or a slow shake of his head. You pick up on these cues, going from comical and bright to eerie and uncomfortable, understanding that your words are unacceptable.

Michael does expect immediate compliance, and you are expected to correct your behavior under his imposing presence. In rare cases, Michael will intervene if your behavior becomes continuous and punish you, such as grounding you or giving you a whoopin, to teach you a lesson about the consequences of your behavior. 

Once Michael decides you’ve been punished long enough, if you got the ‘your grounded to your room’ punishment, he’ll make his way to your room and have a conversation with you to instill the importance of respectful behavior. You two end up having a good talk, ending with you promising to use more appropriate language from here on out and Michael promising to get you a tub of ice cream on his next outing if you have good behavior.

[dunmeshistash]

What do you think about Shuro? And more specifically his relationship with Laios, and idk if you talk about ships but what are your thoughts on laishuro

I have this headcannon that Laios has some sort of unrequited crush on Shuro just because it's sorta funny

I ship pretty much everything. Like, as default I think everyone should kiss everyone 👍

If I'm honest I'm not much of a Shuro fan, he's a little boring to me and reactions to the chimera episode made me dislike him a bit lmao.

Ignoring the fandom I like him as a character and I LOVE his fight with Laios. Shuro's relationship to Laios is my favorite part of that character so laishuro pretty much saves him for me.

In universe Shuro is said to be quite the introvert even for people from his country. He's not the standard for someone from the eastern archipelago and it bothered me a bit when people used that to justify how he wasn't honest to Laios. I understand the idea that he comes from somewhere where reading social cues is not only expected but required but he's also someone who avoids confrontation and is quiet/shy in general.

Here's a bit from Maizuru's description from the adventurer's bible

"People tend to describe Shuro as "drab" and "shy" (...)" so specifically HE IS the exact type of person who would cause the biggest misunderstanding with Laios, just compare him to how his retainers or even his father and brothers act.

It took them saying they used ancient magic on Falin/seeing chimera Falin for him to finally snap, everything else he decided to just take it cause he thought it was better to take it than to confront Laios directly.

So besides the cultural differences you have to take into consideration this was pretty much the perfect storm brewing for that confrontation, and it's as much who Shuro is as a person and who Laios is as person that caused it.

I also disagree that the fight was a "they're both in the wrong" situation. Don't get me wrong, Laios was VERY culturally insensitive to Shuro and even more insensitive to his feelings, but there was nothing he could have done differently with the information that was available to him.

Specifically I see this comic being used to justify how Laios was to blame too, making Shuro into the victim

Like that's a major white guy move but he DIDN'T HEAR Shuro's name and Shuro never corrected him. I'd understand it if his reaction was "Your name is too complicated so I'll call you Shuro instead" that would be a major dick move, but Laios did not hear his name because Toshiro mumbled it, and for someone that forgot Kabru's name several times I imagine he made an effort to remember Shuro's.

Laios never met someone from the eastern archipelago before this, nobody ever explained to him he wasn't acting in an appropriate manner and most of all he thought they were friends. He trusted Shuro to set boundaries for him, he always respects boundaries that are set even when he doesn't fully understand them (Recalling the "I forgot about feelings.." when Chilchuck says it feels wrong to eat merman)

Instead of explaining ANYTHING to Laios, Shuro instead held it all in until it exploded all at once, he blamed Laios for not knowing something he couldn't know, and accused him of not being serious about saving his own sister.

Just imagine how this must have felt for Laios, everyone is always underestimating how serious he is, everyone accuses him of being stupid, clueless, and now this guy is telling him he isn't serious about saving the person he loves the most in the world and wants to protect always. To me this wasn't a "they're both in the wrong" situation, Shuro is far more in the wrong than Laios. But that's just how I see it.

That all being said, they understood each other finally and made peace after that fight.

And several times after this we see that Shuro really cares for Laios, and Laios still wants to be his friend. He even offered to save Laios if he fails (and he's sure he's gonna fail). So their relationship is dear to me, especially cause after this they finally have the foundation for a true mutual friendship <3

I think my dislike of Shuro comes from relating to him to be honest, it happens often that I see my own failures on a character and get angry at them for being angry at myself lmao. I also got a little annoyed cause I only saw people defending him, apparently those were made as a response to hate he had gotten? But since I never actually seen the hate it just felt annoying to see Shuro being white knighted.

Anyway I love the two of them together and I'm really happy they finally understood each other better. laishuro might be my favorite Laios ship, one sided crushes are great.

[prettyboypistol]

How the TF2 Mercs De-stress/Manage Anger

Scout

Actually a stereotypical movie bad boy about it. Cigarette, batting cage, and punching bags his emotions out. Shouts at people and shoves them out of his way, throat closed up in welled up emotions, his lungs refusing to give him air as the tightness of slamming against the metaphorical wall of frustration feels like it kills him inside. You know what? Being so tired you can barely register the world around? It's better than feeling like an elephant trapped in a jam jar.

Soldier

Works out and represses the expressions unless he's in battle. That's actually where he gets most of his energy. He thinks of all the shit that pissed him off or made him feel small and uses that flicker of rage as the start of the firecracker of a soldier on the field. Doesn't talk about his emotions much and doesn't see any need to. Yeah, a few drinks in and he gets sappy, but that's normal. Anger usually gets metal pipes bent or people's faces bashed in. Usually both.

Pyro

Expresses anger and stress as overexcitabiliy and hyperactivity. A constant overstimulation mode. Referencing the comics, Pyro won't hesitate to kill a bitch knowingly if they are pissed off. They're the reason it's called a "crime of passion". High spikes of anger followed by a low simmer of calmness. Actually pretty good about deep breaths when it comes to mild annoyances or daily stress, but the over the top bullshit absolutely gets an over the top reaction.

Heavy

Intimidation and powerplay is the name of Heavy's game. Sharp glares and a clear body message of "I will snap your spine if you breathe near me." This comes from his time in the gulag, when he had to keep himself and his family safe. Looking murderous when upset had a lot of advantages. When it actually comes to relieving the anger, he's an isolationist. Def thinks over the situation over and over again as he distracts himself with one of his hobbies. Usually not reading because his mind wanders off too much to focus on the pages.

Engineer

Hyperactive workaholic. He locks himself in his workshop and doesn't leave until he makes something either revolutionary or a man made horror you could only fathom in your nightmares. Whatever, he can sell it to the Administrator as a torture device. Who cares. Engie isn't much of a talker so much as he is a ranter. He grumbles and shouts to himself in a one way conversation as he tightens that one bolt that gave him trouble. Only once has he dented one of his sentries with his wrench when the energy was too much to comprehend.

Demoman

As is his usual solution, he drinks. He drinks and he talks. It doesn't matter to who or even if people are with him. Talking and bitching helps him to understand the situation, get his feelings validated, and develop more points of view. If that doesn't work, there's always testing his explosives. That release of emotions as he watches the burn pile explode is cathartic in a way. Pyro usually joins in and watches the fire, giving Demo someone to talk to.

Sniper

Also an isolationist, but you couldn't tell either way unless you pissed him off while talking to him. If it's just him, then you wouldn't even know that motherfucker was milliseconds away from starting a fight. Mutters to himself softly, barely able to hear the words himself as he shoots at sodacans and empty food containers all lined up by his van. Long drives while music plays in the background is one of his guilty pleasures when he can get away with it. If you ask what's bothering him he'll have a 50/50 between shrugging and saying a dismissive "it's nothing, just woke up wrong" or will barely explain it, but get the just of it accurately.

Spy

Tries to work through it physically, not emotionally. Man's has never talked about his emotions in his life and you won't make him start now. Usually very bitchy when something pisses him off, and his weapon of choice is personal insults. It's a funny thing really. He needs to feel superior by putting others down because the anger and stress makes him feel weak. There is only one good way to snap him out of a bad mood: casually praise him. "Nice work, Spy." "I knew I could count on you." "Thanks Spy, you're a lifesaver." Are instant soothers. It's nice to be acknowledged.

Medic

Workaholic worse than Engie. This man is really out here about to create an elderitch horror because he stubbed his toe and spilled his coffee. Strained smiles and snide comments are his language when he's had a bad day. If someone directly irritates him, that man is a solid 6'1 minimum and is built. He will and continue to physically intimidate people. Has violent fantasies as a cope.

[tinydefector]

Ok ok i thought about this and for me it's sounds funny.

Sooo on the comic where everyone just found out that Rung is god you know where Rodimus, Rachet, Whirl and Tyrest and others having existing crisis and the part where Whirl said "God was my therapist" and then I thought about it, how funny it would be if cybertronian or human MC/reader said something like "I was fuck by said God" like if said cybertronian/human was in relationship with Rung and everyone reaction (plus Tyrest too since I think he's a god fanatic) 😂😂😂😂

XD omg so I had a bit of a joke piece about fucking God over in this fic. But it gets even better that thought of Tyrest being a God fanatic and hating Organics. The horror when he finds out Primus is with a human, watch this mech just break down.

Everyone's optics and eyes are on Rung, and the mech stands there wishing attention wasn't on him. Rodimus paces back and forth, Ratchet just stares off into a wall wish above all he wasn't here right now. Whirl, for the first time, is so quiet that it makes everyone so uncomfortable. And then there was the human just looking up at Rung in shock, dismay? They really didn't know how they felt in that moment.

Rodimus finally speaks. "OK, ok, but how the Frag!, Your Primus! All this time, you have just been what? Hiding on cybertron, having a vacation!" He asked. He was bitter about this, as much as he wanted to blame Rung for everything, cybertron falling apart, his home, and the matrix in truth it wasn't his fault. After all wasn't he doing the exact same thing, running away because he didn't want to be a prime, he wasn't suited for it, he didn't want to live in Optimus' shadow and have that shame over him. He'd take being co captain with Megatron over having to be in Optimus' shadow any cycle.

Ratchet, on the other hand, just wants a strong drink. He had never been a believe in gods, yet here he was finding out the the mech who had been the Lost Light's therapist, had been a neutral throughout the war, had a space ship collection older then some mechs was Primus. It was just his luck. "Does anyone else know?" He asked, trying to be the level-headed one of the group.

Rung removes his glasses, and the stress and exhaustion are very visible on his faceplate. "Drift, I believe, he's, he's always suspected something," Rung explains. He wasn't sure, but he's rather sure that Drift knows what he is.

Whirl finally laughs. "This is Fragged. How in the Pit did I end up this fragging, unlucky that my slagging therapist is Fragging Primus!" They shout, they don't know if they are angry, hurt or just overwhelmed, so much had been fried in their circuitry after the Emputra but this, this felt like a sick joke. All the things he had told Rung now feel like they were confessions.

Tyrest is baffled. He doesn't know whether to fall to his knees or call blasphemy, but the evidence is right there in front of his optics.

Rung is sheepish as he looks to the human. He's hoping they don't hate him. "I know this is alot for you all to take in, I'm sorry you all had to find out this way, I'm sincerely sorry for everything that has happened" He calls out to the group. He goes to continue only to be cut off.

"Fuck my life, Swerve is never going to let me live this down" the human stammers out. Everyone's optics are on them, a flush tints Rungs plating. "Please we don't need to bring that-" He's cut off again.

"The fact that I've unknowingly been getting Railed by Primus!" They exclaim only for Rung to hide behind one of his servos as multiple mech's Jaws drop at those words.

"HAH, and i thought I was Fragged!" Whirl screeched, finding humour in the situation. The other mechs look just as shocked and disgusted. "No, I refuse. That's blasphemy. Please tell me you haven't been interfacing with an organic!" Tyrest almost pleaded, hoping by the all spark that it wasn't true.

Rodimus pinches his brow ridge. He could feel his processor hurting from all this information. "Slagging Pit," he grumbles. " I Owe Sunstreaker so much Shainx now," he huffs. "OK, ok. Rung's Primus, and he's fragging a human." He throws his servos up in the air, being overly dramatic.

Ratchet just glares at the two. "They both of you are to report to medical for an examination after this, You" he points right at Rung. " I have some rather choice words for you," he states before stalking off, leaving.

The human looks at the floor, and the true panic is taking over. "Oh fuck, I've been fucking an Alien God who's also my therapist" they mutter to themself, tears starting to well up in their eyes and Rung kneels down cupping their face and wiping the tears away. "I didn't mean to upset you," he says softly. Optics focused on them. " I don't want this to change anything between us. You mean a great deal to me, and I don't want to lose you," he murmurs to them, pressing a soft kiss to their forehead.

The sound of the others arguing and fighting drowns out as Rung focuses on his little lover. "I'm not angry, Rung, Primus, or whatever name you want to go by, but... but I'm a human, a random fucking human so why me. Why me? " they nearly sob as he scoops them up, pulling them against his frame.

"My dear, I'm the the holy being everyone believes I am, I'm just a very old mech, who did what he could to stop something bad from happening, alot fo the tales told are very twisted stories. I'm just a mech, I'm not some holy being. And as for why you. You were the first person to remember my name, you took an interest in my hobbies, I would have happily faded into dust unknown but you choose me" he coos softly. Digits tracing their cheeks as he looks at them in pure love.

"But an Organic!" Tyrest hisses out as he watches how sweet and tender Rung is with the human. Is Rodimus who speaks up next. "Ah ah, remember each time to talk badly about organic races you lose Shanix which goes right into my account!~" Rodimus sings out, trying to make light of the situation for his own mental stability.

"You two are fragged and Slag, and I thought I had issues!" Whirl huffs before pointing at Rung. "Not a word about our therapy session to anyone, God or not, I will end you." Whirl nearly snarls before transforming and taking off.

"But you are Primus! You could have your choice of any cybertronian, pillars in your name cities, why have you hidden for so long!" Tyrest utters, he wants to be angry, but at the same time, this was Primus. How could he.

Rung meets his optics. "Because that's not the type of mech I am, I did what I had to to stop Unicron, I got sick of people trying to put me on a pedestal, I wanted to live, live my life, to enjoy hobbies, travel, I gave up my old frame for the ability to live" he states. He wouldn't change his choices even if he had the ability to. He was content.

________

MC: "Swerve get me a strong drink!"

Swerve: "heya what got you so rilled up, partner problems? Give me all the juicy details."

MC: staring him dead in the optics. "Swerve, Rung is Primus"

Swerve: "Well, I wouldn't call him that, I mean, he must be a good frag but doubt that"

MC: "No Swerve, Rung is Primus, I've been fucking your God, why me, how did I get to this point"

Swerve: "you know what let me get you a double"

--

Rung: "this is a mess, I need to get myself a Therapist"

Swerve: "well doc tell me all your woos, I'm the closest your gonna get for therapy"

Rung: " ships having a meltdown over my past and the fact I'm with a human"

Swerve: " eh, heard worse, your squishy things your Primus"

Rung: " yes, well that's also part of the issue"

---

Whirl: "soo.... Rung huh?"

Mc: "Please, I don't want to talk about it"

Whirl: "What part, the part where you're fragging the ships Therapist or the part where your Fragging Primus."

MC: "Oh my fucking God Whirl!"

Whirl: "Ah, ah, your fucking my God not the other way round!"

---

MC: "fuck you Tyrest, you owe Rodimus more money now, from being a Xenophobe."

Tyrest: "Like, I would ever let you within five meters of my frame you disgusting little creatin. Your insults mean nothing to me. Filthy little flesh thing"

MC: " just remember it's your Beloved Primus who's fragging me!, yea!, your beloved God prefers fragging me!"

Tyrest: *the most horrified noise ever* " You take the Blastphamy Back!"

__________

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[ewingstan]

Worm and other media that won't just let you shoot the Joker, part 1:

Worm comments on the structure of stories, especially superhero stories, in some interesting ways. There's a lot of stuff that happen in superhero comics for no real reason than that it needs to happen for the story to be interesting; a huge amount of Worm's worldbuilding is devoted to taking these things and making the fact that they have to happen an explicit in-setting constraint. For instance, superhero stories tend to have more powerful heroes face off against much more powerful villains than their less-powerful allies, to the point where it seems like super-powerful threats are coming to earth every few weeks just because it wouldn't be interesting to read that comic otherwise. It gets weirder when you compare what villains end up visiting the cities of uber-powerful heroes vs the cities of less powerful heroes: Gotham mostly just has to deal with serial killers while Metropolis is a magnet for evil gods. Worm plays with this by having the Endbringers exist only because the big hero needed something to fight in-text: it changes "powerful heroes need powerful villains or else it wouldn't be interesting" from a Doylist justification to a Watsonian one. Then there's the fact that so much of the horrible conflict in Earth Bet is explicitly caused by Gods making sure the powers they grant people lead to increased conflict, the fact that one of the most powerful characters does what she does because the plot path to victory says she needs to, etc.

But the big one is Jack Slash, and how he's only able to get away with his bullshit because he has plot armor as a secondary power. As WB says here, "Jack's a reconstruction of the Joker type character in the sense that you can't have such a character take such a high profile position in the setting, without having there be a cheat." The Joker and similar characters are only able to keep being relevant threats in their stories because the narrative bends to let them win and stops them from being killed. Jack Slash is only able to keep being a relevant threat because his power makes the universe bend to let him win in the same way. Not only does this make for an interesting obstacle (its almost like they're fighting an authorial mandate!), but it skewers the use of similar character's plot armor and how unrealistic and unsatisfying it makes their stories.

But wait, what does it mean for a story to be "unrealistic" in the context of superpowers? Is being unrealistic in those contexts actually a problem? For that matter, what does it mean for a narrative to bend to let someone win? Its not like there's an objective way fighting the Joker would go, which the author is deviating from by letting him survive.

[Stuff under readbelow contains spoilers fo, the movie Funny Games and the book Anybody Home?]

Maybe we could say that if characters like the Joker were real, and put in the situations they are in their stories, they would end up being killed really quickly. But is that a reasonable way to judge stories? A narrative where such a character is killed unceremoniously to satisfy a need for realism isn't any less an expression of the author's deliberate choices than a story where the character keeps showing back up to satisfy a desire for fan-favorite characters. And while Jack Slash's arcs help show why deviating from "realistic consequences" in the service of keeping a character alive can make a story exhausting and screw with an audiences' appreciation of stakes, it doesn't make a strong case against the concept of villains having plot armor in general. A story isn't necessarily worse just for being constructed to keep the villains alive—all stories are constructed, and sometimes being constructed that way makes for the best story.

That becomes more clear when you take the premise of Jack Slash as "killer who wins because the mechanics of the universe says so" and make clear just how much "the mechanics of the universe" really just means "the story". Which is how you get Peter and Paul from Funny Games.

I'd highly recommend watching Funny Games (though for the love of god check content warnings), as well as Patricia Taxxon's review of it that I'm cribbing a lot from here. But to summarize, Funny Games is a movie written and directed by Michael Haneke about a family's lakeside vacation being interrupted by the appearance of two murderous young men, who capture them in their own house and slowly torture and kill them off. At least, that's what it seems to be about initially. It marketed itself as a somewhat standard entry in the genres of torture porn and home invasion thrillers, and played itself straight as one for the majority of its runtime. But then one of the two villains of the pair, "Paul," starts talking to the audience.

It starts small: after crippling the family's father and revealing that he killed their dog, Paul has the wife look for its corpse outside. While giving her hints, he slowly turns back towards the camera and smirks, before turning back. In isolation, maybe it could be interpreted as Paul smirking at Peter, seeming to look out at the audience only because of clumsy blocking. But then it happens again. Paul tells the family, who are completely at their mercy at this point, that they're gonna bet that they'll all be dead within twelve hours. When the family refuses to take the bet, asking how they could hope to win it when he can clearly off them all whenever they wish, Paul turns towards the audience and asks "what do you think? Do you think they stand a chance? Well you're on their side aren't you. Who you betting on, eh?" The audience is being acknowledged; their role as someone invested in the story is being examined by the ones introducing the stakes.

But the biggest moment comes near the end, when the mother grabs the shotgun she's being threatened with and blasts Peter. Paul startles, grins, and then hurredly grabs a tv remote and presses rewind. The movie itself suddenly rewinds to right before the mother grabs the gun, and plays again with Paul grabbing the shotgun right before the mother reaches for it.

Its a truly incredible moment, in that its the perfect way to forcibly take away the audience's suspension of disbelief. It forces the audience to acknowledge that they're viewing a story, not something happening to a real family. After their moment of catharsis against the villains, Paul makes the confront the fact that the movie will end however the creators want it to, and if they want the villains to win they'll will regardless of how little sense it makes. Fuck you, we can go from being set in the normal world with normal rules to the villains traveling back in time with a tv remote, because a story does whatever its creators want. Haneke just decided to make that obvious in the most jarring way imaginable.

But maybe the best way to illustrate Funny Games effectiveness at this type of artful unveiling is comparing it to its less-effective imitators. I've recently finished Anybody Home?, a recently-published book by Michael J. Seidlinger. It has the conceit of being narrated by an unnamed mass-murderer, guiding a new killer in their first home invasion. I started reading it before I watched Funny Games, and even afterwards took a while to realize the unnamed narrator wasn’t just a pastiche of a Paul-like character but was actually supposed to be read as Paul himself. Seidlinger was having his book be a sort of unofficial sequel to Funny Games, narrated by its star. Once I realized, a lot of the books details suddenly clicked. The big one was the constant references to “the camera" and the idea of murder being a performance for an audience, one that needed to be fresh and original to make “the cults” enjoy it. Take these passages from page 77:

If it happened, it would perturb. It would create suspicion. It wouldn’t end up ruining the performance, and yet, it could have derailed our casing. The camera can have all it wants; either way, it’ll make it look better than it really was. It’ll strip away the cues and other planned orchestrations and it’ll show the action—the actuality of each scene, each suggestion…

This is a spectacle, above all. The craft pertains to keeping and maintaining a captive audience; behind the camera, you’ll never know how it happened—the trickery that made the impossible possible, the insanity so close to home. It is spectacle.

Through online activity, the son made it clear that something is happening at home, yet we cannot be certain if he has noticed the camera.

These all point to the idea that the murders are being viewed by an audience rather than just by intruders, that this is a performance for said audience's benefit more than anything else. But notably, it also reinforces the idea of these characters having an existence outside of the camera: the camera shows the action and "strips away" the cues behind it, the victims have a life outside the camera such that they could plausibly sense that the camera is now here. The victims are sometimes described as playing into their role, but always metaphorically; always as if normal people start acting like characters when put in certain circumstances. Whereas Funny Games posits that characters will behave however the author wants them to, denying the claim that stories are realistic simulations of hypothetical scenarios.

The whole thing is predicated on the idea that there needs to be a guide, that the villain of a home invader movie is really in danger of something going wrong. Paul/The narrator keeps giving directions on what needs to be double checked, what needs to X, and its completely against the spirit of the role Paul served in Funny Games. If something goes wrong for the villain they should just be able to rewind and do it over, because the story was written for them to succeed. Anybody Home? throws out Funny Games theme of the story being on rails, of the winner being whoever the author wants it to be and the events following whatever the author wanted rather than what would "really" happen. It throws out the whole idea that it’s all just a story, by supporting the idea that the characters have lives not captured by the camera—or more relevantly, not captured on-page.

Because Seidlinger using the language of film in a book leads to different things going on with the fourth wall. The way Funny Games and Anybody Home? make the camera explicit are just different, and the former does it much more interestingly than the latter. Seildinger’s characters aren’t looking back at the reader, the fourth wall is never actually breached. Funny Games has Paul look into the camera to address the audience, making clear how it’s a story being set up for the audience's benefit. Anybody Home? invokes the idea of a camera tracking everything home invaders do in general, having it be a third-party force that’s itself an unseen character contained within the story, observing the intruder's crime rather than the reader. Why is it still a camera, if we're in a book rather than a movie? A character in a book talking about a camera watching them does not convey any of the same meaning as a character in a movie suddenly looking into a camera and smirking at the audience!

By the end, you realize that this is caused in part by the book's bizarro take on how horror movies exist in this world. It reveals that in its setting, all horror movies are adaptations of real home invasions, which get recorded by unseen mysterious forces. Killers enter a home and enact violence, are filmed by some supernatural camera, the footage gets leaked to the public, and then the killers sell the rights to the work to studios. The events of SAW really happened, but the movie was just an adaptation. Funny Games really happened, but the Paul in the movies was just an actor playing the Paul narrating this book. The killer's victims eventually realize that they're "victims," but not in the sense that they realize their characters in a story, only in a sense that they realize they got sucked into their world's magical realism bullshit.

Ultimately, while the book does the same trick of being all about how horror stories are “for” us, it gets rid of all the tricks that made it work for Funny Games. It even strips it's in-universe version of what made it special; Funny Games is just another adaptation of a real home invasion. All the meta stuff that makes it interesting in its genre are just gestured at as aesthetics.

So what makes Jack Slash in Worm succeed where the killers in Anybody Home? fail? Both are constructed to be entertaining for a 3rd party who stand-in for but aren't actually the audience; the entities in Worm, the cults in Anybody Home?. But Jack Slash doesn't mix his metaphors. Worm may turn various real-life factors affecting a work into in-story mechanisms of the world in the same way Anybody Home? does. But it doesn't also base itself off a text that takes in-story mechanisms and breaks them to force the audience to see the various real-life factors affecting the work. In effect, WB pulls off a trick Seidlinger tries and fails because WB wasn't taking another metatexual story and stripping it of what made it interesting.

Though that introduces the question: can such meta-moves be mixed? Can you have a text where story conceits become explicit plot mechanics the characters are aware of, while also having characters really look at the camera and tell the audience that its all just a story? Can you actually sell it and make it something interesting?

There is one story that tries this. I don't know if it pulls it off, but it certainly makes a lot of interesting moves that create a fascinating whole. It even comments on the Joker in the same way Worm does, having a character who seemingly cant die because the roll they play in the story is too impor—

Ah fuck.

Continued in part 2.

[mtkay13]

WenZhou x Memes! and, of course, some thoughts. More memes below + explanations! (Very Long Post)

You know other men?

The first one above was based on a famous "you know other men?" meme, that Bichen suggested we take part in (in the TYK community). I wanted to make ZZS smile at WKX's antics because it makes him laugh, ofc, and because he's quite fond of that wife act WKX enjoys playing so much.

The Barbie meme

Interestingly enough, this one has sparked quite a bunch of discussions online. When we had talked about making the meme for TYK!WenZhou, both Moose (@butleronice) and I thought that having ZZS as the serious one felt a bit strange. I feel like TYK!ZZS as I know him is rather goofy and would be more likely to make fun of the situation and the authorities that he doesn't take seriously.

WKX, besides in ZZS' presence, in the book, tends to act very cold and not necessarily civil--especially if you think those would be Jianghu authorities. Not saying the reverse wouldn't work, of course! But for my conception of the characters, it felt off. However--on twitter, we both received more comments than necessary saying: "This should be the opposite." "WKX should be the fun one--", etc. I have to confess that this left me worried regarding ZZS' reputation, considering that more often than not, when I make him to be the goofier, more stupid looking one, I get surprised reactions. I wonder what exactly has given him these... serious, un-fun vibes for many people.

The way I see it, in the book, ZZS is quite fun, overly civil and polite in a fake-smiley way, gets himself in absurd situations and WKX comments on him as being ridiculous and goofy. Of course, in ZZS' presence, WKX himself acts in a very extra way, but overall, in the book, WKX is quite closed-off and cold towards others, and doesn't give those vibes of being fun, extra or goofy to me. (I won't lie, I do blame the first and most popular translations for that, as they make ZZS quite stiff in the dialogs and I feel like this doesn't help...) I don't think it's a problem if people see them differently, though! But it was upsetting to see how some people did (quite rudely in some case) allow themselves to tell us how wrong we were, especially considering the time and care we both put in our decision to characterise them this way (and work on their expressions).

I recommend going to check Moose's version on her twitter as well (@butleronduty)!!

Equal strength

This one was based on a meme posted by Choco (@kwehxing) on twitter; about how this dialog would be fun for WenZhou.

I, once again, considered that yeah, maybe the default would have WKX turn any situation into a reason to fuck--but at the same time, I wondered: is it really his style? Isn't he having plenty of situations in which he can bring that up, already? I like to read ZZS as having a certain competence kink, and I think he gets off of sparring and feeling WKX's strength. I thought it fun to imagine him getting really worked up from sparring and using that as an excuse to demand fucking because OBVIOUSLY what else. I guess that to me, this is a reflection of how his mind is working.

The Tintin parody

My friend Angel brought a tintin parody comic from the @tintinades account on twitter and instagram. Here is the original. I thought it could be really fun to adapt it for WenZhou with a little twist at the end. Of course, mastering qinggong, WenZhou probably don't really need the ropes--although I think that ZCL isn't able to safely cross the road yet which is why they wanted to make a way. However, WKX clearly got distracted and went on ahead, hehe.

The distracted BF

This one was suggested by Bichen again--a classic, which worked really well and was actually quite funny when using Hoboxu.

He wants to order

This was the first meme I ever drew for WenZhou, following the "he/she wants to order" pattern. Pretty self-explanatory!

[aohisworld]

BROKEN CD

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ when the world picks on Aohi, she crumbles gently, and Ri-ki’s there to put her back together, piece by piece.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ nishimura ri-ki x addedmember!oc. mentions of poly!ot7 x addedmember!oc, contains. cringe writing, angst (as always).

| : ̗̀➛ MINTIE’s NOTES: a little self-indulgent because I feel like poopoo honestly 😞 I apologize if this mini- drabble? fic? Is short, I really barely have any time to write to my pieces, and I can only offer you guys these small little fics 😭

| : ̗̀➛ WARNING! How I write ENHYPEN is not meant to portray the idols irl, this is my au and I write this for fun.

✧. ┊    No one’s a stranger to the familiar feeling of coming back down from a successful peak, the sudden feeling of clouded thoughts or the slow burn-out of your sociality or productivity being a familiar dull sting to your body and mind.

And sometimes you can’t understand just why you have to burn out, and with that comes along frustrations, anger, the tantrums inside your mind when nothing goes your way when you’ve already had a bad day.

Aohi’s world dulls to grey for a little while, the exhausting schedule and the upcoming recording for memorabilia took a lot out of her.

All she wanted was to sleep, maybe for a week straight, if she could, she’d hibernate like a bear. Aohi knows she can’t though, engenes would miss her too much.

Despite her frustrations with the slightly wrong tones or the wrong words being sung out, she trudges on, continuing to work, to rewrite, to practice.

She’s repaid by the loss of her voice, and recording’s been pulled back a week later due to the sudden situation. Aohi sits in her seat speechless when her manager explains it on the way to the studio.

“But then, why am I going if I’m being put on vocal rest?” Aohi’s voice croaks out. In a comical way, she sounded like a Justin Bieber when he was in his teens, cracking and going airy from time to time.

“I didn’t want you to come in either, but the studio was insistent on it,” Aohi groans, despite how hurtful it was on her throat. “Trust me, I tried to fight for a day off, all I could do was move your session to a later time tomorrow.”

“I can’t even do anything at the studio, the whole point of a vocal rest is so I could rest!”

“First off, stop yelling, don’t use your voice-“ Her manager looked up at the rear view mirror, shooting her a glance that told Aohi to fix her attitude.

"Second, just get through this recording, it'll be over before you know it.."

Aohi just rolled her eyes, feeling already irked that she had to come in today. Aohi stared out the window as she ended up tuning out her manager’s voice and locking herself inside her mind.

There wasn’t much to do for her especially when she had a sore throat, even if she could, Aohi doubts her current health would even be able to keep up with anything.

“Aohi, let’s go.” Her manager could be heard unbuckling her seatbelt, Aohi following. Aohi grabbed her phone and opened her car door, squinting at the bright sun.

Her instant response to the sudden rays was to put up her hoodie, entering the studio.

“Batsy!” Sunoo chirps, reaching for the girl before any of the other guys could call for her, and with her call, Aohi gravitates towards Sunoo, his arms taking her in like a cuddly bear.

“I missed you..” Aohi mumbled into his clothes, and Sunoo just hums and kisses her forehead, “gonna keep with the PDA or are we actually recording?” Xiulin amusingly spoke from behind the two.

And it would’ve been funny, if Aohi hadn’t hissed back at her. “Unnie, respectfully shut up.” Aohi replied with a hoarse voice, and Sunoo was taken aback by her sudden reply. Xiulin must’ve been as well, looking at Aohi with widened eyes.

Aohi’s furrowed brows seemed to soften after realizing the stunned faces across the room, and she sighs, pulling away from Sunoo.

“Sorry, unnie… i just… don’t feel well.” Aohi walks into the studio booth trying to rubbing her temple with a frown. Xiulin was still waiting out her aftershock as she just watched her dongsaeng walk away.

“What’s her problem?” Ri-ki pointed his thumb at Aohi inside the booth, looking towards the boys who looked equally confused. “I know manager-nim said she wasn’t feeling well… but she’s never snapped at me like that before.” Xiulin frowns at the booth door, rubbing at her neck in discomfort.

“It’s okay noona, I’m sure Aohi just didn’t feel up to the teasing, you know how she is..” Jungwon tries to ease Xiulin’s feelings, patting the older girl’s back to comfort her.

“We’ll talk to her, don’t worry.” Sunoo added, giving Xiulin a gentle and reassuring smile as the group trailed into the booth.

Aohi sat in one of the couches, trying keep to herself, quietly playing on her phone. The boys looked to each other, trying to figure out how to approach the girl without already irking her more than she already was.

“Heeseung-ssi, Xiulin-ssi, we can record your lines now.” One of the producers called the eldest of the hyung and maknae line to come in, and Xiulin glanced at Aohi, who glances at her and Heeseung.

Aohi quickly darts her gaze back onto her phone as she tries to focus on her games, trying to get the day to go by faster.

Xiulin sighs, looking towards Heeseung who was already waiting by the booth, he mouths to her as if to tell her, that the boys will handle it while they’re gone, and not to worry too much.

Jay decides to make a move towards Aohi, sitting beside her with caution. Aohi squirms at the sudden dip in the couch, but refuses to look up anyway.

“Batsy.. look at me, baby..” Jay encouraged, his hands gently reaching for her tense ones. “You want to tell me what’s wrong?.. we just want to help, Aohi, baby.” Aohi feels rather suffocated in Jay’s hold, and she knows he doesn’t mean to cage her in, but she feels like she can’t breathe.

Aohi shakes her head, trying to pull away from his hold, and Jay’s eyebrow twitches, his first indication that something was worse than just annoyance or tiredness. She mumbled something that Jay couldn’t decipher, he leans even closer.

Jay knew that even if Aohi was annoyed, she’d never turn down any of his hugs, even going as far to tell him that he’s the best at cuddling besides Ri-ki.

“Look at me, Batsy.” Jay reaches for her face, his gentle fingers barely touching her cheeks when Aohi slaps them away. “I told you to leave me alone!” Aohi’s voice croaks loudly, and Jake stands up from his spot in the room.

Her hand reaches to push Jay away, who seemed hurt at the way Aohi raises her voice at him. Despite being scolded by Aohi before, it never sounded worse like it did at this moment.

Aohi’s hand is stopped by Jake’s hand around her wrist, and her attention’s turned from Jay to Jake, trying to pull her wrist away from him.

“Let go!”

“Aohi, that’s enough! We’re just trying to help you!” Jake holds her tighter, and Aohi squeezes her eyes tight, letting out a sob. “I don’t want your help!” Aohi stands up from her spot, shoving Jake away.

Jake toppled over a few instruments, hissing at the impact. “Hyung!” Jungwon and Sunghoon quickly stood up, rushing to Jake’s side. Aohi’s breath hitches, and she sniffles, glancing around, Sunoo and Ri-ki looking at her with disbelief.

Aohi could feel her heart beating with intensity as she only looks for her only escape, running out of the room to the front door.

She has no idea where to run, but her legs certainly aren’t stopping, Aohi doesn’t register which way she goes, turning all sorts of corners, and the sun blinding her.

Soon enough, her body stops running, and Aohi has no clue where she is, she sits on a random bench, the area seemed deserted, some patches of weed growing through the brick path she ran down on.

Aohi brings her legs up on the bench, and she remembers that she’s left her phone at the studio with everyone else, and the air doesn’t do much to calm her.

She digs her face into her knees, and she could feel the familiar sting of tears in her eyes and she squeals into her knees, as if angry that she’s crying.

Aohi has no idea why she’s been so upset lately, maybe she needed to be alone for a while, or maybe Aohi felt like the world hasn’t been so nice to her lately. She’s tired, so tired.

Aohi just wanted to rest for a little while, and she can’t do that when her company wants her to go to these recordings despite putting her on vocal rest.

Aohi can’t afford to go home right now either, for one, she has no clue where she is and Aohi knows that she needs a ride to even get back to the apartments.

She only whimpers, and lets herself cry into her arms, pitiful sobs leaving like a lullaby from her lips. Aohi’s back shakes as her sobs continue, and she realizes that she can’t even stop herself or quiet herself.

And in an ironic way, the world sends a somewhat comforting breeze to her side, despite being certainly mean to her the couple of days, Aohi takes the breeze with gusto, sniffling as she’s blanketed with the wind.

Aohi cries her pretty little heart out in a deserted part of this random park, and she cries and cries until her eyes tire out, Aohi can feel the creeping tiredness loom over her as her eyes don’t fight the urge to close, to get sleep.

She just lets it happen as her eyes blanket her vision with darkness, and she sniffles once more, the need to sleep heavy and she doesn’t fight.

The sun’s starting to come down, and Aohi can barely register the muffled call of her name. Aohi could feel the approaching headache from dehydration, obviously from crying her eyes out the previous hours, but she looks up anyway.

“Aohi.. wake up, damn it..” Ri-ki curses, and he sits beside her balled figure on the bench, he runs his hands through his hair, sighing out of worry and concern.

“nini…” Aohi mumbled out, and her voice is still coarse, maybe even worse than it was the last time Ri-ki heard it. Ri-ki stops himself from softening at the nickname she calls him, one that she got from other fan accounts on Twitter, thinking it was adorable.

“Do you know how fucking worried we were?…” Ri-ki breathlessly spoke, and he gently placed a hand on her cheek, his eyebrows furrowed. Aohi whimpered, digging her cheek into his palm anyway.

“I’m sorry, nini…” Ri-ki curses under his breath, and he takes off his jacket, placing it over Aohi’s body, he felt the alarming heat of her body on his palm, he stands up from the bench and takes his arms under Aohi’s knees and supporting her back.

He lifts her up with a huff, carrying Aohi bridal style. “Don’t think just because you’re sick means you’re off the hook for running like that.” Ri-ki walks down the familiar path, the sun was going down and soon enough, he won’t be able to see the path out of the deserted park.

“You worried the fuck out of everyone… Jay and Jake were out in the cold for hours, you left your phone so we couldn’t even…” Ri-ki blinked his tears away, the worry and the thought that something could’ve happened to Aohi overwhelming him.

“We couldn’t track you down, and who knows where the hell you could’ve gone?…” Aohi, despite being too tired out of her mind and sleepy, felt guilty anyways, she felt stupid for running then, and she still felt stupid now.

“I don’t know what I would’ve done if I couldn’t find you… hell, what would we tell the engenes? you hate disappointing them..” Ri-ki grits his teeth, it takes a little while for them to regroup with the others, and Ri-ki had gone silent from walking for a bit and he finally walks out to a familiar path, seeing the boys and Xiulin waiting anxiously by the van.

“You found her!" Heeseung sighed in relief, jogging up to the two, Aohi seemed to knock out on the walk, and Heeseung reaches to check on her.

"She's burning.." Heeseung curses, and he walks to the van and opens the door, "Let's get her home before she gets worse." Sunoo agrees, nodding as he climbs into the vehicle, helping Ri-ki climb in with Aohi in his hold.

"Careful.. she's going to bump her head.." Sunoo whispers, placing his hands on her head, looking at Aohi with worry in his eyes.

The boys and Xiulin are silently driven home by their staff, and they all apologize to the staff member for keeping them waiting as Ri-ki, bowed, before walking up to the apartment.

"Ri-ki-yah.. I can carry her.." Sunghoon offered from beside him, and he shakes his head, just continuing to walk up to their dormitory, which Jungwon opens for the youngest.

"Wait! You should bring her to our dorm, I can't take care of her from your dorms.." Xiulin voiced, and the boys turn to her, "Noona, don't worry about it, I'm sure you're tired, me and the hyungs will take care of her." Ri-ki shoots their eldest girl a reassuring look, and Xiulin can't help but sigh.

"But-" Jay shakes his head, asking Xiulin not to fight them on it, "You can trust us, Xiu, don't worry." Xiulin softly frowns, but she couldn't go up against seven boys, even if she wanted to.

"Okay, just.. make sure she gets some rest..." Xiulin reaches over and places a small kiss on Aohi's burning forehead, a quiet goodbye as she recovers in the boys' dorms.

The boys and Xiulin part from the stairs, and Aohi's brought into the boys' dorms, they all have separate rooms now, the countless complaints from singer to manager had worked, and given them some sort of privacy.

Ri-ki makes a quick move to place her onto his bed, tucking her with record-breaking speed, trying to keep her warm, feeling Aohi shiver all throughout the car ride.

Despite his worry, he still feels sour about earlier, knowing Aohi wasn't feeling well, and her mood was not best, did not excuse the fact that she ran off, and for hours they couldn't find her.

"I'll go grab a rag for her fever.." Sunoo whispers from beside Ri-ki, patting the youngest's back in comfort before leaving the room. The rest of the boys seemed to follow after Sunoo, quiet excuses pouring from all of their lips.

"We'll get dinner started, make her some food.." Jay and Jungwon walked out together, and Sunghoon runs his hand through his face, "We'll give you some space.." Heeseung pulls Sunghoon with him, who seems hesitant to leave Aohi's side.

"How could you be so reckless, batsy?" Ri-ki whispered, his tone scolding. For once, he was babying Aohi without any complaint. Well, not that she could anyway. "I thought something had happened to you.. and I wouldn't of been there..."

Ri-ki sat by her side for a while, he repositioned to the ground, gently rubbing his thumb against Aohi's palm. A calming gesture for both of them. He quietly watches Aohi's sleeping figure, and despite the underlying cringe from him, feeling creepy for watching her, he couldn't help but worry, truly.

"...I would've lost it.. batsy, I need you," Ri-ki whispers, and it seems like every time they were by themselves, he starts to speak in Japanese, like he's at his most vulnerable with her. "I need you like water, my love.." He continues his sentence, hoping she'll awake for a little bit.

Like a miracle, Aohi twitches from her sleep, and she lets out a quiet groan, her eyes fluttering from her nap, and she's faced with the familiar ceiling of Ri-ki's room. She calls for him with a broken voice.

"Nini..." And Ri-ki makes a move, sitting up on his knees to coo at her silently, "I'm here, lovely.." He feels Aohi's hand squeeze his, and he feels himself relax. Ri-ki is relieved, comforted by Aohi's presence.

"Why.. would you go look for me..?" Aohi croaks from her spot, looking at Ri-ki with a hurt expression, and he's almost confused on why she would ask such a question. "Why wouldn't we?.." Ri-ki tilts his head, his thumb makes comforting swipes at the back of Aohi's hand.

"You could've gotten sick.. stupid.." Aohi tries to flick up at Ri-ki's forehead, and he shakes his head, making her drop her hand. "I don't care about getting sick, I care about finding you." He replies, and Aohi sighs, turning her head from Ri-ki to the wall.

"I hate when you say stuff like that.." Aohi whispers, and Ri-ki is confused, sure, his words would fluster the girl, but her? Hating such words from him when she was as affectionate as him?

"Why? You and I both know it's true," Ri-ki responds, and Aohi makes a move to almost throw a slight action of defiance. "And that's what I hate about it, I hate that you're willing to break your back as long as I'm with you.."

"And it's the same for the other boys, and I love that you love me so much," Ri-ki listens, despite his dislike for where the conversation was heading, "and I love you all the same, if not more, but I hate that you'd disregard your own well-being for me.. I wish I wasn't that important to you.. any of you."

"How could you say that?" Ri-ki asks, standing up from his spot and sitting on the bed, and Aohi sits up from her spot, "Ri-ki, how could I not? Hell, you gave me your jacket even when you knew it was cold.."

"You're always bending over backwards for me, and I wish you'd be a little more concerned with yourself." Aohi looks towards him and Ri-ki furrows his eyebrows. "You're the same way."

Aohi stays silent, "It's the way I am.." Aohi fiddles with her fingers, looking down at her lap. "And so what? You think we should just take and take, and you get nothing in return for yourself?" Ri-ki assumes, and Aohi looks to argue, to deny, but words don't come out of her mouth.

Ri-ki waits for a reply from Aohi and when she doesn't seem to speak, he continues. "What's the point of us dating you if we'll just be selfish while you break like this?" Aohi still doesn't reply, and she knows there's nothing she could say to fix her words, and what she meant.

"Are we even your boyfriends that way?" Aohi finally moves from her spot, "Of course you are! I just don't want you to be so consumed with being with me that you just.." Aohi brings her hands to her face, "It feels like you have to take care of me all of the time, and I'm just.."

"I don't want any of you to help me because it's not your job, I should be able to do this myself!" Aohi sobbed, and Ri-ki feels angrier than before.

“if you didn’t want any of us to help you when you’re crumbling like this then why are you still dating us?!” Ri-ki yells, and it’s the first time in a while that Aohi had heard him so loud.

Aohi blinks at him and for once she’s surprised of the way Ri-ki stared at her with angry tears. Ri-ki was angry at her.

“Are you angry at me?…” She whispers, and Aohi doesn’t miss the way her voice quivers as she asks this to Ri-ki who turns away from her.

“You don’t know how much it hurts when we see you like this… when I see you like this.” Ri-ki sobbed, his fists grab at his hair, and Aohi makes a move to stop him, knowing it’ll hurt.

“I feel like the worst fucking boyfriend when I see you fall apart like dust and I can’t help you.”

Aohi doesn’t say a word more, unable to reply. Her tears cascaded down her cheeks and she pulls Ri-ki into her arms. “I’m sorry.” She repeats like a mantra.

And it seems like Ri-ki breaks alongside Aohi, and she starts to think that maybe the world was a little too cruel on both of them, or maybe she was being too cruel on him, on all of them.

how could she fix this now?

"I'm sorry nini... I didn't mean to make you feel like that.. I just... feel awful and I've been too cruel.." Aohi holds Ri-ki tightly, and she could feel her hoodie starts to dampen with the boy's tears.

"I'm so sorry... I feel like the worst girlfriend to you... you don't even know nini.." Aohi hugs Ri-ki like she could never let go, and she knows she would never.

"Then help me know, I want to, let me understand, let me help.." Ri-ki begged from her, and Aohi feels worse than she already did.

Aohi places a gentle kiss on his forehead, continuing her apologies. Ri-ki seems to cry for forever he felt like, he just couldn't stop, and his fingers had gone red from how tightly he held Aohi in his arms.

"You don't deserve such a cruel girl like me.." She whispers, lifting Ri-ki's face, wiping at the streaks on his cheeks, and with a quiet voice, Ri-ki speaks, "I want you anyway, I'll always want to be with you, even if you don't."

"How did I score someone like you, hm, nini?" Aohi laughed through her own tears. "I don't know, but you're never getting rid of me." Ri-ki replies, before taking Aohi's cheeks in his hands and laying a gentle kiss on her lips.

The two's lips intertwined like perfect puzzle pieces, Aohi's hand reaching to cup Ri-ki's in a warmth he'll never deny. Aohi thinks that she could never get used to how warm Ri-ki's lips were, always comforting her in ways she could never do herself.

The two pull away, and Aohi almost chases after Ri-ki, already missing him so close to her.

"...I love you, so much." Aohi spoke after a while, using her hoodie sleeve to wipe at her nose, and Ri-ki laughs, grabbing a tissue from his bedside, "Don't wipe it on your hoodie, batsy.."

"I really do love you though, you know that right?" Ri-ki smiles, and nods, wiping at Aohi's tears. "aigoo... you big baby.." Ri-ki kisses at her nose, and Aohi squeals at the ticklish feeling.

"You cried too! I'm not the only big baby!" Aohi retorts, gently slapping Ri-ki's shoulder, the two continued to giggle for a little before they quiet down, the only evidence of their silly behaviour being their smiles.

"Don't ever be scared to crumble, we'll be here to pick you back up... just like you are for us.." Ri-ki hugs her tightly one more time, and Aohi's never felt as loved as she was with the boys, and it makes her realize how much she could never actually live without these boys.

"So.. how does soup sound?"

"Sounds lovely, nini."

"Good, you're going to have to apologize to Jay-hyung and Jake-hyung, they've been sulking since this afternoon." - "Oh... about that.."

[txttletale]

Your discussions on AI art have been really interesting and changed my mind on it quite a bit, so thank you for that! I don’t think I’m interested in using it, but I feel much less threatened by it in the same way. That being said, I was wondering, how you felt about AI generated creative writing: not, like AI writing in the context of garbage listicles or academic essays, but like, people who generate short stories and then submit them to contests. Do you think it’s the same sort of situation as AI art? Do you think there’s a difference in ChatGPT vs mid journey? Legitimate curiosity here! I don’t quite have an opinion on this in the same way, and I’ve seen v little from folks about creative writing in particular vs generated academic essays/articles

i think that ai generated writing is also indisputably writing but it is mostly really really fucking awful writing for the same reason that most ai art is not good art -- that the large training sets and low 'temperature' of commercially available/mass market models mean that anything produced will be the most generic version of itself. i also think that narrative writing is very very poorly suited to LLM generation because it generally requires very basic internal logic which LLMs are famously bad at (i imagine you'd have similar problems trying to create something visual like a comic that requires consistent character or location design rather than the singular images that AI art is mostly used for). i think it's going to be a very long time before we see anything good long-form from an LLM, especially because it's just not a priority for the people making them.

ultimately though i think you could absolutely do some really cool stuff with AI generated text if you had a tighter training set and let it get a bit wild with it. i've really enjoyed a lot of AI writing for being funny, especially when it was being done with tools like botnik that involve more human curation but still have the ability to completely blindside you with choices -- i unironically think the botnik collegehumour sketch is funnier than anything human-written on the channel. & i think that means it could reliably be used, with similar levels of curation, to make some stuff that feels alien, or unsettling, or etheral, or horrifying, because those are somewhat adjacent to the surreal humour i think it excels at. i could absolutely see it being used in workflows -- one of my friends told me recently, essentially, "if i'm stuck with writer's block, i ask chatgpt what should happen next, it gives me a horrible idea, and i immediately think 'that's shit, and i can do much better' and start writing again" -- which is both very funny but i think presents a great use case as a 'rubber duck'.

but yea i think that if there's anything good to be found in AI-written fiction or poetry it's not going to come from chatGPT specifically, it's going to come from some locally hosted GPT model trained on a curated set of influences -- and will have to either be kind of incoherent or heavily curated into coherence.

that said the submission of AI-written stories to short story mags & such fucking blows -- not because it's "not writing" but because it's just bad writing that's very very easy to produce (as in, 'just tell chatGPT 'write a short story'-easy) -- which ofc isn't bad in and of itself but means that the already existing phenomenon of people cynically submitting awful garbage to literary mags that doesn't even meet the submission guidelines has been magnified immensely and editors are finding it hard to keep up. i think part of believing that generative writing and art are legitimate mediums is also believing they are and should be treated as though they are separate mediums -- i don't think that there's no skill in these disciplines (like, if someone managed to make writing with chatGPT that wasnt unreadably bad, i would be very fucking impressed!) but they're deeply different skills to the traditional artforms and so imo should be in general judged, presented, published etc. separately.