#and even if it does just make you look up the wikipedia GOOD

[aknightonthetown]

Just because I learned all of this when I read this book in Secondary School and want to do something during the downtime, I will be just going over the life of Robert Louis Stevenson. Will do this in various parts over the course of the story so that I don’t write one massive fuck off page. He was born in 1850 in Edinburgh, Scotland, to a family of Lighthouse Engineers. His Father, Grandfather, and Uncles all being engaged in the engineering and design of Lighthouses. From a very young age it was clear Robert had inherited a weak chest like his Mother and Father, frequently having troubles with Coughs and Fevers. These issues would only be exacerbated by both damper climates and recurring bouts of Illness (while at the time it was viewed as Tuberculosis, some modern people think he may have had a different illness).

Because of his illness Robert had to take long periods away from schools (being taught by private tutors) and even when he did go to them he frequently had troubles due to being eccentric and strange looking. Despite being a late reader (learning how to read around 7 or 8) he would still dictate stories to his mother and nurse. While his father did hope for him to join the family trade he was still happy with his son having the hobby of writing stories, as he had done the same as a young boy before his father had forced him to stop (even paying for Robert’s first publication at the age of 16 “The Pentland Rising: A Page of History, 1666“). Stevenson eventually joined the University of Edinburgh, studying an Engineering degree. However from the very start he brought no enthusiasm to the education, putting much more of his energy into trying to avoid classes and making friends through The Speculative Society, a society dedicated to public speaking and writing. Despite this his father still took him every holiday on a large trip to see the families Engineering Works. Stevenson still enjoyed the trips, but less for the engineering and more for the potential inspiration for his writing. By the time Robert finally told his father he planned to make his living through writing in 1871 (when Robert was 21) his father was described by his mother as “wonderfully resigned“ to this fact. His parents convinced him to read law at Edinburgh University and be called to the Scottish Bar for some Job Security in case his writing went poorly. In his 1887 poetry collection “Underwoods”, Stevenson reflects on his choice of profession: “Say not of me that weakly I declined The labours of my sires, and fled the sea, The towers we founded and the lamps we lit, To play at home with paper like a child. But rather say: In the afternoon of time A strenuous family dusted from its hands The sand of granite, and beholding far Along the sounding coast its pyramids And tall memorials catch the dying sun, Smiled well content, and to this childish task Around the fire addressed its evening hours.“

[valeriehalla]

actual writing advice

1. Use the passive voice.

What? What are you talking about, “don’t use the passive voice”? Are you feeling okay? Who told you that? Come on, let’s you and me go to their house and beat them with golf clubs. It’s just grammar. English is full of grammar: you should go ahead and use all of it whenever you want, on account of English is the language you’re writing in.

2. Use adverbs.

Now hang on. What are you even saying to me? Don’t use adverbs? My guy, that is an entire part of speech. That’s, like—that’s gotta be at least 20% of the dictionary. I don’t know who told you not to use adverbs, but you should definitely throw them into the Columbia river.

3. There’s no such thing as “filler”.

Buddy, “filler” is what we called the episodes of Dragon Ball Z where Goku wasn’t blasting Frieza because the anime was in production before Akira Toriyama had written the part where Goku blasts Frieza. Outside of this extremely specific context, “filler” does not exist. Just because a scene wouldn’t make it into the Wikipedia synopsis of your story’s plot doesn’t mean it isn’t important to your story. This is why “plot” and “story” are different words!

4. okay, now that I’ve snared you in my trap—and I know you don’t want to hear this—but orthography actually does kind of matter

First of all, a lot of what you think of as “grammar” is actually orthography. Should I put a comma here? How do I spell this word in this context? These are questions of orthography (which is a fancy Greek word meaning “correct-writing”). In fact, most of the “grammar questions” you’ll see posted online pertain to orthography; this number probably doubles in spaces for writers specifically.

If you’re a native speaker of English, your grammar is probably flawless and unremarkable for the purposes of writing prose. Instead, orthography refers to the set rules governing spelling, punctuation, and whitespace. There are a few things you should know about orthography:

English has no single orthography. You already know spelling and punctuation differ from country to country, but did you know it can even differ from publisher to publisher? Some newspapers will set parenthetical statements apart with em dashes—like this, with no spaces—while others will use slightly shorter dashes – like this, with spaces – to name just one example.

Orthography is boring, and nobody cares about it or knows what it is. For most readers, orthography is “invisible”. Readers pay attention to the words on a page, not the paper itself; in much the same way, readers pay attention to the meaning of a text and not the orthography, which exists only to convey that meaning.

That doesn’t mean it’s not important. Actually, that means it’s of the utmost importance. Because orthography can only be invisible if it meets the reader’s expectations.

You need to learn how to format dialogue into paragraphs. You need to learn when to end a quote with a comma versus a period. You need to learn how to use apostrophes, colons and semicolons. You need to learn these things not so you can win meaningless brownie points from your English teacher for having “Good Grammar”, but so that your prose looks like other prose the reader has consumed.

If you printed a novel on purple paper, you’d have the reader wondering: why purple? Then they’d be focusing on the paper and not the words on it. And you probably don’t want that! So it goes with orthography: whenever you deviate from standard practices, you force the reader to work out in their head whether that deviation was intentional or a mistake. Too much of that can destroy the flow of reading and prevent the reader from getting immersed.

You may chafe at this idea. You may think these “rules” are confusing and arbitrary. You’re correct to think that. They’re made the fuck up! What matters is that they were made the fuck up collaboratively, by thousands of writers over hundreds of years. Whether you like it or not, you are part of that collaboration: you’re not the first person to write prose, and you can’t expect yours to be the first prose your readers have ever read.

That doesn’t mean “never break the rules”, mind you. Once you’ve gotten comfortable with English orthography, then you are free to break it as you please. Knowing what’s expected gives you the power to do unexpected things on purpose. And that’s the really cool shit.

5. You’re allowed to say the boobs were big if the story is about how big the boobs were

Nobody is saying this. Only I am brave enough to say it.

Well, bye!

[kiwanopie]

Overnight Lovin’

Sakusa Kiyoomi x Reader

cw: smut, alcohol mention, oral sex(f!receving), dumbification, dirty talk, whipped!Kiyoomi, mutually cumdrunk, PnV sex, creampie. Minors do not interact.

wc: 3.2k

This is not your bedroom.

As much as you’d kill for it to be. Silk cotton stuffed duvet a rich maroon in accordance to equally as soft sheets. Carefully shined mahogany floors checkered in wine colored Persian, a bedroom that’s more fantasy love suite than any commonplace bedroom and fuck if this mattress isn’t like heaven to lay on.

But this isn’t your bedroom.

You point your nose to the oversized shirt flooding a little under your collarbones. It’s just a simple horror tee. Dark colored kanji hovering over an illustration of Jason half obscured by cartoon blood and soft to the cotton touch. It’s big enough to cover a good portion of your thighs that are… not dressed with anything. Huh. Yeah, you are- You feel up your modest covering with a quick pat down of your hands. - Completely naked under this. And honestly a little sore. A certain shift of your hips has your pelvic area throbbing back at you like it’s already tapping out, fingerprint bruises on your thighs that feel tender when you poke them; even your tits are sore - nipples perking under your shirt like they’ve already been prodded and played with. Whoever the hell you went home with last night gave you a run for your money.

Come to think of it, what the hell even happened last night? Last you remember you were twisting your hips against a bar stool while your college buddies raved on ecstasy and coke on the dance floor. — A Shirley temple was enough to start your party high without indulging in any illicit drugs, but you’ve never been much of a drinker. That fizzy cherry vodka already had you buzzing, a few more of those and who knows what’ll happen.

You bite your lip against the grain of new life and newer feelings of lechery. You look too good and too soft not to be bent over a sink somewhere.

“That sweet?” His voice turns your fine hairs into goosebumps. “Looks tasty.”

You gaze up at him with doey eyes so filled with mirth that it makes his palms sweat. “It is.”

You slide your bottom lip through your teeth. Voice as pretty as you are. “You want a sip?”

He’s the smell of Dior and vetiver as he lifts the glass cuplet out of your hands. “Sure.”

You don’t remember who he was or what he looked like but just the memory of his raspy voice turns your sore throbbing into a needy ache. — If the way the sink in his bathroom abruptly stops with a moment of sluggish shuffling, you’re about to find out who exactly it was that rocked your world last night.

You’re already looking up at him when the door opens with a neat click, his muscled limbs stretch his boxers in a way that can only be described as appetizing.

And then you get a good look at his face.

Oh. Holy shit.

There’s… That’s-… How? He looks exactly like he does on his team’s magazine covers. JSM’s top ten lists, Bungeishunjū, and news outlets that brandish his face for a chance at watchability. He’s even more handsome in person. Trademark resting bitch face does little to dilute how painfully attractive he is and if anything the intimidation factor is a bonus. As well as the fame, the money, and of course his position as one of the top most well known athletes in all of Asia.

His name precedes him, the renowned Olympic volleyball player feels even taller than the humble 6’4 his Wikipedia pages cite him as,

He’s Sakusa Kiyoomi.

If it weren’t for the disorienting confusion you may have screamed. This is the guy who fucked you last night within an inch of your life.

Your voice is a little raspy which is expected, but when you open your mouth your jaw is sore. “Ohayō Gozaimasu-“

He clears the floor from the bathroom to the bed in just a few footsteps, you can barely react when he’s grabbing you by the jaw and tilting your head up for a better angle.

And then he’s kissing you.

The kiss is slow and sensual, so sultry that you moan a little in his mouth and he breathes into it with a deep hum. He’s kissing you like he loves you, like he’s crazy about you and like he just can’t get enough. The current of the kiss follows a savory kind of spit swapping that turns your inner thighs misty, and he pulls away with a soft smack that all but leaves a gossamer trail.

His thumb rubs circles on the soft of your cheek. “Ohayō.”

Your heart skips at the little peck he leaves on your lips before finally pulling away.

He runs a large hand through his tousled hair as he moves for a dresser near the vanity. “I ordered us some breakfast that should be here within the hour,”

He pulls out a shirt. “I’d make you some breakfast from scratch but,” Sakusa tugs it over his head. “I figured it’d be cruel to subject you to my cooking this early on.”

You blow a humored breath out of your nose. “I appreciate the sentiment regardless,”

He approaches the bed again and sits himself down across from you, there are love bites on his neck that probably match yours. “I hope you slept well.” He hums. “I slept like a rock because of you, actually.”

Oh god, you don’t even wanna know what kind of raunchy shit you were up to last night.

“I slept like the dead.” You crawl up to him, he’s already opening his arms for you. “Whatever you did put me out like a light.”

You fit in his arms so well it’s almost scary, he wraps his arms around you like he might never let you go. “Uh, Sakusa-san?”

He furrows. “Last name?”

You smile apologetically. “Kiyoomi,” You correct yourself. “I don’t… remember a lot of last night. We came back here from the club, right?”

“You…?” Kiyoomi’s eyebrows shoot up incredulously. “You don’t remember?”

“Not a lot.” You shake your head.

He frowns.

But even still his hand rubs fond lines up and down your back, still holding you just as faithfully, and looking up at you like you’re the best thing since sliced bread. “We marathoned a few drinks and then I had us dropped off at my place. I think… we started in the car, and then in my living room, and then the kitchen, the hallway, my bedroom finally; and then after a few hours we finished each other off in the shower. Around five we kissed until you eventually fell asleep.”

Kiyoomi traces the curves of your lips as he gazes fondly. “Last night was the best night of my life, I think. I don’t know if I’ve ever been with someone who could make me feel so good.” He proclaims. “I hope it’ll all come to you eventually, it was really something special.”

Well with the way he’s been treating you up to this point, it’s not like you’ll have a hard time believing that. Every earnest caress and look of adoration, the way his voice timbres into a loving hum, so smooth it makes you shiver. Hopefully those memories do come back at some point. You’ll never live it down if you actually missed the best night of your life.

You muse it with a little pout at the thought of that, Kiyoomi debates leaning forward and sucking your bottom lip into his mouth. “Hopefully I do remember then. It sounds like we had a lot of fun,”

Your pout drops after a short moment of consideration and you lean in even closer. The soft tip of your nose grazes in feather strokes as you skim it over his and slowly ease your lips down the path way to his, tasting his shuddering breaths as you hover there for a few painful seconds. But he all but melts when you finally meet. A chaste lingering kiss at first, a few sensuous short ones; you do him the courtesy and suck his bottom lip in your mouth instead. — Letting it snap back before you’re starting a trail down his cheek and kissing up until you're nosing under his jaw, using your loving hand to tilt his head up and give you the access that you seek.

He could buy you a ring right now, he wouldn’t even regret it. You don't even remember what you two got up to last night and still you’re caressing him in a way that gives him goosebumps. If you keep this up, he might wind up funding your entire life.

You bring your head up again and pull him into another kiss. Slow and open mouthed, and he damn near purrs when you start pushing your fingers through his hair. “Regardless, you feel amazing.” You whisper against his lips.

God, you might be trying to kill him. “I wouldn’t mind a refresher if you’re up for it.”

He sighs through his nose as he ducks his head to burrow himself into the crevasse over your shoulder, already peppering in searing kisses down your throat. “I was hoping you’d say something like that.”

Kiyoomi sucks in a love bite that makes you whimper so pretty. “I’m gonna make you feel so fucking good you can’t take it.”

With the way you’re already making a mess in his lap, you believe him.

—

He’s a good kisser.

Regardless of where his lips end up. He’s a little messy, a little heavy with tongue, slow when it matters and firm when it counts. He’s great with his mouth. Surprising since he’s known for being somewhat of a recluse in the opinion of the public eye. Some call him aloof, others call him cold, the majority call him intimidating, but right now what comes to your mind is giving.

The way he spits on your already messy pussy makes your eyes roll.

You inadvertently hump into his face as the combination of his tongue and fingers set the pit in your stomach ablaze. He’s fucking you with his mouth so thoroughly that the skewlch of your building arousal reverbates throughout the room. You almost feel bad about how much your thighs are all but compressing the sides of his head, but every effort to lighten up on him has him tightening his hold on you to keep him locked against your sloppy cunt.

You hiss through your teeth as your fingers card through his hair. “F-Fuck… Omi…!”

Kiyoomi moans against your clit at the wanton sound of your pitched voice. Airy, and breathy, and intoxicating. He’s grinding himself so desperately into the mattress that he’s sure he’s gone sticky.

The veins in his arms pop as he persistently fucks his fingers into your tight little hole, sloppily sucking your swollen clit as the way you roll your hips into his face drives him crazy. “You’re gonna make me cum…!” You whimper. “Fuck, Kiyoomi!”

That crude mixture of his spit and your cum is starting to form a little puddle under your backside, every bit of you he doesn’t get to swallow he doubles his efforts to drink you up sprucely.

Hearing you teeter over the edge makes him feel like he’s following close behind. Your moans are so astonishingly pretty that it’s turning his brain all fuzzy. “Ffffuck! Oh fuck. Oh my god, baby! Fuck-! I-I’m…I’m cumming…!”

Kiyoomi groans drunkenly into your cunt as it suckles on his fingers, he’s so determined to drink every last drop of your cum that he almost comes off as depraved. Lewdly slurping you up as the way he desperately sucks on your clit makes you whine into the air. Still indulging himself in your mess even as you whimper from overstimulation.

He only pulls away because the way you’re begging for him to fuck you is sending him into a frenzy. “Wan’ it so bad, Omi. Please? Do whatever you want to me. U-Use me up!”

“Yeah?” Kiyoomi hums into your mouth as you suck yourself off of his tongue. “Want me to use you? I’ll fuck you till you cry, you know.”

Your misty eyes make his heart skip, the way the head of his cock catches your entrance feels like stepping into heaven all over again. “Please, baby? Give it to me. ‘Wanna feel you inside!”

He gapes a little as he presses himself in, so overwhelmed that his head falls into your shoulder and it’s an effort for him not to outright cry out at how fucking unreal you feel.

He thinks he might just be falling in love with you. Having a pussy like this may just be a hazard for his mental health, there’s no way he’s letting this slip throughout his fingers. “Oh my god,” Kiyoomi chokes. “O-Oh my fucking god.”

“You feel… unbelievable, angel,” He starts his pace. God, fucking you is actually pushing him to the brink of insanity. “…oh my fucking-… s-so tight! So fucking wet for me, angel… holy shit…- you’re so good to me, baby.”

His breathless praises are sending you alight. He’s so deep in your guts that you’re sure you’d find a bulge if you looked down at where your bodies meet. “So good…! So, so good!”

The way you hold each other is so desperate and devoted that it feels biblical. “I can feel you in my stomach, Omi… So deep…! Y-You’re… too deep!”

Kiyoomi grunts as he pushes himself in to the hilt and holds himself there for a blissful second. Grinding his hips in shallow circles that make you choke on your tongue, but you barely know the half of until he’s lifting up one of your legs.

And then the other, lifting on his knees till he’s hovering over your pretty face, - and then he starts pistoning.

The way your face contorts from a flustered glimmer of welling tears to a blissed out gape that cutens as your tears fall is enough to make his balls feel tight enough to burst. Never mind how fucking amazing this new angle is, watching you lose your mind under him as those pretty tits move to the current of his thrusts is making his brain feel all cloudy. — He’s sure the eye contact he’s keeping is transparent in the fact that he’s turned a little love drunk. Ducking his head to press tempered kisses on your throat, but he can’t help himself from the way his lips skim up to your ear and his mouth moves without him really thinking about it.

It’s a pleasure induced haze, he’s sure. But he can’t be forgiven for the absolute filthy things he’s saying to you.

“You hear that?” He drags in a few particularly forceful thrusts that make you sob so prettily for him. “You’re really soaking me up, huh.”

“Is it that good? You feel me deep in your tummy?” Kiyoomi swivels his hips. “S-Shit. What a pretty fucking noise that just was. Fuck, baby. - Oh, are you crying?”

“Too much?” But even still he presses more of his weight on you until every thrust is hitting you to the hilt. So deep that every other press of his hips forces a yip out of you that makes his face hot. — He’s really starting to think he might be ruined for anyone else at this point.

“You’re g’nna take it for me anyway though, huh? Slutty baby… You’re gonna let me fuck you brain dead? Fuck you till you’re all stupid for me?”

You sound as far gone as he is. “Y- Yes! Yes!”

“Yeah, that’s it, angel. Such a… fuck… good fucking girl for me.”

You must be close to cumming cause you’re really starting to milk him for all he’s worth. Sucking him back in every time he pulls away and every moment he continues to fuck into you you only get tighter.

He’s losing his mind. “Ohhh fuck. Fuck! I swear to god I’m gonna break you. G’nna - shit - gonna fuck you till you’re all mine, yeah? H-Holy shit-“

Kiyoomi groans at the way your fingernails start to dig groves into his back. “Mhm. Mark me up, angel. Wanna see you all over me when we’re done.”

You grab a helping of his hair and hold on to it for dear life, you’re drooling at this point. “Oh my god… oh m’ god, Kiyoomi… I’m- I’m gonna make a mess!”

“Yeah?” Which obviously means he’s reaching down to rub messy circles on your clit. “Gonna make a mess? Wanna soak me in your pretty cum?”

“Give it to me then, baby. I’ll fill you up so good when you do.”

You croon in his ear and it sounds like gospel.

And then you’re soaking the bed with your cum.

Kiyoomi doesn’t let up even as your juices wet down his pelvis and legs. He doesn’t stop his punishing thrusts or the rhythm he’s keeping on your clit, still whispering words of filth and praise in your ear, — and it looks like you’ve completely lost yourself to the pleasure at this point. The way his name is clipping so desperately off your tongue is making his eyes roll into his head. And it’s just a few more moments of fucking into your spasming pussy till he’s following you off the edge.

“Oh god. Oh my god.” He hisses. “Mmmh - Oh fuck, baby. I’m cumming… f-fuck! I’m cumming. I’m cumming.”

Oh god, even after last night there’s still so much of it. So much and so hot. Just the feeling of clenching on his hot cum as he continues to fuck into you is sending you over the edge again. God, the sounds you’re both making. Thank goodness his penthouse is big enough to not worry about disturbing any of his neighbors, reinforced flooring probably snuffing out the sound of your debauched love making. He’s never been the most vocal in bed but you’re making him whine into your ear like a cheap whore. And the sounds you’re making - Fuck, the sounds you’re making, he wouldn’t be surprised if he turned his head and found the decorative plants near his terrace sprouting flowers. It shouldn’t even be possible to sound that fucking good and feel this fucking amazing all at once.

Kiyoomi doesn’t even realize that bed making firm clicks into the wall until he starts to slow up his thrusts. Gradually coming down from his high until his desperate movements become slow and sensuous grinding, still rocking into you even as you settle again in his arms.

He lifts his head to bring you into a lazy kiss, a little sloppy, a little butterfly inducing.

You sigh into his lips. “…Holy shit.”

Kiyoomi pulls away to press a few slow kisses into your jaw. “I think I just might be addicted to you.”

“You’re telling me…” You cross your legs over his back. “Is it too early to suggest we go steady?”

He snorts a little. “As if I’m letting you go anywhere after that.”

Kiyoomi raises his back to gingerly kiss you on the lips, so tender it feels loving. Even as he pulls away he seems ailed by it. He is ailed by it. He can’t even imagine how he’ll fare when he has to get up eventually.

His breath is warm against your lips. The way he speaks to you feels reverent. “You’re stuck with me now.”

You smile. And he goosebumps. “Aren’t I lucky then?”

reblog uwu?

[katsu28]

Hi, I really like your writing! I had an idea for a fic with Lando. He left school really young (he got tutored privately afterwards according to wikipedia) and mayhaps that could make him feel insecure or something along those lines if he has a significant other that is in university, maybe studying to get a bachelors or masters degree. School is not everything and does not accurately measure intelligence or anything else but it is still a standard that most people hold and compare themselves too. It's something that I know all to well, which is where this idea came from. Whatever you do with it thank for reading it!💖

thank you for trusting me with your idea <3

lando norris x reader, r is in an unspecified master's program, 1.5k.

Lando loves how smart you are.

He tells you all the time. When you’re stressed from the intensity of your master’s program, nervous about an exam, or most of the time, just randomly. He’s proud of you for taking on something he definitely doesn’t have the brains for, and for absolutely crushing it so far. 

He left school before even completing his GCSEs in year 10, just so he could focus on racing full time—a decision he’d never regret, but always wondered about.

What would his life have looked like if he hadn’t devoted it to pursuing a career in racing? Would he have finished secondary school? Made it to university?

He doesn’t even know what he would’ve studied. 

Granted, he was never really good at school to begin with, but things could’ve changed. Now don’t get him wrong, he would never change a thing, but that didn’t mean he never thought about what might’ve been. 

So yes, Lando loves how smart you are, but if he’s being honest with himself, it does make him feel a little insecure about his own intellect.

-------

Lando finds you in your workspace when he gets home from padel with Max. 

He’d turned one of his guest rooms into a sort of office slash study space for you when you moved in with him all that time ago, a place where you could get your work done in a quiet environment whenever you needed to. The space itself was one of the smaller rooms, but still bigger than you were used to, and decorated to perfection too. 

A standing desk with an ergonomic chair (better for your neck and back, he’d said, so you weren’t hunched over your books all the time), a smart blackboard on one wall for any necessary brainstorming, a comfy chair in another corner—all overlooking the Monte Carlo cityscape from massive floor to ceiling windows. Everything else has been up to you, but Lando wanted nothing but the best for his smart girl. 

He pads in silently, making his way over to where you're furiously typing at your computer to press a kiss to your cheek. You flinch a little, startled out of your own world at the action. Your eyes fly to his, wide, before your posture relaxes again. 

“Oh, hi! Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in,” You breathe, giving him a short kiss on the lips this time. 

“Didn’t mean to make you jump like that, darling. My bad,” He chuckles. He leans over your shoulder, squinting at the diagrams on your screen. “What’s that?” 

“Oh, it’s—” You pause, flicking through a few pages of the textbook next to your computer. Your lips twist to the side in thought, and then you smile at him in what he’s sure you meant to be an assuring way. “Nevermind, you probably wouldn’t get it.” 

He knows you don't mean it as a dig or anything, but the brush off ignites a bitter taste on his tongue. And if there’s one thing about Lando, it’s that he feels everything extremely strongly. “Well I’m sorry, not all of us can be geniuses.” 

“Pardon?” You look genuinely stunned at his outburst, at this huge 180 degree turn his mood has taken within the last few seconds.

Then he can't help the words tumbling out of his mouth next. “I get it, alright? ‘Lando doesn't know what I’m talking about, let’s make Lando feel dumb!” 

He storms off before you can process his stinging words, but even then, the anger that had just flared up in him has already dissipated. Lando knows all of it comes from a place of insecurity, that little nagging feeling at the back of his brain telling him that even though he’s happy where he is, happy doing what he does for a living, he could’ve made something different of himself. 

You leave him alone for a while before coming to find him, presumably to let him cool off. He feels awful about what he said now. Honestly, he hadn't even meant to say it out loud, doesn’t know why he said it. It’s not like he meant it. 

A knock from the doorway of the bedroom draws him out of his guilty thoughts, and he looks up to see you hovering just behind the threshold. He hates how you look hesitant to approach him. 

You press your lips into a thin line once his gaze meets yours. “Can we talk about what just happened?” 

“It’s nothing. Just forget I said anything.” 

“It’s obvious you’ve been holding onto those thoughts for a while, so no, Lando, it’s not nothing.” 

“I don’t wanna fight,” He mumbles, eyes glued to his fiddling fingers. You seem to notice his sudden quietness because your expression softens as you cross the room to sit next to him. 

“We’re not fighting. You’ve got something on your mind, and I want to know so I can help,” You reply, shifting to face him. He can tell how you're trying to keep your voice as level as possible. “Please let me help.” 

Lando chews on his bottom lip, unsure. You say you want to help, but he's worried that if he tells you what's really going on, you’ll think it's silly. It is silly, really, him feeling insecure because of how smart you are. But if he doesn't tell you, you’ll think he doesn't trust you, and he does trust you. He trusts you with everything. 

Then you say his name again, softer this time, and you’re looking at him like you’ve done something horrible, and he sighs. 

“Sometimes I feel like I’m not smart enough to be your boyfriend. You get all excited about your research when you talk about it,” He sighs, shrugging clumsily, “and I want to understand it because I wanna be able to get excited about it with you, but I just don’t get it. And it makes me feel stupid.” 

“I didn’t—Lando, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know. I didn’t mean to, I—” 

He shakes his head forcefully, grabbing both your hands in his. “No, that’s not what I meant. You never make me feel stupid. It’s my problem, really. I just…I’m not really known for my brains, yeah? Came to terms with that a while ago.” 

“You’re smart, Lan,” You insist, brows pinching in the middle. “You’re so smart, what’re you even talking about?” 

“We talking about the same person here? I never even finished school. Wasn’t too good at it before I left either.”

“There’s more than one way to be smart, y’know,” You continue. Lando tilts his head curiously, not unlike a puppy would. “You’ve got amazing people skills, you’re creative beyond anything I could’ve dreamed up, you’re well balanced with your emotions. Not to mention the amount of skill and strength it takes to do what you do everyday, at the level you perform at.” 

“No, but that’s different. I could never do what you do, remember all the stuff that you’ve had to.”

“And you think I could do what you do?” You ask, giving a disbelieving chuckle. “Genuinely, if I got put into the cockpit of your car, I wouldn’t even be able to start the bloody thing, let alone drive it the way you can when you’re being bombarded with information from all sides during a race. If you put me in front of a group of reporters, if I had to do even a fraction of the press appearances and sponsorship events you do, I’d probably shit my pants.”

Lando wrinkles his nose in slight disgust. “That’s nasty.” 

“It’s true though! I can’t do half the things you can, but that doesn’t make me any less smart. It just means we’re smart in different ways. So what you never finished school? School isn’t the only way to measure how intelligent you are. And Lando, you’re beyond intelligent.” 

His shoulders sag with the long sigh he releases, and he lists to the side, slumping over onto your lap. “Sorry for lashing out,” He murmurs, cheek pressed against your knee. He rolls over onto his back, gazing up at you with truly apologetic eyes. “I didn’t mean what I said, I was just being a dick.” 

You hum noncommittally, stroking a hand through his curls. “You’re allowed to have feelings, Lando, it’s alright.” 

“Yeah, but what I said was just mean, and I didn’t—I wasn’t thinking straight. You don’t deserve to be snapped at like that.” 

“Makes up for all the times I’ve snapped at you during exams, so…call it even?” You ask, leaning over him with a soft smile. 

“We’re even.” He lifts his head, craning to reach your lips, and you chuckle a little bit, but meet him halfway in a gentle kiss. 

It’s an I’m sorry kiss, a I forgive you kiss, a I’ll always support you kiss.

A no matter what you say, I’ll love you forever kiss.

This fact, Lando knows for sure, even though a little bit of him still thinks he’s not quite as smart as you.

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post new fics :)

[rcmclachlan]

RC, PLEASE share more BuckTommy headcanons with us, everything you’ve said about them so far has been glorious.

Headcanon 1:

After Buck calls Tommy about touring Harbor and they agree on a date and time, he starts researching. Every free second he has between calls is spent watching videos that walk through what all the switches and gauges on a helicopter control panel do. On his days off, he reads pages and pages of posts on r/flying. There are no less than eight biographies about pilots on his kitchen counter dressed in the colorful fringe of all his page markers at any given moment. He devours Chickenhawk in one evening, then falls down a Wikipedia rabbit hole that starts with the article on the Bell UH-1 Iroquois and spits him out when he finishes reading about a municipality in Baku, Azerbaijan called Bibiheybət just as the sun starts peeking through the windows.

The night before he's supposed to meet Tommy, he takes a practice PPL exam for shits and giggles. He doesn't pass, of course, but he scores better than he expected to, and he can't wait to tell Tommy. He can't wait to wow him with everything he's learned.

Of course, it's all for nothing, because Eddie swoops in and steals Tommy right out from under him before Buck can even ask Tommy about his thoughts on the FAA Reauthorization Act of 2024.

Once they make their relationship official, Tommy does make good on his promise to take Buck up, and it's so fun to watch Tommy navigate the skies like the helicopter is an extension of his body, like he's barely wowed anymore by the fact he can fly, and he even lets Buck handle the cyclic for a couple of minutes.

They're hovering almost 6,000 feet above city limits, watching the sun set in a sweet comfortable silence, when Buck's almost had his fill of looking at the clean lines of Tommy's profile, he says, "Someday, when I get certified, I'm going to do a Screwdriver Down in a MD-500."

Once Tommy has wrestled the bird out of its sudden 400-foot free fall and back into an even hover, he grips the cyclic until his knuckles bleed white and says, teeth clenched, "Evan, unless you want tomorrow's top headline to be 'Two LAFD Firefighters Die In Massive West Hollywood Helicopter Crash,' I'm begging you to keep the dirty talk to yourself until we're back on the ground."

Headcanon 2:

Tommy has seen a UFO. He's actually seen, like, four. The third time, he'd been flying over the San Gabriel Mountains when something popped up on his radar out of literally nowhere and clipped his tail rotor, sending both him and the craft crashing into the woods. 

He doesn't remember anything that happened after that. He woke up in a windowless hospital room where someone in full military dress blues shook his hand and congratulated him on becoming the first ambassador to outer space. Then he made Tommy sign approximately eight million SF-312s and consent to be called upon "if the time should ever come." 

This is why he can't watch sci-fi movies with a straight face.

Headcanon 3:

Back in 1996, Tommy's buddies Jamal Kluger and Mitch Henney finally convinced him to go to one of the weekly school dances, mostly because Jamal was determined to slow dance with Amanda O'Shaughnessy and he needed moral support. Tommy didn't hate dances per se. Were there a hundred other things he'd rather be doing? Yes. He had a backlog of Car and Driver that really needed seeing to, but Jamal was practically his brother and Tommy would do a lot worse than dispassionately swaying with a few of his classmates to Mariah Carey in the name of best-friendship.

He'd been in the middle of trying to get Jamal's attention—not that he was ever going to notice, because he was finally dancing with Amanda and everyone else in the gym had probably ceased to exist—with his hands hovering a respectful quarter inch off Laura Lee Moore's hips, who said she'd specifically requested Dreaming of You, when the slow turning they'd been doing put him at the perfect vantage point to see Brett Bennett, pitcher for the East Woodbridge Falcons, dancing with Vanessa Wilson.

Brett was wearing a really nice button-up shirt and Tommy's gaze kept snagging on the way his arms filled out the sleeves, and he couldn't help but wonder if Vanessa could feel the calluses on Brett's hands through her miniskirt. They were probably rough and kept snagging the fabric. Vanessa could probably feel the pull of them, like velcro trying to pry apart. He watched Brett lean down to say something to her and couldn't help but think Brett wouldn't have to strain his neck so much to talk if he were dancing with Tommy. They were almost of a height; Tommy would barely have to tilt his head down. Selena crooned I just want to hold you close, but so far, all I have are dreams of you, and Tommy's heart pounded so loud he was almost certain Laura Lee could hear it over the music. When the song ended, he awkwardly backed away from her and thanked her for the dance, his gaze on Brett and Vanessa, who were still pressed close even though the Quad City DJs were enthusiastically telling people to ride a train. According to his cousin Denise, who was a grade below him and also in attendance that night, Laura Lee spent the rest of the night crying in the bathroom because Tommy couldn't take his eyes off Vanessa.

Almost thirty years later, he and Evan are hanging on the couch, half-watching an episode of Taskmaster and reminiscing about their first crushes—"Really, Evan, your teacher?"—and when Tommy tells him about wishing he'd danced to Dreaming of You with Brett Bennett, Buck presses a sweet kiss to Tommy's arm and says, "Stop making me want to time travel so I can fight an eleven-year old."

Tommy laughs and says, "It was more wanting to slow dance with a cute boy in front of everyone than Brett himself. You have nothing to be jealous about. When we were in the eighth grade, he crushed up a bunch of Altoids and snorted them through a hollowed-out pen during social studies. I've never heard anyone scream like that in my entire life. They had an ambulance come for him and he never came back to school after that."

"Sounds like a real winner," Evan teases, tongue between his teeth. "You really know how to pick 'em."

"Yeah, it's a gift," Tommy deadpans, and then wrestles Evan, who's cackling like a hyena, into the couch cushions. 

Months later, Howie and Maddie throw a big party—which Howie's been calling Reception Redux in the OG 118 group chat—in Tommy's backyard, and he's in the middle of an unspoken chicken wing eating contest with Eddie—who's winning, and Tommy has no idea how he's putting them away so fast—when the music changes from some pop song he doesn't know to a familiar tinkle of piano chords. Howie strong-arms the mic away from the DJ and announces with a big grin that the song was requested by someone who wanted to "quote-unquote: dance with a cute boy in front of everyone."

Tommy almost chokes on the wing in his mouth, and he barely wipes the barbeque sauce off his fingers in time before Evan comes over, takes his hand, and pulls him onto the little dance floor they'd put down that morning in the flattest part of the yard. 

His heart pounds as Evan drapes his arms over Tommy's shoulders like it's the easiest thing in the world, pressing close until it feels like their bodies are merging everywhere they touch, and then starts to sway. Tommy slowly lets his hands settle on Evan's hips, firm and sure. He doesn't even consider doing the hover thing. 

As Selena sings about wishing on stars, Tommy closes his eyes and tucks his temple against Evan's, and for a moment they're in the East Westbridge Junior High School gym, which smells like sweat and cherry Lip Smackers and body odor, and across the room Jamal and Mitch both give him an enthusiastic thumbs up—and Mitch then does something obscene with his hands that has Jamal smacking him upside the head—because Tommy's dancing with the boy of his dreams in front of everyone while his stack of Car and Driver magazines sit unread and curling from the humidity. 

"If Brett Whatshisname shows up, I won't be responsible for my actions," Evan says warmly, voice soft against the curve of his ear. "Literally. I already cleared it with Athena."

I'll be dreaming with you tonight endlessly, the song promises, and Tommy opens his eyes in the present. He takes a deep breath, borrows the energy of Selena's vow, and pulls back just far enough to whisper against the corner of Evan's mouth, "Marry me."

[project-sekai-facts]

i recall some kind of theory or pointing out of the fact that tsukasa's focus sets have had him getting less and less authority each time, and with the role of a minor character, it seems to have been intentional

oh i remember a lot of players on JP and KR side pointing that out when Phoenix released! and yeah I think it's definitely true

he went from king -> commoner -> jester/circus performer (for the king) -> a shadow

actually i have a lot of thoughts about his new card and i doubt this set will get an official blog post so i might just ramble a bit. (ftr: haven't read the event yet, sekai.best isn't updating and i surprisingly haven't really found anything from looking through JP/KR side either). specifically, i have a few thoughts about tsukasa being a shadow in this card because it's actually way more than that. oh to be a media student

first off the costume name: phantasmagoria. according to wikipedia, this was an old form of horror theatre that involved projecting scary images. (it's quite interesting actually you can read the article here). the effects in phantasmagoria productions would be done using magic lanterns, the ones you slide a disc with a picture into so it projects it onto a wall. usually, they'd use rear projection, where the lantern is placed behind the surface it's being projected on (so the surface would usually be smoke or some sort of semi-transparent screen) to keep up the illusion (rear projection is how old movies did backgrounds for reference).

now here's where the light in the card comes into play. for starters, rear projection clearly isn't being used here because he's on the stage-thingy (that will be relevant later). also instead of the light shining at him as if he were the subject being projected, it's shining down on him. while partially this was definitely done in part for composition cool points (the composition on this card is so fucking good actually it has nothing to do with symbolism but like holy shit), it's very reminiscent of a spotlight. as i said, i haven't had the chance to read the event yet but i'm assuming this will connect with him having to play a minor role (or play the shadow as the gacha says) and still putting himself in the spotlight.

i like that idea actually because if you link the fact he's standing in the spotlight that means he is still casting a shadow. it may appear to the viewer as if he's the centre of attention - he's right in the light, literally hitting all the composition marks to make him the sole focus of the card - but he's still just a shadow in a larger phantasmagoria. and actually, the spotlight sort of goes around him, he's pretty much cast in darkness despite being in the light and i love how that reflects him being part of a smaller role or "shadow". he stands in the spotlight and puts on a great show no matter if he's truly the star.

lastly: the pose. now look at this 4koma where he does a bird pose:

familiar? while in this 4koma he's meant to be imitating an eagle, i can't help but notice some striking similarities in how he's posed.

also the gacha has a feather! specifically a black one. unfortunately since there are no actual birds on the cards, nor are there feathers, I can't tell you exactly what bird he is meant to be..,

although if you wanted to really grasp at straws then his last event was called Towards the Phoenix at the Sky's Edge the play from that event was called Happy Phoenix and both the play and the lead role in it are incredibly significant to Tsukasa personally and he ended up cast as the lead role in that play and even though the lead role isn't the phoenix that bird is still significant to him in some way.

also going all the way back to the original point of his class decreasing with every set i think while yes in this set he has been reduced to nothing more than a prop, or even less so a mere shadow, but at the same time if you chose to go with that incredibly reachy phoenix idea, it's a comeback. the phoenix rises from the ashes, tsukasa can be reduced to nothing and still be the star owning the spotlight, the most powerful one in the room. hell, he's still on a stage despite everything. i think it's super neat actually that despite this being him at the lowest rank, he's actually in the place where he belongs.

i believe i've only briefly mentioned it in passing on this account before, but theatre is his life. above all else Tsukasa is an actor and the stage is where he thrives. i think it's so interesting how with each set he loses authority, but he also gets closer to being on the stage. the king is at (well, near) his castle where he leads (link to WMS), Torpe is at his piano where he performs (link to Dazzling Light), the Jester is at the circus where he performs, and then you get the one that's hardest to define as any set character. it's not a king or a pianist or jester, it's just some performer on a stage. this time there's no character, and it's not just "some performer" because this is tsukasa. it's still another role, but this time the role is, as the event synopsis states, more "real". this is tsukasa where he belongs, he never needed any sort of power or to play the role of another performer in order to shine because he himself is a performer at his core. Torpe is a performer, but Torpe is not Tsukasa. Tsukasa is Tsukasa, and Tsukasa is a performer. Something like that.

sekai.best please update

[a-very-tired-jew]

Let's Talk Expertise

This will anger some people, like my age post did, but it also needs to be said and is about something I have been seeing consistently. If you are in your undergrad and taking major courses, you are not an expert on the subject material, let alone the profession itself. You are a student who is just building their foundational knowledge for your chosen field. You have not accumulated enough knowledge on the subject matter to speak from a place of expertise, nor have you learned enough to parse through the nuance of your chosen field or reached any of the milestones to be considered as such. There's a reason why we actually have an expertise system here in the USA that is paired with the legal system and our government employment system. If you go onto a government job site and look at their listings you will see some combination of Degree, Degree + Experience, Degree + Equivalent Experience and Amount of Time. What does this mean? It means that if a job is asking for someone with a Master's degree in a specific field they will consider individuals with the appropriate degree, but they will also consider people with a Bachelor's degree and the equivalent amount of time and/or experience in their field that makes them as knowledgeable as the MS candidate. The reason for the Time/Experience component is that not everyone pursues a graduate degree, but that does not mean they lack the knowledge required. However, there is an equivalency in Time/Experience to those graduate degrees and the special knowledge they impart. This gets even more complicated in higher levels when a position is asking for a PhD + 10 years of experience, that means a BS might be right out unless they have 20+ years of experience and an MS might need 15-20 years alone. In my time as a professor I have seen scores of undergrads present themselves as their major professions when they haven't even finished their junior year. Sometimes it's benign so that they can puff up in mixed company. Other times? Not so much. Several years ago I saw an undergrad present themselves as a psychologist that was "recovering traumatic memories" and got a multitude of people falsely accused of various violent crimes. This culminated in several court cases where the student had to admit they were falsely representing themself as an expert and therefore falsely producing "evidence". In light of the ongoing conflict I have seen a number of blogs on here present themselves as historians/experts on various related subject matter, while openly admitting that they are undergrad students and/or do not work in any capacity relating to the material. The latter can be fine up to a point, but if you are not working in your field and it comes to being an expert according to the GS and/or Daubert Standards, you most likely are not making the cut. The person regularly publishing papers and working as the profession will be considered the expert over you. If all you have is a few papers to your name and no other activities relating to the subject...well it's not a good look to be considered an expert. "AVTP this is elitist! Not everyone can go to college/grad school on *subject matter*" That's right. Not everyone can go to school for psychology, history, ecology, polisci, let alone go and make it their career. These people are not experts then. Plain and simple. You don't get to call yourself an expert because you listen to podcasts or do deep dives on Wikipedia. (And note, this is not about the blogs who are posting about how they did a hyper fixation deep dive on frog naming nomenclature when they were in high school. I am talking about the persons who are presenting themselves as knowledgeable authorities and using phrases like "As a *insert specialist field here*" while they pick courses for their sophomore/junior/senior year.)

[tossawary]

I found a beaten copy of the "Star Wars: Shadows of the Empire" novel (set between Ep5 and Ep6) in the thrift store and I'm trying to read it. I thought, "Oh, this was written in 1996, so that's before the prequels or any of the more recent shows. Even if this isn't good, it's not a long book, and it'll be interesting to catalogue some of the differences in world building and vibes."

And then I actually tried to read it and, uh, I would call the writing "competent on a basic level but not sophisticated". Like, I was trying to read some of the "Jedi Apprentice" novels earlier and I guess I was expecting, hm, something a little more advanced than those books? It's serviceable! There are many turns of phrase that I enjoy! It's just not as compelling stylistically or in world building as I might have hoped. And it wasn't long into the book before I was like, "Oh, right. Ah. Hm. I forgot what it was like to read Older Sci-Fi Written By A Straight Man. Of course, the main villain has a human-looking killer droid assistant who looks like a sexy blonde woman! Of course he does! Of course!" None of the characterizations are great, but the Leia POVs are making me since.

I'm having trouble taking the main villain seriously because he's just... he's just not interesting. Prince Xizor's secret backstory where his family's deaths were Darth Vader's fault are revealed to us in Chapter 3 via narration, he's just thinking about it, and it's like, "Well, that seems like it could have been saved for a more dramatic reveal later." And generally, he's such a Batman Gary Stu of a character so far: he's an unfathomably wealthy businessman, he's also an interstellar crime lord, he's also a master of martial arts, he's got an impeccable poker face, he's Vader's rival, he knows everything because he has spies everywhere, and the narration takes the time to tell us twice in 3 chapters that he is (and his species is) very, very sexy. Reader, you MUST know this. Trust us.

And I was reading these descriptions of him thinking, "This style of introduction reminds me almost EXACTLY of something else... but what...? OH. He's getting introduced like a HARLEQUIN ROMANCE NOVEL MALE LEAD." Which is super funny because Wikipedia claims this villain is supposed to try to seduce Leia later in the book; an attempt that the publishers apparently wanted to be successful but the author refused to do, fearing fan backlash. Which is just... thank fucking goodness, I WOULD have been pissed off, yes. WHY would Leia fuck this guy? Everything about him suggests she would choke him with a chain like she will with Jabba the Hutt. Let this woman have her loser smuggler with a heart of gold boyfriend!!! I hope she gets to shoot at this guy for a seduction attempt, but that won't make up for how incredibly boring this character is to read about in his every single scene.

[ofstoriesandstardust]

but this is getting good now (j.h.s.)

a/n: i have slowly but surely been working on this and I have to say, I'm pretty happy with how it turned out

summary: Almost and assumptions, until there is nothing but proof.

second star to the right (and straight on 'til morning) masterlist

folks who wanted to be tagged: @memeorydotcom @djs8891

warnings: insecurities, alcohol but everyone is of age, kissing

word count: 4k

You sigh, crossing your arms as you lean back in your chair.

“Do you really want my honest opinion?”

His eyes are a cautious hopeful as he bites his bottom lip. “…Yes?”

“Jake, this is shit.”

He groans, sliding down in his chair. “I know.”

The two of you sit in silence for a moment as you both look at the paper, contemplating how to not make it shit.

“Hey, do you uh, do you wanna-”

Jake never finishes his sentence as the door to the Center opens, Bradley popping his head in. “Hey, you done?”

You miss the sour look that settles on Jake’s face at the sight of him as your eyes flicker over the clock. “Another half an hour?”

He groans, stumbling into the room. “I’m stealing candy then.”

You shake your head, a smile growing on your face. “Go right ahead.”

“Dude, Seresin, you practically live here.” Bradley says through a mouthful of M&Ms. You roll your eyes at the words, despite the nugget of truth in them. 

Over the course of the last few weeks, Jake had spent more time in the Center than not, bringing multiple drafts of any and every assignment to you. It’d gotten to the point that if any of Jake’s buddies from the football team needed him, they’d come looking for him in the Center before they checked the field. 

“Shut up Bradshaw.” Jake says, eyes trained on his computer. 

Bradley shrugs. “Just saying. Do you want to come over for dinner on Sunday? Mom’s asking about you.”

It takes you a minute to realize Bradley is talking to you and you glance over at him. “Yeah, I guess. Jake, you can not cite Wikipedia.”

He groans again. “It was the only thing I could find!”

“This is our mid-term Jake. This is important.” 

-

“Are you really doing homework on a Sunday?” Nick says, coming into the kitchen, arms full of groceries. 

“This thesis isn’t going to finish itself, unfortunately.” You mutter, deleting a sentence on the screen. Bradley picks up one of the articles you have laid out on the Bradshaw’s kitchen island, squinting at the title. 

“What does that even mean?”

“I don’t know.” You groan, dropping your pen to press the heels of your palms into your eyes. “I don’t know and I think Jeff is trying to kill me.”

“You know what would make you feel better?”

“What?”

He lets out a little laugh, trying to contain his teasing grin. “Making out with your new football buddy.”

You narrow your eyes, taking the article out of his hands. “Would you cut that shit out? Jake doesn’t like me like that. I’m just his tutor.”

Bradley scoffs. “Yeah, sure, okay.”

“I’m being serious!”

“So am I!” Bradley protests. “Seresin has like… the fattest crush on you.”

“Shut up, Bradshaw.” You mutter, turning your eyes back to the computer. 

Tom lets out a throaty laugh, prompting you to raise your head to catch Pete’s pained look.

“Something you’d like to share with the class, Pete?” Carole teases.

He gives a jerky shake of his head. “Nope. Nothing. I know nothing.”

The adults let out a round of laughter as Bradley pulls out the chair next to you, collecting some of your articles. 

“I saw your Mom at the store with Dad.”

You pause, the cursor on the screen blinking back at you. His words are soft, unable to be heard by the adults who have since moved on in the conversation.

“Apparently, she’s got a boyfriend.” He mutters.

“Good for her.” 

“When’s the last time you talked to her?”

You give a shrug of your shoulders. “Don’t remember honestly.”

He sighs. “Maybe it’s for the best. She didn’t have anything nice to say.”

“She never does.”

-

Jake sighs three separate times before Javy shuts the lid of his laptop, a bit aggressively. 

“Alright, I’ll bite. What is up?” 

“I fucking hate that guy.” Jake says with a shake of his head, looking back down at his statistics notebook. 

“Who?” 

“Stupid curly hair. Stupid charming smile. Stupid baseball player.” 

“Who, Jacob? Who?” 

“You know Bradley Bradshaw?” 

Javy raises his eyebrow, unimpressed. “‘Course I know Brad, he’s one of Nat’s best friends.” 

“Yeah, well he’s a fucking asshole and I hate him.” 

“What the hell did he ever do to you?” 

Jake can’t bring himself to say anything, scribbling angrily in the margins of his notebook. Unfortunately, his best friend knows him too well. 

“This wouldn’t have anything to do with your pretty tutor you seem to be spending a lot of time with lately… would it?” 

He can hear the smirk in Javy’s voice, even without looking at the boy. 

“Fuck off, Machado.” He says with a groan, leaning back in the booth as he crosses his arms. He waits a beat, Javy looking at him expectantly before crumbling. “Can you blame me Javy? He fucking picks her up after all her shifts, has Sunday dinners with her… I fucking hate him for getting her before I even had a chance.” 

“They’re not… they’re not dating, you know that right?”

Jake snorts. “Save my pride Javy.” 

“No, no I’m serious, they aren’t.” He says with a shake of his head. “She lives next door to Bradley. Nat said they went to high school together and grew up across the street from him or something. That’s why she goes over there sometimes.” 

“Huh.” 

He’s incapable of saying anything else, mentally reviewing all the interactions he’s seen you have with Bradshaw. They’d never been more than platonic, but he would admit that Bradshaw already pissed him off enough as it was and his jealosuy flared whenever you were around him. 

“You should just ask her out on a date man, you clearly have a thing for her.” Javy says, shaking his head as he types out numbers into his calculator. 

“I can’t do that.” He says with such certainty Javy has to pause and take a deep breath through his nose. 

“And why not?” 

“Because there’s no way in hell she’d say yes.” 

Javy lets out a chuckle, looking up at him. “You’ve never had any problems before now.” 

“This is different.” Jake hisses. “She’s really kind, and sweet, and smart, and I- she’s so far out of my league.” 

Javy rolls his eyes. “Suit yourself Seresin. But don’t come moaning and moping to me about it. You dug this hole for yourself..” The words carry no real weight, both knopwing Javy would always listen. “What did you get for number 8?” 

-

“Thought you’d be on a beach somewhere.”

You look up, catching sight of Jake. “Hey.”

“What’re you doing in the library over fall break? Shouldn’t you be somewhere tropical with your phone turned off?”

“I have Pete’s paper I have to finish. He gave me an extension and I’m pushing my extension deadline as it stands.”

Jake raised an eyebrow. “You aren’t done?”

You shake your head. “Almost though. I just have to proofread it and then submit it. Why are you here?”

“Have to return a book I used for our mid-term. Plus, I was already here for an extra weight lifting session, so thought I’d come by.”

It’s the first time you take a minute to recognize what Jake is wearing. He’s a bit sweaty, muscle tank damp. 

Even then, you can help but eye the way his biceps look, imagining the way he must’ve looked while- 

No.

You shake your head, clearing the thought as you meet his eye again. 

“Well, it was good to see you Jake.” You say with a quick smile, looking back to your computer. 

It was beyond inappropriate to think of someone you tutored like that. Absolutely not. 

“Hey, uh…”

You look back up to him, watching him fiddle with his gym bag. 

“Do you have any plans for the rest of break?”

You shake your head. “No. I’m technically not working but if there’s something you need me to look at, I’m ha-”

“No!” Jake protests quickly. “No, no, no. No, I was going to uh- ask if you wanted to do something.”

You blink at him. “Yeah, sure I guess I’m free. What do you have in mind?” 

He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “I, uh, well I kinda need a pumpkin for this carving thing the team is doing. Would you, uh, want to come with me?”

“You… you want me to go to a pumpkin patch with you?” 

“Yeah.”

“I mean… yeah okay.” You say a little dumbfounded.

You weren’t a fool, you knew Jake was attractive. You’d be blind not see it. 

But you knew that you weren’t the girl Jake would be with. You knew it in the raised eyebrows in silent question his teams mates gave him when he said hi to you in the dining hall, knew it in the smirks girls in your History class would give you when Jake started sitting with you. 

You might be Jake’s tutor, and dare you even say friend, but you knew one thing to be true. 

You’d never be Jake’s girl. 

The smile Jake offers you, though, is worth a weeks worth of dirty looks and snide sneers. 

“Great! How does tonight sound? I found a patch about 45 minutes away, has some cute fall stuff we could do if you wanted? I’ll drive.”

“I- yeah.”

You wanted to cringe at the sound of spending hours alone in a pumpkin patch, doing fall activities that you always thought you’d do on a date with someone. 

It hurts in the worst way, feeling like you’re watching a life you could’ve had, had you been someone else.

“See you at 6 then, kid.”

-

You shut the door of Jake’s truck behind you as you both step out on to the farm about half an hour outside of San Diego. The evening air is much cooler than it is in the city, offering a bit of a bite as you wrap your coat around you tighter. 

“Where’d you find this place Jake?” You ask as you take in the cozy environment, the corn maze not too far away, the the apple bobbing and hay rides that are consumed by giggling children. 

“Bradshaw’s Mom told me about it. Apparently, they’ve been coming out here since he was a kid.” 

You nod as Jake rounds the truck, stopping next to you. You’re sure Carole has shown you pictures of baby Bradley, rosy cheesks as Nick stands there, both with grins so wide. 

The pictures had made your heart ache in the way hearing Carole or Nick talk about Bradley’s childhood always had. 

There was so much love and laughter you’d missed out on, so much you never got to have, something you longed for.

Relationships you knew you’d never have with your own parents.

Jake clearing his throat breaks you from your musing, bringing you back to the present. 

“So, what should we do first?” 

-

“I don’t think your pumpkin is big enough.” You say, a giggle laced through your words as the two of you walk (well, really, Jake is more waddling) to sit down. He heaves a sigh as she sets the rather large pumpkin on the hay. 

“I want to win.” He says with a sigh, draping hismelf over the hay bales. 

“What do you win?” You ask, sitting down next to him. 

He opens his eyes, but doesn’t say anything, just watches you. 

“Jake?” He hums, not tearing his eyes away from you. “What do you get if you win?” 

He shrugs. “Nothing too crazy, I hope. Reuben is organizing the whole thing which just makes me more concerned for the losers.” 

“Well, what would you want as a prize?” 

He swallows, eyes gleaming. “Well, I could think of a few things.” 

You raise an eyebrow, feeling your cheeks go warm as you realise just how close Jake is to you.

“I-” 

“Seresin!” Someone hollers, causing both you and Jake to turn.

There’s a few boys standing a bit away, all grinning. And then there’s Bob, one of Natasha’s friends you’ve gotten to know through Bradley. 

Bob serves as an athletic manager for the football team, maybe against his better judgement, given the exasperated look in his eyes as the boys make their way over to where you’re sat with Jake.  

“What’re you doing here, Seresin?” One of the boys asks. 

“Getting a pumpkin for our carving party?” Another inquires. 

Jake coughs, looking over at his pumpkin. “Yeah. Um Kenny, Chad, this is-” 

“Shit, are you on a date dude?” Chad asks, eyes growing wide. 

“No-” Jake amends, a bit too quickly, but Chad keeps talking. 

“Sorry, sorry didn’t mean to interrupt. Don’t let us stop you from letting you hit it-” 

Bob cringes as you close your eyes, cheeks aflame in embarrassment. “Actually, we were jst leaving.” You say abruptly, standing up from the hay. “I’ll meet you back at the truck, okay?” 

“Wait-” Jake protests as Kenny offers up a botched apology, chuckling his way through the statement. 

You reach up, rubbing at your face to make the tingly feeling go away as you blink back hot tears. 

You knew this would happen.

-

You adjust your dress nervously as you ring the doorbell, pack of White Claws in your hand. 

You didn’t even like White Claws but what is one expected to show up to a party with? Nothing?

You aren’t sure if the noise of the doorbell has been heard over the music that’s so loud you can feel it through the porch and are about to ring it again (or maybe give up and hide in your car) when the door opens. 

It’s Jake. 

He gives you a blinding smile, ushering you in the house. “You came!” He shouts over the noise.

You nod, eyes flitting over his costume as your hands become sweaty. “Yeah, I- I uh brought this. Wasn’t sure if it was appropriate to show up empty handed.” 

He smiles again, taking the box from you. “Nice. Nice costume, by the way.” He winks, disappearing into the crowd as you stand there like a deer in headlights. 

There’s a warmth spreading through your cheeks that has nothing to do with the seltzer you’d chugged in your car before ringing Jake’s doorbell.

You spot your friend Maria in a corner, refilling her drink and you begin to push your way through the crowd, each dressed up in a different costume, each wearing less clothes than the last. 

You feel more overdressed than you have in your life and that’s saying something considering how short this dress really is. 

You tug on her arm, catching her attention as she smiles. “Hey-”

“Give me this.” You say, taking the drink out of her hand. “I need to get drunk.”

“What-”

“Jake dressed up as Peter Pan. Maria, what the hell is in this? It smells like gasoline.” You say as you shove the drink back in her hand. She peers in it, blinking like she’s not really sure what was in it either. 

“You wouldn’t have liked it anyways.” She says, before a ghost of a smile appears on her face. “So you and Jake, huh?” 

“Shut up.” You mumble, cheeks going red. “I didn’t mean to. Wendy Darling was what I threw together at the last minute.” 

Jake had texted you at 3:08pm, asking if you were doing anything tonight. 

And you had said no, like a smitten dumbass. 

So here you were, against the protest of your judgement and pile of homework, in a skimpy dress in half-assed attempt at Wendy Darling, in the hopes that Jake might notice you. 

A pipe dream, really. Especially given the fact you and Jake hadn't really talked since that night at the pumpkin patch over fall break. 

“Maria!” You hear Bradley’s voice over the music and you turn just in time to see Bradley squeeze his way through the group of people. “You said you were gonna come play beer pong twenty minutes ago.” She nods, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“I know, I know. Got distracted talking to this one.” She points to you and Bradley blinks, looking down at you. It looks like this is the first time he’s realised you’re there, which given how inebriated the boy seems to be, might actually be true.

“Let’s go play!” He shouts with a nod of his head towards the backyard, and with that him and Maria are gone. You glance around, biting your lip as nerves begin to grow in your stomach. There’s no sign of Jake, or really anyone else you might know.

You feel yourself back up further and further into the corner, biting on your fingernails as your eyes flit nervously through the room, wondering what you should do. 

Just as you’re wondering if you should leave (and drive away and never come back) a warm hand lands on your shoulder. You jump in surprise, looking up to see Jake towering over you. 

“Hey, what’re you doing over here all alone?” 

You shrug. 

“Well, why don’t you come play some beer pong with me out in the back?” 

You give another shrug. “I’ve never played, I doubt I’d be any good.” 

He gives you a grin, leaning closer to you. “Well, then you’ll be my good luck charm.”

The sounds of Monster Mash follow you out to the backyard as Jake begins to explain the rules of beer pong to you. 

“-and I know you don’t drink a whole ton, so I’ll drink if you’ll throw?” 

You startle at Jake’s words. “How did you-”

“Bradshaw!” Jake shouts, clapping the brunette on the shoulders, startling him and botching his throw. 

“2 v 2 after this?” 

Bradley’s eyes flicker over to you, a grin growing on his face. “On one condition.”

Jake quirks an eyebrow. “Yeah?” 

“Loser has to kiss their partner.” 

Your eyes grow wide at Bradley’s words, wanting to reach around Jake and throttle him. 

Jake titls his head as Reuben sets up the table again. “You’re on.” 

You splutter as Jake tugs you to the other side, a crowd starting to gather around the table. “Jake, the only pong I’ve ever played is of the iMessage kind, I don’t really know how good I’m going to be.” 

Jake shrugs. “Yeah, but Bradshaw and Maria are both hammered. I’m counting on their perception being so fuzzy they can’t land a single shot.” 

Despite your nerves the whole game, Jake ends up being right, with Bradley and Maria only landing three shots the whole game. 

Still, you can’t help the way your stomach flutters in disappointment at the fact that you don’t get to kiss Jake, although you’d never want it to be under these circumstances, where he has to kiss you because of a bet. 

Bradley shakes his head ruefully at you before, leaning over pressing a kiss quick peck to Maria’s cheek. 

Jake teasingly chastises Bradley that that wasn’t part of their deal as Javy takes your place in the pairing, Natasha replacing Maria. 

You get through another round, Mickey taking over Jake’s spot next before you’ve decided enough is enough, and it really had nothing at all to do with Chad’s appearance in the backyard.

“I think I’m gonna go.” 

Jake’s head shoots over to you as you lean over, getting closer to his ear so he can hear you over the music. 

“Yeah?” He asks. 

You nod. “Yeah, I’ve still got homework I need to finish. Thanks for inviting me though.” 

He smiles at you softly. “‘Course, I’m glad you came, I know this isn’t exactly your scene.” 

“That’s what she said.” Javy coughs into his fist as he walks past. 

Jake rolls his eyes. “Ignore him, he’s an idiot. Text me when you get home, okay?” 

You nod, ignoring the warmth spreading through you at his words. 

-

(1:13am- Did you make it home okay? I never heard from you.

Your heart jumps up into your throat as you peer at the text, unable to stop the smile that’s spreading across your face. 

Yeah, I did. Thanks for checking 

The bubble pops up a few times before a new text appears. 

Good to hear. 

Get some sleep. 

Goodnight.)

- You squint at the brunette over the top of your laptop, trying to process the words that just came out of his mouth. 

“I am not asking Jake out.” 

He groan, slumping down on the table in front of you. “Why not?” He whines, causing you to wrinkle your nose. 

“Becuase? It’s Jake? He’s a super popular football player who’s not going to be interested in dating his tutor? Get off this, please. You’re starting to piss me off.” 

Bradley studies you for a minute before he heaves a sigh. “Fine.” There’s quiet for a minutes as you turn back to your reading before Bradley speaks again. “Are you going to your Mom’s for Thanksgiving?” 

You shake your head. “No, she’s driving up north to go see my Grandma with my brother and my sister is spending the holiday at my Dad’s.” 

“So… do you wanna come over?” 

“For Thanksgiving? Sure.” You say with a shrug. 

Bradley smiles. “Wonderful, I’ll text Mom and tell her right now.” He says, fishing his phone out of his pocket. “You know who else is coming to Thanksgiving?” 

“I’d drop it if I were you Bradshaw.” 

-

“This is great as always Mrs. Bradshaw.” Natasha says warmly as Jake nudges you. You look up at him from where you’re cutting a piece of apple pie, Nick setting a scoop of ice cream on your plate, Jake nodding his head out to the backyard. 

“Let’s go sit.” You nod, grabbing the plate as Jake leads the two of you to sit outside. 

It’s still warm enough to dip your feet in the pool as the two of you sit near the edge, Jake having to roll up his jeans. 

“I’ll never get over Bradshaw having a pool.” 

You let out a little laugh, pulling the fork from your mouth. “You’re telling me. That was always the status symbol of wealth growing up. What?” You ask, realizing Jake hasn’t started to eat his pumpkin pie but is simply just watching you. 

“You look really nice today.” You feel a blush crawl up your neck as you glance down at your outfit. 

“Thanks.” You say, picking up your plate to eat, unable to meet Jake’s eye. 

It’s quiet between the two of you for a little while, the silence comfortable as you eat your slices of pie. 

“You know, Bradley keeps telling me the funniest thing.” You say as you finish the last of the pie, setting the plate back down on the ground. Carole really did make a killer apple pie, a wonderful combination of apples and cinnamon, the pastry dough always elevating the dessert. 

“What?” 

“He keeps telling me… God, it’s so silly.” You say, shaking your head. “He keeps telling me you have a crush on me.” 

Jake watches you for a second, and you realise telling Jake this may have been a bad idea, before Jake leans over you, pressing his lips to yours. 

It takes a minute for your brain to even realising he’s kissing you, but it’s a minute too long as Jake pulls back, eyes wide. 

“I’m- I’m sorry, I just wanted to know what that was like just once.” 

You don’t even realize what you’re doing until your doing it, leaning over and returning Jake’s kiss. Jake’s hands are already on your waist to steady you as you cup his cheek, getting to savor the way he tastes of pumpkin pie and the bourbon he had earlier. 

Jake cups your cheek as he pulls away, thumb gently rubbing over your cheekbone as he watches you. He’s looking at you in such a way that is making you blush, wanting to duck your head and hide from his gaze. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that.” He whispers. 

You swallow, already missing the taste of his lips. “Then why are we waiting any longer?”

[majaloveschris]

Hi Maja.

First of all, your blog is one of the only ones I’ve always felt was sincere, on point, respectful, and not toxic. I’ve always had a good feeling about you and how you are kind despite all the toxicity on here.

That feeling has never wavered and there is a big part of me that wants you to be right and win against these ridiculous anons that seem to want to put you down.

An opinion (which I don’t claim to be fact, just some thoughts here): I see a lot of takes on here popping up from blogs that claim they have PR knowledge and claim to be experts and read and follow along the gossip, but I think nobody really knows and they can only hypothesize on what they think is the truth.

I think CE being married (by public knowledge and Wikipedia) was the main goal here. I’ve always sort of felt this, which is why I ultimately was not surprised after he did his SMA spread that he went public with Fish girl and then later on “got married.”

The reason I say this is because HW and society is very judgmental and superficial. Being single or unmarried at a certain age always raises questions whether or not it is valid to do so. I disagree with this sentiment but unfortunately the world is how it is. It happens to regular people, so why wouldn’t it apply to celebs? Especially the ones who have basically become a pop culture icon of being an eligible bachelor/desirable.

Let’s think about this. After 2019, CE was no longer under the marvel umbrella. He had to start defining his post marvel career, and then Covid hit. So many things derailed. He randomly got an IG in 2020 but people found out it had existed as an account since 2019. Perhaps it was always the plan or it was a plan hatched by his PR team to keep him in the public eye. He became relatable internet BF with a Prince Charming storyline of when will he find the one? It was almost overkill from 2020-2022.

Now it’s 2024 and he’s supposedly been with this woman since 2021. It shows longevity and then eventual commitment. He now wears a ring in public so they see him as “settled down.” That’s the image he is now portraying for the public who doesn’t dig or care to deeper in his life.

I don’t think it’s about rebranding to attract a younger audience - if so, his pr team would have realized that gen Z actually does not fare well to age gaps and the subject of grooming and etc always comes up for this hypersensitive on PC/wokeness generation. Then add on the racism and weird ass crap from her/her friends. Definitely not boding well for a generation that lives on the internet and knows how to deep dive. His PR team would have looked at how the public reacted to other relationships like this and I feel, if it was simply he was in love with her and it was real real, would have told him to keep it on the DL DL until it was absolutely certain they had walked down the aisle. At that point, there would be no turning back.

But they marketed this before that happened. They wanted to portray her as the one similar to how in movies, they want to portray a main character and love interest as meant to be even if the audience may or may not receive it that way. How many times do we hear “this movie tanked because the leads had no chemistry and the relationship they wanted us to believe was not believable?”

But ultimately, the endgoal of if CE and his wife are a good couple or not doesn’t really matter. They have achieved their goal of he is now settled down and no longer on the market. If you choose to continue to follow him, stay for his career and not his personal life. Meanwhile, her - well, they’ll keep trying to make her happen because her end of the deal was getting more visibility and breaking into the American market. That much has been clear.

But you can lead a horse to water, you can’t make it drink.

What she chooses to do with the opportunities given to her are left to be seen. Also, how the public and CE/her fanbases chooses to receive them are also left to be seen.

Will this marriage last forever? I have doubts. But I do think they considered many options and this is what they came up with. I also don’t believe CE’s actions show he is very happy with the arrangement, even less so than fish is. Because even from the subtle clues from photos and “videos” - body language does not lie.

To be fair to fish, I doubt she’s in love with him either. I think she’s getting more benefits from this because most of the negativity is being directed towards him, not her. His fans hating and harassing her are just a pinnacle of what he’s receiving from his own fanbase. Some people will disagree with me but he’s the one getting the P and G and disgusting comments and being called the worst person on earth because he married her. His own fans are turning on him and her fans can also blame him but victimize her. The general public doesn’t care too much but will say how he looks because he got with her. She remains “innocent” of any blame because at the end, she is young and he is older so he should know better. Do you see what I mean?

Meanwhile, her fans are just happy she’s getting attention and somebody to fund her poor attempts at becoming a fashion icon. She lacks in talent and work ethic but it’s an easy way for her to get engagement by being attached to him.

The day this ends and she no longer has his name will be interesting and that’s what I think his fans (remaining) are hoping for. They don’t want to reward laziness and clout chasing opportunist and I too support this. They want HIM to be better and find success and love himself more so he doesn’t continue to end up in these shitty situations. But again, he has to want that for himself. He has to want to deserve better so he can work on actually deserving of better.

I hope I didn’t offend anyone with this opinion. Just my thoughts and I support YOU. I hope things work out in the end in your favor because you are a great person and I selfishly want you to be right (haha). ❤️

I completely agree with everything that you wrote down. 

I remember seeing people criticize him for saying he wants to get married and have a family, yet he is still single and childless. As you said, it's stupid that people are being bullied and judged because they haven't already settled down, even if they wanted to. Finding a partner is hard, and finding a partner in his shoes is even harder. I obviously don't know whether he actually wants all of that, but saying he must not want all of that because he didn't do so is not right. A lot of people struggle with finding a good partner. 

I never agreed with people calling him by the P and G words. I guess these people either don't know what those words mean or are simply that mad as Chris that they feel the need to spread lies. He is not those things and never was. Yeah, 16 years is a lot, but she was a grownup when they allegedly met, and I think people exaggerate when they say she looks like a child. 

I think the reason most people are hateful towards him is because they are disappointed in him. I think most people had an idea about the person he is based on the information we had, and him being married to someone like her or even dating someone like her doesn't really fit into that. People aren't disappointed in her because most didn't even know who she was before Chris. We were just presented with her actual self, and we didn't have any expectations from her. But we had for him. 

I doubt either of them is in love with each other. Alba doesn't seem that happy or comfortable around him either. I think this is just business for both of them.

I still think he is a good man who made a terrible mistake. I just hope the best for him, to be honest, which I know is an unpopular opinion now because it seems like wanting the worst for him is what is trendy nowadays. Maybe I'm naive; maybe I'm just holding onto an image, but I don't think the last 20+ years were a lie. I hope he will prove me right. 

Thanks for writing this down and for being there. ♥

[opashoo]

staring so kindly at your sluglang post,, as someone working on a language as well this looks fantastic (and is also. super organized compared to mine BHAHAH) Any tips for putting together a language? Like resources on how to go about it, or notes? /genq

You are staring kindly... (thank you)

As for tips... Wikipedia is actually one of my biggest, most useful tools, because I love to read articles about grammatical concepts, and they will usually have a varaiety of examples of use if you can figure out how to parse the academic language. There are some core ideas that pop up all over the place crosslinguistically, like case marking or converbs, and you can get a lot from learning how other languages might parse the same idea, both how they handle the idea grammatically and what kind of metaphorical language might be involved; like how in Scottish Gaelic, to say you have something, you say it's 'at' you, or how it doesn't have an exact equivalent of English's infinitive, or how Mongolian has so many word endings that convey meaning, and a bunch of them are literally endings stacked on top of other endings.

There's also really good conlang youtubers, like David Peterson, the one who made Dothraki and other pop media conlangs, Artifexian, Biblaridion. They have videos on both interesting grammatical concepts that don't exist in english AND how to integrate them into conlangs. Davide Peterson especially has interesting videos on things like sound changes, vowel harmony, phonological concepts that can really help shape your language and bring a degree of naturalism if that's what you're looking for.

Etymology can be extremely informative though, and really help you to understand exactly how creative people have gotten with language over the past thousands of years. Etymonline is a great website for that. Did you know that the word "next" was originally literally "nearest"? Or that that the suffix "be-" was originally "by", so words like "before" actually meant "by the fore", and very often these meanings are metaphorically extended to the way we use them today. It's great for helping to develop very important words that can be structural to your language, so that you're not just trying to raw make up a new word with no basis every time.

Aside from that, there's no single source I go to for making conlangs. Everything is on a case by case basis. Something that has been really helpful for me is constantly writing example sentences and finding things to write about, because similar to translating existing texts, it forces me to reckon with the way my conlang works, figure out how to convey certain ideas (or whether or not the language can convey the idea at all).

Usually I'll have a few languages that I keep in mind for inspiration for any given project and if I'm stumped or need an idea, I'll actually look up learning resources for those languages. My slugcat language has had me looking up a lot of "How to say..." in Korean, Arabic, Japanese Filipino, a little bit of Indonesian? Some Russian for verb stuff. Once I find resources, I spend a bit of time dissecting how it works in those languages and figure out how that can fit in the existing framework of my own project, or if it's something I'd even want in the project at all.

Once I have an idea, I'll just start iterating on it, usually on paper, basically brainstorming how the sentence structure and sounds might work until I find something that is both sonically satisfying and logically sound within the existing framework. If I'm feeling extra spicy, I might try to consider how the culture and priorities of the speakers might shape the development of the language. The important thing while doing this is, just like brainstorming, to be unafraid to keep throwing ideas onto the page no matter how unviable or nonsensical it may seem in your head. You NEED to experiment and find what doesn't work or else your brain will be too clogged to find out what does. Exercising your pen will help you get into the mindset of someone using the language (because you are), it'll help you form connections to other parts of the language you've already developed, and once you've developed enough, the language will almost start writing itself.

I've actually had some really interesting interactions happen my scuglang between the archaic system of suffixes, the position word system, and the triconsonantal root system, which actually gave rise to an entire system of metaphorical extension, letting speakers use phrases like "at a crossing of" or "at a leaving of" to mean across or away and also talk about concurrent events like "He talked while eating noodles" (He, at an eating of noodles, talked).

Anyway, I know I got kind of scattered but these are some of the big parts of how I approach conlanging! If I have questions or needs, I look to other languages, find learning resources, apply it, and then ask more questions. Spend time with your language and get familiar with it. There's the time I read "Ergativity" by Robert Dixon, but reading literal textbooks is not a requirement for conlanging. You just need to chip away at it and keep asking question.

Here's some photos of my own conlanging notes so you can see how serious I am when I say iterating and brainstorming are extremely helpful. You need to be throwing shit on the paper. I will handwrite three pages just to contradict myself on the next because those three pages were important for forming the final idea.

[supernovasilence]

Narnia headcanons: characters + how they take being sick

Peter: baby. Absolute needy baby. He's sick and he's miserable and everyone needs to feel sorry for him and take care of him. Will put on a good face in public because he knows the High King has to project strength and security but with family and friends he's just absolutely Suffering. The only time he's stoic is when he's seriously injured and doesn't want to scare his siblings (but then they're scared anyway because they can tell it's serious). Also so bad at not scratching scabs, bug bites, etc. All his siblings learn how to automatically say "Peter, don't scratch" whenever he has something they know he's going to pick at.

Peter: *absently starts picking at a scab*

Edmund, chucking a pillow at him from across the room without looking up from his book: peterdon'tscratch

Peter, indignantly: I wasn't!

Susan: the only one of the lot who acts halfway sensibly when sick. As long as she has a good supply of books and tea she will settle down and rest, though she does have a tendency of ignoring when she's starting to get sick. Running Narnia is a full time job; she can't afford to rest today, but tomorrow, or the day after, things will be quieter, and then ofc they never are. The others learn to watch when she starts getting extra snappy, because it means she's feeling bad and muscling through it, and they need to take some of her work off her hands so she can be convinced to go rest

Edmund: Thinks he'll enjoy the chance to lie around doing nothing but gets restless within a day, and then is grumpy and sulky. Like Susan, has a tendency to push himself when he starts getting sick, making it worse in the long run, except he's better at hiding it

Lucy: goes back to running around doing stuff the instant she starts feeling better, and then is worse again the next day. This happens every time and she never learns. Her friends/family make sure at least one of them sits with her when she's sick so they can make sure she stays in bed (imagine Mr. Tumnus playing her lullabies and telling her about all the magical sights and scenes they'll go see once she's better but that means resting first or the Beavers chattering away to her or Susan reading to her or Edmund telling her increasingly wild tales about what's supposedly going on in Narnia without her and occasionally physically sitting on her out of purest duty as an older sibling (Lucy: I can murder you without leaving this bed!) or Peter insisting he has to leave the busy everything that wants the High King's attention right this moment because he has an important matter to attend to and the important matter is cuddling his little sister and promising she can get out of bed soon or poor confused Caspian distracting Lucy by letting her teach him the rules of those hand-clapping games (a 30-second wikipedia dive also leads me to believe rock-paper-scissors would have made it to Britain by the 1940s))

Caspian: probably that one person who never gets sick. Even when a bug's going around and everyone else is hacking and snotty and miserable, he's fine and everyone hates him. The few times he does get sick, it's randomly in the middle of summer when no one else is sick and he hasn't gone out in the rain or done anything differently than usual and no one gets how he's sick now. Caspian is quietly melodramatic and just. resigns himself to death. Guilt trips people into taking care of him almost as much as Peter, except that he's not actually trying. Peter finds it very unfair people are sympathetic to Caspian and not to him

Eustace: whiny whiny baby and hypochondriac that convinces himself he's dying. Is lucky the internet has not been invented yet because he would end up on webMD, certain he has everything

[cerastes]

How do you rate the gacha booty shooter?

NIKKE sure is a game! It's the funnest mixed bag I've played lately. As a side game, it's been pretty good, because it's good at what it does good, and not terrible at its weak points, leaving you with a pretty "Ok :)" feeling overall.

So what's up with Nikke? Yeah, let's have a talk about that so I can explain a bit by what I mean with "fun mixed bag".

Nikke's setting is the same old tired, you've seen it a million times: Once day, humanity was almost decimated by a mysterious enemy that came out of nowhere... We call it... The Enemy! They were simply too strong, so humanity had to deploy its strongest weapons: Anime Girls. And you are the lucky Authority Figure that commands the Anime Girls to defeat The Enemy! But... The Enemy and Anime Girls have more in common than it seems...!?

Replace "The Enemy" with "Rapture", "Anime Girl" with "Nikke", Authority Figure with... Technically "Commander" but more on this in a bit, and you've got Nikke. In other words, the game's setting and premise are just a few word swaps away from being Punishing Gray Raven, Snowbreak, and a bunch of other properties. But here's the thing: Whereas Punishing Gray Raven tells you its story with all the charm and pizzazz of a Wikipedia article, and Snowbreak... Uh, stands there staring at a wall Blair Witch style because nothing ever fucking happens in Snowbreak, Nikke actually has good moment to moment flow. Allow me to elaborate.

Read More break here because I wrote a lot more than I intended:

Nikke has probably the dumbest premise to open with: The Nikkes are basically superpowered cyborg girls (war machines with human brains) that look like supermodels on purpose because they were created, in the game's own words, "with the ideal form in mind". That's all a wordy way of saying they are super hot girls with very powerful guns and superhuman physical capabilities. The dumb part is that Nikkes are treated like absolute shit in-universe by humans. You're telling me humanity is making cyborgs -- not even full on robots or AI, these are straight up people getting turned into weapons -- that are hot as fuck and have tits bigger than my head and asses that could crush cars under their sheer heft and then decided to hate them and treat them like shit, and also these cyborgs are the ones actually keeping humanity alive? Well yeah we need a reason for the Main Character (you!) to be Special and bond with them, so your thing is that You Don't Treat Nikkes Like Shit. In fact, you care for them.

Now, this is all absolutely fucking stupid, but then, the game sort of... Realizes how stupid it is? And some may say "this was always the plan" but to me personally it feels like they kinda realized how god damn stupid this all was as a premise, and they started veering the car mid-trip because for a while this all feels REALLY sincere, not in a foreshadowing way, but then you have some developments such as "no yeah, Commanders are a dime a dozen, are brainwashed into seeing Nikkes as walking garbage and that they'll be heroes, risk their lives for pennies and are extremely expendable", and there's also what I consider a really good and consistent thing the game has done: Nikkes were always a desperate last minute rushed product as a concept, so the safety measures in place so that they don't rebel against humans were never perfect.

This is what I mean by the moment to moment being good: The plot is absolutely whatever, the setting is something you've seen a million times, but the actual scene by scene, beat by beat, is fun. On the micro level, the game knows how to be entertaining and interesting, and when they expand these micro nuggets of gold to a macro level of writing, it's when they end up with their best bits of narrative and world building. I want to use two examples about the whole safety measures thing: Crow and Rose.

Crow is a Nikke that hates humans and is part of a squad of known dangerous elements that Missilis, the most irresponsible of the Big Three companies, is responsible for. This squad is Exotic, and Exotic works with you (your squad is named Counters) on this one mid-game chapter. The thing is, they never really intended to work with you, and Crow wanted you dead because Crow wants to spark a Human Vs Nikke conflict in the Ark (humanity's last big home), because you might quell the hostility between both sides. But, Nikkes can't intentionally kill humans (accidents happen and a Nikke may be ordered to subdue a human, but they are hardwired to not be able to shoot at them or kill them). So, how does Crow go about it when she betrays you? She has her squadmate Jackal plant a steel plate on the ground, and then shoots the plate in a way that the bullet ricochets and hits you. NIMPH, what's used to, among many other things, make sure Nikkes can't turn on humans, was so, so easily circumvented, and this is consistent with what we've been told about the Ark and Nikke in universe development in general: It's sloppy, it's lazy, it's not good. Rose, the other example, is a Nikke from a flashback story around a hundred of years before the start of the game. Rose was a prototype Nikke that was geared for melee combat instead of ranged combat, as all Nikkes are, and she was one of ten such units. Basically, Rose realized that their human Commander was intentionally trying to get them killed until one remained, which would be deemed the success of the line in Darwinian fashion. Rose got so immensely, justifiably angry at this that she plotted to kill the Commander. How can she do this, though, with the NIMPH that prevents her from doing so? Well, Rose was an actual swordmaster, and what she did was wear a blindfold, convince herself that what she was slicing was not a human, but a Rapture, and then she easily killed the shit out of him, unimpeded by her system. The NIMPH, end of the day, is sloppily made, highly dependent on the mental state of the Nikke, and easily circumvented. This is a very important plot point throughout the story, and the way they show this in multiple ways is really good.

Another thing I like is how the game goes about the player's title. It's technically "Commander" but the truth is, most every single Nikke calls you a different way relative to your relationship with them or their impression of you. Rapi and Anis some of the few that call you Commander, because they are in fact your subordinates, but Rapi says "Shikikan" while Anis says "Shikikan-sama" in a sarcastic way initially and after a while in an affectionately playful way, Neon calls you "Master" (Shishou) because she likes the way you use firepower, Liter calls you "Greenhorn" because you are, well, that in her eyes, Moran calls you "Partner" (Ototou, "little brother" in Japanese) because she's the head of a crime syndicate and she considers you as a cool person under her protection, the sports inclined ones call you "Coach", the school themed ones "Teacher", Viper, the flirty one, "Honey" or "Darling" depending on the scene, and so on, the old timey Scarlet calls you "My Lord", the religious Rapunzel uses "Believer", and the coarse, rough around the edges Snow White just uses "You" (Omae). It's a great touch that I like when it's done.

So, basically, you have a charming combination of a setting that's been overdone infinite times with plot beats that vary between legitimately good (the NIMPH and its logistics) and legitimately bad (Whatever the fuck Chapter 18 was, to name one case), and moment to moment that's really charming and entertaining.

The gameplay is honestly extremely unbalanced, and the sheer disparity in strength between units of the same rarity makes you wonder if they have anyone in the team that actually cares about balance, but honestly, putting the issues of balance aside? It's fun to point at stuff and shoot a million bullets and rockets, and they even get pretty creative with the fights sometimes in terms of enemy types and how they use them against you, so gameplay balance is awful, gameplay itself is suprisingly good for how simple it is.

I know people are going to be like "Dreamer, You Didn't Even Rate The Asses" so okay here:

First of all, the ergonomically perfect ass of the VIXEN that lured me into the game in a moment of weakness, Scarlet:

And next up, the Clothed But Massive Ass of Snow White

In fact, I appreciate the variety, because if it was just bare cheeks and panty shots, it'd be kinda whatever to me, but bodysuit ass and clothed but noticeably huge ass? Fresh, to be honest.

Also notable is that progress in entirely gated by passive production of resources and daily stuff because there's no stamina system. Bold!

But yeah feel free to ask more specific questions, but this is pretty much how I've felt about it.

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 7/30/2023

this post half brought to you by viewers like you! thank you!

listening

all my brain wants is charli xcx's apple on repeat. i understand there's a very popular dance with it but it's not H-O-T T-O G-O so i don't know anything about that. extremely effective song to have on loop while writing. peppy but very even and easy to just sort of bop along to in the background. looking forward to this being my #1 most listened song on spotify this year after the (DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT) number of hours last night working on yeehawgust.

thank you to my real-life sister for 1) teaching me about brat summer after i sent her a pic of the neon green pool outside and 2) telling me i would like this album. i do!

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reading

i saw a photo on here several weeks ago of Balfour Tower, a brutalist residential building in London where all the mechanics are in the little tower on the right and said to myself "what the FUCK is that. how does it WORK."

someone else who said "what the FUCK is that. how does it WORK." was JG Ballard, previous tuesdaypost feature. there are only two books i reread most years, Jane Eyre in the fall and Ballard's The Drowned World in the summer (one of the nicest vintage hardcovers i own, from @morrak ).

let's yoink the description off wikipedia bc it's the most succinct:

The story describes the disintegration of a luxury high-rise building as its affluent residents gradually descend into violent chaos. As with Ballard's previous novels Crash (1973) and Concrete Island (1974), High-Rise inquires into the ways in which modern social and technological landscapes could alter the human psyche in provocative and hitherto unexplored ways.

it's less "the building is evil" and more "by incentivizing residents to not leave the building by providing everything they need, including a liquor store, the building is a petri dish for fucked up british social interaction".

Ballard is extremely good, on a very technical sentence level, of creating an immersive cocoon of dreamlike unreality in the middle of an otherwise functioning world. this is Not good for my brain when i am having a particularly prolonged bout of The Morbs. High-Rise was extremely effective in creating its particular pocket of fucked-up happenings in the middle of the "real world" but was EXTREMELY not the book i needed at this particular moment.

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watching

The Burglars (1971, dir. Verneuil). this is a french heist film but i'm just going to drop my letterboxd review here.

do you want to see an all-in-one safecracking kit in a beautiful imitation leather suitcase straight from the catalog? with a computer to make a punchcard for the key cutting device also in the suitcase? do you feel strongly about emeralds? do you want to see a fuckin lupin iii style real life car chase where they run a little red fiat ragged? a man dumped out the back of a dump truck to fall down a slope half a mile long? do you want to see tits? do you want to see omar sharif get grain entrapped? this movie may be for you!

i would do anything for omar sharif and his big brown eyes.

the title sequence and a remarkably spare morricone soundtrack go SO hard. graphic design IS my passion!!!

how'd i find this: needed to use up some credits on kanopy. the gadgetry in the actual heist part of this film... mwah. a very poorly paced movie, but by god does it Look.

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playing

thank you VERY much @sybilius for gifting me Pentiment! i would describe this as a point-and-click/visual novel murder mystery rpg?

it's endlessly charming. it is dense with medieval sociopolitical factions. i would expect nothing less from je sawyer. i loooove the different fonts: the printer in town has a custom font for his dialogue, other characters' dialogue changes fonts as you learn more about them (a noble's font changes from scrabbly handwriting to fine lettering after we learn he's got some education under his belt).

much like High-Rise, but for visual novel pace reasons and not content/atmosphere, this is not quite the right game for my brain at this time, but i am very excited to loop back around to it when better brain weather rolls in!

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making

yeehawgust prep! i manage to do one prompt every other year but we'll see how this one goes

[agoodomenssideblogiguess]

I keep seeing posts about how snakes have bad vision and Crowley probably can't see the stars and that made me so sad. So instead of answering emails at work this morning, I looked up videos about snakes to figure out how they see stuff and I learned so much and the implications of these facts are ABSOLUTELY DELIGHTFUL:

(I'm putting it all under the cut because the post got long lol)

1. Snakes with vertical slits in their eyes are nocturnal.

2. Research suggests that snakes have the necessary receptors in their eyes to see mostly blues and greens (and any colors that are made up of those two) in the daytime and monochromatic (gray-scale essentially) in the night time. For reference, human color receptors in the daytime are red, green, and blue. For night it's monochromatic as well.

3. Some snakes have 'heat pits' along their pretty (pretty is subjective not a fact sorry) mouths that help them sense infrared light. The visual and infrared cues are overlaid in the optic parts of the brain. (Truly this is the coolest thing I've learned about snakes and I highly recommend reading the Wikipedia page about it, it is SO COOL). The heat pits work in such a way that if they don't cool down the receptors back to a 'thermal neutral' state (usually by providing extra oxygen to them) the snake will see afterimages even if whatever was giving off the infrared is removed.

4. Snakes smell with their tongues by picking up odor particles and then putting their tongue into little holes along the roof of their mouth where they have this thing called the "Jacobson's organ" that has receptors that can register the smells. To give you a sense of how sophisticated this sense of smell is, apparently snakes can tell which eggs have developing embryos in them in order to avoid them because it's easier to eat undeveloped eggs. (ISNT THAT INCREDIBLE?!?!)

IMPLICATIONS OF THESE FACTS:

1. Crowley can see at night because he's got them nocturnal snake eyes.

2. Crowley PROBABLY THOUGHT HIS HAIR TURNED BLACK WHEN HE FELL AND HE SAW HIS WINGS SORTA MATCHED. And unless someone has told him his hair is still red MAYBE HE STILL DOESNT KNOW

3. (Part 1) Nothing pisses me off more than that they didn't give Crowley's snake design heat pits along the lips because that would be so freaking cool to see in fanart of Crowley in like 'true form' or whatever cuz it would make him seem more "otherworldly" or "monstrous" but whatever. I'll forgive the designers because the heat pits he does have imply that he's a pit viper and also they're not visible on his human form (unless they're inside his nostrils?). Which means they're probably covered and don't cool back to 'thermal-neutral' properly so Crowley probably sees after images all the goddamn time (I'm gonna fucking write the saddest angstiest post season 2 fanfic for good omens called Afterimage BASED ON THIS FACT ALONE).

3. (part 2) because of how the regular vision and infrared vision are overlaid, anything that's warm/hot in temperature, like let's say an angel, probably looks like it's glowing. HELLO FANFIC AUTHORS WHERE ARE YOU?!? BLUSHING/FLUSHED AZIRAPHALE GLOWS BRIGHTER THAN NORMAL TO CROWLEY HELLO?!?!

4. When Aziraphale and Crowley kiss with tongue IF we give Crowley a Jacobson's organ, he would be OVERWHELMED WITH AZIRAPHALE. Imagine in every regular human sense, plus snake senses all of it is jUST AZIRAPHALE. Holy CRAP GUYS PLEASE (also like monsterfuckers/true form enthusiasts, the Jacobson's organ is just another fun snake feature you can include for funsies in your fanworks).

[neonfretra]

hockey art tag game!! ^_^ hello @wehaveagathering thank you for the tag!! <3

rules: post your first ever hockey art, your latest hockey art, and your favorite hockey art. then tag three hockey artists

tagging artists first because um. gestures at the keep reading below? im shy hello ^_^

@puckpocketed

@stillfertile

@oensible

any other artists that see this!! please tag me i beg of you i would love to get to know other hockey artists! if you already did it tag me who care. i care! :)

lot of yapping because i love yapping, sticking this under a cut ^_^ did you know tumblr changed their image limit from 10 to 30?

as a forewarning a lot of these images are hella compressed because i pulled them directly from posts, maybe consider peeking at the original linked posts to see them in marginally better quality ^_^

first hockey art

i never posted this one! i thought blackwood and kahkonen looked vaguely kiki and bouba esque respectively which is REALLY funny because the name mackenzie blackwood is more bouba than kaapo kahkonen which is an incredibly kiki name

now that i sound sufficiently deranged.

which of these shapes is be named kiki and which is named bouba?

the kiki/bouba effect was a study about our association with sound and shape, in which people associated "kiki" with a spiky shape and "bouba" with a round shape. (wikipedia, image also comes from wikipedia)

this was from when i was first dipping my toes into hockey and had the hardest time telling players apart! the drawing, not the kiki/bouba effect . you can imagine what two men with similar hair color, eye color, and hair styles on the same team playing the same position was like for me. the biggest part of why i didnt post this was because it was incredibly embarrassing at the time . now i can freely admit i dont know any of the eastern conference and people will think im funny ^_^

first hockey art on this blog

mostly because i think its a fun bit of trivia, the goalie portraits for the teams i started out rooting for! (sharks edition and kraken edition)

i posted these the first game of their corresponding teams after i finished them! the completion order is less straight forward because i was actively jumping between all 4 drawings (3 kraken goalie portraits + 1 portrait of 2 shark goalies) when one of them got too hard :)

i dont remember the exact order beyond grubi being the last i finished LMAO something about drawing him just does not agree with my hands

theyre all a lil ugly to me now but thats the fun of knowing how you started <3

i remember also wanting to draw pwhl minnesotas goalies but not knowing at the time how to find nearlyyy enough references to feel confident to go through with it! (i was looking them up on search engine images HAHAHAHA)

good ol pwhl min ^_^ leave out a fire extinguisher for em will you all, one hell of a trashfire on their hands right now

^ this joke was written BEFORE the whole firing of 3 coaches pwhl min are we okay??????

latest hockey art

...at time of posting mostly because i take a long time to get tag games done...! hello from my drafts everypony ^_^

i lie to myself ft. devin cooley and joey daccord!

a fun fact is that despite animating a bit ive actually never made an animatic before! ^_^

one of the challenges of animating is that you have to draw the same character over and over without making big changes and how to keep doing it consistently

one of the challenges of drawing real people is that you need to figure how to simplify a person to their most basic shapes and proportions . even if you have a realistic style you gotta wrangle the underlying bones to it and it is harddd takin that step back from the human person to make em a cartoon .

so you can imagine the how it goes animating real people

i actually wouldve loved addin more motion and frames but experienced some minor limitations:

i do my drawings in an art program and stitch them together afterwards, which means i dont have a sense of the speed of everything . you can kind of see that problem around the 0:19-0:20 mark because i straight up did not consider time when i wrote a really long winded sign in the background LOL the unused frame for this was also a time issue, i tossed in an establishing shot because i didnt consider the fact that there isnt time for an establishing shot

time and motivation . the longer something takes the less i want to work on it . would you believe well over half of this was taken up by like . being stumped on 2 or 3 frames HAHAHA

doing animation in an art program not made for art is really cumbersome actually. i do most of my work in one layer so you can imagine how it feels to suddenly have to keep track of tens of layers (sprites, backgrounds, foreground elements, captions) , i merged certain layers (white blocks under lineart for readability and closed captions over the lineart are all one layer) so its difficult to actually go back and add anything. or alter anything! closed captions from 0:13-0:15 is inaccurate but i cant alter them without literally erasing it from the layer which is scary

despite the fact that anything involving moving pictures kills me crazy style, im INCREDIBLY proud that this is done and this animatic is like my own child. shout out to the reblogs on the post for pointing out jokes or talkin that they like it, yall inflate my ego <3

at some point i stopped using reference images which is really funny to ME because i actually have the hardest time drawin a devin cooley that LOOKS like a devin cooley . get simplified . theres like. a handful of players i feel comfortable drawing without reference? if you ever want to learn how to draw someone, animate them ^_^

favorite hockey art

frantically scrolling through my art tag... not because i dont like any of my art (my drawings are all awesome would you believe) but because i dont even remember what ive drawn LMAOO

we dont mind more than just one art right ^_^ (like ive not been doing that already LOL

the doodles

i habe something to contribute / i shoot the puck / devin cooley eating joey daccords hair

the most important aspect of my own art is whether or not it makes me giggle . if it doesnt make me cry laugh then is it really goin on the fridge?

something i do feel proud of is balancing expression and likeness ^_^ its way easier knocking that balance with fictional characters as opposed to people with actual physical faces . simplifying them into what is essentially a poorly drawn cat meme is more of a beast than realistic portraits would you believe .

i think my favorite subject to do this with would be buoy actually! theyre a mascot, IDK why it should be a surprise that fae takes easily to being simplified and drawn cartoonishly

i do NOT know what emotion i shoot the puck is supposed to evoke.

really fun observin my freakish little drawings developing more of their own style over time (compare my first gubbi drawing to my latest tomas tatar thursday) (again, latest at the time of writing) and the simplification definitely feels way more intentional ^_^

the funnier half of simplifying is that the simpler it gets the more complex it gets? like more dramatic perspective in barkov and tkachuk in the cup or buoys weird pose with tomas tatar with the dynamo pardubice jersey. id mention shading but i actually have a grudge against shading relative to art advice ("just add shading" is NOT the one size fits all advice we treat it like ITS NOT!!!!)

the nicer stuff

do i hear a break down on individual pieces?

jan rutta picking up mackenzie blackwoods helmet

i think i made it planny clear on the original post but i really truly love the composition of this shot. ruttas hand picking up mackblacks helmet? between the legs? CRAZY.

the refs stance was wild by the way. legs so far apart theyre naming the ice between em an ocean. so on.

i remember the original shot being so striking to me because of the contrast between the cold and warm, the hard and the soft fleshy bits which was something i really wanted to exaggerate with colors

yall can probably tell i dont take my references SUPER literally but for some reason in this one i asked myself if it was deceitful to be messin with colors to get a vibe, to which i asked myself WHAT was i going on about

anyways. intentionally made everything but jan ruttas hand way bluer . i guess mackenzie blackwoods helmet is also warm? but the focus is the hand more than anything hahaha this is also why i did the most complex coloring for it

also another point of interest! included the chromatic aberration (the red/blue 3d effect) mostly because the legs on the right side were blending into each other . but its a really interesting effect to observe in actual recording! :) im not a fan of pressing my face up to a moving picture unfortunately </3

sidney crosby with evgeni malkins helmet

ok ok okay can i be honest . that stray line next to the penguins head has bothered me ever since the day after i posted this. now YOU cant unsee it. no problem ^_^

if you look at the original post, this one has been a wild redraw because i was making up a whole new angle of an existing pose LOL. then again i dont do redraws super often so i guess its not really ridiculous but.

actually now that i think about it i was making up the angle (albeit less) with the bobrovsky stigmata drawing (though its worth noting that i referenced this gifset of the save that was less of a severe change than the original tweet) and ignoring foreground elements for the kiss redraw (theres a big ol hockey stick covering jordan eberles head IIRC?) and the mackenzie blackwood holding his partners head redraws (i was absolutely NOT drawing the audience LMAO)

but the gesture was easy enough to capture but the anatomy had me by the NECK. the THROAT. the SCRUFF!!! it still looks plenty wonky to me but IMO gesture trumps accuracy . someone in the notes tagged it with this:

to which i throw my hands up in celebration and say hallelujah he has been accepted by penguins fans he will survive the winter

kraken goalies as animals

i really like drawing animals . i really like drawing armor .

more detailed breakdown on the post LOL i just really liked this and its super different from the usual stuff i post

i havent even mentioned all my sacrilegious drawings... my art is so awesome and cool its so hard picking a favorite...

and some final notes

if you made it to the end of this one jesus christ um. hello ^_^ even i wasnt writin this in one sittin.

honest to god if this post showed you anythin i love talking about my process and thoughts behind my works and if you wanted to ever ask hi hit me up ? ask box open? dms open? i can buy you dinner or a very shiny fruit from the market?