#and this whole year has been... yeah. burnout year | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

the-stove-is-on-fire · 2 years

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Interview With A Ghost

Red Robin, (aka Tim Drake) decides to host a YouTube series called "Teenage Hero Burnout'' after he makes a video by the same name talking about his own experiences.

He interviews current and past heroes who started their careers as teens and discuss how it shaped their outlook on heroing & life in general. His primary focus is on current teen heroes. Once he runs through his whole team roster and all willing (and unwilling) BatFam members he branches out to look for more obscure teen heroes. (Inadvertently he ends up building a support network for young heroes but that's for another time.)

Ficlet under the cut vvv (Ao3 Link)

Today the "studio" is decorated with little ghosts and miscellaneous Halloween decorations to match his guest's theme. Clearly a homemade set, but RR has a high-quality camera and sound equipment. Today's episode is titled "Teenage Hero Burnout #56: Interview With A Ghost.”

Phantom is sitting in his chair invisibly with a cup of coffee (the coffee mug has his DP logo on it), which of course makes it look like RR is interviewing a floating cup of coffee. But every now and then the camera picks up a blurry shadow in the shape of a person. Super creepy. (And in case you were wondering, yes, this is 100% the Halloween special.)

"Let's get this over with already," Phantom mumbles into his mug, taking a sip. Red Robin ignores his guest's comment and continues his little intro.

"Welcome back everyone! I hope all you Birdies have been taking care of yourselves since the last episode. Today's guest is Amity Park's Phantom. A lesser known small-town hero, but no less of a powerhouse who has helped the Justice League themselves on several occasions. Say ‘hi’ Phantom.”

The floating coffee mug rises and bobs in the air like someone making a salute with it.

"Thanks man, I totally feel like I’m not talking to myself,” Red Robin mutters.

“Calm your shorts bird boy, do you have any idea how crazy ghosts get around this time of year?”

“No, but it sounds like I should put an underage drinking disclaimer on this video.”

“It’s not underage when you’re in a different dimension.”

“And jumping off of THAT robust rebuttal, since we're using this series to focus on the experience of teen heroes here, let's start with how old you are, Phantom?"

"What are you, a cop?”

Red Robin glares intently at the seemingly vacant chair beside him.

“Kidding, kidding. Do you want my ghost age or my human age?"

"Can you elaborate on that?"

"Well, the whole phantom thing isn't just a gimmick. I am an actual, bonafide member of the afterlife. Age isn't as straightforward for us. It could be my assumed age based on my appearance, how old I was when I became a ghost, how old I'd be if I were still alive, or how long I've been dead. Which is only three years, by the way. Shocker, I know. Despite what some people think, I'm not an ancient trickster ghost with the face of a child."

"Don't worry Phantom, we'll give you a century or two to work on it first. How about you tell us how old you were when you first started acting as a hero?"

"Same as when I died, fourteen."

"So that makes you roughly seventeen now."

"In human terms, yeah."

"And what are your pronouns?"

"He/him"

"Nice, same. Any fun facts about yourself before we get into the real meat of things?

"Uuuuuuuuh, do I have any facts about me that are fun? I really like flying? Yeah. Flying is probably my favourite power. I love being up in the air. It's the best."

"We know you started heroing about three years ago, but can you tell uus why you started heroing? Were there any inciting incidents?"

"Ah, origin-story time. Amity Park has always been a thin spot between this world and the next with lots of natural ghost activity. Mostly just small stuff. There are thin spots all over the world. Sometimes they get thinner, sometimes they move or close up entirely. It's just another weird part of nature. But when ghosts in Amity started coming through the veil at a more rapid rate and clashing with the living residents I just felt like it was my...duty? I guess? To protect the town. I wanted to protect my family and friends from other ghosts."

"You still have living relatives and friends?"

"Yeah, it's complicated but we make it work."

"I'm glad you've got a diverse support system, especially since you haven't been a ghost for very long. Also mini PSA to the audience:" RR gestures to Phantom to pick up where he left off.

"Never ask a ghost about their death unless you'd like an express ticket to your own funeral. Red Robin cleared these questions with me ahead of time."

"Are you still an active hero?"

"Yes."

"What kind of villains do you normally face?

"Ghosts."

"What about ghost hunters? In fact, do you consider yourself a ghost hunter?"

"I used to think of myself as a ghost hunter in the early days but now I think ghost fighter is a better label for what I do."

"And human ghost hunters?"

"Uuuuugh, yeah. Sometimes I have to deal with humans hunting me. The Fentons and Red Huntress have chilled out and I have truces with them but the GIW fucking sucks. If you ever have a ghost problem, never call the Gits In White. They will make your problems worse and the anti-ecto acts that let them get away with it are inhumane and discriminatory."

"Yikes. Human troubles aside, do you have a traditional rogues gallery of ghostly enemies?"

"I guess? To be honest I've become frenemies with a lot of the ghosts that used to give me a hard time. There's a lot more diplomacy and negotiating in fighting ghosts than you'd think."

"Any examples you're willing to share?"

"Hmmm, I'll use Ember as an example because she'll appreciate the free press. So Ember loves making music and she's really good at it. Like, good enough to literally hypnotize people. Obviously, mind control and enslaving the living are no-nos in my haunt. But because most ghosts can't stray too far from a steady source of Ectoplasm without an alternate energy source Ember didn't have many options. We got stuck in this cycle of her controlling people to get enough energy to leave Amity and me not letting her control people while in Amity. Eventually, we talked it out and found some non-mind control methods to help her get out and establish her music career in a safe and healthy way. That's Ember McClain by the way, check out her new album 'Domino Effect'."

"Shameless."

"I owe her a favour or two. Nowadays we only fight to blow off steam and hang out."

"Sounds like we have another tally for rehabilitation being the most effective method for dealing with villains."

"Wow, you really have a board for that?"

"The power of friendship is not to be underestimated."

"Sort of related to that; earlier I was planning to say that I've made more friends after dying than I ever did alive for my fun fact but I figured that was kind of depressing to start off with."

"I mean when you say it like that, yes. How about we re-frame it? You didn't get the opportunities to make more friends during your life, but as a ghost, you've been given a second chance to make as many friends as you can! And it sounds like you've been pretty successful in the new friend department so far."

"Oh. Yeah, I guess that is a better way to look at it. Sure wish I didn't have to get my ass kicked so often before I figured it out, though."

"Eh, sometimes the learning process sucks. But you know what doesn't suck? Bingo time!" Red Robin hits a buzzer and little ghost confetti rains down on them. The outline of Phantom is more visible because of the little clumps that land on him.

Hero BINGO cards:

Free Space (Hero Complex) "I refuse to use the free space." "I mean, it's a free space, it counts whether you want to use it or not." ":/"

Gone to Space "Yup, another fun fact, ghosts can do just fine in space."

Been to Another Dimension "I actively live in another dimension."

Visited an Alternate Timeline "Unfortunately."

Saved the world "Technically."

Have you ever been cloned Sigh, “Yes” "Dude, really? How does that even work?"

Kidnapped "Yep." "Who hasn't?"

Imprisoned "Isn't this the same as being kidnapped?" "Nah this one's more formal, like detained by a government body or authority." "Ah, okay. I got that one too."

Impersonated "Oh yeah."

Mind-controlled "Glad to know I'm not the only one."

Died and Resurrected "..." "..." “How alive do you have to be for it to count as a resurrection? Like, percentage-wise. 50%?”

Fought an Evil Version of Yourself "This highly specific and traumatic thing is a common enough problem to be a BINGO card?" “Yeup.” “Yeeesh. But again, glad to know I’m not the only one.”

Have an Arch Nemesis "That's like, a prerequisite. This should be the free space."

An Adult Mentor "Kind of? I honestly don't know if I can say yes to this one." "Have you ever had an adult train you or help you with being a hero and/or your abilities?" "I'm going to pass this one and just say no. My head hurts thinking about the adults in my life." “That’s fair.”

Dead Parents "Isn't this one a little dark?" "Sometimes the best way to start addressing your trauma is by laughing at it. And yes, it is also a highly specific and traumatic thing common enough among teen heroes to be on the bingo cards." "Jesus."

Government-funded Experimentation "Oh come ooooon! This whole thing has to have been tailored for me." "Dude… I take it back, Hero Bingo hates you. What even is your afterlife?" "Endless suffering."

A Social Life "Surprisingly, yes."

Last of Your Species "Unfortunately, no."

Poisoned "Ye- wait. Wait no, I've never been poisoned. How is that even possible with my luck?" "Knock on wood right now dude."

Homemade Costume “Weellll….” “I feel like that should be a yes or no answer…” “Does it count as homemade if I died in it?” RR face-palms.

School Dance Interrupted “Weirdly enough, yes.” “It happens way more often than you’d think and we have no clue why.”

Evil Ancestor “Does a witch hunter count as evil? In modern context, yes, but in a historical context...?” “I’d go with evil. Burning or drowning people usually puts you solidly in the evil category. Regardless of whether or not they cursed your dick to look like a toad or whatever.”

Framed for a Crime “YES, AND I WILL NEVER GET MY RECORD EXPUNGED BECAUSE ‘A CRAZY CLOWN MADE ME DO IT’ IS ONLY AN ACCEPTABLE DEFENSE IN GOTHAM.”

Your Crush/SO is Evil “Thankfully no. I mean she used to shoot me a lot, but she also thought I was the evil one.”

"I have like, six BINGO's. Is this supposed to be difficult?" “Not really, but man, your luck...”

"Well… BINGO was… interesting. How about we finish up the last few questions?"

"Have at it."

"Like a lot of supers, your relationship with the media hasn't been the best. Are there any common rumours or misconceptions about you that you'd like to clear up?"

"YES. For the last time, ghosts are NOT INHERENTLY EVIL. The vast majority of ghosts stay in the ghost zone and mind their own business. The ghosts that cause trouble for the living are like 1% of the population and even then, the ones who actively go out of their way to hurt people are an extreme minority. Ghosts in the mortal world are most likely there because they're lost or completing unfinished business. We are not mindless or emotionless, and YES, we can still feel pain. If you have had a negative interaction with a ghost, chances are you probably did something to piss them off first. That's not to say that all ghosts are safe to be around. Treat ghosts like people. Don't bother them unnecessarily, don't ask invasive and overly personal questions, and be polite."

"We should do a whole Ghost Safety PSA Mythbusters style one of these days."

"Honestly, I would be so down for that."

"Sweet. Do you feel being a teen hero has negatively impacted your mental health, why or why not?

"Yuuuuup. The saving people part is nice. The dying and being dead part is less nice. Also, being hated for my species while still trying to protect the people who hate me has been hell for my self-esteem. I somehow have a social life but it's about half as dead as I am.

"Getting the shit beat out of me is more my physical than mental health but I've been told that constantly being on edge and expecting to get attacked at any moment isn't good for your mental health. I guess I don't have to deal with receiving or inflicting lasting injuries and facing mortality the same way heroes like you do since ghosts are pretty much indestructible.

"But seeing what comes out on the other side of death, and hearing the horrific things some ghosts went through to manifest is its own can of worms. You haven't had real mental scars until you've been trapped in a room with someone reliving their own death over and over and over with no way to help them."

"Shit."

"Yeah. Don't die. Or if you do, don't become a ghost. The afterlife is fucked up."

"If you're still active, will you continue heroing into your adult life, or in this case, for the rest of your afterlife?

"Yes. I'm pretty sure I'm locked in for the rest of my existence."

"How so?"

"My… purpose, I guess you could call it, is helping and protecting people. As long as there are people getting themselves into danger I'll have a reason to be around. Never-ending unfinished business."

"That's… wow. I can't imagine doing what I do for the rest of eternity."

"Yeah, me neither."

"Hm?"

"Sorry, I know this is supposed to be about positive mental health and stuff but… I'm going to keep doing this until it ends me. I don't really have any other options. But I don't see myself doing this for eternity either. Somewhere along the way, hopefully a couple lifetimes from now, the hero life will take me out for good and that'll be that."

"I do try to put an emphasis on thinking positive but you're more than welcome to share the dark parts too. We can't grow if we focus on only the palatable thoughts and feelings. I can't begin to understand what it feels like to be in your situation. Do you think that you're fatalistic or realistic?"

"I like to think I'm being realistic. Maybe I'll change my mind when I've been dead for a couple of centuries, maybe I won't."

"Maybe you'll see humanity making their way into space en masse? We know there are hundreds of other species and planets out there. If life on Earth ever gets boring you can always head for the stars."

"I- thank you, Rob, you have no idea how much that means to me."

"Anytime."

Closing comments.

"That's all for today everyone, don't forget to brush your teeth, take your medication, and get some fresh air! As usual, links to mental health resources and our Hero Health forum will be in the description below. And remember my Birdies, knowing when to ask for help is a sign of strength. Whether you're a Kryptonian, an Amazon warrior, the embodiment of fear itself dressed as a bat, or just some dude, never battle your demons without backup! Red Robin, out!"

Blooper scene/skit while the end credits roll:

"Dude, you promised you'd make an appearance."

"Trust me, this is more for your sake than mine."

"Sure it is. What, did you forget to wear your suit?"

"...."

"Shut up, are you serious?"

"Well I didn't expect to be summoned in the middle of the night so someone could cash in a favour."

"You agreed to do this months ago! Besides, it's YouTube, casual is fine, preferred even. No one is going to care if you're in your pj's- wait you are wearing clothes right?"

"Uuuuuuugghhhhh, yes. I am wearing clothes."

"Well now I'm curious."

"I'm not showing your fans what I sleep in."

"Will you show me if I edit this section out?"

"..." deep sigh, "fiiiiiine."

Phantom drops his invisibility but the only thing the camera picks up is a horrific, vaguely human-shaped blob of distorted static with two neon green points for eyes. When Phantom speaks his voice is extra crunchy and echoing.

"͔̐̿͗͑̒T̃̑̿͂h̻̠̬͍e̖͔̥͚ͣ̾͋͑̚ͅr̙̈̏̔e̊̽̈ͬ̑͂̂,̤̖̖͍̖̞̪̋ͩ ̝̳̖̺͖̲͉̇͐̇̏̾h͉͙͈͓̙̞ͬͅa͓̤̐ͥ̋̇̃̍ͥp̘̺̬̞̬̮̹̈́̈́ͧ͐̅p̥̦̺̹ͭͧ̌y̭̟͉̅̚?̭̤̻̑͋̈ͥ"͙͔͔̱̅͂

"Oh my god, that's adorable."

Highlights from the comments section:

People calling Phantom an Eldritch Horror.

Calling Red Robin a monster fucker.

Asking what Phantom could have possibly been wearing??? (Answer: His NASA themed footie pajamas)

Telling Phantom to get more sleep.

Telling Phantom encouragements.

Thanking Phantom for protecting his town.

Thanking RR for introducing them to a cool new teen hero they'd never heard of before.

There are the occasional comments claiming that Phantom couldn't do the interview in person and 'invisibility' is a creative work around for his absence that still ties into the Halloween special.

Philosophical debates on the pros and cons of immortality and listing off other (allegedly) immortal heroes that Phantom should get in touch with.

[A/N: Congrats if you made it this far! This ficlet is a bit rough around the edges but I hope you enjoyed it! Any readers feel the desire to do so, they are welcome to take this, in part or wholesale verbatim, and use the idea for their own fic.]

#Danny Phantom #dp #Red Robin #DC #Tim Drake #dcxdp #crossover #long post #zalgo text #<<but only briefly #ficlet #I know that's not how bingo works I just wanted to come up wit a response for each one #my bingo sheet is so crunchy lol #stove on fire #38006

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antigonick · 2 months

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hey hey pauline, how do you manage to read so Much? im relieved that my uni syllabi force me to read, but also resent the fact that well. i don’t read much because of those syllabi either.

i realize that the algorithmic internet and burnout have smoothed my brain and i need to work on putting the wrinkles back but MAN. i miss being curious, or rather, being able to effectively and patiently explore that curiosity. art and learning are everywhere and i have to have faith that this is a relearnable skill (!!!!) but. yk. woeee is meee i love books when did they get so difficult

I don't read nearly enough anymore either. I do write a lot more, so I guess that's a plus, but reading-wise I'm in the fucking pit with no end in sight. I finished my PhD a year and a half ago and I don't think I've read more than... five? Books for fun since then? I'm curious, I'm excited, I buy books, but I find myself putting them down and not finishing them; those that are useful for my research, my translation work or the lessons I create I treat emptily and efficiently, as academics do, focusing on the parts I need instead of engaging with the whole, which is frustrating and feels empty because a text is a system and I'm necessarily missing out if I pick and choose. As you say for your syllabi—I'm almost relieved to have had mandatory reading for my studies this year because I simply had to read this shit, and I loved doing it, and I was so relieved to see I could still do it, but I only managed it by sticking to hard deadlines, giving myself rigid reading timeslots, page-goals, etc. You have to finish this by the end of the week—today you must read 50 pages and you're not moving your ass off this chair until you reach it. That's the only solution I can give you, and that helps me, since after a day of work I end up reaching for passive brain-off activities instead of books if I don't discipline myself. Let go of the resentment and take everything you can from what you do manage to read. I don't know how sustainable that is either, considering this all speaks of burnout but crawling out of the burnout by making reading a task is an easy slide into making it even more of a chore. My other working alternative has been to pick up books I don't care much about but are entertaining all the same—no pressure to engage with nuanced underlayers, with complex stylistic devices, no expectations and thoughtful critique, just fast-food thriller or horror or crime books that coax me into at least reading spontaneously and show to myself that I can finish a book by choice. Sometimes. Oh, and shorts—one poem a day if you can, one poem a week if you forget. I'm thinking of coming back to audio books too—can't take notes on them, which I dislike, but in transport and on walks it might be a better alternative than nothing.

Not sure this answer is anything else than a bummer BUT. Yeah. I hope some of those work for you ❤️

#on reading #whisperers

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powderblueblood · 2 months

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BEAUTIFUL!

ronnie ecker recounts the last first day of the worst of her life or i wanted to rewrite beautiful from heathers the musical, hellfire and ice version. warnings: first person narrative (ronnie's pov), swearing, era-typical misogyny, bullying and slurs, mention of eating disorders, everyone's a dick, everyone's kind of gay for lacy doevski. wc: 3.8k

September 1st, 1984.

First day of the end of your life. It’s hard not to get a little intro-outrospective.

If I was a diary keeping person, which I’m not because I don’t like to leave a paper trail outside my own goddamn academic brilliance, I’d write something like this.

Dear diary, I believe that I’m a good person–y’know, relatively speaking, if you don’t count that one time I bit that one kid for catcalling me. But, here we are! First day of senior year! And I look around at these kids I’ve known all my life and I ask myself–what happened?

We’re in the hallway, bottlenecking toward the cafeteria. It’s right around lunchtime, so everyone’s getting a real good look at everybody else, categorizing who they hate, who they hate more, who got boobs over the summer. God, do we ever stop slinging shit at each other, even when we think no one’s listening? There’s a constant cacophony in the hallways of Hawkins High.

Freak! Slut! Burnout! Bug-eyes! Poser! Lard-ass!

And no one does anything about it.

It’s pretty sad, considering where we came from.

We were so tiny, happy and shiny, playing tag and getting chased.

Freak! Slut! Loser! Shortbus!

Singing and clapping, laughing and napping, baking cookies, eating paste. Especially me. I was crazy for that shit.

Bull-dyke! Stuck-up! Hunchback!

Then we got bigger, that was the trigger, like the Huns invading Rome. “Shit, my bad!” That underclassman I just walked straight into looked terrified. And for good reason.

Welcome to my school, this ain’t no high school. This is the Thunderdome.

Trailer trash!

For the very first very last time, I crane my head around the swamped hall and try to recall where my new locker is. First star on the right, and I wiggle in my combination and dump my books inside. I take a second, shoving my head inside the cool metal darkness (voluntarily, for once) and mutter, “Hold your breath and count the days, we’re graduating soon–”

“–Christ. College will be paradise, if I’m not dead by June.”

I crane my neck out. Two lockers up from me, elegant fingers pull open an identical door to mine except hers, of course, already has a vanity mirror hung up inside. She checks her reflection, not like it ever needs checking. One of her faithful little redheads stands beside her, smacking bubblegum so loud it makes my ears pop.

“You are so melodramatic, it’s crazy.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing…”

It sucks how the chrysalis of adolescence has made most of us completely obnoxious. I try not to be a sucker for nostalgia, but I can’t help but remember how much easier this was in middle school. Waking up on a weekday didn’t have to be like living in a segment of Creepshow.

I know, I know, I know, life can be beautiful. No plastic Jesus on my dashboard (or… handlebars, I guess) but I pray, I pray for a better way. If we changed back then, we could change again…

Then I get a whole shoulder of dork, right to the face. Bubblegum snaps between snorts, I can see that he’s been shoved my way. Yeah, we could be beautiful…

“Ow!”

Just not today. “Hey, are you okay?”

This Jansport sporting asshole twists his face up right in mine. “Get away, nerd!” Jesus Christ.

The choir of angels go on–I’m just trying to make it to the cafeteria and grab a fucking chicken pot pie. I’m starving, and I could use a little less soundtrack.

Freak! Slut! Cripple! Homo! Homo! Homo!

But, listen. It’s not a total nightmare. There’s light at the end of the tunnel. Things will get better soon as my letter comes from Harvard, Duke or Brown–

–or, NYU, if we’re being really serious.

“Wake from this coma, take my diploma–” God. This chick’s voice seems to cut through the din of the hallway like a bell, “Then I can blow this town. Dream of ivy covered walls and smoky French cafes…”

“Sooo uber pretentious!”

“Watch it, freak!” I don’t even need to turn around to figure out who that’s directed at. But, I’m a little preoccupied with singing my own tune, here! Muscling through to the lunch line, grabbing a tray while I–

“–fight the urge to strike a match and set this dump ablaze. Hey, Ronnie!”

Dude, shut up! I swing around, trying to spot the owner of that very different, very familiar dulcet tone when some duckbill hat wearing dickwad upends my lunch tray. Dressed in Hawkins Tiger green and gold, this is one of many prize dickwads.

Bear with me, I’m trying to place him.

“Ooops.”

Andy Sweeney. Indiana’s worst point guard… “whose true talent lies in being a huge dick.”

Did I mention before about that lack of filter between my brain and my mouth? I patch it up pretty good most of the time, but sometimes…

“What did you say to me, skank?” Andy demands of me all darkly and shit. It’s scary. Even if I’ve got a foot and a half on him.

“Aaah!” I recoil, looking at his flexing fists, “Nothing.”

I back up from him, way way up, leaving my mess of a lunch tray on the ground. Even though that makes me feel shitty–when did I become the guy who left stuff for the already harangued janitorial staff to clean up?

We were kind before; we can be kind once more…

Head down. Stalk through. Find the Hellfire table. But, not before someone chucks me lightly on the arm.

“Agh!” I holler before I register him. I am totally on edge. “Hey, Eddie.”

“Hey,” he grins in a sardonic way that says I cannot believe we’re putting ourselves through this again.

Eddie Munson. My best friend since pre-pube. The closest thing I’ll ever have to a brother, unless Granny finally lets me get that gecko I’ve always wanted. I’m almost eighteen, for Chrissake, I should be allowed.

Anyway, Eddie rocks. We know this. Look at him.

“We still on for movie night?” he asks.

I beam. Our first day of school comedown tradition. “Shit yeah, you’re on Jiffy Pop detail.”

Eddie’s got a little pep in his step and it jangles his wallet chain. Dude can’t help but attract attention– almost all of it unwanted. “I rented Evil Dead.”

“Hohoho, again? Wait, don’t you have it memorized by now?”

“What can I say?” Before I can even warn him, Eddie’s backstepping straight into– “I’m a sucker for a gory ending.”

“Eddie Munson, king of the trailer park! What, you didn’t qualify for free lunches this year?”

A hand comes down hard on the age-old tin lunchbox Eddie’s carrying. The clatter it makes against the lino makes me want to cover my ears and hide, especially when I see Eddie’s face. Total resignation. It’s humiliating.

This guy?

Tommy Hagan. He’s the smartest guy on the basketball team, which is kind of like being the tallest dwarf.

“Too goddamn easy, man!” he guffaws, and I would try to figure out what farm animal he most resembles, but apparently I’m too busy–

“Hey! Pick that up! Right now!” –being the hero.

“I’m sorry, are you actually talking to me?” Tommy also tries to tower over me, but I’ve got a decent number of inches on him too.

My cheeks blaze.

“Yes, I am. I wanna know what gives you the right to pick on my friend. You’re a high school has-been waiting to happen. Tell me, Tommy, do you actually have a personality outside of sticking your nose right up Steve Harrington’s ass?”

Tommy gets closer and closer. So close that I can see the nose hair move as he huffs through his freckly nostrils. His finger points right between my eyebrows.

“… you have a zit right there.”

Cue rapturous laughter from the peanut gallery.

Dear diary…

Why do they hate me? Why don’t I fight back? Why do I act like such a creep? Why won’t he date me? Why did I hit him? Why do I cry myself to sleep?

Somebody hug me! Somebody fix me! Somebody save me!

Send me a sign, God! Give me some hope here! Something to live for!

The doors of the cafeteria burst open and Tommy’s attention is thankfully wrenched away from me. Everyone’s attention is wrenched away from me. Because we’ve all been waiting for this.

They enter the caf in a solid formation, so solid that people part for them. Some gazing, some gawping, some glaring. The name calling ceases, the bullying pauses.

This is the royal court. They float above it all.

Tina Burton, head cheerleader. Her dad is loaded. He sells engagement rings.

Heather Holloway, runs the yearbook. Badly. No discernible personality, but her mom did pay for implants.

Even the lessers are notorious. Carol Perkins has been having sex since, like, seventh grade. Cass Finnigan’s been pretending to save it for Jesus but giving a backdoor key to whoever buys her peach schnapps. Nicole Summers invented three new slurs last year alone.

And finally, Lacy Doevski.

The Almighty.

She is a mythic bitch.

These girls, they’re solid Teflon. Never bothered. Never harassed–

“I would give anything to be like that.”

And I know I don’t sit in that thought alone. Glancing around the tables, the coagulation of cliques, I can hear the desire coming from my classmates.

I’d like to be their boyfriend. If I sat at their table, guys would notice me. I’d like them to be nicer.

“What’s the over-under on one of those harpies getting kidnapped, taken to some abandoned warehouse to be photographed naked and left for the rats?” Eddie mutters into my ear as we slam ourselves down at our regular table.

I roll my freakin’ eyes. “I told you that your Barb Holland theory was insane.”

Eddie shrugs, flipping open his recovered lunchbox. “Just sayin’... They never found a body. Anyway, my money's on the ice queen. If everything they're sayin' about her dad is true, she is prime ransom material.”

“You are so unnecessarily twisted.” But my eyes are still following the crown jewels. I notice that Lacy, Tina and Heather all rise to the girl’s room immediately after they finish their minimal lunch.

I interrupt Eddie and Gareth’s too-intense-for-lunchtime debate about the morality of posthumously publishing The Silmarillion. “I have to take a leak.”

As I gently push the door of the bathroom open, I can see Tina standing nervously at an open stall door. Heather is ralphing like her life depends on it. The reptilian arch of Lacy Doevski is bent towards the mirror, touching up her lipstick.

“Grow up, Heather,” Lacy says in this voice that could weirdly be misconstrued as concerned, “Bulimia is so sophmoronic.”

Tina grimaces. “Maybe you should see a doctor, Heather.”

From inside the stall, Heather’s voice echos. “Yeah, Heather– I mean, Tina. Maybe I should.”

I’m about to open my mouth, say something about ginger ale or peppermint tea, but Mrs O’Donnell enters behind me. I dive into a nearby stall, pretty confident I haven’t been spotted. But, I leave just enough of a crack in the door to watch everything that unfolds out there.

“Ah, I should have known–”

Heather vomits again. Damn, how can she pull trig so much on so little?

“–the witches from Macbeth always travel in a trio.” Her heels click over the cracked, yellowing tile, but the way Lacy turns from the mirror gives even O’Donnell pause. “Perhaps you didn’t hear the bell over all the vomiting. You’re late for class.”

Hey. Idea. I dig around in my backpack and scribble on a piece of paper, leaning against the bathroom door.

“Heather wasn’t feeling well.” Lacy says. Again, confusing enough to sound kind! “We’re helping her.”

O’Donnell chuckles all airly. Like she’s any match for her. “Not without a hall pass, you’re not. Week’s detention.”

That’s my cue. I scurry out of the stall, presenting O’Donnell with–

“Um, actually, Mrs O’Donnell, all four of us are out on a hall pass.” I gulp and glance at Heather, who’s finally hauled herself off her knees. “Yearbook committee.”

It’s super hard to breathe as O’Donnell inspects my handiwork. It hits me that this could go horribly, horribly wrong, and I can feel Lacy’s eyes boring into a hot spot on the back of my head.

O’Donnell arches her eyebrow. “I see you’re all listed. Hurry up and get where you’re going.”

She goes to hand the note back to me, but Lacy intercepts. Once the coast is clear, she takes her time looking it over.

“This is an excellent forgery,” she tells me. A drop of freezing sweat runs down my back. “Who are you?”

“Uh, Ronnie– Veronica Ecker,” I stumble. “We were lab partners last year?”

Lacy’s eyes narrow. She doesn’t remember taking the lead on coolly dissecting a frog in front of me, it seems.

“Doesn’t matter. I crave a boon.”

She holds her glare on me. Jesus, why do I feel like I’m about to have my throat slit? “What boon?”

“Um. Let me sit at your lunch table. Just once. No talking necessary. If people think that you guys tolerate me, then they’ll leave me alone…”

What? It worked for Nancy Wheeler. Even if she had to boink Steve Harrington to do it, but I can't quite stretch that far.

The girls all chorus in laughter at me. Oof.

“Before you answer, I can also do report cards, permission slips and absence notes.” Dude, I cannot tell you where this boost of bravery (or foolhardiness) is coming from.

“How about prescriptions?” Heather asks.

“Shut up, Heather,” Lacy cuts.

“Sorry, Lacy.”

Then, she zeroes in on me. Takes slow steps toward me, just like Tommy Hagan did. But her stare is tearing strips right through me. I even freaking hunch as she gets closer.

“For a greasy little nobody,” Lacy says, her voice dropping low so I have to strain to hear her, “you do have good bone structure.”

Tina and Heather must already be tuned into this Lacy-only frequency.

“And a proportional body,” Tina adds. “If someone didn’t catch you during a basket toss, you’d probably only kind of fracture your spine. That’s very important.

“Of course, you could stand to de-hobo your wardrobe.” Heather goes so far as to flick the flappy pocket on the front of my overalls. “Salvation Army much?”

“And ya know, ya know, ya know…” the shiniest jewel in the crown hums, tapping her lipstick tube against her cheek, “This could be beautiful.” Her painted fingers pinch my chin and turn it down toward her–because I’m fucking tall. “Mascara, maybe some lipgloss and we’re on our way. Get this girl some blush– and Heather, I need your brush. Let’s make her beautiful.”

A manic looking Tina produces a vanity bag out of absolutely nowhere. “Let’s make her beautiful…”

“Let’s make her beautiful?” Heather snarks, but Lacy shoves a hand in her face.

Her eyes turn on me again. Dark and sparkly and… and… smiling. At me. “Okay?”

“Okay!”

Then, whaddaya know, smash cut, it’s the next freaking day. I don’t know how that works, but I don’t see another goddamn narrator so pipe down.

The halls are their usual shitshow– Billy Hargrove shoves the new Hellfire freshman, Gareth, into a locker. Eddie hauls him up by the collar and they run headlong into a gaggle of girls, who all scream because every nerd that plays a fantasy game is contagious.

“Don’t you dare touch me!”

“Get away, pervert!”

“What did I ever do to them?” Gareth yelps, exasperated. Hard not to feel bad for the kid.

But Eddie’s sage about it, even though he knows it’s as unfair as I do. “You’ll get used to it, freshman.”

“No, dude!” Gareth pushes back, verging on a panic attack, “Who could survive this! I can’t escape this–I think I’m dying!”

O’Donnell, hot on the tardy check, appears behind the both of ‘em. “Who’s that with Lacy?”

“Damn. Someone got a welfare increase,” Nicole Summers hatefully snarls.

“Who’s the babe?” says Andy Sweeney.

But Eddie Munson, oh-ho, Eddie Munson settles his eyes into slits. Anytime, any place, he’d know–

“Veronica?!”

“Veronica?” Cass and Carol caw.

“Veronica?” Steve and Tommy mimic.

And Lacy Doevski… she looks to her dutiful right, and smirks. “Veronica?”

And you know, you know, you know, life can be beautiful!

My whole life, I haven’t had a choice but to be one of the boys. My best friend’s a boy. I’m in a band with all boys. I’m surrounded by boys all the time who make gross boy jokes and do stupid boy shit. Nobody, not even my Granny, even though she fucking rules, ever asked me if… if I wanted to put on a skirt and get my goddamned nails painted. And it’s not as if I mind being on the more masculine side of things but, shit, is it so wrong to want something? Even if I believed what I was pretty much dragged up to believe, by all my friends and the world at large around me–that being a chick was totally dumb. Couldn’t I try it on?

You hope, you dream, you pray, and you get your way!

Lacy beckoned me into her walk-in closet, which was about as big as my bedroom and smelled of gardenia, and put me in a pleated skirt set that she said didn’t fit her temperament anymore. ‘But it’d work for a novice.’

Ask me how it feels, lookin’ like hell on wheels–

“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” Eddie seethes as I pass, carried on the cloud of Lacy’s perfume.

‘My god, it’s beautiful!’ I’d said, spinning around in the stupid, flippy skirt.

“Those bobbleheads totally morphed her!”

‘I might be beautiful!’ I mumbled, fingering the diamond studs she put in my ears that she made Heather pierce.

“She looks like–like–” Gareth chokes.

And when you’re beautiful…

“A girl!”

… it’s a beautiful fuckin’ day!

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

Now, at first, I think I’m fucking flatlining, expecting to wake up with goddamn tubes down my throat and shit– but I’m not. I’m in my regular old bed, with my regular old alarm clock screaming at me. I smash my hand down on it and jerk up, out of the covers.

First place I go is my wardrobe.

I feel the physical sensation of my heart dropping like a lead kite when I flick through my old thrift store samesies and Granny Ecker hand-me-downs to find no such minty plaid skirt set.

Just a dream.

Which is such a bullshit conceit. Sorry to break it to you.

I admit defeat and pull on my overalls, scrunching my ballcap over my head and muscle out the door. I’m already late, for me.

But–then, there’s an apparition hovering at my mailbox.

Someone who excitedly takes notice and waves when she catches me staring, arm stretching out of her fur-trimmed peacoat–which is looking a tiny touch shabbier than it used to these days.

“Happy early acceptance day, asshole!” Lacy Doevski sing-songs. Sing-songs. Which is… something I have to readjust to, given the liminal version of her I just experienced.

“Oh.. jeez,” I mutter, feeling dazed still, “I forgot that was today.”

Lacy’s brow gets all pinchy. “You okay? You look like steamed dogshit.”

“Thank you so much,” I drawl sarcastically, “It’s nothing, I slept funky. Where’s Eddie?”

Lacy shifts in herself a little, tucking hair behind her ears and avoiding my eyes. “How should I know?” Right. That. The daylight version of this little tryst they pretend they’re not having. Honestly, if the two of them would just bang it out– well, maybe things might be worse off and this weird little platonic ménage à trois of ours would be totally ruined forever, but at least I’d have to stop tiptoeing around them. “Come on, are you gonna open it or what?”

Oh, right. There’s a whole gravity of a situation supposed to be happening here.

I kind of feel the saliva gathering at the hinges in my jaw, you know the way you do when you’re about to puke your guts up? But then, I remember. Bulimia is so sophmoronic.

I yank open that rusty mailbox and a thick, thick envelope with a New York University imprint sits inside. I yank it out.

Lacy stares at me like I’m the dude holding the thing the Ten Commandments were written on.

I’m not drawing this shit out. I am not teasing myself, dude, you couldn’t pay me to–savagely, I rip the envelope open, which makes Lacy cringe. She probably has a little knife for these sorts of things, knowing her.

Dear Veronica,

Congratulations! I am delighted to inform you…

“Holy fucking shit.”

“Well…?”

I thrust that hot, heavy paper right into that pretty girl’s face. “Full. Goddamned. Ride.”

Lacy gasps, grasping the letter so hard it leaves claw marks. Her eyes shake back and forth, reading and re-reading the whole acceptance ream. It’s weird, and I know it’s weird, but I’m standing there, looking at her and trying to make her make sense with the Lacy that showed up in my dream. That girl existed, and she was mystifying, in a horrifying way. A total reign of ice cold terror. But now, I’m staring at Lacy, who’s all short, weird angles and specific enthusiasm and… it’s hard to see how those two girls ever lived in the same body.

She’s a little Whitman. She’s got those multitudes. And, actually, so do I.

“I knew it!” Lacy hisses, “And I want you to know that I’m not at all bitter. While I should be celebrating early acceptance with you, I’m glad–”

I grin at her. “You’re a little bitter.”

“Fine, I’m a little bitter, but I’m mostly excited. New York City, Ron! That’s transformative!”

“Yeah… speaking of. Lacy?”

“Yes?”

Dreams are meant to be prophetic and shit, right?

“Doyouwannagivemeamakeover?”

She cocks her head at me. She still hasn’t let go of that acceptance letter yet. “What?”

“Do you.” I take the envelope from her hands. I know she’s capable of identity theft. “Want to give me. A makeover.”

“Huh?” Her fingers stay curled around imaginary paper. Oh, my god.

“You heard me! And I hate repeating myself!” I flail a little. I get like that, quick to bug sometimes. “Look, you said it, New York is gonna be… transformative. I’m going to be a freaking lawyer, dude, fingers crossed, all going well.”

Lacy nods, not a hair out of place, with perfect confidence,“You are.”

“And when was the last time you saw a lawyer wearing fuckin’ overalls?! Huh? The people vs Howdy Doody?”

“I like your overalls.” I know she’s saying this because it’s the right thing to say, and she’s been practicing doing that really hard. She also might like them now, after repeated exposure, in a Stockholm syndrome sort of way.

“But they don’t scream esquire,” I impress upon her. And it’s true. I truly do believe that I can’t set foot in New York fucking City looking like I just fell off the back of a turnip truck–nor do I want to.

It takes a big fat beat, but her face changes. Lacy looks almost dastardly–dark, sparkling eyes like Lacy from the dream. She looks me right over, making the calculations of how to reupholster tragically unfashionable me in her mind. And then she arches her eyebrow.

“Well, remember… you asked, Veronica.”

#published by powder #r. ecker by powder #hai brainrot #ronnie ecker #stranger things fic #l. doevski by powder #this is really just wish fulfillment for me it's been stuck in my maladaptive head for weeks

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not-poignant · 3 months

Note

how do you have the time to write all this stuff /and/ play video games etc etc at the same time? Is it just that you write insanely fast after all these years? I have a lot of hobbies, writing being one of them, and i have such a hard time juggling them lol.

Hi anon,

So, real talk -> The reality is I don't have the time to write and play video games at the same time most of the time.

I haven't written anything since the 17th. I haven't started the next Palmarosa chapter. I'm on day 8 of not having opened a new document and writing anything.

I've edited a whole two chapters (which I suspect I have to go over again) and I've responded to some comments and asks, and that's it. No writing, no growing wordcount, I've been stagnating / not doing anything due to burnout since the 17th (I know the date because I have a giant whiteboard of completed chapters next to me).

Honestly, most of the time I don't actually have the time to read, play video games, watch television, or movies. I am too busy writing/editing/sleeping. With Toby in the mix, the small amount of media I was consuming has vanished.

Sometimes I can play certain video games while writing - these are usually low stakes video games I can endlessly put on pause and then play for five minutes at a time, like Dorfromantik and Garden Galaxy. Any kind of idler video game, like Havendock is also good for this.

Anon, you can't have a lot of hobbies and actually keep up with them and write the way I do, and therapist/s wouldn't recommend you drop all of your hobbies to write the way I do anyway. Trust me.

I had two things I wanted to start learning this year, and I haven't started learning them yet. I don't have the capacity. I had a therapist gently point out to me that if I was always at 100 in terms of output, how can I have any energy leftover for self-work and processing? The answer is: I don't. (That's actually why I've spent a week playing video games, and if anything it's just reminded me that my capacity is still at 100 and this is going to take a bit of concerted decompression).

Most of the time it's not normally quite this overwhelming. Toby has just maxed me out because he's a high energy dog who is also a puppy with Separation Anxiety, and there's no quick or easy fix for that. But most of the time it's still very intense. The list of shows I really want to watch, and books I really want to read, is very long. But I often don't have time to indulge in those things because I'm too busy writing.

A lot of the time I don't actually have the time to reread my own fics anymore, outside of editing.

This year was meant to kind of tackle that more decisively but you know then we got a puppy so... not so much.

But yeah anon, there is no 'how do you do this and do this' - you don't do one of those things, or you do it very haphazardly, in small amounts.

I do write very fast (my wordcount is 120-150wpm), but I don't edit fast (I'd tender that editing fast for most people is a bit of an oxymoron), I don't answer asks fast (some of the longer ones take me an hour to compose), etc. And even then, writing fast is not the same as the time it takes to think out the chapter, to figure out what's happening, letting it percolate etc. A lot of my life is also just resting. I lose about 2-5 hours of every afternoon to sleep or rest for example, where nothing productive happens. And I think one of the reasons I read so many manwha atm is that they're so easy to read comparatively, and so quick, and that's the only way I can really consume stories these days.

#asks and answers #what folks think they're seeing on the surface is often not is what is actually happening #those who track my wordcount on discord (where i update it)#will notice it's not been updated since the 17th #will i write anymore chapters between here and the end of the month?#i don't know #and if i don't #i will have to work even harder next month dsalkfjasfas #anyway yeah no most of your hard working creatives around you #cannot actually find the life-work balance that allows them to enjoy their lives and leisure time and their hobbies #even if they're writing about characters who are learning how to do those things #part of it is capitalism - it's hard to take a break when your antidepressants went up in price #(which is a broader ironic analogy to life in general)

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ahoyimlosingmymind · 3 months

Text

Teenage Dream by Olivia Rodrigo but make it Fitz Vacker

"When am I gonna stop being wise beyond my years and just start being wise? When am I gonna stop being a pretty young thing to guys?" <- Being treated like a trophy and a commodity (a line Biana could probably relate to as well)When am I gonna stop being great for my age and just start being good? <- This line is the definition of gifted kid burnout. When you're young, it's easy to receive praise. You are so ahead of the curve, you are so good... until you aren't. One day those praises disappear, and the encouragement can't be earned. You set the bar too high when you were little, and now you can't reach the height it's expected to be at now.

"Got your whole life ahead of you, you're only 19" <- Fitz is closest to being 19 out of the Keeper Crew apart from Wylie "But I fear that they already got all the best parts of me And I'm sorry that I couldn't always be your teenage dream" <- He's no longer palatable and easy to love. He's no longer the ideal that is expected by himself and by others. He's given all the good he has. and now he's tired, and he wants the curtain to close and the applause to fade, because his face hurts from smiling and the lights are too bright and the platform he's on keeps rising and he's afraid of heights. (I gave you all I have. Please stop asking for more. There's nothing left. I'm sorry- you still love me, right?)

"And when does wide-eyed affection and all good intentions start to not be enough?" <- it's easy to be forgiven when you're small and innocent. "When will everyone have every reason to call all my bluffs?" <- When will they realize it has never been real? When will they forget the good in me, and claim I've always been this way? "And when are all my excuses of learning my lessons gonna start to feel sad? Will I spend all the rest of my years wishin' I could go back?" <- He's prone to getting angry when he's sad and afraid. How many more times will they accept his apologies? How many more times until he is completely abandoned and wishing he was 11 years old again?

"They all say that it gets better, it gets better the more you grow Yeah, they all say that it gets better, it gets better, but what if I don't? They all say that it gets better, it gets better the more you grow Yeah, they all say that it gets better, it gets better, but what if I don't?" <- self explanatory <3

#kotlc #Fitz vacker #song lyrics #lyric analysis #olivia rodrigo #teenage dream

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mumms-the-word · 3 months

Note

tbh i'm actually kind of pissed at larian. regardless of if it's sticking it to hasbro or not, they're leaving the game in a potentially awful state and not delivering on promises they made, like the upper city. You also have SWEN talking about shit that could have been like ketheric's recruitment and what not, which stirs the pot even more and makes me angry. Like stop talking about it. we're already upset enough.

These are all very valid critiques, anon! I have many thoughts but I’ll put everything under the cut since I got a little long-winded because I’m passionate about video games in general.

I do play a bit of Devil’s Advocate here but please note I am not attacking you personally or trying to direct any hate towards anybody at all! This ask honestly gave me space to vent some thoughts I’ve had for months about this game. I did my best to offer nuanced perspectives and acknowledge my own biases. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion, including their own disappointments and praises for Larian, Swen, the actors, and all involved in the making/maintaining (or lack thereof) of BG3.

TLDR: We shouldn’t put Larian on a pedestal as the Best Studio Ever, but we don’t have to grab our pitchforks and say they’re the worst studio ever either. If BG3 is a disappointment it might be because Larian flew a little too close to the sun trying to squeeze 80% of a functional D&D experience into a digital video game package, when (in my opinion) those two game genres are almost inherently designed to not mesh well, disappointing one fan while satisfying another.

———

Point #1, Idk how much Larian is sticking it to Hasbro but Hasbro IS a greedy corporation who has no idea how to make video games and I very highly suspect they’ve been making demands of Larian’s team that are impossible to meet without destroying the work ethic (and health/mental health/financial stability, etc) of Larian’s team. Hasbro just sees dollar signs. Larian isn’t necessarily as interested in milking BG3 for all it’s worth.

If they were, we’d be paying for Upper City in a DLC, and we’re not. Instead they’re choosing to pivot to a fresh new project that isn’t beholden to Hasbro or the demands of WOTC. Does it feel like they’re abandoning the game? Yeah, kinda. But if Swen says that his team looked visibly relieved to move on to something new, that gives me warning bells. Not against Swen, but about the crunch standard of games industries as a whole and possibly against Hasbro or WOTC. I’d much rather his team take care of their very human selves than grind themselves to ultimate burnout working on a game that is functionally complete, if buggy in places and not satisfying for some players because they didn’t get the content they wanted.

There is no perfect game, after all.

And honestly I’d say the same of any AAA studio too. I am consistently frustrated with game studios firing whole departments for the sake of retaining profits and treating their employees like content robots. Games should not be made at the expense of anyone’s physical or mental health, but unfortunately that’s The Industry Standard. (And personally I think Larian or at least Swen is uncomfortable with that.)

(Also I think people forget that making a game the size of BG3 requires the talents and hard work of hundreds of people. Larian was working with, what, 400 people? And that was after they hired like 250+ to even rise to the challenge of making BG3. Who are we even pointing the finger at for all these issues? Swen? He’s one man.)

Should they have promised something they couldn’t deliver? No. But also, I have no idea what issues led them to cutting the content, either. What’s done is done.

BG3 will be an obsolete game in a year or soon anyway, not because Larian isn’t working on it anymore, but because the games industry is just So. Freaking. Big. and pumps out thousands of games a year. Like, I hate to say it, but people are already dropping BG3 for other games like Dragon’s Dogma 2 because DD2 is shiny, new, and has a bonkers character creator.

And there’s nothing wrong with that! We’re not built to play (or work on) a narrative-focused game for 5-7 years, regardless of what any die-hard Destiny fan tells you (note: multiplayers without narrative get a pass purely because the focus isn’t on the narrative, but on collaborative play).

If a game is no longer fun to play, move on and find something that scratches your itch. Go back and play old games! There are so many things out there to explore. I have a To Be Played pile literally right now, a backlog of games I haven’t tried out yet. I’m sure many others do too.

Point #2 (and here I could be wrong, if I’m not already wrong in my opinions above), but they’re not entirely abandoning the game like…at the drop of a hat. They’re still promising at least a handful of hotfixes and at least one more patch with new evil epilogue endings (among other things).

Does that get us Upper City? Likely not. Does that add enough content to give Wyll a more well-rounded storyline, elevate all the romances to Astarion levels of cutscenes and dialogue, and finish Karlach’s questline with an actual solution for her heart? Also likely not. Is it precious to be mad about these losses? No! Be mad!! Wyll deserves justice!!!

I’d love to explore Upper City. I’m a huge advocate for Wyll getting more/better representation. If I could save Karlach without throwing her into Avernus I would in a HEARTBEAT. But these things aren’t in the game, and they likely won’t be. Larian made decisions to meet a (self-imposed? Hasbro imposed? Industry-relevant?) deadline that are ultimately disappointing. We can absolutely acknowledge that we’re disappointed.

But I don’t necessarily think Larian is just being lazy about these decisions, though. At the end of the day we have no idea what contracts Larian is under, what hell the developers have been through, either from the game industry, Hasbro, rabid fans, or excessively cruel critics, or what technical/gameplay/scheduling/financial issues they ran into at various parts of development.

Like the Ketheric thing (Point #3). Was it bad PR to bring up that Ketheric was a “kill your darlings” decision late in development around the same time you’re openly promoting the end of your relationship with BG3? Yeah. Totally. But I’m not surprised they had to cut something like that. Games, movies, books do that all the time. How many deleted scenes from movies have we seen where it could have changed the whole narrative (maybe even made it better) if it had just stayed in? I can think of a handful. It sucks, but trust me, it hurts the writers and developers way more to cut content they’ve poured money and time and heart and soul into than it hurts us, the players who would never know the wiser if they hadn’t said anything.

But also, the game is ABSOLUTELY MASSIVE. On PC you have to have 150GB free just to install it. Can you imagine how big it would be if they had shoved everything they wanted into it, even if they had delayed the game a while to make it happen? 150GB is a lot.

For perspective, that puts it on par with a very, very, VERY tiny sector of PC games at about the same level (or higher) of GB requirements, including Red Dead Redemption 2 (a fantastic open world game that still holds up in 2024), Microsoft Flight Simulator (which requires 150GB because it’s literally just flying through high quality renders of actual Earth), Forspoken (everyone says all the GB went to graphics here and I believe them), Star Wars: Jedi Survivor (which only has about 50 hours of playable content, allegedly), basically any VR game, and ARK: Survival Evolved which comes in at a whopping 400 GB mostly because of DLC. In other words, games that big get that big either because of graphics or like a hundred DLCs.

BG3 manages to fit in gorgeous cinematics, a super complex spell-combat system, a more or less streamlined video game build for complex D&D combat rules and mechanics, 10 potential companions, 8 romances among those companions, several large maps to explore, and branching narratives that would take you days to read every scrap of dialogue for (I’ve downloaded the datamined files for Patch6, and there are whole leagues of dialogue, encounters, and bits that are in the game, unbugged, that most of us pass by because we don’t explore enough). You want to know where most of the GB goes? It goes towards sustaining a D&D combat/narrative structure that was originally never built with video game constraints in mind.

Do you know how many conditions/status effects there are in the game? Over 1100. 1100+ unique descriptions and titles for conditions that debuff or buff your character or your enemies, granting hundreds of actual gameplay affects. Do you know how many spells there are across the 12 playable classes and all unique spells for enemies and allies? Like 400, if we’re getting picky and splitting hairs over stuff like Rolan’s Magic Missile being different than the usual Magic Missile or if we’re splitting out something like Disguise Self into its 32 different variations. Each spell needs a different icon, a different graphic effect, and it needs to do the right kind of damage and cause the right kind of condition or effect, some of which are immediate, others which linger.

We can speak with dead with hundreds of characters. That’s a lot of dialogue. We can talk to ANY named NPC. That’s a lot of dialogue! We can talk to any animal, with or without speak with animals enabled. That’s a lot of dialogue!!

A single playthrough where I try to explore as much as possible takes me 150 hours or more. I have 500 hours in this game and I’ve only got 4 characters and I’ve only finished 2 of them. This game is mind-bogglingly big. Even if it’s not the biggest game in history ever, or even the biggest game by the time of its release, its BIG.

The biggest critique I would have here is one that I’ve had since I first started playing the game, and it’s that D&D systems and video games don’t mesh comfortably well. I think that Larian got distracted trying to make the ultimate D&D experience, catering to a demographic that is known to ignore plot and pursue shenanigans, and Larian felt the need to build in a lot of shenanigans.

I think they got a little overzealous about it, and that’s where we have missing content, and a lot of fluff that isn’t always plot-relevant. If the game feels unfinished, it’s because Larian started too many threads, and while there are endings to all of those threads, many of them feel rushed or unsatisfactory. Why do they feel unsatisfactory? Because we’re offered so much freedom early on, only to be pulled back into the much more limited narrative constraints of a video game at the end. Because the game has to end eventually, unlike a D&D campaign which could go on or explore many other possibilities. But by act 3 in a 150 GB game, we’re running out of time and space.

And yes that’s disappointing as hell and Larian could and arguably SHOULD have made different decisions on what to focus on.

But ultimately, you just can’t fit a full-on, any-choice-goes D&D experience in a game that needs to be packaged neatly enough to run on most PCs or consoles, and Larian was ambitious as hell to try. Contrary to popular belief, I think they did pretty freaking well given the challenge, and no, it isn’t perfect, and no, to confess to my own bias, I don’t have the same complicated history with the game that early access or release day players have because I bought the game like 2 months after it was out and patched twice. But they’ve clearly built a game that people love so much they’re upset there isn’t more of it, or at least upset it isn’t the best it can be.

But sometimes we have to be realistic too. I can only imagine how many more bugs or render issues we’d get if they did try to shove in Upper City at this point. Games can only be so big before they start to become too much for the systems that try to run them and I don’t want the games industry veering towards making games an elitist hobby for only the rich and elite who can afford expensive rigs and $100 games.

(And also, I’m not at all upset that for $70 bucks I got 500 hours of gameplay and I’m not 100% sick of it yet. When EA and Activision are getting players to pay hundreds in micro transactions and DLC and dangling extra maps and new missions behind paywalls? Bish, please, I’m good. You want to talk about an unfinished experience? Dragon Age: Inquisition made us pay for our epilogue content as a DLC. At least Larian built theirs in for free from the start.)

Anyway.

All that said, I’m sure if Larian could turn back the clock and start over, they’d make different decisions about what to keep, cut, and refine. But we’re here now.

If I want to see anything from Larian right now, it’s a dedication to fix ongoing bugs that make the game unplayable or that block the narratives that they have built so that they play correctly (like with the Minthara romance). IDEALLY I’d like to see them add more content for companions other than Astarion, to equalize the romance experiences, but I’m not holding my breath (again, considering things like game development, actor schedules, contracts, etc).

While I’m sad about the permanent loss of stuff like the Upper City and disappointed by all the rushed questlines, I’d rather them fix the bugs that make the game un-fun to play and bow out gracefully once they’re sure the game won’t need constant supervision.

Besides, they’re working on cross-platform mod support, and mods are gonna add and mess with the game for many years to come, so we can pivot to support them instead while Larian works on its next game (and hopefully learns from its mistakes with BG3).

#bg3 critical #bg3 #my thoughts #super long post #long post #larian critical #op/anon I appreciate you and your ask #my hyperfixation triggered and I almost didn’t post this :’)#anyways feel free to ignore

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tonberry-yoda · 1 year

Note

OMG HIII its saya helicopter anon!

heres another request for crocdad i hope this will be fun for you to write

What if we have caiman as a teen

Who is now shy to express his love like other teens unlike before :')

AYO BRING IN THE SCENARIO

✨kabooms✨

Reader is sad and is experiencing burn out so croc silently tries to comfort her, he is facing the open door from their bedroom and y/n is facing the other side and they are just hugging in silence standing

Awkward teen caiman walks past and sees the whole thing and is concerned for his mom but doesnt know how to help and he was about to sneak away to give them moment, he accidentally held eye contact with his dad

They doing the eyebrow and eye communication yu kno

Croc asks him to stay and comfort his mother andden

Caiman says hell no i can't, ill help you later and was about to walk away when croc goes "CAIMAN?"

Bro dashed away to reply to appear like he wasnt there and was chilling in his room

"YEAH?!"

"GET ME A GLASS OF WATER"

And boom from there croc silently guides caiman to act like a gentleman silently and guides him to comfort y/n

Like get her flowers, hug her, cook her something or something

What a gentlemanman :')

Again, you can take 1% of this idea, maybe it sparked smth or not take this request at all

HAVE A NICE DAYYYY

Just know that Im proud of yu ✨ :)

-🚁

Croc as a Father - Part 8

notes - I AM SO HAPPY THAT I KEEP GETTING THESE! I really love this series and I am so glad that a lot of people really love it too! Helicopter anon, thank you for the amazing idea! I am really glad I am here to write it for you <3 Have a super day and stay hydrated! EDIT: I just finished the fic and this has to be my best one yet! I really need to keep writing this series it is too damn fun! word count - 774 tags - @bari-saxxy

Caiman grew up to be a handsome young man. Dark hair just like his father and eyes just like his mother. But growing up made him harsher too. His goal was to become a warlord, like his father had formally been, so he toughened up a bit. He was tall and skinny, unlike his father, but he dressed just about the same and even slicked back his hair. Rings covered his fingers and through teenage rebellion, he even started smoking cigarettes.

He was a bit more to himself - his only real friend being the bananagator you and your husband had given him for his birthday so many years ago - but he didn't mind because in the end, he was working now and he would always be working to get his goal, no matter what.

None of the changes of your sweet boy bothered you - though you wish he wouldn't smoke in the house so much. But he definitely was his father's son, that was for sure.

What was bothering you, however, was the burnout you had been experiencing lately. Work had really taken a turn for the worse as you and Croc got older and both of you could barely keep up, especially since you were wanted by the Marines. Running and running without a break, you could barely see how your son was doing anymore.

Finally, you had enough.

"Crocodile, I don't want to live like this anymore." you cried, hiccupping on your own tears. You sat on your bed with your face buried in your hands while Crocodile sat on a chair in front of you.

"Darling," he placed his hand on your back and rubbed in circles. "I know you don't. And I don't either, but right now, we don't have a choice."

Caiman was walking past the door to get some breakfast when he heard your sobs coming from the room. He stopped at the door and peeked in. He didn't know what to do. The old Caiman would've immediately ran to your side, but something in him couldn't do that anymore. So he just watched, trying to hide that he was slightly tearing up from hearing you cry. Now that he thought about it, he had never really seen you cry before.

While Crocodile was comforting you, he looked up and made direct eye contact with Caiman, who jumped back a bit. Croc signaled with his eyes for Caiman to come in, but he shook his head.

Before the boy could dash away, Crocodile shouted, "Hey Caiman?!" And smirked.

Caiman ran off and from the other room yelled back, "Yeah?!"

"Could you bring me a glass of cold water please?!"

Caiman groaned under his breath, but reluctantly called back, "Yeah!"

A few minutes later, Caiman came in with a nice glass of cold water and Crocodile pulled up a chair for him. He handed you the water and you thanked him, sniffling.

As you were taking a couple of sips, Crocodile leaned down to Caiman's ear and whispered, "I'm going to clean your mother's work-space so she doesn't feel overloaded. Comfort her, okay?"

"But I don't know how to do that!" he whispered back.

"Make her something to eat. Ask her how she is. You know exactly what to do, Caiman, but you're just too scared to do it. Nothing makes a warlord like a gentleman, okay?"

Caiman just nodded and watched his father walk out of the room. He took a deep breath and ran his hands down his face.

You looked over at your son and went to apologize for crying, but he stopped you.

"What's wrong, mom?" he asked, wrapping a blanket over your shoulders.

"Just a lot going on," you chuckled, wiping your own tears. "Being out on the seas isn't easy."

"Yeah, I know." he laughed.

"Are you sure you're prepared to live like this?" you asked.

"Of course I am. And I am more than willing to help, mom. I don't want you or dad to be stressed out. Just let me know if you need anything. I can't become a warlord without you guys. We're family. I need you."

You teared up. Your son had grown up to be so beautiful.

"Thank you, Caiman." you said, pulling him into your arms.

"Do you want something to eat?" he asked, standing up.

"That sounds wonderful, baby."

He pressed a kiss to your forehead and told you that he loved you all while his father watched with a proud smile through the crack of the door.

You both raised an amazing young man who was bound to do great things, you just knew it.

~~~~~

papa croc masterlist | pinned post

2023 @tonberry-yoda – do not repost or claim ANY of my work as your own! likes, reblogs, and comments are not only welcome, but appreciated

~~~~~

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lemonykoo · 1 year

Text

burnt out - tighnari

Pairing: Boyfriend!Tighnari x Student!Reader

Genre: Angst, I guess? Comfort later, though. Female reader.

Word Count: 2.5k

Notes: You’ve been working toward your degree at the Academiya for four years now, and as the days go on, Tighnari starts to notice that your diligence to your studies has gone by the wayside. Just when he thinks he has to have a talk with you, it’s brought to his attention that you aren’t just slacking off, but that there’s a bigger problem at hand. (Very self-indulgent lmao.)

Warnings: mentions of burnout and all the things that come of it! Tighnari is unaware of the situation so he’s a bit brash at first. (He also might be a little OOC im so sorry.) Vomiting is also mentioned – not graphically, just mentioned a few times. Also not entirely for sure how the Academiya runs in genshin but I structured it kind of like college to make it easier for me :)

“So, I got the exam, right? And I looked at the first page and was like, ‘Whoa, I know this stuff!’ And I just went through the whole test like that, so I think I did well! There were a couple I was confused about, but I think I got them, so I’m not too worried.” You stood from the crouched position you had been in and sighed, wiping the sweat from off your brow as you waited for an approving response from your boyfriend.

“You always study hard, so I would expect nothing less from you,” was the response Tighnari gave and oh, how damaging to you would it soon turn out to be.

It was a slow process, of course. It wasn’t like you just woke up one day and decided that you had no urge to even step foot on the premise of the Academiya, let alone even gaze in its direction. It was a gradual feeling that started to bubble within after four years of diligent studying and research to graduate and obtain a much sought-after degree in biology. This was a goal you had always been passionate about. Ever since you were young, you always wanted to learn more about the world around you, specifically nature’s role in it. You were still in the process of trying to write your thesis, with the help of your just as diligent boyfriend, Tighnari. Of course, the thesis work was all you – he was just there for support and to help out when needed. A lot of your time together was spent outside in the rainforest, collecting data and observing nature do it’s thing.

You spend a lot of time at Pardis Dhyai, since a lot of your research revolves around botany, but you also travel to Gandharva Ville not only to see your lover but also for research purposes. Your time spent in the rainforest with the forest watchers was always brief and you’d return back to Pardis Dhyai almost as soon as you left, but your stays have gotten longer. At first, you said it was because your work that needed to be done back at “home base” as you referred to it as didn’t have to start as soon as you woke up in the morning but then you changed your story to “Gandharva ville has more materials I need for my research.” Either one was acceptable; after all, students do tend to travel all over the place to gather material and data for their research topics. It wasn’t uncommon for you to even go someplace else in Sumeru for a couple days. The only problem with your second excuse was that you spent more time in Tighnari’s abode rather than outside inspecting plants and their habitats.

“You’re still here? I thought you said you were going to go out in the field today,” Tighnari said, seeing that you sitting at his desk, a notebook opened in front of you. The pages were blank except for a few scribbles and doodles. When he had left earlier, you had told him you needed to go into the field and see how the plants you were observing were doing since you hadn’t since last week. But it appeared that you hadn’t even attempted to leave.

“Oh, yeah, I had a lot to do this week so I thought I’d take it easy today, actually,” you answered.

“Understandable,” was all he replied with, a feeling of doubt surfacing that was quickly shaken away.

This theme of your “I need to blah blah blah” statements and then never actually doing what “needed” to be done became a very frequent occurrence. “Didn’t you say the test this week was super hard? I haven’t seen you touch your notes once in the past two days,” Tighnari noted as you ate lunch one day by a stream.

“It’s not until later in the week so I have time,” you said, shrugging. He decided not to press the issue further, putting his trust in the fact that you’d most likely just study when it came closer to time. Though, he’d really suggest starting now, but oh well.

And it continued like this, but you’d come back and explain that you didn’t do as well on that test as you thought you would followed by, “I should’ve studied more, but I just felt like I couldn’t.” Tighnari asked why you would return so late to Pardis Dhyai when you had work to do there, but you’d just brush it off and say that you could take care of it, you just might have to work longer one day. He’d stand at the entrance of your little “home base” and wave at you, telling you to have a nice rest of the week with a voice in his head saying that something was up with you but he just couldn’t put his finger on it.

You were always so diligent with your schoolwork. So focused and never missing a due date. You were always in the field, ready to learn and make observations. You’d go through notebook after notebook, filling the pages with endless pieces of knowledge and experiences you had come across, completely immersing yourself in your work and loving every minute of it. But now, you were different. Things had changed over these past four years. You weren’t as eager to go out in the field with him and when you were, the enjoyment didn’t last long and you’d get restless and distracted from the tasks at hand. Your stays at his place consisted of basically just you sleeping over until you stated you were ready for him to walk you back to Pardis Dhyai. You didn’t have your nose in books or notes anymore or ask him to quiz you for your next test. It was almost as if you weren’t even a student anymore. Were you just… becoming lazy? Surely not, as that was so unlike you. Perhaps… you had grown to dislike your degree choice, or realized that you just didn’t like it as much as you thought.

Tighnari decided he needed to address this concern of his to you and figure out what was going on. Maybe you just needed a little push to get going again! If that was the case, he was always there to encourage you. Hopefully you hadn’t forgotten all the times he’s helped you with your research, because if you were stuck and didn’t know how to continue with it, he’d totally help you out just as he had before.

When Tighnari entered Gandharva Ville, he was approached by Collei before he could reach his home. “Master Tighnari!” the young girl greeted. “I was waiting for you to return. I was wanting to ask you if there’s anything I could do to help (Y/N)? I didn’t know she was sick and I feel bad for not keeping her company while you were gone.”

“Sick?” Tighnari echoed. “I didn’t know she was sick, either.” His brows furrowed and gazed off into the distance, looking at his home and wondering what he had missed while he was out.

“Oh?” Collei bit at the inside of her cheek as she followed the male’s gaze. “I figured (Y/N) hadn’t ate yet, so I made her a couple pita pockets so she could take a break from her studies. When I walked in, though, she was sitting on the ground with her head in her hands. She said she had just thrown up.”

A lot of thoughts were running through the forest ranger’s mind. At first, he had wanted to retort and say that you probably weren’t studying earlier, but rather drawing meaningless doodles in the pages of your notebook that should have your work written on them instead. But you had thrown up? Tighnari didn’t even waste another second, but instead headed straight to his home.

Upon entering, you were seated on the bed, braiding a series of small flowers together into bracelets, something you’d always do when you were little and out playing in the forest with your friends. You had made several of these for Tighnari in the past, all of which were dried and turning to dust somewhere in a vase in his house. You looked up before going back to your braiding. “I know, I know. I’m not studying. You don’t have to say anything this time,” you said softly, a bit of strain in your voice.

Ouch. “That’s not-“ he sighed, “Collei said you were sick?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. I just threw up a little. My throat still hurts a bit, but I’m fine,” you responded, a bit of what he assumed was embarrassment written on your face.

Your boyfriend observed the space around you. A half-eaten pita pocket lay on a plate, discarded on his desk, cold and stale. Next to it, your books were open and your notebook was out and he was surprised to see that you had actually been studying. “Why did you throw up? Had you eaten something previously that upset you?”

“No,” you replied. “I hadn’t eaten anything all day until Collei made lunch. I had been doing work all morning since you left.” As Tighnari observed you, he made note of the redness of your eyes. He remembered when he left this morning on his forest ranger duties, giving a hasty kiss on your cheek before he departed, hoping not to wake you up since you were still asleep. That was another thing – you’ve spent a lot of your time taking naps or just laying in bed until it was time to eat, but sometimes, you’d even skip that. More pieces started to fit together in his mind.

Before he could hit you with another round of questions to try to deduce why you had gotten sick earlier, you said something that tied it all together for him.

“I was just doing some of my work and I got overwhelmed. Before I knew it, I felt the need to vomit and thankfully-”

The rest of your statement about how you got out and away from Tighnari’s things just before you vomited didn’t matter because it suddenly made sense now. He just… he just didn’t know how to tell you because it was obvious you weren’t aware of the situation.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better,” he said, coming to sit next to you on the bed. He picked up one of the carefully made bracelets and ran his hand through it before taking it off and laying it back down. The silence was unbearable to him. “About what you said earlier, though, I’m sorry for always getting onto you for not studying. It’s really none of my business. I just know how much you want this degree and I don’t want to see you give up on it.” Maybe he could ease you into this conversation to make things easier.

You exhaled a tired sigh. “It’s okay. I know I should study more. I just… don’t always feel like it and when I do go to study, like today, I just get so… sick. I threw up last week, too, in Pardis Dhyai. I don’t know what’s going on, to be honest.”

“Do you think that maybe you’re just burnt out?”

Your eyes widened a bit, and you peered up at him as he looked at you, his eyes full of concern and worry. You quickly looked away, your fingers fumbling with the flower bracelet in your hand. “No. How could I be burnt out when I love what I do?”

“I understand thinking that, but (Y/N), it’s more common than you’d think.” He shifted his position to be a bit closer and he gently grabbed one your hands to still your fidgeting. “You’ve worked so hard for so long, it’s normal for this to happen.”

“Yeah, but I always take breaks,” you retorted. “I shouldn’t be burnt out already. Not like this.”

His thumb rubbed gentle, loving circles into the back of your palm. “Even before you joined the Academiya, you were working on what your thesis would be and what research you would do. You’ve put in so much time for so long.” He paused, watching a tear drop from the corner of your eye. “You haven’t mentioned your thesis in a while, either.”

“They keep getting rejected,” you hiccupped, pulling your hand away from his. You turned away, feeling a sense of shame because of the position you were in. You pulled your knees up to your chest and let out a shaky breath, feeling the sick, overwhelmed feeling from earlier settle into your stomach again. “I keep trying to come up with something new and interesting, but it’s never enough. I want to keep trying because I love this – I love the research, the new things I discover, the people and places. But ever since my third thesis was rejected, I just felt… I just felt sick every time I think of doing field work.”

Tighnari didn’t know how best to comfort you in this situation. If it was him, he would just want to be left alone to regain his composure, but he knew you didn’t function like that. He moved his position to sit beside you once again and he placed an arm around your waist to pull you toward him. “It’s not uncommon to get your thesis rejected, y/n, so don’t let that discourage you-”

“But it keeps happening,” you cried, your tears dropping onto his clothes. “I don’t feel like this dream of mine is even meant for me anymore. Maybe I’m not cut out-”

“Hey, hey,” Tighnari interrupted you, his voice firm. “Don’t even begin to think like that, because it’s not true. Some of the smartest people out there have gotten multiple theses rejected. That doesn’t mean they weren’t capable of achieving what they wanted. It just means it took a little extra time. And there’s nothing wrong with that. But there is something wrong with you discrediting yourself and your abilities, because you are more than capable of reaching your goals and everyone around you can see that.”

“I’m just worried that if I don’t achieve this, I’ll let you and everyone else down,” you murmured.

“You could never let me down,” he said, sincerity clear in his words. Your lips quivered and you felt more tears surface as you turned to hug your boyfriend. Those were some of the exact words you needed to hear at the moment, and you would most likely need to him say them again at a later time, but right now was all you needed to feel a spot of hope begin to grow inside you. Once he was sure your cries had calmed down enough for you to listen to him again, Tighnari planted a kiss on the top of your head before he pulled back to give you another on your nose. “And you know I’m always here to help you, no matter what it is. I’m rooting for you, Collei is rooting for you, and I’m sure the other forest watchers are, too. We all know that you’re capable of accomplishing this, now you just have to believe in yourself.”

#genshin impact #Genshin #genshin tighnari #tighnari #tighnari x reader #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #lex’s writing 💫

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