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hutchhitched · 4 years

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On Fandom

In light of recent kerfuffles, I decided to share this. Communication is helpful for fandom discussions. That’s why I’m offering up my perspective.

@little-lynx, your artwork is beautiful, and I thoroughly enjoy seeing it on my dash. Your post sharing how and why you joined the fandom is fascinating, and I’m grateful you trusted us with it. I hope you continue sharing and drawing for stories that inspire you, and that you’re able to find more stories and authors that do. That’s not to say you’re not doing enough. Whatever you want to share is awesome. I only say that because there’s so much Everlark out there that is wonderful. I hope you’re able to find more that you enjoy. If you ever read something of mine and are inspired to create, I will be thrilled. If not, I will continue to appreciate what you contribute to the fandom. Welcome, and I hope you enjoy being part of The Hunger Games community on tumblr (and AO3 and FFN, if you find works there).

@shesasurvivor, I hear you. I know what it feels like to be overlooked despite being part of a fandom for a long time. I understand the frustration of seeing others celebrated and not being one of those. You’ve been here longer than I have, and you’re one of the few who takes stands that might not be expressed by many but are shared by more than you know. You are an important part of the fandom, and I’m glad you’re still here. I hear you. I see you. You are amazing.

@katnissdoesnotfollowback, you also have very valid points. I know what it feels like to put everything you have into a fandom and it not being enough for some people. I know what it feels like to be overlooked and how it feels to be celebrated. The former sucks, and the latter is wonderful. You are an important part of the fandom, and I appreicate what you can share and wish you well when you’re not able to be here with us.

It’s always tricky to recommend blogs and lists because feelings invariably get hurt—no matter how inclusive they are. I don’t envy those of you who have tried or are attempting to make those. You’re braver than I am.

That said, it is demoralizing to be left off lists repeatedly. It’s equally frustrating to produce works and not feel like the images and/or stories are getting any attention. This is true for new(er) people who are trying to join a fandom (@mandelion82 and @endlessnightlock come to mind), former authors who’ve returned (@awhiskeyriver), and those who were around long ago and stayed for the long haul (I am one of those). Each of us wants to be part of the community. It sucks to feel left out (whether intentional or not). You are all amazing, and I see/hear you.

Yesterday, @eiramrelyat posted fanart she created for one of my stories as a surprise, and I was over the moon. It was a total surprise, and her work is stunningly gorgeous. I am beyond thankful for the gift, and I hope she understands how much it means to me. I’ve been fortunate in the past to receive artwork from @ombradellaluna and @the-tesseract-wrinkling-time and story banners from @xerxia31, @papofglencoe, @maddenmarvels, @burlesonspride, and @ronordmann, and from those who are no longer active on tumblr (loving-mellark, @akai-echo, and @myusernamehere). I am beyond thankful for your gifts.

I’ve been left off lists before, and it’s painful. Although I’m never angry at being left out, I’m often more discouraged and befuddled. I’m always fascinated to see who others view as “essential” while leaving off others. As someone who has been part of the Everlark fandom since 2013, it seems that my name should be recognizable by now. Since I’m often omitted, maybe I’m wrong. It’s not the fault of newcomers for not knowing who I am when my name doesn’t appear on lists of active blogs. How could the new people find me? The frustration comes from being a long-time contributor to the fandom and still not being deemed essential. @lovely-tothe-bone and @mrspeetamellark have both heard my frustration and reached out to me about it. Thank you both for doing so.

I have published 107 Everlark stories on AO3 and more on tumblr.

I help run @seasonsofeverlark and @talesofpanem.

I helped create the Everlark Holiday Bingo challenge that’s currently running. It would be amazing if those who are writing holiday stories would consider participating. So far, only six people from the Everlark fandom have contributed. One bingo fill is awesome if that’s all you have time to contribute. If you want to do more, please do.

I have written for @nanowrimo seven times.

I have participated in the following charity anthologies/auctions: @s2sl (twice), @fandom4lls (twice), @mores2sl (three years with five stories), @loveinpanem-blog’s A Candle for the Caribbean, @fandomforoz, @fandomtrumpshate (two years with five auctions), and @what2finish (one year with two auctions).

I have participated in the following challenges: nine out of 12 rounds of @promptsinpanem with 21 stories posted, every round of @everlarkficexchange with 16 stories posted and four more forthcoming, three years of @thgseasonofhope (this year’s not yet posted), 17 stories for @talesofpanem, eight stories for @seasonsofeverlark (with one forthcoming), three stories for @everlarkbirthdaydrabbles, 19 stores for @d12drabbles, one story for @loveinpanem-blog’s Valentine’s challenge, two multi-chaptered stories for @everlarkchristmasgifts, one multi-chaptered story for @everlarkvalentinesgifts, three stories for @everlarkianarchives, two stories for @fyeah-everlark’s Secret Santa exchange, three stories for @the-everlark-games, two rounds of the @everlark-your-own-adventure challenge, one for @winterinpanem, one for (the now defunct) wmashgchallenge, one for the Everlark drabble challenge, and one for the Peeta Mellark masturbation series.

Besides those things, I’ve also collaborated with other writers and artists (thanks, @deinde-prandium, @xerxia31, and @thegirlfromoverthepond), and I’ve published more stories that weren’t part of any official challenge. I’ve done these things because I enjoy writing and think it’s important to support the fandom and worthy charitable causes. I don’t participate because I’m looking for praise (although it’s always nice to hear from those who enjoy what I’ve created). My point is that if participating in all those things doesn’t make me an active, essential part of the Everlark fandom or make my name on tumblr or AO3 recognizable, then I simply don’t know what else to do.

As a historian, I think it’s important to know the history of the fandom, so it’s understandable and commendable to read the “classics” of Everlark. There’s a reason Dickens and Chaucer and the Bronte sisters and Edgar Allen Poe are famous. They’ve created stories that have stood the test of time. There are also new gems like The Hunger Games and Harry Potter and The Hating Game. Newer writers are vital to the success of a fandom, as well. I’ve been reading Everlark for seven years, and I still have countless seminal works I’ve not yet read. The same goes for newer writers. I’m trying, but it can be overwhelming. I’m doing the best I can while working as a full-time professor during a global pandemic, writing my own stories, being an active member of my church, being a good aunt to my nephews, supporting my friends and family (many of whom have health problems), and joining another fandom. I’m doing the best I can.

This is longer than most people will want to read, I’m sure, but please know you are not alone in feeling what you do. So many of us feel left out or ignored. So many of us are celebrated. So many of us mean the world to one or more readers/viewers. We all have our reasons for being here, and we are all part of this community. I hope I’ve contributed in at least a tiny way in making you feel welcome while you’re here.

Lots of love. Don’t send anon hate to me or anyone else. Happy holidays!

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #everlark fandom #the hunger games #the hunger games fandom #i'm really tired

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obsidianfr3sk · 3 years

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true colors

@renegadesnet event 10: pride

↪ [ “But everything was temporary. And pain was one of those things. Well, except love. Everything but love was temporary. Or that was what he liked to believe.” ]

Summary: Two years after the supernova, after Tamaya notified them the gearboxes that contained the lights had gotten soaked and that she needed the money to buy more before the next day (June 1st), Simon realized they were not enough for him anymore.

Simon wanted a bigger flag.

No. He wanted two. The biggest pride flags he could find.

AO3

Hello, friends!! I hope you’ve been having an excellent pride month and have been eating a lot rainbow cake and pissing off a lot of conservatives with the mere fact of your wonderful existence:’) As my contribution to this month and the event organized by @renegadesnet, I decided to write a fic focused on my favorite gay dads and their sons (bc I’m me, and you should have seen this coming.)

Before you read, I want to give a trigger warning: at the start of a fic I talk about a homophobic attack, which is not graphic or violent per se (it’s someone in the middle of the night taking away the flag they put outiside the house), and I do discuss about internalized homophobia during some parts of the story. If you read it and are sensitive to this kind of stuff, proceed with caution and take care of yourself <3

Also, this entry is a collaboration with my talented mother @healing-winston-pratt, who is going to be uploading some fanart of this in a near future, so keep an eye on that👀 she’s the best skjhkjds thank you for accepting to collaborate, I feel this is a great bonding activity and I hope we can do this more often✨

I need to update my tag list because a lot of the people who were included are not active as active as they were before/changed their URLs. But I’m going to tag @the-wee-woo-rita @lackadae @all-weather-is-bad @chiyuki-hiro bc you guys are the only ones who are still active users who I had on my previous tag list lol

With that said, I hope you enjoy this fic. I think that despite the angsty parts, it came out really fluffy and domestic, it was fun to write. And to all my queer silbings who are reading this: I am very proud of you.

But I see your true colors shining through.

I see your true colors, and that's why I love you.

So don't be afraid to let them show.

Your true colors,

true colors are beautiful like a rainbow

Simon couldn’t remember a time when he didn’t know he was gay.

There was a time when he didn’t know he was gay, of course. He was probably too young to even comprehend the meaning behind that word. And there was also a moment in his life when he felt embarrassed about it, and sad, and angry, and really, really scared, and probably thought that no matter how hard he tried, he was never going to be happy living the life he wanted to live.

That the pain was never going to end. That he was going to be miserable for the rest of his existence, and that maybe, there was no point in existing if he was going to stay like that until the day he died.

But everything was temporary. And pain was one of those things.

Well, except love. Everything but love was temporary. Or that was what he liked to believe.

That was the reason why, the first year after the Day of Triumph, he told Hugh they should get a rainbow flag for their house. They went to one of the first stores that opened at the mall (that had just been remodeled after twenty years of being abandoned) and bought one at a not so affordable price. Simon offered himself to install it on one of the fence pillars and had to spend thirty minutes listening to Hugh telling him that maybe he should let him do it, that the ladder Kasumi had lent them was ratty, and that Simon was going to fall.

Fortunately, Simon didn’t. He did almost fall, though, when he was about to pass out from stress because seeing Hugh getting all anxious, made Adrian cry and he started to basically beg him to come down, given that now he was convinced he was going to fall, and hearing his dad saying “Look what you’ve done to the kid, Simon” didn’t help at all to make Adrian (or Simon) feel better.

That night, there was a thunderstorm and Adrian used it as an excuse to sleep on their bed. As soon as he cried himself to sleep, two hours later, after their dads did everything in their power to calm him down, hugging him, giving him kisses, and assuring him his aunt Tamaya wasn’t going to let the storm hurt them, Simon raised his hand to high-five Hugh and tell him that they were amazing parents, just to realize he was already asleep. Simon silently judged him for sleeping so soundly while his son was having a crisis instead of sleeping.

When he woke up (at five in the morning) Adrian was looking out their window, with the Baby Indomitable blanket on his shoulders. The sky was still cloudy, but it wasn’t raining anymore.

“Darling, what are you doing?,” Simon told him. “Today’s Sunday. Let your daddy and I get some more sleep—”

“The storm took our flag,” Adrian blurred out.

Hugh was already awake too. “What?”

“You said the storm wasn’t going to hurt us,” Adrian said, turning around to see them, “but the storm took our flag.”

Simon got out of bed, looked through the window...

And, yes, the flag was completely gone.

But for some reason, Simon knew it hadn’t been the storm.

“Why would the storm do something like this?” Adrian asked.

Simon didn’t know how to answer that. Luckily, Hugh did.

“Because the storm is homophobic, son.”

Adrian laughed out loud and then asked his dads if they could have pancakes for breakfast. He had already forgotten about the storm and the flag.

They didn’t. Neither of them ever forgot about it.

While Simon and Adrian ate their pancakes, Hugh went to his office because, according to him, he needed to check something. When Adrian finished his breakfast and went back to his dads’ room to watch TV, Simon stayed in the kitchen, doing the dishes, and Hugh finally came downstairs. He was pretty quiet, and Simon thought that it probably was because he had told him to eat the burnt pancakes he didn’t dare to throw away, but after he finished them all, he said:

“I lied.”

Simon threw a glance at him. “When did you lie?”

“When I said the storm was homophobic,” Hugh answered.

“Well, of course, you lied, love. Storms don’t have strong political opinions about gay people.”

Hugh didn’t laugh. “What I mean is— that it wasn’t the storm.”

Every joke Simon’s brain could come up with disappeared at that moment. So he continued doing the dishes, and Hugh, thinking he hadn’t made himself clear, continued talking.

“It was someone else. It was a person. I saw them on—”

“I know,” Simon interrupted him. “I know. I’ve always known.”

But even if Simon knew, he still told Hugh to show him the footage because four eyes were better than two (especially considering that the owner of those first two eyes needed to wear glasses). It was all useless, though; the storm made the image all blurry, and the only thing they could see was someone taking it and running away in the middle of the night.

Simon wanted to think that it was just some dumb teen whose friends had challenged him to do it. But when it came to things like those one never really knew.

On Monday, they had promised Adrian to take him to the park that was a few blocks away so they could teach him how to fly a kite, but the thought of going out made him feel as if something bad was going to happen to them if they did, so Simon told Adrian that he and Hugh were feeling sick and that they would stay in their room to get some rest. Adrian asked them if they minded that he stayed there too because he was in the middle of watching a movie he had never seen before.

“Only if we can watch it with you,” Simon answered.

It was a weird day to be alive. They really just stayed there, watching silly cartoons with their kid and listening to him ranting about the weird proportions those characters had.

During the afternoon, Adrian told them he was hungry, so Simon went downstairs to look for something they could eat. He was thinking that maybe they should order something from that Chinese restaurant Tamaya had taken him the other day, when Hugh entered the kitchen and told him Adrian had asked him if he could bring him water.

Simon felt his hands were trembling while he looked inside his wallet for the paper where he had written the restaurant’s phone number.

“Do you want to get another flag?” Hugh asked him.

And something hurt.

Something hurt inside of him. Something started to cry, and to scream, and to flicker, trying to make him invisible to the world.

And it told him, the same way Adrian had told him he was hungry, that someone had taken him by surprise and made a deep cut on his chest.

But Simon didn’t allow it to come out.

He just said: “No.”

And Hugh answered him: “Me neither.”

He called the Chinese restaurant to order some food, while Simon went to their room with Adrian again and cuddled with him, trying to tend to the wounds of that something that was bleeding out inside of him.

Little Simon was crying, and screaming, and flickering, and needed adult Simon to take care of him.

The next day, they talked about the incident with the rest of the Council during their lunch break. It was one of those few occasions the six of them were together in the same room during their work hours. Tamaya was furious about the flag situation. She ranted for a good five minutes without anyone interrupting her about how fucking horrible people were and that she was going to find that little piece of shit and cut his hands off. Kasumi nodded in approval while drinking some horchata she had bought for herself, probably thinking about how to ask Tamaya to let her join her revolution (something she didn’t need to do, since Tamaya always included Kasumi in everything she did). Evander, on the other hand, was very quiet, something that made him feel a little bit relieved because he was not a sensitive person and Simon didn’t want him to... Evander the situation.

He didn’t say anything insensitive that day, though.

In fact, he said something… helpful, even.

“What about a flag made of light?”

Hugh rubbed his eyes and Simon knew what he was going to say before he opened his mouth.

Because he said that phrase constantly.

“Shut the fuck up, Evander.”

But Evander didn’t shut up. “Dude, think about it. No one would be able to take down a flag made of light.”

And everyone realized that, now, it was not only one of those strange occasions when the six of them got together to have lunch during their work hours; it was also one of those strange occasions when Evander had an idea that was actually good.

So after spending another hour discussing how they were going to make it work, they decided they were going to lit up the building in rainbow-colored lights.

Tamaya and Hugh were the ones in charge of almost all the operation because Evander said he had already given them the idea, so he didn’t need to do anything else (and then got mad at Hugh when he told the media he was the one who came up with it). Kasumi helped them, but was especially insistent about putting a trans pride flag somewhere in the building, and after they agreed with her, she personally hung it on the main entrance of Headquarters.

They started turning the lights on each night of June since that yeat.

Hugh and Simon still didn’t get a flag. Three nights after they told their friends about what had happened during the thunderstorm, Simon was woken up by the sound of someone crashing against the trash cans and almost jumped out of the window with his dagger on hand to slay whoever was trying to break into their house, but when he peeked out to see what was going on, he realized the “robber” was Kasumi, who had put a bunch of small pride flags on some pots they kept on their porch and started crying as soon as she realized Simon was watching her, not because she was upset the surprise she had for them had been ruined, but because now she was covered in trash.

(That week was like a sign Georgie was sending them from the afterlife to tell them they needed to install a better security system.)

Those were the only flags they kept around the house. They were small and discreet, and, most importantly, no one had taken them away. Why? Well— because they listened to Georgie’s sign and installed a better security system. Not because there weren’t any more homophobes out there who were willing to do it.

Until that moment, those flags (the little ones Kasumi had given them in a rather unconventional way and the one made of light that Evander had come up with) had been more than enough for them. But, two years after the supernova, after Tamaya notified them the gearboxes that contained the lights had gotten soaked and that she needed the money to buy more before the next day (June 1st), Simon realized they were not enough for him anymore.

Simon wanted a bigger flag.

No. He wanted two.

The biggest pride flags he could find.

***

That was the reason why, after having pancakes for breakfast (because it had rained during the night), he took the car, took the other three people living in that house with him, and after he was able to read the map, they arrived at a store that, among other things, sold flags like the ones they were looking for.

“I want one too,” Adrian told them when they were at the flag section of the store. “For my room, you know. And I want to get ones for Danna and Nova because I don’t think they have any. They would’ve told me.”

Usually, when Adrian asked for something Simon hadn’t agreed to buy him, like some candy, an action figure, or a pair of sneakers, he would turn around and ask him if he had the money to buy any of those things himself, which would anger him so much he would stop wanting that certain thing.

But that day, he felt like buying them everything they wanted. As if money grew on trees (something he always told his kids didn’t happen.)

“Of course, darling,” he answered, “get them everything you want. It’s pride month.”

“It’s May 31th,” Max said. He was inside the shopping cart Hugh had grabbed the second they entered. It was something he always did, even if they weren’t going to buy a lot of things because, according to him, it felt weird and wrong not to.

“It’s almost pride month,” he corrected himself.

“So can I get something for Nova?” Adrian asked again, just to make sure.

“You can get something for Nova,” Hugh assured him, smiling a little bit.

Adrian quickly turned around and started looking for the flag he wanted while texting Nova about something Simon couldn’t read (not like he was trying to, anyway).

After making sure Adrian stayed on the same aisle as them, they started walking around, gazing at the flags and posters available. Simon felt pretty progressive because he was able to name every single sexuality and gender they were supposed to represent. He imagined Hugh was doing the same thing, but with a lot more difficulty than him. He kept his eyes fixated on each flag longer than Simon did, as if he were trying to remember what they meant, and when he did, he pushed the cart (with Max still inside of it, playing a game on Hugh’s phone because he had forgotten his tablet at home), and the cycle began again.

But suddenly, Simon saw ones that he didn’t recognize.

After three seconds of standing in front of those little flags, someone hit him in the butt with their cart. He turned around immediately, ready to say a really threatening “Hey” to whoever had done it.

Hugh was the only other person who was there. He had been the one who had hit him with the cart.

Suddenly, Simon felt a little bit stupid for thinking someone else had done it.

The two of them maintained eye contact for a couple of seconds until Hugh started looking at his own hands grabbing the cart’s handle.

“Simon.” Before Simon could ask him what happened, he added, with a deep voice: “Move.”

Simon didn’t move. Instead, he hit the cart with his hips, just out of spite. Hugh hit him again with it, making Simon feel the unexpected need to grab the cart with his two hands and use his own weapon against him, but Max was there and they couldn’t act like kids in front of him. So he just hit the cart with his hips again, a little bit harder than the first time, and left it there.

He realized he was just going to be wasting his time asking Hugh if he knew what that flag was supposed to represent.

“Cherub,” he called Max. “Do you recognize this flag?”

Max looked up from the screen. He usually didn’t like it when he called him “cherub” in public, but this time, he didn’t seem mad about it. “Um… no? Ask Adrian—” and continued playing.

Adrian came back with a basket full of pins, and for a second, Simon almost asked him if he really was that naive to believe he was actually going to pay for all of them. But then, he realized that it was only the basket where they kept all of the pins they sold and that Adrian had taken it to show them to them.

“Look, they have so many pins here—” he started taking random pins “—this is the aromantic flag… this is the genderfluid flag—”

“Interesting,” Hugh interrupted him, “but which flag is that one?” and pointed at the one Simon didn’t recognize.

Max took a random pin from the basket and started looking at it with curiosity. Adrian almost didn’t pay attention to it, and after a few seconds, he said: “That one’s yours.”

Simon frowned and took one. It was a handheld flag with green and blue stripes, with a white one in the middle. He touched the polyester with his fingertips as if that was going to give him the ability to communicate with it.

“But we don’t have a flag,” Hugh told Adrian. “I’ve heard of the lesbian fl—”

Adrian took a pin of the lesbian flag. “This one.”

“Yeah— but gay men don’t have one.”

“The rainbow is ours,” Simon said, without taking his eyes away from the blue and green flag he was holding. “Like, it’s for all queer people.”

Hugh directed his attention to Adrian again. “You’re messing with us.”

“I do mess with you a lot,” Adrian admitted, “but this time I’m not because if I do and you get mad, you won’t buy me all the stuff I want to get.”

“Huh.”

Simon knew Adrian and Max were a lot of things, but "dumb" wasn't one of those. And Adrian was especially intelligent when it came to convincing his parents to buy him things.

So he decided to believe him.

“Well, I like it,” he said. Then, he asked Hugh: “Do you like it?”

Hugh grabbed one and observed it for a while. “I like that it has blue on it,” he finally answered, nodding a little bit.

Simon noticed Max was spacing out while playing with the pin he had taken, so he waved the flag on his face, making him laugh and sneeze because the damn thing had a lot of invisible dust Simon didn't notice at first.

“Oh, sh—”

“You know? Maybe we should get two of these,” Hugh said, waving it too, but in his case, not on the face of one of their kids. “For our offices.”

“Matching flags, very romantic.”

Max rubbed his nose. “Why don't you get a big one for the house?”

Simon quickly started to look everywhere on that aisle, and he saw a lot of big versions of the flags he had recognized before (and some of the ones Adrian had mentioned), but there were no gay flags in sight.

“Maybe next year, I guess,” he shrugged. “I don't think they have them here yet.”

He grabbed two of the rainbow flags that were there, inside their respective plastic bags, gave them to Max, and he put them on his lap, still holding that pin. Simon made a quick mental note to remind his future self they needed to pay for that (he didn’t know if it had to with the fact that Max had been spending a lot of time with Maggie, Nova’s sister, but he had developed this weird habit of stealing the most random objects one could think of. Luckily, he limited himself to stealing things from his dads and, one time, from a store.) (Kids went through weird phases when they were Max’s age.)

(Because… it was a phase, right?)

Adrian received a text. “Danna says that she already has a flag, so I’m getting her a pin,” he said after reading it. “And Nova says she wants one too.” Then, his whole face lit up. “And I could get one too so we match.”

“Copycat,” Simon accused him, jokingly. “Your dad and I got matching flags, and now you want to get matching pins with your girlfriend.”

Hugh shook his head, disappointed. “I cannot believe you have betrayed your own family like this.”

They stayed at the store another 30 minutes to buy some other things they needed for the house, and from time to time, when he or Hugh grabbed something, they pretended they didn’t see Adrian and said: “Um, but the copycat may be listening” to a point he told them to stop, and refused to forgive them until they agreed to buy him the flag he didn’t intend to get anymore, but now was going to.

He got the last bisexual flag there was at that store.

***

The first time the four of them were together in their room was last June. Something went wrong with the A/C system of the entire house and the only room where one could stay without having a heatstroke was theirs because their A/C hadn’t broken down for some reason. Adrian and Max were sleeping on the air mattress until Simon (who hadn’t been able to sleep lately) heard that one of them woke up and asked Hugh something. He sat down on the bed, at the same time Hugh moved a little bit to allow Adrian to lay down between the two of them.

Then, in the middle of the dark, his eyes met Max’s.

He looked tiny. Young. Pretty young.

And far away.

Simon couldn’t remember who did it. He didn’t remember who talked that night. It could have been him, even. But he was sure that, at that moment, someone whispered:

“Get in here, kid.”

And Max obeyed. He crawled, raised his arms towards them, and Hugh grabbed him carefully by the collar of his shirt and placed him between him and Adrian.

It was a peaceful night. The bed was big enough for the four of them, and Simon was able to sleep and actually rest for the first time in weeks.

At least until their A/C turned off with a weird sound, and the four of them woke up at the same time, sweaty, uncomfortable, and almost at 11 AM, not because they weren’t necessarily willing to stay there longer, but because the heat was starting to get unbearable and suddenly the bed was too small for three adults and a little kid that was not that little anymore.

“This isn’t a room, this is a— a freaking oven,” Hugh said, while Adrian tried to push him out of bed to get the hell out of there and seek comfort on the air mattress he had abandoned in the middle of the night.

“And we are the... cookies,” Max giggled.

“The turkey,” Simon added.

Max turned around. His whole face was red and his hair was a little bit wet. “The lasagna.”

Simon grabbed him by the cheeks; a discreet way to check if he had a fever. “The cake.”

“The ham.”

“The—”

“Dad. Move.”

Later that day, Simon called someone to fix the A/C, and that was the end of the story.

When they arrived at the house, Adrian wanted to hang his flag as soon as possible, on one of his room’s walls, but Simon insisted that they should iron it first so it looked nicer. Hugh said that he was planning on ironing the ones they had bought for the house and offered Adrian to do the same with his, but when he insinuated that he didn’t trust him enough not to mess up his flag the same way he had messed up his favorite shirt (the one he wanted to wear to take Nova to a nice place during her birthday), Hugh reminded him that the only reason he kept doing that for him was that Adrian didn’t know how to iron yet, and decided that he was going to use that moment as a teaching opportunity. Max made the mistake of laughing at his brother when he thought no one was paying attention to him, but Adrian was and dragged Max into the teaching opportunity with him.

Simon joined too. Just because.

And suddenly, the four of them were in their room again.

With the A/C on, of course.

He didn't know if Hugh had noticed, but he had been so invested in his own explanation, that after he finished ironing the two rainbow flags, he started ironing Adrian’s without realizing it. Adrian, instead of giving up and stop pretending he was paying attention, was looking, kind of mesmerized, how he opened the bag of his blue, purple, and magenta flag, and proceeded to put it on the ironing board, now telling him that when Georgie had tried to teach him how to iron his clothes, she accidentally burnt Evander.

Simon was half-listening to the story, half-listening to the music video that Max was watching on the TV. He was sitting on a big and old ottoman they had bought a long time ago but had never found the perfect place to put it and just stayed there for years until they forgot about it. Max was in front of him, sitting on the floor and resting his back on the ottoman, while he covered his blond hair with small butterfly hair clips he had found at the store and bought just because he thought they were cute (who knows, maybe Nova wanted them for Maggie, or Kasumi could use them for herself, she loved them when she was little).

When all the hair clips were on Max's hair, he took a small mirror they kept in the bathroom (but Simon borrowed it for a minute) and gave it to him so he could see the final result.

“Look at me,” Max exclaimed, laughing. “I look so pretty.”

Simon grabbed one of the hair clips and pulled it a little. “Butterfly hair clips are a popular trend this time of the year.”

“This is definitely going to make me the most popular kid in the playground.”

“Definitely.”

He leaned forward to start taking the butterfly hair clips off Max's hair and was putting them on Max’s open hand when he noticed that he hadn’t let go of the pin they bought him at the store.

(Simon did remember to pay for the thing, but if he hadn’t done it, Max wouldn’t have said anything.)

“That was really nice of you,” Simon said.

Max looked at him, confused. “What?”

“Getting a rainbow pin—” he took his other hand and started putting the hair clips on it so none of them would get lost “—to show support.”

Max didn't say anything and Simon continued with what he was doing. After the music video finished, and another one started playing, Hugh gave Adrian his flag and told him he could go and hang it in his room, and as soon as Max heard that too, he gave Simon the hair clips and followed his brother out of the room, asking him if he could help him with it.

Simon, after realizing the bag where the hair clips came in had been destroyed by Max punching holes in it with the pin, took one of the empty pill bottles he kept in his drawers and put them there.

He closed the pill bottle and realized Hugh had been gazing at him during all this time, slightly leaning on the ironing board. “What?”

“That’s my pill bottle, Si,” he told him.

“Ah—” Simon pressed his lips “—can I have it?”

“No.” Hugh smiled at him. “Yes, you can.”

“So funny. Come here—” and patted the bed mattress.

Hugh, being extremely careful not to touch the flags he just ironed, lied on the bed and sighed.

“Do you want me to play with your hair?” Simon asked him with a soft voice.

He closed his eyes and nodded.

After a while of the two of them just being silent, he said, “Hey… I heard what you told Max, by the way.”

“The butterfly hair clips trend?”

“The pin thing.”

“What about it?”

Hugh opened his eyes, just a little bit. “Just don't tell Max I told you, all right? Because he told me he wouldn't tell anyone else until he was sure, but… I think it's important the two of us know,” he explained.

Simon was starting to feel his palms get a little bit sweaty. “Okay— but just tell me, please.”

He checked overhearing their conversation one last time, and that the kids were still at Adrian's room. “Max told me a couple of days ago that he has been thinking about… what he likes.”

He stopped playing with his hair for a second. But then, he continued.

It was his way of coping with the feeling of his stomach twisting inside of him. “What he likes?” Hugh nodded again. “Huh. And has he— does he has an idea or—”

“No, he doesn't,” Hugh answered. “He just knows that he doesn't like girls. Or that's what he told me.”

Simon raised his eyebrows and scoffed. “That sounds like a lot of things. Not liking girls.”

Hugh scoffed too. “That's what I told him. And that he can take all the time he needs to figure it out. Because he can—”

“Yes. Yes, of course, he can,” Simon assured, with determination. “Life is longer than we think it is.”

They stayed silent again. And Simon couldn’t help but feel relive inside his head the moment he called Max an ally, feeling his stomach twisting even more at every second it passed.

“I feel bad.”

“Why?”

His palms started to sweat again. “Because I called him an ally.”

“It’s all right. You didn’t know.”

“I shouldn’t have assumed anything.”

“You didn’t know,” Hugh repeated.

But Simon didn’t listen. “Si.”

Then, Hugh grabbed him carefully by the wrist, and, a little bit surprised, Simon tilted his head. Hugh usually didn't interrupt him when he was playing with his hair.

“What's wrong?” he asked.

“No, what’s wrong with you?” he deadpanned

Simon knew him well enough to know he wasn’t trying to be rude. It was just his way of asking things. Especially when he was genuinely worried and didn’t think about modulating his tone so it It fitted the situation better.

He sighed. Because he didn’t want to lie to him. “I assumed Max was straight.”

As soon as he said it, he realized how silly it had sounded phrased like that. But he also noticed his voice had broken and he had to put a hand on his mouth so he didn’t start crying.

And Hugh, instead of saying the encouraging phrase he expected him to say…

He smiled.

And for some reason, that made him want to cry even more. “Ew, why are you smiling?” he asked.

Hugh took his time to answer him. “Oh, it’s nothing. I think I'm just… happy.”

“Well, I’m not.”

Hugh smiled more. “I know, love, I know… It's just one of those things…” he tried to find the right words this time. “One of those things I didn't think we were going to go through together,” he kept saying. “Like… we're going to be together when Max finally discovers who he really is. Like we did with Adrian. And like other people did with us. And that makes me happy.”

Simon wanted to tell him to shut up and let him cry and be dramatic as much as he wanted because he considered he deserved it. But he tried to do it, the only thing that could come out of his lips was almost imperceptible “Yeah…” and then, a small tear started running down his face. Hugh quickly noticed this and wiped it away with his finger. Simon scoffed and looked away, rubbing his nose.

“Hey…” and he moved aside so Simon could lay beside him.

The space they had was a little too small but he didn’t mind because now he had an excuse to be closer to him.

And there it was again. Little Simon. Little Simon was there again with them.

Just that this time he wasn’t crying, or screaming, or even flickering. He was just… existing.

And all he wanted to do was to exist.

When Hugh held him that way, sometimes he felt as if it was the first time he did it. Which made Simon (and the sad, angry and scared part of Simon) wonder if there was a sad, angry and scared part of Hugh that also craved that comfort and validation, and if it was the one who hugged that younger version of Simon until they convinced each other that everything was fine.

That there was nothing wrong with neither of them.

Because sometimes it was as if people didn’t remind them that as many times as they needed. So the only option they had was to be there for the other, and tell him that it was okay to hug, to kiss, to touch, and to share until the one who was talking ended up convincing both of them.

Love wasn’t temporary.

And their love was as powerful as they wanted it to be.

Those younger versions of themselves wanted to stay like that forever every single time. But their adult versions knew they couldn’t do it because they had other responsibilities that they needed to attend.

Installing those two pride flags that were next to them, for example.

Their younger versions were excited to do that, but they also asked them if they could rest together a little bit longer. And neither of them had the heart to tell them no.

Hugh started to play with a lock of Simon’s hair. “We’ll be there to catch him.”

He knew he wasn’t talking about either of them. Even if, with his eyes closed, he could see little Hugh and little Simon holding each other’s hands and throwing themselves into the world, a little less sad, and angry, and scared than before, without being sure if there was going to be someone down there to catch them if everything went wrong.

“Together.”

And Simon agreed. “Together.”

***

“He’s going to fall.”

Simon rolled his eyes.

“No, he’s not,” Hugh told Max. “I’m here.”

“But what if—”

“Done,” Simon announced before Max could even finish his sentence. “Now, let’s just hope these things stay there as long as possible, because this ladder makes me anxious. I was trembling while putting the first flag.”

Max clicked his tongue. “It’s a windy day. The wind could have pushed the ladder or something.”

Now it was Hugh’s turn to roll his eyes. “Take my hand.”

Simon went down the ladder without letting go of his hand. Then, while Hugh took it and quickly went inside the garage to put it there, Adrian pricked his little brother up with his own rainbow flag pin, and in response, Max punched him in the stomach with all his might (which wasn’t that much). Adrian laughed and pretended to be hurt, but immediately asked him if he wanted him to help him with his pin.

Simon noticed that Adrian had already put his pin of the bisexual flag on his clothes, and watching him pull Max a little bit closer so he didn’t prink him again (now by accident), while Max gazed at his hands, trying to memorize his movements so he could do the same thing when he wanted to wear that pin again, made his mouth curved into a smile.

When his husband came back from the garage, he thought he was going to tell them to stop blocking the sidewalk and get in the house so they could continue with their day. But instead of doing that, he walked towards them and looked at their waving flags, flying on their mansion for the first time in years.

Adrian grabbed Max by the waist and carried him on his shoulders so he could have a better view. And he realized that there would be a day when they would throw themselves into the world completely alone, without knowing how people were going to act and aware that two of them were brave enough to take whatever blows that they were going to throw at them.

But they weren’t going to do it alone. Because Hugh, Simon, and their hurting parts weren’t going to spend a day without reminding them that they were going to be there, ready to catch them every single time they needed it.

Simon started to look for Hugh’s hand just to realize, Hugh was already looking for his too, and when they found each other, he couldn’t contain himself and stood on his tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. Then, Hugh smiled and kissed him back, this time, on the corner of his lip.

Simon felt proud of what they were.

He was really proud.

And he hoped they were proud too.

#renegades #archenemies #supernova #renegades trilogy #hugh everhart #simon westwood #adrian everhart #max everhart #everhart-westwood family #the warden and the captain are sitting in a tree #obsi's writs #i should get an oscar for the homophobic storm joke

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katesthoughtsonthis · 3 years

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FROM BLOOD AND ASH - JENNIFER L. ARMENTROUT

Like I and many other people, I found this book thru TikTok. I was skeptical at first because I hadn’t read a proper book since before starting college circa 2013. I decided to give it a try after finding it eight - ten - thousand times on my fyp. I went straight to my nearest barnes and noble and for the life of me couldn’t find it. Now mind you this was March 2021. At this point, the whole of the world had found out about this book. I got lucky though, I found one… in a B&N about 30 minutes away from my house. you bet your ass I hauled my tuckus there. As soon as I got it in my hands, let’s just say it was a bit of a downward spiral from then on. Anyways, enough of my rambling. Let’s get to the good parts. I will make this as spoiler free as I can as possible.

The PLOT

Goodness gracious did it pack a punch straight away. Good lord the brothel scene. I was assaulted right away with my senses. The strong need to be touched by this mysterious man. Just when it was about to get to the good part it was ripped away. Then the real world building begins. So, initially starting this book, I actually didn’t know that this was going to be a six part book. I thought to myself, here we go with the world building. Now I like world building; but when it becomes long and winded, you lose me. I like that it gave me a good position about what the MC role was in life. What I appreciated was that we didn’t necessarily get ML back into the picture until a few chapters in. He was introduced much later in the chapters. Not so much so that you forgot him. Then the challenge of the minds. What New Adult book would not have a ML challenge the views of MC? Additionally, what New Adult book would not have the palpable sexual tension between the two characters. I loved every minute of it. Then the scene where MC’s true character was brought out was heartbreaking. I felt myself shed a few tears. The escape and the twists was breathtaking. I loved loved loved the slow realization of MC about ML. The twist bro the twist.

The Characters

Poppy (Penelaphe) Balfour

Can I just say that with NA genre books, I am appreciative of the fact that the main girls are not always skinny white girls with facial expressions like a gnat? I’m tired of it. She thicc like a honeydew; if god was a woman *wink wink*. Anyways, I like the fleshing out of her character. I’m just surprised she’s not more traumatized by the abuse she suffered at the hands of her captors. As someone who works closely with mental health disorders, I’m surprised that there wasn’t a scene where an object or word or action was a trigger for her. It was more stereotypical that she “got past it” and was stronger. Like no sweetheart, someone as abused as you should have it least some sort of response from the abuse. Maybe it was her need to stab every one around her? I like the description of her features. It’s interesting to me. To me, she could have been a little bit more scarred to bring more reality to it rather than it being an accessory that still looked pretty on her. Ok now I hear myself. It seems I’m just attacking at every hole I see. I like Poppy. I wish I was Poppy. Mostly because I want Hawke, but also for the red hair and the powers. Mostly for Hawke let’s be honest.

Also kudos to the artists that made these fanarts. This rendition of Poppy is amazing. Majority of the fanarts I’ve seen the Veil is too sheer. It was meant to fully cover her because the captors did not want a reminder of what she really was. Granted the mouth and nose should be covered too. But them thigh tho. They are thicc.

Art by Loweana

Hawke Flynn

LORD HELP ME. THIS MAN IF FIIIIIOOONE. UH GOD - can I have one too. hahaha. This has got to be the best fanart for what Hawke looks like. The FUCKING DIMPLE. I like that a lot of women who read NA genre are like yep these men need dimples and the authors agreeeeeed. Anyways, I like the cunningness of his character - and his cunnilingus. hahahahahahahaha. Ok, I have to reign myself in now. So Hawke is the MAN. That ain’t no boy. That is a MAN. I like that he doesn’t shy away from his attraction to Poppy nor is he unwilling to not challenge her beliefs on the status quo.

Art by Jeleynai

Conclusion

I bought the rest of the series at that time. which was just its sequel Kingdom of Flesh and Fire. I will do a post of this one down the line. As well as the sequel to that one; The Crown of Gilded Bones. I am fully committed to this series. I bought the FairyLoot version of the series as well as the Illumicrate. I got the Illumicrate one just last week and it is GORGEOUS, but because I am an incredibly (begrudgingly) nice person. I gave the Illumicrate one to my Aunt/Best Friend (she’s only a couple years older than me, I was an oopsie baby). I kept the rest of the stuff though. The blanket came in handy for a road trip I took with family and boyfriend the next couple of days later. I’m still waiting on the FairyLoot which I hear is coming soon. Oh, also I can’t wait for the next book coming out in Feb 2022 and its companion book in Oct 2021!

This definitely gave me a book hangover though. Could not recover for WEEKS.

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ms-demeanor · 5 years

Note

people will just be pissed if you tell them they're more capable than they thought

I get it.

They’re tired, they’re feeling worn down and uncreative.

“Just practice” has a lot of the same vibes as “if I can do it anyone can” when a celebrity is talking about weight loss or publishing a book or something.

Of course you can do it, Becky, you had a chef and a trainer and access to all the best gyms in the world! Of course you can do it, Gary, you starred in a Disney movie and went to Yale, it’s not like publishing your book is a risk.

“Anyone can be a better artist if they practice” is a true statement but it feels accusatory, it feels blamey. It feels like someone is saying “you could be a better artist if you just wanted to but you can’t get your shit together even to do this basic thing so you must not want it.”

If art or music or dancing ability is based on an innate talent instead of a learned skill then it’s not your fault that you’re not as good as you want to be. You can’t be blamed for not being better because you can’t help it - you just don’t have the talent.

The thing is, you also can’t be blamed for not having the time or attention or energy to practice. It’s a shitty world and hard work doesn’t always pay off and telling someone who’s working six days a week that they’ll be better at that thing they love if they just work harder is disheartening.

But I think there’s also a strong bias for youth and immediacy in attitudes about artistic talents. People tend to think that artists get good young and that learning a new skill happens fast if you’re talented.

Here’s a little comic I drew in July of 2014:

I was 27 years old when I drew that. I’d graduated from college and I’d broken my spine and I’d gotten married and I’d worked as a barista all the way through school until I got a job at a computer company and I’d been confident that I was a good artist for years by that point. I’d been doing art at least since I was 14, so this was 13 years of unevenly applied practice.

This is a piece of fanart I drew last November. I was 32. I’m still working at the computer company and my commute is 3 hours a day and I have a couple of side gigs and I got a dog and a bunch of family died and my mental health sort of nosedived and my life is kind of a mess. So that’s the difference in five years of unevenly applied practice.

And the thing is, I still make a lot of art that’s “meh” at best!

This is from June. Way lower quality than the Symbrock porn.

It takes FOREVER to get good at something. Literally, it’ll take all the time you have left in the world to be the best you’ll ever be at a skill you practice.

And sometimes it’s frustrating to see people with time to practice and see them being young and skilled and successful. It’s frustrating to want that for yourself and not be able to have it and to be told to “just practice.”

Here’s a video that drives me up the wall:

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I’m so jealous of this woman’s skills. I’d love to play guitar like that. I’m getting better a tiny bit at a time; I’ve been playing for three years now and I can manage to mostly strum in time to a couple of songs. I practice guitar for five or ten minutes at a time once or twice a week. Sometimes I don’t practice for months at a time because life gets in the way.

Rachelf practices guitar for two to three hours a day.

I know to a lot of people my 2014-2018 art improvements look like the kind of skills change that you see in that video but I promise it’s not. It’s tiny. It’s incremental. It’s forgetting to draw for months at a time and starting “100 days of ref” challenges and quitting after a week and trying to do a drawing a day for a year and failing an early January and not completing an inktober for three years running.

It’s never going to be easy, you’re never going to have all the time you want and if you have the time you might not have the motivation and if you have the time and the motivation you might not be able to afford the tools or media you want to use. It’s hard. It’s always hard.

But here’s the thing: playing guitar for twenty minutes every two months is better practice than not playing guitar at all. Drawing something bad and messy and inexpert with cheap tools is better than not drawing anything at all.

If you want to draw you’ll get there. Eventually you’ll be able to draw if you keep trying to. But you have to keep trying for a really long time before you’re any good at it so you might as well start now.

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masquerade-reimagined · 4 years

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Resolutions

I’m not one to make proper resolutions for the new year. For me, I always set myself up for failure if I say anything like “I’m going to do this thing I don’t already do and I’m going to do it ALL THE TIME” or “I’m going to stop enjoying this aspect of my life as often as I do because it’s bad for me.” I’ll almost immediately not do what I said I would do and then the whole concept of resolution has been destroyed.

So this year, I’m going to try something different. Smaller, more attainable goals that aren’t a make-or-break kind of thing. I have three in mind for this blog/my participation in the Choices (or other non-Choices) fandom:

Read and re-blog more fanfiction. I want to be more supportive of the creative community and that includes supporting other people who write fanfic. If there are days when I end up reblogging a bunch of fics, it’s because I’m catching up with what I’ve been tagged in. (Please tag me in more things.)

Write more consistently. I’d like to revert back to a previous version of myself and be someone who can pop-out a quick little story here, or a regular update to a series there. This probably won’t happen to my TRM series any time soon because it’s massive and I’m writing it as though it were an actual novel, but maybe I can branch into other stories (ones that may or may not be Choices). This might mean that I challenge myself a bit and end up posting some absolute garbage things from time to time. Consider yourself warned.

Commission more artwork. I’m talking 1 or 2 pieces a month. I just got another AMAZING piece that I actually bought in December and I’ll be queueing that to post in a couple of hours (guys, it’s so pretty). Much like the fanfic thing up at #1, I intend to reblog more fanart this year. But I also want to be involved in its creation, and since I can neither draw nor find the patience to learn how to draw, I want to pay other people to draw it for me. So keep signal boosting those commission posts!

Yeah, that’s basically it. I’d share a bit of a Sunday Six or whatever but I can’t because what I’ve been working on this week is a fic for my first purchased commission of the year. Assuming the artist draws inspiration from it, I’m not going to post it until I post the commission! Maybe next week I’ll have something. There are a couple of LIs that are making an appearance soon and I know some people have been waiting for them...

#i'm rambling #this isn't important i just wanted to say it #long-ish post

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adrianhorihoro · 4 years

Photo

I haven’t been posting much art on tumblr lately because I’ve been focusing on IG. I posted 5 different entries of the six fan arts challenge there that I’ll post here as well eventually. But I decided to make a sixth entry for it, this very one that I’m posting now.

Here you have Ariel, Hermione, Queen Elsa, Daenerys, Howl Jenkins Pendragon, and Usagi Tsukino aka Sailor Moon. + Katniss.

YES they are all black and the fact that someone gets upset by this FICTIONAL characters being portrayed as black people is exactly why I made them like this. And the fact that someone gets upset by this when REAL black people is being murdered on the streets for the simple reason of being black is why BLACK LIVES MATTER.

A lot of white people have the discourse that they don’t like when they change the race of an already existent fictional character, that why don’t they make new original characters instead, yet they happily accept when POC characters are changed on movies and portrayed white. but let’s be honest, it is just racism and a racist discourse. I agree on the second part that we MUST have way way more original main POC characters but I completely disagree with the first part. I think that we as creatives and creators of content have the absolute freedom to redesign characters however we want (specially fictional characters!!!). We have that power! People accepts willingly redesigns that make characters look ABSOLUTELY different as long as they are still white, but are ALWAYS ready to complain if they are portrayed black. Also the other commonly used discourse of accuracy is ridiculous too. Specially on fiction. People is eager to believe in dragons, trolls, and magic or aliens but no in black and other POC having leading rolls on fantasy. Because a girl building a magic ice castle out of thin air is believable AS LONG AS SHE IS WHITE. If she is black it somehow doesn’t make sense. *cough* racism *cough*

By saying this I am the first one that has to check on my own privilege as a white spanish european person, because most of my art depicts white people. That’s no one’s fault but mine. So I acknowledge myself on that. It is NOT something I have to try to change. It WON’T happen again. Because when I decided that I wanted to live my life making art, I wanted to inspire and make people feel welcome with it and I now can see that I’ve been failing in part due to my internalised racism. And again I think that as creator of content I have the power to educate people with my art.

So DRAW, BE CREATIVE, BE DIVERSE, BE INCLUSIVE! BECAUSE REPRESENTATION MATTERS.

BECAUSE BLACK LIVES MATTER. BLACK TRANS LIVES MATTER.

AND NO LIFE MATTERS UNTIL BLACK LIVES FUCKING MATTER.

And please educate yourself! Because it is not the job of black people to make you stop being racist, as it is not the job of women to make you stop being misogynist or the job of LGTBQI+ people to make you stop being an homophobe. It is YOUR responsibility. The resources to do it are out there, if you don’t do it it is because you don’t want to.

LISTEN to the voices of the people systematically being abused and oppressed! and don’t undermine and devalue their words with your “But...” arguments. Listen and acknowledge what they have to say because it is their reality, their truth, and no one knows better what that reality is but the people living it!

P.S. I love film version of Howl but honey I’m all in for this redesign I made of him! He is my cannon now! Future Husbando! <3 And yes, representation matters. And right now AND always black lives fucking matter!!

P.S.2 Katniss is a bonus. I drew her on one of the previous five six fanarts compilations I made, but I received some “why did you drew her black” comments. And, though she is described as an olive skin person with grey eyes in the book, the response is BECAUSE I FUCKING WANTED TO. <3

P.S.3 https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/ go and help however you can <3

I hope you like my art and reblog BUT PLEASE DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION AND CREDIT <3

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ashintheairlikesnow · 5 years

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Colton/Kauri Fanfiction #1

@shameless-whumper and I ended up basically accidentally creating a challenge in which I promised to reward anyone who drew a specific, amazing fanart idea I was sent in an ask with a fake fanfiction drabble that featured the Colton/Kauri pairing.

You guys took me up on it.

Holy shit did you ever.

I am currently sitting at I believe four fanfic drabbles owed with at least one more soon to be claimed, I think.

I’ve finished the first, and it’s below the cut. I give you... @haro-whumps‘s request for “Colton touches Kauri’s hair”:

Tagging: @maybeawhumpblog, @pepperonyscience, @haro-whumps, @18-toe-beans, @burtlederp, @finder-of-rings, @giggly-evil-puppy, @lump-of-whump, @whimpers-and-whumpers

(Colton is of course @shameless-whumper‘s and this drabble comes with express permission and no small amount of glee)

The fog was deep and my voice was inside and it told me a secret by NotAHowenShipper Youtube Videos - The Host

No Archive Warnings Apply, Colton/Kauri, On the Run, Forbidden Love, All They Do Is Kiss (This Time), I wrote this instead of sleeping, should I write another one where they do more, maybe if I get enough comments lol, omg can you even imagine the Host’s face, Owen Grant is a dick, wouldn’t it be so funny if Vincent Shield saw this

Kauri and Colton are on the run after leaving the Host and Owen Grant. They’re alone in the city with no one to turn to but each other. A cold night in a dark alley changes everything.

I love comments and kudos, you guys!!! Let me know if I should write a chapter two or something that gets a little ~spicier~, if you get my drift! LOL these two were so cute in the Better Box Boy video, I hope we see them again. They are TOTALLY made for each other, right????

This was written after like six Redbulls and at 3 AM so don’t judge!!!

The alley is already dark, the shadows of the buildings on either side closing in over their heads. The footsteps pound past, a flash of darker shadow in the yellow late-afternoon winter sunlight.

Colton’s black hoodie blends in, the hood pulled up to hide as much of his face as possible, and he presses Kauri against the crumbling brick wall behind him to hide the younger man, in his thin white T-shirt, from the handlers pursuing them. He has a hand against the wall on either side of Kauri, boxing him in, his mouth very nearly pressed against Kauri’s ear. “Just be quiet and they won’t see us,” He murmurs, and thinks that Kauri’s ear feels cold where his lips just barely brush along the shell.

Kauri was already shivering long before they made it into the alley, but here out of the weak sunlight the temperature drops even more, and he can hear Kauri’s soft breathing starting to get shallow and panicked.

Or maybe he’s breathing faster because of something else.

“It’s okay,” Colton says softly, low voice pitched deep enough not to carry. Black curls gently graze against his forehead, his cheek, and Kauri is biting his lower lip, his eyes staring to the side, towards the entrance of the alley. “It’s gonna be okay, Kauri, I promise, just wait until they’re gone.”

He can still hear them shouting to each other, trying to find them, and while Kauri nods, Colton chances a direct look and finds his blue eyes are wide, white-rimmed, and frightened.

He can’t stand it; hates the way Kauri looks so scared, even days after running out of the Host’s house. They could be picked up any second, the moment a sleeve rides up enough to show the barcodes and numbers tattooed into their wrists, the second their jittery nervousness is read for what it is by strangers on the street.

Pets on the run, to be rounded up and returned to Owen Grant and the Host - probably sent back to the Facility to be refurbished and sold off like virus-riddled computers. He doesn’t even know why he decided to run when he did. Owen and the Host had been in another room, and he’d just grabbed Kauri’s arm and said, come with me.

The real question was why Kauri had so quickly gone with him.

No argument, no fight. Kauri had only whispered, yes, flashed him a slight, shy smile, and run right after him out the door. The Host and Owen hadn’t even noticed until they were most of the way down the block, and he’d heard them shouting as a distant sound that seemed barely human.

But barely human is what they are, and the only way to stay together now is to never stop moving. They’re hungry - Colton’s been panhandling, making enough to get by but not really enough to live on, even as homeless ex-pet runaways. Kauri’s too distinctive, his looks are too much like Vincent Shield, and so he mostly stays back in shadows while Colton, who looks like no one in particular or at least no one famous, does his best to keep them fed.

They’re hungry, and hunted, and running out of time to figure out another plan. He doesn’t even really know where he is, or why he ran, or what he expects to happen next. The weirdest part is that it doesn’t even matter.

All that matters is who came with him.

Kauri shivers again, and he’s close enough to feel it. Colton lifts a hand to his face, and Kauri’s breathing calms, a little, at the touch. Colton swallows against the urge to keep this up, to never stop doing whatever it took to make Kauri feel just a little safer.

“Hey, are you shaking ‘cause you’re scared, or is this just because of the cold?” His heart is pounding but it feels like it’s less from fear than it was before, now some other feeling creeping its way in.

It’s something he doesn’t want to think about, or to talk about, but it’s still been between them from the moment he’d seen Kauri from behind the camera.

“Can-... do I get to say both?” Kauri whispers, and the two of them laugh, airy and breathless and barely sounds at all. “They almost got us that time, Colton.”

“It doesn’t matter. We got away again. We’ll always get away, I promise, I’ll make sure you always get away.”

Kauri turns his head a little, and they’re barely an inch apart, now. “I don’t want me to always get away, Colton,” Kauri says, and there’s a hitch to his voice. “I want both of us to always get away... together.”

The air is warmer between them than the cold around them, and this time when he feels Kauri shiver, Colton pushes closer to him instead of pulling back. He unzips his sweatshirt - they’d dropped the branded Host’s merchandise as fast as they could, taking a sweatshirt right off the hanger at a convenience store and putting the Host’s sweater in its place - and slides it off his shoulders.

Colton wonders why it is that this is the person he wanted so badly to protect that he’d lose everything - and risk even more - just to end up here. Some sweet guy he’d only barely met, barely spoken to… but here they were.

Together, half-starved and freezing in a dirty alley, and Colton is taking off the only warm clothing he has to slide it over the shoulders of the younger man looking up at him with wide, blue eyes, his face slightly scrunched up with confusion.

“Colton, no,” Kauri says softly, but he pulls the sweatshirt tighter around himself, and Colton swallows against an unfamiliar feeling (but no, it’s not unfamiliar at all) of wanting to see Kauri wearing his clothes - all of them, not just his sweatshirt - one day. “You’ll get cold.”

“You’re already cold,” Colton says softly, and his smile is slight and maybe a little sharp, but softer than it ever was for the Host. And Kauri’s returning smile had none of the nervous fear of every time Colton had seen him look towards Owen Grant when Colton had stood behind the camera.

“I don’t want us to trade off being cold,” Kauri says, and his hands are a little shaky when he reaches out, twisting fingers into the fabric of the thick long-sleeved shirt Colton was wearing under the hoodie. When he pulls Colton forward, he moves easily enough, until they’re touching and Colton can feel Kauri’s heart beating as hard and fast as his own. Kauri shifts, pulling the sides of the hoodie around so they wrapped around behind Colton, too, and Kauri’s shiver was still there but it had changed, too. “We could be warm together, instead.”

Colton’s forehead drops forward, to rest against Kauri’s, breathing a little harder. “We don’t even know who we are,” He whispers, and there’s real pain in that confession. He doesn’t know why he’d signed up for the pet program, what he’d done in his past that was so bad he had given up everything.

But he’s found something else in the process.

“I could be a murderer. I could be something terrible, and you don’t even know.” Even as he speaks the words, Colton’s hands move up to cup Kauri’s face, the cold cheeks against his warm palms. He moved his fingers up into Kauri’s hair, into wild black curls that had gone tangled with days on the run, a little dirty, but still they feel impossibly soft to him.

Kauri melts into the touch, leaning his head back slightly, and he’s so close. He’s so, so close.

“I could be a murderer, too,” Kauri whispers, and Colton can’t stop the huff of laughter. Kauri’s eyes flash with defensiveness and the scrunch of confusion shifts to an attempt at an angry frown, but his hands stay wrapped in Colton’s shirt, and Colton doesn’t pull his hands back from his hair. “I could be a murderer!”

“No offense,” Colton says softly, “But killing someone is genuinely the second-most impossible thing I’ve ever tried to imagine you doing.”

“What’s the most impossible thing?” Kauri asks, and Colton keeps one hand in his hair, sliding around behind his head, while the other moves to take him by the chin, lifting his head just a little bit.

The wide blue eyes are on his, now, and they’re not frightened anymore.

“The most impossible thing I can imagine you doing is this,” Colton whispers, and leans down to kiss him.

#fake fanfiction is surprisingly fun to write #Colton/Kauri #Kauri/Colton #God help me #Cori shippers #shameless-whumper #box boy #somewhere Kauri would really like someone to read it to him like six times #and somewhere else Colton would probably like to punch me in the face

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lady-divine-writes · 5 years

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Kama Sutra for the Married Man

Summary: Aziraphale thinks that he should take his and Crowley’s relationship to another level.

From the book his angel is reading, Crowley isn’t sure exactly what level that is.

Neither does Aziraphale. (1744 words)

Notes: Inspired in part by this wonderful piece of fanart by @millerizo. Rated PG13. Fluff and a lot of second hand embarrassment.

(AO3)

“Whotcha got there, angel?”

“Crowley! Oh!” Aziraphale twists in his seat, jumping nearly six feet straight in the air when his husband walks through the door. “I didn’t hear you come in!”

“Obviously. Is that a new book?” Crowley grabs it out of Aziraphale’s hands before the angel can think to hide it. “Must be good. You look like I caught you with your hand in the cookie jar.”

“What!? What are you talking about? That? Th-that’s nothing! It’s just a boring old book. Just got it in. Taking a browse before I put it on the shelf.” He tries to swipe it back, but his husband is too quick, perching on the back of the sofa across the way and opening it, picking up where Aziraphale left off.

“Whoa!” Crowley barks a laugh at the first picture he sees. “Well that was a little white lie, wasn’t it, angel?” He leans in close, squinting at the diagrams crowding the page, then flips to the cover to check the title for more context. “Kama Sutra for the Married Man?” He chuckles once, high pitched and giddy, and on Aziraphale’s small cushion, the world skids on its axis and stops cold. “Now where do you expect this fits in with all the children’s books Adam stocked in this place?”

“Well, I …”

“Wait, wait, wait! Don’t tell me!” Crowley interrupts, choking on his own joke. “Between The Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew, right?”

Aziraphale pinches his knees together, praying that, at some point, he’ll dissolve into the ground beneath his feet. “A-actually …”

“Seriously, though - why in the world are you reading this?”

Crowley stares at Aziraphale, waiting for an answer.

Aziraphale stares at the floor, hoping to spontaneously discorporate.

He sighs, shifts in his seat and rolls his eyes. It’s just a book, he tells himself. A book full of explicit and vulgar pictures. Crowley is his husband. It shouldn’t be hard to talk about this. He clears his throat, attempting to shoo a metric ton of discomfort and embarrassment from his brain.

“Because we’re married now, Crowley. Married people …” Aziraphale continues, but using only vague hand gestures to express his meaning. The half-smirk growing on Crowley’s face as he watches him suffer through this explanation spears him to the bone. “Isn’t that something you want to … do?”

“I’ve never asked for this, have I?” Crowley spins the book 180 degrees, trying to make sense of the next picture on the page.

“No, but I thought it was because you were being …”

Crowley’s head snaps up, his slotted, reptilian eyes fixed on his husband’s face. “Don’t say it!”

“… nice.”

Crowley groans, flailing dramatically, nearly falling head over heels backwards. “I told you not to say it!”

“Or you don’t want me,” Aziraphale murmurs under his breath. It’s soft, downright imperceptible, but Crowley hears, and it makes him take notice. He takes a good long look at his husband for the first time tonight. Aziraphale has already showered, his hair combed down neatly and he’s dressed for bed, but in his best dressing gown. A sublte sniff tells Crowley he’s splashed on his best cologne.

Those clues and this book?

Crowley slowly begins to understand.

Whatever this is about (and Crowley has a good idea …) it’s not spontaneous. He’s been planning this.

But they haven’t spoken about it. Aziraphale came up with this on his own, based off an assumption.

And now he’s making another one.

Crowley shakes his head, amused grin on his face trying its hardest to be sympathetic, but he can’t help himself. Aziraphale is the most clever being he’s ever known. Why is it then he can also be so incredibly dense?

“Does anything you’ve seen in this book make you comfortable, angel?”

Aziraphale recalls the few diagrams he’d seen before Crowley snatched the book away. They make him shudder, and not in a good way. He knows about physical affection, intimacy, and sex, but the stuff in that book looked medieval … and that coming from someone who lived during the Spanish Inquisition. Frankly, the thought of it all – the sweet and the severe - makes Aziraphale anxious, sweating like a condemned man minutes from a beheading (yet another situation he has first-hand knowledge of) and angels don’t even sweat! But Crowley’s a demon. They’re more like humans in that regard, Aziraphale finds. Demon needs are different than that of angels, right?

Aziraphale doesn’t know for certain. He couldn’t find the time – or the courage – to ask.

He pulls himself up straight and squares his shoulders, hands gripping his knees till his knuckles turn white, but he can’t look his husband in the eyes. “No, but …” He swallows hard enough to make his throat and chest ache “… I’d be willing to do it … for you? If that’s what you wanted?”

Crowley nods at the response of his adorable but oblivious husband. “A-ha. Well, let me have a look-see, alright?” He flips through the pages of the book, not really focusing on the pictures, more stalling to give himself time to think. They’ve only talked about sex once that he can remember. It wasn’t even in the context of their relationship (since, at the time, they hadn’t owned up to having one) but Aziraphale turned into a stuttering mess. Crowley would be willing to revisit that discussion if Aziraphale wishes. But there’s a tremendous difference between making love and the carnal gymnastics outlined in this book. Why Aziraphale thought this was the direction Crowley would want to go is beyond him. “There’s a pretty picture, if I do say so!” he growls, delighting in the shade of ruby red his angel becomes. “Though I think there’s about four people wrapped up in that ball of coital agony. I’m having a little trouble pinpointing all the limbs … And this one? No. I’d have to be in serpent form to pull that one off. And this …” He throws his head back and honestly laughs out loud “… well, we could get into this one, but we’d have to miracle our way out, and I can just imagine the angry letters you’d get over that!” Crowley flips through more pages, muttering commentary for the sake of torturing his husband, who’s become as petrified as an ancient tree stump. In the dead middle of the book, Crowley finally comes up with a plan. He bites his lower lip, suppressing a smile. “Ah, I think this one’s more our speed.” He climbs down from the back of the couch to settle on the cushions where he can look his angel in the eye. “Number 117.”

“A-and, pray tell, wh-what is that?” Aziraphale asks, trying to peek over the top of the book to see. But like any good poker player, Crowley keeps it close to his chest, out of his angel’s view.

“It’s where I carry you to bed,” Crowley says smoothly, “tuck you under the covers, and bring you a tray of tea and biscuits. We read a book, you fall asleep in my arms, and we call it a day.”

Aziraphale’s eyebrows snap together so quickly, Crowley swears they make a sound. “Is that really in there?”

Crowley closes the book, index finger wedged between the pages to save the spot, challenging his angel to call his bluff. “If you’re determined to go through with this, we’ll do what’s underneath my finger. Do you honestly want to check and risk proving me wrong?”

Aziraphale’s eyes fall on the book and stay there. No, he doesn’t. He doesn’t want to prove Crowley wrong. He knows Crowley is lying. Demons lie – that’s what they do. Even the better ones. But not all lies are necessarily bad. Some lies spare people from hurt feelings, keep them from doing things they’re not prepared to do. But now, he feels more than a bit foolish. He hadn’t exactly been gung ho about the plan he’d come up with for tonight, but this is a bit of a letdown.

But that has to do with his own self-doubt and feelings of inadequacy.

In the six thousand years they’ve known one another, Crowley has never done a single thing, said a single word to make Aziraphale feel inadequate. There’ve been the odd jokes, of course, the way friends will, but none of them ever hit at the heart of Aziraphale. He pictured that same energy carrying them through this small change in their relationship.

But as it turned out, that change wasn’t so small. Transitioning from friends to husbands flipped a handful of otherwise dormant switches in Aziraphale’s mind, made him start to question whether or not who he was was enough.

Crowley is just so much, and Aziraphale?

He’s so soft.

Crowley obviously fell in love with the angel he is, and has never asked him to change, but Aziraphale began to think that his demon needed something more.

At the time, he felt his logic was sound.

He should have realized that love is all that matters, and his husband loves him enough to give him an out.

Shouldn’t he take it?

“Number 117 it is!” he says, patting his poor strangled knees. “I’ll start the kettle!”

“And I’ll get the biscuits.” Crowley tosses the book aside, miracling it with a snap of his fingers into a signed first edition of The Adventures of Beekle – The Unimaginary Friend, which he feels better fits both his angel and his shop.

Both stand, meeting in the middle on their way to the kitchen. Aziraphale stops Crowley with a hand to his bicep, looks into his husband’s eyes, and smiles. “Thank you, Crowley.”

He starts on his way but Crowley winds an arm around his waist and holds him still against him.

“Make no mistake, angel,” he whispers, lips dancing kissing-distance from his ear. “I want you, but my reasons have nothing to do with sex. Nothing at all. If it’s not important to you, it’s not important to me. Understand?”

Aziraphale blushes for the nineteenth time during this conversation, but in a softer, less scandalized shade of pink. With the touch of Crowley’s arm doing weird things to his head, Aziraphale utters the only two words that pop to mind.

Incidentally, they’re the only two words he could come up with at their wedding, when Crowley’s fond eyes on Aziraphale’s face affected him this same exact way.

“I do.”

#Good Omens #Good Omens Fanfic #ineffable husbands #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #Frankie writes

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elisajdb · 4 years

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Fanfic Authors Tag Game

Tagged by @meztliel

AO3 name: ElisaJ

Fandoms: Dragon Ball. Sailor Moon. Inuyasha. Though Dragonball is the only one I’ve written for.

Number of fics: 20

1. Fic I spent the most time on: Life With You. Working on finishing Part 30. I know. It’s been forever.

2. Fic I spent the least time on: A Yakuza Dragon ball story.

3. Longest fic: Life With You.

4. Shortest fic: The Visitor. Short story I wrote based on fanart of Bardock visiting Goku’s family briefly. He hugs Goku, greets Gohan and Goten and compliments ChiChi. He’s only on Earth long enough to see Goku turned out fine.

5. Most hits: Life With You

6. Most kudos: Life With You

7. Most comment threads: Life With You

8. Favourite fic I wrote: Changes which was part of Son Family Week in 2018. Sweet short story of Goten adjusting to life with his Dad again and learns how he and his Dad have a lot more in common than Goten realizes.

9. Fic you want to rewrite/expand on: Probably the Saiyan ChiChi/Evil Goku story I just wrote for GoChi week. It would fun to expand on how Goku and ChiChi met, how Gyumao left Planet Vegeta and continue on with how the one shot end.

10. Share a bit of a WIP or a story idea you’re planning on: An excerpt from Life With You: Part 30:

“What?” ChiChi wasn’t sure she heard right. “You mean that’s why you sent Gohan away? You wanna spend time with me?”

Goku felt warmth spread on his cheeks. He rather show it than say it but if this was the only way to calm ChiChi and get her to accept his decision…. “I spent nearly a year with Gohan in that room. It was great. I spent time with Gohan when I came back from Yardrat but Piccolo was here and it wasn’t the same. It was great being with Gohan but when I was in that room, I thought about you and how we ain’t done anything in a long time.”

“Yeah,” ChiChi agreed dully. “I think it was before you died we really spent time alone. Dad would watch Gohan for a few days while we celebrated our anniversary. There were a few date nights we’ve had but since you died,” ChiChi shrugged, “nothing.” It bothered ChiChi she and Goku hadn’t spent time alone together like they used to. They satisfied their physical needs when the urge rose. Some nights they spent it talking but the way Goku carried on these last years, ChiChi didn’t think Goku felt the same. “I thought you were happier since you died. Before Raditz, you were getting bored. You were craving another fight and you got it fighting your brother, then Vegeta, Freeza, the Artificial Humans and now Cell.”

ChiChi wiped away a tear threatening to fall. “For three years, it was you, Gohan and Piccolo and our days were spent with you three talking about fighting, talking about how much stronger you’ve gotten. It was always about fighting. It was no longer about what Gohan learned from his books, about you earning money from Mr. Olitz’s farm, what you and Aki were doing, dinner with Dad, our family going on trips together or expanding our family. It was you, Gohan and Piccolo all day while I spent my days alone. Even my Dad hasn’t come around as much anymore because of my decision to stay with you and Piccolo living with us. We made up after you returned but it never meant I was completely happy with our arrangement but it seemed like you were and I was just a distraction so you didn’t get bored in the early years of our marriage.”

It was as if Raditz punched him in his stomach again and he lied on the beach powerless to move. ChiChi’s revelation of her inner pain these three years caught him off guard. When he returned from Yardrat, they talked a lot. It took a while but Goku thought things were good between them. When the training started, Goku did leave Gohan and Piccolo for an hour or two and spent it with ChiChi. Two years left him missing his wife intimately terribly but over time the visits became lesser to none at all. The intimacy continued but at night when everyone slept. He never asked what ChiChi did while he trained all day. ChiChi took care of the house and prepared food but Goku knew it didn’t take ChiChi all day to do that.

He assumed Gyu-Mao visited. Goku knew things were strained between himself and his father-in-law but Goku assumed Gyu-Mao visited while he trained with Gohan and Piccolo. He never suspected Gyu-Mao didn’t because he didn’t accept ChiChi’s decision to stay with him and allow Piccolo to live with them but he should’ve. Gohan’s his grandson and Gyu-Mao must’ve been shocked and angered, too, Piccolo was living with them after all he did to their family. They visited Gyu-Mao’s village for festivals, saw him on holidays and birthdays but mostly Goku and his family stayed on Mount Paouz. It wasn’t until their talk after Gohan’s party Goku felt the ice melt between him and Gyu-Mao. After their fight, Goku accepted things were different between them but Goku never realized ChiChi’s relationship with her father was in an almost similar place since his return.

With Gyu-Mao staying away and ChiChi being alone most of the day, other things became clearer to Goku. No wonder ChiChi insisted he and Gohan took one day a week off from training. No wonder she insisted Goku and Gohan eat breakfast, lunch and dinner with her. No wonder she insisted Goku get his license again and take her on shopping trips. She was lonely, estranged from her father and finding ways to cope while he never noticed. How could he? Goku asked himself. Everyday, ChiChi said goodbye and welcomed him and Gohan with a smile. Some days ChiChi got angry but most ChiChi quietly did her housework. He assumed things were fine and they weren’t. She buried her feelings like he did.

In their ten years of marriage, ChiChi became the only person to see Goku as himself. Unlike his friends, she knew when he was hiding things behind his smile. She knew when things really bothered him. Goku felt he failed as a husband not noticing these things in his wife.

“I’m sorry, ChiChi,” Goku apologized. “I’m sorry you thought those bad things because of me. It’s not true. I’m just selfish and I haven’t been a good husband to you. I didn’t notice things were bad between you and your Pops because of me. It’s my fault. It’s always my fault.” Once again, Goku thought of Bulma’s words of bad things following him wherever he went.

Maybe Bulma is right. If it wasn’t for me, Gohan wouldn’t have been kidnapped. He wouldn’t have been left alone for six months. ChiChi wouldn’t have been alone for a year. ChiChi and her Pops had a good relationship all her life and I ruined that. I’m always hurting the ones I care for the most.

“Your fault?” ChiChi questioned. She noticed the frown and pain in his eyes. Something was bothering him. “What are you talking about? What’s your fault?”

“ChiChi,” Goku enclosed his hands around hers. Gone was his smile. His face was hardened as if he was preparing for a grueling fight and his gaze was so tense ChiChi felt frozen in place. “After the Cell Games, it’ll be us and Gohan. Maybe another child.” ChiChi smiled at that. “I haven’t been a good husband to you. Let me try now. Let’s fix this before Gohan comes home.”

“You….. you wanna work on us and our issues?” Another tear fell from her eyes but ChiChi sounded hopeful. “We’ve had issues for years, Goku. Can we really fix them in five days?”

“You know me,” Goku smiled brightly at ChiChi. “I love a challenge and you know there’s no stopping me when I want something.” ChiChi’s laugh lifted his spirits. He knew he was being arrogant but he knew he was right. “We can do this, ChiChi, if we want to and I want to.”

I think the other remaining writers have been tagged I won’t add them. :)

#writer tag meme #writing #fanfiction

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appatary8523 · 4 years

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Some non important and random thoughts n stuff under the cut.

♦ I think it's easy to see why I liked that Dieter /Thomas ship if you compare it with Héctor and Ernesto. I think both pairings would have a very similar dynamic. In both cases one is younger, kind of naive and very talented (and both are madly in love with their wife). The other is older, egocentric, wants fame and money and is also talented but lacks of something, so they complement each other, artistically speaking. Of course, Dieter and Thomas are real humans, very different to their cartoon counterparts (I mean, i didnt even understand anything of the movie? I don’t speak German xD) and I'm taking a lot of liberties with this (Dieter composes and can sing a bit, Ernesto just sings but very well. Héctor can't sing and Thomas voice is precious. Also Héctor and Ernesto were friends until the tequila thing and I think the other two hate each other and never really got along very well?) but... Yeah, that. Keep it in the fiction side because pretending the real humans are in love is... kind of sick?

♦ I find kind of funny how my mom tries to convince me to drink alcohol when she tries the exact opposite with my brothers. I don't know why, even when I say I don't want to drink. She says my brothers 'are more prone to become alcoholic', but if this has some kind of genetic predisposition I'm sorry to tell her we have the same chances. The difference is, I'm pretty aware of the problems that alcohol can cause and I don't want to repeat the family patterns that I don't like (and tbh I know myself, imagine I get obsessed with alcohol in the same level I'm obsessed with Ernesto. I would be have died already of alcoholic intoxication or something related xD)

♦ Quarantine sucks for most of people because they can't go outside but I like it?? I rarely go out unless I need something (and the very few times I meet my friends). I have to work almost every day so my 'life' is almost the same as always. I find really comfortable how like half of my coworkers are working from home (people with children younger than 13 were given that permission), so the place is very quiet. If it weren't affecting so much people, I would wish this could last a little longer.

♦ I just remembered I wanted to make a plush, again. I bought most of the fabrics and threads away back and didn't do anything because ??? I'm not sure. I might start it soon, I don't know. I also want to finish the figure I was working on but I'm not sure if the store where I bought the paint is open. I don't want to buy the paint on the internet because I'm not sure if the tones will be the appropriated ones. Who knows! Meanwhile, I have to work in the pattern for the plush if I want to get it done. Oh, also wanted to make some face masks but I'm not sure if the fabric stores are open. I have to go to check someday. (I will end up doing nothing for sure)

♦I haven't been able to draw :( I just don't feel like is worth the effort. That b00bs inspector thing is the only thing that I have "finished" in quite some time (and I gotta admit I find it really funny despite how dumb it is) , and the Mod3rn Talk¡ng doodles have helped to make me draw again, even if it's just something small. I hope is just because my mind had to shift to sculptor mode to work on the figure (?) I had the intention to make that Six Fanart Challenge but meh. I also haven't been able to write, I thought maybe that could help but, oh surprise, it didn't. I had a scenario very clear but I suddenly forgot about it. I mean, is for the au made for me by me but I really wanted to see it plasmated in some form. I kinda remember reading something somewhere that the quarantine might have psychological impact in people even if they don't realize. Maybe that's also related.

♦ I've been watching Break¡ng b@d again! As I've told you before I can't stand long sessions of binge watch anything, so it will take me some time to finish the series. That's why you might have seen some posts about that show lately. And because B3tter Call $aul's last episode of the fifth season was recently aired.

(SPOILERS AHEAD) And I gotta admit I love T0ny D@lton's character, Lalo! Hope he doesn't dies, but on the other hand I do want someone to kill Nacho's dad. He's not guilty of anything, but Nacho is a traitor and we all know the narco doesn't forgives (I kinda feel he deserves it? Idk! I just feel he deserves some suffering and I don't think he'll have a good end). But don't get me wrong, I do like Nacho, I feel they're trying to make him kind of like a Jesse but not as tragic? Similar but different, i don't know how to explain it. I don't like him as much as Jesse but he's a good character.

Anyway, back to Lalo. I love when he speaks Spanish because he's a natural, his spanish is real unlike Don Eladio or Héctor(?)) When he finds all his people dead is just JFJSJS you can feel his rage! (I have to admit I felt very bad in that last scene when he sees Yolanda dead :'( ) That dude is crazy and he won't hesitate (and I guess know they think he's dead bfjsjsnbdjs) I'm really excited to know what will happen in the next season, but I think it will be the last one. Idk, let's see how all this this warps up!

♦ I bought some cream cheese! Nothing important, i just wanted some (?)

♦And I think that’s all? I’ll try to go and do something, or to get distracted somehow. There’s a lot of noise and my head hurts a lot and I don’t want to get angry to everyone for this reason (?)

#text post #long post #if it werent under a cut lol

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loquaciousquark · 6 years

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Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E42 (November 20, 2018)

Dani was actually goofing around quite a bit here, but this still makes me think of some glorious 90s band, so I’m keeping it.

Anyway! The inimitable @eponymous-rose has done more than her share of recaps lately, so here I am picking up where I’ve been slacking off. Tonight’s guests are Marisha Ray and Laura Bailey (with special guest appearance from Ronin! Awwww), so I can hardly wait. We’re discussing Episode 42: A Hole in the Plan.

Tonight’s announcements: Brian is bursting with an announcement he’s not allowed to reveal for another six months. His favorite guess: something about him stealing all the money from the company and moving to an island, but that’s actually his long game, not the short one.

Throughout November, they’re raising money for Operation Supply Drop, Travis’s favorite charity, which supports both active and retired military.

No episode of Critical Role this week due to Thanksgiving. There will also be no episode of Talks Machina next Tuesday; instead, they’ll be airing Sam’s Fireside Chat! This was a reward from the Critter donations to the Pablove Foundation.

Critical Role hoodies are back in the store; the print is very similar to the original with a bit more embellishment on the text on the back.

“Honey Heist 3: Tova’s Honies” airs this Friday at 7pm Pacific! Marisha: “It was bear-nanas.” Laura: “Oh, no.”

CR Stats: Jester has cast Blessing of the Trickster 31 times; 15 of those times were on Nott. Jester technically won her bar brawl with Sorris! She dealt 16 points of damage to his 15. Beau continues to have the most natural 20s with 49. She also has the most natural 1s, womp womp. Marisha: “Well, I roll a lot, you know?” Brian: “Well, your husband is also a tyrant and not to be messed with.” Marisha says she thinks Gil’s die is cursed and everyone gasps. How dare.

Does Brian feel the pressure of following Dani, who was such an excellent host last week? No; when he went through the potential list of fill-ins, the only one that made sense was Dani.

Marisha sees Darktow as a super-abusive socialist society, which does not sit well with Beau. It’s a silk trap.

Jester’s conversation with Caleb was triggered by Fjord’s kiss, especially with her wondering if it really meant anything to either of them. Laura thinks of her high school crushes and how hard you crushed & how devastated you were at every perceived slight; Jester only has the view of romance through her mother, which means physical affection is very different from emotional affection in her mind. On Brian’s asking, Laura’s high school crush was Han Solo. When Laura’s sister was 12, she paid her $15 to paint Han and Leia in a dip kiss, which she still has framed in her current house. I’m dying, this is adorable.

Beau doesn’t exactly trust that Fjord is going to do the right thing, but him sleeping with Avantika doesn’t trigger her red flags in terms of “looking out for each other, keeping each other in check.” She’s looking more for them bullying someone when they don’t need to, being violent when it’s not necessary. “Pursuing power to endless depths and fucking hot pirates, that’s fine with Beau. She just doesn’t want to kill children.” Brian marvels at how this fits into Jester & Caleb’s conversation about killing people from the most recent episode.

Jester can tell Caleb is tortured, and more than anything she wants people not to be sad around her. She just wants desperately for him to be happy.

Marisha has thought a ton about what Beau would have said if Jester had come to her first about the kiss, especially since it was Jester’s first kiss (Marisha assumes, and Jester answers in an adorably non-committal not-not-a-negative). Beau would have been game for it. She doesn’t know if Beau would have given good advice, but she would have tried her best.

Brian spills that Mary’s character’s CHA in their home game is 6. They discuss Nott’s score of 5 and enjoy themselves mightily at both of their expenses.

GIF of the Week! By @ropadoper, it’s Liam casting Reduce and then the Wall of Fire at the end of the episode, both of which involve Marisha falling out of her chair to the floor in reaction so that only her forehead is visible. Everyone is being so cute this episode I can hardly stand it.

As a reminder, an international shipping facility has been created in the UK. Laura asides to tell Travis the keys are in the diaper bag. Literally everyone is in the studio tonight except Sam, EVEN ASHLEY.

Jester thinks the Traveler always gives very good advice, but his suggestion to trick Fjord was the first time ever she felt a little hesitation to follow his advice. Brian: “Is that because he’s never been wrong or because she’s never been allowed to disagree?” Laura says it’s always been amazing advice so far, much more a best-friend relationship, but this was the first time she didn’t want to take his suggestion wholesale because she wasn’t sure it’s how she wanted to get Fjord to like her. Marisha really likes the dynamic of finding out your childhood best friend is a god.

Beau finds herself still being careful with her walls--Marisha imagines Beau was put in a lot of, like, pageant dresses as a kid--so when Jester commented on her hair and then laughed, she felt a little of that “wait, what, do you actually care? Do I look like shit?” Laura says she laughed, not Jester, because it was the most random thing to compliment Beau on.

Beau’s haircut came into being because it was cool & because Marisha wishes she were brave enough to try an undercut.

Brian’s convinced Fjord’s got gills. Dani: “What do you think Fjord is?” Brian: “Obviously a water man. Water genasi. What are water genasi?”

Beau wasn’t surprised Allison rejected her; she’s used to it. Ack. She was looking for an ally against Avantika, Big Brother style. “Instead she just shat in an alleyway with Nott.”

Laura’s not perturbed the Traveler hasn’t mentioned Fjord’s god; he doesn’t really talk about/care about other gods or patrons. Brian suggests he’s actually the Dongfather in disguise. This show’s collective mental age is smaller than Pike, haha.

Beau felt like such an interloper when Sam asked her to help with Fluffernutter, like the best friend trying to be in on a joke without really knowing what’s going on. Marisha also takes a moment to praise Laura for her Jester over the last few episodes; she’s digging into the metaphorical popcorn every time Jester & Nott start going off. (Me too, bud.) Jester’s description of the insect carrying a piece of bread is one of her favorite D&D moments ever. Both Marisha & Laura are agog at how many little plans they’ve tried have gone disastrous and then circled back around to being mostly okay again.

Beau was a little hurt when she wasn’t asked to help break into the captain’s quarters, since that’s her specialty, but it was eased by being able to help with her knowledge anyway. However, she knew since she didn’t have any magic, she had no escape plan aside from jumping off the boat. She laughs that that’s what they ended up doing anyway.

Jester views sex as a transaction, which is why she’s not particularly bothered by Fjord sleeping with Avantika.

Fanart of the Week: @jdillustrates, with a lovely portrait of Caduceus.

Jester’s warring between the logical part of her brain (he was saving her life) and the romantic part of her brain (did he want to kiss me, though?).

There are reasons Beau learned Deep Speech--not as complicated as most people think--that will be revealed eventually. “Nerdy reasons, not because she was kidnapped and turned into a cultist.”

Fjord/Avantika does make her jealous, but it’s also serving a purpose. Laura compares it to telling the high school crush to go hang out with a best friend, only to have them start dating.

Marisha doesn’t feel like Beau’s plans were overly shot down this episode--it’s something she hadn’t even noticed until this question. Marisha feels like it’s so much of a group effort with everyone trying to get to the right plan that it’s hard to pick out who contributed what part of which plan.

Brief interlude to examine a portrait of Brian that looks like George Michael.

In re: the Molly disguise: Beau felt like there was just a wall of regret walking towards her, because it was the friend she let die and the one-night stand. Beau never felt it was actually Molly, though. Jester picked Molly because when Nott said “Keg,” she instantly associated it with “someone who is really cool--who’s also super cool?” Everyone commiserates over how into the night’s shenanigans Molly would have been.

Beau was frustrated while being detained, but she also knew it was going to happen, so it wasn’t a huge issue. She felt like that was where the challenge began for her--anything to get the guard away from what was going on.

Another brief interlude where everyone experiments with how to make power vaginas with their hands. “This is the car salesman power vagina.” I feel like wherever the rails are for this show, they’re so far gone they might as well be little stars in the sky.

Laura thinks Jester’s reaction to Caleb’s backstory would be much different than Caleb imagines it. Both Laura & Marisha talk about how Caleb’s convinced the moment people realize, they’re gone; there’s also the complication that Beau’s “comforting” is not actually that comforting. “She’d say, ‘you know, they won’t care,’” (which Marisha points out, Caleb would respond--how could someone not care about this?) when what she means is, “They love you and won’t abandon you over this.”

Laura and Marisha are both pumped about Caleb’s Wall of Fire--the walk to the dock was like “getting called to the principal’s office, except the principal is going to kill you.” Laura’s immediate reaction was regret she’d tossed the gems, but she loved his decision since she was panicking IRL & her heart was legit pounding. They also both get super enthusiastic bashing Nott’s plan to dump the haversack in an alley. “It’s bright pink! Someone would have definitely seen it!”

Marisha really misses Professor Thaddeus, but is convinced she’ll never see him again. Dani: “He’s your Nymeria, your Arya.” Marisha, tearfully: “He’s gonna come with his flock of owls and gouge out everyone’s eyes but ours.”

Laura’s convinced Sprinkle is magic, since he definitely should be dead twice over.

Quebec is for Lovers: After Dark edition

Neither Laura nor Marisha are cooking this year. Laura & Travis have no Thanksgiving plans at all this year. My gosh, if they were here my parents would be stuffing them full of turkey yesterday, even though they have no idea who they are.

Brian teases Max over messing with Trinket & carrying him back and forth in his car. Dani wants one TM where Brian isn’t mean to Max. Max, offscreen: “I’m FINE. I’m GOOD.” Marisha laughs that Max was okay with Brian’s teasing but shooting daggers at the TDs laughing.

Brian gives Dani an A for amazing and adorable, but not asshole.

Dani ships Percy/Vex, Keyleth/Vax, and Fjord/Jester. Close after is Kima/Allura & Caleb/Jester. She would be surprised if it happened, but wouldn’t object. Marisha asks, as a shipper, what does Dani look for in a quality ship. Dani likes clear feelings with clear reciprocation, canon connections; she doesn’t ship a ton of subtexty stuff.

Laura has been relistening to Vex’s playlists & crying. Both she & Marisha really miss Vex & Keyleth. Liam texted Laura the other day a fanvid of Vex & Vax that made her cry.

Marisha gets emotional seeing fanart of older Keyleth because it means that she’s living on & being happy. Noelle also came up & thanked Marisha for giving Tova a purpose after the latest Honey Heist, and everyone talks about how many hours they’ve spent creating and living in these people.

Marisha can’t listen to Tokyo Sunrise by LP anymore because it instantly makes her cry.

Beau is not a mindflayer. Everyone’s convinced, Marisha.

If Laura had Jester’s paint set, she’d draw home improvements. She’d draw a door for her bathroom into Ronin’s nursery. Marisha would draw more producers--”Not to undermine the ones I have! We’re so overworked!”

Brian looks to Max for the time left, only to have missed Dani literally just giving him the signal.

Brian starts to say he’ll see us next week, but Dani tells him not to confuse us since there’s no TM next week. Brian: “We’ll see you next week this Thursday Critical Role on youtube.com, Logan Paul guest starring, along with Paul Rudd, Rudney Dangerfield...”

Max, as the sound fades: “Okay, please...”

And that’s it for tonight. See you next time, everyone!

#critical role #critical role spoilers #talks machina #talks machina spoilers #long post for ts

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jennilah · 6 years

Text

jenna’s 2018 hublublublub

its been a year!

time for me to reflect on my year!

read if you want or dont! :D

2018 was interesting! For me it was about 90% great! It was definitely filled with new and exciting things!

So I started off the year with a bang, or more like- I ended 2017 with a bang and it kind of picked up a little more in 2018. At the very very tail end of December last year I was put on to my very first vfx project- Dark Phoenix!

It was really fun working on that, personally. I had a great time. It’s really too bad I can’t go into the specifics :( but I’d say, working on an X-Men movie as my first job is A+, can’t complain! I can’t wait to see it in theaters!

Nothing new really happened for a few months, things were going calmly and slowly. I tried looking into getting a pet, one plan didn’t work out, but one did- and now I have a cute little fishie named Jeremy! I will say unfortunately Jeremy isn’t doing too well these days, and I’m trying my best to take care of him with new plants and medicines in his tank. But I love him.

This year I went to Montcon, and I had so much fun there! The panels were super fun, the people I met were super nice, and I even got to talk a little to Rachel Miner, who is super sweet :’)

Then the most amazing thing happened- I was put onto Godzilla: King of the Monsters! now most of yall should know by now I love Godzilla, and I LOVE this series, and I was begging and begging and begging my studio to put me on it, when it finally happened!!! That’s another thing I can’t really talk about, but I thought the experience was challenging yet amazing. I have a good handful of shots in the film that are AMAZING and I can’t fucking wait until that movie comes out and I finally get to share them!

Then I had a road trip with work friends to NYC, and we had a blast! I’d love to go roadtripping with them again sometime :’)

In came the summer, where I tried something new: Online dating. It was frustrating but kind of exciting.

Then, I got a ps4 in the tail end of July. It’s been five months and I’ve uh... I’ve only played one game on it. And that is, if you haven’t noticed, Detroit: Become Human. Like all of my hyperinterests, I let this game consume my life, and I just fucking love it. I still love spn, but it’s kind of exciting to have a new THING, you know? Spn has been my THING for... six years? almost seven? The only thing that came close to dethroning it was Godzilla. But having something new to draw fanart of and read fics of and watch videos of is refreshing. I still have spn but its nice to have another thing.

Around the same time, I got some great news at work! I got my very first raise, which made me so happy and proud of myself!

I can’t remember when in the summer they took place, but I also went to Montreal Comic Con and Otakuthon, and had a blast at those! I love cons!! Cons, movies, and episodes of my fave shows are what I look forward to all year!

Then I got put onto Doctor Dolittle, which I’m still on for a little while :) I love this one too, its very different from working on Xmen and Godzilla but it has its own challenges

There was one really intense day where I volunteered to help out on Aquaman, and I’m never going to forget “that one day I was on Aquaman”. What I did on it is nothing to write home about, but it was one wild day! I still have yet to see the movie, I really want to!

Then in the next few months, I met and dated this super cool guy, and that went well for a while! I finally had my very first boyfriend! Then if you’ve been following closely, you’ll know that it didn’t last very long... Unfortunately it was a “it’s not you, it’s me” sort of thing and I broke it off. He never did anything wrong, and he’s super nice and he’s going to make someone very happy one day, but I decided it just wasn’t right for me.

Then a few weeks ago, I got ANOTHER raise! Two raises in one year? When I was told the news, I was nearly fuckin floored. I was still riding the high of getting my first raise, and to be told to my face that they really do like me and my work and want to compensate me for it? Omg I almost cried.

That’s about it for the biggest things from this year! It was mostly characterized by gettin’ shit done at work, and meeting and hanging out with new friends! I won’t bother with the details of each thing, but I went out on the town with my friends several times this year, and I love it! and i love them! and I cant wait for our future excursions!

I can’t fucking wait for 2019, for a few reasons! and those reasons are Godzilla and Xmen! lol I can’t can’t can’t can’t wait to finally get to see and share my very first animation projects, and boy howdy what exciting projects to share! I also can’t wait to find out what new things I’ll get to work on! I fucking love my job!!!!

#jennilargh

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fountainpenguin · 6 years

Note

Question Meme: (Ignore this if you don't want to answer all these....) 1, 2, 3, 28, 31, 33, 40 (sorry i couldn't pick one)

40 Questions For ‘Fic Writers Meme

#1 - Describe your comfort zone—a typical you-fic.

Gradual character development spread across a piece with deepened, believable worldbuilding. You know, I often say I’m not into romance, but here’s the thing: A nice long, serious slow burn does a person good. I’ll happily accept romance if an author can really get me into the minds of the characters and make me want their relationship to develop as much as the characters do.

It’s shallow romance that rubs me the wrong way. Give me two characters who honestly, truly care about each other to the point where they’ll sacrifice something they love, or even be willing to let each other ago if it means the one they love will be happy. I love that. But if you’ve got one character who will pitch a fit rather than let their love be happy with someone else, you’re really working uphill with me.

Worldbuilding doesn’t have to be as deep and complex as my ‘fics tend to get, but I do love to see how different authors expand the same world in different ways. I’m not a big fan of horror and for some reason I just can’t get into sci-fi. I enjoy fantasy and biology.

Really, I love anything that doesn’t contradict canon. AUs? Eh, sometimes, but they’re not my favorite. I like behind-the-scenes, between-the-lines, believable futures, and backstory pieces with some nice worldbuilding. And some complex characters who don’t always make the best choices and then have to suffer the consequences for their actions. Yes. ‘Fics like those are very nice.

#2 - Is there a trope you’ve yet to try your hand at, but really want to?

A queerplatonic relationship that’s happy, healthy, and long-lasting. You would think I would let my aro/ace children be happy, but alas, ‘tis not to be! You could say I like to squash zucchinis. I am self-projecting my own insecurities. I made Bennett a horrible person to show the “worst possible relationship with an aro/ace who wants a sexless marriage” so that the hopes and dreams of the other aro/ace characters look more reasonable by comparison. I do that a lot.

Okay, I lied. I can think of six “official” queerplatonic relationships we will see in my FOP works, and one of them actually does have a happy ending. I mean, probably. I haven’t written it yet, so who knows?

Spoiler alert: Mario and Peach are the OTQP and I’m going to milk it. What can I say? I call ‘em like I see ‘em and canon literally gave us a plumber who’ll collect 120 Power Stars in return for cake, and a princess who turned down his hand in marriage after all the times he’s rescued her, but adores him anyway.

#3 - Is there a trope you wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole?

“We pretend to hate each other but secretly we’re both in love and will one day in the heat of the moment spontaneously confess our romantic feelings and form a mutual, caring relationship without any further character development.”

I don’t know if it’s because I’m a very serious, honest, straightforward person (being INTJ and all), or if it’s because I’m asexual, or if it’s a combination of both (or neither), but I can’t stand huge plots about people refusing to admit that they like someone. Love has always been a logical thing to me. I was sixteen before I found out sexual attraction was a real thing. I don’t really understand it, but I guess it’s possible to have physical feelings for someone even if you don’t logically want to? And you can’t stop yourself or turn it off? I honestly don’t know how that works, which is why the “I wish I wasn’t physically attracted to you” trope has infuriated me since childhood. I just didn’t get it.

Even before I realized I was asexual, I would have discussions with my mom about how if I ever had a crush, I would openly admit this to my friends if they asked. I wouldn’t protest or deny, as I see so many media characters do. Then it turned out I’m incapable of feeling physical attraction and I get friendship squishes instead of romantic crushes, so that happened.

As a general rule of thumb, you should trust the characters I write if they say they aren’t attracted to someone. If they like someone, they’ll tell you so. If they don’t, they’ll tell you that too. And if they’re confused, then it will be very clear that they’re confused. No means no. I’m very strict about that. Don’t read into it looking for signs that they’re being secretive even to the reader. They are not. I emotionally cannot bring myself to do that.

#28 - Share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much.

Oooh. I’m going to say that Shaddic takes the cake on this one. If you’re a Total Drama fan, or even if you’re not, then “Daddy’s Characters” will break you deliciously like very few fanfics will. “Before and After” is just a step behind it. The emotion captured by these ‘fics is incredible, and I highly, highly recommend them if you’re into evil villains who are undeniably and yet realistically cruel. Both ‘fics revolve around Mike and his multiple personalities (“Daddy’s Characters” revolving around adult Mike and Zoey, married with a daughter and with twins on the way, coping with something horrid that lands a distraught Mike in prison, and “Before and After” being the trauma-filled childhood backstory ‘fic).

Shaddic characterized everyone perfectly. So horribly, painfully well. Ugggh, I love it. My gallery has Identity Theft on the way, which will revolve around Foop and Hiccup and some multiple personality trauma, but it won’t be as beautiful as Shaddic’s work. They’re honestly worth a read if you ever have the time one day, even if you aren’t a Total Drama fan. You really don’t need to know the show to enjoy them. And enjoy them (and suffer) you will. In all my years, I’ve never seen an evil villain portrayed so… villainously. Love it.

I’m also a fan of SelanPike- partially for sentimental reasons, I suppose. I remember reading her Mario ‘fics over and over eight years ago, and I still read them today on a regular basis. Crazy how time flies. They’re just ones that I love going back to. As most of you know, I tend to fall in love with background characters. Fawful, Kamek, and Doopliss fit those qualifications- and coincidentally, those three are Selan’s favorites too! Technically, it’s because of her that the 130 Prompts project came to be. I always loved her 100 one-shot challenge, and that’s sort of how I eventually decided to write my own.

I really admire Selan for her characterizations. Her Kamek portrayal is my all-time favorite. So is her Fawful, her Doopliss, her Bowser, her Bowser Jr, her E. Gadd… she’s just a master of character. Even her freaking Jojora is spot-on. I mean, talk about background characters, am I right? Ha. Her writing is excellent and she has some fun plots. I always enjoyed drinking up her fanart and reading her comics on her deviantArt too. Still do. She has such a fun, bouncy art style. Her 8-page comic about Fawful attending school in the Mushroom Kingdom after Kamek hits him with the truant officer threat gets me every time.

I highly recommend “Until Tomorrow” (Her post-“Superstar Saga” ‘fic about Kamek and Fawful attempting to revive Cackletta so Kamek can kick her butt in a magic fight and Fawful can get the mother figure he refuses to call his mother figure back), and her famous ‘fic “On My Own” (about Fawful coping with Cackletta’s death and eventually working his way up the Koopa Kingdom social ladder). “Fragmented Spectrum” is a wonderful, tense, horror-ish ‘fic as well, with my absolute favorite Bowser Jr. portrayal. Plus, I love the rivalry between Kamek and Fawful seen in “F.S.” with Fawful trying to draw magic circles that he decided must be 100% perfect to count as circles, and Kamek not even knowing how to deal with him and his technology brain. Beautiful.

Check out the rest of her gallery too. Her two FFN fandoms are Mario and Invader Zim. She isn’t active there anymore, but her ‘fics are worth the read. I will say that I’m not a fan of her ‘fic “Everything You Ever” because I feel that Cackletta was way too sweet and nice for an evil villain in that one. But then again, I haven’t read it in years, so who knows. I’m not crazy about Selan’s Peach portrayal either, but that’s where my third recommendation comes in.

GuardianM1234 is a recent discovery of mine, and she does not disappoint. I’m a big fan of her ongoing ‘fic “Smoke” (which updates twice a month right now and is nearing its climax). It’s basically the story of Peach and Bowser growing up, and the development of their relationship from being fairly friendly as children to their complex relationship as adults. I’ve never seen Peach portrayed so perfectly, and I adore her. Never thought I would, but I do. Guardian also has a very unique take on Mario that’ll really make you squirm.

I love Guardian’s writing because she pits characters in emotionally-difficult situations and lets them learn and grow. They make bad choices, but she demonizes no one. Not even Bowser. Plus, Bowser has a little sideplot with Clawdia going on (the canon mother of the Koopalings if you know your deep hidden lore, though since the Koopalings were recently ruled “not Bowser’s children” by Nintendo’s “official” canon, I don’t know if she will be their mother in “Smoke” or where Guardian is taking this ‘fic). Basically, what I’m saying is, Clawdia and Bowser roastfest. Be there. They crack me up. And Guardian’s TOADSWORTH is perfection. Please give that old boy his gossip.

Plus, Daisy takes Bowser shopping for wedding dresses once and he bribes her with a six-pack of soda. Nice, short chapters with a few pleasant hints of worldbuilding slipped in, and a LOT of character. Guardian is still somewhat new to fanfiction, but she’s very sweet and she would adore some reviews if you do read her work. If you love her stuff, give her a shout-out! She’s great.

#31 - Do you take liberties with canon or are you very strict about your fic being canon compliant?

I fall halfway between this one. The answer is, sort of both! For my main fandoms, I have one rule: I don’t contradict canon, unless canon contradicted itself and I was forced to pick a side. Origin gets so deep into biology and Knots into culture that they feel more like original works than fanfics sometimes, because I’ll flesh things out as much as I want to. So that’s sort of a liberty I take with canon. But I never contradict canon if I don’t have to. I always comply.

It’s a puzzle. I love connecting dots behind the scenes. I love forcing everything that’s canon to be canon, even if it looks like it contradicted itself. If I can solve a plot hole, I try to. I will make ridiculous backbends to fit colorful Anti-Fairy eyes, Crocker’s ebb and flow of wealth, Miss Idaho’s “rare genetic condition that prevents her from aging,” Mary Alice Doombringer’s random abilities, and Girlfriend the cat’s sentience into Riddleverse canon, and I’ll love every second of it. I only cut a piece of canon out if I feel like I absolutely have to. It’s fun.

I can definitely enjoy reading ‘fics that stray from canon, and might even write them on occasion. But the reason why I write fanfics is because I loved the canon and I want to see it expanded, not taken away. I’d like to publish my original works someday, so if I’m not sticking close to source material, why would I write a fanfic that I could publish as an original work instead?

For the same reasons, I’d rather read a fanfic that expands on canon than eliminates it. When I fall in love with something, I fall in love with its world. I like ‘fics that blend worldbuilding aspects in with the plot they’re writing, even if it’s a short one-shot. I don’t love reading something that feels like its writer just inserted the names of popular characters into their otherwise original work so that people would read it. I want to have the little details and feel convinced that these are the characters (and the world) that I love. Personal preference.

In some cases, I default to realism over canon, such as by giving Cosmo the ability to recognize faces. In my psychology classes, I’ve learned that sometimes during investigations, police will show pictures to people and ask them to select the face that matches the one they were shown earlier. People pretending to be mentally handicapped in some way will often get the answers wrong on purpose in an attempt to maintain their facade, while those who are actually mentally handicapped will get them right. Just a nitpicky thing I do.

So I often favor realism over canon in certain ways, even if it possibly contradicts canon a bit. I respect canon and try to stay true to it as much as possible because I enjoy doing so, but I don’t consider myself 100% beholden to it, especially considering how many different contributors there can be to a project over the years. I do my best, but enjoying what I write comes first.

#33 - How do you feel about crack?

I can enjoy the occasional way-out-there thing, but I prefer serious stories in general.

#40 - Write an alternative ending to [insert fic title] (or just the summary of one).

Well, you didn’t give me a ‘fic you wanted to see an alternate ending to, but I do have a few short pieces I can share. You see, the “That Was Then” Prompt (the Jay Rhoswen and his studies about Anti-Fairies one) wasn’t supposed to end the way it did. Here is how it was meant to go:

Rhoswen scooted back hand over hand along the counter, his feet skittering in the vapor. What in the name of dust was he doing? He shouldn’t be looking at his wife’s counterpart more than at his wife! He shouldn’t be having these sorts of thoughts at all!

Anti-Shylinda placed her palms to his cheeks and gazed into his eyes. “No talk,” she whispered, and when she leaned forward, those burning lips closed over his.

As for whether that Seelie Courter chose to kiss the anti-fairy back once she’d started to draw away? Well… You ought to look to the term “Rhoswen syndrome” to answer that.

I didn’t like the idea of Anti-Shylinda being the one to make moves on Jay, so I scrapped it. Not only that, but the whole piece is written as snippets from Rhoswen’s journal now, so the voice here no longer fit the narrative.

At the end of the first chapter of Frayed Knots, “String Theory”, Anti-Cosmo cuts off the tips of his ears. I was originally going to expand the scene as follows:

Blood spattered the floor. With a hiss through my teeth, I withdrew the knife and dabbed the blood up with my sleeve. The stone might stain.

Recalculating, I dragged my stool over to the sink. The angle was awkward, but at least my blood would wash easily away. There, I slit off the tip of my ear, cutting carefully around my first canetis ring. Then I mirrored the action on the other side. Both rings bounced across the stone with a clink, click, clatter.

I uncurled my tongue and set the knife aside. Then I took the severed tips of my ears and held them to my head again. It took three agonizing minutes, but the smoke that filled my veins stretched out and wound around my fingers. It absorbed my ears and pressed them into place again. Full, soft, and whole. I fingered the gashes mother’s piercing clamp had left behind. Apparently, even regeneration couldn’t heal injuries left by an unenchanted tool. Useful information to know.

The canetis rings disappeared into my pocket. Then I got up and pushed open the window. I took a running start, dove out, and unfurled my wings.

However, I kind of liked leaving the chapter on the cliffhanger of “Oh my gosh, what did he just do to himself???” I also couldn’t include a sink in the castle in a time period when there is no indoor plumbing. Then I decided that I would rather give Anti-Cosmo permanent gashes in his ears he had caused himself, rather than ones caused by his mother, to always remind him (and everyone around him) of that day he stood against Anti-Fairy tradition. Kind of a shame to delete the scene since I like how it gave us information about smoke and Anti-Fairy healing right from the start. I might recycle it later.

Actually, if we’re talking about the original version of Knots, everything was supposed to be different than what it was. Here is another deleted scene that was originally planned to be the opening scene of Knots:

“Mum, I’m nine and a half minutes old. I’m not a baby anymore. Come on, please? You let Anti-Robin leave home to get his wand when he was only three!”

“You weren’t even born yet. How can you possibly know that?”

“He told me about thirty seconds ago, right before you came in here.” I grabbed my mother’s skirt in two tiny fists. “Mum, I’m going to be the only pup in the colony without a wand. What about our image?”

She wavered visibly, running her thumb along her staff. “Well…”

Father peered over his spectacles and frowned. “Now, wait just a minute here, Anti-Florensa. He’s just a pup. You can’t send him into the woods to gather the materials for his first wand all by himself.”

“But it has always been our family’s tradition,” she sniffed. “It’s not as though he’ll die. On the contrary, I’m more concerned about him killing valuable plants with his acid. Anti-Cosmo, you’re drooling again.”

I wiped my mouth. “Sorry, Mum.”

I really loved the “I’m nine and a half minutes old- I’m not a baby anymore!” idea, especially since there aren’t many times when you’ll have the chance to use it. As you can see, Frayed Knots was going to begin with baby Anti-Cosmo leaving his manor home alone to obtain his first wand.

But overall, in the end, I decided that it was more important to show the importance of smoke in Anti-Fairy culture, and we ended up with the scene we have now. Also, I really wanted Anti-Cosmo to grow up never knowing who his father was until several years after Anti-Robin had died, which meant I had to scrap or replace this scene in some way anyway.

The “Mama’s Boy” Prompt was actually written with the manor idea in mind, and I believe Anti-Florensa even uses the word “manor” in it. I added an author’s note to that piece several months ago mentioning that “Mama’s Boy” is semi-canon for now until Frayed Knots is finalized. A lot has changed.

Some other deleted scenes from the early plans of “Anti-Cosmo lives with his family in a manor near the Castle, and they are nobles but not royalty” include:

“I got something for you, kiddo.” Anti-Robin flicked an aluminum medal across the table that read #2 Son. I grinned.

“This is for me? Thanks! I love it!”

He tilted down his glasses. “You say, ‘Thank you, Father, for this generous gift.’”

I repeated the words, and he tousled my hair. “Now, go do second son things.”

“Yes, sir! I will! Thank you, Father!” With the medal swinging from my neck, I trotted happily off.

and

I clung to the frame of his office door, beating my wings to keep myself from staggering forward. I knew better than to cross the threshold, even though there was nothing I wanted more in the universe right then than to throw my arms around his waist and squeeze him in a hug. The bruise Mother had left on my arm hurt even more now than it did in the kitchen, somehow. My eyes slid back and forth across his desk.

“Where are you going?”

Anti-Robin calmly placed another folded shirt inside the suitcase. “Back to Anti-Scarlett’s.”

“With your other family?” I asked. “With her kids, Anti-Xavier and Anti-Tom?”

“Yes.”

“Why can’t I come with you? I want to meet them.”

“It’s a dad thing.” He closed the suitcase with two clicks and turned around. His eyes were steely calm, his frown very firm. “You’ll understand when you’re older.”

and

“ELEANOR!”

Anti-Robin and I grabbed our mouths and looked at each other, gaping with our eyes. Mother was over 150,000 years old. Her real name wasn’t supposed to be said out loud.

Father slammed a newspaper on the table, then stepped back and crossed his arms. “Might I inquire what the meaning of this is, ‘dear’?”

“Whatever do you mean?” she asked, not looking up from the end of her staff. She studied its base, then ran her polish rag across it again.

“Anti-Bryndin had the green fairy locked up, and I know you’re behind it.”

So, don’t feel too sad that Anti-Cosmo grows up without a dad in my works! It wouldn’t have been the best relationship anyway. Besides that, now that I’ve had time to think about it, this Anti-Robin portrayal isn’t that far off Ambrosine, and I’d rather H.P. and Anti-Cosmo had fathers with very different personalities.

If you have a really sharp memory, you may possibly remember seeing that medal around Anti-Cosmo’s neck when I drew my late-night FOP/Moana doodle dump that one time.

I also have oodles of scenes deleted from Anti-Cosmo’s visit to Winkleglint’s estate, since originally Scarletfeather was supposed to show up and Anti-Cosmo panicked when he couldn’t stop Scarletfeather from luring Mr. Thimble away. I could have filled another entire chapter with what happened during that study abroad week, but in the end I decided they were mostly self-indulgent and not important enough in the grand scheme of things to justify leaving in.

I’m skimming through my files of deleted scenes and I forgot I had this one too. Anti-Cosmo wasn’t supposed to have his intelligence test proctored by Ambrosine originally, as I was going to send him to this mental hospital facility. I decided against it, but here is a terrifying scene that we almost got. So, it’s technically an alternative ending too:

Dr. Gabriel handed me a piece of bark marked with the word Failed. “Don’t get cocky. Everyone has their limits.”

Failed? That lout outright failed me? I dropped the bark strip and looked up as Dr. Gabriel spread his wings. With a few sharp beats, he flew out of the pit. I chased after him, searching the platform above me with my eyes. So I couldn’t fly, and I was short, but I could make that leap-

“Oof!”

Or… perhaps not. I slid back down to the floor and landed on my rump. Never one to be deterred, I leaped back to my feet. Something to boost me, something to boost me… Oh! Snatching up his forgotten broom, I backed against the opposite wall, and then ran forward. I shoved the handle of the broom into the corner offered by the platform and the floor and launched myself into the air. Yes! Yes! Ahahaha! I hurtled out of the pit and went rolling across the ground. Dr. Gabriel spun around, his mouth falling open in surprise.

“Please,” I begged him, climbing to my feet again. My broken wings batted feebly behind me. “I want to gain a Fairy education. Level with me, doctor. You don’t want Anti-Fairies filling up your precious conservative school. And I don’t want Anti-Fairies filling it up either. True, we Anti-Fairies are known for our memories, but I like to feel special, and I shouldn’t want to chance anyone stealing my thunder away from me. You let me in, and I won’t breathe a word about your biases against my people.”

Dr. Gabriel studied me with idle coldness, clutching his tablets to his chest. He drifted a few steps backwards along the corridor. “Anti-Cosmo, your genius is entirely creative. You’re severely behind in your knowledge of technical skills, and you lack basic common sense as well as a sense of self-preservation. Because of this, we can’t recommend you be placed in any advanced programs. You’ll need to stay where you’re at.”

The corners of my mouth twisted into a frown. Then a sneer. “Frankly, Dr. Gabriel, I’m not particularly fond of that option.”

With that, I yanked out the can of forget-a-cin I’d nicked from his pouch when he’d been turned the other way. Dr. Gabriel had time to look horrified before I mashed the button down. My eyes were squeezed shut, but even so, the world around me lit with white. I let the empty canister fall to the floor and opened my eyes again to find the nervous fairy glancing around in bewilderment.

“There,” I said. “I’ve just put a block over this memory of yours. I do hope no one else would care to challenge me, or I will be forced to perform the same trick on them. Now, I demand that you, good sir, will have me enrolled in all the classes of my choosing. Is that understood?”

Dr. Gabriel’s wandering eyes finally latched onto me. His shoulders shivered, although he possibly didn’t remember why. He bobbed a bit lower in the air. Then his wings fell silent altogether, and he leaned his back against the wall. He slid down to the floor. “S-security! Security?”

His voice was too weak for anyone who wasn’t an Anti-Fairy to hear. I sighed. Covering my eyes again, I made a signal with my other hand. “Oh, dear. I do apologize. I really never do this, you must understand. It’s so messy.”

If he hadn’t been so hazy from the aftereffects of the forget-a-cin, I’m sure Dr. Gabriel wouldn’t have let me get away with as much as he did. As it happened, I walked right up to him and lay my claw against the karmic pouch on the left side of his neck. He yelped, but I knocked his clumsy hands away from me without any real effort. I braced my hand against my hip.

“I really never do this. It’s vile and crude. So sorry, I really am. But then again, well, perhaps I’m really not.” And with that, I sunk my fangs into his neck. Blech. He tasted of old mutton.

Dr. Gabriel screamed. He twisted, his shoulders rapidly seizing up. I rolled my eyes and kept my fangs embedded until his coughs turned to silence and he had frozen in place, as still as a stone statue. Only then did I wrench back my head, bringing the coils of his karmic weave along with me. Most of them were blue, but here and there a pink one surfaced, or a yellow. As the colourful threads of his life whisked above us, I stood back and traced one claw beneath my eye.

“Anti-Fairy tears consist mainly of sulfuric acid, of course. And I daresay you hurt my feelings quite a bit back there, didn’t you?”

Forcing myself to cry came as naturally as forcing myself not to cry always had. I captured the burning tear on the end of my claw and, very slowly, held it out towards the paralyzed fairy sitting against the wall. For several long seconds, I let him see it glistening there. Threatening to drip down on the place where I had bitten him. Which was still bleeding.

“I never do this,” I said again, truthfully apologetic. “It’s messy and you’ll be rather cross when you wake up, assuming you wake again at all. But it is true that I am crying, and here you are, lying so very still. We’re standing rather close, aren’t we? So close that I could touch you.”

Lacking the ability to move, all Dr. Gabriel could do was sit numbly, his mouth gaping. I lowered my claw towards his neck.

“But it’s only a single tear, isn’t it? Why should a fairy care if he made an anti-fairy child cry? No, a single tear cannot hurt your conscience. A single tear may sting your skin, perhaps, but it shouldn’t cause any long-lasting problem so long as no liquid in your body is particularly warm. Oh, wait…” Here I feigned surprise, and brought my claw a mere centimetre from his karmic pouch. Green liquid trickled down his neck. I smiled. “Why, internal Fairy body temperature borders on the boiling point, does it not? Oooh, I’d hate to see what happens when that acid comes into contact with your blood. I’ve heard it’s prone to such catastrophic explosions.”

There was, of course, no reply. Sighing, I withdrew my handkerchief from my pocket and wiped the tear from my claw.

“No, but I suppose I’m a gentleman, so I shan’t leave you comfortless. As I told you, I really never do this. I’m all boasts and bluster, really. That’s all I really am. Let’s get you cleaned up, lad.”

I was just wiping away the last drops of acid from his stunned face when the door opened behind me. I looked over my shoulder to find Anti-Jolene floating there with a clipboard in hand. She took in the threads of wild karma and my kerchief, and looked at me with her ears cocked forward.

“So… How is it going?”

I sighed and tucked the handkerchief away. “Dr. Gabriel and I have just finished, painfully. I say, are business deals with Fairies always so messy?”

She smiled a thin smile. “It would behoove us to find a neutral party who could settle things between our two races more easily, wouldn’t it?”

“I’ll be cleaning karma out of my fur for weeks,” I muttered, and went about gathering up his tangled threads so I could stuff them back inside his soul.

He was one messed up kid in this draft, that is for sure. Who knows? Perhaps I’ll find a place for this scene in the current version someday, if I ever need to send an older Anti-Cosmo to a mental health facility. For now, however, it’s deleted.

“This Is a Box” was actually supposed to end differently as well. And of course, so was “This Is Halloween.” Every once in awhile I’ll have a piece get away from me and end the way it wants, but most of them end the way I plan from the start.

Thanks for all your requests! I really appreciate your curiosity!

#Anon #asks #riddleverse mention #Ace Penguin #Mushrooms and more #FAIRIES!#Reading recommendations #130 Prompts #ridwriting #The bat with the hat #Bat cube and associates #Frayed Knots #Ask box games

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rpgmgames · 7 years

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June’s Featured Game: Living Playground: The Witch’s Puppets

DEVELOPER(S): Meaka ENGINE: RPGMaker XP GENRE: Supernatural, Puzzle WARNINGS: Both implied and shown violence to the children, Emotional abuse, Blood SUMMARY: With what starts as a simple day at the park, siblings Tony, Pablo, and Octavio are once again caught up in a series of strange circumstances such as strange pocket dimensions, coordinated monsters, and more geese than anyone could ever want to see in their lives. Stranded with them are Haze and Seal, two witches who seem to be connected with whatever nonsense is going down. As witches tend to be.In the simplest of terms, this game is about friendship and relating to others, both the good and the bad. With an unfortunate focus on the bad. It will be mostly straightforward with only one ending.

Download the demo here!

Our Interview With The Dev Team Below The Cut!

Introduce yourself! *Hi hello I'm Meaka. I've been kicking around the RPG Maker scene since like 2012 with my first game release in 2014. Whether that makes me but a wee RPGM baby or a seasoned veteran is probably dependent on how "long" you'd consider that h-haha. I'm an animator and illustrator, so visual development is my strong suit.

What is your project about? What inspired you to create your game initially? *Meaka: The Witch's Puppets is best summed up as "a game about friendship." Part of my motivation for creating it was simply personal catharsis: it deals heavily with circumstances that impacted my own life greatly and affects how I interact with people to this very day. Beyond real-life experiences, a big inspiration is Hatoful Boyfriend: Holiday Star in terms of how emotionally raw and powerful it is while also carrying on its sense of humor.

How long have you been working on your project? *Meaka: Far too long oh man. As a reference, my first game took me maybe six to eight months on and off to complete. I'm. almost 3 years into The Witch's Puppets and while I can probably hope for the best in terms of my completion rate, it's been a wild ride. (Did you know I thought it'd only take a year? 2014 me, how innocent you were...)

Did any other games or media influence aspects of your project? *Meaka: I say this like everywhere and I'm sorry if I'm repeating myself, but a huge inspiration for my art in general is the Kirby series. It has such a flawless blend of cute-to-macabre that I absolutely love and hope to capture that same feeling in my own work! Living Playground was inspired by the usual "RPG Maker/ Wolf RPG Editor" games (mostly Ib and Alice_mare) which led to it's "kind of horror but not really" flavor.

Have you come across any challenges during development? How have you overcome or worked around them? *Meaka: In all honesty, just staying motivated three years into a project is difficult. I'm absolutely ecstatic to be making this game and bring it to people for them to play, but it's so easy to be excited about the cool parts and hit a wall production-wise when it comes to the mundane and tedious parts, particularly programming events that tend to be made up of a ton of conditional branches, variables, and occasionally will crash RMXP. So I give myself breaks on occasion and try to switch it up between whether I work on visual assets or RPG Maker programming, and sometimes I flip over to side projects (be it jam games or just other art).

Have any aspects of your project changed over time? How does your current project differ from your initial concept? *Meaka: From my initial concept, beyond certain themes and characters, they're two entirely different storylines. I actually gutted the entire script and started over at least twice during the course of production because of things not flowing well, weird writing choices by me, or just ideas that I slowly realized weren't that good. In particular, a very big part of some rewriting came from having some friends look over my script + game doc and pointing out some flaws that were from too much personal investment. If you're ever in a tight spot and not sure if stuff reads right, get some friends to beta read for you!

What was your team like at the beginning? How did people join the team? If you don't have a team, do you wish you had one or do you prefer working alone? *Meaka: In my first game it was just me until I threw it at some people to beta test. That was an interesting experience. For the Witch's Puppets, I commissioned music from the absolutely amazing ProjectTrinity and needing to consolidate my ideas and express them in a way for someone to create music for it helped me commit to my ideas and also helped me put into words what I couldn't really describe well beforehand. I haven't really had the chance to work fully on a team. I'd sure love to, but I fear my hectic life schedule would hold back whatever team I would want to join.

What was the best part of developing the game? *Meaka: I may be an animator and used to this by now, but there's something really magical about making your characters and putting them into a thing and then they move around. It just feels really nice. Also for me, I love telling stories and entertaining people, so I hope that my games allow me to do that! Whenever someone offhand mentions they enjoy something I make, it fills me with the warm fuzzies. (And don't even get me started on fanart. I literally cry.)

Looking back now, is there anything that regret/wish you had done differently? *Meaka: I absolutely want to 100% go back and remake Living Playground one day. It was the best I could do at the time, but now that I know so much more about what RPG Maker can and can't do, I want to go back and fix all those little things and make it more of what I wanted it to be. ... Also cut back on the ham-fisted attempts to be scary, maybe.

Once you finish your project, do you plan to explore game's universe and characters further in subsequent projects, or leave it as-is? *Meaka: I've already kind of done that! The Witch's Puppets is a sequel-but-not-really. And also Retail Hell, my Horror Funhouse jam project, is set in the same universe. As for the future, I can't say for sure that I'll make another game with the same characters, but I love the playground kids so I would never rule out the possibility of making something containing them again. Whether it's a game or not, that's a problem for Future Meaka to figure out.

What do you look most forward to upon/after release? *Meaka: It might be conceited of me, but I hope to see it give some sort of positive impact on people, even if just a little! I'd like to hope my little Friendship Game helps someone out if they're in a rough patch and at least makes them smile for a bit. Also I cannot wait to shitpost with wild abandon. Bad memes, here I come.

Is there something you're afraid of concerning the development or the release of your game? *Meaka: I always low-key fear my files corrupting and losing everything, but since I am paranoid and keep a ton of back-up copies, I don't think that's going to be an issue. There's also a small part of me that is worried about people completely missing the point, but at that point I guess it would fall on my writing...!

Question from last month's featured dev: Which of your characters do you feel like you'd get along with the most? *Meaka: Strong Pickle. There is no other answer.

Do you have any advice for upcoming devs? *Meaka: Google Drive, Dropbox, and Mediafire are good friends and back up your stuff! Also, there will be days when making your game will not be fun. You will open your version of RPG Maker and look at it with dread. Keep going. Even if it's just one event a day, one spriteset at a time, keep on poking at that game. It just seems daunting because you know what you want it to be and you're looking at the beginning of the beginning. You can do it!!!

We mods would like to thank Meaka for agreeing to our interview! We believe that featuring the developer and their creative process is just as important as featuring the final product. Hopefully this Q&A segment has been an entertaining and insightful experience for everyone involved!

Remember to check out Living Playground: The Witch’s Puppets if you haven’t already! See you next month!

- Mods Gold & Platinum

#rpgmaker #rpg maker #rpg maker games #games #game of the month #gotm #living playground #living playground: the witch's puppets #the witch's puppets #meaka #interview #dev interview #game dev

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podcake · 8 years

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Podcast Teatime: The Question Session

A very welcome February day to you all! This is my first Q&A of the new year and I thought no one was better to pick for this beloved series than the creator of The Bright Sessions podcast, Lauren Shippen.

I’ve been itching to know what this starlet in the podcasting scene has to say about her work on the show, her muses, and what she might have in store for us in the future.

(The following is a direct copy-and-paste from the email)

Hi PodCake!

Thanks for reaching out! Here are my answers:

Question One: What drove you to make the series have therapy as a central plot point? Is it more of a framing device for the overall narrative or is there a more specific reason?

It definitely started as a very convenient framing device. Everyone knows what therapy is, and has an idea of what happens there, so there wasn’t a complicated premise or world that the audience needs to buy into. It also gave me the excuse to keep things confined to two people in one room - those kinds of scenes can be hard to keep active, but with therapy as an activity in of itself, the audience doesn’t get bored (hopefully).

But ultimately, I wanted to write something that would allow characters to really discuss their feelings and delve into their own emotional lives. People rarely do this in their actual lives, but therapy provides this space.

Question Two: Is there an ultimate plan you have for your overall story or do you simply make things up as you go along?

It’s a little bit of both. My writing is always very focused on character, rather than plot, so I usually think about where I want to take the characters and build the plot around that. There are some exceptions to this (which I won’t identify here because: spoilers), but I’m rarely thinking about the big plot machinations first.

As I start to map out a season, I have a target that I’m trying to hit, whether it’s a reveal about a character, a big change in the dynamic of the group, etc. I then start to write the season with that target in mind, but how I get there is discovered along the way. This has meant that some things have changed pretty drastically from when I started out, but it has also led to some really exciting, organic discoveries about the characters themselves.

Question Three: Your show has a very interesting cast of characters. Is there a specific character you have the funnest time writing for? Whose the hardest character to put on paper?

I think this shows in his scripts, but I love writing Caleb. That’s why his scripts are usually at least 5 pages longer than everyone else’s. I like getting my brain into that teenage boy voice and I love the contradictions that Caleb contains - he’s smart, but so often oblivious; he’s very caring, but he also has an anger problem; he wants to talk about his feelings, but he can be so bad at communicating.

I’m also really enjoying writing both Mark and Wadsworth this season. Mark is such a cheery, charismatic person who has been through so much trauma - balancing who he is by nature with what has happened to him is a fun challenge. Wadsworth is just…she’s awesome, and so unbelievably arrogant, but has reason to be, and that’s a lot of fun to write.

Chloe is definitely the hardest to write. She’s constantly having at least two conversations: the one that’s happening out loud and the one she’s participating in in her head with everyone’s thoughts. Chloe is always at least one step ahead of everyone she’s talking to, so balancing each of those conversations and thinking about how what she’s hearing is affecting her own emotional state can be really difficult.

Question Four: I tend to use The Bright Sessions as a great example of expressive and effective acting in audio drama and I’m curious as to where you found so many wonderful actors. Did you already know them all or did you seek them out yourself?

I am lucky enough to live in Los Angeles, where I am surrounded by incredible actors that the big shots haven’t discovered yet. Most of the cast are from an acting class I’ve been taking at The BGB Studio for three years. Julia (Dr. Bright), Briggon (Caleb), Charlie (Damien), Andrew (Mark), Phillip (Frank), and Alanna (Rose) all go to that studio and that’s where I met them.

Anna (Chloe) and I met in a UCB class three years ago, and she introduced me to Ian and Alex M., who play Agent Green and Wadsworth respectively. Briggon, appropriately, introduced me to Alex G., who plays Adam. And then we have Reyn, who plays Charlie Decker, and who I know from ars Paradoxica, which our sound producer, Mischa Stanton, created. So it really is a family affair.

Question Five: The Bright Sessions has been achieving a lot of success in the podcast community over the few years it’s been out. Did you expect it? What do you attribute this success to?

I definitely did not expect it. I certainly hoped that people would listen, and had lofty goals to have tens of thousands of subscribers, but when we started out I assumed that was a pipe dream. I - and I think this applies to everyone else involved as well - have been delightfully surprised by its success at every turn. In just the 15 months we’ve been doing this, we’ve had so many people listen and send us messages and draw fanart and be enthusiastic, and we are incredibly grateful.

I wish I could tell you that we followed a very specific set of steps to have a successful podcast, but I honestly have no idea how we’ve gotten to where we are. Obviously, I’m proud of the show - I wouldn’t make it if I thought it wasn’t good - and I think people should listen, but I’m still surprised by how it’s taken off. I spent a lot of time in the early days on Tumblr, Reddit, Twitter, Facebook, etc., just trying to get people to listen and I think putting in those hours really helped. And then I think it’s just been a lot of dumb luck of the right people finding us.

Being featured in different publications and on iTunes has really helped people find us and those features came up more or less organically - thankfully, there are people out there who actively seek out audio drama and then write about what they like. But mostly, I think the show has done well because we’re telling stories about characters a lot of people can relate to. I’ve certainly made an attempt to write something that is engaging and compelling, but having the actors that we have to bring these characters to life is, I think, our biggest asset.

Question Six: What drove you to make this into an audio drama? Do you have any inspirations you’d like to credit?

The reason for making The Bright Sessions an audio drama was two fold. First, there was the practical reason: making an audio drama is far less expensive than making something for film. I needed to be able to do every step myself - the writing, the recording, the post-production - on a tight budget. Audio drama was the solution.

Second, the creative reason: I like the freedom of interpretation that audio drama provides. I’ve been in fandom spaces for a long time and, though I’ve never been a creator of fan works myself, I’ve always loved consuming them. The wonderful thing about audio dramas is the variety of listener interpretations they spur. Listening to an audio drama is like reading a book - you can fully immerse yourself and imagine the world and the characters however you like. Creating something that encouraged that kind of imagination really appealed to me. There were many creative reasons for sticking to audio, but this was the one I was most excited about.

While there aren’t any direct inspirations for the content of The Bright Sessions, Welcome to Night Vale and BBC Radio’s Cabin Pressure were the two pieces of audio fiction that I listened to before writing The Bright Sessions. WTNV is simple - mostly just one man talking into a microphone, with music. Cabin Pressure is elaborate - multiple scenes with different soundscapes and effects each episode, recorded in front of a live audience, big name actors. I didn’t have the dough for a BBC-like production and I think Night Vale only works as a mostly one-man show because of the magical combination of Cecil Baldwin, Cranor & Fink’s writing, and Disparition’s music.

That formula is impossible to replicate. When thinking about how I wanted to tell a story through audio, these shows were my two reference points and helped me find the middle ground in which The Bright Sessions exists.

BONUS: Has creating The Bright Sessions been a major impact in your life? How have things changed for you?

Oh boy, has it ever. The Bright Sessions has become my life. It started as a side project - a way for me to try my hand at writing and do some acting with a couple of friends. It has now turned into a full-time job (or, more accurately, three full-time jobs). On a practical, macro-career level, doing this podcast has completely changed the way I approach my professional life. Whereas before I was mainly an actor, I’m now a “writer/creator”.

People like the thing I make and they write about it and invite me to come places and talk about it and that could not be more different from the life of general obscurity I lived as an actor. I’m by no means famous or even known outside of podcast circles, but I do feel that I am beginning to experience a level of recognition that is exciting and weird and genuinely a bit confusing. Also on the practical side, the success of the show has opened a lot of doors to me in entertainment that were previously closed. You’ll have to stay tuned on where that leads, because I certainly can’t predict at the moment.

On a personal level, The Bright Sessions has given me so, so much. It’s given me the opportunity to work with people I deeply admire and grow something with them. I cannot ever express how rewarding that is. Beyond the friendships that doing the show has strengthened, and the amazing work I’ve been able to observe in these actors, the show has, funnily enough, been very good for my mental health. Creating the character of Sam was like giving my own anxiety a voice. I wouldn’t necessarily recommend acting out panic attacks for everyone who struggles with anxiety (those scenes are hard) but for me, it has been extremely cathartic.

Sam and I are very different people in what we want out of life, but our anxieties are the same. It is such a relief to be able to write a scene in which Sam explains why going outside or talking to people or feeling a certain way is terrifying. I now have something to point to and say, “this is who I am, this is how it feels sometimes to just go to the grocery store, these are my fears” and, while that is a vulnerable and frightening thing to lay bare, it has been oddly healing.

And then to get messages from people saying, “I relate to Sam so much, thank you for her, I feel less alone now” is truly moving for me. It makes me feel less alone and I am unbelievably grateful for that.

And, mixing the practical and the personal, doing The Bright Sessions finally made me get my act together and actually start going to therapy last year. I thought it was time for me to practice what I preach.

Such elegance. Such confidence. Such charisma towards her field! I want to thank Miss Shippen for doing this Q&A with me and to you all for reading this.

I say you make your appointment pronto and take a listen to The Bright Sessions for yourself. This has been PodCake, end recording.

#the bright sessions #podcast #lauren shippen #looking at the BRIGHT side today #ha ha #q&a #podcast teatime

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