#i mean its been bad for over half a decade at this point (heck maybe an actual decade

[insertsomthinawesome]

⚜ L u o c h a ⚜

[ducissa-animi]

A Stupid Idea (Au)

Chapter Five

That night, they welcomed little Bendy between blankets, the cradle would come later, for now the baby had to sleep with his parents.

- What was that," said the dice, caressing one of the baby's cheeks, who fell asleep as soon as he was tucked in.

- I don't know, and I don't want to think about it, if he is an angel, everything is over" whispered Devil lying down next to the child and looking at him fixedly, now he was a father, not even he could believe it, suddenly his mind embarked on other subjects, he wondered what this child would do when he grew up, he thought about what things to teach him and when to explain him the whole matter of Heaven, Earth, Limbo and Hell, he only wished that the child would not be scared and assume the power with firmness, being king is not easy, but with some lessons it is enough to be it.

Dicey on the other hand gave a yawn, walking across the room to the outside, the Casino has to close, and as manager it is his duty to close it.

On the other hand, the angel flew as fast as he could, the weather did not appetite his desires to arrive on time, the light only illuminated his path, as his halo connected with Heaven for it to illuminate.

When she arrived, she went to her room along with others of her class, the others saw her exalted and spilling water because of the storm on Earth.

-Alice, what happened? Where were you, don't you see that we have to present ourselves to the boss," said one of her classmates, adjusting his sandals, others turned to see her standing against a wall, she looked as if she had seen a ghost.

-The room was not that big, but it served for a group of 6 angels, as an office for them, this group is in charge of demonic expeditions, they participated in several wars when needed, they go 3 hierarchies below the Archangels, therefore the contact with them was very tenuous.

Among the winged ones, they saw each other in silence to then go to the call of their boss, they mostly served warrior angels, sometimes Michael, which for them, was an honor of the elders, when they left the piece, she ran to a sack of food, which only contains mana, eating about five and throw herself to a desk, grabbed a sheet any, and moistened a pen in sacred ink.

-Sir, I have news for you, AHG! HOW DO YOU WANT TO BE FORMAL IF YOU WRITE THIS WAY!" he crumpled the sheet of paper and pulled another one out of a box, his hand trembling as he had many ideas to accuse Lucifer of at that instant.

Alice really has a screw loose.

She was created 200 years before Christ (200 BC), at her 6 centuries old, she was taken to the fifth troop going to a war, it was her first time in combat, before she did not use to have feelings or persusations, she only obeyed orders.

Since angels created after the war, they do not have the sense to choose what is right or wrong, they can only obey without a drop of decision. She is flawed so to speak.

The war was about a fight against Chimeras, the latter are winged and malformed beings, praised by humans, they are dark beasts with lion and eagle feet, metal covered wings and deadly teeth.

They broke the rules that were proposed by Heaven itself, for this reason, they had to be annihilated.

Several angels fell due to their lack of cunning as such vermin, Alice was a child at that time, she fought quickly with the Chimeras, for her bad luck, one of them penetrated her lower skull with its sting, inserting its poison that fainted her instantly.

Later she was rescued by other troops, she woke up with a human sense...she felt pain, cold and anguish, angels do not feel that besides love and pain.

She opened her eyes thanks to the poison, she realized that she was doing wrong, that exterminating those beasts was wrong, but she could not raise her voice to her superiors, her mind collapsed for a decade, recovering with that sense later.

If God discovered her, the Archangels would exterminate her, because of her new intellect.

Since then she knew how to live with it, she does not obey orders as such, if she sees something is bad, she kills it even if she was not asked to.

- That's it - on her thin lips a damned smile turned, she crumpled those sheets and took out others to announce that she had work to do, she had to go back to earth and kill the baby, son of the antichrist.

She had already killed several beings far superior to her, what did it cost to cut the neck of a child who had just been born, if she brought his corpse, she would have more attention, maybe she would rise in the Hierarchy!

While her group chanted for others, she looked for the globe to go to the exact place on Earth.

By this time, 3 days had passed on Earth.

Meanwhile on this one, it was dusk as usual, Alice descended to an island near Inkwell, when she landed, the first thing she did was to approach the nearest town, she had to look elegant to make her presence in the Casino, something that would make her go unnoticed in the nest of demons.

Dressing elegant, and somewhat old-fashioned was her solution, once ready she headed to the Casino, taking the human form completely without halo, without wings...

Her heels were so refined that as she walked they seemed to sing sounds of beauty.

Her black hair and pale skin stood out among the others, a lady in black and white.

As she arrived at the Casino, the doors opened to her, along with perverted and insolent stares.

"They most likely sensed my halo" Alice excused herself, she didn't want to think they saw her because of her skimpy clothes .

Con un antifaz y unos movimientos ligeros, procedia a pedir un poco de vino, de repente le valía si la miraban, cualquier idiota que se acercara a tocarla recibiría la sorpresa de una cuchilla orgánica en un brazo, bebiendo de la copa, pensó que armar un total revuelo no era una opción, solo vino a matar a Bendy e irse con su cuerpo, nada más.

-Disculpe señor..?

-Solo hable y ya- respondió el frasco de alcohol con un gran pedazo de bigote entre su nariz y labios.

-Sabe algo acerca del recién nacido?- preguntó ansiosa, ya sentía el sabor de ser alagada por otros ángeles por haber asesinado al hijo del Diablo.

-Recién nacido?, no confundió su venir?- sugirió.

-Vaya- susurró molesta, necesitaba informarse sobre el niño, dónde se encontraba, al ver un sillón libre, se acostó sobre el, probablemente para disimular su nerviosismo

-If I didn't have a nose, it would be more comfortable- she said, fed up with that waiting she located the boy's parents at a pool table, that means they left him alone, a smile widened on her face, if her lipstick wasn't so noticeable, it would go unnoticed, carefully she lifted both feet returning to her refined walk, what did it matter, there was the smell of ink in an inkwell to be traced.

With delicate steps and without alerting anyone, she peeked through a door that was half open.

At the back, he saw little Bendy, staring at the ceiling and lying with his little feet covered, apparently sleeping with his eyes open due to his exaggerated expression.

-What a horror," said Alice insolently, since in spite of being an angel, she hates babies with all her heart, the child's eyes turned towards her, widening and looking at her seriously, he didn't make any movement, he didn't make any noise nor did he scream out of fright, it was easier for her since she wouldn't be discovered, she approached slowly taking a lighter out of her pockets, "hello, son of sin, do you want to play with mommy for a while?

-He answered, preparing to let out the scream of his life.

In no time, so it was, the Casino was silent for a few seconds after hearing the baby's scream and Dicey was the first to react to run to the child, when both parents arrived, they only saw Bendy whimpering in his crib with fire under it, some feathers and the window open.

-Oh shit- said Devil, an angel was here and he already knows it, now Heaven will know the identity of his son and that was not good at all, damn it, he repeated himself over and over again taking Bendy out of the crib and trying to tuck him in with some blankets, he saw a basket and thought of something stupid.

That night, Mugman was away since he had received a reply to his letter from Cala Maria, she agreed to his appointment and let her brother take his turn if that equaled 24 hours, the good thing was that the next day would be a weekend, one to rest according to Cuphead.

But to his surprise, while he was cleaning the kitchen, his boss put a basket next to him.

-What the heck is that," he whispered in annoyance, expecting the worst.

-It's Bendy, and you're taking him home," he waved his tail towards the cupboard and pulled out a box.

-Sir, with all due respect, I can't take your damn son to live with us!

-Not even for a raise?

-How much are you offering?

That same night Cups went home earlier than agreed with the shift, with a heavy basket in hands and a blanket covering it, he is usually known for being a crafty guy who loves beer, so people hinted at him seeing the basket he carried with a slight difficulty.

Moments later of choosing he left the basket in his living room, sitting on a nearby couch and watching it from every possible point, now he was to raise a demon, what a great "honor".

He grabbed a notebook and thought about how to explain it to Mugman when he arrived, tell him that now his boss's son was in his care.

-I want to see you," he asked with a frown, seeing Bendy's eyes protrude from the basket, he hid and showed him his thumb, "maybe I can baptize you with another name... Benito, what do you think?-thumbs down in disapproval.

VERSIÓN EN ESPAÑOL

[internalsealpanic]

The Mechanics of Living part 2

Summary:  You trick Tim into going to a closed-off sector. Things go well. a/n: I will be doing a director’s cut for this is anyone is interested (by anyone I mean @glorified-red) Warnings: very slight body horror and gore 

Main Masterlist

Tim Drake Masterlist

It was easiest to just tell Tim all the facts rather than rely on the goodwill you've built in 3 years to persuade him.

There's a reason sector 4-D was cordoned off last year. For some unknown reason, a section that had been little more than a concrete wasteland started teeming with infected life.

People say it was an abomination (An unidentifiable, Tim corrected but you still think abomination captured the appropriate dramatic for that.)  that wandered in from farther in the waste. Some people say it was one of Bludhaven's beasts they let loose. You highly doubt Bludhaven was in any shape to contain whatever it is ravaging sector 4-D. After all, it wasn't in any better shape than Gotham was at the moment. You doubt it's ever been in better shape. They're like two cities constantly caught in this vortex of awfulness, looking at each other from two different sides thinking 'poor bastards'.

Sector 4-D was an easy hunting ground where young scavengers got their feet wet before they could move on. Now it was a dead zone, a dead zone with too much potential to pass up.

Like every sector, sector 4 was vast and unexplored and supposedly, there had been a library there. A building full of books and most importantly, medical textbooks.

You feel a little bad plucking at Tim's heartstrings when all you cared about was the payout. Appealing to the guy's sense of responsibility was kind of cheating but-- BUT! The specified textbooks do have stuff about bacteria and illnesses so you aren't really overstating their importance.

You try to push down the number of zeroes the man had shown you as you zip past a rusted sign.

You don't really trust anyone other than Tim to help you with this. Besides, all the other people who won't stab you after cashing in the reward probably don't know half as many words as Tim so you'll definitely need him to get the right books.

You stare at the rows of cars before you. They're overrun with weeds and vines and rust. A stark reminder that your Gotham is just a fraction of what it had been. You stop your bike in front of a taxi with a faded yellow body.

"This is it. This is where your life as an adventurer begins."

You swallow back the wave of nostalgia, letting the bike roll past it into the mess of cars to keep it a little more hidden. It isn't illegal to go to this sector yet. At least not when you checked but you really don't wanna gamble your Scavenger's license on clerical errors by either of your guilds.

Tim steps out of the sidecar, careful not to jostle Basil in his bag. You want to point out that you should probably wake the cat up otherwise you were wasting food on him but you knew better than to expect cooperation from Tim's fur ball from hell.

“So which theory about the illness do you think is the most plausible?” He asks, tucking the walkman away. You both thought it was stupid name but you didn’t really wanna question the teller. “The one that involves the least aliens.” You pause, narrowing your eyes at Tim whose hand is currently being eaten by his cat. “Or alien adjacent things.”

“So, you're one of those people who thinks the government did it.” Tim is *such* a little shit. Maybe that’s why his guild master gave him the most useless cat on the planet. Grade A my ass, you think staring at the furball nipping at his knuckles.

“Not on purpose, no.”

Tim raises a brow. “I didn't know you had that much faith in humanity.”

“Pffff, I think they just fucked up.”  

“Here, I was accusing you of being optimistic.”

“A mistake really.”

You two come to a crossroads.  A giant large yellow lantern hangs in the middle of the street, swaying listlessly in the air. It’s strange.

“Do you think the people in the old world used those to scare away the sick?”

“If they did,” he looks around, “it didn't work.”

Your eyes flit over the area.  Stone walls crumble, vegetation willing in the cracks. Still, even with the overgrowth of life, the city feels hollowed out. Nearly a decade ago, you’d first laid a hand on one of the stone arches of the city hall just down by main street. Nearly a decade ago, you felt the stone crumble beneath the pads of your fingers. Nearly a decade ago, you had come the closest to knowing what it was like having the sickness. Even one of the great cities had been reduced to a fraction of its size.

“Do you think the color of the light matters?” Tim asks, pointing again to the lamp.

You squint. You hadn’t noticed it at first but yeah, the color of the lights was different.

“Maybe,” you tilt your head, “or maybe the people from before were just idiots.”

“You just have a bad opinion of them, don’t you?”

“Like you don’t.” You shoot back, tapping your bat against your boot.

Tim rolls his eyes and shrugs.

You try to smile at that but something’s wrong. Your skin bristling, the air is stale despite the wind. You watch the lantern sway back and forth, the thin wires holding it up, fragile and precarious. A bad feeling crawls up your spine.

There’s a pressure in the air, the atmosphere turning into a vacuum.

Basil hisses, looking as vicious as he can.

The wind stops.

The skittering voices rise like the fluttering of locust wings.

A writhing mass, pulsing and menacing, blots out the horizon. It opens its maw to wheeze and the stench of rot floods the air. Your insides curdle and wilt from the intensity of the putrid odor. Once the *thing* draws another breath, the skittering begins again and this time you know where it’s from.

You can see it in the way its neck twists and undulates, its rotting flesh rippling as the fragmented voices rasp out of its throat. Its limbs, deformed, move unnaturally as it ambles towards you.

You stare at it. Your limbs unmoving. That thing *is* an unidentifiable. In all technicality, it fits the neat taxonomy laid out by experts. It is neither man nor beast. Its form corrupted beyond recognition. It’s rotting and shambling. But the thing you are looking at cannot simply be sorted neatly because it is what it is.  

A creature that god himself did not touch.

An abomination.

You splay a hand on Tim’s chest, pushing him back lightly.  Glancing at each other, you nod as you slowly step back into an alley. You quietly curse Gotham’s gloomy weather for the thing’s appearance. You thought you would have at least ‘til sundown to look for loot before having to flee to a safer sector. But when in Gotham, nothing is ever certain even the rising of the sun.

All you have to do is be quiet. Easy enough. Being silent is the first thing you learn to be in this world.

It blinks at you.

It. Blinks. At. *You.*

Your heart stops, the blood running in your veins turning into lead.

Dozens of eyes blink at you. They’re not all human from the looks of them. It opens its maw again, your muscles bunch up in anticipation of its miasmal breath. The discordant voices coming from its mouth coalesce into a horrible sob.

Tim grabs your wrist and pivots towards an alley. The sudden change in movement shocks your body awake. You scoop Basil up and bolt down the alley, letting Tim lead the way.

Desperately, You try to concentrate on the scuff of your shoes against pavement instead of the creak of limbs and the plop of flesh as it drips off the creature. The pinching of Tim’s features tells you he’s doing the same.

You round the corner, shoulder hitting brick, narrowly avoiding dozens of hands reaching for you. Basil yowls and hisses and you would apologize but your shoulder is screaming at you and goddammit Basil, we have bigger issues.  

You and Tim squeeze into a space between the buildings seemingly too small for that thing’s gelatinous form. You make the mistake of looking back only to see its limbs skitter up the building and down the other end of the alley. It smiles at you, rows of teeth glittering in the sparse light.

This was it.

This is where your life ends.

Where else is there to go?

You expect the acceptance to come in like a flood or relief. Life was hard with very little room for breath. Scraping by, tooth and nail, knuckles bleeding for every scrap of stability. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. You suddenly feel so tired like the adrenaline had been keeping you together for the past few years. Acceptance should have come easy.

But it doesn’t.

You open your eyes to glance at Tim, finally resignation sets. His features are still pinched and his hand is trembling beside yours. You really did screw this one up big time, huh?

You bite your cheek.

Watching Tim’s mind work, you know you have to keep him alive. You squeeze Tim's hand. He narrows his eyes at you. You give him a crooked smile and let his hand fall.

You pivot, foot pushing against the pavement as you launch yourself to the other end of the alley.

If your estimates are correct, you can buy him 15 minutes. 15 minutes would be more than enough for him to make it back to the bike--

Tim yanks on your hood, throwing open a door. The creature howls as Tim hurls both of you into the building.

"What the heck was that?!" Tim screams.

"A Dick." You answer, rubbing your head. fuck. Tim could throw.

"No! You were being fucking stupid."

You scowl at him in the dark. "Thanks Tim. I get it."

"No, you don't!"

"Can we argue--"

The door rattles and shakes. A fist-shaped dent embeds itself on the metal door. You glance at each other before scrambling towards the very safe-looking stairs.

You fly up the steps like hell was on your heels and as far as you're concerned, it was. You wrench Tim's bag from him and you're half tempted to throw him over your shoulder as well but you're not sure the stare case can hold that much weight.

If you climb to the roof--  If you... climb... It can climb. Fuck.

You and Tim seem to come to the same conclusion as you throw yourselves into another door.

You shove a sofa in front of the door and sit on it.

"Please tell me you've miraculously come up with a plan." You hiss glancing over to Tim who's staring at the window.

He glances over his shoulder to look at you. "If I could pull off miracles, you wouldn't be so dumb."

You sigh. Ok, yeah. He has every right to be mad. It was an incredibly stupid move but it's a numbers game and yeah.

Tim runs his hand through his hair, tugging at the strands. He needs to come up with something. He glances out the window. He walks over and leans out the window.

"We should jump."

"Would you like to elaborate?" You wheeze, still not really letting go of a

"Follow me."

"Tim, I have never trusted you less in my life." You snort, quietly. But you make your way to the window.  You set Basil down and look at what Tim is pointing to. There's a dumpster filled to the brim with trash. There doesn't seem to be any infected mice in there and the road to the right is a straight shot back to the bike.

You lick your lips.

"So we're on the same page."

"Uh, if that means what I think it means then yes."

Tim lets out a breath as he opens the window as quietly as possible. You listen to the steady beat of limbs thumping against the wood. You hold a collective breath. The window clicks into place with a loud snikt.

The thumping stops.

You practically shove Tim out the window while you stare at the door. It rattles and shakes.  A screech erupts the stairwell as you jump out the window. You land with a thump, sinking beneath the mounds of plastic.

Your heart is hammering and pressing into your throat. Its beat is in sync with the steady thump of the limbs. The wet squelching of rotting flesh scraping against the rusted metal of the dumpster. You want to heave but Tim shoves a hand in your face. You gag silently. Tim's hand smells putrid from the trash.

You hold your breaths until the thumping goes away. You don't dare breathe until Basil settles down.

You fall limp against the trash. Your limbs feel like jelly. You gag. Thinking about jelly right now is probably the worst thing for your health.

Tim nudges you with his foot. You turn your body over as quietly as you can.

You watch him make shapes with his hands. You frown.   You cycle through your memory trying to remember what the gestures mean then let go of Basil when you do.

Basil rises from the trash, padding against the plastic.

When you hear Basil jump down to the pavement, you dig your way out of the trash.

"For the record, I hate your plans." You say, gagging.

"What was yours?" Tim fires back, dusting his hair.

"..."

"Just what I thought."

You're the first to climb out, holding your arms out to him mockingly. He silently threatens to curb stomp your face. You snort and tuck your hands to your side.

Thankfully, you make it to the bike without incident.

Tim tucks his body into the sidecar, occupying himself by comforting Basil. You hand him a bat as you start the bike.

"Just in case."

You kick the bike into gear as you two ride into the sunset.

You breathe a quiet breath, letting your eyes slip shut for a moment. The road is clear for about 14 breaths.  That’s all you want to think about.

At the fourteenth breath, you open your eyes to an open expanse of road, endless and breathtaking. You turn to Tim and laugh. He gives you a sour look. You’ll just buy both of you some canned pineapples later and he’ll maybe forgive you. Basil certainly does as he doesn’t participate in Tim’s sour protest, opting instead to crawl into Tim’s bag.

Then you hear it above the roar of the engine.

The skittering.

Voices like the fluttering of wings.

It screeches, the raspy cry making your skin crawl. You don’t wanna look back. You don’t want to see the unnatural movement of its body as it bounds towards you.

You kick the bike to a higher gear. The engine will hate you but you can’t repair it if you’re dead.

The bike slows down. Tim stands up raising your bat over his head, bringing it down. It does not clang. The sound is squishier and moist. Your stomach rebels. Hazarding a glance behind you, you see the writhing mass holding onto your bike.

“TIM,” you shout.

“I--” Swing “-- AM--” Swing “--A LITTLE--” Swing “--BUSY!” “THERE’S A CAN OF HAIRSPRAY IN MY DUFFLE.”  

Tim ducks down, throwing you the bat. You swing wildly at the creature, summoning up a truly impressive bout of swearing.

Tim sprang up, nearly falling off the sidecar if not for you grabbing his shirt. Tim flicked the lighter, pressing down on the nozzle of the spray, and unleashing fire on the beast. The thing cries, voice shattering as it burns. You watch its flesh burn. Oh, what a pleasure it was to see it burn.

"We are never doing this again!" Tim wheezes.

"Of definitely fucking not." You bark, kicking the bike to a higher gear. The purring of the engine sounds like music to your ears.

"We are definitely doing easy sectors by a bit." You laugh.

When you don’t hear a snarky remark, you glance to your sidecar. Tim is slumped into his seat, breathing hard. You raise your brow but turn your attention to the road.  You shake him. You shake him again and again.

Tim doesn't respond.

You pull your hand away and it’s slick with blood.

______________________________________________________________

Thanks for reading!!!!

Tag list:  @batarella​, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @bungunz​ , @birdy-bat-writes​,  @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders , @l-inkage, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay, @wunderstell   @hyp-oh-critical @glorified-red @ marshmallow12435 @vvipgot7be​ @jadedhillon​ @notsostraightweeb​

[kindofwriter]

Hey there! My group of friends have been hardcore considering turning a passion project of ours into a real podcast, and I was wondering if you had any advice for newbies putting together a show. We’re a small, young team, but we have a lot of passion for our concept and some writing/sound experience under our belts. Do you have any tips regarding finding actors, the process of plotting, sensitivity readers, or anything else you’ve had experience with in your projects? Thanks for reading!

Ok, finally ready with this! Thank you so much for the question, I will try to share my ~wisdom~ in the following post, but feel free to ask any further questions!

How to start a podcast: 1. when you’re new and/or 2. when you have money!

1. It’s easier than you think! My first advice is to just go for it! Even if it doesn’t quite go as planned you’ll have fun, and it’ll give you great experience for whatever you want to work on next!

Casting:

I’m going to assume this is an unpaid project (hence the former part of this advice being for free podcasting!) but if that’s not the case please skip to section two!

When I can’t offer any form of payment for a project I like to use friends as a cast. Not because my friends deserve any less payment! But because I can pay them in free chips and credentials for their portfolios, and it makes me feel slightly less bad!

Ways to go about deciding which friends to cast: I was lucky enough to do a lot of theatre work in my first year of uni, so I already knew a lot of people who were interested in both acting and production work. You’ll probably come across several actors who think voice acting is beneath them, but who wants to be friends with those people? What I’m trying to say is: if you have friends who are interested in theatre they’ll probably be interested in this! Especially given the past year.

I also poached people from my DnD group, because I could already gauge their acting specialities from that, and I knew what kinds of things they were interested in based on which DnD campaigns they enjoyed best.

If you know anyone who is interested in public speaking, whatever you all those reading awards where you read aloud dramatically, or something like radio and TV presenting then they’ll probably also be interested and do a great job! The great thing about podcasts is that all you really need is someone with a good voice - they’re free to do whatever they like with the rest of their face as long as they’re reading the lines!

You can, of course, also put out a casting call. It’s very important that you make it clear that it would be unpaid work. Even if you plan to set up a kofi, patreon, or kickstarter (info in the money section!), if you don’t have the money to begin with you shouldn’t promise it to people.

There are up and downsides to both. Casting people you know means you’re more likely to be comfortable working with them, there’s less pressure to offer payment, and your cast are more likely to have free time specifically for this project. However, you won’t have the draw of casting known industry voices, and (like I found!) your cast may not have any social media engagement whatsoever!

If you put out a casting call you’re more likely to get a pool of diverse voices, it will likely be people invested (even if not plugged in) to the industry, and you can request that they have their own equipment! However, you then have to work with people you don’t know, a level of professionalism that isn’t usually present on first time projects may be expected, and unpaid casting calls are not wildly well received.

Personally, for your first show, I’d try to use as many friends, or even friends-of-friends as possible. That being said, if you want advice on putting together an audition pack let me know!

Plotting:

It depends on what kind of show you’re aiming to write, but in general plotting a podcast is kind of like plotting a TV show. First of all you should plot out what’s going to happen in a season. Then plot out what’s going to happen in each episode. Ideally each episode will have its own arc, but things don’t always work out like that.

I like to plan things out in a fair amount of detail beforehand (this is especially helpful if you’re writing collaboratively.) Start with what’s going to happen in each episode. Once I know that, I then like to write how it starts and finishes, then the content in bullet points. If you ever can’t think of anything then don’t worry! A lot of things really come together when you’re actually writing.

The most important thing is to not worry at all about the first draft. Just get it down, editing is much easier and more fun once you have something to work with!

There are definitely much more qualified people than me out there giving advice about writing and plotting though; even if it’s directed at prose and script writers it’s still more than applicable!

Sensitivity readers:

If you have the option of sensitivity readers they’re always a great idea! But asking someone to read your work (usually for free) is both time consuming and potentially risky if you don’t know and trust them.

Tumblr, the writeblr community specifically, is a good place to find a sensitivity reader. A lot of people want the practise and are willing to do it for free if you put a call out.

One of the best ways to get feedback on your work is to cast/find people who are appropriate for the roles and then ask for feedback. Obviously they don’t have to, but you’ll find that usually they want to. You can aid in this by giving them some way to give feedback anonymously - maybe a google form - as no matter how chill and friendly you are as the prod team you will always be seen as In Charge.

If you don’t feel right asking someone, especially from a marginalised group, to read and comment on your work for free, you can always just ask general questions in forums or on social media. This isn’t as reliable, as people can lie online, but if you find the right communities and explain you just want to portray characters as accurately as possible there will always be people willing to offer some help. Reddit, for all its flaws, builds great communities, though remember to check the rules to make sure people outside of whatever group they’re aiming to support are allowed to post.

Of course, the first step to writing anything outside of your own experience is a tonne of research. The sensitivity reader should be picking up on small things, not telling you the basics of their experiences. And everyone’s experiences are different, which makes this even tougher! You can get things so spot on for a handful of people whilst inadvertently offending others. Be prepared to be adaptable and take on criticism, but also remember that you don’t have to bend to everyone’s whim; one person saying ‘but this wasn’t my experience!!’ doesn’t mean you’ve done a bad job.

Equipment:

I know you didn’t ask, but this was what I found scariest when I was Brand New.

If you have the money and you’re very serious about this I haven’t encountered a single person who wouldn’t recommend a Blue Yeti mic. However when you’re just starting out, and especially if you’re not planning to have all of your cast together record together/separately but with the same mic, blowing over $100 on a mic is huge, scary, and not always feasible.

I have three small desk mics that I loan out to my cast when needed. They cost ~£30 ($40) from (ew, I know) Amazon. You don’t need a mic for each cast member - you don’t even need a mic for the max number of character speaking in a scene at once. You could probably do it all with one mic, but the time that would take and the affect it would have on scenes may be worth the extra cost! These obviously don’t produce the crisp quality a professional recording mic would, but they have a pop filter and a windscreen and seem to do a good job at reducing background static.

Further noise reduction: Mr Alexander Jalexander Newall, when starting his podcast empire half a decade ago, got it in one: blanket forts.

If you can build a little fabric den for your cast to record in: perfect! If not, tell them just to stick a duvet over their head. This increases the risk of moving duvet sounds, but reduces everything else! And if they shift under the blanket you can always ask them to get comfortable then read the lines again.

And, info courtesy of the McElroys: you can also record in a wardrobe or a room with plenty of bookshelves if you don’t want to build the world’s most bangin’ blanket fort.

The most important advice you will ever receive:

Don’t be scared to ask for help! Join Facebook groups and ask questions! Join discord servers! Message people on Twitter and ask for advice (certain ppl are much more amenable to this than others, but this is pretty clear from their Vibe)! Heck, you can message me on Twitter (or here. Or send another anon. And if I don’t know the answer I’ll ask someone who does!) Everyone just wants to help everyone else, and if they don’t they’re probably not the kind of people you want to associate with. Good luck! And let me know once you socials are up, so I can follow and get excited!

Now, onto 2. Money stuff!

A lot of the info stays the same, but money kind of raises the stakes. Once money’s involved, especially once money and people you don’t know so well are involved, suddenly you have to operate like a business.

Casting:

If you’re planning to pay actors proper wages from the get-go you probably want to put out a casting call. Paid work will attract professionals, and professionals will not only do a great job, but will also help you gain an audience (and have their own equipment!)

You get to decide what the hourly rate is, but usually, depending on where you’re from, there is an average hourly rate voice actors get paid, and if you’re nowhere close to that people will be put off.

You should also make clear what the hourly rate includes: whether it is just recorded audio hours, or includes table reads and directorial time. A lot of people just have every actor record their lines separately, sometimes without direction, then edit them all together. This certainly saves on cost, and makes for a quick turnaround, but it’s no fun, and sometimes makes the show kind of soulless.

Kickstarters:

You can run a kickstarter on an unpaid project, in the hopes of eventually paying the cast and maybe funding future seasons. But I’m going to assume this is advice for ‘I can pay the cast, but what is a kickstarter for?’

Well, that’s up to you! It can be for equipment, for better editing, for podcast music, for podcast art, for a pay rise for the team, for bonus content. Depending on how many stretch goals you have, it can be for all of these things!

In short: backers give money, and get things in return, for example $5 might get you a pin badge, while $100 might get you a signed poster. When the kickstarter reaches a certain goal, maybe $5,000, then the team may then have enough money to produce a holiday special, for example. At $10,000 everyone on the team may get a 10% pay rise.

This is a great way to get people invested in the show, and a great way to make money! But if you want a really great kickstarter you’ll probably want to hire someone with experience in this area.

Contracts:

Money means contracts! Usually two will suffice, they just need edited for each individual team member:

An NDA, to prevent people from discussing the show in any inappropriate situations.

And a literal workplace contract.

You’ll be able to search how to draft these online, but it’s useful to have the help of a lawyer. There are people who do this specifically for podcasts who’ll be able to help you out, but again: you have to pay them!

Equipment:

As I said, actors will probably have their own equipment, but if you want them all recording together: you can rent a studio! They’ll already have all the equipment for you, which is The Dream!

Or you can convert a room into your own studio! Get some soundproof panelling on the walls and invest in a good mixer. I’m afraid I don’t have much advice on this, as I cannot afford anything close to a good mixer! But there are plenty of articles online with helpful information.

I wouldn’t recommend making a paid podcast as your first project, as it’s a lot of pressure, and would almost definitely mean bringing new people onto even the production side of things. There’s always the option to work on another project first, something smaller-scale, to work out any roadblocks you may run into during the paid show. But I’m not telling anyone what to do: if you’re ready, go for it!

Anyway, this was very long and quite rambly, and is probably filled with things you don't actually need to know! But I hope at least some of it was useful! Please feel free to ask any other questions - now or in future, PM or anon - and again: best of luck! I'm so excited for you!

[sol-luminosus]

Same verse as that of ‘Creep’. Happening first chronologically before they ended up on the hallway. Only that this is a Hananene version.

A look into Amane’s own point of view of love.

Title: Lego House

Fandom: Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun

Pairing: Hananene

Genre: Romance/Angst

Rating: T

Chapters: 1 (One-shot)

Summary: And out of all these things I’ve done, I will love you better now.

Yugi Amane was captivated.

It coiled and coiled and turned in the very expanse of his chest, gripping his heart so hard and so intently that he was positive his chest would burst into a thousand pieces at any given minute.

 Nene was gazing at him questioningly, tilting her head of glittering silver locks so a few strands would cascade and slightly obscure her face as it waterfalled and framed the edge of her cheek.

He’d resisted the urge to tuck the stray pieces at the back of her ear.

Just by a moment’s brave surge of will to control himself.

Amane simply answered her concerned expression and previous barrage of questions about his well-being with a gentle smile, hoping that his beguiling expression would be enough to ease the worries in her mind.

He could tell however, that his strained effort had failed, given by the way her brows had furrowed further in a mixture of what seemed to be annoyance and worry from having something clearly hidden from her.

Indeed, the eyes were windows to the soul.

His in that very moment, must have been filled with desperation and longing. Perhaps at least surely, only those two emotions had leaked out.

She couldn’t have seen it, he was positive.

He’d never let her see it.

The clear and vulnerable emotion of love he’d tried so hard to will down and forever entomb in the very depths of his heart. It screamed so deafeningly, almost numbing his senses at times and making him forget of the actuality of things.

That he was dead and Nene wasn’t.

That his future was long gone with his wishes to remain rooted to where he is now as the only thing he should cling to,

That he had let go of his dreams to fly to the moon a long time ago.

A few decades which oddly, seemed to span for as long as an entire lifetime.

That at the very least, he knew he had the power to alter Nene’s fate.

So that he won’t drag her to the same empty abyss that he had long accepted to be irrevocably submerged in until the day he’d received his judgement.

This journey to redemption was and his alone. It will and would have nothing to do with her.

For a moment, he was sure his heart had swayed. When she’d regarded him with those iron-willed gems for eyes expressing her desire to live her life the way she wanted with a lifespan that could barely be a fistful, Amane just couldn’t seem to peel his eyes away from her. She’d called out to him—reached out with those two hands clasped together as if in a fervent prayer.

The same position as she had back when she’d first summoned him in the bathroom stall.

And all the while, although it was her own wish that should have nothing to do with him, she’d undauntedly declared that she would no matter what, journey to the moon together with him.

He knew he’d seen them before. On that very night however, they’ve shone and glimmered much more blindingly than they’ve ever before. The stars in her eyes had enthralled and bewitched him so that at that moment, he was certain he’d forgotten about anything else for a split second.

That he wasn’t the infamous Honorable No. 7 called Hanako-san.

That he was simply a child burdened with a sacrifice far too heavy for him to carry than what his small shoulders could have handled.

That he was just Yugi Amane, a socially awkward teenager who was in pieces and had eyes which reflected an unsettling amount of wisdom for his age.

And she was just Yashiro Nene, a girl with her head up in the clouds in search for dreams of true love and a promising long life ahead.

But he’d only forgotten for a split second.

How he’d wished, that he could’ve told her with all the honesty and transparency that his resigned heart could offer, that he was content enough with seeing the entire universe in the depths of those two luminous, ruby eyes.

Those very eyes he’d come to love ever since he was just at the tender age of nine all those years ago in that festival.

“Hanako-kun, what’s with you today? You keep spacing out for no reason and there’s clearly something wrong. I’m not going to stop prying unless you tell me—“

The sudden boisterous noise of the bathroom door swinging open and slamming on the wooden wall had both of them jumping out from their positions.

“Oi, Hanako! This is bad. Nii-san is out on a rampage right now because the mokke are running wild in the student council office. He’s talking about ‘exterminating all spirits’. What if he goes after you during his crazy fit?”

The golden specks in Amane’s eyes had turned dark with mischief, hovering over to the loud intruder in the name of Kou with a teasing expression and fingers touching his lips in a bid of mockery.

“Oh, what’s this? You’re suddenly so worried about me? Could it be? Are you in love with me?”

The blonde haired boy had reddened a dusty shade of pink from both shock and embarrassment, before the bellow of his voice had come booming in a strong effort of denial. “I am not, you crazy apparition! Maybe my brother’s already tried smacking you before I came here that’s why there’s suddenly something wrong with your head. In the first place the one I love is sen—“

His sentence had been cut off none too curtly, with an audible slap of skin ringing through the four corners of the room from having a palm slammed flatly over Kou’s mouth, effectively silencing him down. The leader of the School Wonders could barely show any sense of sympathy for the exorcist’s angered protests from the evident pain of having his teeth graze and split the skin of his lips.

“Oh, look at the time. Shouldn’t we hurry over to this mokke massacre you were talking about?” Amane had animatedly declared, glancing over to the wrist of his free arm where a nonexistent watch was strapped.

Kou had struggled to wheel away the hand clasped so tightly over his face. If he’d had the sense to be as livid as his brother would be in situations like these, then he’d be absolutely convinced that Amane had actually tried to suffocate him just to get him to stop talking, with the sheer amount of pressure he’d used reminding him far too irksomely of wood glue.

“What are you saying? We haven’t been here for long. In the first place we should hurry up and think of a strategy firs—“

For the second time on that afternoon, Kou had found himself being stopped midway of his musings, only having to have realized then that Nene had been in the bathroom all along. His eyes had grown wide with startlement, before having the familiar creep of a blush climb its way back up to his face with the difference in shade ten times as strong compared to the previous flush of color he’d donned just minutes earlier.

His dimwitted self which entirely lacks self awareness had almost confessed to her indirectly and in the middle of a bathroom of all places. Nene had only stared at him with an exasperated expression, a combination of what was obviously that of displeasure from the two of them bickering nonsensically and the urgency of the situation which they were very, very clearly stalling at that moment.

“Oh, yeah. You’re right! Let’s get going already.” Kou had laughed nervously to himself, the embarrassment hiking further up in his throat with his voice clearly about two octaves higher than normal before speeding up and out first out of the bathroom.

“What the heck was that about? Is there something wrong with my face?”

“Other than still looking human and not resembling a radish yet, I think you’re perfectly fine.”

Nene had turned to him with a brief look of irritation, before harshly spearing him on the head with the sharp ends of her hair pins.

“Hmph, stupid Hanako-kun acting all weird and suddenly calling me a radish, again.” She’d grumbled in frustration under her breath, with an injured Amane cradling his head in his palm and having his complaints about Yashiro’s ruthlessness ignored to be whisked away by the wind.

In the midst of his half-heartedly hurt reverie, his thoughts had peddled back to Kou’s would-have-been confession, noting how easy it was for him for the words to flow and cascade from his mouth.

And he was certain that had he been not there and the setting at the very least, had been somewhere that wasn’t as peculiar and off-putting as a bathroom, then the blonde boy would have not hesitated. He could picture him perfectly in his head, the words which Amane had kept from spilling running freely with his heart completely exposed and in its rawest for her to have as her own if Nene would willingly accept.

The very thought of her responding and reciprocating his feelings had caused an unutterable amount of fear to brew in Amane’s chest.

For he who was nothing more but a sham that could merely falsify and imitate what little of his memories could correctly recall as ‘life’, Kou was the living, breathing counterpart to his lies—someone who actually had the ability within his reach to promise her happiness.

He knew, and frankly, he didn’t really need to be reminded.

It was never a competition from the beginning.

And Amane was neither a willing contender.

His eyes in the shade of a precious mineral had darted on her back, watching with a somber fondness as the slope of her slight shoulders further sagged from her dipped mood exclusively caused by him just minutes prior.

Amane’s stare had narrowed in a sentiment of strangled affection, one that he was absolutely terrified for anyone or anything to ever decrypt from him.

“Maybe just for a little while. If it means I can keep you, I can stay in love with you for a little while longer.” The words had gone out and died in a whisper, coherent but with every syllable surely indistinct enough for anyone other than himself to understand.

She’d whirled her head around in query, certain that she’d heard him speak but not quite catching his words as she’d been lost in her own embittered sighs and grievances over the grating spectral being.

Amane had simply smiled at her, that same tenderly lonely smile he’d given her earlier that day when they were in the bathroom.

And Nene had only felt the same sting of emotion she’d felt back then as well; puncturing and aching yet beckoning her to him at the same time.

Creep: (Same verse/Tsukanene version)

[otterlydeerlightful]

Happy Secret Friend Day!

Hey, @lazybetch! I hope you like your present...I wasn’t sure what might be the best route to go, but I hope you enjoy :3

---------------------------------------

She was looking around, her shining black hair whipping from one side to the other as her silvery eyes scanned the surrounding crowds bustling up and down the hallway. Stephanie kept her nose buried in her notebook that she was holding a little too tightly with trembling fingers. Her eyes darted repeatedly toward her puzzled peer from behind the worn pages covered in multi-colored scribbles.

With no lead as to where the note now resting in her hands had come from, the newest student at LazyTown High unfolded the pastel-colored paper and let her eyes scan over its contents. Stephanie momentarily forgot how to breath as she waited impatiently for the girl’s reaction. The dark-haired beauty’s delicate eyebrows pulled together and then, to Stephanie’s horror, the girl quickly refolded the note, loudly shut the metal door to her locker, and shuffled off in the opposite direction. Stephanie let out a heavy sigh, slapping her notebook against her lap in defeat.

“Stupid!” the girl complained aloud to herself. “What’d you expect to happen?”

“I dunno, what did you expect?” a nonchalant voice asked from behind her, eliciting a shriek of surprise from the girl.

Stephanie jumped up and spun around, paying no notice to the school supplies that scattered around her feet. Trixie bit into her apple and raised an eyebrow at her best friend’s reaction. The pair stared at one another as she chewed. The silence was broken only after Trixie swallowed.

“You okay, Pinky?”

That seemed to jog Stephanie’s train of thought. The girl shook her head and frowned. Stomping her foot and curling her fingers into still-nonthreatening fists, Stephanie snapped “Don’t sneak up on me, Trixie!”

Her friend shrugged, though the nervous look in her eyes already betrayed her concern. “Not my fault you didn’t notice I was there. Last I checked, walking over to your friend during lunch isn’t exactly sneaking.”

Stephanie sighed. She hung her head enough to realize she was still standing in the middle of a sea of school supplies and soon stooped to begin gathering them up. “Sorry,” she mumbled as she worked. “I shouldn’t have yelled.”

“You didn’t,” Trixie replied around another bit of fruit.

The dark-haired girl lodged the apple between her teeth and hopped over the short wall to help her friend pick up her things. Once everything was back in its proper place, Trixie bit off her next chunk of fruit and took a seat by her still-silent friend.

“So what’s got you so upset?”

Stephanie gave a half-hearted shrug and hugged her bright pink backpack to her chest. She was quiet for a few moments as she organized her thoughts, then spoke. “Remember at the party two weeks ago?”

Trixie nodded. “Yeah,” she said, speaking slowly. “You seemed pretty off but didn’t want to talk about it. I was kinda worried, actually, but I didn’t know if I should’ve pushed, you know?” She looked over at her friend worriedly. “Should I have…?”

Stephanie shook her head and tried to offer Trixie a reassuring smile. “No, it’s okay. I’m…glad you didn’t.” She took in a steadying breath and let her eyes glance around to make sure they were out of earshot of the other students in the courtyard. “It was just…it was the games everyone wanted to play.”

The other girl made a face. “What do you mean? ‘Snot like it was any different than most of the other parties.”

“Yeah, but…everyone wanted to play truth or dare.”

“So? It’s never that bad; we play that one a lot and you always had fun before. What made that time so different?”

Stephanie chewed on her lower lip. True, it was mostly just all of her regular friends and classmates…but the new girl had been at that party, too. “Everybody was asking about…who everyone liked.”

The seconds-long pause in their conversation lasted hours.

“So I’m guessing you’ve finally got a crush on someone?” Trixie asked in an uncharacteristically quiet voice.

Stephanie nodded. “I…I don’t want anyone to find out. I’m scared they’ll laugh at me.”

“If they do then they suck, Pinky.” The girl poked her friend lightly and offered a supportive smile. “You didn’t laugh at me when I told you I had a crush on Stingy, did ya?”

“No. But—”

“But nothin’! You remember what you told me?”

The young teen sighed and hugged her bookbag tighter to her chest. She avoided Trixie’s gaze as best as she could; Stephanie knew what was coming.

“You told me to tell him, dummy. I was a mess and you said—and I quote—‘If you tell him you like him and he asks you out, then everything will be fine. If you tell him you like him and he doesn’t feel the same way, then at least you’ll know and you won’t have to be so scared about it anymore.’”

A small, pathetic squeak of protest emerged from the first girl’s throat. Trixie just wrapped an arm around her friend’s shoulder.

“Come on, Pinky. Any guy would be lucky as heck to have you as their girlfriend!”

“That’s the problem,” she whined, burying her nose in the zipper of her bag. “It…it’s not a guy.”

There was barely a pause before Stephanie felt her best friend shrug against her.

“Any girl, then! You’re the coolest person I know, Stephanie. You should talk to them. The worst they can say is no, right? If I can do it, you can do it.”

“But what if she doesn’t like me? I mean…what if she doesn’t even like girls? A lot of people don’t like…gay stuff, even in LazyTown. What if she doesn’t even want to be friends with me after that?”

A new, soft voice joined the conversation then. “Then she would miss out on having a really nice person as a friend.”

With a startled gasp, Stephanie’s head snapped up. Her wide eyes locked upon the newest student at the school: Ella Rotten. A familiar pale pink piece of paper was held delicately between her long fingers. The sight of the raven-haired girl made Stephanie’s heart simultaneously beat like a terrified jackrabbit and somehow still plummet into the depths of her stomach.

“See?” Trixie asked her friend with an obliviously encouraging smile. “Even New Girl agrees with me!”

Ella gave a sheepish smile before her eyes fell. Stephanie watched as she rubbed her porcelain-toned fingers back and forth over the colorful letter. The dark-haired teen nodded, her motion jerking yet subtle in its movement. Stephanie doubted that she would have even noticed the gesture if her eyes hadn’t been glued to her face.

“You’re always…really nice,” Ella offered. “You were the first person to say hi to me in dance class.” She wet her lips and swallowed before she continued to speak. “And, um…you have really pretty handwriting.”

Despite having no trouble doing so for a decade and a half, Stephanie found that she couldn’t remember how to breath. She watched as Ella glanced down at the piece of paper in her hands and, with careful and deliberate movement, began to unfold it. Trixie, tipped off by either the hue of the paper that had become the focal point of everyone’s attention or simply noticing the tension between the rest of the group, released her friend from her grasp and gave an exaggerated yawn and accompanying stretch of her arms.

“Yeah, well, uh…I’m gonna go get some milk before the lunch ladies close up shop. I’ll, uh…catch you later, Pinky. We can catch up on stuff.”

With that, Stephanie’s friend got to her feet and made a hasty retreat back toward the cafeteria line. Stephanie, meanwhile, was frozen in place while she mentally screamed for Trixie to come back. She was too scared to be alone right now.

“I…I thought it might be a mean prank,” the quiet girl uttered as she stared at Stephanie’s pink and white sneakers. “I didn’t want it to be you, but…I thought maybe someone found out.”

The phrasing helped Stephanie focus. “Found out?” she questioned with a confused frown.

It took the teen an embarrassingly long amount of time to realize what the other girl might mean. When she did, Stephanie’s eyes went wide with shocked wonder. She blinked, then blinked again, and stared up at Ella and her beautifully flushed cheeks.

“You don’t…I mean…” Stephanie wanted to say it. She wanted to ask if the girl who had so captured her attention felt the same way she did, but the fear of being wrong robbed her throat of any further words.

The raven-haired young woman shifted nervously. “Can I…can I sit with you? For the rest of lunch, I mean?”

Stephanie immediately pushed her backpack aside, the speed of which brought a slight giggle to her new guest’s lips. Ella sat down beside her and Stephanie couldn’t help but smile. Her crush fiddled lightly with the pastel pink note now resting in her lap.

“Do you…do you want to maybe…get some ice cream after school or something?” the new girl asked quietly.

Stephanie smiled brightly. “Yeah. I’d…I’d really like that.”

The two girls sat together on the edge of the half-wall for the rest of lunch, chatting quietly, both of them feeling lighter than air.

[myasssaysno]

THE BATMAN! Swinging through rooftops. In some unnamed city, while two gown (you know their goons because one of them is awkwardly holding a gun) watch. for some reason. 

This is Detective Comics (1939) with an emphasis on 1939 (despite it being in brackets) The very first Batman story ever published and I'm going to review it because current comics make me want to die.

WARNING: It's a really long post, so only read if you have time and patience to waste.

Okay first lets talk about that front cover, that rope he's swinging on is simply wrapped around one of his arms. In other words, he's lost that arm or at least damaged it quiet badly (don't try this at home kiddos)

Next, he's carrying a man with him, in a head-lock. So, that man's probably dead (again, don't try at home)

And finally, did the sky need to be yellow? The rooftops blue? Or the buildings red and purple? DO ANY OF THESE COLORS MAKE SENSE?

Anyway, quick explanation. Detective Comics don't function like most modern comics, it doesn't resolve around one single superhero and their fight against evil. Instead, it introduces multiple in the same issue. 

Also, the caps lock is permanently on, to make everything exciting! (Pro tip: use exclamation marks for EVERYTHING!)

The Bat-Man doesn't appear until the 27th issue (according to Wikipedia) which is where we'll be starting, other superheroes be damned. 

This is the first introduction of the character of Batman at all. 

And it goes like this:

“The Bat-Man, a mysterious and adventurous figure, fighting for righteousness and apprehending the wrong doer, in his lone battle against the evil forces of society. His identity remains unknown. "

Okay, so immediately drawn to the 'his identity remains unknown' for two reasons. One, everyone knows who Bat-Man is but I get it at this point no-one would know which sounds ridiculous but then it goes on to tell you who Bat-Man is. Like by the end of this one story.

You would think they'd drag it out a little longer, but old comics don't play around like that. 

Next thing to note, Bat-Man really did start out as a moody loner which is both disgusting and impressive. On account of a lot of character's becoming unrecognizable to their past interpretations, especially spanning decades. 

Now the story is called:

"The case of the Chemical Syndicate."

It starts in Commissioner Gordon's house, who has some of the most colourful furniture. We are talking bright fireman red arm chair, and a sky blue arm chair. Like old comics just went crazy with colours. 

Also, Bruce Wayne used to smoke a pipe (back in the day when everyone smoked) while Gordon prefers what looks like a cigar. Old comics aren't the easiest to tell what's going on half the time. 

Anyway, Gordon is entertaining the young socialite Bruce Wayne. 

(Side note: At the moment Commissioner Gordon doesn't even have a first name which is deeply disrespectful to the man). 

Bruce is playing up the bored rich boy act, head in hand and wishing for death. While Gordon's puzzling over the Bat-Man (which again is extremely disrespectful to my man, Commissioner Gordon who knows better)

Then the phone rings! Dun Dun Duuuun!

We only hear Gordon's side of the story, which explains that a man named Lambert, known as the Chemical King has been stabbed and his son's finger prints are on the knife. 

Okay, first mistake deary. That crime literally just happened, Gordon turns up to the scene is a few panels over and the body hasn't been moved, the crime scene hasn't been analysed and the son's sat waiting for the Commissioner. 

This isn't a case closed, better let the Commissioner know. This is a, their a case that needs the Commissioner phone call. How the hell did they know whose prints are on the knife, how did they know anything about the knife if they're waiting for the Commissioner to analyse the scene. 

But jumping back to the phone call, Bruce Wayne's still in the room. Within hearing distance which is bad but then Gordon asks if he'd liked to come along. 

Commissioner Gordon invites Bruce Wayne to a crime scene. If the people who first read this, didn't immediately work out who Bat-Man is, they're stupid. Plain and simple. 

Anyway, they speed over (because they have to) in a little red car that's looks exactly like Bat-Man's car. (But we don't know that yet)

Arriving at the scene, Gordon examines the scene but doesn't really have anything to say about it. For summary, it's a dead man in a dressing gown who got stabbed in the back (because where else would you get stabbed) and died on his library floor. 

If you haven't worked it out yet, this man is rich. Big mansion, named after him. He's known as Old Lambert, and he's the Chemical King. Which I researched a little into, and it really was early days for chemical corporations in America (and other places) so I'm guessing they wanted to show that's he's some big-shot of a chemical corporation or something?

Either way, Gordon's right on to the good part. Accusing the son of murder, who immediately panics and goes on the defence. Which by todays standards makes him seem guilty as hell. 

As it turns out, he came home early (don't sons just always do that, when their father's getting murdered) heard a noise from the library, found his father with a knife in his back and removed it. 

So technically, he did murder his father. 

The boys story also contains a part where he got the impression someone had jumped out of an open window (not sure what that means) and that the safe was open, and his father's dying words as he held him in his arms were contract. 

God damn it, just once think about your son Old Lambert, but no once again business comes first. 

Gordon then proves himself a good detective and asks the lad about any enemies. Which the boy replies with, no but yeah and lists three names who all become relevant to this story, almost like the boy knew all along. (Kidding)

The first former businessman is Steven Crane, and guess who just phoned the Lambert residency. Steve Crane (maybe it's his brother) who informs the commissioner that Lambert had received a death threat before he'd died, and that he has also received a death threat. 

Gordon tells him to stay put, don't let anyone in. At this point Bruce Wayne taps out and then we're in Crane's library. And oh no, he's just been shot. 

Why give the death threat, did these businessmen just immediately go sit in their libraries and stare at their safe's when threatened?

Crane's murderer steals something from the safe and immediately runs to a nearby rooftop to meet up with Lambert's murderer. 

Okay, mistake number one. If there's two of you, and you're both going to murder a businessman, strike at the same time. Don't wait for the police to turn up to one crime and don't threaten the second victim so he has time to warn the police. 

Next mistake, don't meet on a rooftop, that draws attention. Meet inside a car, or a back alley or at least a few streets away, not down the street from victim two's house.

Finally, don't carry paper around in your hands when your going to meet on a rooftop. Like nothing happens to that paper, but I'm telling you that's the biggest lie of this comic, that paper should be gone.

Instead, they get their ass kicked by Bat-Man who sends one of the criminals flying through space. (The comics words not mine) like Bat-Man just yeets one over his shoulder without looking. 

Anyway, the police turn up, Gordon shouts about catching Bat-Man who is able to disappear into the night with his piece of paper (unrealistic) and then Gordon gives up on finding Bat-Man and goes to Crane's house. 

That's right, one panel of Gordon shouting at Bat-Man and then he's outside Crane's house, speaking with the man's butler who explains Crane's dead. And it's terrible. Heck, Gordon doesn't even check just takes the butler's word for it. 

Gordon then comes to the conclusion that if two out of four businessmen, who Lambert's son mentioned got death threats before dying, the other two businessmen must also have gotten death threats. 

Once again, the are just mention as former businessmen, not even if they knew each other or were part of the same business. Gordon's going out on a limb here. 

Doesn't matter anyway, because he's investigation ends here. 

Bat-Man on the other hand is sat in Bruce Wayne's car, grime smile as he looks at a piece of paper. And then he speeds forward onto an unknown destination. (Um, what?)

Next we jump to the former businessman number two, Paul Rogers whose heard of Lambert's death on the news. Rushing over to the last businessman the son name dropped Alfred Stryker. 

Rogers is met by Mr Jennings, the assistant of Stryker at the door to the neighbouring lab, who lets Rogers in. Only to sock him in the back of the head. Ouch!

He's then tied up, taken to the basement and placed under a glass cylinder. Mr Jennings explains its a gas chamber he's used on guinea pigs (why always guinea pigs)

Anyway, Bat-Man jumps in through the skylight and picks up a wrench. Jumping into the cylinder with Rogers, plugs up the gas jet with a handkerchief before breaking the glass. 

I want to call bullshit, but like it could work. Maybe. I don't know.

Jennings pulls a pistol on Bat-Man. Idiot. He's thrown over Bat-Man's shoulders for his troubles and sat on (that's right) by Bat-Man who then punches him in the face a good few times. 

Stryker finally arrives. Tries to kill Rogers with what looks like a butter knife, Bat-Man immediately twists the knife of out his hands, before grabbing him by the front of his clothes. 

Now comes the part where Bat-Man explains what's going on. Okay, so basically, Stryker didn't have ready cash to buy the company (Apex Chemical Corporation) off the other three. So, he set up secret contracts saying he'll pay them off in set amount, but instead had them killed. 

Not much of a chemical syndicate (which is an organized crime)

Anyway, then Bat-Man kicks the man into a tank of acid (did I forget to mention the tank of acid) for hiring people to kill of some businessmen. I mean what about the people who actual kill them. 

Whatever, Jason's proud Bruce. 

Bat-Man leaves with a quick “a fitting end for his kind” before pulling the disappearing act on Rogers, the only surviving businessman who can't prove Bat-Man was ever there and has to explain the disappearance of Stryker. 

Anyway, Bruce joins the Commissioner again at his house and hears all about the Bat-Man. Not sure what Gordon actual knows about that but Bruce pretends to be uninterested and Gordon thinks Bruce has a boring life and he's disinterested in everything. 

Then, we see Bruce return home and disappear into a room, only for Bat-Man to step out. OH NO! BAT-MAN KILLED BRUCE WAYNE.

Quick summary, four former businessmen. One gets stabbed in the back and for a hot second it looks like his son is the murderer. Businessman two get shot in the front. Both have contracts stolen from their safe. The murderer's meet on the rooftop and are beaten up by Bat-Man.

Businessman three goes to businessman four whose assistant tries to kill him. Saved by Bat-Man. Businessman four is kicked into a tank of acid for his trouble and businessman three goes down for the crime. Maybe, he can't prove Bat-Man murdered businessman four. 

Bat-Man says keep calm and yeet criminals into space (and the one's who hire them into tanks of acid)

[bltngames]

SAGE 2020: The Usual Suspects

Hi, folks! Back when I used to work at TSSZ a lot of people really enjoyed reading my articles where I’d talk about various games at the Sonic Amateur Games Expo (SAGE), and I’ve gotten more requests in the last month and a half to continue doing those types of articles than I think I’ve ever gotten about anything else I’ve ever done before. So, here we are!

But I also need to be real with you: there are a lot of games at SAGE. It was exhausting enough when there were 70, 80, or even 90 games. Heck, the one year I wrote about 85-something games by myself, I sort of felt like I was going to die. This year, there are over 220 games at SAGE. It is physically and emotionally impossible for me to talk about everything, and it may even be impossible for me to play everything. Things will fall through the cracks. Most things, probably. Though I am responsible for basically inventing SAGE 20 years ago, I am also a human. I have my limits, and I am sorry it has to be this way.

Structurally, we’re going to be doing things a little bit differently, and you should expect this to be a little fast and loose. Since I’m not talking about every single game on the show floor, articles are going to be broken up into types:

“Usual Suspects” will be for games that either appeared at previous SAGEs or that I’m at least aware of.

“Fan Games” should be obvious, and it’s whatever doesn’t fall under Usual Suspects.

“Indies” is the same deal, but for original games.

And finally, there will be a “Honorable Mentions” article for whatever random leftovers I don’t cover in the first three articles. Looking forward to me talking about your game, but I don’t mention it? Tell me about it and maybe it’ll end up here.

Without any more delay, let’s talk about those Usual Suspects...

Sonic GT

Sonic GT has always been kind of a difficult game to control, but usually it just took a little bit of getting used to. There was always a period of adjustment, where you had to learn the game’s quirks. But, over time, I feel like the game is also just getting… quirkier. Every time I come back to this, I slam head first into the Sonic GT’s learning curve, and it always feels just a little bit steeper. This is one of those games that tries to fit a lot of abilities into a tiny amount of buttons. It works, but it feels like you have to memorize an operator’s manual. It’s all about figuring out which button to hold when to get what state. But, man… when it clicks into place, it’s still kind of magic. And, at the very least, the levels have all been reworked to take better advantage of Sonic’s high-flying, death-defying acrobatics. You’ve just got to be willing to learn. The real downside of this new version is the inclusion of a proper story mode -- I don’t have anything against having cutscenes in your game or whatever, but for the purposes of reviewing these games, some ability to fast forward through the talking heads so I could get back to the gameplay would’ve been nice. You can skip ahead in cutscenes you’ve already watched, but that doesn’t help when it’s your first time through. Oh well. So it goes. (Update: in the process of getting this article posted, Sonic GT has been patched to make cutscenes always skippable.)

Project SXU (Sonic X-treme Unity)

Another year, another Sonic X-treme recreation. This one’s interesting because it seems to be the most “complete” yet, offering the four most famous levels: Jade Gully, Crystal Frost, Red Sands and Death Egg. Intentionally or unintentionally, this also seems to replicate quite a few quirks we’ve seen in Sonic X-treme’s controls in the videos that have been released of the in-development build. Which means that it, uh, kind of sucks to play. I realize that’s kind of rude, but I’m sort of allowed to say that. 15 years ago, I was basically the only person on the internet that cared what happened to Sonic X-treme, so... I started contacting developers, starting with the game's producer, Mike Wallis. He lead us to Chris Senn, and that broke the dam on information about this game. Now, I don’t claim ownership over everything that came out of this, I’m simply saying I was the one who got the ball rolling. I watched the mystery of Sonic X-treme slowly get uncovered with as much intent as one could possibly have. It is a fascinating piece of lost media, but as a game… well, I think it got canceled for a reason. SXU shows us a clear vision of that, with a game that’s disorienting to look at and hard to control. Heck, if you’re using a controller, you can’t even use the analog stick -- you have to use a d-pad, leading to controls that feel frustratingly twitchy. But that's true to the experience. I probably spent almost as long in this demo accidentally slipping into bottomless pits as I did exploring its levels. Again, this more or less feels accurate to what we’ve seen in videos, though I do think Sonic probably feels a little too sensitive, here. Regardless, it’s still absolutely fascinating.

“Sonic Infinity Engine” Games

I’m cheating a little bit, here. This is technically three entries, but it’s in “Usual Suspects” because there’s been Infinity Engine games at SAGE for a few years now. Listen, it’s my site, my rules, and we’re playing fast and loose, baby!

Adventure Pack 2

This claims to be a “pack” of multiple levels, but the one level I played went on for over 25 minutes without showing any signs of ending. The level is… well, it’s the kind of stuff we’ve seen at SAGE for years and years and years, a space previously occupied by SonicGDK and BlitzSonic before it, where somebody is clearly starting out learning 3D level design, has some prefab assets, and goes to town creating a huge, intricate environment… that doesn’t fit a Sonic game at all. Too many tight spaces, too much enemy spam, and too much labyrinthine pacing. This is “Sonic Visits Anor Londo,” and while it looks interesting visually, it’s easy to get lost, or worse, killed because something isn’t functioning right. Like a lot of Infinity Engine stuff, it’s a bit hit or miss.... And now, also cramped.

Infinity+ Colorful Combat

The primary goal of this seems to be to update the Infinity Engine with extra features, something that I think is pretty welcome. The Infinity Engine is okay, but it’s missing a little bit of polish that the original developer neglected to give it before abandoning the project. This helps tighten some of that stuff up, while also introducing Wisp powers and more playable characters. Some of the new characters could still use some work, yet, but given the project is still in active development, that’s pretty much a guarantee. This could end up being the defacto version of the Sonic Infinity Engine.

Sonic Reforge: Red Ridge (Blockout)

This is what’s called a “Grey Box.” Rather than build out a fully-detailed level, you get a rough estimate on how the stage will flow before you put all the graphics in. What’s here is okay, I guess, but the level loops back on itself in ways that can be kind of confusing. There are a few places where it’s not really clear where you’re supposed to go next, and I spent several minutes running in circles. I’m also not a huge fan of the changes to Infinity’s physics; jumping off of ramps is a key part of the Sonic experience, but there are several places here where that doesn’t work -- to get the height needed to progress, you just need to roll really fast. It works, but it doesn’t feel like the Sonic I’m familiar with.

Sonic World DX

I have a bit of history with this game. Or, well, with a different version of this game. I wasn’t kind to some of the original entries at SAGE many years ago, but over time, they’ve cleaned the game up and streamlined it a fair amount. Now we have the “DX” release, a further cleanup effort splintered off from the main project, but to be honest, I’m not entirely sure what’s different from the previous release. The main version of Sonic World supports an absolutely gargantuan amount of content, with 50 playable characters and at least that many levels. It was big, and weird, and impressive. This demo ships with three or four playable characters and eight stages. Beyond that, there’s not much else to say -- it’s still Sonic World, though this release doesn’t work right with my controller. It picks up the controller binds from the main version of Sonic World, correctly assuming I’m using a DualShock 4, but none of the buttons are correct. When it asks me to press the X button, I have to press Circle for it to properly register. Not only that, but the right stick camera control is completely broken. Switching to an Xbox controller fixes the camera issues, but now the face buttons have the opposite problem: when it asks me to press A to jump, I have to press X. Throws my whole vibe off, like wearing your shoes on the wrong feet. The menus are bizarre, too -- while adjusting the volume, you can’t push left or right to adjust the levels, you have to use controller face buttons for some reason. This whole thing feels like I stepped back in time to 2013 in a bad way.

Sonic Freedom

I feel like I’ve been waiting to see a major development from Sonic Freedom for half a decade at this point. The art considerations for this game are no joke, and I do not envy anyone trying to make a proper high-def 2D Sonic game that looks this good. But, well… it’s another year, and there’s not a lot here. It plays fine, I guess -- the controls are decent, at least. The problem is the level design. Does this level even end? I’m not sure. I know previous demos for Sonic Freedom have had more than one level, but the stage you start out in here is a confusing, empty labyrinth with respawning enemies and a finite number of rings. You climb up and up and up, but eventually I reached what felt like a dead end. Visually it will always look incredible, but I’m wondering if it’ll ever actually become a game at any point in the future.

BraSonic 20XX

Here’s a strange blast from the past I wasn’t expecting. BraSonic is an old fangame from probably more than a decade and a half ago. It was so long ago that I can’t even actually remember if I played the old version of the game or not, but I definitely remember the name. What really throws me for a loop playing the 20XX version now is how much it feels like a game from back in the early 2000’s. The artwork, the sound effects, the locations, all of it makes me feel like I’m 19 again. Thankfully, this doesn’t play like a fangame from 2004; physics seem pretty solid, level design flows pretty well, and it generally seems to be fun, weird, and most importantly, unique. There aren’t many fan games here at SAGE that open with their first boss fight being against Sonic the Hedgehog. If you find yourself getting burnt out from so many Sonic fan games feeling same-y, this could be a good change of pace.

Sonic Frenzy Adventure

Maybe it’s the fact that this is the 20th Anniversary of the Sonic Amateur Games Expo, but here’s another very old fangame coming back out of the woodwork for an enhanced modern re-release. This game was a mainstay of the mid-to-late 2000’s SAGE events, after which it disappeared before being finished. Well, maybe it was finished. Again, a lot of this stuff was so, so, so long ago that this poor old man’s memory just can’t recall it. Seeing Frenzy Adventure back warms my heart, though. It’s an old friend in what has proven to be a very challenging year. Admittedly, parts of it still feel a bit mid-2000’s, but I consider those charming quirks. Throwbacks to a simpler era. At the very least, controls have been improved, so it does play better than the old releases did. Good stuff. Glad to see you again, dude.

Sonic Speed Course

This was a game that turned up last year, but in the kerfuffle I didn’t get around to trying it, even though I really wanted to. This is clearly a game inspired by Kirby’s Dream Course, but instead of Nintendo’s pink puffball, we have Sonic and friends. Whereas Kirby gained abilities by bowling through enemies, this adapts a more traditional Sonic gameplay structure of item boxes filled with shields and other powerups. But here’s my deep dark secret: even though I love Kirby’s Dream Course in concept, there’s a part of me that feels an intense hatred for that game. I have distinct memories of renting Kirby’s Dream Course as a kid and getting really far into the game, but trying to play it as an adult I’m baffled at how difficult it is. The main problem I have is that every stroke you take subtracts from your health, meaning you can only hit the ball so many times before you just… die. This makes for a very, very steep learning curve that discourages play and experimentation. Every shot truly, deeply matters and eventually I find myself caught in a death spiral and staring at the game over screen. All of this is replicated in Sonic’s Speed Course, which, much like with Kirby, I find myself drawn to like a moth to the flame -- only to come away feeling dejected and like I’m just not good enough. For fans of Kirby’s Dream Course, this is undoubtedly good news, as this means Sonic Speed Course is faithful to the tone of that game. But I find myself wishing there was a practice mode or something that let me play these courses without the punitive health system, because I’m ready to love them.

Sonic: Triple Trouble 16-Bit

When you write about so many games at SAGE every year, things start to blur together... a lot. I seem to recall that Triple Trouble 16-Bit last year was good, but had room for improvement. Well, this year, this demo feels… really quite good. I’ll admit, I was a little skeptical about remaking this game. Sonic: Triple Trouble was among the first batch of Game Gear games I ever owned as a kid, and while I liked the game, in my adulthood, I feel like I’ve come to appreciate Sonic Chaos more. But so much has been added to this game that it’s really come into its own. It uses Triple Trouble more as a jumping off point to become something fresh and interesting, and on top of that, this demo is pretty polished. This game was kind of always on my radar, but it’s really turning into something special.

Battle Cross Fever

Every year, I download this game hoping for some kind of single player offering, and every year I’m let down. Battle Cross Fever is a fighting game that plays a lot like Smash Bros., but contains elements that pull it closer to traditional fighting games like Street Fighter. It’s the kind of game that can check with the server to make sure you’re playing the latest version, but doesn’t have true online multiplayer -- instead advertising that you should use a piece of screen sharing software like Parsec to accomplish online multiplayer. In their defense, the few times I’ve used Parsec, it’s basically been magic for how well it works. But I just want, like… anything that I can play by myself. Even if it’s just a super basic arcade mode with brain dead AI, anything is better than nothing. But, I suppose, I am an outlier. Judging by the horrific character select music I landed on, Battle Cross Fever has enough of a community that they could get fans to sing along to “Ghost Town” from Sonic Forces -- which is a fun idea, don’t get me wrong, but when you have loud voices over cheap microphones, well… I hope you aren’t wearing headphones like I was. Anyway, this game’s always seemed solid, but I’ve also never played it with another human being, so really, I’m speaking from the perspective of admiring the diverse roster and all of the fun arenas they’ve ported in. Maybe someday it’ll get some single player content.

I’ll be back with another article… uh, eventually. In truth, I was only going to feature five games here, but it ended up being ten, so we’ll see how many are in future articles when we get there!

[chroniclackofselfpreservation]

Creatures of the Night

Chapter 17 - the work of the world is common as mud

Back to the Beginning   < Previous chapter / Next chapter >   

AO3

Masterlist

(TW: panic attack, mild violence)

(The title of the chapter comes from "To be of use" by Margie Piercy.)

Patton stood motionless in one of the many janitorial closets at Baker’s Retired Living Community, chewing on his bottom lip absently. He didn’t mean to be slacking off, but his life had just become irrevocably strange, and he was still trying to digest it all. Giant talking snakes, amulets that could bring back the dead, witches, familiars, magic. Heck, Roman had died last night. Not to mention he finally had a label for the specific kind of freak he was. Sibyl. It didn’t sound too bad. In fact, it almost had a nice ring to it.

The closet door opened, and Dot jumped in surprise. “Oh! Patton, what are you doing in here?”

Patton whirled, mouth ticking up into his usual smile. “Nothing. Just looking for… ah! There it is,” he said, grabbing a random bottle of cleaner off the shelf.

“I can clean up whatever mess it is, kiddo,” Dot said with a smile, taking the bottle from him. “Your shift was over half an hour ago. Why don’t you head home?”

Patton swallowed. Why was he so nervous? Just because he had a name for his secret didn’t make it any different from all the years he’d hidden it from her up until now. Yeah, but now it’s also Virgil’s secret. And Roman’s secret. And Logan’s secret, he thought.

Dot’s expression softened. “Honey, are you doing okay? You haven’t been yourself the past couple of days.”

“Oh, yeah. I’m totally fine, Mom,” he laughed, exiting the closet. Dot closed the door behind him, unimpressed.

“Patton Timothy Baker, how many times have I told you not to lie to me?” she said, hand on her hip. Her words sent unsavory memories rippling through him. He lied all the time. She only caught him when he secretly wanted her to. Merri had taught him better than to be caught in a lie.

Patton put on a serious face and placed both hands on his mother’s shoulders, meeting her eyes. “Mom, I swear I’m doing just fine.”

“Okay,” she relented. “Oh! I made some cookies the other day. I want you to take some to the rest of the boys, okay?”

“Alright,” Patton said with a smile that looked easy and pecked her on the cheek. It wasn’t hard to lie to her, and he hated himself for it. With the others, they’d only been living together for a few years, and they each picked up on different things, making it harder to slip things by them. Patton had been lying to Dot for just short of a decade, now. But it made her happy to see him happy, so he put on a smile and told her he was fine.

                                                * * * * * * * * * *

Patton walked home, despite all of his mother’s protests. Roman had dropped him off, since Logan had taken their shared car to work. Patton would usually have called Roman to come get him, but he was needing some time to think things through without people wondering why he was being so quiet.

Wakeby’s nightlife was just kicking into gear, though it wasn’t anything to call home about. Most of the people out at night were high schoolers hanging out with friends at the arcades, or old couples dancing on the outdoor patio of the one Italian restaurant in town. It was peaceful, but most of all it was quiet.

Patton thought about a lot of things. What would he dream of tonight? How were Roman and Virgil doing? Had Roman officially forgiven him for what he’d done? What was Logan going to do once the school year started? If they were still figuring out this thing with Roman and that witch, Patton doubted Logan would miss it for anything. But what toll would quitting his dream job take?

Oily, tangy smells wafted out of the single Chinese restaurant Wakeby had to offer. Patton looked up. It was packed with a bunch of theatre kids celebrating some performance they’d done, their enthusiastic re-singing of one of the songs leaking through the door. Patton smiled. He remembered when Roman had been one of those kids. Smiling and laughing and singing at the top of his lungs no matter who was watching.

A crash sounded from the alley a few steps ahead of him, and Patton grew still. His brain kicked into a steady calculation of risk, even though he knew it was probably just a raccoon. Some habits were harder to kick than others.

Low muttering and cursing reached Patton’s ears as he continued down the sidewalk, appearing as if he hadn’t noticed. So it wasn’t an animal. Definitely a person. Maybe a worker had knocked over a…

Patton stopped. He’d only been looking out of the corner of his eye, but upon seeing the small frame digging through the trash, his heart clenched and he’d stopped. It looked like a child. Patton ground his teeth, desperate to keep his mind in the present and away from the alleys and dumpsters of his youth.

“Hello?” he called softly, not wanting to spook the child. “I’m not going to hurt you. Do you need help?”

The small figure straightened, its back to him, wiping grime off its clothes. “I don’t think I’ll be needing your help, Sunshine. Move along.”

Patton made an involuntary noise of surprise and took a step back.

“What’s wrong, sibyl? Never seen a hobgoblin before?” the creature sneered—that’s exactly what it was. A creature. Not human by any means. Short, like a child, but with olive green skin turned muddy from trash and grime. Pupilless black eyes, a mouth lined with yellow fangs, and two floppy ears—almost like a dog. Hobgoblin. Patton’s mind reeled.

“How do you know I’m a sibyl?” he asked dumbly, still trying to figure out what he was supposed to do.

The hobgoblin laughed. “Are you serious? You’re practically glowing with it,” he gestured to all of Patton. His nose crinkled. “Geez, you smell like an oracle, too. What’d you do, roll around in a sacred temple or something? Ooh, whatcha got there?” he said, bounding toward Patton and pointing at the seran-wrapped plate of cookies he was taking home.

“Cookies,” Patton said, and several thoughts went through his mind at once. Whatever this creature was, it was obviously magical, so Virgil must know something about it. If not, he was sure Dorian could help them. Virgil had recently had his talisman stolen from him. There weren't too many magical creatures wandering the streets of Wakeby at the moment. How much was he willing to bet that this random goblin was the one who did it?

“Give ‘em to me,” the hobgoblin said, as if he expected Patton to light a candle and set him a fancy table as well.

In a matter of seconds, Patton sank back into his old, street-hardened self, finding both comforting familiarity and a darkness he hadn’t indulged in for a long time. He held the plate a bit higher, out of the goblin’s reach. He cocked an eyebrow and stepped into the shadow of the alley. “Why would I give them to you? They’re mine.”

The hobgoblin scowled. “But I want them!”

Patton lifted the seran-wrap and took a long inhale. He had to make sure that the creature wanted them more than anything before making his move. “They all smell so good. I don’t know if I can share.”

“Forget sharing,” the goblin growled, reaching to his belt. “How about you give me the food, and I don’t stomp around in your innards like a puddle?” The creature took out a nasty-looking knife with a serrated edge. Patton sized him up without showing it on his face. He’d been a tall child, and remembered having to fight other feral children for scraps of food. Naturally, he was comfortable fighting people significantly shorter than he was.

“Whoa! Alright!” Patton said, his eyebrows shooting up. “Don’t hurt me, I’m just setting them down.” He slowly lowered into a crouch. Patton didn’t like being on eye-level with that knife, but Wakeby was a clean town and there weren’t too many loose planks of wood or pipe just laying around for him to use. Using the plate to hide his free hand, he closed his fist around several small pebbles. He would have liked loose dirt better, to get in the goblin’s eyes, but again... clean town. Patton also didn’t like how close the hobgoblin was. He wouldn’t have time for a proper wind up to his throw.

Before the creature could so much as take a step toward the plate, Patton flicked his wrist as hard as he could, pelting the hobgoblin’s face with the pebbles.

“Ack! What the—” he cried his hands flying up to shield his face. One of the pebbles had been sharp, and cut a thin line across the creature’s cheek. Black liquid oozed out.

Patton wasted no time. In reacting, the goblin had shifted focus from his knife hand to his face, giving Patton just the opening he needed to seize his wrist and stand up straight, pulling the hobgoblin up off the ground.

“Hey!” he protested, kicking wildly. “Let me go, you stupid son of a pixie! What do you think you’re doing?” Patton squeezed his wrist. Not enough to break it, but enough to get his attention and keep him from trying anything funny.

“Now, that wasn’t a very nice thing to say,” he tutted, shaking the goblin a little.

“Okay! I’ll drop the—”

“Oh, no you don’t,” Patton said, prying the knife from the goblin’s hand himself. He’d been stabbed too many times when children with broken teeth and sharp nails agreed to “drop the knife” only to catch it with their other hand and stick him in the stomach. He was just lucky that Merri’s aunt never questioned where all of her first-aid kits disappeared off to whenever she replaced them. It was what had gotten him good at sewing stitches in the first place—better than Merri, though she’d never admitted it.

The knife was weighty, and far nicer than any weapon he’d used before. Most of his knives had been rusted blades with duct tape for handles.

Fully aware that he was turning his attention away from his enemy, Patton glanced behind himself briefly. This was really not a good position for someone to walk in on him. He’d hate to have to explain to some old couple why he was accosting a small green man behind a Chinese restaurant. Patton felt his arm dip as the goblin’s weight shifted. The creature’s legs wrapped around his arm, leveraging on either side of his elbow. Patton turned back around in a flash and pressed the knife-tip under the hobgoblin’s chin. The flesh was soft, and Patton could tell that he was dangerously close to breaking skin.

“I would appreciate it if you didn’t break my arm,” Patton said as the goblin grew deathly still.

“I’ll let go if you do,” he growled.

Patton smiled. “How about you let go, and I don’t run this knife through your skull, hm? Sound like a fair trade?”

The creature grumbled, but released his legs from around Patton's arm. "Alright, now put me down!"

"What's your name?" Patton asked instead, keeping his grip on the goblin's wrist firm.

He glowered at Patton. "Remus."

"Good," Patton said, lowering him to the ground but retaining his hold. "Now, a friend of mine lost something very important not too long ago. You wouldn't happen to know what happened to a magical talisman in the past couple days, would you?"

"Up yours, freakshow. I ain't talking," he spat. If Patton hadn't been in the state of mind he was currently in, he would have reacted to being called freakshow. Now, he just bit it inside of his cheek, narrowed his eyes, and squeezed. Remus's eyes went wide.

Snap.

The gobin let out a yelp of pain, baring his sharp yellow teeth in a grimace. Something nagged at the back of Patton's mind. What are you doing? Are you seriously going to torture this creature? Patton set his jaw. Now was not the time for being soft and sensitive. You're doing this for Virgil, he told himself. Besides, you've done much worse than a broken wrist. This is nothing.

"What kind of crazy sibyl are you?" Remus gasped.

"The kind that doesn't like having his friends messed with," he replied, loosening his grip ever so slightly. "Give me the talisman."

"I don't have it."

"I'll break your arm next."

"I don't have it with me! But I can get it!" Remus said quickly, sweat beading on his pea-green forehead. "I'll get it for you, I swear!"

Patton hummed. "You know, I don't think I believe you. Where is it?"

Remus paled. "The trees lining that big black road just outside of town."

The highway? It was plausible that the goblin had been squatting out there, out of reach of random townsfolk. It was also quite possible that he was sending him on some fruitless goose-chase just to escape. "Alright. Take me there."

He released Remus's wrist, keeping a firm grip on his new knife. The hobgoblin cradled his arm against his chest, whispering curses against humans.

"Fine," Remus snapped as he guided Patton deeper into the shadows. "Just keep that knife to yourself."

"No promises," Patton said, and felt his chest seize. The words had slipped out without him even thinking. How could he say something like that? He thought of what any one of his roommates would think if they saw him like this. Patton was reminded all at once why he'd decided to hide who he'd been for half of his life. He was scary.

                                                * * * * * * * * * *

An hour later...

"Hey, has anyone seen Patton?" Roman asked, padding across the kitchen in his bare feet.

Logan looked up from the book he was reading at the counter. "I haven't seen him. Wasn't he at work?"

Roman grabbed his phone, checking the time. "His shift ended a while ago, but he didn't text me to come pick him up. Do you think everything's okay?"

Virgil glanced over nervously from his spot on the living room couch, but said nothing. Logan placed his bookmark. "Patton's been known to stay after on occasion. He and his mother often have lengthy conversations, since he no longer lives at home."

"I'm going to text him anyway," Roman muttered, typing out a quick message.

Hey, you didn't ask for a ride home. Everything ok?

He closed his phone and set it on the counter. Roman rested his elbows on the counter and put his chin in one hand. He glanced and saw the amulet sitting dormant on the dining table a few feet away. It was almost like it was laughing at him. Stupid little prince thinks he can outwit the Dragon Witch that easily. He tapped out a quick rhythm with his fingers, then got bored and stood up again, pacing around the kitchen.

Logan cocked an eyebrow. "Something the matter, Roman?"

"It's nine o'clock."

"Indeed. Is there something special about that particular hour of the day?"

Roman brought his fist to his mouth, gnawing on the back of his thumb. "It isn't day. It's night. Almost midnight. I should... I mean, I'd usually be in bed by now, trying to get enough sleep."

"The curse is broken, Roman."

"I know it is."

"Then why—"

"I don't know!" Roman shouted, a painful laugh bubbling out of him. "I don't know how any of this works, but somehow I know it won't, and I swear if I have to look at that stupid amulet one more time—" Roman seethed, grabbing at his hair.

Logan nearly fell out of his seat, going pale. "What was that?"

"What was what?" Roman spat and Logan jumped again. Why was he so angry all of a sudden? It felt like everything was too close, too bright, and just wrong. He suddenly hated the feeling of the floor against the skin of his feet. He wanted to punch a wall. Something.  

"His core's showing," Virgil said, standing up. Logan took a few steps back. Even that infuriated Roman. Why was he backing away? Why didn't he back away farther? Why was the carpet the wrong color? Why, why, why? Roman couldn’t breathe. He was gasping for air but he couldn’t breathe. He was dying again. He was dying again!

“Roman?” Virgil said slowly, taking a few steps forward. Roman backed himself up against the fridge. He slid down to a seat and hid his face in his knees. Everything was wrong. He was wrong. Everything about him was wrong, and he couldn’t figure out why. The curse is broken. He told himself that over and over, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered.

The lights went out. Roman hiccupped and opened his eyes, but it was only Virgil’s jacket draped over him. The air became warm and pleasant. It smelled of pine and dirt roads. Of Virgil.

He felt Virgil sit next to him, their shoulders pressing together. Roman leaned into the comfort, losing himself in the warmth, the smells, the closeness of his friend. He curled against Virgil, resting his head against his chest. He could hear Virgil’s heartbeat through his shirt.

Alive, he thought, visibly relaxing. Alive…

He felt Logan lower to a seat next to him and reached out from under the jacket to grab for his other friend’s hand. Logan grasped his searching fingers, but Roman circumvented his hand and latched onto his wrist, pressing his fingers just under Logan’s thumb and feeling for his pulse.

Roman could have cried when he finally felt the steady beat beneath the pads of his fingers, pathetic as it may seem. They were both alive—and so was he. He was alive and he would continue to be for many more years.

Virgil pinched the edge of his jacket and lifted it so he could see Roman’s tear-stained face. “Better?”

Roman sniffed. “Yeah.” He pulled the jacket down from over his head, fiddling with the seams. Roman finally understood why Virgil loved this thing so much. “Sorry,” he said, laughing wetly and retracting his hand from Logan’s wrist.  “I freaked out a bit, there.”

“Don’t apologize,” Virgil said, almost harshly. Roman's eyebrows shot up. Virgil seemed to catch himself and his expression softened. He leaned his head back against the fridge and muttered, “You shouldn’t have to apologize for being upset.”

“Virgil’s right,” Logan said, placing a hand on Roman’s knee. “You went through something that very few people can even comprehend. It is understandable that you would be experiencing some stress, even after the incident occured.”

"Thanks, guys," Roman said. His phone vibrated where it sat on the counter and he shot to his feet. "It's Patton."

Virgil stood. "What did he say?"

"Almost home."

"That's it?" Virgil wondered, looking over Roman's shoulder.

Logan stood as well, straightening his shirt. "See? I told you—" he cut off as they all heard the sound of the exterior cellar doors slamming shut outside.

Roman looked at the other two, confused. "What was that?"

"Is someone out back?" Virgil mumbled, walking over to the window.

Without warning, Patton burst in through the door to the backyard. He was breathing heavy, and four thin red lines were gouged into his cheek as if something had scratched his face. "Virgil! Can you trap Remus in the cellar with some magic? I'm pretty sure a broom stuck between the handles won't hold him long."

Virgil paled. "What?"

"I have your talisman," Patton continued, reaching in his pocket and tossing a small object at Virgil. He dashed through the house. "Is the inside cellar door locked?"

"Patton, what is going on?" Roman demanded, chasing after him.

"Come on, Virgil! We need some magic barriers up around the cellar now, unless you want him escaping!" Patton shouted, testing the lock on the door leading to the basement. Roman jumped as something on the opposite side of the door rammed against it, scratching the wood wildly and growling in some unintelligible language.

Patton had a wild look in his eye, still breathing hard. He touched his cheek. "He's a nasty one, I'll give him that."

"Patton? What are you talking about? Who's Remus?" Roman asked. Patton blinked, as if he were seeing him for the first time, and a look of pure dread passed over him. He opened his mouth to say something, but Virgil pushed between them, something clutched in his fist.

"I need rosemary and something to write with. Chalk, a marker, something."

Logan was at their sides instantly, holding out a black permanent marker. Virgil snatched it from him, pulled the cap off with his teeth, and began scrawling across the wood floor. "Roman! Grab some rosemary," he ordered and despite his confusion, Roman complied. He dashed off to the pantry, frantically searching for the herb.

"Patton! Where's the rosemary?!"

"Um... third cabinet left of the sink!" he called back.

"These are bowls and plates!" Roman shouted desperately. How come Patton was simultaneously the only one who knew where anything was in the kitchen and had absolutely no clue where a single thing could be found? The basement door shuddered as something threw its entire weight against it. Roman heard the splintering of wood.

"Right of the sink! I meant right!"

"Hurry, guys!" Virgil barked. Roman nearly slipped and cracked his head open as he fumbled for the opposite cupboard. He wrenched it open and was met with an absolute mess of small bottles and jars of herbs. Roman didn't care, he just started grabbing plastic containers and throwing them over his shoulder.

"Found it!" he crowed, holding the ground rosemary above his head like a trophy and racing back to the cellar door. Virgil had drawn an intricate circle with various shapes and symbols throughout. Roman tossed him the rosemary and Virgil tore the lid clean off, dumping the entire thing on top of the sigil.

Virgil thrust his hand into the middle of the powder and the markings shone bright violet, washing them all in a purple hue. The air pressure dropped, and Roman's ears popped.

"Actuyê-sa ve mazhije tanah hielch isch tem!"

Virgil's words reverberated around the room, rattling inside Roman's ribcage like a bass drum. The familiar's face was alight with bright violet light, an unabashed grin splitting across his face as he spoke. Roman could practically feel the magic crackling off of him like static.

"Nimó-ah tchi ve üftahri dehl FRICHTA GHI DJEL!"  

Virgil finished the spell and a sound like a thunderclap split the air, and the light exploded, blinding Roman for a split second. When he opened his eyes again, there was a symbol that looked like a mixture of an ampersand and a dollar sign seared into the door. They all stood in silence, staring at it. Virgil was panting, still clutching something in his fist. An absolutely giddy laugh broke out of him, and Roman thought it was the prettiest thing he'd ever heard. Still high on adrenaline, Virgil turned to Patton, grabbed his face, and kissed him right on the mouth.

Logan made a noise of surprise and Roman felt his face grow hot. When Virgil pulled away, Patton looked just as red, if not more so. If Virgil was embarrassed, it was completely overshadowed by his pure joy. He held up the small object. It was a button, black with purple spirals.

"Your talisman?" Logan asked, his voice sounding particularly hoarse.

Virgil nodded, that ear-splitting smile on his face. Roman would have thought he would have been more surprised at Virgil kissing Patton, maybe even jealous, but he couldn't get over that smile. Virgil definitely needed to smile more.

Patton still sat on the ground, fingers at his lips, looking dazed.

"You okay, padre?" Roman asked, walking over to him.

"Wha—? Oh, uh, yeah," he said, flushing even more.

"Are you sure? Those scratches look like they hurt. Maybe Lo should take a look at them."

"They aren't deep enough for stitches," Patton said, almost compulsively. He flinched at his words, looking away.

"What was that?" Logan asked Virgil. "Last time you did magic, you spoke in English."

"Witchtongue," Virgil said, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. "It's harder to use, but makes spells stronger."

Roman helped Patton to his feet, and turned to Virgil. "Sounds like you're in a good mood."

Virgil beamed. "What it sounds like is that we've finally got a fighting chance against Ursula."

[benisasoftboi]

Gushing time.

Rune Factory 4 Special arrived a day early, so my entire day has been consumed in nostalgia. The original Rune Factory 4 was the first video game I ever bought on release day - I remember saving up all my money and making my mum drive me to like three different shops trying to find one that had it. I was already a fan of the franchise - before then, Rune Factory 3 had been my favourite video game, across the board. Aside from a playthrough of the first game last year, I haven’t played a Rune Factory game in a long time, certainly not RF4. But just starting up the game and hearing the music again, it was like it was suddenly seven years ago. Running around Selphia and seeing all the characters again - I love JRPGs, have played a lot of them, and I can think of very few that have characters that have stuck with me this long. And the aesthetics - the best thing about the Rune Factory franchise has always been the aesthetics, the music, the scenic and character design, just the general world. It’s a beautifully whimsical balance of urban and fantasy, and it’s the only JRPG world I think I’ve ever come across that I would genuinely want to live in. Rune Factory may no longer be my favourite game franchise - but I don’t think there has ever been another series that has felt so much like home to me.

Here’s a very long selection of personal highlights from the art book (by which I mean photos of the art followed by my rambling opinions):

Yeah, see, here’s the thing - Rune Factory 1 is not a good game. I could write an entire essay on why it’s bad (I actually started and got pretty damn far before realising no one’s interested in my two thousand word review of a game that came out over a decade ago - the short version is ‘Misty Bloom-fucking-Cave’. Anyone who’s played RF1 knows exactly what I mean). Don’t get me wrong, it has good qualities - excellent boss fights, for one, and also, as with the rest of the franchise, it is aesthetically wonderful. But ultimately, it feels less like playing a video game, and more like playing a proof of concept for a game. Which I guess it kind of was - and I can’t hate it because we wouldn’t have the rest of the series without it.

But it literally ends with a dragon spewing plant breath on a tank to make a turnip grow out of the gun. ‘Profound’, my arse. 

It’s Raguna! The “master sowrdsman!” (that is not a typo on my part that is a direct quote from the ending of Rune Factory 1 this game’s script had so many issues-). And Mist! My favourite of the ‘canon’ love interests!

Best girl! When I was a kid, my favourite love interest in RF1 was Rosetta. As an adult, it is Tabatha. I don’t know what it is about her that I find so likeable (she’s as lacking in personality as any other RF1 character), but... idk, I just like her a lot.

Camus’s big ambition is to leave town like even once. He will never achieve it

Fun fact about Melody is that she’s extremely depressed, a fact that comes up once in an optional side quest and is never addressed again. It’s incredibly dark for an RF game

Fun fact about Lukas is that he sucks (he’s one of those ‘obsessed with talking about how hot all the girls are’ characters, an archetype that thankfully doesn’t show up again in these games). But also, interestingly enough, thanks to one of RF1′s many, many script errors, if you marry Rosetta (the girl Lukas is the most obsessed with), he’s supposed to express disappointment that he lost her to Raguna - but instead, he implies that he’s disappointed to have lost Raguna to her. The translators typoed their way into giving him a sexuality change. Which is honestly kind of amazing.

LOOK AT THIS SLIME THIS IS SUCH A COOL SLIME LITERALLY EVERY OTHER JPRG SLIME GO HOME DRAGON QUEST GET FUCKED (jk I like Dragon Quest a lot and its slimes are cool too). Wish you could see in-game that this is what they’re meant to be like.

I just generally love the monster designs, they’re really charming

Rune Factory 2! The RF game with the most weirdly mundane protagonist name (Kyle. In the main four games of this franchise we’ve got Raguna, Micah, Lest, Frey... and Kyle). The two generations thing was actually very cool, but when they say ‘each chapter captures a different lifestyle’, what they really mean is ‘the first half is a weak Harvest Moon I’m sorry, STORY OF SEASONS game, and the second half is a pretty good Rune Factory game’  

lookit this little fuck

Yue Yue Yue! I love Yue so much, she’s great. She’s kind of like a much chiller version of Anna from Fire Emblem.

It’s really cool that we got to see grown up Cecilia (she was in RF1). I have this silly headcanon that if Kyle doesn’t marry Mana, Nicholas (her friend in 1) comes to visit Cecilia one day in the hazy-post game future, and meets Mana, and they get together. While Yue is my favourite, I do genuinely like Mana a lot, and I just want her to find love, I guess.  

Here’s original Barrett! There’s a reason he was popular enough to make a reappearance (well, aside from the whole grumpy pretty boy thing he’s got going on) - he was a great character in this game. His and Dorothy’s relationship is also definitely the most compelling of the rival romances. Bonus Max, who also has a little shout-out in RF4 (check the diary in what will become Dylas’s bedroom at the start of the game)

Ray is male, but apparently he was originally going to be a female character, as he has an unused portrait in a wedding dress. My friend and I agree that this makes him a Trans Icon

Monster designs remain excellent. Especially the goblins

Skipping over Frontier (and also Oceans later), as I never got to play it growing up due to not having a console, and still haven’t got around to it - might try this summer. Except I do need to point out that these guys should be memes. I don’t know in what way. But they should.  

Rune Factory 3! My first RF game. The transformation thing was very cool, even if it was basically useless outside the main story. My friend and I spent hours mucking about in the WiFi dungeon. I loved the desert settlement and all of the dungeon designs in general, and man, RF3 is just great. I hope it gets a remake one day.

Raven Raven Raven! I LOVE Raven (as do most). Her story with Micah is the first time I can remember getting genuinely invested in a video game romance. I’m so glad she cameos in RF4. I love her. She’s wonderful.

I have an odd fondness for Marian. When I was about twelve, I decided to do a playthrough where I deliberately romanced the least popular bachelorette. After poking around on forums, I determined that character to be Marian, and did a run with her. And... I actually came to really like her. I find her endearing. I get that people find her annoying and don’t like her... unethical medical practices, but doing that run has still made me a pretty protective of her. It’s been a long time since I played RF3, so maybe I’d change my mind if I replayed now, but currently, as far as I’m concerned,  Marian’s a good’un.

I think I also used to low key ship her with Collette lol 

Pia’s official art has always been super weird to me because it’s so not what her character is like in-game. She’s a ditzy airhead. This makes her look so serious

RAINBOW! Another character whose art makes them look way more serious than they actually are. Daria is great and would be a meme if this game was more popular. I think she’s also implied to be a relative of Margaret. 

I’ve always been super confused about what Kuruna’s skirt is meant to be. Is it fur? Is it part of her shirt? Is it even a skirt at all?

Check it out, it’s the guy everyone would ship Micah with if this game was more popular

I want Zaid to make a reappearance and interact with Doug. Pretty sure it’s canon that they’re from the same clan? Think it would be very interesting.

RF3 definitely had the coolest farm. Also, still love the desert settlement.

This is from Oceans, so I have no context, but it’s just so cool that I had to share

Rune Factory 4. Culmination of the series is right - when I was playing it for the first time, I remember being blown away by just how much it is a true love letter to the franchise. I have never come across another game series that so consistently grew and improved from entry to entry. RF4 was a perfect ending.

Not that I’m complaining about getting RF5. Quite the opposite.

But if it had been the end (as we all thought it was until about a year ago), well, like I say. Perfect. 

Well. Aside from soda can nipples. Can’t believe they didn’t fix those. Though in some ways, that would have made me sad too

Dolce has such a cool design, in both human and monster form. I’ve always kind of crack-shipped her with Margaret, for no real reason at all

Vishnal! I love Vishnal. Vishnal is pure as heck. Marrying him this time around.

Doug! My choice from last time around. Another character who looks more serious in his official art than he is in-game (well... most of the time)

And then there’s Dylas, who looks much happier here than he does most of the time. Kind of looks like he and Doug swapped bodies, actually. There’s a fanfic prompt for you.

Their ship name is Dyldo. I love them

Leon is nostalgic for me mostly because my friend and I used to get into a lot of arguments about whether or not he’s the hottest character in the game. She maintains that he is, because muscles. I maintain that muscles aren’t actually that attractive. It is a rift that divides us to this day

(He looks oddly... younger in this art though? Weird)

Sechs Empire is such an unfortunate name. Seriously. How rushed was RF1′s localisation team? All those script errors, and then this (the Sechs were the antagonists in the first game, and were only referenced in passing in the rest until RF4 - so it was a bit of a ‘sins of the father’ situation by then).

Seriously, try saying ‘Sechs Emperor’ out loud and tell me you can take this man seriously 

I??? Love??? Them???

I??? LOVE??? THEM???

Still confused as to why Kiel, Xiao Pai, Arthur and Margaret are on the cover now. Don’t get me wrong, I like them, but... Amber, Dylas, Dolce and Leon made way more sense? Even the Archival Cover makes more sense (Vishnal, Clorica, Forte), as those three are all kind of Lest/Frey’s servants (well, Forte for the whole town, but still). Of those first four, all but Arthur basically lift right out of the game with little-to-no impact on the story

NO HAT TABATHA NO HAT TABATHA

I’ve always really loved this Raven picture

And I am thankful for you <3

[panharmonium]

@merlinobsessionist you understand me on a spiritual level

[putting the rest of this under a cut because it just ended up being me grumping at length about fandom trends - which, yes, i am well-aware is a silly endeavour in all cases, but sometimes you just gotta have your little grump regardless, you know, for health reasons. X)  and in this particular case the grumping is probably relevant/entertaining only to myself, and you, and one or two other people here, so, tucking it away to spare everyone’s dash :) ]

the other day i was exploring the mostly abandoned wasteland that is the merlin fandom on livejournal (since that’s my original fandom home and obviously i missed out on being involved in that particular niche of lj when merlin was active, so i was feeling nostalgic and kinda curious as to it had looked like) - i stumbled over a merlin fic-finders comm and looked up my boy william just for kicks, and surprisingly, a couple of the old requests sounded like maybe i WAS involved in the merlin fandom on livejournal back then and i just don’t remember it

i think i wrote this in a past life

this is an eleven year-old comment in a mostly defunct fandom community but i felt it in my BONES

oh, my dear commenter from 8 years ago, i WISH  XD

it made me laugh, and then it made me grumpy, because obviously there were very few suggestions offered in response to these asks - the fics just don’t exist, not in any numbers.

and like, the thing is, i don’t particularly care about the shipping side of things for the most part; i always lean towards gen and that’s mostly been it, for me; that’s always been my MO in every fandom i’ve ever participated in, but - look.  if i have to witness (*checks ao3*) 23,830 (twenty four thousand. twenty four THOUSAND!!!!) instances of merlin getting together with arthur hecking pendragon, over and over and over again, in every AU configuration under the sun, then you had better believe i am ready and willing to plead the case of the only person in the merlin-verse who did not think arthur pendragon deserved merlin’s entire life.  

and of course, there’s nothing inherently wrong with arthur and merlin as an item, obviously (i mean, i can name a few things about it that don’t appeal to me personally, but that is not the same thing as a value judgment) and everybody should have fun with their own ships, always - but for me, personally, there is just...enough of that out there.  i have seen Enough.  it’s hard for me to even determine where the rest of the fandom is, under the ever-present spread of merlin/arthur content; a picture of merlin/arthur should literally be next to the dictionary entry for steamroller.

and of course, i knew it would be like this from the beginning, and i know complaining about the ubiquitousness of a particular ship in fandom is utterly silly, in the end, because it’s not like there’s anything wrong with something being ubiquitous - the whole point of fandom is to make what you love, and if that’s what everybody loves, well, hey, that’s just how it is!  that’s what people should be making - the stuff they love!  that’s what fandom is here for!  i only mutter to myself in the bubble of my own blog because the ubiquitousness makes it almost impossible for me to find what *i* love, because i don’t want to read about arthur/merlin in the first place, no matter who else appears in the fic, and also because my fave minor character, while he gets a pretty good amount of fannish screentime for someone who showed up in one episode, also suffers from the curse known as “virtually everything he features in is actually about merlin and arthur getting it on”

like - by the numbers, when you exclude merlin/arthur from will’s character tag, will retains less than 20% of his fics, some of which are already like...you know, he’s dead, or just mentioned, et cetera.  

and his poor ship tag...he and merlin have 136 fics in their tag, and at first you wanna look at that and be like - ‘hey, not bad, pal, that’s p. good for a rarepair!’  but in actuality, less than 20 of those fics are actually about him and merlin.  like...12% of his own ship tag actually belongs to him, and the rest is him being used as a plot device to get arthur and merlin together.

and i am sure that a lot of other side characters probably suffer from this, too, given the general fic distribution in this fandom, though the only person i’ve looked at for comparison purposes is freya, who is a (mostly) one-ep character like will.  she, despite that, doesn’t appear to get hit quite as hard - she seems to keep more of her fic for herself, which is nice (when i exclude merlin/arthur from the freya/merlin search, freya still retains about 65% of her fics, as opposed to will’s sad little 12%).  i’m glad for her, though - she of all people does not need to be losing fic to arthur; she has suffered enough. 

to put things in perspective, though - merlin and uther have more fics in their ship tag that earnestly focus on the tagged....hnhhmgnhn i can’t say it...relationship than merlin and will do - even filtering out every instance of dubcon/noncon.  

(and yes, i did in fact want to die when i had to actually click the merlin/uther tag on ao3 in order to check that factoid, thanks for asking.)

so, that said - i don’t generally read canon-era fic anyway, when i’m actively writing for a fandom, but since the merlin fandom sometimes feels like it consists solely of modern AU’s anyway, all i am trying to say is that it would be nice if i could pick up an AU including a character i enjoy without seeing him constantly reduced to:

merlin’s loser ex

merlin’s abusive ex (w h at)

merlin’s ex who’s kinda sorta tolerable-ish, maybe, if you squint, but just ultimately Not Right for merlin - holding merlin back, or being too overbearing, or too pushy, or Just Not Enough - or being someone who merlin stays with only bc he’s familiar and merlin’s settling for something safe and unrisky and stagnantly unfulfilling

the dude who merlin cheats on to be with arthur

the dude who cheats on merlin, bc the fic needed a reason to break up merlin and will so that white-knight!arthur could swoop in (cue me shouting ‘IN WHAT UNIVERSE DO YOU THINK WILL WOULD EVER - ’)

the dude merlin “makes mistakes with” when things with arthur aren’t going well

the friend-with-benefits who’s apparently chill with a casual arrangement, thus keeping himself conveniently out of the way of the oncoming merlin/arthur train

the friend-with-benefits who’s secretly NOT chill with a casual arrangement and who’s pining for merlin, except we all know that ain’t ever going anywhere because arthur exists, and in the meantime merlin only ever gets together with will to try and forget his problems

the friend-with-no-benefits who’s still pining for merlin (which situation, i might add, would be read completely differently if it were arthur in will’s shoes, because if that were the case then the audience would 100% be rooting for him)

the “best friend” whose only purpose in fic is to provide space for conversations/debriefs about merlin’s relationship/pre-relationship with arthur (like - i’m sorry, but there desperately needs to be some type of bechdel-esque test for will; e.g. do will and merlin have a conversation about something other than arthur pendragon?  if yes, u win, u may pass go, collect 20 dollars, congratulations)

the friend whose dislike of arthur always, ALWAYS ends up being framed as a mistake.  as will’s stubborn unwillingness to give arthur a chance, until at last will sees the light and succumbs to the irresistible beauty of merlin and arthur’s eternal love. -_-  there is vanishingly rare acknowledgement in fic of the fact that in the canon universe, all of the criticisms will makes about merlin and arthur’s relationship are not only accurate, but made in merlin’s best interests (and also, ultimately, proven right, by the end of the show - merlin tanks his whole damn life for a series of empty promises prophesying arthur pendragon’s future potential, and he gets NOTHING for his devotion.  merlin is more alone at the end of the show than he was at the beginning, when his only dream was to be loved and accepted by more than the two people who’d comprised his entire life up until that point.  and he spends at least half a decade in between the show’s hopeful beginning and its miserable end being told that he’s evil by the very person for whom he is expected to sacrifice his future.  

so what, exactly, makes will so wrong to be wary?  who among us wouldn’t be angry if we saw somebody we loved being forced to sacrifice themselves on an unforgiving altar like this?  

i don’t know the answer.  i’m not sure what it is that earns will his spot on the “destined to be shafted for arthur pendragon” list.  i don’t know if it’s an unconscious backlash to will’s refusal to hop on the arthur/merlin train, or if it’s just a superficial understanding/lack of genuine interest in his character, which, in that case, sure, i’ll give people that one, in all fairness; not everyone has spent a year picking his character apart (though i still don’t think it justifies tossing him in there just because the fic needs a random insert who can be positioned as inferior to arthur’s gloriousness).  either way, the end result is that we usually end up seeing a will who has very little in common with his source material, or who needs to ultimately step aside to make way for arthur - arthur, who never displays the same level of care toward merlin in canon that merlin shows toward him, and who actively oppresses merlin’s people for the entire duration of their relationship.  

like...it’s all just fic, obviously, and we can make characters as OOC as we want; have fun; go wild.  but at the same time, it’s impossible for me not to balk at how arthur in some of this fic is just - utterly unrecognizable.  in comparison with fic!will, arthur is the most Solicitous, Gentle, Understanding, Deeply Concerned, Invested-In-Merlin’s-Welfare-and-Inner-Thoughts creature you ever did see, and I’m just over here like - it is not like that!  it is NOT LIKE THAT!  IT HAS LITERALLY NEVER BEEN LIKE THAT.  arthur pendragon in fic sometimes interacts with merlin like - he tilts his head and listens like a therapist and affirms absolutely everything merlin says and tells him ‘gosh, i understand. tell me more. how can i help you’ - he goes about his day thinking about merlin and putting merlin first and i just - i literally have never seen this person before in my life.  who is this man?  who is this unbelievably attentive paragon of caring?  i’ve never met him before.

the entire running problem with merlin and arthur’s friendship in canon is that arthur, while he absolutely does care about merlin, tends to take merlin for granted.  merlin is just another feature of arthur’s landscape, until something dramatic happens and arthur has a little scare and saves merlin’s life, and then things go back to the way they were.  arthur doesn’t See merlin the way he should, not in the ordinary moments.  merlin goes home and spends his evenings thinking about arthur’s life; he ties himself in knots trying to help arthur develop as a person and to keep arthur safe and happy, but arthur just goes home and eats supper with his wife.  arthur does not go home and spend his nights agonizing over how he can improve merlin’s life.  he never once thinks, ‘my purpose on this earth is to serve and support my friend merlin.’  he never feels like he’s supposed to be half of some two-sided coin.  i know people like to give arthur this quality in their fic - and that’s totally fine, of course, it’s fic, have as much fun as you want - but in canon, that is just not something arthur pendragon does.  it’s not who he is shown to be.  

and yet almost every time when i go to explore fandom, i find that the person who does put merlin first in canon is perpetually elbowed aside for this extremely generous interpretation of everyone’s favorite prince.  

and i just...i always try to find the good bits in everything, and i am sometimes willing to overlook a ship i don’t personally enjoy if there’s something else about the piece that i think is great, but there’s only so many times i can read the sentence “merlin had never felt like this with anyone, not even will” in fics where merlin and will are supposed to have been dating or even married/engaged, or “will was merlin’s best friend, but he just didn’t understand” (not like arthur, of course, who merlin literally just met a week ago), or “will was great, but there was only so much of him merlin could stand in one sitting/will was great, but he was best enjoyed in small doses.”  there’s only so many times i can read a hundred different variations of that before i start to get real grumpy.  and that’s not even touching the fics where will’s portrayed less favorably than that, even.  

so, you know.  i feel grumbly about it sometimes, how this particular character is trapped in a perpetual net of always being less-than, when one of the nicest parts of fandom for me is that every character/ship can have an infinitude of possibilities, even the ones i personally think are unbelievably bizarre (which category merlin and will do not even fall into, like - it’s not an incredible leap.  merlin/mordred is a leap, okay; mordred is like seventeen years old!  leon/morgana is a leap - how on earth did that become so popular??? - but will and merlin?  that’s not a leap.)

what is it about will that makes him so tempting to trample over?  will’s only sin in canon was to look at arthur pendragon and pronounce himself utterly unimpressed.  his only crime was to tell merlin ‘this dude isn’t good for you,’ about which fact he was CORRECT, by the way - he is the first person who ever chooses to care about merlin, the first person merlin ever chooses to trust, the first friend who loves real!merlin without needing to be coaxed and convinced and taught that it’s okay.  he is the only one who ever tells merlin ‘you deserve better than this mess,’ the only one for whom merlin has always been priority number one and in whose eyes arthur isn’t even on the map.  merlin’s friendship with will (and lancelot, afterwards) is the healthiest one merlin ever gets to experience, and i wish more fannish material acknowledged it as such, as opposed to using will to set up merlin and arthur’s epic romance.  

all of this, i suppose, is just a very long way of saying that now that i am no longer avoiding spoilers and have actually started testing the waters of the wider fandom, i have come to the obstinate, utterly inflexible conclusion that will deserves his own collection of happy endings, and i don’t care if i have to write them myself.  i’ve already got the gen angle covered.  and even though i’ve never written ship!fic in my life, the fact of the matter is that spite can be a hell of a motivator, and i will bite the bullet and learn how to do it if i have to.  if people can really be out here tagging their merlin/uther fics as “schmoop” (YES. REALLY.) then by GOD, i swear, there are no excuses - this fandom can accommodate literally anything; there’s no reason it can’t accommodate stories where will wins.  let this kid have his good ending.  arthur pendragon can fall in love with merlin 23,830 times despite his and merlin’s ship flying in the face of canon, and that means will deserves his own tiny handful of stories to be actually about him, without his and merlin’s relationship being used solely as a stepping stone on the way to merlin and arthur’s 23,831st triumph.

i am just saying - if uther pendragon can fall in love with merlin and have it tagged as ‘fluff,’ then for the love of all that is good, we can give will his moment.  let will enjoy the respect he should have earned from us when he died saving both merlin and arthur’s lives.  let will be a person in his own right, instead of a plot device sacrificed to the (in)glorious altar of merthur.  let will have an inner life of his own.  let will have a best friend who doesn’t treat him like an accessory to The Greatest Love Story Ever Told.  let will himself live out The Greatest Love Story Ever Told, for once.  let will get his guy.  i may tend to focus on friendship in my own work, but there are a lot of universes out there, and when it comes to someone who has always been so alone, and so singularly focused on merlin’s wellbeing, i’m not entirely sure if friendship even feels anything different to “in love” for will at all, in at least some of these places.

let will have his happy tags.  he’s been on his own for so much of his life - let him have his simple ‘friendship’, his ‘platonic love,’ his ‘found family.’  let him have his lovestruck ‘pining,’ ‘friends-to-lovers,’ ‘angst with a happy ending,’ too, and let him keep those tags for himself.  let characters who aren’t arthur pendragon have their love stories.

i may not care much for shipping, and i would rather read gen any day of the week, but let me tell you right now, i would rather write will and merlin settling down in a haze of domestic bliss 23,830 times before i would ever want to watch merlin ditch him yet again for a dude who never matched merlin’s level of caring and investment in the canon ‘verse.

[snez]

a strange happening

i'm extremely doinked right now so i'm not going to be particularly eloquent but i just wanted to share with you this several-years-old community classic that you may not be aware of called a strange happening. it is like...... something people have been talking about for years.

a very short fic, tucked away in the Adult Board on the forum for over a decade and unearthed in about 2014 by yours truly.

notes: - this is a story about a sneezing vagina. it is nsfw. - i do not condone sexualizing people on their 18th birthday, but i feel like this is so far removed from anything that could ever arouse anyone or resemble reality that i think it's probably okay - it is very bad

A Strange Happening

It was finally Elexsis' 18th Birth Day and she was excited to

know now she could do what ever she wanted and injoy life a bit

more than usual. Today made her feel great cause she would find

out the families secret. As she got up that morning she took a

shower her long, blond, back length hair Clung to her body. Her

blue eyes shinning with excitement, and her fine crurves were

slowly covered in soapy lather and Elexsis soon later was

finished.

As she got dressed into her tight blue geans that hugged her

but and her tank top shirt, her lower half started to tingle.

Elexsis rubed down at her crotch and the tingle soon stopped

within a few seconds. With that she grabed her perfume and walk

out to the dinner table. Her mom greated her and set down a plat

of toast and eges.

"Happy Birth Day Elexsis." Her mother said with a smile as her

mother watched her put salt and pepper on her eges. Her mom got a

worried look on her face and then relaxed to see nothing

happening at all. "So you ready to find out the family secret?"

Elexsis nodded as she shoved her food down her throat, and saw

that she was already going to be late for school. When she finish

she packed her back pack and left with out a good bye or

anything.

Her father came into the kitchen with a yawn and her asked,

"So did you tell her yet?"

Elexsis mother looked down at the ground as she admited to not

telling her daughter a thing. Elexsis father hugged her and told

her not to worry maybe it wouldn't have effect till she got back

home. What Elexsis didn't know was that she like her parents were

alians and their 18th Birth Day is the start of their forever

problem on earth.

Elexsis got to school and as usual every guy drouled over her

walking bye. Her nice furm breast were about the only thing the

guys thought about when she walked by. she would hadly ever wear

a bra and that made them jiggle when she walked alot of times.

Her friend who not only was bi-sexual but had a huge crush on

her best friend called out to Elexsis in thried period. It was

there she was to find out what the secret she wanted to know was

to creep up on her.

"So Happy B-Day Elexsis." Diana said perky and cheerful. Diana

was 5' even and stood shorter than Elexsis who was at 5' 10". She

wore a high tone of musk perfume and it almost made Elexsis gag

for air. Diana's breast were orange sized and her brown hair hung

to her ears. She was okay but that perfume needed to die down.

"THank you" Elexsis said, smiling feeling a tingle in her

pussy. Then she heard it a sound all to familure. the sound of

person about to sneeze.

"Ahhh... aahhhh.." Elexsis looked around then her thighs

movedas the sneeze sounds got louder. "AAHHH...aaahhhh.." then it

released the sneeze. "AHCCHHHOOOO!!" Elexsis felt her pussy

release an amount of jucies from her pussy.

The teacher looked up and told Elexsis to go to the nurses

office. Elexsis did as she was told embarassed and red in the

face. The nurse let Elexsis go home cause she told them she was

getting sick from her mother having the flu.

"So it seems you found out?" Her mother said.

"Yeah what's with my pussy sneezing like that?" Elexsis said

angery at her mother and father for keeping it a secret. "I mean

do you have this problem?"

"Sure do." Her mother said, "If you want i can show you when

we get home."

"But why did my pussy sneeze?" Elexsis asked, not sure if she

could live like this.

"We're alians when we turn 18 our pussies get allergic to

things that would make a normal person sneeze. on our planet its

less of a problem but here it make you get horny as heck and you

ether sneeze till you come or have sex." Her mother smiled as her

daughter laughed. "I'm serious. Do you feel horny now?" This is

not a question for a mother to ask Elexsis felt it was wierd to

talk about.

"It tingles down there and I feel like I must do some thing to

get this building sensation away." Elexsis squented her eyes in

painfull need to cum.

"I know dear. Hold on and let us get home. We're almost

there." Her mother hated that her daughter would no longer live a

normal life.

when they got home Elexsis felt a strange tingle in her crotch

again. "Oh no, not again." the sounds started as Elexsis striped

out of her pants and under wear seeing her pussy lips open and

shut with every intake. "Ahhh... aaahhhh... aaahhhhh.."

"Aaahhhh.. aahhh.. AHCCCHHHHOOOOOO!!! CCHHOOOO!!! CCHHHOOO!!!"

Elexsis felt like she was going to cum now but she didn't.

"Bless you." Her mother said and saw the lust in her daughters

face.

"Thank you." Her pussy answered. "Im glad I can finally sneeze

and talk."

"Mother my p..pussy it talked?" Elexsis was scared stiff and

saw her mother smile.

"I know." Her mother said, "Watch" She stripped and said hello

to her crotch. "Hi"

Her pussy now talked, "Hello. How are you today?"

"Fine thank you. And you?" Her mother asked.

"I can't beleve you kept me from sneezing when you know i had

to. I love to sneeze. You know that."

"I know but Mr. Glad couldn't hear you sneeze." Her mother

said, "We would expose our selve"

"True but his Dog made me want to sneeze so badly and you must

have looked funny rubbing you crotch infront of him."

"You want to sneeze now?" Elexsis mother asked sweetly.

"Please I still feel that dog around hear." the pussy said as

Elexsis' mother picked up the pepper shaker.

"Pepper good for you?" Her mother asked.

"Sure." Her mother got some pepper in her hands and blew it

down at her pussy. "I..I think th..th.. that will do it...

aahhh.. aahhh.. SSSHHHHEEEWWWWW!!! SSHHHHEEEEWWW!!!

SSSHHEEEWWWW!"

"Bless you." Her mother said feeling aroused.

"Th.. th.. thank you AAAHHHSSSHHHEEEWWWW!! SSSHHHEEEWWW!!"

"Bless you again." Her mother said.

"Thank you." Her pussy said.

"Think you can sneeze five more?" Her mother needed it to be

over.

"AAHHH..AAHHHH... SSSHHHHEEEEWWW!! SSSHHHHEEWWW!!! SSHHEEWWW!!

AHSSHHEEEWW!!"

"AAHHH.. aaaahhh.." with each intake the erge got worse to cum

and her daughter watched to turned on to care. "Aaahhh.. aahhh..

AAAHHHSSSHHHHEEWWWW!!!" with that she cane in the chair she sat

in and cleaned her pussy off.

"GOD BLESS YOU." Elexsis mother said to her crotch and put

back on her pants. "That felt good."

"so I have to find out what my pussy is allergic to?" Elexsis

said scared and not knowing what was hapening.

"Excactly." Her mother answered as the door bell rang.

It was scot a football player that every girl wanted and he

was at her door. "I can't believe it." Elexsis got dressed and

answered the door. "Hi"

He had on a muscle shirt and his blue eyes turned her on so

much her nipples started to get hard. then it happened he had

flowers for her and walked in side the house.

"Hi. Are you okay i heard they sent you home." Scot said,

"These are for you." He handed her the flowers and then felt the

tickle in her crotch again. It was going to sneeze again and she

was already turned on to the point of no return.

"Thank you." Elexsis said. blushing.

"AAHhhh... aaahhh.. CCCHHHOOOO!!!" Scot saw her body fly up

with the force of the sneeze and then knowing it was coming from

her pussy.

"Was that your your pussy?" Scot asked studdering and some how

turned on from the sneeze.

"Yeah you know it was to." Elexsis answered and felt so turned

on it made her want him more. "You think you can message it for

me if it tries that again?"

"You bet lets go to your room." Scot grabbed her hand getting

hard as a rock from the sneeze. Sneezes always turned him on but

from a pussy it got him big time.

They entered her bed room and with out the flowers the sneezes

died down. Scot layed down on top of her as a cat entered the

room and Elexsis' pussy opened and shut with every intake.

"Aaahhh.. aaahhhh.. aahhh.." Scot rubbed up and down

Elexsis'pussy and the sneeze stopped.

"You think you could hold them in?" Scot said to Elexsis and

let go. "Try."

Elexsis knew she had nothing to do with this and saw the cat

getting closer, and taking steps toward her pussy as the sneeze

got stronger. "Aaahhh.. aahhh... aaahhhhh.." Then the cats tail

was rubed up against Elexsis' pussy.

The erge got stronger and Elexsis got the impulse to take Scot

and have him enter her before the sneeze took control. His hard

as rock penis entered her and held the sneeze down only a bit.

Then opening and shuting of the pussy got to him so much he felt

as if he would cum soon. the cat layed by them and its tail

swished around Scot's erecasion making him want to cum more and

the pussy want to sneeze.

"Aaahhh.. aahhh.. aahhh.."

"Dont sneeze." Scot said.

"aahhh.. aahhh.. AAAAHHHHHH.... CCCHHHOOOOOOO!!!" Elexsis came

with the sneeze and Scot fallowed at the same time both satisfide

and tired as Scot left and Elexsis mother entered.

"Was it good?" Elexsis smiled and nodded her head with a sigh

of relief and her mother smiled, "Don't let your father know

okay" With that her mother left the room to leave Elexsis to her

ecstasy.

[tonystarktogo]

Secret Santa Gift Fic III

This is @thevanishedillusion‘s secret santa gift. You gave a very detailed prompt and I’m afraid this isn’t exactly what you asked for. Once I started, the character developed on its own. But I still tried to stay close to the initial premise and I hope you’ll like it anyways! Have fun and merry Christmas! :)

Fair warning: this is only the second time in my entire life that I write in second person. I did my best but it’s still a perspective I’m unfamiliar with. Also this fic contains references to character death, mental health issues, trauma and PTSD (all in references to events happening in Iron Man 1). The prompt is at the end of the fic. 

“I love you. Isn’t that just the saddest thing?”  –Quote from Elementary, S03E12

Unrequited love sucks. It sounds like a no-brainer. Something so obvious it should slap you in the face the first time it comes up in casual conversation—but it doesn’t. And sure, on an intellectual level, you’ve always known it. You’ve understood that the ‘unrequited’ is just a shorter way to say ‘no happy ending available’. You’re aware it means someone doesn’t get what they so desperately want, whom they so desperately want. But that doesn’t mean you’ve been prepared for the reality of it.

The truth is, it doesn’t just suck. It’s a bit like a sucker punch every time you see them smile—even, especially, when that smile is for someone other than you. It’s like slapping yourself over the back of the head over and over again, yet still misspelling that one word when the time for the spelling bee comes. In your case, that word was ‘misanthrope’. You always forgot the ‘h’, no matter how often your mom reminded you. No matter how often your best friend helped you practice, despite how much he hated sitting still and waiting for you to remember all the letters.

You still got it wrong when it mattered. You still didn’t duck fast enough to avoid that damn bullet that got you discharged from the closest thing you had to a home for good. And you still didn’t get the guy at the end of the story.

It sounds like the start of a Bridget Jones movie—or at least you hope so, because if your prince charming isn’t waiting right around the corner, your memoirs will make for one heck of a depressing story.

And, wow, talk about throwing yourself a pity party.

[continues under the cut]

Another truth—one you don’t care to acknowledge too often lately—is that life isn’t as bad as you make it out to be. Sure, you almost died in a bloody—in every sense of the word—terrorist attack a couple of months ago. And yeah, the first months after said attack made you wish you hadn’t made it.

But you’ve gotten past that now. For the most part. You’ve built yourself a new life, a civilian life—and who’d have thought you were capable of adjusting to it so fast, certainly not you—and it’s not what you’re accustomed to, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing.

You’ve got a real home now. A small flat, three rooms only, which drives your best friend up the wall every time he visits, but it’s all the space you need. Tony, of course, isn’t too happy with that explanation. He’s still pushing you, as much as he dares to anyways, to move into his tower—but so far you’ve held your own. Decades of prolonged exposure are probably the only reason you’ve managed to accomplish that particular feat. That and the trauma that you’re half-ashamed to admit you’ve used as an excuse more than once.

It’s what you need though. Your own space, away from Tony Stark and his larger than life personality, away from the papers and reporters, away from JARVIS’ all-seeing eyes, away from his beautiful assistant slash girlfriend.

Jesus, you’re starting to sound like a scorned ex again, you realise, and force yourself to push those bitter thoughts away. It’s not fair to Pepper Potts, the woman who’s managed to capture Tony’s heart after all these years. Nor is it fair to Tony himself, for that matter.

It’s not like you’ve ever had any sort of claim on him. And Tony never promised you anything, never tried to initiate something that went beyond the friendship you’ve both worked so hard to hold on to. In some ways, that actually makes it worse. Because you have no right to feel like you’ve been cast away—not when Tony keeps inviting you over for dinner like clock-work every week, not when Pepper always greets you with an honest smile, not when there’s been a floor with your name on it in Tony’s tower since long before he’s started to build it—you know that.

Tony hasn’t abandoned you. He hasn’t thrown nearly three decades of friendship away because of a woman, even one as brilliant as Pepper. That’s not the kind of man he is.

Unfortunately, none of those nice, rational facts change how you feel.

And that’s not even starting on the stomach-clenching sensation you feel every time you watch those small, but oh-so-telling affectionate gestures between them. The ones that tell you more than words ever could that Tony and Pepper aren’t eccentric boss and exasperated assistant any longer. They’re a real life, official couple.

As his best friend, you should be happy for Tony. For the happiness in his eyes, the way they glimmer when he looks at her. The fact that you can’t manage more than a tense, half-hearted smile makes you feel like the lowest scum on earth, which is why you spend a lot of time decidedly not thinking about it at all.

Sadly, avoidance only gets you so far in life. And when someone like Tony Stark is involved, that ‘so far’ isn’t very far at all. You love that dork to death, but if there is one thing Tony can’t do, it’s to let things go. He always has to pick and pick at them, until you get annoyed and lash out. Something that’s been happening more and more often lately.

It would be wrong to say that your friendship with Tony has started to fall apart ever since he confessed to being in love with Pepper. You like to think you’re not that petty, though as things currently stand you’ll never know.

Right now it’s not Pepper, who’s standing between you and Tony—or at least she isn’t the only one. There’s a whole immeasurably huge black hole titled ‘Afghanistan’ as well. And unlike Pepper, it’s not something you can throw a quick smile and apologetic last-minute cancellation at.

Afghanistan compiles all of your worst nightmares, your greatest terrors, your most horrible memories into one single word. As though anything human languages have created could adequately express what happened. What you lost. What you survived.

You’ve never talked about it, never even acknowledged it. There hasn’t been any time. Ever since Tony blew up the terrorists that held him hostage—and it should make you proud, relieved at the very least, that your civilian friend with no training managed such a feat, but all it really does is remind you that all the trained soldiers, that you, didn’t—life has been a whirlwind that shows no signs of slowing down.

But for you the world stopped turning four months ago. You lost your entire unit four months ago. You went to sleep every night with your best friend’s screams ringing in your ears for months every night since.

Of course the second Tony set foot on American soil again, he did what he’s always done: he evolved. He’s turned his company around, he’s asked Pepper out, he’s turned himself into a freaking superhero. He fought for his life on the rooftops of New York while you were trying to make it through a night without waking up shaking and screaming.

Somehow Tony has taken the trauma of those three months and compressed them into something that drives him forward—and you hate him for it, just a little, as much as you’re trying not to, because all you seem to be able to do is slow down.

Tony tries to help you, it’s not like he’s blind to your issues. Not like you could keep it from him either. But this—in this he can’t help you. You can’t let him. It’s ironic in a way: Tony is the only other survivor, the only one who was there when your world blew up around you. He was there, he’s the one best equipped to understand what you’re going through. And instead of helping you, instead of making things easier, it makes everything so much worse.

It’s why you’re here now. Standing in front of a bright building, just twenty minutes away from your home, unable to bring yourself to enter, yet unable to walk away.

Well, technically it’s Pepper’s fault—another thing you try very hard not to be bitter about. Because Pepper is smart, yes, but she’s also attentive in a way Tony has never had the patience to be, and it scares you sometimes. The way she looks at you, like she understands. Like she knows.

You met her for coffee three days ago, after months of avoiding her. Her words, pointed but gentle, like the warmth in her eyes could soothe the sting, have been haunting you ever since.

Tony is your friend, nothing will ever change that. But he can’t be your therapist. He can’t heal you, much as it pains him, and it’s not fair of you to expect him to.

You’d snapped at her, affronted, embarrassed or maybe just plain furious, and Pepper had apologised—I’m sorry, it wasn’t my place—but she never took those words back. You don’t think she could have, even if she wanted to.

The worst part, that’s about the only thing you’re currently sure of, is that she might just be right. Pepper has an annoying habit of doing that. Of getting under your skin, cutting straight through your bullshit to the heart of the matter. It’s moments like these when you realise what Tony sees in her.

And it’s because of that nagging fear, that worry Pepper has awoken in you, that you’re here now, trying to work up the courage to enter the ordinary, unthreatening looking office building. Half the time you’re convinced that this is a stupid, pointless endeavour, but even if a session with one of New York’s leading trauma therapists isn’t going to change your world—an outside view might help you get some perspective on the mess your life has turned into. Might help you sleep through the night without second-guessing your entire relationship with Tony, at least.

It still takes you another week to work up the courage and actually schedule an appointment.

*

The first time you met Tony, you were six and he was seven and the two of you were at a charity gala of some sort, bored out of your minds. You got into an argument that devolved into a hair-pulling fight, because you were taller than him and therefore insisted on calling him a baby. After your parents separated you—and you got a scolding that made you cry, you still remember that one—Tony defended you and you’d been inseparable ever since.

Sure, eventually you were forced apart by the realities of the different lives you lived. Tony joined SI straight out of college, as was expected, and he loved it like you knew he would. You, on the other hand, went against expectations and joined the military. But even though you spent less time together, the two of you remained close friends.

Looking back you can’t even tell when exactly your feelings for Tony changed. It wasn’t love at first sight or any of those other ridiculously romantic notions though, that’s for sure. You don’t think there is a precise moment where it happened either. More of a gradual process maybe. Tony has been your closest confidant for so many years that you haven’t been able to imagine a life without him in a long time—yet, thanks in no small parts to your career choice, a serious relationship has never been an option you’ve considered.

You’re honest enough with yourself to acknowledge that you only admitted to yourself how you truly feel after Tony became unavailable. Maybe you’re just that much of a selfish bitch—or maybe it was yet another attempt to sabotage the most meaningful relationship you have left.

That’s one of the questions that pains you the most. And it’s also one Meredith—your counsellor—has been unable to answer for you. You can almost hear her amused laugh at that thought. ‘I can’t give you any answers. The best I can do is help you discover them for yourself,’ is what she would probably say if she could hear you right now—and you don’t know whether it’s a good thing or not that you know that.

You don’t know a lot of things, these days.

*

The sessions help. It doesn’t feel that way at first—still doesn’t, on your off-days. In the beginning, you barely had anything to say to Meredith. Everything just seemed—too much, too big to be put into words. But it’s getting easier—not easy, mind you, you doubt it ever will be—to talk now. Even though you sometimes describe the same event four times. It gets easier to find the words, to put them to use. To work through what happened and how you feel about it.

It’s not always a flattering realisation, and certainly there are thoughts that have never made it past your lips, have never left the privacy of your own mind. But there are things you can share, and those lose some of their weight over time. A progress so slow you don’t notice it until three months have passed and the dinner invitation Tony sends you no longer invokes that crushing sense of despair-disgust-hate-want-confusion-fear it used to.

You still decline but you’re working on not hating yourself for it. ‘Your recovery comes first,’ you repeat to yourself, words Meredith uses all the time. ‘Take whatever measures you need to feel safe and comfortable.’ They used to be nothing but a string of meaningless words, but lately you’ve found yourself clinging to them, seeking comfort in them.

Lately you’ve forced yourself to admit that for all that you love Tony, for all that he means the world to you—whenever you look at him, gun fire is tearing your eardrums apart, and whenever he smiles, you feel that terrible mixture of resentment-self-disgust-affection cracking you open from the inside out.

You love Tony. Maybe you always have. But right now, you need him out of your life. Right now, all he does—if unknowingly and unintentionally—is pull you down, down, down, chains you to the worst days of your entire life. And there are still doubts creeping up on you sometimes, but you’re starting to realise that that’s okay.

You’re starting to realise that when Meredith says you’ve come a long way, she means it.

*

The first time Meredith suggests going to a group meeting, you almost walk straight out of her office again. ‘There are groups specifically for veterans suffering from PTSD,’ Meredith’s calm voice says over the roar in your ears. ‘People with similar experiences. People you might connect to and from who’s own experiences and support you might benefit.’

You’re aware that what Meredith is really trying to say is, you are not alone. And you hate that you’re so freaking self-centred still, but in that moment those words don’t bring you the comfort they are supposed to. Instead all you hear is ‘you are not that special’ and despite knowing better, despite everything, it hurts.

That night, Tony calls you for the first time in over two weeks. That night, you take a deep breath that does nothing to lessen the tight feeling in your chest, and press Ignore.

You read about a fight at Tony’s birthday party in the newspapers the next day, and are too ashamed to call him back. Ashamed because you didn’t answer your cell. Ashamed because you forgot about his birthday entirely.

*

At first, the group meetings are torture. You don’t even know why you attend your first one. Meredith brings them up on occasion, but she never outright tells you to go—“You’re a grown woman, you can make your own decisions.”—and yet there you are.

You don’t say a word that first time, barely manage to look anyone in the eyes. You feel uncomfortable, out of place, put on a spot even though nobody is approaching you either. No surprise, given the very clear leave-me-alone vibes you’re sending out.

You come back the following week though, and the week after that, even though you’re not quite sure why. You start to recognise the faces, start to remember the names they give. Start to feel like a part of the crowd. When you speak up for the first time, it feels like a huge step that has your heart racing and nervous sweat running down your back. When you speak up for the second time, it’s a giant fuck-you to your own, scary-cat self.

After that, you do it more often. You share more. You stay behind after the meetings end a couple of times, exchange short conversations with other attendees. You get to know the regulars, start recognising first timers like you used to be.

You don’t think these meetings are supposed to help when you don’t even believe in them, but somehow it sneaks up on you. The dawning realisation that nobody went exactly through what you suffered, but there are many people out there who went through something similar, many people who might not know but can still understand.

Not being special doesn’t sound as bad as it used to.

*

You don’t find out how close you’ve come to losing Tony forever until long after the drama has died down. Pepper mentions it in passing one day, during your bi-monthly lunches together that you’ve started picking up again recently. You’re still working up the courage to face Tony again, when she drops a comment about the poison and his almost-death.

That night you wake up screaming for the first time in twenty-two days. The worst part is that even now you know you’ve made the right choice when you cut him out of your life.

*

It’s Tony who calls you, just like it’s always been Tony reaching out and you blocking him off since Afghanistan. That word has started to lose some of that shadow it used to cast over you, gets easier to think these days.

That’s one of the many, many reasons why you answer when he calls you this time.

“Are you watching TV?” is the first thing your best friend asks you, and it’s simultaneously the most inane and most Tony thing he could have said.

There’s an almost laugh forcing its way out of your throat, and in that moment it’s like you’ve never been apart. Like Afghanistan never happened, like you’re still twenty-two and giggling on your smelly couch in your crappy college room. “No,” you reply and hope he can hear the I’m so sorry you’re not quite ready to voice yet.

“Good.” Tony’s voice is rough, and because you’ve known him all your life, you don’t have to ask whether something is wrong. You already know.

“What’s going on?” you ask, but he interrupts you before you’ve even finished the question.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and those are the last words you’ve expected to hear, “I’m so, so sorry I couldn’t protect you. I’m—this is—listen, just, things got a little out of hand and I’m kind of on a timer, just—damn, I wish I’d called you sooner.” Tony laughs and it’s not a happy sound.

There’s an urgency in his voice you’ve heard only once before and it punches the air out of your lungs like you’ve taken a hit to the stomach. “I never blamed you,” you say, don’t even know where the words are coming from—except, that’s not quite true, is it? You’ve been thinking them since you first woke up in that hospital to the shuttered look in Tony’s eyes, have swallowed them down ever since. Because back then it wasn’t true and Tony would have known. You don’t know when you started to believe them, but now you do, and you want, need him to know that. “For anything. It wasn’t your fault, Tony. You had no control over what happened. And saving me was never your responsibility.”

Tony makes a strange sound then, an almost pained keen you don’t know how to interpret, and when he speaks again he sounds like he’s in a hurry. “Watch your back, baby,” he breathes, the childhood nickname back from your first meeting falling as easily from his lips as it always did, “you’ve always done the best job at that, never needed anyone’s help with it. Just—do one thing for me, alright? Don’t turn on the TV.”

The line goes dead before you can get another word out.

You call Tony back immediately, but it goes straight to voicemail. Call him again as you cross your kitchen and walk into the living room. Again as you switch on the TV. And again. And again.

“I’m sorry, Tony.” Your voice is shaking and you think you’re crying, but you can’t take your eyes off the screen long enough to check. “I’m so, so sorry. I couldn’t handle it, any of it. Afghanistan broke me—I let it break me, and I know you tried to help, that’s what you always do, but I couldn’t let you. Be-Because you made it out. Seeing you, all it ever did was remind me that you did what I couldn’t, that you were stronger than I was, that you were handling things better than I was, and it hurt. It hurt so much and I felt so useless. And-and after everything that happened in that c-cave, all that time I was completely useless, and when I finally got out I still was! I couldn’t take that—I—“

Your voice breaks, maybe you’re sobbing or maybe you’ve run out of air, but you can’t stop now. Just like you couldn’t stop acknowledging that you love Tony the moment you couldn’t have him, because that’s just your thing, isn’t it?

“I’m working on it. I’m getting better and I’m sorry for locking you out, I’m sorry for pushing you away without an explanation because you deserved one. I’m sorry for expecting you to put all the work into our friendship, expecting you to reach out and support me and hold me up. I should have thought about how difficult things were for you as well, but I just couldn’t focus on anything but me—and I can’t undo that now, but I wish I had at least told you.

“You know what the worst part is?” you ask hoarsely as you watch Tony—Iron Man—your whole world—fall out of the sky in slow-motion, “I love you. Isn’t that just the saddest thing?”

*

It takes you three weeks to get up the courage to drive to the Stark Tower. When you step out of the elevator, Tony is there, dressed in an old MIT sweatshirt and loose pants, and you pull him into a hug before you can stop yourself. You don’t want to stop yourself.

And you don’t have everything figured out yet—you aren’t twenty-two any more and you threw that smelly couch out a long time ago, you still wake up screaming every so often, you still go to meetings, and you still see Meredith, and Tony and Pepper are in some sort of limbo you haven’t dared to ask about—but Tony hugs you back without hesitation.

You’re best friends, first and foremost, and for the first time in a long while you believe that that means something. You believe that it means everything. You believe that the two of you will figure it out in your own time.

@thevanishedillusion asked for a Fem!ReaderxTony Stark story set in Iron Man 1, who’s been best friends since their early childhood and who was with him in Afghanistan. Also unrequited love on her part. Not to say that it’ll stay unrequited, Tony definitely loves her, but I didn’t want to make the jump from Pepper to her too quick–it would have only made his feelings seem less genuine. Again, I took lots of liberties with your prompt but I still hope you enjoyed my take on your concept :)

One last time, merry Christmas to everyone who celebrates it and a happy Sunday to everyone who doesn’t!

[dweemeister]

An embarrassing (?), incomplete list of popular films I've not seen

Yes, this is a film blog... albeit a blog dedicated to older movies. I try to watch more pre-1980 movies than post-1980 movies each year, so this of course means there are major newer titles that I have never gotten around to and are somehow still on my watchlist. So I guess that’s sort of embarrassing? My rationale sometimes is that those truly popular post-1980 movies - because they are on TV so much - make me think: “Oh, they’ll always be on TV so I can wait a bit longer.” Movies that are the beginning of long franchises I haven’t begun are things I avoid for some strange reason. The 1980s are also my least favorite decade of filmmaking. In addition, it should be noted I was a sensitive child. There are many R-rated movies from the 1980s-late 2000s I’ve never seen because I was sheltered and I was easily scared.

For my energetic, vocal followers who are versed in Indian cinema... there are no Indian movies down here. I’m not embarrassed over my lack of knowledge in Indian cinema because the lack of availability and platforms to access in the U.S.

Anyways I’m rambling. Here’s a list of movies I’m sort of embarrassed - I really shouldn’t be, though - to not have seen by this point. I’ve done this sort of list before, but I can’t find the post. So I expect all of you to lose trust in my movie tastes and expertise after reading this! I’ll try to explain what’s preventing me from seeing some of these, too. Without further ado (in chronological order and most embarrassing bolded... so I guess the juiciest stuff that most of my followers will be aghast at will be at the bottom):

Little Caesar (1931)... “Is this the end of Rico?” I wouldn’t know! This iconic gangster movie’s been on my watchlist forever.

Tarzan the Ape Man (1932)... The Weissmuller Tarzan is on TCM so often. Because I know it’s a long-running series makes me less-hesitant to get into it.

Screwball comedies including: Libeled Lady (1936), My Man Godfrey (1936), The Philadelphia Story (1940; oh my god it’s always on TCM too)

Angels with Dirty Faces (1938)

Gentleman’s Agreement (1947)

Sansho the Bailiff (1954, Japan)... so. much. praise.

Seven Brides for Seven Brothers (1954)... I mean, knowing the premise, I’m preparing for it to be really meh despite Stanley Donen directing (if you say so @halfwaythruthedark)

Oklahoma! (1955)... not really familiar with this R&H musical in the first place

Two Federico Fellini films in particular: La Dolce Vita (1960, Italy) and 8½ (1963, Italy)... I’ve seen plenty of his stuff but these are glaring holes

It’s a Mad Mad Mad Mad World (1963)

Andrei Rublev (1966, Soviet Union)

The Omen (1976)

Animal House (1978)... okay okay Little Red Reading Hood (you know who you are) get ready to be horrified even more in a few moments

Caddyshack (1980)

The Shining (1980)... I’ve seen bits and parts but otherwise I’ve refused to watch it because I don’t want it being chopped up by commercials

The Thing (1982)... because I really like the original and I’m meh on John Carpenter

Flashdance (1983)... because if there’s anything that can make me roll my eyes and sort of enjoy at the same time... it’s ‘80s power ballads. Like Seven Brides, I’m expecting this to suck hard.

Footloose (1984)... ffs

GhostBusters (1984)... never been a Bill Murray fan and it’s ALWAYS on television (I’m procrastinating, remember)

The NeverEnding Story (1984)... too many friends have grown up with it and I’ve never gotten around to it

Once Upon a Time in America (1984)

The Black Cauldron (1985)... here only because I wanna stick it to my Disney-loving friends

Blue Velvet (1986)... not a fan of David Lynch... so am I missing out on something?

Top Gun (1986)... great soundtrack but... do I have to? :|

Dirty Dancing (1987)... *grumbles about ‘80s power ballads again*

Full Metal Jacket (1987)... seen in parts. I’m Viet-American and I hate Vietnam War movies. And I do not like the parts that I have seen.

Die Hard (1988)... the recent movement proclaiming this as the best Christmas movie ever is pissing the hell off of me. I don’t care if this might be the action movie ever... that kind of fanboyish behavior is off-putting.

Ghost (1990)... because all of the folks a generation above me in the family have seen it. Whoopi is always a plus, but I don’t care for Patrick Swayze and Demi Moore?

Free Willy (1993)

Groundhog Day (1993)... see GhostBusters

Mrs. Doubtfire (1993)... I’ve seen more than half of it but never all the way through

Chungking Express (1994, Hong Kong)

Dumb and Dumber (1994)... I don’t like Jim Carrey. It’s something that will come up later in this list.

Braveheart (1995)... referenced so often but Mel Gibson? *sigh*

Casper (1995)

Ghost in the Shell (1995, Japan)... a lot of anime-centric fans have badgered me with this one over the years

Jumanji (1995)... it scared the heck out of me when I was younger and I never completed it

Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery (1997)... haven’t seen a single Austin Powers movie all the way through. Something tells me it may not be worth it.

The Lost World: Jurassic Park (1997)... I actually only saw the first movie in late 2013. Too frightened of dinosaurs when I was younger. And a lot of people I know have seen the sequel. 

The Big Lebowski (1998)... this is a biggie. I know it’s Coen Brothers. I know it’s supposed to be really funny, but it’s really hard for me to like a raunchy comedy... is it witty and intelligent? Maybe a good message?

The Truman Show (1998)... people have tried to describe this to me but it never makes any sense each time they try. I dislike Jim Carrey and think his brand of humor is on the cruel, hyperactive side.

Fight Club (1999)... because fuck David Fincher (those are three words that could get me in serious trouble with fanboys) and all the toxic masculinity in his movies not nearly as well-critiqued as people think

The Green Mile (1999)... it was big with dad and my uncles back in the day... the 3+ hour runtime for a movie that isn’t an epic is keeping me away

The Sixth Sense (1999)... Remember I was a sheltered, easily-scareable kid!

X-Men (2000)... I’ve never seen the one that started it all. Superhero media has never been something I’ve sought too much. Even as a young kid.

Amélie (2001, France)... it’s just not been available on any platform that I have access to and I prefer to see non-English language movies legally if I can (supehero movies though? fuck it I’ll theater hop; Marvel doesn’t need more money)

Moulin Rouge! (2001)... a few of my friends love it. I’m skeptical of Baz Luhrmann movies always.

City of God (2002, Brazil)... see explanation for Amélie

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004)... chalk it up to Jim Carrey and me being sheltered

Rent (2005)... lots of girls in middle school and high school liked this movie. Its popularity drew me away from it.

Before you doth protest too much, remember that this blog is concentrated on pre-1980 stuff and I limit my post-1980 movie consumption so that I’m well-rounded chronologically and can understand film history better. I’ve seen plenty of obscure stuff that should find a larger audience, regardless of how old that movie is, and I promote those movies a lot. And considering Roger Ebert passed away having never seen The Sound of Music (1965) and I’m only in my mid-20s? I’m not doing too bad.

[dramallamadingdang]

Overdue Replies

Holy crap, this is long, OMG. I’m so sorry.

For @pensblr, @bunsblr, @shaonharryandpannisim, @newlibertysims, @fuzzyspork, @littleblondesim, @kayleigh-83, @penig, @damask-wallpaper, @acquiresimoleons, @sim-pudding-faces, @digitalangels, @celebkiriedhel, @unoriginalkirsten, @alicephant, annnnnnnnnnd @landgraab.

pensblr replied to your photoset “More paneling because I wanted some with narrower individual boards. I...”

Thank you! Love the high-res textures. Lately, I have been on a swap-out as many low-res textures as possible kick.

Ohhhhhh, then you are either going to love me or want to murder me in my sleep. Possibly both. :)

But yeah, I decided I wanted all the things high-res for this new Strangetown project. Mostly because I’m going to be photo-editing all the pictures and I want things as nice-looking as possible to start with and not have to worry about pixellation in the background if I’m taking close-ups and stuff. So, that means I have to make a lot of crap since I’m pretty much building a downloads folder from the ground up for it. Build mode first, since I’ll be building lots for the place soon... 

bunsblr replied to your photoset “More paneling because I wanted some with narrower individual boards. I...”

One can never have enough paneling!

That’s my feeling! It’s versatile! You can use it inside as paneling or outside as vertical siding. Both were big mid-century, which is pretty much what I’ll be building so...yeah. One sets of walls, multiple purposes.

shaonharryandpannisim replied to your photoset “More paneling because I wanted some with narrower individual boards. I...”

I had resisted the pull of those sofas. But I can NOT, for the love of Maxis, resist THESE.

Resistance is futile. You will be assimilated. Your biological and technological distinctiveness will be added to our own.

newlibertysims replied to your photo “Napoleon, not being an asshole. For once. He actually got along quite...”

That street needs a Cat Licking sign.

Orrrrr the cat needs to stay out of the road. Then again, cats like roads. Nice and waaaaaaaaarm.... :)

fuzzyspork replied to your photo “Napoleon, not being an asshole. For once. He actually got along quite...”

It's a good thing random cars don't drive past the lots in TS2. XD

They do when you have that fire hydrant that makes car pool vehicles drive by occasionally! I’m not using that in this neighborhood, though. Not yet, anyway. I don’t reckon it has much vehicle traffic, what with there being only three households and all. :)

littleblondesim replied to your photoset “Meanwhile, over at the pool hall, schmoozing with Review Guy has its...”

http://www.wordlab.com/name-generators/ :)

See, I knew someone would point me at one! :) *is lazyass* Thank you!

kayleigh-83 replied to your post “Your game is so ugly. Maybe it's about time to step it up to 2017.”

In which my eyes roll so hard they fall out of my head and across the floor...... lmao honestly anon, get a life.

They have a life! IT IS FULL OF CHEAP WHISKEY! ;)

kayleigh-83 replied to your photo “I can’t be the only one who thinks the poses that Sim-kids strike...”

So agree! I kind of wish Sims retained some of it as they age, like maybe more active Sims stayed more "active" sleepers? Would have been extra cute!

It would have been! I mean, some people never grow out of being restless, flailing, bed-hogging sleepers. *side-eyes husband*

kayleigh-83 replied to your photo “Heh. Took a break from hurling invective at the game’s lighting to...”

That's such a creative idea to make Sim paintings out of it! I love hanging art or photography in my Sims homes that are of their own world, it adds a kind of realism I appreciate! Just like we would hang photos or paintings of our own world.

I have always kinda wanted to do the “take in-game pics and turn them into family pictures” thing...but I’ve never actually done it. One, because I just don’t have the patience to do posing. Two, because even if I had the patience I’m utterly bewildered by poseboxes. Like, how on Earth do you keep track of which box has what poses? Especially because most of them “helpfully” give the poses names like “Pose 1.” I’m just all WTF when it comes to them. 

But I can do scenery pics as paintings/photos, yeah! 

fuzzyspork replied to your photo “Heh. Took a break from hurling invective at the game’s lighting to...”

NICE! Also, if you ever want to hate something that used to be fun for you, just do it as your job for a while. XD

Exactly! That’s why I really didn’t want to be a musician when I grew up! I wanted to be an architect! Unfortunately, math and I have that whole hate/hate relationship going on, so no architecture degree for me! And, as it turns out, music is the only bankable talent I have, given that I have no interest in having a “real job” with bosses and stuff because I’d just get my ass fired if I tried to have one. So, here we are! Thankfully, it didn’t kill my lurve. Probably because it’s such a wide-ranging field, so if you hammer on one aspect of it as your job, there are all sorts of other things you can do for fun.

penig replied to your photoset “OK, game-graphics nerds! I haz question! (Yes, @celebkiriedhel, I’m...”

I had to look intensely to see what you were talking about. I do notice that in my game and I think of it as realism. Because you can see the lines between panels and breadths of wallpaper IRL.

Well, yeah, I can see that with wallpaper. It does have seams IRL, at least. But for flat painted walls, where the “gradient thing” is the most noticeable because there’s otherwise no pattern to distract your eye? Yeah, that doesn’t work as well. :) *still busily hurling invective at Maxis and their stupid lighting calculations and going why, why, WHYYYYYYYYY?!*

damask-wallpaper replied to your photoset “Technicolor was a series of processes used in filmmaking mostly...”

What a fun idea! Who doesn't love the technicolor look?

I love, love, love old movies, with a special fondness for B-movies from the 50s/60s done on the cheap with bad Technicolor when Technicolor was no longer cool. So, yeah, I love the look, myself, whether it’s done well or badly. I think it’ll be fun to photoedit pics for retro-Strangetown.

I kinda wonder if it might be possible to get ReShade to make the game itself look like it’s in Technicolor, but I’ve never managed to get ReShade to work with my TS2 install, so I can’t experiment with that. :(

acquiresimoleons replied to your photoset “Since his mama had decided to visit, Steven made a special dinner....”

Yaaay werewolf! (I'm pretty sure that's what's happening anyway lmao)

Yup, he’s a werewolf! :) I’ve always liked the transformation sequence in TS2. It’s so drama-ful. :)

sim-pudding-faces replied to your photo “And then it was time for Baby Aaron to grow up… Ermagerd, he’s cute!...”

Aww.. lil guy is trying to be stud at an early age, eh?

It’s all about the laydeez! Or maybe about the bois! Or maybe both! Dunno what he’ll like yet. But yes, a stud from infancy, he is. ;)

digitalangels replied to your post “Your game is so ugly. Maybe it's about time to step it up to 2017.”

I'd love to see how anon's game looks to see what is "stepping it up" in their books but I bet they're too much coward to give their name for us to see. And anyway, isn't half of the point in Sims games customizing it to look how *you* want *your* game to look like or have I been doing it wrong all these years?

Yeah, it’s kind of funny how such people who leave such messages don’t give you any points of reference. “Stepping it up” is meaningless without such things. I mean, how else are we to know if we’re “stepping it up” properly? 

No, really, I think some people are just really offended by non-Maxis-match and/or using older CC and/or shinier hair/skin textures these days. But, I’m uninterested in Maxis-match (for my own game; I like looking at other Maxis-matchers’ pics, though!), and I like a bit of shine because we do not live in a matte/cartoony world, so such folks and me will just never see eye-to-eye when it comes to game aesthetics. And that’s OK by me, but apparently not by them. Or something. I’m still going with “bottle of whiskey + nothing better to do on a Friday night so let’s *hurr hurr* try to make people angry” theory. To each their own!

newlibertysims replied to your photo “GilsCarburg, in moody Technicolor. ;) OK gotta stop fiddling with this...”

Reminds me of lazy, hazy, crazy days of...fall. XD

Fall! Fall is good! I can’t wait to get this whole summer business over with! I need to live in a place where it’s fall year-round. Which pretty much means another planet, but hey! I’m game for that!

newlibertysims replied to your post “Your game is so ugly. Maybe it's about time to step it up to 2017.”

Nothing wrong with being 2008 hot. Just ask Jenna Marbles!

*had to look up Jenna Marbles because I’m totally un-hip to the whole “youtube personality” thing* But yeah! Totally! Other than finding my soulmate in 2013, I think this decade totally bites, personally. Actually, now that I think about it, so far this century ain’t so great, IMO. Tonight, we’re gonna party like it’s 1999. ;)

penig replied to your post “Your game is so ugly. Maybe it's about time to step it up to 2017.”

I think, from the voice of certain anons you've responded to lately that you've picked up my stalker. She doesn't like taking responsibility for what she says by putting a face on. And she is persistent as heck.

O RLY?! Oh, the fun we will have, then! Bring it on, anon, bring it on!

fuzzyspork replied to your link “Tips For Manipulating The Sourness Of Your Sourdough”

Ah! I needed this too! I always hated the sourdough we used to make because it was way too tangy (hubby loved it though). He works for a German company and one of the managers offered him some of her 100+ year old starter. I'll have to give it a shot.

Oh, yeah, totally. I’d definitely take her up on her offer. Even if it’s not to your taste to start, you can futz with it. You could even split it and develop a tangier starter and a not-so-tangy one, to suit both your tastes. ‘Course, then you’ve got double the upkeep, but it might be worth it...

fuzzyspork replied to your post “Your game is so ugly. Maybe it's about time to step it up to 2017.”

TS2 is 13 years old. I have no idea what "step it up to 2017" even means.

Right? I mean, TS2 is almost from the last century and all. Why must we force it into crappy 2017? I think it would make it cry. ;) 

...Unless we’re talking 2017BCE. That would be cool...

celebkiriedhel replied to your photo “Steven does the annoyed potty-training faces, too. Yes, it’s an...”

But what a manly hairy chest!!

Yeah, the GilsCarbo men are hairballs. ;) Well, the three of them so far, anyway. ;)

celebkiriedhel replied to your post “acquiresimoleons replied to your post: ...”

I used to keep mine on top of the fridge - the top of the fridge was warm from the motor. :)

That’s a good spot, too! The fridges in our places are built-ins, though, so you can’t put stuff on top of them. Which actually sort of sucks, but on the other hand the aesthetics of built-ins please me, so....Rock, hard place. ;)

celebkiriedhel replied to your link “Tips For Manipulating The Sourness Of Your Sourdough”

Thanks for this! I used to make my own bread when I was younger, and I miss having a sourdough starter living in my house.

It is rather fun when the oldest thing in your house is a living being. :)

celebkiriedhel replied to your post “Your game is so ugly. Maybe it's about time to step it up to 2017.”

LOL. Lets play 'How old the anon is'! My guess is early teens, with an entitlement phase of a toddler.

Yeah, if the “whiskey + lack of social life” theory isn’t correct, then I’m going with Age ~15. (No offense to sane 15-year-olds out there, but some of y’all...)  Of course, being 15 and the “whiskey + lack of social life” theory aren’t necessarily mutually-exclusive, so...

unoriginalkirsten replied to your photo “And then it was time for Baby Aaron to grow up… Ermagerd, he’s cute!...”

That is spectacular baby balancing right there!

Like those folks who can balance spinning basketballs on their fingertips! Of course, balancing a spinning baby is far more impressive...

alicephant replied to your post “Your game is so ugly. Maybe it's about time to step it up to 2017.”

Lol how dare you have a game that you find aesthetically pleasing �� anon is a poo head.

Is it just me, or is “poo head” just a way better insult than “shithead?” I mean, the former, when done right, is just so much more condescending. (And not in the Regency-era sense of the word, either. ;) ) But yeah, I agree. :)

landgraab replied to your post “Your game is so ugly. Maybe it's about time to step it up to 2017.”

"I don't like *your* game, so change it!!!"

Pretty much, yeah. Ya gotta wonder how anyone would think that such a demand would actually work, that anyone would just change everything about what they do in the game because some people don’t like their aesthetic. I mean, it’s not like those of us who don’t conform to “popular” trends are somehow unaware that we’re not conforming to popular treads. Especially when our general pattern in life is being deliberate in our refusal to conform to popular trends about anything, not just a silly game. ;)

[abitofafatass]

I am still so hecked up about Grif leaving the rest of the Blood Gulch Crew honestly. I dont think there’s a single thing in RvB that has hecked me up more.

I’m going to try to not regurgitate what other people have said about him quitting the teams, but a lot of people have got my views of Grif and his characterization spot on.

This got way longer than I intended to and probably would have gone on longer if I wasnt so tired

First, this is probably the first time that we’ve seen Grif upset. We saw him utterly pissed off in season 13, right after Hargrove and the Staff of Charon showed up, with his angry pacing and cursing, but this is the first time that we see Grif isolate himself because something upset him. And Church’s reappearance clearly did.

The rest of the Blood Gulch Crew sprung into action to go save Church, but Grif went and hid. That tells me that he and everyone else were in different stages of mourning. Maybe the others had gotten past it, or they were in denial, or maybe the reappearance of Church hit a reset button, but whatever it was, Grif was clearly not on the same page as them.

I think its very telling though that no one noticed that Grif was not with the rest of the teams as they were getting ready. You could argue that no one noticed because Grif is usually slacking off when there’s work to be done, and that’s probably what the teams assumed. Blue team was arguing on whether or not they should leave right away, and the Reds were... doing Red Team nonsense as they usually do. But not even Simmons noticed that Grif wasnt right there right up until they were practically out the door. 

Grif is sitting in that damn cave, going through some heavy emotional shit, and no one bothers to notice. You know who else people constantly forget about, and dont realize when he’s not there? Doc. Grif was about as exactly important to the teams as Doc is, and since Grif has been on the Forgot Doc Train, he knows that’s “not at all” to “barely even” important.

This thought is solidified by the fact the only person who comes to find him is that damn reporter, the lady who started it all. Grif is obviously the kind of guy who doesnt like to talk about his feelings, or what’s bothering him. That’s why he hid in the cave in the first place. And yet, here comes the last person who he wants to see, and she wants to talk to him. All the while, Grif is probably aware that his teams are getting ready to go on their stupid mission.

Dylan made two mistakes when she talked to Grif. The first one was she made everything about Church, which was what Grif was upset with in the first goddamn place. The wound from Church’s most recent death is still very fresh, and on top of that, the happy peaceful life that Grif had finally gotten was getting uprooted. Again. All for some asshole. Remember, from Grif’s perspective, this most recent Church also had a penchant for abandoning them (first by going after Tex, going after Tex into the Epsilon Unit, ditching them for Carolina the first chance he got, going along with Carolina after the Director, fucking off with Carolina on Chorus...), so why the hell would Grif want to chase after Church again just to have him leave?

And then Dylan brings up Sister. For all Grif knows at this point, Kaikaina is dead. They have not talked since the end of season five, which, if my math is right, was anywhere from 6 to 8 years ago.How dare Dylan pretend to know him, how dare she bring up his sister, whom he himself hasnt seen in half a decade.

How dare she strip Grif of that safety blanket of apathy he’d built for himself since his first assignment, where everyone he’d served with and presumably grew to care about died.

Because as long as he could pretend to himself that he didnt care about these people, he didnt have to deal with the fear of losing them again (with a Church exception). Dylan took that away from him. So of course he had to decry that he hated the father figure that he obviously looked up to, at least enough to emulate under times of stress. Of course he’s going to scream he hates the guy that has been his best friend for close to a decade. 

Compare that outburst of anger and frustration to when he’d walked up to the Reds and Blues. I’m not certain how much time had passed since Grif stormed out of the cave, but he’d obviously had a chance to think things over, and he realized that he just.... couldnt go with them this time. He’d never wanted to be out here in the first place, and now he has a choice. This is really the first choice he could make about his future in at least a decade, probably longer. Probably since his mom left. Note, when he tells Tucker “I can do whatever I want” there’s a slight bubbly-ness to his voice. That realization filled him with a small bit of glee. He has a choice.

He has a choice to not put himself through the mental strain of Church coming back and leaving or dying again. He can chose to go with a team that openly threatens his life (even if its not as much anymore) and openly mocks and belittles him. He has a choice on whether or not to put himself into danger again. 

And I think even as he was saying he quit, Grif was sort of hoping that someone would talk him out of it. Because this is his family, possibly the only one he’s ever properly known. But they dont. They mock him, they insult him, and they call him selfish. 

So, he leaves.

In season 13, I was blown away by how brave Grif was to stand up and say fuck that to dying, and how much growth he as a character had. This season I’m amazed that he had the strength to look at a bad situation and say fuck that I cant put myself in that situation again, I’m leaving. Even if that means leaving family behind.

I honestly cant wait to see how this Refusing the Call gets resolved.