#like no joke all of the problems in the expanse would not even exist if people weren't obsessive about money

[zeichenlily]

So The Expanse = Capitalism and Star trek = non-monetary economy ok great

[webkinzwonders]

Interview with Leonidas Kouvaris

I recently had the honor of interviewing Leonidas Kouvaris, a digital artist and singer for Webkinz. Some of his most popular projects include The Pet of the Month songs and Zum designs. It was an amazing experience to correspond with him directly and gain some more insight into the game. Below is our interview, some words have been changed to fix typos, but for the most part is it word for word. I added some context via images and links to some topics discussed. An unedited transcript of the interview is here.

Do you consent to have the information discussed in this interview to be published on my Tumblr blog (WebkinzWonders) for the purpose of my composition class?

Yes.

What is the timeline of your time at Webkinz, when did you start and stop working there?

I started working at Ganz back in March of 2008, and I left early 2013, so around 5 years total. 

What were your main responsibilities when working at Webkinz?

I was first hired as a digital artist for the Interactive Art department and worked on creating new virtual pets exclusive to the eStore. I also created art assets for the Webkinz games and for Webkinz JR. After about a year I was given the opportunity to design a new series of characters for Webkinz called Zums. These were fairy-like creatures that would exist as both virtual characters on the Webkinz site, and as a product line of plush toys. I eventually worked primarily on product design and marketing for various Ganz properties, including Amazing World and Nakamas. 

From what I can see you are primarily an artist/designer, how did you get involved with the Kinztunes? Were you interested in music or was it just a side project?

Well, it all started out by chance. One day I was working away at my desk when my boss walked in and yelled out for everyone to hear "Who here can sing"? I put my hand up and his first response was "yeah right!", but after convincing him that I wasn't joking he said if I were interested in performing on a Webkinz tune to go visit tour resident sound guy. I love music and this was a great opportunity to get away from my desk, so I got the rundown from the lead sound engineer and we quickly started work on the very first Webkinz Pet Of The Month song. 

We had the lyrics written for us and a general direction...problem was, at the time, there was no formal recording studio on site and so we had to improvise. We found an empty office to record in and in lieu of any proper soundproofing, we ended up draping a Snuggie over my head while I sang. It was a great experience A proper sound recording studio eventually was built as the sound team grew, and I continued to get involved with the production of the Kinz Tunes. All of this extra work would happen during the work day, when I had time from my other responsibilities as a digital artist. I sang, I wrote, I even lent my voice to other projects doing character voices for the Webkinz JR site. I quickly became the go-to person for recording whatever random sound was needed. 

What was your favorite project you did working at Webkinz?

I would have to say that designing the Amazing World vinyl figures is what I am most proud of. I ended up designing three series for the toy line but only the first two ever made it to shelves. The project was canceled pretty soon after launch, along with others including Nakamas and Tail Town. I have to say, working on Kinz Tunes is a close second, as I am still good friends with the sound engineer I met on that first day of recording. I actually just met up with him today to check out a retro arcade in downtown Toronto.

How does Webkinz keep a consistent style since there are various elements of the game? Were there guidelines when designing?

One of the challenges that the Webkinz team faced was trying to keep up with the rapid expansion of the website. Both the coding and the art for the site had to get produced quickly as there were always new features and games to implement. As best as I can remember, Webkinz had one art director from the beginning who created the art style, and it was the Creative Director (the boss for the entire art department) who made sure everything remained on brand. Later on I became a sort of liaison between the art department and marketing, making sure product development was using the same style guides as the Interactive Art department.

What was the work environment like at Webkinz? Was it in-person offices or remote?

The art department itself was pretty drab. Gray cubicles upon gray cubicles, located in the same building that housed the main offices, and warehouse. The people I worked with were amazing. Get a bunch of creative people together in a windowless environment and you got a recipe for crazy times. A lot of dress up days; A lot of desk decorating. I made a lot of friendships from that time. 

What are some projects you’re working on now?

After Ganz I took some time off to do my own thing, creating some animated shorts with characters of my own designing. I then went on to work for a company designing educational games that are featured on the PBS Kids website. A year into the pandemic I was laid off and now I'm revisiting my project and developing it as on a mobile game.

Do you have anything you can show me from your time working there?

I've attached some sketches that show the design process of some of my earlier work at Ganz. I've included the initial concept of the Webkinz Stone Lion, isometric sketches of the Stone Lion, and the final vectored design.

Any questions that I didn’t ask that you think I should know?

Yes, Ganz is actually based in Canada. A lot of people don't know that the head offices are just outside of Toronto, Ontario

That concludes our interview. A huge thank you to Leonidas Kouvaris for taking the time to answer all my questions, I am so appreciative of his time and insight. The information provided is so fascinating, I never would've guessed most of Webkinz was designed in a grey cubical, and the story about KinzTunes made me laugh, I'll be on the lookout for more projects by Leonidas Kouvaris!

[heliads]

Hello <3 i love your writing and your stories, I was wondering if I could make a request for Newt from Maze runner? My idea is that Newt and Reader don't exactly get along, for some reason they are always having some lighthearted discussions and disagreements, but deep down they care about each other, however they do think that one hates the other. Until one day they get stuck together alone for some reason and share a moment, Newt asks why she hates him and she doesn't really know how to answer, and maybe Newt kisses her or something, but she pushes him away because of the surprise. Newt gets sad, like really, because he thought that deep down she didn't actually hated him... Until she comes to make things right and comforts him <3

hrmmm

masterlist

Newt is thinking again. Thinking about her.

This isn’t nearly as rare an occurrence as he would like; although Newt is kept busy day and day out, practically wearing his feet down to the bone from all the times he has to keep racing across the Glade to sort out yet another problem, he somehow always finds the space of mind to keep one person in his head, and one person only:  Y/N.

He shouldn’t be as hopeless as he is. If you face the facts, and Newt would like to clarify that he does try to do that as often as possible, despite all evidence to the contrary, there should be nothing special about his relationship with Y/N. In fact, there isn’t much of a relationship at all. They are both in the same Glade together, yes, both bound by those same desolate stone walls, but they have nothing more in common. 

They don’t talk much, they don’t even do much more than that same awkward half-wave across the grassy fields whenever they have to see each other. By all accounts, Newt should think of her as rarely as he does Aidan or Carl or any of the other boys who have faded into obscurity in the back of Newt’s mind as soon as a few months passed after their arrival to the Glade.

This, however, is not the case. Despite the fact that they almost never spend time together, despite the fact that Y/N seems to be perfectly fine treating Newt as if he were yet another grass or stone to be ignored, he cannot return the favor. Every bone in Newt’s body seems to be attuned to her, and he could sooner forget about the Maze itself than go a day without turning her name over and over in his mind.

It’s not a healthy habit to have, and Newt knows it. If he were smart, he would stop with this infatuation, and either actually talk to her for once or drop the matter entirely. It would be the easiest thing in the world to just end this pointless addiction. Despite the forced proximity of the Glade, Newt has done it countless times with other friends who’d once been like brothers to him and are now nothing more than has-beens, past memories of inside jokes that have long since been forgotten.

He could leave her be, or so he claims. In truth, Newt knows that there’s no way that he could ever really let go of Y/N so quickly. The problem, of course, is that he’s not in this alone. Y/N exists outside of his conscious control, and in all of her free will, she’s decided to hate him.

That’s the worst part of this, Newt decides. It would be one thing if she were merely apathetic towards him and Newt could force himself to realize that it was all in his head, but no. He doesn’t know quite how to put a finger on the matter, but Y/N definitely doesn’t like him. 

When she first arrived at the Glade, Newt would keep coming up to her with a question or a favor to ask or something, anything, but every time she would turn him away. All he would ever get from her was a cold shoulder or a few muttered words’ worth of a functional response. She gave him the bare minimum time after time, and eventually he stopped trying at all.

Now, they regard each other across the expanse of Newt’s known life, all of their interactions hemmed in by the walls of the Maze. Y/N is no longer quite so harsh as she’d been in the beginning, but they’re definitely not friends.

In truth, Newt doesn’t know if it would be better or worse if they were more than this stilted silence. He doesn’t know why he had to go and fall in love with her of all people, the one Glader here who actively hates him, but it’s not like he can do anything about it now. Still, perhaps the crush would hurt even worse if they were closer. Would a forced closeness make his heart ache a duller tune than it does now, or would it turn his bruised feelings into a new sort of death?

In the end, Newt supposes that he’ll never know. All he has is this world, the one in which Y/N barely tolerates him on good days, and it’s not like he can do anything to change that. This has been Newt’s core tenet throughout his entire existence in the Glade, after all. No matter what happens, you grin and bear it. There’s no point in imagining a better, brighter life for yourself, all that does is make your current situation seem even worse than before.

So, Newt buries his feelings yet again, and decides to distract himself with Gally and Dan, two Builders who are trying their hand at finishing yet another new project. Newt isn’t sure why, but the guys seem convinced that what the Glade needs most is a jail. Sure, in the months that boys started appearing within the confines of the Walls there have been a few fights, but surely building an actual penitentiary is a waste of their resources.

Alby, however, seems to think they need it, so the Builders are hard at work. Alby’s been tougher on all of them, especially because in a couple weeks they’ll reach the six months mark of the first boy’s arrival in the Glade. The reality that it may take a long time to escape from this godless Maze, if they ever do, is weighing heavily on everyone, and Alby is no exception.

Thus, when Alby asks Newt to help out with the production of the jail cells, Newt obliges without a single complaint. The last thing Alby needs is someone arguing with him, not when tensions are already so high.

That being said, Newt would much rather supervise the building than actively participate. However, Gally seems to have an eye for when people are suffering, and he asks Newt if he can jump down into the rudimentary cell and see how strong the bars are. Hypothetically, the plan for the so-called Slammer is a concrete cell half-buried in the ground, with an intricate web of bars locking the exit out. Gally needs to make sure the cell won’t be escaped easily, so he’s volunteered Newt to be his jailbreak test subject. Fantastic.

Newt lets himself down into the concrete cube, then squints up at Gally and Dan through the bars. He flashes the two Builders a thumbs up, and they start to lay the mass of tied bars in place. Distantly, Newt wonders how Gally is able to construct a jail so well. Perhaps he’s spent some time in a holding cell of his own before all of this. Newt could definitely picture the guy in cartoon classic handcuffs, after committing some no doubt terrible crime. Maybe murder.

Newt certainly wants to murder Gally after the sun starts to scorch him due to so much time spent standing still. He feels like an ant trapped beneath a giant magnifying glass, and he retreats to the edges of the cell so the shadows can save him from cooking quite so much.

His terrible mood only worsens when Gally calls for someone else to jump down on the opposite side so they can have multiple points of view. Of course, just his luck, Newt’s fellow prisoner is Y/N. They’re sure to have marvelous conversations about how much they can’t stand each other, even if it’s only true for one of them.

At last, Gally takes a step back and looks upon his work with satisfaction. “Alright, you shanks can come out now. I think we’re done here. Seems solid enough to me.”

Newt reaches up to shake the bars. “In case you forgot, Gally, you’re going to have to let us out. You locked us in here, remember?”

Gally’s face flushes a disturbing purple and he sets forward to undo the lock. Newt watches as the Builder’s hand casually reaches for his front pocket so he can get the key, but the fingers come up clutching nothing but air.

“Everything alright?” Newt asks, trying not to sound too alarmed. “You do have the key, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” Gally blusters, but despite rummaging around in his pockets for a while longer he still comes up with nothing.

Eventually, the guy has to admit that he must have misplaced it. Newt fights the urge to groan with irritation. It would be just like Gally to leave him in here for a while, wouldn’t it?

“Sit tight,” Gally orders, “I’ll get one of the Builders to make us a new key. Hey, this is just extra proof that the cell works, right?”

He disappears before Newt can do something tempting, like launch a chunk of concrete at the other boy’s head. Newt watches him go, then slowly turns around to face the other occupant of the cell with the air of a gladiator watching a lion approach him, paws and jowls bloody. He forgot about that part in all the kerfuffle, but he’s still locked in a very small cell with Y/N, someone who pretty much wants him dead. This day just keeps getting better and better.

“Well,” he tries for a smile, “Looks like we’ll be in here for a while.”

Y/N nods slowly. “He’d better find that key fast, or I’m going to have some words with him.”

Her expression is so severe that Newt finds himself chuckling. “Sorry,” he apologizes immediately, “It’s just, well, I don’t know that Gally has ever really responded well to words. They kind of fly right over his head.”

To his surprise, she cracks a smile. “Well, it’s either my words or one of Frypan’s knives, and I think Alby would like it better if I didn’t immediately land myself back in this cell for attempted murder.”

Newt shakes his head solemnly. “He wouldn’t have to know. I wouldn’t rat you out, we’d be conspirators.”

Y/N smiles at that. “Sounds good to me. I’ll make the kill, you hide the body?”

“I’ll bury him in the Track-Hoe plots,” Newt ventures, “None of them do enough work to ever find him.”

“Better yet,” Y/N counters, “Throw him down the Box Hole. That way we can act surprised if his body ever returns.”

Newt grimaces. “I don’t like how easily you came up with that. Have you been plotting Gally’s death for a while now?”

Y/N laughs. “Who hasn’t?”

She’s got him there, and Newt admits as much. He lets himself really treasure this moment, the two of them smiling in the golden sunlight. Truth be told, Newt never thought he’d be able to have such a simple and pure moment with her. For once, Y/N isn’t trying to avoid him or anything like that, they’re just enjoying each other’s company. It’s so easy to do that Newt wonders why they’ve never been able to manage it before.

The words tumble out of him before Newt can stop himself. “Why do you hate me?”

Y/N stares at him, evidently bewildered by the sudden change in conversation. Newt hurries to explain himself, or perhaps just dig himself into an even deeper hole.

“I mean, we’ve never really talked like this. I tried a few months ago, but you’d always walk away or reject me. No one else has such a strong reaction to me, but you do. Why?”

Y/N swallows hard, then looks away. “I don’t know,” she says softly, but Newt gets the feeling that isn’t quite true.

He walks closer to her, forcing her to look at him. “Really,” he says, “I just want to know. I want to know what I can do to have days like this happen more often.”

Newt’s eyes flicker to her lips before he knows what he’s doing. Y/N realizes it too, but instead of backing away, she leans infinitesimally closer. It’s all his perilous heart needs to convince him to close the distance between them and kiss her.

She jerks away immediately, and Newt could throw himself into the Box Hole in his anger. What was he thinking? They were barely talking, and he thinks he gets the right to kiss her.

“I’m really sorry,” he begins, but Y/N starts talking over him.

“Wait–it’s not–” 

She takes a deep breath to try and control herself, but in the meantime Newt’s mind is racing at a thousand thoughts a second. Some part of him hadn’t truly believed she hated him, but even if she was feeling neutrally about him before, she’ll really hate him now. Why would he kiss her? Sure, Newt has been wanting to do such a thing for a long time, but he’d never slip up like this. What is it about these close quarters, the lack of prying eyes, that makes him want her and nothing else?

Y/N has started talking again, but Newt barely hears the first few sentences. He starts to calm down after a while longer, though. Something about listening to her makes his breathing slow, his temper even.

“It’s not what you think, Newt,” she says, “I don’t hate you. I never have.”

Newt laughs sardonically. “Well, you have a fine way of showing it.”

Y/N sighs. “I know, and you have every right to be mad at me. I haven’t been mad at you, Newt, I’ve been afraid. Afraid that if I talked to you half as much as I wanted to, or let myself smile with you like this, you would realize it.”

Newt’s breathing is shallow. “Realize what?”

Her voice is quiet, barely audible above the hum of insects in the air around the cell. “That I loved you.”

Newt feels as if the floor beneath his feet has opened up, letting him spiral into empty air. He’s falling, flying, but the only thing keeping him from fully committing to a plunge through the sky is Y/N’s eyes, still locked on his.

“You love me?” He asks, scarcely daring to believe his own words.

She nods once. “It wasn’t hard to fall at first. Everyone likes you, Newt, even if you haven’t realized it. You make people feel important. I knew from the second I saw you that you would wreck my life if I let you. The only problem is that the Glade isn’t somewhere you can lose yourself, so I had to keep my distance so I wouldn’t fall completely into pieces. I never wanted you to think I hated you, I just wanted to do everything I could from losing myself over you.”

Newt stays still even after she finishes speaking, just trying to make all of the pieces of the picture line up again. It finally makes sense, all of it. Her distance, his feelings, how none of them ever went without reciprocation. All along, they’ve both been in love, yet neither of them realized it until now.

Newt reaches his hand up, gently tracing the curve of her cheek. “Does that mean I can kiss you again?”

She blesses him with a quiet smile and a nod. This time, it’s perfect. The sun heats her skin to a blissful fire, gently sparking against his lips until he feels everything and nothing, all at once. Newt would gladly stay there forever, were it not for the fact that he can hear the Builders approaching a few paces away.

Newt grumbles against her lips. “Of course they pick now to actually be productive.”

Y/N laughs, and kisses him one last time before pulling away. “Well, I’m not entirely sure that’s their fault.”

She pulls something out of her pocket with a wink, and Newt sees a brief shine of metal before she tucks it away again.

“Is that the key to the cell?” He asks, stunned.

Y/N grins. “I needed a chance to talk to you, something where I knew for certain that none of your friends would be watching. I couldn’t exactly leave that up to chance, could I?”

Gally is looming overhead now, flinging open the bars with a flourish. Y/N stands up as if nothing could be the matter at all, and Newt watches her with stunned awe. She pulls herself out of the cell, then reaches a hand back down to him.

“Well?” She asks through a smile, “Aren’t you coming?”

At this moment, Newt realizes that he’s in terrible trouble. It’s not good to think that he might follow her anywhere, through any danger, but he would. He’s well and truly lost on her. For once, it doesn’t seem like such a bad thing.

tmr tag list: @rogueanschel, @ellobruv, @retvenkos, @neewtmas, @thatfangirl42, @hiya-its-amber, @gods-fools-heroes

[monkey-network]

Every Tyler the Creator Album Ranked

And then, out of the bleu, I listened to every album from the predictably unpredictable Tyler, the Creator. Frankly, I only knew him best from Loiter Squad and The Jellies with the occasional cameo via Regular Show and Axe Cop. It was last Fall where I started listening to music more, eventually going Tyler's full discography. Here we are now, recognizing his game, getting surprised in more ways than one, and going through his albums from good to peak. Don't take this as a "worst to best" ranking, I will confidently say he has no bad records. But, gotta discuss one thing though before we get to the list and that is...

0. The Grinch Album

Back in 2018, Tyler was commissioned to make a couple songs for Illumination's Grinch movie. They were okay even though they wasted his version of "You're a Mean One" on the opening minutes instead of the part that matter. It was in the same year that he made an EP with songs inspired by the movie that weren't used in said movie, just something Tyler was into doing. It's only six songs, ten minutes and change, but it's breezy while not being annoying about the Holidays. I'd overall say, since it came beforehand, the EP's great in getting a feel of IGOR's instrumentals but with a more upbeat tone. You can really tell Pharrell Williams was a big influence to Tyler here, coincidentally since Pharrell made songs for Illumination and a couple of these Grinch songs resemble his works in a way. If I were to rank it, it'd be number 6. Way too short to fairly ranked among the others but admittedly memorable compared to the bottom 2. With that said, NOW let's do this...

7. Cherry Bomb

Again none of these are bad albums, and I say this was a very important one for Tyler's career. Cherry Bomb is to Tyler what Vaudeville Villain was for MF DOOM. After the Wolf Trilogy, this was him popping off one more time like the old days before coming to terms with where he wanted to go next, you notice with how things mellow out halfway in. You get how his direction in music shifted while not feeling ashamed of what used to be his initial style; Flower Boy wouldn't have worked without this and I can see why it's Tyler's personal favorite. With that said, most the tracks aren't as memorable as the later albums on this list. 'Deathcamp' is a fierce bop opener, I love 'Find Your Wings', 'Okaga, CA' and '2Seater', but man it can be a tonal mess that doesn't reach the same highs. Plus it's the one where I can say the mixing is weird; like some vocals feel muffled and the production sounds unintentionally worse than Goblin. The titular 6th song I just hate, personally the all time worst song he's ever made and it's not close. Not as great an album as I'd hoped, but to dismiss this album would feel wrong as it exists no differently to Tyler's growth as a artist. Change ain't easy, y'know.

6. Goblin

Yeah, even I can't deny this is the weakest of the Wolf trilogy. It's better than Cherry Bomb in that it has a... more consistent flow, but that leads into my biggest problem. Goblin feels too same-y and just a messier expansion to Bastard. 'Yonkers' I'm amazed got the praise it did when I could tell Tyler made it as a joke; emblematic of his career I guess. Still, when it hits it hits, we got 'She', 'Tron Cat', "Nightmare', 'Windows', and you get into it better than Cherry Bomb. Now I'm one of those crackpots that thinks of this, where if you ever get into Tyler's music, I recommend Goblin after Wolf where you'll understand the latter more but listening to Goblin then Wolf as naturally ordered will play out like an edited timeline story if listened to all at once. Goblin overall feels like that middle child where it fits the time it was released but hasn't aged as well as its siblings.

5. Scum Fuck Flower Boy

This is probably blaspheme but it is one of those cases where this is great but the next few albums are just better to me by comparison. I can appreciate this album more after listening to Cherry Bomb; the neo soul heavily leaning from CB's latter half songs. The vibes are more chill but retains those underlying somber feelings like previous albums. This felt like he refined his style; Tyler got to loosen up lyrically & it's all a mood. At the same time, I didn't grow up with this album while I wish I did. It just doesn't resonate with me as much while I do grasp how the Creator was feeling when he made this. Best way to describe is that I could see the characters that exist in the albums; I can see Wolf Haley, Baudelaire, IGOR, etc. It's hard seeing Flower Boy himself because he feels that overshadowed between his works of the past and future. Again not like I didn't understand, just that it wasn't as impactful as I'd hoped. Don't take this as a negative, because this is just how strong Tyler's music can be for me.

4. Bastard

I genuinely tend to switch between Bastard and Wolf as to which is number 3. For Wolf, it's with the storytelling and the composition that's done better. For Bastard, it's the energy and unfiltered fun with it being Tyler's first mixtape. I was taken aback initially on the contents of this like I will not call it "horrorcore" but it's like JESUS christ; can't even tell you what's on this for the fear of getting flagged. However, I say Tyler's music gets better with re-listens. Bastard feels like the title lives up to the name; Ace and Odd Future making bangers together, flippin' birds to the sky, and the titular track laying out that it isn't just shock value for the sake of it. This feels like the album Tyler would always want to make starting out, with that no fucks given confidence being the foundation of him exploring his troubles with love and developing a career. Basically, the "Fatherless Behavior album" as my friend pointed out that blessfully hasn't aged like milk given the man's future livelihood. I enjoy Bastard for its garage appeal and this being where Tyler got to start out before 'Yonkers' pushed him to stardom.

3. Wolf

This to me has the best storytelling in Tyler's discography. I like that it kinda tricks you in terms of what the perspective is for the album's concept. You could say this is about Wolf Haley himself finding some peace after Goblin and getting in the love triangle with Samuel and Salem. You could say this was more Samuel's album while Wolf is mostly out the picture hanging with Salem. Either way works with Tyler's growth considering this is far less shocking than Goblin and Bastard combined. You can tell while Samuel exists as the remaining edginess of Tyler's past, he's cooled down with the graphical lyrics for a different approach to his music; 'Answer' and 'PartyIsntOver' shows his softer tune that fits the album's camp aesthetic. Again, this and Bastard I will flip ranks on certain days, but I can see why it's the fan favorite among the initial three.

2. Call Me If You Get Lost

From what I've seen before listening, I figured that this would be a flex album and Tyler did not disappoint. Tyler Baudelaire felt like a real persona, I'd say the evolution of Wolf Haley with DJ Drama being the cherry on top. I think this wouldn't have worked as well without the hypeman, not only for being a great jab at DJ Khalid after the one sided beef back in 2018 but an enjoyable narrator that I couldn't imagine any other for the spot. Call Me is just the epitome of swagger, the time where Tyler can finally gun out with his rap skills while it's not full on chest beating. Like his previous albums, it explores his love life and how he works out his feelings when things don't go right. Felt like Tyler at his most vulnerable, especially with 'Wilshire' that's the longest song if you don't count the notable conjoined tracks like 'Sugar/I Thought You Wanted to Dance'. When you recognize growth, this album was it. Incorporating his previous albums into this, utilizing his ability to make banger after banger. That's if you don't count The Estate Sale, basically a victory lap upon the existing victory lap that was the base album. When I say 'Sorry, Not Sorry' was the pinnacle of Tyler's whole career I mean it. Call Me If You Get Lost felt like a celebration, where you're with Tyler in how much he's living life. This seriously would've been number 1 with or without Estate Sale, if not for...

1. IGOR

Might as well say it now: it's his magnum opus. I've brought up a couple times now that Tyler's music can be messy and that can apply here, more on a emotional level than technical. Here though, that's what makes it perfect. This album is about the love you had being pulled and eventually crushed, and it's not around to sugarcoat. What helps it stick out is knowing IGOR exists as his own being, not just a persona of Tyler. He embodies how we all can feel when it comes to heartbreak and how ugly the emotions can actually be. This wouldn't have worked without 'New Magic Wand', without 'What's Good' or 'I Don't Love You Anymore'. Tyler's music, from what I've recognize, has always been taking ugly with the beauty you can find and this is that note perfected. Being the shortest album of the collection, this album's ergonomic where I can hardly listen to one song on its own and was the record I've listened to the most because it got better every time. This isn't even accounting for 'Are We Still Friends', which I've considered the all-time greatest closer I've ever listened to. It brings me to actual tears every time and it's like everything clicked. This felt like more than just Tyler proving himself as the Creator, but him respecting the oldheads of music with this neo-soul masterpiece.

Conclusion

Tyler's music is the first instance I truly grasped what he meant by each album pinpointing the certain periods of his life. Listening to his works in order, you understand his growth as an musician without it ever feeling out of nowhere. What I love most is that you can tell he constantly had fun producing; the confidence he always has even at his worst can't be understated. It feels like Tyler got to grow up on his own terms, never taking his success for granted and becoming the most prolific artist I've known next to Kendrick and Dre. Having caught up, I'm genuinely interested in his next direction because hell, what else is there to say?

He's the Best

[heronchildlove]

Soulmate AU? With words maybe?? Or shared dreams?? Writers choice. :-)

I keep joking I only get angst prompts, but this one was definitely not meant to be angsty, and I went and made it angsty anyway, I’m sorry nonnie. (It’s me, I’m the problem) Also, the concept I came up with for this was way too expansive to fit in a drabble, so take this more like a prologue, and I promise I’ll revisit this concept another day, possibly after I finish the current long fic project I’m working on.

Hope you like it anyway, nonnie!

~~//~~

James knew the moment it happened.

No one knew exactly how it happened, but you weren't born with a soulmate. The universe would assign you one when you were ready, whatever that meant. Someone that would challenge you, make you grow, be your best friend and partner for life.

James wanted one badly, so he was constantly writing on his hand. When the universe deemed you ready, you and your soulmate would be connected, and you'd be able to start communicating through writing on your skin. Whatever you wrote on yourself, would disappear and appear on the other person on the same spot, and vice versa.

He had spent the last couple of years since he had become a teenager writing greetings on the back of his hand and watching with growing disappointment as the words stubbornly stuck around until he cleaned them with water. So when he had sat down for his first lesson at the Academy, picking up the pen and writing the word on himself had been more habit than anything else.

When the words actually disappeared, he was so startled he almost fell off his chair.

Luckily, only a few people noticed and snickered. After his disastrous first day, and being late to class that morning, he hardly needed to give others any more reason to laugh at him.

But that was mostly unimportant at the moment. He turned his hand around a few times, trying to see if the words hadn't just somehow slid off to the other side, but no, they really weren't there anymore! He really had a soulmate!

His heart racing madly, he looked around, trying to see if anyone in his class showed any reactions, but everyone was engrossed in their notes. He gave a sigh of relief. He didn’t know how he would feel about his soulmate being among his Academy classmates when they all so clearly detested him. He would hate to have someone feel forced to be nice to him just because they had found out they were soulmates, after all, that was never what he wanted.

A crazy thought ensnared him. No, it couldn’t be, could it? He picked up his pen again and wrote on the back of his hand:

Grace?

…

No

His breath caught again and his heart beat madly. So maybe it wasn’t Grace, but his soulmate was real, they existed. He picked up his pen again and wrote in a different place in his hand.

I’m James. And you?

There was no answer. He never got an answer, even if he kept asking other questions throughout the class. In the end, he just gave up and put his head in his arms, pretending to be sleeping in class to hide the fact he was crying.

He knew it. Who would ever want to be his soulmate anyway?

---

Matthew knew the moment it happened, and, in the end, that was the problem.

He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off James Herondale ever since their parents had first introduced them, all those years ago. It was hard, as James detested attention and tended to disappear during the enclave’s parties and all family functions, while Matthew was loathe to leave the centre of attention. Every time he managed to find a break and set out to locate James, the other had already disappeared.

He had been so happy to bump into him at the Academy’s gardens, and to find out he was also a fan of Oscar Wilde. It was finally his chance to befriend James, but then stupid Alastair Carstairs had gotten in the way… No, even before that, it seemed like him and James were somehow not seeing eye to eye, and in the end James had gotten completely mad at him. So mad he had run away from their room before Matthew even had a chance to set things right and had been ignoring him ever since.

It was completely disheartening. It was the first time he had ever fumbled so badly on a first meeting that he had driven the person away from him instead of drawing them closer; and, of course, it had to be exactly with the person he had been wanting to befriend for years now. He was completely at a loss of what to do.

If he hadn’t been studying James with such intensity, trying to figure out how to approach him that day to apologise, he would have missed it, and he might have made a completely different decision. But the way it was, he could see clearly from the row just behind him as James wrote a greeting on his hand, and as the words disappeared from James’ skin and reappeared on his own.

Matthew’s world stopped for a moment and then started turning again in stark clarity, the pieces of a puzzle falling into place. So that was the reason he had always felt so drawn to James, even with barely knowing aside from his parents’ stories. Because they were soulmates. They were – and always had been – meant to be together.

A smile started appearing on his face, and he looked back at James expectantly, waiting to see if he would notice him too and that’s when he saw it:

James taking a look around the classroom, and then promptly sighing in relief when it seemed like none of his classmates were the ones that shared his bond.

It made Matthew’s world crack under his feet and he was reminded, suddenly and starkingly, that James absolutely hated him.

He couldn’t do this, he couldn’t come out as James’ soulmate and watch him stare at him with disappointment and disgust. Watch him go against his own real feelings to try to treat him well just out of duty due to them being soulmates, that wasn’t how he wanted to do this. That was never what he wanted.

And then, the final nail in the coffin, the next word his soulmate wrote for him was a name, and not his own:

Grace?

He didn’t know who Grace was, but did it even matter? James was clearly hoping his soulmate was her, he was clearly already in love with someone else. What kind of monster would he have to be to announce himself and demand feelings from someone that didn’t reciprocate them and wouldn’t want to reciprocate them either way?

The kind he would never want to be.

Still, it felt even more cruel to give James false hope. So he scribbled back a quick “no”, making sure no one saw him – the first and last word he would ever write to his soulmate. It was somehow rather fitting.

He put his gloves back on so no one could see the words on his skin until he had a chance to go and wash them, feeling sick the more he watched James write on himself over and over again and wait for an answer that would never come.

It was for the best. People could be – and were – happy with people that weren’t their soulmates all the time. James would finish the Academy and go back to this Grace girl and be happily ever after and forget this day had ever happened, and Matthew… he would find a way, as well. He would go quietly into darkness to not even risk ruining James’ happiness in any way.

After all, what was he even expecting? Who would even want to be his soulmate anyway?

[scientiastudy]

Seafoam (Platonic!Ignoct)

Maybe it’s childish, selfish even, but he doesn’t want this. He never wanted any of this. 

Pairing: Platonic Ignoct

Rating: G

Content: Angst, hurt/comfort, grief, fix-it

Word count: 1.7k

Author's note: Okay so this is something a little different but I've been thinking non-stop about this stupid game and my stupid little brain won't rest so this came out.

The cool sea breeze dances around Noctis as he stares out at the dark expanse of the sea. Moonlight glitters off the waves serenely, the repetitive ebb and flow of the tide echoing in his ears. He’s sat on a rock at the edge of Galdin Quay’s expansive beach, the chill of the night air seeping into his bones. 

He tilts his head back and inhales deeply, grounding himself in the scent of the salty and fresh sea air. He isn’t quite sure how long he’s been out here since he left his phone in the hotel room, needing to get away. He isn’t exactly supposed to be out on his own, what with the war and all, but he needs to be grounded, to be alone. 

He can’t stand how Prompto and Ignis stared at him in pity all day. Gladio had even let him take a day off training, leaving him to his own devices in his room. Prompto had done his best to cheer him up, cracking jokes and offering him the new loot he’d gotten in King’s Knight. But there was nothing that could be said that would make this easier. 

Whatever this is. 

In just hours he’d lost everything he’s ever known. A few days ago he’d never left Insomnia, and now it’s lost to him unless he performs an impossible task. 

He’d been groomed for this moment his entire life, picked apart and reconstructed in the image of some vague words from a centuries-old prophecy. Maybe it’s childish, selfish even, but he doesn’t want this.

He never wanted any of this. 

He didn’t want to watch his father sacrifice his own life every day as that stupid fucking ring sucked the life from the man who had raised him. He didn’t want to spend his days buried in history books and math problems until his head spun. He didn’t want to be followed by servants, trainers, aristocrats, and nannies alike every second of his day. 

He wanted to be like the other boys in school, the ones who got to go home and play video games. They went home to the loving arms of their parents, doing sports and hanging out until the sun went down. They joked about dropping out and failing classes, carefree as they graduated to their normal 9-to-5 jobs. They’d get to choose their wife, choose if they even have kids. 

Not him.

On days like this, he would give anything to be those boys. He would give anything to be a boy. Not a prince, not a king, not the Chosen King, but a boy. 

Instead, the weight of an entire kingdom presses down on his shoulders on top of the cosmic weight of his loss. He almost feels like the Archean, holding the weight of his grief to keep from crushing him. He’d become an orphan and a king in the same instant, his entire world tipping on its axis.

He’d been preparing for this day his entire life. His father’s early demise had been an unfortunate inevitability, whether it be from the toll keeping up the barrier inflicted on his body or from an incursion by the Empire. His entire childhood had been spent cramming as much knowledge into him as possible, trying to make the small feet of a child fill the boots of a king.

Nothing could have prepared him for this, to feel so small in front of such insurmountable odds. To be alone, truly alone, for the first time in his life. 

The way everyone’s eyes fell on him made his skin crawl. They look at him as a pitiful king, a shithead kid who got thrown in the deep end. He wants to prove them wrong, but he knows he can’t. 

He’s barely a respectable prince. He shirks his training more than he should, being dragged out of bed by Ignis or Gladio every morning like a petulant child. He’s a boy in the shape of a prince, still searching for childhood and freedom that don’t exist. 

Out here he can disappear into the darkness, fading away like a shadow. Closing his eyes, he can pretend he’s just a part of the black night. He lets the darkness cocoon him like a blanket and feels himself shrink until he’s nothing more than a marble in his mind’s eye.  

He’s brought back to reality by the sound of footsteps shuffling through the sand and sighs in annoyance knowing his time is done. 

“Noct.” Ignis’s voice cuts through the darkness, hard and chastising in a way that makes his charge’s chest tense whenever he hears it.

“What?” Noct snaps back, automatically retracting into his shell as his retainer approaches. 

“You know better than this,” The retainer retorts, annoyance and anger tinging his voice. “To galavant off on your own during such dangerous times is irresponsible at best and suicidal at worst.”

“I wouldn’t need to ‘galavant off’ if you guys weren’t breathing down my neck 24/7,” He replies, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation. “Has it ever occurred to you that being surrounded by people gets suffocating sometimes?” 

“Of course it has!” Ignis responds, his voice rising slightly. “But you have no choice. You are King of Lucis, you need to begin acting like it!”

“You think I don’t fucking know that?” Noct yells back, his voice breaking. “It’s only been everything I’ve been taught to be for the last twenty fucking years!” 

Ignis softens at this, uncrossing his arms as his prince continues. It’s rare to see Noct so vulnerable and raw, unobscured by the blase mask he puts on for the outside world.

“Everything I knew is gone and now I have to live up to some insane prophecy I didn’t even ask to be part of or everyone is going to die,” Tears well in Noctis’s eyes as he paces around the beach, his hands digging into his dark hair. Ignis wants to reach out to him, to soothe him like he has so many times before. It almost physically hurts to watch Noctis like this but he knows the younger needs to get it out, to release the emotions like a volatile tidal wave, or else all they will do is fester.

“I don’t want any of this.”

In this moment he looks so infinitesimally small, shrinking into himself with tears shining in the corners of his eyes. He looks the same as when Ignis had seen him first break down when he was young. He had been eight years old on the floor of his room bawling about how he ‘doesn’t want Daddy to die,’ after Regis had first collapsed from the effort of maintaining the barrier. 

The same face he had seen that day is staring back at him, and he feels a surge of protectiveness rise in him like a wave. He strides slowly forward, taking Noctis by the shoulder and wordlessly embracing him as the younger boy buries his face in his shoulder.

He rubs his hand gently along Noctis’s back as the younger finally breaks down, sobbing like a child into his shoulder. His heart clenches at the way his prince’s hands clench onto his nightshirt as he cries, choked sobs muffled from where his face is buried against Ignis’s shoulder. 

“I can’t do it,” Noct heaves out, his body collapsing fully against his retainer as tears flow in wet rivulets down his face. 

“You can,” Ignis says gently, his hand gently smoothing over Noct’s unruly hair. “We will find a way when you are ready. You have risen to every challenge before this, and I’m confident you will do it again.”

This response seems to only amplify the younger man’s distress, his hands clenching tighter into Ignis’s nightshirt and his jaw so tense the tendons visibly move beneath the wet skin of his cheek. Ignis is familiar with this shadow of doubt and self-sabotage. It’s the one that creeps in when exam season happens and Noctis always assumes he failed no matter how hard he studied. It’s the same one that makes him shirk his training with Gladio, instead opting to hide at Prompto’s playing King’s Knight until one of his retainers can pry him out. After all, if he sets expectations so low, who is there to disappoint?

And yet he so dearly wants to live up to their expectations. Ignis saw the way Noctis always preened under praise, especially from the King. He’s constantly caught in a war between his own selfish desires and the needs of the kingdom, and Ignis wishes so dearly Noct could be selfish, just this once.

They’re all in positions of service and sacrifice, but Noctis is so young with so much on his shoulders. He’s a boy who needs to become a king under impossible circumstances. There is no room for selfishness in the cruel reality they’ve been granted.

Noctis’s sobs have died down to a quiet stream of tears, quiet sniffing drowned out by the drone of the waves. His hands still hold Ignis close, gently shaking. 

“Do you trust me, Noct?” 

The question seems to catch the prince off guard, curious red-rimmed eyes peering up at Ignis. 

“Of course I do, what kind of question is that?” He replies, his voice still thick with tears. 

“Then trust in me that I will ensure you are up to the task. Have I ever failed you before?” This seems to stun Noctis, the gears in his head visibly turning as he slowly forms a reply.

“No,” He replies hesitantly, one of his hands dropping from Ignis’s shirt.

“Then trust that I will see my duty through. Can you do that?” 

There’s a pregnant pause while Noctis mulls over the thought in his mind, nervously gnawing his bottom lip absentmindedly.

“Okay.” Is all the prince replies, and Ignis considers that a win. He rubs Noct’s back as he directs him back towards the hotel. 

“Let’s get you warmed up then, hm? I can’t see my duty through if you catch a cold out here.” 

“‘Kay.” 

“And Noctis?”

“Yes?”

“Disappear like this again and it will be Gladiolus I send to fetch you.”

[imperial-nuisance-rudje]

Thinking about it, I think part of the reason why I just did not give a fuck about furthering msq despite knowing I was on a timer (besides, like, just really disliking a character who keeps getting screen time where I am not allowed to tell him we are Not Friends and the writers do not see his flaws at all and it makes me want to push him into the fucking sea)

Knowing that there would be a complete lack of characters I actually have a shit about

Most of my favorites are in optional content, and the writers are just fucking allergic to using their new tools to bring in characters from sidequests even when it actively weakens the writing (current msq and the Warring Triad characters, for instance)

So I do optional content, find charcaters I like, annnnnnnd then once i finish it they're banished to the fucking abyss, never to be seen again

Why the fuck would I want to see more of the story when so far it's just Hey Remember FFIV, Also Watch Us Pretend The Gulf Between How We Treat Zenos And How We Treat Other Villains Who Are Just As Bad If Not Worse Doesn't Exist if they're not even going to bring in my son Unukalhai for a cameo?

Like. I actively hate one current member of the scions enough that his presence in one of the sidequests makes me not want to unlock the alliance raids once I scrap together enough cash to resub, and most of the rest are either so fucking boring I can't bring myself to give a shit about them or aren't given enough screen time to really shine. Why would I give a fuck about the msq when that's the primary cast? They're not even allowed to have actual conflict with each other, so they stay boring!

I just... wish they'd stop writing around the time bubble at least for the expansion before last, so that we could see optional content characters again.

Obligatory "please microchip our catdad he wandered off after RDM 70 and we can't find him :(" joke, but also. I want to see Rielle grow up. I want Sid to be a prickly soft-hearted bastard. I want Esteem and Myste to speak up again. The bard boys at least had a brief cameo in EW but I want more of them. I want to see my BLM buddies. If they're not going to expand on the extant questlines they're in, my only option left is MSQ.

I dunno. Like... I get why this is happening, but it's also increasingly one of my biggest problems with the writing. There's big threads all over the place they won't touch bc it's in a place nobody has seen.

Im more negative about it than usual but that's because I'm just in a bad mood and I'm trying to purge it, hence the "no this ramble goes under a readmore". Like, im hoping Dawntrail pleasantly surprises me in many regards! Buuuuut im not holding my breath, because they have this many expansions of not actually looking at optional stuff when writing the msq (the beep vs middy stuff was established in msq, remember) and it's... not something they're going to overturn without an explicit timeskip at this point, and they're so afraid of aging up the twins that they're probably never going to do that.

Bleh.

[morgana-ren]

and a funny question, who does tomura like his reader or his video game better?

Ideally, he wants both!

That's not to say that Tomura is going to turn down a girl that isn't into video games- he never thought he'd have a girlfriend at all so this is a fantastic problem to have- but it would be even better to have a girl who can game with him. It's his release, how he vents out various frustrations and clearly something he learned how to utilize when he was young to cope and enjoy himself. He’s been seen multiple times strategizing in video game format, so I think it’s safe to say that it’s fairly important.

If you're not a gamer, that's okay too, but he is going to try and get you into it. Show you some of his favorite games and try to teach you how to play. For your birthday or some other occasion, he'll buy you a console or a laptop in the hopes that you'll play it in your free time and take a liking to it.

If you don’t, cool. But he’s still going to play his. 

I think the best way to put it is that he loves you both in very different ways. He loves his console and his pc, but he’s not going to try and fuck them (though he has been lonely and drunk enough to joke about it before). 

Don’t be one of those chicks that tries to get him to put the habit aside entirely because 1) Why would you want to? He enjoys so little, let him have one little goddamn thing, and 2) he’s not going to take kindly to it. 

It’s totally plausible for your relationship and his video game habit to co-exist. He just might ask some odd things and do some goofy shit.

Here’s a little list for funsies. 

Letting him rant and rave to you about his current fixation. 

Stealing you goofy game related shit from games you mention more than once or seem to remember because he thinks you’ll like them since you clearly remember it.

Even if you’re not really interested in games, he’ll still offer to buy you new ones he likes and grind them and offer to play them with you, basically power-leveling you to see if you grow to enjoy it.

Taking you to the local game shop and hanging out while he browses (and him telling you to fucking relax when you tense as he steals whatever it is he decided on, because fuck the establishment).

Him listening to video game OSTs when he’s trying to focus or just relaxing in general.

Cosplaying as one of his favorite characters. 

Roleplaying as one of his favorite characters. 

Letting him fuck you while you do those things.

Blowing him while he plays online (time honored classic)

Having you ride him while he plays.

Him finding a casual way to work into unrelated conversation that he has a girlfriend to gamers online who honestly don’t give a shit.

Wanting to ‘place a bet’ on a match and winner takes all (I’ll give ya one guess on what he wants to bet for.)

Taking you out on the rare occasions he goes in public to go to cons for releases he’s into

Dude watches video game youtubers. Sorry if you’re not into that. 

Goofy gamer lingo. 

Absolutely horrible gamer pillow talk.

Someone please tell this man it’s not sexy to tell you you’re poggers after cumming (lmao)

Relating a lot of things back to whatever game in particular he’s playing with. 

You’re not gunna convince me this man doesn’t play super modded sims on the lowdown and has some nasty shit happenin’. 

Gettin’ a wee bit flustered when you stumble across his.. uh.. expansive mods folder for certain games and sites he has bookmarked. 

It’s ironic. It was as a joke. He swears. 

haha unless...

[celestialsaturn]

🌃The Descendant:🌃

The Astrology of attraction pt.1:

What aspects and placements should we look at in order to find our soulmate?

Our journey begins ironically, at the end.

The descendant:

Your descendant symbolises what you innately desire when it comes to romantic relationships, what provides balance. If you’re curious as to see what you or your crush’s type might be, this is the post for you 😃😋

Note: The descendant symbolises what you need rather than what you might think you want. It’s about bridging the gap. Keep this in mind.

Aries descendant/Libra ascendant:

🐛You watch as the scales tip precariously, hurriedly throwing away the few remaining pieces of yourself that you’ve been saving in your pocket, in efforts to maintain your version of equilibrium, it’s only upon looking down from the oppressive structure of your own design do you realise that they’ve been there all along, catching all of the parts you deemed unworthy like precious snowflakes. The scales are balanced now and somehow they’re in your favour.

🦋You might get caught up in the taxing motions of trying to please everyone around you, constantly putting everyone else’s needs and opinions above your own. Therefore, You might be attracted to those who are loud and outspoken, who easily stand up for those they love and what they are passionate about. They have no problem rocking the boat and setting clear boundaries.

🐛There is something about the fire burning behind their eyes that draws you in. Their rebellious streak, crooked smirk and carefree attitude is awe worthy.

🦋To conclude: you might be attracted to Feisty, bold and active go-getters who inspire you to stop putting your value in the hands of others, and start living for yourself.

Taurus Descendant Scorpio Ascendant:

🕷Being an iconic, independent femme-fatale is a tiring job, it’s hard having everyone fall to your feet,, doesn’t make walking any easier to say the least. But as you push aside the amorphous mass of admirers , you realise that though you’ve built a wall around you, you want someone that’s willing to break it down brick by brick to see the real you.

🕸You are highly receptive and intuitive and this is what causes you to be quite guarded, as you know most don’t have the best intentions. Therefore, you are attracted to the trustworthy, reliable and kind.

🕷Soft teddy bears who are your anchor when you start drowning in a sea of assumptions and jumped-to conclusions. They bring you back to shore carrying you upon their dependable shoulders as dependable people do, and revive you with a fresh breath of reality.

🕸Just overall, you want a genuine person with the kindest eyes who you can call in the middle of the night when it all gets too much, so they can lull you back to sleep with soothing reassurance and solid advice.

Gemini Descendant Sagittarius Ascendant:

🐁As you flit your eyes over the crowd, you begin to realise you’re searching for something, something deeper than hollow small talk and stale jokes on a strangers couch, at a party you have no business being at. You stare intently into the sea of friends and acquaintances but none of the faces register, nothing holds meaning here, you want more.

🐀You need someone to answer the millions of questions that you mull over at night, and even if they can’t they’ll still take the dive with you exploring the depths of the universe, whilst holding your hand 🤢.

🐁You need someone who is open minded, someone who is willing to believe in just about anything because,,, well, why not??? Who are we to pretend that we have all the answers? Someone who gets your weird and some might even say,,,untimely jokes but they get it, that’s how we deal with life around here— with laughter.

🐀In conclusion: you just want an intelligent free spirited soul with your love for travel and learning. Who doesn’t try to tie you down, who would rather embark on all of your journeys with you, and proves that love can truly be expansive and engulfing at the same time.

Cancer Descendant Capricorn Ascendant:

🌑You gaze out the ceiling to floor windows of one of the hundred skyscrapers in the city, so strikingly dull it hurts. You’re working late again, you can hear the monotonous murmur of your coworkers futile attempts to bring you back to speed about the riveting second quarter budget, but your eyes have once again locked upon the moon it always seems to call out to you and who are you to dare look away.

🌕You need someone willing to sand down your edges with their gentle and nurturing spirit. Someone that recognises all that you do to be a reliable and hard working individual, but simultaneously makes you realise you’re so much more than that. You’re so much more than the well polished awards on your mantle, you’re so much more than you let yourself believe.

🌑Someone that forces you to stop and smell the roses, someone that creates an environment in which you feel so safe that vulnerability actually seems possible. And when you do finally open up, surprise surprise,,, they don’t sneer in disgust and tell you to cut the pity party. They allow you to feel, they show you that being in touch with your emotions and even acting upon them doesn’t make you weak, rather it strengthens your heart.

🌕In conclusion: you desire a soft and empathetic individual, that gives you a whole new perspective on life, and teaches you that you don’t have to go out of your way to earn their love, they will forever accept you as you are. Their love flows through you unconditionally, you are at ease now.

Leo Descendant Aquarius Ascendant:

🌱You’re afraid, you’re scared that they won’t understand, that your impassioned speeches will fall upon the ears of the ignorant, you worry that you’ll lose yourself to the herd mentality. You sense that you’re the only one on this planet with some sense of individuality and genuine compassion. Yet for the first time in your life Aquarius, you’ve been proven wrong. You watch as they make slow but sure steps up to the podium, their eyes are warm and set a glow with passion, their arms outstretched to the crowd drawing them in, and as they speak you begin to realise, you’re not alone.

🌻What else can you say? You’re a sucker for the dramatics. You admire their bold and brazen confidence. The way charm just seems to drip off of them, with every hair flick and radiant smile flashed you’re only human after all, even though you hate to admit it you can’t help but to fall for them.

🌱People that recognise the genius in you, people who see the method to your madness, people who take the time to listen to you string together your plans for the future and encourage you to put all of your innovative ideas to action. People who never give up on you. People who have faith.

🌻You are in awe of how they are so unapologetically themselves. You see yourself in their eyes. Two unique individuals both equipped with a strong sense of self, ready to take on the world as the ultimate power couple.

Virgo Descendant Pisces Ascendant:

🚣🏽‍♀️ As night falls the waves get angrier, crashing against the little rowboat, you don’t know how you managed to get here. Your mind procures a crack of lightening and clap of thunder just to add to the ambiance. It’s worse knowing that you can’t even seek solace in daydreams. You’ve been out at sea for quite some time, watching the days go by, but this night it’s different, you see a beam of light cut through the suffocating fog, they’ve come to guide you home.

🌊 You admire their neatly filed papers and freshly sharpened pencils. You like how it contrasts your paint stained hands and brushes strewn across the floor. You like that they always have a plan, you like that they’ve put so much thought into the details you forgot even existed. You find their nagging endearing, it anchors you from floating off into reverie as you like to do. They show you that the real world isn’t that bad after all.

🚣🏽‍♀️ When it all seems hopeless, and there’s nothing left to do but simply wallow in despair, they arrive with tissues and solutions. They listen attentively to all that you have to say. They make sense of the jumbled thoughts in your head carefully laying them out in order as they spill out of your mouth. They understand.

🌊Someone that provides structure and stability without trying to dilute your personality. Someone who would much rather dive in and get to know you for you.

Libra Descendant Aries Ascendant:

👹You drag your sword along the smooth marble of the palace floor trying your best to ignore the images of the battlefield you created,- standing tall amongst the defeated as the lone Victor. You look up to see them waiting for you as the always do, bandages in hand. As they nurse your wounds they observe you stifle a pained wince, and they remind you gently that the war is over now, you can let your guard down. The sword drops to the floor with an echoing clang, you are safe.

👼 You May have a one track mind and whilst that is admirable in a way, it can be stifling for others as you may fail to take into consideration the fact that humans are social creatures dependent on one another for survival. You need someone that gives you a new perspective on life, showing you the value in diplomacy and taking the time to understand all angles of a situation before making an absolute conclusion.

👹You’re attracted to kind, social individuals who charm you with their soft smiles and knowing eyes. The embodiment of grace and poise. They shock you with the way they elegantly waltz through confrontation and debates, remaining objective and calm. You learn from them.

👼 You will attract people who focus on the value of partnership, who strive to seek harmony and balance in every aspect of their lives. They adjust your lens on life to focus on more than just the bubble of defense you have created for yourself. You might be attracted to the whole “beauty with brains” type.

Scorpio Descendant Taurus Ascendant:

🌹You stand unwavering, rooted in the foundation you carefully handcrafted like a solid oak tree with gleaming branches and leaves of gold that grows steadfast through the years. A raven perches upon you whispering the secrets of the universe in a foreign tongue that reverberates through your soul, you begin to feel as though time has lost all meaning, and the seasons pass by in a blur, you emerge transformed. Burgeoning into an evolved sense of self.

🥀You are attracted to people with an alluring aura who you can tell have a red hot intensity simmering underneath their cool exterior.

🌹You are enamoured by the concept of a love that completely immerses you. They are a heady concoction of an individual that embodies loyalty and devotion, who takes the time to prod beneath your surface and understand the essence of your being.

🥀Note: You might attract individuals who seem broken, you might even have broken bird syndrome, eager to “fix” your partner. This can be very taxing, so maintain clear boundaries, and understand that you can’t change everyone.

Sagittarius Descendant Gemini Ascendant:

🥚 You are so aware of your surroundings, it sometimes feels as though you’re on the outside looking in staring through the window at the ongoing house party eyes glazed over, your mind is off journeying through the foreign lands you’ve only ever read about. However your body is very much present going through the motions of social niceties for a brief moment you lock eyes with them, you recognise the look on their face, it mirrors yours.

🐓You’re attracted to deep and philosophical individuals with restless spirits. You both share a love for knowledge, however they amaze you with their passionate stances. They are so attached to all that they learn, as though the process of encoding, storage and retrieval of information, takes place in the heart. It’s foreign to you but that’s why you like it.

🥚You have so much love to give even if you don’t know it, you attract partners who let you tap into that Jupiter-Esque energy. What is life, if not to give wholeheartedly.

🐓 They bring out the wanderer in you, they tell you to turn your thoughts into actions, allowing you to transform that mercurial energy you’ve pent up all this while.

Capricorn Descendant Cancer Ascendant:

🍇You feel like the tides, ensnared by the power of the moon, shifting from one partner to the other, dancing was never your thing. Yet that all seemed to change as you are spun into their arms. Their arms hold you firmly, guiding you through the steps, you flow together seamlessly and you can’t help but to gaze in amazement at the quiet confidence that seeps out from between their self assured movements. You are home.

🍷 You are attracted to ambitious individuals. You are drawn to their stoic faces and freshly pressed button up shirts. The way they hold themselves with utmost composure, the allure of the way you can never tell what’s going on inside their head.

🍇 Someone you can look to as your rock, even as your moods shift tumultuously throughout the day, they remain steadfast at your side.

🍷 You want someone to start a family with. Someone who can build a home with you that’s worth never leaving. Laid up together amongst the memories you’ve created, at peace.

Aquarius Descendant Leo Ascendant:

🕺You are the Sun. A life force. People gather in awe to watch the daily occurrence of you set and rise. Adoration comes naturally but, so does fear. People avoid your direct gaze, shading themselves when you seem to come off too strong. Only knowing how to admire from a distance. But Aquarius is different, their stare bores into you, analysing your every move, you’ve never felt more vulnerable. You’ve never felt more connected. You like it.

💃You are attracted to i n t e l l e c t u a l s 🥴. They appear indifferent upon the surface, a stark contrast to your animated disposition. But their passion runs as deep as yours. They have a unique perspective on life, and are fuelled by the genuine desire to give back to their community. You can’t help but be in awe of their creativity and innovative ideas .

🕺Speaking of genuineness, this is something that is so important to you. You are hyper aware of the fact that most people do things to be perceived a certain a way. Is it because you do the same thing, Leo? Because of this, you see right through the facades that people put up, and are in search of something something real. It’s not enough for someone to just seem kind, they have to have the innate desire to help others, regardless of the prospect of acknowledgement.

💃In closing, your type could be someone who is intelligent, passionate and understanding. Someone who is open minded and tolerant. They might appear emotionally indifferent, but you understand that. Y’all are just two lions, leaders of the pride, looking down from your shared fortress at the masses. Aloof, and in love lmaooo.

Pisces Descendant Virgo Ascendant:

🌧You watch enchanted, as their brush embraces the canvas, with every stroke ;) they slowly but surely create an escape for the both of you, your own universe where the shackles of reality have lost their hold. They take your hand and together you step into the watercolor paradise, a stark contrast from the harsh angles and hostile frigidity of this plane of existence. A love only found in daydreams.

🌈You are attracted to dreamy artistic types. People who are in tune with their emotions and who allow themselves to express their inner artist in every day circumstances.

🌧You have gotten so accustomed to living in the present trying to overcome obstacles and achieve your goals, you might not stop to realise you’re tired. Pisces soothes the tension you’ve been holding for so long. They understand how you feel without you even having to say a word. Despite the fact that they might look like they’re off in their own dream world, when they love they form a connection so strong that it’s as if they can read your mind.

🌈You strive for perfection, and they show you the beauty that lies underneath the covers of an unmade bed, or between the hours of a day spent doing absolutely nothing. They wish that you could see yourself through their eyes, reminding you everyday, that you’re nothing short of perfect.

[seasonofthewicth]

Rowaelin Month - Day 9

prompt: co-hosts with chemistry

extras: podcaster!rowaelin, friends to lovers, tooth-rotting fluff!

word count: 2k

--

The podcast had originally been Lysandra’s idea.

She had deemed their regular conversations dissecting each of their dating lives too entertaining to keep to themselves and so it had begun. It hadn’t been very successful and they had only managed to wrangle a small number of subscribers, mostly consisting of their friends and reluctant family members. They’d had fun, but when Lysandra moved to the Southern Continent they hadn’t bothered to keep it up.

Then Aelin got drunk with Fenrys and his new roommate Rowan.

Her drunken self had thought it a fabulous idea to whip out her phone and hit record when Fenrys had begun to weave his story of the beautiful Asterin and her ruthless rejection, Rowan chipping in with quips that always made her cheeks feel a little warmer. That and the sparkle in his green eyes each time he looked at her.

She’d been intrigued by Rowan on day one. He was everything Aelin felt herself drawn to in one big package. Tall, handsome, tattoos, wicked sense of humour, didn’t take any shit, constantly gave her shit. She was charmed.

Until the podcast had taken off.

The inebriated episode featuring Fenrys and Rowan had landed her with a few thousand subscribers. And she had wanted to continue.

Fenrys had rejected her outright, claiming he didn’t need any more public humiliation, the Asterin story had been enough and she understood, but Rowan…

She’s not sure why she even asked Rowan. They weren’t friends, the episode they’d recorded had been the first night they met and they hadn’t spoken since but she’d laid the offer on the table anyway. Despite the fact that hearing all about Rowan Whitethorn’s dating exploits made her stomach twist.

What she knew of Rowan had told her he’d say no too. He hadn’t given her the impression of being particularly easy going, or that spending time with her in the absence of Fenrys would have been something he would consider. In fact, she’d wondered if he’d thought her desire to chat about something as frivolous as dating would be somewhat shallow or childish.

But then he’d said yes.

And so began their tradition. Every Thursday after his final class of the day and Aelin gets home from her office, she uncorks a bottle of wine and makes dinner. Rowan turns up at eight pm sharp each week, armed with a slice of chocolate hazelnut cake and his lilting and charming accent. They set themselves up at the desk in Aelin’s spare bedroom, each with a set of headphones and a microphone and they talk.

That started eight months ago.

Now they have hundreds of thousands of listeners, people who for some unknown reason like to listen to Aelin and Rowan. Aelin doesn’t get it, but here they are.

Aelin tucks her feet under her thighs and rests the arm holding her wine glass along the back of the sofa. They’ve just finished this week’s episode and she’s not ready for Rowan to leave just yet. He turns to her at the motion, a brow cocked in questioning. He looks good, very good.

The light from her TV highlights the cut of his jaw and plays off the silver strands of his hair, flopping onto his forehead. The green of his henley perfectly displays his golden skin and she’s desperately searching for glances of the swirls of ink that peek out of his neckline each time he shifts.

She thought that by spending more time with him her crush would fade. Except now she definitely has a thing for someone who has turned into one of her best friends.

“What’s up with you?” he asks, so aware by now of her moods. He knows when to wait and when to push her, when to joke and when to keep it real.

Aelin shrugs and the motion dislodges her neckline from her shoulder to part way down her arm. Rowan’s eyes dart down tracking the motion but flash back to hers once she speaks.

“I’m thinking about where we go next,” she says slowly. “I don’t know about you but I’m not dating very much recently and I wonder if I’m running out of funny dating stories.”

Rowan’s lips twitch and she uses the time before he speaks to desperately wonder what’s going on in his head. Then he moves his hand to her knee, his touch a comfort and a thrill, and her mind can only focus on that. Can only focus on how good it feels for him to touch her. She doesn’t have the capacity to worry where his head is at when his hands are on her.

“It’s not just you,” he says, on the same wavelength as her as always. “I don’t find myself on many dates anymore.”

He says it without even a whisper of shame, like he’s confident in why that is.

“I can’t tell if I’m thinking too much about the podcast,” she admits, “or if I just don’t want to do it anymore.”

He’s silent, which she usually uses as her prompt to continue, but his hand stays on her knee.

“I have an idea,” she says, shocked again as his eyes meet hers. “It won’t last forever, but I think it could give us a few episodes at least. We turn to other people. We get listeners to share their experiences, their horror stories, their life lessons, their advice, their failures. We give our comments, we compare them, we’re funny. I think it could work.”

She’s so nervous for his thoughts, his opinions matter to her, she wants his approval.

“I think it’s a great idea,” he says as a soft smile creeps onto his lips, tugging up his cheek and she wants to press her lips right there. “We can get people to submit their best stories, review them, add our own additions and commentary and we’re good for a while.”

He pauses, as though there’s more he wants to say. His hand on her knee squeezes and she craves more of his touch, wants his hand to slide higher, wants his fingers to entwine with hers.

Then he says, “I have an idea for an episode.”

She cocks her brow but he shakes his head.

“I need to think it through some more but I’ll let you know as soon as I have a more solid idea.”

It works and she’s relieved her lack of desire to date anyone who isn’t six foot four, silver haired and named Rowan Whitethorn hasn’t needed any expansion and hasn’t so far caused any major problems. Apart from the fact she finds herself getting lost when he talks, unable to respond right away because she’s too busy staring at his lips, his hands, his everything as he speaks.

She’s sure he’s probably noticed but he kindly hasn’t commented.

The idea to get content from their listeners leads her down a path she’s somewhat shocked to realise exists. She’s been trawling twitter to find their content and interacting with a lot more of their listeners and it’s led her to a small corner of twitter dedicated to her and Rowan.

She scrolls and scrolls through tweets that are convinced she and Rowan are either married, fucking or in love. Or if not yet already, they need to be. Aelin doesn’t disagree necessarily, but it’s weird to know people are thinking that, let alone tweeting it.

@/crochanqueen: Aelin’s laugh every time Rowan says something slightly amusing…. girl you’ve got it bad. He’s not that funny.

Gods, she hopes Rowan hasn’t seen these tweets. She needs to watch when she laughs.

“Next submission,” Rowan says, leaning forwards and speaking into his mic. He’s in his usual chair across from her and she has almost unlimited access to the sight of him in all his glory. No wonder it’s hard to concentrate when they record. “This guy says hi, I’ve got it bad for my best friend.”

Aelin swallows. She definitely needs to watch herself for this one.

“A tale as old as time,” she says with a breezy laugh.

“Right,” Rowan says, a tightness to his voice that wasn’t there before, before he turns back to his phone to continue reading. “We’ve known each other for a while now and we spend a lot of time together just the two of us and it’s as easy as breathing. We get along incredibly well, she makes me laugh and she makes me smile. She brightens my day.”

“Gods, this is so sweet,” she coos and Rowan gives her a tight smile. Okay, she’ll let him finish.

“She’s my best friend,” Rowan continues and Aelin bites her lip. “I want more but I don’t want to ruin what we have if she doesn’t feel the same.”

“Hm,” she says, twisting her hands on the table in front of her. She has to manage this one carefully, so as not to give too much away. “Is there any indication of whether she feels the same way?”

Rowan glances back to his phone. “He says; there are moments where I think she feels the same, there are moments where I think I could press my lips to hers and she’d kiss me back. There are moments she looks at me and it looks as though it would be impossible for her not to feel the way I do.”

“She sounds like a lucky girl,” Aelin says almost wistfully.

“You think?” Rowan asks, and she’s not sure his question makes sense.

“Don’t you?” she asks. “If they have these moments, moments where he could kiss her and she’d kiss him back, the moments where they get lost in each other's eyes, I don’t think those things can be made up.”

She ignores the way she always feels as though she catches herself in these moments with Rowan. She ignores them and plows straight on through.

“If he’s having these thoughts enough that they feel like a moment, they probably are.”

“Damn, Aelin.” Rowan smiles across the table. “Any advice for the poor guy?”

“Oh, it’s simple,” she says smoothly, “he has to tell her how he feels. Don’t waste any more time, if you’re reading her this way and she’s your best friend I think there’s very little chance you’ve got this wrong. If you’re listening to this,” she says leaning forwards so her voice is clear in the recording, “get the girl. Take a chance, tell her how you feel. Start small, ask her to go on a date.”

Rowan nods, the movement a sharp jerk but a smile plays on his lips. He looks up to her, his eyes meeting hers.

“Alright, Aelin. Go out with me. A date.”

She laughs, a bright sound, not allowing herself to jump to conclusions. “Is that what it says?”

His eyes flick back to his phone before he locks it and slides it onto the table. “It doesn’t say anything.”

“What do you mean?”

She’s very confused now. Is he playing with her? Has he noticed the way she feels? Surely Rowan isn’t so cruel to mock her like this.

“There’s no submission, it’s me, it’s you. Go out with me Aelin?”

Her mouth drops open.

“Go out with you? You like me?”

She’s stunned okay? Cut her a little slack.

He laughs, a hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck. “This was quite possibly not my best idea,” he says. “To go about it like this. I thought it would have worked well.”

“You’re serious?” she says, a smile creeping into her voice.

“As a heart attack.”

She pulls her headset off, needing to feel this moment just the two of them. Rowan does the same, vulnerability shining in his gorgeous, green eyes.

“Rowan,” she breathes. “I’ve been into you since day one. I thought there was no way you were interested in me.”

She stands, rising from her chair and almost floating over to him until she stands between his legs. She gently rests a hand on his shoulder as she leans down. His hands come up to her waist and pull her onto his lap.

She settles with a smile as she reaches up to cup his cheek in her palm.

“I’ll edit this out tomorrow,” is all she says before she closes the gap between them, pressing her lips to his, sealing it with a kiss.

[thesims4blogger]

The Sims 4: New Game Patch (March 15th, 2022)

There’s a new Sims 4 update available for PC/Mac and Consoles.

PC: 1.85.203.1030 / Mac: 1.85.203.1230 / Console: Version 1.55

Sul sul, Simmers!

We hope you are safe and sound wherever you are right now.

Today’s update includes a range of bug fixes, several new Scenarios, and the expansion of Neighborhood Stories as a configurable system that applies to Neighbor Sims throughout your game!

As usual, thank you all for your continued support and feedback, and – most importantly – have fun!

– SimGuruKuxiku.

WHAT’S NEW?

Play with Neighborhood Stories!

Ever wonder why those Sims next door never move out? Or expand their family? …Or die from causes other than old age?

Well, Neighborhood Stories is the answer! Last November, we rolled out an update for everyone that added a set of life changes for Neighbor Sims who have a personal connection to your active household. With this release, Neighborhood Stories expands to breathe more life into Sims around town without your Sims even having to know them. They’re your neighbors, or your Sims that live across town, or even across the world. The Sims that you don’t actively play now have story moments happen to them. This includes allowing neighbor Sims to die in accidents, have an adoption or baby, make changes in their career or move in and out of Lots.

But maybe you’re saying, “I like the Pancakes the way they are! I don’t want them to move or have children! That’s not my story!” Don’t worry – Neighborhood Stories can be enabled for all Sims in My Households or Other Households, or on an individual basis per Household. Not only that, but each type of story can also be turned on or off individually. So, you can turn off the Pancakes from moving out or having children, but Bob can still change his career or die in a fiery accident!

To change configurations, just select Manage Worlds in the Options menu, and then select Manage Households. From there, you can choose either My Households or Other Households, and then configure the Neighborhood Stories by selecting the button at the top-right for all the Households in that tab. Or you can configure them separately per Household, using the Neighborhood Stories button in each Household.

To see what changes have taken place each day, go to a Mailbox and select ‘Check Recent Neighborhood Stories’. A Notification will appear, letting you know what changes have happened. See what’s happening to the Sims around the world, no matter who they are!

New Scenarios Now Available Along with Existing Household Support in Select Scenarios!

Would you like to try out some brand new Scenarios? With today’s base game update you can!

We’ve added 7 new Scenarios to The Sims 4. When you boot up the game today you’ll have access to:

Too Many toddlers

Troublemaker

Rom-Com

Super Rich Supervillain

Extraterrestrial Researcher

Unlucky Chef

No Skills, No Problem

In this updated version of the previously limited time Scenario, aim to get the happy toddler reward trait for this gaggle of whiz kids in the making

The kid’s a menace! Choose the path of villainy or surprise them with a redemption arc!

Is this relationship a joke? Only you can write the punchline!

Making a fortune is great, but you know what’s even better? Stealing one.

This Sim wants to… believe! Bring the truth from ‘out there’ to your own home.

Luck has nothing to do with how fire this chef is…

Who said Sims need to be skilled to make it in life? Time to prove your street smarts!

In addition to these Scenarios we’ve updated the feature to add existing household support to select Scenarios. You’ll also notice several tweaks and improvements to various aspects of the feature.

Take these new Scenarios for a spin today!

BUG FIXES

The Sims 4

We fixed an issue that caused Wedding Venues not to be available for Base Game Weddings.

If a new Scenario is available, you will see a notification now after logging into the game.

Opening and closing the Scenarios interface in Live Mode comes with a proper animation now.

Simmers should no longer see the “Happily Ever After?” outcome for the Engaged in Conflict Scenario when both Sims have a good sentiment.

The Conditions for the “Too Many To Handle” ending in the “Too Many Toddlers” Scenario only apply to toddlers now that were present when starting the Scenario.

We fixed an issue for some languages that caused Scenario outcome texts not to fit in the text box.

The Power Couple Scenario will conclude now when one of your Sims receives a promotion to CEO.

The audio response when starting a Scenario in a New Save Game and canceling a Scenario in live mode has been improved.

The work task interface for your active career should no longer clash with the Scenario interface when joining a career and moving to the work place at the time of work.

The yfHair_SP19CurlyLowPony hair style will be visible in Create a Sim catalog now when the Feminine Fashion Choice filter is selected.

Fixed an issue with Scenarios where the requirement for Sims to be spouses displayed as completed although there was just one Sim in the household.

The Scenario name also shows in the start Scenario interface now.

When entering Create a Sim after starting a new Scenario, the household requirements will no longer be overlapped by the Create A Sim Catalog and all information on the panel will be easy to read.

Calling off an Engagement will now count towards the Villainous Valentine Aspiration correctly.

We also made a few updates to the friendly calls from other Sims that your Sims receive:

Your Sims will no longer be called by a neighbor Sim and asked about becoming friends with another active household Sim your neighbor has never met before.

It will also be much clearer for friendly relationship calls now, whether the Sims’ get-together is of a platonic or romantic nature.

NPC Sims will also have sufficient confidence now and will no longer call your Sims asking for permission to be friends with their own spouse.

Seasons

Your Sims who are right on time to activity meetings no longer are chastised for being late.

Get Famous

Uninvited Sims no longer walk into your Sims house to “catch up” after your Sim’s Fame increases.

Cottage Living

Some Simmers reported that Cows and Llamas were getting stuck in their inventory after the Finchwick fair had ended. We clarified how to return your animals to their sheds in the fair-end notification.

Spa Day

Selecting “Teach/Lead” Yoga interactions now cancels “Practice Yoga” automatically.

Strangerville

Performing the “Ask about career” interaction with the ‘Conspiracy Theorist’ Erwin Pries will no longer cause a Llama icon to show on the Sim’s career tab and on hovering on the Sim in the relationships tab, but it should display the correct icon now.

My Wedding Stories

Ceremony interactions are now available when doing a Vow Renewal or Reception at another Sim’s home.

Sims should now show up in their appropriate attire for Wedding Ceremonies

Vow Renewal is now only available to Married Sims, and Wedding Ceremony is only available to Engaged Sims.

Romantic Garden Stuff Pack

Ghost Sims revive properly now when living Sims use the Wishing Wells “Wish for Life” interaction.

Bust The Dust Kit

Sims no longer get the “Rage Cleaning” angry moodlet when Bust the Dust is disabled.

We also optimized vacuum cleaners so your Sims won’t need to fight dust everyday.

[official-alan-dabiri]

Was digging for Heroes of the Storm content to put my grubby little hands on, which is understandably challenging right now. Most Blizzard-adjacent blogs and tags are flooded with anger against Bobby Kotick and the abusers he protected, and support for the employee walkout. (And about half of the Overwatch community still being shitty about the Cole Cassidy rename.) And while I don’t want to talk about the issue - it’s been better covered by more dispassionate and informative people than me - I saw a tag that was definitely something worth drawing attention to:

Soak that up for a second. The Blizzard Of Yore. This wasn’t the first time I’ve seen this sentiment. People talk about Blizzard’s good old days. That the company went downhill, and that’s why these things happened. None of these abusers would have been allowed in the presence of the great Auteurs who brought us SC:BW, WC3, and that one good expansion for WoW. We all know which one, I don’t have to specify. But the guys who made those games were above this kind of behavior, and wouldn’t have tolerated it.

I don’t know why this needs to be said, but this is, obviously, bullshit.

Putting the rest under the cut for the benefit of those who might be particularly upset by what’s gone on at Blizzard.

These abuses happened because Blizzard had - since the beginning - a “frat boy culture.” Women employed at Blizzard in the early 2000s have come forward and said that they were treated as a sex object from the moment they were employed. This culture didn’t just start yesterday. Years of work was done at Blizzard to foster this environment, and those who didn’t work to build it chose to ignore it. Abusers spent years developing a workplace where they could have free reign. They made misogynist jokes to identify coworkers they could trust. They worked to inure HR to reports of little shitty behaviors to mask the big problems. They developed a pattern of behavior so that any women in the environment could be isolated, surrounded by like-minded assholes who would let the abusers have their way.

Yes! Even when they made that one game you like! This was happening then! Yes! Even when Dustin Browder and all the Dreamhaven people were still there! Yes! Even when Metzen was still there! This has been happening for as long as Blizzard has existed! In the Golden Age of Blizzard, Blizzard was full of shitty people, making a shitty environment so that they could be shitty to women. (And cowardly people who didn’t stop it.)

Alex Afrasiabi - one of the worst offenders - was hired at Blizzard in 2004. He was slotted into the WoW quest development team, and worked on the vanilla game along with all the expansions you love. He was, by all current accounts, a shitty fucking dude, and plenty of people knew it - whether or not they qualified his behavior as shitty. But no one in authority there saw any problem with naming numerous NPCs and items after him. The people he hurt were isolated, surrounded by people who thought his behavior was okay. And that environment was one that had been built from day one to accept him and his behavior. To give him access and control, and protect him from consequences.

This happened when Blizzard was still “Blizzard of Yore.”

There was no perfect iteration of Blizzard. Stop fucking talking like Blizzard 20 years ago was above this. It fucking wasn’t. Blizzard 20 years ago was the soil that nurtured all the shit you’re hearing about right now. Blizzard 20 years ago was where these events physically happened. Yes. It’s absolutely true that Blizzard made better games back in the old days. But just because they were making better games back then doesn’t mean no one was being harassed. When you talk about those games as some sort of golden age that Blizzard should return to, you’re not asking them to go back and be better.

You’re asking them to go back and be better at hiding it again.

[otomegema]

title: Convergence Theory pairing: Gojo Satoru x Reader summary: You are a lesser family member of the Gojo clan, so far removed you don't even carry the name, but you carry the Limitless ability and thus the potential to be a bride to the future head of the clan— a fact you patently reject at fifteen. Twelve years later you are a second grade sorcerer struggling to obtain first grade status when the object of your deepest objections offers you a deal. rating: Mature for now, explicit later most likely because WHY NOT tropes: fake dating/engagement, rivals to lovers, slow romance Link: Archive of Our Own

August, 2005.

That summer had been oppressively warm, a layer of heat trapped beneath a layer of moisture that made even the light fabric of your yukata stick to your sides. It was the kind of weather that made your body beg for relief, to lay shivering and sweltering under the barest breath of cool air.

Your mother had opened the outside screens in the room, letting you sit on the porch overlooking the small garden at the center of the expansive, traditional home. The view was lovely, overlooking a manicured garden, a small koi pond bubbling pleasantly even as the night air chirped with the sounds of insects.

The main house was equipped with air conditioners in some of the rooms— just like your parent’s own home, only a short distance away, but somehow so far removed from the atmosphere of this place it felt miles away. Centuries. The clock on the wall seemed suspended in time, halted too by the weight that fell over this place.

There was nothing to be done. When the head of the Gojo family called, even the smallest vine, hanging from the tiniest branch, curled in. Your great grandmother had bore the Gojo name before she married, a detail of minor significance that had not effected your own family until your birth. You had often heard your parents discussing the main family in hushed voices when they thought you were not listening. First with excitement and eagerness and then with worry.

There had been a phone call, an order disguised as invitation.

Gojo Satoru, heir to the name, barer of the Six Eyes, was turning sixteen in December, a scant four months away.

Six Eyes. Two words that managed to leave the bitterest taste of bile in your throat.

It had been thought the next Six Eyes would be born in your generation, your parents hopeful at one point that you were the one so blessed. A hundred years of waiting ended by the birth of another child, honored above all other sorcerers. Your had been born with the Limitless, that much was certain and an extra unnaturally keen ability of foresight… the signs were there. The possibility that the the massive potential of the Limitless was within your grasp if you could only prove to possess the fabled Six Eyes…

You were hailed for a short time as possibly a true child of the Gojo blood, a blessing. A boon. And then not even a short year later that boy was tested. No two Six Eyes could exist and it was him, not you, who was truly blessed.

You ran your hands up the back of your neck, dislodging the hair stuck your heated skin.

And worse yet, now you would suffer the indignity of being paraded around with every other eligible girl with a single drop of Gojo blood diluted enough to be proper for marriage.

Gojo Satoru needed a betrothed and only the best would do, naturally.

You were to be polite, courteous and docile. Laugh at his jokes, bat your eyes. Play the role of the pursued for the pursuer.

Did you even want to be selected? Once hailed as the promised child, now degraded to probable broodmare ?

You sucked your teeth, holding back a feral shriek somewhere deep in your throat. There was a knock on the wooden frame of the room, lazy and slow. The door slid open before your mother could get you to return inside to the low tables and too hot tea laid out.

You were all but deaf to the sounds of stilted, forced polite conversation, but could not ignore the sudden presence of a young man who came to sit down hard at your side.

Gojo Satoru was not an unattractive young man. He had the signature Gojo coloring, his eyelashes even as pale as driven snow. You yourself had even inherited two streaks of white in your hair, framed near your face and standing in contrast against the rest.

But that handsomeness was hard to enjoy when his expression was one of such utter indifference. He did not even bother to remove the dark glasses that shaded over his eyes, but you hardly were offended. It would have been all the worse to have to look at the very thing you coveted most in this world. Taunting you. Dismissing you.

How many girls had he been forced to sit with today? Judging by his bored expression, too many.

“This is the part where you tell me your name.” He said, voice amused, yet slightly condescending. Behind you both, his parents spoke with your own, but that too was part of the charade. All eyes were on you. All ears tuned to your words.

“You know my name.” You said with a thinly veiled sigh. His attention shifted just a fraction and you noticed with an indignant flush he was wearing his school uniform. Shirt untucked, jacket unbuttoned. You had been forced to spend hours getting ready for this meet-up.

He tilted down his glasses to give you a halfway appraising look and you turned away.

“Goin’ for the aloof angle then? Some other girls tried it too. As if you pretend hard enough that you aren’t interested somehow I will be.”

How fucking arrogant.

Your fists clenched in your lap.

“It won’t work.”

“I’m not working any ‘angle’.” You grumbled, “I was told to be here so I’m here. That’s all.”

“You expect me to believe that, huh?”

“I don’t care what you believe.” You spat back, turning to shoot him a piercing glare.

There was silence then, even the voices behind you seeming to falter and lower as if worried they were missing out on some secret hushed conversation.

“Ohhh, wait. I remember now! I do know your name.” Gojo continued, taking off his sunglasses and wiping off some smudge or dust from the lens, “Aren’t you that girl they thought was gonna have the Six Eyes in her?”

Your fist clenched tighter.

“I get it now. Sour grapes and all. Tell ya what…” he spoke softer and leaned in until you felt his breath against your ear, “If you ask me really nicely, for one night, you still could."

The only sound that came after that was the harsh strike of skin against skin. The contact of your palm connecting to his cheek stunned not just the adults inside, but you.

No self respecting sorcerer with the Limitless ability would have been taken by surprise and yet here you sat, having successfully struck the heir to the Gojo name right across his smug face.

You drew your hand back. His pale cheek had turned a throbbing red so quickly, his smirk raised as his glasses slid down the bridge of his nose and revealed how his blue eyes danced with open amusement.

***

September, 2017.

The uproar that followed that moment twelve years ago had been profound. Your parents had spent the remainder of the visit profusely apologizing and demanding explanations… and the entire time Gojo had stared only at you. Blue eyes wide and engulfing, a smirk etched in the corner of his mouth even as he got up and strode out without another word.

You remembered he had whistled as he went. As if it were all according to plan.

No betrothal was agreed to that night nor any night since. You were never summoned to the main house again.

It had been the most freeing moment of your young life, opening the world from the one pinpointed hope you’d be born with the Six Eyes or wed to the one who had it into a kaleidoscope of possibility.

You attended Jujutsu Tech’s Kyoto branch, keeping far out of the way of the rising star of the Gojo clan.

Well.

Sorta.

So the problem with having an inherited technique that allowed you to “see” curses and cursed energy users from great distances? Gojo Satoru. The man was such an expansive supernova of energy that when you opened your mind and utilized your gift of telemetry to try and pinpoint targets you had to navigate around his massive, dominating aura.

It was like counting stars against a sunlit sky. The ability, that should have been astronomically useful, rendered inert if Gojo Satoru was on the field.

You tried not to have your own missions line up with his. Which meant keeping tabs on him. Which meant having to live with this gnat, this buzzing fly of cursed bullshit constantly humming in the background when you used your gifts.

You wished everyday you had swatted him harder.

Missions in Tokyo were the worst, but you accepted them without complaint. The fact you’d even managed to rise to second grade despite your public humiliation of the main family’s golden child was a miracle in itself and not one you would squander.

The task was simply. There was a cursed entity that was utilizing the signal within electric devices of all things to move from device to device, rapid as an electrical pulse. It had already killed five non-sorcerers in surge related house-fires in two days. The risk of it causing a massive firestorm in any district rising.

The air had begun to cool in Tokyo, the heat of the summer giving way to fall. You sat on a bench, wireless com already clipped to your ear, the only sound so far the faint static of the open radio and the sound of your breath. The air had that crispness already, the bare cusp of autumn. You steadied your thoughts and began to shut down your senses.

The cursed energy of the young sorcerer students around you began to glow in your mind’s eye, the rest of the world fading into shades of imperceptible grey. Blurring. Distorting.

If you had the Six Eyes, you would be able to see it all. But instead, you blinded yourself to everything but the cursed when you utilized your skill.

You shut your eyes and with a soft breath you whispered, “Cursed technique— Limitless Telemetry: Grey.”

The city revealed itself to your five senses like a massive overflowing of information. Had you not taken the time to adjust, quickly shutting down your hearing, sight, taste, smell and touch in order to compensate, the mental load would have stunned you into a comatose state for several hours. Another thing a Six Eyes user would never need to do. You mentally chastised yourself for allowing the distraction of a deprecating thought, and focused instead upon your sixth sense. The one that tracked beyond the physical.

You were effectively helpless in this state, but within your mind you breezed through the city like a thumb pressed over the pages of a book. Flipping at your leisure as you focused in upon the fastest moving pulse of cursed energy.

In your “peripheral vision” or what acted like a sort of peripheral vision, you could sense the constant presence of Gojo. It was far away, diluted. You wondered if perhaps he was overseas for the barest moment until your senses snapped together and fell upon your target.

You spoke. Your words falling on your own deaf ears as you gave the location into the com. You perceived the movement of the three students. Good kids, fast learners. One boy was even a scion of another great house and the one girl among them possessed a cursed technique of extreme value. The other boy, the pink haired one, you had yet to understand, but his cursed energy output was impressive.

The entity moved. You adjusted, giving new instructions. The curse had not yet caught on to the fact it was being tracked, a fact you would use to your advantage as long as possible. If the curse sensed you, it could easily close the distance and attempt to seek you out… which was why sitting in a park, far from any electrical devices other than your battery powered radio was the safest place you could be.

And if worse came to worse, at least it would be drawn out in the open.

The entity jumped again, following the planned route the three had decided upon to box it further and further into a section of the city that they had already prepared to shut down. Without power, the curse would have to break free of its hiding place within the electric current.

How did a curse even get into the power grid? Too many lost football games on TV? You chuckled a bit to yourself without thinking, providing the newest coordinates as you watched, like an omnipresent spectator as the energies of the curse and the students moved.

This is why I score the highest at Pac-Man…

Everything was going according to plan. You had begun to even let your thoughts wonder, your focus softening just the barest fraction as the students rounded the final corner and blocked the curse into the chosen spot.

And now here comes the switch…

You braced for the surge of cursed energy you expected to feel from it’s ejection…but the power stayed on. You had to stifle the sensation of panic that sparked through your heart, your cursed energy rising a fraction.

And there it was. You felt the shift, the sudden adjusting of the entity. The students flared bright, attacking to try and ward off its escape, but without the power shut off they were waiting for, the curse easily vanished, pulsing through the city and heading now straight ahead… to you.

It’s fine. Fine. Nothing electric by me, so no fast travel.

It couldn’t pass through the coms. It would need to branch off into another grounded circuit and then physically come out to face you in the empty park.

You could hold unto the technique a little longer. Guide the students a little longer. You snapped information in quick short terms. Watching the cursed energy approach closer and closer until it reached the last building at the far end of the park.

And then, inexplicably, it jumped again.

The force in which you were propelled did not immediately register to your mind as your senses flickered and began to come back on line one by one.

The first was touch.

And thus pain.

Your muscles contracted, shot full with an electrical pulse. It wasn’t as bad as it could have been, the strike coming indirectly as if someone had forced the curse away. Something blinding and bright exploding over the far-reaching vision of your Limitless technique before your ability snapped off like a cut thread.

Your hearing came back first from sheer force of will. Sight returning in blurry, slowly filling shapes. You forced yourself up from the ground, feeling scrapes biting along your palms.

“You fucking dick.” You managed to hiss, your vision returning just in time to witness the exorcism of the curse by none other than Gojo Satoru.

***

“You used me as bait!”

Your voice reverberated off the hallway walls, your mild injuries tended to but your grievances still in desperate need of airing.

You were only comforted by the fact his students had not been involved in the deception, having also thought Gojo was away while they worked under her guidance in the meanwhile. You were no teacher, but you had taken enough students through missions to be adequate at “babysitting”.

Gojo grinned easily, eyes hidden behind his blind fold as he ran a hand up his neck, feigning a bashfulness you knew had not an ounce of genuineness to it.

The bastard had quietly set up a god damn daisy chain of extension cables into the park, ending plugged into a cheap TV set… right next to you. And he’d done it only after you’d entered your Limitless, taking advantage of your lack of senses to literally bait you like a god damn fish hook and then swoop in to destroy the curse.

His students had been a distraction. A means to force the curse into seeking you out and getting into the open where it could not easily run again. It was the most convoluted, infuriatingly, ridiculous brilliant bullshit you had heard in a long while.

“Pretty clever, yeah? I’ve been practicing my multi-layer tactics.”

“That wasn’t a tactic, it was a gamble and a shitty one at that!”

“Yeah, yeah, but did you die?” Gojo asked, tilting his head to the side. His voice was tinged with amusement and you wondered for a moment if he even remembered you and this was some elaborate “gotcha” twelve years in the making… or if this kind of backhanded backstabbing was common place for him.

“It was interesting to see your technique in action. I could probably give you some tips on how to make it more effective, but they’d be pretty useless to— well. You. So I figure I’ll just make the tweaks and practice it myself!”

You stayed silent.

“What did ya call it? Limitless Telemetry?”

You turned and walked in the opposite direction.

“Whoa— hold on.”

Your exit was cut off, the grinning face you wanted nothing more than to connect your fist into coming back into view.

“I’m kidding. Don’t run off and cry now, we got some other business I wanna discuss.”

“If you’re planning on pitching another mission to me, I pass.”

“Nope. Well— yes. But not like this one.”

You sighed, side stepped, and continued around him again.

“I’ll buy you lunch!”

You stopped.

“And maybe even some kakigōriiiiiiii—“ he continued, his voice lifting to a sing-song tone as he stretched out the word. Your stomach twisted and grumbled in response. Using your Limitless always took so much out of you… a side effect you wondered if he experienced to.

You turned to look back at the man who hadn’t so much as glanced your way in years and wondered again if he was so stupid he didn’t remember who you were or if he was hatching some new plot.

He smiled in what you assumed he thought was a disarming and charming way.

“Fine.”

***

You had settled for a sweet plum flavor, dipping your small wooden spoon into the shaved ice and enjoying the way it melted across your tongue. Flavors always felt more pronounced after you used your Limitless, smells more intense. The sights sharper. It was probably just a placebo effect from being without them, even for a short amount of time, but regardless you enjoyed the sweet flavor and the fruity smell of the different syrups… most of which were coming from Gojo’s own cup.

He had gotten every flavor. The shaved ice in his cup a rainbow of color and tastes as he scooped several together at a time.

The lunch he promised had yet to come, but the treat was enough for now as the sugar helped give a little more pep to your body and your mood. The amount of calories you expended using your gifts was another thing entirely.

The two of you walked a ways in silence, giving you time to observe him for the first time in over a decade.

He had changed, that much you could tell. There was something less harsh in his general demeanor and he had grown considerably since he was fifteen. The boyishness of his face had sharpened, the man overtaking his features. He was broader, less lanky than his teenage self and while his easygoing and devil-may-care attitude was still present, there was something less— edged about it. Less angry.

“Your hair is shorter now,” Gojo said suddenly, “And your chest is bigger.”

You immediately frowned. A look of open disgust flashing over your face. Gojo laughed.

“Thought I forgot about ya, didn’t you?” He slid a thumb over his cheek, the gesture making you flush at the memory of what it felt like to slap the smirk off his face.

“Honestly? Yes.” you answered shortly, taking another bite of your ice.

“Nah. I remember, just figured there was no point in makin’ nice. You seem to be doing fine on your own these days. Second grade, yeah?”

“Yes.”

“As short worded as ever.”

He strode off, forcing you to match his pace. He found a park bench and sat down, sprawling out lazily. You sat next to him at his insistence, knocking your knee into his own until he closed his thighs a bit more with a chuckle.

“Thought you’d be a first grade by now.”

“I have not been recommended.”

He snorted, “Bet you know why.”

You clenched your teeth, holding back a sharp word and an even sharper desire to toss your kakigōri right in his face. Arrogant as ever. Some things, you guessed, did not get better with age.

“The great and fabled Six Eyes holding a grudge over a love tap? How trite.” you said, trying to keep your words indifferent.

“Is that what it was? I had a bruise ya know.”

“You could have stopped my hand before it ever even touched you. You wanted me to slap you so you could get out of having to do anymore meetings.”

His laugh was all the confirmation you needed.

“Is that what you’ve thought all this time?”

“It’s what I know.”

Gojo turned his attention back to his shaved ice, the two of you sitting in silence long enough for the weight of it to become uncomfortable for you. Finally you shifted and scrapped your spoon down the ice, leaving trails of melting syrup.

“What is it that you want?” Because that was what this was about wasn’t it? He wanted something. The main family never disdained to speak to the lower members without a need and Gojo Satoru was not about to be the exception.

“I’m going to recommend you for first-grade sorcerer status.”

You scrapped your spoon through so harshly a chunk of colored ice fumbled down the side of the paper cup and down your hand. You dodged just in time to avoid it landing with a wet smack on your pants.

You gaped openly at him, but Gojo kept his attention fixed on his ice, happily stirring it up into a soupy, syrupy mess.

“… and yet again I ask, what is that you want?”

Gojo leaned back, tilting his face towards you with an easy grin. You wondered if he saw the world the way you did with your Limitless with his eyes shaded. Seeing only the impressions of energy and sensation. Could he see your expression? The confusion in the downturn of your mouth or the suspicion in the narrowness of your eyes?

“Nothing too crazy! Just need a fiancée.”

The breath punched out of your lungs.

***

You waited outside the small convenience store across the street, feeling your cheeks beginning to lessen in redness from both anger and embarrassment at your sudden outburst.

When Gojo returned from inside, his hair was still wet… and there was still some redness from the syrup stuck to the strands. You hadn’t been able to control the impulse to throw your kakigōri at him, the breaking of your composure having flowed directly down your arm. It could have been worse, you supposed. You could have punched him.

He had needed to rinse off his blindfold, the fabric now folded and tucked into his back pocket. He had replaced it with the dark glasses you recognized from his youth, giving you a glimpse of the bright blueness of his eyes every once and awhile.

Gojo sighed and tossed a damp paper towel into a bin and turned to you expectantly. You gingerly handed him back his own dessert, having minded it for him while he went into the men’s room to clean up. It was practically soup now and you winced when he lifted it to his lips and drank it.

“As I was saying—“ he began with a smack of his lips.

“No—”

“—it’s a pretend engagement.”

Your mouth hung open, half ready to utter another refusal, which you swallowed back in as he waited expectantly for you to cease interrupting him.

“You let me take you on a few dates, we put on a show of my courting a potential betrothed and in exchange I green light your promotion.”

You narrowed your eyes, biting the corner of your lip into your mouth in obvious consideration.

“For how long?”

Your directness didn’t seem to offend him. Quite the opposite actually. Every time you curtly dropped a single or few word sentence he seemed to only smile brighter.

Gojo shrugged, “A few months. Maybe more. Until I figure out a permanent solution.”

“Your parents want you to get married?”

“The whole clan wants me to get married, sweetheart. I am the strongest.”

And now came the obvious question.

“Why me?”

Gojo shrugged, “You were one of their first picks to start with, so they’ll approve. And there isn’t a risk of you falling for me…”

His lips upturned into a sly grin, “… too quickly.”

You scoffed.

“Family will back off. I get a bit of peace until I have to kick you to the curb, and you get to be a first-class sorcerer. Everyone wins.”

“I’m not going to fall for you.”

Gojo gave a sad little nod, like he was agreeing with a deluded person in order to keep them calm and reasonable.

Granted, you did just effectively hurl a slushy at him a few minutes prior.

“This seems a bit extreme, even for you. Why do you think I’d even say yes? You know exactly why you got slapped. Can I expect that same level of charm from our future ‘dates’?” you asked, kicking yourself for having implied in your words you knew him well enough to even know what was extreme for him. The comment did not go unnoticed, even with his half expression hidden you could tell his interest was piqued. The last thing you wanted to do was to explain to this insufferable man how his very presence was as constant as the sun. Always nagging in the back of your mind and in your abilities.

You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

“That was awhile ago. Most girls find me pretty charming these days. As to why you’d say yes— given it is probably your best chance at getting to first grade sorcerer status, I can’t think of a reason you wouldn’t.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. Fifteen year old you would be outraged, furious. She would not have considered this offer for a second. She would have stamped her foot and told him exactly where he could stick his offer.

But twenty-eight year old you had learned that very often principles were made to be damned.

“And the fact I can tell you are just dying to say yes.”

There was that arrogance again.

“You still buying me lunch?” you countered and the smile he gave you was a bit different than the ones before.

“Wow. No one will even question how I could have been charmed by such a talented freeloader.”

“I am exceedingly charming.”

“And what an arm. You play softball or you just start a lot of food fights as a kid?”

“I want sushi.” You said, the finality of your voice inarguable. You thought he might have rolled his eyes, but nevertheless you got your lunch and even managed to bargain a single day to think about the offer.

[catsauceeartofficial]

Hot Take Alert!! Hot Take Alert!!

That's right guys and gals and non-binary pals, I have a hot take, and this involves the BNHA fandom.

Well actually, it's a topic I've had niggling in the back of my brain until someone on youtube brought it up, and I realized that yes, this was a thing I realized was prevelant in the fandom, in fanart and in fanfiction.

So unless you want to read a hot take that you are open to and don't get immediately aggressive over, do continue reading under the tab. If not, just go ahead and enjoy your browsing :)

So as a good mha fan does, I engage with the fandom by creating fanart, reading fanfic and generally leaving the fandom alone with how they interact with my work. I'm okay with letting people interpret my work and expanding on it. Often it leads to nice expansions on my work (the most popular one being Shima's Support Hero Deku comic I made) and it's great.

But some comments stick out to me. One instance was in my sequel comic, where Todoroki is used as a heater. I had drawn a panel where he's holding a receipt (I thought I was being clever by showing his left hand, his fire side, which is holding the receipt as he says "my left side keeps me warm" but the composition was bad so it was lost on the readers) then someone made a joke about how his receipt was so long, they had made up that Todoroki was coming out of work from a CVS store.

A light joke, but what got me was the CVS reference, because I realized that CVS was an american reference.

So here's the thing. I'm Asian and I live in Southeast Asia. The only reason I know about CVS is because social media, dominated by american media, have made numerous jokes about CVS and it's long receipts. And yeah, that's a little haha reference. It's small, maybe something someone outside of america who doesn't follow america media as much wouldn't get, but yeah, I get the reference so I move on.

But then, I began to realize in bnha fan fiction, these American references were in alot of prominent fics. What Japanese would refer to these stores as 'Mini-marts' or 'Convenient stores' get referenced as CVS or American named stores like Walmart or Target. When this is a manga set in Japan.

Not only that, alot of fics bleed American culture, most prominently White American Culture, into them. We have heavy uses of memes, jokes and references very specific to white media, and places and settings that would clearly not be in Japan. We have characters saying things completely out of line that throws over what asian culture has been taught and still is respected and carried out by youths.

Now like, I get drawing from personal experiences when writing fiction. If anything, it can be a driving force for a creator to create. But honestly, when I got immersed in a fic to suddenly be slapped with the characters going to chick-fil-a, it kinda just made me frustrated.

Now lets say you shoved all these characters into America, make them America and just make the whole thing American. Err, yeah, I'll probably not read that, but hey, it's fine. But when you keep these character in the context of their world being Japan, you gotta at least respect that Japan and asia culture plays a role it in, and does not stray too far into American context.

It's not even that hard to make bnha content that does not reference American culture. Hell Mcdonalds exists there too, just use that.

From the video I mentioned earlier, he talked about how when the bnha fandom complains about its characters being redrawn as black, they are also the same people that contextualises it's characters based on white american culture, and yeah, that's essentially the core problem.

One artist I like to mention, is theparalumans on instagram. She took the entire bnha's characters and concepts and reinvented it in a Fillipino context. And that is perfectly okay! She uses this to tell amazing gags and explore these characters further in the context of Fillipino culture (the one where Midoriya turns into a Fillipino Grandma is astronomically comical)

So what am I saying here? I had a point.... Oh yeah.

When creating media, be it fictional, fanworks or something, when writing characters, it's cultural context is important. Not just because of immersion, but just as a basic respect to the culture you have used in your story.

Like trust me, I've never been so glad to have asian meals been correctly used in fan fiction.

[hesgunnalovethis]

Act of Guilt

Summary: Your actions planetside begin to interfere with your daily life and Leonard McCoy, struggling to see you this way, wants to help.

TW: Teen rating for mature themes, we’re talking through some sleep paralysis, we’re having bad dreams, we're absolutely full of angst but we end on a high besties <33

This one goes out to all my homies that are overworked and underappreciated :’) whether it be school, college, uni, careers or general life; you are seen, you are valid and I think you’re doing a great job and so does our homeboy Leonard McCoy.

Masterlist!

Word Count: 1855

You were used to waking up against the frigid grey of the Enterprise. Even as a high ranking officer you were each assigned the same internal quarters, uniform in presentation. Glutted, you often heard a little more than you wanted to on either side of your walls. You feared that perhaps they heard a little too much as well.

You were used to waking up with frozen limbs. With the same familiar feeling washing over your head before rushing down to tighten your chest. The same reluctance to open your eyes to reveal whichever heinous scene your subconscious displayed within your familiar raw walls.

Every night played out the same: the face of someone you loved in front of your pointed phaser switched to kill, heaved awake by the thud of their lifeless body, held a frozen prisoner forced to endure whichever fear felt most prominent that morning.

Recently you couldn’t even bring yourself to near the bed. You’d return from shifts to sit on the bitter floor and recount the enemies you’d killed in the name of Starfleet. You’d think of their lives, their loved ones, their dreams.

You were brought to Starfleet to be a doctor; now it seems they’d have you do anything but.

It was Thursday. You made your way to the medbay to be briefed on the rota for this week. You weaved in and out of a sea of uniforms who stalked towards their own respective bases for their own respective rotas.

Your week often looked the same - another sense of routine you couldn’t seem to escape - five days with the ground team, one shift in the medbay, one day off. Your medbay shift was always the same too. Sunday shift: the biggest influx of causalities, highs of inpatients with the longest turnover time, most surgeries performed and somehow always understaffed.

Moving towards your, makeshift, office you picked up your PADD and looked for the rota that Leonard always sent to you prior to the briefing. Seven days of ground work. You almost doubled over from the thought of it. Your entire body felt hot as you took deep breath convincing bodily fluids to stay put.

With frantic pace you arrived at Leonard’s, very much real, office and found him turned away finishing his notes for the day.

You dropped the PADD in front of him with force, “Explain.”

“You know that if I had it my way you’d be here seven days a week.” Leonard spoke as if rehearsed, he’d obviously anticipated your visit.

“You have jurisdiction here, Leonard. Surely there’s something you can do? Something you haven’t tried?” You scrambled out as Leonard put his pen down and held his head in his hands.

“I’ve tried everything darlin’. You don’t know how important it is to me that you’re here.” Your mind flicked through your conversations in the medbay that went on a little too long as you stood a little too close. Stolen moments through the day you’d fill with genuine laughter and escapism. The fresh flowers that would appear in your crooked office that he’d never let you thank him for. You remembered the shifts where Leonard would let you take the lead while he caught up on sleep on his couch. The days you’d both stay behind and drink away the sourness until you met the sweetness of his lips on yours. “I’ve tried everything.”

“Tell them we’re understaffed. Tell them I’m indispensable. Tell them-” Your voice broke. Leonard head lifted at the sound revealing a deep hole in his cheek unmistakably driven in by a phaser shot.

You gasped, stumbling back through his office tripping over the coffee table centre piece of the room. Leonard moved towards you. Unable to take your eyes off the hole in his face as your hands dripped with blood and guilt you expelled your body weight willing the pull door to push open. Leonard’s hands levelled either side of the door frame his face close to yours. Ears muffled and knees giving way you pressed your eyes shut concealing the scene.

“Y/N?” Leonard asked after a few moments of stillness before lifting one of your eyelids shining his torch in each eye. As you readjusted to the light you saw Leonard’s face again, clean of everything but concern. You glanced round the room to find the coffee table the only thing out of place and your hands sweating but clean. You reached for Leonard pulling him in towards you. His hands swept round your back and he pressed a kiss into your temple.

“What” he asked, “the hell was that?”

“Felt like my dream.” You said performing exercises to convince Leonard you did not have a head injury without him asking.

“And you often have dreams of murderous me?” Leonard dissolved, guiding you towards the seats in the middle of the room, straightening the coffee table.

“No. I often have dreams of murderous me.”

Curious and cautious Leonard sat opposite you and reached for your hand. He pulled back sharply at first “You’re iced.” He clasped both your hands in his and puffed a long warm breath between them. Slowly your anxiety began to melt. The breath was real. The warmth was real.

“Every night I have a dream, eerily like an away mission, only the faces are swapped and I know who I’m killing. And then, I wake up and watch them die on my floor and my body screams at me to wake up and help them but I’m frozen. I can’t move.”

“Sleep paralysis?” Leonard asked still rubbing your hands between his own.

“That would be my guess. Every morning. Some nights I can’t face it.”

“What do you do those nights?”

“I stay up. Sit on the ground and think about all the lives I’ve taken in a job where I’m supposed to save them.” You stood up and walked towards the window in Leonard’s office, poking open the blinds to view the busy medbay. You sighed at the internal architecture of the ship. “It’s like I’m not real. I exist within grey walls or as a killing machine.” You slumped back down in the chair.

Leonard leaned forward slipping his hand round the back of your neck, scratching the base of your hair line. He held eye contact with you and sincerely stated, “You’re quite dramatic.”

“Week after week, Leonard. Every time I shut my eyes I see you or Jim or- or Chekov lifeless because of me! Makes you think of what those lives I’ve ended meant to someone else.” You stood up again walking towards the blinds, poking them open slightly hoping to see a different landscape. “And why does this ship have no exterior windows! Would it kill them to let me see the stars? Remind me where I came from.” Spitting the end vehemently towards Starfleet architects.

“Why don’t you come and stay with me for a while?” Leonard placed a hand on your shoulder, his other hand working the blinds out of your fingers before you broke them. “A change of scenery might do some good.”

“Aren’t you going to tell me I need to work through my guilt and reconceptualise my relationship with my job?”

“You’re a damn fine doctor Y/N. You don’t need me to tell you that, you just need a clear head to realise it for yourself.”

Leonard led you out of the medbay shouting a mere, “I’m a doctor, not a motivational speaker damnit.” In place of his weekly briefing.

Together you walked the length of the ship. Leonard asked you more about your dreams presenting it as conversational but you could see the medical cogs in his brain turning. “You’ve never had psychological training?” Leonard asked at one point with a startled stopping of his feet.

“Psychological training? What med school did you go to?” Scoffing at his faith in The Academy.

“Not med school, but I did a fair whack before I joined Jim’s ground team. You’ve never had- my god! No wonder you’re wracked with guilt darlin’ that is- that is- how did you ever end up planetside?”

“I don’t know I’m just pretty handy with a phaser I guess.” You said as you arrived at a door with the letters C.M.O emblazed on the front. “Nice door. How come I’ve never been here?”

Leonard shrugged “ ‘s not my fault you prefer the desk.” He stated opening the door to his double sized room.

Smooth navy covered the walls, beautifully contrasting the deep wooden furniture and shelves of brown bottles. Surrounded by whiffs of comforting warm fires and cheap rum you watched as Leonard ordered on the lights and followed him through to the next room. There was no doubt that Leonard lived a full life back home. His living space was full of southern knick-knacks and photographs of people you’d never known. There was a small collection of silver neck chains on show, thoroughly worn although never while on shift and nine or ten small stacks of crime novels strewn across the floor.

“This might cheer you up sweetheart.” Leonard tossed his PADD onto his cracked brown leather couch and made his way to the back wall which was entirely concealed by a deep purple curtain. Taking a bundle of the thick fabric in his hands, he eyed you before trudging it across the room revealing a vast ceiling to floor window. You caught your reflection in the glass and clapped your mouth shut looking to Leonard in shock.

“Bit of a sick joke for an aviophobiac.” Leonard physically shuddered at the open black, “But if it makes you happy it’s worth it.”

Bounding over the top of Leonards sofa to get a better look, you gazed out over the space you’d called home for past three years. Something about the infinite expanse always grounded you. The lack of endings and the billions of possibilities that presented made all of your worries and problems seem positively insignificant. It left you searing with luck to be living regardless. You moved even closer letting your breath fog up the glass. Leonard moved behind you hugging you round the middle and resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Look at it Leonard. Isn’t it just-”

“Horrifying?”

“Do you really look at that and feel nothing?” You were aghast at the thought.

Leonard sighed “I appreciate the sentiment of it.” He concluded. “It reminds me of a Jorge Luis Borges quote.”

“I didn’t realise you were so well read.” You both shared another moment of genuine laughter, “What’s the quote?”

“He says, ‘I’m not sure I exist, actually. I am all the writers that I have read, all the people I have met, all the women that I have loved;” He squeezed your arm as he spoke “All the cities I have visited.’ Reminds me of you actually. All the lives you’ve saved in the medbay and planeside. You leave a part of you everywhere you go; that’s what I think is beautiful, doll.”

You turned to him. He held your gaze firmly and you knew he meant the words he’d spoken. You rested your head against his chest silently thanking him for his kindness, you knew he’d never let you say it out loud. This wasn’t your home, but Leonard smelled of home for we all leave a part of ourselves in those we love.

Together you turned the couch to face the window and under Leonard’s duvet slept a full night of dreamless sleep woken only by a PADD dropped on your chest with the same force you’d dropped at Leonard yesterday.

“Five days in the medbay.” He gestured towards the open rota displayed on the screen, “Two days off. Including Sunday.”

[veiledsilver]

What Your Favorite Black Bull Says About You

I’m sure this list has been made already, but has a list been made with these sizzling hot takes that are specifically mine? Doubt it. Before you go in, this list was made for fun and not an actual attack on your character lol

Asta: You don't have the patience for this wizardry book nonsense, not when all you need is your huge muscles and willingness to throw hands. Essentially you're this post:

Noelle: It doesn't matter whether you love or loathe her siblings, you all want them to be punished on such a grand scale it resets the karmic balance forevermore, preferably in a hilarious fashion. You also think her next few outfit spells should include pants and a sports bra so Tabata can't traumatize you ever again.

Magna: You like delinquent tough guys with hearts of gold, or you like underdogs who never actually get a mysterious powerup that make them strong- or both! In any case, Magna is your special little boy and when he did THAT in the manga you damn near exploded. If you haven't seen it yet... I guarantee you will.

Luck: You like characters that act all bright and cutesy but... deep inside their hearts... they harbor d̵͍̲͑ä̴̜̻́͝ṛ̷̗̑̇k̶̟̿͘n̵̮͈͑ẻ̴̥ş̸̪̐͊s̴̙̀̐. To be fair Luck does not hide his feral energy deep within his heart but you still like the contrast between his cute :D face and the way he causes bodily harm. His backstory spoke to you in some way.

Finral: Hm. I would say you relate to his struggles as the least favorite kid in the family, or feel like you can't keep up with your peers in general... but it's actually his dyed tips isn't it. Also you have to deal with people being like "but isn't he a pervert?!" like ALL the time even though he's trying to be better. My heart goes out to you.

Gauche: I don't know if you guys actually exist, but if you do, you probably have to deal with people being like "but doesn't he nosebleed over his sister?!" like ALL the time even though he also kills people for her. You wish he had more moments where he's cool and strong and not nosebleeding.

Charmy: You saw Charmy going around eating food to her heart's content and wearing a cute sweatshirt instead of participating in the stupid male gaze and said "oh, I respect that." You like the rare fictional women who participate in traditionally female roles like cooking but can also be terrifying on command.

Henry: Henry is your poor little meowmeow and you want to snuggle him and feed him soup. Like, I may be exaggerating, but am I wrong? You may also like how cool his magic is- I mean, rearranging buildings is a pretty slapping power- and that he can still play a role in fights without his disability magically being cured or handwaved away.

Zora: You want the heroes to destroy the system that thrives on classism and corruption, and are disappointed that Zora kind of stopped doing that. Sorry, bro, but this is a shounen, and 2/3rds of the Big Three ended with the corrupt system not being destroyed, so. I think you listen to songs about bringing down the Man and not wanting to be an American.

Secre: Let me guess, you watched Princess Tutu. Well, if you didn't, Secre fans, I suggest you do. You think you're emo and want to drown in those moody feelings because you like it or your crush turned out to be dating someone already. Do you make those artsy monochrome edits of anime characters with kpop idols because I always see Secre on there.

Vanessa: Look into my (metaphorical) eyes. Do you have a complicated relationship with your mother? Hm... I see... really?... ok... well, I'm glad we had this talk! Anyway I'm guessing you really, really like women. I think that should be our topic of conversation next time. Just make sure you look respectfully.

Gordon: You probably also have that problem where people can't hear you and they're like "SPEAK UP I CAN'T HEAR YOU" until you give up. I can relate. You... also... (mumble mumble mumble mumble mumble mumble mumble mumble. Mumble mumble mumble mumble).

Gray: You think shapeshifters are really cool and probably headcanon Gray as Not Cis in some way, which is extremely valid. You are proud of her for how she's starting to speak up and stand up for herself, although you might (like me) think she's way too good for Gauche. Sorry, Gauche fans. But she really is.

Yami: Quick! Close your eyes and visualize Yami! You didn't actually see Yami, did you. Only the wide expanse of his very defined abs. You either don't like Charlotte for being a homewrecker or you relate to her strongly. I don't think I've met even one Yami fan who hadn't been drawn to him for his tits you can crack walnuts in.

Nacht: If you went one anime generation back, you would be into Sasuke. I've never seen the show about Boruto's dad but I know this to be the case. They're both edgy, have dark powers, and have a tragic backstory involving their brothers. You want a significant other who's mean to everyone but you, but let's face it. Nacht will also be mean to you.

Morgen*: You want the illusion of the same thing, but you also actually want to be treated nicely instead of nitpicked for your flaws at all times. I know you have a fanfic of him not dying somewhere in your writing medium of choice. Come on, show it to us, don't be shy haha. Your fellow Morgen stans are withering away...

*I know he's a Grey Deer but I needed the joke to set up properly. Let me live