#still working on that steam backlog

[cellphishthekaiju]

I know this isn't much of a game and more of a silly promotion for Boltgun 2, since it took like 15-20 minutes to play, tops... BUT MAN WAS THIS FUN!! I'll play the actual Boltgun game soon but I love typing games and I couldn't just pass it up.

Giggling to myself the entire time, it was just so silly.

[sysig]

I'm almost finished with this notebook with it's horrible paper, and I just finished the first page of my Big Project

[thedailyvio]

Yearly recap and future plans

I don't believe I missed any days this year, but I still need to figure out why my day count was 1 off at some point.

I had a lot less time this year to dedicate to art, and there was a lot of stagnation because of it.

I'm picking a little at beginning to do some studies and style exploration, so I hope I can get more into that in '24

I didn't get a chance to do Any of last years goals very much, so here's to hoping '24 will pan out better.

As per the poll listed earlier this year (I was told there was 1 misclick) it looks like the plan for future posting will be:

Post days for the week will be on.... tentatively? Friday.

I will queue them across the length of the day.

Hopefully I can get back to a position where daily posting is possible, but for now I want to commit to something I can at least do consistently

(Not even sure yet if I will be able to be consistent with this, but will see)

[mephisto-reporting]

Dinner's Ready - Caleb Version

About: After a long and exhausting day filled with chores and responsibilities, the reader finds unexpected comfort and support from someone unexpected

Pairing: Reader x Caleb

Other men versions: Link

It had been one of those days.

Not just the kind that wore you down, but the kind that gnawed at your bones — the kind that made you feel like you were being pulled through molasses by invisible strings of responsibility, one painful inch at a time.

It started with a backlog of reports at work — documents you were sure you had submitted last week that had somehow disappeared into the void of a shared server. Your manager wasn’t accusatory, but the disappointment in their voice stung like a slap. Then came the broken office printer, followed by the passive-aggressive email thread from the finance department, and a series of back-to-back meetings that bled into your already overdue lunch hour.

By the time you wrapped up, your head was pounding and your muscles were stiff from sitting too long. But it wasn’t over. You still had to stop by the grocery store, where of course the one item you really needed was out of stock. The walk home felt twice as long as usual, even though it hadn’t changed in distance. The weight of your laptop bag pressed hard against your shoulder, the straps digging into your skin, and your feet dragged with every step.

Living alone had its perks, sure. Independence, freedom, the luxury of decorating your space just the way you liked it. But on nights like this, when the exhaustion from work melted into the ache of loneliness, it felt like you were shouldering the world with no one to lean on. And of course, Caleb was off-planet again. Some assignment on the outer rim of Deepspace Tunnel that required his presence as Colonel. He always promised to check in, but transmissions were often delayed, and more often than not, all you had were old messages and fading voice notes to fall asleep to.

Your apartment complex greeted you with silence. The lobby lights flickered, and even the elevator seemed to groan as if sharing your fatigue. When you finally reached your floor and unlocked your door, all you could think about was collapsing on the couch, laundry be damned.

But as you pushed the door open, something… strange happened.

Instead of the stale, slightly musty air of a home that had been empty for days, you were hit with warmth. Not just physical warmth, but the inviting kind — the kind that curled around you like a soft blanket. And there, threading through the air like a gentle whisper, was the most tantalizing aroma.

Spices.

Cardamom, clove, cinnamon — rich, earthy cumin, and the savory tang of turmeric and ginger blending together in a melody that made your stomach growl on instinct.

Your boots hit the entryway mat with a dull thud, your breath catching. The apartment, which you’d barely had the energy to tidy in recent days, looked pristine. Shoes neatly lined up. The living room throw folded just right. Even your desk, usually a chaos zone of papers and snack wrappers, was cleared.

And then you heard it.

A familiar voice humming low, off-key but unmistakably comforting, drifting from the kitchen.

You blinked as you stepped inside, and there he was.

Caleb.

Tall, solid, dark haired haired and still in his uniform—though his jacket was thrown over a chair and his sleeves were rolled up. He stood at the stove, spoon in hand, carefully adjusting the seasoning in a simmering pot of chicken curry. Beside it, a small pot of cumin rice steamed gently, the grains fluffy and fragrant.

He looked up just as you stepped fully into the doorway, and his face lit up like a kid on Christmas morning.

“Hey, princess,” he said, voice soft, eyes scanning you with immediate concern. “You look wrecked.”

You opened your mouth, but no words came. The sight of him—here, impossibly—hit you harder than anything else that day. You felt your body tilt toward him as though magnetized.

Caleb set the spoon down and crossed the kitchen in two long strides. He pulled you into his arms without hesitation, holding you in his warmth.

And suddenly, everything snapped. The dam cracked. The tears you’d been swallowing for days welled up and spilled silently into his chest as he ran a hand over your back, slow and grounding.

“You’re home,” you whispered, voice hoarse.

“I am,” he murmured into your hair. “Got back early. Thought I’d surprise you.”

He leaned back just enough to look at you, brushing your hair from your face. “You’ve been doing too much,” he said simply. “I could feel it, even when you pretend over the phone that everything is fine.”

You let out a shaky laugh that turned into a sob. His hold tightened.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered. “You don’t have to do everything alone. Not tonight.”

The words cracked something open in you. For the first time in weeks, the ache in your bones eased. The heaviness didn’t disappear, but it shifted—no longer yours to carry alone.

“Oh,” you whispered, shoulders sagging. “Caleb, I’m so tired…”

“I know,” he murmured “I know, princess.”

You buried your face in his shirt, inhaling the scent of spices and Caleb — warm, earthy, home. His fingers threaded through your hair, one hand rubbing soothing circles into your back.

“I cleaned up, too,” he said softly into your ear. “Ran a load of laundry, changed your bedsheets, and cooked something familiar. Chicken curry — with cumin rice. Just how you like it.”

You both settled onto the couch, plates balanced precariously on your laps. Caleb’s leg nudged yours, a small but grounding contact. The chicken curry steamed on both your plates.

He scooped up a generous bite of the chicken curry, the sauce clinging to the spoon with all the richness you craved. “Here,” he said, voice low, teasing, “try not to make that face again. It’s the one I love the most.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled, opening your mouth for the offered bite. The spices danced on your tongue, comforting and familiar. Caleb grinned. “Like it, princess? Only the best for my favorite.”

The scent of dinner lingered in the air long after you’d finished, but for the first time in weeks, you didn’t feel the crushing weight of being alone. Not tonight.

Tonight, Caleb was here.

And that made all the difference.

AN: reblogs, feedback and opinions are appreciated!

Taglist: @cordidy, @natimiles @leighsartworks216 @notisekais @raining4food @fallthelong @pomegranatepip @juliuscaesarsstabbedback @krystallevine @lemurianmaster @nenggie @loverindeepspace @sinsodom @lucifers-silhouette @sunsethw4 @kthehoeforfictionalmen @mentaltrouble2201 @seris-the-amious @cheezeandkrackers

[ladykailitha]

Staking My Claim Part 1

Hello! Because of my flu, I've been working on low stakes stuff to help with my foggy head. I promise this week to be back on to the WIPs I have going to be build up my backlog again.

This started off as a silly "let the boys be goofy" and turned into a "found family with ONE goofy moment in it". Sorry about that. I blame the cough medicine honestly.

***

Eddie and his friends were enjoying a rare night where they didn’t have to play at Cora’s Den in Indy when it happened.

Now, Cora’s Den wasn’t gay bar per se, but as it was one of the most inclusive places in Indy, the normies considered it one.

So when he came back from going to the bathroom he leaned into the center of their table so he could whisper. “Tell me that’s not Steve Harrington at the bar in a crop top and cutoffs.”

All three of his friends turned to the bar as one.

Gareth smacked his lips. “As much as I would love to, man, no can do.”

“And is he really flirting with that dude?” Eddie asked with a wince.

Jeff raised an eyebrow. “I’m seriously doubting that. Looks like Stevie could use a rescue.”

Eddie turned and looked over. Sure enough the guy that had been flirting with Steve had been replaced by a new guy. And one that didn’t look like he was getting the hint to fuck off.

“Go on,” Brian said. “You know you want to. He’s clearly got a thing for the guys and you might even get laid for the first time in months.”

Eddie nodded curtly and slapped the table. “Right.”

*

Steve was having a good time until this guy came along. He just wouldn’t take no for answer. He wasn’t looking to go home with anyone. His parents had just blown out of town again and Steve was looking for a way to blow off some steam. Relax after the last week of sheer exhaustion of dealing with them and their judgments. He usually went with Robin so that people would leave them alone. Only she had the late shift tonight and the early shift in the morning.

He was going to wait until the weekend when they could both go and have fun, but Robin insisted that he go, otherwise he’d be moping around Family Video all week. So he came out tonight, not really out to get drunk, or laid, just to have a good time.

This was not that.

Suddenly an unopened bottle of his favorite beer was being pressed into his hand as a warm arm wrapped around his waist.

“There you are, baby,” a soft voice cooed. “Sorry I’m late, work was a nightmare.”

Steve let himself relax into the man’s side. “I’m just glad you made it, Eds.”

Eddie grinned at him. “I swear old man Thacher is getting worse in his old age.”

Steve laughed. “I know, right? I went in for an oil change and he berated me for twenty minutes on why couldn’t I just do it myself.”

Eddie frowned. “Don’t you have a BMW that requires a special oil?”

Steve pursed his lips and nodded. “Yup!”

Eddie turned to look at the guy who was standing there with his mouth open. “Are you still here?”

The guy bristled. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but I was here first.”

“He’s my boyfriend,” Steve said, straightening up, but still remained plastered to Eddie’s side. “Eddie Munson. Lead singer and guitarist for Corroded Coffin. You know, the band that plays here every weekend?”

“Yup,” Eddie lied easily. “So where’s Birdie tonight? Working the late shift?”

“Ha!” the man snapped. “That’s not his friend’s name. His friend’s name is Robin! I knew you were a fake.”

Eddie blinked at him as if the man had grown three heads. “Robin Buckley. Robin is a bird. Bird plus Buckley, ergo Birdie. I have nicknames like that for all my friends. And any friend of Stevie’s is a friend of mine.”

Steve rubbed his nose along Eddie’s jaw affectionately. “And how did you know what her name was?” he asked, not even looking at the guy. “I don’t think I recall seeing you around before.”

The man’s face paled and he turned on his heel, storming off in a huff.

“Thanks for that,” he murmured into Eddie’s ear. “I’m usually pretty good at getting assholes to lay off, but he wouldn’t take no for answer.”

“Your inner mean girl couldn’t make him go away?” Eddie whistled. “That is persistent.”

Steve giggled. Then he blushed and looked down. That was when he remembered the drink in his hand. “So what’s with the unopened beer?”

“I didn’t want you to think I was another creep by bringing you an open bottle.”

Steve looked up at him and blinked a couple of times. “Wow, you really are my knight in leather armor tonight.”

Eddie took the bottle and popped it open with his bulky ring on his middle finger. “There you go.”

“That was so hot,” Steve said stupidly.

Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “Duly noted.”

*

Steve was invited back to their table and had an absolute blast.

He was coming back from the bar with a couple of drinks in his hands when someone bumped into him, almost making him spill the drinks.

“Hey, watch it!” he hissed.

Immediately Eddie was at his side in an instant.

“You okay?” he asked taking a couple of the drinks from him.

“Yeah,” Steve groused. “Just some asshole not watching where he was going. I didn’t even get a drop on my shoes.”

Eddie snickered. “Yeah, okay. You and your jock reflexes.”

Steve leaned over and whispered, “I’m also very flexible in bed.”

“As in top or bottom or are we talking positions?” Eddie asked, running his tongue over his bottom lip slowly.

“Both.”

Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “No need to go so hard, baby. I was already wanting to take you home with me tonight.”

“What about your friends?” Steve asked grinning back. “It sounded like you all share the apartment.”

“We have a signal for if we bring anyone back,” Eddie assured him. “Also we know to keep it down because the apartment walls are thin and not just inside the apartment.”

Steve’s mouth formed an O. “I got you.”

He knew there were pros and cons to living in an apartment. Having your neighbors that close were definitely a con.

“You still living at home?” Eddie asked as they made their way through the crowd.

Steve nodded. “Yeah. It’s not like my parents are ever there. Though it would just be my luck that they’d come home while I’m out the queerest bar in Indy.”

“Not a fan of queers?” he asked once they reached the table.

“They’re fans of Reagan,” Steve said with a grimace. “I’m pretty sure that automatically puts them on the opposing team.”

The entire table recoiled in sympathy.

“Fuck, that’s harsh!” Jeff said. “Thankfully my parents aren’t Reagan supporters, though they have raised many an eyebrow at Eddie here.”

Eddie face turned into a feral grin.

Brian shrugged. “My parents don’t care as long Eddie doesn’t shove it down their throats.”

Steve rolled his eyes. That old nugget. Walking down the street holding hands with someone of the same gender was shoving it down their throats as far as they were concerned.

Gareth looked at his friends wide eyed. “Um...sucks to be you guys I guess, but my parents adore Eddie, don’t mind him or I being gay and threatened to sue the school over the devil worshiping allegations about our D&D club. So...”

“Three cheers for the Hughes family!” Eddie said.

They all cheered and clanked their glasses together. They downed their drinks and roared with unrestrained joy.

Steve could feel a rush of blood around his ears. The room faded in and out and it sounded like Eddie and his friends were under water. He staggered off his stool and nearly stumbled to the floor.

Then the world went black.

***

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Also I'm not sure if this post canon or no monster AU. I can't decide, but it's ambiguous either way.

Permanent Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @vecnuthy @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @littlewildflowerkitten @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @irregular-child

[lelengerine]

hii, still the Sohee anon but yeah sure!! if it's still available then give him that song JSJFJDKRKDL

͙͙͘͘͡͡★ how to... coffee?

song prompt. “you were struggling with the coffee machine at the convenience store i work at, so i helped you once—now you pretend to ‘forget’ how it works just so i’ll come over and fix it every morning.”

pairing. sunshine loser!sohee x grumpy!reader

tags. inspired by the song gpt - stayc, strangers to acquaintances (?), reader is a little mean in the beginning (just a smidge!), mentions of food, no prns are used for reader, sohee may be a little cringe… but that’s MY loser…. i think he’s cute 😞

wc. 1.3k words

notes. last drabble for this event i cant believe its over <//3 i wanna give a big apology to u anonie cause it took me so long to get here 😭😭 but anyways, i hope u still enjoy it!! likes, reblogs, and feedback are very much welcome <3

꒰ m.list | event m.list ꒱

beep.

you weren’t usually sensitive to sound.

hell, a couple could be having a fight in the middle of a cafe and you wouldn’t even bat an eye in their direction, so pray tell why you’re suddenly disturbed now that a customer was clearly having difficulty using the vending machine at the convenience store you worked at part-time?

was it the lack of sleep gnawing at your sanity from the night prior because of the assignments in your backlogs? or maybe it was the fact that it was barely 5 a.m., only the start of your morning shift, and the fluorescents were already giving you a headache.

beep. beep. beep.

with a low huff from your chest, you get up from your position behind the cash register and make your way over to the poor customer. by the coffee machine, you find a boy your age, a hoodie over his head as his eyes try to blink away the sleep remaining in them. his hand hovered hesitantly over the panel of glowing buttons, clearly wondering why he couldn’t quite understand the machine's deep hatred for him.

honestly, he looked a little like a helpless baby chick and if you were in a better mood, you might’ve even found him cute, but in the moment, all you could respond with was a flat, “you press the button after the cup’s in place.”

your words came out a little sharper than you intended, feeling a bit apologetic towards the boy as you purse your lips together. his head whips towards your direction, hoodie shifting slightly and revealing a bundle of messy dark hair and a fringe that’s fighting for its life underneath.

oddly enough, it only proves your first impression of him. 

a little… pitiful.

“oh,” he replies, as if only realizing he was doing it wrong this entire time. “that makes sense.”

you didn’t bother answering. instead, you took the paper cup from the stack, slid it into place, and pointed at the correct button. your finger lingered for a second before you tapped it yourself, watching as the machine finally sputtered to life, hissing steam and dispensing liquid salvation.

“see?” you muttered, already turning away. “not that hard.”

“mhm, yeah. i think i get it a bit more now.” he nods along, eyes watching as the coffee cup fills to the brim. “i’m sohee by the way.”

you’re not quite sure why he had decided to introduce himself, but it would have been rude to ignore him so you told him your name in return. he was a customer after all.

“you’re a lifesaver, by the way!” he calls after you with a lopsided grin, but you don’t answer this time, thinking that was probably going to be the last interaction you were going to have with him.

this was all going to be a one time thing now that you’ve helped him out… or so you thought—until the beeping returned the next day.

you peered over the register, rising from your crouched position like a storm cloud, and sure enough—hoodie boy was back, standing by the coffee vending machine again, and you swear on your measly hourly wage that he’s not even trying.

“your cup is upside down.”

he looked up like a kid caught sneaking snacks before dinner. “hey,” he said, eyes lighting up as if the two of you had decided to become friends after yesterday’s events. “fancy seeing you here.”

“i work here,” you deadpan.

“right. right.” he nods, scratching the back of his head awkwardly, “that makes sense.” 

you don’t bother asking what doesn’t make sense to him. instead, you walk over to grab the cup he had placed, fix it to the proper orientation, and press the right button with the ease of someone who’s done this dance one too many times.

“you know,” you start, watching the paper cup fill up, “it’s not rocket science.”

“but it is a pretty complex machine,” he counters innocently, “like, what even is a lungo?”

you blink. “…do you even know what you ordered?”

“no idea.” he quips without missing a beat, taking the cup of coffee once it was filled to the brim and the machine made a little jingle. he takes a sip of it like some taste tester before looking at you, wide-eyed. “it tastes good though!”

he gave you a thumbs-up after his rating and you could only blink at him. once, then twice. the clock read 5:11 a.m. and he was way too cheerful for someone who was allegedly sleep-deprived.

“whatever,” you said with the shake of your head, turning back toward the counter. “i’m going back now.”

“okay, see you tomorrow!”

tomorrow?

you frowned slightly but dismissed the thought—until he did show up again.

and again.

it wasn’t until day eight that you gave in and decided to question him—arms crossed, brows arched in thinly veiled suspicion—as you spotted his now-familiar figure hunched by the machine once more. 

“what are you trying to achieve here?” 

“what do you mean?”

“you act like you don't know how this damned machine works when ive been demonstrating how to order your own coffee the past few days!”

he opened his mouth only to quickly close it as if he’d just lost the answer he was about to tell you. now rocking on his heel, he scratched his cheek, looking mildly sheepish. “…maybe i just like the customer service?”

you just stared at him and he could sense your confusement from a mile away, causing him to clear his throat and regain composure. “…that was a joke,” he clarified quickly. “mostly. kind of.”

you could only react with a single blink and the silence only egged him to dig a deeper hole for himself.

“uh.” his ears went bright red. “i just liked seeing you. i mean—like—not in a creepy way! in a normal human interaction kind of way, you know? not that i think you’re abnormal. you’re not! like, you’re kinda cool in a way that’s—ugh, i’m not saying this right.” he deflated, using the coffee cup to shield his face as if it’d cover him up entirely. “i should probably stop talking.”

you fought back a laugh at the sight of the fidgeting boy in front of you. “probably.”

“okay.” he nodded quickly. “cool… shutting up now.” he took a long sip of his coffee like it would erase the last thirty seconds of his life. 

but alas, it did not.

“…i really do think the machine’s too complex, though,” he muttered after a beat, eyes still glued to the floor.

“sure,” you drawled, no longer hiding your intrigue for the boy. “totally. i believe you..”

“it has… buttons. those are hard to comprehend.”

“terrifying i bet.”

“and multiple cup sizes,” he added, voice small. “that’s like… too much for an indecisive person.”

you snorted—sharp, sudden, and entirely unintentional. the sound cracked through the air before you could help it, and for a second, even you looked surprised. sohee’s head snapped up immediately, eyes wide like he’d just witnessed a miracle. if he could’ve framed that laugh and hung it on a wall, he would have.

“see?” he said, tone light but laced with something gentler underneath. “that’s what i was going for. not trying to get us kicked out for laughing too loud in public or anything, but hey—i'll take what i can get.”

you rolled your eyes, but the corners of your lips betrayed you, curling into a smile despite yourself. something in your chest softened—a tightness loosening you hadn’t even realized was there. he noticed it, too. of course he did.

“okay, coffee boy,” you murmured, voice quieter now, almost fond. “i’ll see you tomorrow? same time?”

sohee's grin widened into something brighter, something unguarded. he leaned back slightly, the light catching in his eyes like they were made to reflect it. “for sure,” he said, like it was a promise.

and maybe it was.

[nabs-draws]

Some doodles from days where I felt a little off.

I know it's just a lot of whining from my part but currently deal with a lot of self doubt, especially with my art. "are the things I'm doing really as good as everyone says?" "I kind of don't like the work I do, but I see improvement...so it can't be that bad, right?"

Maybe I'm just struggling a bit with burnout again. My confidence will come back for sure.. Maybe I should take a little break and start playing some games from my Steam backlog just to unwind a bit.

By the way, for all the Beyblade fans: I still want to draw Kai related images. I have a backlog of cat/Human references and they keep staring at me. Yet my head is stuck in that thought of "But you need to work on your portfolio Nabs" kind of thought , which kinda sucks...But these drawings will come for sure! I also planned a KH drawing with out main trio... And I also figure out ways to draw Kim Kitsuragi because he is simply best boy (and I recently finished playing Disco Elysium ...so...that's about that). And I want to draw a Käärijä vs Baby Lasagna Image too...and there is this Gorillaz Fanart I have in mind for a while...and Omori fanart... And I want to draw more Evangelion Fanart...jesus christ, my head has a hard time coming up with original ideas lately...

yeah , anyway. I'm in a bit of a weird mood today~ Hope y'all are doing great tho!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Detour 7

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Thor

Summary: You find yourself stranded in a small village.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You return to the hotel now less agitated than when you left. The longer you’re stranded in this sleepy village, the more exasperated you grow. You just don’t understand. You took every measure to make sure your vacation is perfect and you were sidelined by a damned axel. You will be having a long conversation with the man who did your oil back in the city. Empty promises are not good business. 

As you cross the lobby, you slow and peer around. That chirpy woman isn’t behind the counter. The place is almost desolate. You shrug and carry on up the stairs. Wouldn’t that be amusing if that oaf’s party turned out to be a bust? Who in their right minds would put so much energy into spending a single moment with the brute? 

Housekeeping has tended to your room. Fresh linens and even a new bottle of wine. You suppose that might be another pitiful attempt to lure you down to kickoff of Thor’s midlife crisis. You ignore it and focus on what you can enjoy. There isn’t much for you there but a hot bath sounds wonderful. 

You take your time, undressing, stretching, sifting through hotel samples. They smell of artificial rose. A pre-packaged migraine. You retrieve your toiletry bag as the tub fills slowly.  

As you sink into the steam pool, the first sign of trouble sounds from below. The blaring hum of bass thrums through the floor. You sigh as the contents of the bath shelf rattle. Great, so much for relaxation. That’s all you want after the last few days. You’ve been wound tight by that ox of a man and this boorish place; not too mention that fool who interrupted your coffee in town. This village breeds inanity. 

Your obstinacy keeps you submerged, just until the water grows cold. Still, you are tense and irritated, annoyed by even the sound of your own breath. You release the stopper and climb out, drying off with the plush towel. At least the amenities are acceptable. 

You hang the towel and wrap yourself in the rope. The hotel’s wireless should do for an episode or two of your weekly indulgence. You’ve a backlog to catch up after the last few weeks of tireless work and preparations.  

It would be a shame to put the wine to waste. You uncork the bottle and pour a glass. You set up your phone on the bed, propping it up with your purse and recline against the fluffed pillows with the rose. The subtitles are much too small on the screen to accommodate for the constant haze of noise from below. 

You give up, frustrated at straining to track the arguments of spoiled wives and eccentric widows, and turn off the show. Something to look forward to. Later. You put the phone face down on the night table and empty the glass. 

You rise to replenish the crystal and sift out the single book your brought along as Plan B. You never know when you might be bored out of your mind but you hard think the novel will withstand this monotony. You resume your laze in bed, this time with pages beneath your thumbs, and furrow your brow at the prose. 

Barely a few pages before you are once more torn from any semblance of content. You growl and slam the book shut. The music is louder now. Oh, that overgrown ape must be living it up. You can’t help but think it’s purposeful. He know he has guests, rather a guest, and yet he carries on so. 

Well, he will not get to you. You will not give him the pleasure of disturbing you. Not any further than he already has. 

You shove the book aside and grab a pillow. You are rather tired, as it were. You will need rest for tomorrow when you march down to the mechanic’s shop and demand that he fixes your car. At once. You cannot bear another day of this hole. 

You squeeze your eyes shut and smirk at the fantasy of your unbreakable will. Like a conquering warrior, you will not be beat back this time. You must escape from this place before you snap. A whole vacation planned on the premise of letting go and you are more stressed than ever. It is that cruel irony which has followed you through much of your existence. 

You manage to reach that foggy state right before the drop off. In a moment it dissipates. There’s a clamour in the hall and the high-pitch of a giggle, then another, followed by a booming thunder. Ugh, absolutely ridiculous. It sounds as if it’s right outside your very door. 

You toss the pillow away from your head as your temper razes through you. That’s it. You’re done being the better person. You will be the banshee everyone thinks you to be. 

You hop up and storm across the room. You rip open the door and snarl, “would you keep it down?!” 

You are faced by a rather dopey looking trio. Two girls with a drunken glaze in their eyes and the hotel’s resident idiot; Thor. He smirks as the girls stagger around and babble, ignoring you as they grab at his thick arms. 

“Come on, Thor, you said we could see the honeymoon suite,” one whines. 

“Who even comes here--” the other hiccups, “for their honey--” hiccup, “moon?” 

It’s a fair question. You roll your eyes as Thor takes the girls beneath his arms, sending you a pointed look, “ah, don’t worry, girls, I’ll show exactly why anyone might come to Thunder Lane to unleash their darkest desires, eh?” He turns them away and you snarl at his back, “you’ll like the shower head.” 

He chortles loudly and you gasp. Disgusting. You swing the door shut and stomp your foot. More than the village itself, you detest that man. You almost feel bad for those dumb girls. They look much too young for him. Does he really think the silver strands blend so well into the golden blond? Well, you wouldn’t assume wisdom comes with age in that one. 

You pace back and forth, arms crossed, trying to figure some way to settle down. You don’t want to spend the whole night annoyed by that man and his drunken guests. You paid for your room. You paid for peace and quiet. 

You will not be riled any further. You are smarter than him. You are smarter than all of them.  

You finish the glass of wine and find your sleep mask along with the pair of earbuds that came with the emergency travel kit you found at the bookshop. It seemed ridiculous at the time but at least it has proven a sound purchase. You put the silk over your eyes and push the buds into your ears. You once more bury your head under the pillows as you let the dreamy tones of the Carpenters lull you. 

The wine helps. You feel yourself drifting as the drumming softens and the woodwinds blend in with Karen’s heavenly voice. Your breaths thicken and catch in your nose, rolling into snores you can hear through your half-sleep. 

The 70s pop fades away as you roll onto your back, the pillow slipping from over your head. Dazed and dozy, you lay in darkness, the pulsing of bass still rumbling through the mattress beneath you. You groan as your lashes flick against the sleep mask. You reach to remove it but a vice closes around your wrist, then the other. 

The bed jostles again. It's more than the thumping speakers below, there’s someone else there. You whimper as your arms are pinned beside you and a weight straddles your middle. A rolling thunder seeps into your ears as hot breath fans over you. 

“Don’t think I forgot about you, sweetheart,” Thor’s devilish baritone sends a shiver through you as he grinds his pelvis against yours, “time for you to join the party.”  

[oneknightstand-if]

Love your work!! I'm super curious though, have you played disco elysium? Your writing reminds me so much of it! I keep hearing the voice of the narrator of that game while reading yours. Plus, Harry Dubois is absolutely a cloudcuckoolander MC.

Nope, I haven't played Disco Elysium. I don't play normal video games too much since a lot of them make me motion sick. (Although looking at Disco Elysium's game play, that top down style is usually okay for me to play safely.)

I've make a mental note to try it at some point, but my Steam backlog is freaking huge (even with a bunch of AAA games getting disqualified for motion sickness, there's a bunch of indie visual novels, hidden item, point & click and such that I can still play).

[centrally-unplanned]

I actually never finished my "2024 in Review" posts because some life stuff got in the way - too late for any media review stuff to be that relevant, but for myself I wanted to review my own projects from the period. I post a lot of random stuff obviously but I do have that "I try to be a real writer & more" instinct going on, and I wanted to reflect on how those all turned out. Let's see what I accomplished last year - warning for a very "me" post up ahead:

2024 Stuff I Liked Post - My Own Stuff!

FLCLick Noise Book Translation: Finished February of 2024! Obviously a ton of that work happened in 2023, definitely seems like another time, but it counts. For a project that I knew would be way too niche to ever have much reception, I was very happy with the few-but-notable people who read it and clearly used it to expand their FLCL knowledge for their own projects (seeing "my" words in a YouTube video was kinda cool!). I still resonate with my write-up above - in so many ways this was an incredibly inefficient acquisition of knowledge, I could have just summarized the book in one post for people. But by hyper-analyzing every line as needed for translation, I dove far deeper into the material than any other method would allow, and all the little facts and asides - each useless trivia in isolation - built up into enough force to break through the wall and see the work in a whole new way. FLCL is forever imprinted on me; not just as a show, but as a process of understanding.

My reflection here is also somber though in that I do feel like I dropped the ball halfway. All projects have this feeling, to be clear - the idea that it could be "more", a stepping stone to something greater, is a siren call that your own abilities and available time can never really heed. Still, for FLCL I definitely had the idea of something bigger - a sort of complete "documentary archive" for the work. I had all these other sources that I half-collected over time; I posted the translation of the FLCL Proposal & Early Drafts, I posted a scan of the GAINAX Interviews Tsurumaki Section, and ofc scattered throughout my blog is a dozen other FLCL stuff. But I never actually read & wrote a summary of that latter interview, and I posted about importing this other 2010's interview but I never scanned it or read it! I just ran out of steam, as people do. Now I am far enough removed from it that pivoting back to it involves digging up emotional energy that has settled down. There are a bunch of random things I have found and imported that I never got to really discuss, so clearing that backlog is on my agenda this year and that will include some of the above. But the bigger project...I will have to think on that.

Fortunately the book stands alone, and I can take pride in that as a true-blue archival work of anime history. Which, you know, is pretty sad to take pride in - but whatever, welcome to Tumblr.

Welcome to The Bronze: This one was just a lot of fun to write. You can't plan kismet like this; sometimes you just stumble upon a documentary by a bunch of buffy nerds waging the culture war of its time and setting you up to discover a really damn interesting chapter of the history of the early internet! I liked this work because it stretched me a bit - I hadn't blended that "documentary history of the internet" angle with a media review quite so aggressively as this, and the concept fits my whole vibe really well. I think I did a good job crystalizing the fights & obsessions of an era now lost, which is one of things I like doing the most in my "work".

And I hadn't really tackled something this deeply in the western fandom space! I will ofc still do anime stuff but I do want to broaden myself a bit more - you gotta find the spark but they are out there for sure. And not gonna lie, not having a massive language barrier made things a ton easier lol. One of my top goals for 2025 is building on this a bit and making sure I tackle projects in new spaces beyond my niches.

On reviewing it I think I could have been nicer to the documentary? I am a quipping asshole after all, I like that stylistically. But I do think how much I like these people comes through, so I don't think it is a huge problem.

The director of this movie lives in the DC area by the way. I have, many times over the past months, thought about emailing her and asking if she would do an interview. Or just shoot the shit over coffee about something from 20 years I am sure she has no interest in remembering lol. Maybe I will run into her someday...

The Dai Nippon Controversy: This is the "weeb" version of The Bronze post, a shoulders-deep wade through a pool of completely arcane fandom drama lost to time, that just so happened to circle some immensely important people in the history of anime "before they were cool". I love this essay - it was pure luck to stumble on the source material, the people of the era positively vibrate with the sense that what they are doing is ~Important~ in a way you can never really muster today, and I was able to connect that to my wider themes of shifts in the otaku subculture. It both stands alone and is data from that mythical "history of otakudom" I am always building in my mind.

It was also just a real stretch to research, combining going through Yahoo auction listings for preview photos of relevant articles and combining them with archived Dutch Sci Fi magazines, and through that source diversity I got a better look at this time than I think I could have otherwise. Sometimes it all comes together!

California Crisis: A small one to wrap this up, I liked this piece because at this point I really don't do "straight" media analysis any more? It doesn't really excite me, not the way some of my older posts do. But I can still enjoy it with the right framing, and the way I blended archival work, the "narrative" around the piece in western culture, and a true-blue "what are the themes of this work" explanation made me like doing it again. Like so many of my essays, I liked California Crisis beforehand as a silly little OVA, but now I love it because I spent the time with it. It is nice to go back to those days sometimes. This was an "attack of opportunity" essay for sure, you can't force it, but when it works it works.

---

Anyway, those are my good works - a bunch of this is repetitional from previous posts, but that is the point of a year-end wrap-up! Though there is something I wanted to note - what isn't on the list. Namely, any of my writings on politics, economics, or history. In certain sense this isn't fair - The Swing Won't Save You is a perfectly good essay for example, I think it came out well. But it was "easy" to write, I did not put my nose to the grindstone to make it, or grow in the telling. I remember it because it has a snazzy title if we are being honest! And so on for many other posts that did have effort put into them. Maybe I am missing some I should single out, I didn't do an every-post dive into my archive (I should do that honestly!) or anything.

But I think I just failed to prioritize real-deal essays in the space this year and that was a mistake. Inspiration, the distraction of the election, comparative advantage (I am a middling political commentator, but "within the space" I think I add some real value on the anime & media history stuff), all that contributed to that failure. And no harm in that, I post for fun and none of this matters. I still want to "do better" this year though - one of my big goals is to really tackle some deeper political-historical works. I have some ideas in that space, so it is time to put this into practice.

[cellphishthekaiju]

The past couple of months I've been playing the OG Syberia...

Unfortunately, despite how much I was enjoying this game and it's quirky and overly convoluted story, I managed to soft lock the game while following a guide (why do people suck at writing Walkthroughs, ESPECIALLY for older games) that would require me to reload back a few hours and I just wasn't feeling it. I had taken a nearly 2 month break from playing as well, so a bit disappointing I won't get to finish but I plan on revisiting when I have more free time to actually focus on it.

I do love me some classic point and click adventure/puzzle games and this was a good one... though wtf is this story?

[hn-undercover-9503]

going through my backlog documents again and I uncovered this, it's from a project I honestly don't know if I'll ever finish but I thought I'd share some of it anyway bc I liked the concept of this fic a lot

The atmosphere in the holding cell was a far cry from what it normally was.

On a normal day, he would get to laugh and tease the pretty sheriff until there was practically steam coming out of his ears and he was too flustered to even speak. But today, Tango could tell that wasn't the way to go.

"Yo, uh, Sheriff? You…wanna tell me what's going on in that big beautiful brain of yours?"

The sheriff looked upset, except not in the usual I'm pretending to be angry to try and intimidate the prisoners kind of way–no, he looked actually upset. He kept jumping from paper to paper and shelf to shelf, never really focusing on anything. After about an hour, which was usually the point at which Tango would have made the slip already, he finally decided he couldn't ignore it anymore.

Immediately, he was given a harsh glare, which was quickly followed by a loud groan and a sigh. The Sheriff dropped the pen he'd been pretending to work with and tossed his head over the back of his chair.

"It hasn't got anything to do with you."

Tango shrugged, leaning back with his grip on the bars keeping him upright. "Oh, I dunno, maybe I could help. Just thinkin'."

The Sheriff sighed again. And just when Tango was sure he wasn't going to respond, he mumbled, "It's my ex,"

Tango did a double-take. "Your…ex?"

"Yes,"

"As in, ex-partner? Ex-romantic partner? A person you used to be in a relationship with?"

He rolled his eyes. "No, my ex-brother–yes, my ex-romantic partner, or my ex-boyfriend I should say."

"You have an ex-boyfriend?" He exclaimed, genuinely surprised. How had he never heard of this before? And here he thought he knew everything about his favorite sheriff.

"It's a long story. But recently, I heard he started seeing someone else, and I'm…oh, forget it, this is stupid."

"No no no, s'not stupid!" Tango pushed aside the slight sting at the implication that his sheriff still had feelings for another guy, caring more about how he could make him feel better. "What's his name?"

"His name is Scott."

Tango's eyes widened. "Scott? As in Scott Smajor, the owner and proprietor of the underground black market?"

The Sheriff shot him a dirty look. "And how do you know about the black market, huh?"

"Hey, I'm not the one who dated him." He raised his hands in surrender. "Besides, he's got a reputation for being a bit of an ass."

"He's not–just because he doesn't take people's garbage doesn't make him rude." He groaned. "Oh great, I'm defending him now! I really am pathetic."

“Aw, you're not pathetic, Sheriff.” Tango leaned back against the bars. “I think it's cute.”

“Cute? You think being hung up on an ex who's clearly moved on already cute?”

“Well how do you know he's moved on?” Tango asked.

The Sheriff sighed again, slumping down in his chair. “I got a report that he was seen slipping around with some guy.”

“That doesn't mean anything–maybe it's a new customer he's got.”

“Slipping around corners to make out with his customers?”

Tango shrugged. “Well, I dunno what he's got going on! Maybe it's a special service or something.”

The Sheriff groaned. “Okay, gross. Why haven't you left already, anyway? We both know you could've been out of here hours ago.”

Tango put on his best pouty face, reaching through the bars to brush a finger over his sheriff's arm. “Aw, but I love our time together, Sheriff. Why would I wanna give that up?”

He glared, clearly not feeling up to their usual bantering. “I'm going to go get more coffee.” He said tiredly as he stood from his desk and made for the door.

Tango watched him go with a frown. When the door clicked shut, he reached into his back pocket and produced the key to the cell, unlocking it and scaling the wall to get to the window. It popped open just as easily as it always did. As he looked back at the office and holding cell, a cold, heavy feeling settled in the pit of his stomach.

He needed to do something.

[marinsawakening]

I don't know how to say this without coming across like I'm bragging about being morally superior (I'm not) but whever a Direct or an E3 thing or whatever happens and I see people discuss what they will and what they won't buy I'm just like. We're never getting out of this hole huh.

The idea of a Switch 2 disgusts me. The neverending train of slight technological upgrades for playthings at direct cost of the lives of the people who mine for it and work to build it is disgusting. The idea of people even considering paying for it is insane to me. Before you ask yes I was also disgusted by the 3DS and Wii U the Switch is not special. IF I buy the Switch 2 it'll be years from now secondhand, likely after they've already stopped producing it, as I did with my 3DS. I'll def miss new Zelda games and other games that I'd find fun and will play them years later if at all, but like. Who cares. There's such a massive backlog of great video games on the Switch alone, why the hell would I shill out for a new system so I can buy new games as they come out? Nintendo is not getting a dime from me.

And all these overpriced €60+ games and endless mediocre spin-offs and 'HD' re-releases or subscription services to play games that are decades old, like. It's fucking criminal to me. I'm not paying Nintendo for that and it's insane to me that ppl are. I did not pay Nintendo for a single Zelda game I played. I pirated them, bought them secondhand, or in the case of Age of Calamity, played it on my friend's account for free. I watched people rush to buy Echoes of Wisdom at the full €60 price as soon as it released much the same way you'd watch lemmings dive off a cliff. I waited a few months and got it secondhand for half the retail price. It's a game that's like maybe a sixth the scale of BOTW and it's retailing only about €10 cheaper, and we KNOW it's not worth that, we all know and complain about it, and then people pre-order it anyway??? It's just insane to me.

All this while there's a thriving indie game scene where you can get brilliant games for a fraction of the price or entirely for free. Ppl are paying €60 for a game when Undertale is on Steam for €10. Literally why the fuck would you do that.

Like I'm truly not trying to be all morally superior here, I run a damn LOZ blog, I am not immune to large unethical media franchises (or poor financial decisions, for that matter), but the sheer ubiquity of it. The fact that no matter how much anyone complains about broken game releases or unethical business practices every single goddamn cash grab will still make millions if not billions of dollars. That ppl can't even simply wait a few months to buy a game secondhand, that the idea of not playing the latest installment in a popular game franchise they like is so unbearable they'll play it regardless of quality, buy it overpriced, buy a whole damn useless new game console just to keep up with future releases... It's so disheartening to me. We're never fucking getting out of this hole are we.

In conclusion: consider putting the money you would've spent on the Switch 2 or The Legend of Zelda: Link's Asscrack or whatever on indie games on itch.io instead.

[mister-e-muss]

Time for the first backlog report from 2025

Super Mario RPG:

It truly is remarkable just how much this game has done. This was originally a Super Nintendo game created jointly by Square Enix. So very much of it has gone on to become Mario RPG foundations. A penchant for humor, actions that require timings for the player to squeeze the most damage out of, even playable Bowser all got its start here.

Even without much of the extended lore and ideas from the Mario universe, square managed to craft an excellent game with a fun world and an engaging, if rather simple story.

Yoko Shimamura does excellent work in the soundtrack, making something that sounds very Mario while also sounded very distinct. (Although I am of the opinion that the remake’s version doesn’t quite have the same impact.)

As an added bonus: It’s Short. For the genre, 12 hours is Nothing. I’m finding that to be a plus more and more, because if I’m not having fun, it can’t drag on. Even games I like can get weary when I’m on hour 50 of 100. Being able to finish this on a trip was a great experience.

Final Fantasy IX:

The right game can come at the wrong time. Some of them that you may have not liked at first deserve second chances. This was my experience with Final Fantasy IX. I’d started it in college, but found that it didn’t quite grab me for how hyped its fans talk about it. (Renowned YouTube personality ProJared goes so far as to describe it as ‘the platonic ideal of Final Fantasy.’) I initially found its characters to be one-note, and its world to be bland and uninteresting. I’m someone who always appreciates a dash of science to my fantasy, and the way VII and VIII blurred the lines between genres was one of the things that set them apart from dozens of other games. My initial feeling was that in trying to pursue idealized fantasy, Square had forgotten to make anything unique in this world. I was about seven hours in, just past Gizamaluke, and not really disabused of this opinion when I forgot about this game entirely.

Then, late last year, I decided to restart the game and see if it could grab me this time. And I loved it.

While the soundtrack is far from my favorite in the series, it’s still solid and provides more variety than I initially thought. The characters are charming, and the variation in their design makes for an interesting art style. Any complaints I had about IX perhaps lacking in imagination were completely blown out by the time I reached Cleyra. (Giant tree in the desert protected by giant sandstorm is such a tasty idea.) Even the supposed ‘pure fantasy’ complaint was undermined by mist technology and steam engines and artificially created Black Mages. Then the Invincible and Garland showed up and I had no legs to stand on.

I will say though that the ATB in this one was slow. The bars themselves fill up at a moderate pace, Haste is a late game ability, and there’s a noticeable pause between when you click on an option and when it happens. When you have all four party members, you’re basically just playing with regular turns. Previous games had magic take a few moments to cast depending on how strong it is, so you could squeeze in a Phoenix down while your healer was ready to cast. Here, actions play out exactly as they’re entered.

One thing that I can praise without caveat is the equipment and ability system. I initially took it to be grind-y and slow. Then I found out that you could learn abilities twice as fast if you have two pieces with the same ability on it, and the AP went from one of my least favorite aspects, to probably one of my favorite progression systems in FF. It’s nowhere near as deep or complex as the Materia and “Whatever-The-Hell-VIII-had-going-on” systems, but it’s also nowhere near as unwieldy. At it’s best, you have a system that lets you focus down more vital abilities while saving larger abilities as long-term goals.

If I were somehow in charge of a remake of IX, there are only a few adjustments I’d make.

1. Speed up the battles. Don’t change gameplay genres entirely, because the turn based gameplay isn’t something that needs ‘solving,’ but maybe make it so that my party doesn’t have a giant backlog of actions to take.

2. Voice acting. This game has plenty of cinematography and vibrant character design. Add a capable voice cast and these characters can truly live.

3. Make unavailable party members give up their equipment. Or at least allow the player to tweak their equipment even outside of the party. (It gets tiring buying two sets of armor because you can’t remember if you have enough for Steiner and Freya both.)

4. Maybe touch up the localization. There’s nothing grievously wrong with it, but Kuja probably shouldn’t talk quite so casually, considering the piano and class he has going on in his theme. (Freya didn’t read quite right to me either. IDK, someone who knows the Japanese script, correct me if I’m wrong.)

[jbbartram-illu]

Real person message!! When making your sculptures (or other things too really!) do you ever get bored of making the same kind of guy many times? And if yes, do you have a way to spice up the process, or do you prefer to just move on to something new? (I love your work a ton! Both when the types are very different but also when they are like siblings :D)

Oh man YES I do get tired of Particular Guys! Sometimes because the whole process is so labour-intensive (hello, Woodsbeasts & big Bird Ladies), sometimes just because I run out of creative steam on 'em (most recently, sphinxes), Thankfully (because the timelines of pottery are so so so long) just not making them for a batch or two will give me a minimum 6 month break & by the time I think of going back they feel fresh & exciting again.

I also have the benefit of pottery being the more flexible part of my job (I'm also an illustrator/graphic designer) - when it started to become a viable part of my practice, I promised myself that, with the exception of commissions/prepping for particular sales, most of my batches would be of whatever I felt like making at the time. As opposed to my other work, which takes the shape of particular projects (a book, a report for a client, etc), I can just tootle away at my pottery desk, sculpting weird beasts that make me happy. This has worked well for me & I plan to stick with it as an approach for the time being.

Mugs/vessels are a bit different, as the actual making of the forms almost becomes muscle memory (especially the slab-built mugs), so it feels less creatively draining. I can, however, burn out on particular types of vessel decoration, eg. the EIGHT (8?!?) medieval-marginalia inspired pieces that are in the glaze kiln as I type. They took SO LONG and by the last couple of mugs I was full-on cursing my choices (tho if they turn out well I know I'll forget all about the pain & go oooohhhh let's make more. This is how my terrible brain works).

So yeah! Burnout happens, but I don't let it worry me because I know my weird little guys can wait until I'm ready to make 'em again :)

Note: this starts with 'real person message' because in Oct 2023 I got a bunch of annoying spam messages & asked people for real asks...then I got a ton of lovely Qs & am still working through the backlog in...uhhh...April 2024. Oops/thank you for your patience?!

[47wildesummers]

An excerpt from an old WIP from works beyond number, wherein Indri finds Suvi in her bathing chamber ❄️

Really gotta finish my backlog of stuff!!

Suvi felt the Witch’s gaze linger on her, sharp and possessive. Indri waited near the far wall while Suvi carefully hung the towel and approached with a suggestive sway of her hips.

Indri pressed a frigid finger under Suvi’s chin, tilting her face up to meet her stare. Suvi was lost in the perfect symmetry for a split second, and-

-suddenly she was against the wall, pinned by strong arms, heels scraping the tiles and kicking against the humid air. Indri's perfect lips curled in a contemptuous snarl, then spread into a smug smile as Suvi struggled and swallowed a whimper.

“Well now. What an adorable little plaything you are.”

Suvi went perfectly still, hands ready at her sides, her held breath hot in her lungs.

“Sweet. Little. Wizard.” The last word was icy in its contempt. “You're very fortunate. As my guest, I cannot harm you against your will. But something tells me you wouldn't mind a little discipline, hm? Go ahead, correct me if I'm wrong. You've already helped yourself to luxury that wasn't offered. Do you want my full hospitality, Wizard Sky?”

Suvi recognized the offer of an out. But she had a beautiful woman pinning her to a wall, and Indri's lips were parted and dewed with steam. She was exactly where she wanted to be.

Suvi nodded and wrapped her hands pleadingly around the arms holding her up. “It would be my absolute honor to receive your hospitality, Witch of the Wind and Stars.”