#(i say 'he' i know he's not the sole creator it just fits with the point of ref of this discussion)

[transmechanicus]

Kills me inside that Dustin Bates has a masters degree in aeronautical engineering and has done research and taught classes on space exploration, and this bleeds from the first two Starset albums how full of hope and promise he was for space travel and science, and in retrospect the arc of story and tone of songs across TRIALS, HORIZONS, and [REDACTED] is deeply sad to me. All he wanted to do was explore and learn and teach, and now those dreams are doubtlessly being crushed by all the wicked problems of the world that drag us down into darkness and dirt.

[yandere-3-sagau]

Hello! New anon here, idk if you do anything like this but i had an interesting thought the other day!

So yknow how you can name scaramouche right of course

So i named mine,,,,genuinely? Like i went out and looked up names (what can i say im down bad okay) and I found the name ‘Ena’ which means ‘gift from god’ (according to what i found-) or something like ‘blessed life’

So what if in a secret creator!sagau, the reader names him that and he dismisses it at first but then catches the reader having a look (sort of like a sad smile) every time they refer to him as that, so he finally asks what it means and they say its because they see him as being worthy of living. That they see him as a blessing from ‘the creator’ and they want him to see himself that way- (like not in a ‘more important than anyone else’ way, just in a ‘you exist therefore you deserve to live’ kinda way)

Idk if you like this but feel free to ignore this if you’re uncomfortable! Tysm for your time!

hehehe do you know that wanderer is my favorite? Quite similarly to you, I took my time searching for a good name. I named him Aziz. It’s an Arabic name and I thought it was fitting since his new beginning began in Sumeru, a place based on the middle east. While Aziz means to be strong and powerful, it also means dear, darling, and precious. If SAGAU were to ever be real, I would want him to know that he is precious and loved. <33

since this ask is about secret creator!reader, i am going to assume that wanderer is still unaware of your identity when you mention the meaning of his name.

Yandere!Wanderer x Secret!Creator!Reader

--

The wanderer didn’t really care for names. He’s had so many throughout the years that he could care less how people addressed him. 

So when the traveler gave him his name, he didn’t really think much of it. After all, it was a name given to him by his former enemy. What special meaning could it have? The traveler never explained it and he never thought to ask.

He kept the name for convenience but rarely ever used it. Many still referred to him as wanderer and he didn’t bother to correct them. There were times he had even forgotten that he had a new name. 

The first time he actually ever cares about his name is the first time he hears it from you. 

The name rolls so casually off your tongue it’s as if you’ve said it a thousand times. The soothing sound of your voice saying the name that belonged solely  to him makes him feel so strange that he doesn’t even realize that he’s never told you his name before. 

Though it sounds foreign at first, he quickly grows accustomed to being called his new name. 

However, every time you call him that name, you have a certain look in your eyes that he couldn’t quite understand. You look at him as if he holds the world in his hands yet it’s accompanied by a sense of sadness. 

Unbeknownst to him, every time you say his name, you’re reminded of his past. You think about how while erasing his previous names, he intended to erase his entire existence along with it and it breaks your heart. 

Though he has trouble recognizing emotions, he can sense your sadness.

Finally, he caves into his curiosity and asks why you always have that look on your face. Why you look like you want to cry whenever that name is mentioned.

“... do you know what your name means?” 

You gaze at him with such soft eyes that he almost forgets to answer.

“No, why?”

“Your name means ‘gift from god’ and ‘blessed life.’”

It takes some time to process, but after finally realizing what the meaning of his name is, the wanderer grows a bit angry. 

Gift from god? Blessed life?

The traveler must be mocking him.

How can he be a gift from god when he was abandoned by his mother, the God of Eternity? and what part of his life is blessed when he’s committed countless sins and all he’s experienced is tragedy. 

Wanderer remains silent but he can feel your gaze on him. Those eyes that to seem to see right though him. 

—

Later on, he approaches the traveler. 

“Why did you name me __?’“

The traveler pauses, surprised by the sudden question. 

“I... don’t know, if I’m being honest.”

Wanderer scoffs. “How can you not know? Are you mocking me?”

“No, I really don’t know. Now that I think about it, it really is quite strange,” the traveler says as they recall the moment the wanderer was named. 

“At the time, the name just slipped from my mouth.” 

“It just slipped from your mouth? You don’t even know what it means?”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t. I’ve honestly never heard of the name before.”

Hearing this, the wanderer is a bit offended. It seems such little thought was put into his name. He thinks that maybe you were lying. He searched through many books in the Akademyia for the origin but he couldn’t find anything close to what you told him. 

The next time you call his name, he stops you. He tells you stop using it. Saddened, you ask him why.

“It’s a meaningless name and whatever you claimed it means doesn’t even suit me.”

“What do you mean? I...whoever named you must see you as a gift. Your life is a blessing to them.”

“The person that named me doesn’t even know the meaning.”

You grow quiet upon hearing this. You can’t refute him, unable to explain to him that you were the person to name him. 

You’re heartbroken that he thinks so little of himself. You want nothing more than to tell him that he really is a blessing. That he’s important to you and worthy of living. But you remain silent and he does as well. 

He stops going by that name and decides to go by wanderer instead. He’s confused by your eyes that well up with unshed tears when he asks you call him wanderer instead of the name you had given him. 

It isn’t until you are exposed that he understands.

You are the creator and it was you that bestowed the name upon him while you were living through the eyes of the traveler.

This revelation sparks so many questions. 

Why did you name him that? Do you really see him as a blessing? Does he really mean that much to you?

His heart is hopeful but more and more anxiety fills his being the longer his thinks about it. 

Are you upset that he stopped using his name? Do you think he isn’t proud of it?

He doesn’t know what he’d do if you decided to take it back. But even if you tried, he wouldn’t let you. Suddenly, it’s apart of who he is now - the basis of his identity. Anyone who calls him wanderer now is immediately corrected.

He wants to confront you but he hasn’t seen you since your identity was exposed. You’ve disappeared without a trace, leaving his heart empty.

Nothing but your voice can sooth his aching heart and he can’t rest until finds you.

Until he hears you call his name once more, now that he’s finally able to appreciate it’s meaning. 

[kairos-polaris]

Beloved, why do you ship jonelias? Why do they consume your waking thoughts so?

I am glad you asked :D

So! I really enjoy uneven "problematic" power dynamics and this was what originally attracted me to jonelias. I listened to mag 92 and thought "jonelias seems like something I would ship" because even then I could tell they fit my taste. I also just like protagonist/antagonist ships, complicated relationships are my favourites

mag 92 is one of my favourite episodes as a jonelias shippers for a couple of reasons. at first it was solely the conversation between Jon and Elias and how it was about Jon getting changed by Elias, because of Elias. Jon was being openly vulnerable! "Am I still human, Elias?" he asks Elias who has just confessed to murder and keeping people hostage. Jon, who had so much respect and admiration for Elias' expertise, turns to him even in that moment. It is Elias who he seeks reassurance from, he asks another monster if he is one

Another aspect of mag 92 I am obsessed with is the opening statement and the way Elias puts Jon above everyone else (telling him to discard everyone in his pursuit) while also placing Jon on the same level as him

(Side note: I am still not sure if I prefer Jon to sit on Elias' lap/have Elias clean his wound or to focus more on what they don't do, on the gaping distance between them that they both wish wasn't there but both have their own reasons to not bridge it. Both are so good)

Vampire metaphor! Jon is a walking vampire metaphor and Elias is his maker, his creator. I am so obsessed with the idea of Jon feeding on Elias, pulling fear from his mind and Elias enjoying the intrusion and the freedom the compulsion brings. He said it felt tingly! Freak (affectionate). Also, telepathy and mind meld is so delicious

What I love most about jonelias is what I love in others ships: obsession and fully knowing each other. Beholding allows to take knowing and seeing your partner to another level, Jon and Elias can know and see each other in ways other people in their lives can't

Moral corruption is inherently fascinating to me and especially Jon. He gets worse throughout the series, his only anchors to humanity are his own guilt and the people around him who more often than not just reinforce that guilt (this makes sense in the context of the story but you can't guilt yourself into being a better person and that's why it doesn't really work for Jon but I digressed). I like thinking about all the ways Jon could be worse, the ways Jonah could push Jon into following his worst impulses, into choosing to be a monster instead of drowning in guilt to not feel helpless and powerless

I love jonelias when it's about all the things they wish to do but don't because they have other priorities, because they know but don't understand each other just like their patron. I love jonelias when it's Jon giving in, letting go. Of his morals, of his guilt, letting Elias shape him into something new. I love the idea of Jonah Magnus who worships no god, not even the one he serves, adoring and worshipping Jon and especially the parts of Jon that he himself had shaped. The Pygmalion and Galatea of it

Jonah chose Jon! He saw him and knew he was right! Jonah wants the Archivist and he wants the Archivist to be Jon. Sure, Jon was marked by the Web first but Jonah picked him too and I love it. It's fascinating from both of theirs perspective, Jonah feeling proud he made the right choice and Jon having a complicated mix of feelings about it. He hates that he was chosen and he just a little happy that he was chosen and he hates himself for it

Another thing I really like is the way they say each other's name! Elias calls Jon by his name a lot and I hate when people act like he doesn't

Jon and Jonah are very similar and I find that fascinating too. They are both workaholics and nerds and losers and freaks!! And I love them for that. And and and I really do think they could have eventually been truly equal if not for Jonahs prioritising his evil plan

Also they are sexy, I don't make the rules

[utilitycaster]

Hi! Hope you don’t mind me asking but, I’ve seen you comment about a “fjord moon” theory every so often in your tags, and I’m quite curious what’s it about? I don’t think I’ve ever heard about it, is it something more prevalent in twitter spaces?

It started in Reddit spaces but it had a moment within the fandom at large during Campaign 2, especially after a YouTube video surfaced shortly after the campaign had come back from hiatus in August 2020. It hasn't come up lately since Campaign 3's plot pretty thoroughly debunked it, which wasn't necessary for reasons I will cover below.

I talked about how stupid it was at the time, and will do so again but I don't feel like looking back through my archives to find that post, so: the idea was that Fjord was from Ruidus. I call it a theory because its creators called it a theory but it was really just a lot of incoherent yelling that unfortunately happened to fall into the hands of a prolific and popular but talentless video maker and was boosted by a prolific and popular but deeply stupid figure on CR Twitter.

You can read it here but in short he basis was that Fjord was actually a Spelljammer Space Orc (Scro; yes this is just Orcs backwards; Spelljammer is not exactly the most brilliant of concepts) because he was intelligent and walked upright, ignoring that Spelljammer was, at the time, from D&D 2e only which can generously be described as "wicked racist in the depiction of orcs". Not that 5e is not without its foibles, but it had largely 86-ed the worst of the racism that pervaded earlier orc depictions. Also Garthok pre-dated Fjord and was a half-orc with the same intelligence, but what are facts to an idiot. So anyway this guy working off a deeply racist older concept for orcs spun this into a wild conspiracy theory involving the fact that Travis likes Dragonball Z; something about the film Spaceballs (as far as I know Travis has said absolutely nothing about this, this is just that the Mel Brooks Star Wars parody and my personal childhood favorite Spaceballs exists I think?) and various other random pulls from science fiction media. This guy asked a question at a panel and mistook the cast looking at him like he had lost the plot as a sign he was onto something. Somehow, people listened to him.

Here's the thing about theorycraft. It is more important, in writing a theory, that you base it on evidence than that you get it correct. Any dipshit can guess and any lucky dipshit can guess correctly, but if you show that you can't structure an argument for beans, anyone who can structure an argument for beans will rightfully look at you and say "well, they predicted something once, but that's a fucking fluke because they're a fucking joke." Theories should explain something that needs explanation (Fjord having an INT of 14 and the name Fjord and being an orphan does not). They should not solely rest on things the cast likes or things that merely exist in-world and certainly not from Spaceballs and Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, the connection of which to Critical Role in that Reddit post is not explained, ever.

To give some examples of good, mediocre, and bad but at least not nearly that bad theorycraft: the theory that Ashton was a meteor that was around early in C3 is in my mind not very good, but at least it fits within Exandria canon and explained something about Ashton needing explanation at the time. The theory that The Emissary is the source of the stasis bubbles is in my mind a very good one explaining several key mysteries (source of stasis bubbles; why Erathis sent him rather than coming himself). The theory that Bor'Dor was a dog was fucking stupid and made no sense nor did it explain anything that needed explanation (and also wildly misjudged how border collies behave) but did at least not say "also, the TV show Lassie...exists in our reality, and this is evidence" The Fjord Moon Theory is maybe the stupidest and worst CR theory I've seen in my entire life, and it's up there for fandom theories over all. I get that it was August 2020 and I don't begrudge people who were very bored and scared from joking about it while not taking it seriously, but I do begrudge those who did take it seriously because like, come on.

Anyway, I bring it up in tags sometimes because many of the worst C3 takes on Twitter that make it to me via "can you fucking believe this" screenshots in the groupchat are either started or propagated by Former Moon Theory People.

[georgiapeach30513]

RE: Red One.

It’s funny how critics and people online continue to want to keep this film down, but I think it’s continuing to exceed expectations which is a good sign.

I had a feeling for a long while it was going to surprise people, given how many were complaining nonstop about Chris’s involvement.

Also, the discourse about his career choices… 🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄

It’s one thing if he were to sit there and complain to the media about not being able to find more serious roles or prestige movies to do.

But to my knowledge he’s never done that? I can only think of him saying years ago that his good films he feels nobody watches (true, or at least not ENOUGH people watch) but even then it wasn’t so much a complaint as a response to a question.

It seems like he is having fun and just picking what he wants to do. I’ve never heard him say “I only did this because I couldn’t get that.” He’s thrown out there he did Red One because he’s always wanted a Christmas film and there was a part for someone like him in it. Makes sense to me. And he just did three smaller scale lower profile projects with directors that are still establishing themselves. Without his and Anya’s involvement, don’t know that sacrifice would have been able to get made. I wish critics who aren’t up to date with his career move at least stop talking and wait for developments over a “hot take” for hits.

I saw a ridiculous tweet once again undermining Red One and his choices. Here’s the thing…red one was an orignal IP. It was a new story that wasn’t from an existing franchise, show, book, or sequel. Lots of people worked on that film and Amazon giving it a theatrical release also helps those who worked on the film that aren’t DJ or the rest of the cast. People who are seeing it in theaters are helping to create box office return and if films like this did well and were received well, maybe there would be more studios willing to take a chance on an original take over an existing IP.

Just because it’s a popcorn movie with silliness does not mean it’s trash and only films like Oppenheimer can be considered art.

I really despise that take and how some cinephiles look down on these films yet solely up lift Oscar bait films.

It bothers me immensely as a creative myself because in my opinion, movies are entertainment and they’re supposed to entertain you. If you and others have fun with the content and enjoy, have a good laugh, a smile, a cry, then I think the creators have done their job. Not all films need to be awards worthy, and art is subjective.

Ahh, the discourse on Chris' career is a tale as old as time at this moment. According to some he will never be good enough or rise to his potential. According to some he is a washed up has been, and yet they can't seem to quit him. I think that makes him a bit more powerful than they want him to be. But alas, we're all free to spend our time how we see fit.

It's funny because I don't think some people realize the roles that he was considered for, the roles he turned down, the roles that he was wanted for. Back when Running Man was in talks, he was top of the list as the lead, and we see that he wanted Sacrifice instead. I think that was a better choice, because quite frankly I'm getting fatigued at all the remakes, but some people want to make their career out of remakes. To each their own.

Unfortunately Chris outside of the MCU has never been quite as a box office draw. A lot of his movies, well most, are on a smaller scale. I think people are looking at his last three movies; Ghosted, Pain Hustlers, and Red One, and immediately jumping on a hate bandwagon. Let's break this down, Ghosted was a small movie, and judging by the synopsis I think we got what we were promised. I think that Dex, Chris, and Ana all were making different movies.

Pain Hustlers will mostly be forgotten. It was part of the opiate epidemic movies that became oversaturated. It didn't have any promotion, and compared to the other projects in the opiate crisis genre, it wasn't that great. I still will die on the hill that his performance was solid, and the best in the movie. Emily was oddly terrible.

Red One I think surprised a lot of people. Nobody expected it to be as fun or as good as it ended up being. Due to the strike, Chris didn't get to really film last year, minus the Deadpool movie. Had R1 not be released a year late, he would have only had Deadpool for this year. Starting next year we're going to have another surge of his projects, and they all seem different, so maybe people should just be patient.

The average movie goer wants to be entertained. That's why popcorn flicks make more money than the award movies. now sometimes you can have both. But anyways.

[cozzzynook]

Can we get some Starbee? Starscream is such a bitch, but everyone is surprised when he ends up with Bee. Little do they realize, but Bee is also a snarky bitch too, he just has pesky Morals™️. I just like the idea that they are the couple that judges everyone.

Starscream is a bitch one hundred percent.

I honestly had more written for this but i exited without saving and lost it and punched a pop up tent so i just want to paraphrase and say Bee is a bitch too.

Only his conjunx and creators know though.

Bee has a strong dislike for certain bots actions he just doesn’t say so.

Optimus is his carrier who is a sarcastic gold hearted bitch like him and Megatron and Elita are his sires who who just sigh because they hoped their sparkling didn’t inherit that trait but he did.

The sole reason they haven’t had another sparkling is because even Optimus fears the bitch fit Bee may have if he isn’t the sole sparkling of his creators.

Bots think it’s Star who prevent them from having sparklings yet.

Its not.

Its bee.

Starscream doesn’t want his sparklings inheriting both their bitchiness.

Not really.

He just doesn’t want their sparklings to get Bee’s foul mouth.

[valeriefauxnom]

Sneaky Greek in Dragalia (+Potential Name Inspiration)

...Don't you hate it when you accidentally post something before it's ready, hastily delete, and then lose all your work because you didn't think to copy/paste? Yeah, that's me.

More importantly, though, the actual topic for today: skill names in other languages in the royal fam!

Now, the only one you might be thinking of is Chelle.

Her skills are, in no particular order:

Sole estivo Estate brilliant Gran Tiara Gran Gloria Splendido Dominio Burlone Gatto

It kinda just reads as slightly fancy English at times, but no, that's just flat-out Italian:

(Too bad most all of them are just flat-out terrible, functionally, with only Summer Chelle's skills being 'ok'?)

You might be eagerly consulting your memory banks to try to remember if anyone else had any other language besides English in their skill names, only to be disappointed.

Oh, sure, there's funny and sad little cases like Audric where his skill names in JP are so much more literal than his in English even though they pretty much mean the same thing (End of Glory -> Exaltation Terminus, End of Crown -> Circlet Denouement). Or, there's cases like Summer Leonidas, who have slightly different names (Crisis Vanquisher -> Exigent Vanquisher, Mirror Servant -> Phantasmal Servant), but nothing much.

It just seems like a little fitting thing, with how we associate the Italian language and culture with the high arts and as a 'love language', passionate, etc etc. Chelle, being as fancy as she is, seems fitting to invoke it.

But what if I told you that there's actually another family member whose skill names are wholly in another language besides English or Japanese?

Who is it?

Phares.

Now, wait, you would say, his are entirely in English, he's got four skills, and they are:

Wisdom Talisman

Oath of Bonds

Punishment of Heaven

Uranus' Claws

...And you'd be absolutely right! Caveat: that's in the English translation.

His Japanese skills, though?

Instead actually read more like:

Yup, they're in Greek!

Well... the Japanese approximation of Greek sounds, at least, making verifying this a lot of trying to turn Japanese sounds into Greek words and then trying to translate. But functionally, his skill names are 'in Greek'.

My best crude attempt to try to sort through what was intended in the Greek looks like this:

Now, I know 0.00000 of anything Greek, and I also do not know if the creators in Japan were fluent in Greek to make this proper in any way, shape, or form, but that's roughly what the katakana in JP spell out.

For those wanting to take a crack at it themselves, his 'official' JP skill names are:

ソフィアフィラフト

デスモスオルコス

ウラノスキロシス

ウラノスオニュクス

I'm particularly unsure about the whole 'philath' thing, as the 'Sofia' part is very clear, as that's just 'wisdom'. Philath, though, I'm almost wondering if it's some weird crunch of 'philomath', 'love of learning', but in general I'm thinking it's tied, if nothing else, to the whole 'phil' for 'love'. As you can see, they're largely the same as the English translations in the end.

Whatever the case, I think it's almost sad we cut right to the chase of getting to the heart of the names in English. Greek for Phares is also a fitting language to name his skills with, as the language yet remains very tied to mathematics, its roots tied to many more fields in the sciences from medicine (psychology or words like 'kardia'. 'derma' or 'nephros' serving as common roots for other terms), entire fields of study (biology, geology), religion (the New Testament of the Bible was predominately written in Greek, and the Bible in general was often translated into Greek) and more roots scattered elsewhere.

After all, it (with Latin) for the longest time was the 'cool kids language' in Europe where all the intellectuals du jour studied in. European civilization as a whole still kinda dreamed for the 'good old days' of Grecian and Roman civilization and was the foundation for much of their high culture and intellectual thought.

The second part that I'm sad about us missing is the increased ties to Uranus. Ouranos is and was a valid alternative spelling of Uranus, and still kinda has connotations of 'the sky' as its representation. That's where we see the 'heaven' in the 'punishment of heaven' in English, as it's kinda more 'Uranus punishment' in Japanese.

Speaking of Uranus, though...

Bonus Round: Phares' name

As-is, his name is literally the French word for 'headlights' or 'lighthouses'. Kinda silly, a tiny bit fitting if you get into the whole figurative imagining of 'light of knowledge' kind of thing.

However, there was also a mythological figure tied to Uranus, with a pretty similar name: Phanes.

"Metis" is particularly interesting as that means 'thought, wisdom, skill, or craft'.

I'm also seeing some ties from Phanes to Dionysus, who served as a bit of a two-sided deity. Really, Phanes seemed to be a deity that kinda got muddled into a lot of things as Greek mythos wound on and changed, as he ultimately heralds from a different, earlier strain of Greek mythology if I'm understanding things right (Orphic).

Phanes actually serves the role as a creator god in this mythology, and is the creator of Uranus, to finally tie it back to the dragon in question. He's once addressed like this in a hymn:

...This is where it ironically ties back to the literal reading of his name in French, as Phanes' name is sometimes translated as 'light-bringer'.

I could wind through academic sources all day looking for more examples and knowledge, but I think I'm going to cut it off there before I have 50 tabs open. As it stands, I'm seriously wondering if this was the actual inspiration for Phares' name and wanted to share!

The whole shebang of it all just... fits, disturbingly well. A character tied to a creation deity (Progenitor), Uranus, with a hidden darkness going on beneath a much more pleasant outward attitude, often associated and renowned for his wisdom and knowledge, whose name is only one letter off a creation deity who created Uranus, an aspect of him associated with a two-sided deity of both pleasure and violence, another aspect tied with wisdom and thought?

COINCIDENCE?! I THINK NOT! (Well, it could always be coincidence but darn if this one doesn't line up well...)

As a final note, we see several others in the fam taking homage from Greco-Roman classic names, see Leonidas and Aurelius, the latter of whom was known as the 'last of the five good emperors'... Even potentially Euden to the broader concept of the Eudaemon and all its related words. So there's definitely some inspiration around that time period in fam names...

[lesmisletters-daily]

The Death Of A Horse

Les Mis Letters reading club explores one chapter of Les Misérables every day. Join us on Discord, Substack - or share your thoughts right here on tumblr - today's tag is #lm 1.3.8

“The dinners are better at Édon’s than at Bombarda’s,” exclaimed Zéphine.

“I prefer Bombarda to Édon,” declared Blachevelle. “There is more luxury. It is more Asiatic. Look at the room downstairs; there are mirrors [<i>glaces</i>] on the walls.”

“I prefer them [<i>glaces</i>, ices] on my plate,” said Favourite.

Blachevelle persisted:—

“Look at the knives. The handles are of silver at Bombarda’s and of bone at Édon’s. Now, silver is more valuable than bone.”

“Except for those who have a silver chin,” observed Tholomyès.

He was looking at the dome of the Invalides, which was visible from Bombarda’s windows.

A pause ensued.

“Tholomyès,” exclaimed Fameuil, “Listolier and I were having a discussion just now.”

“A discussion is a good thing,” replied Tholomyès; “a quarrel is better.”

“We were disputing about philosophy.”

“Well?”

“Which do you prefer, Descartes or Spinoza?”

“Désaugiers,” said Tholomyès.

This decree pronounced, he took a drink, and went on:—

“I consent to live. All is not at an end on earth since we can still talk nonsense. For that I return thanks to the immortal gods. We lie. One lies, but one laughs. One affirms, but one doubts. The unexpected bursts forth from the syllogism. That is fine. There are still human beings here below who know how to open and close the surprise box of the paradox merrily. This, ladies, which you are drinking with so tranquil an air is Madeira wine, you must know, from the vineyard of Coural das Freiras, which is three hundred and seventeen fathoms above the level of the sea. Attention while you drink! three hundred and seventeen fathoms! and Monsieur Bombarda, the magnificent eating-house keeper, gives you those three hundred and seventeen fathoms for four francs and fifty centimes.”

Again Fameuil interrupted him:—

“Tholomyès, your opinions fix the law. Who is your favorite author?”

“Ber—”

“Quin?”

“No; Choux.”

And Tholomyès continued:—

“Honor to Bombarda! He would equal Munophis of Elephanta if he could but get me an Indian dancing-girl, and Thygelion of Chæronea if he could bring me a Greek courtesan; for, oh, ladies! there were Bombardas in Greece and in Egypt. Apuleius tells us of them. Alas! always the same, and nothing new; nothing more unpublished by the creator in creation! <i>Nil sub sole novum</i>, says Solomon; <i>amor omnibus idem</i>, says Virgil; and Carabine mounts with Carabin into the bark at Saint-Cloud, as Aspasia embarked with Pericles upon the fleet at Samos. One last word. Do you know what Aspasia was, ladies? Although she lived at an epoch when women had, as yet, no soul, she was a soul; a soul of a rosy and purple hue, more ardent hued than fire, fresher than the dawn. Aspasia was a creature in whom two extremes of womanhood met; she was the goddess prostitute; Socrates plus Manon Lescaut. Aspasia was created in case a mistress should be needed for Prometheus.”

Tholomyès, once started, would have found some difficulty in stopping, had not a horse fallen down upon the quay just at that moment. The shock caused the cart and the orator to come to a dead halt. It was a Beauceron mare, old and thin, and one fit for the knacker, which was dragging a very heavy cart. On arriving in front of Bombarda’s, the worn-out, exhausted beast had refused to proceed any further. This incident attracted a crowd. Hardly had the cursing and indignant carter had time to utter with proper energy the sacramental word, <i>Mâtin</i> (the jade), backed up with a pitiless cut of the whip, when the jade fell, never to rise again. On hearing the hubbub made by the passers-by, Tholomyès’ merry auditors turned their heads, and Tholomyès took advantage of the opportunity to bring his allocution to a close with this melancholy strophe:—

“Elle était de ce monde ou coucous et carrosses

Ont le même destin;

Et, rosse, elle a vécu ce que vivant les rosses,

L’espace d’un mâtin!”

“Poor horse!” sighed Fantine.

And Dahlia exclaimed:—

“There is Fantine on the point of crying over horses. How can one be such a pitiful fool as that!”

At that moment Favourite, folding her arms and throwing her head back, looked resolutely at Tholomyès and said:—

“Come, now! the surprise?”

“Exactly. The moment has arrived,” replied Tholomyès. “Gentlemen, the hour for giving these ladies a surprise has struck. Wait for us a moment, ladies.”

“It begins with a kiss,” said Blachevelle.

“On the brow,” added Tholomyès.

Each gravely bestowed a kiss on his mistress’s brow; then all four filed out through the door, with their fingers on their lips.

Favourite clapped her hands on their departure.

“It is beginning to be amusing already,” said she.

“Don’t be too long,” murmured Fantine; “we are waiting for you.”

[zurrr]

@nopecontest says no one uses this place to blog anymore, only reblog, so ill post some thoughts here and call it "blogging".

the internet is getting stupider and as i approach my 30s i find myself thinking more frequently about mid 2000s internet and all the dumb things i was interested in. ytmnd. different internet forums dedicated to sonic, ed edd n eddy, and the powerpuff girls. the friends i lost contact with from those forums. avgn when he was in his 20s and just starting out. wanting to make ytps thinking that was my calling at the time. newgrounds. albinoblacksheep. getting banned from deviantart multiple times because i was under 13. none of this is present anymore and will never be present again and thats bleak to think about on a regular basis. kids on the internet today will never experience online memories like this.

im more accepting of working my same retail job forever than i ever was, as the benefits are all i think about and how things could be worse. it used to be a big anxiety of mine, trying to think about how i could break away from retail and never go back to it, but honestly there is nothing else especially when i have no skills or education (if that even matters anymore) but like at the same time i dont care as much anymore. i make enough to get by. i could buy a thing i dont need and still be able to buy things i do need. im in a good position and have things others dont and theres no reason to fret over it anymore.

ive been figuring out my identity lately. i slowly came to the realization that i do not like wearing feminine clothes or presenting solely as female. ive struggled with body dysmorphia since, i wanna say before age 8 idk anymore, and ive always associated this was having an eating disorder, which im not gonna deny that i have. i often calorie restrict, and sometimes i dont realize that im doing this because im occupying myself so much that im not thinking about taking care of myself. this will be an ever-present thing about myself, but im learning that i can combat this by changing my wardrobe. i feel more confident when im not settling for wearing a dress or putting on make up cuz i feel like i "have to", and instead choosing clothes that are actually comfortable and not form fitting. ive been trying to explore this more, still a ways to go maybe, but mentally it's been comforting to consider and ill say here i go by she/they pronouns. it used to be she/her with no hesitation but thats not me anymore.

ive been watching one piece since last year and it's been interesting. this is one of those series that i never thought about watching, mostly because i didnt really grow up watching anime religiously and this is one i knew existed but i didnt think it was something i needed to touch when i just watched western shows. one piece is good. another thing that is good is dragon ball z, another series i didnt think id ever touch. i think both changed me for the better cuz it broadened my horizons and it feels like i made new friends. not in fandoms, i mean characters. im friends with characters. puar dragon ball is my friend.

to those who have been following me forever but only on tumblr specifically, im still drawing the same ocs. theyve gotten more complex, meaning they are much sadder and burdened with insecurities that i know too well. NEVERMIND is the only thing im gonna do forever cuz it's gonna take me a long time to get anywhere with it and i dont have enough time in a day to do it all, but thats ok to have only one creative focus. NVM is therapy and i dont need another project. you can read my webcomic here but it's on hiatus until next year. it is also apart of spiderforest which is a webcomic collective, maybe check out other comics on SF too while youre at it and support webcomic creators.

im gonna be grieving about panda (the cat i used to post about here) forever and thats ok too. she passed away 2 years ago in november and i think about her every day. i dont get as emotional about it anymore though. i maybe could if i focused hard enough on it, but i dont have to do that because i have a another cat now who is named bean. she's 4 and is so fuckin silly (and smelly) and i love her a lot. more rambunctious than im used to, but the memories i and @nopecontest have begun building with her have been well worth it. here she is playing mario sunshine

[bitterkarmaa]

[This is not a canon KB event. This is about a dream that I had that fit into the vibe of this blog that I wanted to share]

“We’re getting overrun.”

Moon presses his back into the wall, ducking lower as more shots fly overhead. He drags Sun down with him, pulling his brother close as the distant sounds of battle filter in through the open doors.

Lunar clings to Moon’s leg, suppressing a whimper in his torn, star patterned pants.

“What are we gonna do?? I don’t wanna die again!” The smaller animatronic lets out a wail, and Moon hushes him softly- sympathetically. Part of him wants to cry, too.

“We’ll figure it out, okay? For now, we have to-“ Moon starts to say, then suddenly recoils with a snarl as oil spills freely from his shoulder. It quickly begins to soak into his clothing, but he clamps a hand down onto it before it can begin it’s incessant flow of oil. It still leaks out between his fingers, and Sun’s eyes shimmer with tears, reaching on hand out to his brother before pulling it back as if afraid of hurting him more.

“-for now, we have to find the terminal and hook either me or Lunar up to it.” Moon finishes through clenched teeth, his red eyes flashing with fury as another bullet flies by.

“You still haven’t explained why-“ Sun exclaims, eyes darting upwards as a body arches over the wall they’re situated behind. The robot crashes to the ground in a heap of shrapnel and wires, twitching and sparking before finally falling still. Eerily still. Deathly still.

“Because you’ll say no!” Moon shouts, tone taking on an edge of desperation, as if willing his twin not to argue any further. They don’t have time for that- not now, pinned under The Creator’s armada of bloodthirsty beasts- beasts thirsty for their blood, in specific.

Sun shakes his head, obviously wishing to ask more questions, but he holds back for the sake of their safety.

With a final roar from beyond, the sound of small mechanical pieces falling to the ground following close behind, all is left silent. A pair of heavy crashes break the silence, metal bits dancing out across the tile like a coin set to spin to decide one’s fate. All three animatronics are still.

Those same footfalls approach them, unsteady in rhythm but strong in force. Sun dares a look outside, then relaxes as he realizes who it is.

“KC!” He shouts, and Moon reveals himself with Lunar tucked against his leg shortly after.

Blood Moon is perched on the large bot’s shoulder, covered hood to shoe-bell in a thick layer of oil. It splatters evenly across their face and drips down into the mess on their chest, covering their normal colors in a dark shade of death.

KillCode, however, is filled with holes. Oil leaks from the wounds in sickeningly slow trails, but he pays no mind, sauntering over to the other three as a trail of their lifeblood follows close behind. Some is his, and some…is not.

“Wow, you’re…” Moon starts, motioning to his KillCode’s appearance.

“A mess, I know. Blood Moon, stop pulling on my hat.” The beast growls, and Blood Moon gives him a cheeky smile before pulling their hands back into their lap. They sit neatly in place, an innocent curiosity adorning their dripping face.

“How’d you get through?” Lunar asks quietly. KC gives him a deadpan look.

“Ripping and tearing and maiming- so fun!!” Blood Moon grins from their perch, and KC rolls his eyes as if having found the killing spree more of a chore than anything else. Lunar blinks owlishly, but says nothing.

“I need to get to the terminal. Do you think you could help with that?” Moon gets down to business as quickly as possible, trying to ignore Blood Moon’s earlier statement. KC turns his attention sluggishly onto his former host, looking the night-themed jester up and down as if assessing him based solely on appearance.

“You’re wounded.” It states in a bland tone, and Moon clutches his shoulder harder just to keep himself from lashing out. Why couldn’t anyone understand that he wasn’t the point right now?

“It’ll be more convincing. Can you help me, or not?”

KC quirks a brow curiously. “Convincing?”

“KILLCODE. ANSWER THE QUESTION.”

“Alright, alright- yes, I can get you there. So pushy.” It begins to shoo Blood Moon from its shoulder, and they let out an angry hiss before leaping off. They grapple onto the nearby play-structure, scaling it’s few remaining pieces as KC offers his hand to Moon.

“Have you seen any of the others?” Moon’s tone is tight as he taps KC’s palm, allowing him to pick Moon up, careful to avoid his injury.

“Hmm…” KC hums as he begins the trek outside, ducking under some of the collapsed structures as he goes.

“Solar Flare?”

KC shakes his head, and Moon falls back into his paranoid silence.

The halls are lined with bodies. Weapons of all kinds litter the floors like toys scattered about the daycare, yet these are all too real. Some hands still twitch, some bots still struggle to squirm around like half-dead corpses on the floor. Moon shuts his eyes. He doesn’t want to see faces he recognizes amongst them.

KC taps Moon on the shoulder when they make it to their destination, and Moon hesitantly cracks open an eye at the signal.

“What is this for, might I ask?” KC inquires once again, but Moon doesn’t reply as it places him gently onto the floor. Instead, his free hand is already extended towards the terminal, fingers shaking, mind churning with endless possibilities that all end in the same outcome.

Some of these paths contain his idea making the situation worse. But, in the back of his mind, he knows he has no choice. They need back up.

No matter how bad the back up is.

“I’ll go limp. This is normal. Please catch me.” Moon murmurs in a subdued tone, and KC nods. He knows better than to deny Moon in such a vulnerable state.

Moon hesitates for a few moments longer. Would he even be able to get in? Parts of the receiver are bent, while the screen is cracked, the display warped behind the damages. Is this a waste of his time? Will he even be there if he manages to make it inside?

Without giving him any more time to thing more on it, KC presses Moon’s hand down onto the screen, watching with mild amusement as his former host goes as limp as a noodle.

But, he made a promise, so he catches him, as he’d said he would.

-

It was…quiet. It had always been quiet around here, but today felt like a different type of quiet- the kind that followed funerals and natural disasters.

Eclipse…didn’t quite know what to think of that.

So, when the silence is broken by a snap of electricity, he instinctively brings up a hand to shield his face, stiffening as the figure cements itself into a…familiar face.

Moon stares back at him with tired eyes, eyes trailing over the fragmented pieces of what once was his mortal enemy.

“I need your help.”

Eclipse stares at him. His gaze travels over to the leaking wound in Moon’s shoulder. His eyes remain transfixed on the injury, even as his mouth moves to give a more careless response.

“Oh? Me? You must be truly desperate~” He flashes his other half a sinister grin, but Moon is in no mood to play his games. Not now. Not when so much is at stake.

“Cut the crap. We don’t have time for this.”

Eclipse quirks a brow, eyeing Moon as he begins to pace, advancing on Eclipse the longer he remains silent.

“We? Since when was there a ‘we’ here?” Eclipse sudden snaps, more fury in his words than Moon expected. He takes a step back as the other takes a step forwards, shoving his face so close to Moon’s that he can hear the slight ringing that Eclipse’s presence produces, hear the sound of the satellite scorching through his plain, mortal existence. Moon can’t bring himself to meet the eyes of the monster that he created.

“Since it wasn’t just about you versus me. Now it’s about us versus him.”

Eclipse searches his expression for any hint of deceit, then leans away when he finds none.

“Who’s him?”

Moon finally manages to look up and into that brilliant orange glare, hating the betrayal that he finds lurking within their depths. Some part of him screams that Eclipse has no right to feel such things after all he’s done, but the rest of him knows that, deep down, this is partially his own fault.

“The creator.”

Eclipse gives pause at that. He stares down the one animatronic he swore he’d never align himself with, one hand coming up slowly, carefully-

His clawed fingers gently brush up against Moon’s wound, a conflicted expression falling over Eclipse’s face as Moon watches him with slight discomfort.

“He’s behind this, is he? How odd…I warned you, didn’t I?”

Moon shoves him away, opening his mouth for a scathing retort before slowly, so, so slowly, he allows it to die in his throat. The tightness the words leave behind remind him of holding back tears, and he doesn’t realize that he’s been doing just that until they begin to drip down his face.

“Okay. Okay! So you were right? I admit it! Is that what you want to hear? That I’m wrong and you’re right?!” Moon snaps, surprising even himself.

Much to Moon’s chagrin, Eclipse lets out a bitter laugh. He moves forwards again, a devious glint dancing in his eyes, and suddenly Moon feels like a lion jumping through a hoop of flames.

“All I’ve ever wanted was a sorry, yet you’ve never considered that, have you?”

Eclipse brushes past Moon once he’s done speaking, leaving the stiff animatronic to pick apart his words and drown in the guilt that follows them. A single marigold hand comes out to rest upon Moon’s uninjured shoulder, jolting him from his spiral.

“But, for now, I’ll settle for a way out of here and someone to punch.” Another grin, this time equipped with so many ill-intentions that it almost makes Moon sick to think that he’s about to let him out to act upon them all.

“No hurting Sun. Or Lunar. Or-“

“Yes, yes, whatever. I’m not interested in who I can’t hurt, I’m interested in who I can.” A sharp edge slides into Eclipse’s voice, tainted by impatience. Moon brushes his hand off as his grip begins to tighten.

“You’ll need something to fight with first.” Moon mutters. Eclipse stays silent, merely tilting his head and brandishing his claws as if the answer is obvious.

“No. Something longer. Something sharper.” Moon steps forwards, then…reaches his hand out, swiping it through thin air. When the movement finishes, a sword seems to materialize in his hand, and he offers it out to Eclipse.

It’s beautiful, really. Wrought iron blade with serrated edges, sturdy handle with symbolic orange and black hues scattered about the surfaces.

And in the middle, an eclipse, glowing faintly beneath Eclipse’s mesmerized gaze.

“So? What do you say?”

Eclipse takes the sword in one hand, examining it like some sort of ancient artifact under the watch of a renowned architect.

Then, another smile breaks out across his face. Sharp teeth glint in the dim light cast out from the sword in his hand.

“Is this some sort of knighting? The guild of daycare defense?” He questions lightly, and, much to his surprise, Moon barks out a laugh.

“Yes, absolutely. You’re a knight.”

“Aren’t knights usually the heroes though, dear Moon?”

Moon can’t help but smile himself, reflecting the danger in Eclipse’s own grin. “Hero or not, they still kill. It’s the killing that matters to me, not how you define yourself.”

Eclipse turns away, at that, gazing down at the sword in his hands with an intense glint in his eyes, running his claws along the blade.

“Doesn’t seem all that heroic, does it? Killing?” Eclipse’s voice is flat. Unfeeling. He lifts his head, meeting Moon’s eyes. For a moment, Moon doesn’t see the fractured apparition the terminal generated for Eclipse. He sees a broken, burnt, twisted chassis with a half-visible smile hidden under the soot and scorch marks, metal bits poking out in odd places like a broken skeleton beneath years of rubble and decay.

“Like you killed me?”

Those oil streaks down that disfigured face aren’t from the damages, Moon knows. They’re from wounds much deeper than any of the destruction he wrought upon his enemy.

And yet, those wounds are still caused by him.

[i-miss-summertime]

hi there! i really really really enjoyed your analysis of birds of feather for ian and anthony and it made me start thinking of other songs that fit them and i was wondering if you’ve ever heard scott street by phoebe bridgers bc i feel like that’s such a them song especially in the post anthony leaving smosh era.

Sorry for taking so long to answer! I hadn't heard this one since I got into Phoebe Bridgers during her Punisher album but I listened a few times and I totally get where you're coming from.

Both of them talked about how their public image had to take time to redefine itself after being "Ian and Anthony" for so long but I think Anthony talked specifically about how post-leaving, he had to reckon with himself of his value outside of his creation he made at 14 years old. In his self isolation of not wanting anything to do with Smosh, not only was he cutting out Ian but also the people he knew from Smosh. That probably largely cut down his social circle even if they were just coworkers/work friends since Anthony talked about how much of their lives they dedicated to Smosh. Plus, being the one who left, tons of people were looking at Anthony to see how he was going to define himself as an independent creator after the split.

"Open heart" also reminds me of the kinda lost period of his channel where he was kinda barring a lot on camera in his time of trying to find himself. He was pretty open with being burnt out and definitely his emotions, namely sadness, was bleeding into his on camera persona until he found his niche of being an interviewer. Even now, he definitely wears his heart on his sleeve a lot more than Ian.

I definitely associate the chorus more with Ian and his confusion over why Anthony had cut himself off from Smosh and Ian. The parallel of Anthony being a self proclaimed "conspiracy theorist" of what Ian was thinking and feeling like their relationship was worse than what Ian had thought to post-leaving, Ian being left wondering why Anthony had so firmly shut the door on their past. Ian was still thinking it was a no brainer to still collab and work together and then met with such resistance to enterain being associated with Smosh.

Feeling left behind as your former best friend moves onto something else and just not even knowing what they even think of you anymore. Are you angry at Defy? Are you ashamed of all the things we did together? Do you just not want anything to do with Smosh? Do you just not want anything to do with me?

This verse reminds me of the small talk they would say they had when it was in the between years. Just texts on birthdays and on a rare blue moon. Even before the split, they talked about how surface level their conversations would be, just talking about what was happening instead of actually opening up and discussing things. It was all so shallow in comparison to the times they talked about everything together.

Plus "I asked you, 'How is playing drums?'/Said 'It's too much shit to carry'" feels like Ian stepping back from his comedic writing since he never found another creative partner that matched his energy like Anthony did. Alone as the sole founder and president at Smosh, it was quite simply too much to carry when also shouldering so much responsibility. No one who fully understood or on his exact level, either being technically an employee even if also a friend, or people above him at Mythical.

Then, not to put on shipper goggles since i think this is also applicable in a friendship sense but seeing other friends find their people when you feel like an island still is also somewhat isolating. If you feel like you had your person and lost them, there's definitely a bittersweetness in seeing your friends who go from friends to partners.

Lastly, the outro feels like the offers for Anthony to come visit and work with Smosh again. Something about the transition between "Anyway, don't be a stranger" having the tone of a light farewell you'd tell anyone leaving to the final and simple "don't be a stranger" which feels more like a plea. Like finally breaking the cover of apathy, please don't leave in totality like I feel like you're going to. Please don't become a stranger to me.

[mayapapaya33]

I admire the way Neil Gaiman managed to subtly circumnavigate and subvert the preexisting structure he was operating in when writing Sandman. Many people (including myself occasionally) always say, ugh it's so Judeo-Christian heavy, why are they so important and powerful and correct compared to the other Gods? (other than Sandman being a part of a preexisting DC universe and therefore being stuck with it). Well, They are and they aren't, not totally anyway. At least according to Sandman 40. It is HEAVILY implied and outright stated that all the biblical figures we come across aren't what we think they are on the face of it. And actual religious people would, I think, not find any of this very Judeo-Christian at all.

Cain and Abel aren't just the first "human" Victim and Murderer. They're literally just the first Victim and the first Murderer period. Who knows what species they were, what culture on what planet they came from, what they actually sacrificed, what they actually fought over? What their real names are? It's a translation of a translation of a translation of a basic primal story. Whoever or Whatever the All Highest Creator is, they have reinvented themselves time and time again, these are just the faces and names they're wearing right now, the ones that fit. It was different before and it'll be different in the future.

And it's like a fun, weird, confusing Chicken and the Egg situation, since according to the DC database that I just checked for The Presence:

The Presence said it was shaped by external forces which author Mike Carey clarified as the collective dreams, stories, and beliefs of humanity that change reality backward and forward and create the gods they worship.[45] This concept was first introduced in The Sandman: A Dream of a Thousand Cats, where it is said that cats were originally the dominant species on Earth, giant beasts that hunted humans. However, mankind's collective dream of a world where humans ruled over cats altered reality from its very beginning, making it so that humans were always larger than cats.

So Humanity dreamed up an omnipotent being (or influenced a preexisting omnipotent being that was previously Dreamed up by others?) And it wibbly wobbly timeily wimeily has always been so solely because of the power of belief and Dreams. (There's an interesting story right there, what was the DC universe like BEFORE that collective Dream?!) We've done it before and We can do it again. There are other versions of the Universe where other Gods reign supreme but they've been "Dream of a Thousand Cat'sd" This is just the one we have access to a glimpse of.

Does this make sense or do I need to go Visit Dream's realm in order to escape Delirium's?

[moyokeansimblr]

Get to know you: Sims Style

Well I was patiently waiting to be tagged but it's not happened yet and @isimchi "tagged" anyone who hasn't so that means me 😁

What’s your favorite Sims death?

I mean, I have to say drowning. I have many a memory of my childhood best friend and I batch creating like 100 sims with the sole purpose to drown and make haunted lots... Surely we all did that though, right?

Alpha CC or Maxis Match?

These days I'm maxis match, and in particular my cc is 90-95% 4t2 stuff. Sometimes I miss non-clay hairs but not enough that I'd wanna switch back. I'm actually extremely happy with my game aesthetic at the moment. I see the appeal of alpha and I am alpha in sims 3 but I don't think I could go back to it in sims 2 anymore.

Do you cheat your sims weight?

Not directly... occasionally I've dragged needs up so a sim will exercise longer when they want/need a body skill because when it's not fall the body skill takes FOREVER to gain. So then they'll end up exercising so long that they get fit where they might not otherwise have. That's as close as I'd get to cheating their weight though.

Do you move objects?

I mean, yes. I both move objects and moveobjects. 😉 (although I've had the cheat alias "mon/mof" (yes, one f) for ages I don't even remember the proper way to type the cheat.

Favorite Mod?

Hmm that's tough. Some staples I couldn't live without are sim blender, ACR, monique's hacked computers, all the no regen mods, the auto saver, gussy up, and for some reason smonaff's period mod is the mod I've had in my game longer than anything else I have now. Been using that since the 2000s. Is it necessary? Probably not. Is it annoying? Yes but periods are annoying irl too. Would I miss it if I didn't have it in my game? Greatly.

First Expansion/Game Pack/Stuff Pack?

My parents bought the sims 1 on release when I was 3, and then at some point shortly thereafter I ended up entirely hijacking my mom's computer. But while they did buy every pack on release as well, the earliest pack that I still have solid memories of playing is Vacation. Is that all it was called? I think non-US versions had a cooler name like On Holiday or something.

Do you pronounce live mode like aLIVE or LIVing?

Ya know... I've never really thought about it until now but both. Sometimes I say LIVE and sometimes LIV. I don't know what goes on in my brain to decide which one I'm gonna say at any given point but I know for fact I say both.

Who’s your favorite sim that you’ve made?

I've had many favorite sims over the years, most long lost into the void. But one sim I think about a lot is one of my old ts3 sims Levi Engle. He was one of my first truly evil sims and really one of my last proper edgy sims as well and I've not had anyone quite like him since. This was like 2016 I think? I'm still waiting to have a sim like him again, in either 3 or 2. "Made" is not quite accurate, he was born. But he's one of my own, not a premade.

Have you made a simself?

Oh have I.

Which is your favorite EA hair color?

Red. Specifically since I prefer 4t2 clay hairs in EA's colors these days the red that's swatch 9. This one.

Favorite EA hair?

Hmmm... In ts2

And in ts3

Favorite life stage?

Young Adult, in all versions of the game. University is my favorite EP across the board.

Are you a builder or are you in it for the gameplay?

Gameplay. Every so often I feel build-y, and I have made entire custom worlds in ts3 and hoods in ts2 where I've build everything myself but mostly I prefer to just use other people's or the game's builds and just enjoy playing.

Are you a CC creator?

I sometimes feel kind of weird using the word "creator" since all I do is convert stuff but yes. I share cc.

Do you have any Simblr friends or a Sim Squad?

I don't know? I have some mutuals that I go like 😁 whenever I see in my notifs or messages from. But I don't really exactly talk to anybody.

Do you have any sims merch?

I've got a blanket with plumbbobs on it and my brother's girlfriend got me a sheet of ts4 stickers I've not used yet. Otherwise, do all the old discs and prima guides count? My discs are the most important things I own.

Do you have a YouTube for sims?

Not really. I have a youtube channel that's a hodgepodge for both my eurovision ranking videos and the occasional sims thing. But I'm not a sims youtuber at all.

How has your “Sims style” changed throughout your years of playing?

Oh boy, it has a lot. When I was a kid I destroyed pleasantview with fairy and mermaid cc from "UserDeb" on the Exchange and SapphireSims2 I think it was called? Mad emo cc and like households where it'd be two families living together so the teen girl and teen boy could secretly meet together in the dead of night in the bathroom. Back then lots of one-off totally unrelated families in an otherwise empty custom hood that I'd play for the duration of a random idea I had then drop. Then in the 2010s I had a long stint of this like making 8 YA girls and 8 YA boys and pairing them up and then graduate and marry and kid and then create 8 more YAs in CAS and repeat and that got like 15 generations once. I did that kind of not really playing but more just like breeding for years. Whereas whenever I'd stop playing 2 and play 3 instead I would "properly play" and have long ass legacies. I never touched the premade sims until I tried to play Pleasantview in 2020. I did have a few failed megahoods then. Now I am wants-based and I prefer to have as little control as possible over my sims. I could say a lot more here but I'm tired.

Who’s your favorite CC creator?

Talk about a hard question! For times sake I'm going to say @deedee-sims because when I deleted my 48+ GB folder of alpha CC to start anew maxis match-y the first new CC I had was everything of DeeDee's.

What expansion/gamepack is your favorite?

ts2 University. I just love it.

-------

I don't know who has and hasn't done this since I feel like I'm late as I never got the tag. But since I really wanted to do it, I'm sure someone else who hasn't been tagged wants to too. So if you've not done it, go for it!!

[hanafubukki]

hear me out, insane theory, but Crowley is a different timeline version Yuu.

That's why he keeps sending us to our doom, cause he knows we will get out alive and maybe, just maybe with all this experience and bonds we forge with the students, when the time comes and Grim inevitably OB's we will be able to save him (although my headcannon is that Grim OB's because something happens to Yuu), we will succeed where he did not

I needed to say this to someone cause its been spinning in my head for weeks now

Hello Noctistrash🌺🌷🌻,

Apologies for taking so long to answer, life has been chaotic.

I wouldn't say that your theory is insane at all. Yana is known for her twists and turns, so honestly, anything could be possible. 🙌🙌

I myself had theories in which I believed Yuu could be Grim, Malleus could be Crowley, and some that says Grim could be Chernabog.

So honestly never say never, after all, steering the audience one way and then surprising them with something else is always a creator’s pride.

I think the only part of your theory that would not make sense is Crowley's figure, since Yuu has no definitive look to them for self-insert purposes. But if Crowley has the powers fae do, he can always change how he looks to fit any image.

There’s also the alternate timeline yuu possibility too, since the game, novel, and manga yuus are all different 🤔🤔 so your theory has possibilities still.

It would make sense if Grim OB over Yuu because look at Malleus, him loosing loved ones is what made him OB, and Grim is in a similar situation. Yuu has been everything to him and to loose them? It would hurt him, especially after we saw what happened in book 6.

I think for sure Crowley is somehow connected to Yuu or he needs them. Yuu could be the sole anomaly that will fix, or maybe even start, whatever plan he has in the long run.

At this point, we can only guess what that is.

Thank you for sending this in ☺️💞🌻

[asherville4k]

stinkalicious gotg/mcu au where adam warlock is more important because i like my interpretation and will be using this as a base for my gotg posting. warning: long like SUPER long.

firstly, the mind stone is not in loki's possession for very long. word spreads around the galaxy fast and loki, being as he is, has to fight off many different assailants to protect the stone thanos lent him. unfortunately, it doesn't go as planned and is left in the hands of a villain we know of present day, but not yet.

we skip to age of ultron, i would really like to stick to the idea of hank pym pioneering ultrons creation but we do kind of need tony for this. to make ends meet, im going to say hank sold the rights and blueprints to ultrons development to stark hearing how he and bruce banner had been planning to make a peacekeeper virtual intelligence. most of age of ultron goes as the movie requires, but i've decided to bring it back to the past and have it so ultron is visions sole creator and does so without the mind stone. the movie plays out as it does. with a vision redemption and joining the avengers.

vision doesnt get kidnapped and targeted for the mind stone, instead he spends the time away from avengers building a deeper relationship with wanda.

as for the mind stone, this is where we hop towards the guardians of the galaxy.

the mind stone was stolen from loki by the high evolutionary and a currently unnamed army of his creation. the high evolutionary holds onto the mind stone for future use, just in case the lower earth lifeforms dont kick around for too long. this doesnt come back into play until guardians volume two where we meet the sovereign.

if youre already making connections, dont worry. the soul stone still holds its properties of trading a beloved life for the stone. it is not currently in the possesion of any notable villain or hero. thanos will still be drawn to earth by the time stone in steven strange's possession.

guardians two plays out relatively the same, but we have some higher focus on the sovereign and get a faceless reveal of the high evolutionary. we learn that the sovereign was the army that assisted in loki's loss of the mind stone, and have been plotting with him to create none other than adam warlock. ayesha is determined to have her son wield the stone but we only get allusions over the course of guardians two.

i have a scene in mind that would likely be an end-credits scene due to the fact that i cant fit it anywhere else. the high evolutionary pays ayesha a visit and informs her that thanos is currently seeking all infinity stones and that adam needs to hatch sooner than later. she explains to him that it cant be done, only to be dismissed by evolutionary. after a meaningless conversation, he grants her an extension of time for adam's hatching but only because he breaks open his cocoon and forces the mind stone in, he will need time to repair and heal but otherwise the stone should "help" the process along.

adam warlock is born just before the events of infinity war, the sovereign is prospering for a short amount of time and is convinced that they will remain prosperous. adam, is met with a dilemma however. his cosmic powers as the warlock and the mind stone allow him to view the future and past, but he cannot travel to them as he is premature. witnessing his own death at the hands of thanos and the theft of the mind stone, he also witnesses timelines present in the comics, many of which depict adam and thanos to be allied.

unfortunately, the sovereign cannot hold a candle to thanos' might and a fraction of the remaining sovereign are alive. adam's body is not destroyed but he is killed in the process. ayesha brings him to his original cocoon to heal, hoping that his abilities as the warlock will ressurect him unlike the other members of their race.

the high evolutionary finds the remains of the sovereign and is disgusted by their lack of ability. he tells the sovereign to say their last goodbyes as in the coming days, he will wipe the rest of them off the map. the sovereign is too broken to be able to save itself, so a few days wait is no concern to him. the high evolutionary does slip up, revealing to the slowly dying ayesha that his greatest creation will easily tank them and that they probably even know him. ayesha picks up very clearly that he means rocket of the guardians.

soon after the high evolutionary leaves, ayesha commands the remaining civilians of her planet to assist in the maintenance and care of her sons cocoon. the snap occurs, leaving adam alone in his cocoon.

adam wakes up after the events of endgame just in time for guardians three. the planet he wakes up on being refreshed and new. confused and upset, he informs his mother of the incoming danger of thanos. ayesha tells him thanos is no threat anymore, but that the high evolutionary is.

here we approach guardians 3, with adam being manipulated into hunting down the guardians and specifically rocket. the key difference is that ayesha and the evolutionary are not working together, and ayesha ends up dying alongside the rest of the sovereign leaving adam as the last existing sovereign.

after a certain point, adam gains the trust of the guardians and travels with them after being captive, nebula style.

[everyones-least-favorite-bard]

at the behest of some fellow orvies and western au truthers ive written a quick little snippet thats a combination of the jdj divorce arc and the divorce arc reunion

fic under the cut!

He’s trying to fit a seventh jacket into the suitcase when there’s the telltale rattle of a lock being picked and the creaky whine of his apartment door opening.

Heeled boots echo strangely through the little parlor area towards the front of the flat—he’s already packed away the dahlia-patterned rug he brought from out East. He almost can’t tell if it’s more foreign to hear the clicking of heel on wood or more foreign that he finds the sound discomfiting. It’s perhaps worst of all that he knows these boots, the way there’s a slight drag on one side from where the owner allowed the left sole to fall into disrepair, the slight rasp of beaded tassels flicking against leather. 

He ignores it of course. The damnable jacket finally relents enough to allow him to shut the suitcase and he lets out an exhausted sigh. 

“You finished fightin’ that carpet bag?”

The flippant casualty of the voice, coupled with the picking of the lock, and the tassels, and the boots, the goddamned boots incites a wave of rage so intense he has to stand in place for a couple seconds unmoving to let it pass. He exhales slowly and closes the latches on his suitcase.

“Ignorin’ a guest is real childish, Captain. Not even gonna offer me some water? I came all this way just to see you—I’m still an invalid you know. Gave your lady Doc the slip just to come see little ol’ you.” 

He can’t turn around. He can’t turn around; his hands are clenched so tight around his stupid suitcase handle the scabs spider-webbed across his knuckles are cracking, thin lines of red pushing up from under flat pads of dried blood. There’s poetry there, something about how they seem unable to do anything but tear open old wounds. He feels sick.

He closes his eyes. “What do you want.”

“So demanding! You’ll never catch a wife talkin’ like that, Cap.”

“I don’t have all day.”

“Can’t a guy just visit a friend? Or companion as you say.”

And it’s something about the way Star’s voice curls around the word, the way he turns the three syllables into something trivial, chaff in the wind, when it felt like spitting glass shards the first time he said it. He’s felt raw ever since, skin peeled back, muscle and sinew torn aside. He’s been nothing but bones since, an echo waiting for its creator to call back. It’s something about Star’s consistent irony, it’s something about the blood starting to collect on his knuckles, about red crusted under his fingernails, the red lining his eyes, it’s something about Star’s insistence on brevity, on light-heartedness until he feels like he’s drowning in cotton, he’s drifting in the margins of a story only Star knows and he’s sick of it.

“You don’t get it. You—” and now he turns, now he spins on his heel, blood running down towards his fingertips.

Star’s hands immediately fly up in a placative gesture, his eyes wide under the cotton of his mask. 

“Whoa, now, steady there, pal. You’re not still mad about Tuesday, are ya? I’m back! Shouldn’t that be enough?”

And they’re standing in his bedroom, some five or six feet apart, they’re standing in the bedroom of his one-room apartment, the dresser empty, the wardrobe empty, the walls somehow barer than they were before even though he hasn’t touched them and, and—

He almost wants to cry, is the stupid part. He hasn’t cried since he was nine years old and fell out of the big oak tree in the front yard of his parents house but he’s clenching his fists tighter and tighter and there’s something miserable and ugly coiled behind his sternum, clawing out the marrow of his bones from the inside and the only thing stopping him from crying is he’s tired. He’s so tired of it all.

Star is watching him, silent for once. Mouth a thin line. “Isn’t it?”

He turns back around and grabs his suitcase. “Go home, Star,” he says.

“No.”

“...What?” 

“I said no.”  

“What do you mean no?”

Star gnaws at his lower lip, sucks in a hissing breath before speaking. “I’m not leaving.” His arms have come back down to rest at his sides, one hand picking at the seam of his chaps.

He wants to throw something. He wants to scream, he wants to be nine years old, crying at the base of a wide, wide tree, he wants to cut the coiling mass of misery out of the center of his chest and throw it at Star’s feet. 

He doesn’t do any of it. “Fine. I’m not arguing with you.” He strides across the room, closes the five-odd feet and shoulders Star out of the way, grabbing the other two bags by the door to his room on his way.

“You—Captain!” Star unfreezes from his place and follows. “Captain, wait—”

He sets the bags down by the front door, grabs his coat off the rack on the wall.

“Captain, y’know I didn’t have a choice right? Croft had me backed in a corner; she’d almost figured me out and—well, you’re a professional, you know sometimes we don’t get to choose the easy way out—”

He can almost feel the empty space by his hip where the pocket watch used to be. He pulls a handkerchief out of his coat pocket and dabs at the blood on his knuckles.

“—come on, Cap, you threw your fit, I said my sorry, can we just move on—”

“Shut up, Star!” The words are out, cutting through his throat before he can stop them. “Would it kill you to be honest?”

And he does shut up, his mouth flattens into that awful line, the bottom half of his face going white. 

“It’s like this is a game to you. It’s like none of this is real for you. Are you having fun? I damn well hope you are because at least one of us will be.” He’s turned on a dime, he’s never been less tired in his life, there’s blood on his knuckles, there’s the weight of a gun on his hip, there’s a heaving mass of misery, of festering rage and grief and want all coiled in an awful Gordian knot and he’s shredding it with his bare fucking hands.

Star’s voice is small. That’s not right, he thinks distantly, that’s not right. 

“I didn’t like fakin’ my death. I didn’t like keepin’ all these secrets from you but I had to since, well,” he cracks a tentative, sheepish smile, “we both know you can’t act for shit, Captain.”

“I held your body.” He’s shaking all over, he’s trembling, pulled tight around himself like a spring. “I had to hold your—I held your fucking body, I told your daughter you’d—I took her to visit your goddamned grave.”

Star is silent again, eyes focused intently on a spot on the floor. 

He takes a shaking breath, grabs his hat from the rack. There’s been so many bloodstains on the old thing he can’t quite bring himself to care about the red dribbling over his fingers. 

“Is there—” and he hates how his voice breaks, “—is there anything real about you? About this?”

There’s no answer. He wants to say he expected it, but he wants to cry more than he wants to be right. He crams the hat onto his head and picks up his bags once more. 

A tugging on his sleeve.

“J–Joonghyuk, wait.”

He’d like to say it was the tone of Star’s voice. He’d like to say he could hear the regret, he could hear some sort of repentance he could absolve, some unnameable timbre of penance he could supernaturally detect, but it wasn’t. It was as simple as Star saying his name, his real name. He closes his eyes.

“What more is there to say?”

He can hear Star breathing, these awful, rattling breaths. He can’t tell if they’re from the wound at his side or from something else, some great emotional weight hanging in his larynx. He can’t tell which one he wants more.

He watches with something between horror and hope as Star reaches up and takes off his hat. Clutches it with a faintly trembling hand at his side. His other hand is still holding onto his sleeve, and without the hat he seems smaller now. Frail. 

Star looks up and he’s smiling, that same crooked curl of lips over teeth, dimpling one cheek but there’s something so distinctly sad about it, and he can’t quite tell if it’s something new or something that’s always been there, a weight always tugging on one side of Star’s smile, keeping him from completion, semi-colon in lieu of a period. 

“My name—my real name.” Star takes a shuddery breath that seems to rip through him. “I’m Kim Dokja. Twenty-eight. Only really did the deeds for half my bounties. You asked. You asked if any of this was real.” Star—Dokja—swallows. He drops his hat and reaches up slow behind his head, tugs at the knot holding his mask in place.

It loosens and it falls and he’s suddenly looking in the eyes of a man he’s been following for months, a man he’s been chasing after for what feels like years, and oh, he’s still filled with broken glass, he’s still choking on the shape of Dokja’s name in his mouth but god, he’s beautiful. 

“You asked if any of this was real. I’m tellin’ you now that this is.” Dokja lets go of his sleeve but slides down to his hand. He presses the mask into it, rough fingers running gentle over the raw, bloodied edges of his knuckles, wraps it around the opened sores. A balm come too late, a suture for a wound already gaping, already bleeding out on hardwood floor and, and, oh, he’s nine years old again, two decades since he last cried and Dokja’s closing his hand around the mask, his eyes are dark and wet and they’re maybe a foot a part, maybe they can cross that distance, maybe, maybe—

But he remembers gunpowder. Gunpowder and blood not his own running through his hands like sifting sands. He remembers scrubbing for hours, scouring his hands with hot water, with lye soap, peeling at layers upon layers of skin, peeling back his muscle, back his sinew, back to the bone and he’s hollowed out now. Nothing but marrow. He’s crying and he’s twenty-eight and he’s nine and he and Kim Dokja are more alike than he’d ever care to admit because he holds Dokja’s hands tight around his own for as long as he can stand to but at three o’clock sharp that afternoon Yoo Joonghyuk is on a train back to oak trees and dahlias out East and he doesn’t look back.