#76 days left

[fraeuleintaka]

AAIC: The Title Change

This is the 5th post in the Ace Attorney Investigations Collection Countdown: 76 days left until release!

Today's topic: the Title Change! Originally the Investigations games were known as "Ace Attorney Miles Edgeworth Investigations" and "Ace Attorney Miles Edgeworth Investigations 2: Prosecutor's Path", the latter being the fan translated subtitle name. The collection not only changes the logo, as is fitting for a remastered collection, it also changes the titles of the individual games in the collection.

The first one is now called "Ace Attorney Investigations: Miles Edgeworth". It rearranges the order of the title parts which may not seem like much but it feels like a clever way to brand this type of spin-off to the AA main series as "AA Investigations" without necessarily associating it with the name of the protagonist. Something similar was done with the other AA collections, focusing more on the shared "Ace Attorney" (and "Great Ace Attorney") instead of a character name. I'm just speculating here but this would lay the groundwork for making more Investigations games in the future and ones that could focus on different prosecutors. Maybe even my hypothetical dream Investigations 3 with Miles and Sebastian as duo-protagonists!

The larger title change is for the second game which drops the "Miles Edgeworth" entirely, making it Investigations 1's subtitle, and goes for "Ace Attorney Investigations 2: Prosecutor's Gambit" instead. The different translation is no surprise and, while I'm used to "Prosecutor's Path" and love the nice ring it has to it, I do think "Prosecutor's Gambit" works even better as a title. It continues the chess theme Investigations 2 has going on and fits perfectly to what the mastermind does in the story (which you can very much call a gambit but I won't go into detail to avoid spoilers). The fan translated title focuses more on the decision Miles has to make over the course of the story which also fits really well, especially because there's a lot of talk of characters choosing different paths, it just has no chess connection on top of that.

I also love the colour choice. The burgundy red was already the main colour for the Investigations titles, as it's Miles' main colour, but it seems like the golden shade of Investigations 2 (in contrast to Investigations 1's yellow) is chosen as the second main colour for the collection which looks beautiful together!

[daily-odile]

rendered dile

[caluupin]

a doodle that I did a bit ago

[ihaveaskeleton]

Before and After: Edna's Ghoulification

Before: Edna Murdoc, four times widow and divorceé.

After: Edna Murder-McCoy—still married to the same man after a century and a half, against all odds.

[brainworm-blitz]

I cannot wait for Elder Scrolls 6 to drop I'm gonna be fucking *insufferable* for the rest of my life. You can't run from me forever, Todd. You have to answer for your crimes one day, Todd. I'm waiting, Todd.

[daddy-socrates]

line edits have added almost an entire page to chapter 3 !! exciting but now unfortunately i do have to write more original words. i have to do composition of . philosophy. to wrap this chapter up.

[ishighrollerbackyet]

15/1/2024:

no

[peridots-pixiwolf]

[Start ID. The ending screen of the ULTRAKILL level P-2: Wait of the World. It was completed on Standard with a D rank, with 43 minutes and 47.094 seconds in time, 3020 style, and 59 restarts and kills both. The ranking board is blacked out so OP's steam username isn't shown, and on the other side of the screen the stats are unusually absent, indicating this is OP's first time beating the level. End ID]

sorry for showing up to liveblog ultrakill and then abandoning tumblr for five days in a row. It will happen again

[myth1cs]

Formula of Love (Myoui Mina x M!Reader)

Starting off the new year with Mina smut.

Word Count: 2,895

"Alright class I'll start handing back your tests."

"Y/N what do you think you got on the test?"

"I don't know Dahyun. I didn't really understand this unit."

Mina came up to your desk and handed your test upside down.

"I got an A plus Y/N! How about you?"

You turned your test over and saw your grade. "A 76%"

"So close, only a few points away from getting a B."

"I know, I'll do better on the unit exam. It's in 2 weeks right?"

"Actually it's this Friday."

"This Friday?! I'll have to ask Mrs. Myoui for help after class ends."

"Want me to wait for you?"

You and Dahyun were great friends and would walk back home together every day. On the days either you or Dahyun got sick then both of you would face time in order to still get the same experience as if the other was there.

Usually you would say yes but you didn't want to make Dahyun wait long on the occasion that you would talk to Mina for a prolonged period of time.

"No, you can go ahead and walk home. I might be talking with Mrs. Myoui for a while."

"Are you sure? We never walk home without each other."

"I'm positive."

"Alright fine."

Dahyun seemed a bit upset at your decision. But you tried to overlook it.

Class ended and Dahyun gave you a wave before she left.

"Is there something I can help you with Y/N?"

You looked at Mina and hesitated to talk with her. You were never on good terms with any teacher and Mina was no different. She wasn't a strict teacher per say but she wasn't lenient.

"Mrs. Myoui can you help me with the names of bones?"

"You want me to tutor you?"

"Yeah ... should I not?"

"No it's not that. It's just that no student has ever asked me to tutor them. You're the first, but let's not get into the details I'm more than happy to help you. So what are you struggling with?"

"I just don't think that staring at a diagram that lists the names is really helping me. Is there any other way you could teach me?"

Mina sat in her chair thinking for a moment.

An idea came into her head and you suddenly felt a shiver go down your spine. Though the air conditioner wasn't on high and the windows weren't open so you weren't sure exactly what caused it.

Mina got up from her chair and stood behind you. "Maybe it'll help you if I point it to it on you. Are you okay with that?"

The thought of having your teacher have her hands on you made your cock a little hard. You shifted your legs to cover it so Mina wouldn't notice.

"Y-yeah that's fine."

Mina hummed at your answer and placed her hands on you. Her hands roamed your body initially which elicited a low whimper from you. She took notice and smiled to herself.

"Alright let's start Y/N. You feel where my finger is now? That's your frontal bone, and this right here is your temporal bone."

"Mhm I understand."

"That's good."

Her hands slid down your body slowly. You started fidgeting with your hands trying your best to keep explicit thoughts away. She is your teacher after all you shouldn't be having such thoughts.

Mina wasn't stupid, she knew what exactly what she was doing. She was attracted to you since you first walked into the classroom at the beginning of the year. But you were her student and she was your teacher so she never acted on it.

But whenever she saw you always talking with Dahyun every day she got jealous. She started trying to get you away from her "Y/N why don't you work with Felix today?" she asked you once. You gave her the response of "Me and Dahyun always work together." ever since she's been trying to get you to herself but she has never found a good opportunity. Until Now.

"Y/N this is your sternum got it?"

"Yes."

She enjoyed watching you act this way. Your body betrayed you, it reacted with every touch she made on you. And she was getting a kick out of it.

Mina positioned herself closer to you to the point that you could feel her hot breath on you. Her lips extremely close to your ears brushing them occasionally.

She grabbed your hand "Do you feel this part of your wrist? They're called the carpal bones. And these are your metacarpal bones. Maybe feeling them on someone else would help, try feeling my hand."

It was a sloppy excuse. She just wanted you to hold her hand and she knew she was taking a risk with this. If you reported her to the administration she would get fired. If she was really unlucky she might get a charge against her.

However you were starting to catch feelings for your teacher and took her up on that offer. Reaching out your hand for Mina's you felt around her hands.

"They're so soft."

"What was that Y/N?"

She heard exactly what you said.

"N-nothing."

"Know what this bone is called?"

"The thumbs distal phalanx?"

"Correct, you're really proficient at this."

"Thank you Mrs. Myoui."

Mina wanted to take the situation to the next level. But she was still in school, it was to risky to further the current situation. She needed to get you out of the school.

"Why don't we continue this at my home?"

"You want me to go to your house?"

"Yeah, school will close soon and I want to continue this tutoring session."

"Th - that's fine."

You were a bit turned on by the thought of your teacher inviting you to her house. Mina saw the hunger in your eyes and wasn't going to miss her chance of doing more with you.

She wrote down her address and a piece of paper and handed it to you. "This is where I live, come over at five."

You nodded and headed out of the classroom. As you left school you saw Dahyun.

"Y/N! I was wondering when you would show up. What took so long?"

"Dahyun?! I thought I told you to go home without me."

"I know but I wasn't about to break tradition. What's on the paper you're holding?"

"Nothing! Come on let's just walk home."

-

It was almost time for you to go over to Mina's house. You told your parents that you were going to hang out at Dahyun's house.

"This should be the place." You double checked the address and made sure you were at Mina's house. And indeed you were.

Stepping up and knocking on the door you waited while fidgeting with your fingers.

After a few seconds the door opened "Y/N glad you could make it. Come in and sit on the couch."

It felt weird being at your teachers house but as long as it was with Mina you weren't complaining.

"Before we continue where we left off do you want anything? Maybe some food?"

You were hungry but you didn't want to bother Mina.

"I'm fine really."

Just as you said that your stomach growled.

"Don't be like that Y/N. I insist, let me make you something."

"No seriously-"

"I'm making you an omelette with ketchup."

You sighed, there was no changing her mind "Fine."

Mina went to the kitchen and started making you food while you sat on the couch unsure of what you should be doing.

"Come here to the kitchen Y/N. You can talk to me while I cook you your food."

Making your way to the kitchen you stood next to Mina.

"So are you keeping your grades up in your other classes Y/N?"

"Yes Mrs. Myoui, it's stressful but I manage."

"Drop the Mrs. Myoui it's too formal. While we're outside of school you can call me Mina."

"No really I shouldn't."

"Please Y/N just do it." She grabbed your face and made you look at her in the eyes.

"Call me Mina."

Her eyes mesmerized you. Looking at her face made you feel hot and it took all your will power to not look at her lips.

"Okay ... Mina."

"See isn't that so much better?"

"Mhm"

She took her hands off you which made you a little disappointed. She went back to cooking an omelette for you.

It took only a few minutes before she finished cooking your food. Putting it on the table for you to eat.

"Here's the ketchup Y/N."

"Thank you, Mina."

You poured the ketchup on your omelette and started to eat it.

"You're a great cook Mina."

"Thank you Y/N. To be honest I kind of winged it."

As you were eating you noticed that Mina stopped talking. You looked over at her to see her leaning on her hand staring at you. When she noticed that you figured out that she was staring at you she quickly pretended to get on her phone.

You weren't much of a confrontational person yourself so you didn't bring it up.

After you finished you got up to wash your plate but Mina stopped you.

"No Y/N I'll get it for you."

"Well I'm the guest so I shouldn't bother you."

"Well your my guest so I should be the one making sure your comfortable and feel welcomed so I should be taking care of you."

She snatched the plate out of your hands and went to the sink to wash it.

After she finished washing your plate she led you back to the living room to resume her tutoring session.

"Are you ready Y/N?"

"I'm ready."

Once again putting her hands back on your body you felt your heartbeat faster.

"You feel this Y/N? This part of your forearm is called the ulna, and this is called the radius."

She moved her hands to a spot more dangerous. They were extremely close to your cock and you were scared she would notice you getting hard.

"This part of your hip bone is the ilium."

Her hands were now pushed up against your cock.

"Around this area is where your sacrum is."

Your breath was getting heavy. You were imagining the most erotic things in your mind and your bulge was becoming more and more visible.

"Mina I get it, can you move your hand."

"But I'm not done yet Y/N I still have more to teach you."

"I already understand it."

"Getting a refresher wouldn't hurt."

Mina decided to be a little bold and put her hand around your cock.

"You're taking health class right?"

"Yes."

"What was this part of the male body called? I forgot."

"T-th-the penis."

"You're also learning about the female body right?"

"Yeah."

"Do you understand it?"

"Well ... not really but I'm learning."

"How would you feel if I helped you with learning about the female body?"

"But I thought you were going to teach me about the names of the bones in the body."

"I'm a teacher so I should teach you about everything you need help with."

"Oh okay."

"I'll take off my clothes so you can see it for yourself. You're okay with it right?"

"That's fine."

Mina started to strip off her clothes. It was slow and if you didn't know any better you would say she was trying to tease you with her body. But your teacher Mina wouldn't do such a thing ... right?

She took off her shirt and pants leaving her in just her bra and panties. You stared at her bare body for a bit but quickly turned away.

"Look at me Y/N. It's the best way to learn, you can't learn if you don't look."

Hesitantly, you turned to Mina. She looked you in the eyes and smiled at you before she continued stripping.

She tossed her bra and panties at you. You flinched as you felt them touch you but more importantly you couldn't take your eyes off the body off your teacher.

Her breasts, body, those eyes everything attracted you to her.

"You should also strip two Y/N."

"But Mina-"

"Do it for me."

Well who are you to disobey her? You listened to her and stripped off your clothing. Your clothed cock popped out from its constraints.

Mina licked her lips.

She walked over to you and grabbed her breasts. "These are breasts, go ahead and feel them."

You would be lying if you said you didn't want to but part of you didn't want to believe that this was real.

"Are you sure?"

"Go ahead Y/N this is for your education."

Taking your hands and placing them on Mina's breasts you felt how soft they were. You kneaded them brushing your thumbs over her sensitive nipples making her let out a low moan.

"Ah~ keep going Y/N."

You kept going at it. Continuously squishing them and molding them how you wanted. It made you extremely hard. You didn't want to stop there though so you decided to put your face up to her breasts and felt the softness across your face.

Unable to help yourself you licked her breast. You licked so much they were sopping wet, you licked everywhere and you felt Mina shudder every time you licked her nipples.

"So good keep going darling."

"Mina you taste amazing."

"Darling while I'm 'teaching' you privately, call me mommy."

"You want me to call you mommy?"

"Yes darling if you do I'll give you bonus points on your unit exam."

"Yes mommy."

Mina pushed you further into her breast turned on by the word you called her. It wasn't just that though she was also being turned on by the idea of fucking her student knowing she could be punished for this if she was ever caught doing so but she didn't care at the moment. The only thing on her mind at the moment was having some amazing sex.

Your hands reached to Mina's butt and squished her flesh.

"Darling do your hands have a different idea?"

You simply nodded at her.

"May I fuck your ass mommy?"

"Since you asked nicely I'll let you do whatever you want with me. And that includes cumming, don't worry darling I got my tubes tied so you won't have to worry about becoming a father."

Mina bent over for you displaying her perfect ass for you.

Unable to help yourself you swiftly inserted your hard cock deep into her ass screwing up her insides.

"Slow down darling! It hurts when you enter too quickly."

"But mommy I really want you! How can I hold myself back against someone who is as beautiful as you?"

You pulled out and thrusted yourself back into Mina's ass. Leaning down to kiss her neck in order to get her mind off the pain.

"Y/N I know your hormones are acting up but you have to slow down or you'll cum early. We should make the moment last as long as possible."

"Ugh fine I'll slow down." You weren't happy about it but you understood her points. And she was right, you did want this moment to last as long as possible.

Your thrusts became slow and you continued to kiss Mina's neck. She let out low moans as you reached over to grab her breasts. Your cock twitched inside of Mina. You pulled out and put yourself inside of her pussy.

"Darling you're really stretching me out so good."

"You're squeezing me so tight mommy!

"I bet you're girlfriend could never fuck you this good."

"My girlfriend?"

"Aren't you and Dahyun dating each other?"

"What? No, we're just friends."

"But you both hang out together all the ti-"

"Mommy I'm going to cum!"

"Wh-what? Hurry up and cum then!"

You pushed your cock deep into Mina's pussy and spewed out all your cum onto her pussy.

"Gah~ you feel so good I want to cum all over you."

"Pull out Y/N."

You obeyed and pulled out of her tight pussy. Mina turned around and started to suck your sensitive cock.

"Mina your mouth is so wet and warm."

"You don't taste half bad."

She continued to suck your cock in a sloppy manner. You moaned loudly because of her. Your moans echoed throughout Mina's whole house.

You came again inside of her mouth. Though it was a much smaller load. "Your cum tastes so good. You have to feed me this every day from now on!"

Mina laid down on the couch and you laid on her resting your head on her soft breasts.

"What time do you have to be home?"

"I think 30 more minutes before my parents get suspicious."

"Then let's rest up for 5 minutes then we'll continue."

-

The next morning you were walking to school with Dahyun.

"So how did your tutoring session with Mrs. Myoui go?"

"Mom- uhm, I mean Mrs. Myoui did a great job. I really learned a lot from her."

"Really? Well I'm glad you were able to actually learn."

"Yeah ... she took more of a physical approach and that helped a lot."

"Hey Y/N can I ask you something?"

"What's up?"

"Can I be your girlfriend?"

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

Starring: You Mina, Dahyun (Twice) Felix (Stray Kids)

[brandileigh2003]

Wolfstar "Hidden gems" underrated fics

~~~please give these authors love, fandom engagement with writers is down and it means more than you know. ~~~

I saw a post about lesser known fics yesterday and decided to try to boost some of my faves. They are under 500 kudos and deserve so much more. (I know that kudos and hits don't mean much at the end of the day, but...)

Feel free to comment or reblog your own fics or your favorites that fit!

-love finds a way by@littleoldrache Jurassic Park au ft disability and trans remus (you really can't go wrong with any of Rachel's fics though, they're amazing)

-The Standard Book Of Spells by Imparfait no voldy hogwarts au

-Tender is the touch (of someone that you love too much) by @purplefiction-ao3 (wip) multiple pov journey of remus waiting for heart transplant

--Engaged for 43 years by @halfravenhalfclaw sirius proposes at first sight at 11, follows til the afterlife (divergent)

--This Is the Way the World Ends by @blitheringmcgonagall sad but beautiful MCD

-Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations by TheQueerTailor Sixth year has just started and Remus is barely keeping up. He's just sixteen but it feels like his body is falling apart.

-Tertiary Colors by krabapple mpreg 1st war divergent, potters live (check out other fics too!)

-Black's Anatomy by @grasslesss greys anatomy fic, remus has lupus

-Give Me A Sign by @theresthesnitch soulmate fic, remus is deaf. (Wip)

-Sweets and Books by Writer_INFJ_2w1: bookshop au, chronic pain

-Babysitting For Dummies by Middleofamoment (37k) au raising teddy get together (theres a sequel and 3rd to come)

-Rarer Than One in a Million by Sp00nhater wolfstar is so soft and sweet, meet in hospital

-Tic Tic Boom by @fictionboysarebetter : Hogwarts fic, remus has tourettes (wip)

-The Ups and Downs of Inevitability by depressed_and_nauseous (check tags deals with heavy topics) remus is in Poppy's care for his safety (wip)

-Small Bones of Courage by Anonymous mcd, please read tags, sensitive topics. Later in life lycanthropy is terminal for remus.

-Flight of Destiny by @lucigoo sapphic wolfstar meet on plane (Luci also has lots of beautiful fics)

-Birthday Blues by YouBlitheringIdiot @blitheringmcgonagall :Sirius is turning sixty and he is appalled...

-Give Quarter to Old Men - @krethes series with older wolfstar

-lazing on a sunday afternoon by peachyybabe domestic slice of life

-I choose you to love for the rest of my life by Writer_INFJ_2w1 sapphic wolfstar wedding

-Puppy Magic by @demonbanisher thefifthmarauder17 magical divergent

-Consider the Lotus by busaikko: Sirius goes with remus to register at the ministry after the prank to show realities of lycanthropy

-Grow As We Go sapphicselene: post 1st war divergent, wolfstar in therapy

-From the Patient Files of Remus J Lupin, 1971 by TheQueerTailor

-While I breathe, I hope by MarigoldWritesThings by @marigold-hills divergent where remus left school after prank

-Without You by daffodilsonaprettystring Titanic mcd (wip)

-Blinded Fate by FatedEcho- Star wars meets wolfstar (wip)

-catch me on the way down by raggedypond

--To die, as lovers may by @moggetbright vampire Sirius and Hunter Remus

-The First Train Home by @houndsinheaven look into 76 and 95

-The Streak by @greyfavorite Remus dressed as a cowboy

-Francesca Syndrome by @coralsunset and diplobeanz: pining Remus

-You Drive Me Crazy by @klilyr based on you drive me crazy

-lights over harvest moon by @shoopsthereitis get together

-maybe time running out is a gift by messrsrarchives @roblogging mcd sickfic

-Love at First Bloom by viwrites @just--vi flower shop au with pining and chronically ill Remus

-cosmic entanglement by @maladaptivewriting wolfstar in every universe!!!!

-Meet Me In The Exosphere by @euripidestrousers top gun au

-Remus lupins guide on how to (not) become a quidditch seeker by Girl_rotting

-we grew up in spite of it by peachyybabe wip, remus has a twin, mcd

-beautiful boy by peachyybabe wip, mcd, based on beautiful boy

This is technically over "kudos cap" but i really don't see it rec'd enough:

-Wishes on Stars by Quietlemonhush, TherestheSnitch fairy tale: remus wishes for a friend

**this post was made in Nov 2024, so hopefully some of these numbers have changed and you've made some authors' day 💙💙

New additions:

-just being neighborly by atropos-aeneas sirius and Remus meet in Azkaban (6k)

~~~lovely reddit post about fics under 1k~~~

[moonwoodhollow]

HOHENZOLLERN ALLEE 72-76

a German-inspired 1950s apartment build + a furnished flat

A build download that was in the works for almost a month and made me realise how much I love building local architecture even though it's not the easiest within the constraints of TS4.

It's meant to represent a realistic German apartment build, that is a bit run down and yet still feels homey and nostalgic to those of us growing up near or in these buildings. There's one furnished flat that is ideal for 2-3 sims and furnished in a retro 60s-90s look, that I hope you'll enjoy! This is also a BIG 1K followers gift, with which I want to show my deepest appreciation to all my followers, thank you so much!!

More info, screenshots + DL link behind the cut!

First a little history/backstory to this build:

This build is something you'd see very often in Middle to Northern Europe, less so in the UK, because brick builds there look similar but also different and I based my build off of Northern German brick builds.

The red brick used for these builds dominates the townscapes in quite a few cities where I live and has been used for a few centuries (see Brick Gothic). This build that I based on a real building, however, is more modern and was probably built after WW2, as the design choices, like using tiles on the facades of brick builds is something distinctively 1950s. I know there are older examples, but these buildings usually have more design and decor elements on the facades. These red brick builds were built en masse starting with the 1920s and were usually meant for low-income households. The same goes for the 1950s brick builds, which were built on top of ruins of older buildings destroyed in the war and oftentimes were cheaply constructed and usually don't receive the same appreciation that older pre-war brick builds get, so quite a few are already being demolished for more modern builds.

So what do you get with this build?

Hohenzollernallee 72-76 is a 40x30 lot that I placed in Evergreen Harbor on the Sprucewood Square lot. I created 2 versions of the building, one as a normal residential lot and another as a residential rental. Just choose whatever you want! There are 6 different flats, that have been renovated at different times, which is apparent from the condition of their kitchen and bathroom.. Each flat has its own basement room and the garden is shared between all tenants and there's a shared laundry room in the basement as well.

You'll also have a restaurant shell, the Burger Lab that is not functional currently, but you could make it so if you want.

The furnished flat is playtested and ideal for 2-4 sims max and is heavily 'lived in', meaning very cluttered. I personally see an older woman living there, whose husband already died and her daughter left as soon she turned 18, but the interior was never changed or renovated. I don't know, you could probably come up with a lot of story ideas!

CC is mostly included. You'll find an Excel file with the specific file names and the dl link for all CC that is not included. The build will probably still look okay-ish without the excluded CC but I strongly recommend downloading it, if you do not already have it.

Thank you, especially to these lovely creators: @budgie2budgie, @sforzinda, @surely-sims, @pluto-sims, @syboubou.

@myshunosun, @charlypancakes, @peacemaker-ic, @kkbsmm, @leaf-motif

@awingedllama, @kirsicca, @baufive, @lumenniveus, @kiwisim4 and many more!! it's because of you that this build looks the way it does <3

Uses items from the following packs: For Rent, Growing Together, High School Years, Cottage Living, Snowy Escape, Eco Lifestyle, Discover University, Island Living, Get Famous, Seasons, Cats and Dogs, City Living, Get Together, Get To Work, Werewolves, My Wedding Stories, Dreamhome Decorator, Strangerville, Vampires, Dine Out, Tiny Living, Laundry Day, Backyard Stuff, (Kits): Party Essentials, Basement Treasures, Greenhouse Haven, Bathroom Clutter, Everyday Clutter, Desert Luxe, Little Campers, Décor to the Max, Industriel Loft & Courtyard Oasis

Download: Google Drive | also up on the gallery: aeromantica (but you'll need the cc files from the Drive folder!)

-> Info: I tried to not include merged files, but there are about 3-5 that I missed, sorry :(

TOU: please don’t claim as your own or put behind paywalls etc. If you find any issues (wrong files, etc.) please let me know + tag me if you’ll use the house, I’d love to see it in your games.

[thelaurenshippen]

ao3 wrapped simulator

you read for 67,680 minutes. that's 47 days straight.

you read 812 fics total, but you read 76 of them more than 4 times.

for a total of 35 million words.

you showed the love by leaving 704 comments on 297 fics. your most common comment was "AKLDDASKFJLKSDFJHAJSHFIUELNAKDCNAGKDH!!!!!!"

you love to revisit. you hit the "kudos" button not realizing you'd already left kudos there 1,304 times

your top tags were:

pining

slowburn

hate sex

fluff

major character death

you're a night owl. your reading peaked between 11pm and 4am

you were an explorer! this year you read 4 tags for the first time: A/B/O, gen fic, praise kink, crush at first sight

there was one ship you loved most of all: for the ninth year in a row, your top ship was hannigram

but you're not monogamous. you also read a lot of stucky, scully/mulder, and animorphs

and you were in the top .01% of readers in The Expanse (TV) tag

and you were in the top .001% of writers for a ship our automated system can't even find because it doesn't have enough tagged fics

you wrote 17 fics this year, for a total of 1.4 million words. 16 of those fics were explicit.

wow! you're passionate! you created 85 bookmarks with the book mark tag "i wanna die"

your fic town is nome, alaska. no, we're not going to explain this.

thank you for spending another year on ao3 <3

[defectivevillain]

those who fall

pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Reader (can be platonic or romantic)

reader's race and gender are ambiguous; no pronouns or physical descriptors are used.

summary: “What’s your name?” You ask your companion. “Hannibal,” he responds. The man doesn’t look the slightest bit malnourished, despite your predicament. Either he’s new here, or he’s been able to keep his hunger satiated. “Hannibal,” you repeat, taking note of his vaguely European accent. “That’s a strange name.” Hannibal just blinks. The man looks almost expressionless, but you can see a hint of irritation at the edges of his faux smile.

word count: 3k | ao3 version

warnings: canon-typical blood and violence, death, suicide, cannibalism, gore, suicidal ideation/self-harm. Emphasis on the cannibalism — both willing and non-consensual cannibalism. Mentions of throwing up/vomiting.

author's notes: Happy spooky pride! (I'm being told it's also called Halloween...? Weird.) Here’s a really fucked up fic. :3

If y’all haven’t watched The Platform, here’s the trailer, which should explain things. I’ve also attempted to write an explanation, but it’s long and bad. Here it is anyways, in case you don’t want to watch the trailer:

There is a vertical prison system that stretches more than 300 levels down. Each floor houses two people, and there’s a large hole in the middle to accommodate a table. Each day, a single table starts at Floor 0 and makes a stop at each floor. The table is loaded with a ton of dishes for a large and extravagant meal. Floor 1 gets the table for a short time before it drops to Floor 2. So on and so forth. People aren’t allowed to take things from the table to save for later, so it’s a scramble to eat enough to keep them nourished until the next day. They’re all eating from the same table, so as the floors get lower, there’s less and less food left. Inhabitants stay on their floor for one month, before they’re exposed to gas and moved to a different floor for another month. Basically, the lower the floor, the less likely you’ll be to get any food. In theory, if each person ate only their own ration, the food might last. But some people are greedy, wasteful, etc... A floor below 100 is virtually a death sentence, because that means 200 people pick at the food before you get to.

heed the warnings listed above before reading!

You wake up, blinking away the traces of a gas-induced sleep. It’s the beginning of the month, which means you’ve been transported to another floor in the facility. Groaning, you blink blearily, only to find someone staring down at you. You flinch and get up, hoping he’ll move away. But he continues looming over you, looking at you with a scrutinizing gaze. 

“You must be my new roommate,” he says emotionlessly. 

“How’d you wake up so fast?” You respond, squinting at the daylight seeping through the room. Typically, the gas is strong enough to leave you knocked out for at least twelve hours. But this man is already awake, and there’s no telling how long he’s been standing before you, watching you. The thought unnerves you. 

He just shrugs in lieu of a response to your question. You take a deep breath and turn towards the far wall, dread coiling in your chest as your eyes find the number of the floor you’re on: 139. Fuck. You’ve never been this low before. You had the 76th floor last month and the 23rd the month before that, then 87, 6, and 53. You had no idea the floors went down past 100; all you knew was that you’d be getting a new roommate this month, in light of your past roommate’s death. 

Floor 139 is practically a death sentence. You’d normally be able to fast thirty days, but you spent all of last month fasting at Floor 76. (You didn’t have much of a choice, as the food never made it down to you in the first place.) You push yourself to your feet and walk near the center of the space, glancing down only to find more floors stretching down as far as the eye can see. There are dozens—maybe hundreds—of people beneath you. You want to throw up. 

“You look frightened,” your new roommate remarks, breaking you out of your spiraling thoughts. You glance at him, unable to hide your irritation. 

“Of course I am,” you snap, beginning to pace around the edge of the hole in the floor. “The food will never make it down this far.” 

“How do you know?” He hums. There’s a knowing smile on his face, as if he wants you to concede and utter the words aloud. 

“The food didn’t even make it down to level 87,” you recall, shaking your head as you try to fight off memories of an aching stomach and a debilitating weakness anchoring you to your bed. “And we’re fifty-two levels beneath that.” 

Silence. You swallow hard and try to maintain your composure. Panicking won’t do you any good.  And you definitely don’t trust this stranger enough to show him any sort of emotional vulnerability. You bite the inside of your cheek and think for several minutes. “What’s your name?” You later ask your companion. 

“Hannibal,” he responds. He takes another step backwards and light falls on his face, revealing a chiseled facial structure, brown-grey hair, and glimmering brown eyes. The man doesn’t look the slightest bit malnourished, despite your predicament. Either he’s new here, or he’s been able to keep his hunger satiated. 

“Hannibal,” you repeat, taking note of his vaguely European accent. “That’s a strange name.” Hannibal just blinks. The man looks almost expressionless, but you can see a hint of irritation at the edges of his faux smile. 

“How’d you lose your roommate?” You continue determinedly, desperate for some information on this guy. Something about him unsettles you. It must be the unbothered way with which he analyzes your surroundings, as if you hadn’t both just been given a finite expiration date.  

Hannibal studies you for a long moment. “You don’t want the answer to that question.” He eventually answers. A shiver rolls down your spine. 

“You killed them,” you realize aloud. 

“And ate them,” he confirms casually. Your heart starts thudding quickly in your chest. You pretend not to be affected by his confession. Internally, you’re scared for your life. To think that you’d survived months of starvation, only to die at the hands of another human? “What happened to your roommate?” Hannibal continues, before you can truly collect your thoughts. 

“They jumped.” You remember to say, the taste of bile climbing up your throat. There’s no need for further explanation. 

“Ah.” A tense quiet descends on the air once more, and the two of you spend the seemingly countless hours before the table’s arrival in silence. 

When you finally hear the telltale whirring of the table above, your stomach growls. You need food rather desperately—especially after not receiving any legitimate nutrition last month. Your hands are shaky; your vision is blurry; and your legs feel as if they’ll cave in at any moment. 

The glassware rattles and the table sinks down to your floor. Hannibal and you both look at the remnants of the meal from above, only to find plates licked clean and glasses entirely empty. As you expected, there is nothing left for you to eat: not even a crumb or bone. 

There is, however, a man crouched on the table. He stares ahead with blank eyes, as if he doesn’t even see either of you. You look at him for a few moments, immediately promising yourself not to get any closer. In this place, vulnerability is weakness. You’ve seen it happen before: someone will extend a helpful hand to another person, only to be stabbed through the back in the same breath. There is no saving anyone here. You are all destined for death, regardless of when it may come. 

Hannibal regards the new arrival for several seconds, before quickly reaching out and grabbing his collar, yanking him off the table and onto the pavement. You watch in disbelief as Hannibal brandishes a knife—when in the hell did he get that?—and stabs him several times. Your roommate’s ferocity ensures the man’s death. Calmly, Hannibal drags the corpse by the ankles until it’s closer to the walls. 

Then, he sinks his knife into the body’s skin. The victim, unsurprisingly, doesn’t so much as flinch. The knife pierces the skin of his chest and Hannibal sinks his hand into the cavity, gripping the entrails and pulling them out with practiced precision. He gets to his feet, holding the liver in his hand. You watch in silent horror as his head turns and his gaze finds you, his eyes trained on you even as he raises the organ to his mouth and begins eating. 

Your stomach turns in disgust and revulsion. You’ve survived months of fasting—you never ate another human, despite the earsplitting screams from above and below indicating that several other inhabitants did. Even though you know you need to eat, the thought of tearing into that corpse is enough to make your appetite disappear. You quickly turn your head and clamp a hand over your mouth, before raising it to cover both your nose and mouth. The scent is enough to make you nearly hurl. You close your eyes and pretend you’re somewhere else—anywhere else, but trapped on this floor with a cannibal. 

Your ears are ringing at the confirmation that Hannibal is a seasoned killer. This was not his first kill, and it likely won’t be his last. There is a very good chance you’ll be his next meal. Fear pulsing through your veins, you manage to pull your knees close to your chest and close your eyes. The cool metal of your lighter grounds you to this horrible moment, this stiff and unfeeling air. 

If you had known just what horrors you would be subjected to, you would’ve chosen a different object to bring. Maybe you would’ve even chosen a weapon to protect yourself or a form of entertainment. But your naive self chose a lighter—not even for smoking, but just to watch the flickering flame. Your finger now twitches to bring the flame to your skin, but you resist the urge. There is enough pain and suffering here without your own self-inflicted torture. 

It is hard to sleep that night. Your thoughts are buzzing too loudly. It takes a while for your eyelids to slip shut, and once the table comes rocketing by, you shudder awake and have to fall asleep once more. When you finally succumb to slumber, your dreams are distorted and cryptic. 

The weird sensation of something in your mouth pulls you from slumber. You open your eyes to find Hannibal standing over you, the crimson light casting shadows across his face. You instinctively want to belch at the foreign material, but Hannibal’s hand is secured firmly over your mouth. You immediately catch on to what he’s doing: he’s feeding you some of the corpse’s meat. 

You try to fight back—attempting to shove him off—but his grip is too strong and you’re weakened by hunger and lack of sleep. You’re forced to chew, unless you want to choke and die. A shudder runs through your entire body as you chew, disgusted with the texture. The taste of iron and copper runs through your mouth; the smell alone is enough to make you gag. After what feels like far too long, you manage to swallow. 

Satisfied, Hannibal steps away—and you immediately fall off your bed and to the floor, stumbling to the sink to drink some water and flush the organ down. “Fuck you,” you spit at him, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. It comes back bloody, and you take extra effort to scrub your face clean. Hannibal doesn’t seem to be affected by the insult. Rather, he’s wearing an understanding smile on his face—and you’re growing more and more overtaken with the urge to punch that look off his face. You clench the faucet with an increasingly tight grip, until there are bolts of pain sliding through your fingers. 

“You will thank me soon,” Hannibal remarks, staring at you. You can see his heated gaze in the cracked mirror before you. It’s clear what he’s trying to say: if you don’t eat, you will die.  

“I won’t,” you say numbly, your heart roaring in your ears. “You should’ve left me alone.” Your voice breaks at the end of that sentence; if Hannibal notices, he doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he only looks at you imploringly. 

“You need proper nourishment.” Hannibal maintains. 

You hiss and walk back to your bed, turning to the side so you don’t have to look at him. You’re not foolish enough to turn your back on him—not when you know just what he can do. You don’t want to indulge his murderous sensibilities. You spend the rest of the day split between seething and suppressing the urge to throw up.

When night falls, Hannibal goes to sleep. You only pretend. When you hear the steady rise and fall of his breathing, you push yourself up quietly and sit on your bed. You will not fall asleep tonight. You don’t want a repeat of last night. 

Despite your quiet movements, it doesn’t take Hannibal long to notice that you’ve shifted. “You’re not sleeping,” he says aloud, admittedly startling you as the uneasy silence across the space is broken. When you comprehend his remark, you can’t stop the wry laugh that falls from your lips. 

“I don’t trust you,” you respond candidly. There’s no point in pretending otherwise.  

Hannibal lets out a strange noise. It takes you a few moments to realize that he’s just laughing. “If I wanted to kill you, I would’ve done it already,” he then says. “You are… the least insufferable of my companions so far.”

You blink in the near darkness. “Thanks.” You say dryly. That statement isn’t reassuring in the slightest. You don’t want to wake up to find him forcing organs down your throat again. The thought sends a renewed wave of nausea through you, and it takes you several moments of measured breathing to fight it off. 

Eventually, you fall asleep. You can only fight off the exhaustion for so long, and if you’re not eating, then you definitely need to be resting to conserve energy. 

You wake the next morning breathing hard, expecting to see Hannibal looming over you. But he’s only sitting on his bed, regarding you with a blandly amused look. It appears he won’t be forcing you to consume human entrails again. 

But little do you know, Hannibal doesn’t have to force you next time. 

It’s been sixteen days since that horrible night. Sixteen days without food. Your body has grown incredibly weak. You can barely push yourself up to get to the faucet across the room. Speaking takes too much energy. Most of the time, you just lie on your bed and stare at some point in the distance, losing yourself in memories long gone. 

You can’t find the energy to waste on getting angry. Instead, you’re just… empty. The movement of the table is the only thing that helps you discern the time. The corpse Hannibal took all those days ago has since become a rotted pile. Neither of you have seen anything resembling food on the table. The people above are merciless. They eat the rations of several people; they spit on everything in reach. 

You don’t bother to look up at the table’s arrival today. There will be nothing for you to eat. And indeed, when you finally drag your eyes over, there is only glassware and silverware… scattered around a person in the center. They sit cross-legged and stare ahead with that similar unseeing expression from the man all those days ago. 

You don’t need to watch to know what happens next: Hannibal drags them onto the pavement, brandishes his knife, and kills them. He dissects them with the mercy of a disinterested scientist, before sparing you a simple look. There’s a single drop of blood carving a path down his lips. Hannibal wipes it away. 

You extend a hand wordlessly. 

Hannibal stares at you, a complex emotion passing over his face as quick as lightning. He places a bloodied chunk in your palm. The crimson stain spreads across your skin. You look down at it and feel… nothing. There’s an echo of disgust and horror, perhaps. But beyond that, you’re an empty shell. This place has changed you. Emotions do not survive here—instinct does. And your instincts tell you that you need food. 

Minutes later, the gnawing pain in your stomach has subsided and there’s the horrifically familiar taste of iron settling on your tongue. You swallow hard and slowly push yourself to your feet, mechanically walking over to the sink and getting some water to wash it all down. Your hands are shaking but you manage to satisfy your thirst. Turning the faucet off with shaking hands, you lean against the wall and sink down into a sitting position. 

There’s dried blood on your hands. It doesn’t matter that you washed it away—you can still see it. It haunts you, even when the night arrives and the floor is drenched in crimson light. You’ve since migrated to your bed, but you can’t get yourself to move from your sitting position and lie down. You can’t give yourself comfort. You don’t deserve it—not after what you’ve done. 

You’re not sure how long you sit silently, watching the darkness settle and fade into a dusky light. There’s a persistent pain in your back and your cuticles are picked open, yet these sensations fade to obscurity when you remember the meal you just willingly consumed. You had no choice seventeen days ago. You can’t say the same for yesterday.

There’s an uncomfortable wetness clinging to your cheeks and eyelashes. You’re crying, you realize. It’s been a while since you’ve cried, even with all the horrors you’ve witnessed here. You shakily wipe at your tears, but they keep falling. Falling prey to the burning in your throat, you bury your head in your bent knees and struggle for breath. 

At some point, there’s a hand on your back. You’re so exhausted that you don’t even flinch, because you can’t seem to muster up the energy. Your body is wracked with chills and phantom shivers as you try to comprehend just who is offering you comfort. The same person who kills others with ease and feasts on their remains… is wrapping an arm around your shoulders and sitting on your bed next to you. 

You don’t have the strength to push Hannibal away. You lack the strength and fortitude to do so. Hannibal is the only human contact you will have, if you continue living. You don’t have a choice—if you want to maintain your sanity, you’re forced to cave into the loneliness screaming behind the confines of your rib cage. That’s what you tell yourself as you reluctantly begin to relax in his hold. You cling to him with increasing desperation. Hannibal’s hand rises to the nape of your neck, cradling your head in what feels like an intimate gesture. 

You can’t stop the sobs crawling out of your throat. 

You want to assign Hannibal the blame. But you know it’s not that simple. He didn’t put you in this prison system; he is nothing more than another participant: one with the courage to keep themself alive, at any cost. Perhaps you should be more like him.

…It’s a chilling thought. 

You have never been so desperate for answers, inside bleak cement walls that give you nothing except more questions. The sparkling silverware; the gleaming glassware; the callous cruelty of those above; the painful plight of those below. There is no solidarity or community amongst the people in these walls: only the concepts of superior and inferior… and the fallen. Those who have been above, have savored without suffering… only fall from grace and stumble into starvation’s relentless grip once more. 

Your tongue recognizes the taste of copper; your hands the crimson stain that becomes a murky brown as time passes. You have fallen. And of one thing, you are certain: you will never rise again.

thanks for reading! <3

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[gladiatorcunt]

- # 🎰 All or Nothing (Ace in the Hole) !!

cw: afab!reader, breeding, implied murder, inaccurate fallout au (vault inspired by Fallout 76 bc i just wanted one mention of appalachian horror vibes), reader lowkey has a old man fetish (mentions of age gaps though no specific men are mentioned), childhood best friends to strangers to lovers (forcibly), future extreme dubcon, fallout typical sexism and expectations & creepy behavior (attempted grooming (?)), biblical undertones, ambiguous time period, implied southern setting & characters, unedited

1k event / commissions

It’s been so quiet for ages now, deathly silent as if everyone in the world was perfectly sound asleep. Your world consists of metal tunnels buried deep underground, a myriad of dark rooms that are meant to simulate the life you’re supposed to have on the surface. A cafeteria, where there’s hearty chuckles and playful ribbing over food even astronaut’s would have turned their noses up at. Piles of meat the same color as a fresh corpse, slightly moldy cheese and bread on the days the ego maniac people in charge are feeling fancy.

Green Houses, meeting rooms, infirmarys, kitchens, breeding rooms bedrooms, you truly have it all in vault 426. Jewel of the Texas Commonwealth. Even the howling coming from above like a hailstorm can be soothing when you have nothing else to listen to. They say your name when your back is turned, when they know you can’t venture out to see them. The temptation has driven people mad before, it will again. Right now, you wander through the vault searching for any sign of life. Yesterday you were arguing with your Ma over what she had done, hitching your wagon to one of the few unclaimed men your age. Now you were wishin’ on stars the elders used to talk about seein’ that you would peek around the rusting corner to find her waiting. You don’t want to wonder why there’s blood on the wall, varying between bright and darker shades of red.

Not a single peep from the man you were meant to marry, ‘your last chance at a proper purpose’ Pa had said. This vault wasn’t strongly steered in the direction of being a hive for breeding, but in these uncertain times more pairs of hands ready to rebuild the world were more than encouraged. Seeing as this bubble of refuge from the acid sky was so precious, every life counts. You knew that future would be yours someday, and you didn’t really mind. It got boring occasionally in the vault, knitting the same garment again and gossiping with your Ma’s friends about the same subjects. Maybe a cock in your cunt would settle your nerves, caring for a baby would be a task that would never end.

The wedding was supposed to be today, at noon on the dot. You overslept, panicking when your kitschy alarm clock didn’t rouse you from your dreamless sleep. It wasn’t until you zipped up your blue and yellow suit and tip toed outside of your room that you truly felt afraid. What reason would you have had to feel the uncomfortable emotion before? Life was so serene and idyllic nestled in the dirt, your vault a poor man’s sword in the stone. An intoxicating comfort zone that you cared more about staying in than fighting against, though there whispers from dwellers who felt otherwise. Your childhood friends, Patrick and Art, who you have drifted apart from over the years.

It was childish, your past feelings of jealousy, it wasn’t hard for them to become the most eligible bachelors in the community. There were only a handful of single young men left these days, or your only option was a old timer who had already broken in quite a few wives. They have the chipped belts and rough hands to prove it, you’ve gotten a rush of fluid in between your thighs when you lie awake and think about it for too long. Perhaps it wouldn’t be too terribly awful if you got saddled with a stern older man, some beaten down part of your brain begs for it. Your Pa’s buddies used to say that they would bet good money on tight your velvet grip would be.

There were many invitations to sit in on their blackjack games left unanswered in your Ma’s nightstand, under brass lock and key.

But to see your friends be giggled and fawned over made your stomach churn, so you pushed them away and focused on living as any good dweller would. Preparing to spend your years with your lips frozen in a smile and your holes split open around wrinkly skin, your shape molded by your husband. If you could’ve known that that would only make more determined to prove their toughness to you, that they would be the hands clasping pearls around your neck and slamming their dicks into your untouched flesh.

“Aw, hell-” A deep voice gasps and grabs ahold of your fore arms, wrestling you into an abandoned bedroom as you walk past.

You squawk, flapping your arms around in an effort to fight. Then you see him, Art, smiling gently and reaching out to cup your tear covered cheek. His other hand is free, which means that the man restraining you has to be Patrick. Where one is, the other will he close behind. There’s a saying about smoke and fire, and you hear the crackling embers as Art gingerly slides his other hand around your neck. A new fangeled set of pearls, hard won and all yours. Call it an engagement present.

“There you are, Angel Face, we were so damn worried about you.” Art coos, the ‘damn’ hissed in a way that gives off a ‘I still haven’t got used to being allowed to swear’ impression.

You think he could the be the angel, a scythe discarded in favor of a well used hatchet lying on the floor. His blood splattered curls call to you, or the absurdity of the situation must be sinking in and overpowering your ability to accept reality. Of course you had sensed their hungry eyes burning holes into your soul, yes you had heard the shuffling and muffled shouts outside your door. The way it would creak open when you were believe to have succumb to slumber. You don’t feel bored, and that’s enough of a thrill for you to recognize where your new place in the food chain is. The bottom.

“I don’t- I- What’s goin’ on? Where is everybody?” You ask, stupid and content to be their lover in distress.

Patrick readjusts his hold on you and wraps his arms fully around you, spinning you around to come face to face with him. If you thought Art looks drenched in blood, Patrick appears to be made of it. There’s lightning in his eyes, a phenomenon you’ve only heard and never seen. But this must be what it’s like, electrifying and God given. You’re stained now, no doubt about it, visibly and in your spirit.

“They went nuts, like a bunch of rabid dogs.” He grunts. “We had to defend ourselves, had us out here runnin’ around like headless chickens because you were gone.”

You weren’t brought up to know much, except that animals will be animals and man reacts accordingly. Patrick’s words make about as much sense as anything ever could, and you’re desperate to believe whatever yarn they have to spin you. Art nods and saunter up behind you. He wetly pecks you on the cheek, his lips ‘Smack!’ing the plump skin as he pulls back. You gasp and they share a foreboding laugh, shoving you further down a long dusty hallway where you can pretend that nothing bad has ever happened to you. That your Virgil and Dante followed after you with innocent intent.

“Get ‘em in the stirrups, Pat. Need these legs spread nice and wide. Don’t we, sugarpie?”

Your heart drops and floats back up at a jackrabbit’s pace, “W-what?”

Your look over your shoulder is perfectly timed, your hair framing your face like a pre-war Hollywood starlet. The kind that could cry at the drop of a hat and deep throat a stuffy executive’s cock in one go. Simmering heat pools in your belly, every circle of hell seemingly setting themselves aflame in your body. And while you know they wouldn’t dare seriously terrify you, they would probably get a kick in their pants if you let a sliver of fear slip. They’re men who no longer have a societies rules to wear as if they were costumes after all, perfectly chiseled faces and painted masks.

Offering you a marriage license so they plant you in a gilded cage, but Midas ghosted his fingers along your roots years ago. When you stumbled in on two boys playing a game that used to be popular in the pre-war days, a yellow-green fuzzy ball bouncing on a wired net racket. You giggled when an elder scolded them for staging their challengers match in the hall. And with the sound of a bell, the walls came tumblin’ down.

Patrick’s grin writes your name on the dotted line, “Our pretty lil’ cock socket, we’ll repopulate in no time at all.”

They had already stolen your wedding outfit that same day way back when, slim pickings have to be snatched up in this dog eat bitch world. But they were something far above dogs with malleable forms and a blunter bite, they were opportunists and God always has his eye on those who can seize what he provides.

The House always wins.

- 2024, do not cop/translate/feed my work to ai

[timdoubleyou]

i found jay’s black jacket (an ID guide)

This black jacket is worn by Jay about 9 times throughout Marble Hornets, including his final appearance. And after some weeks of on-and-off research, I think I know the exact make and model.

This post will detail exactly how I found it, and serve as a guide for anyone that wants to find the jacket, whether that's for cosplay purposes, or if you're just keen on collecting items related to MH.

Main post under the cut

Intro

The first step to identifying the jacket was to gather as many references as possible.

I went back to the web series and took screenshots from any entries the jacket makes an appearance. (shoutout to mg549′s very comprehensive MH wardrobe guide, without it this would’ve been much more of a pain)

Jay's jacket is, for the most part, very plain. It's a solid color, full-zip jacket, without any particularly eye-catching logos or other details. I had to look for moments where even the slightest distinction appeared clear on camera, at least as distinct as it can be. Even if it was just close-ups to get the shape of a zipper, or how many buttons are on a sleeve, it was the best I got. While I did manage to find a decent amount of these, there was just one crucial detail that would've made finding it near-impossible; the brand is never shown. Thankfully, I had another resource.

In 2018 Troy Sold a Lot of Stuff

In early 2018, Troy officially announced that MH would be continued in a comic series. To fund the first issue, he held a number of auctions for production items used during the web series on Ebay.

These included items such as Jay’s camera, Brian’s hoodie, A Masky mask, and Jay’s black jacket.

Lo and behold, the jacket listing includes a picture with the brand in clear view. It's from Gap.

Ebay does not archive sold listings older than 90 days. However, Worthpoint, a website for valuing and pricing collectibles, does. Using Worthpoint I was able to find all of these items, (and a lot more, which can be found in this doc I submitted to Archive Hornets)

Identification

With the picture from the listing and the series screencaps, I had a complete ID list.

(Top image is from the Ebay listing, with the contrast adjusted a little for easier viewing. The bottom two images are from Entry #79)

The Gap logo (This specific logo dates the jacket being made anywhere between 1986 and 2009, when it first appears).

Front Zipper (Note the shape)

The two front pockets

The two buttons and pointed cuffs on each sleeve (Second one is a little hard to see but it's jusstt peeping out at the side)

The blue piping in the inner lining

The zipper in the right side inner lining

The gray mesh inner lining

With these in mind, I could now go to the next and longest step-

Finding the Jacket

I combed three resell sites; Ebay, Depop, and Poshmark. My main goal wasn't to actually purchase the jacket, (although, I would like to at some point) but to find a jacket listing that had every identifier, and have a more definite baseline for finding others. I needed to be sure what I had was enough to properly ID the jacket. The references I had stitched together were decent enough, but I wanted to see if there was something better out there.

After tons of page scrolling and tab-switching and comparing and contrasting, I finally got lucky.

(first two images are from crashthecloset's listing on poshmark, last six are from shannfo-76 on ebay)

I haven't bought one myself as of posting, but I feel pretty confident this is it. The jackets were already sold, but every marker seemed to be accounted for. It also revealed new ones, like the reflective pattern and pockets on the inner lining, (zipper on the right side pocket, button on the left pocket) and the materials tag.

With that, here's some final notes that may be helpful if you try looking for the jacket yourself:

Online sellers often describe it as a light jacket, a windbreaker, a 2-in-1, or 3-in-1.

"Gap Mens Black Jacket" is the search phrase I used the most since it yielded a (very) broad result pool.

Most of the jackets I found came from Poshmark or Ebay.

The exact size of Jay’s jacket is unclear. My best guesses are either a US Men’s S or M, since Jay was pretty skinny and of average height. I’ve only been able to find maybe 2 jackets that are a size M, one of which is the first pic in the photoset above.

Gap has sold other black jackets that look remarkably similar to Jay’s, and they do pop up on resell sites. One of these was so similar, the only discernible difference was the style of the logo. I highly recommend making sure it matches the exact one Jay had before purchasing. (It's also more than fine to ask/msg me if you have any doubts!) As long as you know what to look for, you shouldn’t have a problem finding at least one.

One detail that confounded me was this sleeve poking out of Jay's jacket. At first I thought he was wearing a long sleeve underneath, making this shot a continuity error since he appeared to Only be wearing the green short sleeve under the jacket.

@hivemite pointed out that this might be a two-in-one jacket, which has multiple layers for different types of weather. While I have not been able to see the sleeve outside of two shots in entry #79 and #80, one listing I found did describe it as a 3-in-1.

that's about it! hope this helps :)

[incorrectbatfam]

Can I ask for how the Goons meeting the Wayne's as civilians would go? Neither know each other's... extracurricular activities. Do they get along?

[Gotham University]

Professor: The average on the last test was 76 but since some where able to get 100, I will not be curving the grades.

Other student: Man, someone's always wrecking the curve.

Booker, who got 100: My bad.

Steph, who also got 100: Also my bad.

———————

[Discord voice chat]

Barbara: So Luke, Helena, and Bette weren't the imposters. That still leaves five of us. I'm gonna go back to the control room. Nobody better follow me.

Mac, the imposter: *follows her*

———————

Gene: Excuse me, do you know the directions to the nearest bioweapons storage?

Tim, scrolling through his phone: Down the road, take a left.

Gene: Thanks!

Tim: *pauses*

Tim: Hold on a second—

———————

[Gotham High School]

Teacher: For your next project—

Duke, rushing in after a fight: Sorry I'm late! I, uh, forgot my backpack.

Teacher: Just take a seat, Mr. Thomas. As I was saying—

Duke: *sits at an empty lab table*

Milo, walking in with a black eye and coffee: Morning, Miss K.

Teacher: Sit down, Mr. Carr. I'll talk to you after class. Now for the project...

Milo: Yo, this seat taken?

Duke: Be my guest.

Teacher: Here is the rubric and the person next to you will be your lab partner.

Duke, looking at Milo: Haven't I seen you somewhere?

Milo: I have one of those faces. Anyway, since we're lab partners, how do you feel about blowing stuff up?

Duke: I'm down.

———————

[on the side of the road]

Otto: Stupid piece of junk, always picking the wrong time to conk out on me.

Dick, pulling over: Need a hand?

Otto: You don't happen to have any jumper cables on you, do ya?

Dick: As a matter of fact, I do. It's a funny story, actually. It all started when I was a child. Back in my day...

———————

Molly: *leaves the bathroom*

Cass, tapping her shoulder: You forgot something.

Molly: Oh, right.

Molly: *picks up her drug stash*

———————

[at a bar]

Jason: Uh... would you quit staring at me. It's weird.

Kellin: You were ranked one of the Top Ten most attractive men this year according to the Gotham Gazette.

Jason: Yeah, I was.

Kellin: I don't see it.

———————

Harper: *dumpster diving for parts*

Blaise: *dumpster diving for things to burn*

Harper: *hands him a newspaper*

Blaise: *hands her a wrench*

———————

[at the pool]

Rob: So which one's yours?

Bruce: The one swinging the pool noodle. You?

Rob: The ones behind him with water balloons.

Bruce: I'm going to get another drink. Would you like one? It's on me.

Rob: Sure, why not?