#But this really moved me so I thought I'd post it

[elizabethminkel]

hi i read your article on fanfiction culture changing and it reminded me of a comment i got on a fic in 2023. (i was going to say this year/recently but then i checked and wow time moves fast) it was phrased like i wasn't ever going to see it. which is weird bc there were only 2 other comments both of which i'd responded to. it was written almost to an audience that did not include me. idk what that says about the "culture" but i enjoyed your article!

Aw <3 thank you so much! (If anyone hasn't read it yet, this is in reference to "The Endless Appetite for Fanfiction.")

That's super interesting, and definitely relates to this broader ~thing~ imo. My first thought is about the (significant?) rise in people putting fic reviews on Goodreads. That's definitely part of the overall context collapse—and deeply annoys me!!—but it does make me think about the concrit conversation, and how fandom post-LJ has largely shut down critical discussion of fic, which was not a rarity back in the day. (I'm not opening that can of worms now lol.) Like, I have sympathy for the Discord fic book clubs, because you should be allowed to say whatever you want about a fic in private! But I feel like that needs to be just one component, especially if you have a lot of positive things to say about a work.

Funnily, I got a comment somewhat recently that felt, at least in one bit, like it was addressed more to the world than to me. It was a really nice comment! But I showed it to a friend in my confusion (and then just replied like it hadn't struck me as odd). I've also received comments in the last few years on older stories in which the commenter acts like I've long departed from my fandom—when I've published new works as recently as a few weeks prior, and post on my (linked from my AO3 profile) tumblr daily. Which seems related, too—like, me, the fan, is still right there, very easy to see?

I do think there's something to be said about depersonalization across social media, and the way people collapse "content creators" with their "content" (to be clear, I'm not calling fic writers or fic either of these things, but part of this whole situation is that a lot of readers are thinking of them that way). Like, the creator economy is structured to encourage people do that, even. And of course there's great commentary here on tumblr dot com and elsewhere about how people talk to strangers in ways they'd never dare to in real life. I mean, the digital disconnect led to plenty of...issues...back in the day, even when fandom and fanfic weren't as bifurcated as right now.

Anyway, I think this is all swirling together...and like, it's not great! (Haha this is like how I ended the article. "This sucks! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯") But thanks again for your message—this topic has so many interesting, if depressing, facets!!

[moralesmilesanhour]

looking the part

description: a college AU one-shot wherein Ekko watches you get ready for an end-of-semester celebration with some of Piltover's finest. wc: 572 tags: canon divergent-ish, ekko x black!reader a/n: wanted to try my hand at writing for Arcane characters :) the original rough draft was twice as long as what you see here lol

A calm quiet settled over your small single room.

Ekko watched idly as you attempted to wind your braids around your head in a large, elaborate bun. Still barefoot, you were half-dressed in a smart-looking white blouse (complete with a golden brooch that had moving mechanical wings), and a long black skirt that revealed your brown legs through two high slits.

��You look like Medarda,” he commented from his spot on your bed, chin resting in his palm. He had no plans tonight that did not include a long nap, and was appropriately dressed for the occasion in a white tank top and gray sweats.

The bun seemed to remain stable as you slowly removed your hands. You grinned into the dirty dorm room mirror at your triumph.

“That's the idea.”

“You want to look like a topside politician?”

The bun quickly collapsed when you whipped around to face him. He had that ‘be serious’ look on his face, a dark brow lifted in skepticism.

You crossed your arms.

“Ekko, don't start. It's just an end-of-semester party, and I'd like to look the part. That's all it is!”

Ekko put his free hand up in surrender.

“I'm just saying, I don't see the point in spending your whole night schmoozing when you’dve already got Viktor vouching for you.”

The space beside him sank a bit once you joined him on the mattress, and he sat up to accommodate. You stuck out your lips in a pout.

“Says the guy who scored an internship with Heimerdinger.”

Ekko retorted without missing a beat, “And do you see me copying his drip?”

The image of Ekko dressed head-to-toe in Piltie jewelry and double-breasted vests made you giggle.

“Never in a million years.”

“Exactly.”

“But that's not the same thing!” You pushed him by the shoulder, “I just think her hair's cute.”

He reached over to push a stray braid out of your face, the tips of his calloused fingers brushing your cheek as he did so. You watched him watch you, intently.

His clear brown eyes sparkled where the low desk light hit them, the same way they did the day you first met at one of Heimerdinger’s guest lectures. Ekko had raised his hand—the only one to do so—and asked some out-of-left-field questions about whether Hextech was especially vulnerable to ‘bad actors’ under council jurisdiction and whatnot.

Expecting him to struggle to be heard in that giant lecture hall, the ring of his voice cutting through the air, uninhibited and impolite, sent a shock through your system. It also sent the professor on a very long tangent on the dangers of the Arcane when left in the wrong hands, and you could've sworn you heard a snicker or two coming from Ekko’s direction when he had to be interrupted because class time had all but run out.

You stopped him before class ended, and awkwardly asked him if he had really bleached his hair to be that stark white color. He laughed, and invited you to lunch not long after.

“I could do you one better,” he suggested, snapping you out of your thoughts. He made a circular gesture around his head. “How ‘bout a crown?”

“Hm,” you pretended to think, though you were already moving to settle yourself in between his knees. “Do I get to borrow your earrings? Y’know, complete the look.”

A long sigh.

“Alright, but you better not lose ‘em.”

-

Hi! Thank you for making it this far. Pls feel free to reblog and leave feedback in replies/tags, and check out my pinned post if you're curious about me or other stuff I've written :) Have a nice day/night

[hgeeky]

My year in books 2024 - book series

Over the year I managed to read 140 books (including audiobooks), not including the 4 I started and still have on the go, and 3 that I started and abandoned.

I read quite a few series, here are some thoughts on those (spoiler free). I'll probably follow up with another post or two for other fiction and non-fiction.

Rivers of London by Ben Aaranovitch

I've now read all 9 of the main novels (although I read the first two in 2023), plus Tales from the Folly and What Abigail Did That Summer, all as audiobooks.

Kobna Hollbrook-Smith is an incredible narrator

I absolutely adore the blend of magic, folklore and police bureaucracy. The acronyms and procedure are set out in a way that feels so true to life - with all the quirks that come with how these things translate into practice. And it makes the magic somehow more believable. Plus the characters are so often charming.

I'm looking forward to working my way through the novellas and graphic novels while I wait for the next instalment.

The Aubreyad/Aubrey-Maturin series by Patrick O'Brian

I managed all 20 of the completed novels, my first complete circumnavigation (at some point I'll try to get my hands on the unfinished 21st book)

This is very much thanks to @elodieunderglass posting about it here, which encouraged me to seek out the audiobooks (my library has the Ric Jerrom ones)

I had attempted Master & Commander once, many years ago, because a lot of my family like the books. My grandfather especially liked them, and I wish I had known him better (he died in 2000). But I couldn't cope with the naval jargon at the time and gave up.

I did enjoy the film, and I've enjoyed Hornblower on TV and the Sharpe books, so I do generally enjoy that sort of thing and the audiobooks turned out to be perfect for me.

Ric Jerrom does a wonderful job with the characters and I could let a lot of the naval jargon wash over me (occasionally I did look things up to try to get a better handle on things).

Jack and Stephen are now my blorbos for sure.

And I absoutely love how much O'Brian managed to fit into these books - the natural history, the mores of the time, even the politics, as well as the action, adventure and romance.

The Thursday Murder Club by Richard Osman

I find these books rather moving, as well as fun

The combination works wonderfully for perking me up, helping me embrace life and find the joy in it, and that's always worth something

In fact it's remarkably impressive

The blend of characters is wonderful, the range of perspectives and personalities really helps me look at the world afresh, and not take things for granted so much.

Jackson Brodie by Kate Atkinson

I read the first one in 2023, and 2-5 in 2024

I've long adored Kate Atkinson's books, and I've read at least two of the Jackson Brodie books before (1 and 4) but thought I'd give the whole series a go

Perhaps not entirely as successful as some of her other books, I did still enjoy them all. I think Big Sky (number 5) was my favourite.

Phryne Fisher by Kerry Greenwood

I really enjoyed the TV adaptation a few years ago so I thought I'd give the audiobooks a go when I saw that my library has them

They are light and easy-going, with grate narration by Stephanie Daniel

I read the first one last year, and got through 2-8 this year. I particularly enjoyed 3 (Muder on the Ballarat Train), 4 (Death at Victoria Dock), 5 (The Green Mil Murder) and 8 (Urn Burial). I didn't mind a bit that I could remember some of the plots from the TV show.

The Locked Tomb by Tamsyn Muir

I gave Gideon the Ninth a go after seeing a lot of posts about it on here, and finding I could get it through Audible plus (which I get occasionally when I can get a discount)

It was an absolute headfuck of a fever dream for most of it and I loved it

Eventually I used some credits to get Harrow and Nona and loved them too. Harrow was also a headfuck but I think I'd got slightly more into the swing of things for Nona.

I went back to relisten to Gideon to see what I made of it, after having more context and it was good in a different way. I enjoyed having more things make sense and I appreciated many of the characters a lot more.

The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings by JRR Tolkein

When I found out my library had the audiobooks read by Andy Serkis, I thought it would be rude not to borrow them

I enjoyed The Hobbit the most.

I found Return of the King a bit of a slog. It all felt too ponderous when it was focused on humans, elves or dwarves, but fortunately the hobbits, ents and orcs gave it a lot more life and helped get me through.

Edit: Oops I forgot The World of the White Rat!

World of the White Rat - T Kingfisher

I didn't start at the beginning and I've not read everything

I gave the books a go thanks to Audible Plus and now I'm in love with them

Swordheart is my favourite, I've now listened to it twice

I've also covered the first 3 Saint of Steel books and have number 4 ready and waiting

I've also listened to quite a few other T Kingfisher books which aren't in the same world (or at least, not obviously) and loved those too - more on those in a separate post (if I manage it)

[poisonedspider]

Still got a few hours till the New Year over here, but figured I'd post it now - especially since half my friends are already in bed.

I'm really bad at sappy posts like this (ironically considering I make these posts randomly all the time). I mostly feel like there isn't something I can say that I haven't already. I'm not going to list a bunch of names or else I'd be here all night, but if you're reading this, just know that you matter.

I never thought we'd be here when I made this blog back in April, and if I'm being honest? I'm disappointed it took me that long. As most of you know, I had an Angel blog back in 2019, but mostly saw other Angels and Alastors so I gave up fairly quickly. In February, on my other blog, I was like....should I make an Angel blog? Is it going to be the same, even though Hazbin is big now? Will I delete it in a month like I do all my new blogs?

And I'm so glad that I didn't. This year has been, no joke, the best year of my life in any fandom. I've had severe roleplay trauma (some of you were there with me haaaa), so I get a lot of emotions. I break down a lot. I admittedly have panic attacks when I see people have blocked me without me knowing the reason (hey, I'm working on that). In a fandom like HelluvaHazbin, it can be challenging to not be worried. After all....there's a lot of dark topics...which could mean a lot of purity culture coming on the attack.

But I have never seen that here. Maybe it's because we are all some levels of fucked up, but this has been the healthiest and most supportive fandom I've ever seen. People let people do their extreme shit and move along, and that is...so refreshing? It's actually a safe place to explore. To write without being monitored. With the direction the world is going in a lot of ways, I never thought I'd find that.

I have never felt as strongly connected to a fandom to consider you all my found family. Guess it's kind of like how Angel felt when he first came to the hotel. Like sure, why not, let's try this out. To suddenly being all in, completely deep, loving every single one of you. Being vulnerable with all of you. Wanting to protect all of you at all costs.

I have 446 of you, and I don't know all of you on a personal level, but that doesn't mean I don't see you. That I don't admire you. That I don't want to be writing with you (please don't be strangers!) Every single one of you brings something to the table, and I love that. This is also the first time I have not been terrified by duplicates (well....mostly...it's a slow and steady race). Because every person's portrayal is so different and unique? Like?

To all of you that I write with, you have changed my life more than you know. The amount of times I'll be talking to my irl friends and be like "blah blah *drops a url* blah blah" or "Oh my gosh my Husk said this, my Pentious said this" and they're like...Strode is un poco loco but oh well. I have never felt happier than I do creating storylines with all of you. Exploring all different elements of these characters and their relationships.

I know I can be a lot. I know sometimes I spiral and post endlessly OOC, but that's because I feel safe here. And that's because you all have allowed this to be a safe space. I know I horny post consistently but - it's Angel, you know? And I don't have to worry about getting anon hate because of it. I can do what I want to, how I want to, and have nothing but cheerleaders. And that's so amazing. To feel safe out of character too is something I haven't had since the early days of roleplay when I used MSN Messenger (yes, I'm OLD).

So thank you. Every single one of you. I can't wait to make more with you in 2025. To continue these stories. For years to come, ideally, since we'll be waiting that fucking long for all these officially announced seasons - ha! I'm not going anywhere. And I know you all come and go, people delete blogs or switch fandoms or lose the hyperfixations, but whether you're here for a month or ten years, just know that you are loved. You are special. And I hope that 2025 brings you all the grace, peace, comfort, and joy that you deserve.

Thanks from me and one incredibly slutty spider. xoxo

[pinkcelestialstar]

Hello, this is my first time posting here(I'm still trying to navigate through this app T-T)

☆ upgrade to girlfriend♡ ☆

Warnings: none, this is just a lame fluff

**reader's POV**

It was a rainy day, and all I wanted to do was cuddle and rest. Speaking of cuddles, there was only one person I could rely on: Bada Lee, my best friend. I texted her, "Is my wife free? I want cuddles, hehe." I hit send, and not even a minute later, the front door opened. It was Bada; I had given her my spare key.

"Wow, how did you get here so fast?" I asked as I peeked from the couch where I was lounging in front of the fireplace. I watched her remove her jacket and set the umbrella aside. "I was on my way sensing my best friend's need, and then I got a text from her," she replies. "So you sensed it before I even texted?" I ask blinking. She chuckles and Shrugs, Walks to the couch and just Throws herself on top of me. "Hey! Ah! Woman, you're crushing me!" She Giggles at my whines and shifts so that I am between her and the backrest, holding me against her chest.

I Giggle and snuggle back into her embrace. "So what was my wife doing before she got here?" I ask teasingly. She chuckles and says, "Well, someone had asked me to help- wait, no, not help, to do their entire project for them, so I just finished it and came to meet that person who made me work." I Giggle at her direct accusation.

I shift in her arms so I'm facing her, properly. "Thank you~ you're the besttttt~" I peck her nose. She laughs, "Is that all I get? A kiss on the nose" I pout, "What else do you want?" I ask confused. She smirks and leans in closer to me, our faces mere inches apart. Her voice is low and playful as she answers your question.

"Oh, I can think of a few other places I'd like you to kiss". I Narrow my eyes looking at her. She chuckles at my reaction, knowing exactly what I'm thinking. She lifts her hand to my face, my fingers gently tracing along the curve of my jawline.

"Come on, don't look at me like that. You know exactly what I want." I roll my eyes and say, "Sorry, your best friend's subscription pack doesn't cover those services. You would need an upgraded subscription pack for that," imitating a robotic voice. She bursts out laughing, amused by my imitation of a robotic voice.

"Oh, so I have to upgrade to the girlfriend package to get those services, huh? I see how it is.", she feigns disappointment, pouting dramatically as she pretends to reach into her pocket. "Alright, how much is the upgrade, then? I'll pay any price for that service package."

"It seems like that will require a bit of loyalty, affection, and attention. The perks you'll gain include all the experiences a couple shares, along with the exclusive title of girlfriend." I say this in the same mechanical tone.

She laughs, "Loyalty, affection, and attention, is that really all it requires? I can certainly deliver on that front. Plus, the title of girlfriend sounds pretty appealing."

She takes a brief pause, feigning deep thought."Okay, you've swayed me. I'm ready for the upgrade. Where do I go to make it official?". I gasped and blinked thinking we were just messing around but-

My jaw drops, and she can't hold back the laughter. She reaches over and gives my nose a playful poke.

"Oh, come on! You didn't expect me to agree that easily, huh? You don't know how much I crave that exclusive title." my mouth was agape like a fish out of water, my eyes wide and blinking in disbelief.

She leans in closer to me, her voice lowering to a sultry whisper."And all the other perks that come with it, of course. I want whatever you're willing to offer, as my best friend and my girlfriend."

I blush furiously, Struggling to maintain composure, I respond in a stiff, mechanical tone again, "Alright, we'll move forward with the payment. You'll be making payments in installments, and if you stop paying, the services will be halted."

She goes along with it, keeping a straight face and nodding in affirmation.

"Got it. I'll be making payments in parts, and I'll make sure to keep delivering the essential services to uphold the premium status of being your girlfriend."

I replied in that same mechanical voice, but oh my goodness, my stomach was just a flurry of butterflies! "package upgraded. Please seal it with a kiss to activate your girlfriend package"

I saw her smirk, but she played along with it; she leaned in closer to me, her hand gently cupping my chin as she looked into my eyes. Omg! This is really happening!

"Alright, let's activate this package then." She said before she closed the distance between us, capturing my lips in a soft and tender kiss.

As our lips meet, I feel a rush of warmth and excitement flood my body. I hold the kiss for a moment, savoring the feeling of her lips against mine before slowly pulling back. She gazes into my eyes, that smug little smile playing on her lips, while my mind is spiraling and my stomach keeps churning. I felt like I was about to explode.

"There, the package is activated. Consider it sealed, girlfriend." She said as I kept blinking still trying to process what just happened. She brought me back from the daze with a peck on my lips, and that was all it took; I started blushing furiously, and I covered my face with my hands while she just laughed at me. "Stop laughing!!" I say to which she just laughed more.

"Aww, look at my girlfriend blushing over something so simple! Just wait until she sees what I have planned next-" Her hand was wandering down from my stomach, but before she could make another move, I tumbled her off the couch. She hit the floor, still giggling.

OK, I know this was lame, but I'm just getting started guys

[lottesreads]

Why Me? - Part 13

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Mitchell! Female Reader (Callsign Mantis)

Warnings: Forbidden relationship, some angst, some fluff, lying, allusions of abuse, swearing, mentions of sleeping in a car

Word Count: 5500

Summary: The aftermath of what you've done hits you like a truck. Bob is just as blindsided by what you told him, and it's time the two of you have a real honest talk.

A/N: Hello everyone!! I can't believe my last post was in September, it makes me so sad. Anyway, I've been having the worst writers block as well as dealing with work and school, it's been so great. I thought I'd give you a shorter chapter to hold you over, and just thank all of you for sticking around. Enjoy, and happy reading!!

Masterlist

The steadying rhythm of your breathing is what lulled Bob to sleep. A sleep he might add where he didn’t dream. There were no visions of you pulling him closer, or kissing his cheek, his face, his hands. There wasn’t a part of him wondering what it would be like because that’s exactly what he fell asleep to. He’s already living it. For last night at least.

A whine from the side of his bed is what finally wakes him from his dreamless state. He goes to move his head toward the noise, but is swiftly deterred as you stir in his arms. A shift in the night must have caused you to fully wrap yourself around him. Nuzzling your face in the crook of his neck, he tries not to shiver at your breath against his skin. He doesn’t think it’s real until he rubs your shoulder through the t-shirt he gave you last night. Your arm tightens around his stomach and for a second he thinks you’re waking up. Until you release another deep breath and he knows this is real. You’re really here.

Sylvia pulls at the side of his sheets with another whine. Glancing over at her, she sits patiently with her head tilted in his direction. Without another look, she walks over to the door, staring at it as if she’s willing it to open on its own. Bob wouldn’t be surprised if the one dog he adopted from the shelter had crazy telekinetic powers, especially this little weirdo. But that’s why he loves her.

With a silenced groan, he lets his head fall back just to take in this moment for one second longer. His hand runs across the smooth skin of your arm around his midsection as he breathes you in. You’re so warm and soft and he doesn’t want to get up. But he doesn’t want to be cleaning up pee at- he slowly picks up his phone from his side table- 7:00 a.m.

Ever so gently he untucks your face from his shoulder, resting your head on his pillow while your arm drapes over the unkempt sheets on his side. He watches you for a second, his hands outstretched over you as if he could keep you from waking if he held still for a moment longer. Without even a wiggle of your fingers, he follows Sylvia to the door, releasing her from the confines of the room as she rushes down the stairs and straight to the back door.

The rain has slowed to a small drizzle, clouds still clogging the sky. A rush of cold air flows into the house as Sylvia runs to the yard. He can’t help the goosebumps that crawl up his arms as he closes the door behind him. Even living this close to the ocean, the rain dampened breeze still remains the cleanest air he’s ever been able to breathe. It reminds him of you.

Not just because he held you close all night, breathing in the scent of rain from your skin and hair. But also because he can really, truly just breathe around you. Especially when he’s not trying to pretend around other people.

He takes in another deep breath before Sylvia’s done and running to the door to go back inside. Her paws pad to the kitchen as she stands in front of her bowl. Just staring.

“Oh, I guess you’re hungry now, too?”, he whispers. He laughs as she tilts her head. He fills her bowl with food, slightly cringing at the echo of it hitting the metal. Last he left you, you were in a pretty deep sleep. He’s only hoping this wasn’t the thing to wake you. The way you didn’t even flinch when he left your side. He didn’t even think it was possible for you to embed yourself even further into his brain until last night. He only hopes you don’t regret it when you wake up. Even if you do, he’s not going to force you into something you don’t want to be a part of. But god, does he want to go all in with you. What that looks like he’s not sure. All he knows is that breathing is easier when you’re with him. And he’ll take anything you’re willing to give him.

Rubbing his hands down his face, Bob walks to the bathroom. Everything’s a little blurry without his glasses, but just walking around his house is something he can manage. After washing his hands, he splashes cold water on his face. Just to make sure he really wasn’t dreaming. And as if the universe had the answer for him, he spots your clothes hanging over the shower curtain in the mirror. Not just your clothes. Your bra and underwear. Which means the only thing you’re wearing right now are his clothes.

Good lord, he needs to get a grip. Being the gentleman his mama raised him to be, he rids himself of the impulsive thought to look over your… intimates, while folding them up in your wet clothes and taking them to the dryer.

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

Oh dear god everything smells like him. Wiping the sleep from your eyes you notice the clothes you’re wearing. Even you smell like him. Wait. Where even is he? It isn’t until you hear the patter of Sylvia’s paws coming from downstairs that you take in a breath of relief. Why you were so worried he would have left his own house you don’t know. But you take a calming breath and steady yourself before taking a look at Bob’s room in the light of day. Or rather the muffled light from behind the clouds outside. There’s a couple scattered pieces of clothing, not any different from any other person. He’s still much tidier than yourself. Your eyes catch on his glasses, simply sitting on his nightstand. You smile at the sight. Just staring at them makes you feel like he’s close.

The sound of something sizzling in a frying pan and the scent of cinnamon and sugar welcomes you as you descend the stairs. Bob’s back is to you as he faces the stove, humming a song you can’t decipher. You watch while he flips whatever he’s cooking. His forearms flex as he lifts the pan, until you’re staring at his chest while he turns around to place what looks like french toast on a plate.

“That smells really good”, you compliment him as he flinches.

“Holy mother-”, he exclaims, attempting not to drop the pan. His eyes grow comically wide as you try to hide your laughter.

“Sorry”, you chuckle.

“No, it’s ok. I just didn’t see you there”, he smiles as he squints in your direction. And you’re reminded of what you swiped from his side of the bed.

“Well how could you? You’re not wearing these”, you ask as you lift his glasses in your hand.

“I’m not completely blind, ya know?”, he defends. He still extends his hand as you pad across the kitchen, giving his glasses to him. His eyes adjust as he puts them on. He immediately looks at you and you grant him a small smile. He gives one right back.

“Hi”, you whisper.

“Hi”, he whispers back. Clearing his throat he motions to the plate of french toast on the counter. “Made some breakfast if you’re hungry.”

“Starving”, you say, pouring syrup all over your helping. “It just so happens that french toast is my favorite.”

“I thought it might be”, he says while plating up his own. You furrow your brow as he sits next to you.

“Why’d you think that?”

“It’s what you ordered when we went to brunch with Phoenix and Rachel”, he responds so casually while he takes a bite. You can’t help but stop and stare at him.

“What?”, he asks, swallowing a mouth full of french toast.

“You remember that?”

“Yeah”, he shrugs. Smiling down at your plate, you take a bite and melt at the cinnamon mapley goodness.

“Bob”, you can’t help but moan, “This is so good.”

“Glad to hear it”, he smiles as he takes another bite. The two of you continue to eat your breakfast under the light patter of rain.

“Is this something you make often?”, you ask in between taking bites of this moan-worthy breakfast.

“Um”, he laughs, “Sometimes. It’s my grandma’s recipe and I try to leave it to the master. Although she hasn’t made it for me since I last slept over. Which was-”, he huffs out a breath trying to find the memory.

“You’re telling me you didn’t have a sleepover at your grandma’s last time you were on leave?”

“Oh yeah, everytime I have leave I’m headed straight to Gammy’s for a sleepover”, he laughs. “But her french toast was always my grandpa’s favorite.”

“Is this your grandpa with the penny?”

“Yeah”, he laughs, “That’s Pappy Floyd for ya.” The two of you continue to eat your breakfast as the rain settles as the perfect backdrop for this lazy morning. When you’re finished you immediately start tending to the dishes in the sink.

“Hey-”, you cut Bob off before he has the chance to protest.

“Floyd, don’t even try to stop me from taking care of a few dishes after you just made me breakfast”, you scold him with a soapy hand. He surrenders with his hands in the air, but soon follows you to rinse and dry what you’ve scrubbed.

It’s quiet. Calm. This feels normal, which in turn makes you feel odd in your chest. His shoulder brushes yours every once in a while and the odd feeling appears in bursts with it. You could see yourself standing next to this man doing dishes for the rest of your- Whoa.

Ok, one dish at a time here. You still haven’t even talked about last night. And it’s creating this itch under your skin. One that you know you have to scratch, but you don’t want him to look at you while you do it. 

Unsure of what to do after finishing the last dish, you stare out the window in front of you. It’s stormy outside, clouds covering the once blue and sunny San Diego sky. It’s not unwelcome as the winds calm, just different.

Bob places the last dish to dry and watches as you tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear. It reveals the bruise he couldn’t tear his eyes away from last night, and it makes him feel protective again. Like for some reason he should have been there to stop it from happening. Even if it was an accident. He doesn’t want you to hurt. And most of all he doesn’t want to be the one to hurt you. If he goes along with what he thinks you want to do, he is risking your entire career. But if he doesn’t? He’ll miss out on the best thing he thinks will ever happen to him. You.

“Hey”, he grabs your attention, breaking the silence. “We should talk.” You nod solemnly, the domestic morning forgotten as he leads you to sit on the couch again. You knew this was coming. Ok, you don’t know exactly what’s coming, but you try your best to quiet that voice in the back of your head telling you the worst outcomes. You try to ignore it, but as Bob sits in front of you and his mouth starts moving you realize you aren’t paying attention to him at all.

“I’m sorry-”, you shake your head, “What did you say?” His mouth twitches in the corner before he repeats himself.

“Are you feeling ok?”

“Yeah”, you nod to convince yourself you’re doing alright. “Definitely feeling ok. Just a little embarrassed.”

“About what?”, he asks as you look anywhere but at him.

“I don’t know, just showing up completely unannounced last night. And dumping all my thoughts onto you. And now I feel… stupid.” Playing with a thread on the couch cushion, you mumble the last part.

“That’s not stupid. I actually think it’s very brave. The driving through a storm part though, that was stupid.” You breathe a laugh out through your nose as he smiles.

“I know. I just- I had to talk to you. And now… Before you say anything,  just know that I don’t ever want to put you in a position to make you do something you don’t want to. But the way I see it, we both know how we feel, now we just have to decide if we want to do something about it.” He chews on his lip while he reaches for your hand.

“Mantis, you mean a great deal to me-”, here it comes. The other shoe is about to drop, and you tell yourself you knew it was too good to be true the entire time. “I just don’t want you to go through with this and regret it.” Regret me, he means.

“Bob”, you try to find the words, “Every regret I have is not doing something. I’m not going to let this slip away from us.” He holds your gaze in silence. “Not if we both feel like this is something worth exploring.”

“I think this is very worth exploring.” That funny feeling crawls from your stomach to your throat. The good kind that turns sour once you realize what it means you’ll have to do to carry this through.

“If we do this, no one can know.” The conversation takes a solemn turn as your hard gaze bores into him. He hangs on to your every word, making sure he doesn’t miss anything. “Not Phoenix, Fanboy, or anyone from work. Not even our families.”

“And if you change your mind? If you-”, get sick of me, realize I’m not actually what you want, “Realize it’s not worth the risk?” He asks with a grimace. You squeeze his hand with a reassuring tenderness, hearing his unspoken thoughts.

“Let’s make a rule right now: No more lying to each other. We can have complete and open communication, so long as no one else knows about what we have going on, ok?” He nods and squeezes your hand. You pause and take a deep breath in before rubbing your thumb over his knuckles. “And if either of us want out of this for whatever reason, we have to walk away. So long as the reason isn’t for the other person. No self sacrificing on the other person’s account. It’s fine if we think it’s too risky for ourselves, but we both get to decide where that point is.”

“Ok”, his soft voice washes over you. This is really happening. Oh god. This is really happening. Your heart wants to float out of your body, but you know the secrecy that comes with it. Your heart beating is trying to override the doubts clouding your mind and- You’ve never felt this way about someone before and Bob is just… perfect. This has to work.

“So what now?”, his question breaks you out of your train of thought.

“I don’t know”, you laugh and shake your head, “I didn’t think this far ahead.”

“Oh, you mean when you were driving and running though a hurricane?”

“I mean, yes?”

“Yeah, just- don’t do that again”, he tries to jokingly reprimand you. The grip of his hand tells you he’s really not laughing.

“I’ll try not to”, you respond behind a small smirk. He meets your gaze and you almost want to hide. It’s one thing confessing your feelings to him under the influence of adrenaline, it’s another having him just look at you. You’ve never felt so naked before under someone’s eyes. He clears his throat before looking back down at your joined hands.

“I’m a little rusty, but I think what happens now is that I take you out.” You can’t help the blush that rises from your neck to your cheeks. You don’t even remember the last time someone asked you out, let alone someone you really liked.

“Are you asking me on a date, Floyd?”, you ask under an involuntary smirk. He tries to hide his smile underneath the nodding of his head, but it’s no use. You tilt your head to get a better look at his child-like grin before he looks up.

“I think I am, Mitchell.” There’s a whisper of doubt still lingering in your head, much like the fog outside. He must see your smile drop slightly as you wonder aloud.

“Are you sure?” He turns his hand over so he’s holding yours now, and he squeezes as he pulls to make sure you’re listening.

“I wanna do this right, so if you’ll have me I’d really like to take you out. And- I know we’ll have to be careful.. But I’ll take anything you’re willing to give me.” You would give him the world if you could. Wrap it up in a nice bow and place it in his hands, but you know what he means. There are going to be limits to how this thing between the two of you plays out.

“Ok”, you whisper.

“Yeah?”, he asks, almost in disbelief. Like you weren’t practically begging him to do something just moments ago.

“Yeah”, you smile, “Let’s go on a date.” And then there’s a moment. Another moment where it’s only the two of you, nothing else exists except for you and Bob. You can’t help it as your eyes drift to where Bob’s teeth pull at his bottom lip out of nerves. It makes you feel bad for doubting him at all, but you would do anything right now to tear his lip from his own torture. Maybe provide some relief of your own. But no- you have to take this slow. Do this right. Like Bob said. It still doesn’t stop the pull you feel for him, though.

But as if the universe wasn’t cruel enough, the buzz of your phone from the coffee table rouses you from this moment.

“Oh shit”, you mumble as your dad’s name pops up on the screen. “Umm”, you stall as you try not to panic. Bob’s eyes are already wide as they switch between the phone in your hand and your face. “Don’t make a sound. Ok”, you say with a breath. Braving the unknown you tap the answer button.

“Hey Dad, what’s up?”, you ask as if nothing’s out of the ordinary.

“Hey!”, he responds, and you immediately know he has no clue you left. If he did, he would have started this phone call in a much less cheery mood. “Good to know you survived the storm”, he laughs in relief.

“Yeah”, you respond, if only he knew. “Same to you.”

“Listen, it’s still a bit wet out there but it’s slowing down. So as soon as it stops enough for me to get my bike outta here, I’ll head over.” As your father’s speaking, Bob eyes Sylvia out of the corner of his eye, huffing at her lack of attention. He eyes her as a warning, and knowing he’s all talk, she huffs her first bark. You cough in hopes to cover the noise.

“Sorry”, you apologize through another fake cough, “So when do you think that will be?” You watch as Bob chases Sylvia to the back door, herding her outside for the moment.

“Well, my phone is telling me it’s not raining right now but-”, he grunts and you know he’s moving to look out the window, “It’s still going over here at Penny’s. By my guess, I’d say it’ll slow down in an hour, and I’ll be home by then.” Your gaze moves from the window back to where Bob is standing at the back door, waiting for you to be done to let Sylvia back in. Your stomach turns sour when you realize your time with Bob this morning will be cut short.

“Ok, sounds good. I’ll see you then!”, you reply in a happier tone than you’re feeling.

“Alright, see you soon kiddo”, you can still hear him breathing when you tap the red button. He’s always waited until you hang up first, something he’s done since you were a kid. It was either that or the line would get cut short from him running out of time on the carrier. Even then you’d both talk until it stopped. There were the few odd times he’d ask to talk to your mom, and sometimes you downright refused. It was your time with your dad, not hers.

Sylvia’s paws tap on the hardwood as she walks with Bob in tow back to the couch. You scratch her ears as Bob sits again, waiting to hear the verdict of the call.

“My dad’s going to be home soon”, you say as you watch Sylvia wander off. Bob nods, a furrow appearing in his brow as he thinks.

“How soon?”

“Said in the next hour”, you whisper as you lean your side into the couch cushions, getting a better look at Bob’s face. “I should leave before he gets back.”

“What about your car?”. Shit. You completely forgot about your stupid (up until now, loyal) car. Attempting to run both hands down your face in frustration, you stop immediately on your right side as you’re so pleasantly reminded of the bruise painting your cheek. As you flinch, Bob’s hand comes to hold your hurting side, delicately brushing his thumb just below the discoloration.

You can’t help but lean into the touch, your eyes following his arm up to his face where you melt just a little more at his slight frown. You both don’t want for you to leave. But if you keep going with this, even after your date, this is how it’s going to be. Lying, keeping secrets. It’s nothing you haven’t done before, but you feel bad implicating Bob in your transgressions. Even now you don’t want to leave the bubble in his living room.

“This is going to be hard”, you whisper in warning as you hold his hand to your cheek. His frown ticks downward just a smidge as he stares back at you.

“I know”, he sighs, “But it’ll be worth it.” This gets you to smile, and in turn Bob mirrors your expression.

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

Sometime while you were still sleeping, Bob had so thoughtfully placed your clothes in the dryer. You try to ignore the fact that he handled your bra and underwear, but all it does is make you laugh internally at the thought. You’re so sure he must have blushed when he realized your clothes were hanging in his bathroom.

You’re both quiet as he leads you to his familiar truck in the garage. But you’re not shying away from him either. The realization of what you have both decided to do is setting in and it’s…exciting. Well, exciting and scary. No different than the feelings you’ve had before. But it’s easier knowing you’re not alone. Especially as the man in reference opens your door before stepping in on his own side.

He gives you a brief smile before taking a deep breath. You do the same as the garage door opens. The sky is clearing and he lets the light come in. Once safely backed out, he takes your hand from its spot in your lap like he’s done it a million times before. And truly, it felt like he had. That smile however is wiped from your face as you round the street and find your car- crushed completely under a toppled over palm tree. Whoever said it never rains in southern California is a fucking liar.

Bob pulls off to the opposite side of the road as the two of you stare in shocked silence. The roof of your car is completely sunken in as the palm leaves sway with the now gentle winds. And all you can do is laugh. Bob looks at you with a raise of his brow, still a very concerned look in his eye.

“Ok, so… I definitely didn’t think the weather was that bad when I was driving last night”, you chortle.

“What-”, he asks now wildly gesturing back to your broken car, “How is this funny?! That could have been you!”

“Ok”, you respond, now without much mirth, “Bob, I am fine. I wasn’t in the car when it fell!” He goes to say something else, but you stop him before he can. “And I wouldn’t be dumb enough to stay in my parked car in the middle of a storm.”

“No, but you did drive and run through one”, he mutters, almost afraid to hear your response. He looks back at the car through a grimace and you know his mind is going to places it shouldn’t. He’s worried, that’s all. “Just- don’t do that again”, he repeats his sentiment from before. You move back to take his hand and give him a gentle squeeze.

“I’ll try not to, I promise.”

Bob so graciously (doesn’t let you leave the truck) offers to inspect your car while you call your insurance company and a tow truck. There’s no missing calls or texts from your dad while you and Bob talk to the tow truck driver, and you frown as your baby is hauled away. No matter what happened in the past ten or so years, that car was always there for you. It housed you, kept you safe, and was a warm place to sleep when you needed it. And now? It was a landing pad for a palm tree.

Your Toyota is carried off into the distance, and you’re taken out of your memories by Bob’s hand over your lower back.

“You ok?”

“Yeah”, you huff, “We should get going.”

Bob finds your hand again in the cab of his truck, and you hold onto it tight. It brings you back to the present and keeps you grounded. Something you’re having a hard time doing when you see your dad dismounting his bike in the open garage.

“Shit”, you whisper. Your dad’s still taking off his helmet he wears once in a blue moon, and you take one last look at Bob. You want nothing more than to keep holding his hand, but at the sight of your dad you loosen your grip and both your hands fall back. “Just agree to everything I say, ok?”

He nods as his breathing picks up and you’re hit with a sudden thought: Can Bob even lie? Guess you’ll find out soon enough.

The two of you hop out of the truck as your dad turns at the sound.

“Hey!”, he greets you with a twist in his features, “What uh- what’s going on? Where’d you go?” He questions as he greets you with a hug. Bob stands a distance away at the end of the driveway and your dad gives him a questioning glance. “Hey Bob…” He waves back with a forced smile. You quickly drag his attention back to you and place your hands on his shoulders.

“So- don’t freak out. But earlier Bob called and said his dog got out and asked if I could keep an eye out for her. Seeing as I wasn’t doing anything and everything had died down, I drove over to help him look for her-” His brows raise and you’re left wondering what his reaction would have been if you were telling him the truth. 

“We found her and everything’s fine. And I just want you to remember that I am completely fine…Great, even.” He lifts his brow asking you to continue, hoping it’s not as bad as you’re making it out to seem.

“My car died on the way over, and when we went back to jumpstart it…”, you pull your phone out and show him the pictures you took for the insurance company and he stops in his tracks. He almost scolds you as he releases your name in a breath. You give him a playful grimace as he looks over you in astonishment. Bob clears his throat from behind you as your dad continues to swipe through the pictures.

“Sir- I just want to say I did not ask her to come over, she did that of her own volition. But seeing as it’s my fault she was out in the first place, I am more than happy to give her rides to work while she doesn’t have a car. You know-”, he coughs again, “Since you usually have to stay later at work and…yeah”, he mutters in the end. Wow. Facing Bob, you give him the tiniest of smirks, impressed with his calmness. He tries to shake off his own smile while staring down at his shoes.

“I mean, that’s very nice of you, Bob”, your dad responds while rubbing a hand over his forehead. “But I think I should make her ride with me as punishment.”

“What?”, you whip your head around at your dad shaking his head. “Punishment? Might I remind you that I’m not some dumb teenager you can just ground whenever you want?”

“Yeah, well when you make decisions like a dumb teenager, that’s how you’re gonna get treated.” Your jaw drops at your dad’s stoic expression.

“Sir-”, Bob interrupts again, “I just- I feel responsible. She wouldn’t have been out there if it weren’t for me. Plus you are on my way to and from base. It’s no big deal, really.” Turning your head back to your father, you await his response. Wait, why are you even waiting for what he says? You’re a goddamn adult.

“Ok, I don’t need your permission. I pay my own bills and I refuse to be punished as a grown woman.” You turn back to Bob and decide to ignore your dad for the time being.

“I’ll see you Monday morning?”, you ask. Obviously not wanting to get in the middle of your argument he nods his head and you leave it at that. “Thanks again, Bob”.

“Anytime”, he responds and you see his lips twitch in the shadow of a smile. He shuts it down as he glances behind you to your dad, and you usher him inside as to let Bob leave in a quick getaway. Meaning, without an interrogation from your dad.

You huff as your dad closes the garage door behind you and you try to head to your room. Key word: try.

“Hey, I’m not done talking to you”, he barks to grab your attention. With a scoff you turn around at the bottom of the stairs. You’re reminded of how many times this has happened within the past few months. You were never yelled at or punished by him as a teenager, mostly because you did nothing to warrant that kind of action. But right now he’s making you feel like a child.

“What the hell were you thinking, huh?” You sigh as he places an exasperated hand on his hip.

“Couldn’t tell you if I’m being honest, but I am fine. I wasn’t even in my car when it happened.”

“Yeah, but you could have been.”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t. Why is this such a big deal?”

“It’s not-”, he cuts off his raised voice and takes in a breath, returning with a much softer version, “It’s not just your car. It’s that if we didn’t live under the same roof I wouldn’t even know about this.”

“That’s not true”, you argue while he gives you a pointed look. “Ok”, you relent, “maybe I wouldn’t have told you, but that’s only because I’m fine! When there’s something to worry about I’ll let you know.”

“That’s the thing”, he points at you, “You don’t though. You don’t tell me until it gets to a breaking point. Or you don’t even tell me at all.” Ouch. He raises his eyebrows as if saying ‘the truth hurts’. With a sigh, you give in.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. You of all people should know how hard it is to talk about your feelings, though.”

“I haven’t been very accessible in the past and I apologize for that. But we need to take advantage of the time we have now. I want you to come talk to me about anything. The good and the bad.”

“What, do you want like daily reports or something?”, you screw your brow up in confusion.

“No”, he laughs, “But I think we should have check-ins every once in a while. Every fortnight, how about that?”

“I think you’re the only person I know to use that word, but yeah. We can have fortnightly check-ins”, you smile.

“Fine, twice a month. Is that better?” He laughs with you, but you’re still reminded of the gravity of the conversation. You’ve been able to lie to your dad for the better part of- hell your whole life. But this thing with Bob is going to make things a little more complicated.

“In all seriousness I’m sorry for scaring you.” “I’m just glad you’re ok”, he crosses over and wraps his arms around you in a hug.

“I really am”, you sigh. “Bob made sure I was.”

Taglist:

@lemmons1998

@itsmytimetoodream

@theamuz

@harrysgothicbitch

@mygyn

@luckyladycreator2

@marve2014

@wretchedmo

@callsignwidow

@finnydraws

@melsunshine

@jostan456

@okiegirl24

@beebeechaos

@eclecticfashionbookszipper

@hunbomb

@nerdgirljen

@knight-of-the-doctor

@smoothdogsgirl

@planetaryempire-blog

@dumblani

[eleventhhourfactor]

First day of 2025 has been good so far. So good, in fact, that I've decided to actually make a self-reflection/look to the future post, as much as I'm trying not to be vain.

Anyway...2024. There was a lot happening there.

If we're looking at Tumblr alone, it's pretty clear that this was the year that solidified Mario and Luigi as a hyperfixation for me. Helped along by the mutuals I made along the way, I turned out a lot of stories for AO3--moreso than I'd ever done for any other fandom prior to this. It's...mindblowing, honestly. Just the year before, I'd written and deleted my works after becoming convinced that it wouldn't amount to anything and ought as well not be out there. It was a pattern I longed to break, and I think I've finally cracked it, and I've never been happier to put myself out there and be cringe and free.

The rest of 2024 was a hell of a lot of change for me--mostly good. I moved across the country, started writing for another company, found another special interest in the form of Mario RPGs. I also realized that a load of my extended family have garbage takes, and that I alone can't fix that for them. My cat needed teeth taken out, my car got hit by a delivery truck in the parking lot, and I got holed up at my in-laws' house with the flu on Christmas Day. I'm still trying to make real-life friends, which seems to be an outstanding issue for little ol' me. Outside of college, I've never been great at making and keeping friends.

But I do have my network, without which I wouldn't have been able to publish a story, plan a big move, or even doodle on occasion. And you, dear mutuals and others, are a part of that, I've come to realize. It's stupid and corny, but there's something really neat about going to the internet and nerding out about things through headcanon posts, fabulous art, and wonderfully-written tales. What's even crazier is what fanwork can drive me to do in my original little things.

So, for 2025, along with some outstanding fics I need to wrap up and work on, I also want to put some work and effort into fleshing out a long-running project of mine: the world of Astrara, the worldhoppers moving throughout, and the threads of the universe tying it all together. There's characters I've been bouncing around in my skull for nearly a decade now, and it's about time I clear the sad lack of confidence from my space and actually draw them to the life they deserve. Might I make a comic? Who knows. For the next year, I just want to draw my little dudes until I run out of pencils, and then scan it in and color digitally. I want to make more art, and I want to write out the story of Lenora, Aylín, and their absolutely batshit journey to find their way home. Or at least, get the bullet points down and go from there.

It's crazy, but I thought turning out over a dozen fanfics was insane as well, and look where I'm at. Anything can happen. The spark has caught aflame. I want to keep creating. For the first time ever, I want to keep going with whatever the heck I've got going instead of letting it sit while I grind to live.

So, follow me as I get this going. See how far I go or fall short. Maybe ask me some more about what exactly I'm working on. I'd love to brainstorm and share and get others interested, too.

A bit of insurance in the form of doodles. Lenora on the left, Aylín on the right. One's being careful, the other wants to fight.

Kinda funny how much I project onto my own little stories.

Thank you all for sticking with me. Sorry this turned from reflection to a bit of narcissist goal-setting, but I've never felt so set on a creative goal before. This project means a lot to me and my growth over time, and without stepping out and meeting you all, I'd never be able to do this. So, thank you for being there, and I hope I've been able to do half as much for you.

Under the cut special! Sending love to all the people who keep me going on here. Like, y'all are so great. You are all great people.

So, mutuals and creators I admire (as well as my frens), this one's for you:

@giddlygoat @peaches2217 @snakeeyesdraws @bberetd @itsavee4117 @silenzahra @silksongmaiden @fyreburning @akiiame-blog @megamagimugi @supergay-64 @artizonka @rainbogen @loud-kid2 @@diamondempp @dooxliss @lu1g199 @laatgag @moriouchou-radio @thegravityshark @gustygardns @vulpixfairy1985 @vbnhuet

[thetomorrowseries]

I don’t know quite where to begin when writing about John Marsden. I have read so many amazing things since his death this week. He touched SO MANY lives. He has left a legacy that is profoundly personal to so, so many. I realize in my middle age how incredible it is to have at least one person in your life that believes in you completely and utterly. Who values authenticity above all else. Who keeps you true to yourself. Who champions your strengths and celebrates your gifts and wins. Marsden was this to me. We have been friends since I was 11. I was a vomit covered, homesick little country bumpkin who he met off a plane and took under his wing. He was my English teacher in Grade 6, Year 9 and Year 12 at the three different campuses of the boarding school I went to. He became a friend of my parents, and stayed and farm sat when our family went overseas. We went to each other’s weddings. We wrote letters in the 90’s, I worked for him at his writing camps and even though we saw less of each other as he started his schools and our lives got busy elsewhere, we always kept in touch. Each time he wrote a book he would send me a copy fresh off the press. It was our secret that he based the character Ellie on me in the Tomorrow series, until the sixth book – where he outed me in the dedication. I was just a daggy but capable farm girl who fitted the part – but it is funny to see the horror and bewilderment in kids’ eyes when they find out that this (still daggy) 53 year old lady was the so called ‘inspiration’. He was a complex and brilliant character. Desperately shy but the warmest and most caring person one on one. He remembered every student he ever came across. He observed and took notes on everything and everyone and his notebooks were a thing of wonder. I hope they are somewhere safe. There is so much I want to say. I have been going through letters and old essays 🥹 I’ll miss Marsden every day. No more phone calls to discuss the problems of the world and each other. I was so lucky to know him as a teacher, mentor and friend. We were ALL so lucky – and will continue to be with the extraordinary legacy he has left behind. Thank you JM - so bloody much 💔

[tawnysoup]

Finally now that the comic is fully public on comicfury, I get to share it with all of you here, too <3

If you enjoyed, please consider supporting by buying a PDF of the comic on itch.io: https://tawnysoup.itch.io/home-in-the-woods

[seventh-district]

Sam: "Look at me. Hey- look at me a second. I know. I know you're tough. I know how strong you are. You have every right to be proud of that. But being able to handle somethin' doesn't mean you should have to. Least of all when I'm right here trying to help. Please let me help. If not for you then for me, because I don't like knowin' you're hurtin', especially when there's somethin' I can do about it."

Me, shaking my head, fighting back literal tears: "B-but it's gonna give you another headache!"

[ruvviks]

WELCOME TO BLIGHTWOOD CROSSING. DON'T LOOK BACK

taglist (opt in/out): @shellibisshe, @florbelles, @ncytiri, @hibernationsuit, @stars-of-the-heart, @vvanessaives, @katsigian, @radioactiveshitstorm, @estevnys, @adelaidedrubman, @celticwoman, @rindemption, @carlosoliveiraa, @noirapocalypto, @dickytwister, @dameaylin, @killerspinal, @euryalex, @ri-a-rose, @velocitic

[armed-saphire]

dipped my toes back into mgs for 2 minutes to watch the mgs3 remake trailer and the FIRST comment i saw on youtube was misogyny

[varjopeura]

.

[darkmagicmirror]

I could write an essay (literally) on why I think dark magic being inherently evil would be boring and uncreative and how I think that coming to a conclusion of "dark magic should never be done, ever, and should cease to happen" would be a huge waste of an opportunity to expand on the themes of healing from history by adjusting misunderstandings and moving forward with forgiveness and the openness to learn that things taught from a young age are not necessarily correct -- but do I really have the spoons for that?

[nikatyler]

Yesterday I fixed a very annoying issue in ts3 cas and I'm feeling like maybe just maybe I will actually play the game more again 😌

[sheyshen]

Something I want to build on with vincent at some point is how much the years of being an adventurer has taken a toll on him. he spent so long just being angry at the world but as he gets closer and closer to carteneau he does start recognizing how reckless he's been and the mistakes he's made over the years. friendships (especially with layla and nhea) helping him get a little closer to how he used to be before finally stopping and trying to do better for himself when he loses his leg. and the fact that guilt has really solidified in him to still make him push himself in his healing rather than combat (though sometimes still pushing himself too far) and how the years of treating himself like a weapon have taken a toll on his mind (he has terrible nightmares that only a select few have been able to help him through it)