#I have to remind myself of these things often too

[billybutcherrtrash]

Throne

CW: oral (f) and fingers

You and Spencer are friends who attended at party for a mutual friend and find you have an interesting shared book fantasy.

It had been several hours since you’d arrived at the party for a mutual friend. Reid had been cautiously watching you as you talked to everyone and gave them a small amount of your time. Every so often your gazes would meet and you’d exchange a smile from a distance. Although you’d greeted him when he walked in, you’d been rushed away my another friend for some kind of emergency. Every guy you talked to made Reid anxious. He hated the idea of you walking out of this place with someone else. Anyone else but him. Finally you made your way over to him, sitting down beside him and smiling.

“Welcome back”. Spencer said as you took a sip of your drink.

“Thanks. It’s been very hectic. You’d think for a going away party it would be more fun. Instead I’m chasing down my drunk friends.” You sighed.

“Yeah, I think I saw one of my drunk friends fall off the bar earlier.” He laughed.

“I saw that. I think we’re the only two here that aren’t drinking.”

“I like to be in control of myself. I drink occasionally but in this atmosphere I don’t think it’s wise.”

“I agree. To much going on and I’m already over stimulated”

“Glad I’m not the only one.” He nodded.

You tucked your hair behind your ears and shifted closer to him. “I’m really happy you came.”

Spencer’s eyes lit up, “I’m glad too. I’ll admit I was on the fence until I heard you’d be coming too.”

“Really?”

He nodded, “Yeah. This isn’t my thing. Bars. Or people.”

“I would much rather be at home reading. I hate all this.” You shrugged.

“Oh, that’s reminds me I started reading this book about ancient erotica and I think -“

At that you held up your hand to stop him,“Did you just say erotica?”

Spencer nodded, “Yeah, but not in the way you’re thinking of pornography. It’s rather tasteful compared to today’s idea of erotica. I’ve read a few of what is considered erotic today and I think it’s just porn on paper.”

You stared at him for a long moment. His brown eyes stared back anticipating your response.

“Porn on paper is called smut now.” You smirked.

“Yes, and it is just sexually charged writing. Ancient erotica is art. Paintings and images that are tastefully done.” Reid explained.

“I guess my bookshelf is filled with porn then.” You laughed softly.

“You read…smut?” He bit his lip.

Suddenly you felt hot. Did the temperature go up? You’d just admitted you had read spicy books.

“I-wel-…I mean…I have other kinds of books too.” You stammered. “I have biographies and nonfiction also. Fantasy.”

Spencer was enjoying watching you squirm. You were flustered now. He could see trying to save whatever semblance of a normal conversation there was left.

“Fantasy? What kind of fantasy?” He asked.

“No sexual fantasy…I have Fourth Wing. Have you read it?”

“Dragons and thunder…I have read it and its sequel.” Reid nodded. “But may I ask…how you felt about the throne scene?”

He was torturing you now. He watched as your eyes went wide and your breathing halted just enough to notice.

“I…uh…Spence…you’re doing this on purpose.” You said softly.

“Am I? I’m just curious.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Are you?”

“Very…” He nodded.

He watched you bite your lip. The conversation had taken a sharp turn and now you were staring at each other, both quiet. You wished you knew what he was thinking about.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Spencer finally asked.

“Yes”. You agreed.

He stood and held out his hand for you. You took it and slipped out of your seat, following him out the door. You felt anxious as you walked out into the cold air, cautiously looking up at him.

“Did you drive?” He asked, looking back.

“No…I came with (your mutual friend’s name).”

“You should probably tell her you’re leaving.” Spencer smirked.

“I can text her.” You blushed a little as you arrived at Spencer’s car.

You turned to face him as he opened the door for you. It was only now that you realized he was so much taller than you. All the time working with him at the university and you’d never noticed. He stepped closer and slid a hand around your waist.

“Can I kiss you?” Spencer asked.

Your brained seemed to short circuit, unable to form words, so you nodded almost too enthusiastically. Spencer leaned down and cupped your face, kissing you gently. The feel of his mouth on yours was dizzying. You weren’t drunk but you felt like it. He pulled you a little closer and you welcomed the feel of his body. After a few long moments he pulled back leaving you aching his touch. He gazed at you, stroking your cheek gently.

“Still want to go home with me?” He asked.

“Yes” Was all you could managed, still seeing stars.

Spencer helped you in the car before closing the door and running to the other side. You watched him get in and start the car.

“Don’t forget to text (your friend’s name).”

“Oh, right.” You reached for your phone and sent a quick text letting them know you’d found a ride.

They sent a reply with eggplant emoji’s and water droplets. Thank God it was dark because your cheeks were red at the idea of them knowing who you’d left with. The man you’d confided in her to having a crush on from the minute he’d walked into your life. As he drove you pulled your sleeves over your hands and fidgeted with them anxiously. You couldn’t have possibly expected him to not notice. He reached over and laced his fingers with yours.

“You play with your clothes when you’re nervous.” Spencer said, glancing at your hands.

Of course he’d noticed. The many meetings you’d sat in together, the times you’d been in the elevator together alone, the time he’d come to you asking for your opinion on a case, he’d seen it every time he was near you. You looked up as you felt the car slow to a stop. He put the car in park and you both sat for a moment. Finally your eyes met his. He gave you a soft smile.

“Do you still want to come inside?” Spencer asked.

“I do.” You answered.

He nodded and got out of the car, coming around to open your door and helped you out. Her nerves were started to become more noticeable. You didn’t do this. You never went home with guys. Especially not guys you worked with. Especially not anyone with an IQ of 187 and read books on ancient erotica. Spencer took your hand and led you into his building. Once in the elevator you chewed at your lip, your fingers linked with his as he pressed the button to his floor.

“Are you okay?” Spencer asked, reaching up to brush your hair behind your ear.

“Spence…you need checking on me. I’m fine. I’m sure. I promise.” You said, standing on your toes to kiss him.

He cupped your neck, returning the kiss. He was gentle and soft. You could only hope he maintained that once you were in his apartment. The elevator dings upon arriving at his floor. He pulled away reluctantly and you stepped off, making your way to his front door.

“I’m slightly surprised we aren’t stumbling down your hallway, too impatient to get inside.” You joked.

Spencer slid his key in the door, “We could have been but you deserve more respect than me just trying to fuck you.”

Your jaw dropped, surprised. “Spencer Reid said fuck!” You smirked.

“I’ve been known to swear on occasion.” He replied, letting you inside.

You stepped inside the apartment, looking around. He closed the door and locked it.

“So…what now?” He asked, stepping closer to you.

“Spence…we both know what’s going to happen…but can we pretend for five seconds that you’re not thinking about undressing me and be making obscene sounds shortly thereafter?” You asked, taking his hand.

“Well now that you’ve put that image in my head…it’s going to be hard not to.” He smirked.

“You mentioned you had books. I want to see the collection.”

“The lady gets what the lady wants.” He replied, leading you to his bookshelf.

It seemed to overflow with classic literature in many languages. You looked at the titles, a few familiar and many you’d never seen or heard of. Then your eyes caught a familiar gold cover. You smirked and pulled out Fourth Wing.

“You really did read it.” You smirked.

“You and Penelope wouldn’t shut up about it, I was curious what had you so worked up. It’s not my thing but it peaked my interest.” He replied. “Especially chapter 48 in Iron Flame.”

You froze, knowing exactly what he was referring to. He leaned in close, his breath hot on your skin.

“My house. My chair. My woman.” He whispered.

You looked up at him, your mouth suddenly dry. You had forgotten he’d mentioned the throne room scene.

“You…um…you know the exact chapter.” You stammered.

He smirked down at you. “Of course I do. You never told me how you felt about it.”

“I mean…obviously it’s hot.” You turned to face him. “What woman doesn’t want a man worshipping her on his knees on a throne.”

Spencer raised an eyebrow. “Is that what you want?”

“Do you have a throne?” You asked.

“Not quite a throne, but I definitely have a chair we can pretend is a thrown.”

You licked your lips as you felt your pulse rising. You felt hot again. You knew why you’d come to his apartment and now was the time you stopped pretending it was innocent.

“Show me.”

Spencer gave a soft smile and led you to his room. It was neat, bed made and everything orderly. Your eyes fell upon a gorgeous leather chair near the window. It was the perfect reading chair, but tonight it was going to be a throne for him to worship you on. He walked you over and you admired it. You could see it was tall enough that your feet might dangle if you sat down, and the leather was soft. God forbid you dig your nails into it and mark the leather.

“Are you sure?” Spencer asked from behind you.

You felt his hands sliding up your arms, stroking your biceps gently. His breath was hot on your neck as you leaned back into him.

“Yes.” You said, eyes closing when he kissed your neck.

“Then sit down.”

You swallowed anxiously, turning to face him before sitting down. You could have sworn his eyes darkened just a bit as he moved to the floor. Surprisingly the chair was the perfect height for you to be face to face. You pulled him against you and kissed him. His hands ran through your hair and down your shoulders. You knew exactly want was coming. He pulled away and removed your shoes. As his hands moved to your jeans you feel your pulse racing and your breathing quicken. He pulls you to the edge of the chair and tugs them down your legs. The air conditioning sends goosebumps over your skin as Spencer looks up at you. His eyes met yours and you forgot to breathe. He didn’t look away as you placed kisses on your legs, creeping higher and higher up your thigh.

“You’re so gorgeous.” He said, stroking your opposite thigh. “God, you’re perfect.”

You bit your lip, having trouble forming words. All you wanted was for him to devour and absolutely worship you. His hand slid over your hips and to the top of your underwear. The second they were gone you knew you’d never be able to recover. You ached for him. Slowly he slid them down and you watched him carefully. Spencer’s eyes darkened even more at the sight of you bare before him. He could see the moisture pooling at your core and he was instantly rock hard.

“Last time…you want this?” He asked.

“Last time, yes.” You panted, “Please, God, just touch me.”

Begging wasn’t something you’d thought you’d be doing but you were desperate. He nodded, moving one leg to sit over the arm of the chair and the other over his shoulder. You nearly came as his tongue slid through your wet folds. You let out a loud gasp, your head falling back against the back of the chair. He swirled around your clit, toying with it gently.

“Spencer, fuck!” You moaned, nails digging into the leather.

He smiled as he continued his actions, lapping up your juices. His hands held you firmly in place and you squirmed under his.

“Don’t stop, please.” You whimpered.

Spencer watched you coming undone, enjoying every second of it. Watching your breathing catch when he licked your clit. You moaned even louder when he slid a finger into you. It was nearly enough to finish you. Your hand moved to his hair and you tugged at it, causing him to groan against you. The vibrations only added to the pleasure. He added another finger, pushing you closer to the edge.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck…” You panted, so close to cumming.

Spencer felt you clench around his fingers and you moved them faster. His tongue massaged your delicate folds until finally you couldnt hold on.

“Spence, oh, fuck…” You whimpered before coming undone.

He smiled, working you through it. Finally you could breathe again and you looked down at him. He was just watching you, stroking your thigh gently.

“You okay?” He asked.

“More than okay.” You blushed as you sat up.

“How was it?”

“It rivaled all the fantasies I had about being worshipped in a thrown”. You admitted.

[cilil]

Hi, do you have any advices for budding writers on AO3 or here?

Hey! :)

I've given this some thought and compiled what I hope might be some helpful pointers, but if there's anything else or anything specific you want to hear more about, feel free to ask again. Also I'm assuming this is about the amazing craft of fanfic and not, uh, building a platform or whatever (I wouldn't be very helpful with that, I'm a nobody x)).

Share what you feel comfortable sharing.

So since you're asking about budding writers on AO3 and Tumblr, I take it you're at a point where you feel comfortable sharing your writing online, which is amazing. Nevertheless, I feel the need to once again mention (just for anyone who may be in the same or a similar situation) that it's completely alright not to be comfortable with it (yet) or not to share everything you write. I share almost everything simply because I'm annoying and it makes me feel accomplished and since I've grown pretty comfortable with it, I might as well; but not everyone feels that way and feelings also change. It's completely alright to write just for yourself or a small circle of friends.

Don't worry too much about "being good".

I will be the first to admit that I deeply relate to struggling with perfectionism when it comes to writing (and other creative pursuits). However, as someone who's been reading fic for many years, tends to be into quite niche and obscure things sometimes and is rarely spoiled by big fandoms' abundance of food, I want all writers, especially new ones, to know that you don't have to write the most amazing, perfect, publishing-ready pieces. What matters is your passion and creativity, which will show in your writing regardless of skill level. Not to mention that fic is free and in fact a tool for many to experiment.

That's not to say you can't strive to improve or be good - by all means, I find it admirable if you want to hone your craft and make progress as you continue to write. Just don't let perfectionism ruin your fun and stifle your creativity.

How to get better without trying overly hard.

Aside from just writing, writing and writing (that is the most important part though), how do you improve without making it a point to do so? Well, if it works for you to read/watch guides or you enjoy specific writing exercises, that's great, but one thing that I find gets overlooked a lot in writing spaces is simply: Reading. Just reading for fun.

I find that I often discover little things in other people's writing that I really like and then I think to myself "wow, that's really neat how they did that, maybe I could take a page out of their book" (pun intended) and make it a point to pay attention to these things when I write. Essentially, it's like creating a nice patchwork blanket which is your style, made up of your own voice and preferences as a writer and cool stuff you picked up on the road.

Let me just name some examples, which, yes, are also an excuse to shamelessly blow some writer friends of mine a well-deserved kiss of appreciation. @sauron-kraut writes incredibly polished short stories with beautiful wording and atmosphere that have a lot of little hidden things to discover and dissect, and I want to steal her ability to set the stage and hide those easter eggs. @a-world-of-whimsy-5 is an absolute legend when it comes to writing medieval and medieval-adjacent stuff, and I learned so much from her fics. @i-did-not-mean-to has a way of writing with such esprit and wit that I always end up in a good mood after, a style of narrative voice I've adored for over a decade, and I've greatly improved my humorous writing in particular thanks to her. @crackinthecup has the marvelous ability to craft extremely emotionally evocative scenes, which have encouraged me to be more courageous and experimental in my sentence melody and structure. @tragedybunny has a way of writing that reminds me of coming home to a warm and comfy place, and I will find out how she did it and how I can do it as well.

So as you can see, it can be super helpful to compare notes with your fellow writers. Never be discouraged by someone else's ability; instead learn and expand your own.

Feedback, criticism and community.

Let me just get one thing out of the way: You don't have to take criticism from everyone. Or at all. As far as I understand, the fanfic community has come to to agree that we're doing this for fun and don't give criticism unprompted/when we aren't sure it's wanted or welcome. As a general rule: Take criticism from those you would also seek advice from. Ask for feedback if you feel comfortable, and if not, that's a valid boundary to have and I will gently smack anyone who presumes to pick apart writing that was made for fun and generously shared with the community for free.

The community aspect, however, should be taken into account on other fronts. While I won't tell anyone they have to interact and believe that, in an ideal world, everyone's writing would just speak for itself, it is helpful to engage with the community. Things you can do (both on Tumblr and AO3 if also applicable/possible) include: Respond to people interacting with your works, interacting with other people's works (for example while you're doing your reading sessions and looking at other writers' styles) and just overall being present, being talkative, going with the flow.

Again, this is not a must. But I will say that pretty much all of us want positive responses and interactions on their work and that just won't work if you expect everyone to show up for you all the time and never show up for anyone else. Engagement, passion and community are our "currency" in the absence of money and reciprocity is an important element of that. A lot of friction and complaints in the fanfic community regarding lack of interaction or entitlement are rooted in misunderstandings of this fundamental principle.

But don't take this in a cynical manner. Seek out what you enjoy, share the joy and passion and you'll make friends just accidentally - which is the part that I find makes fandom on AO3 and Tumblr so much fun! (I don't even want to be a "traditional" author anymore, I want this instead😁)

Find your groove and groove along.

Lastly, make sure your writing is fun for you or else it'll become a chore and eventually get ruined for you as a hobby. This is unfortunately a continuous task as your needs and interests shift - for example you might be in the mood to do an entire drabble challenge one month and during another month you feel so drained that you couldn't do another one. Or you might want to write something different for a change. Or whatever it may be.

Either way, one recent lesson I've learned is that I got too tied up in obligations and it left no space for spontaneous inspiration, so I never got to write what I wanted to write in the moment and it pushed me quite close to burnout. Do yourself a favor and always hold that space for yourself. In practice, this could for example mean that you do one event and on the side write this cool new idea you had, instead of doing three events - which is fun and games until it starts getting too much and you don't have time for your passion projects.

Finding your groove also includes the whole technical aspect, such as which writing programs you use, which device (or none at all), where you write, how to make yourself comfortable, how to get in the right headspace for things. I would also like to encourage all of you to be a bit crazy and whimsical about this: For example I've gone to the perfume store, picked out a scent for a specific character in a specific scene and sniffed it while writing the description several times now. Do what it takes. And say goodbye to your squeaky clean search history - you will research some weird stuff just to get that one line right.

So yeah, these are just my random thoughts on fic writing and what has been helpful in order for me to have lots of fun with this hobby. Happy writing!

[matcha-milkies]

LIKE AN OLEANDER

Summary: Bill Cipher needs a footstool and a thoroughly Stockholmed Ford is happy to oblige.

Relationships: Bill Cipher & Ford Pines, Pyronica is there too

Content Warnings: Abuse, Master/Pet, Psychological Torture/Horror/Trauma, Stockholm Syndrome, Victim Blaming, Sensory Deprivation

Tags: Triangle Bill, Canon Divergence - Weirdmageddon, Bill Cipher Wins, Collars, Chains, Whump, Hurt No Comfort, Bill Cipher is a Jerk

Word Count: 1,306

Link to AO3: Here

A/N: Based on @jellyskink’s immaculate Domesticated Ford AU, in which Bill mentally breaks Ford in the 1980s and brainwashes him into an obedient and fawning pet. Weirdmageddon started early, and over time the weirdness bubble surrounding Gravity Falls naturally expanded to contain both California and Oregon. If you want to learn more, there’s a lot more tidbits on their blog, though fair warning it’s a pretty dark and sad AU.

Thank you, jellyskink, for giving me the green light to write a fic for this!

I saw someone say this au is “all pain, no sex” which is really at the heart of what I look for in fics, but is so painstakingly absent in most fandoms, so this is a godsend •⩊•

If you haven’t listened to “Oleander” by Mother Mother what are you even doing with your life /lh

Bill Cipher is in a particularly good mood today. He and Pyronica probably broke a record for largest bonfire in California, even counting all their previous antics over the years. Not the dream demon’s most creative endeavor by a long shot, but hey, sometimes you just gotta start a blazing inferno to let off some steam. Nothing wrong with a bit of simple, straightforward arson now and then.

It’s only when he returns to the Fearamid, practically glowing, buzzing and high off the screams of the innocent, that he remembers the state he left Sixer in.

The man is in a kneeling position, collared by the neck. His hair, fluffy and disheveled, feathers down to around his shoulders, brushing against the cruel blue metal. His twelve fingers twitch and grasp at nothing, futilely, as though groping for purchase on a rugged cliffside. His purple sweater is rumpled in places, like he had pulled and grabbed at that too, to no evident avail. He’s whimpering to himself, words that are at first indiscernible as Bill enters the massive chamber.

The scientist is tethered to a ring near the base of the Throne of Frozen Human Agony, staring vacantly into the middle space, unseeing. It’s not his fault. Bill severed all input from his optic nerves, so he literally can’t see. Or hear. Or feel. Yeah, he cut off those nerves too. It was supposed to be a punishment that lasted a few hours. And then Bill had left and gotten carried away with his fun, and well, it had been an entire day.

Whoops.

Make no mistake, he doesn’t feel bad about it. If anything, it’s kind of funny, like forgetting to feed your dog! Wait. Humans don’t find that funny. Well, who can expect them to understand the emotions of an all-powerful chaos god? He draws closer, and the previously indiscernible words sharpen into clarity.

“I love you, my muse. I love you.”

Repeated ad nauseam to the uncaring void.

“Aww,” Bill clasps his hands together and brings them closer to his eye. “He’s so pathetic!” Pyronica, who came in with him, nods her agreement and laughs along. This must be what it’s like to catch your puppy mid-dream, its little tongue lolling and leg kicking at nothing.

He can’t remember whether he instructed his pet to repeat those words or not. Honestly, it’s anyone’s guess. Bill’s will and Ford’s are so inextricable at this point that Ford often does things without needing to be told. Of course, they’re not entirely on the same wavelength, or else punishment wouldn’t be required in the first place.

“Eh, remind me to snap him out of it in another half an hour,” Bill says, settling himself on the throne. With a wave of an arm he summons a martini glass. “I’m gonna have myself a drink.”

“Sure thing, boss.” He summons a glass for her too, and hipshot, she accepts. “Hey, you think we should’ve put the fire out before we left?”

They both share a hearty chuckle over that. “Would be a shame if it all burned down!” Bill sighs as the laughter dies down. “Nah, but seriously. California will still be there for us to play with tomorrow. And if it isn’t, we can always just rebuild it! In my image! Ha!”

“Yeah. Technically the fires are my image though.”

“Touché!”

They talk for a while, maybe 20 minutes or so in this fashion, casually sipping time punch and discussing unnatural disasters like they’re music festivals. Ford goes completely untouched and unnoticed, until suddenly Bill returns his attention to the human, and a light bulb goes off next to his hat.

“Wait. Do you wanna see something hysterical? I have the best idea.”

Every sensation returns to Ford at once in a flood of color, touch and sound. Sometimes, when Bill is feeling merciful, he eases him back into it, but his merciful moods are few and far between. More commonly, he likes to toss the scientist in the deep end and watch him flounder, tears quickly beading at the corners of Ford’s eyes and spilling fatly over his cheeks. His body convulses in a singular, broken sob, and before he can finish another apologetic, “I love you,” Bill hits him with a hard command.

“Stanford! I need a footstool!” The demon extends his legs and wiggles his feet a little. He whistles as though beckoning a dog. “Come ‘ere!”

Despite his disorientation, Ford rushes to obey, lurching in the direction of Bill’s voice and falling flat on his face. Shakenly, he picks himself off the ground, letting loose a singular groan.

“I’m still waiting!” Bill sings, swinging his legs a little for effect. Pyronica snickers. Ford tries again, following the sound of his muse’s voice, although he is quickly dismayed to find that he’s already reached the end of his chain. He falls just short of Bill’s feet, and no matter how he chokes himself, no matter how hard he tugs at the collar or the chain attached, he can’t go any further than this. His distress is evident in the way he keens.

“What are you doing?” Bill demands, rolling his eye. “All I asked for was a simple footstool and you can’t even do that? Bad! Bad dog!” Ford sobs.

“I-I’m sorry, my muse!” he rasps, the cold metal of the collar pressing in on his windpipe as he strains to obey. “I’m so sorry!”

Pyronica is practically in stitches at this point, and Bill is a showman, a class clown ever chasing the next laugh. “Are you really though?” His eye wanes to an amused crescent. “Do you even love me, if you can’t even follow a command as simple as this?”

“Yes!” Ford insists with a cry. “Yes, my muse, I love you! I’m sorry that I’m so useless… Please, please forgive me…”

“Why should I? Do you think you deserve forgiveness?”

“N- No,” Ford sniffs, “but—”

“Alright, alright. Since I’m in such a good mood, I’ll give you a hand.” Bill waves his hand in a circle and the chain elongates, allowing just enough slack for Ford to crawl under his waiting feet. Bill settles them heavily on top of Ford’s back and sighs. “Ahh, that’s better.” The man shakes under the weight.

“Thank you, my muse,” he says. Normally, he would be a lot happier about serving Bill like this, but he’s clearly still torn up over his recent punishment and failures. “Thank you so much.”

“Don’t mention it, kid!” Bill rests his hands behind his ‘head,’ or rather, the tip of his topmost vertex. “Maybe after this, if you’re good, you can have a treat.”

“R- Really? Oh, thank you so much, my muse. I promise I’ll be good.” His voice is still wavery from the earlier-shed tears, but his cheer seems to be returning. It’s not difficult to keep the man happy when he’s so thoroughly and hopelessly smitten with his muse. Bill could have Pyronica drop-kick Ford off the top of the Fearamid right now and when he reached the bottom he would find a way to smile and thank Bill, no matter how many broken pieces he was in.

“Yeah. Now shut up while I get some reading in. Hasn’t anyone ever told you footstools don’t talk? Sheesh.” With a sigh, Bill summons an extradimensional magazine and floats it in front of his eye, every so often flipping through the pages. Pyronica says she’s off to see what Teeth and Keyhole are up to, and Bill acknowledges her departure with a little grunt and wave. Ford stifles a whimper. His back has already been giving him issues lately, and this definitely isn’t helping matters, but he soldiers through it for his muse. He’s determined not to mess up again. He’s determined to be a good footstool.

A/N: This is my first time writing from Bill’s perspective! I don’t usually write him this cruel, so it was a fun change of pace to lean full force into that side of him. Thanks again, jellyskink, I hope you liked this little installment!

[lazy-sixteen]

Daniil why would you say that???

Watching Pathologic (classic HD) while on break from suffering in Pathologic 2, and it really struck me how different the first meeting with the Bachelor was in each game.

Pathologic 1, well, only a screenshot can do it justice,

(Yes . . . far be it from me to call myself a person of mystical inclinations. However, when I look at you, I get the feeling that nature is playing jokes on us. It is as if both the left and right hand have clutched the head to realize for the first time they are two parts of a single whole.

>Why?

>I get that feeling too. Does that mean that we are alike?)

That's like the first thing he says to the Haruspex, and while yeah everybody in Pathologic talks like that to a degree, even in game, in character that's a wild thing for Dankovsky specifically to say.

We just spent an entire playthrough as this guy mocking and/or having breakdowns over the existence of the supernatural - especially precognition. And in strolls this 6'2 resting murder-face dude with half-a-medical degree, widely thought to be a serial killer (kinda true), and Dankovsky's like,

"BTW, my heart is telling me we're kinda two halves of the same whole.😊❤️"

Absolutely hilarious. Even funnier is that the Haruspex, grumpy at baseline and currently having the worst day of his life (so far), can agree with him. Great first impression all around!

Then over in Pathologic 2, the Bachelor is high-key fumbling, like fumbling so hard you can get an achievement for it.

Carpetbagger - Remind a colleague of the Hippocratic Oath -- and fail

Not to meme on the guy (who is of course, multi-faceted and at his core deeply altruistic even if he often seems to have trouble expressing that on an individual basis), but initial Pathologic 2 Bachelorencounter is Daniel at his most prickly prick.

He gets Artemy's name wrong (possibly on purpose and definitely twice),

condescendingly demands the Haruspex be his errand boy,

basically calls himself the smartest person in a room of 2,

and can accidentally imply that he left a couple of orphan children to die because he doesn't treat mutts (he actually refused to treat the orphans' dogs).

Yikes - no wonder Artmey spends the first couple of Days taking cheap shots at the guy.

I mean in both Haruspex routes eventually he ends up very friendly with the Bachelor, which makes senses on a thematic level given the some of the Haruspex's major themes/ideals are connection and community. You could say their first meeting was changed to be funnier ("Vorakh") or more in character for the expected tension between two people under a lot of stress who can both be difficult to get along with at baseline

However, what about if we look at it from a meta-narrative level?

While you can play Pathologic 1 as either the Bachelor or the Haruspex on your initial run, it's pretty common knowledge who you are supposed to play first.

"Daniil Danokovsky's Fun Steppe Vacation was just the tutorial for Artemy Burakh's Tormentous Nightmare" - HBomberguy in Pathologic is Genius and Here's Why

This means that the player in Pathologic 1 has already been introduced to Daniil - even if Artmey hasn't - and the game reflects that! You the player know the Bachelor, you've been him, and you probably got really attached after keeping him alive for 12 horrible, horrible days.

Even though you know he can be a bit sanctimonious and dismissive, the player knows he's rational and compassionate and thus already used the evidence at hand to figure out Artemy hasn't killed anybody!

Of course one of the first things you (the player) would want to do as the new protagonist is check on your former avatar, and the game rewards you for it! Talking with the Bachelor on Day 1 as Artemy can raise your reputation - which is super critical. It might be the increase that keeps you from getting hunted in the streets or starving as shops refuse to sell food. What a great first (Second?) impression!!

Daniil's unprompted "hey are we soulmates or is it just me?" line is funny, but meta-narratively it is also true. They are the player's first two avatars, taking turns being puppeted by the same you as protagonists through the same overall story to two opposing conclusions. They are (your) right and left hand. You've played Dankovsky, (you) know this and having previously been the protagonist this new Dankovsky seems to subliminally know this too.

Meanwhile over in Pathologic 2, the only route is the Haruspex - disregarding the Marble Nest (worst day of Dankovsky's life [so far, ad infintuum]) which has enough time fuckery going on that I shall disregard it for this analysis - you can only be Artemy Burakh.

Either under the assumption that the player of Pathologic 2 hasn't played Pathologic 1 or that they've played all of Pathologic 1 including Changeling' Route's extended murder hide and seek between Dankovsky and Burakh, We (the player and Artemy) don't know Daniil when we meet him in Pathologic 2 as anything but the broken man we saw in the depressing into.

Is he our friend this time? Is he our enemy? Whatever he is, he's certainly a sanctimonious prick.

(Today's tragedy won't be the last. I was blessed with a naturally high intelligence, and my observations indicate that a very deadly visitor has come to this god-forsaken town. That's all I can say for now.

>...I don't like you, Bachelor Whatever.)

In Pathologic 2, both the player and Artmey meet Daniil Dankovsky at at his worst, and slowly work-up from there because both of us are meeting, getting to know, and building a relationship with him for the first time.

This is actually parallel to how you first meet the Haruspex in Pathologic 1 as the Bachelor!

If you are playing in the intended order, both the player and Daniil don't know anything about Artmey besides the serial killer rumors, and likewise you meet him at his worst - (in prison and later he murders a young woman to get Daniil the infected heart he needs to try and develop a vaccine). Much like we see the worst of Daniil's classism, arrogance, and inability to connect beyond quid pro quo (hehe, latin) in our Patho2 intro; in Patho1 we initially only see Artemy's standoffishness, brutality, and stubbornness.

Interestingly, following Daniil's themes/ideals of transcendence and rationality we (the player and Daniil) don't actually end up connecting much with Artmey on the Bachelor's route. The player is influenced by the puppet, and why would Dr. Daniil Dankovsky - whose route is plagued by betrayal, manipulation, and the difficulty of connecting to even people who do selflessly care for him (like Eva) - make friends with a violent, possibly dangerous guy who practices a sort of medicine Dankovsky doesn't believe in?

(I couldn't find a good screenshot for this, but mentally insert a picture of Artemy doing a roadside dissection)

Basically if Daniil is the player's protagonist he won't reach out, because in-character why would he?

If Artemy is the player's protagonist, Daniil will try to be friends in Patho1 (because of the player's previous actions affecting both avatars) or in Patho2 Artmey will eventually connect with him because that's in-character for him.

Overall, I suppose this means that Danii's instant and uncharacteristic buddy-buddy attitude with Artemy on the Haruspex route Patho1 is completely justified from a meta-textually narrative, as is his horrific fumbling in Patho2.

And it is also very, very funny.

[redvexillum]

Hey there my sweetest, beloved Vexi ♡

I just wanted to share something personal with you that you can then share with others because I know that they feel the same.

Writing has always been my passion. It's been the one thing that has kept me afloat in my life. Regardless of whether people love my writing or hate it, I would continue for the sake of continuing because it is my life.

But when I rejoined fandom spaces, I was terrified after hearing stories of how the culture had changed significantly. Interaction is lower, and hate has unfortunately always made its home in these communities. Given I share fanfiction solely to share with the aforementioned communities, I found myself afraid that I would get hate messages. I was afraid I wouldn't have a community that would stand up for me if that were to happen. While it would never deter me from what I love, I was scared that friendships and positivity were long dead in this space. Fandom felt lonely.

You know what though? I have met wonderful person after wonderful person. And then I met you too. There you are, getting some of the most horrendous messages I've ever seen sent to another human being, and you continue to push for positivity - smiling and laughing with us about how much you just want to see people happy.

Then you went on to start share some of the wonderful messages you recieved throughout that ordeal, only to begin writing positive affirmations and thoughts for us. Once upon a time, I struggled to accept this sort of positivity, I will admit that. When I was having a rough time, I would often see messages like that as 'hollow' for a lack of better words. I would be angry or bitter that others could think like that when I struggled so much to feel like those words should have meant something to me.

While time has passed since I was that person, I still remember the feeling of hopelessness, yet that doesn't deter from the fact that people like you - and countless others - single handedly restored my faith in these communities.

People like you remind me why I cling to my ideals of treating everyone with kindness no matter what. To try to understand other people. To help others. These are all things that bring us closer together. People like you, @silva-daemonium, @fraugwinska, @macabr3-barbi3, @chrisemrysfics, @melodyonthewireless, @dewdropdinosaur, @xalygatorx, @kewpikayo, @jurijyuu, @jalicecookie, AND SO MANY MORE do so much to support those around you.

All of this came about because I wanted to say thank you for posting those short little messages of encouragment. I know that I have appreciated them. Sure, they might seem a little cheesy to me on a morning when I'm tired - but they really make me smile, and prepare me to tackle whatever the day gives.

You're the beating heart of positivity.

It's a fairytale ending to the horror stories I expected.

I know that other people will see this too, so I just wanted to wish everyone that sees this a relaxing morning, afternoon, evening - timezone in general! You're here, and you've worked hard to be here all this time. Everything you've needed to do to achieve that, you've done. That's huge. I'm so proud of everyone, and my DMs are always open to anyone who might be struggling or just wants to talk. I'll always aim to help my community in the same way that Vexi has demonstrated.

Love to you all, and again, thank you for your messages, Vexi!

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Cirice, I honestly don’t have the words to fully capture how much your kindness means to me. You are truly one of the most thoughtful, beautiful souls I’ve ever had the honor to meet, and I can’t thank you enough for your words. Knowing that something I’ve done has made even a small impact on people like you is still so surreal to me. I’m just deeply grateful that you’re part of this community.

You and so many others are the reason why I’ve stayed here longer than in any other fandom. It’s been the most heartwarming experience. This community, especially people like you, has genuinely transformed my perspective on what fandoms can be: a space filled with compassion, creativity, and connection.

Thank you for sharing your story, for giving me (and others) a piece of your heart. I hope your words reach others, inspiring them to create, to feel they belong, and to understand how wonderful it is to be part of something like this. Knowing we’re all here together, finding meaning in these connections, it makes the world feel a little less lonely and a lot brighter. 💖

Also tagging the people that didn't get properly tagged because tumblr is broken: @dewdropdinosaur @xalygatorx @kewpikayo @jurijyuu @jailcecookie

[artist-issues]

Hi, not to sound like a creep but I was trying to find this one reply to ask about the Chosen series because I remembered something and I wanted to see if you're the one who said it. But then I couldn't find it. Stumbled into this one post where you said your least favorite medium is anime and I'm quite curious about that now. I don't generally have an issue when people say they don't like anime, as a whole, but I try to understand why. Of course even if you just said "I just don't like it" then I could respect that too, since I can not push it.

I think it's like a language I don't speak. Even the English-dubbed versions. In anime, it's not made by people in my culture, for my culture. So, I don't understand it very well. I don't understand why everyone's screaming. I absolutely don't understand the character designs. I don't understand the use of blushing. I don't understand the humor or the drama. I don't understand why one interaction can take several "episodes," and the dialogue is unrealistic the entire time. People don't talk like that. And it would be one thing if people talked in an unrelatable cadence once, as part of the "style" of a film or show, but it's across the board for every anime I've seen.

There's nothing wrong with that, per se. Like I said, it's just made for a different culture, one I'm not in. And that's fine. Could I learn it? Could I engross myself in it until I feel what the media is trying to make me feel and get what they're trying to say?

Yeah. I could.

But most often, it doesn't feel worth it. It doesn't feel like the anime I've seen is really trying to point to a significant truth or remind people of goodness and beauty, so much as it is pointless entertainment.

Otherwise, why is there so much gratuitous cleavage? Whats with the emphasis on violence violence violence? Plus cursing? Why are all of the "attractive" characters a little-girl stereotype or a sexy femme fatale stereotype? And what's with the feminine looking dude characters? Why does one fight take six episodes? Why does one "romance" last an entire show but consist of nothing except gasps and blushes?

Not a fan.

I have seen one or two anime that clearly have a point. They're Studio Ghibli, though.

And again, I'm not saying anime's have no point in general. I'm saying I'd have to understand the culture to get the point, but the culture itself seems to be based around values that I don't find valuable. And a lot of those "values" if I'm reading them right are the ones our Western culture is starting to push down throats more and more, and I don't like those, either, so there you go.

I also find it odd that so many young Western men are drawn to anime. I don't think it's an awesome thing. All the anime I've ever seen: Demonslayer, Naruto, etc. doesn't have anything particularly good for them in it. There's a ton of violence, of egos getting slung around, yelling, and terribly long gratuitous brain-numbing pacing, along with sensual gasping and drama-for-drama's sake. And I know my young male friends are no more Japanese or understanding of Japanese culture than I am. So what are they getting out of it? They can't ever tell me.

Maybe you can?

[skyplayssplatoon3]

Tips On Keeping A Healthy Mindset In Splatoon 3

Feeling frustrated? Beaten down? Like you're getting worse? As someone who's played since 2015 Splatoon 1 days, here's a few reminders:

Splatoon 3, Unsurprisingly, Has Major Connection Issues Nintendo likely did not realize just HOW massive this game's popularity would end up being! We're at 10 million copies sold since September 2022 (and Splatoon 3 sold 13.3 million TOTAL in its lifespan) Chances are, you're going to be splatted in unfair ways, and you're going to miss shots/damage in unfair ways. Take it as is! It's frustrating but it doesn't mean you're necessarily doing badly.

Your Worst Games Do Not Determine Your Actual Skill We all have bad days! We all have off days, we may be stressed or tired or just feeling very unfocused for the day. Maybe previous losses have us tilted and more clumsy. It's okay! No one can play their 100% best every single day. If you're having some bad rounds, take a break! The more relaxed, calm, and focused you are, the more likely you'll do better! Try to roll with the punches, learn some lessons from the losses, and find your fun in the games!

Take A Break! Play Other Games, Do Other Things Sometimes we just need to walk AWAAAY from this game for a while, especially if our frustration gets super bad. I know people wanna land just one more win, just one more rank up...But we gotta learn how to take the L sometimes and go take care of our mental health. Splatoon, while understandably frustrating at times, should always be FUN in the end too. When it stops being fun, stop playing! You'll feel much better after a break and can return to it with a clearer head!

For Best Results, Play With Friends! Universally, I hear many people have more fun in Splatoon when playing with another person, or even a squad! You can handle losses more easily while ranting or laughing together during! If you don't have friends to play with, there are many servers dedicated to finding people! Also you can just post here on Tumblr a few times; I'm sure others are looking for folks to play with too!

Ultimately, There's An RNG Element To Splatoon 3 Matchmaking Does Not Exist In This Game. In Splatoon 2, we had a ranking system! If you were A- to A+, you'd be matched in Rank with JUST A- to A+ players. Now there are the occasional smurfs (people on alt accounts), but generally you had people your own rank exclusively! Splatoon 3 doesn't have that! Not for Turf War, not for Anarchy. X Rank even doesn't have real matchmaking, as those in X 1800 have fought people in X 2500 or higher. So this means you have no control over what teams you fight, or what teammates you get. You can, and will, get unlucky. You losing does not always mean it was your fault! Some players may be more skilled / have more hours / etc, and you can't be blamed for that! Accept some losses were just streaks of bad luck that came your way. Take a deep breath, accept it as it is, and go on to the next match!

I hope this helps, and remember to take care of yourself first and foremost! And as much as we love it, it is indeed just a game, and has no bearing on you as a person, your self worth, etc.

[puppyeared]

I love you when we haven’t talked in weeks and months I love you when I have 12 unread messages I love you when im not in the mood to talk. We’re still friends even when we spend time apart

[angelnumber27]

violently forcing myself to have better days

[lale-txt]

it's been over a week but i legit haven't stopped thinking about this

[fatehbaz]

.

[gurorori]

tbh it's still crazy 2 see progressive (ie western slash european & american i guess? yanno wat i mean. places wher we r nawt radicalised & illegalised into it oblivion) audiences have such (understandably) high standards 4 queer media or even queer representation as a whole & won't take less than. like i understand it's cause ya can expect better so ya will, in sum cases ya can even demand better. but it's simply nawt an option 4 many of us.

like idk perhaps a bit too harsh of me 2 say but regardless of the political atmosphere there's still a difference between livin' in a place where ya still have rights, have pride & can walk into a store etc & find queer literature & rep & even merch, have resources 2 support yrself & find yr community. & a place where as much as wavin' a pride flag or even havin' a pride pin, OR G-D FORBID holdin' yer partner's hand WILL get ya arrested & jailed. an' yr lucky if ya don' get assaulted or killed be4 dat can happen 🫥

[bunnyboy-juice]

honestly. being able to be honest with my loved ones about when i am Mentally Unwell but also Dont Want To Talk About It has done wonders for my mental health

[syn4k]

cant wait to be an adult so that i can finally start being treated like a human being instead of a teenager

[yappingmoxie]

made a birthday post for my grandma yesterday since no one else remembered it and immediately afterwards my sister made one and really drilled in hard about how she named my newest niece after her. and idk. I’m still upset. I’ve been crying off and on about it because like. I know it wasn’t right but my grandma would tell anyone who listened how I was her favorite grandchild (and tbh I think besides it just being true she did that bc she knew how awful my mom and sister were to me) and would brag on me constantly. and my sister did nothing but talk about how annoying my grandma was and say the worst things about her right before she died. but yet she loved her so much that she forgot her birthday 2 years in a row so I mean clearly she just had to take the name I fought with her over during her first pregnancy. I’m so glad I’ve had my cousin throughout all of this because otherwise I’d feel legitimately insane. She’s been amazing at reminding me how much grandma loved me and helping reinforce that grandma and I DID have an agreement that she wanted ME to name my daughter after her if I ever had one. Everything my sister does though feels so spiteful. Like I love my niece so much and it just sucks that I can’t even spend time with her without being reminded of how much my sister wants to hurt me. I don’t blame the baby though. Like it hurts and makes interacting with her a little difficult but she’s innocent. And the thing is I wouldn’t have even minded if she named her that out of genuine love and respect for my grandma but I know she didn’t. From not letting anyone be with my grandma in the hospital when she died to putting her ashes in my fucking mailbox to telling me that my grandma hated me and I didn’t do enough for her to telling me how awful I was for taking a week off to implying I should’ve been there even tho she lied to me about her being in the hospital to withholding photos she promised me of her to ruining my grandmas house (she lets my 5 year old niece write all over the walls and keeps a million fuckin farm animals like ducks and chickens and turkeys inside when grandma didn’t even let dogs in) to asking the preacher at her funeral to say some pointed remarks about me being no contact with my mom to now using her daughters name as a direct slight against me I can’t help but feel like all she wants to do is weaponize my dead grandma against me without even worrying about how disrespectful she’s being to her as long as it hurts me. I haven’t even tried talking to about my nieces name because after confronting her about my grandmas passing I know it’ll do nothing to actually remedy anything and will just lead to even more explosive fights where I know she’ll just double down on saying things she know will hurt me. And I don’t want to argue about my grandma. I don’t want to use her memory for something disrespectful. It doesn’t feel right and doesn’t feel like honoring her in any way that she’d appreciate. I just want her to be respected. I want her name to be used for something kind and loving instead of spiteful. Because ultimately that’s what she was. My kind and loving grandma. Not a tool to cause arguments and tension. She was always the mediator in the family and I can’t help but think how disappointed she’d be to know her passing has been used in the way it has to further drive a shift in the family.

[theramblingvoid]

Reminder for writers: it's okay if your writing today didn't come out looking like the Secret, Infinitely Cooler Version of the piece that you have in your head. no one else can see that one to compare. it's in your head