#I made an index/list for anyone interested

[camphalfghoul]

Rusty Lake Drawings List:

Seasons The Lake Arles Harvey's Box (another version) Case 23 The Mill Birthday Theatre The Cave Cube Escape Collection Paradox Paradise Hotel Roots Samsara Room The Past Within Underground Blossom

[venusbyline]

Tears ࿐ྂ Kinktober. 10, oct.

— pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x fiancée!reader

— type: smut, Kinktober (House of the Dragon Edition)

— kink: nipple play + cockwarming

— summary: Jacaerys had a perfect betrothal with his younger sister. But everything changed when you found out about his past affair with Cregan Stark's half-sister.

— word count: 798

— tags/warnings: kinktober 10th day, Targcest/Velaryon Incest (older brother/younger sister), Targaryen/Velaryon!reader, Rhaenyra and Harwin's daughter!reader, nipple play, cockwarming, punishment, degradation, past infidelity, choking kink, loss of virginity, curse words, dacryphilia, crying, masturbation, sadism, sub!Jacaerys, dom!reader, Cregan Stark mentioned, minor Jacaerys Velaryon x Sara Stark, porn with plot. no use of y/n. english is not my first language.

— tagging list: @baybaybear1 @blessedbymoon @p45510n4f4shi0n @lina-lovebug @moonnicole

— crossposting: AO3

You were on top of Jacaerys for hours. You were on top of him, without riding, without making any movement, your focus being solely on reading a random parchment that your Mother had asked you to give to your Stepfather Daemon later.

Your body had been still for so long that you could feel your thighs starting to go numb. But you were not bothered at all. The discomfort in your calves was worth it when you could hear the pathetic little noises coming from Jacaerys' lips. The lack of action was making him panic, his thick cock becoming more and more painful inside your warm tight cunt.

Before all this, he pictured several ways of what it would be like to take your virginity. How you would look when he thrust himself inside you, when a little amount of your blood dripped onto the sheets, when you looked at him wide-eyed and scared as he began to fuck you faster. He pictured your moans resounding through the chambers.

Jacaerys pictured so much action and so many sounds. And now he was receiving only your stillness and almost lack of interest. He knew you were doing it on purpose, not allowing him the satisfaction of turning yourself into a mess just for him.

Jacaerys knew why you were keeping his cock inside you, even though you were not riding him, just focused on any other task. And he knew how much he deserved all that.

If only he had not betrayed your trust and slept with Sara Snow...

"My love, please..." Jace begged, trying to lift his hips up to get a little more friction between your bodies. "P-please..."

Your hands went straight to his thick and muscular thighs, pinning his body to the mattress and preventing Jacaerys from continuing his efforts to thrust inside you.

"Stop moaning like a stupid whore." You growled, throwing the parchment to the floor and looking at him with disgust, your dark hair like his, but long covering your breasts. "That's what you learned during your stay at Winterfell, was not it? Besides how to warm your face between the full breasts of northerners women..."

Jacaerys closed his eyes, a mixture of embarrassment and also lust. He did not want to get more horny when he remembered the nights with Sara, but it was impossible when you brought up his infidelity during the act. Or a near-act.

The way his cock twitched and pulsed within your walls did not go unnoticed by you. That made you angrier than you already were, your hand moving up to his bare chest below yours, taking the small, soft and almost flat nipple between your thumb and index finger, squeezing it and earning a startled cry from Jacaerys.

"F-fuck!" He whimpered, trying to push your hand away from his chest, but your hand gripped his neck before he could push you away, his cock pulsing again as you caressed his sensitive nipple and applied pressure to his throat at the same time.

"You dare think about another woman while you are inside my cunt?" Your growl made him close his eyes again and whimper, before looking at you with a sad pout on his pretty lips.

"I am not thinking about anyone else, I swear this to you..." It was not a complete truth and you knew it. You frowned and leaned over, making the slightest movement on top of him so you could face his chest, removing the grip on his throat so you could focus your attention on licking the nipple that was not being caressed by your fingertips. "Oh, Seven Hells..."

Jacaerys hated himself in that instant. He hated himself for cheating on you. He hated himself for letting rumors fly so fast across Westeros. He hated himself for being interested in Cregan Stark's half-sister while he already had a perfect betrothal with a perfect fiancée waiting for him in Dragonstone. He even hated himself for being so horny while you were humiliating him, even though he deserved every second of everything you wanted to do to him

"I am so sorry, my love..." Jacaerys moaned, looking at you with eyes filled with crystal clear tears. You stopped for a while, watching his handsome face and ran your tongue over the other sore rosy nipple, nibbling with little pressure before lifting yourself up, rubbing your own clit so that Jacaerys could feel your cunt crushing him.

"I know you are." You mumbled half-heartedly, before smiling sarcastically at your fiancé and older brother, your gaze so bitter that he had to take a deep breath, understanding that not even the fact that he was the heir could free him from your anger and resentment. Jacaerys knew he was lost and depended on your mercy.

HOTD Edition - Masterlist

Criminal Minds Edition - Masterlist

Venusbyline's Kinktober 2024 - Masterlist

[homestuckreplay]

As somebody who’s nuerodivergent and has MDD (Major Depressive Disorder aka Clinical Depression), I find those points about John very interesting! Is there any other hints of this throughout the comic that we’ve seen?

hello!! sorry this took so long, I reread every John page so far and I now have a normal length answer to this question!! (2.9k words shhhh) I will broadly talk about neurodivergence first and then depression, but some of these points could apply to either or both.

I’m also neurodivergent, and I’ve had depression in the past, so this is based on my personal experiences + reading through the diagnostic criteria. if anyone else has different experiences I’d love to hear about it!

So my favorite academic article I’ve found this year is in a journal of disability studies by autistic writer David Preyde, and it’s just him listing all his special interests and how and why they became important to him. It reads like a blog post and I love that it was ‘officially’ published. It reminds me so much of how the Homestuck kids have been introduced, just more in depth.

John is hitting some common/stereotypical special interests, like computer programming and movie trivia, and some less common ones, like old comedians. I don’t think the fact of having interests makes John neurodivergent, but his approach to them might. John sees a Con Air reference and immediately starts explaining the plot of the movie (p.132); he also does recreations of Deep Impact (p.21), A Time to Kill (p.109) and Armageddon (p.223) He can list all the rare Gushers flavors (p.979). He thinks Colonel Sassacre will be able to tell him the ‘precise index of elevated hilarity’ of a joke (p.36). John treats things really methodically, he likes to list and sort and categorize. It’s why he likes programming computers but isn’t good at it – he knows it’s a great hobby for all that, but hasn’t quite mastered the rules yet.

This is also how he figured out punch card alchemy. Not only does he pick up a new skill much quicker when it relates to an existing special interest (stage magic), but he’s a super fast problem solver when the rules make sense and it works the same every time. He prefers familiarity, taking a while to adjust to changes, like taking time to warm up to the new MSPA adventure (p.112).

I would even argue that John’s sylladex could be a new special interest – it’s something he’s just found at the start of the comic (while his friends have all been into it for a while) and he’s deeply frustrated by the rules at first, when its behavior constantly changes due to different numbers of cards, lack of available cards, options to combine items, new modi, etc. But he still works at it for hours even though it’s hard, because it’s captivated him somehow. He picks up the language and techniques at a speed that’s only possible for someone very dedicated, and he’s super excited to get the control deck for his birthday, a very practical gift that other kids might be bored by. This is like the Homestuck equivalent of getting a backpack with a lot of pockets.

John is really proud of the computer wallpaper he made (p.25) and still gives his dad drawings to put on the fridge (p.253) – he’s very earnest about his interests. He also kind of has the fandom impulse to create his own canon that he likes better than the source material – upon seeing Harry Anderson: Wise Guy, he thinks that ‘Mike Caveney's glowing treatment of the man does him every bit of justice’ (p.253), but when he actually re-reads the book, Caveney’s ‘ambivalent attitude toward [John’s] favorite magician in these anecdotes always struck [him] as a little weird’. John is inventing Wise Guy fanfiction in his head which is incredible. It’s also an example of black and white thinking, and the quick switch from one extreme to the other in opinions without much room for nuance, that John often exhibits.

John also has a lot of specific object fixations, or comfort objects – the Con Air bunny has quickly become this. In the original movie the bunny is owned by a 7-year-old girl, while John presents as a 13-year-old boy, someone for who it’s far less socially acceptable to own a stuffed animal – but John isn’t concerned about that. The green slime ghost pogo ride is another object he returns to over and over – other people might see that as a dangerous knockoff piece of junk, but to John it carries a lot of meaning (p.105, 476). He’s always carrying things like a wizard’s hat (p.44) or shaving cream (p.488) in his sylladex that have no practical use, he just wants to have them.

John is really weird in social interactions, and often tries to avoid them altogether. The lengths John goes to to not run into his dad while exploring the house in the first 100 pages take more time and effort than actually talking to him, but John avoids him no matter the cost. On page 30 he’s also frustrated because Dave is texting him again, and John wants to be left in peace to look at his video games. Not play the games, just look at them. It’s very relatable to me to want to just enjoy my cool stuff even when not actively engaging in it, and to have a lot of ‘off time’ even from my close friends.

John responds to Rose’s genuine sentiments with ‘haha, oh jeez, that is silly!’ (p.256) and struggles with getting his dad to talk about his nanna’s death – on page 543 he considers asking her about it directly; I think some neurotypical people may see that as an unwritten social taboo. But John isn’t uncaring; he marks his friends’ birthdays on his calendar (p.999) and buys them all personalized gifts that they all end up loving, even if Rose interprets hers as a ‘subtle dig’ which John didn’t intend (p.442). John also says ‘ok, i guess i will take your word for it’ to Nanna (p.420) could come across as passive-aggressive, but John means it so genuinely.

John struggles to see beyond his own perspective, like when he’s surprised that it’s already dark in Rose’s house (p.174) despite knowing where she lives. He’s generally very preoccupied with his own concerns, but he eventually remembers to ask Rose ‘are you ok? hasn't your house been on fire for like... five hours now?’ He clearly cares about the people he’s close to, but doesn’t show it in the most obvious ways.

John is hilarious, but he doesn’t tell jokes in a standard format. He is straightforward in all social interactions, and doesn’t have the bantering instinct that Rose and Dave do. Some top tier examples of John humor: ‘it is understandable because you are really attractive. i am attracted to you... jk haha’ (p.35), ‘oh, btw... jk I was wearing a funny disguise this whole time. gotcha! hehehehe’ and Rose’s accompanying response of ‘I know, John.’ (p.63), and ‘yeah, more like the opposite of all those things is the thing that is true!’ (p.386). He clearly has the jokester’s spirit, but unusual execution.

John generally takes things at face value, thinking that Jade ‘seems like a pretty regular girl’ (p.652), and his dynamic with Dave is really fascinating. All their conversations read like Dave is doing a bit and John is taking him completely seriously, but Dave isn’t making fun of John, they’re both having a good time. So it’s not like when a so-called normal kid bullies a weird kid in school, it’s more like these two people who are both different flavors of neurodivergent bouncing off each other in a way that unexpectedly works. This also explains why John hates GameBro and Dave likes it – John takes it seriously while Dave is reading it as a satire of other gaming magazines. (I actually don’t know which is true).  

John has a bunch of rigid rules for the world that read like shortcuts – he doesn’t innately understand societal norms, but has figured out these approximations through careful observation. A kid’s yard must have a tire swing (p.27), a fireplace must have a fire (p.50), and a father must have a pipe (p.74) and by satisfying the checkboxes you can make a family. He’s hesitant to break rules he knows even when it’s a logical course of action, like when he doesn’t want to break the window of his dad’s car to get the Sburb disc and save Rose’s life (p.289).

But if he hasn’t added something to his List of Known Social Rules, it’s open season – he’s completely unconcerned when he accidentally throws one of Dad’s harlequin figurines into the abyss (p.266) even though he gets upset when the things he likes are defaced. The imps are ‘stupid lousy’ for ‘mucking up all [John’s] cool stuff’ (p.473) and have ‘fucking ruined’ his movie posters which ‘were like children to [him]’ (also another example of object fixation). John being overly cautious in some social situations but totally oblivious in others is SO neurodivergent to me, so obviously someone who wants to get it right, but doesn’t have the innate skill.

John clearly struggles with emotional regulation, I don’t think he’s good at masking in face-to-face interactions, and even online ones when he gets stressed enough. He also has very physical reactions to emotional distress (and excitement!), and that can’t be explained by the medium needing to show emotions visually, because he does this to a FAR greater extent than Rose and Dave. John does a victory dance when he wins in battle (p.405) but scrunches up his face and covers his ears when Nannasprite offers him cookies (p.429). Some panels where he’s having a meltdown are really evocative, and it’s so easy for me to imagine how he must be feeling – the chaos of page 517, where John is paralyzed and panicked from way too many stimuli both inside and outside his head, is my best example.

His panic is also evident in his pesterlogs with Dave and Jade shortly after arriving in the Medium. He’s pretty rude to Dave, saying ‘dude, i don't have time for your nerdy raps!’ (p.204) and his sudden use of lots of exclamation points make all his messages sound distressed. He pours the whole story of his meteor escape to Jade, seemingly unable to stop himself (p.293) where someone with more control over their emotional responses might bottle it up, or at least calm down before explaining the story to a friend.

John’s intrusive thoughts are part of the medium; hearing commands in his head is better explained by the story’s rules than by John’s mental state. However, studies have found that intrusive thoughts are very common among humans – they’re just easy to dismiss for most people, while a small minority find them distressing to the point that they affect daily life.

Rose posits that John’s reactions to WV’s commands could be ‘the early symptoms of an anxiety disorder, like post-traumatic stress’ but I read it a little differently; I think his distress at WV’s commands, as opposed to the background radiation of reader commands, kind of represents how a symptom that is manageable in one context becomes debilitating in another.

Related to commands, John likes having clear instructions to follow, and doesn’t respond well to uncertainty. When he has no idea how to use the alchemiter, he just stands on it (p.161) – but he also doesn’t uncritically accept authority. He defers to expertise and likes to ask specific questions and get clear instructions before acting, but that has to be earned. He sees Rose as smart and capable in general, so he follows her instructions within Sburb (for example, p.178) unless he has a better idea (for example, p.187). But the Wayward Vagabond hasn’t earned John’s trust or done anything besides shout and insult him, so John resists his commands (for example, p.264).

A few miscellaneous things I noticed are John just HAVING to complete high fives with his sprite’s raised arm (p.198, 880), John being clumsy and accidentally toppling his nanna’s urn (p.53), John having very strong preferences when it comes to food, as he loves Gushers enough to get them as a birthday gift (p.972) but pulls instinctive faces of disgust at the thought of eating cookies (p.430), and the line ‘there is apparently no crisis so imminent that will deter you from contemplating idiotic and frivolous actions’ (p.199). I think that someone whose brain processes things differently may appear idiotic and frivolous, and they might even internalize that perspective, but the logic actually makes sense. (In this case, John trying to eat a unit of build grist taught him more about how grist as a gaming abstraction works).

Most evidence for John’s depression is in early act 1, before the plot really kicks off. John is very depersonalized at the start of the story; it’s only on his thirteenth birthday that he gets given a name, and he’s associated with a regularly-changing disguise throughout the first hundred pages. There’s a broader theme of mistaken identity in his home – his dad might be a clown or might be a businessman, the figurines might be clowns or harlequins or mimes, the poster on the wall might be Michael Cera but isn’t, and both John’s dad’s room and his own room are not what he expected them to be.

I think this theme of disguise relates to how John doesn’t see himself as having a real identity, perhaps not even a recognizable personality outside of his interests. I also think John is much better at masking his depression than his neurodivergence in a way that’s pretty tragic. Both Rose (p.63) and Dad (p.89) see through John’s CLEVER DISGUISE immediately and think they know John for it, but there’s another part to the disguise that they never notice.

John puts himself down a lot in the early story, insulting his own taste in movies and skills at programming in his list of interests (p.4), thinking of himself as a pooplord (p.5), as neither a skilled magician nor cunning prankster (p.8), stupid (p.16), etc. The “sad clown paradox” (for sure one of my favorite Wikipedia article titles) refers to the correlation between comedians and depression, and while it’s not universal, I think it’s very true for John. Playing a prank on someone and seeing their reaction is a moment of predictable pleasure in an endless drudgery of whiling away the hours, and those tiny bursts of dopamine – and connection with another person, if they respond well – are what keeps John going.

John struggles to focus on reading – every book he owns, we’ve seen him contemplate reading and put off until later. He does this with Colonel Sassacre’s (p.32, 69, 885), Wise Guy (p.123, 253), Data Structures for Assholes (p.116), and the Shaving Almanac (p.544). When he does sit down to read, he’s easily distracted (p.391) – he has good reason here, but this struggle to focus could be a sign of depression. This could be why John has an interest, paranormal lore, that we don’t really see him engage in; it’s easy for depression to take the joy out of something that was once filled with it.

I actually think it’s really interesting how Homestuck’s version of Wise Guy presents Harry Anderson – John’s hero – as a clumsy, incompetent fool (p.629) while the real world Wise Guy describes him as charismatic and in control of the crowd. I say this with all the love in the world, but John has the charisma of the fake Harry Anderson and not the real, and he believes that of himself too. John picking a hero who is described in such a negative light speaks to the type of people he identifies with.

On page 82, which is both the Homestuck title card and the best evidence for John’s depression, he refers to the streets as ‘empty’, to the ‘voids keeping neighbors apart’, ‘hollow’, ‘Desolation’, to feeling something ‘missing’, ‘eluding’, a sense of ‘lack’, ‘Absence’, a ‘mystery dispersing’, a ‘black well’. All that imagery is packed into two paragraphs that do not describe a happy person. This sense of emptiness, distance, space and loss of something is what I most associate with depression, and it provides a real contrast to those autistic meltdown moments where John is feeling too much.

John explicitly says that he feels trapped in his room (p.30) but I think he’s actually trapped in a mindset, and the room or house is more like the physical manifestation of that. That’s not a criticism of him, as I think that can be equally hard to break out of. I have talked a lot about growing up in the suburbs being terrible for finding community, but there is another angle. The Egberts are comfortably middle class, Dad has a car, money, flexible enough work schedule to take John’s birthday off, and supports John’s interests. There are probably computer programming clubs or amateur magic classes in a nearby city, and if John said he wanted to join something like that, I bet Dad would support him. John’s depression makes it impossible for him to even imagine a better situation, much less take steps to grasp it – he needed to be seconds from death for his survival instincts to kick in and make him take action.

I hope that answers your question! Again, I’d love to hear other people’s thoughts on this if anyone has different experiences or picked up on different John moments.

[pricechecktranslations]

Oh my god, I just discovered this series and it all seems so complicated. How do I get started?

It looks complicated because it's 15 years of content. You aren't supposed to absorb it all at once (be wary of anyone who tries to make you absorb it all at once with "Evillious 101" or "Evillious Explained" type videos. They will leave you more confused than just reading the books/watching the videos).

Everything in my mobile-friendly translation index post is listed by release order (with the most recent being at the bottom of the list and the oldest at the top). You're welcome to go through it in that order, if you like (it's what I personally recommend, and it's the simplest). If reading the novels right away seems daunting, you're also welcome to just go through Youtube or NicoNico and watch a few of the songs, see what interests you (but know that some of the later-released songs are more context-heavy). The novels should be read in release order, as that's the best narrative experience, but for the record the Daughter of Evil novel series is technically separate from the Deadly Sins of Evil novel series, and one can be enjoyed without the other (although again, you will be missing a lot of context if you skip any of it).

For a note on the songs--some of the songs have official promotional videos which function sort of like mini "movies" of the songs' content. Many of them also have fan-made promotional videos, some of which are very involved and invoke fan-theories or headcanons. Do not get them mixed up or you will be even more confused.

[cheapshrimpysheep]

Happy Birthday - Kalim Al-Asim

In celebration of Kalim's birthday, here is a list of the things I've written with him. 🦦🥳

🦦 ONESIE PARTY

SUMMARY: Ace and Deuce, with a hint from Cater and financially support from Kalim, gave you a costume made Grim onesie. And decided to throw a surprise (to only you) onesie party at Ramshackle Dorm and invite all the students you knew. Onesies were the mandatory dress code!

🦦 YOU SHOWED UP!

SUMMARY: How would they react to seeing you in the crowd and what might happen after the show.

🦦 DANCE WITH ME

SUMMARY: The fairies left without the Fairy Gala decorations. Before the students take them down the next day, he sees an opportunity in the evening to invite you to meet him at the Botanical Garden.

🦦 5 LOVE LANGUAGES

SUMMARY: A person doesn’t just have one love language, but these are the ones I think would be the most predominant in each of them. In Ortho’s case, at least, this is platonic.

🦦 FIRST DATE - SCARABIA

SUMMARY: What would your first date with him be like? I know first dates might not go so well, but let’s pretend these are different. ;)

🦦 SENDING LOVE - PART 2

SUMMARY: How do they react to seeing you make a heart with your hands for them in the classroom? And how do they reciprocate you?

REQUESTS:

🦦 RESCUING YOU

"Ghost Bride themed request: Instead of Idia being at risk of being whisked away to Unholy matrimony, it is instead the reader, A.KA the boys of your choices crush, being whisked away to a ghostly honeymoon. (...)"

🦦 FIGHT “TRAINING”

“Could you write Kalim sparring with a reader who's a good fighter?(...)”

“But the whole sparring thing is very lighthearted and fun, since Kalim is not really interested in fighting anyone (especially the person he has a crush on, wink wink) and his fighting partner is not interested in hurting him either. Everything just turns into them being silly and getting into a tickle fight instead or something.”

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[vwritesaus]

It is no secret to anyone who knows him that Alastair Carstairs is an exceptional cook. Armed with the knowledge passed down from his mother and Risa, he felt it was his duty to keep the Persian traditions alive in their family, and the only way he felt comfortable doing it was through cooking. It was his escape when the piano keys felt slimy and sticky under his fingertips, and when his thumb and index fingers slowly became more and more smudged with ink stains from the mundane newspapers. Cordelia was the taste tester every time, no matter how burnt or salty or under seasoned his food was. He could trust her to give him an honest critique—and she always did, without preamble.       ‘Dadash, did you empty the entire Dead Sea into this? My tongue is burning.’       ‘Oh, this is better than last time! Just needs more chilli, it’s a bit on the mild side.’       ‘Alastair, this is extremely chewy. It’s meant to be softer, no?’       Though he would roll his eyes and pretend to be offended by every one of his sister’s comments, Alastair was glad for it all. It was their little pocket of solidarity in an otherwise distant relationship. Alastair’s own doing, of course, but he felt it necessary at the time.       He was four years old when he first showed an interest, according to Sona. By eleven, Alastair was comfortable enough to cook a couple of simple dishes without any help. By fifteen, he was a self-proclaimed master. Yes, he made mistakes sometimes—as all good cooks do—but he knew his way around a kitchen, just as Cordelia knew her way around Cortana. Naturally it was something he kept to himself: if he had disclosed to any of the boys who bullied him at the Shadowhunter Academy that he, a male, loved and knew how to cook, and was taught how to by the women in his life, it would have given them yet another few reasons to belittle and assault him.       Being his father’s son and a boy with darker skin was already too many reasons. So Alastair kept his passion quiet, known only to his mother, his sister, and Risa. He’s sure Elias never knew, for if he had, Alastair is certain he would have put a stop to it somehow. All it took was one remark to have Alastair give up and push it down. His love for piano and singing, for instance.       But Alastair and Cordelia made it a regular occurrence to take over the kitchen and get under Risa’s feet, in her words. He cherishes those memories, where flour would coat the front of his waistcoat and parts of Cordelia’s hair, and the fragrant aroma of cinnamon, cardamom and clove would fill the entire room alongside their laughter. They were just some of the good things he held onto whilst at the Academy.       But the Academy days are no more, and Elias’s domineering presence has fizzled out through fire and ash. Alastair is free to do whatever he wants to do and be whoever he wants to be, and cooking is only a part of it.

continue reading on ao3

~

well well, it has been a long time, hasn't it??

but here i am, back for good hopefully!! and with a wee fic i wrote for my bestest girl @drunkonimagination for her birthday back in july ✨ it's based on one of our first interactions together before we hit the dms and the hill i will die on that is alastair carstairs is great at cooking but a terrible baker. only just got around it posting it jkahdjasd. hope you all enjoy it, and i'll be back with some more fics soon!!

also pls ignore the title, it's the best thing i could come up with :')

~

tagging people who might be interested: @edwinspaynes @purplebass @angeldaisies @faithfromanewperspective @tessherongraystairs @celias

let me know if you’d like to be added to or removed from the tag list!!

[hornsbeforehalos]

Anytime, Sweetheart (Remastered)- Part Two

Pairing: JDM x OFC (RPF)SERIES WARNINGS: (not specific to each chapter): violence, implied sexual assault, drug use, drinking, smut, murder, cursing, age-gap relationships, power dynamics, angst, slight slow burn, cheating... will update warnings as needed. AUTHOR'S NOTE: this is a rewrite! I originally wrote this, which can still be found in my master list, years and years ago and finally have decided to spruce it up a bit. This will be in third person POV and updated to be less... cringy as the original. As of right now there are only two chapters rewritten but if anyone shows interest, I will continue :) Please let me know if you would like to be tagged. I haven't written anything serious in years so this is me dipping my toes back in :) Face credit for OC is Taylor Momsen :) Tag List: @coffee-obsessed-writer@kazosa@lovealways-j@lovetusk@sorenmarie87

The next morning, Kylin was woken up by her screaming niece jumping on top of her over and over again as she laid on the couch.

“Birdie, why do you hate me?” She groaned as she pulled the little girl into her chest for a hug. 

“Auntie KyKy! Wake up!” Justice squealed. Her loud, shrill, voice made Kylin wince, her hangover in full effect.

“Shh, child, let’s go back to sleep” Kylin replied as she squeezed her close. She buried her face into the tiny terror’s hair while the girl continued to protest against her. 

“You stink!” Justice yelled, scrunching her nose as she pushed away from her aunt. 

“No, you stink!” Kylin countered as she rolled onto her side, her back against the couch cushions. 

“Nuh-uh!” The little girl insisted.

“Yuh uh!” Kylin answered before she shoved the child off the couch. The girl landed with an “oof,’ followed by a shrill giggle that made Kylin wince once more. 

“Go find your mother, spawn,” Kylin instructed as she threw her legs over the side of the couch to stand up. 

She made her way towards the bathroom with one hand pressed against the back of her head and the other against the bridge of her nose to suppress the throbbing that had been induced by her wonderful niece. She could feel the oil seeping from her pores, and when she brought her hand from her face to rub her eyes in her sleepy stupor, she felt the black smudge that had at one point been her eyeliner smear across her face. 

“Well, good morning to you, sleeping beauty,” Came a gruff voice as the door to the bathroom opened before Kylin could reach for the knob.

Standing before her, in nothing but a very low-slung cotton towel, was Jeffrey.

“Holy shit,” She managed to mumble in surprise, her brain half fried from not only her hangover, but the unexpected view. 

“Sorry, love,” Jeffrey chuckled as he moved around her, his fist gripped tight to keep the fabric around his waist together.

“Uh, no worries,” Kylin responded, entering the bathroom. Jeffrey made his way towards the guest room, and Kylin couldn’t help the way her eyes followed him down the hall. 

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

The shower was life changing. All the sweat, dirty, grime, even her headache, was washed away. While she dried herself off with a big, fluffy towel, she realized she had forgotten her backpack containing all of her clothes. She wrapped the towel around her body and opened the door to go look for it. 

She turned the corner and almost ran smack dab into Jeffrey’s chest. (Which was now covered by a worn out Harley Davidson tee.)

“Oh fuck, s-s-sorry,” She gasped. Embarrassment flooded through her as she looked up at him. He wore a smirk on his lips, and he gripped her by the shoulders to steady her. 

“A-hem” Was suddenly heard from behind Jeff, and Kylin peaked her head around his frame to see Jensen standing in the hallway with her backpack lifted up in the air by his index finger, “Looking for this?”

“Uh, yeah, thanks, Bubs,” Kylin answered, her blush growing deeper as she stepped around Jeffrey to grab the backpack from Jensen. 

She ducked into the nearest empty guest room, and Jensen followed her.

“What’s that on your neck, Ky?” Her brother asked. He ducked his head and gestured towards her neck.

Her hand automatically went to her throat and pressed against the newly formed bruise from the day before.

“Oh, uh, I had on a necklace yesterday that was, like, super tight, and I accidentally ripped it off, and uh.. Yeah…” She trailed off before turning her back to him to rummage through her stuff. She pulled out a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt, as well as a bra and underwear.

 “Um, a little privacy here, big bro?” She laughed nervously, looking over her shoulder toward him before going back to her clothes on the bed. 

“Hmm, yeah, whatever.” Jensen replied, suspicion laced in his tone. She heard him set out a deep sigh before his footsteps retreated from the room.

A few minutes later, as she pulled her shirt over her head, Robbie’s concerned voice came from the door way, “Jesus Christ, Ky, What the fuck?”

She spun around and quickly pulled down her shirt, just in time to see Jeffrey walk past Rob in the hallway with an unreadable look on his face. He quickly averted his gaze from their direction, and increased his pace to his room. Kylin stepped over to Rob and jerked him into the room before she slammed the door closed. 

“Fuck, Robbie, what the hell?” Kylin growled in annoyance.

“What the hell is this?!” He asked in reply. He turned her around, and pulled on the hem of her shirt to reveal the bruises scattered across her ribs and back. His other hand gently trailed over the yellow and greenish marks, “He did this?”

She pulled away from him and scowled as she faced him, her arms wrapping around her body for comfort. 

“God damnit, Kylin.” He whispered angrily. He lifted her chin up with his fingertips to examine the darkening mark Jensen had mentioned earlier. She turned her head to the left as his fingers ghosted over her skin, her eyes trained away from him as tears began to form. 

“Shut up,” was the only thing she was able to choke out before she crumbled into Rob’s arms. He picked her up and carried her to the bed and held her as she cried for half an hour. 

The safe feeling of being in Rob’s embrace calmed her, and she wiped her eyes after the last tears had finally fallen. “Promise me you won’t let this happen again. Please.” Robbie begged, his voice cracking as he restrained tears of his own. 

“Promise.” She sniffled. 

He looked her in the eyes again for a moment and let a tear run down his face before he nodded and brought her head back to his chest. They laid like that or a little bit longer while they both steadied themselves. 

“Better?” He asked after a while, patting her on the back as he pulled away.

“Better.” She answered with a nod, using the sleeve of her shirt to wipe her nose again.

Rob stood and pulled her up by the hand. He linked their fingers together and led them towards the door. She followed him to the dining room, where it seemed everyone had already gathered as the morning routine of breakfast preparations had begun.

The moment she sat down at the kitchen island, Justice led the Padalecki boys on an assault against Kylin’s legs, equipped with foam swords. 

“KyKy, will you make us pancakes?” Thomas asked while giving her a set of puppy dog eyes that rivaled his father’s. The other two children soon followed suit with the same stare, knowing she couldn’t deny them anything. 

Kylin let out a huff of exasperation and hopped down from the stool she had been perched on to make her way past Dani and Gen to the pantry. She ignored their snickers at how easily she was broken down by the tiny demons. 

“Need any help there, darlin’?” A rough drawl came from behind her as she was mixing in chocolate chips into the pancake batter.

Jeffrey stepped up beside her at the counter and peered into the bowl while licking his lips. 

“No, sir,” Kylin replied cockily while she continued to stir, “If there’s one thing I’m good at, it's this. I can make these bitches in my sleep.” 

She moved from her place beside him to the island where the stove was to check the temperature of the oil in the pan. When she turned back around, Jeffrey was standing there with his finger in his mouth, batter dripping down the length of it. 

“Mmm-mmm-mmm-” He said, furrowing his brows and shaking his head back and forth in pleasure. 

She couldn’t help that her breath hitched, or the bright red shade that flushed her skin at the sight. 

“Hey, Jeff, I think your car’s here.” Jensen grunted as he entered the room, an annoyed look on his face as he glared at Kylin. 

Jeffrey pulled his finger from his mouth as he pushed himself off the counter with a roll of his eyes. 

“Alright,” He chuckled as he wiped his finger on a dish towel before he grabbed his jacket from the back of the nearby chair and shrugged it on.

“See you all later,” He waved to everyone, but gave Kylin a wink when their eyes met. He showed his teeth in a sweet smile before he headed towards the door.

With a sigh, Kylin turned her attention back to the pancakes.

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

The day went on, spent by playing with the kids and lounging on the couch with the girls. Kylin had received the phone call that she had been wanting from her dad- he had been able to sneak into the apartment while Anthony was gone and had gathered up as much of her stuff as he could. He was about as oblivious to the situation as Jensen was, but he also had his suspicions as well.

Jared and Jensen had been sent to the grocery store with the kids, the adventure deemed “Mission Impossible” by the boys, so when the doorbell rang as Kylin was laying on the couch, she automatically assumed it was just them needing help getting stuff out of the truck.

As soon as the front door opened though, she realized how wrong she had been.

Anthony’s fist came colliding with her face, the force knocking her back. He flung the door the rest of the way open and staked the four feet into the house to the entrance of the hallway. He grabbed a fist full of Kylin’s hair and pulled her up to knee her in the ribs.

“Stupid” punch “Fucking” knee. “Bitch.” slap.

Kylin tried her hardest to push him away and fight back, but the man was over twice her size. She screamed as loud as she could, knowing someone had to have heard the commotion.

Suddenly, the very distinct sound of a gun being cocked was heard above her, and they both looked up to see Danneel holding her pistol at the ready, aimed directly at Anthony’s head.

“Get out of my house.” Danneel seethed, a dangerous glint in her eyes.

It was a big enough distraction, thankfully, for Rob and Richard to rush him and get him to the ground. Neither of the two men stopped there, though. 

Rich held Anthony by the throat as Rob clobbered his face repeatedly with his fists. It wasn’t until Jared and Jensen busted into the hallway and pulled everyone apart that the chaos finally subsided.

“Oh look, it’s Hollywood, here to save the day.” Anthony spat the blood that had pooled into his mouth onto Jared’s shirt as he was hoisted to his feet. 

Rob and Rich rushed to Kylin, and Rob picked her up as Rich protectively positioned himself in front of them. Kylin held onto Rob for dear life as sobs wracked through her battered body.

“You will never, ever put your fucking hands on her again.” Gen raged. She walked up to the man and gave him another slap to the face of her own. 

“I’m sorry, you did what?” Jensen took the gun out of Danneel’s hand and pushed her and Gen behind him. “I know I didn’t hear that right.” 

“Fuck you. Not your fucking business what I do with my woman.” Anthony responded, spitting more blood. 

Jensen brought the barrel of the pistol to rest on Anthony’s temple. Everyone held their breath.

“Jensen, stop.” Kylin managed to squeak, “I’m not worth it.”

Her brother turned his head towards her in disbelief. He moved past Rich to grab her face in his hands and turn her head to look at him before he spoke, “Don’t ever say that again. You are worth so much more than this.” He kissed her hair before he turned back around and resumed his aim on Anthony. 

“You are so fucking lucky we don’t do cops, you know that?” Jensen snarked. He craned his head in order to be able to look Anthony in the eyes, “Well, for right now anyway.” 

Jensen took a step back before he flicked the gun’s safety on and held it out for Danneel to take. He grabbed Anthony out of Jared’s grasp and pulled him towards the front door, “You will get the fuck out of my house and away from my family. You will not go anywhere near them, or you will find out how much my sister means to me and how little your life does.” 

In one adrenaline-fueled heave, Anthony was sent flying out of the front door. Jensen and Jared stormed after him and proceeded to kick the ever-living shit out of him until he was back in his car. He fell into the driver’s seat, a bloody mess, before speeding off. 

The boys rushed back inside and Jensen scooped Kylin from Rob’s arms in a huff. He soothed her crying and kissed the top of her head as he carried her to the guest room with her stuff. He laid her down on the bed before climbing in with her and wrapping her up in his arms. 

“I’m so sorry, bubbah” She sobbed.

“No, no sissy. I should be apologizing. I knew. I fuciing knew and I didn’t do anything about it. I should have beat his ass the first time you came down here. I’m so fucking sorry. Everyone’s gonna fucking kill me.” He breathed through his own tears into her hair. He rocked them both back and forth. 

They laid there for a while and cried together. He did his best to comfort her while his own guilt tried to eat him up inside. Kylin let him know she wanted to be alone, so he decided it was probably smart to check on everyone and let them know she was okay for now. 

It took hours, but Kylin finally succumbed to the trauma and exhaustion, and fell asleep. 

[reginaregen]

Iolanda's Heart - Bucky

As they entered the house, Pietro asked, "Can I take a shower?"

Violet, while locking the door, answered the man heading towards the bedroom, "Make yourself comfortable. Your pajamas are in my wardrobe. You can get the towel from the cupboard in the bathroom. I'll make us some tea."

"I don't want tea!" the boy shouted. While searching for the pajamas he had left at Violet's for sleepovers, he added, "We're having a girls' night! We're going to eat a ton of junk food and drink wine."

"You know there’s no junk food in my house."

As a gust of wind swept through the middle of the living room, the girl rolled her eyes. When the same wind came back, Pietro had left a bunch of junk food packages on the kitchen table. "Take another look."

"This is quite the show-off, though!"

As the boy moved back to the bedroom, he scolded her, "Stop whining!" He was actually worried about her. If he discovered that she was calorie-counting again, he would lose his mind. Also that crush Violet mentioned today earlier... Another possibility he was considering was Violet’s secret platonic crush being someone from the Avengers. Vision was clear. Tony was old. Clint was married. Steve had once mentioned wanting to take Violet on a date, but Pietro had begged him not to, confessing his own love for Violet, and Steve had backed off. Still, he could sometimes sense Steve’s lingering interest in the girl. If Violet liked him, there was no barrier between them, which took Steve off the list of suspects. Strange was the demon—Violet had him using his mind to maintain extra calmness and concentration during challenging surgeries, so they spent a lot of time together, which really bothered Pietro. Strange was always flirting with Violet. Violet flirted back, but often it was just to irritate Pietro. Pietro had told her he didn’t like Strange. His aim was to keep her away from him, but it had backfired. The first person she was closest to among the Avengers was Wanda, but since she had moved to a country house with her boyfriend and chosen a quiet life, Strange had taken her place.

Pietro? Are you crazy? They had known each other from their days in Hydra's torture chambers, when they were just little kids. Violet had slapped the nine-year-old Pietro who tried to kiss her during their first encounter. Pietro had fallen in love with the six-year-old girl who delivered the slap. Over the years, this experience had become a story Violet would laugh about. For Pietro, it had grown into an unrelenting love. As love eventually blended with affection, respect, trust, and peace, Pietro realized he was cursed to never be able to love anyone but Violet for eternity.

Not finding his pajamas on the top shelf of the wardrobe, he bent down and opened the drawers. In the first drawer he opened, there were socks. Without looking in the second drawer, he reached in but immediately recognized what he had touched and closed it back without looking. He had touched the girl's underwear. He felt guilty and excited. The excitement only made him feel more guilty. He tried to calm down for a few seconds and then shouted from the room towards the living room, "Honey, I can’t find my pajamas."

"They’re exactly in where you put them!" the girl yelled back.

As footsteps approached, Pietro pressed his lips together to avoid laughing. Violet entered the room and shook her index finger at him, "If you call me 'honey' one more time today, I'll castrate you. That way, we'll literally have a girls' night!"

"How about my sweet little girl?"

"Pietro!"

"How's my little world? Because you’re so tiny?"

Violet giggled, "Pietro, Django!"

"Or maybe something sweeter? Let’s think about it. Actually, you have the potential to be a pie. Tough and crispy on the outside, soft enough to lure someone to hypnosis on the inside..."

"Shut up!" She stopped him with a flushed face, trying not to laugh. She bent over to the wardrobe and handed Pietro’s gray pajama set to him, "Can you find the towels?"

"I don’t think so," he said, following Violet to the bathroom. The girl grabbed a towel from the mirrored, tall bathroom cabinet and, as she closed the mirrored door, saw Pietro taking off his shirt right behind her. She swallowed, "How many times have I told you not to undress in front of me? God!"

"I only took off my shirt. It’s nothing you haven’t seen before. You’re so sensitive today. Wait, am I your secret platonic crush?" He bumped into her as she turned back to hand him the towel. He tilted his head to look carefully at the girl, who was two heads size shorter than him.

As Violet stared at him, she poked his chest with the towel, "Do you think I’m such a horrible person that I’d fall in love with my best friend and betray his trust?"

"If you loved me, it wouldn’t be horrible at all! Betraying my trust? You don't know what you are talking about."

Instead of following the breadcrumbs Pietro had left as clues, the girl didn’t even understand or see them. As always, she didn’t get it. While Pietro took the towel from her, Violet placed her hands on his body, which was cold in summer and warm in winter due to his super-fast metabolism, "God! You’re like a furnace!"

Pietro, trying to hide the movement in parts of his body he didn’t want to move at the moment, practically squealed, "You’re like a refrigerator! I could swear there’s no blood circulating in your body."

"Shut up." The girl moaned with pleasure and rested her cheek on his bare chest, "So warm," she said in a drowsy voice.

Pietro was making a huge effort to stay calm, "You’ve absorbed enough warmth, cold vampire!" he gently pushed her away, "If you don’t mind, I’m going to take a shower. I don’t want to delay our girls' night any longer."

"Okay, but please sleep with me tonight! I’ll give you the world! God! I love having a living furnace."

When the girl left the bathroom on tiptoe, Pietro leaned against the locked door. He took deep breaths, thinking about how much longer he could endure such pain. He wished he were Violet’s platonic crush. Sometimes he imagined scenarios where the girl came to him and confessed it before falling asleep at night. He allowed himself a few silent tears when he took his shower. For the rest of the night, he was determined to find out who that platonic crush was from Violet’s own mouth.

At the same moments, while poor Pietro had no idea what she was doing, Violet was texting Bucky finally. It was not a sudden courage, she was just sick of waiting.

Violet: I need to tell you something. Bucky: I am listening. Violet: Okay. I’m saying it as it is. I have feelings for you. Bucky is typing... Stopped. Typing... Typing... Stopped... Typing... Typing... Typing... Typing... Typing... Typing... Typing... Typing... Typing... Typing... Typing... Typing... Typing... Typing... Stopped... After fifteen minutes of seeing the typing message, the reply she received was not even close to what she had imagined. If without the adrenaline coursing through her veins from excitement, she might have collapsed and fainted. Bucky: Look, I’m flattered. Seriously. Bucky: The wisest thing to do in a situation like this Bucky:would be to say, "I have feelings for you too," I know, but unfortunately, I don’t feel the same way. Bucky: But I’ll be here whenever you need me.

Violet didn’t remember what happened next. Everything had turned into a complete mess. After giving a simple response like, “Oh, really? Okay,” she had written a paragraph explaining why she liked him. She had also added a reminder of the time he had offered her money, saying, “For your golden heart.” In response, Bucky had written, “I used to be like you. I once fell in love with a girl and flew across the world on just plane tickets, only to watch her fall for another guy because he had money. You’ll lose this naivety over time, and it will be the best thing that ever happened to you, believe me. You’re not in love with me, Violet. You don’t even know me. We’ve communicated through writing far more than we have in the real world.”

Now, lying on the cold floor in a fetal position, sobbing and hiccupping, she didn’t even care that Pietro was reading through all of her message history. Everything was over. Her world had stopped. The only good thing in her life was gone forever. She wanted to confront Bucky and scream, “Why don’t you love me? Is it because I’m not tall, slender, and athletic? Is it because I’m not experienced enough to make a sex tape with you? Is it because I didn’t leave you for a more luxurious life and fly to the other side of the world like Yelena did?"

She had already forgotten about the boy standing over her with a towel around his waist, reading through all of her message history while ignoring the water dripping from his body onto the floor, but for Pietro, everything was just beginning. Bucky’s disgusting messages, his attempts to manipulate her… He reached the oldest messages. Bucky had written, “I just got back from the gym. I put in a lot of effort, but my mind is on you. I can’t seem to get you out of my head. Don’t worry, I’m not going to send you any nudes or anything, but I think we shouldn’t talk right now. I don’t want to do anything wrong. I might send that nude if we keep talking."

As Pietro’s stomach churned, he imagined hundreds of different ways to kill Bucky, who was playing with the girl like a cat with a mouse. For God’s sake! He had literally given her hope. Whenever Violet asked for more, he had confused her, using her lack of self-confidence to manipulate her.

He let go of the phone to avoid smashing it. He picked up the crying girl, who was howling on the floor like a wounded animal, and carried her to the bedroom. He could think of nothing but anger. He wanted revenge. He definitely wanted revenge, but more than that, the only thing he wanted was to shake Violet by the shoulders and scream, “I love you!” “I love you, do you understand? You don’t need anyone else! You don’t deserve to be played with by scraps of someone’s love. The only thing you deserve is to be overwhelmed with love!”

But he couldn’t do it. Instead, he lay down in bed with the girl who sought refuge in his arms and allowed her to continue crying, her tight grip leaving marks on his arm.

“Violet…” He rested his cheek against the girl’s hair.

Violet hiccupped, “Pie…” She couldn’t control her breath. “It hurts… so much,” she said, placing her fist over her heart. “I didn’t even know… my heart could hurt this much.”

Me neither, he thought. He wasn’t unfamiliar with this pain. He couldn’t decide which was worse: the sight of his true love crying for another man in his arms, or experiencing the same pain for someone else.

[callibones]

uhhh hh ..... hello! this is the same anon who sent in that ask about object camps. the camps you suggested sound really interesting! im a little too scared to join them for now haha but they sound really cool. they will rotate in my mind for a while i think HGFDSFGHJGFDSDFGH other than that .. 1 . i came across the wiki camp two and it looked so creative and interesting to me! i dont program in css that often anymore but the site makes me wanna go over and put in a bunch of pages. problem is.. i don't know how to Apply? or Do Anything? rn the site is locked for voting but just in general i tried reading the rules but still couldn't understand how it worked. if you knew anything about it that'd be nice. it also seems to have a discord server..? again im scared to check myself but if youre in it i wanna know whether it's a nice space to be in.

2 . uhhghgfdghj i peered through the rest of the blog and found the shelled one blaseball fic you posted ? and i think im really Normal about it. So after reading that i now trust your fanfic opinions. are there any other blaseball fics you'd strongly recommend? and uh general.. uh, evil mind controlly fics would be really nice too (the book of bill is also sort of ruining me along with this so i am truly looking for ANYTHING and like omg hbdxszexrdcfdsxrctvdxszaf) and thats all i wanted to ask you! sorry this is getting REALLY LONG i wish you well and i am So Sorry for bothering you!

HELLO AGAIN! not botherin me at all. :-] i was hopin youd find that answer.... i made sure to answer it at the same time u sent the question so you'd have a MAXIMUM CHANCE of findin it, and u Did! so Yay! welcome back. im going to tag my answers to your Post's with 🩸🟪 so we Never Get Separated Again. but i want you to know.... i don't bite! i literally can't on account of my face is a monitor. so if you wanna chat, feel free to dm me! you seem like a really fun person and we clearly have a lotta interest's in common so Consider That: An Option.

ANYHOO.

1) the wiki camp 2 is ABSOLUTELY a welcoming community. in fact, check this out: here's an index of plainly written explanations of various community in-jokes, to ensure nobody's left confused! while i'm not super active on the discord due to hyperfixating on single spaces at a time like some sort of cryptid, i have a lot of wonderful friends in the community and i'd wholeheartedly call it nice.

you don't have to apply to write, either! while i don't think there's an ETA yet on when the wiki's re-opening, whenever it does you'll be able to make an account for free and start creating to your heart's content! sometimes people who do that even get roped into the camp due to Token Shenanigans....

2) look. i get it. how much do i get it? the post you're talking about was written by my bill cipher fictive. and guess what book made me pick THAT thing up? we're in the same boat. i'm (RELATIVELY) normal 'round these parts, but if you do end up dropping me a line, maybe you'll happen upon some of my stuff? just sayin'. but as for what i can do for ya at the desk here...

thing is, i actually haven't read that much blaseball fanfic. i know! i WANT to. i have a list, which i'll reblog with your special tag right after this. but my brain doesn't let me read a lotta long stuff these days, which is SUCKS! i might poke around some tags and see what i can find, but that spectacular shelled one fic's the only one of its kind i know.

if you wanna read something Long and Serious and Really Really Good that's haunted me for years, put your eyes on Oil and Water, the shoe thieves disaster marriage classic about grief and autism and family and other such things.

then read everything else that catches your fancy, and send me your picks! and hey. if anyone reading this wants to help a cute anon out and knows some fics (or wrote some fics) that fit the Bill i mean the bill, PLEASE lemme know!! i Understand wanting more evil mind control. it's kind of my whole thing. PLUS i'm literally the shelled one's favorite

[mekatrio]

JUMPING IN JOY!!! WOOHOO!!! AWESOME!!!!! i came across that resource bc i was curious about my belief of zelda being more popular in western countries than it is in japan, so i looked around the internet to see if anyone had made any studies or research on that, to 'prove'/'show' whether this is actually true. unfortunately i didnt come across any big study that explored this specifically, but i did find that im definitely not the only person who believes that zelda is more popular in western countries than it is in japan:

i came across that epic awesome resource from prev post because i was looking around for resources about this subject matter and was listing down whatever sources i could find about it. but since im going to be spending my time reading thru the resource from prev post, i think ill take a break from looking for other sources and just post what ive gathered already! this is what i hv found (under a read more cuz its long 🤭) :

- a newspaper clipping on webarchive published in december 1998 that talks about oot's success in the west (they anticipated to ship 1 million units but are now anticipating to ship 3 million units), and that nintendo had spent $10 million in marketing (idk if its domestic or overseas or overall marketing)

- nintendo's webpage listing the top 10 highest selling titles on their consoles from the nintendo ds and onwards. im pretty sure these are the global figures, not domestic. what's interesting to me is that, with the exception of wind waker hd (wii u title that sold 2.37 million units), there had been no zelda titles that entered the top 10 highest selling titles on a nintendo console, at least not until the nintendo switch w botw + totk. and not on this page at least.. maybe theyd be on the top 10 for previous consoles like the n64 and gamecube 🤔

- youtube video Obscure in the West, Big in Japan by Retrohistories that talks about this study; Making Local video game history index by Akito Inoue!!! now this is super super super super interesting to me. to sum it up super densely, basically researcher Akito Inoue goes thru lists in both english and japanese, lists like Metacritic's Top 100 Games and Famitsu's Highest Ranked Games and many many other lists like these, and gives the listed titles a score out of 100. each title gets two scores, one for it's 'popularity' (possibly not the right term) in the west, and one for it's 'popularity' in japan. bla bla bla many statistical contingencies and whatnot, the video and this study explains this much better than i ever could, but essentially this info can be plotted on a graph, where the higher on the y axis = more acclaimed in the west, and the higher x axis = more acclaimed in japan. and this is what the zelda titles look like!

the 'most acclaimed titles' in the west vs japan are so different!!! thats so interesting!!! also this study was last updated in 2018 so thats something to consider. but its like wow.... why is it so different???

also not zelda related but IDC, but this is what final fantasy titles look on this graph!

its so interesting....!! what could be the reason for these disparities!!!! why does the west hate my boy squall!!!

- this site that lists down lifetime sales of various zelda titles, published in july 2023 and if im not misunderstanding, was published by J. Clement!

- and lastly, a bunch of resources from Ishaan Sahdev, who wrote The Legend of Zelda - A Complete Development History which i posted about in prev!! the resources are as followed:

- Breath of the Wild is the Highest Selling Zelda in Japan in 19 Years on the resetera forums, with this nifty graph made from info from Media Create, a japanese company that gathers and analyzes video game data:

- and this article, Zelda: Breath of the Wild is Beating All Expectations in Japan on Sahdev's website which uses this same graph, and talks about botw's domestic success in more detail (havent completely read this yet)

- two other posts on the resetera forums also by Sahdev, which have these useful figures:

- The Legend of Zelda - Series Sales page on the zelda wiki, which is maintained by Sahdev! (would you look at that, there are actual decent pages on this wiki!)

- and of course, The Legend of Zelda - A Complete Development History, which i believe will go into more depth on how Sahdev acquired these figures, which im very excited to read about!! this dude rocks!!!!

[vixnovacoda]

Doctor's Medicine || Chapter 3

Hannibal Lecter x Original Character

Word Count: 3.6k

CW/TW: NSFW 18+, graphic, disturbing content, dissociation, canon-typical violence.

Summary: Amongst his list of patients, Doctor Hannibal Lecter finds an interesting character in his latest, Emma Darcy, the author of a bestselling crime series whose mind is host to something clawing to be free. The two become inexplicably drawn to each other and things progress as Emma encounters a world of death. But the question is, who will change who?

[Chapter 1][Chapter 2]

[ao3 version here]

Blood.

Red seeped onto a white sheet.

A tiny dot. A pile of paper.

A big fuss.

“It’s just a paper cut.” Emma. “You worry too much,” she declared.

“I worry too much?” A woman – this one known to her – hovered over Emma. First aid kit opened. “You don’t worry enough. You got blood on my brand new manuscript,” she said, applying a fetched bandaid to Emma’s index. The woman continued, saying with small annoyance, “I swear, your day job has made you immune to blood. All those dead bleeding out.”

Emma disagreed. “Actually, most bodies I examine don’t bleed on account of them bei—”

“Don’t correct me,” babbled the brunette. “Correcting is my job, not yours.”

She glanced at the woman as the adhesive attached itself to her.  “I’m just saying—”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Unless I was on anticoagulants—”

She stared down Emma broodingly.

A sensitive matter. Blood always had been. Real gore, medicine, hospitals; the whole lot. It took that nostril flare to remind her. Emma knew her well; knew that the black hairs on her V-neck were from her cat; knew that she hadn’t recently washed it; knew how her grief spiralled. Emma knew her by their differences. It’s why they suited each other. A difference that she sometimes forgot as a result of their relationship. Her shoulders dropped with a sigh. “Thank you for your concern, Alex,” she strained, “for having clean sheets of paper to edit instead of bloodied ones. How will I ever cope without you?” Emma’s voice played a joke – how could she not? They were friends, after all.

Alex’s bright whites bared themselves, a chuckle escaping past the gaps. “You know, sometimes, I ask the same thing.” A shake of the curly head.

Joke or not. 

Neither party knew.

———

Rooms often spoke. They were fractioned halves of the dweller, Emma learned. Jack Crawford’s office was cold. Not professionally cold, but air pressure cold. The FBI – mainly Crawford – placed high pressure on catching their killer before he struck again and sought probably the two most unstable minds under his care, Will and Emma, to pinpoint the who.

Emma noted the few dozen faces they had narrowed it down to. Men, middle-aged, medical backgrounds here and there. Anyone who bought surgical equipment. Anyone who bought a Le Belle Mort book. Anyone who was a fan.

They were scrambling for connections.

Then Agent Crawford drew up a plan. Interviews. Though he spoke to both of them, he angled towards Will, face dropped and slanted. Pressure bred trust issues (professionalism called equality); he preferred Will, for the matter. Not that Emma opposed. If anyone were to conduct talks about possible suspects, there should only be one non-FBI agent there. Unnecessary to drag another outsider in. She’d be better off that way. Easier to push Will from her field of view from the outside than be too involved in their conversation.

Those few things contained all she recalled that morn. That is, other than passing by the psychiatrist, who went into the office after her and the shuffling of her injured hand from behind the other to a pocket. In fewer words, Emma was a blur; hardly of note.

Doctor Hannibal Lecter – on the other hand – stood sharp in the minds of whoever saw his eccentric European self, plaid suits cutting scars. Worth never forgetting. It was him who Crawford wanted to hear. He, that was Emma’s evaluator. Besides the good words of others, Jack Crawford didn’t know what to make of Emma. He didn’t want to break all the fine china.

———

The office – still cold – hung high-tensioned wires upon Hannibal’s arrival. Remnants from the previous arrangement were meticulously strung. Pressure had made well-tuned strings. Take Will, for instance, as he moved around his seat, with great effort, to draw distance between his and Emma’s exits. His action was a precarious note.

“Actually, Will, stay. I could use your perspective on this,” said Agent Crawford while Hannibal sat down.

Will shifted. “On what?”

The soul-patch-wearing agent shared a glance with the psychiatrist; permission.

“The matter of Emma Darcy,” answered Dr. Lecter.

It was his turn to look at Hannibal and then Crawford, head tilted. “I’ve already said my thoughts about her. She’s not the killer,” said Will, perplexed.

“This isn’t in terms of the case.” A hand motioned towards the remaining seat as Crawford finished. “But Emma as a person.”

“That’s not my department, Jack. I’m not her friend.”

“That’s already clear. The two of you have been distancing yourselves from each other.” Crawford leant across, elbows propped up. “You’re supposed to be working together. No one’s asking you to be friends,” he told Will, his tone analogous to that of a father reprimanding a child.

It irked him, Hannibal noted. Strained Will’s voice. “She is distancing herself from me.”

“Why?”

“I… I don’t know.” Guilt twisted his throat and pulled at his jaw. “Maybe…” His mind drifted to an answer.

“You’ve done nothing wrong, Will,” declared Dr. Lecter, jumping to Will’s defence, who ran a hand through his messy hair out of habit (Emma had the same tendency lately).

“It feels like I have.” A hard swallow. His words got the better of him. “People barely tolerate me as is. Emma doesn’t acknowledge me. She avoids crossing my path when she can and speaks only when she has to. I’m some sort of ghost to her.”

Scrutinising eyes watched each bated breath. “It is possible, given the circumstance of your abilities, Will, that she sees what you do as you dive into this killer’s mind. You assume a shed skin, a ghost of the killer during the execution of their hunt. As far as Emma’s concerned, this person very well seeks to add her to his collection and is unable to look past the form you adorn,” Dr. Lecter explained with an unwavering inflexion in his description, “it is not you she is scared of, it is this killer.”

Will’s fingers stretched along the armrest and slowly retracted. A new perspective created an uneasy silence.

“Do you think she’s stable, Dr. Lecter?” queried Agent Crawford.

Position changing, Hannibal took a stance which faced Agent Crawford and Will. “There is not much I can say without breaking patient confidentiality. However,” he declared, fixing his tie ever so slightly. “Her life hangs in the balance; she is afraid.”

“The frightened often make brash decisions. Are you saying she’s unstable?”

“She acts as anyone of us would in such a scenario. I’d say that makes her stable, wouldn’t you?” Hands clasped. Lips pursed. Today, his person suit was tailored to adjustment. None could see the seams he kept hidden. None had reason to question his judgement.

Broken free from his thoughts, Will held his mouth agape to question what had bothered him from the moment he had been pulled into this meeting. “I thought you already cleared her, Jack. What is the point of this?”

Crawford rested his back against the chair, staring down the two in renewed seriousness. “I got her cleared because we have nothing. She has a good track record, she’ll see something we cannot, and we need all the help we can get. The point of this is – after the event at the crime scene – I need to know whether she won’t be a liability out in the field,” he clarified.

Tension dominated the room. Carried with it was a smell – emotions and sensations often did. The notes contained trace amounts of iron and sweetness. Tension smelt like blood. It stained whatever it touched. “I’d advise against not letting her back out. The mind is best put to rest when it has a full picture. It will only make things worse to let her see the partial and not the whole.” Hannibal broke the quiet first, his answer; precise and ready.

“Well, I disagree.” Will snapped his head at Hannibal. “She could come out worse.”

“Isolation makes for a fonder fear. Keeping her here could create equal damage.”

“Then she shouldn’t be on the case at all.”

“Neither should some of us in that case.”

A long blink; Agent Crawford had hoped they’d agree. “Honestly, I’d much rather she didn’t, in case she contaminates the evidence again. However, I find myself inclined to trust your word, Doctor. If she is to go, then she is to do so while accompanied,” he resigned, his mind made up. He had heard enough and dismissed them as a drawn-out note played. Sombre and conflicted.

Will examined Hannibal with uncertainty. He had glimpsed what Emma’s mind was like. He had to object to the Doctor’s opinion on the matter. There was no knowing what would happen the next time; her desperation made unpredictability. Surely the man who had her mind served on a silver platter could see that as well.

None could tell what note Hannibal’s actions played, for there wasn’t one. He did not play anything.

He conducted.

———

Outside, pen scratched sprawlings onto paper, churning out words from chicken scratch. Breeze dared to disturb the contents of Emma’s notebook and sought peeks into her mentality. It reminded her of home. It reminded her of a dear friend – which didn’t help, considering how she was trying to avoid checking her phone. Except here, she retained a certain anonymity. Passersby didn’t recognise her at a glance (her town was small, the type where everyone knew everyone and you always had something to say, usually about the weather). They didn’t question her need to write them out on paper. They simply let her be.

A shadow cascaded beside her (tall, six foot, she wrote). “Lost in thought again, are we Emma?” said the shadow (Hannibal…).

She bookmarked the page using her thumb. “Getting an actual breath of fresh air, this time,” Emma rectified slyly as she peeked at Hannibal’s impressive figure. Striking and welcoming. It grew hard for Emma to tear her polite gaze, finding only blurred edges while he blended into the sky. His tie: pale blue with a paisley design that drifted like clouds – the suit was a deep navy in contrast. Today was a sky day, always in sight but never within reach.

“May I?” Hannibal motioned to the bench she occupied.

She shuffled further along, and he took the vacant spot.

There was a greater difference between how close they had sat now and the night previously. A difference Emma found less distracting. Less static inducing. More open. It made for less awkward observations and, in that moment, the Doctor became a sight to decipher. His back held upright and, yet, not stiff. His brow stayed relaxed, and his hair affixed and unmoving. Hannibal Lecter had a natural disposition that tore him apart from others. 

“When I am stuck, I partake in the hobby of people-watching. The fresh air helps too,” said Emma, head turning. 

He followed her line of sight as her vision glided to the hustle and bustle of everyday life, keen on the exteriors people exhibited. “An engaging practice, watching the inside melt through to the outside,” commented Hannibal.

“A hobby of yours too, Dr. Lecter?” remarked Emma.

“It is,” he stated. “Though I confess, it had begun to be quite dull. The mind is a fascinating specimen and few contain a distinct one that suits my tastes.”

“There are many intriguing people in the world. Albeit they are rare to meet.” These were her thoughts about him. Ones she would have jotted down had he not been where he sat.

“These people are bound to make intriguing characters.”

The notebook shifted.

“Tell me, have you met any?” asked Hannibal, inquisitive.

Emma didn’t need to ponder. “Yes.” Doctor Hannibal Lecter: an intriguing character indeed. “You said begun, have you met someone who awoke a new hunger for you?” she pointed the question back at him with equal interest.

“Perhaps. I’ll tell you when I do.” No longer did the rest of the world occupy his sight. Hannibal landed his eyes on her. Intent. “Hobbies are often misused as a distraction and not clarification. What thought plagues you, Emma?”

The wind buffeted. “Mortality.” She put the book aside. “I have been pondering my mortality. Reflected on regret and sought to change things.” The phone lingered in her pocket. Her hand itched for its shape in her palm. Emma had to dig her nails through skin just to silence the urge. “I can feel it already, my mind cracking, bones reshaping, transforming. Slow and painful. I don’t know when it – I – will end.” A quake betrayed the stillness of her voice. She almost sounded sane – that was his doing.

“In our greatest moments of fear, we all seek a latch which we can grasp; to obtain control while the storm thrashes us apart. But, like the storm’s aftermath, change is inevitable.”

“Holding onto something implies being able to survive.”

“And are you surviving? Do you feel the adrenaline that life drips or the dread which death bleeds?”

Leaves fell under the harsh-turned weather. “I—” Emma faltered. 

The temperature dropped, and eerie grey clouds rolled in overhead. Time stopped and sped up; it all happened so fast. Where once a bright day existed, thunder and rapid winds took shape. Not a note came from her. Not an answer was necessary. Hannibal knew just as she did. She feared what came after the storm. His hand extended outwards to her.

When rain pelted against glass, hitting a window placed inches from her. Thin, sheer curtains further separated her and the outside world. Dazed, Emma twisted around to find herself in the large enclosure recognisable as Hannibal’s office. Hannibal stood a few feet away, donning new attire. Reality hit her when she felt the uneven weight on her arm, his coat wrapped neatly around it; Time had passed without her consent. “I—” Emma stopped again. She ran a hand through her styled, scarlet waves and light showed cause to showcase the bloodied, bandaged knuckles.

An expression crossed Hannibal’s face, concentrated and questioning.

Emma doesn’t notice his reaction. She didn’t notice when he inched closer. Instead, she assuaged herself that nothing had happened and held out the dry-cleaned coat. “I thought you should have this back,” she carried on, seamlessly picking herself back up.

Not a word came from him as he reached.

“I would have handed it back sooner, but I didn’t want people gathering the wrong impression.” Here, when their hands brushed (his elegance and subtle harshness making contact with her smoothness), did she notice the distance which almost no longer existed, and she stepped back; abrupt. “I didn’t want to discredit you, Dr. Lecter.”

His hand did not leave her wounded one. Nor his evaluation of the tainted gauze.

“Don’t worry, not a drop got on it. I made sure,” Emma assured with a faltering smile, despite his lack of interest in the coat’s condition. The stillness felt akin to punishment or some twisted karmic justice that she probably deserved from an act committed long ago. They stood there, seconds passing, and she wanted him just to say something already so she’d have a hint of what went through his uncategorised mind.

Then: “This therapy only works when we don’t lie, Emma,” he uttered.

“I’m not lying.”

“Yes, you are. You are lying to yourself.”

Her hand returned to its lonesome self as Hannibal moved across the room, coat put away. He had seen through her. How many other times had he been aware? It drove her crazy how he knew more about her happenings than she did. “The dressings need to be changed or you will risk infection.” The thud of a cabinet opening followed Hannibal’s voice. She watched him collect a roll of gauze and alcohol-free wipes while her legs confined her to the same spot. Too busy contemplating his character, Emma did nothing to stop him from grabbing her hand, undressing the bandage, and peeling away the wrapped material.

“Where did your mind take you?” Dr. Lecter broke through the loud noise inside her head.

“Quantico.” Pain winced forth between words. Gentle though he was, the cuts stung with each wipe. “The Behavioural Sciences headquarters. We were discussing my thoughts and people-watching,” finished Emma. Trying to gauge how much time she lost, she peeked at the mess her emotions got her into. Judging how far along the wound had healed up – and according to how long it took for her immune system – the conversation was a mere few days ago. The pain which hitched her breath now was both physical and emotional. So much time went unaccounted. Time; such an intangible thing to begin with, and now it slipped out of her grasp.

“Good. Do you know what day it is?” his hand eclipsed hers, wrapping taut gauze.

Emma hesitated, “um… Wednesday.”

Mental notes jotted themselves down as he instructed her to the designated seat, the dressing complete and clean. “This is your second appointment, Emma,” he stated with a tone that indicated concern.

“And yet, we’ve seen much of each other,” she responded, half-jokingly.

He raised his shoulders in defied agreement. “Had I known it was your case, I would not have gone.” Nevertheless, he remained, and so did she.

The change of topic brought her back entirely. “So, let’s not make this awkward. Here, and only here, I am your patient. On the field, we are coworkers, acquaintances at best. Outside, we do not know each other.” Direct. Emma cut to the chase. Awake and alert while he sat across from her. “I don’t want to know your personal life.”

“Want?” he assessed the choice of word.

“I don’t want to know you beyond what is necessary,” she reiterated. It was less about convincing him and more about convincing herself. From his unbotheredness towards her fear confession, there grew an interest. Finding him interesting became a liability. It led the way to eventual ruin. She had to draw a line for her sake.

A rolled lip, contemplation. “Agreed.” and they sat in that agreeance, waded in its waters together, and casting away moments that should not reoccur, for her sake. “What do you wish to discuss, then?” Dr. Lecter, as always, began the new conversation.

“People-watching.” From Emma’s recount, the topic previously escaped them for the favouring of a storm.

“A choice topic.” He crossed his leg. “You think of it as a hobby, while for others it’s a sport. A livelihood even.”

The thin eyebrows on her face lifted themselves. “Sport?”

“In the human sense, yes. However, in nature, livelihood. Predators will stalk their prey. Some observe their chosen meal for weak links. They might even watch the prey go about their life to understand their patterned behaviour and, all the while, they remain at a distance so as not to cause alarm.” Hannibal focused on her, giving her the once over. “Are you a predator, Emma?”

“Humans live in the weird spot of being both predator and prey, though mostly we stopped being predators as we evolved and civilisation grew. We’re barely even prey any more. In this current age, we do not need either term,” Emma responded. “But, if I had to choose... I don't know what I am.” Honest. She added an observation. “You evaluate people all the time as a psychiatrist, figure out our weaknesses, keep a distance from us. Are you not a predator, Dr. Lecter?”

Heavy darkness dragged down above them. The storm outside got worse, and Hannibal’s chest showed no movement as he gave his answer. “No. Nor am I prey either.” His shadow grew behind him. Angular. Pointed. Light had a habit of distorting reality and creating shadows of truth. It created falsehoods. Under rays, he appeared normal while something hid beneath.

What Emma comprehended was limited. Hannibal’s knowledge was not, and in this space, she trusted him. For some reason, whatever it may be. Perhaps it was because the shadows she could not see (his and hers) took similar shapes or the honesty he showed her. His presence just had that effect on her subconscious.

“What did you discuss with Agent Crawford?” she requested.

“According to your terms, this direction of conversation verges on breaking our agreement,” he said. “It is best saved for coworkers, not doctor and patient.”

The muscles and tendons tensed in her freshly bandaged hand. “Unless it has something to do about me as your patient,” Emma rebutted.

“Then you already know.”

“I believe I do. I need to hear it from you directly, anyway, to be sure.”

Outside, the rain struck harder. Hannibal kept his chin up. “Jack Crawford wished to know if you were stable.”

Static fizzed stagnant air particles. Emma kept her gaze. “What was your answer?”

“That you are indeed stable.” Lightning struck a tree as he finished. Stable; an honest lie. 

“And Will?”

“Will is unsure. He blames himself for your avoidance of him.”

“He does?” her volume shrunk; quiet. She hadn’t considered that.

Immediately, Hannibal went back to deconstructing the patient in front of him. “Tell me, what happens to cause this thoughts assembly?”

“I can’t help it,” Emma starts. “When I look at him, something changes, and it hurts to look at what fate stands there in his place.” Away from him, and even now, the image of that day was clearer than the current one. She could still see the monster.

“He cannot control the change any more than you,” Dr. Lecter advised.

“Will Graham doesn’t change. He mirrors,” she emphasised.

“And what if there was a way to make the mirror less painful to look at? Would you take it?” Hannibal inclined himself forward, and through the storm, a hand reached out. An offer of stability. She dared to take that metaphorical hand. Desperation wanted nothing else than that sense, but it didn’t feel right. Even still, the case needed it.

Emma Darcy craved stability.

She reached across, meeting him halfway, keeping him in sight and within reach.

[laf-outloud]

Hey Parrot Anon — since you like throwing numbers out — why don’t you also share Parrot’s audience sentiment numbers?

You know the calculation of the sentiment of a show across all social chatter, article comments indicating how people FEEL about the show, positive or negative.

Guess what. TW indexed low. Audience was negative and/or indifferent. The audience had no engagement and low interest and those that did ACTIVELY watch, did not enjoy it.

Plus you shared the demand numbers incorrectly. Show the work ding dong.

re: Anon probably didn't mention those stats because as far as I can see, they're not available to the general public. They only listed what they could see (or 'parroted' back what they'd read on Goob's blog).

It makes complete sense that TW has low engagement. I haven't seen anyone talking about TW episodes that happened prior to 13 (when Dean showed up). Very few viewers actually liked the show and watched it for John and Mary. They liked the possibility of getting Dean back on screen. The hellers have moved on to GK and the AA's are back to rewatching Big Sky.

I'm guessing that anon is going to disappear when renewal and cancelation announcements are made.

[manysmallhands]

#Uncool50 Index page

Having made a post indexing my #FearOfMu21c posts, i thought that I might as well index all the #Uncool50 posts too, in case anyone wanted to have a look thru those. This was a challenge posted last year on twitter where those taking part had to pick their 50 favourite singles since the punk era. As well as doing this, I took it upon myself to write a post about each of them, which i eventually stockpiled here (for want of anything else to do with them). A quick word of warning: unlike my posts this year, they were often turned around to short order and consequently i'm less happy with them than the ones i did this time.

Anyway, after we found that most people weren't really interested in picking anything much released after 1985, the organiser (my twitter friend Arron Wright, or @nonoxcol as he is there) decided to do a purely 21st century challenge this year, which is where #FearOfMu21c comes in. But anyway, these were my #Uncool 50 picks. They're listed in no particular order, other than 11 pts were given to the best five songs, with the top one getting an extra point too (as noted below).

1. Abba - Knowing Me, Knowing You

2. Tom Tom Club _ Genius Of Love

3. Dexys Midnight Runners - Come On Eileen (11 pts)

4. Madness - Michael Caine

5. .The Blue Nile - Tinseltown In The Rain

6. Strawberry Switchblade - Since Yesterday

7. Suzanne Vega - Marlene On The Wall

8. Madonna - Dress You Up

9. Nu Shooz - I Can't Wait

10. Kate Bush - Hounds Of Love

11. New Order - Bizarre Love Triangle

12. Talulah Gosh - Steaming Train

13. Public Enemy - Bring The Noise

14. Tears For Fears - Sowing The Seeds Of Love

15. Deee-Lite - Groove Is In The Heart

16. The KLF - Last Train To Trancentral (12 pts)

17. The Orb - Orb In Dub EP

18. Stereolab - Super Electric EP

19. A Tribe Called Quest - Check The Rhime

20. Nirvana - Oh The Guilt

21. Pulp - Lipgloss

22. Underworld - Cowgirl

23. Ween - Freedom Of '76

24. R.E.M. - At My Most Beautiful

25. Sleater-Kinney - You're No Rock n Roll Fun

26. Jeffrey Lewis - The Chelsea Hotel Oral Sex Song

27. Amerie - 1 Thing

28. LCD Soundsystem - North American Scum

29. Electrelane - To The East

30. The Go! Team - Doing It Right

31. Florence + The Machine - Dog Days Are Over (11 pts)

32. Eux Autres - You're Alight

33. MGMT - Flash Delirium

34. Warpaint - Undertow

35. St Vincent - Cruel

36. Sharon Van Etten - Serpents

37. The Soundcarriers - Boiling Point

38. Tullycraft - Lost In Light Rotation

39. The Clientele - On A Summer Trail

40. Trust Fund/Joanna Gruesome - Spilt 12" EP

41. The Juan Maclean - A Simple Design

42. Faith Healer - Again (11 pts)

43. Kendrick Lamar - King Kunta

44. Little Mix - Black Magic

45. Grimes - Kill Vs Maim

46. Solange - Cranes In The Sky

47. Muna - I Know A Place (11 pts)

48. Fred Thomas - Voiceover

49. U.S. Girls - Rosebud

50. Jeanines - Things Change EP

[culttvblog]

Private Detective Season: Shoestring - Stamp Duty

I seem to have accumulated a number of shows about private detectives on my mental list of possible blog posts so I might as well deal with them as a group. In fact as a result of reading for this post I've discovered the 1980s series Philip Marlowe, Private Eye, which I'm looking forward to seeing for the first time.

The private detective has been a staple of pulp fiction for decades - hard-boiled, beyond cynical, might or might not get the woman, usually has an interesting past, and has manners and personal habits which would make him unsuitable for most work places - and so naturally makes the transition to the small screen.

Eddie Shoestring - the former It professional who has had a breakdown and has made his way through being a private detective to working as a private ear on Radio West, who I introduced in a recent post - has these qualities in abundance, and this excellent episode is like a Raymond Marlowe adventure transposed to 1980s Bristol.

It's in large part driven by Andy, a friend who Eddie made while they were both inpatients in a psychiatric hospital. Andy is in the habit of reporting crimes which never happened to the police, and they are so fed up with him that now the only person who will listen to him at all is Eddie Shoestring, and even he doesn't believe Andy's account of having witnessed a murder. This device also deals nicely with the reality that a private detective will immediately not touch any case involving murder - here the police just won't believe it and anyway, Eddie gets personally involved.

It's also plain that Eddie has the essentially unemployable private detective nature down pat, and in fact keep getting brought in tp be yelled at in this one because of the number of solicitor's letters the station is getting about slander. Both he and his friend could be seen as ultimately unstable and unreliable; both presumablly as the result of adverse life experiences.

Eddie is so unsocial that he even has that staple of the misfit, an old boat, although he actually does live with someone in a house share. A bolt hole of some sort is of course essential for anyone who can't get on with society nicely and I suppose a boat is only one step removed from a shed.

Eddie is ultimately completely cunning and gets the evidence in this one, so obviously playing by society's rules is over-rated.

This episode is about a murdered stamp dealer who turns out not to be what he appears to be at all. The episode is somewhat misnamed after stamp duty, because it has nothing to do with the tax paid on house purchases above a certain value, but is about actual stamps.

The stamps themselves have an integral role to play in what the deceased stamp dealer was actually doing, but I'm not going to spoil it, because if you want to see this excellent episode I'd love you to guess as it goes along.

I don't have a criticism of this episode: every role and aspect of the plot is perfectly tuned to fit well into the private eye world and to lead to the conclusion.

This blog is mirrored at

culttvblog.tumblr.com/archive (from September 2023) and culttvblog.substack.com (from January 2023 and where you can subscribe by email)

Archives from 2013 to September 2023 may be found at culttvblog.blogspot.com and there is an index to the tags used on the Tumblr version at https://www.tumblr.com/culttvblog/729194158177370112/this-blog

[puneet07]

What is Google algorithm?

Understanding Google's Algorithm: A Deep Dive into the Mechanics of the World’s Leading Search Engine

Introduction

In the present advanced age, the expression "Google it" has become inseparable from looking for data on the web. However, when you type a query into Google, exactly what happens? The response lies in the complex and always advancing system known as the Google  algorithm. This modern framework decides the request for indexed lists and impacts what a large number of individuals see when they browse the web. Anyone interested in the workings of the internet, not just digital marketers and SEO professionals, should have a solid understanding of the Google algorithm.

What is the Google Algorithm?

The Google algorithm is, at its center, a bunch of rules and formulas that Google uses to rank sites because of an inquiry question. Based on search queries, the algorithm aims to provide users with the most relevant and useful information. It does this by evaluating, dissecting, and positioning the substance from billions of site pages, utilizing different elements to judge how well those pages match the client's pursuit aim.

The algorithm used by Google is never static; it is dynamic and continually advancing. In order to combat spam and keyword stuffing and increase the accuracy of search results, Google has made thousands of minor and major updates to its algorithm over time.

The Evolution of Google’s Algorithm

The Development of Google's Algorithm Since its inception in the late 1990s, Google's algorithm has undergone significant changes. We can appreciate the current algorithm's complexity and sophistication by comprehending this evolution.

1. The Early Days: PageRank

   PageRank's algorithm was relatively straightforward in comparison to today's standards when it was first established in 1998. The foundation of the early Google calculation was PageRank, a framework created by Google's fellow benefactors, Larry Page and Sergey Brin. PageRank assessed the significance of a page in view of the amount and nature of connections highlighting it. The thought was that a page with additional inbound connections from legitimate sources would be viewed as more definitive and significant.

PageRank was groundbreaking at the time, but it had limitations. It didn't represent the nature of the substance or the setting wherein the connections were put, prompting rehearses like connection ranches, where sites falsely swelled their rankings by securing huge quantities of bad quality connections.

2. The Introduction of Semantic Search

   As the web developed and client assumptions advanced, Google perceived the need to move past straightforward connection examination.The Hummingbird update, a significant redesign of Google's calculation that noticeable the start of semantic hunt, was delivered in 2013. Semantic search considers the purpose of a user's query rather than simply matching keywords. This update made it possible for Google to provide more accurate results by taking into account the context and meaning of words. This was a big step toward making the user experience better.

3. The Rise of Machine Learning: RankBrain

  In 2015, Google presented RankBrain, a computerized reasoning (simulated intelligence) framework that obvious a huge change in how list items were handled. RankBrain is an AI part of the calculation that helps Google decipher and answer complicated or equivocal questions.RankBrain gains from information and can change after some time, rather than ordinary calculations that depend on foreordained rules. Google's web search tool turns out to be more easy to use and responsive because of this capacity, which empowers it to deal with questions it has never managed.

4. The Focus on Quality: Panda and Penguin Updates

  Google has additionally executed explicit calculation updates to resolve issues like bad quality substance and manipulative Web optimization rehearses. The Panda update, presented in 2011, designated locales with slender or copy content, compensating superior grade, unique substance with better rankings. Websites that engaged in black-hat SEO practices like keyword stuffing and unnatural link building were targeted by the 2012 Penguin update.

By prioritizing relevance and quality over quantity and manipulation, these updates emphasized Google's commitment to providing users with the best possible search experience.

How Google’s Algorithm Works Today

The modern Google algorithm is a perplexing transaction of different elements, each adding to how pages are positioned. While the specific details of the algorithm are carefully hidden mysteries, a few key parts are known to assume a pivotal part.

1. Crawling and Indexing

   Before a page can be included in the search results, Google's web crawlers—also known as spiders or bots—must find and evaluate it. Crawling is the interaction by which these bots filter the web to see as new or refreshed content. A page is added to Google's index, a massive database of web pages, after it has been crawled.

Google looks at the page's text, images, and metadata during indexing to figure out what the page is about. The page is then matched to relevant queries using this information.

2. Ranking Factors

    When a page is recorded, Google's algorithm considers it in contrast to many ranking factors to decide its situation in list items. While Google does not disclose the full rundown of ranking elements, probably the main ones include:

Relevance: how well a page's content matches the user's query.

Authority: The validity and reliability of a page, are often determined by the quality of inbound links.

Experience for Users: Factors like page load speed, versatility, and site engineering influence how clients cooperate with a page.

Qualitative Content: The page's originality, breadth, and utility of the content.

Engagement: metrics that show how users interact with a page, such as click-through rates (CTR) and dwell times.

3. Personalization and Localization

   To tailor search results to each user, Google's algorithm also takes personalization and localization factors into account. Personalization includes utilizing information like inquiry history, area, and gadget type to convey more significant outcomes. For instance, a client looking for "best restaurants" will see various outcomes given their area.

Limitation, then again, focuses on giving geologically important outcomes. Even if the query is the same, a search for "plumbers near me" will produce different outcomes based on the user's location.

The Role of Algorithm Updates

The algorithm of Google is never static; It is regularly updated to combat new difficulties and enhance search quality. A few updates are minor and slip through the cracks by most clients, while others are huge and can significantly affect search rankings.

1. Core Updates

    Core updates are broad modifications to the algorithm that have a significant impact on search rankings and are released by Google on a regular basis. These updates are intended to work on the general nature of query items, frequently by refining how Google deciphers content and client plan. Center updates can cause vacillations in rankings, and sites might have to change their Website optimization systems to line up with the new changes.

2. Targeted Updates

    Google releases targeted updates in addition to core updates that aim to address specific issues or enhance certain aspects of the search experience. For instance, the Versatile update in 2015 focused on dynamic sites in list items, mirroring the developing significance of portable perusing.

Similar to this, the BERT update in 2019 improved Google's comprehension of natural language queries, particularly those involving prepositions and other context-specific terms. Google is able to better comprehend the nuances of human language thanks to a deep learning model called BERT (Bidirectional Encoder Representations from Transformers), which results in more accurate search results.

How to Optimize for Google’s Algorithm

To optimize content for better search rankings, website owners and digital marketers must comprehend Google's algorithm. An efficient SEO strategy can be guided by a few fundamental principles, even though the algorithm's specifics are intricate and constantly evolving.

1. Focus on Quality Content

  Content is as yet lord with regards to Website design enhancement. It is more likely that content of a high quality that is original and valuable to users will rank well in search results. This implies making content that is useful, well-informed, and applicable to your main interest group. Additionally, it involves avoiding practices that could result in penalties, such as keyword stuffing or duplicate content.

2. Optimize for User Experience

   Google puts a high accentuation on client experience, so it's fundamental to guarantee your site is not difficult to explore, quick stacking, and versatile. This incorporates advancing page speed, further developing site design, and guaranteeing your site is responsive across various gadgets.

3. Build Authority Through Links

   SEO still relies heavily on link building. Acquiring top notch backlinks from respectable sources can support your site's position and work on its positioning. However, rather than resorting to manipulative strategies, it is essential to concentrate on natural link-building strategies like creating shareable content.

4. Leverage Data and Analytics

   To remain in front of calculation transforms, it's essential to routinely screen your site's exhibition utilizing devices like Google Examination and Google Search Control Center. These tools show you where you can make improvements, which keywords are driving traffic, and how users interact with your site.

The Future of Google’s Algorithm

As innovation keeps on developing, so too will find out about calculation. The eventual fate of search is probably going to be formed by headways in simulated intelligence, AI, and regular language handling. These technologies will enable Google to provide search results that are even more personalized and pertinent, as well as to better comprehend user intent.

It is anticipated that voice search and the integration of AI-powered assistants like Google Assistant will also play a larger role in the future of search. This implies that upgrading for voice inquiries, bringing up happiness that answers explicit doubts, and taking into account the visual parts of search (like picture and video streamlining) will turn out to be progressively significant.

Conclusion

Google's algorithm is a complex and dynamic framework that lies at the core of the world's most well-known web index. Understanding how it functions, from the fundamentals of crawling and indexing to the complexities of ranking variables and algorithm refreshes, is fundamental for anybody hoping to prevail in the advanced scene. By focusing on quality content, improving client experience, and remaining informed about algorithm changes, website owners and digital marketers can explore.

[uhhhhmanda]

15 questions, 15 people

I was tagged by @fr-wiwiw! I was sure I had done this one but I can't find it on my blog so I probably did what I usually do, which is to agonize over every answer and then delete it halfway through, lol. So let's try again!

1. Are you named after anyone?

Yes! Spock's mother! Thank you, dad, for loving Star Trek and convincing my mom not to name me Kelsey Dawn.

2. When was the last time you cried?

Hold on, let me check my watchlist. I don't cry a lot (an interesting change that has happened in the last 10 years or so) but I know I just cried recently when I was watching a drama or a movie ... Ah! It was You Are My Secret, the cdrama.

3. Do you have kids?

No. My husband and I agree wholeheartedly on no human children. We've got two dogs and a cat that I'm way too attached to, though.

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

I have made a concerted effort to cut back. Now it's mostly just in texts to my husband.

5. What's the first thing you notice about people?

Depends on the person and the situation. Sometimes height, sometimes hair, sometimes clothes. If they are talking it might be a cool accent or interesting word choice or voice. Everyone is interesting in their own way.

6. What's your eye colour?

Hazel!

7. Scary movie or happy ending?

I love horror, so oth is ideal, but if I can't have happy I will take scary over sad. A sad ending can drag me down for a long time after a movie/show/book, but a scary one is fun to keep thinking about.

8. Any special talents?

Understanding thick accents (which is wild because I have auditory processing issues -- if you speak perfect English you are harder for me to understand than if you have an accent that a TV station would caption. the human brain is mysterious af).

9. Where were you born?

In a small town an hour north of Seattle, WA.

10. What are your hobbies?

Writing, reading, drawing, cooking, photography, watching Asian dramas. Once in a blue moon I post a vlog.

11. Do you have pets?

I have two dogs who are both approximately the same percetage of pit bull and german shepherd (they aren't related, we got dna tests) but their genes expressed in opposite directions, so Geordi looks like a pointy pit bull and Pepper looks like a short-haired GSD. We also have a weird cat named John Enwistle who overgrooms himself so that he looks like he's wearing a little bolero jacket or a crop top.

12. What sports do you/have you played?

I wanted to try soccer when I was little because one of my brothers was a soccer player. But no one told me the rules? Ever? And also mom wouldn't let me quit the team when it turned out that I fucking hated being watched by everyone's parents? So I spent the entire season standing on the corner of the field ignoring everything. Kind of a formative experience. It's on my Mention To Therapist list for when I finally can afford therapy.

13. How tall are you?

5'5"

14. Favourite subject in high school?

English.

15. Dream job?

I would love to make money off my art but I'd have to uhhhhh MAKE SOME ART to do that but I've got dysfunctional executives. Other things I'd love to do for money: forensic document examiner, architect, or book indexer.

I think everyone I want to see answer this has been tagged, but if you want to play PLEASE DO!