#I may provide a visual later

[bitsbug]

whenever I imagine two iterators interacting via puppet, I immediately conceptualize it as two academics playing dolls together, giving them funny little voices and making them 'kiss' (smacking the dolls into eachother) and all

[pressureplus]

I actually have this request in my head for a while now... but I'm not sure if you be up to do it so thank to let me know if you will do it or not. Fem! Reader who is happily married and live together with Sebastian (when he still human). Until, Sebastian was arrested and sentence to dead. Reader found no long after his dead that she was pregnant. Years later, Sebastian manage to escape Hadal Blacksite probably very injured in the process. He was soon spotted by the kid that look similar to his human self (the kid probably be now close to be a teenager now), as the kid call up their mother. Sebastian was shocked to see his wife come to view.

I'm looking 👀

Love this dramatic shit, I'm SO here for it!

I'm going to be referring to your son as S/N, so y'all can name your boy yourselves! (I'm real interested in the stuff you might choose, so if you wanna put them in the replies, I'd love to see your baby names!)

Smaller Hands

Pairing: Sebastian Solace x Fem!Reader

Au: [Unnamed]

Warnings: Mentions of Pregnancy, an Absent Father, injury, and Imprisonment

◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟

He had been running a very long time before he got to where he was now.

Escaping the Blacksite was only the beginning of his long, long journey home. He had wrestled himself from the depths of the deep ocean and fought his way all the way up to the light far, far above him.

Breaking through the surface of the water had provided him with a hope he never thought he'd see truly grow into something he could really hold. Sunlight and open air and a horizon that stretched endlessly in every direction... Sebastian hadn't known freedom in over 10 years, but there it was.

The way the natural light caught the glint of his wedding ring had him already tearing through the water with a grin, energy back in his tired body. It certainly wasn't his original ring, no, that one wouldn't fit on his new, much larger hand anymore, but the replacement that he got so he could wear a ring on his hand and not just as a pendant was enough of a visual reminder of his love, sending him treading the water the way this body was made to do. He had to get to his wife.

He had to see his Y/N again. That's always what his efforts were for.

It was days before he even reached a beach, and weeks of dragging himself through the shadows and the alleyways, keeping himself out of sight. He would squint at road maps and try to figure out how he was going to get himself home, not very well able to get on the public transport or drive himself there with a body like this. He had to be more than a little creative with how he was going to cross the countless miles between his lover and himself if he wanted to make it there at all. He'd spend his seemingly endless days hopping trains and swimming rivers just to close the distance faster, like it may wash away the last decade he's had to go without her.

Sebastian could only hope she waited for him, though those chances were next to none. She had been there the day he was 'executed', watching him get taken back to the chair that was supposed to put his story to its end. She has every right and reason to think he died that day, and he could never be angry or upset if she decided she still needed to be held the way his other hands used to hold her... Would these hands even fit her anymore? They'd outgrown his first ring... Would they be too big to hold hers anymore? The painful thought was a reoccurring one, and it plagued every dream he had in the moments he would manage to rest.

He's nearing his old cottage now, beaten and scarred from the long trip home, more than a little bit tired and definitely hungry. He's barely going to make it if he manages to get to the doorstep at all, but more thankful than ever he'd made his home with her outside of the city and out into the woods so he might have a moment to his thoughts. He could very well find her with another man, or he could find a completely new family, or even find nothing but flowers and trees- The life that he made with her could be all but ashes on a breeze that swept this place years ago. She could be a memory and this could all be for nothing just as easily as anything else. He wouldn't even have a right to be angry... He wouldn't even feel a right to cry if she's decided to move on.

"SNAKE MAN! SNAKE MAN!!!"

He's shaken from his pondering by an unfamiliar voice, a starry eyed child fumbling out of the bushes like a little animal.

He nearly panics and flees before the brave, feral little boy reaches out for his hand and looks up at him like something right out of a story book- Which, he supposed may be fair given the way that he looks now.

"Are you a forest monster!? Do you grant wishes and eat people and stuff?!" It's clear the boy doesn't know fear, young and small still, with new eyes... But familiar ones.

Sebastian's heart drops into his stomach when he begins to recognize the thick, dark hair and deep brown eyes. This boy is the spitting image of the way he looked when he was around 10 or 11... It's like he's been pulled right from Sebastian's old childhood photos.

Too dumbfounded to speak, Sebastian stands there, every muscle in his body tense while his eyes flick around the boy's face trying to figure out how this could be.

"S/N! What are you doing talking to strangers, you were supposed to be at least playing in the yard and not the woods before the sun started setting." Y/N rounds the trees with a stubborn look on her face and immediately freezes when her gaze meets Sebastian's.

The air is knocked out of the both of them, leaving them only able to stare, and he notes the way she's remained nearly the same as the day that he was forced to leave her behind. Like a flower that never wilts, she stands as beautiful and as amazing as she was when he had first met her. Frozen with an expression he can't place, she makes no motion to do anything at all. The larger man acts first at the realization she must be frightened of him, going to put his two unheld hands up and open his mouth to explain himself-

"You said not to talk to strangers, this is CLEARLY a forest monster." Little S/N beats both of them to the punch and confirms to Sebastian all at once that his attitude is as strong in his blood as that unruly dark hair is.

"Heed your mother, would you? I could very well eat you." Sebastian ushers the child forward with a playful threat, the boy in reference pouting and looking back up at him.

"Come on, I'm only out a little bit late! It's not dark yet! Monsters only eat people in the dark." The boy argues, unfamiliar with the idea of real danger, it seems, but certain of himself the way only children really can be.

"Sebastian I can't believe it... Is it you? Am I losing my mind?" Putting the scolding and corrections on her son's statements off for a better time, Y/N looks up at the mutated form of her lover, hoping she might be right. When Y/N speaks, it's soft and uncertain, a hand going to rest on her child's shoulder so as not to lose him while she's distracted.

"You recognize me?" His heart practically jumps into his throat and he struggles to cope with how quickly she's guessed it was him.

"If not for the way one soul knows another, then for your voice and... Our ring." Unafraid just as well, she walks right up to the towering creature and brings her hand up to the necklace it's strung onto around his neck.

"Am I too late?" Sebastian asks, still scared.

"You're late, but never too much. You had better come home now though." She gets firm near the end and he laughs, melting.

"Awe that's no fair! I'm in trouble for being a few minutes late and he gets to be gone forever!" The boy whines and Y/N seems to laugh when she ruffles his hair.

"You can be out of trouble because it's a special day. Now, let's go home and get you to bed." Y/N's eyes stray back up to her husband, the fondness that was there in those beautiful eyes he fell in love with was something that had grown blurry and hard to recall until now. The way her gaze rested on him so softly brought him back like he'd never left in the first place.

"I think I have some things to talk about with your monster, here." She smiles at him and goes to slide her hand into his, the cold feeling against his palm of her own ring -the matching one to his from the promise that they'd made at that altar a long time ago- made him feel warm again, and made him feel alive.

"Yes, I've got a lot of things I've been waiting to tell her for these years we've spent apart."

[funhouse-mirror-barbie]

I may go into more detail about “Sinsmas” later, but I did want to talk about what I considered to be the one scene/sequence that I thought was very well done and that I truly enjoyed—Octavia’s song, “I Will Be Okay”.

(Song/Character Discussion below)

Octavia’s song is almost everything I could have asked for. A somber echo of Stolas’ song from season 1, Octavia’s I Will Be Okay, finally, finally, gives Octavia a voice and the chance to express her grief over her father’s abandonment.

For the first time in the series, there’s no one to tell Octavia that she should give her dad some slack or that she should forgive him. She’s finally allowed to be upset, to fully mourn her relationship with Stolas and to get mad about what happened. She’s finally allowed to start working towards accepting the ways Stolas’ neglected her, and begin healing from that pain and trauma.

Octavia’s experience is both terribly heart-wrenching and, in the most painful way, freeing. The lyrics reflect that perfectly, with Octavia acknowledging that while she’s not okay now because of everything Stolas put her through, she WILL be okay, and will grow into her own person without him.

The song is a direct response to Stolas’. Octavia is answering him, saying “Yes, I will be okay. Not because of anything that you were supposed to or failed to provide me as a father, but because I will forge my own path, and in doing so will heal from the pain you caused me.”

It’s a bittersweet song about finding the strength to cut contact with someone you loved who has repeatedly failed you in the worst ways, and who isn’t going to change.

I do have one “criticism” for this song and sequence, not because anything from it was poorly done, but because, in my opinion, the song’s visuals could have been even better.

The following scene was in the original storyboards for “I Will Be Okay”, and was changed in the final episode:

I think the decision to change the visuals for these lyrics in the song was a mistake. Please don’t get me wrong, the animation in this entire episode was fantastic, my critiques of Helluva Boss are almost never about the animation.

But the above sequence just has so much more emotional weight to me. It’s the visualization of Octavia realizing she can’t rely on Stolas, that she has to look to herself for comfort.

Octavia taking her younger self from her neglectful father’s arms, symbolizing that she’s accepted that Stolas cannot be depended on and that she’ll have to take care of herself now, is such a powerful image.

It really is a shame to me that they cut this scene, because I think it fully encapsulates everything Octavia has been through in such a simple and effective way. I think the scene really loses something by cutting this visual.

With all of that said though, Octavia’s song, and the scene where she FINALLY calls Stolas out for his behavior were very cathartic for me. I know that the scene’s intent was most likely to make us empathize with Stolas for losing his daughter, but I found myself empathizing only with Octavia, and hoping that she gets the time she needs to heal.

I would love it if the show actually let her decide whether or not she wants Stolas back in her life, but given the way HB’s writers portray women, I worry that it’s likely some big event will happen that “reveals” Stella to be awful, and Octavia will forgive Stolas just like that, and will probably end up apologizing to him instead (like in “Seeing Stars”)

Anyway, just like Octavia being the only good thing in Stolas’ life, “I Will Be Okay” was, in my opinion, the only good thing in “Sinsmas”. (well that and Octavia calling Stolas out)

[bethanythebogwitch]

Wet Beast Wednesday: Christmas tree worm

Merry Christmas from the ocean! For this festive occasion, I’ve chosen to cover an animal that certainly has the spirit of the season. The Christmas tree worm is the person who keeps their Christmas lights up all year of the sea and today we’re going to see what makes them tick.

(Image: the crown of a Christmas tree worm. It appears as two stalks emerging from amongst coral polyps. Small feathery, appendages emerge from the stalks in a spiral formation going up them. They are yellow, with brown tips. A smaller, round structure is near the base of the trees. End ID)

The Christmas tree worm (Spirobranchus giganteus) is a polychaete worm of the tube-building fan worm clade Sabellida. While they are called giganteus, that’s only relative to other fan worms as they max out at about 3.8 cm (1.5 in) long. Being tube worms, they build a tube of calcium carbonate that they live in. This tube provides protection for the worm, who can retreat into it if threatened by predators. Polychaetes are defined by the paired bristle-like chaetes on each body segment, which are often used for locomotion. Tube worms like the Christmas tree worm lack these kind of locomotive appendages as they spend their entire lives in their tubes.

I couldn't find a full-body picture of a Christmas tree worm outside of its tube, so this is the best you get. (Image: Serpula vermicularis, a member of the same family of tube worms as the Christmas tree worm, removed from its tube. It is a short, segmented worm with a plug on a stalk and a crown consisting of long, feathery tentacles arranged differently than those of a Christmas tree worm. End ID)

The feature that gives these worms their common name is a pair of feathery, spiraling structures that emerge from the head and look quite a bit like tiny, colorful fir trees. These structures, called crowns, are heavily modified version of mouth appendages called prostomial palps. The feathery bits are tentacles called radioles. The crown is usually the only part of the worm visible, with the rest of its body safely in the tube. The crown is used both for feeding and respiration, as it can perform gas exchange with the water like gills. Christmas tree worms, like other fan worms, are filter feeders. They expose their crows to the water and wait for edible plankton and bits or organic detritus to get caught by the radioles. Cilia then transports the food down to the mouth. Christmas tree worms have a modified radiole called an operculum that acts like a lid to the front of the tube, closing it off when the worm retreats. The crown also has light-sensing structures, allowing it to detect light and shadow. The visual capabilities of these eye spots is poorly studied. The crown makes up about a third of the body length and can come in a wide variety of colors. It can regenerate if damaged.

(Image: a blue-crowned Christmas tree worm emerging from yellow coral. End ID)

Christmas tree worms are found across most of the world, from the Caribbean to the Indo-Pacific, in tropical waters. They are coral reef dwellers who live in burrows built into had corals. Brain coral species are their preferred hosts, but they can live on other corals and have been reported living in sponges and on giant clams. Christmas tree worms certainly have a symbiotic relationship with the corals, it's debatable whether that relationship is parasitic, commensal, or mutualistic. They may damage nearby polyps and could spread harmful algae (that seems to be an open question), but I found sources suggesting they improve water flow around the coral, which could benefit it. When they sense a threat, the worms will rapidly retract into their tubes. Some time later (which can be seconds to minutes), they will cautiously emerge again. Worms living on crowded corals seem to be more timid, taking longer to emerge again. Christmas tree worms are broadcast spawners who release their gametes into the water. Fertilized eggs hatch quickly into larvae who must find their way to a coral and start their burrow. Christmas tree worms can live up to 30 years.

(GIF: a bright yellow Christmas tree worm retracting into its tube. The full retraction takes less than a second and leaves only a hole covered by the operculum. End ID)

Christmas tree worms are considered to have a stable population, but as they are dependent on corals, threats to reefs are threats to them. Thus, global climate change is a major threat to their survival. Predators of the worms include fish, starfish, and other worms. They are not of commercial interest to humans, but are popular among divers and have entered the aquarium trade.

(Image: multiple Christmas tree worms of various colors emerging from a coral. End ID)

[dduane]

Process for the new DEEP WIZARDRY International Edition cover

(rolls up sleeves) Right. Writing work (and recurring health issues) have repeatedly pushed these pieces of work to one side for the last year and a half. Time to take a brief break from ongoing work in other universes to rectify that.

Here's the template that I'm building on: the international edition cover for So You Want To Be A Wizard. (Available only outside North America, if you're wondering what makes it international. These paperbacks use the New Millennium Edition texts—except for the international edition of Games Wizards Play [when it comes out later this year], which was written to fit into the NME timeline to begin with, and will go into its international editions with that text.)

The cover concept's straightforward. Relatively dark, desaturated backgrounds: one glowy (or somewhat glowy) thing in the foreground, in a color that pops, or in lighting that makes it stand out.

For Deep Wizardry, things get slightly complicated by the fact that so much business happens underwater. But there are some things we can work with there. A scene in which two pivotal characters square off seems like a fair bet.

So: background first. Underwater lighting...

The sea floor: sand.

Sunlight from above the water.

But naturally that's not how the bottom would look, because there are ripples on the surface...

And naturally the sea bottom isn't going to be featureless, so we need some weeds and rocks.

The distribution's not ideal on these, but that comes under "fine tuning." That can happen over the weekend.

Now for the main attractions. Nita...

...and Ed. (ETA: There are some scale issues here. Properly speaking, Ed'rashtekaresket is significantly bigger, in comparison with Nita, than he's being framed in this shot. But Nita had to be big enough to actually show on the cover... So some liberties inevitably get taken.)

Now, while this is all promising enough so far, there's a bit of a problem. Nita's not terribly visible at this point. So, time to engage in some visual jiggerypokery that will both help with that problem and do something to hint at the connection between these two.

IIRC, Nita was wearing a wizardly forcefield in this scene to provide her with air and other necessities. So let's exploit that.

In the render, I can apply to her figure what in Daz Studio parlance is called a "geoshell": a kind of skintight digital overskin to which special effects can be applied: such as light emission. (And Nita's hair will get one too.) Since everything else in the scene is cool-colored, this light is going to need to be warmer, in (at the very least) a golden range. (Or rosy. May be playing with that for a bit.)

...But obviously we can't leave her looking like that. So what I get to do now is lose the rest of the scene and render Nita separately, in the same position but with different, less blued-out lighting...

...then add her figure back into the scene, over the geoshelled version (which can be clone-brushed out later).

...So when we slot that imagery into the paperback cover template, after some tweaking, this is what we get.

...Still some things to correct or refine here. (Such as the main body of back cover text, as I haven't written the new copy yet. And the quotes may want tweaking: the NYTimes review [which the WaPo picked up] had some lines that might work better.) Colors, composition, etc etc, can all use some final touches. But I think we're most of the way there.

With any kind of luck, this edition will be available online in paperback and ebook formats for the non-North American audience this time next week. (I'm still considering whether I want to offer hardcovers on these as well.)

(sigh) Now I want some tea. And then, tomorrow maybe, on to the int'l edition of High Wizardry...

ETA 2: off @softness-and-shattering's question:

If I may ask, is it not your publishers job to do this work? Is this a continuation of the thing where authors now seem to be expected to do their own marketing too, or are you doing the new millenium editions 'on your own' or similar?

I'm doing them on my own. While there are numerous foreign-language editions of the original YW books, the only publisher to use the NME texts so far (for books 1-3) has been Lumen éditions in France, and I'm not clear whether those editions are still in print.

Whatever their status, that still leaves me with a lot of countries where I can publish. And if that job's going to get done—lacking other publishers' interest, which my agents would handle—It falls to me to take the work forward. Such are the wonders of our age that I no longer have to wait for a publisher to turn up. And should something suddenly happen for publishers to get interested (like a TV series or whatever) then i can easily withdraw my own editions and let my agents do deals with them.

Meanwhile, why (as we say) leave money on the table? There are other English-speaking countries on the planet where the YW books can be marketed (and more countries still where—when there's cash to spare to hire the necessary creative talent—translations might not do too badly). So I might as well get on with it! I've got groceries to buy and bills to pay like everybody else... :)

(And just pausing here to point at the page pinned to the top of my feed. If you want to help with those groceries, there's a good place to start: the ebook bundles are still at their pre-holiday sale prices! ...Unless you're in the UK. [I'm so sorry about Brexit, folks, but there's nothing I can do about that...])

[fatcatlittlebox]

I go back to this shot so many times because I think it captures so many themes central to this show and central to Halbrand and Galadriel's relationship. It is at once intimate but also cosmically symbolic, like so many of Tolkien's themes are. It's why it recurs so often (as I have touched upon in previous metas). They are sleeping. It's a simple but powerful image. The words Galadriel says from the beginning -- Evil does not sleep. It waits— have added meaning. Here, we see "Halbrand" sleeping. We later find out that Halbrand is actually Sauron. Does that mean he was pretending here? It's a mystery but I think there are enough visual clues to support that this was real. This was Sauron’s reset to factory settings. As I have said before, his meeting on the sea with Galadriel was baptismal. He was reborn. Which echoes the foundational Tolkien belief that "nothing is evil in the beginning." Meaning that the races of Middle Earth and humanity in ours have the potential for good. And everything that happens, with the person and identity that Sauron tries to manifest as “Halbrand” from this point forward is not a lie. But an extension of this. He's sleeping. “Halbrand” is a dream. A dream that ended when evil awoke.

And as an aside it’s worth noting these lines between Arwen and Aragorn in FOTR:

Arwen: Do you remember when we first met?

Aragorn: I thought I had wandered into a dream.

Arwen: Long years have passed. You did not have the cares you carry now. Do you remember what I told you?

Aragorn: You said you’d bind yourself to me. Forsaking the immortal life of your people.

That's why the raft scene is so important. And it’s call forward to Aragorn and Arwen. Also you never see Sauron asleep again. It could be just a throwaway coincidence if not for the fact that we actually do see Sauron awake when others are sleeping, either seething in his nefarious plots or rage-brooding throughout the night.

Even though dreams are no more real than illusions, they reveal truths, not lies. Because it is the realm of the subconscious. Our true selves as we are or who we wish to be. Our unexpressed desires or the fulfillment of unrequited hopes. In this moment, emphasized by two separate visuals, both Halbrand and Galadriel are sleeping. They are not just bound by fate and the vow they enacted in the midst of the storm. They are bound in this dream.

This idea is revisited again and again in season 2. Often I'm struck by the look on Elrond's face during this exchange. It's not the look of distrust or disappointment.

In this brief instant, Elrond is moved with sorrow for his dearest friend, for her broken heart. He cares deeply for Galadriel. You can see that he feels the depth of her pain and mourning for the love that she lost. In a way, it is a prescient moment because his own future will be marred by such bitter loss and tragic love that may or may not be the fruit of this doomed pairing. Still, Elrond's words are not judgement. Just truth. Elven memories do not dim. And so Galadriel will always be haunted by it. Which is why Elrond tells her, sadly: "He never left." In that memory of a dream, Halbrand survives. His mark is there. And when Galadriel reaches for Elrond to ground herself, he only provides a comforting pat and firmly releases her hand. I think part of it is a juxtaposition to Sauron. Where in the past, she instinctually reached for Halbrand and he grasped her in return, never intending to let go. She is brought back to the moment where they were at their closest point, where everything seemed to align perfectly. A memory perhaps tinged with the temptation and regret over having not reached for Halbrand as she may have desperately desired. And you see Elrond witness it right in front of him! When Galadriel’s mind wanders into a daydream, you can see Elrond's grief. And also, I think the other part of it is the symbolic gesture underscoring that Elrond cannot pull her from this dream. He cannot liberate her. No one else can. Because he, Halbrand, never left. So Galadriel must summon strength and clarity to let him go. To walk away.

Because I think Sauron left a part of himself in this dream. If we revisit this shot where Galadriel has fallen. Seemingly "asleep" -- you see the impression of a figure next to her. As I said before, I think this is meant to suggest that not only was someone there, but that someone is still there. In the dream world or even the unseen one. In that place where elven memory does not fade with the good borne of their shared dream: hope, loyalty, bravery and love. In contrast, you see Sauron watching. Because evil is awake. And Sauron is waiting.

[rahiwatching]

The OTHER major transport system of Le-Metru

We all know that the chutes are the primary system of transport in Metru Nui, with others also being in place such as Ussal carts, Vahki transports and airships. But in looking over Le-Metru based videos and key visuals from 2004, I think I’ve found another one. One that is so prolific that it appears in almost all visual media depicting Le-Metru (outside of LoMN), and yet, as best as I can tell, never makes an appearance in any of the books.

Take a look at these images of Le-Metru:

As well as the usual cylindrical chutes, there are also flat, raised platforms with what appears to be cargo loaded on top of them. The support structure of the platforms have the same green colouration as the rest of the Metru, but the channel in which the cargo sits has a silver tinge.

In Matau’s character video (best viewed in the high quality version on the BioMedia Project, as the shots that linger in one place long enough to view these platforms in detail only have them in the background) you can see if you look at these platforms specifically that they move the cargo quite quickly across their surfaces - not as fast as a chute, but still pretty quick.

At first I thought these might be a raised version of the canal system with the silver colouration being the liquid protodermis, however I quickly rejected that as this depiction of a canal in Po-Metru showed that the visuals do not match up, with actual liquid protodermis looking far more like water and the silver parts of these platforms appearing to be solid and probably metallic.

So - best guess as to what these actually are? I think they are conveyor belts.

At the height of Matoran life in the city just before the Great Cataclysm, these probably held the niche in the transportation network for cargo that was too delicate to go in the chutes, but still needed to get where it was going on a much shorter timetable than an Ussal cart, canal boat or airship could provide.

I imagine that these were in fact an older technology than the chutes and may have in fact been their predecessor - a quick, efficient transportation network that criss-crossed Le-Metru and possibly the rest of the city too. One that might well have been used for both cargo and public transport (though likely with some sort of enclosure to keep the Matoran safe in transit… basically a train where its the track thats moving) until the chutes came along and cut their use back to the aforementioned niche.

Speculating some more for fun, I’d imagine that these were initially cog driven, looped belts (kinda like the ones in sushi restaurants) as that would keep with the clockwork style that a lot of Metru Nui tech is based around. Later on, the sections of belt might have been magnetically levitated and moved along the platforms (like if the base of a maglev train ran the entire length of the track in a loop, with cargo just placed on top of the flat, levitating surface) with that experience with magnetic technology being the starting point for what would eventually become the chute system.

[doyoulikethis-videogame-song]

GENERAL RULES & GUIDELINES

If this post doesn't answer your questions, try the Specific Guidelines or FAQ!

Fundamentals for Submissions:

You MUST submit the name and origin of the song.

You MUST use the provided google form for submissions. Any songs requested in the ask box or messages will be deleted/ignored.

You MAY submit the artist and/or a link to the song. This is not required, but is very helpful.

Clarifications for your Submissions:

For the sake of allowing as many individuals as possible to submit songs, only one song per person is allowed per submission period. A submission period lasts about three months and includes three submission dates (the 1st of each month during the period). If you submission is removed for any reason, it will be made publicly available here under 'Submission Form Deletions' and you will be able to resubmit at a later date during the submission period. Submissions under this category should not be resubmitted because they are already in the queue.

Please indicate the source/year of the game in the ‘notes’ tab of the form if your game has a remake/remaster and you would like to submit a specific version (i.e, specify if you’re submitting Snow in Summer from NieR (2010) or NieR:Replicant (2021)). This is not required, but obviously very helpful.

Please indicate the version of the song if the song has multiple versions within the same game (i.e if you’re submitting Song of the Ancients from NieR (2010), specify if it is the Popola, Devola, Hollow Dreams, or Fate version). This is also not required, but is also obviously very helpful.

The song MUST be officially released in some capacity, whether that is from the composer, studio, developers, company, etc. NO LEAKS WILL BE ACCEPTED. Official releases can include prereleases, early access, album teasers, etc. The spirit of this rule is essentially 'only music released to the public with the creative team's consent'.

Songs from anything that could reasonably considered a ‘video game’ will be accepted provided they meet the remaining rules and clarifications. Any console, any release year, visual novels, gacha games, itch.io games, self-hosted games, flash games, mobile apps, are all allowed. If you're still unsure, please look at the specific guidelines.

Songs under 20 seconds will not be accepted (try @dyktvideogamesfx for those ones!)

Songs from live-service games will be accepted on a case-by-case basis, with most approved cases being songs that were featured in an actual form of the gameplay (i.e songs exclusive to advertisements/promotional material may not be accepted). See specific rules for details.

Songs from gacha rhythm games/idol card-collecting games/etc will be accepted if they are regular BGM or event BGM. Songs from the beatmaps that are not exclusively video game songs will not be accepted (Games included here include but are not limited to: Ensemble Stars, BanG Dream Girls Band Party, Project Sekai, etc). See specific rules for details.

The song should PREFERABLY HAVE AN OFFICIAL TITLE. If it does not, it must be able to be found with a reasonable google search. I may delete your submission if I am unable to find the song (and it will be placed in 'submission form deletions').

Please don't submit songs that are from games less than THREE MONTHS OLD (or are less than three months out from release in a live service game). This is to allow others to avoid potential spoilers. For the 7/1/2025 submission period, this means NO ELDEN RING NIGHTREIGN, NO MARIO KART WORLD, AND NO DELTARUNE!

With that being said, here is the submissions form! (Opens 7/1/2025)

[rav1377]

Goodnight Loving Trail

cowboy!John Price x fem!reader (ranch au)

put my whole Texas behind into this one…if it’s too technical for y’all lemme know. my family has experience cattle ranching so i have knowledge on this subject and if i wrote something that you’re looking like “what the hell is she talking about.” LET ME KNOW! if you’d like something more visual for the calf stuff, i HIGHLY recommend watching the Houston Rodeo reruns of team calf roping AND tie down roping, all on YouTube! i know it may seem harsh as you read this, but the cows aren’t being hurt.

tw:kissing in this one, comfort, father getting sicker, dementia, not taking pills, ranch work, etc etc etc NOTE: reader does reference something of John’s as “bigger than hers”, NOT a reference to readers size/weight, merely a JOKE, it’s a JOKE. I do NOT mean to offend anyone or make them feel this fanfic is not for them. reader is reader, meaning YOU!!! if you feel that im inaccurately writing or not being inclusive, LET ME KNOW! I will try to fix it! That being said, I’ve written these as if I was the reader, and I am personally a little chunkier! But if you don’t like this, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF THAT IS GOOD INFORM ME. -cass 💕:D

the cool Texas morning rolls in on the east wind, and the oak trees shift and move in the early hours of the morning. you lie awake in bed, on your side, and face the open window. your pa isn’t getting better and refuses to take his pills. the cows haven’t been worked in days. the fields need tending to. the garden has weeds over growing and strangling your other plants. the barns need to be prepared for winter. the goats and sheep need to be checked. the dogs need to be fed. the perimeter needs to be rerun. the fence on the west side needs to be fixed. the pipes are leaky and need new pieces. the roof is old and crumbling, needing new shingles. everything is falling apart to you. you sigh and sit up as your clock hits 4:30am. maybe with John here things will be different. you didn’t want to admit you needed his help, but you do.

you stretch and try to get the sleep in your eyes away. the wardrobe in the corner of your room is open and you reach for a pair of worn jeans and socks, slipping them on slowly. your belt comes on next, followed by an old tee shirt. walking to the bathroom, you turn the old sink on and brush your teeth thoroughly before splashing some cool water on your face. a hair brush pulls hair from your face and into a ponytail. the mirror sits in front of you and you don’t want to look. all you’ll see is a tired girl trying to keep a farm together, bags under her eyes, exhaustion clear. sighing you turn off the light and slip down the hallway. John’s rooms light is on and you hear him moving around. you’d told him to be ready at 5 to help with the morning chores and you smile, pleased he’s ready to work.

the stairs creak slightly as you walk down to the kitchen, pulling out bread and eggs. John comes down not even five minutes later. “mornin’.” he rumbles, deep morning voice present. you nod and buck your head to the toaster. “morning. could you put some bread in there for breakfast?” you ask. he’s quick to follow your orders, promptly entering two slices in before pressing the button down. he watches as you make scrambled eggs, adding a bit of salt and pepper. the toaster pops, and he places a piece on each plate that you already laid out. you turn back to him, eggs done, and serve portions onto each. you place a bigger clump of eggs on his and his eyebrows furrow. “no no, put some back on yours.” you roll your eyes. “John i have plenty on my plate. i made the extra for you on purpose.” orange juice is poured into cups as the two of you sit down. John’s miffed for him getting more than you. his father always told him to make sure his wife always got plenty of food before eating each meal, to make sure she was provided for. of course you weren’t his wife but he thought the philosophy still applied. you did seem okay with your meal, but it still rubbed him a bit wrong.

your sweet voice cuts through the chewing of food. “we have a lot to do.” you whisper, head drooping. “that’s what i came for.” John says, looking at you. “tell me what needs to be done.” he says, putting down his fork after his last bite. “well the priority is the cows. calfing season is coming up and we have a lot of heifers that are having their first babies. so we need to check and work them today.” he nods as you talk, taking a sip of his juice. your thigh is pressed against his and he watches as your hands move with everything you say. “we should also start to prepare the crop fields. we need those to get through the winter. and if we can squeeze it in, start on the barns.” you finally finish, head resting in your hands. “there’s so much to do John and I don’t have the time or means to do it on my own.” you whisper. tears prick at the corner of your eyes as your voice begins to shake. his chest hurts, distraught that you’re so stacked with things to do. “it’ll be okay. we can start on a bunch of the work today.” he tries to console you, hand resting on your back. “these aren’t one day jobs, they’ll take days.” you murmur, head back up. your eyes are far off and filled with worry. “it’ll be okay. y’ever thought about getting more help?” he says. you shake your head. “i don’t need help.” you say firmly, eyes coming to reality again. John sighs in his head. always stubborn. that’s what he remembers most about you from school. you’re hard to change, and when you found something you stood for, you dug your heels in like an anchor. “well we can still get a lot of this done today.” he says, rising from the nook in the kitchen. he takes the plates and glasses, rinsing them in the sink. you nod, eyes stinging. you stand and pull a pill box from the counter, writing something on a sticky note before placing the box on the table. John watches from the sink. “my dads meds.” you explain. he nods and returns to the dishes. “he refuses to take them, he’s just being stubborn.” you growl out. “reminds me of you.” he says, but his eyes are filled with something that you can’t put your finger on. you sigh and look away, headed to the back door.

pulling on your boots, you slip a jacket on to brace the cool fall air. John follows suit and you throw work gloves into your pocket. grabbing your hat, you open the door and walk out to what you call the shed. John follows close behind, steps heavy on the wet grass. the shed isn’t a shed, rather a large barn where you hold everything that you need for work. the tractors, mules, and atvs all sit out in here, waiting to be used. you’ll check cattle first though, and you prefer to be on horses for that so you can get really close to the cattle. “you know how to ride?” you ask, walking over to the tack room that’s connected to the stables. John hums in affirmation, still taking in the room. “good.” you say, walking into the much smaller tack room. you pull off a saddle blanket and saddle before kicking open the door to the stable. your horse Big Red sits on the right stall, chuffing like he’s waiting for you. you smile and throw the saddle over to sit on the fence. Oliver sits in the stable to the left, nickering at the commotion. John walks in behind you, saddle and blanket in hand. “this one okay for me to use?” he asks, showing you. you nod and return to Red, entering his pen. “you’ll ride Oliver today.” you jut your chin out at the large black horse. Oliver was named after Oliver Loving, co-creator of the Goodnight-Loving cattle trail. another black horse in a pen is Charles, named after Charles Goodnight. your father had bought them when you were fourteen, a rare pair of twin brothers. Big Red is your most recent baby though. you bought him as a foal when you had just turned 18, a sort of birthday gift to yourself. his brown-red coat gleamed in the sun and reminded you of the mountains of Arizona and New Mexico.

you enter the stall and throw the blanket and then saddle over your horse, securing it with the straps and belts. you hear John do similar across the room. you walk back to the tack room before bringing out a bridle and harness, then grab a lasso rope before calling out to John the things he’d need. “we’re not completely sure if premie calves have been born so we’ll take some rope just in case.” John nods and returns to the tack room to get his own supplies. you needed a saddle bag for the tag piercer and anything else you might need to work cows, including some water for you and John. some chaps sit in the tack room and you pull your pair on over your jeans, leaning over to fasten the clasps. you hear John’s steps behind you coming into the room and you stand, pointing to where some extra pairs lay. “see if any of those fit you, might be a little tight though. they were my dads.” you say and he nods, pulling on a beaten navy blue pair. they are a little tight, and squeeze his thighs, but aren’t too uncomfortable. when the two of you are finally ready, you open Red’s pen and walk him out into the pasture before mounting him. John follows, but Oliver is playing a joke on the new man, moving every time John tries to bring his right leg over his back, causing him to stumble. you watch, amused, as John tries to get on him again. this time, Oliver moves a good three feet, and John falls right on his butt. you laugh, pressing a hand to your mouth. he looks up to you from the ground. “oh this is funny?” he asks, eyebrows raised. you nod, wheezing. his eyes dance with playfulness as he grasps Oliver’s reins. you walk Red over there, barricading Oliver’s right side so he can’t move. John’s successful this time, and snugly fits into the saddle. “ride ahead to that gate. well go to the Dawn pasture first.” he nods. you watch and follow behind him as he guides Oliver where you directed. his strong legs grip the sides of the horse before resting his feet in the stirrups. eyes trailing upward, you can’t help but look at his ass that’s snug in the saddle. you smirk and look away. he’s got a fatter ass than me you think to yourself.

when you reach the gate, you explain how the farm works. 3 large pastures, each over 100 acres. the Dawn pasture, the Grant pasture, and the Conner pasture. the names help everyone keep track, though unusual. they were the last names of the men your pa worked with in the mines, killed in a mine collapse in Wyoming. Dawn pasture is where you keep a lot of the heifers and young cows, along with sheep or goats if you have them some years. Grant pasture keeps the more seasoned cows and bulls, ones that won’t be too crazy. Connor pasture is the biggest and roughest. Clearwater lake sits on the front part of the pasture that faces the house, and the albeit small Watson mountain ranges sits in the bag. Watson mountain range isn’t really a mountain, but this is Texas land and it does what it wants. it encapsulates the northwest side of the property and the land is rocky and tall, hard to navigate. mountain lions and coyotes roam the area, but you let some cows roam near the lake. they’re smart enough not to venture too close to the mountains. you have three crops that you grow; corn, cotton, and wheat. four if you count the hay field. the corn crop sits in front of the main house while the wheat field sits in front of Connor pasture. the cotton field is relatively small, and is snuggled between the horse pasture and the corn barn. the hay field is nestled between the grant and Connor pasture, and sits diagonal from the main house. that’s all John really needs to know for now, and you unlock the gate, riding into Dawn pasture.

heifers are roaming the hills, grazing at the grass. some of them aren’t pregnant with their first calves but most are. you silently do a rough count of them as you and John ride side by side. one sticks out. an early calf. you have to be careful with these, needing to check and watch over them because they’re a bit early. you look at John and gesture with your hands at the calf. “we need to tag that one.” you call, separating from John. he immediately picks up what you mean and rides to the right side of where the momma cow and the baby are. you turn off to the left as you get closer, pull your cattle stick from the hook on Red’s saddle. the mother is on the left side of the calf, staying close to her baby. John pulls off his rope and swings it slowly in his left hand, legs guiding Oliver on their own. you nod at him and start making noise, whooping lowly and clicking your tongue. the mom sees you now and turns to face you. John creeps to the right and speeds up, moving to lasso the calf. the rope lands around its neck perfectly, and John tugs the rope to get the mom away from the calf. you ride between the gap, and dismount. the momma calf knows who you are though, and thankfully doesn’t make too much trouble, instead watching the situation closely. you walk slowly to the calf, John staying on Oliver. the little animal is panicking, crying for its mother. the momma calf moos at her child, trying to calm them. the momma cow paws at the ground and scrapes up dirt nervously. you pull open your saddlebag, pulling out the tag piercer and a new number ear tag. you walk to the little animal, calming it as you rub its stomach. you swing one leg over its side slowly, pressing her, you check in between your legs. you’ve found that similar to a cow chute, these calves are calmer when they’re squeezed. you make shushing noises as you bend over, pulling its head up gently so you can slip the tag through its ear with the piercer with a clear ca-chunk.

you throw off the lasso and release the cow to her mom, hearing her duck under her moms body. you smile and nod at John before walking back to your own horse. the two of you walk around and check the pasture, counting only one more premie and working it. the rest of your heifers are looking great, still healthy and round with their coming babies. the whole ordeal takes about 4 hours, and by the time you’re done it’s almost 10:00. as you ride back to the horse pasture John sighs. “well, we got that done in four hours, we started at six?” he asks. you nod, looking at the brunette man. “we’ll have to run those calves to the chute to get them their shots and register them.” you say. John slides off Oliver to open the gate to the horse pasture. “well use the horses again, but i need to run inside to check on my pa.” you say, dismounting after he closed the gate. you hand Big Red reins to him. “ill be right back.” you say, nodding. his blue eyes bare into yours and you stay silent. the walk back to the main house is silent and lonely. wish John was here. your mind unconsciously thinks and you scold yourself. you can’t be thinking about him like that. he’s a ranch hand, nothing more. the house is quiet when you walk in.

walking to the living room, your pa is sat in his normal armchair, watching some news channel. “pa?” you ask, kneeling by him. “hello.” he says, finally looking at you. as you look up at him, you can see it in his face. he doesn’t recognize you. “hi.” you whisper. “what’s a nice young lady like you doing in my house?” he asks, sitting up straighter. “nothing sir, i’m just passing through.” you say, standing. “i have something for you.” he nods, rising as well. “you need to swallow these. do you understand that?” picking up your fathers pill box you open today’s day and hand them to your father. “swallow them with water or when you eat something, okay?” your pa nods and walks to the fridge. “well i’ll just swallow them right now then.” he says, pulling out the pitcher of sweet tea. you nod, eyes stinging as you pull him a cup. he doesn’t remember you. he pours himself a glass of tea and takes his pills. nodding, you walk back to the back door and pick up your hat from its hook. “you know, lemme tell you somethin’ girl. you look just like my wife Audrey.” he says, nodding as he sips his tea. “i bet she’s real pretty.” you whisper before walking out the back door.

John’s waiting for you like a loyal dog at the horse pasture. you climb back on your horse and John unlocks the gate. “you know how to team rope?” you ask as you ride side by side. “i do. i’m better at heading.” he says, voice gruff. it sends a shiver down your spine and you look away. in rodeo, team roping is one of the best events. two cowboys both with lassos, chase a cow. when they’re ready, they release those ropes, one trying to get the calf’s head, called a “header”. the other cowboy tries to get the calf’s legs or foot, called a “heeler”. that’s what you and John will be doing. it’s easier to get the calf immobilized so you can lead it back up to the cow chutes at the front of Dawn pasture than trying to get it there by herding alone. you don’t need the whole herd, just the two calves. luckily, you don’t have to go far. you can see the two calves from this morning with their moms and you head toward them. you pull off your lasso and John follows suit. he pulls a piggin string from his belt and tucks it between his teeth. as you spin the lassos, approaching, the calves are skittish, but you and John hook one successfully. his rope flies around the neck, tugging the calf to him and Oliver as you release yours, perfectly hooking on its rear left leg. Johns already off Oliver, turning the calf to tie its legs. when he finishes, he picks up the calf and rests it on top of his horse, sitting in front of him.

it’s your turn. you pull out your own piggin string and tuck it in between your teeth. John leads this one, blue eyes zeroing on the second calf. as you ride to it, swinging the ropes, John releases his, perfectly landing on the animals head, slowing it for you. you’re quick to release your own, roping both of its back legs, something challenging for heelers. you’ve only done it a handful of times. John lets out a whoop and a laugh as you dismount Red and wrap the calf’s legs together with the piggin string. “you ever done that before?” John calls to you, voice filled with excitement. “yeah, twice! and one of them the calf seemed like it was running through molasses.” you say, grinning up at him. hauling the young calf to your horse, you follow suit of John and place the calf across Big Red, sitting snug next to you so you can keep it safe. the two of you ride back in laughter, talking about what just happened, conversation flowing like wine. you can’t remember the last time you laughed so much. when John gets to the chute he enters the pen and pulls his calf with him, letting the thing run around in the pen. you follow suit, releasing your little calf. “want me to get them in the chute?” he asks from inside the pen. nodding, you walk up to chute controls, opening it for the first calf. John’s clicking his tongue and holds his arms out to herd one into the chute. the skittish one runs in instantly, and you close the door on the young calf to keep him trapped. he moos at you and you nod, pulling out the shot kit you keep in a storage box by the chute. “i know i know.” you say, continuing to babble back at the young cow as he bellows at you. they’re like your children really, you talk like they’re grown and can understand you. preparing the dosage, you come to the side of the chute before pressing the needle into it’s skin. the cow chuffs and rattles inside the chute. pulling out a clipboard, you fill out a registration form for the calf, including his new number and vet information. you pull open the lever for the chute and the young cow runs back down the fence line, back into Dawn pasture. John herds the second calf next, she seems to be the more stubborn one. she’s escaping John’s arms and refuses to move when he waves at her. you chuckle. “come on John! i thought you were a cowboy!”you call, leaning over the fence to watch him struggle. he growls something at you, and finally guides the calf into the chute. you hit the lever and the cow stops. preparing another shot, you carefully inject her before registering her as you did the other. John’s huffing and breathing hard as he comes to stand next to you. when you release the cow you face him. “worn out because of a little calf?” you tease, smiling up at him. he shakes his head, still out of breath. his face is flushed, and his chest moves rapidly under his white shirt. you laugh and pat him on the left side of his chest before walking back to the horses. you mount yours and John follows suit. it’s almost noon as you finish tacking away the horses and gear. the house is loud, some old music playing on the radio your pa listens to. “there’s sandwich stuff for lunch if that’s okay.” you offer, going to the fridge to pull out the pitcher of tea and some strawberries. John nods and pulls out bread. you pull ham and cheese out of the fridge as well, trying to balance it all. the packet of ham starts to slip out of your arms but John catches it. “thanks.” you smile at him and place the contents on the counter. as you stand side by side and make lunch, someone watches from the hall.

your father leans on his cane, but stands deathly still as he watches the scene. you’re smiling again. laughing. like some invisible burden was raised from your shoulders and you can be young again. it reminds him of his Audrey. they used to stand in the kitchen, making dinner together, dancing around the hardwood floor. he’s got so many regrets. he should’ve married Audrey sooner. should’ve had his family when he was younger. instead he waited until he was an old man, back tired and sore from the mines. now he’s older and has trouble remembering. remembering his daughter. he doesn’t want to leave you alone. hours spent in a collapsed mine surrounded by the corpses of his friends haunt him of that at night. the thought of his wife bleeding out on the street alone after being shot wake him up from sleep. that’s partially why he put in an ad. hoped that whatever ranch hand out here (after he made sure they were safe and hard working) would help after he died. maybe have some compassion and help you with the funeral before moving on. you’d be able to move away with the money from his will and from the land. go to the city. but he was a young man once. sees the glint in that boys eyes when you laugh. hears the way you laugh. maybe that boy would stick around. for good.

John and you eat out on the back porch. a swing sits on and faces the pastures, and the combination of the rocking, the breeze flowing down the hills, and the good meal you just ate is making you sleepy. John’s shoulder presses against yours as he eats. his eyes are wide and take in the scenery as he takes another bite of strawberry. you smile and relax your shoulders, placing the plate to the right of you. eyes drooping, you don’t even feel yourself drift off to sleep.

John feels a weight on his bicep. you’re leaning on him, eyes shut and arms crossed over your chest. he slows his feet that are pushing the chair and stills. the plate and sandwich in his lap are left discarded, and he slowly licks off strawberry juice from his fingers before relaxing. he could sit while you napped. wouldn’t move an inch. you were probably tired. it’d been a long day and the weather was only getting warmer, cicadas clicking in the distance. jackets had long been left inside and hats hung on their hooks for later use. your nose lets out little puffs of air, and your body begins to really relax. your shoulders go completely limp and your body leans forward more, unable to hold itself up. so John tucks you under his right arm. moving slow, he shifts so your left thigh is almost on top of his right and your back leans into his chest. his right hand searches for a place to sit and tentatively rests on your right hip. the breeze floats through the porch, soothing the both of you. John’s eyes flutter closed and stay closed.

it’s mid afternoon when you begin to stir. you feel something heavy slung over your hip as your eyes open. the porch sits in front of you along with someone’s wide legs. you sit up slowly, taking in the environment. looking to your left, John’s asleep, head tipped back against the porch swing. snores leave his mouth and drool runs down the right sound of his mouth. his plate sits in his lap, half of a sandwich left over. his hand is the one on your hip and you try to stand, blushing. his hand tightens and pulls on your waist before you finally escape his grasp. you’re sure your face is flushed as you straighten your shirt and pick up both discarded plates. leaving him on the porch, you walk inside and rinse them both, looking out the window that overlooks the land. your father comes up behind you. “y’all worked hard this morning.” he says, coming to get a drink of water. you nod, scrubbing at the plates with soap. “he’s a fine worker. good man.” your father remarks, taking a sip before walking to pull a chair from the breakfast nook. you nod along again, drying the plates with a rag. “y’all work together well.” he says, looking at you directly. you hum, placing the ceramic plates in the cabinet. “yeah. got work done quick today.” you say before grabbing your hat and placing it on your head. you pick up John’s as well, knowing he’ll want it. “we’re going to go check the fields. start on the hay one.” you say, looking back at your pa. for the first time in a while, you see him. he looks old, hair graying and bones weak. he smiles at you still, just like he did when you were a kid. “okay sunflower. i’ll be here.” he says, and you slip out the back door. gazing where John sleeps, your mind turns. you shouldn’t do it. shouldn’t let him get close. you think back to your high school days, when you’d exchange glances at each other in the halls. flitting stares in class. his eyes straining to see you as he stood on the football field on game days. you’d hoped there’d be something between the two of you then, but it never happened. that was 5 years ago. not long at all, but to you it was. you stare at his sleeping form for a few moments more. his large chest rises slowly as he snores, and you look down. you shouldn’t. you won’t. but at the same time, it’s John. you’d smiled more than you have in the past year, laughed more than you have in the past three. you’re not sure what to make of the feelings in your chest, but you know John’s the cause of it.

you step in front of him, and rub his left shoulder. “John.” you say, pulling him upward a bit. “John. we have more work to do. John.” you say all of this softly, and his eyes flicker open, head raising to look at you. his hairs tussled and sticks up, blue eyes blinking blearily at you. drool clings to the side of his mouth and you smirk. “wipe your face.” you say before putting his hat on his head and walking to the Shed.

the first thing John hears is your sweet voice saying his name like it means something. he blinks his eyes open, your pretty eyes look down at his, hair looking perfect beneath your hat. he’s caught up in you, your soft lips and face with a healthy dose of warmth on them. “wipe your face.” is all he hears before you’re placing his hat on his head and walking off. he scrambles up and jogs after you, porch swing rattling in the process. he does what he’s told though, wiping dried drool off his mouth before catching up with you. opening the door to the Shed, you pull keys for an atv four wheeler. “we should go check the hay field.” you say, walking to the garage door, hitting the controls to open the large thing. “you okay with riding on the same one?” you ask. “kind of forgot to fill up the other one…” your voice trails off and you rub the back of your neck. that really was on you. John couldn’t care less, nodding as you walk back over. he watches you swing your leg over and lean to the front of the vehicle before turning over the engine. John didn’t account for being so close to you though. as he swings one leg over, the front of your thighs become flush with the backs of yours. he tries to keep himself leaned back, not touching you at all with his hands. “good.” he says gruffly and you nod, pulling out of the Shed. the drive to the hay field thankfully isn’t too bad. John’s more focused on the way your thighs touch his. as you slow to the fence of the field you nod at him, and he gets off to unlock the gate. basically a universal ranch rule. the youngest or the grunts get the gate. right now, he’s the grunt, so he gets the gate. as he pulls it open, you ride through and idle, waiting for him to get back on. “you can leave it open! we’ll be back.” you call over the rumble of the engine, and he climbs back onto the vehicle. a worn down path cuts through the middle and you ride down it, eyes scanning. John leans in closer and you feel his stomach touch your lower back. “what are we looking for?” he shouts so you can hear him. “animals, bull nestle, any odd plants, vultures, or large groups of bugs!” you yell back. John leans away at that, his eyes start scanning.

you’re riding the permiter of the fence now, looking out at the field to the left. just then, something catches John’s eye in the air. his right hand darts to your shoulder and his left points upwards. “there!” he says, and you slow before taking a path cutting through the field to the left. a vulture is circling around something on the ground, floating in the air. finally you see it. a dead coyote laying in the patch of grass. the vultures don’t scare and continue to pick at the dead animal. you turn off the engine and reach down by the bottom of the atv to pull off the rifle strapped there. leaning the barrel over the seat of the atv, you aim carefully before you have the vulture picking at the animal in sights. John crouches next to you quietly, soft breath hitting your shoulder. you exhale and take the shot.

dead on. John’s impressed as the vulture falls to the ground and you’re quick to aim for the one in the sky, holding the barrel still for all of two seconds before another shot rings out. dead on. you’re like Annie Oakley or something. he watches you rise and strap the gun back to the atv. “pop the seat, there’s some trash bags in there.” you say before pulling on your work gloves. he pulls the bags out before he’s pulling his own work gloves from his back pocket and tugging them on. like the chaps, they’re a little tight but not terribly bad. the two of you walk to the animals, John helping maneuver the coyote and vulture into the bag before picking up the other dead vulture that’s a few feet away. “this all looks fresh so the grass should be okay.” you say as you walk back. John ties the bag into a bungee cord on the back plastic part of the atv before you drive, ready to check the rest of the field. thankfully, everything else is clear, grass healthy and tall. Itll be time to bale it soon. the sun is getting lower in the sky when you’re finally done. dinners next. the house is quiet, your pa reading a book in the breakfast nook. “hey pa.” you say, taking off your hat and resting it on a hook. he looks up and grunts. “i was going to make mac n’ cheese with some chicken we have. that okay?” you ask, not really directing the question to anyone. John nods at you while your father speaks up, always something sarcastic to say. “you ask that like you’ll cook something else.” he grins. rolling your eyes, you pull out the ingredients, laying them on the counter. “well no, but it’s polite to ask, ain’t it?” you counter. your pa huffs and returns to his book.

everyone’s laughing at dinner. John told your father of how you roped both legs of a calf today and the older man brought up the time you tried to do that as a girl with a much bigger bull, and got thrown straight off your horse when the bull ran. you’d gotten thrown into the mud, completely dirtied, but you didn’t let go of the rope, held right onto it until one of the other men in the ring picked you up. even then, you were screaming like the devil, trying to get that bull. Johns eyes danced with light, and they flitted to you with every laugh. your pa was grinning like a cheshire cat, letting out wheezing laughs. you felt your face flush as you smiled into your lap, shoulders shaking as you suppressed laughter.

your pa helped you with dishes today, bones feeling good to stand. he laughed and teased you about things that happened when you were a girl. “you were such a pretty baby. cutest cheeks on earth. I thought you were the most beautiful thing I ever saw.” he chuckles, drying off a plate. you smile and rinse silverware. he looks at you, placing a plate back in its stack. “you still are the most beautiful thing in my life, sunflower. my daughter.” his hand comes down on your shoulder and you smile at him. he pulls you in for a hug before pressing a kiss to your temple. “i’m going to bed.” he says, walking off onto the stairs. “goodnight! i’ll be back later, going to do the night chores!” you call, and he replies with a goodnight back. walking to the front door, you open it to see John sitting in a rocking chair, eyes looking at the setting sun. “hey. want to help me with the night chores?” you ask, walking to him slowly. his eyes look up at you, shining in the orange light of the sun. he nods and stands. “okay. well i usually go to the Shed first, we lock everything up and make sure the horses have hay for the night, then we go to the corn barn and make sure everything’s stored properly. we have some barn cats in there so we feed them as well.” you say, leading the way to the Shed.

John goes to check on the horses while you lock up the doors and check fuel levels on the vehicles. “they’re fed, got hay in the feeders. low on the troughs though.” he says, walking over to you. trying to ignore the way he just fills a room with his presence, you nod. “we’ll feed them in the morning. let’s go to the barn.” you say, trying to turn away from him. the walk is silent, and his hand brushes yours as you walk side by side. John walks slowly, basking in the day. you have no desire to make it go any faster, comfortable with the large man next to you. the corn barn is silent when you walk in, but two heads peek out behind a corner wall, mewling at you. “Matthew and Matilda.” you say, pointing at the cats. one is a white cat, dusting of brown fur along her back, and the other is a tawny color. “Mathew’s the tawny one.” you explain, walking over to a storage closet. pulling out the cat feed, you open a can and toss the other to John. “sometimes we spoil them with meat meat, but this is what they get for now.” Matilda walks over to you, rubbing on your legs as she purrs. when you place down her tin, she’s quick to dive in. Johns letting Matthew smell him, petting the cats head gently. Matthew whines when he smells the food and John smirks, placing it down on the ground. he rises, looking over to you. orange light still streams in from outside and an idea pops into your head. “cmon.” you say, turning to a set of stairs pushed on the side of the barn. the old steps hold your weight and when you get to the second level, you push open a door to the roof. you look back at John and smile, climbing up. when your feet are planted, you walk up the ton roof to the top, sitting on the flat part of the peak. John sits next to you, and looks out over the land. the view is better from here. the sun hits the grass and trees just right, and the painting of colors in the sky makes him feel at peace. he’s seen sunsets before of course, but never from here. never with you. your legs are stretched out in front of your and your hands sit on either side of the ground.

John’s fingers twitch. he shouldn’t. you’re his employer. you’re busy and don’t need this. you don’t like him. nothing happened when you were in highschool. he shouldn’t touch you like this. but something pulls at his heart.

you feel fingers brush your right hand, curling to hold your own. you flinch and look at John. what the hell is he doing. why is he touching you. oh my god he shouldn’t be touching you. but his hand is so nice. he’s treated you so well. he made you laugh. you still love him.

so maybe that’s why you don’t pull away from his touch. maybe that’s why you lean on his shoulder. maybe that’s why when his right hand comes to cup your cheek so you’re forced to look at him, you relent.

“is this okay?” he asks, thumb brushing your cheekbone. you feel yourself nod, mind to blank and heart racing too much to think. he slowly presses his lips against yours and you feel like your melting. it’s soft and sweet, he’s moving slow like he’s trying to savor it. your lips feel like they’re made to be against his, and you sigh his name against his lips. he pulls away and drops his hand, looking for a reaction from you. “still okay?” he asks. “yeah. ‘m okay.” you reply, leaning in to kiss him again. your lips press against the right side of his mouth, and they drift up to place one on his jaw. his sighs, and you’re placing your left hand on his bicep, gripping it as his hand drifts to your hip. he moves his head to catch your lips again, and the warm Texas sun makes the whole thing a little bit warmer.

you’re sneaking back to the house now. the sun had gone down significantly, but the purples and blues still lasted. John’s trailing behind you, hand clasping yours as you open the door. you sneak up the stairs and pause at the hallway between your two doors. he pulls you close, chest flush against his as he cups your face, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “i’ll see you in the morning.” he whispers before opening the door to his room. you nod, retreating to your own. as you go to the hall bathroom to shower, the warm water slows your mind down. slipping a nightgown over your head, you tug it down before brushing your teeth. your hair is damp and tangled as you walk back to your room, shutting the door. you hear John’s footsteps into the bathroom, followed by the squeaky shower pipes. turning to your mirror, you brush out your hair before laying down in your bed. you’re still up a hour later, mind racing over the days events. so you creep out of bed, open your door, and open John’s. he’s snoring softly, blankets kicked down to his thighs. an old band shirt sits on his chest, hand pushing it up to expose his stomach. he’s hairy, dark hair covering so much of him. you see the dark happy trail snake under his belly button and down to the v-in his hips. his boxer shorts fit loose on his legs, and you shut the door behind you. walking to his bed, you climb in next to him, curling into his side. his eyes flutter open and once he sees you, he relaxes. “hey.” he whispers, pulling his arms around you. you whimper into his neck and he kisses your cheek. “everything okay?” he says, hand tracing down your back. you nod. “i wanted to be with you.” you admit softly, curling your hands into his hair. he chuffs and smiles, pulling the blanket to cover you both. “goodnight-lovie’” he whispers as he sees you close your eyes.

PHEW!!!! LONG CHAPTER!!! MY FINGERS HURT!!! SO GLAD ITS DONE!!!!! SMUT IN THE NEXT CHAPTER! SIMON IS COMING NEXT!!!

-cass💕:D

[stevetonydatingsim]

Steve/Tony dating sim announcement & writer casting call!

The best part about a multiverse is all the different Steves and Tonys we get—and imagining them meeting. And kissing. And flirting. And maybe doing something a little spicier.

But why stick with imagining that when we can make it a reality? When we can make a Steve/Tony multiverse dating game? 

That’s right, we’re making a game and it'll be free to play! What exactly does that entail? The Steve/Tony dating sim (name TBD. We’re all ears for any ideas you have) will be a visual novel-style game that’s mostly dialogue with some simple minigames thrown in. You get to play as a Steve or Tony from one of the many universes that exist who’s thrown into a rift in reality with a bunch of other Steves and Tonys. You’ll get to decide whom to work with to invent, fight, flirt, and date your way back home. 

We’ll be sharing updates on the game development and launch on this Tumblr so make sure to follow us!

Who we are

The Steve/Tony dating sim team is made up of passionate Steve/Tony fans who have come together to write and illustrate the dating game of our dreams, coded by the wonderfully talented @v-thinks-on. You can read more about us here.

How this works

In order to make the game, we need writers for the player and love interest characters, artists for the visuals, and more. At this point, we’re looking specifically for love interest writers, but make sure to follow us as we’ll be looking for volunteers for other roles in the coming months!

Love interest writers can either work on their own or with a partner(s) to plot out and write a simple narrative arc and series of dates for a potential love interest character (a character that the player can choose to interact with and date). They construct the foundational beats for the story and dialogue for the love interest character, and they provide choices for player responses (you can indicate that the player can respond angrily, morosely, or happily to a certain line, but you’re not writing the player dialogue yourself). Later, player writers will insert responses to the existing love interest’s dialogue you wrote. It’s kind of like roleplay! 

For example, your script may look something like this:

Tony616 “So, you’re a Steve, huh” If <angry response>: Tony616 “Sorry I asked” If <happy response>: Tony616 “You’re a cheerful one, eh?” [the player gets closer to Tony616]

To get a more detailed understanding of how this works, see this guide here. We’re also happy to answer any questions, and we have a Discord server where we brainstorm and talk as a group.

Existing love interest storylines (more to come later!)

The following characters have arcs that are outlined already, and their writers are looking for a partner to collaborate with. Here are short pitches to give you a sense of each character’s emotional journey through the game.

616 Tony 

Iron Man V.1 128 Tony is newly sober for the first time and still hiding that he’s Iron Man. The player can either help Tony open up or drive him to drinking again. 

1872 Tony

Pre-canon Tony has lost faith in humanity and himself. Will the player convince him to get back on his feet? Or will he think everyone's better off with him at the bottom of a bottle?

616 Steve 

Avengers V4 Steve has just returned from the dead after his fight with his Tony about the Superhero Registration Act. He wants to trust Player, but can he?

MCU Steve

Post-2012 Avengers Steve is lost and doesn't know his place in the new century. Through his interactions with the player, he finds his home and purpose.

Don’t see a character you want to write for on this list? 

You can volunteer to write any Steve or Tony you want! In fact, we actively want more Steves and Tonys. This is a multiverse dating sim, after all, so the more the merrier. To help you choose, here is a list of universes we have writers for and available universes (if you want a universe not on this list, that means it's available)! Just contact us with the canon character you’re interested in writing for and whether you’d like to work solo or with a partner(s).

The only exceptions we have are a Steve or Tony who doesn't exist in the universe you picked (e.g., we won't accept Noir Steve as he doesn't exist in Noir) as well as Hydra Cap and Steves and Tonys who are canonically under 18 due to the nature of the game, the type of game people want to make/play, and how the game-making process works.

We don't foresee issues with other universes, particularly as we're in the "you do you"/"YKINMKATO" (your kink is not my kink and that's okay) camp when it comes to fandom. However, we'll be considering other universes on a case-by-case basis as we may not know or remember all the universes that exist. Because of this, we recommend giving more than one character option in your application if possible!

How to apply

Please email stevetonydatingsim@gmail.com with the following information:

Confirmation that you’re over 18 (just let us know you’re 18+; we’re not asking you to share personal info)

The best way(s) to contact you

What character you’d like to write for (universe and name). If you have multiple, please order by preference

Do you want to write alone or with a partner(s)?

A writing sample focusing on Steve and Tony (link or attachment), ideally with a good amount of dialogue. This doesn’t have to be a complete piece with a beginning, middle, and end; it's more to get a sense of your style and understanding of characterization, so all we ask is that it’s easy to follow. This can be something you’ve already written or you can write something new for this application. We don't have a minimum word requirement; if we need more from you, we'll let you know.

Contact us

Please don’t hesitate to contact us if you have any questions. You can reach us by email, Tumblr Messenger, askbox, Twitter DM, or Bluesky DM. Thank you!

[gallavichthings]

A.U.gust 2024

It's almost August again, so time for us to explore alternative universes and see all the other ways in which our boys could fall in love. 😊

For this year, each week will have a general theme, and anything that falls under that theme is allowed, as long as it's original. WIPs, updates or re-imaginings of your own previous works are also allowed (to use someone else's work as inspiration, please ask for their consent before starting).

As always, no sign-ups are needed for this event. Just make sure to mention me using @gallavichthings on the body of your post (you can hide it under a read-more or by using a reblog if you wish to). Posting here on Tumblr is mandatory, but you can host your work somewhere else and post only a link if you want to. There will, of course, be a collection on AO3 (to be announced later).

Some posting suggestions (nothing is mandatory, but it would be courteous):

Tags are to your own discretion, but I suggest tagging NSFW works or hiding them under read-mores (in case of visual posts - fics are normally not an issue).

If you post a long fic on Tumblr in its entirety, it's best to use a read-more in order not to make your post too long and take up a lot of space on people's dashboards and on the tags.

For posting multiple unrelated works on AO3, posting separate works and making them part of one series is better than making each work a chapter of one single fic. That way, you can tag it appropriately and people can more easily find the fic they actually want to read. (That doesn't apply, of course, if your fics are actually connected.)

And without further ado, the themes for each week (please note that a few examples were provided for each week, but they're just a small fraction of what can be done):

Week 1 (01/08-07/08): Seasons/ Holidays (Christmas AUs, summer vacations AUs, New Year's AUs, Halloweeen AUs...)

Week 2 (08/08-14/08): Past/Future (Pirate AUs, Cyberpunk AUs, 1950s AUs, Star Trek AUs...)

Week 3 (15/08-21/08): School/Work (High School AUs, College AUs, Office AUs, Coffee Shop AUs, Tattoo Shop AUs...)

Week 4 (22/08-28/08): Supernatural (Vampire AUs, A/B/O, Soulmate AUs, Superhero AUs...)

Week 5 (29/08-31/08): Free - since this is only half a week, these last three days will be for anything that does not fit any of the other weeks.

If you aren't able to finish your work in time to post it in the designated week, please wait to post it in the last three days. If your AU falls under more than one category, you may post in any week you prefer, according to what you judge to be the most relevant to your work.

I hope that is clear enough, but if not, send me a message and I'll be happy to explain anything further.

And if anyone is in search of some AU ideas, this post contains several AU prompts.

See you in a few weeks!

[sanguinesky-if]

[Dev Log] February 2025

Hello, I hope your winter days are going well!

This is the first dev log of 2025, which means the end of my January break and the resumption of:

▹ Patreon billing and monthly activity. ▹ Monthly dev logs.

Although I took things easier in January, I still worked on the story and have quite a bit to share about my progress.

What was done last month?

▹ Worked on the draft for Chapter 3 Pt. 2.

Since shifting the story format from a visual novel to IF, my draft has required some changes and updates. There are some scenes I'd like to include from the old version, but I hesitate due to the potential increase in workload [I discussed them on Patreon]. Even without those additions, Chapter 3 Pt. 2 is shaping up to be massive, and I already can tell it shouldn't be expected until late spring [assuming I decide against including those moments and scenes]. As usual, the most recent updates on my progress will be shared weekly on Patreon and monthly in the dev logs here on my blog.

▹ Refined stats and their distribution.

I began refining the stats distribution in December, but I also made some changes throughout January. Overall, the full list of changes includes: ▹ Refinement and redistribution of personal and hidden stats. ▹ Renaming the "Approval" stat to "Alignment" [this change will apply in the next update]. I'd like to thank this anon for the idea; I should have done it sooner. A few more words about the stats: Something about the personal stats feels… lacking. I can't quite pinpoint what it is, but I have a feeling I need to progress the story further to understand what's missing, so for now, I've decided to focus on Chapter 3 Pt. 2.

▹ Finished the shortcut to Chapter 3 Pt. 2.

I decided to take care of the shortcut feature in advance, and it took me some time to compile all the choices due to the variations readers can encounter in different scenes. While I may return to it later if I decide that some choices from Chapter 3 Pt. 1 should be included, I'm glad I finished adding all the essential parts.

▹ Improved some scenes and fixed numerous grammatical errors, as well as a few coding issues.

Here's a list of major changes: ▹ L's phone call scene [Chapter 2]: Added a reserved flirt option and made the non-romantic option available to everyone [these changes will apply in the next update].

▹ K's morning scene [Chapter 3]: The last assertive flirt option in K's scene no longer includes "I forgive you", so the reader is not forced to immediately let go of all the tension when choosing a flirt option. Small note: I have some reservations regarding the choices provided in K's scene after their apology, so I will likely post a poll on Patreon to gather feedback on this matter.

▹ Solo morning scene [Chapter 3]: Due to an oversight, the solo scene didn't include a variation where the reader decides not to talk to the MC's twin sister and immediately goes to sleep. This variation of the scene has now been added.

What will I be working on in February?

▹ Chapter 3 Pt. 2: translating the draft and outlining the files for coding.

In addition to that, the bonus content on Patreon that will be released this month will include:

▹ Morgan's NSFW Alphabet. ▹ K's NSFW Side Story POV [Interactive].

Author's note.

I'd like to extend my gratitude to everyone who took the time to send helpful error reports, asks, and kind messages! Your support and interest help me improve my story, which truly means a lot to me.

Thank you for reading to the end! Wishing you a wonderful week and days after that! ♥

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

dave :: @roweaf :: Yes Sir..!@FinancialReview

* * * *

A reflection on No Kings Day twenty four hours later.

June 16, 2025

Robert B. Hubbell

Readers continue to send photos of No Kings Day protests from across the nation. The Comment section for Sunday’s newsletter (here) is filled with enthusiastic descriptions of larger-than-expected pro-democracy rallies in small towns, red counties, retirement communities, and highway intersections in rural America—not to mention the mammoth rallies in New York, Philadelphia, Chicago, Boston, Nashville, St. Paul, Cincinnati, Austin, San Francisco, Los Angeles, San Diego, and Portland (among others).

If you would like a second jolt of positivity and hope, I recommend hearing directly from hundreds of readers who describe their rally experiences firsthand. Or watch this inspiring video by Medha Murtagh.

As I wrote yesterday, “This time, it’s different.” The No Kings Day rallies were a cultural touchstone that will be remembered as a pivotal moment in the effort to defend democracy against Trump's slow-rolling coup. Those who participated understand the power that has been unleashed. They know the path forward: Larger demonstrations, more widely disbursed, with greater energy.

Several reputable sources estimate the total turnout at approximately 5 million people. See USA Today, 'No Kings' organizers say protests drew large crowds: Here are their estimates. Counting crowds is tricky business, especially when those crowds are scattered across America. The Crowd Counting Consortium is making a concerted effort to generate a reliable total for the No Kings Day protests, and it may take a month or two to come up with an “auditable” number.

But one thing is clear: The No Kings Day protests were larger than Trump's vanity birthday parade by an order of magnitude. The low-energy, listless military parade was a disservice to the US Army. As many commentators have noted, many of the platoons1 were oddly “out of step” and their ranks were not straight, giving the appearance that the otherwise professional soldiers were shuffling into a football stadium rather than parading for their Commander-in-Chief.

See Times of India, Watch- Soldiers march out of sync at Trump's birthday parade; Netizens call it defiance. (Compare the second and third embedded videos in this article, which highlight the difference between the out-of-step soldiers in “Trump's parade” and the usual lock-step, straight ranks of US soldiers marching in other parades.)

While I don’t believe that there was an organized effort to demonstrate defiance by marching out of step, the visual effect was that of an undisciplined fighting force. See The Guardian, Trump coveted a military spectacle but his parade proved underwhelming: ‘Just kind of lame.

Perhaps Pete Hegseth believes that “marching in step” is not consistent with the “warrior ethos” that he is attempting to foist on the US military. (Remember when US soldiers were called “soldiers,” not “warriors?”)

In short, Trump's parade was a bust and an embarrassment, while the No Kings Day rallies were an incredible success. But as of Sunday, one of the largest single-day protests in American history has fallen off the pages of major media outlets.

As noted on a Bluesky post by Photoonist (@photoonist.bsky.social), as of Sunday afternoon, the NYTimes’ online edition had 38 stories—none of them relating to the No Kings Day protests, but three relating to Trump's vanity parade. See this chart posted by Photoonist:

Later in the day, the Times did add one story about the No Kings Day rallies—a story that focused on a tragic case of violence. See NYTimes, 1 Killed in Shooting at ‘No Kings’ Protest in Salt Lake City. (A person acting as “security” for the rally participants believed that a suspect was pointing a rifle at the crowd; the security person shot at the suspect but missed, killing a rally participant.)

In fairness, the Times did provide coverage of the No Kings Day protests on June 14 by running photos of protests from about two dozen locations around the nation. See NYTimes, Photos and Maps: ‘No Kings’ Day Protests Across the United States.

But there were thousands of protests across America—many in the reddest parts of the nation. Surely if MAGA protesters had turned out 5 million rally participants in Democratic strongholds, that would not be a one-day story for the Times. The protests on June 14 were a cultural phenomenon that deserved more than one article by the “newspaper of record” on the day of the protests.

Railing against the Times is a waste of time. For reasons known only to its publisher and editors, the Times ignores Democrats except for bad news and normalizes Trump’s criminal and unconstitutional behavior much of the time. True, it occasionally rises to the occasion, but only as part of a diabolical plan to torture us into believing that it understands the threat facing America, only to dash our hopes the next day.2

The failure of the press (generally) to report on the scale and scope of the protests makes it vitally important that you help spread the word. The demonstrations were a smashing success. The next call for national demonstrations must be at least twice as large. We need sustained, growing protests to make an impact.

Want proof? On Sunday, Trump ordered that ICE crackdowns increase in “blue” cities across the nation. See The Hill, Trump directs ICE to expand deportation efforts in Democratic-run cities. (Trump’s language was particularly offensive; I see no need to repeat it. But it’s included in The Hill article.)

As Trump is ordering increased enforcement in blue cities, he is also telling ICE to stop arresting farmworkers, hospitality workers, and restaurant workers. The net result is that there will be more arrests of nannies, school children, green card holders appearing in court, and “Hispanic looking” residents pulled randomly from the streets. See NYTimes, ‘I’m an American, Bro!’: Latinos Report Raids in Which U.S. Citizenship Is Questioned.

Sadly but predictably, the increased use of ICE as a roving paramilitary using Gestapo-like tactics (“Show us your papers”) will fuel the next wave of larger pro-democracy protests.

Readers frequently ask, “But what’s the plan? What next? Do protests matter?”

Yes, the protests matter because people who participate in protests are more likely to vote in the 2026 elections and they are more likely to convince others (especially family members and friends) to acknowledge that Trump is destroying the nation as he attempts to overthrow the Constitution. But most importantly, Trump is able to keep Republicans in line only because corporate America and hedge fund money allows him to primary any Republican who steps out of line.

Trump’s corporate overlords are watching the protests very closely. Getting five million people to show up on the same day for anything is impressive. The CEOs and marketing officers for major corporations certainly took notice of the scale and enthusiasm of the protests. And as the protests grow, the billionaires who run most of America’s large corporations will watch with growing interest.

We won’t change Trump’s mind. But his corporate supporters are susceptible to persuasion. And if they won’t budge, we will take back control of the House in 2026 and possibly the Senate—depending on how much of Medicaid, Medicare, prescription drug price negotiation, and insurance is cut in the reconciliation bill.

[Robert B. Hubbell Newsletter]

[brucewaynehater101]

So there's a fic that I think you will like. It's called The Definition of Valor by Nerdpoe. Really short, spoiler free summery. Instead of loosing his Spleen, Tim looses his eyes. He makes special gadgets to help him with this, such as a device in is cowl that scans the room he is in and tells him what is where via coded sounds, like say, two low A notes followed by a chirp means there is a wooden desk to the north east of him. He also makes a special computer program for his grapple so when he points it somewhere, it will adjust his aim so he never misses and always attaches to a good spot.

This fic is giving me *so many* thoughts about the potential fall out of this being found out not as soon as Tim gets back to Gothem because he never tells anyone. Specifically it's making me think about Tim who is Bruce's dad not telling Bruce because he doesn't want to worry his son. He doesn't want to worry his grandchildren/siblings either so he puts in colored contacts and wears glasses when his cowl isn't on. The glasses and an ear piece have the same tech as his cowl to tell him where everything is.

How long would it take them to find out? Tim would never tell them, so do they find out on accident because Tim forgot the contacts that are his normal eye color, or because Ras is mad at Tim and tells them what Ras did to Tim? Maybe he got to mad and while ranting at a Rouge (either Harley or Two Face would be especially funny if he's just been hanging upside down and ranting and raving fo 30 minuets already) over one of their traps, he accidentally lets slip that he's blind, or maybe he yells at Riddler, "Nygma, this isn't fair! I've been completely blind since last July and my usual tech that tells me what's around me is getting fucked by your signal jammer! So either read the riddle to me out loud or let me go!" and then later Riddler scolds one of the other Bats for letting the blind one do the visual puzzles much to their confusion.

Hi!!! I love that fic so much! Have you seen the sequel for it as well? It's short, but a great read. I would die for more of this concept.

In that fic, Bruce turns out to be a good dad. While I may hate Bruce, the way that guy handles the situation in that fic is fantastic.

However, I would like a fic where this concept gets a delayed reveal. In the AU, Tim figures out how to function without his eyes.

He engineers technology to read people's facial expression/body language to help him out. It reads words for him, etc.

I wonder what excuse he'd give for wearing the earpiece and glasses all the time. Maybe he says it's another aspect to separate Timothy Drake from Red Robin?

Just Tim gaslighting and girlbossing his way into pretending he can still see. I kind of want him to keep up the ruse for a long while.

When he does get found it, it'd be hilarious if the others forget he's blind. Tim has engineered technology to assist him, but he still can't see. So they'll try to take him to activities they did together when he could see (like star gazing) or they'll ask him what he thinks of the color of their outfit. He also ruthlessly uses his blindness as an excuse to mess with people. If Timothy Drake-Wayne is known to be blind, he'll use it to accuse Luthor of being ableist at every chance he'll get. He also bullies the shit out of governmental agents and companies that don't provide accommodations.

I'm also a fan of Riddler finding out about it, but him just changing his puzzles to be accommodating. I'm biased towards Riddler (I love him so much) so it'd be cool to see the silent show of support like that.

Another AU idea: When Tim blows up Ra's bases, the explosions cause him to become deaf or hard-of-hearing.

Dealer's choice on how much hearing he loses, but I feel like this could be great to explore deafness and misconceptions commonly held in our society.

Tim would probably already know how to sign and lip read (might even know multiple different sign languages), but he would face a few difficulties.

He chooses not to disclose his hearing loss

People often cover their mouths or face away from someone when speaking (which makes lip reading arduous)

Ableist people suck

The world is set up for hearing people, so a lot of issues stem from a lack of accommodations rather than Tim's ability to hear

Tim chose not to tell anyone about the change in hearing for a few reasons: he doesn't trust anyone (especially during his adjustment period) and he doesn't want to be underestimated (wants to prove himself in the field before they try to pull him from it).

As far as technology to help him, the comms were easier to program than other auditory inputs. Since they were designed to transmit clear voices, he merely has to train a program to automatically close caption whatever is spoken (the automatic ones used today are useful, but still make too many errors for Tim's preference. Some also only do words automatically and leave out helpful information like laughing, choking, screaming, computer dings, etc.). Each Bat member has their own designated color. For those he doesn't interact with often, it says their name before every time they speak up.

Tim incorporates the visual overlay into his goggles and glasses. He can read what people contribute to the conversation based on that. It also leaves his hands free so he doesn't need to look down. His wrist computer stores records of what has been said so Tim can go back over it if he misses it. He also has the ability to change where the words appear on his field of vision.

I also hc Alfred is the first to notice that Tim is staring intently at his lips when he talks and has difficulties with the conversation when Alfred changes the way he pronounces words or isn't facing Tim (this is before Tim's tech gets perfected). From then on, Alfred makes a point of facing Tim whenever the teen is in the room. They both don't talk about it until the rest of the family finds out (however long that takes).

Feel free to add more to either AU!

[the-nosy-neighbor]

I was going through text and sound today, looking for mentions of a thing (I'll talk about it later) being repeated, and I pulled up all the audio from the secret videos:

Because at this point, I've rabbitholed far, far away from where I meant to be. I had also gotten a bit distracted about "the numbers are so hard to read." I don't think I've ever read any theorizing including numbers.

And as I was watching these videos, I saw Wally reach out and tap his cup 3 times. So, I started over, noting the numbers that are said or visuals that you can count:

Poppy/Howdy: Can see 4 balls of yarn

Poppy/Sally: Wally taps 3 times, 2 geese because they are that puzzle kind

Sally/Howdy: There are 2 fruit loops right in our field of vision

Frank/Barnaby: 10 figures (an extra on each side you can see as the video slightly pans.) 3 tomatoes can be seen, with 1 squashed

Barnaby/Eddie: this one doesn't seem to have one? There are 2 or 3 letters on the screen, it's hard to tell

Julie/Frank: 6 figures, 2 tomatoes

Julie/Eddie: 4 crayons

Frank/Eddie: A ton of paper chains. I noticed during this scene that Eddie calls Frank "Frank" and then changes to Mr. Frankly, so it got me to wondering if the lack of number is because a plot point is in the segment. (I know, way out there)

Frank/Poppy: 6 apples on the board, 1 doily

Sally/Jules: 3 images on the script board, Julie makes 3 decrees, she demands 2, 20, 30 in hopscotch,

Julie/Barnaby: 3, 2, 1 (Remember to come back to look at Barnaby talking about being small) Also, here, Julie says "I have a joke that will knock your head off." That's not a typical way to say that. Usually, it's "knock your socks off" so I think we can assume that this is more headless Barnaby motif.

Barnaby/Howdy: 1 ice cream, 1 berry, 2 straws, 1 spoon

Howdy/Eddie: 5 apples, they say 1 and 2

Barnaby/Home: 3, 1, 2 , 4, 4, 2

I may be way off base here, but we've been told about the numbers for a while now. I also want to post another thing about numbers later.

I really don't think it would be accidental, but I don't really know how often numbers are used in a video/script/conversation naturally. Also, I would just be assuming that they wanted us to count things in front of us. That is kind of a crazy idea.

But on the other other hand, the videos are in a particular order (they are named with numbers). The going theory on that is that they progress through the day during the videos, first video being the morning and last video being the evening. But what if the videos are also numbered so that we can put numbers in the right order?

We also had this mechanic in the hidden sound clip naming, which allowed us to hear Wally's message in order. Numbers being ordered that way isn't too far fetched when considering the precedent.

In short, I don't know, but here are some numbers. I think there is something missing from this theory, in that we haven't been provided with a key to tell us what numbers count. Then we'd have to find some kind of way to translate those numbers into something usable.

Comments and ideas welcome. I will even accept and encourage telling me I've been staring at Welcome Home for too long..

I'm going to go find a random video and see how many times you get numbers or a repeated word.

[dinnytchi]

Information about the Death Note OC (actually self-insert) I've been drawing lately, intended to provide some context to the stuff I've been posting and be a reference to buy commissions later. This is probably completely unreadable on mobile, so pasting raw text under cut below.

Design Aspects

Hair: Brown, mild coppery tone. Long blunt bangs, sometimes pushed back behind one or both ears.

Clothes: "Matronly". Usually white, long-sleeved shirt with lace detail and grey wool skirt. Sometimes with grey wool sweater vest over top. Tall black lace-up boots, tights.

Posture/Gesture: Habitually stands/walks straight with hands folded in front. Probably taught to carry herself like this.

Small detail: Cross-shaped drop earrings (gold). Ring on ring finger of each hand (silver). Black ribbon around neck.

Ophelia - Character Information

Background: Eastern European (intentionally vague). Raised in a devoutly Roman Catholic institution (still seems to believe), received her initial education there. Bilingual.

Personality/demeanor: Mature. Obsequious. Submits to authority figures, tendency to cater overly to her friends/classmates. Speaks with a formal, sometimes flowery affect that sounds slightly unnatural and out-of-time.

May be a deeply repressed, intense person behind the controlled facade.

Relationships: Has male and female friends about equally. Particularly good friends with Mello (comes from the same part of the world as him, they have a lot in common). Madly in love with Near (unreciprocated, probably).

Passions: Deep love of literature and poetry, often has her head in a book. Writes and encourages Mello's authorial inclinations, though they have polar opposite narrative styles and pet subject matters. Black coffee enthusiast, drinks a concerning amount.

Strengths: Eloquent, self-disciplined. Unprejudiced and non-judgemental - others readily confide in her, trust her with their secrets, often even their real names.

Weaknesses: Melancholic. Lack of self-worth, identifies with being "useful" in some capacity rather than with achievements or bonds. Asks for nothing, gets nothing.

Random other information: INFJ. Virgo. Surprisingly active, physically fit. Primary/theme color is grey. 5'4" tall (visually taller than Near, slightly shorter than Mello). Age is vague/loose but she's about 15~16 in most illustrations and still at Wammy's House (I should probably create a separate design/outfit to differentiate the 20+ version). Has taken it upon herself to manage and be an altar server for the chapel attached to Wammy's House, is there often.