#ITS BEEN SO LONG SINCE 3.0

[fatuismooches]

I got this idea from another person’s head canon. After leaving the Academia, reader and Dottore’s Akasha terminals were confiscated. It was a sudden change when they started having dreams for the first time since they were kids. What would they dream of?

(HC by @/glassrowboat)

Zandik never used the Akasha Terminal extensively, much preferring to seek out and confirm knowledge with his own means and efforts, but if there was one thing he appreciated, it was the lack of dreaming it offered. He had to admit, the concept of dreams was vast and fascinating, but as for his dreams... they were a hindrance. Nothing could be learned from what he dreamt, as long as they were the same thing over and over. If Dottore was lucky enough, he'd dream of nothing at all.

But when he dreamt, he had nightmares. Zandik dreamt of the past, of flames and torches and a lone child. Of the present, of solitary moments and judgy stares. Unpleasant dreams, to say the least. Truly an annoyance, now he has to wake up, jarred from what his mind produces against his will, and remain ever so still, as to not wake you and cause you to fuss over his wellbeing. Still, it's not like he sleeps that much in the first place so it's not a major problem. Soon enough, hopefully, he won't even need to sleep in the first place (it never happens, the poor thing.)

You, on the other hand, would dream of rather... well, things any average person dreams of. Sometimes your dreams are normal... going out and spending time together and waking up confused that it didn't actually happen. Sometimes your dreams are of surviving the apocalypse with Zandik or slaying a monster with him or being super scientists in whatever the Genius Society was or-! Zandik wished he could take a peek and prod into that brain of yours, to know how you imagined such a variety of things. In a way, he's a bit envious... only for scientific purposes, of course.

Your favorite dream, however, is a peaceful, ordinary life with Zandik in the far, quiet side of Sumeru where every day is spent mundanely but happily. But there's a reason why that can only ever be a dream.

[yumenosakiacademy]

wanting 2 rewatch 3.0 4 the kawosh1n but not remembering a lot of what happened in 2.0 or the Eva terminologies n rebuild storyline auueee

[ghost-proofbaby]

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

"THE FIRST DATE"

EXTRA CONTENT - "BEYOND THE HOURS"

→ pairings: modern!college!eddie x college!fem!reader → warnings: strong language, upside down does not exist, minors dni → wc: 7k+ → a/n: the very long awaited first date. this was requested by several people. wahoo! also, fair warning for second-hand embarrassment. i think eddie munson is the only person who drag me dancing around a bowling alley and i wouldn't smite them on the spot.

enjoy the main story's masterlist here

EDDIE: What about a fancy dinner date?

YOU: boring.

YOU: and too traditional. when were you even born, Munson? the 60s???

EDDIE: Ha. Ha. I don’t see you making any worthwhile suggestions, sweetheart. 

YOU: i don’t have to make any suggestions, old man. YOU’RE supposed to be wooing ME 

God forbid anyone walked in on you at this moment. 

You were like a high schooler, lying on your stomach with your feet kicking up into the air as you stared at the screen, happily bantering with Eddie over text. All the butterflies, all the blissful jitters, all that dopamine rush that comes with school girl crushes – every single cliche was present and was in full force as you discussed the details of your first date with him. You used to scoff (albeit with hidden longing) at all the romance movies that you truly believed had overplayed all the giddiness, but now you got it. It was disgusting, the way he had you wrapped around his finger so easily, the way he had turned you into a heart-eyed shell of the woman you once were in the matter of a week. 

EDDIE: So you have a thing for older men is what you’re telling me.

YOU: i NEVER said that.

EDDIE: Didn’t have to, sweetheart. I can read between the lines. 

Over the last week, since the two of you had won the bet and you had won over with insistence on him properly asking you out, Eddie had been tossing around date ideas as he tried to plan this very first occasion. The only time you had even seen him was when your entire group met up, the latest outing having been for brunch on Saturday under the guise celebrating the one week anniversary of you and Eddie surviving twenty four hours together without killing each other. 

Didn’t stop him from calling and texting you. And it clearly hadn’t deterred him from losing his mind over doing right by you with this entire first date ordeal. 

YOU: i don’t even have the energy to explain to you how many times you have proven to not do that in the past. 

EDDIE: I’ve read between the lines in the past! 

YOU: you most certainly have NOT

EDDIE: I was able to read when you wanted to kiss me that night. That’s reading between the lines.

And so the giddiness rears its head, full fledged as heat swarms your body and your cheeks ache from your smile. 

YOU: i hate you 

EDDIE: No, you don’t

YOU: i do. i really do. 

EDDIE: You’re such a shit liar

You nearly jump out of your skin when there’s a knock on your dorm’s door, annoying and persistent as it taps out some random rhythm that must be a song of some sort. But whatever song it is, you can’t recognize it as you stand, walking over to answer. 

“Did you forget your key aga-” you begin, assuming it was just your roommate. You’re shocked to see Robin and Steve standing there, “What are you guys doing here?” 

“We had a study date, in case you had forgotten and not seen our hundreds of texts,” Steve huffs, quickly crossing his arms. 

You hadn’t seen their texts. Most of your screen time had been a bit preoccupied with a certain metalhead. 

“Oh, shit,” your face falls as you open the door wider, side-stepping and motioning for them to come in. 

“Yeah,” Steve snarks as he comes right in, Robin hot on his trails and seeming in a far more pleasant mood as the boy mocks you, “Oh, shit.” 

Robin stops beside you as Steve helps himself to a seat in your desk chair, “Don’t mind him. He’s just cranky because he has to get A’s on all his mid-terms to keep his 3.0.” 

“I am not cranky-”

“You are!” 

“Am not!” 

“You so are,” Robin continues to egg him on, choosing your bed as her resting place. 

Your phone bounces a bit from the way she throws herself down on the sorry excuse for a mattress, and you recall how you had yet to reply to Eddie. Fuck.

“When did we even make these plans?” you ask, genuinely confused as you shut the door. You already miss the peace and quiet of being alone, free to preen at your phone and giggle to your heart’s content at the world’s worst flirt over text.

“Saturday,” Steve groans, throwing his head back. 

“It was after brunch,” Robin clarifies, lifting herself up from how she was lounging amongst your blankets, “I mean, you seemed a bit distracted when you agreed, but… We did text you about it.” 

You had been distracted. Eddie had managed to quietly ask the waitress to include your tab with his so he could pay for it without your knowledge, and you’d spent the entire time torn between being upset with the boy and absolutely fawning. It was a bit pathetic, looking back at it – the fact that those were the only two options your mind had presented you with. You’d scorned him over the phone later that night, and he had only laughed. You swear you can still hear it now, having heard it several times since – a low chuckle that rattled into the caverns of your chest, that bounced amongst vines of affection and willed open blooms of adoration just a little bit wider. 

Part of you was still waiting for the wilting. For the other shoe to drop, for all of what had been exposed and had been planted to vanish from your grasps. That first Monday morning, you’d even woken up worried it had all been a dream. 

“I’ve been busy,” you lamely try to excuse your radio silence. 

“Busier than normal?” Steve’s brows quirk up, leaning back in your chair that emits a squeak of protest, “Or have you just been busy with new friends?” 

Your lips twist and your nose twitches in confusion, “New friends? What the Hell are you going on about, Harrington?” 

Robin fully sits up now, watching with piqued interest.

“Eddie,” Steve gets straight to the point, his previous sour mood finally melting slightly, “You can’t honestly tell me that nothing changed after that night.” 

It was something neither of you had really discussed. Steve had seen you two, knew that a lot had truly changed based off of the way you’d tossed him right into the middle of the mess there at the end, but you and Eddie had never said anything about being together. Not to your friends, and not even to each other. 

“Just because I don’t want to tear his head off his shoulders anymore doesn’t mean we’re spending every waking moment together,” you force your best scowl, as if that wasn’t exactly what you had yearned for all week. 

Eventually, it had to wear off. That’s what you told yourself – at some point the initial rose tones would fade less vibrant, and Eddie’s intense occupation of your mind would lessen with the hues. 

“I can’t believe it, but I am siding with Stevie on this one,” Robin finally contributes, “I mean, you guys won’t even tell us what happened that night.” 

“Nothing exciting,” you’re quick to lie, “Just… I don’t know. Boring stuff. Getting on each other’s nerves, sitting around on his couch,” that gets a bitter scoff from Steve that almost makes you freeze up. Damn Eddie for teasing him with the truth about the couch, “Nothing worth making a big deal over. Like I said, we just learned to… to… tolerate each other.”

Tolerate was an interesting way to put spending hours on the phone together each night, sometimes falling asleep while still on the line. 

Steve still looks as though he’s recalling all of Eddie’s annoying taunts from that night while Robin only grins salaciously. 

“Tolerate each other?” she mimics you, leaning forward and pressing her palms into the edge of the mattress beside her knees, “Babe, have you two even said a single mean thing to each other since that night? I think he even smiled at you on Saturday. You’re practically married with two and a half kids already.”

He had smiled at you – multiple times. And each one had struck the most delicate of daggers right into your chest, lighting you aflame under his attempted clandestine attention. Every time those big, brown eyes had met yours from across the table, the ache you’d started to hold for him had only doubled in size. By the end of that morning, when the day had technically started to bleed out into the afternoon, you were nothing more than a vessel of pining for the boy that you hadn’t even gotten the chance to brush against amongst your friends. 

“Whatever,” you murmur as you reach out to snatch up your phone, “I never even understood the whole half kid thing. Like, how the fuck do you have two and a half kids?” 

“I’m sure Eddie would be more than happy to show you,” Steve teases despite his still half-traumatized look.

You’re quick to reach out a hand to whack the back of his head, “Shut up. Are we gonna keep sitting here while you two try to pry something that doesn’t exist out of me, or are we going to go study?” 

Steve’s grumpy mood returns as he rubs the back of his head, him and Robin standing in sync to exit the room.

But before the three of you exit the dorm, you check your phone one last time, having to bite down on that girlish grin when you see two new text message notifications. 

EDDIE: It’s official. I’m a genius. 

EDDIE: Say, are you free tomorrow night? 

—

Tomorrow night couldn’t come fast enough. A shift at your job, one too many hours spent sitting through lectures, ensuring a night of studying with Steve and Robin — all petty distractions, roadblocks on your path to the most highly anticipated first date of your life. Eddie wouldn’t even entertain you with details, only telling you to dress fairly comfortably and to put on your best game face.

And you did. To some extent, you really did.

But you’d finished getting ready hours in advance, something you blamed on nerves, and having that much time to kill with such nerves was dangerous.

Simple makeup turned a bit more extravagant, you had tried on nearly every outfit in your possession, you’d even eyed your hair curler on more than one occasion.

Comfortable. What the Hell was that even supposed to mean?

Your only solution had been to text the man of the hour himself, something to busy your thumbs instead of twiddling them or involving them in taking your date night look several steps over just comfortable.

YOU: okay, so. can you define ‘dressing comfortably’?

EDDIE: According to Google, “dressing in a way that makes you feel at ease in your body” :)

YOU: fuck off. you know that’s not what i meant.

Still no clues. He wasn’t caving so easily to your pestering. You should have known better, considering he’d been professionally dodging any questions or inquiries you had regarding the date for the last twenty four hours.

EDDIE: Don’t overthink it, sweetheart.

That certainly didn’t help. Not even in the slightest. 

You don’t even reply to his text, already back to pacing your dorm before you finally cave to an impulsive decision you’d been grappling with for hours now. 

There was a newish, sporty skirt in the bottom of your drawers. It was comfortable, it had built-in shorts, and it looked damn good on you. The hem fell right around mid-thigh and always flared in an overly satisfying fashion when you’d spin while wearing it. The material of the pleats was nearly impossible to wrinkle. It wasn’t overly soft against your palms as you still nervously smoothed it down once you’d shimmied it on, but you still repeated the motion in hopes of soothing some of your nerves.

You’re sure it’s the wrong option until Eddie sees you in it.

He texts when he’s on his way and you find yourself bounding outside to wait for him far too early to be reasonable. He hadn’t even arrived until after your back had nearly become one with the brick exterior of the dorm building's front wall, leaning into the scratch of the clay on your shoulder blade a welcome distraction until you heard the roar of a motorcycle engine. 

You nearly grow dizzy from the sudden rush of nerves.

This is really happening. You’re about to go on a date with Eddie, the first time of what you hope will be many to come. 

“Took you long enough, Munson,” you snark loud enough for him to hear as he clicks the Yamaha’s kickstand into place right by the vibrant red curb. There’s a sign not even a full foot away from where he’s standing that clearly spells out NO PARKING. 

Oh.

Oh.

If you hadn’t already been riddled with nerves, your knees would have gone weak at the sight of him. 

Since when is that dressing casual and comfortable? 

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did I keep you waiting?” he shoots right back as he lifts the helmet off his head, and something inside of you clenched tightly at the sight with no plans to unwind any time soon.

Dark wash jeans plaster his legs, heavy combat boots smacking against the pavement as he walks to meet you halfway. The black shirt he’s donning isn’t extravagant, but something in the way that t-shirt material stretches across his chest has you burning from the inside out. He’s even gone so far as to tuck the shirt into the jeans, his black leather belt on show as he hugs the helmet below his bicep. And his normal leather jacket — you don’t believe you’ve ever seen it look better, ever seen it fit his shoulders so snugly. He’s dressed to perfectly match the all black bike, the image of a bad boy straight out of every cheesy movie you’d ever seen. 

The only thing that breaks the illusion is the boyish grin pulling the arrival of his dimples along with it as he watches you push off the wall. His eyes are sparkling as you approach him, a constellation of hope and new beginnings twinkling right before you. 

He’s not sorry that you waited on him. Not in the slightest. Especially when those starry eyes travel over your appearance.

You have to force yourself to tsk, because otherwise you might end up just another pile of ash for the poor landscapers to sweep up, “Haven't you heard it’s rude to keep a lady waiting?” 

You stop in your steps just far enough to catch the way his eyes take you in. Drinking slowly. Following the trace of the just fancy enough tank top that you’d chosen to balance the skirt. Lingering on the plush of your inner thighs, barely peeking out the bottom of your chosen outfit for the night.

You almost start to feel self conscious until he lets out a little sigh, nearly a whimper as his eyes trail back up to find yours.

“I’m sure I have,” he chokes out, composure momentarily vanished as you distract him so easily, “But aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” 

“I could say the same about you.” 

You’re like a shark. If you stop swimming in the upstream flirtations, you’ll drown instantaneously in his big brown eyes.

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” you swear you see a hint of a blush across the highs of his cheek bones and sides of his neck as he holds out the helmet for you, “At least with me, it will.” 

“Even the top secret location of this date?” you ask as you take the helmet, considering putting up a fight. You still hated him not wearing one for your expense, and you weren’t exactly eager for any sort of helmet hair, “Do I have to wear-“

He knows the end of your sentence before you even finish, “Yes. No exceptions; you have to wear it every time you ride.”

“Every time?” 

“It’s for safety.” 

“Isn’t it sort of unsafe for you to go without one?” 

“You’re wearing the helmet,” he sighs, nose twitching with indignation as he holds staunchly onto the position, “And to answer your other question, no. I guess flattery will get you almost everywhere, but it’s a surprise.” 

You fiddle with the chin straps, looking down as you feel his gaze burning the top of your head from this angle, “Fine. But we really should just get me my own helmet. You need to wear one, too. And…” you look back up, pausing before you properly put on the piece of safety equipment, “It’s a little oversized. You know, considering it was meant to fit your big head first.” 

He narrows his eyes, still lit up with a sort of playfulness you haven’t grown accustomed to being on the receiving end of. 

You like him quite a bit more than you bargained for. A lot more than five hundred dollars, or twenty four hours, ever would have summarized. 

“We can go helmet shopping another day.” 

We. Not just him, not just you. But you and him. A unit. A couple.

“It’s a date,” you whisper just before you slide on the helmet. You completely miss the wildfire that the ghost of a blush has finally become. You completely miss the way that your talk of you two together, you two as a couple with a future, affects him just as his has an effect on you. 

Helmet hair is worth it, you decide, once you’ve saddled onto the bike behind him and he revs up the engine once more. You’re not as shy as you had been on that fateful night the week before, quick to wrap your arms around his middle and let your chest press hard against his back. The leather crinkles against the contact, the heat of him radiating, and you think you could spend forever like that. 

You’re almost upset that you can’t smell his cologne through the helmet. That once terrible scent of boy. 

Every curve and every slow stop is another excuse to cling to him tighter, every red light a reason for him to turn his head and catch a glimpse of you with a small grin that never once falters. You swear at one of the lights, when he revs his engine in a particularly rowdy fashion right as the light turns green and takes off particularly fast, you can hear his laughter over the loud wind mingling with the roaring engine. You know you can feel it, vibrating in his chest right along with your own that gets lost in the chaos of the unusually busy Tuesday night street. 

When he pulls into the parking lot behind the older building, you catch sight of the neon sign out front and find yourself laughing again. 

“Bowling?” you question, yanking the helmet off less than gracefully as he stands off the bike you’d just swung yourself off of, “You’re taking me bowling?” 

He takes the helmet from you, suddenly looking a bit shy as he averts his gaze, “Not just any bowling. It’s… It’s the coolest bowling alley you will ever go on a first date at.” 

“You say that to every girl you bring here?” 

You’re just teasing him, trying to poke fun rather than succumb to all the fluttering that bruises your inner chest and stomach. But then he has to ruin your fun, strike a match and set you aflame so adroitly.  

“Only the prettiest ones.” 

You should continue the banter, challenge him on just who else fell into that category, but you can’t. It’s in that glimmer of his eyes and the indent of his dimples, the way he looks at you as he slowly rises and somehow softens his gaze all while keeping a threat of a bite beneath the tone. His eyes tell you that you are, without a doubt, the prettiest girl he’s referring to. That in this moment, you begin and you end his world, and not even the commotion of traffic or nip in the air that creeps up as the summer sun sets can deter his attention being set solely on you.

But his tone suggests something far more dangerous. He says it like you’re a prey, an unattainable catch that he’ll be chasing for the entire night. A wicked growl to that voice you’ve been falling asleep to over the phone far more than you care to admit in just a short week. 

He says it like he’s going to ruin you. As if he hasn’t already injected himself into your veins, as if he isn’t the gasoline drowning and raging the burn within you. 

But he keeps up the gentleman persona in the short walk up to the door of the establishment. Holds out his hand for yours to fit perfectly into, guides you to the inner sidewalk as cars fly past and the only thing between you and them is him. 

 The hunt is on from the moment he opens that door for you. 

“Ever the gentleman,” you muse, voice hardly above a whisper as you brush past him and finally catch that smell of boy. 

You think you’d drown in his cologne now if he gave you the chance. Bury your face in his chest, wrap your arms around him and press any inch of your own bare skin to his. 

“Always,” it would have been a weak response if he’d only said it and nodded his head, but he takes it a step further. Right as you pass him, entering the brisk AC, his hand ghosts over the expanse of your lower back. Fingertips nimbly brushing right above the band of that skirt, grazing your tank top just hard enough for you to feel it and shiver. 

It doesn’t stop there. The back and forth, the chase, the hunt.

The way he makes sure your knuckles brush his as he hands you your shoes, even more brushes of his palm flat against your lower back repetitively, the way he insists on a heavier ball that makes his arms strain and muscles display. Over the chatter from the bowling alley’s fairly nice bar and the music trickling out of the overhead speakers, you’re sure that your heartbeat has joined the ranks of audible noises to echo the nice haunt. You’re positive he can hear every thump, can pinpoint the exact moments that poor aching muscle inside your chest begins to race. 

You go for a smaller weighted ball. You don’t think you could handle anything heavier with your current case of weak knees.

“Only an eight pounder?” Eddie tuts at you as you approach your designated lane again, “Come on, sweetheart. You can do better than that.” 

No, I can’t. Your fault, really.

“I have weak arms,” you try to defend yourself as you rotate the red ball in your hands. 

His favorite color. It hadn’t been intentional, but the swirling shades of stark scarlet and deep maroons is a nice touch. 

“Poor baby,” he teases, leaning into you as you deposit the ball right behind his own ball on the track where it already rests.

A twelve pounder. A smoky quartz design, black base swirling with misty white and gold accents. Far prettier than yours by a landslide. 

And fitting for the pretty boy you’re faced with when you turn to watch him shedding his leather jacket onto the bench a few steps away. 

“Not all of us are some big, strong macho man,” you scowl insincerely, moving to sit beside him and follow his lead in switching out shoes, “I’m betting now that by halfway through the game, you’ll be caving and begging to use my ball, Munson.” 

You’re looking down as you casually say it, one shoe already half off and unaware of just how close he had gotten until his hand reaches over. Not even a second later, he has your chin pinched between his fingers, gentle as it guides you and forces you to look at him, “Careful. Bets seem to be awfully dangerous when it comes to the two of us.” 

Damn him. Damn him, damn him, damn him. 

The graze of those fingers against your jaw leaves a trail of ash, burning that lingers and thrums beneath your skin, heart officially skipping beats rather than merely speeding up. You’re coming to realize that when it comes to keeping up with Eddie Munson in his element, in all his charm and flirtatious banter, you’re a bit hopeless.

He has you trapped under his thumb — metaphorically and literally.

“Are you always this flirtatious with all your dates?” you spit out against your better judgment.

Why do I keep bringing up his previous flames? Do I really care? Do I really want to put myself through the torture of hearing about all of the girls, or guys, he’s wooed before me? 

The same glittering eyes, the same hidden smirk from earlier. “Only the prettiest ones.” 

“You keep saying that,” you mumble, chin pressing into his fingertips against their hold, “Just how many pretty dates have you had?” 

The pride softens in an instant. His gaze is less sharp, grin less predatory as he raises his eyebrows. 

“Does it really matter?” 

You can’t help it. Your mind races ahead of you before you can stop it; you’re plagued in an instant with images of how many dates, how many other people he had indulged in over the year you two had wasted hating each other. You try to recall overhearing him describe any of those dates, try to remember if Nancy ever mentioned Eddie passing up one of the hangouts for a romantic endeavor.

You come up empty handed, but it doesn’t stop the overthinking. 

“I guess not,” you feebly answer, unable to tear your eyes from him. 

I guess not is really code for it matters so much more than I care to admit. An impossible riddle you can’t even expect him to pick up on. 

His hand falls from your chin and finds home on your bare knee, warm palm swallowing it up. He gives it a squeeze, and you wonder for a moment if maybe he can read your secretive language. Maybe he’s seeing right through your overconfident front, maybe he has felt every racing of your pulse. 

Maybe, he’s as nervous as you are.

He opens his mouth to say something, but you don’t think you can bear another moment of this new intimacy. It had been easier when the two of you were on a ticking clock, confined to his apartment and parameters of a bet that never really mattered. Vulnerability had less of an edge when you could yearn and pine to see it flourish in the real world — but now, here it was, twisting away within you both a week later and pricking away as the stakes at hand come to light. 

“Are you ready for me to absolutely demolish your ass at this game?” you joke.

“Demolish me? That’s some big talk for someone using an eight pound ball, babe.”

“It’s not about how much you’re packing, pretty boy,” you scoff, “Just that you know how to use it.” 

He smiles slowly, but the quick squeeze of his hand tells you the vulnerability is here to stay. He feels that cutting edge too, and he’s not shying away. 

He leans right into it, just as he does your personal space, “Bring it on.” 

—

“You’re cheating!”

“I’m not!”

“You are! Who the fuck gets three strikes in a row?” 

Eddie strolls back towards you, self-satisfied smirk curling his lips and his hips swaying with arrogance as you continue to pout at his sudden show of sportsmanship, “I believe the answer is me, sweetheart. Wanna see me make it four?” 

“I hope you just jinxed yourself,” you scowl as you hop up off the couch and Eddie swaggers right past you, hardly affected by the palm you smack into the center of his chest for good measure, “I hope you roll nothing but gutter balls the rest of the game, you prick.” 

“Like you have been?” 

“Burn in Hell.” 

Eddie’s cackle echoes through the fairly busy alley. It wasn’t overwhelming, the lanes of either side of yours staying empty, the only other groups several ways down. So far, the date has been good. Even if Eddie was wiping the floor with your severe lack of skill. 

Both of you had opted for Cokes rather than alcohol, Eddie had ordered some sort of platter with onion rings and mozzarella sticks that the two of you had easily been devouring between turns. Playful banter had been kept up easier than breathing, barking words without bite being snapped back and forth loud enough for the entire establishment to hear the two of you being exceptionally childish. 

At some point, your nerves had melted. And you didn’t even need a lick of alcohol in your system for it to happen. 

“Try to aim for the pins this time,” Eddie continues to taunt you from where he’s spread out on the brown faux leather bench you’d been taking turns warming the seat of. 

Your fingers slide into the holes of your ball with ease, courtesy of the grease from all your snacking, “Try shutting the fuck up.” 

More of his laughter sounds off, and you nearly trip on your walk up to the markings on the linoleum wood flooring. It’s a nice sound; a beautiful response to words that could easily read identical to how the two of you used to fight. But these aren’t fighting words, they’re words passed between two… two… friends? 

Is that how you should continue to classify this? Were you and Eddie really still just friends? 

The sound of your ball stuttering in hops across the beginnings of the lane replaces his laughter 

No. Easy question – there wasn’t a doubt in your mind that the two of you were definitely not friends. Not enemies, not friends – something different and something unspoken. And for the remainder of this date, you could live with that. 

Eddie sucks in an audible breath, letting the air whistle between his teeth as your ball veers at the last second and misses the pins entirely. Again. 

“Th-”

“Don’t,” you interrupt him, spinning on your heel and holding up a warning finger. It’s harder to hold in your own grin when Eddie’s already smiling into his fist, leaning his elbows onto his thighs as his big eyes peer at you, clearly amused, “Don’t say a word.” 

His knuckles dig further into his mouth.

“I meant to do that.” 

His eyebrows shoot up, still not speaking.

“It takes real talent to avoid pins like that.” 

He leans over a bit further, and you swear you hear him emit a snort from behind that damn fist. 

You open your mouth to continue with the bit when the clattering of your ball returning to the ball rack comes from behind you. Eddie only shrugs cheekily as he finally drops his fist to grab for a mozzarella stick, his smile contained but those damn dimples still flashing you brilliantly. 

Without taking your eyes off him, you hold up a warning finger for emphasis once more, trying to bite down any signs of your own amusement as you take a few steps back in the direction of the rack and repeat yourself, “I meant to do that.” 

“Sure you did,” he muses before taking a bite of the mozzarella stick smothered in marinara sauce. 

“I did.”

“I believe you.” 

“I-”

It seems the Universe is in the business of interrupting you two. As if it seems all that hope and potential flourishing in the space between you two and decides that simply won’t do. As if it’s too much. 

Maybe it is. But maybe, just maybe, you’re enjoying too much. 

Suddenly, before you can even finish your sentence or grab for your ball, the lights of the alley have dimmed. A few spotlights over the alleys themselves light up, erratically waving patches of light over the shining floor as the music that had been playing overhead cuts out to be replaced with some poor employee’s voice. 

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen-” you and Eddie share a confused glance, “-The time is officially ten o’clock, meaning nineties night has officially begun! Have fun, and enjoy yourselves as we throw you back to the decade of Nirvana and Beanie Babies for the rest of the night with these straight jams.” 

Your face scrunches up in a comical cringe before the buzzing static of the speaker can even cut out and the beginning lines of Say My Name by Destiny’s Child begins to play. 

You aren’t entirely sure of how it happens. Maybe it’s all the playfulness in there, in all that electric teasing at the tip of Eddie’s tongue and all that hopelessness bubbling up in your chest as it dawns on you of the fact you were finally on a proper date with Eddie. Maybe it’s simply a good night for you to continue to make a fool of yourself, and Eddie sees it as a chance he’ll always be right there with you, prepared to make a scene as he follows your lead. 

He stands up to approach you where you’re still rooted beside the rack, matching your own grin that blooms genuinely at the sound of the song. 

It was one of your favorite’s. A small fact about yourself you don’t think you’ve ever told Eddie – that you can remember. 

It’s small, at first. Just mouthing along to the first verse as he moves towards you, recognizing that excitement lighting up in you, shimmying his shoulders ever so slightly. He looks like an idiot – he’s absolutely your idiot. 

“Did you know it was nineties night?” you mumble as he gets closer, shaking your head slightly.

“Stevie might have mentioned something about you enjoying nineties nostalgia,” he drawls, still taking sure steps towards you. 

“Did you ask him for advice for our first date, Eddie?” 

“No,” he scoffs quickly, finally close enough to grab you gently by your hips. He’s nowhere near manhandling you, but it’s still reminding you of the game, of the hunt, at play. You’re his prey and he’s officially making his move. Carelessly, nonchalantly. “He mentioned it ages ago. When they were trying to convince me you weren’t all bad.” 

Your smile widens, “Was this around the time I threw a glass at your head, by chance?” 

“Maybe.” 

The dulcet instrumental of the song continues on overhead, beginning to pick up in beat, making you nod your head along as Eddie finally starts to tug you closer. 

You’re in public, and you both should know better than to make absolute fools of yourselves, but it doesn’t seem to matter when all you can really see is him. 

Your friends had also spent ages trying to convince you that Eddie wasn’t all bad, but you’d always known that much. You’d seen glimpses of the good in him from that very first night. When he’d made you feel welcome, when he’d given you a life-preserver to cling to when you’d felt most out of your element. You knew that Eddie Munson was one of those people who had a hardwired habit of trying to make people feel welcome.

Even in a room full of people, when you’d be non-stop embarrassing yourself endlessly. 

All his jests had been further proof, but when he sees your rock on your heels as you enjoy the music, he takes it a step further. He grabs one of your hands with his free one, keeping a hold of your waist, encouraging all your giddiness over the song. Every single person in the establishment could be staring at the two of you – you didn’t care. 

When he starts dramatically mouth along to the chorus of the song, swinging you around slightly, it takes very little provocation for you to join in with him. 

You both could’ve taken a step further, and properly sang along in the most obnoxious voices possible, but you don’t. There’s still the slightest blanket of security there as Eddie keeps the antics mostly silent, reserving his dramatic reenactments of vocal runs for your eyes only. Even yanking your hand up close to his mouth, as though it was a microphone, as he swings you around again. You quickly become a giggling disarray, hardly able to keep up your own footing, eyes squinting with joy and what must be the messiest and ugliest smile possible showing off all your teeth. The type of smile and laughter you’d normally try to hide on instinct. The kind of smile you cover up. 

But you can’t, because Eddie is keeping his sturdy grip on your hands with his own, and he’s drinking in every second of your joy. He’s vibrant as he watches the way he’s entertaining you. Shamelessly staring, making his antics falter. 

“Baby, say my name,” he purposefully sings along dramatically, quietly but terribly off-key.

You can’t help but let out a snort, “Eddie, you’re an idiot.” 

He ignores you, and continues to give you your own private concert, switching rapidly between singing the main song and the backup vocals, which only makes your stomach further ache with laughter. 

This is what you’d been yearning for the last year. This silly side of him, an absolute fool who couldn’t care less about the stares of others. 

The seductive side of him was enticing. The honest version of him nice. But this side of him? Carefree, rowdy, indiscreet? It may be your favorite yet. 

Only the sound of a nearby teen couple mocking you two break the moment, just as you’ve begun to jokingly whisper-sing back into Eddie’s pretend microphone made of your joined fists. They make what must be vomiting noises, and you catch the tail end of one of them jokingly poking a finger towards their outstretched tongue as you finally sigh deeply. 

You should probably feel embarrassed. Later on, when you find yourself in bed later tonight and attempt to find some rest, you’ll probably ruminate and burn yourself alive with all the embarrassment. But not right now; not with your boy still in front of you, smiling just as desperately wide as you were. 

His dimples would probably consume him if you let him go on any longer. 

“Eddie,” you choke out through residual laughter, tugging your hands free as the song starts to fade out. You make no move to remove yourself from him, though. Your arms find home around his shoulders, hands splayed just below the nape of his neck, “People are staring.” 

“Good,” he snipes back, finally dropping the act but not the glee, “Probably entranced by how pretty you look right now.” 

“Pretty? I probably look like a loser. They’re probably already engraving a trophy for world’s ugliest smile-”

“Oh, don’t do that,” his forehead falls against yours, rolling his eyes, “Shut up and take the compliment. I love your smile.” 

There’s something unspoken there. He loves your smile, yes, but he’s also been denied of it for a very long year. It’s the first step of making it up to you, making up for lost time. 

Making a fool out of himself, just to see that goddamn smile. 

With your arms around his neck, his forehead pressed against yours and the tip of his nose bumping yours, the game of bowling is all but forgotten. Even the teens, still side-eyeing the two of you, can be pushed aside in your mind. 

All your insecurities of the night that have crept in the shadows become insignificant. You don’t care how many dates Eddie has been on before you, you don’t care that you’ve clearly become a prey caught in his web. You don’t even care about the way you’re losing. 

It’s the perfect first date. When one of his hands wander, playing with the hem of your skirt, knuckles and rings brushing against bare skin, it’s perfect. 

“Hey,” you whisper, “I’ve got a question.” 

“I have an answer.” 

“You sound very sure there, big guy.” 

“I am sure,” he pulls his face away just a bit, but his gentle touch against your thigh lings. The other hand stays warm against your lower back, keeping you pressed up against him, “What’s up, sweetheart?” 

Not enemies, not friends – something different and something unspoken.

Hearing him say it out-loud will still be nice, though. 

“Does this mean we’re official?” you breathe out, trying to cling to all your bravery and not let it slip away, “Like – God, I sound like a high schooler right now – does this mean we’re… you know…”

“Dating?” he’s grinning, unable to hide his giddiness. 

“Yeah. Dating.” 

The hand tracing circles on your exposed outer thigh rises up to your cheek, brushing along it as he tucks a bit of your hair back. You swear you see it shaking out of the corner of your eye. 

“I sure would like to be,” it was shaking. You know it surely, because his voice is as well. Vulnerable and honest, just how you like him, “We don’t have to tell the others, we can take it slow, but-”

“But we’re dating.”

It’s not a question. It’s a statement – an affirmation. You and Eddie Munson, the man you swore you hated just over a week ago, were dating. 

He only nods, and you consider the way that his dimples might just swallow you whole instead of him. 

Not enemies, not friends – lovers. It has quite the nice ring to it. 

“Well, in that case,” you finally pull away, dropping your arms slowly and letting your fingers catch on the chain of the necklace he currently wears. A red guitar pick, something you’ll surely learn the story behind soon enough. “Better go and roll that fourth strike, boyfriend.” 

His head rolls back, and a joking groan falls from his lips as his neck stretches and nearly distracts you momentarily, “Don’t say it like that.” 

“Like what?” 

“Like you’re making fun of me, you little shit.” 

Another laugh falls from your lips as you step around him, quirking an eyebrow. Perfect first date, indeed. 

“Get used to it, Munson.”

“I plan to, Sweetheart.”

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea @kellsck @cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking @witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore @mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog @vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria @loveryanax @stylexrepp @princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles

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[slitheringghost]

On Sirius’s hair

In this meta I want to explore a topic of the highest importance: Sirius’s beautiful elegant hair.

I’m going to go through all the mentions of Sirius’s hair in the series and weave out some interesting characterization elements from the passages.

1.0 Prisoner of Azkaban

Firstly, we have Sirius in and straight out of Azkaban, the state of his hair signifying the abhorrent conditions in which he had to live, and notably, Harry identifies with Sirius’s hair before even meeting him or knowing anything about him:

He shot a nasty look sideways at Harry, whose untidy hair had always been a source of great annoyance to Uncle Vernon. Compared to the man on the television, however, whose gaunt face was surrounded by a matted, elbow-length tangle, Harry felt very well groomed indeed. (PoA 2) A large photograph of a sunken-faced man with long, matted hair blinked slowly at Harry from the front page. (PoA 3) A mass of filthy, matted hair hung to his elbows. If eyes hadn’t been shining out of the deep, dark sockets, he might have been a corpse. (PoA 17)

2.0 Goblet of Fire

Then Sirius’s hair is described as short in GoF, signifying his recent (relative) freedom out of the country:

When they had said good-bye, Sirius’s face had been gaunt and sunken, surrounded by a quantity of long, black, matted hair — but the hair was short and clean now, Sirius’s face was fuller, and he looked younger, much more like the only photograph Harry had of him, which had been taken at the Potters’ wedding. (GoF 19)

This quote implies that Sirius had short hair during the Potters’ wedding, presumably in 1980. (Since his long hair is elbow length, I assume short hair for Sirius means like, shoulder length at shortest.)

His hair regresses back to its previous untidy state when Sirius is hiding in the Cave:

Sirius was wearing ragged gray robes; the same ones he had been wearing when he had left Azkaban. His black hair was longer than it had been when he had appeared in the fire, and it was untidy and matted once more. He looked very thin. (GoF 27)

3.0 Order of the Phoenix

In OoTP Sirius’s hair is emphasized quite a bit.

Moody says that Sirius had short hair in the Order photograph taken likely sometime in 1980, which fits with him having short hair during the Potters' wedding:

“Sirius, when he still had short hair” (OoTP 9)

In contrast to the short hair Moody mentions, Sirius's hair is consistently described as long throughout OoTP, alluding to his lack of proper grooming and awful mental state:

Then a man with long black hair came charging out of a door facing Harry. (OoTP 4) There in the middle of the dancing flames sat Sirius’s head, long dark hair falling around his grinning face. (OoTP 14)

At one point it's described as untidy, again implying that Sirius is not taking care of himself in the midst of his depression locked up in Grimmauld Place, and parallels Harry doing the same while locked up at the Dursleys:

Harry whipped around; Sirius’s untidy dark head was sitting in the fire again. (OoTP 17) He glanced at the people surrounding Lupin; they were still gazing avidly at him. He felt very conscious of the fact that he had not combed his hair for four days. (OoTP 3)

Then we have the following passages, which in a way represent the core of Sirius and Harry’s relationship:

He was very good-looking; his dark hair fell into his eyes with a sort of casual elegance neither James’s nor Harry’s could ever have achieved, and a girl sitting behind him was eyeing him hopefully, though he didn’t seem to have noticed. (OoTP 28) Panting slightly and sweeping his long dark hair out of his eyes, Harry’s godfather, Sirius, turned to face him. (OoTP 4) “What is it?” said Sirius urgently, sweeping his long dark hair out of his eyes and dropping to the ground in front of the fire, so that he and Harry were on a level; Lupin knelt down too, looking very concerned. “Are you all right? Do you need help?” (OoTP 29)

Sirius’s eyes are covered by his hair in the first quote, while in the bottom two when he’s looking at Harry he makes sure to sweep his hair out of his eyes - the implication here is that Sirius is deliberately meeting Harry’s eyes as he speaks to him, he's truly seeing him, and he's lowering himself to Harry’s level to do so, representing Sirius treating Harry as an equal, compared to Voldemort who has his "true family" bow and kneel at his feet.

This gesture is echoed by Lily in DH - with the implication that Lily's face and eyes aren’t visible to Voldemort, while the Lily from the Resurrection Stone pushes back her hair to meet Harry’s eyes (expansion on that in my meta Unweaving Canon Lily: Master Of Death).

A door opened and the mother entered, saying words he could not hear, her long dark-red hair falling over her face. (DH 17) Lily’s smile was widest of all. She pushed her long hair back as she drew close to him, and her green eyes, so like his, searched his face hungrily, as though she would never be able to look at him enough. (DH 34)

It's also echoed by Morfin with Tom Riddle in HBP, in this case drawing a contrast between the former two characters:

Morfin pushed the hair out of his dirty face, the better to see Riddle, and Harry saw that he wore Marvolo’s black-stoned ring on his right hand. (HBP 17)

Morfin performs the same gesture, but right after, he says “I thought you was that Muggle. You look mighty like that Muggle.” Morfin pushes his hair back not to look at Tom hungrily like Lily, or with familial welcome and worry like Sirius, but to see how Tom looks like the Muggle man Morfin wanted to attack and/or kill, signifying Tom's own rejection from his family.

Another highly important mention of Sirius's hair is Umbridge trying to grab it when she catches him in the Floo - which is the exact same thing she does to Harry, victimizing them in the exact same way:

A hand had appeared amongst the flames, groping as though to catch hold of something; a stubby, short-fingered hand covered in ugly old-fashioned rings… The three of them ran for it; at the door of the boys’ dormitory Harry looked back. Umbridge’s hand was still making snatching movements amongst the flames, as though she knew exactly where Sirius’s hair had been moments before and was determined to seize it. (OoTP 17) Harry felt a great pain at the top of his head. He inhaled a lot of ash and, choking, found himself being dragged backward through the flames until [...] he was staring up into the wide, pallid face of Professor Umbridge, who had dragged him backward out of the fire by the hair and was now bending his neck back as far as it would go as though she was going to slit his throat. “You think,” she whispered, bending Harry’s neck back even farther, so that he was looking up at the ceiling above him, “that after two nifflers I was going to let one more foul, scavenging little creature enter my office without my knowledge?" [...] shaking the fist clutching his hair so that he staggered [...] "With whom have you been communicating?” “No one —” said Harry, trying to pull away from her. He felt several hairs part company with his scalp. “Liar!” shouted Umbridge. She threw him from her, and he slammed into the desk. (OoTP 32)

Harry and Sirius being victimized in the same ways is, of course, a recurring theme in OoTP.

Finally we have Sirius's hair described during his death:

[…] nothing mattered except that Lupin stop pretending that Sirius, who was standing feet from them behind that old curtain, was not going to emerge at any moment, shaking back his dark hair and eager to reenter the battle — (OoTP 36)

Just like Harry mentions Sirius’s handsomeness even as he’s dying (And Harry saw the look of mingled fear and surprise on his godfather’s wasted, once-handsome face as he fell through the ancient doorway), he also mentions Sirius's beautiful hair right afterward.

4.0 Notes on other characters

Sirius's hair described as untidy also connects him to the image of Harry’s father in the Mirror of Erised; Harry’s major father figures - Sirius, Snape, and Voldemort - can all be described as “tall, thin, black-haired” like in the Mirror of Erised, and all of their hair is compared to Harry's at one point:

The tall, thin, black-haired man standing next to her put his arm around her. He wore glasses, and his hair was very untidy. It stuck up at the back, just as Harry’s did. (PS 12) Tall, thin, and black-hooded, his terrible snakelike face white and gaunt, his scarlet, slit-pupiled eyes staring… (OoTP 36) Harry, on the other hand, was small and skinny, with brilliant green eyes and jet-black hair that was always untidy. (CoS 1) A boy of about sixteen entered, taking off his pointed hat [...] He was much taller than Harry, but he, too, had jet-black hair. (CoS 13) every odd thing that had ever made his aunt and uncle furious with him had happened when he, Harry, had been upset or angry... chased by Dudley’s gang, he had somehow found himself out of their reach... dreading going to school with that ridiculous haircut, he’d managed to make it grow back... (PS 4) “Definitely,” said Snape, and even with his poorly cut hair and his odd clothes, he struck an oddly impressive figure sprawled in front of her, brimful of confidence in his destiny. (DH 33)

The same idea is used to draw the familial connection between Sirius and Bellatrix, by emphasizing their similar looks including their hair:

Her face had leapt out at him the moment he had seen the page. She had long, dark hair that looked unkempt and straggly in the picture, though he had seen it sleek, thick, and shining. She glared up at him through heavily lidded eyes, an arrogant, disdainful smile playing around her thin mouth. Like Sirius, she retained vestiges of great good looks, but something — perhaps Azkaban — had taken most of her beauty. (OoTP 25)

5.0 Conclusion

To summarize, descriptions of characters hair and the parallels weaved in is often used to illuminate character development and dynamics, especially familial or pseudo-familial dynamics.

[innuendostudios]

by a wide margin the weirdest video essay I've ever release: List of Songs that Represent "Smart Music" Ranked from Most to Least Appropriate to Put in a Video Essay

this video is sponsored by Nebula, where you can watch ad-free and (sometimes, slightly) better edited versions of my videos for 40% off an annual subscription. just follow this link.

as a quick note: YouTube has already demonetized this video, as two different corporations are claiming copyright on recordings they do not own the copyright to - both are Creative Commons recordings of public domain music, that, in one case, YouTube has misidentified as a different recording, and, in the other, YouTube has the music in its database as under copyright despite it being having been released under CC BY-SA 3.0. I am disputing these false claims and will (hopefully) get whatever money I am owed, but, for now, YouTube is not paying me a dime for this.

so it would be a bigger help than usual if you would either watch the video on Nebula or back me on Patreon.

thanks. transcript below the cut!

List of Songs That Represent “Smart Music” Ranked From Most To Least Appropriate To Put In A Video Essay (And Presented In Drill Bit Order).

1. Clair de Lune, Debussy

This has been top dog ever since the teaser for Godzilla: King of the Monsters, and cemented its position against challengers with a showcase in Everything Everywhere All at Once. Said film could have been the shark-jumping moment where the song was irretrievably lost to irony, given directors Kwan and Scheinert (Daniels)’s style mercilessly marries the aesthetics of prestige and shitpost. Yes, despite its silliness, EEAAO is achingly sincere, but could the general public be trusted to recognize that? But then it won Best Picture, so apparently yes! Beautiful, delicate, to score a film or video with Clair de Lune signals a desire to be seen not only as an intellectual, but as an aesthete. The song could lose potency if the Clair de Lune sequence were parodied enough, but how does one parody EEAAO???

9. Gymnopedie No. 1, Satie

I fear we must, as a society, and as a community of video essayists, move on from Gymnopedie No. 1. It held the title longer than, I think, any champion previous, and for that it deserves merit. But its time is over. It is, like the phrase “mad dated,” mad dated. It is saying “lmao” out loud. Did you know the original screenplay for 2005 film The Island specifically stated that, in the weird culty enclave in which the film opens, Gymnopedie No. 1 must be playing over the loudspeaker? I don’t think Michael Bay followed that directive (I’m not rewatching the movie to find out), but that is how long this was the “Smart Music” song - since 5 months after YouTube launched. If you must - absolutely must - put Satie in a video essay, use Gnossienne No. 1, though it too is on its way to passe. At this point I’m prepared to say Vexations or GTFO.

2. Ave Maria, Schubert/Liszt

Nothing was certain after Satie vacated the throne, and for a while it seemed we might have a Starks vs. Baratheons situation between Schubert and Debussy. Following several appearances in pretentious YouTube videos, the Ave Maria made its strongest showing yet by scoring the opening scene of the grimdarkest Batman film so far, an entire twenty days before getting fully Lannister’d by Everything Everywhere All at Once. Unbowed, unbent, and unbroken, still she nips at the heels of the king, and may yet take his place. No one else poses a comparable threat. Hers is a curious strategy, being a religious, Christmas, and even classic Disney standard now repurposed as “Smart Music;” she gets a big boost every December, but can she take the top spot before this cyclical exposure nudges her back into a prior niche?

8. Moonlight Sonata, Beethoven

If you were in a film program in the mid-2000s, you are sick to death of Moonlight Sonata. Also if you were in a music class where you were asked to determine a song’s time signature by ear - how am I supposed to tell the difference between waltz time and 4/4 with all triplets without the sheet music in front of me? To say scoring a video with Moonlight Sonata is a hack move - you’d have to be a hack to not already know! This was the soundtrack to the blind cave salamander level of Earthworm Jim 2, there’s no coming back from that! I mean, the association with Tallarico Studios alone… It’s done. Roll over, Beethoven.

3. Cello Suite No. 1 (Prelude), Bach

This one is firmly-rooted. It is not going anywhere, both in the sense that nothing could soon push it off the list but it’s hard to imagine rising any higher. It is just slightly too beautiful, too expressive, too legato to fall into the stiffness of Habanera or the pomposity of a De Beers ad, but just close enough to them in tone to always read as a hipper alternative. So you’ll never be overexposed, but never go that long without hearing the Yo-Yo Ma version. And so here it stays, third on the podium, solid bronze, the waterbender, the Plup; with you as always is Prelude to Cello Suite No. 1. (Frankly surprised it took us this long to get to Johann, but don’t worry - he’ll be Bach.)

7. Air on the G String, Bach/Wilhelmj

Told ya. It’s not that she isn’t a beautiful piece of music, and it’s not that she already had her time. In truth, she never got her flowers. Inasmuch as she had a run, it was squished between the omnipresences of Beethoven and Satie. You’ll still hear from her now and then; she crops up, like a lucky penny. And you’ll smile, every time, but you know the stars in your eyes are not present joy, but nostalgia. A fondness for what was and what could’ve been - what should have been. Why - why couldn’t this have had the legs of Gymnopedie? I mean, even the Fucking Champs version - could that have made a run? Could TikTok pick up on it? But comes the day you have to accept - if it was gonna happen, it would’ve happened by now. Air on the G String grows weary; let her rest.

4. Duo des Fleurs, Delibes

Bit of a dark horse, this one. Didn’t exactly come out of nowhere - it’s been here the whole time - but you didn’t see it coming! It’s like that time I went snorkeling, and I wondered, “Where are the fish?” I was told there would be tropical fish, but all I saw was blue. Then I caught one flitting by my head and, as soon my eyes registered the shape, I realized they were everywhere! I just hadn’t taken them in. This is the one that makes you ask, where did I hear that before? Was this the one at the end of Margaret? No! How did it go? How do I hum dyads? But then it shows up and, oh yeah, that’s the one! The really pretty one. I knew it’d come around again. Has staying power, could make a run for the top if it sees an opening, but seemingly content, for now, to dance around the periphery, appreciated when heard if only half-remembered the next day.

6. Prelude in E Minor Op. 28 No. 4, Chopin

The bottom end of acceptability. Anything lower, you must avoid. But you can use Prelude in E. It is a risk, and it takes skill. But you can use Prelude in E. It is not for the faint of heart. This is the ending of Fez we’re talking about here. This is that one TED Talk about how everyone loves classical music they just don’t know it yet. This was all over Anatomy of a Fall. Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer something lighter? Nocturne in E-flat [Op. 9 No. 2] is very nice. Prelude has just enough penetration that some people are going to recognize it, and enough clout that those who do are going to expect things of the person who puts it in a video essay. You can’t just throw this under a rant about The Snyder Cut. But you can - with care, with effort, and with grace - use Prelude in E.

5. Spiegel im Spiegel, Part

We are not ready for Spiegel im Spiegel. The rare “Smart Music” that is, rather than classical, contemporary minimalist. This is - I have been led to believe - all over the film festival circuit. It is the go-to for aspiring arthouse directors. So I assume it is only a matter of time until it reaches general cultural awareness. But we - the YouTube video essay community - are not, at this point in time, pretentious enough to pull off Spiegel im Spiegel. This is not a statement on the song: it is a lovely, sparse, and unpretentious piece of music, which is why pretentious people are drawn to it. And we are not there yet. But I believe in us.

POSTSCRIPTUM

The List of Songs that Represent “Smart Music” is not ranked by quality; they are all, as a baseline, masterpieces. They are ordered, instead, by their possession of antipodal qualities. Beethoven’s Fifth may be a beautiful piece but it’s too well-known - to the casual listener, it reads only as “classical music.” Vltava is a beautiful piece, but it’s not recognizable enough - to most, it will read only as “music.” Pachelbel’s Canon works in too many contexts. Mozart’s Lacrimosa no longer works in any context but “Shit’s About To Go Off.” The Song that Represents “Smart Music” must balance these humors: suggestive, but not too specific; recognizable, but not overfamiliar. The kind of thing one imagines cultured people listen to, and fancies oneself cultured for having noticed it. Just popular enough to signify obscurity to a large number of people.

This impossibility of being both popular and obscure is what keeps the list in motion. Many songs drift back into obscurity before reaching the top, but, once in the primary position, a song begins its slow procession to overexposure. And when, at last, it is too popular to be niche, it does not slip to number 2; it plummets to the bottom, as did Icarus.

Due to this slow but constant movement, new songs will, at intervals, join the ranks, taking the place of those that became gauche. And if, dear listener, you were aiming to trendset, to score your next whatever-it-is-you-do with the newest Song to Represent “Smart Music,” and were I a gambling man… Bach’s Prelude in C. And I’ll tell you why: it appears in the Netflix series Bodies alongside Chopin (#6), mirroring Satie’s dual appearance in The Queen’s Gambit (#9); its arpeggiated structure makes it usable in scenarios similar to the Cello Suite (#3) (Johann did love him some broken chords); and it forms the basis of the Gounod version of Ave Maria, if you would like a Cool Person’s Alternative to Schubert (#2). You may feel I’m playing too safe, but I tell you truly: this song is due. But if I can impart one piece of wisdom let it be this: whatever you do, whoever you are, you cannot use Fur Elise. You cannot. You can’t do it. It can’t be allowed. Don’t fu-

[alphynix]

Crystal Palace Field Trip Part 1: Walking With Victorian Monsters

The Crystal Palace Dinosaurs take their name from the original Crystal Palace, a glass-paned exhibition building originally constructed for a World's Fair in Hyde Park in 1851.

In 1854 the structure was relocated 14km (~9 miles) south to the newly-created Crystal Palace Park, and a collection of over 30 life-sized statues of prehistoric animals were commissioned to accompany the reopening – creating a sort of Victorian dinosaur theme park – sculpted by Benjamin Waterhouse Hawkins with consultation from paleontologist Sir Richard Owen.

The Palace building itself burned down completely in 1936, and today only the ruins of its terraces remain in the northeast of the park grounds.

The Crystal Palace building then and now Left image circa 1854 (public domain) Right image circa 2011 by Mark Ahsmann (CC BY-SA 3.0)

Six sphinx statues based on the Great Sphinx of Tanis also survive up among the Palace ruins, flanking some of the terrace staircases. They fell into serious disrepair during the latter half of the 20th century, but in 2017 they all finally got some much-needed preservation work, repairing them and restoring their original Victorian red paint jobs.

———

…But let's get to what we're really here for. Dinosaurs! (…And assorted other prehistoric beasties!)

The "Dinosaur Court" down in the south end of the park still remains to this day, displayed across several islands in a man-made lake. Over the decades they've been through multiple cycles of neglect and renovation, and are currently cared for by the London Borough of Bromley (Crystal Palace Park Trust are due to take over custodial duties in September 2023), with promotion and fundraising assistance from organizations like Historic England and the Friends of the Crystal Palace Dinosaurs charity.

Just about 170 years old now, the Crystal Palace Dinosaurs represent fifteen different types of fossil creatures known to 1850s Victorian science, with only three actual dinosaur species featured. Although often derided for being outdated and very inaccurate by modern standards, they were actually incredibly good efforts at the time, especially taking into account that the field of paleontology was still in its very early days.

They also just have a lot of charm, with toothy grins and surprisingly dynamic poses.

Unfortunately on the day I visited in early August 2023 most of the statues were heavily obscured by plant growth, both on their islands and on the sides of the paths they can usually be viewed from. Since I'd seen images from about a month ago showing things being less overgrown, this was probably just some unlucky timing on my part coinciding with some explosive summer foliage growth.

The first island on the trail features a few Permian and Triassic animals which were only known from fragmentary remains in the 1850s. These "labyrinthodonts" were recognized as having similarities to both amphibians and reptiles, and so were depicted with boxy toothy jaws, warty skin, stumpy tails, and long frog-like back legs.

Today we'd call these particular animals temnospondyl amphibians, specifically Mastodonsaurus, and we know they were actually shaped more like giant salamanders with longer flatter crocodilian-like jaws, smaller legs, and long paddle-like tails.

———

Somewhere in the foliage beyond this specific "labyrinthodont" there was also supposed to be a pair of dicynodonts, but I couldn't see much of them at all and didn't manage to get a remotely visible photograph.

Crystal Palace Dicynodon when much less overgrown Left photo by London looks (CC BY 2.0) Right photo by Loz Pycock (CC BY SA 2.0)

These Dicynodon are depicted as looking like sabre-toothed turtles complete with shells. That was fairly speculative even for the time, but considering only their weird turtle-beaked-and-walrus-tusked skulls were known it was probably the best guess Hawkins and Owen had. Today we know these animals were actually synapsids related to modern mammals, but Victorian understanding considered them to be a type of reptile.

Modern reconstructions of dicynodonts have a slightly different face shape, along with squat pig-like bodies and semi-sprawling limbs. They may have had fur, but currently the only known actual skin impressions from the genus Lystrosaurus show leathery bumpy hairless skin.

———

Next time: the Jurassic and Cretaceous sculptures!

[enchxanting]

our love is god [ethan landry]

read part 2 here || all parts

pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader

warnings: nothing yet but this fic is heathers-inspired, so be warned for the future.

author's note: hi guys, long time lurker first time poster. this is my first time WRITING fic so feel free to leave any critique. also i don't know if i did the cut right lol i have a lot planned and hope you like!

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Dear Diary,

I should’ve never let Mindy convince me to start this operation. 

Sure, it’s nice to have a steady cash flow, but nothing is more aggravating than everyone and their mother asking for doctor’s notes, report cards, prescriptions, and absence notes when I’m just trying to make it to fourth-period math. When I was ten, I expected to use my Nancy-Drew-inspired skills to unearth hidden staircases or find whistling statues, not help someone’s checked-out mom get a Xanax. 

Yet I forged three (3) permission slips today. Why? Because, next to mysteries, I love the sweet smell of cash in the morning. Yesterday, I added $150 to the rainy day fund. Hopefully, when the weather’s right, I'll be inspired to buy a car and ditch Woodsboro. This town is fucked, alright. Just ask Chad, Mindy, Sam, or–

“Tara! Jesus Christ!” I rub my leg where her sneaker connected. “What’s your damage?”

“Are you done, Shakespeare? You said you’d get lunch with me like, fifteen minutes ago.”

Tara isn’t so great with patience. But, again, I am not so great at keeping track of time. “Yeah, whatever,” I say. “Let’s go see what they’ve cooked up for us today.”

I follow her through the winding path of tables, chairs, and teenage bodies. As we go, I collect bills from outstretched hands and replace them with papers of varying sizes. Tara turns to smirk at me. “What was the event this time?”

“Oh, you know. It’s report card season, and this school is not known for its stellar GPAs.”

“We just have you to thank for keeping it floating below a 3.0,” she teases. “Tell me, Y/N. Does all that extra brainpower of yours get used up matching the way people dot their i’s and cross their t’s?”

I roll my eyes at her. “Sure, Tara. Let’s just get some lunch. I’m seriously starving.”

We grab trays and join the line, aimlessly chattering about the day. Tara’s been my friend since the beginning of the year when I was the only new kid in a town struck by tragedy. We were the only new buyers in Woodsboro over the summer. The rest are still empty, the memory of last year’s Ghostface attacks having driven out long-time residents.

What’s surprising, though, is that the so-called “Woodsboro Four” are still here. Sure, Sam, Tara, Mindy, and Chad mostly stick together, but despite the terrible tragedy that they witnessed, they let me and Annika, Mindy’s current girlfriend, into their lives. I could never measure up to that. I’m just glad they want to be my friend.

I’m taken out of my musings on friendship when I feel someone’s eyes on my back. Without turning around, I recite my usual speech. “$5 for report cards, $10 for prescriptions and absence notes, and an extra $5 for rush fees.”

“Woah, um, tempting, but I’m not looking for any forgery.”

Confused, I turn around to put a face to an unfamiliar voice. The guy’s tall, almost as tall as Chad, with curly brown hair and brown eyes that widen when I meet them. “Sorry, I was just going to get my lunch, but you dropped some cash back here.”

For some reason, my voice is not working. All I can do is look up at him, suddenly captivated by how shy he seems to be. When I pause for a few moments too long, Tara reaches around and takes the money from his hand. “Uh, thanks. I’m sure my friend here appreciates it. Usually she’s more talkative.”

“Oh, god, yeah, sorry,” I finally get out, stumbling over my words. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Suddenly, I think he remembers to be bashful and walks away without another word.

When he’s gone, Tara laughs. “God, Y/N, drool much? I’ve never seen you like that before.”

I flush red. “Whatever, Tara, you’re the worst.” I give her a playful shove and walk off to buy my lunch. I hand the money to the cashier, but all I can think about are those big, brown eyes, and I know I’m fucked.

[nicoline1998enilocin]

That's My Girl | New Years Eve Special 🎆

Pairing -> Husband!Dad!Young!Tony Stark x Wife!Mom!Fem!Reader

Word count -> 4.6K

Summary -> You're ringing in the New Year with your entire family; it will be a night to never forget. When your Mom gets the surprise of her life, there won't be a single dry eye in the room. When the fireworks start to slow down, you and Tony can't help but think back to your first New Year's Eve together, and the memories made that evening.

Rating -> Explicit (E)

Warning(s) -> Established relationship (Husband/Wife), use of nicknames (Sunshine, Love/My Love, Baby Boy, Munchkin(s), Pretty Girl, Little One), references to breastfeeding

Angst -> References to the passing of a loved one

Smut -> Somnophilia (consensual), breeding/pregnancy kink, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!)

A/n -> I want to thank everyone for all the love and support I have gotten over the past year, but I specifically want to take the time to thank the best friend I could ever wish for, @ccbsrmsf1. Carol, thank you for everything you have done for me since I have had the honor to meet you, and I can't wait to see what 2024 will have in store for us! Eu te amo 3000 🩵

A/n 2.0 -> As of right now, I want to announce that my requests are open again! Please consider that I only have 24 hours in my day, so it might take a while to get the new requests posted, but I expect to post them around February/March. I'll be looking forward to what you will all come up with, and I can't wait to start writing requests again 🩵

A/n 3.0 -> @little-angel-oc Here is the second part of the Tony fic, so this way you can’t miss it! I hope you will enjoy it 🩵

Events Masterlist -> @anyfandomkinkbingo -> Somnophilia Masterlist -> @sweetspicybingo -> New Years Kiss Masterlist -> @marvel-smash-bingo -> Hickeys Masterlist -> @fandom-free-bingo -> Whispered sweet nothings

Banners: @vase-of-lilies | Divider: @firefly-graphics | GIF: @ccbsrmsf1

Main Masterlist | Tony Stark Masterlist | AU Masterlist | Part 1

The last few days have been amazing, as you've spent much time with the entire family. From your Mom and her boyfriend, Jackson, flying in to spend time with you to having Tony and your kids by your side, this has been the happiest holiday season you've celebrated in a long time.

Your past year has been one with many ups and downs, but right now, you're ending it on a high note, as you're woken up by Tony as he's buried between your thighs, lapping up your juices dripping from your pussy.

Tony's tongue occasionally dips into your entrance before finding its way back up to your clit, giving it some special attention as two of his long, thick fingers drop to where your tongue just was, pulling you from your sleepy state entirely. Your hands fly into his hair as he keeps expertly sucking and licking your clit, finding the spot inside you effortlessly to have you fall apart around him.

"Fuck!" you exclaim a little too loud, but that's none of your concern right now because Tony's trying his hardest to have you falling over the edge he's been working you up to. The moment you pull Tony's hair and your back arches to push your pussy even closer to his mouth, he lets out a groan, and that's all you need to cum for him with a scream of his name.

He licks up every last drop of your arousal, working you through your orgasm until you're oversensitive and pulling his head away. Waking each other up like this is something you'll never get enough of, and you'll return the favor in the new year.

"Good morning, Sunshine," Tony says with a deep, gravelly morning voice that has your insides turning to mush at the sound. You'll never get enough of your man during the day, but it's an entirely different story in the mornings, as he always manages to turn you on with that voice.

"Mornin', My Love," you say as you wrap your arms around your husband's neck to pull him in for a soft, loving kiss. His lips are soft, but the taste of yourself is still lingering on them, and you can't help the quiet moan escaping as you taste it.

When he pulls away, you're both sporting big smiles as you look into each other's eyes. Over the past year, you've been through hell and back together, but the fact that you've gone through it with Tony by your side makes every second worth it. With each passing day, you've fallen more and more in love with the man you married, and you can't help but feel like the butterflies in your stomach are going wild as he places one last kiss on your cheek before getting up and into the shower, getting ready for another day at his parents' house.

While Tony is in the shower, you've decided to wear a comfy outfit to be decent and ready to find your youngest son, Paxton. There's a very comfortable armchair in the corner of his room at Howard and Maria's house, and after picking up a book to read there, you head over to find him already awake and excited to see you.

"Look at you being so happy to see Mommy! Did you sleep well, Little One?" you ask him as you reach into his crib, and he's happily flailing his little arms and fists around in excitement, cooing at you as well. A healthy, red flush on his chubby cheeks makes him look even more adorable, and you kiss both of them before you put him on your hip and walk to the big armchair.

You let yourself fall into the chair before getting comfortable and lifting your shirt so Paxton can be breastfed without a single problem. He's a hungry boy this morning, so he's spending nearly 45 minutes nursing, and when he just got done with one side, Tony walks in as he's towel drying his hair.

He's wearing a pair of black sweatpants that are hung low on his hips, the V leading into his pants showing prominently. When your eyes trail over his chesthair and abdomen, you can't help but let them rest on the bulge inside his pants, and you smirk a little at the thought of what you want to do with it.

As he finishes drying off his hair, you pull your eyes away before letting them glide over his broad, muscular shoulders and thick biceps before landing on his lips, the ones he pleasured you with not too long ago. The ones telling you how much he loves you, and the ones you want to look at forever. What you don't notice, however, are the words coming out of them as you're enjoying them for a few seconds too long.

"Sunshine? Is everything okay?" Tony asks as he walks over to you and crouches in front of the chair, his brows furrowed as he looks up at you with a concerned expression.

"Sorry, everything's okay. What did you say?" you ask, smiling reassuringly.

"I asked how my beautiful wife and son are doing," he tells you as he rubs his thumb over Paxton's head while he looks at you. A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips when you tell him everything's perfect, and after one last kiss for the both of you, he heads back to the bedroom.

On his way there, he's stopped by Jackson, who has something important to discuss.

"Can we talk in private for a minute? I don't want anyone to overhear what's going on," he whispers to Tony, and the two of them head to his old bedroom before closing the door. Tony sits at the foot of his bed while Jackson paces the room, unsure where to start.

"Is everything okay? Did something happen between you and Virginia?" Tony asks in a concerned tone.

"Everything's going well, better than well, even! That's what I want to talk to you about. I'm planning to ask Virginia to marry me tonight, right before midnight," he tells your husband with a huge smile, and Tony recognizes that look. He wore the same when planning his proposal, and he couldn't be happier for both Jackson and your Mom.

"Really?! Oh my god, that's amazing!" he says before getting up and pulling him in for a big hug, clapping him on the back a few times as he congratulates him, and that's when he pulls the engagement ring out of his pocket to show Tony.

"I've been hunting for a special one because it's what she deserves. She's the most beautiful, loving, and caring person I've ever met, and I can't wait to call her my wife," Jackson says as he gets tears in his eyes. He wipes them away quickly before letting out a watery smile at the memories.

"Sorry, I shouldn't be crying," Jackson says as he sniffs a couple of times, but Tony won't have any of it.

"What's on your mind? I'm more than happy to listen if you're comfortable with it," Tony says in a soothing voice before sitting down on the bed again, and Jackson finds his place next to him on the bed.

"It's just... I'm very excited to ask Virginia to marry me, but she reminds me of my first wife. Her name was Lily, but she fell ill after we were married for about seventeen years, and not too long after, she passed away as a consequence of her illness. There was nothing the doctors could do, so we decided to make the most out of the rest of her life. Before she passed, she told me it was okay to move on, and I never wanted to until I met Virginia."

The tears that gathered in Tony's waterline are falling as he listens to Jackson talk about her, and he can't even begin to imagine what it would be like to lose you.

"She's very similar to Lily in many ways, yet she's not the same in the best way possible. I truly believe Lily must be watching over me, and she has sent Virginia on my path to let me know she's okay and that it's okay to fall in love with someone else. I always tell people that while Lily was my first love, Virginia is my soulmate, and we are destined to be together," he finishes his story, and Tony can't help but let the tears flow freely.

Without saying a word, Tony pulls Jackson in for a hug. The two men stay like this for a few minutes, not sharing a single word but just being in each other's presence.

"She'll be the luckiest woman in the universe tonight, that's for sure," Tony tells him, and Jackson puts the ring away before picking himself back together. After one more thank you, Jackson leaves the room, and not long after, you walk into the bedroom with little Paxton on your hip, ready to change him and get dressed.

He looks at you, and you can tell he's been crying as you approach him. When you find your place next to him on the bed, he takes little Paxton from your arms and holds him for a much-needed cuddle. You let your head rest on his shoulder, your hand lying on his thigh to let him know you're there for him.

"I love you, Sunshine; I'm glad to have found my soulmate so early in my life," he whispers, and you nod softly in agreement. You're glad to have found yours, too, and to have started a family with him. There's nothing in this world you love more than Tony and your children, and you'd do anything to protect them, no matter the situation.

During the afternoon, your twins, Hudson and Orion, have been busy playing outside in the thick layer of snow together with Howard, Jackson, and Tony as they've been building snowmen while you, Virginia, and Maria worked to prepare the dinner for tonight. Paxton was napping in his room, and before you could even think about what was happening, you felt a pair of cold hands slide under your hoodie, making you shriek loudly.

"What the hell is wrong with-" but before you can finish your sentence, your mouth shuts quickly when you realize who it is. Your son, Hudson, was playing a prank after he planned it with Tony, but now you feel bad after seeing his little pout and the tears on his cheeks.

"Oh my goodness, Baby Boy, Mommy is so sorry she yelled at you like that. You startled me, but I didn't mean to make you sad," you say as you sit on your knees, and Hudson immediately walks over to you for a much-needed hug.

"I'm sorry, Mommy," he says with a small voice, and you pull him close as you rub his back, apologizing profusely until he's calmed down. You can feel the tears stinging in the corners of your eyes as you hold him close, his arms wrapped around your neck as he hugs you back.

"No need to say sorry, Baby Boy, you didn't do anything wrong. Mommy should be the one saying sorry for getting angry, and I will. I'm sorry for reacting as I did, but can you promise not to scare me again like that?" you ask him, and when he nods in response, you give him a big kiss.

"I love you, Mommy," he says, and your heart melts.

"I love you too, little Munchkin. Shall we make some hot chocolate for everyone? I think you all deserve some after playing in the snow the entire time," you ask, and he wiggles from your grasp excitedly before running to the pantry and getting all the supplies he needs to make it.

While Hudson goes to grab everything, you get the mugs and everything ready, but you still can't shake the feeling of what happened earlier, and when Tony walks back in, he instantly senses something's wrong. You're not sure how, but this man has a sixth sense of your well-being.

"What's on your mind, Pretty Girl?" Tony asks as he stands in front of you, lifting your chin by putting his index finger underneath so you can look into his dark brown eyes.

"I got scared by Hudson, and I reacted poorly by yelling. I didn't know what was going on, and I'd already told him I was sorry before hugging it out, but I can't shake the feeling that I'm a bad parent for yelling," you tell him in a soft, almost inaudible voice from shame. A bright red flush is covering your cheeks at your admission.

He looks at you with furrowed brows as he thinks about what happened and then realizes this might all be his doing. He's the one who told Hudson to do it, after all. He didn't think about the consequences of his actions, though.

''You're not a bad parent whatsoever, Sunshine. You didn't know what would happen, and I believe Hudson has already forgiven you based on the way he's staring at us right now,'' Tony chuckles as you both turn your heads towards your oldest son, who's bouncing on his feet impatiently as he's waiting for you.

''Come on, Mommy! Let's make hot cocoa for everyone,'' he tells you, and with a chuckle, you let go of your husband, instead grabbing Hudson's hand to go and make the promised hot chocolate.

While you and Hudson take your time to do that, Tony hears Paxton stirring again, and he shoots one more look outside, but Orion, Howard, and Jackson are still eagerly working on their snowman. A smile forms on his lips as he looks at them, and he's fortunate to have such a big family, just like he always dreamt of.

As he walks up to Paxton's room, he can't stop thinking about what it would be like if you were pregnant again. There's something about you with a round belly and a healthy pregnancy glow he will never get enough of; these thoughts are amplified when he sees your youngest son all happy after his nap. He wouldn't mind to have another little one just like him.

''Hi, Little One, did you have a good nap?'' Tony asks as he lifts him out of his crib, and Paxton babbles away as Tony goes to change him from his pajamas into a clean diaper and a dinosaur outfit, making him look adorable. When he even lets out a little yawn, Tony is completely done for, and the baby fever has kicked in full force for him.

Tony brings Paxton down before instructing Maria to give him a bottle, and he whisks you away before you can even think about what's going on. When the door to his bedroom closes, he's all over you with wandering hands and lingering kisses.

''M so hard for you, Sunshine, can't wait to fuck another baby into you. All round and glowing got so fucking hard just of the thought alone,'' he practically growls between sucking and biting your neck, leaving a trail of dark purple bruises there. Your fingers laced in his dark brown locks, pulling him impossibly closer as you can feel the arousal pooling in your panties.

''Please, fuck another baby into me,'' you beg him softly as he sucks one last bruise on your jaw, ensuring everyone can see exactly what you two have been doing. He shows everyone you're his and wants everyone to see how crazy you drive him.

Before you know it, you're lying on the bed, entirely bare for him, as his hands roam over every inch of your skin, both inked and blank. He's completely naked, too, his cock standing at attention the entire time, but that's not his main focus right now. All he wants now is you and to have you fall apart on his tongue and fingers before even thinking of getting off himself.

''You look so beautiful for me, Sunshine, lying here like this,'' he purrs at you, and you can't help but grip the sheets in anticipation as he's inching closer to your core, right where you need him most. His lips ghost over your flesh, leaving goosebumps in their wake, your eyes shut as you're letting the pleasure overtake you right now.

He finally settles between your thighs, pushing them open to let his broad frame lay between them before he blows warm air over your dripping folds, making you shudder and arch your back reflexively. A wicked grin appears on his lips before his long fingers spread your folds, and he admires the way you glisten as he feels himself throbbing.

Biting his lip as he looks at you, he can't resist any longer, and he licks a stripe from your entrance to your clit, licking up every last drop that you're willing to give. The moan leaving your lips is near pornographic, and it only serves to make Tony even harder as he pays attention to your little bundle of nerves, pushing you over the edge with another loud moan.

''Oh, fuck!" your hands pulled on his hair as he worked you through your orgasm, Tony rutting his hips into the mattress to give himself the slightest bit of relief without doing too much and risking him cumming before he even started.

''You're going to be the death of me, Sunshine,'' he whispers between kisses up your belly, littering your breasts with them, too, before grabbing you and turning you both over so you're on top of him. You're straddling him as you lean over, capturing his soft, plump pink lips with your own, your tongue sliding past his lower lip before sliding in and letting the kiss take its natural course.

His hands roam over your warm back as you melt into his touch, a smile tugging at your lips before you pull away and look into his deep brown eyes. His hand slides over your neck and down to your throat before carefully pushing your head up with his fingers so he can examine the little lovebites he left there that have turned dark purple already.

''So fucking beautiful, and all mine,'' he growls before adding one more to the collection on your neck. Tony's cock is trapped between your bodies as you grind slowly over it, the stimulation pulling soft moans from you. You look down at your husband with half-lidded eyes and your mouth slightly open as the moans spill over.

''I need to feel you, Sunshine, I need to fill you and fuck another baby into you. Stuffing you full of my cum until it drips out and you're round with my baby again,'' Tony whispers against your neck as he lines up with your entrance before you can slide down.

His girth always makes it a stretch, but you wouldn't change it for the world as you will happily stretch around him every time. As soon as he bottoms out, he places his hands on your hips with a loose grip. Your hands are placed on his firm chest as you start riding him slowly, feeling every ridge and vein inside you as he hits your G-spot.

Each time he hits that spot inside you, a soft moan escapes, and your pussy clenches around him before you cum, making him groan and pull you into his chest.

''Hold on tight, Sunshine, because you're going to get the ride of your fucking life,'' he groans in your ear before planting his feet firmly on the mattress and fucking into you with a brutal pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing throughout the room and bouncing off the walls. Combined moans and groans fill in the rest of the space, and before you know it, you're squirting all over his legs and bed while screaming his name.

Tony could hold off his orgasm just long enough, and as you're coming down from your own high, his pace becomes unsteady, and he shoots long ropes of his cum inside of you as he rides out his high as well. You're both panting heavily as he pulls you as close as possible while whispering how good you've been for him.

''You did so well for me, Sunshine, 'm so lucky to have you as my wife. Wouldn't want to be here with anyone else but you,'' he tells you, and you feel a flush on your cheeks as he tells you this. You feel like the luckiest girl on earth and are happy to have him by your side.

''I love you so much, My Love; thank you for being my husband,'' you say before you can feel your eyelids get heavy, and Tony pulls the comforter over both of you; worrying about the cleanup is something for later.

While you and Tony were busy in his bedroom, Virginia and Maria finished off the preparation of the dinner while Howard and Jackson took care of the twins and Paxton. Now it's time for dinner, and after you both shower to get cleaned up, you head downstairs and into a conversation you wish would have never happened.

''Well, it sounded like you two lovebirds had quite a lot of fun!'' Jackson starts as he looks at Tony, who wears a proud look on his face. You walk in after your husband, and when Jackson sees your neck, he audibly gasps.

''Wow, you have a LOT of hickeys on your neck; you two had lots of fun indeed-'' he says, but before he can finish that sentence, Virginia pulls him to the side with a deadly glare, explaining that everyone lets you two enjoy your own thing. They don't comment on it afterward.

Meanwhile, you feel that you want the ground to open up and swallow you whole as you hide behind Tony, who's reassuringly holding your hand. He squeezes softly to let you know it's okay, but you're too ashamed to come out of your hiding spot, so instead, he turns around.

''Are you okay, Pretty Girl?'' Tony asks, and you shake your head in response, not trusting your voice now. He pulls you against his chest as you bury your face in the fabric of his hoodie, inhaling his scent to calm you down effectively.

It isn't mentioned during dinner anymore, and it is like nothing has happened. You're feeding Paxton some of the vegetables on the table and some mashed potatoes while you're enjoying your dinner, and the conversation flows freely.

When dinner is over, all the men clean up because the women cook, so you're sitting on the couch with Paxton in your arms as he wants to be held by you, and Hudson and Orion are focused on the TV as they're watching a movie. You, Maria, and Virginia, are deep into conversation until the men are done and join you all on the couch.

''Got room for one more over here?'' Tony asks, and you scoot forward, making room for him behind you before leaning into his arms and melting into his hold. The evening continued, and the twins and Paxton eventually napped to wake up before midnight and celebrate the new year with everyone.

Around 23:30, Jackson suddenly gets up and fumbles with the little box in his pocket. He was going to wait until after midnight, but he can't wait any longer, so he will pop the question right here and right now. He walks over to Virginia and asks her to stand up, which she does, albeit with a questioning look on her face.

''Virginia, I knew we were destined to be together from the first moment I met you. I couldn't wait to hear your laugh or see how your eyes crinkle when you smile. Your voice is like one of an angel, and your patience is something I admire. I am proud that you raised your beautiful daughter into an amazing, strong woman with an equally beautiful family. But most of all, I am delighted to call you my girlfriend. However, I want to change that tonight.''

Jackson sinks on one knee, and you can't help but let a big sob escape at the sight before you. Tony rubs your belly in an attempt to calm you down as he looks over your shoulder at what is happening.

''Virginia Huxley, will you make me the happiest man and do me the honor of becoming my wife?'' he asks, and when she says yes, you all applaud as he slips the ring on her finger before kissing her, and the tears are flowing freely down your face while you watch the scene in front of you unfold.

As soon as he pulls away, your Mom wiggles out of his grasp, and you do the same with Tony because right now, you need to hold your Mom and tell her how happy you are for her.

''I can't believe it, I'm so happy for you! You deserve it, Mom,'' you tell her as you hug her tightly, holding her and letting out the tears of excitement. When she pulls away to show you the ring, you let out a small gasp as you take a look at it. It reflects the light in the room perfectly, making it look gleaming.

Once everyone has seen the ring, both Jackson and Virginia cannot let go of one another, and you can't help but smile each time they kiss because you know what it felt like when Tony proposed to you. You have officially both found your soulmates now, and even though life has ways to get you there, you're thrilled you have.

A comfortable silence has fallen over the room when Maria suddenly disturbs it, letting everyone know it is almost time to ring in the new year together, and she gets a drink ready for everyone while you and Tony go and get your three children as well.

A few minutes later, everyone was ready for the countdown, which was very close. In unison, everyone counts down from ten to one, and as soon as the clock strikes midnight, everyone cheers loudly.

''Happy New Year, everyone!'' Maria exclaims happily, and Tony pulls you in for your first kiss of the year, which takes your breath away each year. From your first one, where it was just the two of you, to now, all of them have a special place in your heart, and you will never forget them.

His hands are placed on your cheeks as his eyes flick from your eyes down to your lips and back before leaning in, and they slot together perfectly with yours as he lays every promise of loving you into this one kiss. His tongue glides past your lower lip, and you happily open up for him as he takes the lead in the kiss, leaving you breathless once again.

''I love you, Sunshine, and happy new year,'' he says before giving one last peck on your lips. He then bends down to kiss each of his children, after which you do the same. Then, it's time to watch the fireworks. You're all standing before the big window as you look at the fireworks shooting into the sky.

Hudson and Orion each by one of your sides, Paxton in your arms and Tony behind you, his hands resting on your hips. This year promises to be great, and you're excited to see what it'll bring this time.

[notnotstarving]

Walter's Werebeaver Story

And my theories about Woodie, based on nothing but my superior mind, intuition, and some dream that I had.

WEREBEAVER_STORY = {

lines = { {duration = 3.0, line = "Did I ever tell you the tale of the Werebeaver?"},

{duration = 2.5, line = "I went looking for him myself, you know."},

{duration = 3.0, line = "They say he was once the owner of a big lumber company,"},

{duration = 2.5, line = "who gave the order to clear-cut an entire forest"},

{duration = 2.5, line = "against the wishes of the people who lived there."},

{duration = 2.5, line = "For this, they say he was cursed..."},

{duration = 2.5, line = "If he or his company cut one tree too many,"},

{duration = 2.5, line = "he would turn into a hulking, hairy beast,"},

{duration = 2.5, line = "with axe-sharp front teeth."},

{duration = 3.0, line = "He lost everything, and hid himself away in a small cabin,"},

{duration = 2.5, line = "deep in the heart of the woods."},

{duration = 2.5, line = "But it was not enough to satisfy the curse."},

{duration = 2.5, line = "People say he's still there, roaming the wilderness,"},

{duration = 2.5, line = "gnashing his long, fearsome teeth!"},

{duration = 1.5, line = "..."},

{duration = 2.5, line = "Well, that was the story I heard anyway."},

{duration = 3.0, line = "Mr. Woodie's never told me if it's actually true..."},

So first of all. This is the closest to Woodie lore we have ever gotten in YEARS and AGAIN its via Walter and not Woodie directly. Second of all, the last line implies Walter has asked Woodie directly about his curse but the man WON'T SAY ANYTHING!! I'M GONNA STRANGLE HIM!! Third of of all, LOOK AT WATER HE'S SO CUTE GOSSIPPING ABOUT HIS DAD 💕💕💕

ANYWAY. I don't actually think Woodie was some bigshot company owner, he's just so down to earth that I can't see it. I think Walter's story is just a local legend that the locals who have spotted the werebeaver came up with. Since these kinds of urban myths are spread through word of mouth like a game of telephone, they often evolve into something different than what the original source stated.

HOWEVER, as scientists we must consider all options, so let's dive in.

Theory #1 - Walter's Story

Woodie owned a big lumber company, gave the order to cut down too many trees, and was cursed to be a beaver by the locals or some kind of supernatural power protecting the locals.

The lumber company could've been a family business, which would explain why his parents named him Woodie. Walter implies he's asked Woodie if this story is true, but Woodie remains tight lipped. Woodie doesn't mention his past too much and he seems like the reserved type, but he doesn't seem like a liar, in fact he strikes me as an honest man. Even though he's a changed man, Woodie's most likely ashamed of his past, being a greedy business owner with no regard for nature. If he's ashamed, he probably doesn't want Walter knowing the truth, but also doesn't want to lie to the kid and say he was cursed a different way, so he neither confirms or denies it.

Plus this is the closest we've gotten canonically to anything relating to his curse's origin.

Theory #2 - Walter's Story (in my dream)

Woodie was hired to get lumber from a forest, cut too many trees on sacred ground and was cursed by the spirits that rest there.

Yes I dream of dst, moving on. So this is very similar to the one klei gave him (I'm a prophet), and this is the one I actually believe happend. Since this story is so similar, (he chopped too many trees and faces the consequences), his reasoning for neither confirming or denying his origins to Walter remains true for this one too.

Now we all know he controls his curse via kitschy idols, which resemble totems. According to the wiki, the word totem derives from the Algonquian word odoodem [oˈtuːtɛm] meaning "(his) kinship group". You know who else has connections to that area? Woodie.

Woodie mentions a lot of places/things from all over Canada, my guess is his lifestyle is just more nomadic than the average person. I think he took a job at Algonquin Park (logging was allowed under strict guidelines) and maybe cut into an area he wasn't supposed to. Once he realized he was cursed to be this man beaver monster, he ran off far away to hide away in a small cabin in Vancouver Island. At least, that's the island I think Walter's map most resembles.

Theory #3 - Alter

Woodie got cursed by magic relating to alter. How? Idk, there are multiple ways this could've happened but that's not the main thing I wanna focus on because at that point it's semantics. What I wanna know is why is woodie still cursed?

If the moon cycle is what causes his curse, why is he still affected in the Constant? The moon is not actually a moon there, it's Alter, some kind of deity. If the curse affects him both in the constant and the real world, I think there's more of a connection between the constant and the real world than we originally thought. It's possible that the moon in the real world is a medium for Alter's influence. Or maybe if we wanna get more bizarre with it, they're actually one in the same. Alter just can't or won't be perceived in the real world for some reason. I don't think it's too far fetched to think there's some kind of connection there. After all, we know there's shadow stuff in the real world, why not moon stuff?

Anyway, that's all the time I have for today, these are my most plausible explanations to Woodie's curse. If anyone else is actually reading all this, I'd love to hear thoughts and even different theories, maybe you have one I haven't thought of.

[vertigoed]

Faded 3.0 || Rich boy! Gojo satoru

MASTERLIST

PREQUEL | PART 1 | PART 2

Summary: richboy!gojo and rich fem!reader, unrequited love, heavy mentions of drug usage.

Synopsis: Satoru thought he had you all figured out - a friendship that had lasted a decade and a love that he thought was unbreakable. But then you left without a word, leaving him with nothing but unanswered questions and a broken heart.

This part inspired by the song 2009 by mac miller (rip)

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Winter of 2013, aged 23, 5 years since you left.

Satoru had finally reached the point he had been longing for. He could enjoy the simple pleasures of life without being reminded of you, like watching the sunset or experiencing the first snowfall of winter. The weight that had been holding him down had lifted, and for the first time since you left, he felt like he could breathe without that suffocating feeling in his chest. The days of constantly missing you were in the past, and he was determined to keep them there.

Now, Satoru channeled all his energy into his work, deciding that being a workaholic was a better alternative to being an alcoholic. He was going through what his therapist would call the acceptance period- the final stage of grieving over a loss of a loved one and accepting that it was time to move on.

As Satoru walked down the streets of Tokyo on a chilly evening, his mind was solely preoccupied on his 5th year anniversary date with Utahime tomorrow.

He knew since the day you left, he started treating Utahime like an emotional punching bag- switching up from the caring boyfriend that he was when they first started dating, to a heartless monster.

For the majority of their relationship, he never once celebrated her birthday or their anniversary and cheated on her too many times to count with the pathetic excuse of being drunk. But, this time it was going to be different, he was determined to make up for all those times he hurt her.

Satoru wasn't sure if he was doing this out of love or guilt- but nevertheless, he felt good about himself with this newfound mental clarity.

Suddenly, he comes to a halt in his tracks as his eyes landed on a familiar figure walking towards him, wrapped in a thick coat and a scarf. He told himself his eyes were lying but as the figure drew closer, it dawns upon him who it was and his heart drops to the pit of his stomach.

It was like seeing the dead come back to life, his body froze with a mixture of shock and disbelief. And just like that, the years' worth of therapy and believing he was truly over you crumpled into dust, as the memories he despised came flooding back.

There you were, standing before him with your cheeks flushed from the cold and your eyes glistening against the moonlight. Your face mirrored his expression, equally as stunned to see him.

As you stood there, staring at each other, the silence between you was palpable. Thousands of thoughts were running through his head and he had so much to say to you, but no words could come out as he couldn't find his voice to say anything.

Instead, he just stood there for a few moments, his blue orbs staring at you intensely, until he managed to swallow the lump in his throat.

"Y/N," his voice choked and barely above a whisper. His mind was still unable to process that you were standing right in front of him. It all felt too unreal.

A single tear falls down your eye and you bite your cheek to stop yourself from crying but it was impossible.

Satoru always imagined what it'd be like to see you again, he thought he would be filled with rage, but the sight of your face made him forget all the pent up resentment he held against you.

His body had a mind of its own, he didn't know what he was doing but he took a step towards you and slowly put his long arms around your shoulders to pull you into a warm embrace.

This only unravelled the tears you were holding back, your shoulders shaking violently as you sob into his sweater. He still smelt exactly the same as you once remembered. The feeling of being in his arms felt like the home you've been yearning for every day.

"I'm sorry," your voice was barely audible in between your choked cries but you didn't have to say anything for him to know how you felt.

After a couple minutes, he pulls himself away from you and gently wiped your tears with the back of his sweater.

"Why did you leave?" his voice shook and his eyes started to swell as well, unable to control the wave of emotions rushing through him.

This only made you cry harder, covering your face with your hands as you shook your head. You were too ashamed to look him in the eyes but you knew he deserved an explanation, it was the least you could do.

"Come on, let me drive you home and you can tell me in the car," it was like he could read your mind and understood it was going to be painful for you to open up.

You let him take you to his car which was parked a few minutes down the road. As you both walked in silence, he still had his arm around you, he didn't want to let go of you ever again.

The short walk in the cold air helped you calm down a bit but your heart was still pounding in your chest as you tried to plan what to say. Satoru was the last person you expected to run into and there was nothing that could prepare you for this moment.

He opened the door for you and you get in, noticing that he still used the same bubblegum car freshener that you always hated because it smelt so artificial. You get hit with an overwhelming sense of nostalgia and you try to calm your uneven breathing.

As fucked up as it sounded, you wished you didn't run into him. Anxiety paralysed you from wanting to speak as you were afraid of what his reaction was going to be.

"I know whatever the reason was, it's hard for you to talk about it," he was the first to break the silence, you glanced over at him and his hands were tightly gripped on the wheel with his eyes firmly on the road, he continued, "But, I'm not going to lie to you and say it's okay for you to not tell me. Y-you fucking broke me when you left. I even got into a fucking car accident trying to see you for the last time and spent a week in a coma. You knew that didn't you?"

As the words of unspoken hurt that he endured came spilling out of his mouth, his tone started to get rougher. You closed your eyes, heart wrenching in pain and guilt, thinking back to Suguru's email that entailed what happened the day you left.

Of course, you were horrified and worried to death about Satoru but you were too scared at that time to check up on him. You remembered spending months just praying to a God you didn't believe, refreshing Japanese news every few hours for any updates on his recovery. You knew there was no point in telling him this though.

"I'm sorry," were the only words you could bring yourself to say.

"If you're fucking sorry, tell me why! Tell me why you left without even saying goodbye! Tell me what I did wrong? You dropped me like I'm worthless over that petty argument as if the 10 years of friendship meant shit all to you!" he yelled and slammed his hand against the wheel in frustration, "Don't you know how much I love you? I had to seek therapy to be able to live-"

His voice was raised in anger but his tone was laced with desperation, practically begging you to talk to him. You forced yourself to swallow back the bile threatening to come up.

"I killed someone," you cut him off, unable to bear the fact that he still loved you as it made your heart ache too much.

He immediately fell silent and hastily swerved to the side of the road to park up and you could feel his eyes burning into the side of your head, but you kept your head down, watching the tear drops fall onto your lap.

You then recounted the events of that fateful night- strangely enough, as hard as it was for you to talk about it, you felt relieved.

You tell him every single detail from how you were speeding while faded on xanax, to how your parents had covered it up for you. You also revealed that Utahime had seen you that night and told you to leave the country without saying anything to him, which was why you picked a fight with him, in hopes that it'd be easier for him to get over you.

Satoru listened intently, his heart broke with every word you said, feeling the pain in your voice. It took him a couple minutes to respond but it felt like a lifetime for you, petrified of how he was going to react.

There was no way he could see you the same after what you told him.

"I'm so sorry you had to go through that."

Your breath hitched at his unexpected response. Satoru never failed to surprise you with his never ending patience and kindness. You knew you didn't deserve this kind of treatment.

"No Satoru, you don't understand," you shook your head, disgusted with yourself, "I took another man's life. He was a father to a new born kid! I ruined his entire fucking family's lives as well-"

"Y/N, I can already see you've been punishing yourself enough," he interrupted you and grabbed your hand to stop yourself from crying so much, "H-hey, it's okay. I get it now, everything's going to be okay , I'm here now."

As much as you hated letting yourself be comforted by him, you remain in his arms as he leaned over to envelope you into another hug. He didn't care that your tears and snot were soaking his sweater, he just wanted to let you cry until you had no more tears left.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

After dropping you off, Satoru returned back to his penthouse with nothing but a pit of rage boiling inside of him. He was still in shock after hearing the entire story and to be frank, he was worried he wouldn't be able to control this fury.

Utahime was waiting for him on the couch, wearing nothing but a lacey slip dress and the pair of Louboutin heels that he bought for her the other week.

"Hey babe," she greeted him, getting up to kiss him but he turned his head from her to avoid her lips. The thought of her touch sent shivers down his spine.

She took a step back in confusion, unsure why he was acting like this all of a sudden.

Did he not like what she was wearing? She ran her fingers through her hair and cleared her throat, "What's wrong? Bad day at work?"

He was too consumed by his anger that he didn't know what he was going to do. With a deep breath, he tried to maintain his composure, his hands gripped into tight fists to control himself.

"I want you to leave," his voice was low and dark.

"What?" Utahime whispered in shock.

"Leave now," he kept his eyes away from her, walking over to the bar to pour himself his first drink in a year. He needed something bad to calm himself down before he did anything he knew he'd regret.

"What happened?" Utahime furrowed her brows in confusion and followed her boyfriend's steps, "What did I do?"

He slammed his glass down, almost shattering it in the process. She jumped in surprise and backed away. His hands were now shaking, even hearing her voice made him want to throw up.

"You... are a piece of work," his eyes were the darkest they've ever been and his voice shook with anger as he continued, "You made Y/N leave and you knew how hard that was for me, yet you pretended to be innocent? I let you live with me, I fund your entire lifestyle-"

"You spoke to her?" she cuts him off, mouth agape in shock and her eyes widen with what looked like fear, "She's back? Why-"

"Leave before I pack your shit up for you," Satoru knew he didn't owe her any explanation. All he wanted was to never see her again. He took a step closer to her so that their chests were almost touching and leaned down, lowering his voice, "Listen to me carefully, I tried to love you Utahime, I really did. But now? I fucking hate you, I regret all those years I spent with you, thinking you're worthy of being with me. You're fucking pathetic for what you did to Y/N-"

"She killed someone, and you're saying I'm the bad one?" Utahime interrupts him again, this time in disbelief that he was siding with you, her eyes swarmed with tears of anger, "She deserves to be in jail Satoru! You're taking a murderer's side over your own girlfriend!"

Satoru started to laugh cynically. "You're not my girlfriend. Who do you think you are? Blackmailing Y/N, taking the most important person away from me. You lied to me all these years, acting like you had no idea what happened to her but you were the reason behind all this. YOU were the reason why I spent all those years in fucking depression. I couldn't give a fuck what she's done, she's Y/N, you're you. Do you not get that?"

Utahime was left speechless and backed away, her shoulders trembled as it dawns upon her that her worst nightmare was coming true.

"I l-love you Satoru, I do," she pressed on, unable to accept what was happening, "You don't know how fucking hard it was for me to see you being in love with another girl when I gave you my everything!"

She looked up at Satoru with soaked eyes, wishing he would look at her to see how much she was hurting. But he didn't. He kept his eyes on the wall, jaw clenched and not a trace of emotion on his face.

Utahime knew she lost.

"Oh, and I want you to leave everything I bought for you. Including those shoes and that dress you're wearing."

Those were the last words Satoru had said to her as she started packing up her belongings. She quietly dropped the pile of clothes she collected in her arms, and eventually left, barefoot with nothing but her toiletry bag.

As she waited for her taxi outside the apartment complex, Utahime decided she was going to make sure you get the punishment you deserved. Within ten minutes, she lost everything that mattered to her and even if it kills her, she was going to bring you down to the depths of hell with her.

____________________________________________

Next part willl most likely be the final chapter :)

i appreciate everyones comments and feedback,, it rlly keeps me going hehe

[g0dl3ssland]

⊹₊⟡⋆ [ MILE PHAKPHUM ] + [ HE/THEY ] ⊹₊⟡⋆ blasting GET LIT by STRAY KIDS through their airpods is SORIN KASEM . oh , you don’t know them ? they’re the 30 year old MODEL & ACTOR who just went viral for THEIR FAMILY BEING TIED TO THE MAFIA . yup , the one that drives an AUDI R8 . i hear they’re pretty LOYAL , but others have claimed that they’re quite BLUNT . that makes sense , considering they’re often labeled as the fallen angel .

tw: parental death 

sorin's story begins well before he is born. his parents, his birth parents, are farmers in upper new york. they don't own land, but rather they work the land for another. they're given small lodgings on the land, and while its not a lot its the pride and joy for his parents. they're not even trying when the plus on a pregnancy test is looking back on them. its an easy pregnancy and sorin is an easy baby, always smiling, perhaps a little too velro to his mother, but as soon as he can walk he's toddling after his mother in his own hat to keep their baby from getting sunburnt.

sorin's birthparents catch the flu, and its nothing, they keep themselves within their lodging's, they take turns taking care of the five year old sorin when the other is sleeping the other gets up and feeds him, plays with him, all of that. but suddenly sorin isn't being taken to the bus stop, but its waved off, his parents are sick after all. and its winter. when two weeks go by, someone finally checks in on the family, its not good news. a small sorin is sleeping at the end of their parent's bed, curled up in the cold house and his parents unmoving. no one can say what took them, for sure. luck being not on their side. the scared toddler is taken from the house, screaming for his mother, their two rings gripped in his small hands. 

sorin is kept at an orphange for months, untalking and not interacting with anyone. finally he's given a foster home in new york city, to a couple who cannot have children of their own but want to see if sorin a good fit for them. it takes months for sorin to speak, to open up to the kasem's but finally he does. it takes therapy and sorin gaining trust, it doesn't happen over night. but when he's a happy child once more, they cannot see that his eyes no longer have a spark but he has a smile, he gets along with both of the kasem's and his adoption papers are signed. 

it doesn't take long after that for sorin to begin calling them mom and dad. the mother taking sorin to different callings for toddler shoots and small rolls in commericals, since she had been a miss universe in her day, she knows when someone has the special something to make it in the industry and she knows her son does. she's right of course, but that is where sorin begins to see the cracks in the foundation of his new parent's marriage, a stark contrast to what he remembers in dreams of his birth parents. his father doesn't want him in modeling and acting but rather the family business. 

once sorin's schooling was done, private and at home of course, he's sent off to yale for the ivy's, and while he excells at it, his heart isn't in it, he starts dropping classes, and ditching classes so much so his 4.0 is dropping to a 3.0 and his father is less than pleased. and a bargain between father and son is hatched, sorin wants to go to california to try and make it big. if he cannot make it "big" within a year, he has to come back to a university of their father's choosing and begin his part in the family business. and if he makes it big, his father will accept his choice of life. now its a race against the clock in california. and a killer it would seem.

inspiration of sorin comes from kinnporsche 2022

[superfreaksdev]

Super Freaks at SAGE 2024

Well, I haven't been here in a hot minute! Let's see what Mr. Freaksdev and friends have been cooking up:

Super Freaks 1 Ultimate Edition 3.0

Super Freaks 1 Ultimate Edition is back with its big 3.0 update. In the new Uncle Swordsman Story, you and up to three other friends can zip around the screen with reckless abandon thanks to the new Warrior Aura that increases in size the more yorbs you grab. You can move double speed, but beware! You lose it all if you get hit.

There are also new bosses, like Kranion and Sticky's all powerful bumbling sitcom dad Marrow Prime!

Look at this epic artwork by @engineerkappa @kappaengineer @kappa-artz that I totally didn't threaten with credit card fraud to do for me! It's so cool!

Super Freaks Presents: Strato Freaks 2

The surprise sequel to 2009's/2023's (long story) Strato-Scruffy has a public demo at SAGE. In this wild Fantasy Zone/NiGHTS like shmup, you and a friend can fly around endlessly looping levels trying to collect the Powerful Monkey Council and rack up huge combos by shooting enemies. Also, check those sick cartoon graphics!

Things aren't that simple, however. As your Hot Clock runs down, the level gradually gets harder, and more enemies will appear. Let it run down all the way, and that sinister skeleton Sticky will appear to harass you until he claims your last pink cartoon heart. and we wouldn't want that, would we?

Super Freaks Arcade

This Super Freaks game was first made for Freakjam 1 back in January and gradually expanded on ever since. It reinterprets the gameplay and levels of Super Freaks 1 Ultimate Edition into a 1980's arcade game, loosely based on both Mario Bros. and Pac-Man Championship Edition. You and a friend can collect yorbs to fil your quota and make the Skull Jar (your goal) appear! But enemies will continue to climb out of Kranion's portal. Rack up some crazy combos by running into a bunch of enemies in a row! Also, there's a four player battle mode that's pretty hectic!

Super Freaks Side Story: Scruffy Minus: Rise of the Anti Freaks

This one's actually not entirely a solo joint. I've had wonderful collaborators for the above games, but Scruffy Minus I've been largely hands off with; this game is more the mastermind of Riegel25, Jorjoe05, and NULL3D, and we've crafted a crazy, lore heavy adventure that explains what went down between the classic and modern eras of Super Freaks.

Mr. Shootem Breaks Out!

If I were to list every freaks cameo we'd be here all day, but this one's different enough to be my honorable mention. I'm part of the Shooteam working on Mr. Shootem Breaks Out, a wild breakout experience where you need to shoot the ball with your gun instead of using a paddle.

King Quincy is playable here, armed with a number of funny palette swaps (Gordan Freakman, anyone?), and the Go-Go Yo-Yo from Strato-Scruffy and Strato Freaks 2. Thanks to the power of epic licensing, my good friend defnotreal got Plok (yes really) and the Kid from I Wanna Be The Guy (also yes really, and there's a funny as hell story behind that one) as guest characters! Plok also has a Gambi skin, so I don't just get to cross over with Plok--I get to assimilate him! Thanks Pickfords!!!!!

Now, don't forget to find that Shootem Kickstarter and wishlist it! We got some amazing goals in mind you are not prepared for.

[chaoticcutiewhirl]

New Intro 3.0

We have been putting this off for a long while now but now its time to do this, and simply to say, we are a plural system that uses the collective name of "The Whirl Production House", Ava, or Whirl, and if you know us you know there is a tendency for us to be quite nerdy or atleast a collection of dorks obessed with more artistic endeavors. If you want to find us elsewhere here is our linktree:

Also before you look, to note is that we do have commissions, and before the link tree here is the comms sheet and feel free to message me if you want to possible support a disabled Transwoman

And beyond this it should be noted we are mostly a grouping of differing levels of otherkin sort of deals ranging between those of us who are fictives to those who are kins with very little shifting beyond that if at all. Mentioning that we should probably shift into introductions of individual members of our collective. I will say individual members because we are more so at the multiple end of the plural spectrum of things where its kinda easy to tell there are several of us up here, without bleed-through unless we are feeling blendy/foggy on who is fronting.

Also something to note, we gernally do not fall into Plural related labels and are still early in the processes of System stuff even though its been a few months since syscovery. Part of the reason is because the only ones of us that care about assigning labels feel we do not know enough to label everything, only using labels we do have an idea of working as apart of our system. Will those labels be disclosed? Not in this post atleast.

A Quick Rundown

We are the Whirl Production House system or Whirlproductions, a system to which is still figuring shit out who has an open mind to things so to get syscourse out of the way we are Pro Endo. I will say I am not afraid of blocking people as we generally do not care what you think but if you are annoying there is a way to make you shut up on our feed or notifs. Beyond that we generally face things with caution and are still learning about many things, we have a few ideas on who is what kind of roles but I will not share them and for origins I will say its either unknown or a mixture of several probably, with stress being a detriment at times and is part of the reason why we are not out publically about the Trans stuff alone IRL. We stress easily and have chronic illness (Some form of lung related thing as well as Fatigue) so if we are slow on the uptick please keep that in mind.

Headmates

Sylvia

Art by @/BunBunTushie on Twitter

Name: Sylvia S. / Sylvia Drake

Pronouns: She/Her

Sexuality: Demisexual-Lesbian

Kins: Mojave Sidewinder Rattlesnake, Sylvia Drake [Mice Tea]

Noting about Kins for Sylvia is that both are practically just who she is, as there are very few shifts out and when there is, it usually during hours of blurriness or questioning that leads to her questioning more of who she is, but being Sylvia Drake is basically the summary of her being

Age: Early to Mid-20s (Bodily we are 20 tho)

Likes: Writing, Looking at pretty art, doing research, music, Science Fiction (There is a lot), Westerns, TTRPGs, and Entertaining others

Dislikes: All Medical situations, Stress, People our body is related too by blood for the most part, Getting Yelled at, How the US Schooling system is set up

Tag: 🐍 Sylvia

Lucinda

Art by @observerkaine (Found you >:3)

Name: Lucinda

Pronouns: She/Her

Sexuality: Lesbian

Kins: Desert Hare, maybe Burnice White (ZZZ)

Age: Early 20s (Most coincides with the body's Age)

Likes: Art, Talking, Silly demeanors, Comedy, and Color theory

Dislikes: Loud noises, too many things to do, Time, and those who domineer a situation without consideration for others whether its through emotional or physical means, Awkward silence

Tag: 🌵Lucinda

Rowan

Art by @guacheenim (Oh Hey you are on here, hiya again.)

Name: Rowan

Pronouns: She/They/Xe

Sexuality: Asexual

Kins: Spider (Unspecified), Drider/Rachnae-like creatures

Age: Range of around the 30s

Likes: Quietness, Reading, Baking, Solitude, Safety and relaxation for all of us

Dislikes: Percieved threats, Stressors, People getting hurt, feeling useless

Tag: 🕸️Rowan

Kade

Art by @/D3monicY33n on Twitter

Name: Kade

Pronouns: He/She/They (Genderfluid)

Sexuality: Likes men and sometimes butch women

Kins: Carpet Shark

Age: Early 20s (Unconfirmed but lines up most with Lucinda in matching the Body

Likes: Being flamboyant, Piercings, Punk Subculture related music, 18+ stuff is especially tied to them

Dislikes: Feeling restricted, Fronting (Could be related to the first part),

Tag: 🦈Kade

Avarstia

Art by us... (May be replaced by digital art at some point tho lol)

Name: Avarstia Furhenbrook

Pronouns: She/Her

Sexuality: Lesbian

Kins*: Not actually a kin, she is a fictive of an OC we have of the same name and is legitimately said character and has helped greatly write the books she is involved with. In other words she is a Half-Demon, Goddess of Death, Winter, and Time who just somehow ended up here

Age: Given what is said above would it be surprising to say she is somewhere in her 700s on the mental side

Likes: Reading, Talking, Philosophy, Thought Expirementation, Writing, Observing, Storytelling

Dislikes: TTRPGs (She finds them boring), Menial tasks, Repetition, Staying in a single place for too long, Ideas of immortality or preventing decay,

Tag: 💀Avarstia

Fionn / Yang Xiao Long

Official Render from the Volume 8 episode of RWBY, "Refuge" (Will say there is divergence from canon in how she looks however)

Name: Yang Xiao Long

Aliases: Fionn

Pronouns: She/They

Sexuality: Lesbian

Kins*: Again as the shift with Avarstia shows, she is again falls under the aspect of being a Fictive in our system, she diverges from canon in the aspect that she is atleast blind in one eye in headspace as well as having a couple of Faunus features being her ears and tail, being a sort of draconic Faunus. Also Dragon Kin

Age: Early to mid 20s (Notably younger than Sylvia when we feel numbers are accurate)

Likes: Engineering, mechanics, learning about weapons and historical combat, comedy, Energetic music (Mostly rock and punk), helping others in any sense really

Dislikes: Feeling powerless, being Frontstuck (Its been almost 800 days by the time of drafting this), Biological family, others feeling bad, being objectified.

Tag: 🐲 Yang / Fionn

🐉 is also sometimes used as apart of her tag

Dendro

Art by Miranda Mundt, within the webtoon "Muted" (Again may update this when we have art on hand that is more to our preference)

Name: Dendrobrium, Dendro

Alias: Delphi

Pronouns: She/It

Sexuality: Demisexual-Lesbian

Kins*: She is again a Fictive of the character of Dendro from the webtoon Muted, with the main change between her appearance there and what is in our headspace being that she is more of a combination of Desert flora

Age: 300s, again like Avarstia she is a bit older but Dendro did mention it is an estimate given the time difference between Trea and Earth, but will say in source that is not a detail stated.

Likes: Plants, Gardening, Staying Healthy, existing beyond the confines of the place we live, being around people, learning

Dislikes: The body's Chronic Illness, the Desert Heat, and generally the urban areas of Arizona being the way they are.

Tag: 🌸 Dendro

Ceroba Ketsukane

Art by us but will note you can find Ceroba when she uses Tumblr on @kitsunetragedy

Name: Ceroba Ketsukane

Pronouns: She/her

Sexuality: Bi with a femme lean

Kins*: Again she is basically just a fictive of Ceroba from Undertale Yellow, with the only difference being that she has two tails

Age: Older than Rowan, younger by far than Dendro, Monsters age slower than humans just an exact age is not really set mentally but she is older.

Likes: Thrillers and Romance, Art of her source, Cuddlable things, Older music (50s-70s), Calm and quiet situations

Dislikes: Abrasive clothing, People who are quite rude, Failure

Tag: 🦊Ceroba

Note: Ceroba does not front much and is at moment of writing the newest member of our system so this will likely be updated at some point

Members who will not be given great detail

This section is mainly here because of system members who have either been identified or appeared once and haven't been active at really all and we do not know if they are apart of our system still or if their existence is confirmed outside of small blips:

Duana - Moth monstergirl who kinda was the main one angry at everything and was the host for a bit before Sylvia and Lucinda took the reigns, was noted as a member pre-syscovery by those who knew the system was a thing sort of passively back then and she hasn't reappeared in a long time.

Aria - Robot girl who appeared once for like half a day before disappearing into the ether of our brain, do not know if she was a fragment with more of a sense of self or if she is a headmate but she is logged on our SimplyPlural

Clémente Dearworth - Yaelokre Fictive, who appeared in our system very recently and is a middle

Nicole Demara - ZZZ Fictive, who also appeared in our system very recently. And is active, this may get updated again to add her to the main list of things. 🩷

??? - A third pressence of recent editions is known but is unknown.

Questioning on if they are Kins or Members of our System

Mentzelia Laev (OC), its less so feeling like we get too into the mindset of the character, its generally an aspect closer to Clemmie where I feel there is a potential Kin but its more further back, or maybe being someone who is currently not active in the system. Either way Bug Lady had a specific sense of self that has not changed much and would explain the like autumn we were obsessed with blacksmithing and medieval weapons.

Lethica Nightborne (Legends of Avantris, Edge of Midnight), This one is more of a situation where I do not know but suspect she could potentially be like one my brain has picked up upon in a similar sense to Avarstia, Ceroba, and Dendro, a character who is more of a comforting pressence than similar tracks of trauma.

Vash the Stampede (Trigun), this one I think is or will be a kin, I do not see the aspect of them as a headmate being likely given the difference in thoughts but I feel atleast someone in our system will be a kin of Vash... Just has those vibes.

Falin or Marcille (Dungeon Meshi), Again I feel its more of a kin but its somewhere as it was a moment months ago admist the whole identity crisis of syscovery, that I ended up going on a spree and you can check my Tumblr back in April to see it, we were still figuring things out so I have no clue who it would have been. Either way, I feel it may come back again when Dungeon Meshi season 2 drops given the more laxed nature of it all atm.

Burnice White (Zenless Zone Zero), a new one and is the first documented adition. There has been a back and forth between her being a kin or the budding of a headmate, but either way, one tie to Lucinda.

In other words do not be surprised if we update this post to mention them beyond this section, whether as a offhanded mention of a Kin or as apart of our system full on. This section may be updated or maybe not I will say though.

Other Information

Honestly I do not really know what else to add for y'all to know but if you wish to ask anything I may add tags or whatnot down here to give you all an idea of what we do such as possibly using the same tag we use on Bluesky and Twitter for art being:

#AvarstiaArt - Art posts by us

Beyond factors such as that feel free to send in asks and one of us may respond with an answer or whatnot.

[aooni]

hello ^_^ i hope you don’t mind my curiosity but rpgmaker horror games have been a huge Huge interest for me for years since childhood and its nice to see others enjoying and liking them in a non-ironic way LOL… anyway do you have a favorite version of ao oni?! i know there’s a lot of notable differences between them 0__0

Hey you unleashed some kind of demon in me and this is so long and I am sorry in advance about that. I really like being asked about video games, especially the ones I like that don't get a lot of unironic attention. I really just want to get out everything I love about this game.

I am putting this under a cut to not clog up the dashboards of others. Most of my mutuals are actually not into Ao Oni so I will be describing things as if whoever potentially reads it has little to no information about what happens in the first game.

The original public release of Ao Oni, version 1.1, is my favourite. It is mainly distinguished by its shorter length, lack of puzzles, different cast, and unique death count. It was the first version of the game I played in late 2022 and is the one that got me interested in the series.

I think what I like the most about it is actually the different setup and cast. You get a bit more context to the events leading up to the cast going to the mansion. I'd go as far as to say this is the only version that has what is essentially an opening cutscene. It features Hiroshi and his friend Kazuya being bothered by Takuro and his gang of bullies, who drag the two to the mansion. They all bicker for a bit before the game starts and none of it is particularly important but I think it gives the characters a bit more life. Also, important note for later, the names of the other bullies are Megumi, Takeshi, and Ryota.

First things first, a big part of my favouritism of this game comes from just the existence of Hiroshi and Kazuya as friends. I am attached to all of the friendships in Ao Oni but these two hold a special place in my heart because they were the first Ao Oni friendship I ever saw. Going into a more headcanon-y territory, I like to think Hiroshi's motivation to get out of the mansion is a bit different in this version. He likes Kazuya a lot. He stands up for Kazuya against the bullies and when everyone suddenly disappears from the hotel's foyer, his main concern is where the bullies took Kazuya. When Hiroshi finds Takeshi shivering in the closet, he also asks him about Kazuya. The way I see things personally, the big goal of Hiroshi, alongside escaping the mansion, is finding his friend :) !! It sure does suck that Kazuya no longer exists after version 1.1 :( ...

What makes this dynamic so unique is how in the other versions of the first game, the main four characters are all friends. They do butt heads sometimes, especially in version 3.0 where they all have a pretty negative discussion, but I'd consider them all pals. Other pieces of Ao Oni media like the novels bring back certain concepts like Takuro being a school bully but the focus here is the portrayal of characters in the first game, and in the first game, 1.1 is the only place where you're going to get Takeshi, Takuro, and Mika being presented as a kind of antagonistic force, if you don't count Takeshi apparently being the reason everyone went into the mansion in certain other versions of the game.

By the way, who the hell is Mika? I never said that was one of the characters names. Fun fact: Megumi is Mika. She was renamed after version 1.1 but is the same character! I love Mika and she is my favourite of the human characters so she's special. She gets her own paragraph in this dedicated to me explaining they changed her name. Do you want another paragraph about Mika? Well, you're getting one later and I'll be calling her Megumi in it because I need to stay consistent to the names in 1.1.

Oh also I might as well mentioned Ryota. He, like Kazuya was removed from the game entirely in future versions. He dies in a bathtub. That's kind of it. But, there is one more interesting thing about him. His sprite is actually the sprite that would be used for Hiroshi in later versions.

Left is Ryota. Right is Hiroshi.

This is a dead Hiroshi to me.

Moving away from characters, what I find most interesting about this version is actually it lacking something I'd say Ao Oni is known for. In terms of gameplay, I'd say a signature of the original Ao Oni is its puzzles, which often have randomised answers and require you to use lateral thinking. I've always enjoyed this, at least in the first game where the puzzles don't feel too stale. However, 1.1 lacks puzzles. Instead, you just wander around the mansion, evading the Oni and finding keys to new rooms that will hopefully contain Kazuya or a way out. While I do love the puzzles of the later versions, I feel like the vibe of the game completely changes when you're not trying to solve things and the sole elements are exploration and fear of the Oni. The mansion feels a lot more dead without puzzles and, to me, it feels more real in a weird way, even if this is a mansion haunted by a Photoshop demon. It also makes things miles easier. This was the first version I could learn to play without a walkthrough and someone I know who played 1.1 because of me flat out did not need any help beating the game.

There is difficulty to 1.1, though. In my opinion, it has the most difficult chases from the original Oni. I say original Oni because there is Fuwatti in 6.23, an oni who works completely differently and always kicks my ass. In 1.1, the original Oni will chase you for 20 seconds. On top of that, it has buggy AI. It can walk backwards, go sideways on stairs, or straight up get stuck. This has actually thrown me off and gotten me killed before but that's not really intentional difficulty, I think. I don't really blame the developer because RPG Maker is a wild beast that is difficult to tame when it comes to bugs. I have used RPG Maker. Just trust me on this.

The difficulty of the chases are partially made up for with the existence of a safe room. There is one room in the game where Megumi resides and it's the only room the Oni cannot enter at all. When you go in there, any chase will end in a matter of a few seconds. This doesn't negate the difficulty of chases because you have to actually make it to the room without dying (and sometimes you will be really far from it) but it helps a lot. I have a generally positive opinion on this room and Megumi barricading herself in there to protect herself from the Oni spawned my headcanon that she is generally pretty smart and also was the beginning of me becoming interested in her.

Speaking of the chases, they tie into another thing I adore about Ao Oni in general: the atmosphere! The game is relatively silent.

There are two more things to cover before we just get into nothing but headcanons and random info. Death time. In version 3.0 and 6.23, everybody dies except Hiroshi. In version 5.2, either everybody dies or everybody lives since there are two endings. In version 1.1, there is no all or nothing situation. Ryota and Takuro are explicitly seen dead. Takeshi is never seen again and is presumed dead as he never escapes the mansion. Hiroshi, Kazuya, and Megumi get out alive. I think it's neat in comparison to just everyone living or everyone dying.

If you would let me be negative for a moment, I actually dislike the lead up to the ending. The mansion is just suddenly unlocked and Kazuya leaves. Okay. What. I have strongly disliked this specific moment for two years. I even have a snippet of a review I wrote about two years ago of me getting a little heated about this particular moment. I will also include another snippet about my only other issue with the game relating to the lack of clarification on Takeshi's status. I just wish you got something cool like re-opening the closet he's in later and seeing his body fall out of it.

This is a really sudden way to end this but an extremely important emergency has just come up in the middle of me typing this so I cannot finish it and am unsure of when I will be able to. I hope this does provide some context as to how I feel about the game, though. I am posting this as it is for now since I don't know when I'll be able to get the rest of my reasons down. This is also why some paragraphs may seem unfinished.

[eldritchmochi]

okay so, to have a place for consolidated information for the next little bit, since i'm sure folks have QUESTIONS given my incredibly aggressive gallows humour

MOCHI, WHAT THE FUCK IS UP WITH THAT?? (guts edition)

if you got here via a link, follow this link instead for the latest update here's updates 1.5, 2.0, and 3.0 !

tldr ive been getting a number of recurrent small bowel obstructions located in my duodenum (first part of the small intestine, connecting the stomach to the rest of the bowel) due to external pressure on the duodenum around the 3rd to 4th (of 4) section. what's causing the pressure?? no clue actually ive done a bazillion scans and none of them have been quite clear enough for a real confident dx so i get to have surgery about it at some point in the near future

current theory is the pressure is from some sort of non-cancerous tumor mass and the plan is to cut me open nice and big, look about, and remove both this mass and the affected section of the duodenum (.5 of an organ) at a minimum, but may involve fully bipassing the duodenum when my guts get hooked back up to my stomach which could (would???) also require removing my gallbladder (1 and 2 organs respectively) (i'm having so much yanked out of my abdomen this summer jfc)

atm i'm still waiting for scheduling to give me a call to set things up. surgeon's estimate was 4-5 weeks from now (8/17 when he called). from that point i'll spend a week-ish in the hospital to make sure all hoses are firmly affixed, and then i'll have a month at a minimum before i'm reasonably healed and can go back to normal life

i have good insurance and the luck (????) of being incredibly ill at the best of times, so i've already hit my out of pocket max and thus this WHOLE THING even back dating to my first er visit end of june will cost a whopping 189$ that i've already paid. i also should qualify for my states paid medical leave and my wife will get a hefty chunk of change for living expenses via student loans. however, both those things won't hit until late september at the earliest

long term, im not expecting much of a financial burden, but short term we could use a hand with groceries and similar while we wait for my backpay and my wife's student loans

for venmo and paypal: i am @/sumomomochi for both and either is fine, though pp is labeled as a business account so pls mark f&f if you can

i also have this amazon wishlist ( https://www.amazon.com/hz/wishlist/ls/N1NSTH3JPCX2?ref_=wl_share ) that is like 90% meal replacement shakes and bulk shelf stable snacks, but also has a couple of other useful things like bathing wipes since i am unlikely to be able to shower well post surgery, pj pants for when it cools down (i went up a size with t because my ass and thighs got just so beefy and thus have one pair that fits rn lmao), and cat food for the penni (gotta keep my nurse well paid)

uuuh what else

like i said, i'm incredibly ill at the best of times so i am a champ at weathering this sort of stuff its nbd. "i'm sorry"s are not helpful, i'd much rather have people ask direct specific questions, either about my health status or things i'm doing to keep busy (ie "any new and fun things causing tummy issues?" or "hows your battle vest coming?" or "whats your fav line youve written this week?"). engagement and entertainment is Important to keep me from climbing the walls but i swear i will bite at straight sympathy

things ive been doing to keep me out of the er include: laying on my left side or stomach (The Digestion Position; helps get food past the squished part); eating a semi-liquid diet (hence ensure, jello, pudding, the like, though its important that i also eat solid food as much as is tolerated, which is such a delicate balance. this is why i cannot currently work); going on stupid little walks for my stupid digestive health (honestly the most important thing i can do, which im mad about, because it requires pants, but not only encourages guts to digest but also will help me not decondition, which i have already done a lot of :I)

things YOU can do to help (because i know *i* am a helper but also what is actually helpful??): financially with the above deets (no pressure); asks, comments, and other conversational interactions (i am absolutely chill with basically any kind of question and i dont mind dms if youd prefer privacy, just dont pedestal me i promise i am just A Dude); fanart for my fics (i do not care if you "cant draw" i will still love it); prompts for fandom but not necessarily fic projects (wardrobe moodboards/meta for characters, playlists/songs, smut writing how to questions, cosplay progress/plans qs, those "what was x's pov in this scene/what specifically happened between x and y in this fic?" qs andor other ask meme things idk dude i haven't been able to do shit for almost three months im booooored)

in conclusion

nurse penni says do not worry about herb patient, he is in good hands, just be sure to offer regular enrichment

[aotopmha]

Done with FF14 patch 5.2.

I think there are two issues I have with it:

1) How Ardbert's body managed to stay preserved for 100 years for Elidibus to possess it.

2) The filler.

In terms of the first point, usually they address these things in some form, be it in main or side dialog, and I did not get to every piece of side dialog.

(So if anyone knows and can find anything on this, I'd gladly be corrected on whether they do clarify it in some form or not.)

It makes sense for the Cardinal Virtues because their bodies lived on as Sin Eaters.

But as far as we know, Ardbert's was buried for a hundred years. It should be dust.

I think it's a very similar situation to Minfilia's entire plot thread involving the idea of one having to consume the other and the Scions not really putting any effort into trying to separate the two instead, which is a really obvious idea that's never really brought up.

I can fully understand how these can be overlooked writing-wise because the entire situation with Minfilia gives the characters and audience an interesting moral quandary and the situation with Ardbert's body some really nice weight to Elidibus as a villain and character.

And to be fair, I think the implication with Minfilia has always been that they just couldn't find any other solution since as said, one has to absorb the other to be at full power.

The situation with Ardbert's body is tougher because the most we have is the implication of finding his Crystal of Light and returning it to Seto and that the crystal might have preserved the body, but as said, it's never really spelled out directly how his body stayed fine enough for Elidibus to possess.

(I do find it funny that Elidibus supposedly shaved, though.)

For the second point, with the story getting so much better with making sure everything matters in Shadowbringers, some of the side stuff, particularly the subplot with the two guys wanting to become Warriors of Light felt timewaste-y, it reinforces Elidibus' plan, but I feel like that whole aside with them before the dungeon didn't really need to be there and these really stand out in a story with actually decent enough pacing.

I've also been watching a FF7 playthrough recently and it struck me so heavily how concise and straight to the point, but still meaningful that game is with its dialog even through some of the awkward translation.

I love FF14 deeply, but its prose can hurt, especially in the ARR to StB era.

Brevity is the soul of wit, they say and I'm happy Shadowbringers and Endwalker not only much improved the storytelling, but also the prose of the story itself.

I actually felt the difference in prose the most between 3.0 and 3.3-3.5 and 4.0 and 4.1-4.5 earlier on, but Shadowbringers and Endwalker are the true big step forward and I don't mean just not in terms of wasting your time, but also in terms of making the smaller, slower moments just as substantial as the big turning points.

They're still not perfect (oh boy, the lead up to Mt. Gulg and the entire final section before the Atiascope in Labyrinthos), but the story makes sure the slow stuff at least matters by the end. The Moogle quest in HW could be almost entirely removed and nothing much would change, same for the Company of Heroes/wine quest in ARR and most of the chores in StB, particularly the ones involving the Ruby Sea.)

That's what I really like about the Endwalker patches. They're all super evenly paced, always keeping things going within the narrative they're telling. You never linger too long at any point in my eyes. In fact, I feel 6.5 might've needed a little more breathing room with some elements.

But tl;dr, I just really appreciate how much the game has improved narrative pacing-wise despite still not being perfect with it. It's really nice.