#So basically I was more online that last year and that’s probably not great

[applepi00]

I posted 4,048 times in 2022

That's 1,181 more posts than 2021!

675 posts created (17%)

3,373 posts reblogged (83%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@chubsthehamster

@ancientstone

@feralrookie

@idlenight

@nautilusopus

I tagged 2,241 of my posts in 2022

Only 45% of my posts had no tags

#emi rambles - 414 posts

#emi writes - 321 posts

#bsd - 258 posts

#bungou stray dogs - 147 posts

#soukoku - 132 posts

#phantoms - 126 posts

#reblog - 120 posts

#nakahara chuuya - 114 posts

#dazai osamu - 81 posts

#on love - 64 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#okay i barely remember using the vcr because obvs nobody wanted grimy kid hands on it but i know it works and it’s weird seeing it explained

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

As per usual, my mum and I were watching Star Trek before bed, and we got to the second season episode of TNG called “Offspring”, in which Data has a daughter, and lemme tell you I was nearly crying by the end.

The beginning is very wholesome! Most of the episode as Data teaches Lal is very wholesome! But then the ending! It crushed me!

She exceeds Data, she achieves what I understand from sci-fi films to be the ultimate goal of artificial intelligence: human emotion. She experienced fear and confusion at the prospect of being separated from her father and the only life she’s ever known, and then a neural net failure. Data works doggedly at saving her, in a scene that very much screams frantic parent beneath the cool exterior of his android behaviour, especially as told by the Admiral.

And then Lal’s last scene. She experiences love, tells her father she loves him that she thanks him for her life, and he says that he wishes he could feel it with her, she replies that she’ll feel it for both of them. Then she shuts down, her expression goes first, then sentences become single words to describe her life, finally ending on “family”. Her last thought was of family, of the father that cared for her and taught her and loved her in what ways he could, and then she was gone. Omygod I was in tears.

79 notes - Posted January 4, 2022

#4

I’m reading Madeline Miller’s Song of Achilles, and I think the brilliant heart striking beauty of it (and of other tragic retellings, like Hadestown) is that we know what happens.

We know how this story ends, but we tell it again, we tell it and tell it in different words and different ways hoping that this time it will be different, this time it will be happy. But it never is. A tragedy hurts because we know it will, we know the living beast of it will arrive at that predetermined end no matter how we fight it. It’s an old story, but we tell it anyways.

92 notes - Posted January 18, 2022

#3

It breaks my heart seeing young queer kids ask if they’re allowed to use the “q slur” (direct quote) if they know they aren’t straight but aren’t sure what label they fit.

Like babes, yes of course, that’s the point of the word queer. It isn’t a dirty word it is an umbrella that covers all of us. You are allowed to call yourself queer.

99 notes - Posted April 15, 2022

#2

Mcr and Dan and Phil being around and trending in this year of our lord 2022, I feel like I’m thirteen again jesus fuck

130 notes - Posted September 7, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I will say, the addition of the minor bit of time travel nonsense in Ghibli’s Howl’s Moving Castle is probably my favourite change to the story, just the “there you are sweetheart, I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” lives in my head rent free and it’s so good! So soft! Because this Howl really has been looking for Sophie! She told him to!

It just makes my heart happy.

200 notes - Posted October 7, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

With Duolingo getting enshittified, do you know any similar alternatives for learning Welsh? I started last year but stopped after moving here because house move, spoons, etc. and all the news about it is really putting me off restarting on duo.

If vocab is what you want, there's an app called Influent that has a Welsh option. It's paid - I think it costs a fiver? So not much. But it's great for vocab, and gamified, so that's fun.

Actual courses:

learnwelsh.cymru is the official Welsh Government supported website to hook you up with any course. At any level, too, from absolute entry level beginner to "Used to speak it but haven't in a while so need to polish up". You can find in person courses, online courses, long ones, short ones, free ones, paid ones, ones designed for employment (including specific fields), Saturday workshops, residentials, digital resources... There's tonnes. Absolutely tonnes. And, if you want one of the paid new beginner ones, they're currently discounted to half price until the end of January with the code CYMRU24. Obviously, free ones are shorter and much more basic than paid, but they do exist.

Your local Menter Iaith will very likely have some options; go along and ask (you can do that in English, they'll be fine with it).

SaySomethingInWelsh is always always the best. It uses a completely different language learning method and it churns out fluent speakers like you wouldn't believe. This is because their course focuses on verbal and oral language acquisition skills rather than the written word. Now, they used to achieve this, in the online courses, by means of audio recordings, but they have finally built their own AI NO DON'T SWITCH OFF COME BACK they built it themselves. It hasn't replaced anyone, and won't. It just makes the audio recordings into something more interactive and therefore more effective. And currently if you sign up to it, you get it for a tenner a month (this will sometime soon be rising to £30 a month, but if you sign up while it's still a tenner they'll never put you up to the £30).

Or, they do an in-person intensive course, which is 100% effective and incredible but costs £2000 a day. Like, it will make you fluent in weeks, but that's way too steep for the likes of us peasants.

And, I expect others will probably add in the notes any others I've missed. So keep an eye there. Good luck!

[lil-tachyon]

For the last couple weeks I've been drawing logos / designs for local-ish (mostly NJ, some PA and NY) bands as warmups in the morning. Here's what I've come up with! Massive post below the break explaining each logo + where to find each band and listen to their music.

Teenage Halloween- a staple of New Jersey basements for probably about a decade now and finally getting wider recognition in the last couple years. Pop punk / power pop with a killer horn section. First time I saw them was in New Brunswick playing with Walter Etc. and Blowout. They played a killer cover "Build Me Up Buttercup" and my wife got a black eye in the pit. Recommended tracks: "Brain Song," "666," "Clarity." Their first EP is on a separate bandcamp page btw, check it out here it's great.

Sweet Pill - They will call themselves a Philly band but in my heart they'll always be from Glassboro. Definitely one of the more recognizable names on this list. Emo revival - early stuff is more twinkly, more recent stuff is heavier. All of it's great. Recommended tracks "Nephew," "High Hopes."

Shark Club - Central Jersey's finest. I'm very biased because I actually know these dudes and they did the music for my wedding. Some of the best pop punk you'll hear and the nicest people you'll meet. Recommended tracks: "Game Theory," "Bill Murray," "Heavens to Betsy."

Rest Ashore - My favorite band for the last (oh God I'm old now) eight years. From gut-wrenching emo ballads to virtuoso math-rock instrumentals they do it all. One time I got to sing vocals on "Lucy's Theme" at a house show- thank you Erica! Recommended tracks: "Hjarta," "Chinese Opera," "Devotion," "Soyuz Sweetheart." Too many bangers to name honestly, just deep dive their discography.

Morus Alba - First band I ever went to see at a house show and still one of my absolute favorites. Their music feels like the bridge between the best pitchfork, /mu/ alt rock bands and high energy basement emo. I mean that as a compliment and I hope it comes off as one lol. I should note that since 2019 Morus Alba has morphed from a band into an experimental hip-hop project so later releases sound radically different and basically disconnected from the earlier stuff. Also my favorite release from them, Live at Isabelle's, has been scrubbed from the internet but if you'd like the files just email me. Recommended tracks: "Skyscraper," "Human Resources," "The Goodnight Waltz."

Have a Good Season - another Jersey mainstay that's still going strong. Emo revival in their earlier releases, now with more 70s power pop influences in their newer stuff. See them live, they put on a fantastic show and usually play some great covers in addition to their original music. HaGS guys if you're reading this, please put your version of "Since You've Been Gone" online, I'm begging you. Recommended tracks: "Joseph / Shel Silverstein," (you have to listen to them together for the drop, so good) , "Gum, "Gleaux / Scab." Also, frontman Nic Palermo interviewed me once.

Elephant Jake - If you see any of these bands live make it EJ, they put on such a damn good show. Electrifying indie punk from the Empire State. Recommended tracks: "F.D.C." "Sarah Moyer," "Goodness to Honest," and of course you gotta learn "Sebastien Bauer" for the singalongs.

Blind Lion - Sadly one of the greats that we lost along the way. Defunct since about 2017. I only got to see them once but it was a great performance. Alongside their own stuff they played some killer covers of "Bad Moon Rising" and "Moonage Daydream." I had trouble doing a logo design for them because I actually really like the composition, if not the "Ed Hardy-ness," of their existing logo so what you see here are two separate attempts, neither of which feels entirely satisfying to me. Frontperson Larry Flately currently plays in Nematode and also handled production of Bradley Gardens joke hiphop group The Breakfast Boiz under the moniker "DJ Ova EZ." Recommended tracks: "Brumous," "Dinner."

Fighting Seasons - A band that I sadly found out about too late (via a sticker under the bridge in my town which has since been painted over). 2010s pop punk that packs a helluva punch, especially considering that I'm pretty sure the members were high schoolers for most of the band's existence. I think some members may have gone on to form Sawce (FFO Chon, Polyphia, that type of music) but I can't remember where I read/heard that so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. Recommended tracks: "Fighting Seasons," "Oil on Canvas"

Milkmen- Another fallen giant, officially disbanded in 2019. Like Morus Alba, they played the very first house show I attended and their few releases remain on constant rotation in my home. Used to put on a great show and were one of the bands I always thought would make it big until suddenly they weren't around anymore. Frontman Ben Thieberger contributed guitar and vocals to Covid quarantine project Kin if you're looking for a bit of an extra fix but beyond that I don't know what these guys are up to these days, sadly. Recommended tracks: "Ramus," "Johnny Dangerously," "how sieves catch breeze," "K.O.T.H."

Stand and Wave - New York (now Philly) pop punkers delivering instant dopamine hits with every track. Another great live act, see them with EJ if you can! They often play shows together. Recommended tracks: "Convos," "Mrs. Dash," "Splashton Kutcher," "Michael Collins."

My Chemical Romance - You know who they are. While I was drawing all these other logos I ran a poll on Patreon to decide which famous New Jersey band should also be graced with a drawing from me. MCR won the poll by a hefty margin so unfortunately you won't get to see me do an illegible black metal take on Hoboken's Yo La Tengo. I ended up doing two versions: the one with the halo is the first, the one with the bats was the second. I tried to do something kind of thin and elegant with the first one and I don't think it's terrible but I also wasn't quite satisfied with it. For the 2nd attempt I tried to lean into the kind of pulpy, almost horror punk aesthetic of early MCR and I think that one looks better even if it's less original.

Anyway if you took the time to read through all this, thank you very much! And please support these bands! Also If any of the links aren't working please let me know.

-Logan

[foldingfittedsheets]

Heyo I was wondering if you know anything about mattresses and chronic pain and what may help more? I have chronic migraines and I've been looking into getting a new Mattress cause mine is old and needs replaced and I was like trying to do research on chronic migraines ans mattresses seeing if I might find one that may help (unfortunately I spend a lot of time in bed due to disabilities) and I'm looking to get a queen but like researching online I'm finding like a lot of conflicting stuff and most of it seems to be just buy our mattress it cures migraines or dumb stuff like that or something I know it depends probably on your body and preferences too but being disabled I have like no money so it's a big purchase for me and then our nearest mattress store is over a 2 hour round trip away and when you're disabled that's like going to the moon and I don't feel well so I want to do as much research as I can before I go cause last time I ended up in too much pain by the second store that i just picked the first mattress that hurt less to lay on and was like ok let's go spent far too much money on it and for the last idk 12 years? 11? Have disliked it immensely any advice would be much appreciated bc all I know at this point is that I need a queen

So for you, shopping around is a big ol Don’t. Don’t do that to yourself. Every store is going to have basically the same beds. Conserve your energy for finding the right bed once you’re in store.

You cannot research how a bed is going to feel for your body. But you can research where you want to buy it from. Compare for delivery fees, reviews, and services. A good place should have a long window to return or exchange, that means they’ll take care of you if something goes wrong.

Once you go in, convey immediately that you have special needs and must try as few beds as possible. A large portion of people shopping for beds are those with health issues that can’t ignore their mattresses impact on their health. The person should be prepared to make it as low impact as possible.

There is not going to be a mattress that you lay on that can cure your migraines. But there will be mattresses that are more comfortable for long times being bed bound. And the only thing I’ve ever heard associated with reducing migraines is getting to keep your head up, so for you with chronic pain and migraines who spends a lot of time in bed, getting a cheaper bed to budget for an adjustable base is a good idea. There’s places that have great sales on the adjustable bases specifically so that’s worth looking for.

I suspect that in your case having a hybrid might be up your alley, but it depends on you. All foam is the most pressure relieving with chronic pain but it can be harder to move around which is rough if you’re bed bound. Hybrid is best of both worlds.

Good luck, I hope it goes as well as it can!

[softomegaposting]

in honor of my backache from sleeping in my nest on the floor last night (a hardwood floor covered with a sheepskin and a throw blanket) i wanna talk about nest mattresses! in real life and worldbuilding. disclaimer that my knowledge comes from mostly online so it’s probably not completely accurate.

so! cool floor beds i found that would make good nest bases.

the type of bed i could find the most on online is the Japanese futon. it’s what the western futon/sofa bed was originally modeled after but it’s very different. it’s basically a very thin mattress (shikifuton) over tatami mats (rush grass outer layer with a foam or rice straw core). both parts are much more moveable than a western style mattress. another important consideration i think is relevant is that futon covers go all the way around the mattress and can be washed (unlike western sheets which leave the bottom of the mattress uncovered which if it’s on the floor can get gross). futons are also meant to be aired out in the sun, which helps the whole dust thing.

another cool bed type i found are montessori-style house beds. they’re typically used for young children (toddlers and preschoolers) but do come in larger sizes (the biggest i’ve seen is a full). the bed frame sits directly on the floor with a thin mattress and a wooden house-shape on top that can support a canopy/curtains (which would be super cool for a nest lets be real). some also come with bed rails and bumpers so little kids don’t fall out, which i think would also be good for a nest because it’s more cozy.

of course i must mention the “human dog beds” which gained popularity in 2022 from going on shark tank but i remember first hearing about them around 2015-ish (and of course going that would make a great nest!). it is what it sounds like.

another, probably the cheapest option here, is camping mattresses. you know what these are. super thin air mattresses with foam tops. some come in double width (better for a nest imo) but most of them are made of that terrible slippery fabric (good for camping, bad for everything else). this might not be a problem for most people but i’m autistic and i gag touching them. you could cover it with a rug or blanket but those might slip off of it due to the gross slipperiness of the fabric. idk.

the last thing i can think of are traditional mattresses that are just. thin. you could use a mattress topper but a real mattress would definitely feel better even if they’re the same height because real mattresses have a comfort layer and a base layer and a topper only has the comfort layer (=more back pain for you). consider: dorm mattresses (at least my dorm had them, and it made an amazing nest), rv mattresses, and trundle mattresses. they’re all basically the same thing just different keywords (and slightly different sizes for the rvs). my sister has slept on a 4 inch mattress for six years or so and she only occasionally complains of back pain but for occasional use it would be fine (she also has scoliosis so. could be that).

now for some quick worldbuilding notes:

i definitely think that in an omegaverse society nest mattresses would be common. i think they would mimic traditional mattresses but shorter, like rv mattresses, but have an all-around washable cover/sheets to protect from floor grossness, sort of like dorm mattresses but able to be washed more easily. i also think they would come in more square or round shapes instead of the typical rectangle twin shape. i can see them having folding capabilities like some rv mattresses do, so that people could sun them like futons to get rid of dust mites.

i can also see nest frames being a thing, sort of like the montessori bedframes, with pillow bumpers to make a more enclosed vibe. i can also see a huge market for both frame-mounted or ceiling-mounted canopies, because who doesn’t want that.

maybe houses would be built with specific nest areas in mind, maybe with softer floors like tatami vibes or carpet. i’ve heard talk about conversation pits which are absolutely so cool but i can also see the advantage in an elevated nest space. my favorite nest of all time was in a ceiling cabinet because i could see the whole room but was harder to see myself, which made me feel really safe. so maybe houses might be built with raised nest platforms, or even small ceiling lofts overlooking a larger room (i couldn’t find an exact picture of what i’m thinking but this is close:)

[the-64th-gamer]

I feel like the last year has been a great push for me to slowly detach myself from giant companies and ensure what I do is in my control and ownership

Finally switched over to linux permanently

switched to firefox

enabled adblocker, sponsor blockers, and tracker removers

disabled autoplay and the recommendations sidebar on YouTube (highly highly encourage, though I still keep the homepage open so I can choose when to browse new suggested content rather than it pestering me)

downloaded all my tumblr posts and now host them parallel on my website (stuck here until we find some decentralized way of doing social media right)

cleared out 99% of my online storage to now be on multiple hard-drive backups

downloaded locally all my music

removed myself from basically every data tracking social media platform except this and YouTube

And now currently I'm trying to consolidate all my feeds into just an RSS reader.

It takes a long time and a lot of planning, but its very rewarding to take control over what you want to see, how you see it, how its formatted, ect. I find these are my steps to an easy transition off a certain service:

Download all your data and back it up. Now your account can be deleted at any time with no remorse.

Find browser extensions that enhance and modify the experience to what you might need. Use that to tangibly guide your preferences. Go ahead and remove the app on your phone if its there.

Research every alternative service and try them out. Begin moving certain activity exclusively to the alternative. Take time getting used to it and see if its better to try more alternatives.

Completely jump ship, delete the account, move all feeds or settings over.

Its an ongoing process but there's still probably a few more years of this to go through. Future plans are:

Completely remove all prior emails and self host a new one

Get off Discord entirely except for running the wiki server. It sucks that Discord is so prevalent. Probably move to various forums. Maybe look into some sort of forum management software such as how RSS feeds tame articles and videos into one place.

Setup adblockers directly into my router so ads won't even appear on phones.

Setup my phone to just straight up also run linux. There's a few mobile-designed linux platforms to look into until I decide.

[youcouldmakealife]

Stuff That Helps Me Write: Procrastination Busting (Novelty Edition)

So, last week I was talking about the interest based nervous system versus the importance based nervous system, and how people with interest based nervous systems are driven by urgency, novelty, challenge/competition, and interest, versus the more common importance based nervous system, which is driven by importance (to yourself or to others), rewards, and consequences.

I don’t know whether ADHD or autism has a larger impact on my life — they often impact different areas, and they frequently compensate for one another in the areas they do overlap, when they aren't forming an unlikely alliance hellbent on my destruction. But my writing process is 100% run by ADHD. So because these tips are the ones that work for me, and my writing process is, top to bottom, ADHD as fuck, they’re probably going to be pretty heavily slanted toward ADHD peeps, though of course YMMV.

Tackling novelty first, because, well, of course I am. This can also appear as ‘novelty/creativity’, but honestly, I think that’s a little redundant: doing, say, a creative version of a task is simply injecting novelty, and I think novelty is a much easier concept to understand for most people than creativity is. Novelty can be boiled down to single words we learn the meaning of at a young age (new! Different!), whereas creativity has fifteen different definitions, every single one of which might spark debate. So for our purposes, I’m sticking with just novelty.

Here are some ways I inject novelty into my writing process:

Roll the dice.

This doesn’t have to be dice, though the 20-sided ones are absolutely great for this. You can use decks of cards, random number generators, slips of paper, whatever — one of the best ways to make yourself do a bunch of shit you don’t actually want to is to attach those tasks to numbers (or colours, or suits, or whatever), and let fate decide. This can work in a lot of ways: you assign each task to a number, say, or you roll the dice on how long you have to work on it, or what order you’re doing them in, or whatever. I tend to be much more chill about doing a task when The Dice are the ones telling me to do it. It’s stupid. It works.

Roll the dice (pt 2)

This is also a fun way to create prompts: say each number is a character. You roll the dice: okay, I’ll write about David. Now I’ve associated the dice with a word, or a concept, or whatever. Okay, David and touch. Insta-prompt, no creative thinking required.

Prompts

Speaking of prompts and lack of creativity: I have tricked you all. Oh ho ho. You think you are getting a fill to a prompt you want to see (and, admittedly, you are, as long as I haven’t wandered off course, which cannot be guaranteed), but in return I am getting writing ideas without actually needing to have them! I don’t think I would be able to write 100+ stories a year if I had to think up every single idea myself, but if you outsource the creativity — well, win-win. Someone gets their prompt filled, and I get the spark of inspiration I need to fuel my writing.

Obviously this one needs to be adapted just a bit for other scenarios, but you can gather inspiring things (lines from books, poetry, lyrics, whatever) for future inspiration, you can look for online writing prompts or tell yourself you’ll write to fill a category (senses, say, or seasons, or elements, etc etc). Basically, if you don’t know what to do, forcing yourself to respond to a prompt, or follow a theme, often provides just enough constraints for creativity to happen.

When you’re stuck, move on to something else

It’s very common productivity advice to focus on just one thing and do it start to finish before you move on to the next. Don’t do it.* It’s a trap.

I do agree with the ‘one task only’ advice inasmuch as multi-tasking… doesn’t actually exist (if we’re talking something like ‘writing and listening to music’, or ‘doodling during a lecture’, that can go great, but that’s not really multitasking, so much as adding complementary stimulation. If you’re trying to, say, write an essay during a lecture, at least one (and probably both) of those tasks will suffer.) but beyond that, no.

It’s probably great advice if you’re neurotypical but I genuinely cannot think of a worse suggestion for anyone with low frustration tolerance and fucky dopamine. I hit an obstacle in that ‘just one thing’ I am doing? Cool, great, guess it’s time to stop doing it forever.

If you’re working on several different things (especially if those things use different skills and/or headspaces), when you get stuck on one, you can pivot to work on something else and let your subconscious do all that cool underrated stuff in the background, and maybe when you return to it you’ll have figured out a way around whatever your obstacle is. And even if you haven’t, at least your frustration tolerance will have been reset.

If the project you’re doing isn’t working for whatever reason, especially if you’re growing frustrated (nothing good ever follows after the point you snap at your blameless computer), do something else, and come back to it when you’re in a better headspace. Some things you have to muscle through for various reasons: say, you procrastinated on it and it’s due tomorrow. But most things you don’t. So don’t.

*I’ll straight up say I can ‘do just one thing’ for longer periods with less stress now that I’ve been medicated, but it was an awful, painful process when I wasn’t, so I still don’t really recommend it for those who have fucky dopamine.

Do! Multiple! Projects!

Yes, this can bring us to the ‘start 17 projects and finish none, don't you dare look at my WIP folder’ ADHD trap, but there’s a pretty good place between extremes. The main reason I work on multiple series at a time (plus outtakes!) is so that if I’m stuck on one, or it’s not inspiring me, or I’m just not in the right mood, I don’t have to stare at my blank screen feeling like a complete failure, I can just scoot on over to work on something else that's calling to me. Do I always do the most important thing? Or the one that’s due next? Or even the one I want to work on? Perhaps not, but I do spend the vast majority of my writing time actually writing, which is more than a lot of people can say.

It helps to have projects in different areas of your life and different stages of completion, for extra variety (and therefore novelty), just beware the ‘I have 5% left of this project to do, shouldn’t take more than 7 years’. When you do reach that final stage, that is when it’s a good idea to get laser focused on ‘just one thing’.**

**Big caveat with the above tips on NOT focusing on 'just one thing' is that I’m specifically referring to ‘typical’ tasks, not hyperfocus. If you’re hyperfocusing on something, and it’s not hurting you (ie keeping you from feeding yourself, basic self-care, sleeping, genuine obligations, etc), you ride that high as far as it takes you, baby. The ability get 5 days of work done in 5 laser focused hours would cost a fortune if they could replicate it, by all means use it to your advantage. But you do need to rest and recharge after: it drains the hell out of your mental resources and cannot be depended on indefinitely. It’s the very best tool in my toolbox. If I use it without allowing myself to recharge I will lose access to it indefinitely.

Change something about the process

It doesn’t need to be a big thing. I can switch from using my laptop to writing by hand. Or write in my bedroom rather than my office. A lot of my internal resistance to tasks is ‘this is boring’ — I’m lucky that doesn’t often happen with writing, because it’s inherently interesting to me, but sometimes you’re just stuck, and a change of scenery, of tools and equipment, of context (say, go write the POV of another character if you're stuck on a scene) is enough to shake the blah. I’m going to go into that in a lot more detail when I hit ‘interest’ and ‘challenge’ because those are both great things to inject when things have gone stale, but a lot of the time, it doesn’t matter what the change is: the fact there was a change is enough.

[lizzieicecreamqueen]

Today, right now, after owning the journal 3 for God knows how long, I finally finished reading it! I've been owning it since like 2018 but I only finished reading it today, 6 years later 😭 So, when I got it I started reading it but I had other things to do so I was slow and I was stuck on the unicorns pages (the one that Mabel wrote). Then, in 2020 I lost it while remodeling my bedroom and forgot about it. In 2022 I found it but I was going through the lowest point of my life and decided it wasn't time to read it since I didn't thought I was gonna be capable of read it, basically cause I've always loved Gravity Falls and ir had always meaned a lot to me. I was always considered a "weird kid" and had to hide my personality from people at my class so this show was really fascinating. I was scared that by reading it I would break down. So I kept it on my shelf and promised myself to read it when I got mentally stable. And this year, I finally started to get myself back so I knew I should read it and finish it. I started on reading it this September, from the start. And today, October 22, I did it!!! And I'm crying so much. That last page really meant so much to me. And I know that this js just a little silly tv show, but, I'm still 14 after all. And this show has been a really important part of me since I was like 5. I have such a great memories of spending summer afternoons watching the episodes that aired on the TV, watching the summerween episode on Halloween and creating my own theories. I've been through many up and downs through my not so long years of living but this show has always sticked to me and made me realize that being weird is great. The journal was truly great, getting to know about the creatures and characters more in depth was fantastic! And while reading it I unlocked so many memories ♡

Ive been also translating the codes on it. I know you can probably find it all online but doing it my own feels cool and it's also really entertaining! Might sound weird but I feel like it has helped me to reconnect with a part of myself that I thought was lost. I feel more like myself again.

[memorycycle]

post for @wuggen asked to see the code i wrote for simulating a realistic car engine so here

its built in godot btw

the script extends rigidbody3d cus im actually just moving an invisible sphere along the ground with a car basically stapled to it

did you know car engines put out different levels of torque at different rpms which affects like basically everything about the car. the torque curves are actually way more complicated than this, they kind of look like ramps with a hump in the middle followed by a dip followed by a bigger hump. but im just doing something that looks more like a perfect mound here. it works fine

i found the equation power=torque*rpm/9549.3 online from a forum where some guy posted the results of a dyno run on his porsche. the number 9549.3 is definitely specific to that porsche, so its probably a variable id want to be able to change later i guess

theres 2 big scary chunks of code here written by someone else which youre looking at in the pic above. i dont know shit about rotating and transforming 3d shapes so yea thanks guy on youtube

^this is basic shit but let me say one thing having the layout of accelerating with up on the right stick and braking with down on the right stick makes racing games so much more intuitive to play because suddenly it all just becomes one button that like the player understands in their mind as just "movement" and say for example when the player is coming up on a turn and they point both the steering and throttle joystick towards the turn whats happening is that they steer towards the turn of course but also they decelerate because the right stick is no longer pointed fully up in the Y direction, its Y value is now something like 0.7 instead of 1.0 because of the angle the stick is pointed in, that extra 0.3 went to the X direction , meaning the player automatically decelerates the car based on the angle of the turn without even having to think about it. if the turn starts to become more hairpin the angle is so great that the Y starts becoming negative and now braking is happening instead of acceleration automatically. its actually beautiful how simple and effective it is

^heres my cool function that does basically everyuthing related to the rpm. different gears rise and fall at different rpm speeds and it even simulates the effect of engine braking caused by releasing the throttle when shifting gears. it has so many fucking magic numbers from me just fiddling with it for like years trying to get the acceleration and shit to feel just right

^this ones mad complicated i commented every line

awesome gear shifting stuff its so fucking yummy because if u look closely in the video at the top u will notice i never use the brake to slow down. i downshift gears which causes causes the car to lose speed because the power it was giving out is less efficient now due to the lower gear ratio which also means the rpm jumps up to redline speeds which lets me instantly shift back up to retain some acceleration i cant tell u how satisfying it is to drive this thing and it feels like a real car

^and thats it thats the last function. 212 lines of code honestly pretty small tbh. theres still stuff missing like for example when a car is turning the rpm starts increasing at a slower rate due to things like centripetal force traction rolling resistance weight transfer weight load engine load steering angle friction but im probably just gonna end up calculating it only based on velocity * steering angle or something lol. if anyone made it this far i contratutle you i dont think anyone who isnt as obsessed as i am with this stuff could ever read this whole thing so thank u

[gingerbreadmonsters]

something strange

or: who you gonna call?

gn!reader, warnings for mild innuendo and discussion of death, halloween hijinks except it’s literally spring, oopsie. hello, operator? there’s something weird, and it - well, it’s not looking great… it’s time for yet another weirdo DAMN crew AU! cheers as always to agent of the google docs surveillance state @zozo-01 who keeps figuring out when i’m working on this at 4am, and to all the gang on discord who have tolerated the frankly disturbingly-morbid questions that it’s prompted. please keep all arms and legs inside the vehicle - don't worry, we'll reattach those for you at the end of the ride. dear having a dose of a freaky ghost (or five) in just over 13,600 words.

Every day's a school day, or so you're told.

For most people, that's more of a figurative thing. For you, you've been going to school basically non-stop since you were three years old or something, so it's pretty literal.

It's not necessarily a bad thing, you suppose. Teaching at DAMN is pretty good, the faculty and students are nice enough, and it pays… well, it pays. More than your last job, though that's not really saying much, and enough to afford the mortgage on this new house you've moved into.

It’s weird. You’d heard nothing but terrible things about the housing market in California lately, and Dahlia was no exception - it still isn’t, if you’re honest. Rent is extortionate, but even that barely matters when there’s hardly anything available in the first place.

You'd been so surprised when you'd seen it online. A proper, two-bedroom detached house, with a garden and a garage and everything, going for a lot less than the - admittedly-few - other houses nearby. How had nobody snapped it up already? Pleasantly surprised, you'd called the estate agent to see about putting in an offer, and you'd barely been able to get the words out before she'd set you up with an appointment the next day.

She'd been… cagey, is probably the best way to put it. Reluctant to tell you why it was so cheap. She couldn't stall forever, though - you remember the resigned, slightly apologetic look on her face as she took a deep breath, before plastering on a grin and telling you what was going on.

Now then, she'd said. I know it's unpleasant, but I'm required by law to disclose to you that, within the last three years, a number of previous tenants sadly passed away on the property.

You’d certainly been surprised, but she’d clearly just wanted to get this conversation over with, and just breezed on. As far as we understand, none of the tenants were affiliated with each other, and only two of the deaths were directly caused by an issue with the property - some minor faulty wiring, and one of the older sections of the roof was damaged during a storm and collapsed unexpectedly. It’s since been repaired, though, so no need to worry!

Somehow, the worst part about that sentence wasn’t the news that someone had been crushed to death in the house you were trying to buy, but was instead the cheery smile with which she delivered the news, like she thought you’d be delighted. Are all real estate agents in California like this?

How many, exactly? Were there any before that? you’d asked, and she hadn’t quite been able to hide her grimace. And how did they die? Should I be concerned about the local area?

Unfortunately for her, you’d been reading up on the sorts of laws that estate agents like her have to follow in California. No matter what, they have to tell you if anyone died in the house in the last three years - but if you ask for more information about it, or about any other deaths from before then, they’re legally required to tell you the truth about that as well.

Well, I don’t mean to alarm you… Nervously, she’d clicked away on her computer for a few minutes, before turning back to you. The four tenants before you all passed away on the property - not under suspicious circumstances, of course. Just… you know. These things happen.

Yes, you’d said flatly. Obviously.

Three out of the four were accidental - one was the result of a fall, one was the aforementioned issue with the roof, and I believe the other was due to an electrical fault. The fourth was the most recent - an altercation with an intruder during a break-in - but we’ve been assured by the local police department that this sort of thing is highly unusual for the area, and is very unlikely to happen again.

As she spoke, you’d felt a horrible feeling of resignation settle in your stomach. Of course the one place you can actually afford to buy is the one where tenants keep dying inexplicably.

How old were they, would you say?

Some more clicking, and if her expression had been anything to go by, a spreadsheet that was loading a lot slower than it should. It looks like… yeah, it looks like most were in their mid-twenties, or thereabouts.

Perfect. Of course they were. Were they living alone?

She’d clearly been dreading the question, gritted teeth forced into a smile. I believe so, yes. The implied like you will be hangs heavy in the air between you, and her eyes dart momentarily back to her screen before flicking back to yours.

Great. Everything about it had been great. A new city, a new job, living alone in a literal, actual death trap of a house. What could possibly go wrong?

Well then, you’d said, crossing your fingers behind your back. I have a good feeling about this.

For the first few weeks, things had been more or less normal - you’d been a little on edge, but nothing especially deadly had happened to you. No wardrobes falling on you, no rugs pulled out from underneath you, no invisible gas leaking into your lungs. In fact, it had been a perfectly ordinary house. If you were more suspicious, you might even say it was too ordinary. But that would be a silly thing to say, and you’re not, so you don’t.

Just a normal person, moving into a normal house. What could be simpler?

The start of term is a blur, and all too soon you’re so caught up in the semester that you barely have the energy to drag yourself upstairs to bed when you get home, let alone worry about anything else. Introducing yourself to your new coworkers, meeting your new classes, sorting through lesson plans and worksheets and your stupid fucking institutional login, being reset for the fifth time in as many days because apparently the IT department here is just as overworked and underpaid as anywhere else and if you have to go and beg them to reset your password again you’re going to-

Wait, it’s nearly the end of the semester already? What?

Finals season at DAMN is a particularly vicious mistress, it seems, and you've been going out of your mind trying to stay on top of all your work. One of the other Water Elemental professors went on maternity leave a month into the semester, so you've been forced to take over her class for the rest of the year - and you can safely say that you're never doing this again.

Twice as many lectures, twice as many emails, twice as much chasing students for late assignments. Right now, basically your whole day is taken up with running practicals, and your evenings are nothing but marking, marking, marking.

Yeah. That’s all that happens in the evenings. You don’t have time to think about anything else at all, nothing whatsoever, because there’s nothing else to think about.

You don’t think about the odd sounds from downstairs while you’re trying to sleep, muffled whispers of what could almost be conversation, echoing quietly in the hallway. You don’t think about the fact that you definitely turned the TV off before you left the house, and how it definitely wasn’t turned to the news when you did. You especially don’t think about how the plants in the garden never seem to need watering, or how the shelves never seem to get dusty, or how the curtains in the living room always seem to be open in the morning, even though you’re sure you closed them before you went to bed.

The doors that open and close on their own - well, it’s just a bit draughty, isn’t it? The strange chill in the air that seems to linger in certain places in the house, no matter how much you turn up the heating - well, all these old houses have their quirks, don’t they? That faint, blurry figure that you could have sworn you saw ducking past you in the mirror, disappearing so quickly that it can’t have really been there at all - and when you turn, there’s nothing behind you but air…

Condensation on the mirror before you’ve even had your shower, the sweet scent of a perfume you don’t wear. You’re going out of your mind.

You’ve started spending more time at work, waking up even earlier than before and going home even later. Organising lesson plans, sorting through papers, picking up extra invigilation, desperate to spend as long as you can at the university - anything, to get you out of that house. Practically the only thing you do at home now is sleep, and even that’s not for very long before you’re dashing out the door again in the morning. You’ll get breakfast on the way. Maybe if you’re not there as often, whatever it is will just… go away?

Only that doesn’t happen - if anything, it’s the complete opposite. The whole place feels strangely uneasy now, like the house itself is on edge, watching you. Something in the corner of your eye, the feeling of something breathing that surely shouldn’t be able to. Something tense and creeping in the air, stretching and stretching, ready to snap.

Fitful dreams, sleepless nights, keys jangling in your hand. Is it still paranoia if your house is really haunted?

It all comes to a head on - well, to be honest, you’re not so sure what day it is. Wednesday, maybe? Thursday? Whatever the case, you’ve been running on practically empty for longer than you should have been, and you’re really starting to feel it now.

Head pounding, you shut your eyes as you lean over the coffee maker. One for now, and one in your flask for later - oh, and you’ve run out of energy drinks in your office, so you’ll have to get a few out of the fridge to take with you.

Stressed at work, stressed at home, and barely sleeping in between. You’ve been forced to live on barely anything but coffee and energy drinks for almost a week now, just to keep yourself upright, and you think… um, you think it might be…

Fuck, your head is spinning. Just a minute, and you’ll be fine. It’s fine. Your laptop’s upstairs by your bed, so you’ve just got to grab that, and then you can be off to work. Just - just wait for the walls to stop moving, alright? You’ll only be a second…

The coffee’s slightly too hot as you gulp it down, and you hiss as it burns your tongue, scorching the inside of your mouth - something cold, you want something cold, make it stop it hurts it hurts - cracking, fizzing, oh, that’s nice, it’s cold, it’s cold - wait, what is it?

Oh, that’s bad. You look down at the half-empty can in your hand, lovely and cold from the fridge, condensation dripping slowly down the metal. Oops. That can’t be good for you.

Now that you’ve opened it, you might as well finish it. You won’t be able to carry an open can with you and it’ll go all weird if you just leave it out. What a waste!

Sip by sip, you gradually empty the can. Why does your stomach feel so weird? That’s not fun. Wasn’t there something you were supposed to remember…?

Laptop, you need to get your laptop. Upstairs. Right.

Well, if your heart explodes, your heart explodes. Giggling to yourself as you stumble past the front door and up the stairs, you imagine the look on that stupid estate agent’s face when she realises what’s happened - shit, they’ll have to put the price down even further, won’t they? That’ll be a hell of a hard sell. Yeah, they all died in mysterious accidents, all very strange and creepy, no idea how it happened - oh, except the last one. That one died of coffee disease when their blood turned into caffeine and their brain caught fire. Tragic.

It’s all fine. If you don’t laugh, you’ll cry. Smiling, you grab your laptop case from the bedside table, ignoring the way your heart hammers against your ribs like it’s trying to fight its way out of you. Don't even think about it.

Don't think about the way you’re tripping over your own feet as you narrowly miss bumping into the bed, clinging to the doorframe to keep yourself upright. Don't think about the rushing, racing headache that's building in your skull as you drag yourself back down the corridor, that restless pressure in your chest that won't stop growing as you fumble for the bannister. Don't think about the dizzy, blurry world that shudders around you, the strange lightness in your mind as something gives way, the floor that suddenly isn't there beneath you-

STOP!

the horrible sound of your body as it falters and falls, the terrifying space under your feet where the stairs should be

I don't know, they just - I just - oh, God…

the aftertaste of adrenaline flooding through your blood, bitter and strange

Don't just fucking stand there!

as your heart chokes on its own frantic rhythm

Get out of - here, I can do it-

and there's somebody there

What are you even going to do?

and the world goes black

Don't ask.

and everything

disappears.

You don’t wake up for a while.

Shit, your head hurts.

Slowly, you start to feel something on your face, something cold and hard that’s pressing uncomfortably against your cheek. What is that?

You reach up, and - oh. It’s the floor.

Still too lightheaded to sit up, you gradually come back to consciousness in fits and starts, lazy thoughts swimming through your heavy head. You’re lying in the corridor on your side, staring at the skirting board - which is looking a bit grubby, now that you really look at it - and your laptop case is on the floor by the bedroom door a few feet away. The zip is open, and you can see about half of the actual laptop peeking out.

Thankfully, it looks okay. You’re not sure you could deal with having to buy a new one right now, especially with all the work you’ve got to-

Panicked, you jolt upright, one hand coming up to clutch at your skull as it feels like it’s on fire. You’ve got work!

Wait, what’s the time - how late are you? God, you really couldn’t have picked a worse time to fall down the fucking stairs, could you? You’ll have to call the office and tell them what’s happened, that you’re so, so, sorry, that if they can just get someone to cover your second period lecture you should be in by then…

Hold on.

Confused, you look down. Yeah, that’s what you thought - you’re sitting on the floor, sprawled out in the hallway and facing the wall. There’s nothing around you except your laptop case, and your bedroom door is open.

This isn’t right. How are you looking at your upstairs bedroom door, when you’re sure you fell down the stairs?

And that’s only the first thing - now that you really look, of course you’re not downstairs. The stairs go right down by the front door, but there are no shoes on the ground or coats hanging on the wall. Your laptop case must have been open when you dropped it, but the laptop itself is still inside - surely it would have fallen out when it slid down the stairs, or at least be in much worse shape than it is now?

You’re so confused by the whole thing that it doesn’t even occur to you that, besides the throbbing ache in your head, you’re not actually in any pain. Your heart has slowed back down to normal so you don’t feel quite so sick, and you can’t even feel any bruises or soreness from where you must have hit the ground. It’s as if you’d just… decided to lie down.

It doesn’t really matter, though, because you don’t notice it. You slowly pick yourself back up and stagger into your bedroom, reaching for the glass of water that sits on your bedside table, and the telltale fizzle of healing magic that was left on your tongue disappears without a trace.

The rest of the day passes in a blur. The ladies at the front office are very kind when you call to let them know you might be a bit late, but you hadn’t been unconscious for as long as you thought. You only end up missing half of the first period, after all, and even your headache gradually disappears over the course of the day.

The idea of going to the hospital does occur to you - you did lose consciousness, after all - but you decide against it. You feel fine, and it was probably just your body telling you to cut back on the caffeine for a little while. The winning combination of coffee and a can of whatever-it-was probably wasn’t the best idea on an empty stomach.

Ironically, if you had a student who this happened to, you’d probably have dragged them halfway to A&E yourself by now. Funny how that works, isn’t it?

Unfortunately, you can’t pretend that everything’s normal once you’ve finally arrived - your department head comes in at lunchtime to find you ankle deep in a pile of second-year practical write-ups, and all but kicks you out of your office so you can go home early and recover. For my sake, if anything, she says with a grin, although you know she’s only half-joking. Think of my reputation - I can’t let my newest lecturer spend more time here than I do, can I?

It’s certainly very kind of her, probably more so than you deserve, and before you know it you’ve been unceremoniously booted out of the building and onto the quad. Looks like it’s hometime, then.

The bus is warm, but not too crowded, so you’re lucky enough to get a seat by the window. There are worse things to do than watch the world go by on your way back home, and the nice view makes the trip go faster - in no time at all, you’re getting off again.

It’s so bizarre, going home in the middle of the day. Normally it’s long been dark by the time you get back, and everything looks so different in the light that you almost walk straight past your street entirely. Has the house on the opposite side of the road always had those flowers in the front garden? Or has it just always been too dark for you to notice them?

Fishing your keys out of your pocket, you have a horrible feeling that you don’t really know anything about this place. What really happens here in Dahlia? How much of it have you actually seen, that isn’t the inside of a university building?

Unsettled, you unlock the door and step inside, shutting the door behind you with a sigh. Home at last. You’ll have to-

I swear, if you-

Wait, was that the door?

Hold on. What was that sound…?

You listen for a second, but you can’t hear anything unusual. Huh. Must have been nothing.

In any case, now that you’re home, you’re really starting to feel that tiredness creeping in. With a sigh of relief, you toe your shoes off and leave them by the door, before sliding your bag off your shoulder and dropping your keys into th-

There’s no way. It’s, like, lunchtime or something, right?

Okay, this is really starting to get weird now. You could have sworn you heard someone, muffled and ever-so-quiet underneath the noise of your keys falling into the bowl that you normally keep them in.

Is there someone else here? There can’t be, surely. You peer around the hallway, looking for any sign that someone might have broken in, but you don’t see anything weird - although it’s not like you really know what you’d be looking for. The door was locked when you came in, and you know that when you left for work, all the windows were shut and the back door was locked too.

Besides, everyone said this part of the city was pretty safe, didn’t they?

(Okay, so the last tenant did die horribly when someone broke in a few months ago, but something, something, never strikes twice or whatever.)

Your aura flickers as you try to reach out and see if you can feel something there, but there’s nothing at all. No sign of anyone, empowered or otherwise, and nothing out of the ordinary happening with the ambient magic in the house.

To tell the truth, you’d been surprised at how strong it was when you moved in. At least one of the previous tenants must have been magical, and really powerful - this house is full of magic left behind, traces of a forgotten aura, echoing softly in the walls and floors. It happens to most places where empowered people live or work, so it’s not like you’re not used to it, but even so… wow. It’s very strong.

Gingerly, you creep across the hallway and nudge the door to the living room just slightly open, before holding your breath and peeking inside.

And… there’s nothing there.

Just your boring, ordinary living room.

You check all the other rooms just to make sure, but they’re exactly the same. Nothing out of place, everything just as you’d left it. Nothing missing, nothing moved, nothing weird at all. There’s no trace of an intruder, and you’re starting to feel a bit silly, really. Surely you’re just imagining things, right?

Well, that or you’re hearing voices. God, all that caffeine really has fucked you up.

Perhaps a nap might be in order, now that you think about it. Yeah, a nap would be good. You’re getting tired just thinking about it - falling asleep, not having to worry about anything, relaxing after all the bizarre things that have been happening to you today. It sounds wonderful.

Quickly, you change into your pyjamas and get into bed, getting a glass of water from the kitchen before you go upstairs - you briefly consider having a shower beforehand, but you’re too sleepy to bother. Your bed is warm and soft and quiet, and that’s what matters right now.

Oh, it’s so nice. No more headache, no more confusion. The duvet is thick and comfy as you pull it around you, and just like that, you’re asleep almost immediately.

While you’re sleeping, do you dream?

I don’t get it. Why come back so soon?

Maybe it’s a timetabling thing? For finals? Like, an exam got cancelled so they didn’t have to stay? But it really could be anything - it’s always a miserable time for everyone, even the staff, so who even knows what it was…

Yeah, that’s true.

Do you think it’ll be back to normal tomorrow?

We’ll just have to wait and see. Hopefully we don’t get another scare like earlier.

Oh my God, that was fucking terrifying… I thought I was going to have a heart attack! Again!

Is that what happened? I thought it - oh, yeah, I guess it sort of counts. But it’s not like anyone can see us, anyway, so it shouldn’t really matter.

Well… But, like, it’s still kind of stressful though, don’t you think?

A bit, I guess. But you could probably say we’ve had worse.

Yeah. Yeah, that’s fair enough.

…No, you probably don’t.

When you wake up, it’s nighttime, weak moonlight sneaking through the gap in the curtains and falling across the floor. Mm, it’s so nice and warm under the covers. What’s the time? Everything feels weird.

Blearily, you reach for your phone - it’s about eight o’clock. Shit. Has it really been that long? You’d only meant to be asleep for a few hours, not the whole rest of the day…

Ah, whatever. You must have needed it. And anyway, you can’t really be bothered to try and think about work now - whatever you were going to do, you’ll just deal with it tomorrow. Maybe you’ll go downstairs and have a little something for dinner, and then relax a bit more before going to bed properly.

You rub your eyes with one hand as you push yourself up to sitting, swinging your legs over the side of the bed with a groan. Getting up is the worst. The glass of water on your bedside table is nice, though, and you gulp down about half of it while you get used to being upright again.

…Is it just you, or can you hear something coming from the next room?

Nope, nope, you’re not doing this again - it was nothing last time, and it’s probably nothing again. You’re just a little bit on edge. Perfectly understandable. You’re going to get up and go out of your room, and walk over to the stairs. Then you’re going to go down the stairs, and go to the kitchen to make some dinner, and absolutely nothing strange is going to happen while you do it.

With that in mind, you stand up and walk towards the door with a lot more confidence than you feel, although it’s slightly undermined when you have to backtrack a few steps in because you forgot to pick up your phone. But with that in hand, you pull the bedroom door open and step out into the corridor, safe in the knowledge that everything is exactly as it should be-

“Ah!”

It’s not. Oh, fuck, it’s really, really not.

There’s a shadow in the corridor - your breath freezes as you see it, a paralysing chill slicing down your spine. Floorboards creaking quietly, the faintest sound of breathing. Something moving, just inside the doorway to the guest bedroom down the hall.

There’s someone else in the house.

The door is slightly open, letting you see just a tiny bit inside the room, and you stare in shock as you catch a glimpse of a definitely-there, definitely-real hand suddenly reaching out to grasp at the doorframe. Whoever it belongs to, the angle makes it look like they’re leaning against the wall - the hand trembles slightly as it clutches at the wood, clumsy and frantic, nails scratching at the paint.

Terrified, you’re frozen to the floor as the hand slips down a fraction, and the arm it’s attached to knocks the side of the door. The hinges creak faintly as the door slowly swings open, only to reveal-

“Mmm…”

Wait, what?

Okay, you realise that you screwed up with the whole caffeine thing earlier. And you’ve been running yourself ragged for weeks. And you just woke up from a nap. So all in all, you’re probably not operating at full capacity right now. But even so, even with all that going on, you have to admit that you really weren’t expecting to see a couple very enthusiastically making out against the wall of your guest bedroom.

The two of them are utterly lost in each other and totally ignoring you - in fact, it doesn’t even look like they’ve noticed you standing here at all. If your brain could stop bluescreening, you’d almost be offended.

The - um, demon? Is that really a demon? You’ve only ever seen a few from afar, mostly on campus, but the distinctive flavour of magic that soaks into your aura even from here is a dead giveaway - the demon presses himself against the human-looking one as he kisses them, horns knocking softly against the wall above their head as he leans over them. The human clings to his shoulders in return, and you watch as a hand that you now recognise slides down the demon’s chest to tug impatiently at the hem of his shirt.

They’re also both very, very hot. Woah.

(Look, it’s been a while, okay? And anyway, it’s just an observation. An idle, ordinary observation. It’s not your fault that they look… fuck, they look really good. Like, really good.)

The human sighs softly as the demon nudges their head to the side with the tip of his tail, kissing avidly across their jaw and down their throat. Are those fangs? Does he have fangs? Because it certainly looks like it from here - the human’s eyelids flutter as he nips sweetly at their skin, only for their gaze to fall on-

“Mm - mmm!” The human splutters as they finally notice you, eyes going wide and hands clutching frantically at the demon’s back as they try to nudge him away. Is it fear or surprise? “It - baby, baby, there - there’s s-”

“Yeah - mhm, I-”

The demon shushes them breathlessly, chasing their lips with a quiet whine, one arm locking tight around their middle to keep them close as his other hand cups the back of their head, presumably to protect them from hitting their head against the wall. “They can’t see, deviant, ‘s okay-”

“You - mm, fuck! - Gav, they’re right - they’re right there!”

Somewhat belatedly, you realise that you’ve just been kind of standing there and staring at these two - with a start, you stumble backwards a step and drop your gaze to the floorboards in embarrassment. Should you be embarrassed? You’re a little bit embarrassed.

(It’s kind of rude to stare at people who are making out. Although, it’s also kind of rude to break into someone else’s house and start making out against the wall while the owner of the house is trying to sleep in the next room, so maybe you’re even.)

You scramble hastily for words, half-formed syllables spilling out of your mouth, but you have no idea what to say - what can you say in a situation like this? How do you - what do you - where do you even begin?

Luckily, the demon speaks up before you can make too much of a fool of yourself - you notice that he’s stepped slightly in front of the human, tail coiling around their calf in a way that you can only describe as deeply, deliberately possessive. Does he think you’re going to… to do what? Hurt them?

“I suppose we ought to explain…?”

He sounds a bit surprised, which is unexpected, considering that this is the weirdest break-in on Earth, and also that this isn’t his house. Aren’t you the one who should be surprised?

“I think they’re in the living room,” says the human in a total non-sequitur, gently extricating themselves from the demon’s tail and backing away towards the end of the corridor. “I’ll go and get them.”

“No - no, we’ll come down,” the demon calls back to them as they disappear downstairs. “I think our new friend might want to sit down for this.”

You don’t really have a chance to protest, utterly lost in shock - numbly, you follow the demon as he beckons you over, with a smile that looks easy, but you’re sure it’s taking a lot more effort than he’d like.

“My name’s Gavin,” he says conversationally, gesturing towards the stairs. “Nice to meet you.”

He motions again towards the stairs, but you’re too dazed to really get what he means - with a good-natured sigh, he takes a step in front of you and starts walking backwards down the stairs, one hand drifting just slightly above the bannister as the other keeps urging you forwards. “And you might be…?”

Oh - oh, that’s what he wants! You wouldn’t say that the jumble of syllables that falls out of your mouth is exactly your name, but it’s close enough, and he nods in acquiescence.

“Well, then. Pleasure to finally meet you.”

There’s a funny sort of smile in his voice when he says that, but you can’t quite put your finger on what it might be. And anyway, what does he mean by finally?

The demon - Gavin, what a strange name for a demon, you’ll have to remember that - he turns when he gets to the bottom of the stairs, and you see that the door to the living room is open now. You can hear a sort of whispered argument going on in there, between what sounds like two or three people, but you can’t see wh-

“Um, yeah - yeah, I’ll just go and get something from the - fuck! - sorry, sorry, I’m just - oh my God!”

Totally stunned, all you can do is watch as a man comes hurrying out of the living room towards you, talking at lightning speed over his shoulder and almost tripping over Gavin’s tail before the demon whips it out of the way just in time. He stumbles forwards as he tries to get his balance back, grabbing the end of the bannister to keep himself upright - you catch a glimpse of something silver around his neck, tucked into his shirt, before you’re suddenly face-to-face with a very large pair of glasses, and the very flustered-looking man who’s right behind them.

(Oh, for the love of - did anyone break into your house who isn’t ridiculously pretty? What sort of home invader beauty pageant did these people all come from?)

“Shit.”

Both of you stare at each other for a confused second, unblinking, before the strange man jerks backwards away from you, hands fluttering awkwardly in the air as he starts to ramble.

“I mean, um, sorry! Not to, like, call you - not you, obviously - that would be rude, and - and I’m not trying to be rude, it’s just, you know…”

“Smooth,” murmurs Gavin behind him, leaning against the wall and not even trying to hide his grin. “Now do one of those pick-up lines we practised.”

The man shuts his eyes like he’s trying to stave off a headache, taking what’s clearly a blood-pressure-lowering deep breath. “Please, please fuck off.”

Gavin shrugs, blowing him an unapologetic kiss and waving at you with the tip of his tail, before disappearing through the door to the living room with a cackle.

“Whatever you say, Lasky!”

“Oh, not again-!”

He turns to you, almost pleadingly, and he looks so comically weary that you’re not sure whether to laugh or cry. “It’s Lasko, not Lasky, he does this every time and I…”

“It’s - um, it’s alright,” you reply, and give him your nicest smile. “Nice to meet you, Lasko.”

He blinks owlishly at you for a second, like he’s not sure what to say, before smiling back at you. “Nice to… uh, nice to meet you too!”

Idly, you notice that his hand has come up to fiddle with the chain of his necklace, although the actual pendant is hidden under his shirt. It must be pretty sizeable, though, because you can just about see the shape of it through the material - a kind of sphere, or a round-ish chunk of some gemstone, maybe?

“I was just going to get some water for - well, for you, actually, just ‘cause Hux said he thought it might be nice? Like, obviously it’s a lot to get used to, and if you’re holding a drink then you don’t have to, um - you know, when you don’t know what to do with your hands? Or if you don’t know what to say, then you’ve got something to do, and anyway, it’s just kind of nice to… to, uh…”

Lasky - nope, Lasko, it’s Lasko - trails off, apparently only just noticing that he’s blocking the bottom of the stairs, and hurriedly sidesteps out of the way to let you past. “You can go in, by the way! I’ll just be a minute.”

Before you have a chance to say anything, he disappears off towards the kitchen, white ankle socks sliding slightly on the wooden floor, and all you can think is that you’ve never heard of a burglar who took off his shoes when he broke into the house.

Well, you might as well do what he says…?

Timidly, you creep up to the living room door and peer around the doorframe, dreading what you’ll find. These people all seem very nice, but what the hell are they doing here, anyway? Are they going to do something to you? How long have they been planning this? You couldn’t run, even if you tried - if they’ve got a demon on their side, you’d barely be able to get out the front door before they’d catch you again.

Being brave, you’ve got to be brave. Whatever they want, just give it to them, and maybe they’ll go away.

“Hey, uh… you okay?”

You jolt as another man pops into view, leaning into your field of vision from where he’s sitting on the sofa. He waves, and his smile is awfully sweet as he motions for you to come into the room.

“You can stay there if you want, but, like… it’s your house, right?” he laughs, not unkindly. “You can go wherever you like, dude, we won’t stop you.”

He sits back upright from where he was leaning over as you walk nervously into the room, and you notice that there’s another man sitting next to him on the sofa. It’s hard to tell, seeing as they’re sitting down, but this one looks slightly shorter than the first, flicking his dark hair out of his face and fiddling with the hem of his sleeve.

(Fucking hell, they’re literally all so beautiful. Do the cast of Vogue normally spend their free time breaking and entering, or are you just really lucky?)

“Damien,” the shorter man says, standing up and walking around the coffee table with one hand outstretched. “Pleasure to meet you.”

Well, he’s certainly cutting to the chase, isn’t he? Fair enough. You introduce yourself in turn as you shake his hand, but you can’t help but think there’s something… something odd about the feeling of his skin. He’s not cold, per se, but it’s something like that - a strange feeling that runs down your spine like ice water, like your mind can’t place it but your body instinctively knows that something isn’t quite right.

In any case, he sits back down and the man next to him lifts a hand in greeting, looking slightly embarrassed that Damien beat him to the punch.

“Ah, I’m Huxley,” he says, “but Hux is fine, if that’s better for you.”

Damien rolls his eyes with unmistakable fondness, which is a bizarre choice for a home invader. “You can just say which one you prefer, you know. It’s your name.”

“Well, yeah, but…”

Huxley shrugs, and you can tell they’ve had this conversation a thousand times. “I don’t really mind, you know? Like, whichever one you say, I still know what you mean, ‘cause it’s all still me. And anyway, if I changed my mind, I’d just say later.”

He grins, sharp and painfully handsome, and turns his head to look past Damien over to the loveseat, where you belatedly realise Gavin and his human, um, friend from before are sprawled out across the cushions.

“Besides, I feel like there’s worse culprits, y’know?”

Damien drops his head in his hands. “Don’t even get me started on Freelancer.”

Apparently-Freelancer lifts a lazy middle finger in his direction. “It gets the point across, doesn’t it?”

“There’s got to be more to a name than just gets the point across,” he moans. “Just because you happen to be a Freelancer doesn't mean that's all you are.”

They huff, turning their face away haughtily. “It’s a name if I say it's a name.”

“It's literally a nickname! You have a different name! That we know and also call you!”

Freelancer’s eyes narrow wickedly. “Want me to choose a different nickname?”

Gavin lifts his head interestedly from where he’s draped across their lap. “I might have some suggestions-”

“No!” shrieks Damien, and the temperature in the room unexpectedly spikes as he flops backwards against the sofa cushions, decidedly not looking over at the loveseat. “God, no, we already hear enough of those when you’re-”

“Jesus,” Lasko mutters as he comes in through the door behind you, silently passing you a glass of water and motioning for you to sit down in the one empty armchair that's opposite the sofa. “Sorry about them. It happens a lot.”

You nod noncommittally as you sit down, watching it all with a sort of vague detachment as he goes to perch on the arm of the sofa next to Huxley. The three of them are facing you across the coffee table, with Gavin and Freelancer occupying the loveseat on the right, and something about the way they’re all looking at you is strangely… interrogative? Like you’re here for the world’s weirdest job interview or something - like they’re trying to get the measure of you.

It’s quite awkward, to be honest. You take a sip of your water, feeling oddly grateful for Lasko’s foresight about not having to wonder what to do with your hands.

“Okay, look.”

Damien breaks the ice, leaning forward slightly as he looks seriously at you. “This is going to sound kind of - kind of unusual. And we get that. But it’s true, and you deserve to know, so we’ll just… we’ll just say it, I guess.”

He takes a deep breath. Huxley quietly holds out his hand, palm up, and Damien takes it.

“When you bought this place, they told you about the previous owners, right?”

You nod, remembering that uncomfortable meeting with the estate agent. “Yeah.”

“Well, you’re, um…” Damien’s gaze slides to the side, uncomfortable, before returning to you. “You’re looking at them, I’m afraid.”

Sorry, you’re what?

He gives you a second to process that, not that a second is nearly enough, and carries on. “All of us owned this house before you. Whenever they said anything about previous occupants, or ex-tenants, or whatever bullshit word they used - they were talking about us.”

“You’re joking,” you manage to force out, incredulous. “But you - she said you - she said-”

“That we died?” says Gavin, with a grim smile. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”

“No. No, no - that’s impossible!”

Your mind reels in confusion at this utterly bizarre story, trying to make sense of it all. So what - so they’re all dead, then? Like, ghosts or something? That can’t be right - the closest thing you’ve ever heard of to that were Shades, and they definitely aren’t Shades.

There’s no magic in the world that can reanimate the dead. For as long as humans have had magic, they’ve tried and tried, but it just doesn’t work. So what the hell are these people playing at?

(And anyway, didn’t the woman at the estate agency say there were four ex-tenants? How can there suddenly be five of them?)

You shake your head in disbelief. “You’re joking. This has to be a joke.”

“I said the same thing,” Lasko says mournfully, looking down at the floor. “If it is a joke, it looks like it’s on us.”

“You’re magical, right?”

Freelancer’s voice is quiet, but something about it is strangely urgent. “You can feel other people’s auras, can’t you?”

“Yes…?” you reply, unsure of what they’re getting at. “What about it?”

“We are, too,” they say, and a flame dances to life in their palm. “So shouldn’t you be able to feel us?”

Reflexively, your aura ripples around you as you search for what you know must be right in front of you - they’re doing magic right now, so surely you’ll be able to feel something…?

Nothing. Not them, not anyone else. It’s as if nobody’s there at all - only that insistent thrum of magic that flows through the bones of this house, that you remember thinking was unusually strong. Those noises you couldn’t explain, things in strange places that shouldn’t have been able to move. You’ve never had to water the plants once.

Was this what that feeling was all along? Were they what you were feeling?

You don’t know what to say. This shouldn’t be possible.

“I don’t get it,” you mumble, feeling awfully small and scared. “I don’t - I don’t understand.”

“Then we’ll explain it a different way,” says Huxley, with so much patience that you could almost cry. “Is that cool with you?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” He starts to stand up like he’s going to come over to you, but there’s not really any room on the chair next to you, so he just sort of awkwardly sits back down again. “Okay, we’ll start from the beginning. Lasko?”

Lasko waves, an awkward little half-gesture. “Hi.”

You take another sip of your water - it’s slightly lukewarm now, but it’s still comforting.

“I was - well, I was first,” he says, trembling fingers tugging at his necklace chain again. “I used to work at DAMN, like you, and I ended up renting this place - I remember thinking it was unusually cheap, but I needed somewhere to live, right?”

He laughs, slightly shakily. “I guess it must have been a problem with the electrics, or something, ‘cause I’m sure it wasn’t me. But I was in the, um - I was in the bath, and I remember the lights flickering like there was a storm, or something? It felt odd, like something in the air, and there must have been a power surge…”

A horrible feeling blossoms in the pit of your stomach when you realise what he’s saying - he must see it on your face, shrugging sheepishly. “I don’t really know how it actually happened…? I mean, I think it was a heart attack, or it stopped my heart or something like that, but I - I guess I normally just say I got electrocuted. It’s - uh, I mean, I don’t have to explain it a lot, but it’s easier than saying the whole thing, I think.”

Dimly, you recall the estate agent’s voice in your head. An electrical fault.

“Afterwards, the rental company didn’t want the place anymore,” Lasko says, surprisingly cheerily. “You can’t really blame them, though.”

“I think you can,” grumbles Freelancer. “They did kill you.”

Lasko shrugs. “How were they supposed to know?”

“They sold you a house that zapped you to death!”

“They rented me a house that zapped me to death,” Lasko fires back, waving a hand in Freelancer’s direction as they stick their tongue out at him. “It’s probably different.”

Damien rolls his eyes - you’re getting the distinct impression he does that a lot - and elbows Huxley lightly in the side. “For the love of God, please distract them.”

“Alright, alright,” he laughs, and turns to you. “I used to be a student at DAMN, and I needed somewhere to live after the semester ended, right? Like, my lease was up, and I didn't really know what I was gonna do - you know what it's like.”

“You were at DAMN?” you ask, surprised. “What were you studying?”

“Oh, uh, Earth Elemental Studies,” Huxley replies, with a melancholy smile. “I had a teaching gig lined up for after graduation, but… you know.”

He gestures down at himself and shrugs. Lasko looks away.

“I ended up renting this place after Lasko had his, uh, accident - they said everything had been fixed, but I guess they didn't get it all…? The weather in Dahlia isn't normally so bad, so I must've just been unlucky with the storm. You know how the ceiling in the kitchen is a different colour to the walls? Like it's been repaired recently?”

Oh, you have a bad feeling about this. “Yeah.”

He grimaces. “It, uh… well, it wasn't like that before I moved in.”

Fucking hell. When she said there has been an issue with the roof she’d been putting it mildly.

Huxley must see your horrified expression, quickly cutting back in. “Don’t worry about it, dude - it didn't hurt that bad, not for long. It was pretty quick, when you think about it.”

“I mean, most people don't like thinking about it at all,” Damien murmurs under his breath. “We’re not exactly in the majority here.”

Huxley tips his head to the side in acquiescence. “It was a while ago. Gotta get over this kind of shit eventually.”

Gavin’s jaw drops. “You're over it?”

“Well, no…” he replies. “But it'll probably happen at some point, yeah?”

Freelancer, half-buried underneath their human-blanket (demon-blanket?) over on the loveseat, blinks in apparent wonder. “Hux, you're my hero.”

Huxley grins. “Don't let Gav hear you saying that.”

“Oh, he's not listening,” they scoff, tipping Gavin’s face up to kiss the tip of his nose. “Are you, darling?”

Gavin shakes his head, eyes closed and wearing a wide, lazy smile. “Didn't hear a thing.”

Damien sighs fondly at their antics, gaze all soft and sticky, before turning back to you. “In any case, I was the next one. Moved in a few weeks after the storm, when they said everything was fixed. When they were telling you about us, did anyone mention a fall?”

You’d been kind of preoccupied by the more unusual deaths, so you don't really remember if the lady did or not, but it sounds about right. “I think so…?”

“Then there's not much more to say.”

He shifts slightly in his seat. “I was rushing, and I slipped - it's my own fault, really. I’d overslept and I thought I was going to be late for a lecture, so I wasn't really looking where I was going. You know how slippery the stairs can get.”

You wince. “They’re pretty bad, yeah.”

“You'd have thought they'd at least put some carpet down or something after I died, but apparently not,” Damien grumbles. “First they had to dig Hux out from under whatever cheap roofing shit they had before, then five minutes later we were all watching some poor contractor scrubbing my goddamned blood out of the floorboards, because it would have been too fucking expensive to replace it all - do they just like having to scrape their tenants off the floor, or something? Because that's what would have happened to you earlier if we hadn't done anything, for fuck’s sake…”

He looks up sharply when he says that, like he's just remembered something. “Oh, um - yeah, that was us. Sorry about that. But also, like, the espresso-Monster thing you drank probably wasn’t the best breakfast.”

This morning. All those things that didn't add up. Falling down the stairs, and landing at the top of them. That was them?

“How did it…” You're not quite sure how to put it. “How did you do it?”

“Oh, you can thank Lasko for that,” he replies. “He managed to slow you down enough that Gavin was able to heal you without anything being too serious.”

You look over at Lasko, nervously waving his hands in front of his face like it’ll ward off any sort of thanks. “It was just luck, that's all! I just, you know - I was in the right place at the right time, and I - well, the whole air thing is kind of easy for me, so it wasn't even that complicated or anything - I mean, not that it wasn't important, obviously, but-”

“Lasko.”

“Yes?”

You smile. “Thank you.”

Nervously, he smiles back, with an charmingly-awkward little thumbs up. “Not, uh, no problem.”

“If you’re trying to join us, you’ll have to try harder than that,” Damien quips, blackly. “Dying like that isn't fun, believe me.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” you say. “Next time, I’ll just let the caffeine poison me all by itself.”

He nods approvingly, the hint of a held-back smile brightening his handsome face. “See, now you’re getting it.”

Idly, you lift the glass to your mouth, only to realise that - wait, it’s empty? No, it can’t be. When did you drink all of that? How bizarre. Hearing about people dying must be thirsty work. Quietly, you put it down on the coffee table in front of you.

“Freelancer.”

“Mm?” Freelancer looks up, distracted from whatever sweet nothings Gavin seems to be mumbling into their neck. “What?”

Damien tips his head slightly in your direction. “You’re up to bat, I’m afraid.”

“Already? That was quick.” With a little bit of fidgeting, they push themselves up to sit facing you, one hand holding Gavin’s, and the other around his back as he sits sideways with his legs across their lap.

“So, it’s… it’s not the nicest thing,” they say, eyes darting away before sliding back to meet yours. “And it probably isn’t going to make a huge amount of sense, just ‘cause when the - actually, that reminds me - did they say something about a break-in? And - and a trespasser?”

The most recent. Altercation with an intruder. Highly unusual. Shouldn’t happen again.

You look down. “They did, yeah.”

“Well, it’s mostly true,” Freelancer says, “although it’s not the full thing. The unempowered police had to come and investigate, and that was the best they could come up with, so that’s what the estate agent will have told you.”

“Was it magical, then?” you ask, slightly hesitantly.

“Yeah. Yeah, it was,” they reply hesitantly. “I’d only just moved here to come to DAMN. I was humanborn, so I didn’t really know a whole lot about magic, but I had a - well, there was an… uh…”

Nervously, they look at Gavin - he shakes his head almost imperceptibly, and they swallow.

“I heard about DAMN from a friend, so I thought it would be good to come and try and learn some, like, actual magic, right? And Gavin and I met here, just after I moved - it’s kind of a long story, but he ended up basically moving in here as well after a while. So that’s why we - well, that’s how we’re, uh, here. Together.”

Their leg bounces as they tap their heel against the floor, over and over. You’re not getting the feeling that this story is going to end well.

“There was a… a problem,” they mumble, after a little pause. “A friend of ours was being chased by a demon - a different demon, a really strong one, who we didn’t know. He was hurt, so he came here for help - but the demon chasing him followed him here.”

Attacked? By a demon? God, what sort of city is this? If this is the sort of thing that’s happening here, maybe it’s not such a bad thing that you don’t go out much.

Freelancer continues, gaze now fixed firmly on their feet. “He attacked us - and our friend. There was no time to do anything, so we - we did what we could, but…”

Gavin’s tail wraps and unwraps around Freelancer’s wrist, winding around their arm first one way, then the other.

“This demon, he was… powerful,” he says, carefully. “He was old - much older than me, and it wasn’t exactly like we could have seen him coming. We were lucky to do as much as we did.”

Silently, Lasko picks up your glass from the coffee table, and walks out of the living room.

“Our friend got away, at least,” Freelancer says, through what you think is meant to be a smile. “And we did sort-of win - Gavin managed to knock him out, and took him to the Department. He’s probably in a prison somewhere, now.”

So… they won? But then how are they…?

Freelancer must see the question written across your face. “By the time Gavin got him, I’d already, um… you know. The old coffee table in here was pretty heavy, and when it hit me, it was kind of, uh - yeah. It wasn’t great.”

The thought of it turns your blood to ice. They died in here? This room? The same room you’re in right now, where they’re sitting on the loveseat like it’s nothing - this room? How can they even stand to be in here like this, after everything that’s happened?

“I’m - I’m sorry,” you manage to say, painfully aware of how hollow it must sound. “That must have been awful.”

Strangely enough, they shake their head. “Gavin got the worst of it. The rift, when he came back…”

They trail off into silence, and Gavin doesn’t say anything either. Frozen in place, unmoving - like this, they could almost be stone. Alive and undead. Sobbing but never crying, rainwater dripping down the marble.

“When we died, we became… this.”

You look over at Huxley, speaking softly. “We can’t be seen by living people, and we can’t leave this place. Touching objects - like, physical stuff like doors and books and water - it takes more effort, but it’s still okay. We can still do most magic, too, but it’s not as easy as it used to be.”

You nod, slightly confused. Why is he telling you this now…?

“It happens pretty quickly,” he adds, “the whole transformation, resurrection, whatever. But it… well. Yeah.”

“It doesn’t take much to kill a human.”

Gavin’s voice is raw and venomous, glaring at the floor, fangs bared in a bitter snarl.

“Demons last a little bit longer.”

In your mind’s eye, the horrifying scene unfolds. A human body, shattered and bloody, lifted gently from the wreckage and cradled in the fading arms of a dying demon. Gavin, tears streaming down his crumbling face, clutching the corpse of his human lover - no magic left, an immortal being surrendering to an impossible death. Freelancer, imprisoned in the silent space between sleeping and waking, screaming in terror yet doomed to go unheard. Forced to watch as Gavin’s form falters and dissolves, scattered back into the nothingness of stardust.

Of course. Five deaths, four tenants. No body left to bury.

There’s nothing you can say to that. Nothing at all.

Behind you, Lasko comes back in from the kitchen, passing you a refilled glass of water before walking back over to the sofa. It’s freezing cold in your hand, and you can’t help but shiver involuntarily.

“Ow!”

Startled, all of your heads snap towards Lasko - he’s tripped over the stack of papers that you were marking last night, catching himself on the side of the loveseat and accidentally smacking face-first into Gavin’s shoulder. Freelancer jerks backwards out of the way as he hisses in surprise, jolting forwards with the unexpected weight against his back, and Damien bursts into laughter as Lasko stutters his way through a flustered apology, wrenching himself back upright and scurrying off to the sofa to hide behind Huxley.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m sorry! I didn’t see it - I just tripped, and oh, I didn’t mean to hit you - are you okay? Like, I didn’t hurt you, did I? God, I don’t know how I forgot it was there - and your back, are you-”

“If you want to get your hands on me, you can just ask,” Gavin purrs over the top of him, rubbing his shoulder blade where Lasko’s face presumably impacted with the flat spade of his tail. “And yes, I’m fine, thank you. Unless you wanted to kiss it better?”

Lasko’s breath visibly stops, the poor thing, as Gavin fixes him with a smirk so ridiculously charming that you almost can’t tear your eyes away. Fuck, he’s so beautiful, wicked gaze dragging slowly down the length of Lasko’s body, painted claws catching the light as they just barely start to flirt with the hem of Freelancer’s shirt…

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Huxley trying not to laugh as Lasko peeks out from over his shoulder. “Keep it together there, Gav. We’ve got an audience, y’know.”

Lasko buries his face in his hands. “Please, God, don’t-”

“Oh, Hux,” Gavin sighs plaintively, although the impish smile across his face gives him away. “Why do you think I offered?”

A quiet rustle of fabric, and underneath him, Freelancer lets out a long, slow breath that you hadn’t noticed they were holding. You, um… you can’t see the end of Gavin’s tail any more, and you’re not entirely sure if you want to know where it is.

“I’m so sorry,” Damien groans, flinging a stray sofa cushion at Gavin’s head as he gives you an apologetic look, ignoring the confused squawking from the loveseat when it accidentally hits Freelancer in the shoulder and ricochets into Gavin’s face. “You’re all dead to me.”

Huxley pats him on the shoulder. “We’re dead to everyone, babe.”

“Not helping.”

“Love you too.”

“That was so rude!” comes a gasp from your right. Amused, you look over to find an outraged Gavin, holding up the projectile cushion in one clawed hand, eyes narrowed sulkily at Damien for ruining the fun. “Don’t you think, deviant?”

Freelancer nods sagely. “Very rude.”

“He didn’t even let us finish! We could have been doing something entirely innocent.”

“We’re so nice to him, and he’s always so mean to us.”

“Spoiling our fun.”

“Getting in our way.”

“Getting in our bed-”

“Will you two stop it!” Damien hisses, pointing an accusing finger at Gavin when the demon actually hisses back at him. “I wouldn’t have to be rude if you two would stop being so - so… lascivious!”

Freelancer grins, eyes scrunched up into happy little half-moons and arms wrapped possessively around Gavin’s waist. “He thinks we’re lascivious.”

“What about tea?” interrupts Lasko, standing up suddenly and motioning behind his back for you to follow him. “We’ll have tea, that’ll be nice, does anyone want some? Good, okay, we’ll just go and make the - the, um - we’ll just go, won’t be long, back in a minute-”

You’re not sure if ghosts can get high blood pressure, but you say a silent prayer for whatever nightmare must be going on in Damien’s undead arteries. Huxley jokingly salutes the pair of you as you scramble after Lasko - shaky hands all but push you out of the door, and he pulls it swiftly shut behind him with a decisive psychokinetic flourish, muffling the enthusiastic bickering inside.

It's finally quiet again.

Just you and Lasko.

“Is it always like this?”

He closes his eyes and leans his head back against the door, laughing weakly. “Basically, yeah.”

Well. Considering everything that could have gone wrong with finding out that your house is haunted and practically infested with the undead, at least the ghosts that you've got are fun ghosts.

“Kind of you to volunteer my tea for everyone,” you say breezily, motioning for Lasko to follow you into the kitchen and stifling your smile when his face turns to almost comical panic. “It’s fine, it’s fine. I don’t mind.”

“Are - are you sure?” He wrings his hands as he trails after you, teeth digging into his bottom lip in a way that really shouldn’t be as endearing as it is. “Sorry, I just - we’d be there all day otherwise, and I just wanted to distract them for a bit, but I didn’t really think about it, you know, and…”

He takes a slow, deep breath, shaking his head slightly as if to clear it. “I mean, uh, thank you.”

The kettle’s empty, so you go to fill it up at the sink while Lasko silently gets some mugs out of the cupboard, along with a handful of teaspoons and some teabags.

Too silently, in fact.

“Tea’s in the right hand drawer, by the way.”

Lasko freezes guiltily as you say it, wrist deep in the box of Earl Grey. “You know. Because I didn’t tell you, so there’s no way you could have known.”

He winces. “Sorry…”

“I mean, it’s not the worst thing you could be looking at.” You’re not actually that angry, all things considered, but it needs to be said. “Do I need a ghost-proof shower curtain, too?”

“What? No - God, no!” he stammers, seemingly horrified by the implication. “I swear none of us would do anything like that - we would never! We have never! No, that’d be - no!”

He shakes his head emphatically, nearly knocking his glasses off in the process. “We don’t go into the bathroom when you’re there, and your bedroom is always off-limits. Promise. You can ask the others.”

“I should hope so.” Next to you, the kettle starts to steam, although it’s not quite hot enough yet. “Am I - wait, you were the first one, right?”

He nods, quietly shuffling through the tea drawer again. “Yeah.”

“Could the others see you… before? Like me?” you ask, walking over to the fridge. “Milk?”

“If that’s okay.”

Without looking, you reach in and grab the carton, before putting it down on the counter next to him. “I just don’t understand. How come I can see you now, but I couldn’t before?”

“That’s what we were talking about before you came in,” he replies. “Hux thinks it’s something to do with this morning - like, that you had some sort of near-death experience? And then that means you can see us, because we’re dead and you were nearly-dead…? I don’t know, it’s a work in progress.”

Wait, so does that mean you actually did poison yourself this morning? Or is he talking about falling down the stairs? Of course you’d accidentally manage to find a way to nearly kick the bucket twice in a single day. What a liability they all must think you are…

“The others couldn’t see like you do,” Lasko continues, oblivious to your spiralling. “Not until they were already gone. You’re the first one who’s been able to see us while you were still - actually, um, that reminds me…”

The kettle clicks, having boiled. He reaches over to get it, but you wave him away, picking it up and moving to fill up the collection of mugs - and, oddly, an entire teapot that you’re sure you’ve never seen before - he’s arranged on the countertop.

“If you wanted to leave now that you’ve heard all of - uh, all of this… well, we wouldn’t be upset. We’re not gonna, like, make you stay here or anything.”

Confused, you frown down at the mug in front of you. “What do you mean?”

“You know, ah…” Out of the corner of your eye, you can see him fiddling with his necklace again. “We’re not the luckiest people in the world. None of us lasted very long in this house - and the whole ‘being undead’ thing isn’t really something we understand. Like, why us? What did we ever do? Is it the house? Is it us? Is it, like, destiny or fate or something - because it kind of brings up a whole new set of problems about the existence of life after death - and, you know, are we the only ghosts in the world, and if so then why, or are there others? Does this happen to everyone, and living people just can’t see them? We wouldn’t blame you for wanting to get out before, you know…”

You put the kettle back on the stand. It doesn’t look like he’s going to stop for breath any time soon.

“Not that we’re going to like, do something to you! No, no, that’s - I didn’t mean we were going to kill you or anything - oh, fuck, now it just sounds like we were going to do something and now I’ve put the fucking idea in your head, and now you’re going to be all stressed about it, and, like, ‘is it cursed?’ - and it’s not cursed, I think, but we don’t know for sure because even though curses aren’t a thing like unempowered people say, none of us have been able to figure out if there’s any, uh - any magic that might be like a curse, right?

“Lasko.”

“Just, you know, magic is so unpredictable and there’s so much we don’t know, so maybe it is cursed but we just can’t recognise it because we don’t know what we’re even looking for, and Gavin’s been trying to come up with ideas, but it’s been really difficult ‘cause we didn’t want to use your computer or anything, that’s a huge breach of privacy, right? And - and we can’t leave the house to go and talk to anyone - well, really it’s the property, so we can still go out in the garden and stuff - which reminds me, I was meant to tell you about-”

“Lasko!”

You can practically see the words falling out of his mouth before he cuts himself off, the poor thing. “Mm-hmm?”

“The tea,” you say calmly, stepping back from the counter to give him room. “I don’t know how they like it.”

“Oh, right! Yeah, I’ll, um - I can do that.”

He starts sorting out the different mugs, taking teabags out of some sooner than others, adding milk and sugar and what-have-you, leaving one to the side for you and nervously chattering away.

“I’ll never understand how Gavin and Hux have it so sweet - although, I think Gavin’s like that with everything, you know? He says it’s just because he likes the taste, but Damien told me - um, you shouldn’t say I said this, but he thinks when Gavin gave himself a human form - ‘cause demons don’t have physical bodies normally, right? Well, Damien thinks he accidentally got his body addicted to sugar or something like that, because - oh, I don't know, something, something, pleasure centres or pleasure receptors, whatever - it probably lit up a similar part of his brain to the bit that he associated with eating, and being full - wait, did he say he was an incubus? Because he is, he definitely is - oh, we probably should have mentioned that…”

Slowly, Lasko’s voice settles into the back of your mind as you make your tea, head too full of everything else he’s said to really be listening. It’s not on purpose. You’ve just got a lot to think about.

Yes, he makes a good point about the house, and the strange coincidences that have happened here. Yes, he makes a good point about what might happen to you if you choose to stay. Yes, he makes a good point about how you’ll have to actually accept the undeniable proof of the existence of life after death, and everything that means for your worldview.

Looking up, your eyes are drawn to the faint line where the ceiling and the wall meet, and the two shades of paint that don’t quite match.

Wow. In about an hour, this is going to be a magnificent existential crisis.

But those aren’t problems for now, are they? If you try and deal with all of this at once, you’re fairly sure your head is going to explode just thinking about it. All of this, all of the fucked-up undead weirdness that’s just fallen into your lap out of thin air - all of it can wait.

First, tea.

Lasko seems to have sorted out all the different cups of tea, stirring a final spoonful of sugar into the one second from the right with one hand. Luckily, he’s picked cups that are all different colours, so hopefully it shouldn’t be too hard to stop them getting mixed up.

“That one’s for Hux, then Damien’s is the jasmine, then the middle one is for Freelancer. Gavin’s is the penguin one, and then this one is for me.”

He points at them from left to right, explaining whose they are as you get a tray out of the cupboard and put it down on the counter. You’re just about to start transferring everything onto it when - oh, that’s what’s missing!

Lasko takes over, looking confused as you suddenly turn on your heel and start rifling through the cupboard by the microwave. “Are you… okay?”

“Just a second…” Where are they? You could have sworn they were just… ah, there they are. You’ll have to get some more at the supermarket when you go next. “Do you think they’ll want plates?”

Lasko’s face brightens when he sees what you’re holding, and it belatedly occurs to you that he probably hasn’t eaten much since - well, since everything. If the owner of the house can’t see you, then they’re not going to give you anything, and if you can’t leave the house, you can’t buy anything yourself. If he’s a demon, then maybe Gavin could magic something up, but didn’t Huxley say that doing magic was harder for all of them then it used to be? What’s the limit?

Besides, even if ghosts probably don’t need to eat, that doesn’t mean that they can’t, right? It might not be necessary, but it might still be nice.

“Mm, probably not,” Lasko muses, but he gets a few out of the cupboard anyway as you open the packet of biscuits and put it down on the tray next to Freelancer’s tea. “I don’t think they’ll, uh, last that long.”

He moves the penguin mug slightly to make room for the teapot and an empty cup - oh, that must be the jasmine tea he was talking about. But where did he…?

“Damien used to have one like this.”

Lasko’s voice is quiet, presumably having noticed you staring in confusion at the tray. “It got taken away with all his things when Freelancer moved in, but Gavin made him a new one. The cup, too. It’s not exactly the same, but it’s close enough.”

He looks away, eyes closed. There’s not really anything you can say to that.

“If there’s…”

As you speak, you can hear the faintest sound of laughter from the other room. Presumably they’ve kissed and made up, in what you get the feeling isn’t always an entirely metaphorical sense. “If there’s anything I can get you, then you just need to ask. Anything.”

Lasko smiles down at the tray, and you don’t look at how his eyes are a little bit shinier than they were a minute ago. “Thanks.”

“Come on, then,” you say with a smile, nudging him out of the way and picking up the tray. “It’ll be stone cold in a minute, if we’re not careful.”

Lasko protests, fluttering around beside you as you head back towards the living room, insisting that he doesn’t want to be rude, please please please let him carry it, it was his idea and now you’re doing all the work, oh he’s so sorry - but you don’t let him. It’s a bit heavy, but it’s not that bad, and didn’t one of them say that it’s harder to interact with physical objects now than it was when they were alive? You don’t know exactly how much harder, but you’d feel kind of bad if you made Lasko hold all the stuff when it’s not as easy for him.

Darting ahead of you down the corridor, he opens the living room door for you, and you - well, you were going to put it down on the coffee table in the middle, but it’s not actually there anymore. Instead, it’s been pushed out of the way towards the window, to make space for the sofa to be tilted a little bit more towards the TV.

Lasko, the bastard, takes advantage of your momentary surprise. You’re going to have to ask if he’s an Air Elemental or something, because you feel a suspiciously-timed air current rushing past your arm and almost pushing the tray towards him, letting him lift it deftly out of your hands and carry it over.

Freelancer and Gavin, chastised but utterly unrepentant, appear to have commandeered most of the sofa, along with its previous occupants. Huxley idly strokes his fingers over Gavin’s horns as Freelancer flips through channels on the TV, while Damien, sitting cross-legged on the rug against the front of the sofa, pats the ground next to him when Lasko bends down to put his teapot and cup in front of him.

“Join me. I’ve been exiled.”

“We’ll call the Pope,” Lasko replies thoughtfully, “he might be able to get you excommunicated as well. Two for one.”

Damien raises an eyebrow, just barely failing to resist the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “See, now you’re talking.”

Lasko laughs, standing back up and offering the tray to the others on the sofa. “Clever of you to move the table out of the way,” he notes dryly, as Freelancer goes to take their tea from the tray and recoils at the heat of the ceramic. “Do you want me to leave it over there until it cools down?”

Huxley nods gratefully, taking a biscuit from the packet and batting away Gavin’s tail without even looking when the incubus tries to surreptitiously steal it out of his hand. “Aw, would you? Thanks, dude.”

Now that he says it, that might actually be a good idea - you reach over to get a biscuit for yourself as well, before going round to perch on the arm of the sofa next to Freelancer while Lasko puts the tray down on the coffee table. They seem to have found a programme they like, some cooking competition show you’ve never seen, and pass the remote down to Damien with a satisfied hum so he can put it on the floor next to him.

“Is this a new series?” he asks quietly, head resting against the side of their leg. “I thought you already watched all of them.”

Freelancer shrugs, absentmindedly twirling Gavin’s tail between their fingers as he readjusts his legs across their lap. “We did, yeah. But this one is a good one.”

The rest of the evening passes in something of a blur - warm tea and good company and some truly ridiculous commentary on the TV that has you laughing harder than you think you have in weeks, maybe even months. After the first programme finishes and the next one is starting, Damien seems to remember that you’d never actually had that dinner you were going to make, and drags you into the kitchen to get you something a bit more substantial than a biscuit.

Gavin trails after you, too, sitting himself on the countertop next to the fridge and watching you two cook. It doesn’t seem malicious or mean - rather, his eyes follow you curiously around the room in a way that distinctly reminds you of an intrigued housecat. He seems to have magicked up a lollipop or something to amuse himself with as well, idly moving the stick back and forth in his mouth as the hard sugar clicks against his teeth.

The feline comparison apparently occurs to Damien as well, who, for some reason, quickly moves everything within about a metre of the fridge on the counter out of easy reach. At first you’re surprised, but then you see Gavin’s tail droop in mock-disappointment, hanging limply down in front of the cabinets, and you realise what’s going on.

“Don’t mind him,” he stage-whispers to you as you wait for the stove to heat up. “He’s not so bad. Freelancer just spoils him something rotten.”

Gavin sniffs haughtily, clawed fingers pulling the - apparently heart-shaped - lolly out of his mouth and sticking his red-stained tongue out at Damien. “I am very cute and sexy and worthy of spoiling.”

“What you are is in the way, genius,” Damien replies, deadpan, pointing at the cutlery drawer that Gavin’s legs are currently blocking. “Fork, please.”

You can practically see Gavin vibrating as he tries to hold back the obvious joke, in favour of reaching down and taking a metal fork from the drawer, holding it out in one hand.

“Ah, ah-”

He snatches it back when Damien reaches for it, holding out the lollipop in his other hand instead. “I got you a present.”

Damien eyes it with interest, shiny and red, and you’re not sure if you should still be watching. “What flavour?”

“Cherry.”

Damien thinks about it for a second, before opening his mouth and letting Gavin put the lolly on his tongue. “Mmm. Thanks.”

Gavin smirks lazily, and hands him the fork. “Mwah.”

Neither of them seem embarrassed afterwards, like it was something you weren’t supposed to see, or like they’d forgotten you were there. It’s… kind of pleasant, in an unexpected way. Being around people who are funny, who are friendly, who don’t seem to be uncomfortable around you. You don’t really know anyone like that in Dahlia yet, and you hadn’t realised quite how much you’d missed it until now.

It’s just the same when you go back into the living room to eat, sitting properly on the sofa this time, next to Huxley. All of them just seem so nice - a far cry from the terrifying criminals you’d thought they might have been. Just ordinary, good people. Sweet and kind and silly. The sort of people that you’ve always wanted to be friends with, but that you’ve never been good at finding.

Damien makes a joke about one of the cooking judges on the screen, and Lasko splutters as he laughs and his tea goes down the wrong way. Huxley wraps his arm around Gavin’s waist to pull him closer against his side, and Freelancer follows suit, draping themselves over Gavin’s back and gleefully making themself comfortable on his shoulder.

There’s a lot to think about, that much is clear. The reality of the situation, the fear of what might be waiting for you if you choose to stay - in a very real sense, they might very well be the death of you. But looking around at them, these people, trusting you with their secret and hoping that you’ll keep it for them, you’re struck with a new and frightening question.

Maybe it really is dangerous. Maybe this would be the biggest mistake of your life - the end of your life. But could you do it? Could you walk away now, knowing what you know, and not regret it?

Lasko leans his head against the front of the sofa, turning his head slightly to look up at you, and gives you a tiny, bashful wave with one hand.

You wave back. He smiles, warm light reflecting softly off his glasses, and perhaps the question isn’t quite as frightening as it used to be.

masterlist

this is an original fanwork by @gingerbreadmonsters - please do not repost or misattribute

[somerandomgaydipstick]

A List of Gripes, Misgivings, Nitpicks, and Other Criticisms of the Wilds Beta

With the beta winding down, we should all take the time to really reflect on how much we enjoyed it. Well, of course we enjoyed it. This is Monster Hunter we're talking. But the beta was, well, a beta test. Capcom dropped it to us specifically to test out Wilds, and generate feedback. This is exactly what I have today to, if they somehow see this; feedback. This is a list of gripes, nitpicks, and small misgivings about MH Wilds I have developed from my time with the beta. I would also like to hear the thought of the community at large and how they compare to my own. I played about 20 hours of it from Tuesday until Sunday, but didn't quite get to trying out all of the weapons. I do, however, have notes on most of them. While I adored the beta and am just as hype for Wilds as the next guy, the whole point of a beta is still to generate constructive community feedback. To that end, here's what I have to say:

System:

Right off the bat, sure I'm on PS5, but this game *really* needs better PC optimization. As funny as looking like a PS1 game for some people was, that simply should not be happening to so many people who have purchased a new GPU anytime in the past couple of years.

Can there please be an option to play offline even if your system is online? Thank you very much. 100 player lobbies are cool and all, but if I wanted to play a game with MMO elements like that I would play an actual MMO. It was my biggest gripe with World for most of its lifespan, and I can't help but think it's only gonna get worse with Wilds.

Environment:

I get if it was done the way it was for the sake of demonstration, but the weather shouldn't change nearly as fast as it did in the beta. It coming and going so often made it feel a lot less significant.

Gathering was for the most part cool, but had some really tedious aspects. I like the idea using the grappling hook for it, but I think that putting loot away takes way too long. Also why does zooming in automatically take the Seikret out of sprint? Can I please sprint while focusing aback the birb?

Speaking of items, the item box menu was awful. Why are all the useful functions in their own dinky little menu? Literally just give me Rise item box, or at least add a 1-button shortcut to the loadout and select stack menus.

I also think the equipment menu could be a little better. I think there should be some button that specifically goes to the loadouts menu and one that goes to the armor-by-set menu.

Fishing was way too slow. I know the whole point of fishing is patience, but I shouldn't have to wait two minutes just to catch a single Sushifish. The full game will probably have consumable baits to remedy this, but nonetheless fishing as it stood was truly agonizing.

I wish we knew about how cooking ingredients work. How do we replenish them in the full game? Do we just buy them from that little grocery stand in base camp? Do we earn them for doing optional requests? What's the deal there? Dumping a bunch of them onto us was probably the way to go for the beta, but I'm gonna be hungry for answers until the full release drops.

The pop-up camp system is really cool, I just think it needs some fine tuning. I think that monsters ought to be a little less inclined to attack "Dangerous" camps than they were in the beta, and a little more inclined to attack "Unsafe" camps.

Monsters:

Chatacabra's damage was undertuned. I know it's basically this game's drome, but I'm pretty sure Great Izuchi dealt more damage in the Rise demo than Chatacabra ever did. It only barely felt like a threat in that first quest, and that was mostly because we didn't get to eat beforehand.

Doshaguma's damage, however, was overtuned. Alpha Dosha managed to cart me more times on average than Rey Dau. If Doshaguma is sort of supposed to be the Anjanath to Rey Dau's Rathalos, that just should not be the case. Also, I think it was way too aggressive in its last phase. Felt worse than a 4th gen Furious Rajang in that regard.

Balahara was a weird mix of attacks that did way too much damage and did too little. Generally, the mud attacks were a little too strong, and the biting attacks were a too weak, but that might just be a matter of personal taste. Shouldn't the attacks by its mouth, which is a perma-wound when open, be really dangerous to present some sort of risk-reward?

The fight itself was extremely well tuned--overall the best in the beta--but I wish Rey Dau would actually use area 5 more often. I only ever saw it go up there a couple of times. Maybe make it go up there instead of 9 and 10 during the Plenty?

Weapons:

Focus mode is really cool, but trying to move independently from the camera and hold an attack at the same time is really awkward. Maybe add an option to bind Focus Mode to L3 on controllers?

Greatsword doesn't feel nearly as meaty as I wish it would. Also, what why does Hammer have something with a higher MV than TCS? It's a really cool attack, don't get me wrong, but I just find the idea of TCS being dethroned in that regard irksome. Other than that, both were great. I mained Hammer in World and Greatsword in GU, and they're both probably gonna be up there in Wilds.

Gunlance felt strong. Like it did a wee bit too much damage for once. Maybe slightly reduce the shell damage. That being said, please for the love of god don't touch shell scaling now that, after 5 whole generations, it is finally fixed. Maybe they could, however, remove the wee bit of intrinsic fire from them and change that out for whatever element the Gunlance itself has? Pretty please?

Nothing but praises to sing for Longsword, Lance, and Charge Blade. They knocked it out of the park with these. Maybe a little too much with Longsword in particular.

Also no real notes on the Sword & Shield, Dual Blades, Hunting Horn, or Insect Glaive. I'm not super familiar with these weapons to begin with.

I have no notes whatsoever on any of the ranged weapons. Didn't get around to playing them myself and have never really liked them to begin with. Bow looks cool though.

That leaves Switch Axe. Poor, poor, Switch Axe. The focus attacks are cool. The counter in Sword Mode and the Offset in Axe Mode are cool. Unbridled and Full Release Slash are cool. But why does sword gauge not recharge passively? Why do sword attacks consume so much gauge? Why revert the change from Rise and not let axe mode get phial bursts when amped? Why does Axe Mode feel more like a chore than anything else? Why does the amped state last for so little time? Also why does hitting circle after that one axe combo morph you into sword? Why is morph slash not always an option? Why does trying to input Wild Swing while moving forward do that fuckass running attack? They had a great thing going in Rise, and IMO kinda dumpstered Switch Axe in Wilds from what we've seen.

TL:DR; I hope Capcom does some fine tuning here and there, fixes up the tent menus, makes fishing bearable, and for the love of Gog fixes Switch Axe for Wilds's full release in February. This game is already looking like one of the best 2025 releases, and if they can just tune it a little bit, it might become my single favorite video game ever.

[dearweirdme]

just wanna ask how has your year been? hope you're okay :D

Hi anon!

Thanks for asking 😊.

It’s been a good year, I’ve been happy 😊. I haven’t always been happy the last ten years or so, and a lot of that had to do with me not being able to be me. After separating from my kid’s dad last year things finally started to get better.

I was a bit scared of being a single mom, but I can now honestly say that I am doing very well. I’m still a chaotic mess always, but at least now I’m a happy one. I have a good relationship with my ex these days. My kid is happy… and I finally get to be me again.

This year I even discovered parts of me that I didn’t realize existed, and I came to understand parts of me that I didn’t before. It’s been great, though also shocking at times 😂. Getting to know myself better has given me self esteem. I’m a bit weird (at least that’s how I’ve always felt), but I am now able to just claim my weird parts and feel comfortable about it. There still things I struggle with, and there probably always will be. I’ve found that that’s something everyone deals with though, just maybe in different areas of life.

To give an update on my queer journey. Still very single! I have discovered that I have a type when it comes to women.. and it’s different from my type in men. A couple of months ago I decided on a whim to join an online dating site… I want love. I miss having someone to love and having someone who loves me (aside from my kid, friends and family ofcourse.. but that’s just different). So.. I subscribed.. opted for both men and women… and got a LOT of likes and messages almost immediately. I was shocked! I had no clue wether I would still be seen as attractive and/or interesting at 42, but apparently I still am. Needless to say, it was good for my self esteem 😊. However, me being weird and all…. All those messages made me feel super overwhelmed and I basically freaked out over having to reply to everyone (don’t want to be rude 😂)… so I freaked out.. ended up ghosting everyone for a week, before I decided to just delete the whole thing. This just wasn’t it for me. It’s fine though. My life is super busy. I rarely feel actually lonely. It’s more of a future wish than me actually wanting to be with someone as soon as possible. It just has to be the right person I think.

So yeah, that’s me 😊.

[tearsinthemist]

Want to learn something new

Want to learn something new in 2022??

Absolute beginner adult ballet series (fabulous beginning teacher)

40 piano lessons for beginners (some of the best explanations for piano I’ve ever seen)

Excellent basic crochet video series

Basic knitting (probably the best how to knit video out there)

Pre-Free Figure Skate Levels A-D guides and practice activities (each video builds up with exercises to the actual moves!)

How to draw character faces video (very funny, surprisingly instructive?)

Another drawing character faces video

Literally my favorite art pose hack

Tutorial of how to make a whole ass Stardew Valley esque farming game in Gamemaker Studios 2??

Introduction to flying small aircrafts

French/Dutch/Fishtail braiding

Playing the guitar for beginners (well paced and excellent instructor)

Playing the violin for beginners (really good practical tips mixed in)

Color theory in digital art (not of the children’s hospital variety)

Retake classes you hated but now there’s zero stakes:

Calculus 1 (full semester class)

Learn basic statistics (free textbook)

Introduction to college physics (free textbook)

Introduction to accounting (free textbook)

Learn a language:

Ancient Greek

Latin

Spanish

German

Japanese (grammar guide) (for dummies)

French

Russian (pretty good cyrillic guide!)

Jan 2, 2023

Want to learn something new in 2023??

Cooking with flavor bootcamp (used what I learned in this a LOT this year)

Beekeeping 101

Learn Interior Design from the British Academy of Interior Design (free to audit course - just choose the free option when you register)

Video on learning to read music that actually helped me??

How to use and sew with a sewing machine

How to ride a bike (listen. some of us never learned, and that's okay.)

How to cornrow-braid hair (I have it on good authority that this video is a godsend for doing your baby niece's black hair)

Making mead at home (I actually did this last summer and it was SO good)

How to garden

Basics of snowboarding (proceed with caution)

How to draw for people who (think they) suck at art (I know this website looks like a 2003 monstrosity, but the tutorials are excellent)

Pixel art for beginners so you can make the next great indie game

Go (back) to school

Introduction to Astronomy (high school course - free textbook w/ practice problems)

Principals of Economics (high school course - free textbook w/ practice problems)

Introduction to philosophy (free college course)

Computer science basics (full-semester Harvard course free online)

Learn a language

Japanese for Dummies (link fix from 2022)

Ukrainian

Portuguese (Brazil)

American Sign Language (as somebody who works with Deaf people professionally, I also strongly advise you to read up on Deaf/HoH culture and history!)

Chinese (Mandarin, Simplified)

Quenya (LOTR fantasy elf language)

Dec 26, 2023

Want to learn something new in 2024??

Beginner-oriented video on how to sail

This guy has so many videos on baking different types of bread. SO very many.

Coding in Python - one of the most flexible and adaptable high-level programming languages out there - explained through projects making video games

Learn to swim! (for adult learners. I don’t care if you live in Kansas or Mali or wherever. LEARN TO SWIM.)

Learn how quantum mechanics works. Then read some more about it

[Learn about quantum mechanics again, but in a more advanced engineering/mathematics class. Then read more about the math and physics of it]

Poetry Handbook, by Mary Oliver

Something I learned this year: how to sew a quilt (Here’s a very easy beginning pattern that looks amazing and can be done with pre-cut fabric!)

How to hit the ball in softball

Tutorial video on what is under the hood of most (gas) cars + weird engine sounds and what they mean

Full beginner mechanics technical training, if you want to go more in depth

Playlist on how car engine physics work if you want to go ultra in depth

Lecture series on architecture design through study of buildings

How (American income) taxes & tax law work (choose “audit course” at checkout for free class)

Pickleball for beginners (so you can finally join your neighbor/friend/distant cousin who is always insisting you join their team)

+ Para-Pickleball for beginners (for mobility aid users!)

School is so much more fun when there’s no tests:

American Law - Contracts

Shakespeare’s Life and Plays

Fairy Tales: Meanings, Messages, and Morals

Modern Poetry

World History [Part 1, Part 2]

Learn a language:

Arabic + Resource Guide compiled from Reddit (includes info on different dialects)

Chinese (Cantonese) (audio)

Urdu (frequently recommended course on Reddit) + Resource Guide

Yucatec Maya

[mgnifiqueyoo]

— "love at first spark."

requested by: anon pairing: zb1 matthew x fem!reader song recommendation: dear no one (tori kelly) lowercase is intended… — a/n: y'aaaaall, i really wanted to start writing a zb1 oneshot but i actually didn't know where to start but thanks to the person who requested this, here's my first ever seok matthew oneshot! i hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it! ^^ (btw, i am also thinking of making a masterlist for all my uploaded projects very soon!)

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“ricky, i’m fine. you don’t have to call me every hour. tell mom and dad that i’m doing just great, okay?”

it was the second week since you moved into your new dorm. flying across the country is not really what you expected at all this year. you already had your plans; just trying out an online entrance exam to a university abroad and then, not expecting anything from it. you could say that it was all “just for fun” until you received an e-mail.

and that letter basically told you that you had to move out. 

“look, i don’t trust you on your own and i’m just looking out for you,” your brother said back in defense, probably already making up an excuse for this call to even take place. “... i’m gonna miss you a lot, y/n.”

“me too.” you paused for a bit as you remembered how fun it was to be back home. with each day that passes, things are changing and you just couldn’t believe that this was the actual start of something new. out of the country and pursuing something so difficult– law. “... m’kay, i’ll text you later after i review. love you, ricky.”

“... love you, too.”

ending the call yourself, you chuckled at the way he sounded so hesitant to say those words back. ricky would refuse to admit it but there was always that soft side in him that comes out every time something completely life-changing takes place; the type of thing that doesn't really have a clear answer in the end.

to him, this was one of those things.

by the time you got back to your plans, you were already so eager to start cleaning out your desk to spend the rest of your hours with your nose stuck in a book– and, oh, suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

"huh?" you stood up straight after bending down the table, your palms still looking for that bright, vibrant blueish aqua highlighter you'd always use for notes. "... just a second!"

nonetheless, you made your way to the door even though you had no idea who else could've been behind it. and once you opened it, you were met with a guy who held a mysterious box; he had dirty blond hair and a nice set of teeth that seemed to have been covered once he saw you.

but why?

"sorry, who are you?" "here's your order… ma'am?"

he didn't even sound sure when he said that last word as you took the box in your own hands, your brows furrowed. god, you were just so confused. you didn't even buy anything!

"... there's no way you're jonathan whales, right?"

that's when things got clearer for you as the tensed muscles on your face slowly loosened up… but at what cost? this guy in front of you obviously just got ditched by some horrible customer. 

"well," your smile widens but it only made him feel a lot more unsettled, especially with those dead eyes of yours staring back at him, "i'm not a johnathan apparently."

the boy in front of you bit his bottom lip, frowning as he squinted his eyes in anxiousness and a whole lot of uncertainty. he scratches the back of his neck, confused yet curious eyes looking around your dorm room from the outside as he later lets out a defeated sigh.

"... have i been scammed?"

your shoulders slowly rose up as a grimace was plastered on your face, your head nodding hesitantly in response. the blond had every right to roll his eyes, letting out a deep breath as you quickly assumed that he didn't like the way you reacted.

but in your defense, you were just starting your weekend with a supposed two-hour long review session. you didn't expect an unpaid package and a scammed seller to come by your doorstep!

"hold on… let me check my account." he raised his pointer finger up for a bit, pulling out the phone from his hoodie's pocket. not once did he smile at the view of whatever it was on his screen. "... oh, no."

"not a good news, isn't it?" "yeah… i just got robbed."

you widen your eyes, baffled at this ridiculous situation happening right in front of you. ‘i can’t just leave him here, can’t i?’ you thought to yourself, also letting out the same deep breath he did. — well, all those things you wanted to do? they’re gonna be done tomorrow because you feel the need to help this guy.

looking down at the package you held, you noticed how neatly it was prepared and you knew that this guy wanted to impress his customer. “... what’s your name?”

“matthew... matthew seok.” he then stared at the bulletin board behind your desk, raising both of his eyebrows in what seemed like fascination. “and i think we go to the same university, miss l/n? i’m really sorry- i need to take this back.”

as he reached for the package, you frowned, pulling it away from him. for some unknown reason, you didn’t want to return to him. 

“no,” you argued shortly, causing him to tilt his head, making him even more confused than before, “i’ll pay for it.”

the blond lets out a chuckle that is obviously having a lot of feelings mixed. you couldn’t help but mentally curse yourself for refusing to return the parcel to him. “you don’t have to do that-”

“this is mine now. i’ll pay for it.” your arm covered the lid of the box in baby blue shades, your brows furrowing further as matthew seemed to not get the memo yet. was it because it’s his first time meeting someone as persistent as this? or was it because he just didn’t know what to do? anyway, you cared less enough to answer those questions.

and instead, paid attention to this weird, sudden desire of this random parcel that you didn’t even purchase. “listen, i know you want to help me but i don’t want you spending your money on this.” matthew’s growing concern didn’t fade away at all as his hands reached for the box once more, resulting in you flinching as you held it in your arms tightly. — this is the weirdest you’ve ever been.

‘why am i so obsessed with this?’ you asked yourself silently in a form of an uncertain gulp and a puzzled, blank stare at the seller, who still stood by your doorstep. “what’s inside of it?”

“... well, you don’t need to know-” “is it drugs?” “what? no!”

but no matter how many times the guy tried to stop you, your hands started tearing the tapes around the box’s lid and body. — this is the most chaotic you’ve ever been. “ma’am, calm down!” he grabbed your wrists to catch your attention and it did… in the most unusual way.

in fact, it was so unusual that your gripping hands let go of the box, letting the package fall on the floor, a loud thud and a few cracks were heard. looking down, you soon realized that it was a record player. 

'oh, what a shame,' you thought, deep into your regrets. it was like there was this rope pulling you towards it even though you didn't know what this "johnathan whales" guy bought.

and apparently, it was really pretty, sky blue record player.

“i… i told you i’d pay for it,” you blurted out, unsure of the consequences as matthew kept his head down, taking a few deep breaths. audible and full of shame. you were sure that you just made the situation worse. “i’m sorry.”

as his hands let go of your wrists, you swore that something stinging was left on your skin. no, it wasn’t an insect or the itchy feeling of your sweatshirt. it wasn’t even the wind that entered your room from the windows… it was something else.

and there were sparks of it.

in pink and are all over your arms, glowing before they faded away like nothing; like it was some smoke.

“did you just… see that?” matthew did not wait for a second to let it pass, staring right into your soul with no plans of looking somewhere else. “you saw that, right? am i just hallucinating or-”

“no, i saw it too.” you couldn’t look away from him, founding comfort in the fact that he also saw (and felt) the same thing. not to mention, it didn’t look like it was just a faint glimpse– it was like fireworks in the afternoon skies, especially the ones before the clock strikes five o’clock. 

the boy then took a step back, realizing that he still held your arms as the time-stopping ambiance slowly left the room; but it lingered as if hours had gone by. “... what do you think was it?” he rocked himself back and forth in an almost unnoticeable way, little by little. you could see the genuine curiosity in his eyes but you were left with no answer.

i mean, how does someone know the reason behind that? seeing magenta sparks? it’s already so delusional just by listening to those words. “i’m not sure about that… do you want to talk about it?” you had no idea that you opened a new path for him as he kept his head tilted, jaw slightly left hanging as he smiled with his pretty teeth. 

“are you kidding? of course! i mean, you’d never see anything like that everyday!” he joked, making you let out a chuckle that was still very much lost in the moment. 

finding yourself staring at him, you woke yourself up in the middle of it, standing by the side of the doorframe to let him walk in as he giggled, oddly settled after all that disaster earlier as you began to slowly see the bright side in it, too.

“can you give me a moment to fix this mess?" you asked, which made him nod almost immediately, later walking his way in. you expected him to sit on the solo couch to make himself at least feel at home but he only stood, looking around with his bright eyes. 

and again, it made you smile for no reason. “so, you study law, huh? that’s pretty hard, isn’t it?” his eyes were glued to the textbooks that were piled on your desk as you chuckled, shrugging right after. 

“well, it’s something that i really wanted to do,” you said back, slightly biting the tip of your tongue as you remembered the mess you’ve made off of his product. “matthew, i’m so sorry for what happened. i’ll pay for it, i promise-”

“hey, i just told you that you don’t have to! we’ll just… i don’t know? tell this to the police? maybe they could do something.” he interrupted you, still pushing his priorities over your suggestion. and even though you didn’t like that, he sure did have a point. none of this was your fault. if only the scammer was a genuine customer, this wouldn’t have taken place.

but something tells you that this was meant to happen. you’re just not sure why.

once you returned to the ruined box with the badly damaged record player, his glare followed every move you made. maybe even syncing with the rhythm of your breathing. “... would you let me help you with that?” he offered as you turned to look back at him, exerting extra effort, considering that you’re crouched to the ground with broken pieces in both of your hands. 

“that’d be great.” you laughed as he did so too before continuing to sit down next to you, willing to share the work with you at least. 

when silence was starting to take over, the blond paused for a while as he couldn’t help but stare at you and it intrigued him. was it the way you were so determined in helping him? was it because of how odd the situation was? he never had a clue. “i think it’s not just my money that was stolen.” 

you faced him in response, raising an eyebrow with eyes shining in interest. “what else was stolen, then?” you let out another laugh once more, noticing the way you felt drawn to him more and more. for a bit, he seemed like he didn’t want to say those next few words but of course, he wouldn’t let such a perfect chance pass.

“... i think you just stole my heart.”

[my-castles-crumbling]

hi okay you said it’s okay to rant to you so here’s mine: being a lesbian is so lonely and isolating. I’m in my mid 20s and I’ve maybe met two lesbians in my entire life and have never been in a relationship with a woman. (I have dated some men bec I didn’t realize I was queer till senior yr of hs, although it’s so obviously to me now) I have never had a group of queer people to hang out with and I am always the only queer person in a room. I have some good (straight) friends but I see and interact with the world so differently so it’s hard feeling close to them. I basically have to be a straight person around them or talk about being a lesbian and watch them have no idea what to say. I just can’t imagine telling a straight person “hey what if you were in your mid 20s and had never even had a full length conversation with a straight person”.

With the internet (or parts of it) being so openly queer now I feel so behind and stupid for not having found this perfect gay friend group or even having a girlfriend. It just feels like every queer person has got those things and that I’ve somehow done something wrong because I haven’t. And I’m worried it will only get harder to make friends as I get older. I wish I didn’t feel so lonely. I wish I wasn’t the only lesbian in every room I have ever been in. I wish I had someone in my life (friend or girlfriend) who truly saw and understood me. (I also wish more therapists were lesbians, but that’s another rant)

Thank you so much for listening. Your blog is such a wonderful, safe space and I enjoy your writing immensely . <3 have a great rest of your day!

Hi love!

First of all, this feeling of being lonely and isolated is completely valid and unfortunately all too normal. There are so many parts of the world that are lacking in queer spaces.

Please know, NOT every queer person has a perfect gay friend group and a significant other. There are SO MANY people who feel like you do- I've talked to many of them here! You are not stupid or behind at all!

If you can be safe and do so, here are some suggestions if you're in the mental space and want them:

If you live near a city, try to see if there are queer spaces there. Queer spaces are more common in cities. Things like gay bars, drag shows, and cafes advertised as queer-safe.

If you like near a city that does so (and again, if it is safe to do so) try attending a pride event. Even if you go my yourself, I promise you will make friends. Last year at pride the group I went with actually grabbed like three or four people who had been there by themselves and just added them to our group!

Try online friend and dating apps. If you feel safe putting on your profile that you're queer, you'll probably find people in your area who are also queer!

Continue to talk to people online. I promise, there are so many people feeling the same way as you, and even though it's not the same as finding people in person, a community in any way is still so helpful.

You have a lot of people on here that are here for you (myself included) and you are NOT alone <3

[finalgirlmegumi]

whats a good starting point for a guy who wants to get into led zeppelin!!

HEHEHEHEEHEHE… hello anon, come in come in….. sit on this nice cozy chair dont mind the leather straps on the armrests heheeh……..

ok in all seriousness. And ill try to keep this as short as i can. theeee lz experience is hearing them play live, rather than the studio recordings. This may sound weird to hear from a guy born 20 years after lz stopped doing shows lol but theres a LOT of material out there that u can watch/listen to if u wanna get (what i assume is a fraction of) the experience. Probably the easiest thing to find and in best quality (though in my exp the quality of online streams is still atrocious, maybe theres some hq torrents though?) is “the song remains the same”, a concert film of three dates they played at MSG in 1973. but theres also videos floating around of their concerts at Royal Albert Hall 1970 and Earls court 1975 (you can check yt for these) plus a few odds and ends here and there (im a big fan of this tv appearance in france 1969, though this was super early on so their performance “style” isnt yet well defined, esp wrt plant, but the actual playing is still peak imo)

as far of audio-only live recordings go, theres of course the album version of TSRTS, the BBC sessions album (of various radio appearances they did through the years), and the album called “how the west was won” with live versions of many of their more popular songs taken from a couple dates in california in i believe 1972. These are all on spotify or yt or wherever else u listento music. Theyre also really well mastered (and remastered, and re remastered…) bc Jimmy Page is anal like that. So even if theyre live theyre great quality and u can hear every instrument distinctly.

ALSO theres like a million lz bootlegs out there, which is like its own niche subfandom(?). A bootleg is an illegal recording that fans made back in the 70s and then spread around and/or sold for money. the digital versions of many of these are available on yt and archive.org but theres also a huge marked of selling them, the og 70s vinyls are especially prized. idk much about lz bootlegs bc i never could listen to a single one all the way through as all the noise bothers my brain lol so if anyone reading this does and has tips please share<3

I spoke about live stuff bc in my opinion, and also according to members of lz, fans, various music critic type people, basically everyone agrees lol lz studio songs were just kind of the first iteration of what would then mutate and stretch into a more loose, longer, live experience. Imo lz, studio or live, is some of the best music ever made point blank period, but its definitely not for everyone, in that you have to be able to get in that classic rock/prog rock* type of mood of songs lasting anywhere from 6 minutes studio to 35 minutes live, and taking you on this weird journey with ebbs and flows, rather than having a tight structure that is easier to follow and listen to like all pop music ever. i mean this in an entirely value neutral way: a pop song, whether from 1965 or 2015, is easy to listen to bc IT carries YOU through the listening experience, whether you want to or not, whereas for instance a 20 min version of dazed and confused live requires you to willingly be there. Its not work or effort, exactly (at least not to me) but it definitely requires a different type of attention.

and btw maybe you knew all this already lol but i said it incase you or anyone else who ends up reading this doesn’t know a lot about rock

ANYWAY, of course theres also the actual studio albums. i dont think theres any specific way you should listen To them, like my friend has been going thru them chronologically but back in the day when i was just getting into lz i just jumped from one song or album to another as the mood struck me (which is how hoth ended up being the first lz album i ever heard… i think itd finished torrenting first and i liked the cover and took it on my ipod on holiday with me, and now its my favorite album of all time & engraved on my very soul lol). If you want MY recs of the stuff i like best, i have this recruitment playlist where i put a mix of my fave lz songs and the ones i think are must-listen for any new fan.

Ok so i ended up writing a bunch anyway LMAO. ty for the ask lmk if u have any specific questions ❤️