#Then the servers went down and honestly there's no reason to go back for me

[jaythelay]

I'm honestly stunned that Sony dropped the ball for their Sackboy as hard as they did.

Now it's astroboy or somethin' and fine, but I don't imagine they'll do better with them.

Had a fuckin' Mario Tier Mascot and it went to shit so fast I don't think it'll return and even then, it'll just be another brand. Kinda sad, it really did have potential.

[fingertipsmp3]

I’m gonna challenge my subconscious to a fist fight and I’m gonna lose

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

I (26, NB) dropped a long-term friend (23, not disclosing gender, I'll call them X) for being a proshipper, and now they're trying to get in the way of my other friendships.

A little more than a month ago, an old friend from when I was an itty bitty teen on the internet (we met when they were 12 and I was 15 or so) messaged me on twitter asking if we could share discord since they're more active on that platform, and they missed hanging out. Ok, no prob!! I missed talking to X and life was going kinda icky for me at the time. We exchanged discords and started talking more frequently, before we would talk through twitter dms maybe one day every few months, and we went from almost no contact to talking every single day. It was like being a teenager again; we still shared similar interests and we really fast clicked over old and new fandoms we were in. We talked about college and how they're starting to get the hang of their new job but needed support, talked about our family lives, etc., and in general I felt really comfortable and happy to be chatting again with someone I've known for so long. We were inseparable for weeks.

However... of course, as adults, and having known each other for YEARS, we started talking about fandom ships and fics we enjoyed. We didn't have the same taste in pairings, but that was okay. Until it wasn't anymore.

I shared my NSFW twitter with them, and they followed me. A few minutes later X told me, "I see you have "proship DNI in your bio, I just want to let you know that I am a pro-ship and enjoy some things in fandom that you might think is gross. I hope that's okay."

I was kind of weirded out, and told them that as long as they didn't like anything that would be criminal in real life, that's fine. They told me they *did* enjoy things in fiction that they "wouldn't condone in reality" and even though they "don't talk about it publicly" they still wanted me to know. For some reason. ?? Even though they KNOW that I have an irl history of abuse as a kid, they still told me this.

I was so fucking uncomfortable and really, really sad, and honestly I felt betrayed? I stepped away from my account for like, an hour before messaging them back and saying I didn't want to continue talking to them anymore. That I didn't know they were that kind of person and I'm not comfortable being their friend. I didn't read their response to me because I soft-blocked them.

While I was getting over that and trying to move on, a few days later I was talking to another mutual friend of ours when they asked if I was still friends with X. I got chills remembering how I broke off with them, and said no, we weren't talking anymore. That they were the kind of person that made me really uneasy and uncomfortable to be around. The mutual friend, I'll call R, said that X was "feeling kind of down about losing a friend recently" and talked about it in a discord server they share. X didn't mention my name but R wondered if it was me who dropped them since I was really touchy about boundaries online. I freaked out a little thinking about them talking about me, and asked what else they said, and R told me "not much, just that they felt sad but it was your choice in the end because you two were different" and I don't know why but it left a bad taste in my mouth. Were they trying to make people seem like I was the bad guy or something?? Idk.

I told R the reason why I stopped talking to X, and that X is a proshipper who likes things like inc*st and rape, and R wasn't as supportive as I thought he would be, saying that he understood how I felt but if X was being honest and open about their interests, it probably meant they trusted me and didn't want to "lie" to me. I don't understand how that's even relevant if X is a fucking proshipper. I don't want their trust in the first place if that's who they really are, and I felt betrayed that someone I knew for so long was hiding that for me until we were bonding again. R basically dropped it there and said "idk then" and I told him I was going to shut off my notifs for a bit. I really don't want to talk with him again right now especially since he didn't seem THAT bothered by X being a proshipper who's into really criminal shit.

Since then, friends of mine who are also friends with R (because he's a friend of X still, for some reason), haven't been replying to me as much anymore and I'm super sensitive to noticing these things, at first I told myself it was nothing, but there's an obvious decrease in our interactions. I can't help but think that X actually said bad stuff about me, and R didn't want me to know, or maybe X convinced R that I was a terrible person or something. I still haven't read X's reply to me because I genuinely do not want to interact with them ever again, but for the past few days I've been so angry and hurt by my other friend's actions that I can't help but want to blame them, since this all started when I left them.

AITA for dropping a friend because their interests made me SEVERELY uncomfortable? I don't know what to do.

What are these acronyms?

[alchemistc]

i present my latest offering of an au first meeting: the poker game.

Big Blind

Tommy's been on plenty of bad dates in his time, but this one might actually take the cake for worst first date he's ever had. They're just -- not right for one another, and it's clear they can both feel it, but for some reason Jeff just -- keeps talking. About his border collie rescue, and his sixth fourteener (this year), and the his upcoming promotion and the Cybertruck he's thinking about getting wrapped in matte black --

"Jeff," Tommy cuts in, when he starts in on Tesla stock talk. "I'm gonna pay the check and head out. It's been..." he gestures. Considers calling Stout right here at the dinner table to tell him no more blind dates with his stock broker brother-in-laws friends, no matter how gay they are.

He's gonna get shit from Stout's wife the next time she stops by with a casserole, but honestly a half-hour tirade on politeness from Heather Alexandra Stout sounds better than learning how much of an Elon Musk fanboy Jeff really is. Jeff looks like he might be offended by the implication that he wouldn't have paid, but Tommy's already waving down his server and gesturing to the bar by the time Jeff even thinks to reach for his wallet.

"You have a good night."

Andrea slides his check under his elbow with a raised brow and doesn't say a word when he hands her his card immediately, but he can tell she's judging him. Third date in a month he's barely contained his disdain for long enough to pay up, although this is the first he's outright ditched before the bill was even paid.

Gary slides a beer across the bar to him and refuses the cash Tommy tries to give him for it. "Do I look that pathetic, Gary?"

Man of few words, Gary just taps his nose and tips his chin to his date, who is doing a terrible job of trying to sneak out the door.

"You're too good for him, anyway," says Andrea, back already with his card. He tucks an extra twenty into her folder and downs the beer in silence while they watch through the window as Jeff seems to get into an argument with the Uber pulling up in front of the restaurant.

"Maybe it's me," Tommy says, and Gary hums in commiseration. Or maybe he just has gas. "Maybe I'm the problem."

It's been a string of bad dates, and before that a relationship that'd gone up in metaphorical but nearly literal flames. Tommy's spent a lot of introspective time wishing he could kill Gerrard with lasers so that he doesn't have to blame himself for staying in the closet so long that blind dates and Grindr meetups were his real introduction to the dating scene.

"Someday, Tommy, you'll meet someone who can't get enough of your morbid humor and your pessimism and your obsession with haunted cars."

"One car," Tommy argues, although that's beside the point. "I think maybe I should give the search for love a break, Gary."

Gary hums, again.

Tommy drinks the rest of his beer in companionable silence and pulls up his phone to order an Uber himself. Jeff is, thankfully, long gone, and Tommy's halfway through confirming his home address when he remembers the invite he'd received last week that he'd hesitated scheduling a date around. He shoots off a text instead, and updates the address before he slides from the bar stool.

Gary shoots him a look. "Headed home?"

Tommy shifts on his feet. Shoots a look behind the bar. "Nah. Gonna try to hit up a work thing. Pour me a shot of Tullamore for the road?"

Gary accepts the twenty this time and doesn't make a comment about the way Tommy downs a sipping whiskey, which Tommy appreciates.

He's halfway to his destination, enjoying the chat with his driver, when the text comes in from Lucy.

Had to bail, but you should go if the date went that badly. Williams will enjoy slowly ruining the remainder of your night.

Tommy taps his phone once, twice, three times before he makes up his mind not to be the asshole who changes his destination halfway through the ride. Worst comes to worst, he'll tap out early and Venmo Mehta the rest of his stake.

Better than moping at home with the pint of freezer-burned Ben and Jerry's.

-----

He's fairly rushed down the stairs once he's in, because apparently Williams is on some sort of time crunch, or something, and he's fairly certain the drinks are catching up to him as he takes in the table. Mehta and Wilson are regulars, and he's seen Rosen around, but there are two new guys settling in across the table and Tommy has to take a long, long moment to remind himself this is technically a professional setting before he can look too closely at either one of them.

Yeah. Shit, he'd definitely drank most of that second pitcher by himself, listening to Jeff talk.

"Kinard. We weren't expecting you." Rosen's eyes glimmer with amusement. He'd caught maybe six months of her probationary year, but every time she sees him she likes to remind him of the first time she'd seen him post-transfer, at a gay bar in WeHo, and introduced him to the first guy he'd dated seriously in his entire life. Tommy returns the favor by reminding her exactly how terribly that had ended for all parties. "Poker night dress code usually includes more buttons than date night," she jabs, finger circling the olives in her martini glass, and Tommy contemplates tossing one of Mehta's chips at her. Her grin goes wide.

With the momentary distraction, Tommy feels a little more prepared to face the two men now eyeing him curiously.

"Tommy," he says, leaning over the table, hand out to shake. Turtleneck raises a curious eyebrow when Mr. Red Velvet Smoking jacket practically leaps across his lap to shake back. "I'm over at 217."

"This is Eddie," Red Velvet introduces, and Tommy's gaze dances between them, curious. "I'm Evan. We're with the -- wait, 217 -- Chimney's Tommy?"

Tommy's brows dance up the same time as Eddie's do. He is still shaking hands with Evan. Or - holding is more accurate, he supposes, but for the sake of his sanity and the possible date Evan and Eddie are on, if he's reading the introduction or any of the vibes right (they're both stunning and Tommy is smarting from another shitty date, so who knows), Tommy keeps it to shake in his mind. "Well I don't think Howie can claim ownership of my person, but -."

"Sorry, no, I just meant..." Evan's gaze drops to their clasped hands, still now over the felt of the poker table. He gives one more firm pump and drops Tommy's hand. "We're both at the 118. Pretty sure you helped save this guy's ass once." He tips a thumb sideways to indicate the man he'd introduced as Eddie.

Tommy's eyes drift. He's had a few drinks, and up until about halfway through the date he'd been expecting a very different outcome for his night, so he's maybe not keeping a lid on things the way he normally would in a work setting. He's guessing the ass he's purported to have saved would look great, if it weren't firmly planted in his chair and out of view. The rest of the view ain't bad, either.

And.

Shit.

Williams is giving him a look, which means he's not being even a little subtle. "The gas main explosion," Tommy finally gathers from the cobwebs of his brain, and wouldn't it be his luck to transfer out of the 118 just in time for two annoyingly attractive men who may possibly be boning each other to take his place.

Evan grins. Beams, more like, and Tommy slides firmly into his own chair and tries not to be blinded by it. Or entranced by it. God he needs to get laid. Get this - whatever this is - out of his system.

Tommy's cool. Tommy's calm and collected and he hadn't even had that much to drink, actually, so why is he having such a hard time behaving like he's had forty years of experience dealing with attractive men?

Tommy sorts through the memories.

Eddie he can pinpoint fairly easily -- he'd shot off a message to Chim the moment they'd learned one of the 118 had been shot, and had been happy to break the news of his recovery to an anxious Harbor station in the tense days after it had all gone down. Evan, though - he doesn't have a clue who that could be. He's still got a few buddies from B Shift he talks to on occasion, but he doesn't remember any stories about an Evan from them, and Howie hasn't mentioned one, either.

Of course, it's not like either one of them does a great job of keeping in touch.

The mystery is solved a moment later when Williams tips her head at him. "Feels like we're being overrun by the 118 tonight," she says with a grin, but her gaze slides to Evan, rather than Tommy. "And we've got an honest-to-goodness legend tonight."

"You know I still can't believe you survived that, Buckley," Mehta says, and the puzzle piece slots itself into place. "Uh, although we're all glad that you did."

Buckley. Tommy shifts. Reassesses. Eyes the glance between Diaz and Buckley like he's gonna figure out their deal while he's already four and a half drinks deep into the night and hasn't already heard the larger than life tales of this duo from half-a-dozen gossipy paramedics. According to some, there's a secret torrid love affair going on behind the scenes of their codependent friendship. According to others, the ones he more or less trusts not to stretch the truth too far, they're friends -- closer than most, and maybe a little weird about each other, but friends all the same.

Buckley's a shark. Or, if Williams is to be believed, a bit of a cheat.

As the game goes on, and the conversation drifts from the morbid details of Buckley's three-minutes-seventeen-seconds of lifelessness, past the special skills near death experiences are rumored to cause, past the time out where they'd all admired the pictures of Buckley's Lichtenburg scars ("They faded pretty quickly," Evan says, with a soft little frown like he's a bit disappointed not to have any physical proof beyond a few shots of his naked brick shithouse of a chest.) Tommy can't help but admire the shift from bashful to smirking and smug as Evan keeps racking up monumentally improbable hands. He's a bit of a brat, actually, and Tommy can feel Rosen's eyes burning into the side of his head every time he ups the ante just to watch the flicker of triumph aimed in his direction every time Evan wins a hand Tommy raised.

Tommy's no slob with cards, on a normal day, but he's too busy trying not to read anything into the way Evan's eyes keep drifting to the v of the shirt he hadn't buttoned back up just to spite Rosen, or the way he keeps licking his fucking lips every time Tommy takes a sip of the whiskey at his elbow to really care as his chips dwindle to nothing. Tommy can't be entirely sure, but it seems like maybe Evan pouts, a little, when Tommy pushes back from the table to join the rest of the losers crowded around to watch Williams, Mehta and Buckley battle it out.

He's trying to think of a subtle way to ask Howie if Evan Buckley is just like that with all the men in his life when Eddie slides in beside him with a refill on his whiskey. Tommy grimaces. "I shouldn't."

"Thought you were trying to drink away a bad date?"

Tommy shoots Rosen a glare over Eddie's shoulder, but she's too busy chasing her straw with her tongue to notice.

"He was a Tesla fanboy," Tommy intones, and the braces himself for the reaction. He's used to it, now -- the constant cycle of coming out and waiting to see which new acquaintances bow out of getting to know each other any better. This is... earlier, than he usually drops it, but he hasn't been in the mood to lie about it in years, and Eddie had asked. He gets a raised brow and a grimace.

"Don't tell me you didn't know ahead of time," Eddie says, and Tommy loosens the grip on his glass.

"Hazards of blind dating."

Eddie's look is commiserating. He tips his beer bottle against Tommy's rocks glass. "Yeah, my tia keeps finding reasons for me to run into the eligible daughters and granddaughters of all her friends." Which Tommy supposes is answer to half of the question that's been plaguing him since he sat down.

Buckley gets cocky a few times, but it's clear the night is going his way even before Jeshan Mehta's pot gets swept up in Evan's arms. Williams holds out as long as she can.

"Beginner's luck!" Buckley crows, when Williams' last chip is added to his pile. Eddie's been supplying him with a steady flow of drinks for the past thirty minutes, and his smile is crooked as he tilts backwards in his chair for a fist bump. His eyes flick to Tommy's once he's received his congratulations from Eddie, and Tommy pretends he's not a little bit fascinated by the pull of his jacket over his arms, or the way his closed hand lingers near Tommy's even after Tommy has smacked his knuckles against his as well.

Evan Buckley is frustratingly adorable. Tommy's had too many drinks for any kind of decent decision making. He bows out while Evan and Eddie are collecting his winnings.

-----

Tommy's eyes flick to the readout on his phone. He doesn't recognize the number, but it's a local area code, so he picks up on the forth ring. "Go for Kinard."

"Uh - hey, hi. Hey Tommy." The voice is familiar, sweet and low. "It's Buck - Evan. Evan Buckley. I uh -- I got your number from Chim, I hope that's alright?"

Tommy's got a solid fifteen minutes before he has to leave for work, a raging headache that has thus far refused to accept electrolytes or Advil as tribute to his overindulgence the previous evening, and a full understanding that he's going to spend his shift listening to Donato swear up and down she's the better option for finding him a man, but the voice on the other end of his phone might at least give the headache a run for it's money.

"Evan. Hi."

"Hey. So -- you dipped before I could ask -- which is fine, obviously, I'm not -- uh..." He pauses. Tommy can practically picture the way he wets his lower lip while he searches for the right words. "Anyway I was wondering -- would you maybe wanna grab a beer, sometime?"

Tommy spends about fifteen seconds rearranging his entire schedule in his mind. Says, cool, calm, collected: "Sure. When are you free?"

Evan's voice goes distant for a second -- he's putting Tommy on speaker. "I, uh -- I didn't expect you to say yes so quickly. Actually I didn't expect you to answer -- who answers unknown numbers, anymore?"

"Who calls expecting to get sent to voicemail?"

The brat rises up immediately. "Uh, literally everyone. The missed call is just an excuse to text. It's basic phone etiquette, Tommy."

Tommy likes the way he says his name. Soft, sweet and slow, rolling over his tongue like molasses. This feels incredibly like flirting, but he can't get a fucking read on this kid. "Clearly I've missed out on an important cultural shift. I can hang up and we can do this the right way, if you want."

"No!" It's sharp -- louder, like he's raising the phone back towards his mouth. Tommy can't hide the grin leaking across his face. "Uh -- no, it's fine. Too late, anyway, I already know you don't know phone rules."

"Hopefully that doesn't change your opinion of me too much."

"I could be convinced to ignore it, with the right incentive."

"I'll buy first round," Tommy says, and wonders if he's got any other shirts he can play off as fitting better with three buttons undone. The flirting should be enough, but -- Tommy's still not sure drinks isn't just drinks.

"Wednesday night," Evan says, voice further away again. Tommy has a sudden, desperate urge to see what his Google calendar looks like. For all that he'd cut loose at the poker game, Tommy bets it's color coded by type of activity. "If that works. Or Saturday, any time, really. I'm uh -- I'm free then."

If Tommy bows out of trivia on classic car week Cynthia will have a whole ass bitch fit. And it makes him seem a little less eager, to boot. "Saturday. I've got a shift early Sunday, though, so maybe something in the afternoon?"

"Yeah -- yes, th-that works." The stammering isn't something Tommy can get a read off of. He'd done it just as much with Eddie as he'd done with everyone else. "There's a new brewery just off Pico and Prosser -- Chim said you were a fan of craft beer?"

Sounding more date like by the minute, but -- some guys toe the line. Could be Evan Buckley just wants to know more about flight operations, for all Tommy knows. "Text me the details. Look, Evan, I'd love to stay on this rule-breaking phone call and chat but I've got to head in for a shift. Just -- let me know the plan." He's got five minutes to brush his teeth and rue the moment he'd asked Gary for his first whiskey of the night. He's also rolling back his last few sentences and cringing at how abrupt he'd been. "And yeah -- good to know Chim hasn't forgotten the three facts I ever told him about me."

Evan laughs, just a soft little huff but Tommy already knows the grin behind that sound is all sorts of knee-meltingly sweet. "Cool. So. Yeah, I'll text you."

"I'll talk to you later, Evan."

"Yep. Talk to you -- talk to you soon."

Tommy waits a moment in silence. The call doesn't end. "Goodbye, Evan."

Evan huffs out another awkward laugh. "Yeah. Bye, Tommy."

The call disconnects just in time for Tommy to press his forehead into the cool tile beside his bathroom mirror. He might be monumentally screwed if this isn't a date. He hasn't been this fucking charmed by a man since -- well, it's been a while.

Tommy's phone buzzes in his hand. It's a pinned address from a number he doesn't have saved. Tommy swipes into the contact and updates it before the next text makes it through. Saturday 3PM?

Tommy brushes his teeth, downs the rest of his preworkout in the hopes that it'll ease some of the nastier parts of his stupid decision to keep drinking liquor past midnight, and stares at the text all the way out to his truck.

See you then, Tommy sends back, and he has to toss his phone into his passenger seat when he gets a series of incomprehensible emoji's almost immediately in response.

He holds up a hand to Donato the moment she catches his gaze, halfway across the parking lot. The brow goes up, the hand slots to her hip, and she rolls her tongue over her teeth, clearly ready for her speech about how Stout doesn't have a clue how to find Tommy a proper date. Tommy has other problems.

"You worked with Evan Buckley, for a while, didn't you?"

Her head tilt rights itself. The second brow dances up to meet the first. Whatever she'd meant to say disperses behind her eyelids as she seems to work through something in her mind. "Oh, this is compelling," she says, and practically skips forward to loop her arm in his.

[sagucpuppet]

painter x reader where they have both known eachother for a long time, reader goes to visit him (but having to obviously go through every door there lmao) and they hang out but for no reason, mid-conversation they lean over and kiss painters screen and continue talking like nothing happened and he's just overheating XD

(i love your painter work to death, please continue writing for him or it'll be my funeral tomorrow, please please please, keep writing it's amazing n beautiful PLEASE)

𓋜⠀⠀⠀i’d always knew i’d find you. <3⠀⠀⠀⠀⨟⠀⠀

ℓ⠀⠀⠀⠀₊⠀⠀⠀⠀extra: painter goes by he/him and reader goes by they/them.⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⟢⠀⠀⠀⠀a/n : CAN SOMEONE CHECK ON ANON FOR ME….YOU OKAY BRO.⠀⠀⠀⠀!

𓋜 ; you stumbled room from room, trying to make it to your friend painter. you were honestly SO. tired from hiding from the monsters you hoped to god that you were about to finally make it to heavy containment where painter was, speaking of him! you and painter has been buddies for awhile now! you always stop by to greet him and have a little chat and catch up on how he’s doing. you’re always worried for the guy whenever new expendables come in his room, he’s particularly violent to them most of the time, yelling at them to stay out of his room, you wished he wasn’t THAT…harsh on them though! but he’s particularly nice to you always, and on your runs the turrets never get in your way, not even good people! in honesty you were glad you didn’t have to deal with them..good people can be annoying sometimes..but you immediately snapped out of your thoughts when you realize you almost walked head first into the heavy containment door…wow..you should really pay attention..

𓋜 ; snapping out of your thoughts about hating good people, you searched for the purple keycard which was on a desk right next to you, cheerfully swiping it off the desk you put the card into the keycard reader which opened both to a heavy metal door, the number read “60” , you could’ve swore that last time you checked you were on door 40…well whatever! you quickly threw the purple keycard somewhere in the room having no need for it anymore. you quickly searched each room, but having no luck finding your buddy. you sighed sadly and went on to the next..and the next…ANDDD the next one…ANDDDD…the next one….pinching your nonexistent nose in annoyance since you still have your diving helmet on, you quickly realized and rolled your eyes, but blinked once you saw those server rooms you remembered you went through each run! you cracked a smile before walking over.

𓋜 ; the metal door quickly opened before you, letting you see the contents of the room, and spotting your buddy painter! painter then snap up as soon as he heard the door open, getting ready to say a sassy remark to the next expendable, before he realized it was you! painter’s screen switched to an annoyed face to a happy one! he quickly said “ooohhh!! reader your back again!” painter said cheerfully, you smiled before taking off your diving helmet and setting it down on a nearby desk, you said “hey painter! how have you been doing?” you said gleefully before strolling over to him, painter happily responded talking about his day, you listening carefully and nodding, times like these are the best thing ever, just enjoying each other’s company and talking about anything and everything.

𓋜 ; you asked about his paintings, and he gleefully starting telling you on every piece he was working on, sometimes stumbling over his words for a moment trying to tell you every detail! you don’t mind him rambling at all! it’s almost endearing in a way…you thought of something for a moment, smiling mischievously, “oh and! about that one art piece i was making for— “ you leaned down and kissed his screen, painter stopped talking and it was almost like his screen was lagging, but you started gushing over happily about his paintings and skills, painter looked at you like he was the happiest computer in the world, he could feel his systems overheating quite a lot…by the minute..he only said “whaa…—“ before shutting off, you quickly realized and you spoke “uhh..painter..?” , “PAINTER!” you yelled before running over to him.

A/N : can’t let a fellow painter fan die🔥🔥🔥

[thewanderingmask]

my submission for the hermitcraft season 10 fan art gallery: Xisuma Eternal! (actual size on left, embiggened version on right)

there are a ton of little thoughts that went into this and i will now go off about them at length (ramble under the cut)

let's start with the image layout and composition! my first idea was to do an homage to the original doom box art because of X's skin, but ultimately I decided on referencing this Eternal cover (hence the title of the piece) because it sparked some stronger ideas in my brain.

i still wanted to keep that link to the original though, so i did my very best to emulate the original logo with X's name - replacing the original texture with binary as one of many references to X's role supporting the technical side of the server.

(for no reason other than my own amusement, the binary in the letters is translated lyrics from X's verse in the hermit gang song. i don't even know how much of that is still visible after lining the letters, but i liked putting it there)

i've only been watching hermitcraft for a few months, and there's an awful lot of history i don't know about. so i focused on doing my best celebrating builds X has worked on here in season 10! i would have loved to include his base as well, but ultimately i ran out of room.

(there are still a few nods to other seasons based on knowledge i've acquired through osmosis. evil X is the most obvious, but i was also able to sneak in a couple small carvings next to the X in the title text!)

coming back around to xisuma's work on the technical side, that's why Evil X is backed by error windows. it's also why xisuma is holding a toolbox! it was the best visual metaphor i could come up with for the digital job of maintenance and repair.

(and of course he has a lovely cup of tea as well)

the allays (holding redstone) are partially in reference to farms X has been making, partially bringing back in that angelic/demonic vibe of Doom, and mostly because their intended role of supporters and helpers feels very thematically appropriate for X.

the lines in the sky are of course meant to evoke the shapes of mace race, and the black cube is a minecraft-ified version of the Soulside Eclipse logo.

(if you're not familiar, that's xisuma's music! it's good!! give it a listen sometime! it's on youtube!)

the silverfish at the very bottom are visual reference to the demon hordes of Doom - and of course they're also much more directly referencing X's very clever prank in impulse's city.

finally, on the walls of spawn we have the carved symbols - one for every other hermit. i remember X mentioning in a stream once something about fulfillment from supporting others. (i apologise if i'm remembering less than clearly.) it just felt like if i wanted to represent X, it felt important to include them as well.

and of course it made me happy to do something for Every hermit, since all of them

(smallishbeans/joel was actually the one i got most stuck on! there wasn't really a single item or symbol i could think of to narrow him down to. ultimately i decided on a torii gate and a little letter J, but i'm honestly still thinking about it)

ah right, and the Actual last thing: this turner out to be totally unnecessary, but i absolutely did draw this in the minecraft map hex code colours. it's a tricky palette to work with, and i learned a LOT about pixel art while trying to get the sky to look nice!

this piece took about 10 days to complete, maybe the longest i've ever spent on a single illustration like this - and honestly, i'm really happy and pretty proud of how it turned out!!

[zedif-y]

Joel wakes up screaming.

His first thought, honestly, isn’t very coherent. A mishmash of need more time and a throat-tearing scream escaping him as he opens his eyes to–

His scream dies down. Joel looks around– at least, he thinks he’s looking around. Hard to tell when it’s all pitch black and he can’t see a thing, is he sure his eyes are working–?

Joel brings a hand to his face, “Did I go blind– What the heck!”

His voice comes out shrill, a hair away from a shriek (because no, it wasn’t a shriek, it was all manly and stuff, thank you.) as his hand kind of– it kinda–

He knows where his head is. Obviously. Be a bit weird if he didn’t. He knows where his head is, and he knows where his hand is. Both are important. So when he reached towards his head, right, gotta see if there’s a cloth over his eyes, or if he’s gone blind or whatever stupid thing must’ve happened to him after… After he…

His thoughts go fuzzy for a second, like that feeling you get when you think you’ve forgotten something but can’t remember what. Like knowing the shape of something you’ve lost, its absence so pressing that it chokes you like sand, clogging your lungs with each second it's gone but what the heck is it–?!

Where was he, again?

Oh. Right. He was freaking out.

The point is– because there was a point, right before things got all weird there– his hand went through his head.

It… He doesn’t even know how to explain it. It felt like… Not much, really. Didn’t feel like anything. But that’s the issue with it, the issue of something should be there, like skin and muscle and bone and perhaps even a brain. But instead, Joel put his hand where his face should be and he felt nothing, no matter how hard he tried, how far he reached and pushed and–

Joel wants to scream. Or laugh. Or cry. Either of the three, though preferably not that last one.

It’s so weird. He just wants…

There it is again. That feeling. The clawing, desperate something in his chest that twists and writhes–

“Hey, Joel.”

Joel screams. (First option, then.)

Jimmy just stares at him, unimpressed. His sunglasses are blocking his eyes.

For some reason, it makes Joel want to cry.

Jimmy sighs, “Are you done?” Joel gapes at him.

Are you serious, “Am I d– What the heck, Jimmy?” He snaps, “Don’t sneak up on me like that, I’m not bloody Grian–”

Since when did Jimmy get so quiet, anyway?

“Of course you’re not Grian,” Jimmy says, his voice all weird. Off. “It’d be easier if you were. He’s already moved on.”

Joel’s hackles rise, “What d’you mean it’d be easier?” He snarls, like snapping teeth. “And he hasn’t moved on, he’s just–”

“Looking for new friends?” Jimmy deadpans. Joel’s jaw clicks shut. “ ‘s what I thought.”

Oh, Joel wants to punch him in the–

Wait a second.

It comes back to him then, slamming into him like a wave. The bubbling, helpless laughter in his chest as he leaps and runs across a flimsy dirt bridge. The way he knows he’s fallen before, fallen a million different times and came out both dead and alive but he doesn’t care.

("–you can't keep doing this–")

He doesn’t (didn’t) care, because why should he, he’s got– he’s got water. He’s got water, like everyone else on this blumin’ server, he’ll live, surely, so there’s no need to be scared.

("–got to let go, eventually, right–?")

No need to worry, even as yellow feathers plummet and disappear from view and lightning strikes where Jimmy’s voice cut off–

“Joel!” Jimmy shouts, practically right in his face. “Joel, are you even listening–?”

This, Joel decides, is not Jimmy.

It's got the shape of Jimmy, sure. Right hair and face and everything. Right voice, right bloody curve of his eyebrows, which makes Joel laugh, because it isn't him.

It can't be. It can't be, because Jimmy's dead. Jimmy's gone, he ran out of time because he fell like an idiot so no, this can't be him, there's no way.

On all levels except physical, Joel can't seem to breathe.

There's no way this is Jimmy, he thinks, just the right amount of hysterical. It's just not possible.

Because if this is him, (and that's a big, gigantic if) then that means– That means wherever he went, Joel followed. Joel followed, and now they're in the Void, or Limbo, or whatever the heck it's called, and that means that Joel–

Joel failed Grian, too.

"You're not Jimmy," He says at last, with his not-there tongue and not-there face. His voice sounds distant. "He'd be like, crying. Screamin' about dying first again, going oh my gosh!" Joel tells Not-Jimmy, pitching his voice up and then laughs, laughs, and laughs.

Until he can't breathe. Until it hurts to.

Until it's not much of a laugh at all.

Light shines on Not-Jimmy's sunglasses. He's still the only thing Joel can see.

Joel reaches out, pretending to see two, shaking hands grab Jimmy by the shoulders. He pretends, thinks about it hard enough that he almost feels the texture of Jimmy's denim under his palms. He thinks, imagines, pretends, whatever, that the fabric crinkles under his touch, that the sob that makes his way past his lips is a laugh as he says, "I'm sorry."

Something wet trickles down his not-there face.

" 'm sorry, Jim," Joel rasps out, and it hurts. "You weren't supposed to– I had a surprise for you, you know?"

Jimmy's voice is quiet, "What kind of surprise?" He asks, and Joel…

Joel thinks he might be falling apart.

(Or maybe, his mind supplies, he shattered a long while ago. Like glass hitting the floor.)

He grins, or at least, he tries to. "I was gonna break your curse," He confesses, with his terrible, trembling mouth. "I was gonna sacrifice myself for you, be all heroic and everything."

Jimmy says nothing. Joel still can't see his eyes.

"I'm sorry."

He's getting tired of pretending.

"Will you come with me now?" Jimmy– Not-Jimmy says, his voice ringing like the toll of a bell. "You've said your piece, not many are afforded that luxury."

Joel blinks. Death stands before him, no sunglasses to cover empty sockets.

For a moment, Joel considers fighting. Again, and again, and again.

But he is so, very tired.

He sighs.

I don't feel very lucky, Joel wants to say. And you still aren't Jimmy. 

"Whatever," He says instead. He feels his entire being slip away like sand, like time held tightly between two fists. "Take me away, or whatever it is you do."

Joel closes his eyes, "I'll tell him when I see him."

[bettyfrommars]

it’s the a7x anon 😘

imagine stripper harlot reader and eddie falls for her (obviously) and he follows her to a club one night. it’s an underground club (got me thinking blood rave from blade) but shes deadly, she sucks the soul out of men in the clubs, poisons them for fun, the club is filled with different types, vampires, wolves, ghouls, but none are more desired or feared than her.

Sympathy for the Devil

eddie x demon!fem!reader

It's the mid-90's and Eddie has moved to Seattle with the rest of Corroded Coffin to get in on the music scene. He sees you one night dancing at a bachelor party and can't seem to stop thinking about you. His hunt for you takes him to a dark part of town where only monsters dare to go. wc: 2.5k

18+ONLY, grunge!eddie, descriptions of monsters, eventual smut, star-crossed lovers, Gareth, reader described as having thick hips and tattoos, exotic dancers, alcohol consumption, breathing fire. Readers dad is basically Hellboy.

Part 1: Great Balls of Fire

Part 2: Mark of the Beast

Part 3: Burn it Down

A/N: There is just so much I want to explore on this topic, I had to turn it into multiple parts. No smut in this chapter, but there will be in the next two, if there are people who want to read it. I love any reason for a good Blade blood shower. I love this anon, and I hope I did some justice to your idea.

-----------

Eddie dropped down into the dark venue on a wing and a prayer, hoping you were working that night.  He didn’t know your schedule, he only knew you from that one night two weeks ago when he was there for Jeff’s bachelor party.  

Out of a sea of beautiful, scantily clad women, you stood out like a flash of  lightning in a pitch black night.

“I can’t believe we’re here again, man,” Gareth complained, swiping his hair out of his face.

“What are you afraid of?” Eddie shouted over his shoulder, hoping to be heard above the throbbing, electronic music. His eyes scanned the crowd for you, or any one he remembered seeing you talk to that first night.  Ahead of them, down the shadowed alcove of the venue were several dancers gyrating on poles and spreading their legs out wide for customers at the rack to hook dollar bills into their g-strings.  

“I’m afraid my girl will cut my nuts off if she finds out I came here with you,” Gareth responded.  

Gareth's hair was shorter than it had been when they were in high school. It was just long enough to tuck behind his ears, but still so full and curly that he had to slick it back.  Eddie’s hair was much longer now, almost to his nipples, and he’d grown his bangs out, so it was more grunge rather than early 80’s metal.  

“We went to see Mudhoney at the Crocodile,” Eddie confirmed. “That’s all you need to tell her.  We only came here to look for someone.”  They had done exactly that, and the Mudhoney show had been amazing. Corroded Coffin’s relocation to Seattle was the best decision Eddie had ever made, and he was grateful his band made the journey with him.  They were all renting this old house on Capitol Hill and getting paying gigs a couple times a month—it was a dream.

But since he’d laid eyes on you—he could barely function.

You had bewitched him in the best of ways.  

So, there he was---dragging Gareth back to the same strip club to look for you.  He honestly didn’t expect to get your number, or even talk to you—he just needed to see you again.��  

Once he reached the dimly lit red cocktail bar, Eddie froze.  ��She’s not here,” he wet his dry lips, getting on the balls of his feet to scan the crowd. “I mean, I don’t see her.”

“Okay, great, "Gareth tried to avert his eyes from the women on stage so that he wouldn’t feel guilty.  “Can we go now?”

But Eddie wasn’t ready to give up that easily.  

“Hey,” he called over to one of the servers he remembered from the last time. She was about to carry a tray of drinks over to a table when she caught his eye and her face lit up.  

Eddie was awkward when he didn't want to be, but on every other occasion—he possessed a decent amount of charm.  Plus, this particular server was a fan of his band, he just didn’t know it.

Eddie stroked some hair behind his ear and leaned closer, giving her your full description, right down to the color of your eyes, and the details of a few of your tattoos, and then asked if you were working that weekend.

The server shook her head, her cheeks burning hot under Eddie's attention.  “Sorry, she’s not here. I think she’s at the Devils Den tonight.”

Eddie squinted at Gareth and the both of them mouthed “the devils den” with a question mark, like they had never heard of it in all of the 2 years they’d been there.  

The Devil’s Den did not advertise.  You could not find it in the phone book.  It was a word of mouth or friend of a friend only, and security was tight.

“Be careful,” the redhead server offered a warning, passing Eddie her phone number on the inside of a gum wrapper with a wink. Gareth rolled his eyes and headed for the door.

Eddie drove Gareth back to his car first.

“You sure you don’t want me to go with?” Gareth asked Eddie over the hood, strumming his fingers on the metal.

“Nah man, I’m good,” Eddie assured him, twirling his keys on his finger as he walked backwards. “You go home to your girl.  I’ll call you tomorrow.”

He remembered the directions the redhead told him as he sucked down a cigarette with the window open, blowing smoke out into the crisp city night.  It took him down through the east end of town, along a tunnel, and then shot him deep into the industrial district.  Vacant buildings loomed like faceless gargoyles as his van rolled along the dismal expanse, void of human life.

The building was unmarked, but the address was correct; he checked it with the numbers inked on his palm several times.  He parked a block away and walked over with his fists shoved deep into the pockets of his leather while scraps of paper and leaves skidded across the pavement.  His long hair flew across his lips and clung there until he peeled the strand back and tucked it behind his ear again.

He could hear the music now, thudding low from inside the building as he rounded the corner.  

There was a purple light coming from the open doorway, and a minotaur man with a thick tail and broad shoulders sat on a stool blowing smoke out his nostrils.  Eddie heard him ask the couple ahead of him to see their IDs, so Eddie got his ready.

You just happened to be on your way out for a smoke when you saw him—-

Him.

The one you couldn’t take your eyes off of two weekends ago. The grungy boy with the long hair you couldn’t stop thinking about.

What was he doing at a monster bar? Did you want him to see you like this? 

Self-consciously, you spun around, ducking your head so he wouldn’t see your horns, wondering if you should try to cover them with your hood and retract your claws. 

Eddie handed the Minotaur bouncer his ID.

“What the fuck you want me to do with this?” The bouncer asked, aggressively standing up to his full height which was close to 7ft.  His voice bellowed, “no humans allowed, can’t you read?” Sure enough, there was a black and white sign on the door that said: NO UNAUTHORIZED HUMANS ALLOWED.

Eddie tucked his ID back in his wallet, about to offer to try and pay the guy off when he saw you appear in the doorway.

“Oh shit,” Eddie whispered to himself.  You were even more stunning than the night he first saw you. Now you have horns? He hadn't noticed them the other weekend at the club; maybe you had them tucked under your wig. He could tell you were different, but he had no idea you were what was known in human circles as a Beastly.  

“He’s with me,” you told the enormous Minotaur man, and Eddie watched him cower before you.  He sat back down on his stool and bowed his head, muttering his apologies.  

He had to remember not to let his jaw hang slack as you walked closer, swaying your hips as you did so, plucking a cigarette out of the pack to pop it into your mouth.  He noticed that what he once thought were tattoos were actually designs that seemed like they were burned into your flesh; they glowed orange in the night as if there was lava flowing in your veins.  

Eddie patted his jacket and his back pockets, forgetting where he put his lighter. Once he found it, his hand was trembling, but he took a breath and cupped his palm over the flame, leaning forward to offer it to you.

You hesitated, searching his rich brown eyes.  His very human eyes: you wanted to watch them sparkle.  “Do you want to see something cool?”

Eddie lowered his hands and poked his tongue out between his teeth. “Always.”

“It might freak you out,” you warned.

“I love getting freaked out.”

You held the cigarette out and blew on the end of it, producing a string of fire from your lungs.  It was a soft, blue flame and Eddie watched the tip of your smoke light up and crackle with embers just as the fire disappeared behind your lips again.

“Party trick,” you took a drag, squinting one eye at him playfully.  

“Can you do mine?” Eddie opened the top pocket of his jacket to pull out a smoke from his pack, while a few more bodies shuffled by on their way to the door.  Two had chalk white skin with fangs, one had the snout of a pig and a green mohawk, and the other looked like she could’ve passed as human, until she stuck her tongue out at one of the other men and it was long and forked, falling almost to her chest.  

They each gave Eddie a suspicious look, but when they saw you standing there, they quickly jerked their stares away.

Eddie gripped the cig between his full lips, and his eyes never left you as you leaned in.  You could’ve produced a flame long enough to reach him where he was, but you decided to step in close, so that your mouth wasn’t far from his.

Your eyes met as you breathed a steady stream of fire.  The thought occurred to you that you could take him right then; you could suck his soul out like juice from a Capri Sun and he’d never know what hit him.  You could drink his essence like oxygen and fill your stomach with his charming warmth—but then you wouldn’t have him anymore, and your heart was screaming louder than your hunger.  

“That’s so rad,” Eddie chuckled.  He took a drag and then blew the smoke out sideways.  “What other tricks do you know?”

“I think it’s your turn to do a trick,” you raised an eyebrow. 

“What could a human possibly do to impress you?”

“I’m sure there are lots of ways you could impress me,” your smile was coy, and it made Eddie’s pupils widen with admiration.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he whispered.

But then one of the ghouls with skin that looked stapled on stepped out of the doorway and said your name.  

“What is it?” You snapped.  Your demeanor changed—your eyes narrowing on her.  

“Sorry,” the ghoul stammered.  “Um, it’s Drucilla—she says there’s a phone call for you.”

“I’ll be right there,” you grumbled, waving her off, but when you turned back to Eddie, your face softened.  “I have to go.  If you’re around later we can—-”

“Yeah, I’ll wait,” Eddie said quickly.  He didn’t know how long the wait would be, and he didn’t care.

You motioned for him to follow you inside, and as he entered, the Minotaur bouncer grumbled: “Sorry about earlier, man.”

“It’s all good,” Eddie clapped him on his big, beefy shoulder.

There was a band at the back of the venue playing something that reminded him of Alice in Chains, and Eddie felt right at home.  Everyone turned in his direction, and he followed close behind as you traveled down a few carpeted steps to the long, low-lit bar along the wall.  Your tail flicked from side to side as you walked, and he smiled to himself when he noticed it.  

You swatted the bar with your hand to get Danny’s attention.  The wolfman bartender stopped the conversation he was having mid-sentence and rushed over, a furry hand swiping hair away from his beard.  

“He’s with me,” you told Danny, motioning over your shoulder to a bewildered Eddie.  “Anyone fucks with him, and I’ll rip their head off.”

You meant it literally, and Danny knew that.  

“I’ll keep an eye on your pet,” Danny nodded as he cleaned a glass with a towel.  He made eye contact with Eddie and ran his tongue over his sharp canines.

Eddie sank down onto a stool at the bar and watched you go, his heart hammering in his chest.  There were two exotic dancers in cages on either side of the dancefloor, and one looked like she had reptilian skin with an alligator tail.  The action on the main floor was more of a mosh pit than actual dancing, and he knew the guys from his band would dig this place.  He wondered what you would think of his music if you saw him perform; maybe he could do a few tricks for you on stage. He wanted to look out and see you in the crowd and know you were his.

“What can I get you?” Danny asked, flipping a coaster in front of Eddie with a flourish.  

Flustered at his choices, Eddie ordered a beer, and then he leaned in.  “Hey, what is her story? Why does everyone seem so…afraid of her?”

“You mean you don’t know who she is?” Danny raised both bushy eyebrows at him as he popped the cap on his beer. 

Eddie shrugged, eyes dancing over the wall of bottles.  “I have no idea, man.  This isn’t my scene.”

Danny came forward and put his hairy forearms on the bar.  “Yeah well, her dad is the head Devil in charge of all of this,” he gestured around.  “He runs the underground Beast Mob, and everyone is scared shitless of him.”  Danny scooted Eddie’s beer forward, giving him a pointed look.  “And you should be too.  He hates humans.”

Eddie swallowed hard.  “I’m pretty good with parents,” he mumbled. 

He sat there for a while and sipped his beer, taking in the scenery and the other monsters, when he caught sight of you weaving your way back through the crowd.  Everyone you walked by seemed to beg to touch you or talk to you; a couple of them even bowed.  He wanted to have you on his arm, to feel the fire from your lungs burn his skin.

“Hey,” the person behind Eddie tapped his shoulder, and Eddie spun around to find an orc-looking guy with two tusks jutting up from his bottom teeth.  

“Yeah, man, what’s up?” 

The bartender glanced over Eddie’s shoulder at you, and then regarded him with a nod.  “Be careful with that one, son.  She will feast on your soul and drain you dry.”

Eddie turned to see you watching him from across the way, and you offered a shy wave.  Your short horns looked sharp and ready for battle; the marks in your skin glowed like neon.

Eddie sighed wistfully.  “Damn, I really hope so.”

[dawnisatotalqueen]

you would bet on it? // min ho x reader

character: min ho

show: xo kitty

tags: frenemies to lovers, gender neutral reader, work place romance

warnings: maybe ooc?? i don't think so but yk, cursing, might have done some heavy self inserting oops

Kitty peaked around a corner, her head darting right and left before she proceeded down an alleyway.

It was just her luck that three boys were standing at a nearby building when they saw her sneaking around. Min ho raised a brow. “What on Earth is she doing?” His words caught Q and Dae’s attention, and they both turned around to watch.

“Maybe she’s just.. Meeting someone?” Dae chuckled nervously, trying to think of a perfectly logical and ethical reason Kitty was sneaking through an alleyway.

Min ho raised a brow. “Or buying drugs. We should follow her.”

Q shook his head, snickering lightly. “You just wanna follow her because you’re nosy.”

Min ho raised his hands in defense. “Sue me– Now let’s go.” He pivoted, going down the same alleway Kitty went down. Dae and Q shared a look before following him.

Kitty walked along for a while, much to two of the boys’ relief, exiting the alley after a short time and heading a way that was much more normal. She was acting oddly suspicious, though.

After some time, she arrived in front of…

A restaurant?

The three boys looked at each other with confused faces before continuing to the entrance.

Kitty walked inside, waiting up at the host stand for a second before you approached her with a grin. “Kitty! Good to see you, you can–” You paused immediately when spotting a very, very amused Min ho.

“You work at a restaurant, seriously?” He chuckled, raising a brow down at you.

Kitty whipped her head around, “Wh– Did you– You followed me?!”

Q and Dae quickly went in upon the realization that Min ho had blown their cover, Dae walking to the other side of Kitty. “We were just worried– You were acting really suspiciously–”

“We thought you could’ve been buying drugs.” Min ho grinned.

Kitty gawked at him. “What– That’s so stupid–”

You cleared your throat, crossing your arms. “What the hell are you guys doing here–” Before you could properly question the boys, you spotted your manager walking over. You blew out an irritated breath before putting on a fake smile. “How many in your party tonight?”

Min ho was loving this way too much. “Oh, just the four of us.” You so desperately wanted to wipe the smug look off of his face, but alas… You did value your job.

“Great!” You spoke through clenched teeth, grabbing four menus from behind you. “You can follow me right this way.” You took them to a section belonging to a server who had just arrived, so it was completely empty. After they sat down and you advertised your company’s rewards system with very red cheeks, your manager finally stopped watching you. Immediately upon their eyes being taken off of you, you exploded. “What the hell are you guys doing here?!”

“Kitty was acting weird. We swear we didn’t know she was coming here.” Q explained, chuckling nervously. He didn’t particularly like the idea of two of his best friends being upset with him over one of Min ho’s dumb ideas.

Min ho leaned back in his seat. “And I’m glad we did. Otherwise, we never would’ve learned of this little secret.” He motioned to your uniform, which caused your cheeks to go redder.

“Well, I’m sorry but not all of us can go through life completely supported by our ‘Mummy’s’.” You mimicked his accent toward the end, huffing. “Some of us actually have to support ourselves.”

Min ho rolled his eyes. “Right, like it’s so hard.”

You gawked at him. “Min ho, you would not survive a customer service job. Honestly, I would bet on it.”

This intrigued him, and he quickly leaned forward in his seat, turning to face you. “Oh, you would bet on it? Really?”

“Mhm. You would not survive in the restaurant industry.”

Min ho hummed. “Well, if you’re so confident, then let’s bet.”

“Fine. If I win?”

“I’ll do anything you ask of me. No objections.”

“Hm.. Okay. And if you win?”

“Same thing. Whatever I ask of you. Zero objections.”

Though you didn’t like the idea of Min ho being able to hold something over your head, you were confident enough that you felt comfortable despite the stakes. After a moment, you spoke. “Fine. Deal.”

Min ho grinned. “Deal. I’m looking forward to winning this bet.”

“In your dreams.” You rolled your eyes at him, backing away to finally allow the server to do their job. On your way out of the section, you caught Kitty who mouthed a “Sorry”. You shook your head, waving your hand at her in dismissal. Really, Kitty had done you a favor. Now you had the chance to one up Min ho.

After further discussion over text, you spoke to your manager about a friend who wanted to come in for an interview. Lucky for you, your shop was severely understaffed due to a mass of server’s quitting, so the manager didn’t hesitate to hire Min ho.

His first day was an absolute wreck.

He spilled a salsa bowl on him, which to anyone else would be a mere inconvenience, but to Min ho, it was the end of the world.

“I just bought these pants!! They're designer!!"

You shrugged. “It’s your own fault. Maybe you shouldn’t be so clumsy.” You were admittedly being hypocritical as you had broken and spilled your fair share of things on especially busy nights where you had to help.

“I hate you.”

You grew very familiar with those 3 words the more you worked with Min ho. His first few weeks, he let everything get to him. The customers, the messes, the way he smelled after work. Restaurant smell. You’d grown accustomed to it, so you hadn’t even considered that to be something that would’ve bothered him.

Much to your surprise though, he was very good at the customer service aspect. In some ways, it made sense. He had a way with acting charming, and he was fluent in Korean, which helped with the locals. He also only kept his complaints to when the two of you would be walking to the dorms together once you got off.

The thing that surprised you most, though, was how much you enjoyed spending time with him. You were used to server’s coming up and talking to you on slower days, the host stand often being a hangout place. You assumed Min ho picked up on it as he had suddenly begun hanging around there, too, when his section was deserted.

He waited for you after work. Even when he had been cut and could’ve gone home earlier. He excused it that you shouldn’t be walking alone at night. You didn’t really care about his motives, but you appreciated it. It was a nice gesture.

After 2 months, he still didn’t quit. You were beginning to worry he’d want to cash in his prize for the bet since it seemed like he had no intentions of losing. What would he make you do? The options were endless. You still had a slight hope that you could win but…

At the same time, you didn’t. You liked working with him more than you thought you would, it would be a little disappointing if he quit.

One night, though, his unwillingness to quit was really proven.

He had scheduled a date a few weeks in advance with some famous girl or something, you weren’t sure. But, he had also forgotten that he had a shift that same night.

He was up by the host stand, talking with you when he felt his phone buzz. He looked around to ensure your manager wasn’t near before he picked up.

“Hello?” After a few seconds his eyes widened. “That was tonight? Oh– I’m so sorry I must’ve forgotten, I–” He was cut off and a few more seconds passed where you heard muffled speaking through the phone. “I’m at work. Wait– Oh.” He said your restaurant’s address before he was hung up on. He blinked for a moment before putting his phone away.

You raised a brow. “What was that?”

He ran a hand through his hair. “I forgot I had a date tonight.”

“Oh. Well, if you need I’m sure one of the other servers could cover for you, I mean, even I can–”

“No!” You paused, blinking up at him. He shook his head. “No. What if we get busy? The dinner rush hasn’t even come in yet! I can’t desert you like that.”

You felt a blush creeping up your neck. He couldn’t desert you like that?

Before you could question his wording, a very pretty girl walked up to the two of you, clearing her throat. “Min ho, are you ready to go?”

The girl rolled her eyes, pulling out a small mirror and lip gloss. “Yeah, and? You don’t need a job, Min ho. We can just leave. It doesn’t matter.”

Min ho looked over. “What? I told you I was at work–”

He shook his head. “But it does. It’s a responsibility.”

The girl glanced at him before putting away her things, grinning. “Responsibility? When did you get so mature? It’s hot.. But seriously. Let’s go.”

Min ho groaned, a hand going over his face. “I already said–”

Before you could stop yourself, the words were already leaving your mouth. “I think he already said he wasn’t going.”

The girl looked at you, scoffing. “And you are?”

Min ho stepped in front of you, crossing his arms. “They’re my coworker and friend. Plus, they’re right. I told you I couldn’t go already.”

The girl clenched her fists before putting her hands on her hips. She stared at the two of you for a second before huffing. “Fine. Fine! I’ll leave. But I’m texting you later to reschedule.” She glared at you, then turned around, heading back out.

You looked between him and her figure, which disappeared into a car.

There’s one thing she said that you agreed with.

This new maturity was hot.

A few hours later, the two of you were walking back to the dorms together. You sighed dramatically. “Y’know what– Fine. Fine!”

He raised a brow. “What are you on about?”

“Fine, you win.” You stopped walking. “You win the bet.”

He stared at you for a second before his brows raised. “Oh. Right. That.”

“Don’t tell me you forgot.”

He shrugged, his hands going to his pockets. “I guess I did. But, hey. I told you I could do it.” His nonchalant expression turned into a grin.

You rolled your eyes. “Well..”

“Well?”

“What do you want? I agreed to do anything you wanted. No objections.”

He thought to himself for a second. “Hm… I’ll need to think on it.” He kept walking.

You gawked at him, whining and following him. “Min ho– That’s not fair! Now I’m gonna have to walk on eggshells!”

“Ooh well.”

The two of you continued your walk, and you continued to pester him to no avail. By the time you got home, Kitty had retreated to her room, so you went to yours. You got ready for bed, flopping down with a hum. You grabbed your phone off your bedside table when you saw a text from Min ho.

min ho: okay, i’ve made up my mind.

min ho: i want..

Min ho: a date.

Min ho: this friday. i’ll pick you up at 6.

Wait.

WHAT?!

[seriouslycromulent]

The Surprising Reason John Larroquette Took His Career-Defining Role on 'Night Court'

The comedy ninja reveals all this week's 'Parade' cover story.

MARA REINSTEIN

UPDATED:JAN 19, 2023

Get in a car and drive about 30 miles north of Portland, Oregon, into southwest Washington. That’s where you’ll find actor John Larroquette.

He and his wife, Elizabeth, have lived on a piece of rural property for about five years. He collects books and likes to narrate plays in his home recording studio. Sometimes the couple head into the city to try new restaurants and go to the theater and concerts. “It’s really beautiful,” he says. “And at my age, it’s time to slow down and be out somewhere.”

In fact, Larroquette is so fond of his far-from-Hollywood lifestyle that not too long ago, he considered himself retired from the business with a fulfilling career and a room full of trophies to show for it. Never did he think he’d return to grueling TV work, let alone reprise the very role that made him a household name.

Guess what happened next?

Yup, Larroquette, 75, is suiting back up as wise-cracking, endearingly smarmy lawyer Dan Fielding in a new version of the irreverent sitcom Night Court (premiering Jan. 17 on NBC). Set decades after the 1984-92 original, it still chronicles the colorful cast of characters passing through the New York City after-hours courtroom. But now, the Honorable Abby Stone (Melissa Rauch), the daughter of Judge Harry T. Stone (Harry Anderson), bangs the gavel.

Fielding starts the series as a process server, though not for long. “As an actor, I thought it would be an interesting idea to revisit a character 35 years later in his life and see what happened to him,” Larroquette says. “I can’t do the physical comedy and jump over chairs anymore, so my conversations with the producers were about how to find the funny.”

Call it the latest unexpected turn for a seasoned star who began his professional journey as a DJ for “underground” radio in the 1960s, moved from his native New Orleans to Los Angeles to jumpstart his career, once took a gig in exchange for marijuana, played a Klingon in the third Star Trek movie and completed rehab to kick his heavy drinking—all before his very first audition for Night Court in 1983. After the sitcom’s last episode, he won his fifth Emmy (for the drama The Practice) and a 2011 Tony for the Broadway revival of How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying. He and Elizabeth, wed for 47 years, have three grown children.

“I honestly wish I had a tape recorder going at all times because he’s led such an interesting life and has such wonderful stories,” marvels Rauch, his co-star and a Night Court executive producer. “He’s super-quick, funny and definitely tells it like it is.”

Exhibit A? His interview with Parade, in which he discusses life and death, and everything in between.

Did you sign on to the series right away or was it a tough sell?

When Melissa [Rauch] presented the idea to me, I immediately said, “No thank you.” I didn’t like the idea of being compared to my 35-year-old, younger self. These conversations went on for a year. Then, one day, she told me that she wanted to be on-camera as well, so I decided to try and do it. We ended up pitching the show together, and it got picked up. You know, in New Orleans, there’s a French word called “lagniappe,” which means “a little bonus.” That’s what I consider myself. She’s the heart of the show.

Sadly, a few of your co-stars—including Harry Anderson and Markie Post—have died in recent years. What was it like being on the set without them?

Very emotional. Harry passed away in 2018, but it’s still a tender spot in my heart because he and I were together for a long time even outside of work. Markie and I were very close, and we had exchanged a few emails about the show before she died [in 2021]. She was a big cheerleader for it. And Charlie [Robinson, who played the clerk “Mac”] died when we were shooting the pilot last year. I saw him a lot because we both love the theater. Being on the set—I don’t say this glibly—but it was like seeing dead people. I’d always remember how I had this bizarre and completely sincere family for nine years.

Going back to the 1980s, why did you originally take the Dan Fielding role?

It was a paycheck. This was 1983, and I was still a journeyman actor going from job to job. I was a regular on a series in the ‘70s [Baa Baa Black Sheep], but then I took a few years off to do some extremely heavy drinking. After I got sober and realized I wasn’t going to die, I thought, “What am I going to do?” I had been in a pretty big [1981] movie called Stripes with Bill Murray. I read for Ted Danson’s role in Cheers.

Wait, how far did you get in the Sam Malone casting process?

Oh, I just walked in and did a cold reading along with every other 32-year-old actor at the time. But then I auditioned for the judge in Night Court. The producers asked me to read for this other role of Dan Fielding and I said, “Sure.” Even if I hated the role, I would have taken it because I needed to make money to help pay the rent and support my family and be a responsible member of society. It was luck that I really liked it. Then I got lucky again when NBC picked up the show as a mid-season replacement.

During the height of the show’s popularity, you earned four consecutive Emmys for your performance. That must have felt beyond validating.

Obviously, being acknowledged by your contemporaries was an incredible honor. I don’t say that blithely. It was a remarkable, remarkable feeling. And I was up against some formidable talent—mainly all those guys from Cheers.

Why do you think the character was and is so appealing?

I think because he allowed the audience to know that he wasn’t a bad guy. He was more like a feckless buffoon. He also really wanted to be loved. As a matter of fact, in our pitch, we screened an old scene of Fielding in a hospital bed telling Harry, “I don’t have a life; I have a lifestyle. Nobody has ever said, ‘I love you.’” So when we find Fielding again, he’s loved and lost. And Harry’s daughter forces him out of his cave. It’s a real full-circle moment.

Let’s go back to your own start. Did you have any music skills coming out of New Orleans?

Well, I started playing clarinet in third grade, then I moved to the saxophone in the 1960s. But I euphemistically say that I could talk better than I could blow. So, I took that sax out of my mouth and became a DJ and started using my voice as much as I could. I’ve always loved the analog aspect of audio. I still have some reel-to-reel tape recordings and old microphones.

Is that how you ended up narrating the opening prologue for [the 1974 horror classic] The Texas Chainsaw Massacre?

No, no, that wasn’t through any kind of past work. In the summer of ‘69, I was working as a bartender at a small Colorado resort in a little town called Grand Lake because I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with my life. [Director] Tobe Hooper happened to be in town and we became friendly. Flash forward four years, and I found myself in L.A. collecting unemployment checks and trying to decide if I wanted to be an actor. Tobe heard I was in town and asked for an hour of my time to narrate something for this movie he just did. I said, “Fine!” It was a favor.

Per the Internet, he gave you a joint in lieu of payment. True?

Totally true. He gave me some marijuana or a matchbox or whatever you called it in those days. I walked out of the studio and patted him on his back side and said, “Good luck to you!” Now, I have also narrated the consequential films and did get paid. You do something for free in the 1970s and get a little money in the ‘90s. I’m not a big horror movie fan, so I’ve never seen it. But it’s certainly the one credit that’s stuck strongly to my resume.

But you’ve appeared on the big screen plenty of times. Did you have movie-star aspirations following all your TV success?

The movies I’ve done are mostly forgettable. Blind Date [from 1987] is an exception, but that’s because of Bruce Willis and Kim Basinger. And Blake Edwards directed it. It was funny. But my face is not made for a really big screen. It’s a broad, clown-like face. It’s good for a TV two-shot. And you ride the horse in the direction that it’s going and television was always right there and offering me stuff, so I kept doing that.

You also performed in a musical for the first time in How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying in 2010. How was that change of pace?

I was hesitant to do it because I had never sung and danced on stage. I was convinced I was going to be fired in the first two or three weeks. I’d keep going in my head, “five, six, seven, eight!” just trying to get the steps down. But I loved the lifestyle of being a stage actor in New York. I loved working with Daniel Radcliffe, and we became fast friends. It got to a point where I couldn’t wait to get to the theater and try it again that night. If you’re given the opportunity to do something that may be a stretch, I think it’s important to try and see if you can pull it off.

Can you talk a bit about your personal life? You seem a little reclusive.

Reclusive isn’t accurate, but I’m definitely an introvert. Elizabeth and I met doing the play Enter Laughing and got married in 1975. She puts up with me, and you can’t ask for much more than that. Our kids are grown. My daughter Lisa is a graphic designer and my son Jonathan has had a podcast for the past 17 years called Uhh Yeah Dude. And my youngest son, Ben, is a musician who graduated from the Berklee School of Music. He actually composed the new theme music for Night Court. They’re all lovely, and I love them dearly.

That’s quite a professional and personal success story, no?

You know, considering where I’m from and the kind of culture I grew up in, yes. I’ve been very successful in my chosen field. And I’m grateful for having done that because there were times when I thought I would not live, much less have a career. It’s nothing to be taken for granted. But I’m very old now. Three quarters of a century. I’m sort of playing with house money from now on, regardless of what happens.

Sorry, but 75 isn’t very old!

Yes, it’s old. It’s old. Please. It’s old. There are certainly people who live longer, but I can go down the list of wonderful friends and coworkers who are now deceased. One being Kirstie Alley, my costar in [the 1990 comedy] Madhouse, who was younger than I am. She was a lovely person, and so funny. There are only a few more exits on the freeway and you’ve got to choose one. But I’m not afraid of the hereafter and I don’t bemoan it. It’s been an interesting ride, and all rides eventually end.

Do you have any sort of words to live by?

As corny as it sounds, take things one day at a time. You know, I learned when I stopped drinking at age 32 that all you have is right now. Use the present in your life as much as you can.

Source: https://parade.com/celebrities/john-larroquette-night-court-cover-story

-----

My thoughts (please feel free to ignore):

I'm sure someone in the fandom has already posted this interview John did last year with Parade magazine when the new Night Court premiered. But I can say that it's new to me, so I'm sharing it in case it's new to someone else too.

I apologize for the highlighted purple sections above. That's just me marking the parts of the interview that resonated with me the most.

I don't know about anyone else, but some parts of his answers to the questions made me feel kind of sad. Partially because he's clearly experiencing grief at the loss of his friends. And partially because John himself may not be with us for much longer (although I hope I'm wrong and he beats Betty White to 100).

But I was talking to my mother about some of his answers, and she said that as someone who has reached an age milestone herself, she understands his perspective. And I guess I do too.

It's important to remember that in any other profession, John would likely be retired by now. So we should really be grateful for any roles he takes or public appearances he makes, and hope that his days ahead are filled with the calm, joy and laughter that he so rightly deserves.

[mmoneystones]

𝐓𝐎𝐀 𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐲 M𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐲!

Celebrating TOA and the people who contribute to make our group what it is.

Repost, don't reblog. Only fill in what you feel comfortable sharing!

Happy anniversary, TOA! Here's to many more years spent together.

Name: Neku

Pronouns: he/they

Birthday (no year): Feb 24th

Where are you from? What is your time zone? North-Eastern NY with an EST time zone!

How long is your roleplay experience? About 2+ years now likely, with about half a year on indie and the rest from Discord RP (AKA just TOA)

How were you introduced to roleplaying as a whole? Okay this is always a really funny story because when I was around 15 or so I was really getting into Puyo Puyo, both because funny puzzle game but the characters were actually really cool! Then like one of my random friends from that community had the idea for RP/worldbuilding and the rest is history I guess?? I don't do Puyo RP anymore but it was a nice start. c:

How were you introduced to TOA? After my indie experience went down the drain I stayed in contact with most of my close Tumblr FE RP friends and that included gamer N. He told me about TOA a while back before, but I only considered joining really after I started getting used to college life.

Do you have any pets? No, my only pet were like carnival goldfish that....yeah :(

What is your favorite time of year and why? (Season, holiday, general period) Start of spring because while I like the colder seasons I feel sick AGAIN so I think the spring period is just my safest one.

What is your IRL occupation? University student until I learn what the hell I want to do with my life.

Some interests and things you like/enjoy? Small interests in music theory, game design, mathematics, musicals, uh....gaming. Yeah, gaming.

What non-Fire Emblem games do you play? Smash Bros, Splatoon, The World Ends With You, Touhou Project, Trails/Kiseki, Celeste, a lot more Nintendo, honestly insert a lot of roguelikes here

Favorite Pokemon type & Pokemon: I'm such a fake pokemon fan I stopped playing after Gen 6 but the Steel type is cool and Empoleon my beloved.

Tell us some funfacts and trivia about yourself! (Optional bonus challenge: if you filled this out last year, try not to repeat what you said back then!)

1) I have moderated a Touhou gacha server. Am I proud of it? No. 2) I can do a T-spin. I think that's pretty cool 3) I can beat Punch-Out on the Wii in a single session. It's probably easy to do but I love that game okay.

How did you get into Fire Emblem? Brother showed me FE7 on a totally legal GBA and I was like "wow cool!" Also Smash.

What Fire Emblem games have you played? It's on my mun page but I've played every (remade) FE game outside of FE5 (which I'm currently completing), 3 Hopes, and TMS. Quit FEH after like year 2.

First & Favorite Fire Emblem games: First would be both FE7 and Awakening, favorites are FE15, FE9, and (until I lose the adrenaline) FE4.

List your 5 favorite Fire Emblem characters across the series! Okay 5 is a large ask when you say favorites but uhhhhh Mae, Ike, Anna, Flora, Shamir. They can fight over the top 5 spots like a battle royale.

Who was the first character ever to make you go “ooh I like this one in particular” and why? Can be any context and reason! Going off FE7 being my first I'd probably call out Marcus because haha strong earlygame prepromote go zoom. Fortunately that almost works depending on the FE game.

Any Fire Emblem crushes? 😳 Ayra. Yeah.

If you’ve played (or are familiar with) the following games, who was your first S support? Who would you S support nowadays? I don't really care much for the S Support mechanic so I'm just writing these to call out my tastes. Probably no one I'd really consider to do with nowadays. - Awakening: Tiki - Fates: Honestly I cannot remember for the life of me for my sake I hope it was like Setsuna. Edit: fuck it was definitely Kagero. - Three Houses: Shamir - Engage: Ivy

Favorite Fire Emblem class? Pegasus Knight!

If you were a Fire Emblem character, what would be your class and stats? Would you be playable? I don't want to be one but I'd likely be some armor class with axes or swords. I'd be playable with really middling stats so I'm either benched or the subject of a FE video essay on "why splorgius the axe knight is UNDERRATED???"

If you were a Three Houses character, what would be your affiliation? (Black Eagles, Blue Lions, Golden Deer, Church of Seiros, Those Who Slither in the Dark, unaffiliated civilian, other - for example Almyran) Golden Deer YIPPEE

If you were an Officers Academy student, what would be your boons, banes and potential budding talent? Boons: Lance, Gauntlets, Flying; Banes: Axe, Faith, Heavy Armor; Budding Talent: Authority

If you were an Engage character, which nation would you originate from? (Firene, the Kingdom of Abundance; Brodia, the Kingdom of Might; Elusia, the Kingdom of Knowledge; Solm, the Queendom of Freedom; Lythos, the holy land of the Divine Dragon; Gradlon, the desolate land of the Fell Dragon) Brodia so I can convince Citrinne to donate to the commoners (it won't work.)

How do you pronounce TOA? 🤔(separate letters, to-ah, other?) N has made me say To-Ah but if I am not being hypnotized it's separate letters.

Current TOA muses: Citrinne, Lene, Yuzu

Past TOA muses? Mae, Shamir, Sonya, Faye, Anna (FEH), Flora

Who was your first TOA muse? If you no longer have them, can you see yourself picking them up again? Mae, and I honestly could see it but only if other muses weren't picking so hard at my brain right now.

Do you believe you have a type of character you gravitate towards writing? (If you filled this out last year, has this changed in any way?) N has called me out for my sadgirl schtick, and...yeah. I think I've strayed from women that outright have traumatic moments define them, but it definitely is a sore spot in their lives. Unless you're Yuzu. You'd win.

Do you have characters or types of characters you don’t think you can handle writing, but wish you could? So this used to be like any single noble muse due to the inevitable struggle of writing around politics but I think Citrinne has been doing well sooooo let's just go with what the people want. Neku the male does not think he can write other men.

What kind of scenes, situations etc do you believe you enjoy writing the most? (If you filled this out last year, has this changed in any way?) I still don't feel like I gravitate toward any real scenario but nowadays I have gotten less scared of dialogue to the point where I enjoy moments that allow muses to just talk to one another and bounce off each other.

Do you have any scenario in mind for your muse(s) that gets you thinking “man I hope I get to write this one day”? Nothing sticks to my mind right now for Citrinne; for Yuzu I need her mind to implode from Fates' route shenanigans; for Lene I need her to meet her mother :)

Favorite TOA-related memories? At this point it'd be Ball 2024 and Happyland since those are my most recent event memories. The mini-event I did with Sonya was very precious too.

Present or past tense? Try my darnest to keep it to present and I'm so sorry when it flops.

Normal size text, small text, no preference? I prefer to keep it to normal text when writing on my own end, never really saw the point for small, but I don't mind what others use.

Got any potential muse delusions to share? 😉 You know who you are.

[lhazaar]

Hey I was in that server but I didn't see the post before it was deleted, just the aftermath, what happened? The explanation of the screenshots is so vague and the reaction by mods has been uncomfortable, then I noticed a lot of the main people I'd see active in server have left so I'm very concerned

ty for your patience while i wrote this up, anon

short explanation: there was interpersonal stuff going on behind the scenes at the same time and everything exploded at once. liza has been a shitty friend and i'm angry about it because it's hurt people i care about. she has also been going around to everyone she can trying to drum up sympathy because she doesn't know how to handle her own emotions without getting external validation and, when the people that she farms for that validation have their own lives, it's a huge personal betrayal. this spilled over into the server because she was talking a ton of shit behind everyone's backs about how she thought calling out racism was annoying and she didn't realize that people can be friends independently of her, so of course we talk to each other. people started comparing notes on what she was telling them and how she was acting and they realized it didn't match up.

so here's the post in the server that was deleted:

i wasn't involved with its writing, to be clear; i like micah but we're independent people. i also wasn't in the server at this point because liza preemptively banned both me and one of my partners, who had not spoken to her at all and was uninvolved in this.

what micah's talking about in this post is that liza has been mean about both him and jupiter behind their backs for ages because, during a hades 2 stream, they started talking about the game's whitewashing problems/racism/fatphobia. liza turned around and went to one of my loved ones in a voice call immediately afterwards to complain about how it "wasn't the time or place" and how they were being, yknow, sooo negative when she was just trying to enjoy something. in multiple other conversations, she would complain about people talking about racism in the server and then turn around and be super nice and friendly to the faces of the people she was shittalking for... honestly i don't know what reason there could be. social clout? to feel like she was everyone's friend? she was catty about everyone constantly. sometimes people she didn't like would post in that server and then she'd turn around and get in our dms—including me this time!—and just bitch about them existing. maybe their opinions about dnd were cringe or she just didn't like how they interacted in group conversations. it was constant. it felt like i couldn't push back on any of it because then it would become about her hurt feelings; i regret not challenging her more.

this was accompanied by a pattern where she would see posts on tumblr talking about, for example, how white neurodivergent people's food aversions are not formed in a cultural vacuum. this is specific because this is a real incident that happened. she went to someone i care about, to complain about how the post was making her feel bad, and then when that person pushed back (because, among other reasons, they're mixed and have direct experience with racism around food), liza first shut down and disappeared and then came back the next morning angry and expecting an apology because she was "hurt". this pattern repeated in their interactions over months. there were several fights about it. i know this because we live together and i witnessed the fallout. every single time it happened, there was no room for anyone's emotions but liza's, and no room for anything but reassuring her guilt or her anxiety while she refused to take her rescue medication or talk to her therapist. my loved one brought this up repeatedly. liza knew this was a problem. i think, genuinely, that she believes because she got the verbal confirmation of "i don't hate you + we're still friends" somehow those incidents didn't stack up over time.

like, i want to emphasize immensely that this isn't a callout post. it's not that she's done shit i want smeared all over tumblr. it's a case of "wow, you've been a really shitty friend, and been leaning on your nonwhite friends especially hard while shittalking them behind their backs, and people found out about it because we're also friends with each other and didn't think it was fair or kind". i have very intentionally not sought people out to talk about this because we were friends for so long, so i still want her to get better, and i didn't want her to spin it like a conspiracy where we're trying to drive a wedge between her and her friend group. i actively don't want her to isolate—i want her to get help. a lot of what she's doing and how she's been acting reminds me of how i have acted before when my ocd has been brutally unmedicated. i get the fear of social rejection.

that said: i'm aware of the fallout and i am also very uncomfortable with her reaction and the mod reaction. i especially don't think it was appropriate to fight with kirby over this and to wholesale shut down discussion in the name of "handling it privately". we tried to handle it privately. that's why it went on for so long and why it wound up here. we all gave her the benefit of the doubt. if you come at poc who are telling you hey, this looks and feels really bad and you go well you have to address it privately!! no callout posts!!, all that does is make people less inclined to actually talk to you. you won't meet people where you are, right. liza's a goddamn adult, she shouldn't need people to hold her hand and explain that not every post about racism is personally attacking her.

i understand that liza also feels hurt that i kicked her from our dnd servers. i also understand that she is telling people i did so "without a word" and without discussing it with her first. i'll take some responsibility here: i wasn't aware that discord doesn't show the "ban message" reason to the actual user who gets banned, only to the audit log. here's what i said:

so, yknow, mea culpa. i've never had to ban someone from a server before. i still have not blocked her anywhere, and she is welcome to reach out if she needs someone else to reiterate for the hundredth time why exactly it's not okay to make your friends of colour hold your hand whenever you feel personally targeted by criticism. maybe she'll finally listen if it comes from a white person. i chose to kick her from these games because i am defensive over the people that i care for and i don't want to expose them to someone who will turn around and be mean to them behind their back. that sucks. (she is also a very frustrating player and dm, which is unrelated to this conflict, but which made it easier.) (yknow when you have little frustrations for a while and then something Happens and you see that it's part of a bigger pattern? it's like that.)

the private conflicts i am largely eliding at the request of the people involved. i do feel it's important context that this entire fight started in private because liza got upset that a mutual friend of ours did not notify her before dating someone, despite that friend having turned her down explicitly and kindly four years ago. she proceeded to, again, get in our dms and say cruel shit about how that person wasn't "emotionally mature enough" for a relationship. i guess it would've been different if they'd been dating her? who knows. that's why i called it strahdlike behaviour—i was specifically talking about carrying that torch for someone who doesn't want to date you, getting upset at them when they dare to have their own life, and burning the friendship down over it.

(since you were also in that server, you may be able to figure out some of the people i haven't named but am talking about; i'd appreciate keeping their names out of it, because they really just want to not engage with this anymore at this point. it's been like, days of intense anxiety at the fear of reprisal. i'm also sticking to one pronoun throughout for clarity, but liza uses all pronouns to the best of my current knowledge.)

also i fully understand if it's hard to take me at my word for this because it's effectively hearsay. i'm trying to walk a line here between protecting the mental health of people involved and being clear about what happened and what i wish she would take from this. if there's anything that i can clear up please let me know. if folks from that server want to talk my dms are also open. i didn't want to burn the bridge initially! i only got this angry when she wouldn't stop and then turned around and tried to make this my loved ones' fault. it's genuinely really sad seeing her spiral out like this. i want her to get help and to sit with the uncomfortable emotions, look them in the eye, and learn from them. i want her to go to therapy for ocd. she is uniquely poised to do so with the resources she has. i've talked to her about it before and been responsible for fielding conflicts between her and other people. we cannot save her from her own privilege. that's hers to interrogate. i wish her well, we just can't be responsible for telling her that everything she does is justified and okay anymore.

[minecraftrelatedrandomness]

my pirates death predictions tier list as of 4 dec 2023 lore (6 days until the end)

explanations under the cut

survival predictions

p!shelby survives purely on the basis of having skipped town offscreen. it would kinda be funny to me. if not that, she's a 50/50.

p!acho's chances are either dying in the kishi quest (for personal lore reasons) or in conjunction with p!scott (for familial lore reasons). with the current theory discussed on the powcreations discord (if both p!acho and p!apo survive the last lore stream, they end up on kishi island which they might have passed on their way to the ice wall), i personally doubt p!apo is gonna die.

i feel that to give p!apo a satisfactory ending, he's gonna have to have at least one more lore stream to tie up the loose ends. ESPECIALLY the alphie-related backstory and to have a satisfactory conclusion to the character arc. if p!acho dies in the kishi quest, p!apo is gonna survive.

i want p!el to have a happy resolution to her identity crisis. p!jojo is just there for vibes but at this point, "kill the cutie" could be in order for her.

either/or predictions

most of the 50/50 people aren't very active on the server and i jokingly call them cannon fodder bc of this; the rest are based purely on how much character lore they have (not much). p!water is there mainly because of the whole jeffery ordeal and i dunno if she's gonna live as a widow or join her hubby-that-could-have-been in the afterlife.

p!will and p!shep have upcoming lore tomorrow/day after (time zones are weird). p!shep is PROBABLY gonna survive it, given he's said on discord he'll livestream the finale, but i don't know if he'll make it PAST the finale.

p!graecie's chances of survival depend on the isles because her arc kinda ties into the nightingale faction leader thing. if the isles go down in the finale, she'll go down with them. if the isles make it out of the finale still standing, p!graecie MIGHT survive to grow as a leader in the in-universe future, but she might also die. if she dies, either p!acho or p!apo is gonna be left in charge, partially bc it would be funny but also partially for arc reasons.

p!owen skipped town back on nov 18 and i have no way of knowing if he's gonna live or die and i ain't gonna guesstimate that.

death predictions

with cc!scott dropping ominous lore hints in his most recent livestream (dec 3), P!SCOTT IS ALMOST DEFINITELY GOING TO DIE. probably to the cult, his parents (derog), or his own mental health issues, since those seem to be the biggest ongoing storylines for his character.

i've always envisioned p!michela to be on the chopping block ever since p!aimsey went missing due to entwined lore. but it's hard to say she's 99% gonna die when she has barely logged on in a long while, so yeah.

the only reason i put p!kuervo in 80% is because as a (fellow) totalitarian autocracy survivor, i want to hold out hope. but realistically speaking, with the stunt he pulled with the letter to the armada, he's more likely than not to end up executed. ESPECIALLY with the ending of his most recent livestream (dec 2). and also nov 18 ending.

i haven't watched p!kyle's most recent lore (nov 17) so this is based purely on vibes (legacy, what is a legacy) from what i know about that lore stream.

p!saus because evil sword lore. p!ros just has the "kill the cutie" vibes. also hunter (powcreations discord) predicts p!ros is gonna die in the process of trying to stop p!saus from turning full evil and i honestly think that tracks, esp since mufasa is out of the equation now (as of oct 30).

p!martyn is a weird case of "dying in the pirates universe and returning to the datastream". so he technically will die but also doesn't. i think it's the villain arc spurring me into this decision.

[shatnerihardlyknowher]

you seem like such a nice person!! I found your blog through another mutual who sent you an ask for some very sweet mcspirk drawings and I loved them so much oh my lord. scrolled down your posts for maybe half an hour?? absolutely top tier stuff. I feel like your vibes are just immaculate, a mix of kind and chaotic and GREEN (there’s a reason for that I swear), I’m sitting here like Oliver all “please may I have some more sir” except I’m Oliver and ‘more’ is interacting with u lol. idk you’re exciting!! in a ‘I wanna give you a pretty rock and a forehead kiss’ kind of way. also u live in Kansas? coolio I’ve got family there and Texas I love that part of the states <33 also I laugh whenever I look at your pfp because bones with his tongue out is poetic cinema. I sort of want to make fic of your drawings if you’d let me too <3 they’re so trans and so cute and all the Star Trek tos is amazing. and I’m pretty sure u know who I am at this point but that’s fine haha anyway I just wanted to say ur cool !! have an amazing day 💙💙

I TOLD YALL ID CRY

YES YES YES YOU CAN ABSOLUTELY MAKE FICS!!! The Blackbird one already has a lil angsty then fluffy fic that I'm writing but it's nowhere NEAR done😭😭

This is genuinely so sweet. Yes I'd love to interact more!!! I always get so excited seeing comments and getting pms from people. I have a post with my discord account if you'd like to add me there!! I have a server that's really only two people right now! It's a Bones cult!!!!!

I will gladly take that rock and forehead kiss. And yes!! I fucking love it here. Only downside is that I can't be a cetologist round here very well. I've been to Texas and am probably going back down to San Antonio this summer! I went down last year to see My Chemical Romance and may be goin to see blink-182. I love Texas, I miss it every day.

I honestly don't know who this is and I don't know if that's embarrassing but like- RAHH

[evilrat-sabre]

Welsknight Season 7, EP 1 and 2 a Rat's report

So I started watching Wels season 7 again for reasons™ and decided I should take notes, not only of what he does, but about things I observe around the server, so here is my trying to understand my own notes and sharing with y'all. Idk if I will do it again, but I had fun doing this.

Note: I did it again! NEXT

INSANE "Starter" House! | Hermitcraft 7 - Ep. 1

27:04 length, posted 23 may 2020. Watched 30 January 2023.

Wels starts the video referring to it as Season 6, he says that he just had a nap, and he is ready to go work in "projects"

He finds it weird that no one is online Cub enters the world and gets weirded out with Wels being on the word Wels talks with Cub in the nether hub -Wels calls Cub a vex and this makes me unreasonable happy -Wels refers to season 7 as "the future" He goes through a suspicious diamond portal and ends in Hermitcraft season 7

At season 7 Cub gives him some of Scar's crystals, He grabs two:

"Courage of the lion" and a "A gift of love", because I quote -Love is all you need-

Some time observation notes:

Grass and mycelium mix in the Shopping District, this is before the war.

I see a Mumbo for mayor map, I am still not sure what point in the mayoral election this is.

It's before the nether update: The button is alive.

I probably should mention he builds his starter base, it has a lovely colour pallet.

This is where my episode one notes ends, but I went a little bonkers with episode two notes,

Mines & Landscapes | Hermitcraft 7 - Ep. 2

26:15 length, posted 27 may 2020. Watched 30 January 2023.

He starts mining and talking about the burnout he was going through, apparently he took a 8 months break of minecraft, started streaming and swapped to a more general gaming content creation.

Personal note: This reminded me why I started watching Wels to begin with; the man was receiving awful comments, because of his lack of minecraft posting. I was new to the fandom and hadn't ever watched him before, when I got here he was already going with his now very familiar cycle of posting minecraft and vanishing for some time, maybe posting another game and maybe posting nothing for months. I will not lie, I started watching him of pure spite to the awful people that felt like it was a acceptable comportment to go to this guy's comment section and talk shit about how if he wasn't going to post he should get kicked out Hermitcraft. I said it at that time and I will always repeat: You are aren't entitled NOTHING, Wels and honestly any other youtuber, by default owns you nothing, and being a little hater will only ostracize you from other people from this community. aNYWAY; I got hooked in his Binding of Isaac series, and to today he is my favorite youtuber, and his videos -Minecraft or not- bring me great joy. Okay back to my report.

*Spams clicks his bed when the sun starts to go downs* "Bdubs isn't online, someone gotta fill up" Sir, just admit you have a sleeping problem /j

*Insert epic wither skeleton killing montage here*

The button is dead. Wels comment at seeing it dead: "The Gift machine is broken, good thing I didn't spend a long time camping, I could be hurt"

Wels starts going through the mayoral candidates and starts reasoning why he wouldn't vote to some of them

Mumbo: "I can't in good conscious support Mumbo, because I don't need a spoon" (Personal note: I was so amused I anoted the time stamp 07:15) Scar: Scar offered cats for everyone if he wins and I quote Wels "I don't even like cats" (Personal note: Even your favs can do wrong; sometimes living in denial and turning a blind eye for things is a good thing to do /hj) Doc: "I don't know, where I will even begin" (Personal note: "this green man was occupied having a child", Its a good start of a explanation and "He is a menace and a threat to society" is also a very reasonable one. Joe: "He isn't running for mayor" (Personal note: Yeah, he was running for something even better, the whole Dog catcher thing, may be one of the best things I ever saw in minecraft. "Create a problem that only you can solve, so now you hold political power over your fellow friends and coworkers") So this leaves Wels with two good option False and Stress, he can't really decide so he leaves his concrete vote in both of them. (Rat's reaction : Yesss, vote in our queens, oh brave knight!)

10/10 he would book again

Why is he killing the wither with a axe?? (I know why, but let me fins him weird)

He is doing his starter base interior; I am having House flipper flashbacks, at least it isn't grey.

No one sells feathers, Wels commits murder of the poultry category.

He send letters to his close neighbors, it starts with "Hidey-ho neighbor-" and I am smiling wide and losing my marbles.

Every neighbor receives two blue flowers, with exception of Jevin who receives two yellow ones (Persona note: I find this funny, because Jevin is the only one I am aware that blue is his favorite color)

Some time and world observation notes:

Barge was updated from Ep 1 to 2, Wels complimented it.

I just saw Grumbot- Oh god the shopping district was so ugly. (My actual live reaction)

This is the end of my report for now. God I am nostalgic, Season 7 was the season I got into Hermitcraft, and it fills me with joy seeing if from the pov of my favorite youtuber.

[writercole]

Five Minutes More

Summary: Dean may have developed a crush on one of the girls he plays his mmorpg with. When she comes to town for work, feelings take over. Squares: Gamers spnfluffbingo Words: 2413 Warnings: Fluff, sweet Dean Credits: @princessmisery666 for looking this over ages ago. I'm lowering my expectations and posting it now. A/N: This was going to be a very long series but it's honestly a lot and I can't handle expanding it but it's so sweet that I have to share it.

Likes are loved but reblogs are golden. Patreon is gone. Tipping is available through Tumblr if you're so inclined.

Wednesday

 “Alright guys, keep your focus. Another two percent,” the raid leader, Dean, better known in game as DWImpala, called over the voice chat. The only thing that could be heard over comms was the steady click-clack of key presses for spells and attacks. The numbers steadily decreased, chunks of the boss’s health falling off as the eighteen players gave their all.

The boss went down and everyone cheered, congratulating the lucky players who got loot and lamenting that they didn’t think the stupid horse existed since another week had gone by without a drop.

“Alright, I’m calling it here for the night,” he announced to his guild. “Next week we’re going to do a full clear, then go on raid break until we get new content.”

Players said their goodbyes and logged off the game and the voice server, leaving their officers alone.

“So, uh, I’m going to be out next week,” Scuttle announced. She was the healer lead and the few people who knew her well enough called her Y/N.

“Oh yeah? Hot date?” Demonfall, a DPS known as Ash, teased.

“Out of town for work, sadly,” she replied with a sigh.

“Anywhere fun, at least?” Dean questioned, disappointed that she’d be gone. She was great at her class, sure, but he’d also developed a bit of a crush on her.

“Not unless you count a tiny town in Kansas as fun,” she scoffed.

Dean’s heart skipped a beat when she said Kansas. He’d grown up there, hell, he still lived in Kansas. He knew the odds of her coming to his tiny town were slim. 

But if he were honest, he wasn’t even sure he wanted to meet her. His crush was probably nothing; he didn’t even know what she looked like. But she was an awesome person from what he could tell.

He was vaguely aware of continuing conversation between the other two people but he wasn’t paying attention. His mind had gotten lost in fantasies and what ifs, trying to come up with a reason to find out more about what she did and where she’d be just to get a glimpse of her. He knew it was creepy to manipulate the conversation for information. So he kept his mouth shut.

The sound of a user disconnecting snapped his attention back to the present, his heart falling at the thought that he’d lost his chance to talk to her more. But when he saw that they were the only two left in chat, his mouth went dry.

“De? You still there?” she asked.

“Oh, uh, y-yeah,” he stuttered and cleared his throat. “Sorry, I kinda zoned out after you mentioned you were coming to Kansas.”

“Coming to Kansas? Is that where you are?” she questioned eagerly, anxious to get some kind of information from the private man she had started to have feelings for.

“Yeah,” he confirmed, “Lawrence.”

“You’re kidding,” she deadpanned, unable to believe what she was hearing.

“Uh, no,” he replied, confusion evident in his voice.

“That’s where I’ll be. If you have some time one day, maybe, if you want, you can show me where to get a decent burger?” Her voice held a lightness, a hope that he’d accept.

“I’d love to,” he answered enthusiastically. She’d been the first one to ask. She actually wanted to meet him.

“Really?! I mean, I’m there all week so it’s whenever you’re free but that would be amazing,” she babbled.

“So when are you getting in?”

“Sunday evening. I’m driving down and should be there somewhere around 5 or 6,” she informed, doing the math in her head about what time she needed to leave and how long the drive was.

“Okay, well how about we meet up Sunday evening? I can take you out for a late dinner,” he offered. 

“That sounds great,” she agreed with a smile evident in her voice.

“Awesome. I’ll DM you my number and you can just text me when you’re close?” Dean suggested as he typed his cell into the chat box.

“I’ll text you from my phone so you can save my number, too. Just make sure your girlfriend knows who I am,” she chuckled.

“No girlfriend, sweetheart,” Dean clarified, “but you make sure your boyfriend is cool with it.”

“Yeah, about that,” she said softly, “we broke up two weeks ago.”

“What? Scuttle, why didn’t you say anything?” Dean scolded.

“I don’t know. I mean, it’s not like I was in love with the guy. So what if I caught him in his car with some redhead? It’s not a big deal.” Her voice contained a venom that Dean never wanted to be on the receiving end of.

“Where does this guy live?” Dean practically growled, anger at the man who treated her so badly burning in his chest. 

She laughed then, a sweet giggle that doused the fire and diverted his attention.

“I’m serious, sweetheart. Say the word and I’ll take care of him,” he repeated.

“That’s sweet, De. But I’m fine, really. It’s getting late, though, and I have to work tomorrow and pack. I’ll see you Sunday?”

“Five minutes more?” he pleaded.

“Five minutes,” she confirmed.

Sunday

Five minutes turned into an hour. That hour turned into texting back and forth over the next few days, nearly all day long, and talking every night for hours. By the time Sunday came around, Dean was sure that he was falling for her. 

As sure as Dean was that he was falling hard, so was she. Her ex had said that she cared more about that game and people she’d never met than him. In hindsight, he may not have been wrong. He was still a dick, though.

She texted Dean when she was leaving home and starting her drive. He smiled at his phone before slipping it back in his pocket and sliding back under his car, whistling as he worked. It was just a simple oil change and he was done in no time, deciding to wash and detail the car while he had time. 

He sang along to Metallica as he dried the water, not realizing that he had a smile on his face until Benny walked over from next door.

“Wha’s gaht yah smilin’ like dat?” he teased in his thick Cajun accent.

“Nothing. I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dean quickly denied.

“Who’z dah guhl?” 

“What girl?”

Benny fixed him with a look, letting him know that he wasn’t buying it. Dean sighed and Benny smirked, knowing that he’d won that battle.

“Okay, so you know how I’ve told you about that girl I game with, Scuttle?” Dean started.

“Oh yeah, tha one you sweet on,” Benny replied.

“I’m not five, Benny. I’m not ‘sweet’ on her.” Dean rolled his eyes and Benny laughed before Dean continued. “Anyway, she’s coming to town for work and I’m taking her to dinner tonight.”

“You gonna tell Cher yah like her?” 

“No. I mean, I don’t really even know her. She doesn’t even know me. And she just broke up with her boyfriend because she caught him cheating on her.” Dean returned to his work polishing the chrome trim on his car, pretending to ignore his friend standing behind him.

“Dean, she jus’ broke up wit’ her boyfriend. Don’ you think’ tha’ you should say somethin’ before some otha man does?” Benny chided as he shifted to see Dean’s face instead of the back of his head. “Girl like dat won’ be lonely long, brotha.”

“Jesus, Benny. Can’t I meet the girl before you give me the speech?” Dean whined as he stood up, his phone pinging in his pocket. He pulled it out without breaking eye contact with his friend, then looked down to see a message from her. He opened his phone quickly, finding a picture of a sign advertising Lebanon, Center of the Continental United States - 50 miles.

“How long?” Benny asked, not giving any other context.

“About an hour,” Dean replied without thinking, typing out a message and slipping his phone back in his pocket. He cringed when he realized what Benny had asked and saw the smug look on his friend’s face.

“Ah’m gonna go. See yah at work tomorrah. Gonna wanna hear all ‘bout th’date.” Benny strode away to his yard, leaving Dean to finish up the car and get ready to go out.

She texted Dean once she’d checked in and told him where she was. When he responded that he was on his way, her palms started sweating and her heart started pounding. She tried taking deep, calming breaths but nothing was helping the nerves.

A knock sounded on the door and she froze, panicked that he was already at the hotel. She was second guessing everything from her wardrobe to her hair to even meeting up with him. Another knock echoed through the room and she moved towards the door automatically, taking a deep breath as she turned the knob and pulled the door open.

Her breath caught in her chest when she laid eyes on him for the first time. There had to have been a mistake. There's no way this is…"Dean?" she asked as she met his gaze.

"Yeah," he confirmed with a wide grin. "It's nice to meet you, Y/N."

“Wow, I…you look nothing like I pictured,” she blurted out, quickly following up with “that’s not a bad thing! I just didn’t expect…you know…a model.”

He chuckled at her candor, ducking his head while the tips of his ears turned red. “You flatter me, sweetheart, but you’re the one who could be a model. I knew you’d be gorgeous but I didn’t expect to have the wind knocked out of me.”

“That’s sweet, De,” she giggled. “Do you want to come in? Five minutes and I’ll be ready,” she told him as she backed into the room.

“Yeah, five minutes. No problem,” he replied.

Dean took her to a small diner where they had burgers and pie, laughing and talking until they were the only two people left in the restaurant.  It was still early so they opted for a ride around town with the windows down, the cooling air blowing around in their hair as Dean drove down quiet roads.

He kept stealing glances at her, drawn to the way the moonlight surrounded her in an ethereal light, making her glow. He pulled down a dirt road and turned off the headlights, letting the full moon be his guide. 

“Is this where you kill and bury me?” she joked as he parked the car.

“Nah,” he chuckled, “this here is the best part of Lawrence.”

Dean stepped out of the car and walked around to her side, opening the door and offering his hand to help her out of the car. He kept a hold on it as he started to walk through the trees ahead of them.

She followed him quietly, trusting him completely. They stepped through the trees and she gasped at the sight before her. 

Inside a quiet clearing was a small pond, barely big enough for a boat to float comfortably.  Moonlight reflected off of the water, sparkling as the small waves moved in the breeze. A little dock led to a small gazebo over the water. 

Dean took her to the gazebo and she looked around in awe; the roof was made of a clear material, allowing her to see the stars shining in the sky. Thick benches lined the walls of the wooden structure, a waist-high railing surrounding the edge, the rest of the space open, allowing the cool breeze of the night to pass through.

Dean watched as she took in the space, her eyes wide and her jaw slack. He knew this was the right spot. It’s where his brother took his wife for their first date, where Benny took his fiancee’, where his parents had their first date. The hope that something could bloom here lifted his heart and drove out the nagging thoughts of her leaving again. 

She turned around to face Dean, finding him standing next to a pile of blankets and pillows that she was sure hadn’t been laid out when they got there. He reached out his hand and she accepted it, following his lead and settling into the soft mountain to watch the stars. 

As the pair talked and laughed, they drifted closer to one another, lying on their sides facing each other when Y/N started to yawn.

“We should get you back to the hotel,” Dean told her quietly.

“No, no, I’m fine,” she insisted. “Five minutes more.”

“Five minutes then we head back,” he promised.

“Five minutes.”

Monday

Dean woke to sunlight streaming in his face and a heavy warmth across his chest. He stretched, thinking he was in his bed, only to be met with wooden planks surrounding him. Memories of last night came flooding back and his eyes fluttered open to find Y/N sleeping soundly on his chest, still in the gazebo over the small pond. 

His gaze had found a home on her peaceful face and he stared unabashedly, counting the barely there freckles across her cheekbones, admiring the way her lashes brushed her cheeks, resisting the urge to trace the soft lines around her mouth and eyes. She began to stir and cuddled closer to him. 

Dean prayed she couldn’t tell how fast his heart was beating beneath her ear in her half-awake state. His arm tightened around her, holding her close. He closed his eyes and wished for time to stop, to be able to stay in this moment forever. His hopes were dashed when his phone started vibrating in his pocket, the alarm he had set for work blaring through the silence.

Scuttle groaned and swiped towards the sound while Dean fished in his pocket for the offending device. He turned it off and gave his attention back to her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“Hey, sweetheart, it’s time to wake up,” he coaxed, his hand trailing up the arm tossed over his chest.

“Noo, five more minutes,” she mumbled as she wiggled next to him.

“Five more minutes,” he agreed quietly, a soft smile gracing his face, the possibilities of the upcoming week shrinking under the impending end of their fling. He would enjoy the next five minutes of her in his arms as if it were the last.