#Turn the light on and off when I'm feeling neurotic

[likearhinestonecowgirl]

Jason Todd Headcanons

Jason who will move you- whether it be placing a big hand on the small of your back to usher you through a busy crowd, or you're in his way, maybe in the kitchen rambling about something you saw on the news. He will wordlessly pick you up, tired and lethargic with bruised knuckles from the night before, and sit you on the counter. He mumbles something, makes a grunt to let you know to keep talking while one hand smooths up and down the inside of your thigh and the other opens the drawer you were blocking.

Jason who is obviously a theater kid- but if this is living with Bruce, moonlighting as Robin Jason, he'd be discrete. He'd say he needs the class as his obligatory elective and didn't take pottery because he doesn't like getting his hands dirty (lie). He'd sit near the back of the theater, but he'd listen intently, and every poetry assignment he'd turn in would be a work of fucking god. Every project, the teacher would ask him to perform instead of doing the alternative (some paper or poem) and maybe, just maybe, he'll say yes if he's comfortable enough.

Jason who hides food around his apartment and safehouses. Non-perishable, like trail mix, granola bars, little ziplocks of cereal. Dick had cut that habit, made Jason comfortable enough to understand he'll never have to worry, he'll never have to fend for himself by himself. Rising from the lazarus pit as an animated corpse turned everything on its head. The neurotic habits came back. If you're close enough, if he spends enough time at your place, it's likely you'll eventually find a baggie of chex mix sitting on top of your fridge.

Jason who is a barb. I'm not explaining this one, he just is. An honorary member of gag city 🫡

Jason who always has a pack of Marlboro menthols on him. Alternatively, when his lungs are feeling extra gross and he decides he wants to quit, he'll start on zyns again (cool mint ofc). There's usually a zyn tower on his bedside table, teetering right beside the glock 47 he most definitely should put in his gun safe but never will, no matter how many times you tell him

"Jason, what if someone comes in and grabs it?"

"No one-"

"What if it falls and goes off?"

"That won't happen."

Before you can get another word his, large hands turn you to face him, practically suffocated you against his chest, one hand on the back of your head while the other dips low and follows the curve of your spine.

"No one in the world is safer than you right now."

Jason who is extremely invested in TLC (specifically 1,000 pound sisters) and never wastes a chance to tell you how shocked and proud he is of Tammy for finally losing weight- even if she's still a bitch

Jason who loves to buy you things. Usually not too crazy, more like stupid little keychains and stuffed animals to build the militia in your room. But he thinks of you all the time and he can picture the look on your face when he comes back with another stupid surprise. Next thing he knows he's got a turtle or dragon or cat stuffed safely in the inside pocket of his jacket while he threatens a few men with his fists.

"They just gave it to me for free." He shrugs, holding a loving grin as he watches you beam over the fuzzy thing in your hands.

But when your face contorts in something accusatory, he holds his breath.

"What?"

"Were you wearing that?" You look over his costume, the Red Hood, the guns hardly concealed on his sides.

"Yea, why?"

"Dude, you robbed them."

Jason who loves to buy you things, who hardly goes out of his way to hide when he comes into some money (obviously by violent means- but who cares when he's gunning down men who sell drugs to kids. Minor casualty). He'd show up with a purse that's ten times your rent, a bracelet the blinds you when it's under direct light, a dress that he knows you have no place fancy enough to wear it to. If you start to ask questions, he'll distract by any means necessary, like standing behind you to slowly untie your sweatpants or unbutton your jeans, inch off your clothing and let his fingertips dip low so you can really feel the old callouses and scars he knows you love so much, before carefully dressing you in whatever nice thing he'd bought.

******i hardly proofread this sos sorry for the typos if they're there lol lmk if i should make more

[pleasuretrade]

i do not have any stargate followers but im putting this in the tag to let all 40 neurotic active sg-1 fans on here know that i started writing a crack taken seriously about daniel becoming catboy

i started writing it as a joke but it actually brought me sm joy lol

idk when i'm gonna finish it but here's a lil excerpt

 Once Jack had dragged him back into the main chamber, Daniel rolled over to peer up at him, backlit by the entrance above. Even in the poor light, Daniel could tell something was wrong. Jack’s body was tense, his arms out to his sides like he was trying to decide whether or not to grab a weapon.

“Daniel, what in the hell have you done now?”

 Still not fully clear on what was happening, Daniel could only shade his eyes to try to gauge the exact level of pissed-off on Jack’s face. He was unceremoniously yanked up by the front of his jacket and given an aggressive once-over. Daniel felt fine, and murmured as much, squinting away from the invasion of personal space.

“You don’t look fine!”

“Sir?” Carter said from somewhere up above. Daniel could just see the silhouette of her hair as she peeked in. “Oh my god.”

“What? What are you two so freaked out about, is there a spider on my face, what?”

 Jack reached over his head and for a brief moment Daniel thought he was going to ruffle his hair, only he found himself flinching away when Jack’s fingers came into contact with something there. Daniel swatted at whatever it was, trying frantically to brush it off. A bug? A rodent? An alien parasite? There were two of them, and they were not falling off, and he could feel them, and they were very sensitive, and oh god- “Cat ears?!” Jack barked, yanking on one of them.

“Ow! Jesus, Jack, come on!”

“Can it, Mittens, I was just seeing if they were really attached.”

“They are really attached!”

“What is going on?!” Sam pleaded, gawking from above at his new appendages.

Jack peered all around his head like there might be a button to eject them like beaters in a hand mixer. “Do they hurt?”

“Only when you yank on them!”

“I don’t like your tone, Daniel.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m sorry, Jack, let me j-” Daniel took a step forward and immediately felt a tingle climb his spine.

“Daniel Jackson?” Teal’c was now peering into the chamber as well.

 Slowly, as if he turned slowly enough it might not be real, Daniel looked behind him and down at his ass. Reaching under his jacket and shirt, under the high waistband of his pants, Daniel already knew what he would find there.

[oh-cawsh]

9 people to get to know better

thanks for tagging me @ghostradiodylan !!

1. Three ships: Rylan my beloved they do no wrong. theyre the epitome of awkward bashful and honest gay summer teen romance with the perfect contrasting note of horrific life threatening monsters which is unsurpassable genre peak. and yeah ngl its pretty rare that i get behind a ship but two others i can think of are amity/luz from the owl house (but mostly in season 1 because they do cute anxious crushing stuff and after that they just kind of turn into supportive gf A and supportive gf B), and legosi/louis from beastars because how do you just gloss over neurotic homophobe slut ptsd theatre twink x weird brooding puritan loser freudian pervert and the fact that it does WORK too like hello

2. First ever ship: i wanna say gregg and angus from night in the woods?? i remember i was in that weird sexual orientation puberty where you literally know you're gay but it's not like a consciously meaningful part of your identity so i remember seeing them and thinking wow that's cool that they're boyfriends i guess idk. also i'm inexorably drawn to their existence for some reason and my lockscreen is them cuddling with the lazy morning light peeking through the curtains

3. Last song: My Kink is Karma - Chappell Roan, im a sucker for moody electronic pop and that album DELIVERS

4. Last film: i watched the first three movies in a pirates of the caribbean marathon with some friends which ngl after the first one feels like trying to suck sugar water out of a sock 😶 the last film i personally chose to watch was the 1976 Carrie! it was nice being able to watch it and appreciate it as an adult with an education and not a teen recluse going "yeah carrie you show those villain highschoolers what's what"

5. Currently (re)reading: Shakespeare's Twelfth Night! i have my old copy from highschool open next to me and the 2012 shakespeare's globe production up and i just sit and sift between watching and reading and analysing it, just like when i first learned it in class. i'm not really sure why i wanted to reread it again in the first place, but i find it kind of soothing to read older texts where the language and culture's a little ways off from its modern successors. i find it calming to kind of pull those stories back in a way we can understand with its old contexts and writing, and see more and more of that timeless human experience shine through. sudoku for english nerds i guess LOL

6. Currently watching: my watcher's stamina has actually gotten so shit im ngl like i actually haven't watched a show in months 😭😭😭 the last show i watched was bluey (which was pretty good! (and pretty indicative of the kind of attention span ive got these days 😂👌))

7. Currently consuming: this horrible like nutraloaf nightmare bowl i made because my appetite was really poor today and at 5 pm or so i was like ugh well id better eat something quick and dense if im not gonna have a proper meal so i insulted God and put together reheated smashed potato (in the microwave so they lost all their crunch and flavour) + dried roasted edamame beans + peanut butter + regular butter + cheddar + yoghurt + whole salted almonds in a bowl and had a slice of walnut fig cake as a side. that thing needed a censor bar like i was in the trenches trying to get that down im ngl. eating that meal took more energy out of me than what it gave back like i knew i made something unholy and then immediately paid for it like it was so frankenstein and his monster right there on that kitchen counter

8. Currently craving: literally anything after that like god damn 😭😭😭😭😭 otherwise ive been hankering for a good chana masala and naan combo cus there's literally never a day where i'll turn south asian cuisine down like aw man i shouldve just gone out and got some of that to eat today ugh god damn it

also im ngl i don't really know who to tag cus i only started having a presence on tumblr like barely a month ago and ive only meaningfully interacted with like 3 people since then so um!! whoever's out there lurking around on my blog if ya wanna participate feel free! and either way, thanks for readin my ramblings regardless :)

[xirae]

What's funny about the 3DS is I put it down bc I noticed, at a certain angle under direct light when the screen was turned off, I saw two hairline scratches..... I'm kind of neurotic about damaging things so I just put it down. It makes me feel guilty. But now I'm changing with newfound power of the self - I will not fret the tiny signs of use! I will use the touch screen in its full unprotected glory! And I will enjoy my time, no guilt! I might buy a backup screen though to make myself feel better but woof it's a doozy to replace tbh. I probably could but yeah, it won't get there. As a kid my DS lite had real scratches and I still played (actually want to try refurbishing it as the preferred DS and GBA game console, screen is yellowed and that I actually won't tolerate)

[theghostpinesmusic]

I've been traveling for a bit, so I haven't been watching any new shows, but I have a little catching up to do, so today I'm going to write at you about the 7/29/23 "Fuego"! From Arkansas!

As in "I'm in Arkansas right now," not "This Phish concert was in Arkansas," because it was in New York City, where all Phish concerts are now contractually held.

This was the second show of the summer MSG run, and it was just as good as the first. If I was being a neurotic Fandom fan, I'd say that the first show was a wee bit better because it had better paced-setlist, but I don't rate Phish shows anymore. I'm in recovery!

Anyway, the first set of this show has a freaking excellent, bliss-jammed version of "Down With Disease" as well as a well-placed "Bug," cleanly-played versions of Trey bugbears "Sugar Shack" and "Foam," and closes with a barn-burning version of "Moonage Daydream."

The second set is anchored by the "Fuego," for sure (it's thirty minutes long, as we'll get to), but also has a great post-jam landing pad in "Oblivion," a great ballad tune in "Wingsuit," and a weird and wonderful take on "2001" that melts into some Fishman shenanigans toward the end of the set.

In short and as usual, it's all good, but Phish saw fit to post the "Fuego" online, and I like writing about music a lot but not enough to talk about the whole show in detail, so we're gonna focus on that.

"Fuego," for any uninitiated, is from the same-titled 2014 album, which, like most latter-day Phish albums is weirdly paced but also full of good songs that get shit on because they weren't written in the 90s. "Fuego" in particular is a great example of a post-breakup Phish tune that contains lots of the proggy twists and turns fans say they want to hear in the new tunes, but it often gets poo-poo'd anyway because it isn't literally "You Enjoy Myself" or "Divided Sky."

I like it a lot. It's a fun composition that throws a lot of different ideas out there and, like the best Phish tunes, stitches them together seamlessly. Everyone gets moments to shine, but to me "Fuego" is primarily a Jon Fishman showcase.

Since there are a lot of instrumental passages built into this one, it can be hard for the non-fan to figure out what's composed and what's improvised, so, for your reference, the song proper runs up through 5:15.

From there, we start with what I'd call a typical outro, following the song's chords and Trey playing variations on the song's main melody in a grungy blues tone. While this isn't immediately that exciting, the lights sure are. I seriously can't get over this rig, even just watching from home.

Things start to get a little weirder right before 7:00, when Trey changes his tone to something spacier and chunkier (I think of this as one of his quintessential post-COVID tour tones). It's not until 7:45, though, that we really start to break away from the song entirely. Here, Page adds some synth droning, and Fish starts playing a more complicated beat. Trey reprises the "Fuego" melody a few more times, not entirely letting it go yet, but you feel the band starting to launch.

At 8:35, Trey starts chording instead of solo, and we're off to the races. The lights seems to respond in kind.

Even though we're in a much jauntier, abstract space by 9:15, thanks mostly to Trey and Page's playing, I appreciate that Trey still takes a minute to reprise the "Fuego" melody again, reminding us where we came from.

There's a really gorgeous section of Trey and Page interplay starting at 9:45. Fish and Mike do a great job of filling in the edges here but not getting in the way as the other two play off of each other. This leads into a really upbeat, unique jam section. Mike's bass eventually takes on a sort of droning quality that encircles the jam and holds it in place for a bit.

At 11:20, Fish changes up the beat, and the band moves toward something with a little more form to it. By 11:45, it's Trey and Mike that are playing off of each other, while Page has moved over the clav. For a minute here, it's hard for me to tell which is the guitar and which is the bass, Trey's guitar is so wonderfully distorted.

They come out of the distortion in a bit more of a traditionally Phish-y space, and though Trey seems to struggle playing what he wants to be playing here briefly, it's a nice section of the jam anyway. Fishman's drums remind me a bit of "Manteca," and I found myself singing the lyrics while I was watching this live. The rest of the band seems to lock on to the "Manteca" feel, and we get a jam that highlights Page's piano and Trey's...robot guitar (?) in equal measures.

I didn't pick up Mike's playing on this too much when I watched the whole show because of the mix on the webcast, but I can hear him a lot better now through my headphones and he's a much bigger part of the sound of this jam that I realized before. As usual. Go Mike!

Around 17:15, Trey switches from his murky tone to the quintessential sharp, clear Phish tone and proceeds to absolutely rip a solo. He and Page have another great moment of chemistry here, and though Fishman's initially introduce some tension with the feel-good soloing, eventually he and Mike help power Trey and Page to some major-key fun.

At 19:05, the band engages in some stop-start jamming, which is always good for a few "Woo!"s from the crowd. At 19:35, though, Trey jumps right back into playing smoothly, and leads the rest of the band into what sounds to me for all the world like a "Golden Age" jam. I wondered the first time and again now if they were originally planning to go into "Golden Age" here (I'm not-entirely-but-mostly-sure it's in the same key and everything). Regardless, Mike is an absolute beast out in front of this part of the jam while everyone else is adding some fantastic accents.

To clarify, I am not sad that this jam does not turn into "Golden Age": this section is amazing, and reminds me of some of my favorite dark, funky jamming from the early 2000s, post-hiatus.

It feels to me (again, not a music theory guy) that Trey throws out a key change at 23:28, which changes the feel of the jam again, moving us toward a more uplifting space. Page switches to the piano, Fishman simplifies the beat to something a bit more rock-and-roll, and Mike...well, Mike just keeps doing his Mike thing. Which is fine. It feels though like the band is rounding the bend on the space exploration that has been this jam here, though, and heading back to the barn. If I'm not mistaken, this new section of the jam is in the original key of "Fuego," so we're musically as well as existentially back at home base. Pretty sure Page teases the "Fuego" melody a few times here.

Of course not content to just roll to the finish line, the band takes one last foray into space around 26:30, with Trey moving to the octave shifter and the music becoming...circular? I'm not sure what you'd actually call it, but it's great and the lights are insane. I feel like I'm at EPCOT Center in the 80s. It's these sudden, brief-but-intense forays into different soundscapes that makes me love post-COVID Phish so much (among other things). A show (or a run of shows) with so many of these little moments would have easily been in the conversation for show of the year between 2009 and 2019, but now it's just sort of seen as "normal." I hope it never stops making me as happy as it does now.

Brilliantly, Trey signals the return to "Fuego" at 28:08, at which point, watching live, I remember standing up from the couch and literally pumping my fist at the TV in joy. For the next minute or so, the band expertly weaves the previous jam and the "Fuego" melody in and out of each other as the music ever so slowly winds down. Ultimately, the jam/song lands perfectly in "Oblivion," though, unfortunately, the stand-alone YouTube video cuts off before you get to hear it.

It's wild to listen to this again and immediately think that if this had been a jam at, say, a 2014 or 2018 show, it would likely have automatically been seen as the jam of the year. Here, in 2023, it's just one of many such performances I've already seen in the first four shows of this seven show run, and is probably outclassed by at least a few jams from the band's December MSG run (as well as the recent 2024 Mexico run that I haven't listened through yet). It's a crazy time to be getting back into Phish, and it's moments like these that have me thinking about making the drive out to Denver this summer for the first time since 2017 to see them play for four nights.

Anyway, more from summer 2023 soon!

FUEGOOOOOOOOOOO

[sweetlikehoneystingslikeabee]

Can I have a penguin party ask for an S/O that is his sugar baby? What's that dynamic like and what do the penguins expect from them?

"Sugar Baby" Penguin Party Ask

First penguin party ask 🥳 Ohhhhh my god I finally get to write for Burton penguin. He's fun! Gross bird (affectionate).

Tw: sugar daddy/sugar baby dynamics, NSFW 🔞

Batman 2022

Quintessential sugar daddy relationship. You pretty much just need to hang off his arm when he requests, be available for events, and be down for those calls when he needs to relax.

"Relax" is usually his cock down your throat or you bouncing up and down on his lap. Lots of messing around in public, sometimes stealing your panties- He's downright cheeky when he's in a mood.

He likes your company. Doesn't have a particular dress code other than "shows off your assets." The only thing he tries not to involve you in is direct business.

This isn't because he thinks you're not tough or smart enough for it, but unless you wanted to get serious, he likes keeping your relationship light and fun.

He will buy anything your little heart desires. Clothes, jewelry, textbooks, obscure gacha game shit- you earned it. Expect gifts, especially if you spend most of your "allowance" on what he considers responsible things (higher education, rent, groceries, etc).

To be clear, I don't personally like daddy kink, I do not write for it BUT. He would be the most into being actually called Daddy if that is your cup of tea.

Gotham

Least likely to have a sugar baby, but it could happen with the right person. The right person being someone who can put up with all his neurotic, control-freak bullshit.

His sugar baby can't be stupid. Let's be honest, he wasn't crushing hard on Edward just because he's pretty. What this means is any fake cutesy whiny baby voice for stuff is an instant turn-off. Or playing dumb.

His sugar baby is going to wear what he wants them to wear. In truth, it's actually not that bad- not too exposing or skimpy. Definitely black with accent colors to match him. Probably a collar or choker since you're official.

Oh yeah, you're official. He doesn't do casual well. Very jealous and even if you're not in a true romantic relationship, you probably shouldn't date anyone else just in case.

He has a very base set of rules on how to behave that he expects you to just know. Break rules at your own fucking peril. He gets off on sexual punishments. I'm talking leashes and not being allowed to cum.

Really, if you're sweet, complimentary and genuine with him, he will melt like putty in your hands. He'll get you whatever you want as long as it's within means. Stroke him off while kissing his face and he'd probably kill someone for you.

Burton

You should possibly rethink your life choices on this one. Maybe.

Look, I'm not saying you can't be a sugar baby to him, but just because you CAN. doesn't mean you SHOULD. but hey I'm not your fuckin mother.

Sex on demand, pretty much anywhere. He used to live in a sewer/abandoned zoo, he doesn't have high standards on where it is and is not okay to fuck. And you'll be fucking a lot. He's got a fingering trick to show you...

Don't be shocked that he's not shy having sex in front of others. If anything, it's a turn-on for him to show you off.

He likes skintight clothes that show off every single curve and bump on your body. You got it, you should flaunt it. That or fluffy and soft. Definitely cutesy.

There's times you have to think on your feet around him given his business, but honestly? He kind of likes you playing dumb with big fluttering eyelashes and all you want is him. It makes him feel good.

He kind of just tosses money at you every once in a while, or you can just ask? Like, you can tell him what you're going to spend it on, but honestly, he doesn't care.

You make his day a bit brighter, make him feel handsome, and ignore the way he eats. Its all a good transaction and he figures you've done your part of the deal.

Sometimes... sometimes he wishes it was real.

Arkham

Ice, ice baby- you are going to be high end fashion and dripping in jewelry. Huge fur coat (or faux if you have some kind of thing about that, he says), always warm for the Iceberg Lounge. You LOOK expensive.

Even as a sugar baby, you're representing him, his image. He wants you to look like you've just walked out of one of his prized "collection" tanks. A treasure no one else can have.

You need to be tough to be in his orbit. He's sweet to you, of course, but he will murder and maim in front of you like it's nothing. You can have moments of weakness, but if he thinks you can't stomach it, sorry luv, but you're just not cutting it. A final check and a goodbye.

He's going to judge you if you spend your allowance money on stupid shit. In his mind, it should be useful or going towards things you know he likes (read: lingerie he likes to surprise him.) If it's school in particular, he wants to know your grades.

He's surprisingly the least sexual of the penguins on this list. Part of it is age, part of it is he's busy. You're a status symbol of a family legacy long lost. If he likes you enough, he'd probably consider paying you to have a baby to continue the Cobblepot name.

He'd marry you too, of course. But the way he says it is all very transactional. He doesn't expect you to feel anything for him, so it's better for him to not get too invested emotionally.

It makes it hard to connect with him outside the events he takes you to and the times you are physically pleasing him. If you can, though, you'll find he's very fond and protective...

[renfree]

My struggle with pink soup

For most of August, I struggled with pink soup in my game. I would like to briefly summarize the process and results of this struggle. I know that there are already a lot of tips, guides, recommendations from other simmers, but maybe my experience will also be useful to someone.

My desktop specs:

Windows 7 Ultimate;

Intel Core i5-2310 2.9 GHz;

NVIDIA GeForce GTX 670 before, GTX 970 now;

16 GB RAM;

SSD 860 EVO 250 GB.

What tweaks did I have before and when pink soup appeared:

Graphic Rules Maker adjusted like this:

Jessa's Memory Allocation Fix.

lazyduchess's RPC launcher with 4 GB patch applied and with graphic settings like this:

All in-game settings set to maximum

24546 MB of Virtual memory

I have Gunmod's Radiance Lighting mod. Turning it off didn't make a difference at all.

I use Pond & Sea Water Overhaul mod by Voeille. Perhaps removing it would somehow help in my situation, but I can’t even think about removing it.

This cheat code in my "userStartup.cheat" file: "uintprop LotSkirtSizeIncrease 120"

High-poly CC

I believe this cheat above was one of the main causes of my problems.

But, of course, the biggest reason for my problems was the huge amount of high-poly custom content that I was throwing constantly in the game over the past six months. Pink soup visited me last year, rarely, in small portions, when I only had 2 high-poly T-shirts or about that, but not in such quantity like now. I don't know what kind of computers those who so zealously protect high-poly content have. They and their friends and their dog are all right, nothing flashes, does not turn pink, does not crashes. Okay. Maybe they have some other game, which is secretly distributed somewhere. It seems to me that they still keep back something.

I confess, I have become very attached to the content that such people do. Maybe I'll get over it, but right now I don't want to give up all those beautiful realistic looking hairs, wardrobes and shoes (30k polygons shoes OMFG WHY?!), although I understand that this could be one of the solutions. But too much would have to be given up.

In the end, I had to compromise with my game.

Solutions

Completely remove "uintprop LotSkirtSizeIncrease 120" cheat from my "userStartup.cheat" file. I think it helped me the most. I also usually have "View Distance" option in game set on "Large". Sometimes I set it to "Extra Large" when I feel I can. But I noticed that the game crashes way more often with "Extra High" for me. Lately I've even been loading lots with this option set to "High" only. Otherwise, the game may crash while loading the lot. Even if I just turned on the game. Then, when lot is loaded, I set "View Distance" on "Extra High" again.

I replaced the video card with a more powerful one. I doubt it helped me a lot, but I've been wanting to do this for a long time anyway. My computer is quite old and I don't plan to upgrade it to a fully modern system anytime soon, so I just found a used old but proven card model.

So I increased texture memory in GRM up to 4096 MB. Did it help me? Maybe but I doubt.

I removed most of the high-poly custom cars, and prevented the rest from appearing in hood view as imposters. Did it help me? I think a little.

I removed a lot of hood deco stuff from my hood. First of all most of the buildings. Then all of the street lights. I don't know what I'm going to do with Downtown in my uberhood. There are a lot of luminous buildings and street light, and I have not tried to play there yet.

My RPC graphic setting now look like this. Unfortunately, it turned out that beautiful lot imposters are very costly for me. High and medium shadows are not too different though.

I installed @lazyduchess Pink Soup Fix. Now I basically never see a pink flashing at all. This is a kind of plus, because the pink flashing made me neurotic :D It happens that after a long game session, the heads disappear on the family loading screen, and the body of the sims disappears in the live mode. But at least if the previews are buggy, it does not prevent me from playing further. Maybe this fix helps somehow.

How is it now

I brought back most of the high-poly objects into the game, with the exception of some toothbrush cups and cakes with 50k polygons. I now carefully filter clothes, grabbing polygon-reduced hair meshes as soon as I see them. And a big thank you to the creators who kindly list the polygon counts of their creations so I can immediately know if it's worth my time to download their content.

The game works quite stable. It is often possible to play with 3-5 families in a row with visits to heavy community lots. But increasing the view distance increases the chance of a crash, yeah.

Also, if I change Sims appearances or buy clothes during the game, objects and Sims may start to become invisible (they would have flashing without the fix) a little earlier.

But it is in any case a very big progress. In August, I launched the game, loaded one family, and some objects immediately started flashing. Yes, I use ridiculously high-poly pants and hairs because I like them. But now I'm in a period of love for a realistic style of playing, I can't help myself :) The main thing is that now I can play relatively calmly.

[gratisdiamanten]

devastated thinking about the destruction of mirjam's relationship with her parents (daniel as her favourite parent and max as the loving but more neurotic one... wahhh) so in light of that:

requesting any scene involving her and daniel after she finds out (can not remember if he dies before or after she finds out... if its the first then a scene involving max and her post-revelation, please)

Typical cws for this au, namely mention of csa but nothing explicit!

Her stomach squeezes, rolls, tumbles down a hill. See Mirjam, standing near the doorway, hand braced on the frame of it, doubled half-over like she's on the cliff-edge of sickness. To her, this is dying, it's the end of the fucking world—her dad, she loves her dad, the sunshine of her childhood. His big stupid laugh, his sweetness.

How can she think—what is she supposed to say, outside his open door where he works with his music playing we just keep on dreaming, meet meet meet me at the turnstile and she wants to cry like a kid. She feels stupid like a kid, the things dad and papa told her, meeting on the morning ride to uni.

She stands in the doorway and stares at him like a child's that just broken something, waits for him to notice, for him to beam his big smile at her, crinkling his eyes.

"Miri?" He smiles, like always, turning off his music. She feels the hunger-pang of grief, which is a pinch in her chest. When she had figured it out she didn't believe. And then she believed, and then she was angry, because it wasn't fucking fair that it was her family. That shit's supposed to happen to people she doesn't know and she knows it's selfish as shit but jesus christ she can't take this.

"Dad," she says. "Is it true," she tries.

"Is what true," he says, blinking at her. Big brown eyes, like hers. Papa joked to her all the time growing up that Dad must have snuck around because there was no way she wasn't his. You are just my little Daniel, he'd beam. His little double.

"You," she says, "and papa."

His face drops, caught aback, like he knows. His eyes are wide wide wide with terror. She wants to die.

"Miri, I have to tell you—"

Her voice climbs, hysterically. "It's true? Dad? He was twelve?"

"Mirjam, I love him, sweetie, I promise. I love your dad more than anything in the world, I want forever—"

She holds her hand over her mouth and lets out the ugliest, most embarrassing fucking sob. Sometimes, she wishes she was a teenage boy instead of a girl, because then it would be developmentally acceptable to puncture the wall with her fist, splinter her knuckles on the wood stud underneath.

"I hate you," she says like a decision. Shocking herself. Dad's face gone gray. A cloud stacking on itself, growing thick with rain.

"What," he says quietly. His look of dying, his look of letting go.

"Why did you do that," she cries, brain pinching in the front, like it's made of something soft like raw fish. "He was so little, in the pictures. He sat on your fucking knee."

"I know you don't understand, and please trust that I don't even want you to—I know, I know you're mad. Honey—"

"Don't fucking call me that," she spits, and he reacts like it's a smack in his face. "He was so little. God, why couldn't you have just gone away like a normal person? Why couldn't you have just been good?"

"No one's good the way you think they are, I—I loved him too much, I know that. But I've taken care of him forever," he says, voice ice-cracking. He looks pathetic like this, to her. Scrunched up and just old, just another ordinary, weak man. "I've loved him since before I knew him, and I know you wouldn't know how that feels. I'm sorry."

"I wouldn't ever feel like you ev—a twelve year old is a baby to me, and I'm not even twenty, you freak." She feels out of breath. Her eyes burn like crazy, not even like crying, like there's fucking—shampoo in them—

"I'm sorry I disappointed you," he says heartbrokenly. She can't take him seriously, can't see his face. Sorry, sorry for what? What is he apologizing for? It doesn't make sense, because Papa's the one who needs apologies if anything, for having been hurt, not her. She doesn't want an apology because Dad hadn't told her that any of this happened, and she hadn't fucking wanted to know in the first place.

"Don't talk to me like that," she says, and turns to face the wall, and thinks that she will never look at him again.

[soulcheri]

As he talks, Brooke listens, turning her whole body inward to face him. She enjoyed watching his eyes light up as he pondered the differences between having a son or daughter with her. It was nice to know the topic didn't scare him off or weird him out. Most guys would've ran at the first sign of their girlfriend displaying any baby fever. Your twenties were supposed to be carefree, not tethered or tied down by a family. It took Brooke awhile to accept that her twenties would look different than her peers. And so would Tyler's. Once he discovered the truth. The more time that passes, the more anxious Brooke gets. She's been acting so crazy lately. And this one thing would explain why that is. The longer she waited, the more mad she risked him getting that she didn't share this news with him sooner. But, she had to wonder if there was any possible way telling him right now would backfire or blow up in her face. "Tyler....." I'm pregnant.

The words never leave her lips on behalf of the child, they'd been previously watching. She ran smack dab into Tyler's back when trying to catch her latest bubble. "Oh my god. I am so sorry! Please forgive us. Aurora, what did I tell you about blowing bubbles near strangers?" The mother of the child continued to apologize profusely before she swept up little Aurora up in her arms and carried her back to their family's table while she kicked and screamed to keep playing. It was only after they were left alone again that Tyler's prior question finally registered. "I wouldn't care. I think I could love both equally. I would just want him or her to be healthy and happy." It seemed like such a cop out answer but it was true. So long as she didn't give birth to an alien she'd be fine. "Our baby isn't the only person I wish health and happiness on, though." There's a pause as she eyes him expectantly. "I want that for you, too." More than anything, Brooke just wished she could take away his pain and absorb it all herself. She attempts to, as she runs her fingers through his hair and leans up to finally return his kiss with fervor. He needed to know that despite their fights and how insanely neurotic she gets, her feelings haven't changed. She hoped by kissing him with the same, usual intensity, that would hopefully drive the point home.

The public display lasted for a few minutes, with Brooke eventually deepening it with tongue. He tasted less like vodka now and more like warm, decadent hot chocolate. "I'm worried about you," Brooke whispers once their kiss comes to a slow stop and her hand crawls up his chest. She meets his eyes only for hers to be filled with sadness. "What you said in texts last night, about feeling like you're drowning.... and finding you this morning hungover.... I'm concerned. Even the other night when you showed up at my party, your knuckles were bruised really badly. They still are." She pauses just to check, running her fingers over the dark purple blotches. "I can tell you haven't been sleeping. Are you having nightmares again? Would you tell me if something was wrong or I could do anything to help make it better?" He just said she saved him but, right now she doesn't feel like much of a savior at all. When she's the reason he's been feeling so powerless and overwhelmed. "I'm sorry about last night. And for being so neurotic these past couple of weeks. If you knew why, you'd understand. And I hope you wouldn't be upset when I tell you that I'm----"

"There you guys are. Please tell Isa, men do not bob for apples." The innuendo alone makes Volchok feel gay, as he sits down across from their friends. "Oh cool. A churro. I'm starving." Without even asking, Kev picks up the long cinnamon-sugar coated treat and takes a huge chunk out of it. "You guys wanna hit the cornmaze? See which one of us makes it out first?"

With his arm extended over Brooke's shoulders, Tyler caresses her arm in soft and affectionate strokes. He's not mindful of it, she just brings out this tenderness in him that he can't explain. It's a true testament to the nature versus nurture theory. If a person's characteristics are formed by their upbringing then Tyler should have been less capable of developing a love language based on physical intimacy. In spite of this, Tyler feels most loved whenever they are cuddling, hugging, or taking romantic baths together.

He was taking a careful sip of his hot chocolate when Brooke pointed out the little girl blowing bubbles into the air. Children were always his weak spot. They were so happy, innocent, and their bright, wondrous eyes were filled with magic. Unfortunately, Tyler wasn't afforded that same luxury growing up. He didn't get to build tree houses, make sand castles on the beach, or blow bubbles at a festival. Instead, he was made to scrub floors at the orphanage, wash dishes, and go to bed at night without parents. Christmases, Easters, Thanksgivings -- they were hardly ever celebrated. He never stayed with a family long enough to be included in their traditions. So when he turned twelve, he let his hope die. Then at sixteen, he promised himself he would have his own family someday. That was around the time he met Jake, Brooke, and Nina. The town events, family gatherings, and vacations -- they gave him hope. That's why Rebecca McKenzie sent him to France. She wanted to show him that anything could be possible with the right people. And she was right, because that was the night he took Brooke's virginity and fell in love with her.

"Yeah, she's adorable." Tyler smiles as a bubble pops on his head. Brooke's question takes him by surprise at first but, in a good way. He never gave much thought to what gender he would prefer if he was ever lucky enough to become a dad. "Having a little girl would be nice. If she has your pretty eyes I would be wrapped around her finger. So that would be bad. How would I be expected to tell her no? I can't even tell you no." Brooke could ask him for literally anything and he would give it to her. They weren't even supposed to be together because of the Vipers threat against her, but he couldn't stay away. Then he made things public this morning when he uploaded a picture of them to his Instagram. That was his way of telling Brooke, he belongs to her. This way she won't ever have to question that again. "I wouldn't want my son to have any tattoos, though. I got mine because I wanted to look different. I didn't want to be a pretty boy. I needed to be tough, guarded. I wanted people to be afraid of me. If I have a son, he'll be loved. He won't want to spread fear to other people. He'll have too much love in his heart for that." Tyler smiles and looks up at her. They were close enough for their faces to touch. "But if we have a boy and a girl. Then he has to be tough. Because he'll have to protect her. Or maybe she'll be the one protecting him. If you taught me anything, its that girls can save boys too. You saved me. You save me every day you're here." To bring things back around, he takes her hand into his. "What about you? Would you want a little girl who you can teach ballet to and go shopping with? Or a little boy who will protect you from monsters and dragons?"

[altocat]

We all know and love that cats purr when happy, but they also purr to calm themselves down when stressed- this is mostly a fully automatic reaction, so i gotta say: I’m just imagining during CC when Seph was completely drowning in stress and emotions, him walking around just silently purring to himself (🥲). I have to ask as you always have the best ideas: do you have any headcanons/thoughts on Seph stress purring/other coping habits? (in need of a lovely angsty snack and since we are all on the catboi rampage~)

[Also on a completely different note, hope you are doing well and i just wanted to say that you’re an absolute gift to this fandom/community with your wonderful writings 🫶]

Anon, you're gonna make me cry. Thank you so much for your kind words. I'm so thankful to all of you.

Crack headcanons aside, I do think Seph makes strange, almost animalistic noises from time to time. I like the idea of Seph being very much human, but also possessing a kind of otherworldly animal-like quality to him that sets him apart from others. Through growls, purrs, or even whines. It all hints that maybe there's something...unnatural lurking under the surface, which he later finds out is Jenova 8'D

To answer your question though, in terms of coping, Seph mostly keeps to himself when upset. He disappears into his room for hours at a time and uses said time to burrow under the sheets, shut off all the lights, excessively groom himself, or just kinda lay there. He doesn't really sleep so much as go into a kind of lethargic coma state, just laying there with his eyes open and his mind a million miles away. So he isn't really getting that much rest.

Sephiroth also self-soothes by holding himself. This is reserved through private time alone where no one can see. The idea of physical closeness simultaneously attracts and repels him, due to his shattered attachment issues growing up. So sometimes, he'll just scrunch up under the blankets, purr to himself, and just kind of wrap his arms around himself in a self-hug. He doesn't know why he does it. Or what he could gain from it. Maybe it's something missing that was taken from him. Or maybe he senses something or someone he longs to be close to more than anything else. It's a raw, unsettling feeling and he feels guilty and childish about it afterwards. A NEED. But a need he can't really articulate or understand. And a need that always follows him, has followed him his entire life. Following his descent into madness, he uses his wing to curl around himself, pressing himself into the feathers and sort of tucking himself away.

He occasionally feels the need for regression, trying to picture happier, more nostalgic memories to sink back into. There aren't many. And after Angeal and Genesis are gone, he can't retreat back into their time together. So sometimes, he mostly just burrows away towards his brief time with Gast. Being small and encouraged and cared for. And one of the few times before Hojo where the touch of an authority figure felt warm and comforting and safe.

Sephiroth, under no circumstances, likes to appear weak in front of others. Part of it is his pride and part of it is his own need to remain in control and responsible for his men and his organization. But I think, realistically, Sephiroth's upbringing would have either turned him into a complete sociopath or a nervous wreck. And since he clearly isn't the former in CC, I enjoy exploring the idea of a more vulnerable, secretly neurotic Sephiroth that struggles with a great deal of internal pain and confusion, and no true way of understanding just what it is that will fix him, at least not without an outside party helping him.

[duckielover151]

Progress: Prologue Complete

I have this neurotic tendency thing about going through an entire series chronologically, even when I know the games/tv shows/whatever aren't all connected. Hence why I've been slogging through the remakes of the earliest Final Fantasy games for the past few years.

I started Fire Emblem last night. I am very ready for this journey.

I first became aware of the series as a pretty young child, while reading the character bios in Super Smash Bros. (Melee). Roy and Marth were by far the coolest characters, and it frustrated me to no end that I couldn't go play their games. Because at the time, the Fire Emblem games weren't being released outside of Japan.

Enter the DS remake of what I believe to be the very first FE game-> Fire Emblem: Shadow Dragon.

I'm enjoying it quite a lot so far. As the years passed and more games got released-- and the series got more popular-- I came to view FE in a more serious light. I knew of it as the games where the deaths were real: Once someone's health reaches zero, they disappear from the game entirely. And as daunting as that was, it's an aspect I really admire. I find really interesting now, as I've finally seen firsthand the effort that went into crafting these characters. They all have set names and their own dialogue and unique designs. That the creators would be willing to kill them off for good if the player messed up is kind of impressive to me. In a sort of brutal way. And I love games that have the potential for every single playthrough to be a different experience, even if the story remains the same.

I just finished the Prologues... And I'm already at two deaths. ^^'

There's a scripted one where you have to choose to leave one person behind as a decoy. I think. I toyed with the idea of just trying to make a run for it with all of them but ultimately decided to just do as the game asked. I had just picked up a sixth party member and thought this might be their clever way of capping you at five without explicitly saying so. (Though I am interested if anyone knows if you can get away with them all.)

I sacrificed Cain.

I wish I could say some serious thought went into this decision but... It's just so early into the game! I'm just starting to even be able to tell them all apart! Cain was the only one who'd taken real damage, so he became the decoy. I don't feel too bad about that one.

Gordin on the other hand...

Gordin's death was 100% a fuck up on my part. I was still learning the controls and accidentally skipped the rest of my team's turn somehow, and he ended up paying the price. I was given control back and he was just gone. So I assume that means death.

Sorry, Gordin. You were on my team for a total of, like, 90 seconds, but I'll try to remember you going forward. RIP.

It's pretty great so far, though. It's kind of the Nuzlocke principle: You're more likely to get attached to characters if there are real consequences behind losing them in battle. I like that. And the way they've set up each characters' skills from the start is great too. I really like that the two older characters-- Jagen and Frey-- are significantly stronger, even though you play the first leg of the journey with just Marth, so he naturally has a few levels over everyone else by the time they join the party.

I'm not loving so much that Marth is the only one capable of performing the big important story tasks-- like opening the door to the prison. I'd had someone else in place in front of the door, only to realize he didn't have the power to use the key. So I had to waste a whole turn so I could then move him back out of position and put Marth there instead. It just felt kind of dumb. (Are we a team or not?!) But no game is perfect. I'm really looking forward to playing more of it. And hating that I decided to start it the night before I have two doubles scheduled so I won't be able to play again until this weekend. ^^'

[meet-me-in-the-kitchen]

Hi!!! I've just gotten my wisdom teeth removed and I'm emotional wrecked. Who knew I would miss those little shits? Anyway, could you maybe write something short about Y/n having her wisdom teeth removed and being super sad and in pain and Harry is just there to help her feel better? I love your writing and honestly read all of your work twice at the least. ILY

ANESTHESIA AND LETTING GO

(She would stare at him like he was god’s single greatest gift to humanity.)

“You’re gonna take care of me?” she garbled, gaping so he could see the gauze squished into her mouth and a little bit of blood trickling out of the recent incisions. He tried both not laughing or wincing, but couldn’t help an endeared little smirk tugging at the corner of his lips at her genuinely awed expression, as if she couldn’t believe he was actually there. Thsy’d had to remind her a few times that he was her boyfriend, which worried him a bit at first—he reckoned he’d watched The Vow a few too many times.

“Yes, lovie,” he’d rasped, a warm chuckle rumbling in his chest as he brushed away a lock of hair that was dangling dangerously close to her open mouth. This seemed to cheer her up, because she made a contented little cooing noise, the kind you would expect to come from a woodland creature or a baby, before nuzzling her cheek against his knuckles, gazing up at him shyly while blushing a bit. The older dentist in the room had sighed wistfully while passing by for her post-operative check-up, while her younger assistant sniffed jealously. Loopy from drugs or not, y/n took one look at the woman’s lustful gaze on harry’s bottom and glared at her fiercely, mouth full of gauze. He’d said he was her boyfriend, hadn’t he? That made her his girlfriend and thus perfectly eligible to grab his...

“Oh!” Harry yelped in surprise when y/n’s hands reached behind him and greedily squeezed a handful of his bubbly bottom, a gesture usually performed the other way round, not that he was protesting.

“She’s a bit loopy,” Harry explained sheepishly, a little pink in the cheeks, to the dental assistant, who was now huffing and sneering down at her clipboard. y/n simply batted her eyelashes, mouth still wide open, while Harry gently placed her hands down and she sneakily let them travel down his back and then deliver a firm smack to his backside.

“I can see that,” the assistant muttered darkly. She stuck her nose up in the air, and marched out of the room.

Satisfied that her nemesis was out of the picture, y/n settled back into the chair politely and thought back to what Harry had said before about how he was gonna take care of her and how the smooth planes of his perfectly sculpted face had felt against her cheek; thoughts that once again send blood rushing to her cheeks, and send her into a fit of cute giggles, staring up at the ceiling but not particularly anything as she does so with fingers pressed slightly to her puffy lips.

“Proper spanked me in front of the dental assistant only moments ago, love, and now you’re goin’ all blushy on me,” Harry teased lowly, his own dimple poking out as this sent his girlfriend into even louder giggles, ones that she covered with her hands.

After leaving the dentist’s office, however, things had quickly taken a turn for the worse once the drugs slowly exited y/n’s system. dental pain is quite arguably one of the most excruciating pains to exist on the face of this planet. especially if you’re the one going through it. and besides the physical pain...y/n seemed to be having some attachment issues to her teeth, as well.

“...Harry?” y/n whimpered, curling further into her boyfriend’s chest and looking dolefully up at him with wide, tear-filled eyes. His forest green eyes flitted to hers in surprise of her sudden wakefulness. She’d been silent most of the car ride back, after ten minutes of initial happiness and humming his songs loudly under her breath. Once they were back home, she’d clung to his side, and he had to carry her up the steps to their flat, bridal style, because she was kind of flopping all over the place, but he didn’t mind an excuse to hold her so close to him. He helped her into a jersey that smelled just like him to comfort her while she was still neurotically out of it, her cheek squished to his chest while he put Tiger King on Netflix, but admittedly paid more attention to he, looking down every now and then to see a deep-set frown on her fresh face.

“What is it, baby?” he asked. She decided he loved his voice as he talked to her like this, because it was low and pleasant and he took his time saying each word, so it rolled off his tongue like syrup with authenticity and an accent that knew no exact heritage, but Harry. His green eyes were attentive, fingers stroking down her back. “do you need anything?”

“I hurt,” she sniffled, lips trembling. He pouted in response, turning over so he could hold her properly, hips melding together.

“‘M sorry. Do you want more medicine?”

“No,” she said indignantly, like it was obviously not what she would want.

“You sure?” he asked slowly, eyebrows raising. “I thought it hurt?”

“Not that,” she shook her head, eyes shifting to her nervously twisting fingers heartbreakingly. her lips trembled a bit, and Harry grew alarmed. He was him, so he’d naturally spent hours on WebMd, reading up on the side-effects of even such a common procedure as wisdom teeth removal. Had the dentist damaged the crowns of any other teeth? had she hurt y/n’s gums? what if—

“What’s wrong then, hm?”

“I— I just...” she burst into tears, sobs breaking as she choked out an explanation. In a hushed voice, she confessed: “I miss my wisdom teeth!”

He blinked once. Twice.

“You...” he paused. “Miss your teeth?”

y/n nodded, big eyes filling with tears again at the mention of her long departed acquaintances.

“Like...they were always there for me, you know?” she garbled, tears slipping down her face as Harry frantically tries to swipe them off her cheeks with his own thumbs, while also confirming that his girlfriend has, indeed, finally lost it.

“I mean,” Y/N took a deep breath before diving into a heartfelt monologue dedicated to her teeth. “I could be going through the worst day ever, and i could be a total bitch and most people would probably leave, but my teeth never left me. and like, they never even wanted to leave and they were always there, but I never even tried to make them feel wanted,” she sniffled, blinking back tears dramatically while Harry rubbed the small of her back, handing her a tissue she blew her nose into. “I know that humans don’t need them to chew on raw animals anymore, but...can you imagine how that feels?” She empathized, emotion in her voice, “to constantly be there for this total bitch and then she just wakes up one day and feels a pinch in her mouth—“

“Not a pinch,” Harry muttered defensively, recalling Y/N screaming bloody murder the night before, but unsure as to why he’s defending her from...her.

“—and decides to tear them apart, evicting from the only place they’ve ever really known. I didn’t even say goodbye, and it makes my heart sad,” Y/N aid so defeatedly, it kind of breaks Harry’s heart, too.

“And you know the worst thing,” she whispered brokenly: “they never even saw it coming.”

“Okay, that’s enough,” he stated, wiping away her tears delicately, watching her face until each one was gone, a bare sniffle the only reminder she’d been crying. “I love you too much to let you do this to yourself. We’re gonna watch a rom-com, and...”

“But, I never even named them!” she gasped wetly. He ignored her as she murmured alejandro, wisdom the wisdom tooth, and other potential names for her deceased teeth; while simultaneously contemplating if she could break into the dentist’s dustbin and maybe sneak back her teeth.

But when the day comes to an end and the drugs are flushed out of Y/N’s system, Harry takes care of her. He makes sure Y/N’s getting enough water and eating well; sets a timer to wake her up from her naps and feed her the bitter medicine her scowl suggests she wouldn’t take if it weren’t for him. He would make sure to replace her gauze even if she’s a bit squirmy from all the blood in her mouth, and most definitely wouldn’t be stingy when it came to cuddling; squeezing her so tight with his strong arms, trying his best to minimize the pain as much as possible. that meant pressing light kisses to her puffy cheeks. When she’d be up from an aching mouth, he’d be the one putting his hand under her jaw, massaging lightly, to help relieve some of the ache. He make sure her food was soft and the right consistency, and hold back her hair when Y/N’d inevitably puke from the taste of her medicine, or soothingly rub his warm hand over her back when she was tremoring from the anesthesia leaving her freezing.

“Are you staying?” Y/N asked in the morning, yawning as Harry pulled her up to his chest, stroking her hair.

“Yes,” he nodded, lips pressed to the side of her forehead. “Unless you want me to go.”

Because like her wisdom teeth, Harry would never let go.

MASTERLIST

[magicalswimmingsubmarine]

Wendy thought it was sweet he wanted to come. She had been ignoring a few of his texts lately, hadn't she? She had told him he didn't have to, that she'd call him after, but every time she'd say that it was followed up by texts the next morning after radio silence, "sorry fell asleep!" followed by a dozen sad faces so this made sense. She was happy he came anyway, she was starting to really miss that puppy dog face and busy brows of his.

It was getting pretty bad, she was dozing off in class, too. She'd stay awake up all night after a new batch of photos, wanting to see them, glue them into her brain before she forgot the feeling she had with each one. And each one was a different feeling. Like when she took a picture of her neighbor's dog taking air bites out of the sprinkler, the first one she took when she finally got it charged up, or when the school Mascot waved at the camera, with the flash you could kinda see who was inside the mesh.

"You know me," Wendy muttered, eye pressed to the little Panasonic Lumix the school gave her for 'documentarian purposes.' "I find binomials incredibly..." She zoomed in. Her cheek squished against the viewfinder. "...Sexy."" It hard enough getting an interesting shot of someone contemplating intensely and not much else; That is, until one of the kids �� maybe from Eastview, furrowed his eyebrows so hard he started breaking out in a sweat, eyes neurotically popping out of his head. There were veins bulging all over him, it was freaky. Wendy squinted. Binomial expansions? Her eyebrows lifted, as she got kind of interested in seeing the problem solved then. Wendy quickly snapped a picture, and she cranked it again to take another one, but Jason made her laugh, and her giggle threw the shot off completely. Her smile faded a bit, "Shit," she whispered and pulled her face back to take a look at it. A shot of the teacher's receding hairline, every drop of sweat captured gleaming under fluorescent lights. Her nose crinkled into a small scowl. She turned the screen towards Jay without a word, her face sagging as she scrolled through the previous pictures: A wad of snot sliding down someone's nose, various other body fluids exiting facial cavities. her face a mix of bewilderment and slight anxiety. "I'm going to ruin the yearbook," she said, not entirely joking.

❥ |   MAGICALSWIMMINGSUBMARINE

 jason can't help the quiet chuckle from leaving his lips, head shaking with amusement over the whole situation he'd found himself in.

 the yearbook was something wendy had been taking pretty seriously — way more than any of the other members of the yearbook committee, that was for sure. none of them were sat in the mckinley high gymnasium at 7:30 on a thursday night for the mathletes.

 when wendy had turned him down for the night due to the obligation, he insisted he tag along. it wasn't his crowd, but he didn't mind, so long as the two of them got some time together. of course, there had been several double takes at the sight of jason wise in attendance for such an after school activity. he did his best to ignore their confused gawking, trying to actually invest himself on the competition, but trying to follow along felt like trying to understand a foreign language.

 he dropped his voice to a quiet whisper as he leaned into wendy's side.

 ❝  gotta say, wen ...❞  he clicked his tongue, tone playful and sarcastic. ❝  this is some real exhilarating stuff ... ❞

[crones-trash]

I was talking to my friend the other day and we have an interesting theory and I would like your opinion on it. We were discussing Brad Pitt and how he “over corrects” which leads to further unhappiness and more rash decisions. I think Calvin is this way as well.

For instance, Brad went from totally high maintenance Gwyneth Paltrow to extremely laid back Jennifer Aniston, got bored and then went to Angelina Jolie who was fresh off of her marriage to Billy Bob and wearing vials of blood around her neck and open about her sexual relationships (this is not a drag, I promise, just that she was totally opposite Jennifer and uptight socialite Gwyneth). It seems as if Calvin fits into the same pattern.

Calvin went from non famous Sophie and Sophia to VS models and Rita who was not just famous, but kind of an exhibitionist with what she told to the press. I remember Rita giving an interview about being in a relationship (idk if she mentioned names, but it was implied to be about Calvin) where she talked about her partner just shut off like a light switch and went from very hot to cold all of the sudden. I just thought Calvin didn’t like the tabloid attention on their relationship. I suspected I was right when he started dating Aarika who was laid back, private and not famous. I remember seeing them relaxing on the beach and then BAM! Out of nowhere he dropped Aarika for the most famous pop star and paparazzi hunted star in the world. It was obvious he didn’t like that he got even more attention, and so much of it negative, than him and Rita. So then he eventually went back to Aarika for what I thought would be a quiet life, only to change his mind AGAIN. Now he is yet again with someone who it seems (although we could be wrong) is the total opposite of Aarika. It feels like Calvin makes a decision, decides he’s bored or unhappy, makes the OPPOSITE decision, then switches back like a pendulum.

His career decision as of late feels this way as well. He went from being THE most famous DJ, to pulling back and living a nice quiet life farming. He wasn’t retired, he still had major collabs and the success of FWB1, but he had pulled back from celebrity and I thought he would go forward and be successful of course, but not as the same fame level as 2013-2015. Now he is in hyper work mode. Which is not a bad thing and no way am I dragging him. But it’s very much a 180 turn.

I know men like this in real life. They aren’t happy, so they do the exact opposite and it annoys me and I feel it’s extremely immature. It’s what teenagers and men having a mid life crisis do. And it’s always the women in their life who has stood beside them that gets hurt and tossed aside. Anyway I’m sorry this was a very long ask lol. I just wanted your opinion. I’m looking forward to FWB2. I’m just not going to be invested in Calvin’s personal life anymore.

My goodness, the last time I sent an Anon message, which was years ago, there was a word limit! I feel like I should say "use your own blog" but I completely understand if you're a Tumblr User whose blog exists only to allow you to send Anon messages & have private chats. That's what I intended to do when I signed in. HA! Now. I'm going to encourage you to use it because you've given reasoned examples to support your POV & I truly respect that. We could re-blog each other!

Also, I fucking agree w/ you! The last few years, I believed Calvin had matured into having a balanced life w/ a solid commitment. I always knew he was a neurotic mess but hoped he had it under control. Dumping Aarika—AGAIN— blew away that false impression. My immediate explanation was: he's having a mid-life crisis.

But, I think you've proven HE'S ALWAYS BEEN THIS WAY! He's a fucking fickle egocentric hot/cold guy who can't make up his mind about what he wants! And frankly, I can't stand watching him fuck up his life again!

OTOH, there's this:

And OMG! I can't wait to hear & see this!

It sounds like something I'm gonna love! Ya'know, genius is inherently flawed. We can still love his music while not liking the hopelessly immature person he currently seems to be. Throwing out the baby w/ the bathwater is especially stupid when that spoiled rotten baby creates glorious music!

[vaguely-concerned]

Chapters: 5/5 Fandom: League of Legends Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Malcolm Graves/Twisted Fate Characters: Malcolm Graves, Twisted Fate Additional Tags: Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Hand Jobs, Brief Mention of Past Child Abuse, (Momma Graves did some questionable parenting), They think they're doing friends to fuckbuddies to lovers, but NEWSFLASH ASSHOLES YOU WERE IN LOVE THE ENTIRE TIME, Light Bondage, Idiots in Love, Porn with Feelings, graves pov, Mutual Pining, Reconciliation Summary:

“Malcolm, I don’t think I’ve ever had to spell it out for a man before that I’m offering to suck him off,” T.F. sighs mournfully, letting his head fall back against the wall with a gentle thud.

Graves returns dejectedly from an interrupted one night stand and T.F. suggests that they establish a mutually beneficial arrangement for situations like these; things, as they say, escalate quickly from there. Starts when they're young and continues all the way to the current day.

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

I, uh, sort of accidentally posted this just now? (Turns out when they say ‘post this chapter’ in each chapter they do not mean ‘officially-ish add this chapter to the draft to fill out the ‘chapter 1/5′ part up there’, it really does mean ‘post the whole shebang right now yeeHAW!’, which is good to know for the future hahaha). I had sort of meant to neurotically tinker with it for a few more hours, as is usually my process, but I’m taking this as the universe gently giving me the sign to let it try its wings and fly off. 

Anyway the premise is basically ‘what if they started sleeping together way back then but in no way let that get in the way of the astronomical levels of oblivious pining going on’ lol 

[weltonbmarsland]

Part Two - The Photo (You Know The One)

I couldn't remember when my last orgasm had been. The last couple of years had been a tumble of too sad, too occupied, too back-home-in-my-parents'-house, too tired, too guilty to take a spot of pleasure. Hard to think sexy thoughts when you've just done three days in a row of laundering diarrhoea accidents. And being in the midst of menopause (fucking finally! yes! fuck off you useless horrible thing!) leant it all a sense of... maybe I'm entering my husk-like crone era now.

Had a fall in the street which really knocked my confidence around. I come from a long line of tiny, formidable Northern women who charge about the place, getting stuff done (and they won't take their coat off, pet, 'cos they're not stopping) and to suddenly be met with the reality that I must slow down and take care when I'm out in the world made me feel very vulnerable. I couldn't trust my own feet anymore.

Started volunteering at a small museum in the city. Wonderful in so many ways, but caused a few spikes in my social anxiety. Eh. I'll fucking cope.

Friends had given us a log-in to their media server ages ago, but sometime in May 2024 I started using it in earnest to catch up on some movies and shows I hadn't had time or concentration for the last few years. And on the 4th of June I made the awwwwwesome decision to catch up on a little show called Inside No.9 (I'd seen s1 and s2 when Australian telly deigned to air them, but nowt since).

Remember the gay man I'd been in a relationship with in the late '80s, the one who talked me out of pursuing transition? One night in the middle of 1999, I opened my front door to find him -freshly returned from a holiday in the UK- standing on my threshold with a plastic bag full of VHS tapes which he held up and solemnly told me, “You have GOT to see this!” Which is how I first came to see The League Of Gentlemen.

The Gents have stayed pretty firmly on my radar ever since. Easily done when Mark, Steve & Reece have become somewhat ubiquitous on British telly (bless 'em!), and that the ABC network here in Australia has been fairly good at airing a lot of their work (even if I did have to watch Psychoville on my own while D hid in another room 'cos he's scared of clowns). Having all three of them turn up in episode 3 of Good Omens back in 2019, for instance, was the deciding factor in me wandering into GOmens fandom.

The big difference in this time and place, while binge-watching 8 series of IN9 in three days whilst feeling run-down and menopausal and vulnerable and neurotic, is that Reece Shearsmith simply GLOWED out of my tv screen. Yeah, I'd fancied Benjamin Denton. Of course I'd thought Jeremy Goode was gorgeous. But this... just performance after performance after performance of such stunning brilliance and beauty... I was absolutely besotted.

And about six weeks into this besotted state, while labouring one day down some fandom rabbithole or another, I happened upon The Photo (you know the one).

Reece, a man of strong selfie-game, had tweeted it well over a decade ago. A photo of him wearing a Psychoville-inspired tshirt. Just his torso – should I feel a little bad about that, that it's just a part of him? I mean, he took it, he chose it to post, he tweeted it out into the world, I can only conclude that Reece liked it, so I don't think I should feel it reflects badly on me if I also like it. But it's just so incredibly... carnal, I suppose. It's JUST his body; appreciating this picture is undeniably not showing appreciation right this moment for his mind or many talents or even the windows-to-his-soul.

Hips to clavicles. The strong sweep of his waist. Jelly across his tits.

Literally, my jaw dropped. And figuratively, a light inside me got switched on.

I suddenly had the capacity for desire again, for wanking again (hello, old friend). So, not in my husk-like crone era just yet. Good to know.

I hadn't completed a single piece of fiction writing since my novel was published at the end of 2017, but inspiration descended and compelled me to write again. I finished a short story! And then I finished a sequel to it! I could've wept with relief.

I don't have to physically check the locks every morning after D leaves anymore (though I still do some days). I don't worry about the gas stove as much (though I double-check after having used it). I didn't take Sparty's ashes to bed on his death anniversary this year (though I still wore his collar for a couple of days).

I'm a fuck-up lugging around too much grief and a drinking problem. But I'm a fuck-up with a wonderful partner, with a lovely little corner-of-a-corner-of-a-bit-down-a-corridor of fandom, and with a laminated copy of The Photo sitting on my writing desk, always in my periphery vision.

Thank you, Reece. Jolly good. (JELLY!)

The Photo (You Know The One)

This is a personal post. Very personal. Very waffling. And TMI. And deals with some mental health issues (and grief stuff and trans stuff and alcohol), so if you decide to read on, be forewarned. Apparently it's too big for tumblr's liking, so i'll have to post this part one then reblog that with part two added on. (seriously, tumblr, it's only just over 1500 words! just lemme post the stupid thing!)

I kept promising @fecklesheckleshacklesschmeckles that I'd try and explain eventually about how The Photo (you know the one) wrought its change upon me. And I got up early this morning and just started waffling and it became this. Apologies in advance! :)

I Have Issues

I'll try to get this background stuff out of the way quick as possible.

~ Alcohol Abuse Issues - see end of section for notes

~ Mental Health Issues - Introvert, social anxiety, chronically self-conscious, shy, past panic attacks, breakdowns in 1989 & 1997, lifelong cycles of depressive episodes, short manic episodes, and some generalised sort of... stasis.

~ Gender Issues - miserable late-childhood and adolescence through to young adulthood due to railing (angry fucking RAILING!!) at myself, at my femininity, at my body spectacularly failing to be the image in my head. Seriously started looking into medical transition in my late teens (we're still in the 1980s here, folks!) but got talked out of it by the gay man I was in a relationship with. Found some self acceptance in my 20s and managed to stop railing so hard at things I couldn't change / stop being quite so angry at myself all the time for soomit that wasn't even my fault. Found a wonderful bi man in my early 30s who completely accepts me (yay!)

~ Grief Issues - *takes a deep breath*

My only sister died in 1992, my closest sibling (brother, Alan) died in 2005, then between 2013 and 2019 we lost two more of my brothers and my brother-in-law (my sister's widower). I'm the youngest of 6 but there's only 2 of us left now.

There's also my best friend from childhood, one my closest fandom friends, others... To live is to grieve, right? There's no life (or love) without death, etc, etc. You have to accept it or you'll drown.

Our cat Eddy died the week before Xmas 2021 and just 20 days later, in the first week of 2022, we had to have my cat familiar, Sparty, put to sleep because his cancer had spread. All the human deaths I've absorbed and kept going from, but THIS was the death that made me weird.

During the days, while D was at work, I became -for the very first time in my life- the only living thing in the household. Even my potted umbrella tree (a present from my sister, it had ended up being in my life longer than my sister had), developed a fungal infection and died.

I developed some new neuroses. I started having to physically check the locks after D had left in the mornings. Check the knobs on the gas stove. When the first anniversary of Sparty's death rolled around, I wore his collar around my wrist for the day and slept that night with his ashes urn in the bed with me.

Are you guys keeping up with this list of misery okay? Because then... my Mum was diagnosed with terminal cancer.

March to May 2023, I spent a lot of time cleaning cleaning cleaning Mum & Dad's house while we all waited for a place in palliative care to come available. Some of those days were very fraught, as I'm sure you can imagine.

Mum died in the May. Dad tried living on his own for a bit but his health slid, too. By the September, my brother David and I started taking it in turns to spend 3-4 days at a time living with Dad, so that he'd never be on his own in the house. It was exhausting and unsustainable (would've been easier if we'd had a few other siblings around to help share the load!), but we did what had to be done.

Finally, at the start of February last year, Dad went into a care facility (initially just for 4 weeks of respite care, and to see if he liked the place; he's continued living there and is the most independent resident they have).

I could half-way breathe out again.

End-of-section Notes:

Q - Why do you abuse alcohol, Welton?

A - *refer above*