#and a loooooooooong ass post I mean my goodness

[gryfon-spanish-werewolf]

@p-o-n-i the BIGGEST apologies for not seeing this. In perfect honesty I’m not used to people commenting on my posts and so forgot to check^^;

BUT YES: Nizura! My first ever Pathfinder/DnD character. I emphasize first because I, according to my DM, went CoMpleTELY overboard on her backstory and ended up several levels ahead of my co-adventurers. I was under the mistaken impression that I had to justify all aspects of my character, which is not the case, apparently. It’s all being toned down now but originally I had...

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Nizura (Nih-zur-ah)

Half-orc aged ~30 yrs, daughter of a full orc woman and a human father. An inquisitor by class and designated Mom-Friend by personality. Dad’s out of the picture for ~reasons~. Nizura grew up in a small town located on a major trade road. The particular settlement she lived in was mostly populated by ex-militant orcs, half-orcs, and other “castaways” of society, so fairly diverse in a way with a lot of opportunities to learn and grow. Though she wasn’t always treated well outside of her home Nizura saw the good in those around her and grew empathetic instead of hardhearted. She’d always marvel at the tradesmen selling their wares and wondering what sort of things she could learn from them.

During her younger years Nizura’s mother was injured in a work accident so Nizura began to cook in her mother’s place. She discovered that she really enjoyed it and began cooking for others. She got so good that she apprenticed herself to a roadside shop owner– her cooking was now included in the wares and Nizura could have access to the strangers and knowledge that she yearned for.

In her teens there was a horde of hobgoblins roaming the area looking to expand their realm. When they came for the city the guards simply locked the place down, but Nizura’s sector was on the edge and far less protected (on account of, well, all the prejudice that swirls around orcs and half-orcs) and got hit hard. Fighters to the end, the orcs battled bravely, but the hobgoblins had numbers. As the larger and healthier orcs were dragged off Nizura caught sight of her mother among them. She ran after her but was quickly surrounded. The hobgoblins sneered, jabbing at her with their weapons and beating her with their fists. “Not as strong as a real orc, too savage to be nice servant. Not worth the trouble.” They tied her to a post in the center of the village and left her to die. It wasn’t until the next morning that a survivor found and released her, green skin dark with bruises, her mouth torn and bloody where a blow had forced her tusk into her upper lip.

Despite her wounds Nizrua chased after her mother as soon as she could walk without wobbling. The trail was easy enough to follow, she just ran along the wheel marks and scores of blurred footprints. Unfortunately she did not get far. Only an hour into her journey and Nizura was stopped by a cry for help. Off to the the side of the road was a male dwarf collapsed into the ditch, covered in blood and unable to move. Nizura hesitated for only an instant before climbing down to him. The dwarf did not give his name but told her that he had attempted to escape from the hobgoblins. Instead of hauling him back into line they made an example: stay and live or run and die. A particularly nasty hobgoblin swung his morning star directly into the dwarf’s chest, puncturing a lung and caving in his chest. The impact was so great that the handle splintered and the head of the weapon fell with the dwarf into the ditch. Rather than retrieve the weapon the hobgoblin simply ripped another out of the hands of one of his smaller comrades.

Realizing the dwarf would not survive, Nizura stayed with him, comforting him 

in his last moments. She listened to his stories even as his voice became labored and wet. When he passed she buried him in the forest beyond the trail. A glint caught her eye as she returned to the road. The head of the morning star shone a dusky read in the light of the setting sun. A wave of fury washed over her and Nizura retrieved the object from the ditch. She would carry it with her to remind herself of the dwarf, her mother, and the hobgoblins who took them both. The shadows were long and Nizura did not if she could track them and remain safe in the dark. Heart heavy, she returned to her city and vowed to start anew the following day.

Back home Nizura faced a difficult choice. Her village was in ruins and those left behind were either too old, young, or ill to fend for themselves. Even though it tore at her Nizura chose to stay, and with some help from merchants that she had befriended and some sympathetic city folk, she was able to rebuild the houses and trade buildings. When the time came at last to go after her mother there was very little left to find. Three months had passed and their tracks had been covered by the comings and goings of merchants, animals, and travelers. Using every scrap of knowledge she’d learned, Nizura tried valiantly to pick up the trail. She spoke with everyone she could, sweet talked when she had to, intimidated, lied, and, if push came to shove, fought. As she traveled she pieced together that the hobgoblins had headed north, but no one seemed to have any recent news. Nizura traveled until she could no longer, arriving at Port Peril – a town of trade, booze, shipping, and pirates. It became increasingly clear that the hobgoblins had made their final stop here, finding passage across the Arcadian Ocean and possibly into the the scattered islands west of the Eye of Abendigo, the eternal hurricane.

Nizura was lost. She was far from home and knew not a single soul. She knew she wouldn’t make it on the open ocean, even if she could get a boat. Stricken with grief, Nizura wandered the streets with tear-filled eyes, jostled back and forth by passerby until she saw a flicker of white and red. In front of her was an old building, built of stone by many hands long ago with care and precision but now was worn and crusted white by the salt winds. A tattered banner blew in the sea breeze, emblazoned with a red rose growing from blood soaked pavement. Nizura felt compelled to enter. Inside was calm and darkness, the weight of the stones seeming to still the air around her. The room was short, almost a closet, with nothing but a raised dais and stone podium on which was placed a dusty book, pressed also with the emblem of the rose and bloodied cobblestones. A robed woman called out to her in a soft voice, revealing herself from behind an archway. She explained that this was a chapel dedicated to Milani, a deity and patron of those, “who fight against oppression and unjust rule.” The woman could see that Nizura was tired and offered her refuge and a place to sleep for the night. Nizura thanked her for her generosity but was suddenly brimming with questions: about Milani and her brand of justice, about her teachings and followers. The woman hid a smile in her cowl. She admit sadly that there were few who followed Milani in this place, seeded as it was with brigands, sell-swords, thieves and murderers. After hearing Nizura’s plight the woman took this as a sign, even more so when Nizura produced the head of the morning star, cleaned and glinting, into the candlelight. She said that such a weapon had been used by Milani herself and was often favored by those who followed her.

After that day Nizura entered into the tutelage of the Milanite, learning the ways of an Inquisitor. She traveled from her home to Port Peril, training her newfound divine skill in the chapel while keeping her leadership role in the village. The morning star re-forged by the son of the previous blacksmith and Nizura watched the process with a steely expression, unblinking as the hammer spit sparks this way and that. When it was finished she hefted the weapon once before swinging it downward with all her might, chunking a watermelon into splattered pieces, and pronounced it good.

A decade went by before Nizura heard any word about her mother or the  hobgoblins. She was re-reading the texts of Milani while waiting for a soup to  boil when she was hailed from outside. Nizura was used to this, as in the absence of other adult figures she had become a sort of guiding hand, dispute settler, and advice giver. “Nizura,” the messenger said in orcish, breathing heavily. He had come as quick as he could. “We... need your help. There’s a person.... wounded. It’s... it’s your mother.” Nizura dropped everything and ran out the door. If she’d had wings they couldn’t have carried her along faster. A huddled figure was being held by another young half-orc, keeping her upright. Nizura had burned her mother’s face into her memory the days she lost her, and seeing her like this was both a relief she’d never known and a great sorrow. Her mother was a shadow of her former self: muscle where they’d worked her and skin on bones every where else, skin dry and cracked, tusks broken, and joints chafed raw or scabbed over where the manacles had cut into her skin. Mother and daughter shared little words that day, finding themselves speechless with gratitude.

Nizura cooked her very best dishes and helped her mother heal day by day. When she was ready Nizura asked what had happened all those years ago and how her mother had come to be free and return to the village. The story chilled her to the bone. Mindless slaughter, spirit breaking work, creatures dying where they stood, starved or exhausted. Torture, merciless hobgoblin keepers, and vicious slave-on-slave or slave-on-beast combat for their cruel entertainment. It seemed that each new scar her mother pointed out on her body had an even more terrible tale than the last. Nizura did not dare ask about the scars she couldn’t see. “And through it all,” her mother murmured late one night as the fire crackled in the hearth and frogs croaked their mating calls, “like a poisonous mist, was your father.” Her mother told her that it was Nizura’s father who arranged transport from Port Peril to the hobgoblin empire. He was a clear benefactor and man of counsel to the various chieftains. He would watch the slaves toil below him, then he would leave for months at a time, always returning with plunder, be it people or treasure. Nizura’s mother never knew if he recognized her among the sea of green, grey, brown, red, and pale skins of her fellows. “But I knew him,” she growled. “I could never forget that man.”

As one search ended so another began. Nizura, full of righteous power and fury though she was, she did not think she could take down an army of hobgoblins alone. She was sickened by their ways, forcing others to do their dirty work, consequences be damned. But a middle man: a mover, a killer, a promoter of evil, that Nizura could deal with, especially if it was personal. Nizura returned to Port Peril to get some answers. With citizens she was patient, with wicked people she was not. If they were unwilling to answer her questions or, rarely, were unintimidated by her powerful presence, she found that a demonstration of what exactly blunt force trauma does to bones would have them singing in no time. Then Nizura would send them skipping or hobbling back to their betters, collecting more and more information each time. It attracted the attention of a half-elf by the name of Jennan. He too was looking for someone, and offered his skill as a sailor is Nizura could help track this person down. Nizura accepted his proposition and set out more determined than ever.

One way or another, her father would pay.

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Whew! I uh, accidentally wrote a novel here. I did saaaaay I went overboard, but seeing it all written out...

Thanks so much for being interested @p-o-n-i! Hope you enjoyed Nizura, even if it’s likely WAY more than you expected^^;

As an extra added tidbit, Jennan’s character is actually my brother, and we have plans to make them related in-game. Bet you can guess how ;)

[salty-ironstrange-shipper]

Could you maybe post a long-ass list of good ironstrange fics because at this point, there's nothing else to do and you seem like you have great taste

puppets on a string

Summary: Stephen Strange is a villain. But a hot one.

Words: 103,206 (incomplete)

This fic is courtesy of our very own @funkylittlebidiot​, so definitely give it a read!

Find a Way (to break the fall)

Summary: Stephen didn't think about it anymore. It had been buried deep beneath all the other shit he'd had to live through in the last couple of years and it didn't impact his day to day life in any way whatsoever. Until the day it does.

Words: 2,170

This one is short, but emotional and impactful. Warning for discussions of past rape/non-con.

The Brands We Carry

Summary: Tony Stark is almost thirteen years old when he gets ready to settle down to bed one early-early-morning and happens to look in the mirror on his childhood wall and catches sight of a circular brand on the skin above his heart.

“About fucking time,” Tony mutters, and goes to sleep without bothering to tell anybody he just cussed out a baby that’s only just crying its way into its new life somewhere on the planet.

The date is February 17, 1983. Happy birthday, whoever you are. Took you long enough.

Or: Tony Stark and Stephen Strange are soulmates. You'd think that would mean they would be perfect for each other right from the start, but it turns out that their soulbond is a long path of mutual distrust, dislike, and miscommunication. Just their luck.

Words: 10,497

I love a good soulmate au, and this is a good soulmate au. Very interesting look at both characters and also what happens if someone’s soulmate has  a not insignificant age gap (though they only meet in person for the first time as adults)

A Crown of Thorn and Shadows

Summary: Anthony Stark, King of Blood and Darkness, ruler of the Unseelie court, did not expect to find Prince Stephen Strange of the Seelie chained up in his torture chamber, cold iron being driven into his hands. Stephen Strange, a Seelie healer, never dreamed of finding himself in the court of nightmares, being cared for by the king that the Seelie called a monster. They must work together to find the traitors in two Faerie courts that have not spoken in over six hundred years and reclaim Stephen's memories before the courts descend into war once more.

Words: 58,465

Wonderful fantasy au, great worldbuilding and relationship buildup. Lots of fun.

Villain Stephen Strange and His Obsession with Tony Stark

Summary: Just a bunch of prompty oneshots that are partially based but 100% inspired by Tumblr IronStrange Posts. Rated T-M

Words: 1,029

Do I even have to explain it? This is just fun. 

Ten times outta nine, I’m a hand grenade

Summary: Though neither remembered that night, it turns out that Tony Stark and Stephen Strange had first encountered each other years earlier. Unfortunately, that might end up destroying the universe.

Words: 419,141

This is a loooooooooong boi. But oh, it’s a good one. Stephen and Tony basically go back in time, change the universe, and fall in love. It’s everything you could want from them. Complete with romance, angst, drama, and humor.

Where Severus Snape is hot, not a stalker, and somehow gets the girl

Summary: And then, as if he wasn’t already the most embarrassing estranged biological dad ever, Tony stopped in his tracks, raised his sunglasses (because of course he would wear sunglasses inside a lecture hall in April), and gave Professor Strange the most blatant, sustained once-over in the history of fuckboyness.

Then he put down his glasses, shot a winning smile at the teacher, and said, “Well, I’m Tony Stark, of course.”Or: Peter Parker is sick and wants to cut his Neuroscience class. Tony just wants to help (and maybe date his son's hot teacher). Stephen Strange just wants to give his lecture in peace.

Words: 2,387

Stephen is a college professor. Peter is his student. Tony is having too much fun with this.

You Remind Me of a Man

Summary: Tony Stark cannot stand the overly opinionated and egotistical Dr. Strange and the feeling is extremely mutual.

Words: 44,788

Perfect no-powers au for them. They’re assholes who fall in love and see another side to each other. It’s amazing, 10/10 would recommend.

I am here

Summary: There’s a technical reason Stephen must surrender the Time Stone to save Tony’s life. It has to be done, and that’s enough for him to do it. But just in case, the universe decides to give him a personal reason as well.

Words: 11,708

This one is so soft. Basically, while looking through time, Stephen keeps showing up in the past at various points throughout Tony’s life. And then they fall in love! Good for them.

T For Tony

Summary: Your soul mark is the first letter of your soulmate's name. Stephen has an 'A'. But he's in love with Tony. Cue anxiety, jealousy, angst.

Words: 2,794

They’re so stupid in this fic. It’s great. It took them so much effort to remember Anthony starts with an A. (I still think this fic should’ve been titled A For Tony, but I didn’t write it, so)

something taken, something new

Summary: The ChronicConnection implement and app allows a person that lives with chronic or illness-induced pain to transfer their burden temporarily to a willing loved one. Tony and Stephen sign up as beta testers.

Words: 14,541.

I must’ve recced this a thousand times ..... AND I’LL DO IT AGAIN. THIS FIC IS THE PERFECT MIXTURE OF SOFT AND ANGST AND IF YOU DON’T READ IT, YOU’RE WRONG.

15 Million

Summary: For every alternate reality there were ten thousand alternate realities from that. And from those ten thousand more. And then ten thousand more off each of those. And so it goes.

The Avengers win once. There’s ten thousand versions of it. 

Stephen Strange doesn’t know what to make of the fact that Tony Stark seems to be *his* victory.

Words: 2,755

Obligatory “Stephen looks through 15 million possible futures and falls in love with Tony in the process fic”. Can’t have a fic rec list without it.

Hero Swap AU

Summary: It's a boring day for the Avengers until Tony Stark attacks.

Words: 17,391.

Just pure, fun crack.

Only a Matter of Time

Summary: Captured by aliens, mistaken for a mating pair, Tony and Stephen find themselves having the universe’s most awkward honeymoon.

Words: 6,056.

Smut. Good smut, though. 

Sunrise in Exile

Summary: Tony does the math and realizes their best chance to save the universe is by... not confronting Thanos on his own turf. 

So he steals a wizard and a spider and a space ship. And he runs.

(Three humans and an A.I in space, the alien friendships they make along the way, and discovering how science and magic might coexist in a universe where they can be one and the same.)

Words: 352,079 (incomplete, has not been updated in a while)

A long fic set during Infinity War where they just ... run away to space. And it’s great.

Rewriting Icarus

Summary: Stephen and Tony, from the beginning to the end and beyond.

Words: 23,504

Pre-powers AU, except they fall in love then get powers. Sad, angsty, beautiful. 

variations on a theme

Summary: Stephen sees into millions of possibilities and finds only one where they win, but he never expected to end up falling in love with Tony Stark in almost every single one of them.

Words: 5,134

Another Stephen looks through the possible futures and falls in love with Tony? ... Guess you can’t have just one. 

Five’s A Party

Summary: It's an orgy fic, I'm not sure what else to say

Words: 2,639

... Not much I can add to that. Magic smut. 

A Lapse in Judgement

Summary: Stephen, the newly minted Sorcerer Supreme, is strong, powerful, and in control of his life in every micromanaged detail, because failure to do so could result in (another) cataclysmic event within the universe. He is. But then Stephen accepts an off-handed offer to spar from Tony Stark – a man who is Stephen’s non-magical equal, a man who Stephen barely sees outside of bi-weekly meetings and the few and far between fight against a villain – and Stark discovers Stephen’s biggest weakness, his most hateful secret that is a deeply fundamental part of Stephen’s psyche.

Except instead of judgement, and horror, and disgust, Stark meets him halfway, and a lapse in judgement turns into a possibility that could change their lives forever.

Words: 22,694

This is the first of a series which was just updated (haven’t finished reading the new part yet, looking forward to it) and is just a really good, surprisingly soft and emotional BDSM series/fic.

Ironstrange Fics and Ironstrange Cinematic Universe

Oh, how did these get here?

Yes, I’m reccing my own work. I’ve written 29 fics and 377,132 words for this ship, I think I’m entitled.

Ironstrange Fics is a collection of every ironstrange fic I’ve written, short, long, sweet, angst, and everything in between. Ironstrange Cinematic Universe (itself responsible for 49% of those 377k words) is my ironstrange rewrite of the MCU specifically. Please read, enjoy, and leave comments, I’m not updating any fics for a couple of weeks and I need the validation. 

[newtafterdark]

Taste of Metal - Chapter 12: Turning up the Volume -  [AO3 LINK]

The song Gordon is singing in this chapter is "I Hate to Dance" by Mustasch! Click here to listen to it!

PS: The alternative title for this chapter: "Gordon Goes Apeshit In A Healthy Way!! YEAH!! >:D"

- - - It was always something else to hear how your voice sounded like to everyone but yourself.

Gordon had been used to it for a long time, mostly thanks to the years he recorded music with his band, but seeing his new friends react to his recorded songs made him pause a bit in thought.

When he and Newton had founded “Black Velvet Rabbits” together, both of their voices were still in the middle of their second puberty. Uneven, scratchy at times… and by far not as resilient as they wanted them to be.

That didn’t mean it stopped either of them from putting their heart and soul into every song they played. It made their first few tapes rough to listen to, but Gordon felt a huge amount of fondness for them regardless. 

All their frustration with their lives, the school system, society, their bodies, their struggles with ADHD and BPD respectively-  it all went into their music. 

It was the sound of desperately struggling youths doing anything they could in their limited power to be heard.

Gordon was well aware that some of their former bandmates thought back to BVR and rolled their eyes at their gigs and “rockstar dreams”. He himself though? He was proud. Both of himself and Newton.  Proud of having this tangible proof that they got through one of the hardest times of their lives together, doing something that they had put together with no outside help, with no overbearing parental figures forcing them to succeed. They created music because it was the one thing they had complete control over… and it had been absolutely intoxicating and freeing at the same time. 

Even now, as their old recordings played in the background, Gordon found himself gently swaying side to side to the tempo of the tune, humming softly along as he was sorting through the remaining contents of the boxes on the floor.

He looked up from his spot, smiling fondly at Bubby letting out a cry of joy when he recognized another classic rock song that BVR had recorded a cover of. 

“Your band might sound like absolute ass but at least they had taste!”, he exclaimed, drumming happily along to the beat on the floor beside Gordon.

“Yeah… our sound quality wasn’t the greatest until… 2014, I think? ”, Gordon pondered out loud. “You’ll notice the change instantly though! Around that time we also actually figured out in which direction we wanted to take our style as well. Took us a while, I know, but… good things take time!”

Speaking of good things taking time- the construction of the pocket dimension within the storage closet seemed to be going nice and steady by the looks of it. 

Every time the doors opened and Tommy stepped out to take a small break, Gordon couldn’t help trying to catch a glimpse inside, which kept earning him a loud “NO PEAKING!” from Tommy- only for him to hear it echoed by Dr Coomer, Benrey and Joshua seconds later.

When eventually each member of the Science Team joined Tommy to help out with the closet, Gordon let himself be focused on his sorting task, Sunkist laying beside him as his only company for the time being. 

“Guess it’s only the two of us for a bit, huh?”, he said, giving the huge dog a few loving pats on her side. Sunkist let out an affirmative woof and rested her head on Gordon’s thigh, earning a smile from Gordon. 

He resumed swaying along to a new tune starting to play on the stereo, now allowing himself to add a few more subtle movements as well. 

He found himself nodding along to the rhythm, his long wavy hair swaying in a way it hadn’t in a very long time.

As the side of his right foot began to gently tap against the floor as well, Sunkist got up and pushed her head against Gordon’s shoulder. 

Gordon stared at her for a moment, unsure of what she expected him to do, but as the golden retriever started to gently dig into the carpet surprisingly in tune with the beat, something clicked in Gordon’s head.

He scrambled to get up on his feet, laughed as Sunkist let out a happy bark and started running excited circles around him when he started tapping his foot again.

It had been a while… but no one was in the room right now to judge him. And Sunkist, being the perfect and most supportive dog, would never make him feel guilty about any of this.

He looked down to his tapping feet, his hand closed into a fist as he assembles the old courage and opened his mouth-

“♫ I ain't a boring barfly…so please don't get me wrong, oh- Come on! Yeah, come on! I've been saying this for. Far. Too. LooooOOOONG!! ♪”

Gordon felt himself smile as he raised his voice, mirroring the energy of the younger version of it coming from the speakers.

As he moved his hips and head in rhythm to the beat of the tune, he leaned down towards Sunkist and decided at the moment that, hey, she might be the best audience he had in years - might as well sing for the best girl!

She positively bounced excitedly around Gordon’s feet as the man himself started to jump along with her and the music-

“♪ I haaaate to disappoint you! I'm not the guy you need- so, feel freeee! You can leeeeave! ‘Cause I'll nEVER SWING LIKE A MONKEY FROM. THE. TREEEEES! ♫”

Sunkist let out a loud approving bark at the sound of Gordon letting himself be loud, but this time fully because of joy, nothing like the pained and frustrated yelling he had done all throughout the simulation.

This was how Gordon was supposed to sound like. Loud, happy and confident-

“♪ It’s of great importance! This is what yOU. ALL. SHOULD. DOOOOO- ♫”

The possibility of complaining neighbours be damned, Gordon rushed over to this stereo and turned the volume significantly up, still mindful of Sunkist being in the room with him. No matter how perfect Tommy made her, Gordon really didn’t want to accidentally hurt her hearing.

He returned to moving around the living room, his steps becoming confident stomping as he basically had Sunkist follow his path between the furniture at this point. He ran his hand through his hair, letting the majority of it fall over the right side of his head, showing off the remainder of his undercut on the left in the process-

“♫ BANG YOUR HEAD CLEAN OFF, JUST DO IT!! STOMP YOUR FEET AND CLAP YOUR H-HANDS-!! ♪”

He roughly brushed away a barely formed tear from his right eye, opting to stomp his feet in place of clapping his hands to the beat. He wouldn’t let his pain and trauma cut this moment short. Singing had been his outlet for all his frustrations before, why shouldn’t he try and find out if it would still hold up with the new struggles he was facing?

“♫ I AM A HEAVY METAL GROOVER! - BANG YOUR HEAD ‘CAUSE I HATE TO DANCE! BANG YOUR HEAD ‘CAUSE I HATE TO DANCE! ♪”

Sunkist affectionately pressed herself against Gordon’s side, sensing the man’s wild mix of emotions running through his head. Gordon opted to give Sunkist’s back a pat to assure her that he was doing okay. That he needed to do this. To let this all out. 

He took a deep breath-

“♪ So take me away from the dance floor- Nemo saltat sobrius - Well, that's right... fucking right. I've been telling you for far too looooooOOOONG! ♫”

He closed his eyes, his focus now only on putting as much emphasis on the words as he could. As he used to. As Gordon Martini Freeman of the “Black Velvet Rabbits” had been known for.

“♫ I haaaate to disappoint you! But I'm not the guy you need- You can leeeeave, ‘cause to meee- DISCO. DIED. IN. 1983!! ♪”

He spread his arms, his head slightly falling back and his hair following suit… and he could almost feel the comforting heat of spotlights on his skin once more-

“♪ It’s of great importance! This is what yOU. ALL. SHOULD. DOOOOO!- ♫”

He bent back forward, letting himself go off into a poorly executed guitar solo as he headbanged to the beat, his hair flying back and forth, side to side-

“♫ BANG YOUR HEAD CLEAN OFF, JUST DO IT!! STOMP YOUR FEET AND CLAP YOUR HANDS-!!  I AM A HEAVY METAL GROOVER! - BANG YOUR HEAD ‘CAUSE I HATE TO DANCE! BANG YOUR HEAD ‘CAUSE I HATE TO DANCE! - BANG THE HEAD THAT DOESN’T BANG!!~ ♪”

Gordon stood there for a moment, out of breath, hair wild and messy, chest heaving and eyes blown wide. He was only pulled back into reality from his post-rockout brain by Sunkist jumping up on him and licking his face-

“Hahaha!! Yeah, this was fun, wasn’t it, big girl?! Thanks for the encouragement, Sunkist. I mean it. I… really needed that.”

He hugged her close before gently letting her get back on all fours, smiling as she let out a soft bark and pressed herself against his side once more, her tail wagging happily-

“Well, I’ll be damned. Sounds like you don’t sound like ass anymore after all!”

Gordon spun around, instantly locking eyes with Bubby, who was leaning against the frame of the closet, arms crossed and a smug smile on his face.

“H-How much of that did you-”

“I heard enough to know that my eardrums can stand the sound of it.”, Bubby answered, “You don’t sound half bad. Obviously out of practice, but… not awful.”

Gordon scratched the back of his neck, trying to process the rare compliment coming from the older scientist.

“Uh… thanks? A-ANYWAY- how’s the pocket dimension going?”, he quickly added to move the topic elsewhere.

Bubby rolled his eyes at Gordon's obvious deflection.

“It could go way faster in my opinion! But the hallway and the basic rooms are stable now. I won’t invite you in without the others agreeing on it too, but… it’s nice. Having your own space to do with as you please, as barren as it might be at the moment-”

In the time Bubby had spoken, Gordon had walked over to him, now resting his hand on the smaller man’s shoulder.

“Hey, I might not have the biggest savings, but that won’t stop me from helping you guys find stuff for your space, okay? I know a few places we could visit sometime this week! But… first I do want to go shopping with you all to let you pick stuff for your wardrobes!”

Bubby stared up to him, a slightly startled look on his face.

“You’ll… let us… pick?”

Gordon smiled softly, hoping it looked reassuring.

“Of course! As long as you all don’t get me into the reds with your purchases, you are free to pick as many things as you want, now that you all have your own space. Honestly… go wild! Did- Do you think I’d limit you? Bubby, you guys are my friends! If anything, I wholeheartedly encourage you to get lost for hours in the nearby thrift stores and find your own style- HURGH!-

Gordon found himself pulled into a tight hug- which only lasted for two seconds.

As Bubby pulled back, he looked away, brows furrowed.

“Thanks. You- you don’t get how much this means to- ...thank you, Gordon.”

“You’re welcome. Uh… should I go get us some food for when you guys are done or-”

“GOD! YES! Fuck off before this moment gets even more awkward!”, Bubby exclaimed with frustration, a hint of a smile tugging on the edge of his mouth.

Gordon threw up his hand in mock defence, not even trying to hide his grin.

[cryptid-crusader]

My Tumblr History (feat. a LOT of rambling, I apologize)

I’ve been on Tumblr 9 years. I came to Tumblr from Xanga (which IDK if that’s even still a thing or not) after being thoroughly obsessed with latter for about 4 or so years. Xanga was much more of a typical blog blog, and though I interacted with far less people on it, those few I did became honest to god friends that I still think about to this day. Though, as years past, my few friends began to drop off one by one from the site and I found myself enjoying it much less once they were gone. Eventually, I left too.

A few months later, I decided to join Tumblr. It was still a fairly new site in 2010 when I had joined, and I had only heard a few things here and there around the internet before I decided to check it out myself. When I first started, I used this site a lot like I used Xanga and basically had it exclusively as an internet journal to talk about life and nerdy shit and the like (I remember even thinking the reblog option was dumb because why not just make your own content? Why reblog other peoples stuff? loooool) and also did a lot of those writing daily challenges. Do you guys remember those? I loved them. Anyway...

Needless to say as time went on and I got older and followed more people and gained more followers (some of you have been here from very early on and for that I am incredibly thankful) as dweeby as this may sound, I really grew as a person. God, I remember 9 years ago I would sometimes post uncredited art or really insensitive, not funny at all, “jokes” because I honestly didn’t see a problem with them (and the only reason I really remember these awful things is occasionally once in a blue moon random people would find them in the bowels of my blog and like them and I would shudder and delete them). I kinda started Tumblr as this young social media doofus that, again as cheesy as it sounds, learned a lot and grew from my experience here. I would never dream of posting uncredited art now, and those “jokes” make me want to vomit. I learned a lot about social issues through this blog and it also helped me open up and learn about my sexuality. I got to see a broader world view from all different walks of life here (which was incredibly refreshing after growing up in a very close knit predominately white republican community) , and met some fantastic humans I’m blessed to have interacted with and become their friend. I never would have met them without this site!

Not to mention just like... all the cool shit. There are SO many talented people on Tumblr. So much beautiful art, fantastic writing, and just all round hilarious and interesting humans that I loved to get even a small peak into their lives and learn about them and what they like and do for fun. I’ve picked up hobbies through this site, joined fandoms through this site, made friends, laughed endlessly, become inspired, found some of my favorite anime/books/movies, and have had so much fun in these nine years on Tumblr.

... Not to say that it hasn’t been without it’s bad. I’ve been here long enough to remember when Tumblr users proudly boasted about how open and inviting to any and all people they were, how they would never point fingers, be mean, or turn others away. Boy, how that has changed looool. I’ve been through the annoying but innocent enough superwholocks and the scandals of older users who used to be Tumblr royalty that fucked up in some way and fell from grace, to the disgrace of people who are totally fine humans that didn’t completely cater to exactly what certain people wanted or made a few wrong steps that people felt like they had to attack them viciously for the littlest asinine shit. The good the bad and the ugly, all the way through to now.

Now. :(

To be frank, this entire site has been a disaster for a loooooooooong time with a staff that seems to be equal mix of not knowing at all how to run a functioning site and not giving a shit at all about it’s user base and their feelings (which reeeeeeeally sucks for all the fantastic content creators and people who have been here forever who have essentially made this site what it is). Little things like ‘oh we made an update that ‘everyone’ will love but is actually dumb as hell and just pisses people off’ to their have been porn bots, pedos, and nazis on this site for YEARS terrorizing people and being awful but guess that is just how it will be... Until they got banned from the app store and THEN it’s an issue (because they lost money ofc)!

Suddenly, Tumblr staff cares, but only for themselves. Instead of actually resolving the issue THAT HAS BEEN GOING ON FOR YEARS AND IS AN EXTREMELY WELL KNOW AND COMPLAINED ABOUT ISSUE they just decide fuck it, punish everyone. No “porn” at all, but I use that term lightly because they say some nudity is allowed (don’t get me started on female presenting nipples it also makes me laugh to hard and then I won’t be able to type) and for some reason apparently written erotica is allowed (which makes absolutely zero sense if you are truly trying to make this a ‘family friendly’ site, why is visual porn not allowed but written OK?) but... Is it really? Posts that are completely innocent are getting tagged left and right as not suitable content. Like, thousands of posts are getting tagged by whatever stupid algorithm they are using that are completely void of anything remotely sexual and you expect me to believe your incompetent asses are going to go through them and deem which are OK and which aren’t based on you shoddy stupid ass new rules? Fuck that. 

And all the sex workers and people and run side blogs and NSFW art blogs and the like are just completely screwed (no pun intended). It upsets me because like... Porn blogs have never been the issue. There are definitely some horrible ones, no denying that, but for the most part they just stayed in their lane and interacted with other porn blogs. They weren’t the issue (And, if Tumblr knew at all how to create a damn site, they wouldn’t have been an issue at all if the damn safe mode toggle actually worked like it was supposed to). The ungodly amount of bots is the fucking issue. I can tell you right now, I have over a thousand followers and I am in no way kidding when I say half of those are porn bots that I just gave up reporting because I get like, 3 of them following me a week on average. It’s ridiculous! Also, ACTUAL FUCKING CHILD PORN? THAT IS EASILY ACCESSIBLE EVEN WHEN NOT LOOKING UP ANYTHING NSFW (which I very unfortunately know through experience)? And to top it all off, fucking NAZIS who for some reason are still allowed to spew their bullshit on this site??? Is this a nightmare?

So with all this happening, I believe it’s pretty safe to say Tumblr’s days are numbered. It makes me laugh and cry, it’s something you could see coming a mile away and yet something that you didn’t think would actually happen. I don’t want to leave Tumblr. I love you guys (the users not the staff). You have all brought joy and enrichment to my life and I am so grateful I got to be here with you. I also just like a lot of nuances of tumblr, like the fact I can read an entry so powerful and moving it brings me to tears and then just one post underneath is an over baked nonsensical cat meme which has me wheezing for reasons I can’t quite explain. I can be anonymous and as weird as I want to here without having to really worry about family, coworkers, or older friends seeing it and being like WTF is wrong with you, what does all this mean??? I like how my blog looks and how I can bitch in the tags and chat with my friends and message people and talk about my oc’s and randoms interests and get pointers and learn new things and AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

I love Tumblr. I don’t want to leave and don’t necessarily plan to. But then again, I said they same thing about Xanga, and if Tumblr keeps going in the way it is going... I’m not sure I really truly  want to be lumped in with that. :/

Now this has already been entirely too long (and honestly I’m kind of feeling how I did when I started this blog in 2010 lul) but lemme say this: Thanks guys, I had a whole lot of fun. And if I do end up leaving sometime in the maybe not to distant future know that I will always be lurking around somewhere on the internet, and I had the best time while I was here. I wish nothing but the best for all of you, and may we all be able to remain a happy and dysfunctional little group, if not here, somewhere much better.

[acatnamedlulu]

My Thoughts on Channel Awesome- Part 1: The Walkers

So, full disclosure, this is going to get dramatic. This isn’t going to be an “objective look” on the whole controversy surrounding Channel Awesome. This is going to be a biased, unfiltered rant. And it’s gonna get loooooooooong. I’ll put a TL;DR at the end of this, and I’ll try and keep the deep anger and frustration to a minimum to prevent any rambling tangents or “CAPZLOCK YELLING BCUZ I AM ANGER, RRAAAAGH!” 

 Ok, I’m sure many of you already know by now the recent shitstorm of events surrounding Channel Awesome over the past couple weeks, but for those of you unaware, how about a little context:

A few weeks ago (at the time of this posting), several former producers/content creators of Channel Awesome compiled a 70+ page google document titled “Not So Awesome”, each detailing their own shitty experiences working at Channel Awesome. Many of these allegations range from minor jabs, to full legitimate complaints regarding Doug and Rob Walker and especially Channel Awesome CEO Mike Michaud’s behavior. So while maybe one or two points brought up in the document could come off as petty, or just throwing shade, I don’t think that’s a reason to discredit the entire thing.This is nearly a dozen or so ex-producers affiliated with the “TGWTG” website as early as 2008, all with their own experiences and grievances. And even though everyone has a different story to tell, they all seem to be tied together by the same goddamn themes: Not just about the shitty behavior/poor business etiquette of Mike Michaud, but also poor behavior by the Walkers. And although Michaud is absolutely the worst out of all the people being named, I wanna talk about Doug Walker first. And by extent Rob Walker. Although, Rob is more of an issue when it comes to the business end of Channel Awesome as opposed to the actual entertainment, so maybe I’ll talk about him more when I go into a rant about Michaud. Granted, I have a feeling that my opinions on the Walkers are going to be met with a more negative response, and believe me, I completely understand why, but just... just here me out. More bullshit context and backstory, oh happy fucking day!

Alright, so when I was a dumb, hormonal young teen exploring her “edgy” side, I came across the Nostalgia Critic circa 2009-10ish? And after finding the character’s harsh judgement, foul colorful language, and humorous approach to critiquing to be right up my alley, I became an extremely loyal fan of TGWTG. Even after the NC reboot in 2013, I still stuck around and tuned in every week. For as much as I hated some of those goddamn skits, and clipless reviews, I still wanted to hear Doug’s opinion on a movie. He helped me understand film on a critical level that I didn’t think I could reach. And while I don’t consider myself a “critic” in any sense of the word, it was cool to have someone help guide me through an entire medium and look at it in a meaningful and thoughtful way. I eventually started watching Doug and Rob out of character, and both of them seemed like passionate, humble people who enjoy what they do. Watching the NC behind the scenes were sometimes more fun than watching an episode because Doug Walker truly looks like a man who’s dedicated to his work. But as I say this now, this also seems to be one of his biggest flaws. I know this is already longer than it has any business being, but the reason I’m going on this lengthy diatribe, is because I need you guys to understand where I’m coming from, and why I have such a strong stance on this. Which is why I’ll finally get to my fucking point: 

I think Doug Walker needs to be held more accountable for his actions. Or at least his actions need to be taken more seriously/into consideration.

As stupid as this sounds, this has been bugging me since the day the “Not so Awesome” google document has been released. Not so much the contents of the document itself, but rather, some of the reactions around it. The general consensus is that Mike Michaud is a terrible person, and something absolutely needs to be done about him... which is absolutely true. But what bothered me is people’s quick need to, maybe not justify, but brush over the shit that Doug has caused too. One of the biggest issues that many of the producers discuss in the document is the absolute production hell of the CA anniversary movies.

From “Kickassia” all the way up to “To Boldly Flee”, it just baffles me how incompetent and incapable Doug Walker is, both at making a film, and caring for his crew at even the bare minimum. Going back and watching TBF, you don’t even have to read the full extension of what it was like working on the set, because you can practically see it on the actors’ faces! You can just feel the exhaustion of everybody involved except Doug, but that’s because the man was so severely wrapped up in this self-serving ego project, that everyone else gets stepped on as a result. Remember what the stupid plot of TBF was anyway? The Nostalgia Critic brings everyone from CA into space to fight an anomaly called a “plot hole”, only for the NC to make his big damn sacrifice and die as the noble hero, killing off the character for good... until the reboot in 2013. With none of the other producers being notified of this until they received their scripts just a few weeks before filming.Yeah, it’s kinda fucking heartbreaking to know that other contributors and producers were treated as such an afterthought, that they were told this information in this short amount of time, in a movie that they were starring in. 

Several people have pointed out the lack of basic necessities needed on a film set such as catering and water. Guys, this isn’t a group of kids dicking around with a camera and a computer for a few hours and making a home movie. This was an actual production supervised by grown adults who needed to be told during filming that “people need food and water”. Across the course of several films. One of which was filmed in the Nevada desert. How difficult would it have really been to stop off at a fucking Walmart, gather up some coolers and ice bags, some of those 24 packs of water in bulk and keep it at a safe location on the damn set? This isn’t something that requires a goddamn film degree to understand, it’s common fucking sense. It’s just baffling to me that these painstaking efforts from the producers were just “voluntary” positions, too. The document itself goes into much more detail of how that shit works, so I’ll be posting it at the end of this rant, you’re welcome. 

And this is where I draw the line of giving Doug a pass. You can’t convince me that this level of negligence is just some kind of mistake that can be easily forgiven. I can’t believe that people can defend Doug on the grounds of “well, he’s just the pawn in this” or “he was just being naive and selfish”. No, this type of naivete and lack of basic human decency has caused people physical harm. Several actors sustained injuries throughout the production of the anniversary films. This usually ended with both Doug and Rob shrugging some of these off, while others had to sign contracts in order for CA to avoid a lawsuit. That is fucking insane!

A couple producers in the document recall how Doug was more involved with the business aspect of CA. He was more than just a puppet for Mike Michaud. Remember, the anniversary movies were written by him and Rob. And while Michaud was most likely the one who had the final say of what went on, Doug was the overseer of these projects. These were his creations, and he should have taken full responsibility for what was going on. And for him to have such a cynical and uncaring approach to the treatment of both the characters within the film, and the producers portraying them is sickening. This man has put on the persona of being this nice, approachable, easy to work/converse with person for years, and to hear how egotistical and negligent he truly is. I mean, don’t get me wrong, there was always something a bit self-centered about Doug, but knowing what I know now... like, it’s hard to explain why I feel so guilty about supporting Doug for as long as I did. I know we all can say “oh, well, it’s not like we knew”, but see, the thing is, I kind of did. The incidents with Obscurus Lupa weren’t completely unknown beforehand. Since like, 2015, people have been bringing this shit up, and I willingly chose to ignore it because I was such a huge NC fan. I just blindly kept watching the show and pretending CA was this cool, friendly place and nothing was wrong. Yeah, I’m not gonna act like I’m such a good person for bashing Doug, and I know that I shouldn’t have had such blind support. But the good news is, I don’t now.  I know better, and I hope we all can move on from this, and learn. 

Ok, so going back and reading this overly dramatic tripe, I realize I may have gone off the rails at some points. So before this turns into an “amateur hour smear campaign”, I think I’m going to split this up into two parts. I already said all I want to say about Doug and Rob. But I still have issues with Mike Michaud that are probably the same opinions everyone and their mother has expressed on this insane human being. But I still wanna get some stuff off my chest. Anyway, this is now Part 1 of the “Lunatic ravings of a disgruntled former fangirl” saga, maybe some of you would like to join me for My Thoughts on Channel Awesome Part 2: Electric Boogaloo. 

and now for the TL;DR

I think Doug Walker is an inept, egotistical man who has hurt people both emotionally, and sometimes physically to get what he wants. And people shouldn’t excuse his actions just because he doesn’t run the CA site in the way Mike Michaud does. If he’s going to go through the trouble of making a fucking movie, especially one that’s nearly four hours long, he should make sure the crew is at least hydrated and not exhausted all the goddamn time. Doug is a grown ass man, and he should carry these responsibilities like an adult. Maybe then, the CA anniversary movies would be at least a little less cringey to watch. Rant on Michaud coming soon. Peace out, dickholes. 

The “Not So Awesome” document

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1WZFkR__B3Mk9EYQglvislMUx9HWvWhOaBP820UBa4dA/preview#heading=h.smmxroimnosh