#and he has to put the pieces back together with some model glue

[remarcely]

Non-Human Tim Drake Prompt

The Drakes were unable to bear a child, so they made one.

They used clay from their dig sites, having come across grounds so imbued with magic that it was pouring out of the material in waves, and shaped a child- a little boy. He had Janet's smile, Jacks eyes, and a chunk of ruby, chipped off from an artifact the couple had found years ago, in place of a heart. They'd dried the clay child for thirty days and thirty nights, carefully checking him for cracks and crumbling patches. On the morning of the thirty-first day he opened his eyes and Timothy Drake was ‘born’.

He had once asked what power created him. Tim had heard of the tales of a puppet boy, so loved by his father that a fairy bestowed him with life, and asked his mother if the same fairy had blessed him. Janet had laughed, not taking him seriously, and patted his cheek.

“Oh, my darling, you weren’t made for no reason. You are the heir to the Drake name, a perfect little creation.” She stood from where she’d been crouched and began to leave the room, not bothering to look over her shoulder “Fairies are not real, Timothy, and neither is ‘true love’. There is only us and our requisites. You will placate our plans in a way flesh and blood never could.”

Tim understands the words his mother isn’t saying. That Love had nothing to do with it, only necessity for a child to keep something so arbitrary as a family name alive.

He wasn’t their son, he was a vessel, and if he wanted to remain a Drake then he’d need to serve his purpose;

Perfection.

[gracemiracle-blog]

"We can't"

One shot

Pairing: Gansey x fem reader

Genre: fluff and implied smut? mostly making out

Word Count: 1.07k

Summary: Gansey and fem reader are alone at Monmouth and things get heated. Lots of inspo taken from the almost kiss car scene w blue

You sit in a stuffy armchair in Monmouth manufacturing doing homework, well trying to do homework. Gansey sat on the floor gluing pieces of cardboard together to make a small model of a building somewhere in Henrietta. It was late, almost two in the morning. Ronan and Adam had been doing something at the barns all day and had decided to stay the night instead of driving all the way back. So, it was just you and Gansey alone in the warehouse. Noah had disappeared at some point a few hours ago.

 Finally abandoning the homework that you had been working on for well over an hour that you had somehow made no progress on, you stood up in a huff and went to sit next to him. He looked up at you as you walked over to him. “No luck?” he asked. 

“None whatsoever. I'm starting to think you might have been right about public schooling”

“Ha!” 

He grinned at you. It wasn't his Richard Campbell Gansey stare, it was the true Gansey smiling at you. It takes you a little by surprise but you smile back at him. You both sit there for a while. You watch as he adds details to the small buildings. You liked watching him work, watching his gentle but efficient hands carefully glue pieces together. As the time passed the two of you had shifted closer together and the place where your thigh touched his burned. You couldn't, you wouldn't ever tell Gansey this but you were pretty sure you were in love with him. Whatever ever love was you were knee deep in it. Gansey put down his supplies and stretched his arms out behind him, groaning as he did so. “I really need a better setup for this, at this rate I'm going to have the back of an eighty year old man by the time I'm twenty” He laughed as he said this.

“Finally” you say “your body’s age would match your mental age” It was mostly a joke but there was a truth in it. Gansey somehow seemed ageless and every age simultaneously. You stared at his moonlight face. The slope of his cheekbones, the curve of his lips, the line of his straight nose. You looked away as you caught yourself staring but it was too late, he had caught you. “In this light you look-” he cut himself off “jesus, jesus” He got to his feet quickly and walked toward the huge windows. 

You got up to follow him. “What? What’s wrong?”

You ask him. It was a bad idea, you know what it meant, the two of you had been exchanging glances for months and you had been kept up late with thoughts of him for longer than that. Still looking out the window he said “You know we can't'' Even though you already know this it doesn't make it hurt less. 

“Maybe we could” you say. You can't but-. Gansey looks at you sharply. You're still looking at him as you reach for one of his hands and take it. He takes a breath and steps closer to you. Your breaths are ragged as you lean your forehead against his. One of his hands brushes your hair away from your face and then slides to cup your cheek. Before you can let your brain stop you, you close the distance between the two of you. The only thing you can think of as your lips touch is finally, finally, finally.

Your hands know what to do without your brain telling them. One slides up to his neck and the other up into his hair. You can feel him smiling against your lips. One of Ganseys hands slides to your waist and pulls you into him. He pulls his face away from your and his lips find your neck. “We can't do this” he says as he kisses the place your pulse thrums on your neck, making you gasp. You struggle to get the words out “We can't” Both of your hands find his soft curls and pull just a little, just enough so that your lips can find his again. This time your tongue finds a gap in his lips and explores his mouth. His tongue is in your mouth too now. The feeling of his lips on yours, your chests pressed together almost makes you dizzy. One of your hands makes its way down to the hem of his shirt. Under the thin cotton his skin is hot and smooth. Your hands slides up the plane of his stomach and to his chest you stop for a second before asking “is this okay?” 

His voice is low and ragged “yes”. You slide the t-shirt up over his head and throw it behind him. His chest is all lean muscle and tan skin. “God, I love the rowing team” you say as your eyes hungrily look over every inch of his bare skin. He throws his head back laughing. He pulls you in to kiss him still laughing, making you giggle. “This isn't fair” he says, pulling your shirt off. When it's off you see his adam's apple bob as he gulps. “God you're so beautiful” You pull him back into you. Hot skin against hot skin. You feel his hands on the back of your thighs for a moment before he pulls you up onto him. Your legs automatically wrap around your waist and his hands slide under your butt. You're still kissing as he walks you back to the mattress that you know is somewhere behind you. He lays you gently on the bed, cradling your body. You inhale sharply when your bare back makes contact with the cold sheets. He's hovering above you. You look into his face, his cheeks are flush and his eyes- his eyes are unlike anything you've ever seen. They are oil pools, dark and fierce. You gulp.

 “Gansey …” you start to say “You're the most beautiful boy i've ever seen” 

His expression is complicated for a moment before he says “I love you” The words have barely left his tongue when you pull his face to yours. Its lips smashed against lips, tongues dragged on cheeks. His lips move down to your jaw, your neck, your chest. 

“Say it again” 

“I love you” He says “I love you, I love you, I love you” The way he says it sounds like an incantation, holy.

[smallerplaces]

The saga of the Dura-Craft Farm House FH500, part 1

All the Dura-Craft Farm House posts will be tagged Dollhouse Diaries, so you can avoid them if you like.

Last Sunday, we were at the Save-a-Pet Thrift in Valley Springs, where we saw this enticing box. It's the Dura-Craft Farm House FH500: "So authentic you can almost smell the hay!"

This is one of my two favorite 1:12 houses, which is reprehensible of me because the window sizing and placement is really not good. Back in 2008, I had bought a completed one, in fixer-upper shape, at an antique store in Phoenix for $60, but a lot happened in 2008, and it did not make some move or other. I'd been thinking that while there was no realistic way anything big from 2008 could have made it to 2024 with me, I wouldn't mind finding another one.

This one was $50. The proprietor of the thrift assured me that the kit is complete. She knew the guy who was trying to build it, and he just ran out of steam because it was complicated. Having built kit dollhouses with Dad over a long weekend, I scoffed. (Spoiler: I'm going to eat my words, unsauced and chewy.)

Obviously, I bought it. (Actually, Dad bought it for me while I protested that I have unspent birthday and Christmas money burning a hole in my wallet, but you get the idea.)

Upon reading the instructions, I found the stamped date when it was boxed up: October 7, 1982.

Dura-Craft was an Oregon furniture maker that started using scrap lumber for dollhouses in the late 1970s, with its kit production starting around 1978. From about 1978 through the 1980s was a huge boom period for dollhouse kits, with so many more brands and models than there are today. (Furniture variety peaks in the 2000s, though, go figure.)

The pictures on the box thus show some of the earliest Dura-Craft designs. Dad has built the San Franciscan (that's the one he built while Mom was dying, that she never got to put the furniture in, so you can figure we sold that because we couldn't stand the sight of it). I think he has the Southern Mansion kit in the attic, missing one floor piece, but I refuse to build a plantation house. I've never seen the Chateau!

The first step is to assemble the walls, as the walls are not sheets of plywood or MDF, the way most kits have always been. No, the walls are assembled from individual strips of plywood, about three fingers high, with milled siding. This here is three of the wood strips already glue together.

I am grateful for the milled siding, as dollhouse siding costs a fortune, and all DIY trash-to-treasure substitutes are an incredible amount of work to do. I admire and applaud people who make their own siding from stirring sticks or whatever, but I know I would do poorly at it.

What I'm not grateful for is that the prior builder had assembled the walls with hot glue. Never build a dollhouse shell with hot glue. Don't do it if the instructions say to *cough* Greenleaf *cough*. Definitely don't do it if the instructions say to use wood glue.

Hot glue puts a rubbery, flexible layer between the two surfaces glued together. There is fabulous if you're gluing silk flowers to a hat. It is not fabulous when you have wood that's intended for square, direct joins. The wall sections flap where the joins between strips are rubbery. Some are off-kilter because a rounded line of hot glue doesn't absorb down into the wood the way wood glue does. Many are simply breaking because hot glue ages faster and worse than wood glue.

So every time a join breaks, we have to pick hot glue debris out of the tracks on one side of the wood strip. Dad scrapes at it with a knife. I don't trust myself around sharp instruments, so I alternate between heating it with a microwaved napkin (damp in the center so it doesn't catch fire, but dry on the surface so it doesn't get the wood wet) and picking at it with my fingernails. We have tacitly agreed that we will not attempt to fix every join unless walls refuse to slide into their corner posts, many steps down the road.

There is a great deal of gluing and clamping involved. We're somewhere between halfway and 2/3 of the way through wall repairs, and I'm hoping we didn't jump the gun in gluing that gable back on.

Meanwhile, the box does come with a clear photo of the interior layout!

The interior walls are not optional -- every model of this house that I've seen without those walls has severely sagging floors. The floor edges balance on narrow wood sticks that don't give a lot of support.

I need to see how tall the rooms really are before making a firm decision on who gets this house. If ceiling height is reasonable for Arvin Lebec, who's a tall guy at 7", then it's his. If it runs short -- as sometimes happens with older kit houses -- then I may rebuy the couple intended as the original inhabitants the first time I bought this house: the Archie McPhee barista and hipster action figures.

Tomorrow is yet more wall-gluing. So many walls. So, so many walls.

[yugiri315]

LWJ Cosplay Log

Layer 0:  Hair, Props, and Cheating!

False Lapels (假领)

I caved and made cheater lapels, a purely modern invention so you don’t die in your layers.  In winter, I will wear my full undergarments.  In summer, I will tie this fake lapel around my neck to ventilate and streamline the dressing process.  Everyone be wearing cheater lapels now!  Who cares about authenticity when you look good and aren’t overheating.

Magic Weapons (法器)

As mentioned before, LWJ originally was a casual cosplay.  Meaning I was just going to buy him and dress up but being the nitpicker I am, I was not 100% happy with the choices on Taobao (at the time).  Hence, I made LWJ from scratch (what was I thinking, mistakes were made…).  But I did buy Bichen to keep myself to task.  Nothing makes you finish a cosplay like having a piece of it haunting you.

Made a foam guqin but was feeling burnout by then so didn’t put as much effort in recording the process.  I mean, it’s printing scaled patterns, cutting them out, and then tracing the foam.  Then it’s all glued together.  Lots of glue keeping everything together.  A lot like how I made Levi’s ODMG way back, so I’ll link that tutorial for anyone interested.  Also, anyone can make a bag so nothing to say there.  Tassels were dyed using the Koolaid method I used for the leathers.

Yugiri’s ODMG Tutorial:  https://yugiri315.tumblr.com/post/647365286642712576/one-of-my-first-tutorials-i-made-odmg-so-i-could

Wig

Everyone in ancient China had long hair so gotta work it!  Historically, adults put all their hair up in public.  Any deviation from that would indicate anywhere from poor manners to foreign origin and was generally frowned upon.  A man having his hair down and disheveled could even be judged a criminal on the run.  Lan Wangji’s hairstyle would therefore be considered improper for a gentleman of his age and station.  Sticking a guan on your half-topknot or slapping a ribbon on isn’t some quick fix that will make you instantly socially acceptable.  You just look like a rich maybe-barbaric asshole.

More Info on men’s hair here.

Then film was invented and eventually wuxia dramas, a genre that often explored and tested cultural conventions and featured characters from the fringes of society like orphans, outlaws, and women prominently.  Between the nature of wuxia and modern sensibilities, somehow the anachronistic half up-do was invented and accepted as “historical.”  This happens in Bollywood and Hollywood too, where some anachronistic elements cement themselves as historical fact in the popular zeitgeist.  So now hip, young gentlemen from fantasy China have this nice half-do or ponytail.  Having a guan or just a hairpin or ribbon indicated which side of middle-class you’re on and only old, stuffy characters put all their hair up (sometimes).

BUT, I would like to propose a caveat.  Wangji is a cultivator.  In fiction that means he’s a martial arts wizard knight but they are modelled after actual sages and alchemists trying to achieve immortality in the mountains and mystical Taoist priests that Chinese writers simply embellished.  In older fictions, you will see cultivators are more historically grounded and their powers are relegated to the improbable but humanly possible spectrum compared to their modern renditions, where one can be born with golden cores or immortality can be achieved easily depending on the writer.  In some cases, actual famed Taoist priests make an appearance with OPed supernatural powers like Qiu Chuji in Jin Yong’s Legend of Condor Heroes.  A note about historical Taoist priests and sages is as they have exited mundane society to be more in tune with the natural world or are considered eccentrics, they are often portrayed with their hair down similar to the style of CQL Wangji or with some more disheveled and flexible hairdos.  So it’s possible the cultivator hair style popularized in modern media today is based after some historical reality but poor historical research, lack of accurate sources, and just preference has misplaced it and now it’s part of pop culture and could not be more natural!

That explains the back of LWJ’s head but as for the front and still sporting forelocks into middle age…as my Chinese friends put it, LWJ is a 坏哥哥 that makes WWX all hot and bothered XDXDXD.

So yeah, how should LWJ style his hair is a surprisingly complicated question.  Do you go by profession, socioeconomic standing, sexual appeal, fantasy worldbuilding creativity license, his inner bad boy rebellious side?  The anime may have truly captured everything about his character on the top of his head!

Our Hanguang-jun here may be a prim and proper killjoy but he is fashionable and sexy.  Thus his beautiful, silky locks must be free!! (and what a pain it is to maintain and store him XD)

For synthetic wig fibers, I wetted it with a homemade detangling spray and heat when styling.  Usually, I finish wig styling with a hardcore, glue-like spray like Got2B, especially with a complicated hairdo like this.  But I’m contemplating this as a generic cosplay or hanfu wig so want to leave myself an opening to restyle it if I’m feeling ambitious.  We will see.　

DIY Wig Detangling Spray:   It’s basically 1:4 to 1:6 dilution of lotion/fabric softener/conditioner in water

https://www.deviantart.com/stealthos-aurion/art/Tut-HOMEMADE-WIG-DETANGLER-252023136 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=StFHQ0mPdY0 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mcyqp2iqk0g&t=175s

[recycledmoviecostumes]

Goodness do I have a treat for all of you today. Larry McQueen, owner of The Collection has sent me a lovely sighting filled with detailed information. Because the detail is frankly incredible, I decided not to edit it and present Larry’s notes in full below:

In 1936, Travis Banton, head designer at Paramount Studios, began work on the last film he would design for his favorite clotheshorse, Marlene Dietrich. The duo had worked closely together on all her films at Paramount and created the “Dietrich style”-- a look of lavish, smoldering, hard-edged sophistication that was instrumental in creating the Dietrich legend.

 Dietrich had one final film to complete her contract at Paramount and was cast in a typical Dietrich vehicle Angel, a sophisticated Lubitsch melodrama with her in the role of an ignored wife of means who has an affair with her husband’s friend. Banton designed the most opulent dress he had ever created for the star for the under-five-minute opera sequence and preceding scenes in the film. The ensemble was to become known as the “Faberge” gown and consisted of a fitted long-sleeve bodice with peplum, a matching long skirt with train and a six foot stole bordered with sable. The fabric was solidly embroidered with gold beads, pearls, rhinestones, gold bullion, gold sequins and faux ruby and emerald stones in geometric designs. According to W. Robert Levine in his book “In A Glamorous Fashion,” the costume was cost-listed on the wardrobe records at $8,000.00, an exorbitant price in the post-depression era and a price that would be over $100,000.00 by today’s standards. The expense must have caused stirrings in Paramount’s upper management in a time when the government was asking the studios to scale back the unnecessary lavishness in costume design. Banton himself once said it was the most expensive gown he had ever designed.

 The ensemble is given credit in many film costume books as the most spectacular gown ever created. Diana Vreeland, one-time curator at the Metropolitan Museum of Art said of the costume in the book “Hollywood Costume– Glamour! Glitter! Romance!” “When I think of detail, I think of Travis Banton’s marvelous beaded dress for Marlene Dietrich in Angel—like a million grains of golden caviar. That is one of the most beautiful dresses ever…”. Margaret J. Bailey in her book Those Glorious Glamour Years describes the dress “It was simple in lines, of Persian design, and looked like a piece of woven jewelry…”  and “… caused no little trauma on the set when producers refused to give it to Dietrich for her private wardrobe.”

 Dietrich had loved the gown and asked the studio if she could keep it. It is said she was so angry of being refused by the company she help save, she stormed off the set. The incident no doubt added to her disharmonious departure from the studio. She left the studio and did not return until a decade later. Acquiring gowns and props from her films- by whatever means- was a general practice of Ms. Dietrich. After her death, The German Film Archive Foundation (die Stiftung Deutsche Kinemathek) and The Berlin Film Museum acquired her estate in 1993, which consisted of five different storehouses in Europe and the USA. In the collection were thousands of items from her career including fifty of her most famous film gowns. Her daughter, Maria Riva, once told the curator of the Frankfurt Film Museum, her mother was always in constant fear the studios would someday try to take back her collection and had kept the fact of its existence well hidden.

Paramount, however, retained the piece and began to put it to use. Re-using costumes was a common practice by studios to maintain an opulent look to secondary and background characters without the expense of making new ones. It is unknown exactly how many films the Dietrich gown was used in, but from photos found, it is obvious it was put to work and went through many transformations in the process. Mary Astor wore it, without the stole on the set of Midnight, 1939. The front was reworked and worn by Rose Hobart in the film A Night at Earl Carrolls, 1940. It was used in publicity photos as in that of Loraine Day circa 1944. With the sleeves removed, the stole without the fur was added to the front of the bodice as draping, it was worn by Felicia Atkins in The Errand Boy, 1961. The stole was cut in half to be used as a turban and worn with a sleeveless altered bodice by a model in A New Kind of Love, 1963. In 1974, the bodice was put back together and used by Diana Vreeland in the MET exhibition of films fashion and in 1985, the gown and stole was returned to its original configuration and worn by Barbara Hershey in the TV movie My Wicked Wicked Ways.

With all the different uses, the pieces took a beating. Many of the “re-workings” were fast and crude and some of the attempts to repair the gown involved covering damaged areas with large gold sequins. One previous ‘restoration’ involved applying glue to areas and pushing the beads back together and letting it harden. The fine chiffon backing was weak and starting to split and the patterns were separating.    The costume was so fragile, it could never be worn again, but it is amazing the pieces stayed together.

In December of 1990, Paramount put the gown up for auction at Christies New York as part a larger collection of ‘star wardrobe.’  Larry McQueen and his late business partner, Bill Thomas, who were respected experts in the field of film costumes and had compiled one of the finest collections of the medium under the name “The Collection,” were retained to help inventory, authenticate and price the collection and were overwhelmed to see, what they believed to be, the most exquisite film costume ever created. They were successful in purchasing it for a total cost of approximately $23,000.00, one of the highest prices at the auction. As excited as they were to own the gown, the reality of its condition soon set in. Due to the age of the garment, poor storage and multiple alterations, it could never be dressed on a mannequin because it would not support its own extreme weight.

 In 1999, four years after Bill Thomas died, Larry McQueen began the process of restoring the costume. Museum experts in preservation and restoration were consulted and much debate occurred as to whether the integrity of the gown- however poor that integrity was- should be tampered with. It was finally decided by Mr. McQueen that instead of leaving it as it was- a box of un-showable beads- the ensemble should be restored. Getson/Eastern Embroidery, who was then owned by Annie Dernderian, was approached with working on the gown. The firm had worked on the original costume and luckily had many of the beads, sequins and stones used on the original construction.

But, restoration of the garment proved far more difficult than planned. Even though the gown had only taken weeks to create, it would take years to restore. Every inch of the beadwork would have to be attached to new chiffon backing and the patterns pulled into shape and lightly tacked. Then the patterns had to be permanently hand stitched, replacing any missing stones or beads. Previous poor repairs would have to be removed. Missing areas or areas that had been glued would have to be replaced. Many of the original silk threads that attached the beads were breaking and would have to be reinforced with new silk thread. The stole, which had been cut in half and then stacked on top of its self and re-sewn, had to be taken apart, attached to a new backing and the beading attached and corrected.   Photographs of Dietrich wearing the costume were enlarged to determine what was an original pattern and what had been changed. Luckily, the patterns did repeat themselves, so where a pattern was missing, a template of an existing pattern was made to re-create the missing one. The task would involve going inch by inch and would involve thousands of hours and great expense. But, determined to see the gown restored, Larry McQueen had the work begun.

The gown could not be taken apart and beaded flat as it was originally constructed, so a special frame with a sling had to be constructed to allow access to the inside of the garment to work from the front and the back of the fabric. Beads and sequins that had to be removed were sorted and reattached in to same location if possible. Only a four-inch area could be worked on at one time and each area was photographed before and after to document the work done. The project was daunting.

 The entire fabric of the costume is composed of repeating geometric shapes somewhat like a paisley pattern. Each shape is outlined with small pearls or faceted rhinestones. Beads, pearls or sequins in different combinations fill the center portions of the design. Throughout, are patterns that contain a small grid work of bullion threading and each square filled with small pearls, sequins or a combination of sequins and gold beads. The background is of solid gold rocaille beads and the gown is sporadically studded with emerald and red glass beads. Literally millions of beads were used to create the fabric of the ensemble.

 After one year, only the bodice was approaching completion, most of the work done by Annie Denderian. But the expense was mounting and it was becoming impossible to find qualified people who had the patience and time to spend on the garment. Mr. McQueen decided that if the costume was to be completed, he would have to take over the bulk of the hands-on restoration. Having the background and more importantly the motivation to see the gown completed, he was mentored by Ms. Denderian, learning and perfecting the techniques to painstakingly re-attach the patterns and began work on the dress. Almost one year to the date of beginning the work- working faithfully five to eight hours a day- the skirt and the stole were completed. To add strength, bias tape reinforcing and a new silk chiffon lining was added by the costume house of John David Ridge and the stole was re-bordered by using existing sable by Judith Moss at LA Fur Center.

McQueen stated that he probably would have reconsidered restoring the gown had he know the time, patience and expense it was going to take, but then quickly adds that he would have done it anyway. It was just too important. In working that closely with the piece, McQueen was amazed how in touch you get with the people who originally created the garment (a process difficult to understand unless you have restored someone else’s creation). You could tell when someone was having a bad day and cutting corners. You could tell when someone was struck with genius. You could see the differences in workmanship and technique between the various beaders. You could see the time spent on details in areas that no one would ever see. You become very close to the garment and understand it.

The gown is truly a testament to the artistry of early Hollywood. Mr. McQueen is confident the care, attention and over 3000 hours spent in its restoration would make its original creators proud. He hopes that if he leaves any legacy to the field of film costumes, one of his main accomplishments will be the “Faberge gown” survives in the splendor it was originally created and will be shown and appreciated for generations to come.

Costume Credit: Photos, copy and all the above incredible info provided by The Collection of Motion Picture Costume Design: Larry  McQueen

E-mail Submissions: submissions@recycledmoviecostumes.com

Follow:  Website | Twitter | Facebook | Pinterest

Note: If you’ve not checked out Larry McQueen’s The Collection, I highly suggest you do so. It’s incredible!

[aceofshitposts]

Butterfly hair clips!

Anon you didn't ask for it but oops it's again (jaytim babysitting deaged bruharley)

-

Jason isn't really sure what to expect when he returns from the store. The kids were still asleep when he left, Tim assuring him that he could handle them so Jason could go buy some she appropriate toys.

He had been in the middle of deciding between two different equally sparkly accessory making kits when Tim had texted him an ominous, "they're awake."

Harley has undone one of her pigtails to use the hair tie to apparently tie up Tim's bangs in front of his face like a particularly floppy unicorn horn.

Tim looks pleadingly at him for help. Jason holds up the plastic bags, the rustling causing both kids to focus their attention on him.

"Jay! Whatcha get? Did you get me anything?" Harley bounds up to him, making grabby hands at the bags.

"You're supposed to say please," Bruce chides, coming to stand beside a bouncing Harley. He seems to be trying to look uninterested in whether Jason got anything for him but his eyes keep sliding back over to the bags.

"I got a bunch of stuff, let's go to the table, yeah?"

Harley bolts like a bat out of hell, dragging Bruce bodily behind her.

"You survived?"

"Barely," Tim intones, eyes focusing on the front facing ponytail bobbing in front of his eyes.

Jason pats himself on the back for deciding on buying multiple craft kits, Bruce was currently putting together a little wooden t. rex model while Harley worked on making little plastic hairclips, many of which were now decorating both Tim and Jason's hair.

"TADAH!" Harley announces, loud enough that Bruce squeezes a little too much glue into the part he was holding. "This one's for you, B!"

Harley holds up her creation, looking extremely proud of herself, a blue and black butterfly covered in enough glitter to choke a horse. Once she's sure Bruce has had a good look at it she carefully leans over to pin it in his hair right over his ear.

Jason's not sure he's ever seen Bruce turn such a vibrant shade of pink.

"Thank you, Harley," Bruce says stiffly, eyes firmly staring at his little dinosaur diorama. Harley doesn't seem to notice Bruce's averted fact, just beams at him happily then returns to making more glitter infused accessories.

Jason looks over to Tim who's surreptitiously lowering his phone back into his lap, a small smile on his face. When he catches Jason's gaze he looks down to the table, pushing his own art project towards Jason.

Two little pom pom birds, one with a red head and brown body and one with a black head and red body, glued down to a piece of cardstock. Underneath Tim has written RH + RR.

Jason reaches under the table to grab Tim's hand and resumes making sure the kids don't accidentally glue their fingers together.

[korasonata]

I had someone last time ask me about time stamps, so all of these from this point out will have the time stamp at the top of each set of quotes. I am currently in the process of retrieving the time stamps for the previous 5 posts, and will link an updated version when I have retrieved them all.

Link to the video is here: https://m.twitch.tv/videos/1149389841

Favourite moments of Joe and Cleo model streams part 6!

(I am very sorry I tried very hard to make this not as long as it is. There will probably be another extended cut post because there was just SO much happening in this stream)

—

00:00:57

Cleo: Welcome to the stream. Mine and/or Joes. Or, both.

Joe: Yay!

Cleo: I suppose that’s what the “and” means. In that statement. That would make sense. Glue pot’s ready—

Joe: It makes sense to me.

Cleo: …that makes me even more nervous that it makes sense to you, Joe. Not gonna lie.

—

00:16:34

Joe: So, anyway, last night at dinner, uh, like I— I had put this interview on while I was cooking and I kinda left it on as my daughter sat down for dinner and I was like “hey, this is an interview with this very famous journalist from about 50 years ago. Uh, he’s got a really interesting voice and a really interesting cadence, and I wanna kind of listen to it so I can— maybe copy it as like a joke in one of my videos.” And my daughter listens to it for about a— a minute—

Cleo: And then says “now that’s— is that you?”

Joe: *laughing* She just turns to me and she’s like “my friend…her parents got her…did you know they make crayon applesauce now? It says crayola. It tastes. Like they’ve blended a brown crayon. And sprinkled it on top.”

Cleo: That sounds grim.

Joe (prideful laughing): And it just kind of matches the cadence while also talking about something terrible to ingest?*laughing* And I just start cracking up because like— *laughing continues* she gets it! And she’s just like “why are you laughing?” Because you just— you nailed it! You nailed the pauses, you— you nailed the subject matter, like this is— this is just great!! And she’s like “no! This is a real thing! This crayon applesauce is terrible!” And I’m just laughing and laughing and she’s like trying to explain why it’s not good, and I’m like “I understand why it’s not good, but—“

Cleo (reading chat): “Joe’s daughter is awesome.” I think you’re probably correct. Joe’s daughter is indeed awesome.

Joe: Yeah, I’m very very happy with my daughter. (Reading chat) What was for dinner? Well not crayola applesauce!

—

Cleo (in response to someone complimenting her 3rd Life videos): Awe! Thank you joytobake, that’s really nice! I am…always pleased when people like my personality. Because I’m never sure that people should, you know?

Joe: Yeah, that’s— that’s what we were talking about— I think before we started streaming, was like, Cleo really gets me, and that’s a huge red flag.

Cleo: That’s a— yeah. As a human being. Understanding Joe - massive red flag. Huge. This is a danger. To everybody. And particularly Joe.

Joe: It’s the terror of being truly known.

—

00:47:08

Joe: Up until this point I didn’t show the instructions, but now I feel like I have to.

Cleo: Because otherwise people are going to judge your competency?

Joe: Yeah! They’re gonna go “ok. Any idiot can figure out how these pieces go together” but if you look at these instructions, that’s not true. I’m a spectacular idiot, and I have no idea what I’m doing with these.

Cleo: I mean. I want— I want to confirm. Yes. Spectacular.

Joe: Yes. Thank you Cleo.

Cleo: *snicker* You’re welcome Joe. I always like to insult the people I care about the most.

Joe (quietly): I know…I appreciate it.

Cleo (Watching chat): I’m waiting for Cam to confirm that.

(Cam in chat: She insults me SO MUCH, she called me a gibbon last night…)

—

00:59:42

Joe: *reading tips*

Cleo (reading chat): “you can’t stop Joe when he’s on a role.” This is true.

Joe (not paying attention): *still reading tips*

Cleo: I mean you can, you just have to go: Joe. Joe. JOE. And then he stops sometimes.

Joe (quietly, but with emphasis): WHAAAAAAAAAAT??!?

Cleo: I’M DOING A THING!

—

01:00:46

Joe (reading tips): “This is an encouragement donation for more of you singing in the future.” Ooo, I think Cleo would like that because the future is not now.

—

01:02:23

Cleo (genuine singing): Ground control to major Tom…

Joe: *listening in awe*

Cleo: …That’s…pretty much all I know…

Joe: Oh, I was gonna let you keep going, I— I wanted to hear more.

Cleo: Oh no. That’s pretty much all I know.

Joe: But yeah. Hypothermic haddoc writes (singing) “tell my wife I love her very much!” …I was waiting for you to jump in with the (singing) “she knoooooows!”

Cleo: Again. Again, I don’t know the song very well.

Joe: Oh. And here I am sitting in my tin can—

—

01:47:54

Cleo: *leaves to get a drink*

Joe: While you’re getting your drink I guess I’ll provide some musical entertainment.

SILENCE

Joe: …I don’t have anything prepared. So, let’s see…do we have any birthdays? *laughing* if it’s anybody’s birthday I’ll sing to you while Cleo’s gone.

Cleo: I’m back.

Joe: Oh ok. Well, sorry birthday boys. And girls.

Cleo: feel free to sing to people. I’m sure people want that.

Joe: no…well, I was gonna do it while you were away cause I need to get up and get my drink as soon as you’re back.

Cleo: Oh, go and get a drink and I will sing happy birthday—

Joe: So I’m gonna go get my drink, I’ll be right back.

Cleo: —to people who have chosen to spend their birthday…here…I’m not judging, uh, but— (upbeat singing) Happy Birthday to you! You smell like a zoo! (Talking) …uh, etcetera etcetera… (Singing) I forgot how this song goes! Nevermind it sucks to be you! *blows a raspberry*

—

01:49:09

Cleo: I mean it’s Cams birthday on Saturday, and I will sing to Cam on his birthday. His birthday is not today. I mean he probably wants me to not sing to him on his birthday, to be fair—

[Cam: Please don’t sing to me]

Cleo: —but you know, I might do it anyway. Cause it’s obnoxious. And I will laugh. (Reading chat) “Happy Birthday! Here’s some genocide! Please don’t sing to me…” *laughing* I won’t sing to you if you don’t want me to, Honey.

[Cam: Not happy birthday at least lol]

Cleo: I might torture you in other ways though.

—

01:50:55

Cleo: Hiiiiii Jooooooe.

Joe: Hello! Joe Hiws hewe! I am back fwom my dwink bweak!

Cleo: …what is that voice?

Joe (in a Kermit the Frog/Swedish Chef/Yoda hybrid of an accent): I feewl wike it’s fwom home star wunner or something, I don’t know! It’s almost Kermit THe Fwog Hewe, but not quITe!

*Cleo laughing*

It’s a little— (Normal voice) I dunno. I still had some of my drink in my throat, so I was like— I didn’t wanna like accidentally cough it out on the microphone as soon as I started talking. So I was just like (weird voice continues) I’ll do thIS vOIce

*Squealing giggling from Cleo*

(Same iteration of previous accent now blended somehow with the voice of Goofy from Micky Mouse) It’ll keep my mOUth in a shape that if I start— me coughing up a dwink it’ll just go into the chEEks on EIther sIde. It’s a natuwal, uh bARRier against, uh, hydration escapism! Uh yuh!!

Cleo: *giggles* Ok Joe. Ok.

Joe: *high pitched laughing* I don’t know Cleo! I’m just gonna keep making noises until people give me money! It’s jus— it’s how I pay rent.

Cleo: *laughing* Making noises until people give you— ahhhh…..

Joe: Yeah

Cleo: — actually…..yeah. Yeah. Yeah…Um (reading chat) “it’s drunk Kermit” *wheezing*

Joe (drunk Kermit The Frog voice): It’s 5:00 somewhere!

Cleo: *laughing* thanks for this. I needed— I needed this moment of— of— whatever this was.

—

01:53:54

Joe: So my daughter said the most Wednesday Adams thing to me the other day—

Cleo: Oh no

Joe: Except she didn’t do the deadpan delivery. She was very upbeat about this. So apparently “UP” has, on Dinsey+ a series of shorts about the old man and the dog. Right? And they’re called something like “a Dougs Life” cause Doug is the name of the dog

Cleo: yeah.

Joe: and she goes “oh! And it’s short! Like a dogs lifespan!”

SILENCE

Cleo: …Your…kid is very much your kid, you know that right?

Joe (proud dad): I know right?!

—

01:58:20

Cleo: I mean…you’d kill it at the Met Galla. Not gonna lie.

Joe (excited): Oh my god— I wanna get one of those Manuel suits that has like all the rhinestones and the flowers on it? Um, but, you know, like, those are very expensive.

Cleo: We live with what we can afford. Maybe someone can make you a Diamond encrusted suit that you can wear on camera. And have all the sparkles as green.

Joe (very excited): Oh my gosh— actually— so—

02:20:45

Joe: Meanwhile in my Discord everyone’s posting what they describe as “eye searingly beautiful” lime green wedding dresses. For my next wedding. Um—

Cleo: *snicker* is that what you’re wearing for your next wedding?

Joe: you know, honestly at this point I don’t wanna make any assumptions about anything.

Cleo: *cackling*

—

02:31:07

(This is context for the next one)

Cleo (reading chat): “some people have too much time on their hands” I mean, I personally would not drive 8 hours to see— um…

Joe: …me?

Cleo: I dunno, I might drive 8 hours to see you.

Joe: I offered to drive 8 hours to see you when you were coming to Disney and you said no, so I’m gonna assume that you would not drive 8 hours to see me.

Cleo: I mean, I— li— the key word there was “might”. I wou— I would have to have my mini frea— well I was freaked out at that point. When you offered, and and I was just like “oh god no.” Because, you know, social anxiety is a thing.

Joe: Mhm. I’ve heard of that.

Cleo: Yeah. And I do not do well particularly meeting people for the first time, even people I’ve known for a while. I go very very quiet and umm…I think it’s worse actually with people that I’ve known for a while? Um, online, um…because— cause my brain goes “well you’re gonna make a s—your, your— your going to do something and say something stupid. You going— they’re gonna hate you in real life” um…so, yeah. My brain absolutely freaked out at that moment.

—

02:34:12

Cleo: But, you know, like I say, I get hate mail on the regular, it’s fine. I mean part of that is daring to be a woman on the Internet, but only part. The other part is the fact that I’m also an awful human being. So, you know.

SILENCE

Cleo: …the silence isn’t doing— the silence doesn’t do you— do me any favours Joe.

Joe: Well, you know, I didn’t wanna talk over you when you’re sharing your insecurities.

Cleo: yeah….

Joe: That seems rude.

Cleo: I mean—

Joe: So I wanted to make sure you were done.

Cleo: no no no no, that’s fine. I’m always done Joe.

Joe: And nOW I can actually tell you how I really feel.

Cleo: No, please don’t. Not onl— no. That will— that will make me even more uncomfortable.

Joe (upbeat singing): The praise train is on its way!! Choo choo!!

Cleo: Noooooooooooooooooo!! Nooo!!

Joe: For Cleo it’s her day!! Choo choo!!

Cleo: *noises of distress*

Joe: Cleo is really great!! Choo choo!! Choo choo!!

Cleo: *distressful crying*

Joe: She’s not merely ok!! She doesn’t have to be the best at talking to people for the first time!! Cause they’ll love her anyway!! And sometimes they’ll even rhyyyme!! Yay for Cleo!!

Cleo: *physically going through a full body cringe* noooo

Joe: See, it would have been rude if I did that in the middle of your thing.

Cleo: *sob laughing*

Joe: That would not have been socially acceptable.

Cleo (through tears): I’m not even sure it was socially acceptable now.

Joe: WHY NOT?!

Cleo: (sobbing and laughing simultaneously) I hate you so much.

—

02:38:05

Cleo (reading chat): “We all need a Joe in our life, who sings a theme song for us when we’re talking ourselves down” I’m not sure you do.

Joe: Yeah, that wasn’t really a theme song? Like, if I was gonna do a theme song for Cleo—

Cleo (with immense dread): Oh no…no…no…

—

02:43:07

Joe: I’d just like to point out (very obnoxiously high pitched voice) That this is Cleo’s average person voice, which means that 50% of people have an even higher pitched voice!

Cleo: …You know, I can’t actually stab Joe through the Internet. And I’ve always been upset about that.

—

02:53:36

Joe (with all the enthusiasm of a 16 year old girl gossiping at a slumber party): Ooo I wanna ask Cleo about giiiiiirls!!!

Cleo: Ask me about girls! I’m— I’m happy for you to ask me about girls.

Joe: Ok, so, do you— do you feel comfortable saying what your specific, uh, type of woman is? I’m— I’m curious about that.

Cleo: Um, it’s— it’s nerdy girls? Specifically. Umm…not too, um…you know, the kind of running, climbing, you know— sort of— person. You know, it’s— it’s the sort of— it’s the sort of— action girl kinda thing. I kinda like that type. That’s sort of my type.

Joe: Mhm. Yeah, like—

Cleo: Why, what’s your type of girl?

Joe: Well, uh, usually it’s somebody that is— very anti authority— un— un— dissatisfied with the status quo. So usually more punk, or that sort of thing.

Cleo: Yeah. That’s— that’s— that sort of plays into the action girl sort of thing as well. Yeah I get that. So yeah.

Joe: yeah, umm, you— yeah so I don’t know. Um— so not necessarily, uh, as focused on the athleticism element there, but I know like—

Cleo: Well it’s not really athleticism, it’s— it’s more— it’s more—

Joe: —in terms of like, um, hiking, cause like, uh, you know in college there’s like a climbing and camping club or whatever—

Cleo: Oh yeah, it’s not that sort of person. It’s— it’s more, um…getting out and having a go at things. Like, you know, not— not being afraid to—

Joe: Adventurous

Cleo: Yeah! Adventurous! That’s the word!

—

Cleo (whispering): I don’t know where this bit goes! *gasp* it goes over there!

Joe (whispering): You can do it!

Cleo: I can do it! I believe in me!

Joe: You’ll find a place to glue it! It doesn’t necessarily have to be the right place!

Cleo: I know!

Joe: You’re equally valid regardless!

Cleo: Thanks Joe!

Joe: You’re welcome!

Cleo: It’s appreciated!

[trentaafcsblog]

Take Your Daddy To School Day

Trent Alexander-Arnold

This is my entry for the lovely @footballffbarbiex’s writing challenge 🤍 thank you so much for letting me take part, I hope you all enjoy it and please go and have a look if it’s something that you might be interested in - there’s some lovely prompts still to choose from x

It’s been a good what...seventeen, maybe eighteen, years since Trent was sat on the yellow table in the Hedgehogs Class? The classroom still has exactly the same name and layout as it did when he was there all those years ago. The same blue felt tip stain on the bottom of one of the walls from where the boy in the year above ‘accidentally’ wrote his name in his four-year-old squiggly handwriting, and the water tray still being full of the same plastic dinosaurs that he used to chase his friends with when it was time for creative play. The name pegs by the front windows are still where they used to be too. Teeny tiny wooden hedgehogs glued above the multicoloured hooks, a white label stuck beneath them with all of the children’s names on. And obviously your little girl’s coat and bag hang on the first peg, just like Trent’s used to, because they’re ordered alphabetically, a wave of nostalgia hitting him because he used to love hanging his belongings there as it meant he was the first to leave at the end of the day - and it just so happens that your little girl has also picked up on her daddy’s habits when it comes to wanting to get out of there as soon as possible.

“Put your knees under the table, daddy” she’s tutting as T does everything he can to squash them under the yellow-topped desk without accidentally flipping it and sending the pot of scissors, glue sticks and blunt pencils across the room. His cheeks turning a dark shade of pink when your little girl’s teacher spots him shuffling around awkwardly and trying to disguise the fact that he’s in absolute agony, only intensifying when your daughter insists on pointing out daddy’s ‘raspberry face’ to the little boy sat on the table behind. But eventually he’s managing to do it, although the little plastic chair he’s sat on is now threatening to collapse, the metal legs bowing slightly each time he leans more to one side to help your little girl with her work or has to turn around when one of the children gasps and points before not so quietly whispering ‘that’s the man that kicks a football’.

“Daddy, you can do this one” she’s announcing as they plough their way through the worksheet they’ve been given to complete by lunchtime. “But I’ve just done all of these ones” he’s giggling as he points to the group of maths questions he’s just answered because he knows your little girl struggles with her numbers and he’s too soft to let her sit and find the answer on her own. “But you’re cleverer than me” she smiles, hoping that her compliment persuades Trent to write the answer down, not that he needs any sort of persuasion because he’s already scribbling down the answer, but she’s already picked up on the fact that if you’re nice to people, they’ll be nice to you - something she definitely uses to her advantage. 

They’re both managing to finish the work before the bell rings for lunch, a miracle really since they've been interrupted every two minutes by one of other dads having a fangirl moment or one of the mums trying their best to impress Trent with their very limited football knowledge, obviously hoping that he’s blown away by it and runs off into the sunset with them. But regardless, they’re getting it done in time and heading off to the lunch hall together hand in hand. Trent carrying both of their lunch boxes and politely waving to the screaming children in the classrooms they walk past, your little girl still too innocent to understand why daddy attracts so much attention, hence the string of ‘why are they shouting at yous?’ as they make their way into the dining hall.

They’re sitting opposite each other on one of the collapsible tables with little blue seats. The smell of whatever unappetising it is being served for lunch filling their noses and making Trent feel quite sick, acting as a reminder as to why he refused to eat school dinners and instead stuck to his cream cheese sandwiches that were wrapped up in his Spider-Man lunch box. “Cheers” your little girl’s giggling as she smashes her jam sandwich against Trent’s tuna one, both of them cut into tiny little squares which T had begged you not to do, but it’s not really a ‘take your dad to school day’ if he doesn’t eat the same as the children, is it? Which is exactly why the Liverpool shirt shaped lunch box he picked up from the club shop on the way home from training the other night is full of a packet of Mini Cheddars, a strawberry Frube yoghurt (even though he tried to pretend that he didn’t like them), two tangerines to try and balance out the sugar in the Mr Kipling angel cake, and a Capri Sun which he has no shame in admitting that he absolutely loves. 

Their twenty minute playtime afterwards is consisting of Trent taking on the rest of the school in a football match, but obviously it’s not cool to be seen playing football with your dad in front of all of your friends, hence why your little girl is deciding to engage in a very in-depth discussion about last night’s episode of Peppa Pig instead, occasionally turning around to see if T’s still winning, which obviously he is, despite having about a hundred children slide tackling into him and pulling his shirt. “Are you not proud of me?” he’s saying jokingly as he makes his way off the pitch and over to your baby girl who’s pretending that she can’t see Trent leaping around in front of all of her friends, all because he beat a bunch of five year olds at his own job. “Daddy, stop!” she’s giggling, grateful for the few curls around the edge of her face that mask her blushing cheeks because seeing your daddy show everyone up is one thing, but now having him flexing about it is another. 

They’re making their way back to the Hedgehogs Class when the bell rings to signal the end of lunchtime. A few parents leaping in front of the two of them on the way to congratulate Trent on his most recent performances and awards, causing even more confusion for your little girl because since when has the whole world known about daddy and his job? And why is Jacob’s mummy, who always causes a scene in the playground when she sees someone wearing a football shirt because it’s ‘tacky’ and ‘the most pathetic sport’, suddenly so interested in a game that she tells everyone she hates? Or is she just interested in Trent? Who knows.

The two of them are spending the rest of the day doing creative play, flicking between playing with the dinosaurs in the water table, to making you a card for no other reason than because they love you, to creating one another out of red and yellow PlayDoh - something Trent won’t be doing again because he’s convinced himself that he looks like the slightly disfigured model that your daughter has made - one foot three times the size of the other, an unfortunate bulge on the top of his head, and arms that are extremely long and skinny. And his doubts aren’t going away because your little girl keeps reinforcing the fact that ‘it’s you, daddy’, much to the amusement of all of the other parents who giggle away at how disappointed and awkward he looks after being compared to crusty piece of five-year-old PlayDoh.

“I had fun with you being a big boy at school today” she’s saying as she walks hand in hand with Trent over to her peg, his dad instinct coming out as he helps her put her coat on and pack her book bag. “Did you?” he’s asking, his heart melting into a puddle when she nods her head and gives him a little smile. “I had so much fun too, even if you did splash me at the water table” he’s saying, tickling her sides and making her giggle at the memory of the plastic dinosaur ‘accidentally’ dropping from above her head right into the water in front of him. “Shall we go and tell mummy about today then?” he’s saying as he reaches down and takes her hand in his before the two of them are stepping out into the playground together, your little girl bursting with excitement ready to tell you all about their day and how Trent now has a gold star stuck on the wall for being the ‘cleverest at knowing all of the dinosaurs’ names’.

[gar-trek]

AMT U.S.S Enterprise model kit built part 1 :0

Warning, this is probably going to be very boring to the vast majority of you, I just thought it might be fun to track my process on this project.

Like I posted about before, I picked up this kit from the antique store. It seemed like at some point someone had built this thing, because all the pieces were put together, but then they ripped it apart again so it would fit back in the box. They also never put the decals on or decorate it, which I’m very happy about, otherwise I’d have a lot more work to do.

This is everything that came in the box (except for the little front piece, which I was already working on when I took this picture, woops) everything is in pretty good condition except for one of the arms that attached the engines, which got snapped off from the hull. I’m assuming (hoping) it’s not going to be a big deal and glue will strong enough to keep the two parts together.

I’ve never built any models other then some Gundam Robots, but those are snap together so the process is very different from this. I just kinda did a lot of thinking about what I wanted to do with this, and how I was going to do it. First of all I wanted it to be sick as hell. I cannot just slap glue on it and call it a day, otherwise it’s really not worth the 30 something dollars I spent on it. Second I wanted lights. This model isn’t really made to light up, but I knew it was possible and something a lot of people do add to their models. Also, my dad had a pack of tiny LED lights laying around the house he said I could use (thanks dad). I also wanted to spend as little money as possible, as I always try to do when making crafts.

With all that in mind, I’ve formed a very half baked plan. First if all, there are parts of the ship that are supposed to glow, but obviously won’t because the whole thing is made out of opaque plastic. There are tiny holes in the saucer section, which I think will do nicely as windows if I just stick a light in there and let it glow through. All fine there. Looking at imagines of the ship, there is also a big blue light near the back of the saucer. My plan there is to just drill a hole and let one of the LEDs stick out. But, my biggest concern was for the thing in the front to glow, it has to glow.

My original plan was to make a mold of the front piece out of silicone caulk and then use resin to remake the whole piece,,,, but this time see-through!!! Mostly this plan was born out of me already having all the stuff necessary to give it a try, but I didn’t have that much faith in it. And for good reason too cuz it failed!!! Well kind of. Silicone caulk is used to fill up cracks and gaps in walls, not for resin molds. It came out better then expected but it smelled like vinagre and it got all over my hands in the process which made me mad so I just scraped that idea before I wasted my time actually pouring the resin.

Anyway then I thought why am I wasting time trying to MAKE the piece when I can just find a already made replacement, because really it was just a small slightly curved piece of plastic. So thankfully I was able to find this big plastic ball thingie I knew would work fine.

The first picture is half the ball, the small piece I cut out, and the un-altered front piece. I drilled out the front piece with a dremel, then sanded both pieces smooth till they could fit together nicely. Easy easy!!!!! (Well, a little time consuming, but easy). I made some transparent paint out of mod podge, food coloring, and a little bit of water and slapped that on the clear piece and well-

She glows! Of course it’s a bit of a hack job, but not too bad for random crap I found in my house, and I either way it’s a lot more accurate then the original. This front part was very important to me, so I’m glad it turned out okay with no major disaster (tho I could nit pick all day…. That big ol 5 on the front for example 😭) but anyway that’s it for now…. Yep that much writing to tell you about one piece, I warned you this was gonna be boring! I’m going to try and find something for thrusters (engines ? Those things that stick out on either side) next, because those are also supposed to glow. If I can just find a groved clear plastic somewhere in my house, we’re golden. Then it’s on to installing the LEDs, putting it together and painting, yayyy!!!!

[buglife]

22 for Quirrel and Monomon (Monomom) has mother/son relationship.

22. “Boom! That’s a victory in my book!”

(No beta reader and I apologize for any errors! I will put this on A03 later most likely.)

Monomon hrmed to herself as she tapped her mask with the end of a quill. She has been working on the same chemical formula for the past few hours. Lurien had swore up and down that if only she could come up with some sort of...mild...explosive, that it could theoretically be used as a source of power. He had explained that using such a compound could potentially power a machine through sheer physics alone and keep going without the need of further input, at least until the compound ran out. Something about gears and pistons and other things...she didn’t quite catch it all through his ramblings. He had most likely stayed up for days again and is most likely now forcibly put to bed by his butler. Lurien may be hilarious when sleep deprived but she didn’t want her friend to up and die from lack of said sleep.

Still it was very interesting and even if the idea didn’t work, it was always nice to have a new type of explosive around. You know. For reasons. Not just for the good of the kingdom after all.

Before she could continue her musings or her notes, she was interrupted by the sound of sniffling and the tapping of tiny feet passing her door. This part of the archives was her private home, which meant that the only source of the noise would be her adopted son, now home from school. It was highly unusual that he just didn’t barge on in to yell about some new fact he learned or to show off his marks like most days. He is quite the excitable little pip and always happy to ask questions his teachers couldn’t answer.

She put down her quill in instant concern and floated over her seat, leaving her work behind on her desk. She opened the door to her study and poked out her head, listening.

Yep, she still heard the sniffling, but down the hall and behind the door covered in crayon drawings and book posters.  The door was also closed as well, another unusual thing. She held up a tentacle curled up the tip to knock softly once she approached, and waited for the answer.

“Sniff...come in.” The voice behind the door was so sad, it made her pseudo-heart clench as she cracked open the door.

“Quirrel, are you okay?” She regretted the question as soon as she asked it once she saw her adopted son. Little Quirrel looked absolutely miserable, tiny antenna drooping as he rubbed his eyes. He wasn’t old enough for a mask yet, so she could see that he must have been crying for a while. He was half curled up. Most likely he was fully balled up in distress before she knocked, which gave her a spark of pride that he trusted her to open up a little. A far cry from when she found him only a few years ago, all alone.

Monomon drifted over to gently sit on the bed with her little pillbug, wrapping a comforting tentacle around his small body. She used another to pat his head gently between the antenna, something that he always liked. She kept her outer self gentle as she wiped away tears and dried his face. Inside however, she was calculating how much acid she will need per volume to remove all traces of those responsible for making her dear little pip cry. Surely the kingdom won’t miss a few bugs here and there, right?

It’s so very hard to see such a tiny little child upset. What made it worse is that she doesn’t know exactly how old he is. The doctors estimated around six or seven now last time she took him in for a check up. Still, too small to be this sad, in her humble opinion. 

“What happened, my little scholar?” She had let him calm down a little before she decided it was okay to start looking for answers. She’ll give him all the time he needed to speak.

He hugged one of her tentacles and buried his face into the soft material. He didn’t speak for a moment,  grounding himself before he managed to choke out a short sentence.

“They ruined it.”

“Ruined, what, my dear?” She continued her cuddling and felt him relax a little.

“My project.” He freed one of his arms long enough to point to a smooshed box on the floor of the room.

She was big enough that all she really needed to do was to crane her head and look without having to stop snuggling her child. She couldn’t help but wince a little at the sight. She knew what that was. In the smashed up box was an equally smashed up mess that was once an intricately put together model of the White Palace. The numerous Popsicle sticks so lovingly glitter glued together was snapped to pieces. The fiends even crumbled up the little paper windows he so carefully cut out and glued into place. She had watched him labor over this project for a solid week, and if she remembered right, he was supposed to turn it in today with the rest of his class. She had to think a minute as her own teaching plans muddled into the ones Quirrel talked about having in school. Sometimes it was hard to keep track of it all.

“They meh—m--mashed it up cause they said I’m-m-m a show off and nobody likes show offs and that’s why no-nobody likes me in school and I make everyone else look bad to-to the teacher.” He was in tears again and she for a moment wondered just how much could be left in such a small little body.

“Listen to me, my little scholar.” She once again took on tear wiping duty, taking a second tentacle to tickle under his chin the way she knows he likes. “What those people are, are bullies. Nothing they say is the truth.”

“But...but they”

“They said the things they knew would make you feel sad.” She interrupted before he could begin one of his negative spiraling thoughts. “It’s what they want to do, to make you upset.”

“But...why?” Quirrel is such an innocent soul. Despite his past, he still can’t understand why someone would be willfully cruel unless he somehow caused it.

“For many reasons. Most likely for this one, they were jealous. They didn’t like that you made something they felt wasn’t as good as theirs so they wanted to punish you for it.” The look in her young sons’ eyes told her to continue with a little more elaboration. “Again, it wasn’t your fault. You did nothing wrong. You just wanted to make us all proud, and I will always be proud of you.”

He shuffled his feet a little, still unsure on how to take the praise, but she could tell it made him very happy.

“Even if it got all smashed up?”

“Even if it got all smashed up.” She tweaked his cheek pad lovingly. She suddenly had an idea. A no good, terrible idea. An idea that could help out both her little Quirrel and herself.

“Now, I want you to tell me or your teacher right away if this happens again. But, I think I have an idea to make them leave you alone, for a while at least.”

Quirrel looked up with his big wide eyes. “How?

She grinned back at him. “How about we conduct a little experiment?”

---

“Hey! Nerd!”

Quirrel paused, holding his box snugly to his chest. He slowly turned around to find his tormentors right behind him. These were three larger students that smashed his project the other day. He could tell they were angry. Even though he didn’t turn in his project yesterday, it seemed like they still got low marks...and now they were going to take it out on him. Of course, they cornered him in the alley, away from prying adult eyes. They always bullied him away from any sort of help.

“Whatcha got here, shrimp? Did you make your project again? Trying to show us up?” The largest bug demanded, deliberately bumping into the pillbug and making him stumble.

“I think he did.” The second and third bug closed in. “It must make him happy to make us look bad.”

“No! I don’t!” Quirrel protested. He stood up as straight as he could and puffed up a little, just like mama told him to.

“Don’t talk back to us, speck!” The largest bug grabbed the box and tossed it to the ground. “Come on boys, seems little Quirrly needs another lesson on what we do to know-it-alls around here!”

As soon as the big bugs stepped around the box, Quirrel retreated to a safe distance. The bullies were so focused on the box that they didn’t notice Monomon drift around the building to stand with her son, looping a tentacle around his shoulders.

“Watch,” She whispered.

Quirrel did watch, paying attention as all three bullies raised their legs at the same time and brought their feet down as hard as they could on the box.

There was a second where nothing happened, and then came a popping BOOM as the package exploded. Bright pink glitter and glue flung itself out of the box with the force of the explosion and utterly covered the bullies with a liberal coating of sparkles. Squealing in panic and fear, Quirrel watched as the three stumbled over themselves, tripping and rolling as they tried to escape. They finally flung themselves down the alley as fast as they could, still sliding around on loose glitter and glue as the fled out into the crowded streets.

It only took a moment to hear a roar of laughter echo off into the distance, most likely chasing the three bullies no matter where they tried to run.

Quirrel fell down, laughing so hard he couldn’t keep standing. Monomon looked down at her son with pride, trying to also keep her laughing in.

“Boom! That’s a victory in my book! Let’s see them mess with you again, eh?”

Quirrel nodded as he tried to hold in his giggles. He found himself being picked up and brushed off by his mother, setting him up on her shoulder.

“Come now, let's have a talk with your teacher, shall we?”

Quirrel nodded, and both mother and son left the ally, leaving their ingenious trap behind them.

[stxrrywildflower]

disbanded (1)

pairing - spencer reid x reader

summary - after emily’s death, the still grieving bau team disbands in hopes of the time off doing some emotional healing. however, for you and spencer, strauss recruits you for your own individual team almost immediately. months later, after new case details are discovered, you and spencer are forced to call in your old team for assistance

warnings - case details, angst

series masterlist

seven months.

seven months had gone by and the team had barely heard anything from you or spencer.

there were occasional texts, letters, and phone calls. the messages were always brief, never lasting more than a few sentences or minutes.

j.j. returned to the bau around three months in. she was changed, everyone noticed that. the blonde agent put on a facade, masking any signs of trauma or difference.

the only crack in her foundation was when she saw the practically empty desk. it came as a suprise to see desks normal covered in pictures and other items now almost cleared. the only reminder of your presence was both of your name plates remaining.

everyone felt a toll with what was going on. they were missing three out of eight team members. sure, they weren’t working active cases, but just having everyone around made a difference.

hotch was the leader. the alpha-male. he kept everyone in line while providing the support and care any member of his team needed at all times. though his leadership in the middle east was more then successful, they missed having the role model to look up to.

spencer was the kid. the boy genius. his intelligence was more than impressive, though he often used it as a shields. his facts, while sometimes unneeded, provided the final piece of a profile to catch the unsub. the team never knew they could miss his rambling more.

you were the glue. the one that kept the team together. though your presence was still fairly new in comparison to others, your witty remarks and overal care for everyone acted as a backbone. your relationship with spencer was almost model worthy, something everyone wanted to look up. you changed spencer in the best way possible.

they knew where hotch had gone. but for you and spencer, no one had any clue. when j.j hunted down and questioned anderson, the man had very obviously lied about not knowing before leaving to go back to work.

eventually they stopped asking.

four months later, hotch returned. his return back was less then minimal, being greeted with smiles, hugs, and even the stray comment about the beard. the reunion was short lived as hotch had requested them all to meet in the conference room.

curious and concerned gazes were thrown back and forth. no one voiced their confusion, choosing to obey the orders of their leader and take seats for the first time in seven months around the round table.

“we’ve been called in,” the unit chief started.

✦✧✦✧

across the country, you threw your head back in annoyance with the case. spencer leaned against the table, one arm crossed across his body while the other ran over his lip.

the recent case was becoming increasingly difficult. a series of robbery homicides involving a team of seven different members was terrorizing the city of los angeles.

you had successfully identified four members though the other three were a mystery. there were many facts pointing to the possibility of involvement in organized crime. one wrong move in your investigation and a lot more could go wrong.

three days and no solid leads.

usually you and spencer were wrapping up other cases by now. instead, you were sitting in one of the rooms at the los angeles police department reviewing the profile over and over. spencer, on the other hand, was going though every report you had on the unsubs, desperate to find something that could like them all together to give you a clue.

what didn’t help was the heat. the summer heat was hitting the city hard, you and spencer shedding your suit jackets as a result.

“have you checked prison records?” you asked, looking at the board in front of you.

“yes, absolutely no connections there.”

you huffed. you weren’t getting anywhere despite having a near perfect profile and organized board showing a whole crime family tree.

“we need to call in some extra help,” you finally admitted.

“y/n,” spencer started. “i don’t think we really need them. i mean we work perfectly fine on our own. we’re pretty much the new rossi and gideon.”

“look, i don’t really want to see them either. but if we don’t figure out something soon, more people are going to die. a fresh set of eyes could do us good,” you replied.

spencer fiddled with collar of his shirt, a nervous habit he had picked up a few months ago. it was a telltale of his growing concern or anxiety over a situation.

you sat down beside the genius, resting your hand on top of his. “hey, it’s one case. after this we’re back solving cases on our own. does that sound okay?”

“i’ll go make the call.”

✦✧✦✧

“why do they need us? we don’t even have a full team,” morgan was already protesting after the very minimal briefing.

“because y/n and reid requested our help,” hotch answewd.

j.j. most notability flinched at the mention of your names. “what do you mean they need out help? i haven’t really heard from them in months,” j.j. pipped in.

hotch sighed. “back when we split up, strauss inquired y/n and reid to continue doing our job, traveling and all. i was only aware of it because technically i’m still their boss. it’s a lot more intense then when we were traveling, hence their absence. but their success is incredibly high. i don’t have the exact number but it’s around sixty-three cases solved in seven months. of that, five or less have ended in having to shoot the unsub.”

rossi let our a low whistle at that. “have either of them been hurt at all?”

“a few minor injuries but none involving hospitalization

the unit chief looked around at his team, all displaying very conflicted emotions.

“we’ll leave here at five tomorrow morning. be prepared for a long case.”

the team arrived the following morning, heading up to the second floor of the police department at promptly nine am. everyone was slightly jet lagged, time zones the direct cause of that.

just seconds after they had arrived, who they presumed was the police chief headed over on their direction, already extending a hand to shake.

“i’m detective henderson. the other two agents on the case apologize for the absence and should be back soon. one of the family members requested to see him,” the police chief introduced. “but you can all set up in here.”

the team followed the chief through the office and into the usual conference room they were offered. no one failed to take note of the other room occupied, a familiar messanger bag resting on the table.

“and here we are. there’s information posted on the board but i’m sure the agents will explain it when they arrive. please feel free to come to me with any questions.”

hotch was the one to thank the chief. “alright let’s sit down and go over the files. we didn’t have a lot to go off of back at quantico but there’s a ton here.”

it couldn’t have been more than thirty minutes that they waiting, using that time to run through theories about the identified unsubs and ways to find the missing three.

the room seemed to stop, all eyes going towards the elevator.

the team stood up all at once, already suspecting who was about to walk in. their suspicions were proven to be correct as you and spencer stepped out, eyes looking straight ahead.

to put it simply, you two looked and acted different.

seemingly small things for outsiders but things that meant everything for the team had changed.

handshakes replaced hugs. nods replaced smiles. iced coffee replaced hot. even spencer’s revolver he used since the ldsk case was replaced with a glock 19.

since when did spencer drink red bull?

even your style of clothing altered. spencer’s dress pants and sweaters were swapped out for one-piece suits, tie and all. your blouse and dress pants changed into suits, having matching patterned tight pants and blazers, heels to top it off. your outfits both looked ten times more formal.

“agent hotchner,” you greeted, extending your hand.

it was obvious hotch, as well as the rest of the team, was taken back by your words and presence. the last time anyone close to hotch refer to him as ‘agent hotchner’ was when they first met him. he was always very clear about preferring the abbreviated version of his last name.

spencer was the exact same as you, his discomfort with shaking hands seemingly vanished. it pained morgan that he couldn’t reach out and hug the man he considered to be his little brother.

“i apologize for us not being here when you arrived, i know from experience that it’s a long flight. the board in your room has all the information we’ve collected. there’s a timeline, victim list, crime scene photos, and then a family tree. we also have transcripts which can be sent to your tablets. other than that, the case details are in the file folders and you’re good to go,” you explained.

“y/n,” hotch called, stopping both you and spencer from walking away.

“before you ask, i really think we need to focus on this case before discussing transfers. don’t you think so?”

☆ ☆ ☆

tags - @tinylumpiaa @rumplebutterbitch @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @the-quarantine-diaries @ah-blossom @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal @aperrywilliams @kissessforharryyy @garcias-batcave @reidswords @etherealgubler @spenceneedsahug @jjandreidsgirl @zoseph @emilouu @mortallythoughtfulgurl @alexxcorona113 @swiftspaperings @gia-kerks @mggstyles

[mavericksy]

BNHA Gift-Giving (4.5)

CLASS 1B

How they wrap gifts: 

Monoma: Exquisitely done, with beautiful, high-quality wrapping paper and tasteful decorations, often a ribbon. Personalises his greeting card message for each person.  Kendou: Average wrapping skills, but she does like to mix up the paper she uses. She usually switches between three or four different rolls, and especially likes that heavy-duty, sparkly paper. Not one to bother with decoration.  Tetsutetsu: Has a tendency to get over-excited and completely fortify his presents. They get passed around the room, with each person trying to force a fingernail underneath the various layers of tape that have been adhered to the sides. Eventually Kamakiri steps in, or somebody goes to fetch a knife, but even then it becomes a battle to try and force the blade underneath a completely flat stretch of gift wrap, or a small mountain of tape.  Setsuna: Very wrapping-averse. She puts a decent amount of care and effort into the first gift she wraps, which quickly dissolves into just trying to cover the darn things as quickly as possible so she can do something else. However, she’s good at using her quirk to hold down tape or paper that’s caught in awkward angles.  Kuroiro: Minimalist and mysterious. He goes for plain white or black paper with a contrasting bow. He tries to make his wrapping neat, but there are some imperfections when you look closely.  Komori: Eco-friendly gift wrap for the win! Her paper is good-quality and usually has a slightly bumpy texture to it, which a lot of people find nice to run their hands along. She goes all-out when it comes to decorations- usually giant, frilly bows- but the final effect is always tasteful.  Honenuki: Has a thing for brown paper, with the recipient’s name written neatly on the top in black marker. Also a big fan of using string, which he thinks adds a vintage quality.  Yanagi: Tends to go for gift wrap that has artistic designs or painted scenes. Despite liking Christmas itself, a major annoyance for her during the holiday season is seeing bright and goofy gift-wrap, which she finds tacky and overdone. Her gifts are beautiful, and always come with a red bow, but they have a solemn vibe to them.  Kodai: She finds wrapping gifts extremely relaxing. She keeps a series of boxes in her room, which she sizes up or down using her quirk to make them fit the gift. Her quirk also enables her to make a single sheet of gift wrap last throughout the entire year, as she can just cut a small square and resize it where necessary. It isn’t uncommon for her gifts to have gigantic prints on them. Her wrapping method is precise and neat.  Rin: Very neat, but a little plain. He likes to embellish his gift tags with small cartoons of each person. Likes paper with geometric patterns.  Kaibara: Similar to Rin, neat but a little plain. He is more likely to use glossy paper in just one color, with a small metallic bow, usually silver. He does sometimes include origami gift tags with the leftover paper.  Fukidashi: Designs his own wrappings paper for each person, including his friends and family. For people he doesn’t know as well, he has a series of go-to generic designs, but the level of skill and taste is high. The designs are sent to a website where they are printed, though the quality is a little cheap due to how many custom orders he ends up making. Decoration-wise, each gift is different, and elaborate arrangements are common. Midoriya gets very anxious about his own gift-wrapping prowess in the face of Fukidashi’s talents.  Bondo: Tends to use glue instead of tape, just because it’s cheaper to use his quirk. He has his own mixtures that he uses for each wrapping paper texture, depending on what he has been able to afford. His hobbies as a model-maker has given him the finer motor skills that help him, despite his seemingly chunky hands.  Kamakiri: Kamakiri is good at cutting paper, as his quirk allows him to have a perfectly sharp craft knife, and his mastery on a cutting board is unparalleled. When it comes to wrapping, taping, and decorating? Lost. He isn’t a fan of Christmas paper, so he tends to use plain, dark designs.  Awase: His gifts are a mystery. His quirk allows him to use his quirk to perfectly seal the edges of each fold, which is just plain weird to look at.  Shiozaki: Shiozaki likes wrapping with Nativity scenes during Christmas, but during other times of year, she uses pretty nature designs. Her wrapping is neat but scuffed due to her thorny vines draping over her thorns by accident, so the wrap is marked by tiny holes. She’s also a big fan of eco-friendly paper, from companies that donate the proceeds to various relief missions.  Tsuburaba: Does everything at the last minute- buying the gifts, buying the wrapping paper, buying the cards, writing the cards, doing the wrapping. There’s a messy quality to his gifts, which are barely held together by a few pieces of tape, and usually peeling by the time he gives them to you.  Pony: Pony’s family back in the states love Japanese gift wrap designs. It reminds her father of growing up in Japan, and the rest of her family think it makes her gifts look much more unique. She’ll buy good-quality rolls with some Kanji or hiragana writing in the design, and use that for all her presents. She’s not the most precise wrapper in the world, but she’s good enough. Her gifts tend to have quite chunky folds near the corners and edges.  Shoda: Shoda isn’t keen on wrapping gifts, as he thinks it’s a waste of time. He’s more likely to just hand you something on its own. If he does feel the need to wrap something, he’s eager to find a way to get out of doing it, usually by paying somebody else or selecting the gift-wrap option for online delivery.  Shishida: Shishida is bad at wrapping presents, and it’s a source of great shame for him. His giant pawlike hands and long claws tend to get in the way, causing him to accidentally tear the paper. He recently learned about furoshiki- traditional fabric wrapping- and has been finding it much easier to simply knot a piece of material. Plus, coming from a wealthy family, he has more than enough money to buy beautiful, high-quality silks. Yanagi, Komori, and Kodai in particular look forward to collecting another scarf each year. 

[blubberquark]

Belated Protector Postmortem

I made the game Protector for the 46th Ludum Dare game jam. I did not make a tumblr post about it during the jam. Don’t think Protector is my best jam game, but what can you expect from a jam game? Hardly a glowing endorsement, I know. Download it from itch.io at this link, or don’t.

With some distance, I think it’s interesting to tell you why I don‘t think Protector is that good... or maybe “good” is not the right word. Some friends and other Ludum Dare entrants had encouraged me (privately) to keep working on it after the jam and fix the bugs. In my opinion, Protector is fine the way it is (for a jam game anyway), but any more work on it will be a waste of time. There will be no post-compo releases of Protector.

If you are just getting started making games, Protector could be a good example of when to stop working on a prototype. But first, let’s do the usual “game jam postmortem“ song and dance.

Game Description

In this moody puzzle-ish platformer, you control an invincible character tasked with guiding a small (and very vincible) dog through the level. You cannot control the dog.

Instead you can pick up and throw a bone, but you can’t carry the bone. When you press the bone throwing button a second time, the dog will chase after the bone.

One the dog is running, you cannot stop it. You also cannot call the dog to return to you. You have to clear the path for the dog before you let it loose.

What Went Right

Scope: I scoped Protector aggressively minimal. I remember feeling a bit under the weather on the first day of the jam, so I decided to take it easy and submit something small. I was okay with submitting a small game in the jam category. I just had this idea I wanted to try out.

There is only one level, and it’s not all that big. I submitted on the morning of the third day, with everything I wanted in the game, without losing any sleep, and with some time to spare.

Theme: The idea was my own take on that last level in Bastion, when the kid carries the battering ram, but as an escort mission. The main character was supposed to be some kind of brute or barbarian loosely inspired by the barbarian class in Diablo II. Obviously you keep a dog alive, because that’s the theme of the jam.

Character Designs: I think nailed it with the brute and dog sprites. The brute is big and faceless, and the dog is small and cute. The proportions of the brute convey that he is strong and slow, and his shield (but no sword) should clue you in about his purpose.

Simple Dog Behaviour: The dog runs and bounces around pretty quickly. Once the dog is running, all bets are off, because you are too slow to catch up. You have to set everything up so the dog won’t kill himself, because he’s not a cat with nine lives. He is a dumb dog.

Any kind of AI or pathfinding would have made the dog less predictable, and the main objective of the game is to keep it alive (that was the theme of the jam), so simple, fast, predictable movement was key. The player has to be able to predict the dog’s path before it starts running.

Level Design: The level is not that big. There is a variety of obstacles and set pieces, and these are all easy for the player character to navigate, but potentially lethal to the dog. In addition to multiple platforming challenges, there are two unique “set pieces” that break up the monotony.

There are five different ways for the dog to die, and the level is constructed to make the player experience each of them once. Some are obvious, like the lightning cloud and the tower that shoots arrows, but the level is designed so that every player dies at least once. After mastering an obstacle once, it should pose no challenge on repeat playthroughs.

What Went Wrong

Controls: The controls are very simple, based on only the four arrow keys, X and C. These can be mapped to the left stick and first two buttons of a gamepad. In walk mode, the two buttons jump and call the dog, and the “up” direction is used to raise the shield.

In throw mode, with the left/right axis controls the throwing angle, and the up/down angle controls the velocity. This control scheme feels too cumbersome. The X key is used for calling the dog and throwing the bone, based on context. This also feels cumbersome, but it makes it less likely for players to accidentally throw or call the dog when they want to jump. I still had to resort to putting the controls on the screen at all times.

For gamepad controls it would have made more sense to use the direction of the left stick for the throwing angle and velocity. For keyboard+mouse controls I could have implemented a mouse-based throwing system like in Gunpoint or a parabola indicator that shows where the bone will land. I could also have gone the other way with a Worms style throwing system in which the throwing velocity is proportional to the time the button was held. As is, the throwing uses the same buttons as platforming, but it doesn’t feel good.

Bone Physics: The bone physics was kind of bouncy and floaty. I implemented my own physics because the bone was the only object in the whole game that needs halfway realistic bouncy collisions. The player and the dog use platformer physics, so there was no need for a physics engine like Box2D, libODE, or pymunk. The bone is modelled like a simple spinning ball. I could have made the bone less bouncy to give the player more control, maybe even cheated by making it less bouncy only in the x-direction. I could also have gone in the other direction and modelled the bone as a rectangle or two balls connected by a line.

Dog Platforming: The dog sometimes gets stuck in a wall or on a ledge. This is bad. I could fix this by making the dog fall down or turn around when this happens, but that would make the problem worse. I’d rather have the dog (or the bone) stuck in a weird position until the player gets it out than having it sit inside a pit in an unwinnable position with believable physics.

The way bone physics and platforming work is very janky, but that is because the obvious fix would have unacceptable gameplay consequences.

Main Gameplay Loop: It goes like this: throw bone - move into position - let dog loose - wait for dog - retrieve bone - throw bone - move into position, and so on. There is no way to call the dog back because that would make certain puzzles too easy, no way to set multiple way points for the dog, no way to ask the dog to fetch the bone back to you, and no way to carry the bone - otherwise you could just walk over and drop the bone there.

The gameplay loop as it stands just doesn’t allow that many puzzles, and changes to the gameplay would make the current puzzles too easy. Adding more content is more or less incompatible with the current gameplay, and changes to the gameplay loop would break the existing balance.

Allowing the player to carry the bone, to use different tools than the shield, to call the dog back would destroy the game design.

What I Learned

Escort missions suck. I already knew that hidden complex systems are not fun, but even indirect interaction based on simple systems is hard to get right. Beyond that, I did not try anything new and outlandish. I just had the idea about the big protector and the little dog.

The most surprising thing was how poorly Protector was rated in the “Mood” category given the relatively high theme score. Having no sound really did me no favours, and neither did the GameBoy screen resolution or the 5-colour palette.

But importantly, despite all the gameplay shortcomings, this still works as a short game. If the game is short enough, it can be carried by novelty, and players will forgive janky controls, even if the controls are part of the game’s main difficulty. I relied on this insight in other jam games, but it does not translate to long-form games.

This is a bit meta, but it is important to understand when a game design does not work. To some degree I think game jams even encourage a kind of toxic positivity towards young people learning to program. By all means, you should encourage people who want to try their hand at game design, and you should not go out of your way to disparage teenagers learning to code or programmers who make programmer art because the graphic design in their enterprise software day job is done in a different department. All too often, instead of “keep it up“, we tell people who are getting started to keep working on their jam games. If a game has load of bugs, on some level it would be nice to have them fixed, and these bugs are an obvious starting point for a post-jam version of the game - but when I see buggy games with experimental gameplay ideas, I don’t always encourage the devs to keep tweaking the mechanics until it works. Some experiments have negative results, and that’s okay.

Some jam entries are great games, successful experiments if you will, but they can’t easily be made into longer games. That’s also okay.

Can We Fix This?

“But hypothetically” you ask me, “how would you turn Protector into a longer game if I hired you to be a game designer?”

Okay. Hypothetically. In this hypothetical world, you pay by the hour, no unpaid overtime, and no bonus based on how well the game sells ;-)

We need a story that glues all the levels together, and the dog platforming would be at most a third of the game. Maybe in some levels you and the dog fight side by side, maybe you explore some of the levels with the dog on a leash, maybe you tie the leash to a post at the level entrance and come back when you have cleared everything.

I can’t stress enough how important it is to have through-line that connects different types of gameplay, different set pieces and minigames.

In order to make the platforming and puzzle solving more interesting, you would have a different load-out in different levels. Some platforms are dog-only, and you would throw the bone (or a tennis ball) up there because you can’t reach it yourself. You would need a way to recall the bone (or tennis ball) or a way to recall the dog, maybe a dog whistle. Maybe you just have a limited supply of dog treats per level. Earlier levels just have the bone, and shield, later ones introduce mobility items for the player character, tennis balls, a collar, a leash, dog treats, a dog whistle, and so on.

It would be a fun idea (or a gimmick) to have most of the upgrades be for the dog, but that’s not very fun to actually play.

Another possible problem is if the dog handling becomes an afterthought, or a drag in the player, going back to fetch the dog after the level has been cleared. Escort missions are not held in high regard among players, so this could become a self-fulfilling prophecy.

With all these mobility items and larger levels, we would need an improved dog AI. We also could not have the dog fall into a pit of spikes, instead it should refuse to jump into unsafe distances, and somehow communicate to the player. We would also need a way to get the dog back down if it got up the wrong platform, and a way for the player to reset progress to the last check point or re-fill dog treats without creating an exploitable loophole where the player can just walk back and forth to the vending machine and win a level with infinite dog treats.

Oh no, the dog AI sounds complicated now. Complicated hidden systems are not fun, and training AI-powered animals is not that difficult code-wise, but it is difficult to pull off in a way that is fun and legible to the player. I still remember Black&White. Those animals were a gimmick. Somehow we need a way for the dog to communicate things to the player. Can the dog talk? Is there a bark code? Can the dog smell things?

One thing we absolutely must not do is vary the dog AI between levels. Players will have a really hard time as is, because the smarter the dog gets, the easier it becomes to accidentally mis-predict what it will do.

Think about all the parts of this rather comprehensive proposal: Complex AI, some kind of story, different controls, unlockable items, and level/puzzle design that integrates all of the above, all written from scratch or re-written for the bigger game. I’d rather spend the time on something else.

[doof-doofblog]

"Your Dad!"

Monday 3rd May 2021

I'M BACK!!!!!!!! Hello again folks! I know it's been a super hot minute since I last posted! I've been working all the hours under the sun, but I'm back! I've actually binged watched a whole week's worth of EastEnders in an attempt to catch up - so instead of blogging about a whole week of stuff you've already watched I'm just going to list the main moments that have grabbed my attention:-

Martin and Whitney still grieving for Kush

The fact Kush's body will be transferred to Dubai / Whitney unable to hold a funeral for her fiancé

Isaac opening up to Patrick about his schizophrenia / learning about Paul

Amy trolling Janet online about her modelling

Gray and Whitney's plan to take down the Mitchell's

Isaac thinking he's been mis-diagnosed

Bernadette offering to be Rainie & Stuart's surrogate

Bailey over-hearing Karen & Mitch discussing money issues

Nancy & Tamwar are getting a divorce

Mila's Mum finding her

Ben & Callum's wedding venue going bust / getting married in two weeks time

Nancy choosing to be sterilized because she doesn't want children

Bailey running away!

Wow, a lot of drama and a lot of emotion! But now I've highlighted the main points of the previous week, I'm going to focus on Monday's episode! The first thing I am going to mention is the Taylors. All over the Square they have put up Missing posters of Bailey. The poor family are going out of their minds worrying where the little girl could've gone. Even though the family are searching the Square and further afield, Mitch gets the feeling that the police are starting to point the finger at him when they come knocking and demanding to search both Bailey's room and his own room. Jack tries their best to persuade Mitch and Karen that it's just precaution incase they might've missed anything - but after Keegan's past with the police, its seems that Mitch is starting to feel like the police are blaming him for his daughter's disappearance. One thing that does tip him over the edge though is when Jack asks him to go down to the station to make statement - to simply talk about anything which might've happened at home for Bailey to run away. Even though Mitch mentions that Bailey lost her Mum and her older sister within the space of a year, she's a strong, brave and smart child. But for a split moment, you see a look in Karen's eyes - knowing full well that the family are struggling with money issues at the moment, she thinks that maybe Mitch going to the station would help, but Mitch has none of it!

Later as he storms out of the apartment, both Keegan and Bernie are eager to help search for young Bailey, as well as putting new posters up. It seems that Mitch has informed Keegan about what's been happening at home, as when Keegan suggests that maybe going to the station might help the police in finding Bailey, Mitch raises his voice to his son informing that there's no way he'll be going to the police station. But then, little Amy approaches asking whether there has been any sign of Bailey, to which Mitch responds with negative emotion - claiming that if Bailey had been found, he wouldn't be on the streets handing out flyers. But realising he spoke to Amy in a horrible way, he apologies to the young girl and asks whether she might know anything, whether Bailey was having any trouble at school.

Interestingly, Amy happens to mention that she was getting laughed at by a boy at school because of her shoes, informing Mitch that she had tried to use glue to stick her shoes back together after falling apart. But then she also mentions that there was one lunchtime when Bailey spent it in the toilets crying because she couldn't afford to go the space camp. Thinking that Amy might be mistaken - he claims that Bailey had informed them that it was all expense paid. But Amy confirms that that isn't true, poor Mitch is absolutely devastated to learn that his daughter has lied, also realising that she actually never went to this school event, simply because her parents/guardians couldn't afford for her to go.

For some reason, I personally don't understand why Bailey has run away. She knows she's in a home where she is completely loved, does she feel that maybe her family would be better off without her? Does she feel guilty because she's wanted to do something which her family can't afford? Either way, I hope Bailey will be safe and she comes home soon, and eventually the Taylor's will get back on their feet!

--

The next brief thing I have to mention is Bobby. We haven't seen him for a while, have we? We last saw him going on brief dates and trying to get himself out there to meet new people, but of course under a false name. Is Bobby now maybe thinking he wants to make a go of having a proper serious relationship with someone? Is he now ready to for a long lasting relationship? Even though Kathy questions whether he'll be bringing a plus one to Ben & Callum's wedding, Bobby informs her that he's just going to take it slow with the dating game - keep his options open. But then he interestingly admits he may sign up to Kim's dating agency, The Foxcatcher!

Kathy tries to reassure her Grandson that he doesn't need to join her dating agency, he's a good looking lad who can meet anyone anywhere if he really wanted. However, as Kim is sorting her flyers and her business in the Cafe, Bobby asks whether he's free to take one and asks whether it's worth him giving it a go. Kim tries her best to reassure him that as soon as he's filled all the leaflets in, she'll be able to find him someone who's a perfect match - but she does admit that maybe it would be best if he didn't mention he had been in prison, but in a way tries to remain positive by telling the teenager "It's good to have a bit of mystery!" … Will The Foxcatcher actually work for Bobby? I'm intrigued to see if he does eventually meet someone who'll accept him for who he is, regardless of his past.

--

Meanwhile, in other areas of the Square, Linda is furious after learning that Nancy is wanting to be sterilized after announcing she doesn't want to have children. Linda can't seem to understand why he daughter can't just take contraception like every one else, I guess she kind of fears for her daughter that in a few years time she might change her mind about having children and regret what she's done. As Linda voices her concerns to Mick, she doesn't seem to realise that Nancy is listening to every word she's saying. As Nancy makes herself known, she decides to tell her Mum straight that she has an appointment in two weeks time to be sterilized and there's nothing they can do to stop her, at the end of the day, it's her body and it's her decision - even informing her Mum that the clinic she is going to is a legit clinic and she's not seeing some dodgy doctor off the internet, as she throws a leaflet on the dinner table.

I guess Linda's reaction is understandable, she's worried for her daughter and wants her to do the right thing, however she can't seem to grasp that Nancy simply doesn't want to have children - ever! As Nancy disappears and she's left with Mick, she gushes about how she was looking forward to becoming a Grandparent and spoiling her Grandchildren - but then just because Nancy doesn't want children, doesn't mean she won't ever become a Grandparent! She then decides to plead to Mick to speak to their daughter, considering that Nancy has always been a "Daddy's Girl" - she might listen to what he has to say. Even though Mick agrees to speak to her, he makes to point out that he can't make any promises on her changing her mind, but he also mentions that he wants Linda to promise not to give Nancy any more agro, to which she reluctantly agrees to.

Later as Mick and Nancy are enjoying a drink together, Mick opens up to his daughter, claiming that he wants Nancy and Frankie to get along - even though I personally thought that they were, did you guys feel the same or have I missed something? Of course learning she had a half-sister must've been hard for Nancy, but since she's returned she seems to have been nice to Frankie, even acknowledging that Frankie isn't to blame for what happened to her Dad, technically they are both victims by the same woman. However, as the conversation carries on, he pleads his daughter to give her Mum one last chance. I also do have to admit that I love the fact that Mick mentioned that he's the only male living with a family of female's and, in all honestly he can't be living with all the emotion and hormones flying everywhere - typical man really isn't he?! But to keep the piece Nancy agrees to give her Mum one final chance, however whilst they're having this conversation - back at home, Linda appears to have called up the clinic portraying as Nancy - I have a horrible feeling that Linda is going to do something she really shouldn't! Is she going to jeopardise her relationship with her daughter?! (I know the majority of you have already seen Tuesday's episode, but I'm leaving that for tomorrow!)

--

Finally the last thing I have to mention of course is Ballum! After trying to approach Whitney and try and be the supportive friend, Whitney still wants nothing to do with Callum. In her mind, he is marrying the person who basically killed her fiancé! (Deep down in my stomach I am screaming that she's got it all wrong!) Whitney claims that Callum needs to know who he's marrying and once he knows the truth, will he still go through with the wedding? Recalling about their own wedding, she claims that keeping secrets is the worst thing to do before getting married. Even though Callum tries to stick up for Ben claiming that he knows exactly who he is, it looks as if Whitney's words begin to play on his mind.

Later as Callum returns home, Ben appears to be heading out, eager to find out where he's going Callum questions his fiancé's plans, but the only piece of information that Ben will give him is that he has a meeting. He's not telling him where and not telling him with who, which of course makes Callum speculate even more that perhaps Whitney could be right?!

But unbeknown to Callum, Ben actually has a wonderful surprise in store for his fiancé. Both he and Stuart are seen preparing to meet someone, dressed in their fine clobber Stuart marks Ben 6 out of 10 for his efforts! Ben is looking nervous and it seems that the reason why soon bursts through the door of the cafe. The arrival of Stuart and Callum's Nan - Violet Highway! It made me giggle when she mistook Ben for someone who actually worked at the Cafe, bless poor Stuart had to remind his old Nan that Ben is actually the one marrying Callum. My first impression of Violet is that she seems friendly, very quirky and seems to be open-minded about her Grandson being homosexual, Ben also seems to have made a good impression on his Nan.

But as Ben attempts to surprise his fiancé' by bringing his Nan back home, Callum catches him completely off guard and questions him straight on whether had had anything to do with Kush's death. To be honest the look on Ben's face looks disappointed and completely heartbroken, he's completely stunned that he's even been asked that question. As the silence between them is immense, Violet pops her head around the door, acknowledging her Grandson. Of course, poor Callum realises his horrendous mistake and is absolutely mortified to even speculate that Ben would've been involved in Kush's death. Ben looks across the room at Callum with really hard-hitting disappointed eyes, to be honest, at this moment I really felt sorry for him.

Even though Callum is thrilled to see his Nan, it's clear that the tension between Callum and Ben becomes slightly obvious, as Violet asks whether there's trouble in paradise already. As Stuart realises that Ben and Callum need space, he suggests that he gives his Nan a tour of Walford. At this moment Ben is deeply hurt by Callum's doubts about him. He even reassures Callum that since he's been a part of his life, he has completely changed his ways, and he's gone through so many lengths to prove himself to him, mentioning that he's wanted to have a completely clean slate with him.

But then, as Callum realises that Ben is being truthful, he knows that he's going to have tell him some truths if they're going to get married. I didn't see this coming to be honest but it did have me worried - Callum admits that the slate isn't as clean as Ben might think it is. As Ben looks up in confusion, Callum begins to explain that he lied about being undercover a while back. Ben's face drops as he takes in everything his fiancé' is saying. Callum tries to defend himself claiming that he never had a choice and he only did it to protect Ben, but DI Thompson wasn't target, and in actual fact - it was Phil! The pure look of shock on Ben's face says it all really doesn't it?!

I do feel for Callum, but I do hope that Ben will be able to understand Callum's actions. Will he understand that Callum was in a way being blackmailed to do it? DI Thompson was really the ones out to get them, plus Callum went back on it all, didn't he? He did change his mind! I know guys might've seen it already, but I'm really looking forward to seeing the next episode - will Ballum survive and be able to pull through this?!

So before I end this blog post, I have to mention that EastEnders have announced that Harry Redknapp is going to have a cameo appearance in the soap! I have to be honest, I don't know how I feel about this news, I personally think it's a bit silly, but then again it might be pretty good? It is just for a small cameo role and as far as I know, he will be playing himself - although I've not seen anything mentioned otherwise. His appearance will happen during the European Championships in the summer. How do you guys feel about this celebrity appearance? I'm intrigued to hear your thoughts on this one! Maybe it won't be too bad? I guess we'll have to wait and see!

Thank you all for reading! I am so happy to be back, I'll be back again tomorrow following Tuesday's episode! Enjoy the rest of your evening folks! Love you all xXx

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

And His Name Is Spencer

Characters: Spencer Reid x Reader, minor characters

Word Count: 1,426

Warnings: being overlooked, not feeling good enough, mostly fluff

request: Would you be willing to write a request where the reader is disrespected/devalued by someone important to her (maybe a family member or just someone she looks up to) who clearly doesn't really care about her and Spencer does that thing where he goes into hardcore protective/sarcastic/savage mode?

Summary: Your idol comes to work with the BAU. However, it’s not everything you hoped it would be.

Author’s Note: If you have any requests, please send them in! this is unbeta’d and every mistake is all on me.

Feedback the glue that holds my writing together

Tags at the bottom

Everything must go according to plan. It has to go the way you’ve imagined it going your entire adult career. It wasn’t enough that this had to go perfect, but you were going to meet the agent you’ve looked up to since getting accepted into the BAU--Agent Morris. He was one of the top dogs with such an impressive record. He’s caught more people than anyone else, and he has a knack for finding the missing piece of the puzzle. Sure, your team could do so if they worked together, but this guy could do it alone.

Morris was coming in to help with a case he was on a few years ago. He caught the guy when he worked it, but since he got out of prison, he was back to killing the same exact way. He got caught the first time, so he was probably going to make sure he doesn’t get caught again. It was amazing to work with him, and even your boyfriend was happy that you’re getting this opportunity.

Spencer loved seeing a smile on your face, but he worried you were going too far to make sure this man was happy. Sure, he had his fair share of role models, but he wouldn’t obsess over them.

“Don’t you think you’re worrying a bit too much?” he asked when you placed the perfect stack of files by the door. You had everything organized in there so that Morris wouldn’t get confused or lost about the case even though he previously worked it.

“Don’t you think you are?”

“What?”

“Nothing. No, I don’t think I am. You know how long I’ve waited to meet this guy, Spence.”

“Sure, but it shouldn’t matter what he thinks. You’re a great agent.”

“You’re my boyfriend, you’re supposed to say that,” you grinned, kissing him on his waiting lips.

“I say it because I want to, not because I have to,” he chuckled.

“Still. We better get going if we want to be there before he does.”

“Right behind you,” he called out.

The ride was short considering you were the one who was driving. He didn’t comment this time since he knew you had a lot going on in your mind. When you arrived, you rushed in to see some of your teammates standing around the bullpen.

“Is he here?” you asked eagerly.

“He’s in the briefing room.”

“Shit,” you muttered as you took the stairs two at a time to greet him.

“Is she okay?” Derek asked his best friend.

“She’s just excited to meet him, is all.”

“Yeah, it looks like that,” he chuckled.

The rest of the team walked into the briefing room to see you laying out the files you prepared for the newcomer. He was staring at the screen with pictures of the case he worked with focus and determination.

“Hi, I’m SSA Y/N Y/L/N. I organized the files according to the date of the crimes and cross referenced them with the locations and the weapons used,” you said proudly.

“Yeah, okay,” the older agent muttered.

Your confidence was knocked off a few pegs, but you chalked it up to him being distracted. Spencer watched as you took a seat along with everyone else, and he couldn’t help but notice how the older agent treated you off the bat. He could tell this was either going to go straight to worse or straight to good, and he didn’t think it was the latter.

The meeting got started, and agent Morris presented the case since he was the one who was most familiar with it. As he began talking, you gathered what you did before since he hadn’t had a chance to look at them. When he opened it for discussion, you were the first to speak, and Spencer had to hold back the wide grin that threatened to break through.

“According to the previous case, the last three known locations George Gallant killed were all located three miles around his home which means he is most likely comfortable there. Since getting out of prison, he’ll likely strike out of his comfort zone to throw off the investigation.”

“Unlikely. He’s been in prison this whole time. Don’t you think he wants some kind of comfort? He’s killed two women since being released, and they’ve all been dumped close by the original locations.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” you shook your head dismissively. “I should have been more thorough.”

Spencer watched as Morris went back to talking about the case, and he looked at you to see you shuffling through the case frantically. He didn’t like this new guy at all because he can see what he’s doing to you…

And it’s not even nine am.

“We really need to think about how to play this one. If we lose him, we may lose him forever,” Hotch announced. The unsub was right under your nose, but the team had to play it safe if you wanted to catch him.

“He’s been taking women that look like JJ. I bet if we put some makeup on her to accentuate her cheekbones, we can have her be bait. She jogs through the park with us close by in the bushes until he strikes. Of course, if you’re okay with that,” you addressed JJ.

“Yeah, I’m fine with that.”

“Me, not so much. He’s been known to hide out in his apartment which is where we need to be. We’ll catch him there. I need everyone on this in case he tries to run,” Morris dismissed your idea once more.

You’re beginning to think he doesn’t really care what you’re trying to say. He seems locked in his own mind without any thought about what others might say. The only reason you haven’t said anything to anyone is because he is the lead agent on the case. If it was Derek or Emily treating you this way, you would have definitely not let them get away with it.

However, you have to endure this from Morris. You couldn’t even look at Spencer as you passed by him. He must think you’re an idiot for looking up to this man in the first place.

It turns out your plan would have gotten him before he had a chance to hurt another woman. She was fine but would need to be in the hospital while in recovery. Once Morris realized he wasn’t at his home, he turned it around and made it seem like it was his idea that the unsub was in the park. The woman was alive, but she wouldn’t have been hurt in the first place if he’d just listen to you.

Whatever, you just want to go home. You’re back at the office, getting ready to go home, when Morris came walking out of Hotch’s office. You wanted to say goodbye since that was the polite thing to do. Spencer watched as you walked over to the other agent.

“It was nice to meet you, agent Morris. Thank you for coming out and assisting,” you nodded.

“It was my pleasure Rhonda.”

Spencer had enough of this. Your face just dropped when he called you by the wrong name, and he thought it was time someone slapped some sense into him.

“It’s Y/N,” Spencer glared. “You’ve been a dick to her all day.”

Everyone’s heads turned to the younger agent in shock. Spencer doesn’t normally speak like this, and when he does, it’s serious. Morris looked at him and was ready to say something, but your boyfriend wasn’t done.

“Did you know she stayed up all last night to put together the file just for you? She went nuts trying to impress you this entire case, and you’ve been nothing but rude to her. She’s one of the best agents on this team, and it’s your loss for not seeing that. How self-centered do you need to be to not see that?”

Hotch watched with a smile since he felt it was wrong that Morris was treating you this way as well. It’s what he was talking to him about before you went up to him. Morris just stared at Spencer with wide eyes. He didn’t know what to say to that, but there was no need. Spencer wrapped an arm around your shoulder and escorted you out of the office. You were sad that he treated you this way, but you had a new person to look up to. The love of your life. There was no one better than he.

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[izzy-b-hands]

Your Love Is Important

I haven’t written Skwistok in a good while, but @little-murmaider‘s tag on this post caught my eye and I couldn’t resist. My biggest thanks to her, for getting me back in the groove of the cute Scandinavian metal boys for a moment!!

Warning, this is pretty dang sugary sweet, but it’s what came to mind. I’m a hopeless romantic after all at heart, as well as a metalhead. This is what happens when those two things smash together lol. It’s short, but I’m hoping the sweetness makes up for that!

My love to all who read/like/reblog!

They hadn’t talked for three days. 

Not that it bothered him. Not at all. 

Except, they’d been back from tour for three days, and sure everyone was tired (he certainly was) but Toki rarely just...didn’t talk to him. If he was mad at him, or if Skwisgaar was mad at him and he knew it, or if they were mad at each other over something stupid, there might be a break in talking. 

But nothing had happened. Not that he’d been aware of. 

“So...that ams a cool models trains,” Skwisgaar tried, leaning against the doorway of Toki’s room. He’d nearly brought a rose to hold in his teeth, but thought better of it. After all, if his mouth was preoccupied, it couldn’t be used for kissing Toki, and that wouldn’t do. 

“This ams a plane?” Toki muttered, not taking his eyes off the delicate paint job he was working on. “You knows what a plane looks like.”

“Maybes I needs you to reminds me,” Skwisgaar said, and strode into the room, draping himself over Toki’s bed. “Comes. Tells me abouts hows what ams trains and not trains.” 

Toki didn’t even turn his head. 

“That ams a good color you puts on it.” 

“Yeah. Because that’s what it ams looking like in real life,” Toki replied. Still, not moving a muscle. 

“That...ams real good then. But maybes you makes up a backstory for it.” 

“For the plane?” 

“Yeah,” Skwisgaar replied. “Like how maybe it gets lonelys when no one will talk to it. Maybe it has a boyfriends plane, you know?” 

“Ams not going to glue a dildo to a model again,” Toki said briskly. “Not after the last times.” 

Skwisgaar thought back briefly to it, and how they’d ended up finding the model train with the glued on butt plug in Murderface’s room, then Pickle’s, and then Nathan’s. Finally, they’d given up on getting it back in Toki’s room; rather had decided there was no amount of washing that would make it suitable to be put on display again. 

“No, not thats. Not again,” he agreed. “But, he coulds have a boyfriend plane, whats he talks to, and has a movies night with.” 

Toki’s hand set down the brush. “Yous miss me!” 

“Shuts up, I do not. That would not evers be happening.” 

“We ams dating!” Toki scowled as he turned around in his chair. “You can’ts keeps says that, when we ams dating!” 

Skwisgaar shrugged. “Onlys for three years. That ams nothing.”

Toki sighed, and got up, only to step over and drop heavily onto the bed and Skwisgaar. “You misses me. All because I ams too busy for you? You ams jealous of the models planes and trains and whatever that ams.”

Toki pointed to a particularly misshapen figure on his shelf of finished projects. Murderface had, in a fit of anger, stomped on the package before Toki could even open it, but Toki had insisted on painting what pieces remained and gluing them back together. No one could tell what it was, Toki certainly couldn’t recall what he’d originally ordered, so it remained the only piece of abstract art among his other finished models. It was Skwisgaar’s favorite out of them all. 

“No! I ams just-” 

“Just whats?” Toki asked, resting his head gently on Skwisgaar’s chest as he looked up at him. His eyes were gentle and warm, and he hated how it made tears well up in his own. He just couldn’t get used to someone looking at him with that much love. 

“Shuts up,” Skwisgaar managed before turning his head away to fend off the tears. 

“It’s okay,” Toki said softly. “To bes lonely. Just gots to tells me.”

He felt Toki reach around him to the end table near the bed, using the remote on it to turn on the TV on the opposite wall. A random movie started immediately, left off where they’d paused it before leaving for the tour. 

“I cans leave.” 

“No, you can’ts,” Toki replied cheerfully, adjusting so he was laying half-on and half-beside Skwisgaar, his head tucked into Skwisgaar’s arm, just by his chest. “Ams my pillow now.” 

“That ams it?” 

Toki looked up at him, and he almost regretted spouting off. “No. Ams my boyfriend, and my pillow, and I loves you.” 

He sighed. “This ams so-” 

“Whats? Mushy, lovey-doveys? Deals with it. You like it anyways,” Toki interrupted. “And I do too.” 

“Why ams that, exactly?” 

“Because it ams your love. Och din kärlek är viktig,” Toki’s tongue stumbled just slightly on the Swedish. “Jag vet inte om jag skulle överleva utan den.” 

The tears slipped then, beyond his control. “This amn’ts metal.” 

Toki shrugged. “To somes. I thinks it ams.” 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah. Wes ams choosings to stay togethers, no matter what stupid shit we does or says to each others. We says sorrys, and tries to bes better. It amn’ts always easys. But we loves each others, so we does it. What ams more metal than works like that?” Toki said it easily, the words falling off his tongue like nothing. 

But Skwisgaar could feel their weight even so. “That ams true. Loves ams metal?” 

Toki nodded, and snuggled closer to him, his hand moving to rest over Skwisgaar’s heart. “Yups. There ams the drums, goings fast. Even Pickle can’t drums that fast.” 

He let his other hand move from the bed to grab Toki’s, and held it there on his chest for the rest of the movie, even after Toki had fallen asleep. 

He could be stuck like that for another three days, three months, three years, and he knew he wouldn’t care. He was with Toki, and they had talked, and their love was assured and he had worried for nothing, and he was the happiest he thought he could possibly be. 

He could possibly be happier, once he gave the ring hidden in his room to Toki. But that time would come soon enough, he was sure of it. 

For now, if Valhalla or Heaven or whatever anyone wanted to believe in existed, then this was his version of it.