#and obviously there are non-car examples too!

[blacktailedfawn]

i think something a lot of open world games struggle with is making travel fun, with two main approaches to fixing the issue.

the first is to throw in lots of little events, collectables, and random encounters, serving to distract the player from the fact that travel is boring, and the second is to simply make travel fun and challenging in and of itself.

bethesda rpgs are good examples of the first approach: create a world that's rich and full enough and the player won't notice that they're just holding W. it works fine! until you have to retread a territory, or until you replay the game

i think GTA (or any other open world game with cars) exemplifies the other approach, where the act of driving a car is fun and engaging -- you have to dodge obstacles, maintain speed around corners, plot your route, evade police, etc. all in service of getting to your destination faster.

i think the key difference is that the second approach is skill-based, unlike the first. if you're better at driving, you get to your destination faster, whereas there is no skill involved in walking in a straight line. that means that you get better at the skill as you play, and that obviously feels cool!

[autisticandroids]

some non-exhaustive examples of what i'm talking about:

realistic consequences of alcohol consumption: dean getting the shakes when he hasn't had a drink for too long, sam being sluggish and vulnerable in fights when he's hung over, bobby being somewhat unreliable because he sometimes chooses to drink instead of whatever he's supposed to be doing, sam having to put dean into the don't-choke-on-your-own-vomit pose when he passes out

realistic consequences of injuries: obviously they would still have magic angel healing and other mystical tools at their disposal, but without magical healing, injuries not attended to by cas or other mystical means take time to heal and may permanently weaken a body part, head injuries are potentially life threatening to both our main characters and extras with three lines, cuts and burns scar

realistic domestic chores: obviously this is most applicable in the bunker, where they do laundry, cook dinner, and tidy their rooms, but even in the car-and-motel era, they do things like lug a hot plate with them, go grocery shopping, and lug their duffels to the coin laundry

realistic problems with law enforcement: they occasionally have to not check into a specific motel and haul ass because their fraudulent credit was discovered, getting taken to jail after breaking and entering is a serious threat, they live in constant fear of the car being recognized and have to take pains, real or magical, to keep it hidden, they end up back on the most wanted list every few years

[matan4il]

Update post:

Today is the 180th day of the war. Almost 6 months since the Hamas massacre started this war. And still, when I came across a video clip of TV announcers broadcasting on Oct 7, 2023 and I heard the words, "hundreds of Israelis have been killed" (even as I know that the number was actually greater than that, something that took time to confirm back in October), it still felt like it just happened, like it's still hard to believe it's real, and not a nightmare that we might wake up from any moment now.

A combined terrorist attack (vehicular and then stabbing) took place over night. A 26 years old Arab man drove his car into 4 policemen, injuring them, one initially was in a serious condition. The terrorist then drove on, stopped by another group of police personnel, where he got out of the car and tried stabbing them. He was neutralized.

Obviously, everyone in Israel has heard about the aid workers killed in Gaza. IDK yet how it happened, what the details are, we're all waiting to hear, just like other fair-minded people are (I'm not talking about the anti-Israel crowd, who have made up their minds before the incident even happened, they come pre-programmed with the belief that everything wrong is both Israel's fault and intentional). For now, it looks like a huge, tragic mistake, based on misidentification in the middle of the night (such mistakes sadly happen. The accidental death of 3 Israeli hostages in broad daylight was an example that it does, and other "friendly fire" incidents that have happened to Israeli soldiers are another. That's war, there's tragically no army with zero mistakes on its record). I am SO sorry for the innocent people killed, and their loved ones. I feel for them, for their pain and loss.

That said, how do I know it wasn't intentional? For one thing, because World Central Kitchen is actually one of the few humanitarian aid organizations that tried to help both Palestinians and Israelis. Which is one reason Israel very much wanted WCK to be a major factor in aiding people in Gaza in the long run, not just during the war, and the last thing it would want, is for these workers to be hurt, and for this organization to stop working there. The other thing is that we know an incident like this might provide enough international pressure to force Israel to stop the war, while our hostages are still held in the hands of brutal rapist terrorists, and while Hamas still exists, and threatens more massacres like the one we saw on Oct 7. What logical country would sacrifice the safety of its 9.8 million citizens (and the 8.4 million non-citizens it sees itself as responsible for, too) just in order to kill 7 random people, who were perceived as helping it, and who aren't even a part of the group that supposedly this country is targeting? It's not a logical call to make. Anyone who thinks Israel did this intentionally, is treating the Jewish state as if it's a comic book evil villain. I wonder why. When a humanitarian aid airdrop accidentally killed at least 5 Palestinians, and at least 18 were killed during another, I don't remember that anyone was quick to say it was intentional without so much as an investigation, or that those responsible for it must be stopped, rather than that they must study what went wrong, and continue while taking precautions that it won't happen again.

In Belgium, a home for Holocaust survivors has been vandalized with supposedly pro-Palestinian graffiti, reading "Gaza free" and followed by a swastika. This is pure antisemitism, very thinly veiled.

Here's a reminder that if Hamas is allowed to continue existing, and ruling Gaza as a dictatorship, that's not just a threat to the lives of Israeli and Jews, it's also horrible news for Palestinians. IDF soldiers found in Gaza documents that reveal how Hamas had tortured and brutally executed one of its own commanders back in 2016, based on the accusation that he's gay. Anyone who claims to be pro-Palestinian, but is silent about the human rights abuses that Palestinian suffer at the hands of their own leadership, is not that at all, they're just exploiting the Palestinians to demonize Jews.

This is 22 years old Dor Almog (right) and his best friend, Amit.

Amit invited him to the Nova music festival, but he had to miss most of it due to an exam he had. Dor planned to study, and then join his friend at the end of the party, but he fell asleep, and was woken up by the sirens alerting everyone about the thousands of Hamas rockets fired at Israel at 6:30 in the morning. "That was the last time I saw Amit," Dor said about the moment his best friend left for the party. "We've been friends since the age of zero." Amit went to the party and was murdered by Hamas terrorists. Dor and the rest of Amit's friends decided to get his tattoo on their body, and that at some point they would travel to India, which was his dream that he didn't get to fulfil. Dor fought to be called for reserves duty in Gaza. He's the only soldier who survived the deadliest incident there, in which 21 Israeli young men were killed, the last operation his unit was supposed to be a part of, before being discharged. When the explosion took place, he was in a building that collapsed, he fell two floors, and the building crashed over him. "I smiled, because I thought I was about to die, and be with Amit again. But then I literally saw a light at the end of a tunnel, and started crawling there." He was kept in a coma for 5 days, to help his body cope, and only 2 days after he woke up, was he told the news about what happened to his friends in the unit. "That was the real blow." When asked about being a hero, he said, "I'll be that when I get back on my feet."

May Amit's memory be a blessing.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[chaifootsteps]

Still thinking about Viv's claim that she thinks both sides are in the wrong and it's bugging me enough to do a quick episode run down to see how exactly that claim stacks up. Hopefully quantifying a bit more will help see where we're actually at

Ozzies: Between episodes 6&7 Stolas gets a personality transplant and goes from calling Blitzo his 'impish little plaything' and demeaning him to being head over heels for him, calling him by his name and bowing to him. When the car drives away the camera lingers on Stolas crying, though the episode ends on Blitzo and his emotions so we'll call this one even

Queen Bee: We see Blitzo's emotions in the aftermath in the form of a self-destructive bender, but noticeably what he says to Loona is that he's upset that he'll die alone. He doesn't say anything about being upset about feeling used or mistreated by Stolas (he even says his name along with the others before he throws up)

The Circus: Retcons galore backstory about how Stolas and Blitzo were childhood friends and despite using him for sex all s1, Stolas was apparently really in love with Blitzo the whole time?? It doesn't make a lot of sense but go with it. Episode ends with a song where Stolas not only implies Blitzo was somehow lying to him this whole time (Genius.com contributor suggests Stolas believed Blitzo actually loved him, which seems the obvious interpretation of these lyrics) but also makes him out to be a weak victim. He shows no guilt whatsoever for the part he played in making Blitzo feel degraded and used.

What’s between you and I Just a comfortable lie I’m the fool who believes When you look in my eyes

Seeing Stars: Stolas being framed as badass while he's choking his butler and it not being remotely bad on his part that he continues to sexually accost Blitzo in their first meeting after Ozzie's. Any criticisms Blitzo makes of Stolas (not remembering his own spells) are dismissed by Stolas with nonsensical arguments (it's relevant Blitzo can't remember Moxxie's phone number, apparently?)

Exes and Ohs: Stolas isn't in this episode or mentioned at all

Western Energy: Text message exchange after Ozzie's show Stolas giving a non apology where he doesn't actually address the problem, literally doing a 'I'm sorry if something I said or did upset you'. Episode ends on Stolas alone in the hospital where the viewer should pity him that Blitzo didn't come to visit :(

Unhappy Campers: No Stolas!

Oops: Blitzo dismisses the notion that Stolas cares about him by using examples obviously meant to favor Stolas. He is framed as jaded and unreasonable and Fizz is the obvious voice of reason. The imp who hates royalty is called a supremacist, Blitzo is the in between who dislikes Stolas and Fizz - the one who capes for royalty - is presented as in the right

Full Moon: Blitzo again criticizes Stolas, without getting to mention anything specific from s1. He is framed as going too far and tries to apologize. Stolas acts like the deal was a mutual thing even when admitting it was wrong

By my count that's basically no examples in Blitzo's favor. And I imagine if we counted all the Twitter likes from Viv on posts favoring Blitzo we'd turn up a big goose egg there, too

Careful, now! You laid out all the facts and stated them plainly, and we know that that makes a certain subset of fans angry and scared.

Viv can claim that "they're supposed to both be in the wrong" all she likes, but it doesn't mean a thing if every other word of writing in season 2 suggests the opposite. I guess the real test will come in Apology Tour, when we get to see who's actually doing the apologizing.

[exielimon]

Something wormed it's way into my head like a month ago and guess what? I can't get it out. I now have a modern AU and you have to deal with me giving the boys silly highschool nicknames. For example:

Four, aka The Ant

(613 words ahead)

"wait- you went to Central Hyrule High School too??"

Legend asked from the desk, his station a mess of tools and trinkets and oil he'd clean later.

"Why you surprised? It's a public school" Four answered the question with another question.

"Well, I don't know, you're my superior in mechanics but you were probably my classmate" Legend murmured, nose touching a tiny piece of the car radio he was trying to repair.

"Nah, I'd remember another Link." Four quipped, still under the car he was working with, not even turning his head to speak. "You were there too?"

"Well I was always on competitions and went traveling very often because of that. I thought I was published in the school news?" Leg and murmured, a bit self consciously.

"Oh, sorry, I never actually read those things" Four finally popped his head out from under the car.

"Oh, don't worry, I'd rather you never know" Legend reasured, embarrassment creeping into his cheeks.

Four went back to his work and stayed silent for a couple minutes, then he got out from under the car and opened the hood.

"Can you pass me my backpack? I brought a piece from the store yesterday..." He didn't trail off, he started muttering under his breath while analyzing the insides of the engine like a puzzle to be solved.

Legend saw the backpack at the side of the desk, that wasn't really the safest place, where oil could spill over and stain it, but Legend tried to not do that, so he guessed it was like Four was trusting him. There wasn't much space for keeping things away in a little house workshop either, so it was understandable anyway.

He made to lift the backpack and was immediately surprised by the thing refusing to separate from the ground. However, Legend was strong enough and with a bit more of effort he usually makes, he grabbed the thing and carried it over to Four.

"What do you have in this, rocks? Gods it's heavy"

"A motor actually" Four accepted the pack and, to Legend's secret surprise, lifted it easily with his non dominant hand to open it with the dominant one. "And my tools"

Sure enough, there was a goddess be damned motor in the bag.

"How do you have so much strength and so little height?" Legend blurted out, not really catching himself.

Four burst out laughing and Legend tried to think of that to lessen the warmth at the tips of his ears.

"Well, I've been in this since I have memory. My grandpa taught me, this is his workshop. Actually, people in highschool said I was so little I worked like an ant. It kind of stuck though a couple years."

"Wait really?? I remember hearing that name in the hallways! I laughed a lot, secretly obviously" Legend exclaimed that one shut up you ant! he heard a lot on the hallways was hilarious.

"Oh, yeah it was really funny, friends held it over my head for a while" Four chuckled as he connected the motor. Legend went back to his work with the radio.

After a few more minutes, Legend started laughing.

"You ok?" Four asked, chuckling too because Legend's laugh was a bit contagious.

It took a bit for Legend's giggling to calm down enough to apologize "sorry, sorry, it's just... ant" and he kept giggling.

Four was smiling too, it had been a while since he heard the nickname and he never let anyone but two specific people call him that, but Legend was a good guy, it was fine.

Wow did he really just make a new friend over mechanics and old nicknames?

Thx for reading!

[i-translated]

I want to talk about syllable count in English vs Russian, and I'm going to use "Surface Pressure" as an example because of how fucking horrendous the official Russian translation is, let's go.

So English is a relatively simple language, and a lot of its simplicity is owed to how little various grammarical structures affect the modifications of words.

English nouns aren't gendered and only ever go through a transformation when you add a plural. Car - cars, city - cities, etc. Note that an -s at the end is itself a consonant, and in most cases does not influence the syllable count of the word.

English adjectives don't even have plurals. A fast car - two fast cars. The only modifications occur in comparatives (a fast car - a faster car -the fastest car) or in derrived adverbs (a quick move - to move quickly). All of these add only one syllable most of the time.

Verbs go through the most transformations. I move - I moved - I'm moving, etc. You can pair then with auxilary verbs (I have moved), though again in many cases it doesn't influence the syllable count (I move - 2 syllables, I've moved - still 2 syllables, only a bit more of a mouthful).

Now, there are obviously more complex structures out there, this is just a short sample for comparison. Now let's look at what's going on in Russian.

Nouns in plural typically gain at least one additional syllable. Conpare: cat - cats vs кот - коты. An ы is a vowel. A bitch to rhyme, too.

Nouns have cases. For instance: (this is a) house - дом, 1 syllable; (in the) house - (в) доме, 2 syllables.

Adjectives also have cases, and they match the nouns that they are describing. See: (this is a) big house - большой дом, 3 syllables; (no) big house - (нет) большого дома, 5 syllables.

If you have more than one adjective in a row, all of them have to natch the case of the noun they're describing. See: big pretty house - большой красивый дом, 6 syllables; (no) big pretty house - (нет) большого красивого дома, 9 syllables.

Verbs are even worse. There's no gerund, so every instance of it in English is a separate sentence. For instance: I saw him running - Я видел, как он бежал (lit. I saw how he ran). It's almost always at least two additional syllables, if not more.

Present participles get even longer. I need a separate bullet list just to demonstrate. Compare:

I run (2 syllables) - я бегу (3)

Running (2) - бегущий (3)

Running by (3) - пр��бегающий (5)

(A girl) running by (3) - пробегающая (6)

(To the boy) running by (3) - пробегающему (6)

And these are just the simplest examples. There are English infinitives that turn into whole Russian clauses (I want you to go - я хочу, чтобы ты ушёл). There are simple, everyday use words that are just longer on average, like:

If (1) - если (2)

When (1) - когда (2)

Which (1) - который (3)

This (1) - это (2)

Why (1) - почему (3)

Because (2) or 'cause (1) - потому что (4)

I could go on. Then there's also the fact that Russian is very phonetically consistent, meaning there's little to no phonetic reduction. You can't y'all'd've your way our of a long ass sentence. You have to work with it.

So here's what you end up with.

On one hand there are Russian-to-English translations that are short on syllables and you have to pull them out if your ass to fill up those bars. Not saying there isn't an occasional tight squeeze - Russian too can be concise and punchy in a non-verbose way - but to me the space within the lines seldom feels too cramped. You may phrase something in an unnecessarily complicated way or add a word that wasn't in the original, but as long as you stay humble and remember your role as a translator, you can do the original justice with minimal errors.

On the other hand you have English-to-Russian translations that always - and I do mean always - have too many fucking syllables. This is arguably much worse. One's ass may very well be a bottomless pit to pull words from, but you can't stuff them back in. Those syllables aren't going anywhere. You have a sentence on your hand and you can't cut any of that sentence without losing a part of its meaning.

If you've been following the logic so far, you're probably asking yourself: so what the fuck am I supposed to do with all those leftover syllables? That's a very good question! I ask it every day. It's agony.

Here are a few methods I've learned to utilize.

Sentence-slicing. Sometimes you can't match the lines exactly, so you step on the next oine until you get obe with some breathing room and "catch up". You can't do this too often or for too many lines in a row because the translation starts to "fall behind", but there are times when you can get away with it.

Wordplay! It's pretty hard to pull off in Russian but you totally can, and it feels amazing when you pull it off. Why use two words when you can use one with a double-meaning?

Use thesaurus. And if that don't work? Use more thesaurus.

Sometimes things will get cut. You must accept it. Not every metaphor can be translated. Not every rhyme can be preserved. Some words will have to be changed. This is very important to understand. A good translator must take responsibility for every meaning they twist. They must analyze the material on more levels than just literal and linguistic in order to accurately transfer it into another language with minimal, acceptable losses. I cannot stress enough how hard and how important this is.

Now, let's talk about "Surface Pressure".

The original lyrics were written by Lin-Manuel Miranda, and I don't fucking care what anyone says, this man got bars. It's kind of a trend to poke fun at Hamilton, but In the Heights won a ton of awards, and nobody fucking says the songs in Moana were bad, do they? Point is, I like his lyrics. They're extremely good. Great job, Mr. Miranda.

The Russian translation I'm going to be tearing to shreds today was, from what I could find with tough fucking luck, made by Disney Character Voices International, Inc.. This is only to say a studio approved it. I'm not harping on, like, one little guy. There were corporate decisions made there.

I'm also gonna compare it to my own translation because I just think that it's better. It's not perfect by any means, but then the bar is already pretty damn low.

With all that out if the way, lets read some lines! Out of order because this is my post and I can do what I want. Exhibit A.

"It's pressure like a drip, drip, drip that'll never stop // Pressure that'll tip, tip, tip 'til you just go pop" is a line from the chorus that gets repeated a few times. I likeit because it's cute, evocative, and alliterative - it creates a particular "beat" sound by using frequent consonant repetitions "drip-drip-drip" and "tip-tip-tip".

The original translation gives us: "Давит тебя вниз-вниз-вниз и всё ближе дно, Давит тебя вниз-вниз-вниз, выплыть не дано" - lit. "Pushes you down-down-down and the bottom gets closer // Pushes you down-down-down, it's impossible to surface". It's not the worst offender but the alliteration is gone to fuck, now it's "down-down-down" in both lines and sounds pretty repetitive.

I did it like: "Давление по кап-кап-капле прижало грудь // Тянет тебя вниз, вниз, вниз, не даёт вздохнуть" - lit. "Pressure by drip-drip-drip(drops) pressed your chest // Drags you down-down-down, doesn't let you take a breath". The first line is actually a wordplay, "кап-кап-кап" (kap-kap-kap) is the sound water droplets make, and "давление по капле" or "pressure by drops" is a lowkey classic metaphor for continuous strain on one's nerves. The line also isn't tautologic because it uses two different words for pressure.

I wanted to keep more of the origial meaning but "pop" did not translate. Couldn't imagine what one would say instead. Хоба? That's so rustic.

If you're thinking "it's not too bad" then we'll get there when we get there. Exhibit B.

"Diamonds and platinum, I find 'em, I flatten 'em // I take what I'm handed, I break what's demanded, but-" is one of my favorite lines in the goddamn song. Notice how the first line has a quadruple rhyme? So fucking crisp and juicy. Fuck yeah!

The original translation gives us: "Тверже бриллианта, сильнее Атланта // Я всем помогаю, я строю-ломаю, но-" - lit. "Harder than diamond, stronger than an Atlas // I help everyone, I build and break, but-" and y'all this is so cringe. What's up with "I help everyone"? It's so childish, it doesn't fit the tone of the song at all. All the rhymes in the second line are verb rhymes which is the laziest, most childish, most unoriginal type of rhyme in the entire goddamn language. Seriously. Silver Age poets are turning in their coffins right now. Good fucking heavens "Строю-ломаю" what a Care Bears ass phrasing. Also, Atlas? Really? Go off ig but I think that's just cause they couldn't find another rhyme for diamond and didn't even try for platinum.

I did it like: "Бриллианты и платина - вызов под стать, а мне // Брать что дают и ломать что некстати, но-" - lit. "Diamonds and platinum are a challenge to match (me), I have to // Take what I'm given and break what's not right (what's amiss, what's unneeded, neither here nor there)". So the quadruple rhyme still couldn't be preserved (sorry Mr. Miranda) but I did manage to rhyme platinum, and I kept the "I take what I'm handed" line in a way, which I feel is very important? Like, in the context of the song? It refers to her literally carrying physical items as a part of her work and to her metaphotically "taking" shit from her family that was pressuring her, and it reads both ways in translation too, it's kind of like "be content with what you're given", it's very in-character, I feel like. I did lose rhymes though. Can't be helped, I suppose.

"It's still pretty okay-" EXHIBIT C:

"Pressure like a grip, grip, grip, and it won't let go // Pressure like a tick, tick, tick 'til it's ready to blow" - another line from the chorus, very good alliteration still, very steady rhythm, very evocative, I kiss this song on the mouth if you even care.

The original translation throws at our face: "Давит тебя вниз-вниз-вниз, это нелегко // Давит это, тик-тик-тик, взрыв уже недалеко" - lit. "Pushes you down-down-down, it's not easy // Pushes means tick-tick-tick, the explosion is already near". I fucking hate "it's not easy" for how stupidly blunt it is, I hate that "tick-tick-tick" no longer has as strong of a metaphorical connection, I hate that they repeat "down-down-down" for the third goddamn time, but y'know what? I could forgive all that if they haven't broken the rhythm. Allow me to illustrate.

Slashes are stressed, Us are unstressed, the dash is a skipped beat.

Do you see the extra syllable? Do you see it? I see it. I lose my sleep because of it. This isn't, like, a classic translation liberty. This is legit a mistake. They just said Fuck It, Who Give A Shit. Well, I does. I gives a shit

I did the line like: "Давление как взять-взять-взять и держать в тисках // Давит будто тик-тик-тикает и бабах!" - lit. "Pressure like to grab-grab-grab and hold you in a clamp (a vise? what's it called, the scary construction tool) // Pushes as if tick-tick-ticks and kaboom!" So... Ticking is a verb now! And a bit of a wordplay, too. My line is actually one unstressed syllable short but it doesn't break the rhythm because you can, y'know, stretch the previous syllable. Cause it's a song. And you do that in songs. Also the next beat is the one you skip anyway. God, I sound so arrogant but this is just so much better.

So I actually didn't check the official translation at all when I made mine, but there's a part we did very similarly but the official one is just... Clearly worse? Okay, hear me out. Exhibit D.

"Who am I if I can't carry it all? If I falter..."

The original translation presents: "Кто я, если всё не потяну? И вдруг дрогну..." - lit. "Who am I if I can't carry everything? And suddently falter..."

My version is: "Кто я, если всё не потяну? Если дрогну..." - lit. "Who am I if I can't carry everything? If (I) falter..."

Pretty straight-forward but I'll explain. My issue is with the "If I falter" part.

So. Mine is pretty word-for-word, the official one adds a "suddenly" in there. Why, I don't fucking know, but it's not thematically terrible abd doesn't step on the meaning of the line, so whatever. But.

But! I know y'all can't read cyrillics so let me translit that real quick.

First, my version: Если дрогну - Yésli drógnu

Now the other one: И вдруг дрогну - I vdrúg drógnu

This isn't, like, critical, but if you look at the consonants on the second one, it's just VDRGDRG

I mean, fucking hell, right? I'm a native speaker and it's hard for me to say out loud. Why did they feel like it needed to be there? Why did they not just translate literally this one time where a word-for-word translation would fit perfectly? Who thought this soft gentle fade-out part needed to sound like a steel bolt in a cheese grater? Top fifteen questions that keep me up at night.

We're getting to the really bad ones.

So, the verse repeats the phrase "under the surface" a few times and rhymes on it. Like, a lot. It's very impressive and I love it.

Me, I'm a madman who loves pain and suffering, so I translated it as "сказать открыто" lit. "to tell openly" and then stayed up all night rhyming on Ы.

The official translation, however, hates to use its brain, so it went with "на самом деле" lit. "actually" and then rhymed with fucking. Nouns in the same case. Like some type of kindergarten.

I'm gonna list a bunch of lines that use this bit so I wanted to get that out of the way. Now, exhibit E.

"Under the surface, was Hercules ever like 'Yo, I don't wanna fight Cerberus'?" is a line I like for it's rhyme and dislike for something else I'll tell you in a bit.

The official translation smacks me upside the head with: "На самом деле, а мог ли Геракл сказать: 'Подвиги мне надоели'?" - lit. "Actually, could Heracles say 'I'm tired of (heroic) feats'?" which breaks the rhythm again and follows neither the original nor the music, but is overall okay if you don't count how childish it all sounds.

I did it like: "Сказать открыто Геракл не смог бы, что, мол, этот подвиг претит ему." which is actually a wordplay, so a literal translation would do something like "To tell openly, Heracles couldn't (tell openly) that he's sick of this (heroic) feat".

Note how we call him Heracles, not Hercules. That's cause that's his fucking name in the myth.

He didn't fight Cerberus either, he tamed him.

Also my translation follows the beat of the song, at least. Fucking hell of a line.

Okay, ready for the worst goddamn line ever? Meet exhibit F.

"Under the surface, I'm pretty sure I'm worthless if I can't be of service" is a hella powerful line to me personally.

Let me show you my version first this time, it goes like: "Сказать открыто, невыносимо стыдно, что я непродуктивна" - lit. "To tell the truth, (I am) unbearably ashamed that I am unproductive". It's not the prettiest line but it's solid enough.

The official translation curses my fucking bloodline with: "На самом деле, я каждый день недели стараюсь быть при деле" - lit. "Actually, every day of the week I try to be at work". You don't need to speak Russian to notice that within the span of a line these people actually and with full seriousness rhymed "деле" and "деле".

"Well maybe it's just a different word" no it's not.

It's the same word.

They rhymed on the same word.

I actually wanted to add more but Tumblr glitched and posted instead of saving to drafts. I think it's good like that. We're done here.

[sootyships]

for the different versions of Kelly/Callie: 6 and 10 from the character asks? 👀

Thanks for asking! <3

6. What was the thought process behind their appearance? Did you go mostly for the aesthetic or are there other reasons they look the way they do?

Ooooh, boiii. What I do seem to remember is that I to a degree randomised the appearances of the members of Calamity's team (She originates as a transformers OC!). Calamity got a purple visor and the main colours were off-white and petrol blue. She takes some visual inspo from Ricochet--I mean, really some specific fanart. She has fangy fangs. Also, inspired by a particular fanfic's version of Wildrider, she has a strong Russian accent. -> Russian car -> Button-eye Lada, obviously.

Anyways. So then the human version.

Obviously her parents need to at least originate from Russia or former Soviet countries, what with the accent and everything. There's some Fivel Stewart and a bit of Lydia Graham there, but mostly I just went by vibes. She's pale because vibes, she has curly hair because vibes, she has black-brown eyes because humans can't have purple eyes and I didn't wanna do blue eyes since I find it trite, she has snaggle teeth to approximate fangs, she has glasses as a callback to the visor, she has piercings because vibes. She dresses like a Russian tracksuit meme. I do like to bring in the petrol/teal/turquoise and off-white as callbacks in her non-Cybertronian designs, too.

Merformers. Nuff said. She's based on a Fiji Devil Damsel.

The robot design is the newest one.

It's meant to evoke a couple of things. 1. She was found in the trash. She was pretty thrashed! So there's the leg that's clearly not original, and the arms, and the hand, and loads of the parts are different colours, to imply that everything is a bit cobbled together. The belly plates are original--yellowed--and most of the faded blue parts are original, but for example the torso plate and the one knee are replacements 3D printed from orange plastic and painted to hopefully match.

Her face is faded and there's a scratch on her lip. She's not a new bot. The light is a DBH callback; never, ever blue. Her hair is meant to evoke fiber optics.

And she's meant to look creepy. Creepy grin, tiny pupils. That's something that travels across all of her iterations; she's unsettling.

The 2nd thing her robot design is meant to evoke is danger. Sort of? The damage, the sharp claws, what's all that for? Yeah, she'll sit all cute wearing a wholly unnecessary human cardigan and call Kieran's dad "Dad" but she brings with her calamity.

10. What is their main character arc in the story? Where do they start and how do they develop? Do they get a happy ending or is their story a tragic one?

Calamity's story arcs are generally "learning to be a functional person, somewhat?" type arcs. Also romance. In the mer story, she meets Grace and finds herself motivated to try to be a legitimate member of a mer pod lest she get driven off from their waters. She wants her human! Fine! She'll jump through the stupid hoops to have her! Ugh! In the robot story, she's learning a lot of stuff from scratch, including the concept of having a family and protecting her own people, not because she has to, but because she wants to. For most other versions of Callie having a family and a choice is a given.

From the very beginning, Calamity and Gridlock have been two peas in a pod, with Grace|Gridlock as Calamity's (sometimes questionable) voice of reason and motivator-to-behave-according-to-society's-rules. Calamity by herself does not give a slag.

She always get what she wants, btw. Except in the story concept where Gridlock dies. It's interesting because, despite it all, Calamity would be able to continue on without Gridlock. Gridlock without Calamity? ... The whole Umbracon team would be fragged. Somehow, this mis-clocked loose cannon is the fuel keeping them all going.

[greatwesternway]

Favorite non-engine exhibit at the IRM?

I'mma give you a runner-up too because I'm not sure most people know about it.

Inside some of the cars in Display Yard 5, there is the Railroad China Collection and other assorted ephemera.

There's a number of things in there actually, but they've got a large collection of servingware used on various trains and the first time we were there, we were given a very personalized tour from a guy named Ken. Ken was quite opinionated (and correct) about how train stuff should be displayed and explained to normal people. Suffice to say, he understands the value of the story. We're hoping to see Ken again sometime.

Obviously I'm very about the fluting on the Zephyr servingware (you know we love a cohesive theme), but the Santa Fe dishes are also quite cool and have a great design history to go along with them.

My favorite non-engine exhibit though is the Winton 201 prototype engine.

This is tucked in the back of Barn 9 and is particularly interesting because this is the prototype engine for the one used in the Pioneer Zephyr. Indeed, this one could have been placed in Pioneer if the guys at Winton didn't have the good sense to say no.

This engine (along with a matching twin) was displayed at the Century of Progress in 1933, where Ralph Budd saw them and promptly asked the Winton guys to sell them to him right out of the display.

They declined, for two reasons. 1. These two engines were currently prototypes and being stress tested at that very moment in their display. And 2., the display they were being tested on was powering the General Motors building. So they kinda needed to keep them around for the moment.

Budd settled for waiting for the non-prototype version and a year later, the Pioneer Zephyr and his new Winton engine joined these guys at the Century of Progress for the 1934 season.

So this is a very important piece of Zephyr history.

But the thing that really makes it my favorite non-engine exhibit at the IRM is that it's probably the best example of them getting a little... editorial with their signage.

HOW DID THIS PROTOTYPE END UP AT THE IRM?

Late in 1987, IRM got a call from the GM Warehouse manager in Willow Run, Michigan. This facility stored all of GM's experimental, prototype, and test models. The person at GM indicated he was planning to retire, and his superiors asked him to find appropriate homes for some of GM's stored treasures before he left. Somehow, he had heard of the IRM and wanted to know if we were interested in a steam car? IRM was intrigued and ask for a picture. It turned out to be a 1969 Pontiac with an experimental steam generator under its big hood. IRM said thanks, but it didn't meet our Museum's mission, which embraces steam, electric and diesel railroad equipment. The man never heard past "electric", and he offered us an electric car. Thinking this might be something more aligned with what we do, we asked for a picture. This one turned out to be another late 60's auto with batteries packed under the hood - their first electric hybrid. Again, IRM politely declined, and reiterated the actual scope of our collection. This time he heard "diesel", and offered us an old engine they had sitting around. We said, "YES, we'd love to have it." It was shipped shortly thereafter and arrived in early 1988. It was promptly put on display on the skid it arrived on.

This was truly the diesel that started it all for EMD. That it exists at all, is astounding, and a significant historical treasure hidden in plain view. (the second prototype has never turned up and is apparently lost to history.)

Very "per my last email".

[grainelevator]

I’m so so sorry this is going to be a really long rant but !!!! FUCK !!!! I’ve been desperate for this conversation.

We had a dinner guest very confidently say, word for word, that health is a colonial concept. Queue a chorus of tongue to the top-teeth disapproving *clicks* and the sound of my grandmother decisively putting her fork down. The questions started coming with an underlying tone of absolute distain. “What is health?” “Do you mean the healthcare system?” “Do you see an alternative here?” “Do you know why there isn’t one?” “Are you aware we fight tooth and nail for access to this so-called colonial concept and the system that facilitates it?”

Immediately this white girl is shaking in her boots (I don’t blame her, my grandma is 58, capable of lifting a car, and probably of scalping a dinner guest if the need ever arose). But it became so obviously clear over the course of her attempt to explain that what she meant is “native culture is unhealthy, health is a deviation from and erasure of native culture” which is, uhhhh, bullshit. I feel like so many people (liberal and upper class white women in particular) see a facet of colonial society that isn’t equally represented in minority communities and then interpret it as being a colonial invention as opposed to a colonial privilege. The same goes for “settled dwelling is a colonial concept” no it isn’t, lots of us did that for centuries, it just sucks now because a colonial system got dropped on top of the practice. Saying health, housing, parenting, etc are Colonial Concepts is saying outright that you cannot envision indigenous people as presently or historically capable of upholding those ideals in an equal capacity.

Progressive language does not negate the inherent infantilisation or racism of that belief. Furthermore, treating liberation from the material and social suffering of our condition as a deviation from our culture betrays the fact that you understand it exclusively from the perspective of colonial power and abuse. Thus, native culture (and african american culture) becomes, in the eyes of white liberals, synonymous with what was inflicted upon us as opposed to who we are. How dare we aspire towards health when to do so is a betrayal of our culture? Our culture being traumatisation, grief, victimhood, and above all else, a necessary social technology of both white guilt and white liberal saviourship.

Wow. Do NOT apologize for this! You are a great writer and your arguments are excellent.

I’ve been thinking about these connections a lot too. A very strong example of how consumption impacts health (I can’t believe I actually have to say that) and how these health conditions (including how these problems are managed) affect different groups in different ways are food swamps. Food swamps are areas that have little access to nutritious food, caused by factors such as cost and physical availability. In North America, native people and black people are significantly more likely to live in food swamps. These populations are less valued and seen as expendable.

It is well established that consumption of highly-processed food leads to negative health outcomes. However, the people who follow the rhetoric of positions such as “health is a colonial construct” (It’s not - health exists as a spectrum, and the delineation of healthy and unhealthy may be highly variable. This is not the same thing as non-existence) are also the ones who deny the cause and effect nature of health. This misinformation is especially harmful in places with a high population of people who are already marginalized. No one benefits from the insistence that diet does not influence disease…except for the corporations making people sick.

Food companies are not your friends. Pharmaceutical companies are not your friends. Preventative diseases line their pockets. Your wellbeing and that of others needs to come before their profit.

[hertwood]

Please elaborate on ttpd being a sargewood album 👀

hi thank u so much for caring abt the rot in my brain 💖

ok so. mayhaps i am talking out of my ass here, i havent rly fathomed the whole album yet, and there are songs i associate w/ a variety of ships/fic ideas. BUT more songs fic sargewood than any other ship so. allow me to explain.

this is all speculative to taylor swift’s life so its not #confirmed but allegedly this album is abt leaving long term relationship she felt trapped in (joe), and then rebounding in a short term fling (matty). if we look at these songs through the lens of joe=f1 and matty=indycar, therefore kyle, this is how i fathom these songs in a sargewood way.

OBVIOUSLY this does not work for many of the songs, but for the ones it does it is so compelling. also she broke up with matty anyway and he allegedly SUCKS so i’m only rly considering “early relationship” songs here.

Fresh out the slammer is probably the best example: leaving a relationship and immediately knowing where you’re going next. if logan doesn’t have a future in f1, indycar /is/ the place to go, and kyle is his connection. if he gets dropped, you KNOW kyle is one of the first people he’s calling 

Fresh out the slammer, I know who my first call will be to

NEXT SONG lets talk Florida!!! the original song I claimed as sargewood for obvious reasons!! ofc, its great bc Florida is there home state. But if we can go back to joe and matty for one second (i’m sorry)

In So Long, London, London not only represents the place, but also Joe and their relationship. I did not come up with this, but I saw people on tiktok saying that while joe=london, matty=florida. the entire song is abt being trapped monotony of her old life (london/joe) and escaping to the new exciting florida(matty).

this fits logan just as florida proper—he can always go home and relax to take a break from the stress of f1. BUT if u wanna see it in a sargewood way--they can both escape their stressful racing lives, come back to florida, to EACHOTHER. this song makes me insane abt them fr. I also like to hear “fuck me up, florida” as “fuck me in florida” AND YOU CAN TOO

I need to forget, so take me to Florida I've got some regrets, I'll bury them in Florida What a crash, what a rush, fuck me in Florida

LAST SONG i’m using for this thesis, but i’m not ruling out fathoming more as sargewood through the joe=f1 matty=indy/kyle lens. it’s a long ass album, i’m employed, i can only do so much

BUT LETS TALK FORTNIGHT

this fathoming was key to me liking this song. HOWEVER while the last two can be fathomed as sargewood in general, fortnight fits a specific fic idea i have where i need to explain some lore first.

logirlie historians will know how after the 2020 f3 season, logan was in a sort of a limbo career wise before he got the call from williams and we know where it goes from there. in this time he was testing for indy, thinking his european racing career was basically over.

so the fic idea. kyle & logan have always had a bit of a ~non platonic connection~ but neither has acted on it due to the distance etc etc. but in this short period of time (a fortnight, perhaps 👀), when its looking like logan might be heading to indycar, the dam breaks and they have a short fling that is more serious than either will admit after, when it ends when logan goes back to f3.

The ACTUAL fic would be years later, where logan leaves f1 and goes to indycar in 2025(?). years have passed, and they've stayed friends this whole time so it /should/ be fine, but now that the distance is no longer an issue all those old feelings come bubbling right up to the surface. they could, of course, just communicate and get together easy peasy but that wouldn't be a fun fic would it? of COURSE it'd be messy.

I haven't written anything, it's more of just a nebulous concept rn and idk if it'll ever go anywhere but it is ALL i think abt when listening to fortnight. The florida and car reference in the bridge is just the cherry on top

And for a fortnight there, we were forever (Back in 2020/2021, what we had was real)

Run into you sometimes, ask about the weather (We talk sometimes (2021-2024) like it's normal and nothing happened)

Now you're in my backyard, turned into good neighbors (Now (2025) we see each other all the time and pretend it's all platonic)

I love you, it's ruining my life (My career would be so less complicated if you weren't in it)

Move to Florida, buy the car you want But it won't start up 'til you touch, touch, touch me

[natequarter]

potential flaws of an english spelling reform:

the biggest problem is dialects. not only does english have a shit ton of dialects, it has multiple prestige dialects. this isn't necessarily a problem for reforming inconsistent consonants, but rather for those goddamn vowels

think about all those splits and mergers! mary-marry-merry. trap-bath. strut-foot. etc. you fundamentally cannot reform english without making it either a) dialectical b) wrong for 90%+ of speakers or c) a dysfunctional mess, which is pointless because english is already that

specific sound changes like yod coalescence and rhotic (or tapped) r can pose a big problem as well. even though we don't pronounce r in all dialects, we generally note it down: warm, car, etc. how do you reform spelling for both rhotic and non-rhotic accents? and yod coalescence. nobody ever brings this up, because rhotic r affects american english (and some british accents, though some have different r sounds entirely) and yod coalescence affects british english, and most youtubers making spelling reforms are american in my experience, but many english people don't pronounce, say, due/new/tune like americans do: /j/ comes in so that due is a homophone of jew in british english, which it may not be in american english. if you reform new to be spelt as noo, then that fails to reflect the pronunciation of new as /njuː/. but i digress

frankly, a lot of spelling reforms are just ugly. please stop

some parts of english do currently reflect the etymology of words. it's a lot harder to see the relationship between oblige and obligation if one is spelt eblàij and the other is spelt obligàshen

people really like getting rid of the letter c and using k/q instead. why? what do k and q do that c can't? get rid of the digraph qu, get rid of k, use c to represent /k/ and use s for /s/ and z for /z/. k and q are rubbish letters

bringing back or finding new letters isn't necessarily useful. yeah, sure, you can revive þ, but is there a need? we already have p/b/d, which all look very similar. adding the thorn in is just confusing, and the digraph th doesn't need a reform. it would be cool to differentiate voiceless and voiced dental fricatives, but a) ð is the superior letter, and b) th literally works fine. nobody is complaining about this except conlangers! th, ch, and sh are all valid digraphs; all you need to do to fix them is eliminate tch, make th/ch/sh have consistent sound values (e.g. spell chandelier as shandelier), and the problem is solved

overall, there is often a desire to eliminate or introduce letters perceived as 'useful' or 'useless,' but the letters people want to introduce might be confusing to people who are dyslexic or don't recognise it, or the letter people want to remove is... literally fine, and could easily be solved with an accent or two

nobody ever accounts for stress patterns. english has very inconsistent stress patterns, but we could fix this by sticking an accent over stressed letters like in spanish. let's say circumflexes, because circumflexes are cool. attâck. rêquisite. insîstent. ôrange. refûte. obviously these are random examples, but you can easily clear up the issue of stress in this way

some spellings reflect grammar, not pronunciation. this is a bit like the problem of etymology: we spell the endings -ing and -ed to make them regular. -ed isn't necessarily pronounced as it's spelt; it usually ends up sounding more like a /t/ or a /d/. but we spell it like that to make constructing the past tense easier. of course, you could always reform it to -t or -d. then you could have words like laughd, or screamd. but people don't tend to think about that

people need to be able to learn your system! any orthography which becomes transformed or, god forbid, a different script, is going to be impossible to implement. we have too much literature in our current spelling. it would be expensive and unpopular. any change must be something within our limits

ultimately, i think the only plausible spelling reforms are of english's consonants/stress patterns. vowels are just too variable, but we could probably standardise some of those godforsaken silent consonants, irregular stress patterns, or inconsistently spelt consonants without fracturing england as we know it or just scaring the shit out of our audience. reform isn't impossible. it just isn't operable in the way many people want.

[justanotherblogger]

A World Without Him

Chapter 14

Tang was uncomfortable in the taxi. The sun was barely above the horizon now, and he just felt plain awful from his apparently non-hallucinated “ghost of debatable deals”. He also noticed how Zach gave him nervous glances through the mirror, probably noticing how he had talked to himself and gave a wide variety of meaningless expressions to the empty seat.

The tension, for Tang at least, was so thick he could probably cut it with a butter knife. Zach had tried to make everything less weird; putting on music, rolling down the windows, and making small talk to name a few examples. Nothing really lifted the atmosphere though, leaving Tang to stew as Zach continued on that third option to fill the awkward silence.

“... but yeah, I don't get why her sister would up and leave with a guy she didn't know, right? I would obviously be pissed too if someone I cared about, even if we didn't talk much-” The car hitched up, causing the passengers to jump in their seats.

“OOF! Dang, another pothole. Gotta watch the road Zach… anyways, as I was saying, I don't blame Elsie for freaking out at her sister for what she did-” He had been going on for about half an hour at this point, rambling about some movie by a corporate overlord rat Tang didn't bother remembering the name of. He had been shocked out of his trance by the bump, making him refocus onto his surroundings as he started to hear the driver's talk again.

But as soon as he came out of it, he tried going back into that dull state of mind immediately. He hadn't been paying that much attention in the first place anyway, zoning in and out the entire ride as he tried to get his mind to blank. Zach didn't seem to mind. Tang just didn't like how many thoughts were swirling around his head at the moment.

Then his hands had started to twitch as he tried to zone out, needing something to do as a mindless distraction. He went to the bell around his wrist, examining it closely to see if it was still solid (and how maybe he was just imagining it all of this… a baseless wish).

It seemed to be made of some sort of metal based on the signs of rust inside of it. On a closer look, he saw there were intricate designs carved into the outside, so thin Tang wondered how it was even possible.

The images were mainly shapes; circles, diamonds, and waves were all around the outside. It seemed to have a dark color highlighting the markings, making them noticeable compared to the color of the bell.

He felt it in his hands; it was rough, chipped, and definitely aged from the amount of wear on its sides. He rolled it in his palm, unconsciously tuning back into what Zach was saying.

“... which is the most pointless reveal ever! There was almost no buildup, and nothing we could've seen to clue in that he was a villain! I know they probably wanted a twist villain to finally be impactful and unseen, but some clues in his behavior or what people could say about him with Anne would have been nice to clue in that he's not who he exactly seems!” Zach took a breath, readjusting his mirror, slowing down for a sharp turn, then going back to his rant.

“But noooooo. They had to resort to almost no clues whatsoever because the writing team couldn't think up anything clever or interesting!”

Tang nodded along to what Zach was talking about, even though he didn't understand much of it. He looked back out the window as Zach started to go on about unnecessary sequels, tuning the driver's voice out as he saw the last bit of orange trying to fight off the coming night. Tall pine trees covered the light's effort, gifting the road with long, fading shadows.

He closes his eyes again, letting the white noise lull him into a sense of peace as the bumpy road comforted him. He was actually going. Leaving and going to figure out how to fix himself.

The diminishing light covered the car in a soft golden hue. Zach paused his blabbering as he noticed the movement in the back seat ceased, then looking back and seeing Tang dozing off with his face squished against the window. A look of concern flitted across Zach's face briefly, but he only shook his head before looking back at the empty dirt road.

With the new silence, Zach looked around the back road and found he could see the mountain ranges around them: how they towered in the distance with trees all over until the top, which glistened with pure white snow. Fog had started to appear after Tang went to sleep, refracting the remaining light in all sorts of directions as it obscured the tops of the trees.

Zach didn't pay the thin fog much mind, turning on the headlights and continuing down the dirt road. This part of the Golden South province didn't have many towns or man-made settlements, mainly because of disputes with the unresponsive locals and zoning issues which in turn, let nature take its own course on the place most of the time.

Today, only some original settlements from before these disputes were littered near the middle of the place, making them basically shut out from the outside world except for each other. Zach couldn't remember what the names were as he didn't drive in the area often, but those quaint towns seemed to be doing alright as he’d seen people from those places more often lately. They seemed happy enough.

Zach smiles at the oncoming memory. I hope they’re doing alright. They seemed like a nice family. That girl ran all over the place with that poor man trying to run after her through the grocery aisles. I guess that's where the guy’s gray hairs came from. The old woman next to them kept talking with me until the other two came back and then they had left together. They looked at peace with each other.

He glanced back to Tang’s sleeping form leaning against the taxi window. Zach wondered if Tang had that same type of support, remembering how the guy seemed exhausted, falling over and mumbling stuff to himself. He probably needs that rest.

Looking back to the road, a deer suddenly jumped in front of the taxi, displacing the fog and staring the headlights down-

*SCREEEEEEEEECH*

The driver slammed on the brakes, his heart beating rapidly into his ears as his chest was slammed into his seat belt. The deer just continued to stare into the lights, almost looking Zach Right in the eyes. He quickly honked the horn once, startling the thing as it jumped back into the trees.

Looking to the back seat to check on his passenger, Zach saw how Tang was still fast asleep, just leaning forward onto his seat belt from the sudden stop. He saw the guy was breathing just fine, snoring quietly as he continued to hang over the seat belt. Zach sighed and decided not to do anything with that: now he knew the guy really needed that sleep.

He took a deep breath before continuing down the road, trying to get his heart to stop beating so fast. Zach saw how the fog had thickened quite a bit as he went deeper into the woods, the barest hint of light only creating shadows through the branches.

After he got his bearings, Zach realized he hadn't been on one of these back roads this late at night before. That deer was weird. It was unsettling him, and he started to drive a bit slower. The fog seemed to settle onto the floor, causing the ground to be shrouded in the cloud-like cover.

Only the headlights could help them see where to go now; the road was barely recognizable under the fog and the sun had finally set, leaving the woods in complete darkness. Cell service was basically non-existent out here, which is why he couldn't use any GPS in the first place, relying on his memory. Zach tightened his grip on the steering wheel as an uncomfortable feeling welled in his gut.

Tang only then started to stir as he pushed himself off of the taxi window, wiping the drool off of his mouth and sitting up straight. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, putting them back on a blinking a few times to refocus.

He looks at Zach. “How long was I asleep?” He asked, his voice heavy with exhaustion.

“Just about half an hour. I haven't been out here this late before, and I think all this fog is pretty neat, along with all those deer! If a bit creepy, heh…” Zach awkwardly replied, nervously sweating and avoiding eye contact.

“Uh huh.” Tang said with disinterest, looking back to his wrist and seeing the bell still securely stuck to it. He grimaced at his hand heavily.

A sudden stutter in the car has him snapping his head back up, seeing how the headlights began to flicker through the road, and eventually go out entirely. The inside lights were still on, with the engine running fine; only the headlights had shorted out.

Tang anxiously spoke up. “What just happened?”

Zach looked worried, sweat forming above his brow. “I don't know. This hasn't happened before. I'll get a flashlight and go check it out. You can stay in the car.”

Tang just nodded, a bit tense as Zach unbuckled and reached for the glove box, grabbing a small flashlight and getting out of the car. His steps displaced the thick fog on the floor, making a ghostly trail behind him as he looked at the front of the car.

Shining a flashlight onto the bulbs showed they were shattered; pieces of glass were rattling behind the plastic covers. A cold sweat ran down Zach's neck as he walked back and opened the driver's door, leaning his head in.

“The bulbs are shattered. Can't replace them unless you have any extra light bulbs in that backpack of yours.” He said lightly, trying to make sure Tang wouldn't freak out.

He reacted better than Zach expected. “Heh, just great. Well, these things happen, I guess. Is there anywhere nearby to pick up more; we can't go on without them, right?” Tang asked, wringing his hands together nervously.

Zach nodded. “Yeah, we kind of need them to get through the fog. Moonlight can't get through, so we're stuck here until we can get new bulbs or the fog clears. Now I'm totally gonna be late…” He mumbled. He started moving to get inside, hand on the door handle.

“But yeah, there isn't anywhere modern that close by, but there's one of those remote places past some of the trees that way. I think it was called something starting with a B-”

A shrill scream echoed through the woods as Zach was pulled violently out of the car, leaving the door he was about to close wide open. Tang quickly unbuckled his seat belt, scrambling to duck under the back seats on the floor next to his backpack.

The outside was unnaturally silent as Tang covered his mouth with his hands, trying to quiet down his erratic breathing. He was hunched over trying to hear anything else happening outside. The lights in the car went out after a few seconds, the car shutting off as it left Tang in the dark.

Then long, heavy footsteps sounded from the side of the car. Slow and deliberate, as if whatever was making them was looking for something- trying to find its prey. Tang continued his attempt at silencing his breathing, digging his nails into his cheeks in a panic.

Whatever was out there sniffed the air, growling something deep that shook Tang's resolve. The footsteps trailed off in his ears, almost like they were leaving… He carefully took his hands off of his face, looking up at a nearby window.

Fast steps suddenly bombarded his ears, growing louder as they got closer and closer. He had barely any time to react as something rammed into the side of the car, making it flip towards the wooded area.

He screamed as he was thrown about, his voice burning as it was already raw from before. His head hit the ceiling, then he landed on his right shoulder as he rolled and got thrown onto his back. It flipped again as he got his nose slammed into the side door, and then landed harshly onto his stomach as the car finally came to a stop, causing him to cough violently.

His glasses were hanging off of one ear, with his bag on top of one of his legs. He groaned in pain as he tried to push himself up by his elbows, making it to his knees before the thing ran into the car again, crumbling the two front seats as Tang stared in horror.

OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD, I CAN'T STAY IN HERE THAT MUCH LONGER-

He heard the thing start to back up again, leaving the area in complete, utter silence. Tang knew what would happen next as he scrambled to open his side door that was luckily unblocked from the crash. The door clicked and swung open after a few pulls; Tang quickly tried to run out but his leg got caught onto his backpack strap, making him tumble face first into the floor of fog, grass, and pine needles with his bag still hanging off his foot.

He was just in time too, as almost right after he fell he heard the fast footsteps again, and a deafening crash behind him from what he assumed was the rest of the taxi he was in. All he could hear was ringing in his ears as he grabbed his bag strap and his behind a nearby tree, begging to whoever listened that he wouldn't be found so fast.

He heard the thing's steps slow, stalking the area again presumably looking for him. His breathing was heavy and he felt something drip from his nose but he couldn't really think about those things right now. What is that thing!? Why am I being attacked!? How do I get out of here!? Is Zach okay?! Oh no oh no oh no-

He heard sniffing again, then heavy steps coming towards his hiding place. This stopped his spiraling as the world seemed to stop. The steps got closer as Tang's heart beat faster, trying to break out of his ribcage if he had to guess.

It crushed the dead leaves on the forest floor, walking through the trees loudly, as if to taunt him. Suddenly, he heard the steps grow a bit faster, heading in his direction. He was panicking as the sounds got closer and closer, not knowing what that thing would do if it found him.

He could feel the tremors coming from its direction, and he knew that he didn't have much time left to make a decision. He quickly rubbed his nose, blood now covering his scarf and hand as he saw his blood flow through the crevices of the bell on his wrist-

*Ding*

A small chime rang out, echoing through the trees. The bell started to glow as a huge gust of wind blew around him, picking up the fog and displacing it everywhere creating a smokescreen. Tang could only shield himself with his arms, scared of what was happening.

‘I see you've already gotten yourself into trouble’

Tang's head shot up (getting a bit dizzy in the process). “What the hell…?”

Cian stood in front of him, in all its golden glowing glory, leaning over Tang in a mocking manner. It stared into his eyes.

‘You don't have that much time. I have done what I could, but I can't help you anymore unless I lend you my strength.’ It explained briefly, grabbing Tang’s bell and lifting him up to his feet with ease.

Tang quickly spoke up in defense, shock and fear clearly on his face. “What?! I can't do that! I know that-”

A loud, furious growl interrupted him. It sounded dangerously close, as if it would jump out at him at any moment. He was right, yet again, as the fog suddenly parted. All he could catch were red eyes and black fur before it pounced. Tang dodged, tumbling out of the way as its claws got embedded into the tree he was hiding behind, struggling to get them out.

‘You know you won't make it out of this alive without me.’

Tang shook his head as he got up and started to run. He weaved through trees and fog as he heard a crunch from behind. Out of instinct, he looked back and only paled at what was looking straight back at him.

It stood on two legs. Long black hair cascaded from its head to its back as its red eyes stared Tang down, locking onto him as it flicked the remaining bark out of its claws.

Tang ran faster. His legs felt strained and his ankles felt like they were about to collapse but he had to run. Hide. Do anything to get away from that demon.

Cian just floated with Tang’s vision, hovering in front of him as he ran. ‘Just let me help you. You need to make it back to those friends of yours, right?’

He grunted angrily at Cian as he made it back to the road somehow, running across it, going into the opposite piece of woods and sliding to a stop back against another tree.

Putting a hand on his chest, his legs wobble as he doesn't think he can take anymore running on his ankles. The ringing in his ears hasn't stopped. He doesn't think he'll make it out of here in one piece.

He focussed back into reality as loud steps came closer and closer yet again, making Tang freeze in his hiding spot. The steps thankfully passed behind him, going further away as he slumped down for the moment, resting his legs.

“*cough**cough* Ugh…”

This isn't something from the demon. He quickly looked towards the noise, glancing anxiously past the tree to a nearby one. The fog obscured most of it, but he could see a vaguely human body slumped on a tree a few feet down.

It was Zach. It had to be Zach. Who else could it be? Tang didn't know what to do. Zach could be dead. Should he help? Will that get them both killed…?

He decides to risk it, trying to run over to Zach’s (hopefully) unconscious body. The demon immediately knew what he was doing, locking its eyes onto him and starting to run at full speed towards the open shot. It was faster than before, with Tang stumbling back as it caught up to him in seconds and aimed for his neck.

He raised his arms subconsciously, fortunately only costing him only some skin on a forearm instead of his limb as he fell back. The gash was still deep, though, causing blood to slowly drip through the ripped cloth as he landed on his side into the thick fog.

Tears ran hot down his face. He looked around frantically for a way out before the demon's next strike, seeing how it rolled its shoulders back, as if preparing a final blow before taking slow, heavy steps towards him.

‘You know this won't end well.’

Shut up.

Pure red looked deeply into his eyes as he scrambled backwards.

‘Just agree to my offer. I can help you break this pathetic worm in no time.’

No, no, stop talking.

Its slow steps echoed in the silence, continuing its pursuit even when its prey was already cornered.

‘LISTEN. If you die here, what was the point? In making your bonds, maintaining everything you have, trying to fix yourself?’

I can't change anything…

It started to move faster. A brisk pace as it snarled and dragged its claws through the fog. Agitation started to build in Tang’s gut.

‘You would leave everything behind without showing everyone who you could’ve become from this feeble failure that you insist on dying as.’

His breathing was too shallow. It was coming at him fast. 12 feet, 8 feet, 3 feet-

‘You could have been someone special. They could have DEPENDED on you, had you not selfishly given up. You could finally be someone worth living for.’

“FINE!” Tang screamed, shaking the trees and parting the fog around him.

This seemed to shock the demon out of its reverence, making it step back at the sudden noise and hold its ears in pain. It narrowed its eyes at Tang, who couldn't care less at the moment.

Blood and tears mixed onto Tang's scarf as he continued. “I accept! I will take this fucking deal if that's what you want! Just do whatever you like, because what's the point anyway! I'm a lost cause, MIGHT AS WELL DIE KICKING AND SCREAMING!”

The wind started to pick up as Tang's words became more heated, with the trees bending in all sorts of ways at the force and the fog colliding and becoming some sort of tornado around him, forcing the demon to stumble away further.

Orange light started to build up in the middle, growing brighter and brighter until it became blinding to anyone witnessing it. A beam of orange light shot into the sky, parting any fog, trees, or clouds in its way.

Then the light thinned almost immediately, clearing out the remaining fog as Tang's body fell to its knees. His hair was wild as it blew in the harsh winds whipping through the forest. Both the demon and Tang had regained their composure, Tang standing up tall as the demon went defensive, a sliver of fear in its eyes.

Rolling up his sleeves, Tang ran a hand through his hair, sporting an unnatural grin on his face as his forearm glowed orange in the wound. He laughed, cracking his knuckles before staring the demon down, now dawning pure white eyes.

“Now, let's finally get this started!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tang woke up sitting against a tree. His head was killing him, with his hands feeling like they were thrown into a blender overnight. He rubbed his temples and lazily looked to his side, seeing Zach in a similar position as him, with the crushed taxi in the distance.

Seeing those sprung Tang into action as he stumbled over to Zach, feeling that his pulse and breaths were steady. He did see a big bruise on the guy's back peeking through the shirt, but he couldn't really help with something like that at the moment.

He fell back against the tree in relief, seeing the moon high in the sky as it graced everything in soft shades of gray. Looking back at his hands through his dirty glasses, he saw the knuckles were bloody, with dirt and black blood covering his arms and hands.

He also saw the bell was still on his wrist, maybe it was a part of whatever deal he made… oh no.

He groaned heavily into his hands, remembering that he had made a deal with that pest he's still 15% sure is a hallucination. “Awwgh… just great.” He groaned, crossing his legs and leaning back. He is alive though, and that has to count for something, he guesses.

All he remembers was yelling at Cian, then agreeing panicked to that offer, then… nothing. He decides not to think too much about it, as Cian isn't here, that demon isn't here, and he has an unconscious body to take care of plus find somewhere to crash for the both of them.

He readjusted the backpack on his back before trying to wake Zach up. He yelled, hit, and shook the guy with everything he had. Apparently, that wasn't enough as Zach was still unconscious after all that effort. Sighing internally, Tang decided to lift him onto his shoulder, and start dragging.

As you probably expected, this wore him out. By a lot. He had to take breaks every 2 minutes just to be able to carry the guy again. But he still did so, as he didn't want that demon coming after him again and staying in the same place he was attacked was not good for that sort of thing.

He remembered Zach saying there was a place past a few trees over… that way, he guessed. So, now with direction, Tang began to drag this guy's body through the woods, hopefully going to find some help.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After what felt like hours maneuvering through the forest, getting lost, and then yelling at the sky that Zach was still unconscious, Tang finally found something other than trees and weird deer. It was a billboard next to a small dirt path. The writing was so faded that he couldn't make much out, but anything man-made here was a good sign.

Quickly taking a breath before throwing Zach over his shoulder again, he started going along the dirt trail, hoping to find literally anyone with something to at least wake the driver up.

After a couple of minutes, Tang saw smoke rising in the distance. He immediately brightened, going faster than his usual pace. His face was definitely red with exertion at this point, but he really didn't care as he got closer and closer to the smoke, seeing light through the branches.

When he finally emerged, he saw houses, people, and campfires littered everywhere. He collapsed almost immediately after getting there, with his ankles and upper body strength suffering at the sudden use. He could hear people stand up and crowd around them, but farther than Tang would usually think of crowding. Raising his head, he saw everyone there was at least 6 feet away from him, whispering to each other.

When he tried to sit up after a few seconds, everyone went deathly silent, he only got to his knees when every single person drew a gun on him and Zach, some with lasers even aiming at their heads.

He was shocked at the response, looking around the area trying to make sense of the harsh treatment when he saw a wooden sign behind some of the crowd. A very familiar sign, he might add. it said “Welcome to Bellfield: part of the 4TA!” in a loopy font.

His face dropped immediately, shooting daggers at the sign as fell (slowly, don't wanna get shot here) back onto the floor, trying to erase that stupid sign from memory.

“Of course, it had to be Bellfield…”

Previous | Next | Start

[mai-atsumi]

Introduction/ Requests (Open)

I am Mai, a Jojo and One Piece fanfiction writer, and I'm here to tell you what to expect from my work:  1. Inconsistency- I don't usually have a defined post schedule 

2. I don't specialize in angst, and Im bad at it, but I am much better at writing fluff and smut

3. I have favourite characters, and I write about them more often

✖= Smut

❤= Fluff

★= Angst

☀= Platonic

✓=Family

☎=Sensitive content 

Warnings that apply will be in the beginning notes

Rules: 

When it comes to requesting your favourite character, you have to know what is and isn't okay

NSFW/SMUT: Only characters over 17 can be requested for NSFW. This is because if I were to write explicit content with characters under the age of 17 that would be counted as writing bout' children and I'm not cool with that

➨ Exceptions are kissing and making out for some characters (Characters that are 14 or younger obviously won't be making out with anyone) 

I also write character x character!!!

Things I refuse to write: 

Scat play (You are not 5) 

Pedophilia 

Zoophilia (And I mean a full-on ass animal like a squirrel, that's actually nasty) 

There's probably more, but I don't really want to know more than I already do

Examples of things I can and will write: 

Non-Con/Rape (Depends)

Stalking 

Human Experimentation

Ect.

Things I can do:

One Shots

Head Canons

Short stories

ect

Requests (Open): 

When giving me a request, I would appreciate it if you got specific

As the reader here's what you can request: 

Reader Pronouns: Gender Neutral Pronouns, Feminine Pronounds, Masculine Pronouns. (I do not use Neo or custom pronouns) 

Reader's Gender: Female, Male, TransFem, TransMasc, Gender Neutral/ Non-Binary

You can also ask for a gender-swapped character (Ex: Female Joseph Joestar, Male Nami) 

Relationship: You can request to have a history with your requested character. (Ex: Avdol's girlfriend, Smokey's best friend, Bruno's older sister, Luffy's sister, Smoker's rival, ect) 

Plot: If you have a specific prompt or idea, like the plot or storyline please say so. (Ex: Proscuttio and Pesci go out on a mission with Reader to kill a politician who is hosting a ball and Pesci and Proscuitto fight over who gets to dance with Reader) (Ex. Reader is sick and Lisa Lisa is taking care of her,) (Ex. Ace meets an old crewmember from the spade pirates and falls in love)

Writing style: Poetry, Novel, etc 

Multiple characters

Alternate Timeline/universe: The Twilight thing where everyone is either alpha, beta, or omega, Modern timeline, School Au, Ect. 

Example of a request: 

Cherryberrylady: Heyyy Mai! (>_<) Can you write an Annasui x Reader? Like, I really want it to be like, Annasui is stalking Reader a little, like putting cameras in her house type stalking, and in her car too maybe. and like Reader is going home and Anasui is watching them thru the cameras and Annasui like, watches them masturbate..? and he hears them moaning his name. (づ￣ ³￣)づ  Its okay if you don't want to tho!!! Also maybe end it where Annasui talks to Reader the next day and asks them out. ( ﾟヮﾟ) Also!! when it comes to the reader can you make their pronouns gender-neutral? 

Mai-Atsumi: Of course, and your request was so greatly written- Only the best of the best could've made such a perfect request... Or

Numberoneacecocksucker: Hey Mai, can I ask for a pre-timeskip Ace x reader where the reader is a member of the Whitebeard Pirates as Thatch's younger sister and Thatch doesn't want Ace to go after his sister but Marco also likes reader to? Make sure its Female gender/pronouns please! Mai-Atsumi: Sure thing! Ill get to it right now! Right after I finish my other request!

[transformers-mosaic]

Transformers: Mosaic #376 - "Human Component: Minerva"

Originally posted on May 4th, 2009

Story, Art - Iván Mas Thanks to - Carlos Oliveros

deviantART | Seibertron | TFW2005 | BotTalk

wada sez: Minerva was one of the most dramatic reinventions of a Hasbro toy for the Japanese market, a complete redeco of Nightbeat into a medic’s car. Ignoring later retcons, she was the first ever toy of a female Transformer. Together with Shūta and Cab, she was one of the three schoolkids given a Master-Brace by the Autobots, which allows her to transform into a Headmaster and combine with a Transtector. Chōkon Power is involved somehow. Given that Minerva is a schoolgirl, perhaps you’re wondering why Mas has drawn her Like That. Great question! Mas’s stated justification (per the machine-translated commentary I’ve included below the break, along with some extra art) is that he found the premise of the young teens driving around saving the world too far-fetched, so he’s aged them up a bit. Sure, I guess. If we’re talking in terms of the plot of Masterforce, this strip appears to be set after the fourth episode, “Birth! Headmaster Jrs”, which has the first altercation between the Autobot and Decepticon Headmaster Juniors—but obviously Mas is adapting the story for a new audience so is at liberty to futz with this kind of thing. To paraphase a comment by Mas on deviantART, he justifies the sheer quantity of text in this strip by reminding readers that he’s writing about a story/characters most readers will have zero familiarity with, because he’s “not interested in explaining Starscream’s treachery towards Megatron, or how nice Hot Rod is”! Based?

The idea is simple, I want to introduce the main characters of Masterfroce, which outside Japan, are more or less unknown in many countries, and the series, in terms of potential, seems to me the most profitable and innovative.

Personally I have always wanted to face Transformers in a more serious and adult way, more in line with these times, I think that the younger audience already has its "Animated" and will always have the classic series.

I also think that it would be relatively easy to make Transformers a good comic of say "superheroes or robots" and I mean a comic that both Transformers and non Transformers fans would like. And I think it would be easy to put it at the level of ... maybe some x-men (?!) ( sacrilegeee!!!! ) ( not in terms of sales volume, that's logical, but in essence ).

Another of the "problems" that I feel transformers comics have in general is that at graphic level the robots are indeed very well, but that’s all.... when it comes to drawing backgrounds or humans ........... let's be frank although it annoys us, in the comic world, nobody takes transformers as something serious, it is considered a sub-product ( never better said "SUB" ) to simply sell dolls, of course, so far they have done well.

In the mosaic, first of all I tried to create the same feeling I had with Masterforce when I saw it,

- really, this is transformers ? no robots ! -

So, in none of these mosaics I'm going to introduce anything related to robots, although of course, they are an important or fundamental part of the theme.

But before we talked about giving an adult touch to the theme, and in this aspect, I am more interested in what the "souls" of the robots may think, which in this case is the function that humans do, in order to be able to understand better the metallic beings.

But in this aspect I always give the same example... in "the walking dead" the main thing should be the zombies, however they end up being something secondary... and nobody will deny that the series is more than good.

However in this Mosaic, those of you who know Masterforce will have noticed.... in the series, Minerva was not so grown up.... well, I have done it for coherence, the eighties were another thing, but today, it would be too far-fetched, even within the far-fetched nature of the story, that a girl of 15 years not only drove a car, without being stopped by the police, but also save lives and worlds, with the maturity that presumably entails.

Masterforce is also not a new twist to the same, which would be easy and what every X time is already done, but a new concept, an evolution of robots and characters, far are the already "incarcerated and typical" Prime and Megatron, beings to which I have great respect and appreciation, but I consider that neither the fans of Transformers or any series can live forever of the same characters, even more when they are so well known, in this case,

Wolverine is a good example, nowadays it is very difficult to create something surprisingly good and new with Wolverine and even more without breaking the different continuities.

Or Batman too... to create something that really catches the attention, they have had to kill Bruce Wayne .....

I know that I run the risk that many because people don’t see robots, they won’t be interested interested in the story, but without wanting to seem offensive, that’s your problem, we have been watching Prime and Megatron for 25 years..... and I'm starting to get a little tired, and besides even at the time Masterforce was better than the original G.1 in almost all concepts, in animation, character design, drawing and scripting.

So, I hope that people can discover and enjoy Masterforce and I hope that those who already know it can "open" their mind a little and they will like it, if not... they will always have Prime and Megatron.

[fiannalover]

Public relations

(Content warning: drugging, second person POV)

7 a.m. classes suuuuuuuck.

Trying to ignore your bad life decisions, you focus on just looking around at the people already waiting for class alongside you. No one too fancy, no one who stands up too much.

With one exception.

Fluffy, long black hair, preppy shirt and skirt in low-key, cozy colors. Such a perfect girl next door vibe, it feels unreal. 

And then it becomes unreal in a different way, as she holds a beaker to her face, swirls it around a bit, seems unhappy with it, puts it to the side, grabs a mortar and begins to energetically pestle something in it.

“I’m sorry. What are you doing?”

“Chemistry.” She answers, with the specific tone of voice that carries a hidden ‘obviously’. “I really need to get this done, so I’m prepping some things before the teacher stops by. My name is Medeia, by the way. Since you kindly asked.”

Oh. You never talked to her, but you’re pretty sure you saw her running all over the place through the previous year. She joined a couple semesters after you did, most likely, but already had quite the reputation. “You’re that magician girl.”

“Potion maker, not magician. The distinction is meaningless, but it matters to me.” She stresses, like you know a single thing she is talking about.

At that point, the professor arrives, and she openly leaves it clear she’ll apply full focus to that. Eh, so be it.

—----------

“Why bother with doing that? Isn’t magic bullshit worthless?”

“As I so kindly keep telling you, and you so kindly keep ignoring, it is not magic. Just potions.” She reaffirms. “And I find your ignorance very interesting when, amongst other students, one of our underclassmen is a recently shifted werewolf, just as an immediate example.”

“There is one of those here? Gross. Not like that interests me, so I don’t bother to learn about it.”

The girl’s eyebrow raises inquisitively in response to that. “I’m sorry. What major are you doing again?”

“P.R.”

“Ah. Figures. Don’t worry, I’m sure you'll sell yourself off real quick.” She snarks, before opening her bag, picking a small sachet of some mysterious powder, and letting the substance fall into her water bottle. “You should be careful. Ignorance opens many blind spots. Before long, one of them will make use of your confidence in a way you’ll be lucky to live to regret.”

“Is that a threat?”

“It is a warning.”

“Hum. Perhaps if you try to teach me what I’m mi-”

“I have a girlfriend.” She said, shutting down your move with zero hesitation. Tsk. Boring girl. What was up with that holier-than-thou attitude.

“Of fucking course you do. Well, the faeric shit you seem to like was trouble for my grandma’s time not today. We’re the ones to rule the world nowadays.” She hums while shaking her bottle, leaving it clear she has no interest in the topic. “What are you even doing, anyway? Love potion? Mercury? Magic acid?”

“Lemonade. Non alcoholic. Just water and lemon juice powder.”

You blink. “That’s it?”

“I'm thirsty. The fact I know a thing or two of alchemy does increase my appreciation of it, though. The mundane strengthens the awe of the fantastical, and that inspires the beauty of the former. One way or another, the more you know, the better you see the dangers in both.” She matter of factly answered, taking a sip with joy. “Hum, I should add an extra pinch of sugar next time. Maybe make it from scratch and figure out how to add honey.”

—-------------

Your mouth is salty.

You try to soothe it with some more beer, but it only makes it worse, somehow. Something is wrong. Something is… weird.

You get up from the bar’s table and wobble your way out. The music and cheering feel like howls to your throbbing head, specters hovering around you while you’re unable to make out any distinguishing qualities. Eventually, you’re out on the street, with the cacophony of the party replaced by the all encompassing madness of the moonlight.

The car… I gotta get to my car.

Each step feels heavier and more unstable, as if your blood had turned into pure lead. You turn a corner, then another, unsure of your directions, until you can determine two things.

This street is deserted.

There is someone here.

Your body gives up on sustaining itself, falling to the ground. You probably should be worried about how you felt no pain at all from the impact, but that comes as a relief right now.

… Hrgh… red. 

Looking ever slightly forward, struggling to keep your eyes open as the trail of color goes on, you see someone in front of you. You can't really make any characteristics, but the person's mouth is wide open.

You must be dreaming. No one has teeth that sharp and sparkly white, is all you can think of as it leans towards you.

"Back off!"

A wooden object swings towards the mystery person, and you can't quite make sure if it hit or not. You think you see something thrown in its direction, and before long some girl kneels by your side.

"O- ourse- you." Your ears fail you. You're so sleepy… "Drink- ow."

Something is pressed to your lips, reminding you that it still feels like pure salt is coating your tongue. Unable to resist, you open wide and begin drinking.

It's sweet. So delightfully, amazingly sweet. Somehow, all you felt these last couple minutes of pain fade away, shifting into a pleasant dream.

Yes… you can fall asleep, finally… So thick and syrupy… like honey…

—-------

You wake up the next day on your dorm's couch.

Jerks. They could have at least tossed you on your bed.

You react with confusion over your flatmates' tease about your latest fling, and the fact you think your headache isn't as bad as it should be. Your face feels itchy too. Are those scratch marks and bandaids? What the hell went on-

Reaching for your pocket, you feel something in it which most certainly wasn't there before. Taking it out, you see a paper napkin in which, alongside a phone number, was scribed:

Medeia Camille

Potion Maker and student, here for your needs.

You open your bedside table's drawer and throw the paper in, memories of a night that never happened beating from behind a curtain of wood.

[6knotty6thotty6]

Non-Furry (Normie) Friends

There’s a tweet that’s been circling around that’s caused some interesting discourse. 

Here’s the tweet (along with the sub-tweets due to the character limit):

“Every furry should have at least a couple of boring normie friends to keep themselves grounded in reality tbh. 

Generally speaking, I don’t think it’s wise to surround yourself ONLY with people that exist within your niche. Diverse friends is good, I like my boring friends :)

This was meant to be interpreted as “sometimes hang out with people who like boring stuff like sports and cars”

This doesn’t mean you should try to be friends with conservatives and bigots, thas a completely different discussion

aight i see now. my biggest mistake was using the word "boring". obviously these normie friends should still have common interests you guys share. i mainly meant people who arent all about anthro animals/do not associate with the furry fandom. thats all. muting this now.”

This tweet is a mixed bag for me. Obviously, I don’t blame the writer of this tweet. Character limits make any intelligent discussion borderline impossible without just copying and pasting a twitlonger. Some of the comments though show me that some people just fail to realize why some people joined the fandom in the first place. 

At the risk of sounding cheeky, the answer is most of us joined the fandom BECAUSE we couldn’t make “normie” friends. Here are some reasons why:

1. Some people live in small towns where public transportation and sidewalks either don’t exist or are only available in cities. Gas is more expensive than ever, so driving to see friends isn’t a sustainable option. Befriending co-workers is an option, but certain workspaces are so hostel and competitive, it makes friendships more of a liability. It's even harder if you're a different age, race, gender, sexuality, etc from the majority of your co-workers. This is an example of how even "normies" don't like making friends out of their comfort zone. These are especially true with jobs in Corporate America when bosses will hold promotions over people’s heads and force them to see their co-workers as enemies to gain superiority over. Social spaces that don’t require spending money, in general, are almost nonexistent. So if you’re too poor to afford to hang out at bars, coffee shops, or gyms, then there really aren’t that many good options for adults to just hang out and meet people. There are clubs for adults, but almost of them require money for entry, and again the ability to transport yourself there. Volunteering is also an option, but some people's jobs are so time-consuming and stressful, that people are too exhausted to spend energy anywhere else.

2. Many furries were traumatized by non-furries from being bullied in school. Even now in 2023, kids are still being bullied for being furries. School can be a real social nightmare for children who aren’t considered “normal.” Any iota of difference can be grounds for bullying. I’m sure a lot of people had that one “weird kid” in their school that everyone was told to say away from. I doubt that “weird kid” was gonna grow up to be a social butterfly. Cliques are also a big deal. If you weren't in a clique, you didn't have friends. I didn’t fit into any cliques in my high school. I wasn’t smart enough to hang around the AP kids. I was rejected by several sports teams for not being able to keep up, so hanging out with the sporty kids was out. I was in band, but the teachers discouraged socializing as it was a distraction from practice, and I was too much of a teacher’s pet to disobey the rules. I was also an introvert. People in general don’t have much sympathy for introverts, especially if they’re not neurodivergent. People often tell us “Just stop being shy” or “just walk up and talk to people, it’s not that hard” when we lament how hard it is to make friends. Some real bootstrap mentality and victim-blaming rhetoric. When you add having niche interest, or god forbid interests outside of your assigned race/gender, then it's no wonder many teenagers end up feeling lonely. 

3. On that topic, being disabled and neurodivergent also makes finding nonfurry friends extremely challenging. We sadly still live in an ableist society where the vast majority of people think you can just buy some magic pills that’ll make you feel normal. If people either chose not to do that, or can’t due to lack of money, then they’re seen as selfish/lazy and deserving of being alone. Even though I’m neurotypical, it doesn’t take a genius to do some basic research to see why it’s not easy for neurodivergents people to just “act normal.” Even when neurodivergent try explain themselves, people either don’t listen or still treat them as lesser because they’re “too difficult to deal with.” For neurotypicals, “acting normal” is as second nature as breathing. So meeting other people who can’t do it, causes a lot of judgment and even resentment. "Acting normal" for some people can feel like playing 5d chess with quantum physics. This is the same struggles that cause some people to become hikikomoris. Hikikomoris are seen as losers who are too lazy or selfish to fix themselves. In reality, a lot of them are just mentally ill and/or neurodivergent people whom no one made any effort to understand. Instead of receiving help, they got left behind with nowhere to go but the internet. 

Reminds me of another tweet I saw months before the current one (written by an autistic furry):

“i get so comfortable and caught up in the "normalcy" of my social groups and my every day lifestyle and get violently snapped back to the reality that i am fundamentally Different. trying to have any kind of conversation with a neurotypical feels so very alienating. I spend so much time holed up in my little cave talking to my friends and the comfort of it lulls me into a false sense of "...maybe i am fine and okay? my brain works perfectly and i can function well" but any deviation from that is so disastrous to my self and my routine. It just feels like nothing i do or say is the right thing to do or say. and suddenly they're getting mad at me for things i couldn't anticipate. what am i missing? i apparently missed every single warning sign.”

4. It’s no secret that the vast majority of furries are queer. It’s also no secret how queer folks often get treated in the real world. Especially if people are unlucky enough to be queer in the South. For queer people who grew up away from any major cities in conservative households with no access to any transportation, finding anyone who treats you like a human, let alone a friend, can be a real needle in the haystack situation. I'm aromantic asexual and an AFAB non-binary. I have “normie” friends, but all of them are allosexual cis women because they were the only ones who tolerated me. They were nice, but I had little to nothing in common with them outside of caring about our grades. Sexuality is a big deal in high school due to that being the time when everyone is going through puberty. I never cared about dating. So engaging in “who’s the hottest?” “who’s more marriage material?” or “who are you taking to the prom?” banter was impossible. I had to lie about who I was crushing on so people wouldn’t spread roomers that I was a lesbian. I tried being friends with boys, but cis straight teenage boys don’t exactly treat female-presenting people the best, or at least in a non-sexual way.

5. The furry fandom has a level of communal support that "normies" just don’t really provide. Every day I see so many furries promote their friends on their social media pages to help them pay for debt, medical procedures, or just to keep up with bills. Nonfurries don’t really do that. Not to say people's nonfurries have never helped them. It's just that we sadly live in a very individualistic sociality where we’re encouraged to only look out for ourselves. People may make exceptions for their best friends, but it’s unlikely that a community of nonfurries would donate to a random stranger’s GoFundMed compared to furries, especially outside of the internet. People don't open up their doors for official charity associations, let alone strangers asking for donations. The closest you’ll see nonfurries showing any kind of communal support is a church, even then that type of support is only reserved for Christians. It’s also doubtful that they’d pool their money to help a trans person receive gender-affirming surgery. This goes into a bigger discussion about how the concept of communities doesn’t really exist anymore. We live in a very individualistic society where asking for help is a sign of moral failure or weakness, especially if you’re a man. Neighborhoods, especially in the suburbs, are built so it's easy for people to only look out for wherever lives in their home. Everyone else doesn’t matter, or at the very least is second nature. Unless you’re lucky enough to live in a “safe” neighborhood that hosts community events like house parties and BBQs, most people’s neighbors are basically strangers. This is why suburban housewives are prone to feeling isolated and alone. The furry fandom fulfills that need for community that a lot of people were lacking in their personal lives. 

For clarity, I have absolutely nothing against non-furries, or befriending them. I still try to keep up with my "boring normie" friends by sending birthday shoutouts on social media and mailing them Christmas cards. The harsh truth is I’ll never be as close with them as I was in high school since we’re just too different at this point in our lives. They’re all in separate states, have time-consuming career paths, and as previously stated are all allosexual cis women who are either already married with children or dating. It’s just not possible for me to make friends outside of the fandom, at least in my current state. I’ve moved 8 times throughout my life, so I have no childhood friends. I went to college during the peak of the pandemic and took mostly online classes, so I didn’t make any college friends. I live with my mom and have all solitary hobbies. I’ve also mentioned that I’m introverted, so hanging around people irl physically and mentally exhausts me. 

So with all this in mind, I hope it’s easier to understand why most furries aren’t exactly interested in having “normie” friends. The fandom was originally created as a safe haven for people who were rejected by the outside world and had nowhere to go. This sentiment grew even more with social media where people outside of America were able to find a home. I wasn’t able to socialize with anyone my age or have people to call my best friends until I joined the fandom. Also, it’s not fair to think of all furries as the same. Yes, some furries are extremely infantilized, self-centered, and only speak in “uwu” and “owo.” However, in my personal experience, furries are just normal people who happen to indulge in the same hobby. I have furry friends who are STEM majors, work in music, are married with children, and have vastly different queer experiences. I think the fact that all these vastly different people who never would’ve even spoken to each other in real life are united under the same common interest is kinda beautiful. As the world grows more and more hostile towards, well, anyone who’s not a cis het white middle-class man, people need the communal support of the fandom more than ever. Instead of shaming furries who are “terminally online,” we should instead address the larger issue of why our current society is built in a way that makes certain people heavily rely on online spaces for love and support in the first place. 

If “normies” treated each other with the same unjudgemental kindness and support as furries, then the fandom wouldn’t have been created in the first place.