#and we haven't even gotten to the new game yet!

[sleepyystories]

Hogwarts Legacy

Ominis Gaunt & Sebastian Sallow Modern Day Headcanons

What I imagine the life of the boys is like in modern day, what their interests are, as well as what they would be like in a relationship.

I started playing Hogwarts Legacy and I'm kind of obsessed with Ominis, as someone who has family members who are blind we love representation

I definitely projected on some of his... 😭

I am working on requests but I have been quite busy recently so I'm sorry I haven't gotten to them yet!! Thank you for your requests!! :))

Ominis Gaunt

• Knows a bunch of random fun facts

• Some of those about braille!

• He learnt it quite late since his family never took to teaching him and, although yes he can use magic to read, he also likes the option to use braille to read and write

• Would offer to teach you braille, and often shares fun facts about it or the new things he's learnt

• Your parents love him, even though his family may have their own reputation, they know that the last thing he wants to do is follow in their footsteps

• Collects vinyls.

• He doesn't listen to much music, but there are a few artists that he enjoys and he collects their vinyls.

• He prefers using vinyls to anything digital.

• This goes for books too, he prefers something he can hold to something on a screen. (Although he does listen to audiobooks sometimes as that's the easiest way for him to read if not using magic)

• Definitely that one kid with the pet snake

• Likes to ask everyone what color they think his eyes are and likes to see how they describe it to him (he gets a different answer every time and it's very interesting to him)

• He doesn't have a favorite colour (for obvious reasons) but if he did it would be blue

• Although he's not very good at video games, if you play them, he likes to get involved. Narrate to him what's going on, let him play for a little with your guidance, explain if you're stuck somewhere and he might help you solve the puzzles

• Really good at wordle and crosswords

• Loves old romance, Romeo & Juliet, Pride and Prejudice, Titanic. He's a sucker for a love story

• Loves exactly like the men in these books (actually I've only seen a couple, so only the good ones 😭)

• His nicknames for you: My love, Darling, Honey, Angel

• I feel like his parents would've been the type to make him learn to play an instrument, and piano seems very him

• Although (and huge projection here) (this is why it's his last one) I think his blindness is like my grandmother's where he can see light and shadow but everything is just very blurry (kind of like if you wear glasses and they steam up and you can kinda see but also you very much can't), so he can make out shapes and knows if he's going to bump into something, but he can't really make anything out, hence using magic to aid him, so I'm not sure if he would be able to tell the difference with colour or not (my grandmother struggles even though she has some sight) (To add to this he has very bad peripheral vision)

Sebastian Sallow

• He can sing and was a part of a local choir or the Hogwarts choir for a short period. He acts embarrassed if anyone asks about it, or if anyone catches him singing, but he's actually really good!

• He has a playlist dedicated to you, it's either his own music that reminds him of you, or music you both like

• Genuinely likes Buddy Holly by Wheezer (I'm projecting, we will vibe together.)

• His household keeps chickens. He's that one friend who owns chickens. (Anyone else always had that one friend in a group who owns chickens or is that just a me experience?)

• Does not read. "Hey Seb, have you read this book?' no he has not. Do not ask him when the last time he read a book was, you will not like the answer. (Unless it was a school textbook because somehow his grades are still amazing)

• He kinda just listens to anything, like he doesn't have a specific music taste, if he likes a song/artist then he likes them 🤷 (projecting)

• Has a 3 week Minecraft phase at least once a year, he always makes servers but they always die out for some reason

• Speaking of he was 100% a Minecraft kid and 100% had one of those creeper hoodies that zipped up all the way

• Was really good at math and was known as the math kid in his primary school but that kinda faded out when he started at Hogwarts and now he can solve equations really quickly but he doesn't think it's a big deal

• His favorite colour is green or orange

• He may be a bit boisterous, but he is such a gentleman. Before you were dating he was so respectful (and he still is!) and it's not just to you. Before his mother passed she always taught him how to treat women right, and that never faded

• His nicknames for you: Pretty girl, Princess, Love, Beautiful

• I feel like he would learn to play drums

• Although he has big ambitions he always comes to you for advice (or if you don't like giving advice he just sort of tells you what he's gonna do)

• And if you ever tell him he's about to do something really stupid (as in dangerous) he wouldn't hesitate to take your advice because he trusts you

• He was actually really nervous to meet your parents for the first time, but after a few visits he really warmed up to them and now it's like he was always a part of the family

• Type of boyfriend to let you sit between his legs and let you play his game with his hands over yours on his controller

• Was semi-popular on musical.ly ... I'm sorry, but tell me he does not give that vibe /hj

---

Sorry if this isn't the best, as I said I've been so busy recently and wanted to get something out. These aren't all of the headcanons I have but I hope you enjoy them :) Also, sorry about how much I projected on some of them ���😭

- Sleepy

[comicaurora]

If you were a sci-fi writer, how would you solve the Fermi paradox? That being the discrepancy between evidence for alien life, versus the likelihood of their existence? (basically. If alien so likely, why we not see?) The Dead Space series has an amazing cosmic horror solution, but i'm curious what you're brain could come up with!

There's a lot of possibilities, some more interesting than others.

The speed of light and the distance between inhabited stars makes it prohibitively slow to detect, make contact with, or reach any star with alien life. It doesn't matter if we're not alone, our corner of Space Reachable Within A Human Lifetime is so comparatively small that we may as well be. We're all blindly wandering through an infinite desert, calling into the void. Space exploration is a long game, and on that timescale, even whole civilizations blink out very quickly. If we manage to catch a signal and follow it, we might find nothing on the other end but ruins - or an asteroid field where a planet's orbit used to be.

The universe is too young for us to find anyone else out there. We're the first. How will we shape the galaxy to make life better for those who come after us?

The life that formed on Earth is terrifyingly invasive. The atmosphere and ocean is choked with monocellular life, and its surface is coated with a mass of multicellular organisms finding new ways to devour one another. Even extinction events don't keep down the biomass for long. If life on other planets looks anything like us, the problem isn't going to be detecting it. It'll have gotten everywhere. The problem is going to be not immediately getting colonized and eaten alive by it. And if life on other planets DOESN'T look like us, our whole planet is probably a class 1 biohazard and contamination risk. Multicellular earth organisms contain microcosmic ecosystems that proliferate explosively when they die. If anything inside them can find ANYTHING to eat, it's over.

Life evolves frequently, but always in oceans. It is extremely rare for any alien life to leave that ocean and adapt to life on land. Without this step, the jump to space exploration - even space contemplation - becomes infinitely more unlikely.

Monocellular life is seeded on planets from an outside source and allowed to self-cultivate and grow until the biomass reaches a certain volume. Then the farmers return to harvest it.

There is not a single other species on our entire planet that humans can actually reliably communicate with. It takes tremendous amounts of training to make an animal capable of recognizing even a handful of words, and very few of them can use them. Humans can't even communicate with other humans with 100% clarity, even if they're using the same language. When we find alien life, if we even recognize it as anything resembling life as we know it, we have absolutely no way of communicating.

Space colonialism has been disallowed by the space geneva conventions due to massive past tragedies, parasitic exploitation of worlds and senseless loss of life. Human expeditionary efforts are being watched warily through targeting sights.

We've known about radio communication for less than 200 years. We haven't yet figured out the medium through which all advanced civilizations communicate.

Alien life exists in abundance, but the vast majority of it is extremely tiny. We wouldn't spot an anthill on a satellite photo, and none of their ships are large enough to survive passage through our atmosphere.

Earth's oxygen atmosphere is an anomaly, and our first and most enduring extinction event. The explosive proloferation of cyanobacteria and their oxygen photosynthesis irreparably altered the planet's prebiotic atmosphere and wiped out everything that couldn't handle the sudden massive increase in a highly reactive and flammable gas. Earth is considered highly toxic and unstable, though recently detected increases in methane and CO2 might signal that nature is finally beginning to heal.

[creweemmaeec11]

Just a Sense

This is my secret santa snippet I wrote for @chaoticgoodthief. Their Prompt was:  "how about the joke villain going ballistic when someone hurts their designated hero?"

I really hope you like it!!!

"Alright, party's over," Hero's voice echoed through the empty halls of the museum.

Villain didn't bother turning around immediately, continuing to admire the painting they were looking at before casually turning to face their guest, "I'd have to disagree," They mused, hopping down from the ledge, "Now that you're here, the party can finally start,"

The Hero grinned, pulling their dagger out and twirling it between their fingers, "Alright, if you're looking for a dance partner-"

"Awe, come on!" The criminal interrupted, "We haven't even gotten to enjoy the museum yet!" they twirled with their arms out to gesture to everything around them, "We have the place to ourselves tonight! We can even go past the guard ropes, don't worry, I won't tell,"

The Hero raised an amused eyebrow, "You don't think I have better things to do?"

The Villain shot them a cheshire, all too knowing smile, "I think we both know you do, and we both know that's exactly why you're here in the first place,"

It was a distraction, for both of them. A game of cat and mouse that repeated like clockwork, comforting in its predictability. They were both safe here, in a weird way. They knew each other, knew the stakes, knew it wasn't actually a fight to the death, that no matter what, Villain would slip away at the end of the night, so they could do it all over again.

The Hero blushed, but rolled their eyes, failing to keep the slight smile off their face, "Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night,"

"Put that butter knife away; we both know you're not actually going to stab me with it,"

"Oh yeah? I do have an actual job to do here, you know?" The Hero countered, crossing their arms.

"Oh my god, are you two done flirting yet?" A new voice cut in mockingly,  as a figure came out from behind one of the museum's pillar supports.

"Supervillain?!" both parties cried in unison.

Hero instinctively reached for their communicator, but Supervillain flicked a hand. The device shot out of Hero's grasp, shattering against the far wall.

"Now, now," Supervillain drawled, their voice cool and condescending, almost like disciplining a misbehaving child, "Calling for backup would ruin the whole point of me going through the effort of getting you alone, wouldn't it?"

"Supervillain, what are you doing here?" Villain asked, a cautious edge creeping into their usually carefree tone.

Supervillain glanced over to them, surprise flashing in their eyes, like they were shocked the Villain had even dared to speak to them.

"Leave." They commanded, "This doesn't concern you anymore," turning back toward the Hero, who was slowly backing away.

Villain saw the Hero glance at them, the fear, the silent plea for help in their eyes. They clenched their fists at their sides.

"Back off, I was here first,"

The Supervillain spun around at that, eyebrows fully raised, shock morphing into an almost... impressed expression.

"Oh, you're cute," they replied, lips curling into a smirk. "I don't believe we've met face to face, have we? Small fries don't usually cause much of a blip on my radar I'm afraid. But don't worry, tonight I'm actually doing you a favour,"

"A favour?" The Villain replied skeptically, narrowing their eyes.

"Well, I'm about to take this little nuisance behind us out of the way for you-"

Suddenly, the Hero behind them made a dash for it, but it was no use, as they were immediately flung backwards, crashing through a wall and an expensive painting along with it.

"Seriously, Hero? Running? You should know better by now."

"Get away from them!" Villain shot back, running toward the Hero who was struggling in the rubble.

"All right, your entertainment value has expired. I needed them without their backup, which they never need with you. You've served your purpose, now get out of my way," the Supervillain gestured at the Villain, as if to send them flying, but to their surprise, nothing happened, "what-"

Suddenly the Supervillain's world seemed to be spinning, running laps around their skull as they could no longer tell up from down. It was like vertigo from all directions at once. It was only then the horrifying realization hit them that their vision was fading.

"What the hell are you-!"

"Sensory manipulation," Villain said calmly, striding toward them, watching as the Supervillain came crashing down to the floor. "A little something I haven't had to use in a long time."

"You insolent little-!"

"Sense of sight, balance, motion... kind of hard to function when they suddenly get thrown into a blender huh? Proprioception really is a wonderful thing."

Supervillain was very quickly beginning to feel sick.

"Certain senses are more fun than others..." the Villain mused, crouching down next to them, "Nociception... the sense of pain... for example"

A gut-wrenching, blood-curdling, animalistic scream suddenly erupted from the Supervillain on the floor.

The pain only lasted for a second, but that was one second too long.

They were flailing, trying desperately to get away, to get a sense of anything. They couldn't tell where they were. Were they on the ground? Were they stuck to the ceiling? Were they floating in water? Even worse, they felt like they were losing a sense of not only where they were, but what and even who they were.

Supervillain didn't even realize they were shaking. They could feel panic flooding their system.

"Interoception is probably my favourite, though," Villain mused, their voice almost playful. "The sense of internal body states. Hunger, thirst.... panic... fear...." The Villain mused, tilting their head in thought, "How high do you think your heart rate can get before it gives out? Shall we find out?"

The Supervillain tried to speak, they really did, but it felt like the couldn't get enough oxygen into their lungs. They couldn't- hyperventilating- their body was-

It was like their body couldn't tell how fast their heart was already beating, yet it felt in desperate need to beat faster.

Then, like a sudden plunge into icy water, everything in their body seemed to balance. Their head was spinning, but they could see their vision beginning to come back. They could make out a blurry figure standing above them that was starting to move away.

"If I ever see you anywhere close to my hero again, I'll get the answer to my question," they warned as they went back over to the Hero in question.

There was a flash behind them, and the Supervillain vanished as they crouched down, "Are you okay?"

"What-.... what the hell was-..."

"Where does it hurt?" the Villain asked instead.

"Everywhere?" The hero huffed, dropping their head to the marble floor below.

The Villain closed their eyes for a moment, and suddenly, the hero could feel the pain melting away.

"Better?"

"How the hell did you-"

"Let's just say I always go easy on my favourite hero," they stood up, extending a hand down to the Hero, "Come on, I'll stop the heist if I get to take you out to dinner, on me,"

"Only if it comes with a side of explanations." The Hero rebuked.

"Deal,"

With that, the Villain helped the hero to their feet. They may have had a lot of explaining to do. But they also had a steak to order, and they had their priorities in order.

[gatheredfates]

Playerscope, modding and the hunt for aesthetic: why you should be more upset about mods and community expectations than you already are.

I love that this sounds like an academic paper but HONESTLYYYY. I need to put my thoughts to paper in regards to my burnout with xiv, otherwise I think I'll go insane. This is a controversial yet brave post. I am well aware that I partake in some of the things I'm going to be critiquing; aka, "thank you, dinklebottom, we live in a society." I'm also not critiquing mods from a space of offering more accessibility to people and/or facilitating representation not currently offered within the context of the game. There is nuance to every discussion and I'm coming at this from an overarching view around mods and community expectations/standards rather than player joy. I hope this makes sense. I'm also predominately writing from a roleplay perspective, though I'm sure a lot of what I end up saying can reflect in the art party/social space. Just know if I haven't mentioned the latter it's because that's not my scene and I don't pretend to know otherwise.

Anyway. For those who don't know, there's a new mod that's causing some strife in the xiv community called Playerscope. Here is the reddit thread about it. I'm not going to be talking too much about the mod in general because that's not the point of this post, but seeing discussion around it today just made me feel more exhausted than I already am when it comes to modding and the xiv community around it. It made me realise... I'm actually really sick to death of mods. I'm sick to death of what they're doing to the community when it comes to gatekeeping, policing and in general the interactions we have with each other in the community.

Let me explain: I wrote a post about the roleplay mod on bsky that kind of articulates at a surface level what I mean.

I think what makes me sad, which I'm sure is echoed by a lot of people, is that mods feel like the standard now rather than an option and that there's a certain expectation for people to have them if they want to engage with facets of the community—whether intentional or not.

Unlike XIV, WoW has a supported mod scene (within reason) and TRP 2 and the like have been accepted for years now. In a space where people can't slap on an RP tag, having that tool readily identifies you as a writer/roleplayer and you can include as much or as little of your character as you like. The general idea is if you have one of these tools enabled, you're a roleplayer to some capacity. You can dress up the profile to a certain degree, you can add links and supported pictures, but you're mostly reliant on what you put to paper in regards to your character. Even then, I find filling out what my character is doing currently and marking the rest as a WIP doesn't necessarily exclude me from roleplay if I want to find it. A lot of people will do that and a super simple description to incite interest around their oc.

These days in XIV... I don't know. I do think communities have gotten more insular—it's why I'm so pedantic about trying to find them for the Compendium—but I also think mods and, to a certain extent, the 'nightclub' scene have gotten in the way of it as well. My argument is such.

I want to go to an event (for example sake, I'll call it Seascape). In order to fully participate, I may need:

Their discord.

A roleplay addon.

A carrd/google site/etc.

Their synchshell (including mods, mare and everything else)

Potentially a mod of some description so people know I can see theirs (and vice versa).

Also that your mod isn't made by a shitty person.

Appropriate understanding of the scene/social space.

Some luck and a prayer that it's an inclusive space and not a closed rp group advertising as being open and/or a mod showcase advertising itself as something different.

Like??? Holy shit you guys. If you are someone who doesn't want to mod because you're worried about repercussions it really just feels like a big 'fuck you, good luck'.

And let me be clear, not every community is like this. I'm incredibly lucky to have found fantastic roleplay within my own rp event/community, I have great friends who run awesome, inclusive events for people of any skill (writing or otherwise) and I do fully believe you can just enable the rp tag and find fun, fulfilling roleplay. But I've also found the above a lot of times, too. I've had people point-blank get mad at my partner because he won't install mods and try to exclude and/or circumvent him in spaces. It's weird. I've been to events where the only time I felt like I got proper interaction(s) was when I joined the aforementioned, even if I have my character's profile linked in my about. It's weird.

Honestly, no wonder new roleplayers feel overwhelmed. Not only do they have to learn roleplay etiquette, they have to be a mod expert overnight? It feels less about what someone can bring to the table as far as a story but what mods they can install to either look cool or pass an unspoken social barrier. As much as I'm down bad for aesthetic and looking the part, I hate it being at the cost of accessibility and fun for someone else.

Arguably it's the same for gposing and the like as well, which contributes to my exhaustion alongside all the graphical changes and I just. I'm gnawing at the bars of my cage.

I don't think it's going to change and arguably it's more of a Twitter/X issue than a Tumblr, one but Tumblr lets me write mini essays and Twitter will tell me to kms.

Ergo, I'll go with the essay-writing platform.

Anyway, I guess this is just a reminder that you don't need 4596419651 mods to be in the community and that people should be more vigilant on including people who don't have them for whatever reason, provided they operate in good-faith and want to contribute. I think we're careening to a slippery slope of expectation for something unsupported and I don't like it.

[genericpuff]

holy crap okay so

I'm two episodes into Kaos

normally I keep my expectations pretty minimal because, let's be real, the Internet - and especially Tumblr - has a tendency to severely overhype new series to be way better than they actually are and it often leaves me sitting there like "that's it? that's what people were freaking out over for weeks?? that was just a bunch of cheap ships and tropes that i've seen 123785902380 times before" LMAO

BUT thankfully compared to other series like Hazbin Hotel and The Amazing Digital Circus, I haven't been worn out on excessive fandom exposure prior to watching Kaos, so I didn't really know what to expect going in besides what folks have told me so far - it's a modern-day Greek epic, and it stars Jeff Goldblum as Zeus (which is, unsurprisingly, peak casting).

That said, I'm very pleased to say that so far, the show is absolutely blowing me away. The set designs, characterizations, weaving of all the players into a central narrative led by a very coy narrator, all of it feels both refreshing and respectful to the source material at the same time.

so uh yeah that LO animated TV show... we have reason to believe now that it's gotten picked up by Amazon Prime, at least according to the showrunner's LinkedIn and posting history from February of this year that seems to imply LO may have been picked up by Amazon-

(but still, nothing's really been confirmed because they're being so tight-lipped about this you'd almost think it's because there isn't a show happening at all cough)

But even then, that means at best we still won't see anything of the LO TV show adaption for another 2-3 years, depending on how production goes.

Why am I talking about LO right now? Well it should be obvious - Kaos double-whammied LO by beating it to the punch at its own game.

I mean, just look at the creative choices alone in the design of the Underworld and its rulers, our beloved Hades and Persephone.

And yes, the entire Underworld is color-graded like this, something so simple and yet effective in communicating the nature of the Underworld and what it stands for - a place where the past lives on through the dead, paused in time, devoid of the vibrant color grading found in Olympus - or "Olympia" as its been named in this retelling - which is, by the way, a visual treat to take in every time it's featured.

(and yes, that is S-tier-companion Billie Piper on the left, but I will not tell you who she's playing, you actually really should go into this show as blind as possible for the thrill of figuring out these characters as they're introduced <3)

That's not even getting into the narrative structure of the plot itself or the phenomenal casting and acting, but again, I don't want to spoil too much as the show is quite new, and I want to actually finish watching the show myself before I get more into the details of its story and how it delivers it (I'm very much hoping I will still be singing this show's praises at the end of its 8 episodes, please for the love of god don't jump the shark, I don't think my heart can take that kind of pain again.)

All that's to say though, Kaos is, so far, exactly what us disappointed fans of LO deserve after all these years, and frankly, I feel like whatever is coming for the LO animated TV show is really gonna have to step up to the plate to both live up to the bar that Kaos has set as well as stand on its own without being affiliated as a cheap Amazon knockoff living in its shadow. Sounds a little familiar and a bit ironic, doesn't it?

[55sturn]

✮ SAYIN’ SORRY FOR THAT NIGHT

series masterlist!

paring: boston bruins player!chris sturniolo x fem!reader!

synopsis: in which y/n is greeted by a sudden revelation on the night of chris’ most anticipated game, the one that determines whether or not the bruins get into the playoffs and she’s left apologizing for the night that caused it all.

warnings: swearing, fluff, mentions and descriptions of violent fights, verbal arguments, unplanned pregnancy, discussion of abortions, comments from the other team and hecklers, open ending, angst, angst, angst, and more angst.

THIRD PERSON POV

to be in the limelight alone is tough. to be in it for something such a hockey, where a million and one eyes are watching your every move, scrutinizing every play you make, every workout you do to toughen your body and build your endurance for the tasking time spent on the ice is even tougher, but to do all of that with a public relationship is the toughest thing.

chris knew that announcing his relationship at the peak of his career with the boston bruins was not going to be easy. he had all eyes on him as the bruins' newest right winger, but not only was he the newest player, he was also the youngest to join in years.

just like connor mcdavid's rise to fame with the edmonton oilers, chris was in the spotlight and it wasn't easy. he was in the spotlight because he was a phenomenal player with a chipper attitude that most hockey players don't seem to have. he had been scouted at one of his toughest games in his college career and almost immediately the contracts began flowing and the drafting process had started.

as eyes of everyone involved in the hockey world began to shift to the star of what they called "the boston bruins' new era and future captain", so did the female attention. not only was chris good at what he did, but he was insanely good looking, at least to the younger female demographic that had taken an interest in hockey.

but he didn't care for the, for a lack of a better name, puck bunnies or the future hockey wives in training, he had his own hockey wife sitting front row in the v.i.p section at every game, smiling as she watched him zip back and forth between his teammates and the teammates that he was facing

as he announced who the mystery girl in his practice jersey at every game was, he faced an onslaught of even more hate disguised as criticism and scrutiny from devout bruins fans, potential drafting scouts, and anyone willing to spare an opinion. but as the rather distasteful comments rolled in, his skin grew thicker, because as long as he had her to go home to, he could handle it.

PRESENT TIME

chris sat on the bench in the hallway adorning the infamous bruins logos, each brick in the wall holding some sort of history of the team, twirling tape around the blade of his stick. he found the dressing room too stuffy right before a game, so he and john beecher sat outside the dressing room, joking amongst themselves as they prepared for the game.

"cmon man, you played big games before you'll be fine." john chuckled, handing chris back his spare roll of stick tape as chris sighed.

"i know, it's just a big fuckin' game tonight. haven't played montreal yet."

"wait this is your first game against montreal?"

"yes and as a boston native, i know this is the game, just don't wanna fuck up when this decides whether or not we make it to playoffs."

"kid you'll be fine, you've outdone mcdavid's first year and that's pretty fuckin' bizarre 'cause he's a powerhouse." beecher reassured, clapping the young right winger on the shoulder before heading back to the dressing room. chris stared at the wall across, still struggling to comprehend how his life has become the way it is, he's incredibly grateful for the opportunities he's gotten and proud of the work he's put in, it's just still hard to fathom.

sensing that she should give her boyfriend a quick visit before he went on to the ice, y/n made her way through the crowds of people, smiling at the fans that addressed her, politely declining to take pictures until after the game. she proudly donned a large "8" and the name "STURNIOLO" scrawled across the back of a black away-game jersey and black jeans and her trusty, yet dirty, air forces, proudly showing her support for the man she's loved for six years, since she was a small fourteen year old navigating her year of high school with the triplets by her side.

the thin plastic stick weighed heavy in the pocket of her hoodie she wore beneath the jersey, she was about to tell chris about it, to give him a little motivation to play extra hard. but when she spotted the reporter’s mic pointed toward his helmet covered face, she placed that idea on the back burner. smiling she approached chris,

“hey mister big shot.” she laughed, causing chris to grin as he introduced her to the reported as his girlfriend. the reporter quickly bid the couple goodbye, leaving them to have their moment together.

���hey so i’ve got some really good news for you.” y/n smiled, smoothing her hands over his shoulder pads as he tugged off his helmet, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips.

“listen i wanna go be apart of the chant so i need to go, can this news wait?”

“i guess so. give ‘em hell baby, i love you.”

“always ma, i love you.” chris replied, bouncing on his skates slightly before shoving his helmet back on, quickly shoving his way through the door leading to short hallway his team would walk through.

y/n stared at his back, watching him fade away as she was left to mull over the news she was about to tell chris. it was the start of his career and she didn’t want to derail it any, so the choice between telling him now or tell him in a month waged a violent war in her mind.

shaking her head, she made her way back to the staircase leading to the v.i.p section, as she wove through crowds of people, she heard the gasps and murmurs.

“that’s who the new bruins guy is dating? i won’t be shocked when he starts fucking the puck sluts in a month.”

“she looks out of place and that jersey is so unflattering on her.”

“i hope sturniolo comes to his senses and dumps her ass soon.”

scoffing, y/n climbed the stairs, pushing the overwhelmingly upsetting thoughts from her mind as she spotted nick and matt in their seats. breaking the news to someone was imperative to her, not telling someone would break her but she didn’t know whether she should tell someone before chris.

of course she and chris had talked about their views on starting a family together and the idea of raising a baby together but there was one issue,

chris wanted to wait until secured a long term contract with the bruins. he didn’t want anything to deter his plans. and y/n understood, he has worked so unbelievably hard to get to the position he’s in now. starting a family takes a lot of dedication, time, effort, and devotion without distractions. chris was concerned that if they had a baby early on in his professional hockey career, she’d be left alone to carry out so many of the responsibilities that being a parent brought on.

so as y/n made her way to her designated seat, her heart felt heavy. her doubts only grew with every step she took, and it felt like her body had been held down, it was as if she had cinder blocks chained to her ankles. as she sat beside nick, he picked up on her mood, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to see that sonething was bothering her though. nick bumped her elbow with his, as if to ask what’s wrong and she just smiled and shook her head.

mary-lou, who was sat behind y/n and her three sons, immediately knew what was going on. y/n had a certain glow to her, despite the sorrowful look that had become deeply etched into her skin. she knew that pained expression anywhere, she understood what the taut shoulders, pinched eyebrows, and distraught gleam in her eyes all too well. but the older woman put her excitement about becoming a grandmother off to the side, deciding she’d wait to gloat until y/n had accepted the idea her self.

the family conversed among themselves while the teams prepared to saunter out onto the ice, letting the fans get hyped up. a voice boomed from above, prompting cheers and hollers from the people taking up the stands.

“please welcome your home team, the boston bruins!” the commentator exclaimed, dragging out the words boston bruins in typical emcee fashion, allowing the fans and supporters chant for their team as he played the bruins’ intro song as they skated onto the ice one by one, the emcee announcing the names and numbers above the music.

y/n couldn’t help but lett the pride and excitement she felt show brightly on her face, despite the worries she suffered deep down. she was so incredibly proud of chris, him landing a secure spot on the bruins was a long time coming. it was his dream back in high school the moment he secured a spot on his high school’s team with ease. he was a natural born hockey player and it showed through the surplus of dedication he put into it. and y/n felt more than lucky to be there on the sidelines from the very beginning.

as the emcee asked from everyone to stand for the national anthem, a cheesy grin broke out on her face as chris stood on the offensive line facing the vip box, and pointed up to where he knew she’d be sitting before forming his hand into the best half heart possible that his bulky gloves would allow. she felt her cheeks warm with a deep blush as chris’ family playfully teased her for having their brother and son completely and unfalteringly whipped.

“shut up!” she laughed, her nerves drifting away as the game started. the excitement she never failed to feel at every single one of chris’ games, whether it was just him filling in for the local adult men’s teams or an exhibition game for his old college team, she was always filled with adrenaline as she stood and sat in the stands.

but that was expected when born into a city that favours the winter sport, you were either born with the excitement coursing through your veins or you were born with a deep hatred for it filling every crevice of your body. there was no in between.

y/n cheered along with chris’ family as he zipped, swerved, bobbed, and weaved up and down the ice. that was one thing that most players envied chris for, he was fast and slick, almost as if he was water slipping through your fingers.

and not only was he fast, he held great control over the puck as she moved down the ice, the puck never got away from him as he maneuvered it between players, alternating which side his stick was covering and pushing it.

there was fifteen seconds left in the second period and both montreal and boston held three goals each as chris stood for a moment back checking as his teammates guarding him, and with five seconds ticking down, he delivered a brutal slap shot, sending the puck into the net behind carey price who had dropped to block it a second too late.

the bruins fans’ side of the stands erupted in loud cheers, and so did y/n and chris’ family, his parents laughing giddily as matt made a backhanded comment about price being too old for goaltending.

“i will be right back, i have to use the washroom.” y/n interjects, letting nick know where she’d while the rest of them grabbed drinks.

“yo y/n, you drink budlight right?” justin hums, causing her stomach to drop, her usual habit of having a beer with them at chris’ games being something she hadn’t even considered.

“uh can you just grab me an iced tea? i’ve got an early appointment tomorrow and i’d rather not show up at my doctor’s smelling like beer.” she laughs nervously, causing justin to shrug and accept her answer before heading off to the concession stand near the entrance of the vip box.

“i’ll come with you, i’ve got to use the ladie’s room too.” mary-lou hums, smiling appreciatively as y/n waited for her.

however as they made their way to back of the section they were sitting in, mary-lou motioned for y/n to follow her out into the small hallway that lead to the smoking doors, it was empty as the two stood there.

“how far along are you?” mary-lou whispers, unable to withhold her suspicions any longer, and the abrupt question had y/n’s stomach twisting into more knots than it was already in.

“wha-how did you figure it out?”

“i’ve had my suspicions for a while, the last time you were over i heard you throwing up, and you’ve got the pregnancy glow. plus you’ve been wearing baggy clothes and you aren’t drinking tonight.”

“fuck. sorry for my language. but i think i’m about two and a half months along. last month i just thought my period was late because i was sick and when i get sick, my period is normally late. but then i missed this month’s too and it clicked.”

“have you told chris yet?” mary-lou spoke, her voice soft as she rest a reassuring hand on her future daughter in law’s arm as she shook her head.

“i wanted to tell him before the game, to give him a little motive to play harder but he didn’t want to miss the chant and pep talk so he left before i could say anything about it. i’ve got the test in my pocket and i know it’s not smart to go off just one test so that’s why i’m going to the doctor tomorrow.”

“well i think you should tell him, i think he’ll be happy.”

“that’s what i’m worried about, he wanted to wait until he secured a long term contract. we had this conversation about a month ago.”

“you can’t necessarily control these things. a family comes to be when it’s meant to happen, not when you want it to happen.”

mary-lou’s words stuck deep in y/n’s mind. she knew that chris’ mother was right. y/n had just wished her and chris were a bit more careful that drunken night in the hotel.

FLASHBACK

chris and y/n’s drunken giggles bounced off the walls as they pushed their way into their room. they had gone out for dinner with the team and eventually broke off on their own after swiping two of the complementary bottles of champagne that the teams managers had provided.

they stumbled through the city after hiding in an empty room in the banquet hall, chugging the nasty liquor as quick as they could handle on empty stomachs.

“god baby, you look so pretty in this dress, just wanna tear it off you.” chris rasped, his cheeks flushing and eyes drooping, from the alcohol, or the effect his girlfriend had on him, or maybe even both, she wasn’t quite sure. making him look all the more enticing to y/n.

“do it then.” y/n slurred back, pulling chris into a messy, sloppy, yet incredibly hot, like searingly hot, make out, chris’ hands roamed her body feverishly, unable to stay in one place very long.

as their ministration progressed, so did their desire for one another and the lingering buzz they had from the alcohol left room for a few less than sound decisions. chris drunkenly justified going in raw by saying “just wanna feel as close to you as possible.” and that was all the convincing y/n needed, but she made him promise to pull out in time.

but due to their inebriation, chris wasn’t quick enough but they had long forgotten it by the time morning came.

FLASHBACK OVER

and now she was paying the price for them being reckless. sighing, she made her way back to her seat just as the intermission ended and chris' team made their way back to the home bench, their net switching back to the end they started out on.

it wasn't too far into the third period when the canadiens were getting aggressive, the score was eight to five in favour of boston and montreal was getting mad that they were losing the game, the most awaited game since it was announced boston and montreal would be facing each other to land a bracket in the playoffs.

the fact that it was also playoff season made y/n's stomach twist even tighter, she felt sick. she was so scared she was going to fuck up chris' life plan and she couldn't bear that idea.

but her current worries were thrown on the back burner when she watched a much bigger player from montreal's team check chris, sending him flying back against the ice, his head ricocheting off the ice, leaving chris laying flat on the ice.

chris' coach calls a time-out while paramedics quickly make their way onto the ice, carrying chris off the ice, and before y/n could react, she was pushing her way through the bustling crowd and stomping down the stairs, quickly sprinting to chris' change room.

"i'm sorry ma'am but you can't be in here."

"i'm his fiance." y/n spits, pushing her way into the change room, immediately rushing to chris, raising her hand to play with his hair, pausing momentarily to silently ask for permission which was granted by him leaning into her touch.

"we're okay, if anything happens, we'll call for you." chris rasps, waving away the paramedics, sighing sadly after being told he's not allowed back on the ice for the rest of the game to prevent being knocked around again because he was highly vulnerable to getting a concussion right now.

"tell me something to distract me, baby." chris whispers, pulling y/n into his lap, the bulky padding beneath her feeling foreign as she leans her head on his shoulder.

"i'm not sure what to talk about." she laughs as he rubs his hand back and forth along her thigh.

"your news from earlier."

"oh." she squeaks, her voice almost inaudible as she realizes that it's now or never. sighing, she grabs the test out of her pocket from beneath the spare jersey she wore, placing it into chris' hand with a heartbroken expression and timid voice,

"we're pregnant, chris."

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© 55STURN 2024 [ you do not have permission to copy or save or share my work to other platforms and devices! ]

[markrosewater]

What people are trying to communicate to you is exactly that the way modern sets handle tropes HAS in fact gotten more heavy-handed than in the past. Twins of Maurer Estate references the same trope as Unsettling Twins — but the former does so obliquely, and in a way that's particular to the specific Magic setting; whereas the latter simply states the literal name of the trope outright. And if you look more broadly, you'll see the same trend throughout recent sets.

I'm not even making an assertion that this change is a bad thing. I'm just hoping for you to recognize that the change exists as an objective observable phenomenon.

But, it hasn't got more heavy-handed. We've done blunt naming since the game began in Alpha (Black/White Knight, Lightning Bolt, Castle, Animate Dead, etc.) For example, here are names from expansions set on Innistrad (where the Twins of Maurer Estate example comes from):

Aim for the Head, Army of the Damned, Black Cat, Blood Pact, Boarded Window, Bride’s Gown, Bump in the Night, Burn Down the House, Burning Oil, Butcher’s Cleaver, Brain in a Jar, Ceremonial Knife, Cellar Door, Convicted Killer, Creepy Doll, Evil Twin, Executioner’s Hood, Foul Play, Gone Missing, Graveyard Shovel, Identity Thief, Jack-o’-Lantern, Jar of Eyeballs, Laid to Rest, Lost in the Woods, Magnifying Glass, Night Terrors, Runaway Carriage, Sanctify, Séance, Shard of Broken Glass, Skeleton Key, Stuffed Bear, Unruly Mob, Vampire’s Kiss, Walking Corpse, Wooden Stake and Zombie Apocalypse.

I think the thing going on this year is that we are heaviest with blunt names the first time we visit a world, because we haven't mined a lot of the simple, blunt names yet. 2024 had *three* new worlds each with a new theme with lots of tropes to plumb, plus a revisited world as a backdrop with a brand new theme we hadn't done.

Should we have pulled back a bit on the volume of top-down naming? Should we have done less new worlds in a row? Should we have intertwined unique story elements more? All of that is fair to discuss. I'm not saying we did everything correctly, because obviously some players are unhappy.

My point is this isn't a case of us doing things any differently than we've done before (except maybe in volume, and set proximity) when it comes to bluntness of naming.

[diaper-dyke]

Bubbles

Available on AO3 as well!

CWs: Messing

This was just a quick thing I wrote for a prompt in my Discord server (insert Obama putting a medal on himself meme here). I think it turned out okay despite it being shorter than most of my other stuff. I'll probably write a second chapter for this one eventually since I'm quite happy with the premise. But anyways, hope you enjoy this one!

All characters in this story are 18+.

A soft giggle escaped Nina's mouth as she saw the bubbles floating above her head, glittering rainbow in the bright summer sun. She and Mommy had just gotten outside after about an hour of getting dressed and prepared to go out in the scorching heat.

Mommy was dressed in an orange romper with a white floral print, proudly showing off her tanned legs and arms, wearing deep red lipstick and sunglasses that just barely revealed her eyes if you looked close enough. The romper clung to her body as tightly as wet hair, emphasizing every last curve that it touched, especially that of her bosom and ass.

Nina, on the other hand, had been put in a pretty blue sundress that, as always, was too short to cover up the thick white bulge around her bottom, as well as the marks beneath that showed off the good paddling that Mommy had given her yesterday, as a part of what she called the "good girl routine" that usually took place at the end of the week.

"Such a pretty little girl," Mommy cooed as she waved the bubble wand around, causing a few more bubbles to float out. "Let's hope nobody can see what we're doing back here! That little dress won't hide that bottom at all, hm?"

Nina's cheeks burned as she blinked up at her caregiver.

"Mommy's only telling the truth, cookie. Not a lot to stop people from knowing what a naughty little diaper girl you are.." Mommy let her gaze run over the property. "Just a fence and some hedgerows. You'd better hope none of our neighbors are doing roof maintenance today."

"Mommyyyy! Stoooop!" Nina whined, stomping one foot on the grass.

The woman's eyes narrowed. "Of course, there's no need for seeing in here if they can hear you crying as Mommy paddles your bottom. Is that what you want, little dove?"

Nina immediately shook her head. "No, Mama..."

"Then let's stop that whining, shall we? Mommy was very nice to take you out here to play, and I haven't even heard one 'thank you' yet."

"Thank you, Mommy," Nina was temporarily subdued at the threat of another spanking, acutely aware of her bottom that was just barely recovering from yesterday's spanking.

"Good girl," Mommy praised, dipping the wand back in the container and re-emerging with a fresh new set of bubbles. "Let's see how many my smart little bunny can pop, hm?"

At that simple command, all of Nina's conscious thoughts shut down as she fully immersed herself in what her Mommy had told her to do. Mommy knew what was best for her, and Mommy had told her to pop the bubbles. It was admittedly a relief to focus on something so silly and meaningless after the long, hard stressors of the grown-up world had taken their toll on her. Here, she could just relax with her caregiver, accepting her love and her discipline.

Nina was so immersed in the game, in fact, that she wasn't even aware when she started to wet her diaper. There was none of the usual fuss or whining that usually accompanied a wet diaper, the fragments of Nina's adult self trying to put themselves back together. Those fragments were simply not there now, buried far back in the recesses of Nina's mind. She just peacefully flooded her padding without a second thought, before continuing to play for what felt like hours, occasionally stopping to splash around in the kiddie pool that Mama had filled up for her.

It was absolutely adorable, Mommy thought, that Nina ever believed she was an adult. Sure, she had to play pretend when she was out in the big girl world. But here? Here, Mommy would never let her get the chance to protest that she was a big girl. There was no pullup privileges, let alone undie privileges. There was no days that Nina got to sleep anywhere besides her crib or in Mommy's bed. There was no days where Nina was allowed to tuck herself in or change herself. There was no days where Nina wasn't Mommy's perfect little baby.

"Princess, come here," With those simple worlds, the game came to a halt, and Nina scrambled over to Mommy. "Mommy needs to check your diaper. Why don't you go ahead and bend over for me?"

Nina shamelessly bent over, allowing Mommy to have a full view of the soaked diaper. Yet, as Mommy ran her hand over her baby's thick padding, she could still feel many dry spots in there. This diaper could hold a lot more, and Mommy wasn't a big fan of wasting diapers.

"You can do better than that," she decided, giving Nina's bottom a firm pat. "I don't even smell any poopies in there. Is someone having trouble making pushies?"

Nina whimpered and immediately shook her head, knowing that it meant nothing. Usually, Mommy would retrieve an enema or a bottle to give her some 'special cleaning time.' But she made no movements towards the house now, instead just dipping the bubble wand back into the container.

"I have a new game," she explained, holding unwavering eye contact with Nina as she slowly bobbed the wand into the bubble mixture. "You've been doing such a good job popping these bubbles, but Mama has noticed that you've let quite a few get away. So, Mommy wants to raise the stakes a little bit."

Nina swallowed as Mommy drew the wand back out of the container, holding it up and winking at the soggy little girl. "For each bubble that you let get away, that will be another spanking over Mommy's knee tonight. The game ends when you squat and make successful pushies in your diaper. Does that sound fair?"

It didn't, but Nina knew better than to say that. Mommy would just find a way to make the game meaner. "Yes, Mommy."

"Yes, Mommy, and?" Mommy waved the wand, sending five bubbles into the air. Her foot tapped as she waited patiently for Nina to remember.

"Thank you, Mommy," Nina finally whispered.

"I didn't quite hear that," Mommy tipped her head and waved the wand again, sending another three bubbles into the air.

"Thank you, Mommy!" Nina blurted more enthusiastically.

"Good girl. And what a shame, it looks like you've already earned eight spankings," Mommy told her, looking at the eight bubbles that were far out of Nina's reach now, before blowing another set out into the air.

"B-" Nina cut off her protest. It wasn't fair! Mommy hadn't told her that the game had already started. But she didn't have time to whine, instead hurrying to catch the bubbles that Mommy had blown, missing another three. Before she could even turn around, several more bubbles floated past her head, and this time, she managed to pop all of them.

They played the game for about half an hour before Nina felt her tummy starting to flip. Ignoring the next set of bubbles, she dropped into a squat and started to push, praying that it would be successful. Another set of bubbles floated past her head, and she used one hand to bat at them, just as her tummy rumbled and she started to push her mess into her diaper, feeling it sag and swell even further as she messed herself.

"Aww," came Mommy's voice from behind her. "Did someone mush her pampers?"

Nina sniffled as she finally came to the realization that not only had she just pooped herself in front of her Mommy, but that she probably owed her caregiver a lot of spankings now. A tear leaked down her face, and as she lifted a hand to wipe it away, a larger hand got there first, wiping her tear before lowering to cradle her chin. All the icky feelings resurfaced as Nina realized that the game was over, and that the sun was setting.

"It's okay," Mommy asserted softly. "You did so good, sweetie. You're going to be just fine- Mommy's going to take care of you."

Nina blinked up at her, and Mommy grabbed one of her hands, letting their fingers intertwine as she started to lead Nina back towards the house. Nina's whines went from humiliated to protesting, not wanting to go inside yet. It was so much more fun in the backyard, where she could run around and kick her feet and throw her toys as much as she wanted, with little risk of breaking anything.

"Aww, I know, peanut," Mama cooed, but didn't let up. "We can come out and play again tomorrow, okay? It'll be too dark to play out here soon, and besides, Mommy has a different type of playtime planned for you."

Nina's nerves were set alight immediately.

"Don't you like the thought of getting some time with Miss Buzzy?" Mommy's voice was so soft and coaxing. "Because she's very excited to play with you. You two haven't gotten to play together in a while, have you?"

"Spankies?" Nina tilted her head. She was so cute that Mommy wanted to hold her up to the world and scream for them to look at the precious sight in her arms. Of course, she could never do that- little Nina was just for her. But it didn't stop her from wishing.

"Oh, don't worry, you owe Mommy thirty-two spankings after the bubble game. We can save them for another day, though. You're still a little sore from yesterday, hm?" Mommy led her into the house, receiving only one grumble of protest this time. "Tonight is for playtime. My baby's diaper has a tiny bit more room for some cummies before Mommy changes her."

She gave Nina a playful wink. "Don't you think?"

Nina felt warmth fluttering in her stomach at the soft compassion that Mama showed her. Despite her grumbles, her whines, and her unbearably stinky diapers, she knew that Mommy loved her, and would do anything to keep her happy. And that was why Nina would always try her hardest to be a good girl, even if she wavered from that goal at times and needed to be corrected under her caregiver's firm but loving touch.

"Yes, Mommy."

[faraway-sunshine]

We Interrupt This Blog To Show You Something Awesome

Omori has a Lego Ideas set! This awesomeness is brought to you by designer FoodIsScarce.

Under the cut, I'll be showing more images, explaining my thoughts, and give clarifications on how Lego Ideas works for this set. But if you want to skip that, link is here.

Lego Ideas Neighbor's Room and White Space Set Breakdown

To start off, this set has a whopping three components, all of which stand alone.

First, we have Neighbor's room!

The colors are honestly so nice in this mock-up. Lego has a fairly limited palette, but being bright and poppy works really well here.

Compared to the in-game room, it's pretty compact, but that makes sense so it doesn't dominate your shelves. Everything important is there, to outstanding detail. The leaves may ride up higher above the doorframe, but it doesn't break the immersion for me. It all feels like a piece of really nice fanart or even concept art.

The yellow cat is the centerpiece and I am very impressed with it. It isn't as stretched out as the original, though that's affected by the build size, but the shape of the paws, ears and head are spot-on and the face sticker really sells it.

Also, building the set sideways so it's smooth? Genius in my books. Sure, the minifigs won't stick, but all the smooth edges in this make the set stand out from Lego's lineup without seeming like a jarring oddity. Kind of like Omori's world compared to a bunch of other RPGs, really, so it's fitting.

I guess if I have a nitpick it'd be that the leaves are entirely different in vibe due to being all fluffy and rounded instead of the big sharp shapes in the original, but I don't think that's even really a bad thing. Just part of the Lego-ifying process. Also I groan at how I know I will place the cat's eyes wrong. Stickers are the bane of my existence. For Yellow Cat though, I would in theory persist.

Next, we have Mari's picnic blanket!

Gotta be honest, this caught me off guard, even as someone who was keeping track of this project for a while, but this is AWESOME. Colors are nailed, the existing basket and fruit pieces translate so well, and I just want to place all my fave figs on it immediately. I do hope that Mari's square could be subbed out with something with studs to keep her in place, as nothing else seems to be (maybe the basket has a 1 by 2 piece keeping it locked?).

I think it's an excellent choice even if it doesn't appear in either main room because you can plonk it by any other set or the huge pile of loose bricks you haven't gotten around to sorting yet and boom. You've just made a new corner of Headspace!

Last but certainly not least, White Space!

The computer and tissue box I think were really well done. Smooth place also tickles my fancy. I'm not as sold by the suspended light bulb; some white walls that maybe has a claw on the side would have helped sell the room more to me, I think. But it's solid.

And then you get to my favorite part in the room:

Original creator, you have my vote.

What about the minifigs?

This set still has you covered!

In this current iteration it includes six minifigs for your main characters as well as the cat and snake seen in earlier pictures. Everyone except Hero and Mari seem to be those shorter models, which always used to annoy me as a kid cause I couldn't bend the legs, but gets a pass here because remembering that height difference is nice.

The hair is a hot point of contest with the comments and Reddit posts. I'll explain more below, but Lego Ideas has rules about custom molds for new figures, so these were the closest the creator could get. And hey, I think Hero is spot on!

All the outfits and faces are custom prints, which are far easier than custom molds, and I think were done really well! Basil's top might be a bit bright, but otherwise the colors are perfect, and so is all the printing.

I also saw that Mari, Basil and Aubrey all had one extra face, which is rad. Not sure yet if Hero and Kel do too or if it's just the girls (I should assume Omori is just slate-faced as ever).

Just one more note: I love how spoiler-free this set is. You know everything in the first few moments of play. Our community is really bad with spoilers, I admit, so this is perfect for a shelf.

Here's some pics of them in action:

How does Lego Ideas even work? Is my vote worth it?

Short answer: Heck yeah!

Long answer:

Lego Ideas is a really popular program with a lot of new builds all the time, and people put a lot of work into both the models and promoting them just for the off-chance of it becoming a product.

I compiled some questions you might have based on this set specifically, but there's plenty of info yourself if you want to learn more.

How does a set get selected?

Lego Ideas has three intake periods a year for products that get over 10k signatures between the last period and that date. Each intake only has a select few that actually get to that mark; the record number in 2021 according to Wikipedia is 57 in one 2021 intake. It sounds like a lot, but in the site's 10-year run it's had over 135,000 ideas shared, not including a bunch that would have been struck down prior to going live due to breaking rules.

Each set gets 60 days to meet that goal on first launch, then an additional 365 once 100 people have signed on. Getting 1,000 supporters gives you an extra 6 months on top of that, and 5,000 (the halfway mark) another 6 months.

Meeting that 10k mark is non-negotiable for that specific set to receive the expert review through Ideas, though successful ideas that are lower may spark inspiration from their own teams.

Do I need to pledge money?

No! Lego Ideas is not a Kickstarter or crowdfund campaign. Those ask for money as they need a way to produce and distribute the product. Lego handles this on the creator's behalf.

All you need is to make a free Lego account and click the support button. You don't even have to enable email notifications on signup.

Where will I find the set then if it's made?

Anywhere else you find Lego! Even toyshops I go to have a small shelf for Ideas sets. If none of your local retailers have it, it'd be on online storefronts worldwide.

But Omori is a licensed product!

So are most of Lego Ideas' concepts that make it to becoming a set! Out of the 65 sets announced and confirmed for production (or who have already had their run!) just 29 are not tied to an IP.

So Omocat will be involved?

Yes. If the idea gets far enough, Lego would reach out to Omocat and any other copyright holders of Omori to discuss how to proceed. They will also get a say in any tweaks, and likely make a licensing fee off of Lego.

However, due to the Ideas streamline, the set likely won't be sold on Omocat's storefront (and if they are, it'd be because Omocat got a few sets to sell from them; they'll never be exclusive to Omocat's store).

Will the creator get paid?

If it makes it, yes! Lego Ideas people get a 1% cut. It's not much, but for all the work it gets to 10k I think it's earned.

But Omori isn't for kids!

Guess what: Neither are most Ideas! They're packed in black boxes and kept near the architecture and more advanced Technic sets targeted towards adults. Each set also has an age recommendation based both on set difficulty and the IP.

Is Omori even appropriate for Lego as a brand?

Omori is on the list of approved IP for Lego Ideas. This may be reviewed, but I think it will remain appropriate both because the set does not portray any of the concerning content in the game and because of the nature.

Lego says they won't make sets for franchises built around graphic violence, alcohol, or sex. Omori lacks all that. I doubt it would be yanked down based on that.

I don't care about Omori. Why should I support this?

First, why did you make it down here?

And second, look. I get it even as a fan. But if we can get an Omori set even to the review stage, that opens up the door for people to try with all other kinds of indie franchises. Undertale, Oneshot, Stardew Valley, Hollow Knight, whatever you think of!

Lego Ideas is a portal to Lego working with IP that isn't just owned by a mega corporation, and I think that is awesome.

I signed! What else can I do?

Spread the word! Reblog this post, tell your friends about it, repost (with links and credit) to other social media. Every little bit helps on the road to 10k, to catch Lego's attention, or even just to inspire someone else with a set idea they worry is too niche to share.

Cause this isn't just about Omori. It's about supporting the creativity of a dedicated fan who spent a long time working on something clearly inspired by a game held closely. And I am always going to support that.

Thank you for reading this far! If you're a regular, sorry for the break, lol. I will get back to regular posts soon. I just had an exam so am still a bit drained.

LINK IS HERE FOR A SECOND TIME: https://ideas.lego.com/projects/a73aaefc-9bc2-44f8-b106-63d66817fd1a/official_comments#content_nav_tabs

[strangersteddierthings]

Gut Instinct: Interlude - Eddie

[Art] [Ao3] [Prologue] [Chapter One] [Chapter Two] [Interlude]

A/N: Friday evening from Eddie's POV.

-

“Holy shit,” Jeff says, “you actually do know King Steve?”

Eddie almost gives himself whiplash from how quickly he looks from Erica to Dustin and, holy shit, the Keg Stand King himself, Steve Harrington.

“I told you he’s awesome,” Dustin says in a tone that implies Jeff’s an idiot. “Come on Steve, sit beside me. I’ll help you with the rules.”

“Hold up,” Eddie says, rounding to Harrington. He looks like a deer caught in the headlights for a moment, which is hilarious to Eddie. Who knew Harrington could be startled? However, any joy he might have gotten from startling Harrington is fleeting, because Eddie doesn’t trust why he’s here. Why he would agree to sub. Harrington’s always been bad news, and Eddie doesn’t trust him as far as he can throw him, no matter how nice he is to look at. “Your character is?”

“Oh, uh, tiefling paladin, oath of the crown,” Harrington says, trying to catch Dustin’s eye in what Eddie thinks Steve believes is a subtle way.

Eddie shoots a glare at him. No way Harrington came up with that character. It had to have been made by Dustin, which Eddie would normally count as cheating and kick someone out for, but… Well, he’s got to admit a little intrigued. Harrington might not have made his own character, but he pronounced tiefling right and knew to say the subclass. “Right. And why’d you agree to sub?”

There is a small pause before Harrington simply says, “Dustin asked.”

He’s got to admit to some surprise here. He didn’t think Harrington could actually care about other people, but he seems genuine. Honest, almost. “Fine.” Eddie watches as Dustin steers Harrington to an empty seat. Eddie takes his own spot back on the throne. If Harrington is going to play, he’ll need to tweak the battle a little. Having another higher-level paladin in the group throws off his carefully calculated challenge rating. Easy enough to tweak. A few more minions can join the fight, and Vecna can still be deadly as he is now without changes. He’ll see if he needs to up the hit points for Vecna after the first combat encounter. If they breeze through that, Vecna’s definitely getting a boost.

Also... Well, also, Eddie’s almost a little excited that Harrington’s going to see this side of him. Yes, Harrington was witness to more than his fair share of cafeteria rants but that’s different. That’s Eddie acting out against the system because it’s rigged in favor of people like Harrington, and against people like Eddie. Here, Harrington will get to see Eddie perform.

While plotting, he does take the time to eavesdrop at bit. Specifically on Harrington.

“Hi. I’m Steve.”

“I know,” Gareth says, and he couldn’t sound more disinterested in talking to Harrington if he tried. Eddie’s a little proud of him.

“Right. And you are…?”

“Gareth.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“We’ve met. Like four times,” Gareth says dismissively and Eddie grins behind his DM screen. How many times had Harrington dismissed them? He knows he shouldn’t be feeling this vindicated. And yet…

There’s a bit of a pause before Eddie hears Harrington ask, “Isn’t Lucas in this club, too?”

“Well, yeah, that’s why you’re here. To fill in for him. ‘Cause he’s in the basketball game,” Dustin answers.

“And he’s okay with missing this game?”

“Well, uh, he doesn’t exactly know he’s missing it?” Dustin says it like a question and Eddie can’t help but roll his eyes. There’s no way Lucas Sinclair, budding athlete that he is, doesn’t know he’s missing this game. He made his choice.

“I’m sorry, what?” Harrington says.

“He asked us to get Eddie to postpone the game, but Eddie said no. Besides, Mike’s leaving the state tomorrow morning and we’d have to wait two weeks to play again otherwise,” Dustin explains, “and, uh, we haven't seen him since he asked us after the assemble to tell him that the game would not be postponed.”

Eddie finally lifts his head to watch the exchange. He can’t see Dustin’s face, as Dustin is facing Harrington, but that leaves Eddie with a perfect view of Harrington.

“That’s bullshit, Henderson,” Harrington’s raises his voice. He doesn’t have an expression on his face that would suggest anger. It’s more disappointment, but either way, Eddie’s not about to watch Harrington bully one of his sheep.

“Watch it, Harrington,” Eddie snaps, matching Harrington’s energy. “You don’t get to bully people around here.”

“That’s not- right, sorry. Just, can we postpone for like ten more minutes?” Harrington asks.

“Why the Hell would we do that?” Eddie is bewildered, he’ll admit that. Why does Harrington need ten more minutes?

“So I can go tell Lucas this game wasn’t postponed, like he thinks it is,” that bit hissed in Dustin’s direction, “and he might only be going to the basketball game because he thinks this one isn’t happening.”

“Oh,” Eddie says, a bit dumbly. Has he read Lucas all wrong? Is he more nerd than jock? It’s strange that Harrington might be the authority on that matter, but he seems terribly invested in these kids. Maybe Eddie has read Harrington all wrong? Maybe he really has changed, and is just here to make a bunch of kids happy? “Fine. Ten minutes. We’re starting without you or Sinclair if it takes longer than that.”

“Thanks!” Harrington smiles at him.

Eddie’s self-aware enough to know why his insides flutter in the face of the full Harrington Charm directed at him. He scrunches his face in disgust at himself. He was, is, over the crush he’d had on Harrington. That was a blip on his radar of Unfortunate and Bad Crushes on Stupid Straight Boys. A lot of people made the list (he’s a hopeless romantic, sue him) so Harrington’s not special.

Isn’t going to be special. Eddie’s going to kill his paladin as quickly as possible and then kick him out to go watch the basketball game or something.

-

“Any moment now Steve's going to walk back through that door with Lucas. So, I hope you are prepared to have two extra players tonight. He's very persuasive. He'll get Lucas to come around. If anyone can, it's Steve. Just you wait,” Dustin is saying when Harrington steps back into the room. Not that Eddie was watching the door for him.

Harrington’s got a look on his face that isn’t pleased. Great.

“Oh no,” Erica sighs, “that’s your Disappointed Parent face.”

“I don’t have a ‘Disappointed Parent’ face,” Harrington says before turning his gaze to Eddie. “Eddie, Lucas thinks you don’t like him.”

“Why does he think that?” Eddie stands up from where he was sitting. He doesn’t like the tone in Harrington’s voice and he’s not going to stay sitting so Harrington can talk down to him, literally or figuratively.

“He thinks you don’t like him because he’s missed previous games. Thinks you don’t like him so much that he had to have Dustin and Mike ask about this game because he believes you’d have said no immediately to him,” Harrington steps further into the room, and Eddie watches as all his friends tense. Ready to jump to his defense if need be. Eddie’s tense, too, because this is the Harrington he remembers. The one who thinks his word is law, and everyone should obey. Well, Eddie’s not going just roll over. Of course the jock shows up in defense of the other jock.

“I don’t hate him, but the budding jock made his choice,” Eddie scoffs, dismissive.

“You’re a fucking hypocrite, Eddie. ‘You don’t get to bully people around here.’” Harrington uses a deeper tone that Eddie thinks is supposed to represent Eddie’s voice as he parrots the words back to him. “It’s only okay for you to be the bully, huh?”

Eddie gasps, offended. “Of the two of us, Harrington, I’m not the fucking bully,” Eddie moves away from the table, rounding it to go get into Harrington’s face, but Gareth reaches out and grabs his elbow, stopping Eddie in his tracks. It’s the right call, because Eddie doesn’t want to have to fist fight Harrington in front of the club, but he’ll fucking do it.

“You don’t know shit about me,” Harrington fires back. “I was a dick in high school, yeah, but I grew the fuck up. You’re bullying a fifteen-year-old because he wants to, what, play sports? Making him choose between the two? That’s fucked up.”

“Again, I didn’t fucking make him choose!” Eddie growls back. Eddie didn’t! Lucas made his choice the day he tried out for basketball. Eddie knew it. Lucas knew it. Lucas’s friends knew it. The only one in the room who doesn’t seem to get it is Harrington, who must truly believe you can have your cake and eat it too. Unsurprising, Eddie thinks, since Harrington was born with a silver spoon in his goddamn mouth that probably already had cake on it. Ice cream, too.

“You did! By not postponing the fucking game! School sports have a set schedule, and you could have looked at it before scheduling Hellfire,” Harrington says. “Lucas is allowed to like sports and nerd things. And you two,” he pivots to point between Dustin and Mike, “are being kind of shitty right now. After everything you’ve gone through together, you couldn’t stick by his side for this?”

“Hey, I have to get on a plane tomorrow morning,” Mike defends himself. “If they postponed, then I wouldn’t have gotten to play!”

“So, it’s fine that Lucas can’t play, but terrible if you can’t? That’s a load of shit, Wheeler. Lucas is supposed to be your friend.”

“He is my friend-“

“Then act like it!” Harrington says. “Will and El aren't here anymore; are you really okay with losing Lucas, too?”

“That is not fair,” Mike’s tone is almost flat as he glares at Harrington.

“Steve, you’re being defensive, right now,” Dustin speaks up, giving Harrington a pointed look.

Those words cause a shift in Harrington for some reason. Eddie watches him deflate before turning back to Eddie and saying, “If you want Lucas to believe you don’t hate him, you’d go to the game, too.”

“Lucas can draw his own conclusion about how I feel. I’m not responsible for his emotions, Harrington,” Eddie growls. As soon as the words leave his mouth, he feels a little regret. He didn’t say anything untrue but it’s not how he really feels. He’s not usually this dismissive of Hellfire member’s feelings but Harrington’s mere presence has set him into fight mode and he realizes he’s saying things he doesn’t believe just to argue. Why is he trying so hard to get into a fight right now?

“You’re right, but you’re also older than him and should take some responsibility for how you act around him,” Harrington says, and Eddie feels shame. He fucking hates it. Only Wayne’s able to evoke shame from him, and it’s bullshit that Harrington’s doing it now. “He thinks you’re being shitty to him, on purpose. He thinks you treat him differently than you do Dustin or Mike. And that’s fucked up. He’s just a kid, he looks up to you, and he's been through enough.”

Eddie doesn’t argue back. Harrington is right. Eddie knows he’s right. That shame coils in his gut, and he’s pissed that it’s Harrington making him feel that way. That it’s Harrington who is pointing out Eddie’s shortcomings.

There’s a shuffling sound and Dustin is standing, shoving his things into his backpack. He doesn’t say anything, but he does look at Mike. The two seem to have a silent conversation because after a moment Mike nods, and begins to gather his stuff, too.

“So, you two are out?” Eddie’s asks. He tries to keep his voice neutral, but he feels a little betrayed. Of course, Harrington shows up and ruins everything for him. He should have known he’d never stack up against Steve Harrington.

It’s childish to think because Dustin and Mike aren’t picking Harrington. He knows that. He knows they’re picking Lucas, their lifelong friend.

And yet.

It’s like Eddie is fifteen and a sophomore again, getting picked last for PE games and group projects. Not being ‘cool’ enough, which had made younger him feel not good enough.

“Harrington’s right,” Dustin says as he swings his backpack over his shoulder, “Lucas does really want to be here. He sounded real upset when he asked us to talk to you about changing the day of the game. I also really want to play, it’s going to suck missing the final session, but it’s going to suck more to bail on a years-long friendship.”

“Yeah. Lucas has never bailed on us,” Mike adds, even though he sounds upset for agreeing.

Erica lets out a put-upon sigh, “he has bailed on me, but never when it mattered, I guess. I expect that you’re buying the tickets, Steve?”

“Unbelievable!” Eddie throws his hands in the air, anger in his voice, probably laced with the hurt he feels. This was always going to be the outcome. Ever since the first time Dustin brought up Harrington, Eddie knew he’d be second fiddle. He shouldn’t feel so upset by this but fuck, he does.

“A compromise?” Harrington offers. “Mike, when are you back?”

“Uhh, the plane is supposed to land Thursday afternoon; I’ll be back in town that night sometime.”

“Great,” Harrington looks to Eddie. “Can you guys play next Friday, or even Thursday night if Mike isn’t jet-lagged too much?”

“School’s locked up next week,” Dustin answers before he can. Which is fine, he was going to say the same thing anyway.

“What about your basement, Mike?” Harrington changes his attention to Mike.

“Won’t fit all of us,” Mike says. “It was barely enough room when it was just Dustin, Lucas, Will, and I. The table's not big enough.”

“Plus, it stinks like boy,” Erica wrinkles her nose, “unwashed, gross boy.”

“It’s not that bad!”

“Yes, it is,” Harrington says.

“Steve, I have a compromise,” Erica says. “Regarding a promise you made to me. For life.”

Erica now has Harrington’s full attention it seems, and also Eddies, because what kind of lifelong promise has Harrington made to this child? “Yes, Erica?” Harrington asks.

“We play at your house next Friday. You will provide snacks and pizza,” she says it like it’s decided, before pointing her finger at Harrington, then dragging her hand through the air to point at everyone, “and all you nerds will stop bickering like old people. You’ll also have to buy our tickets because I didn’t bring any money. In return, I will shorten your life debt to the day after I graduate from high school.”

“Done! Deal!” Harrington accepts instantly, easily, and with a lot of relief in his voice. What the fuck did he owe Erica? Eddie’s dying to know, because he’s curious by nature. Not because anything about Harrington actually interests him. “I’ll be buying all the basketball tickets, and just tell me what pizza you want. That work for everyone?”

“Your parents will be okay with that?” Dustin asks.

“Oh, they’ll be gone by Friday for sure so no issue. So, will that work for everyone?” Harrington asks.

Eddie exchanges looks with his friends, a silent agreement to go with whatever they want. He hopes they say no, but Jeff speaks an affirmative first, so he, Gareth, and Frankie parrot that yes.

Erica stalks up to Harrington, stopping just in front of him, hand out, palm up. With a sigh, Harrington pulls his wallet out of his back pocket and drops it into Erica’s hand. Erica says, “I’ll get back to you on the pizza I want. I’ll go buy tickets. Are you all coming?”

Gareth says, “Uh, Harrington’s not gonna buy-“

“I said are. You. Coming?” Erica repeats, hands on her hips.

“Yes,” Gareth answers, then looks surprised he did. Eddie’s surprised, too, but only a little. He really likes Erica. He’s not going to be in school when her time to really join the club comes, but he’s going to make sure Gareth recruits her anyway. Somehow.

Erica gives one nod and heads out the door.

Eddie just watches for a moment as everyone gathers their things before he heaves a sigh and starts to pack up, too.

It’s not until Harrington speaks that Eddie realizes he’s alone with him in the green room, everyone else having left already. “I'm sorry. I’m sorry for coming in here and like, immediately attacking you. That wasn’t cool of me.”

Eddie looks him over before scoffing. “It’s whatever, man.”

“It’s really not,” Harrington says. “I know that, like, a lot of work goes into this game and I’m sorry. So, like, if you want anything extra, or need something for the game next week, I’ll get it. I’ll help however I can.”

Eddie pauses in the middle of his clean up, to look up at Harrington and study him. Those were the last words he expects to come out of Harrington’s mouth. An apology? Surely he’s entered the Twilight Zone. Harrington not only looks sincere, but sounds it, too.

He hates how, ever since Harrington’s arrival, Eddie feels like he’s lost control of his emotions. He’s always been on a hair trigger when Harrington and his stupid, handsome face were near. It’s the one crush he was never able to fully get over. And he hates it. He hates that he feels anything for the ex-king of Hawkins High besides contempt.

What should he say here? Thank you? Fuck off?

When Eddie finally replies, he settles for, “I don’t know if I hate you or not.”

“That’s fair,” Harrington says quietly, sincerely, and Eddie hates that, too. Hates that he can see the Harrington Dustin is always praising. If even just a little. Speaking of Dustin.

“I’ve got to know, Harrington. How’d this group of kids get to be so important to you?” Eddie goes back to gathering up the stuff on the table, needing something to do or he’s going to do something stupid. Like let Harrington have his full attention. "Why is their continued friendship important to you?"

“I used to babysit them. Try and keep them out of trouble, which is impossible because they’re too fucking curious and smart. That’s a godawful combination, you know?”

Eddie lifts one corner of his mouth upwards in a smile he tries to fight back down because, “My uncle would agree with you.”

“Yeah, well, they don’t need a babysitter anymore but-“ Harrington cuts his words off, and when Eddie glances to him, he’s wearing a thoughtful expression. Harrington finally continues with, “But they’re family now. They can be a bunch of shitheads, but I love them. And they hate it when I say this, but they should get to be kids as long as they can.”

He doesn’t respond. Instead, he takes the time to process the words and he gathers up his things. Maybe he is wrong about Harrington. Maybe, he has changed. People are allowed to do that, Eddie knows, but he’s never witnessed it. Not really.

“Help me load what I’ll need for the session next week into my van and I’ll think about forgiving you for ruining this one,” Eddie says once everything is gathered.

“Yes!” Harrington agrees, a bit too eagerly and quickly. Like he couldn’t wait to be useful to Eddie in some way. Eddie shoots him a confused and concerned look before picking up the first stack of things and heading out. Between the two of them they make quick work of it all.

When they finally get to the gym, Dustin is sitting on the sidewalk waiting for them with their tickets. Eddie follows Dustin into the gym and watches with amusement as Dustin manhandles Harrington into sitting next to Mike. Dustin then sits next to Harrington, then pats the spot next to him while grinning at Eddie. Eddie looks up and sees that Gareth, Jeff, Frankie, and Erica have taken seats towards the top of the bleachers. He debates joining them but ends up dropping onto the bench next to Dustin.

“Oh, shit.” He hears Harrington say to himself.

“What, what is it?” Dustin asks.

“Brenda.”

“What?”

“Brenda!” Harrington hisses, “I, uh, I stood her up. To come to your game instead.”

Eddie swivels to look at Harrington, eyes wide and eyebrows raised in both surprise and delight as he asks, “You ditched a date to play DnD?”

Harrington and Eddie just look at each other for a moment before he watches Harrington blush with embarrassment. “Like I said. Dustin asked.”

Eddie shakes his head because he can’t believe Harrington. Steve ‘Lady’s Man’ Harrington ditched a lady because a fourteen-year-old asked him to. He turns back to the court, so he doesn’t give away how cute he thinks that is.

Wait. No. He doesn’t think anything Harrington does is cute. He doesn't!

Since he’s looking at the court, Eddie looks for Lucas and finds him just in time to see Lucas’s face light up when he sees the whole club sitting there. There’s that shame from earlier back, pooling in his gut.

Everyone stays for the whole game. They all get to see Lucas make the winning shot. Eddie finds himself cheering with the rest of the stands.

He joins everyone with swarming Lucas. He doesn’t push in and get close, the shame in his stomach keeping him at a distance, but he does make eye contact and gives two thumbs up. Lucas looks overjoyed at just that, and it’s suddenly too much inside. Too loud.

He needs to go.

He makes it halfway to his van before he hears Harrington again.

“Hey, Eddie, wait!”

Eddie does wait, turning as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Harrington. Not done turning my night upside down?”

“Nah, man. Just wanted to give you my number.”

“Your number?” Eddie says, voice a bit delirious because what the fuck. Why would Harrington want Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson to have his number?

“Yeah. So that when it’s closer to the Dungeons game you can call, let me know the time that works for you all. Maybe even drop off some of that stuff I helped you load before the game? Whatever makes it easier for you.”

“Oh,” why is he disappointed by that answer? What had he been hoping it would be? “Yeah. Sure. I don’t have a pen on me-“

“No issue. Already wrote it down,” Harrington says, pulling the paper from his pocket, offering it to Eddie.

He reaches out slowly and takes it, balling his fist around it without looking at it, eyes locked onto Harrington's face. The nearest light source is behind Harrington, so he can’t see the features of his face but that’s fine. He’s not looking for them. He stares, just looking. Harrington has not been what he thought he would be. Eddie’s not used to being wrong about things. Harrington confuses him, makes him a little crazy, and he’s got a week to unpack the why of that. Dare he say it, he might be looking forward to the game at Harrington’s house.

Eddie turns on his heel and heads off into the night without another word. If he stays any longer he might try something stupid, like asking if he and Harrington might have a shot at friendship after all.

“Okay then. Have a good night! See you next week!” Harrington shouts at his back and Eddie lets himself smile about it.

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

Apple Seed 5: The Name Game

Buckle up, Buttercups. We got another long one here.

Charlie: (beginning to waddle from the cantaloupe sized bump in her belly as she makes her way towards her office) Ugh... This thing is starting to weigh a ton, and we're barely halfway there!

Vaggie: (walking with Charlie and holding her hand while rubbing her lower back) I know, babe. I know. Good news, though. You're not puking every morning and evening anymore.

Charlie: You have a good point. (enters the office and sits in her plush chair. She tries to lean over to untie her shoes but winces in discomfort, both from the baby belly pinching and how the heels are constricting on her sore hooves) *whiiiiiiiine* Vaaaaggiiiiieeeeee~

Vaggie: I gotcha, babe. Relax. (kneels down and removes the heels, watching amusingly as the hooves flex and spread in absolute glee from being freed, before sitting cross-legged on the floor and gently rubbing the soreness out of each hoof from tip to calf)

Charlie: (melts into her chair as the soreness and stiff muscles relax, tears instantly springing to her eyes) You- *sniff* You're an amazing wife, Vaggie. I don't *sniff-sniff* deserve you.

Vaggie: (rolls her eyes fondly as she continues massaging Charlie's hooves) So you say every day, hun. I'm just trying to take as much stress and ache away from you as possible.

Charlie: I say it every day because it's true...

-Pleasant silence spreads through the room-

Charlie: I have about an hour before I have to do anything.

Vaggie: (slightly perks up) Oh?~

Charlie: (wiggles excitedly) We haven't talked about baby names yet! Can we think of some now?

Vaggie: (not where her mind was going) Oh....

Charlie: Yeah! We should think of a couple to have on hand! Since we don't know the sex yet, can I-

Vaggie: Choose the girl names while I pick possible boy names?

Charlie: *gasp* How did you know?!

Vaggie: I watch you sketch names into your little baby notebook every night, babe. It's not rocket science. But, sure. I'm game. Do you want to throw a few out and the other can agree or disagree on the name?

Charlie: Yes! Okay! Me first! Rhiannon!

Vaggie: Rhiannon?

Charlie: Mm-hmm!!! And if she wants to go by a nickname like me, She can call herself Ria!

Vaggie: I guess that's alright.

Charlie: What about you?

Vaggie: Me? I don't know. I haven't thought of anything. I'm not exactly the creative type.

Charlie: Come on, Vaggie. I know you can come up with something!

Vaggie: Okay... Uh... CJ?

Charlie: CJ?

Vaggie: (blushes) Ya know... Charlie Junior?

Charlie: (big puppy eyes) Awwwww.... You want to name him after me? You're so sweet, Vaggie~ But pass. Not a fan of naming kids like that. Having you moan my name during sex would be ruined forever.

Vaggie: That's fair. (works a nasty knot out of Charlie's left calf muscle) You're turn.

Charlie: Lucy or Lily? Oh! Lucily!!!

Vaggie: After your parents?

Charlie: (nods relentlessly) Mm-hmm! My relationship with my dad has gotten a lot better since the war with the Exorcists. I think it'd be sweet.

Vaggie: You know he would cry worse than the baby when they arrive if we did that, right?

Charlie: Babe, I'M going to be crying worse than the baby when they arrive. What's your point?

Vaggie: (sarcastically) Ah, yes. The Morningstar theatrics. How could I have forgotten. (stands up, pulls a second chair over, and sits next to Charlie - gently stroking her hand over the taught skin of her belly) We're gonna have to get you new shirts and pants soon. I'm surprised we haven't had to yet.

Charlie: (groans) Don't remind me! I'm getting fat! ...Aurora?

Vaggie: Not fat, maternal. And not naming a daughter after the most useless Disney Princess. Next..... Santiago? Call him Diego for short?

Charlie: *gasp* How dare you?! Princess Aurora is.... she's..... okay, you got me there. You want to name our son after a saint? And how about Calista? Cali for short?

Vaggie: Ouph... never mind. Scratch that one..... So we go from Salvadorian to Greek names? That one's not so bad. I'm for Cali or Lucy. Rhiannon is on the fence.

Charlie: Okay, possible girl names. Check! You need to come up with one more boy name.

Vaggie: Hmmmm..... (drums her fingers gently against Charlie's belly)

Charlie: (giggles) Vaggie, that tickles.

Vaggie: (smiles) Sorry, hun. Let me see.... Well.... I'm not fully versed in the Bible or anything, but if we wanted to keep the motif of naming them after your folks. How about Samael?

Charlie: Samael? What does that have to do with my parents or the Bible?

Vaggie: Wasn't your dad's name Samael when he was in heaven? He only changed it to Lucifer after he fell???

Charlie: I.... I actually have no idea.

Vaggie: Well, we can name him Samael and call him Sammy for short? It won't be as confusing as calling him Lucifer, and I'm sure your dad will be over the moon having the baby be named after him anyway.

Charlie: (giggles again and swats Vaggie's hand off her belly) Vaggie, stop it! I said that tickles.

Vaggie: .....I didn't do anything.

Charlie: Huh?

Baby: (flutters again)

Charlie: *GASP* (holds her belly) VAGGIE, HOLY SHIT, THE BABY KICKED!!!!

Vaggie: What?! (plasters her hands to Charlie's belly)

..............

Vaggie: Nothing....

Charlie: Hmmmm.... (mental lightbulb turns on) Say the name again!

Vaggie: Samael?

Baby: (little flutter)

Vaggie: ............Sammy?

Baby: (big flutters)

Charlie: (crying quiet happy tears) Okay... Sammy... We got a name. We'll just think of a boy and girl version when they're born.

Vaggie:

[canmom]

Hello! I absolutely love your blog, everything from your festival recounts to animation analysis and programming (one of tumblr's recommended posts was the one where you made your own rasteriser, and I liked your attitude in what I've read so much that I'm gonna attempt to conquer my 3-year-long grudge against using opengl during college and do something similar now that I'm a bit older and have no deadlines :D).

But anyway, I have 2 questions (sorry if there's easily accessible answers, tumblr search is not helping): 1. During your animation nights, does the screen stay black while everyone watches their own video while you provide commentary? I haven't caught any yet but maybe someday! And 2. do you have any youtube channels or just one-off video essays that you like that also cover animation/directors? Or, even programming lol.

Sorry for the long ask have a nice day!

hiii! i'm very touched that you like my dorky eclectic blog <3

For the Animation Nights, I just stream the video over Twitch from local sources on my computer, typically by playing the video in mpv and recording it in OBS. This is obviously not ideal from a video quality perspective, but it's the easiest way to watch video in sync without making everyone download files in advance. Then we all chat in the Twitch chat box (in large part to crack stupid jokes, it's not that highbrow lmao). I've gotten away with it so far!

As for youtube channels, I can recommend...

anime production/history (i.e. sakuga fandom)

SteveM is likely the most sakuga-fan affiliated anituber. He makes long, well-researched and in-depth videos on anime history, usually themed around a particular director or studio.

Pyramid Inu might be my fave anituber - very thoughtful analysis of Gundam, obscure mecha anime and oldschool BL and similar topics. tremendously soothing voice too.

The Canipa Effect does excellent deep dives into the production of specific shows, both western and anime. I appreciate the respect he gives to the Korean animators of shows like AtlA in particular!

Sean Bires's 2013 presentation on sakuga is pretty foundational to this whole subcultural niche, and a great place to get an introduction to the major animator names to know and significant points in the history of anime. unfortunately a couple of the segments got slapped down by copyright but the rest holds up!

animation theory (for animators and aspirants)

I'm going to focus here on resources that are relevant to animation in general, and 2D animation. if I was going to list every Blender channel we'd be here all week :p

New Frame Plus is one of the best channels out there for game animation, describing in tightly edited videos how animation principles work in a game context and analysing the animation of various games. highly recommend

Videogame Animation Study is similar, examining the animation of specific games in detail

the 'twelve principles of animation' (defined by Disney's Ollie Johnston and Frank Thomas) remain the standard approach to animation pedagogy; there are various videos on them, but Alan Becker (of Animator vs Animation) has quite a popular series. I haven't actually watched these but many people swear by them! Dermot O'Connor expands the list to 21. Note that some of the terminology can be a little inconsistent between different animators - c.f. 'secondary motion'...

Dong Chang is an animator at Studio NUT, who produces a lot of fantastic, succinct videos on standard techniques in the anime industry, timesheet notations, etc. etc. Studio Bulldog, a small anime studio, are a good complement; they focus more on douga than genga and are generally a bit more traditional.

programming

big topic here, I'm going to focus on game dev and tech art since that's my field. but also some general compsci stuff that's neat

SimonDev - graphics programmer with a bunch of AAA experience, fantastic explanations of advanced optimisations and some of the more counterintuitive aspects of rendering

Acerola - graphics programmer who makes very detailed guides to a variety of effects with a very rapid and funny 'guy that has seen monogatari' editing style. When he's good, he's really good. His video on water is probably the best one I've seen (though I can recommend a couple of others).

TodePond - the most charming, musical videos about recursion and cellular automata you've ever seen. less programming tutorial and more art in themselves.

Ben Eater - known for his breadboard computer series, a fantastic demonstration of how to go from logic gates up to the 6502 with actual hardware. worth watching just for how clean he puts the wires on his breadboards like goddamn man

Sebastian Lague, Useless Game Dev - both do 'coding adventure' style videos where they spend a few weeks on some project and then document it on Youtube, resulting in a huge library of videos about all sorts of fascinating techniques. great to dive into

Freya Holmér - creator of the 'shapes' library, makes videos on mathematical programming, with gorgeously animated vector graphics. Her video on splines is a particular treat.

There are definitely many more channels I can recommend on these subjects, but I'll need to dig into my history a bit - unfortunately I need to rush out right now, but hopefully that should be good to be getting going with!

[nutterzebutters]

Yk now that we got a taste of shadow milks true intensity due to the new CRK trailer today I think it's safe to say that behavior is exactly why pure vanilla had to go through 12 whole trials, or at least a good damn reason. Knowledge governs the principles of being able to do something, and therefore governs the nature of the virtues, similarly truth governs over the nature of the lights the ancients inherited, bc without it you really can't achieve the true form of these lights; to be in tune enough to actually carry the soul jams.

A jam so powerful that it can fold the mind of a cookie literally baked for it in half and then some, a principal so encompassing that it's only natural for it to be the worst offender when something goes wrong, and the brightest light when things go right. I believe you can also use the word "polarity" and slap "extreme" in front of it and it would fit the description of this seemingly clover shaped gem.

Now I haven't checked the ep 9/10 story as of recent, I'm sure it's since changed, but at a very early point in the runtime of this game dark enchantress cared about that jam the most. The rest were like bonus powers, trophies next to the big one. The light of truth in particular was quoted to be the one that would help her mold the world in her image (which I'm sure is one of the reasons she's reviving the beasts, is if she can't get PVs she might as well try for shadow milks while the beasts help her create that perfect cookie business) and I hope they haven't forgotten about that.

Also would like to add voice acting is done with multiple takes, for the purpose of finding the correct tone, empathsis, what have you. It's one of the reasons games like CRK will go back and work on the story of earlier chapters, and in Odyssey clotted cream purposely empasized that against Holly and cacaos jams, pure vanillas didn't seem to share many common properties other than what made it a soul jam like it's kin, and likely still doesn't share properties with cheeses in any real regularity. Freedom can be arguably like truth and it's interesting to see how these lights tend to reflect their previous natures regardless of the purity process. Even going as far as to select cookies that share the same traits, or are prone to the same mistakes as the beasts, the only difference is that these cookies have the tools, the experience to push through while the beasts really didn't.

I don't actually have any predictions, usually I would. Ik that I would like to see some conflict with wind archer that does NOT prevail or save the day and it does seem likely he's either going to fall, no message sent

He's going to fall, but at least the message is on its way to the others

Or he does get out (which wouldn't make for a very fun plot point tbh)

The trailer for those who haven't gotten to it yet

[justporo]

A Scorching Letter

Brimsterton | A Staevstarion Regency AU

PREVIOUS PART | MASTERLIST | AO3

A/N: Yes hello, I know I haven't posted something I wrote in quite a while. Let's just say I've been busy, but mostly behind the scenes. This however I had written quite a while ago (end of June I think) and I need to get back into the saddle again with posting. So here we are, another trip into Regency AU with @velnna's beloved Staeve (thanks as always for letting me stick him in a costume) and Astarion. Picking off where we left off after the chaise longue incident.

Summary: With a lot mixed feelings after what almost happened between them, a scorching letter is written that reveals genuine truths and brilliant emotions. But the response might not have been what either of them had hoped for...

Pairing: Astarion/Staeve Wordcount: 5,1k Warnings: light implied nsfw

-----

Hands hastily tore open an envelope. On it, in elegant cursive handwriting that couldn’t be mistaken for anyone but Astarion’s, a name was written, boldly and with gold ink even: Staeve Brimstone.

Shivering fingers took several pages from the torn away paper and unfolded them. Immediately, it was visible that the letter had been written with a plethora of intense emotions: some parts seemed barely readable as if the pen had scarcely made its way across the paper in hesitancy. Others were quite obviously written with such vigour, that the sheets were almost torn and stained with blots of ink from a pen that had been pressed too harshly and hastily onto the paper - way too eager to get out the words.

The hands holding onto the letter kept trembling as the letter was studied. It read:

“My dearly beloved Staeve,

It seems we’ve gotten ourselves in quite the compromising position, haven’t we?Apparently, we do have a knack for this kind of thing, don’t you agree? It is nothing new for either of us, truly. How often have we gotten in trouble for something over the years? Quite frankly it might be a big part of the reason why my parents will finally be sending me off to the continent. I figure they fear what two - now grown - young men could get themselves into. And wouldn’t they be right?

A million times have we conspired together. A million plans. A million times it was us against the world. Together.

To our own surprise we haven’t always been discovered. But then again too often than we would have hoped. And yet we have always gotten out of a cornered situation.

This time it is different though.

I take it your sister hasn’t taken notice of what has happened that night. Or it might be that she doesn’t care - I was never able to read her well. And I do not dare to push her on the matter.

What could have happened had we been discovered in that moment? Truly discovered?

But to be quite frank that isn’t what I am concerned with. Not if I am being honest with myself.

You know I am a man of few regrets, Staeve. But I do regret having left like I did that fateful night. My mind kept whispering malicious things to me while my chest was burning, set ablaze by you and your lips. My heart was prepared to scream it all from the rooftops. But yet my anxious mind had me flee like lest we be found out.

But yet my heart keeps burning, the flames impossible to smother. I promise you I’ve tried. Only to find them flickering higher, brighter, hotter, whenever I tried.

And it has been hard to calm it for even just a moment since that fateful night on that chaise longue.

In the end, it has won over my mind even quicker than I thought as I still feel my chest burn with every single beat of my yearning heart. This is what my mind has been toiling with. This and the enticing idea of what would have happened had we not been disturbed, this impossible game of “what if”.

Would we have lost ourselves within each other, unravelled by our hands and touches. Would we have been void of words with only our bodies to speak the yet unspoken? Would we have gone all the way into oblivion together torn and then reformed together. And all to only be unravelled again and again until there had been nothing left but strings?

Strings we might have been able to have knitted into something new, something thoroughly intertwined?

Only the heavens may know.”

The words at the end of this page were thin; anxiously so. The author’s worries and fears clear already by how the words seemed to trail off at the bottom. In hopes perhaps, that they could just be shaken off the page lest they fall on deaf ears.

The next fresh page though started with bold writing again, even bolder than before. The written words proud, tall and unashamed:

“But I do know this: at night I lay unable to sleep with that blistering desire inside of me, slowly scorching me from the inside out. And when the heat becomes near unbearable, I lay there with nothing but the moon as a witness, touching myself while imagining - hoping - it was you. My hands wandering down over my own body and finding pleasure so easily and quickly - so intense - as they stroke and caress. Simply because it is you in my mind. The thought of you nearly enough to lose myself time and again.

I know I am a sinner for this, for my thoughts and my actions. But could a sin truly feel this heavenly? If this is what hell feels like, I will let it take me, gladly. I would welcome doom with open arms for just my actions, but truly, I’d much rather be doomed together with you, Staeve.

The feeling of your mouth on mine has been imprinted on me. I cannot forget it. I will die with the memory of your soft lips on mine on my mind as the last breath leaves my earthly body.

You've touched me a thousand times - a hug, a tap, a taunt - but not like this. Never like this. Not with that enticing intention, not with that need: giving, pleasing but also taking -  possibly all of me. And if I’m being true and honest to myself: I would give you all of myself - body, mind and soul. You may take it all!

Do you feel the same? Because even writing this letter I feel how restless my fingers are, how they itch to touch you again as well, how they need to feel you again: your lithe body, the skin of your face, your silken hair.

I just want to feel the warmth of you again, enveloping me, your body moving against mine as we fall together, endlessly.

And when your hands know me by heart, I want to feel your mouth all over my skin, tasting me before swallowing my confessions to you directly from my very own lips and tongue.

I want you to know me as deeply as no one has before. I fear no one else could ever understand me like you do anyways. And I hope, dearly, this is what you want too. I surely know it’s what I want with you: knowing you inside and out, better than myself.

Back in that moment it surely felt like that.

But memories are fleeting, fickle little things. Already I am questioning if I really saw the same yearning in your eyes I keep feeling in my very soul. But then again, it's not like this only transpired yesterday, hasn't it? Hasn’t this all been brewing for what feels like an eternity?”

Up until this paragraph the writing had been bold, the elegant cursive letters leaning so far it was easily distinguishable that they had been written without pause. Words that had  been too powerful to not let out.

But those next ones were more hesitant again. The pen had been pressed down to start many a time and then hastily taken off again, judging by how several blots and scratches of ink clouded the first letter of the next sentence.

But in the end even these words had found their way - either way:

“I reckon you know the feeling in the atmosphere before a thunderstorm approaches - when the tension is so dense it makes your hairs rise up. When the whole world seems to hold its breath, awaiting the inevitable.

Aren’t we just like that? Awaiting what deep down we have known for so long?

Aren’t we inevitable?

How long have we been like this? In that terrible limbo of potential and not yet made resolution?

Only for it to unload in but a blink of an eye, lightning hitting us both, scorching us through and through, down to our furthest depths - setting us brightly ablaze where light has never even reached before.

There is no way in which we could ever proceed, pretending as if we both haven’t been changed forever in this moment, changed at our innermost core - wouldn’t you agree?

At times I fear that all it would have taken was that one night. One night of scorching flames to then see the fire smothered. This - us - nothing but a quick intermezzo, a short crescendo that is quickly muffled and not to be heard again.

But whenever I think I’ve forgotten about this, about you, for a just moment, there it is again: the thought of you, impossible to get out of my head.

You are always there with me, Staeve, with every breath and every step.

You didn’t just light a candle inside of me, you started a wildfire.

And I welcome it - with all the heat, all the power, all the destruction it might bring but also the all encompassing warmth it might spend. I welcome it to be consumed by it!”

Before the final words of the letter there was generous space left. Quite obviously the author felt the need to let his final words take up room. The final conclusion to the letter read:

“I am in love with you, Staeve Brimstone.

I am in love with you - and looking back it feels like I have always been in love with you. From the moment I first laid eyes upon you up to the my last moments on this earth.

And even more than that: I need you. I fear I cannot live without you.

And even though it might be selfish - but we both know that I am -: I hope you need me too.

I hope to love you, Staeve, forevermore. And if I’m fortunate enough, that you will love me too.

Forever yours,

Astarion”

As eyes ran over the last page, the hands holding the letter had begun to tremble. They were gripping the paper so hard by now that knuckles showed white.

Then when the end had been reached they were shaking so much no word could have been made out anymore. The grip was crinkling up the paper now. Up until the pages were deliberately being crumpled angrily, pressed into a ball of paper, letters and emotions alike forced into an indiscernible mess.

With a few steps only, the way was made to the lit fireplace and the pages were given to the flames. The fire eagerly licked at the papers, ate it up until there was nothing left of the words and the long suppressed feelings they had finally expressed.

~~~

The Brimstone family had sat down for dinner. Or at least for their approximation of it. Viscount and Viscountess Brimstone were idly enjoying their dinner talking a bit of business, politics and gossip. Meanwhile, their son Staeve was more enticed by the workings of a small golden mechanical beetle his father had brought him as a souvenir from one of his business trips than by the meagre meal of roasted pork and vegetables he’d thrown onto his plate as more of an afterthought. The sleeves of his white linen shirt were rolled up to his elbows as he had discarded his doublet long ago to be able to move better and one of his suspenders threatened to give up on its job as it was dropping off his shoulder in his hunched over position. He had wholly reengineered what dinner time meant for him, much to the grievance of his parents. But dozens of tries to change first the boy’s and then the young man’s behaviour had failed. So at some point they had given up as long as he knew to behave when guests were over and was still honouring the family gathering times.

That usually meant that he was at least present during family dinner times, physically at least. But he’d only eat later, once it had all gotten cold. And then would sneak into the kitchen to grab seconds when he would have realised once more that tinkering around didn’t sate his bodily hunger. At least not enough.

His mother had long given up on trying to teach Staeve manners. When he had been a child she had been sure he would grow out of it. But once she had realised that his quirks had only been growing with him, she’d come to realise that it was for the best to just leave him be and hope for the best.

Only occasionally did she still try to enforce his older sister Nita as a role model to him. It never worked.

So, as Staeve was fumbling with his current project and his parents were lost in conversation, his sister Nita - void of any option to make dinner time pass any faster with her parents talking and her brother with his mind elsewhere - moved around some asparagus on her gold rimmed plate and wished she could’ve found an excuse to go eat with her younger siblings in the kitchen. Even they would have been a more ample entertainment discussing their playtime or perhaps their current tutor lessons.

That was until she thought of a way of hopefully grabbing Staeve’s attention for more than a fleeting moment.

“So, Staeve, have you found something to do yet, something to cope?”

Her brother’s tuft of green hair lifted shortly from where it had been bent over the small, intricately built beetle and some similarly delicate tool with which Staeve meant to dismantle the small object - thereby probably irreparably destroying it.

But the younger Brimstone shortly looked at his sister in irritation. Then his gaze snapped back to his hands and his workings and he began tinkering again.

“What?”

Nita rolled her eyes. “You know you are supposed to use full sentences, right?”

“Whoever has the time for that?”

“Ah see, he does speak in full sentences.”

Staeve grunted at his sister’s sarcasm but didn’t reward her with another glance.

Nita tried again.

“So have you?”

“I don’t think that was a full sentence.”

She was about ready to throw her fork at him, hoping it would drive the audacity right out of him - or at least take an eye. For a moment she debated just letting the silence draw out. But honestly she hadn’t been the one starting to be petty.

“You know, Staeve, I really get why even Astarion has decided to suddenly leave town when you’re being such a prick!” Nita almost shouted. That even had caught her parents’ attention now who immediately scolded her for her unladylike demeanour and choice of words.

She pouted, annoyed at how she had been the one being called out now instead of her brother.

And when she turned her head around again to throw him an angry glare she suddenly found she had finally caught his attention. Maybe even a bit too much of it because Staeve was now staring at her, eyes wide, face void of colour.

“What do you mean Astarion is leaving?”

Nita was about to snap at him again. But something in her brother’s gaze and his sudden stillness made her abandon the thought immediately.

“Didn’t- didn’t he tell you? I thought you always knew everything about each other.”

Immediately hurt flashed through Staeve’s teal eyes, too irritated to even try to hide it.

“Leaving when? Why?” Staeve’s voice was nothing more but a croak. A strand of hair had fallen into his eyes. He didn’t even bother pushing it out of his face.

Suddenly Nita felt unsure of what to do. Unsettled by her brother’s sudden burst of emotions. The only thing she came up with was snapping at him again.

“The Grand Tour, you idiot, what else.”

Staeve’s eyes widened even more. He set the small golden beetle and his tool down with a distinct thud, so hard, it even made their parents become silent and turn to their children in irritation.

“When?” Staeve simply followed up again. His words were terribly silent all of a sudden. Nita didn’t have it in her anymore to try and purposefully try and upset her brother. She threw a glance at the big mechanical clock - one of the few Staeve hadn’t disassembled yet: “I think right about now. They’re probably going to travel all through the night to catch a ship in the morning at one of the great harbours.”

Staeve didn’t wait for Nita to finish her sentence. He jumped up, almost making his chair fall over, staring at the clock. Their parents’ heads swivelled around trying to understand the cause of the commotion. But their son was already storming out of the room, not even sparing their scolding and quizzical looks another thought.

Immediately, Staeve made his way through the manor and down to the stables. As he rushed along servants, through a plethora of rooms and finally got outside, he realised that the weather was about to turn: an early summer evening threatening to bring a foreshadowing of yet far away autumn. The oncoming storm, announcing itself with distant thunder and dramatically darkening clouds, though, only felt like a fitting backdrop for what was brewing inside of him.

Questions filled Staeve’s mind as he made his way, and worries - and memories.

Every moment for the last couple of weeks since that fateful night had he basically been thinking about what happened. It only ever took him a split second to conjure up the scene again in his head: the last couple of breaths in which he had stared into Astarion’s eyes and how it had felt like he could see through them right to the bottom of his friend’s heart, the burning feeling of Astarion’s lips against his own and this desiring ache within him, physically and emotionally, threatening to rip him apart from the inside out.

He had been so sure Astarion had felt the same. And hadn’t his friend been the one looking up at him with such pleading in his crimson eyes, lips already parted in anticipation before they had met halfway?

But maybe Staeve was remembering it all wrong. He certainly must be. Why else would his lifelong companion leave him now unannounced?

Loads of feelings were forming up inside his chest, waiting to burst - like thunder after lightning had struck in the far off distance.

Staeve made his way to the stables to grab Freckle while his mind was somewhere completely else. He didn’t even stop to put a saddle or reins on her. A terrible premonition told him he hadn’t any time to waste. And the mare was used to being ridden like this, after all they were a well-practised team.

The young Brimstone led his horse outside and immediately felt raindrops seeping through his thin linen shirt and trousers. He couldn’t have cared less. Wasting no more time he jumped onto his mare’s back and with a click of his tongue and soft nudge from his boots they were off in a dash, cutting through the oncoming rain.

As Staeve thundered down the small trodden out road from the Brimstone estate towards the Ancuníns’ residence the rain turned from just a trickle to a pour - the kind that would turn grasslands into swamps for a good while after and dust roads into murky rivers. His mind was racing at an even more outrageous speed as the gigantic manor of his friend’s family came into view.

Lifting his head while holding onto Freckle’s mane as the horse felt his owner’s urgency and gave him her all, Staeve searched for the familiar sight of that one particular window with a light on inside, hoping it would betray his sister’s words. The one where Astarion often already had been peeking out of in wait for his companion to come by. The one where they had sat countless of times, talking, laughing, smoking some stolen cigars and choking on the burning smoke when they had been only boys.

But the lights were off.

And Staeve’s fears turned into all encompassing panic as he closed in on the giant building as he didn’t dare to let himself hope anymore. The rain around him had him fully drenched by now, his loose shirt clinging wetly to his body. Already he felt hot tears adding to the uncomfortably cold rain running down his face.

When he finally came around the manor, he found nothing but an ill-fated stable hand rushing through the downpour, perhaps tasked with a few last things before being allowed to flee the bad weather. Not even hesitating Staeve rode up right next to him making the poor boy shriek and stumble back from the horse making the gravel fly with a sliding stop.

“Astarion Ancunín?” he only managed to scream against the rain.

The boy just stared up at him, obviously too startled at the sight of Staeve like this. He probably looked like a madman. And he felt like one: not properly dressed, drenched to the bone on his equally aggregated steed. Even more so the more time he spent chasing down a man in this storm who so obviously tried to get away from him without him knowing.

But he needed to see him, at least a final time. One more try.

“The Duke’s son?” Staeve shouted again at the stable hand. And finally the boy seemed to have recovered from his stupor.

“Left. With his father the Duke, in the fancy carriage,” the answer came back, shouted against another thunder in the distance - the heart of the storm was coming closer.

Staeve’s chest clenched. Freckle became nervous beneath him. Even a well trained horse like her didn’t want to be out longer than needed in this weather. But just a moment more.

“When?” he screamed.

“Dunno exactly, couple of minutes, just when the storm started.”

Staeve needn’t hear more. Time was of the essence now. He spurred on his horse once more and left the befuddled boy behind who even forgot to finally rush inside and instead stared after Staeve racing off again.

The roads were already muddy, an endless amount of puddles strewn across them while Staeve made the decision to go for the hill overlooking the Ancunín lands, the one with the weeping willow. There he’d be able to see how far out they were already on the country road leading away from town.

But when he arrived at the foot of said hill and dashed on with Freckle, his horse slipped and almost took a tumble. And since his or his horse’s broken neck surely wouldn’t make him be any faster, Staeve slid off his mare’s back and continued on foot.

The rain kept pouring onto him as he rushed up the hill, his booted feet sinking into the wet ground. Several times he almost took a tumble when his boots sank in too deep. Illustrious curses that would have made his mother blush and his father scold him, left Staeve’s lips as he ran up the grassy hill as fast as possible, barely able to see anything anymore with the rain slashing his face. He didn’t even notice how the freezing cold crept into his body, his limbs, how his fingers began to become stiff. His whole body was shaking, as much from the cold and the wet, as from the feelings still burning inside his chest - the only thing still spending a bit of warmth.

Staeve reached the top of the hill and the weeping willow atop of it - honouring its name as rain kept dripping generously off its tendrils. Trying to wipe at least some of the rain out of his face and panting heavily from running, Staeve’s eyes flew along the road leading out of town, willing the carriage to be there, so he’d know he could still catch them. Or at least a glimpse, of him. To at least wave a last goodbye. Because he didn’t know when - if - his friend would ever return.

And he spotted the carriage. Right there, at the very end of what Staeve could make out. Just before it disappeared around a final turn of the road - and out of sight.

~~~

Inside the carriage Astarion was craning his neck only a little to see Ancunín manor slowly disappear behind the lazily sloping hills of the countryside as the wagon rattled along the road leading away from town. Now the ancient weeping willow was the last familiar landmark before the road would lead them along faceless fields and forests rushing past them, only there to be forgotten again in an instance. The storm was doing its part to make Astarion’s last impression of his home even more dull: clouds and the rain almost washing all of the colours out of this final sight.

This might very well have been the only time in his life when his heart actually ached at the thought of leaving home - or rather him.

Only a few weeks ago had he hoped to spend an incredible last summer with Staeve, his childhood friend. Especially as he had been sure of something new budding between them, something that could have meant them being more than companions possibly. Something that either might have been honestly terrified to explore. They could have gone down this road together.

But it seemed that instead of choosing this final adventure and what treasures and secrets might have been ahead, Staeve had chosen utter and complete silence. To his letter as much as his departure. Astarion had been unable to figure out what to make of it.

However, wasn’t the absence of an answer a response of its own?

Questions, regrets, fear and hurt were all swirling around inside of Astarion’s chest as he feigned indifference staring out the small window the rain kept drumming on. He was covering most of his face with his hand turned away from the other passenger in hopes it would make him look bored and hide his frown - and more than anything, the tears burning dangerously in the corners of his eyes.

Writing that letter, taking a leap of faith had taken nearly all of his courage.

When that kiss had happened after that invaded soiree, it had been easy. Fueled by the evening, laughter and lots of liquid courage it had been easy to fall into Staeve’s arms. It had been easy to be open about what had been building up inside of him for so long.

But writing this letter stone cold sober had been near impossible: opening up about everything that, all his life, he had been taught to keep hidden behind his orderly closed button border, tugged away behind a starched collar closed so firmly it made one choke. Admitting to desires that would make him a wretched sinner in the eyes of his family and society. And finally confessing his feelings to his lifelong friend, risking everything they’ve had. It had been taxing, hard, painful.

And in the end, apparently, he had paid the price.

In front of him, the Duke Ancunín kept talking about their travelling plans while Astarion could feel his heart get torn into pieces the further away from home they travelled. A piece of it begging to be allowed to stay.

“Son, it is a great honour that Monsignore Constantin will take you in for a few extra weeks as his disciple. He is very strict but he is the best,” the Duke repeated his words in a sharper tone when he noticed his son not paying attention. “He will make an upright man out of you, Astarion, I know it.”

“Oh, will he? I can barely wait,” Astarion replied with bitter sarcasm in his voice. His father, in response, was near boiling with anger at his son’s insolent behaviour.

“He has his methods, son, you will see. He will let none of your nonsense slip, I will make sure of it!” The Duke’s words cracked like a whip. But the young man didn’t care, his eyes were still trained on the outside, on the weeping willow becoming smaller in the distance. He didn’t honour his father’s wrath with another response.

The carriage filled with nothing but the sound of drumming rain and thunder rolling ever closer. When the older Ancunín apparently realised his anger would get him nowhere he tried a different route of grasping his son’s attention.

“Hasn’t the young Brimstone come to say his goodbyes to you, my son? Is that why you keep brooding?”

Astarion’s gaze snapped to his father, immediately betraying that he had spoken the truth. He felt how his brows drew together as pain flared up in his chest even more. Trying to get it back under control quickly he looked back outside the window as the carriage shook along the road in worsening conditions.

But his father had cracked right open what had been bothering him and finally Astarion gave up on trying to hide. What did it matter now anyways? The cards had been dealt.

The young Ancunín let his hands fall into his lap but kept looking outside as he felt how the tears in his eyes threatened to become overbearing.

“He hasn’t actually,” Astarion admitted. “In fact, I haven’t seen him in a few weeks. Not since I’ve sent him a letter a while ago,” he continued, voice flat and emotionless.

“A letter? How uncommon for the two of you,” the Duke threw in with a tinge of irony coating his words like bile. In a knee jerk reaction Astarion’s crimson gaze burned in anger at his father’s vile words. But in the end he wasn’t wrong. The young noble resorted to throwing a last glance upon the willow up on the hill.

“Come to think of it though, my son, I do remember seeing the letter,” the Duke rambled on. “And I remember handing it over to the butler so it may get delivered quickly.” Astarion turned away a little further once more from his father as he felt his composure threatening to break fully. “A difference of opinions maybe?,” his father finished.

Astarion didn’t see the slight tilt of the corners of his father’s mouth as he let the words roll off his tongue, not hiding his distaste for the young Brimstone.

The young Ancunín only could feel the final nail being put into the coffin with his father’s final words. His last string of hope he had been holding onto snapped in two just like that.

“Possibly,” Astarion simply replied, kneading his hands in his lap, emotions threatening to overwhelm him fully.

“Maybe even more than that,” he added after a while as he finally let his gaze fall from the last sight of his hometown.

Had he averted his eyes just a moment later he would have made out the figure of a dark-skinned, green-haired young man appearing beneath the weeping willow in the storm. But like this, thunder cracked as the carriage took a turn and Astarion’s home and his lifelong friend went out of sight.

[grape-jucie-dog]

If you saw a post from me, no you didn't.

ANYWAYS, I THINK I FINALLY HAVE A MOTIF FOR ZEUS' ACTIONS IN THIS NAMELESS AU THING—

Originally, I was just gonna have it that it's been a full 11 or 12 years since Athena has seen Odysseus, and that after God Games she wasn't able to see the family for another 2 years (after Odysseus returns home), but I felt it was too similar to Fighting to be Loved, so I ended up scrapping that, except that it's been 2 years since Odysseus had been home and that's when he sees Athena again.

I was then thinking that maybe Athena pissed Zeus off in God Games to the point he does what he does in this AU (Which, if you haven't guessed, basically removes her wings by tearing them off Vaggie style), but I couldn't think of what the hell Athena could've done, and it wouldn't make sense for Zeus to release Odysseus if she had done something so drastic. I haven't COMPLETELY scrapped this idea, but it's a big maybe if I want to tie it in with the next idea I'm definitely going with.

NOW THIS. I'M DEFINITELY GOING WITH THIS:

So obviously, we know it was Hermes to deliver the news of Ody's release to Calypso. BUT. What if it wasn't just Hermes? What if Athena went along with him? Or better yet, what if they both went behind Zeus' back? Athena, the perfect golden child of Zeus, going behind her king's back just for some mortal? Imagine if even HERMES, the trickster god, is telling her how bad of an idea this is? He's seen what Zeus did to her in God Games, not to mention he's faced his anger before. Maybe not to the extent Athena did, but it's enough for him to say "Hey, maybe we shouldn't be doing this-"

What if Athena stole the windbag from Aeolus? Or she convinced Hermes to get it from them, and that's why Hermes in Dangerous says "We went through so much to get this."

AND. There's perfect angst potential here. Hermes believing that it was his fault that Athena is hurt to such an insane point. Odysseus thinks it's HIS fault that Athena turned to recklessness to set him free. Maybe Hermes also gets hurt in the progress, and it makes Athena spiral even further, making her truly believe everything that's happened was her fault. If she hadn't left Odysseus all those years ago, no one would've gotten hurt. Telemachus would've gotten to know his father, Penelope wouldn't have been swarmed with suitors, Odysseus would've gotten home, Hermes wouldn't be injured.

Maybe Zeus uses her spiraling as an even further advantage.

This AU is still very shaky, and low-key poorly thrown together, but I think it's gonna come together. Hopefully—

[animatedjen]

What's some stuff you're really hoping to see in Jedi 3 (either narratively or gameplay wise)?

Oh I'm so glad you asked this 🙌 Because I have THOUGHTS.

Gonna put everything under the cut so this doesn't clog up the feed with a wall of text (whoops.) Some of these ideas I hope to create concept art for, after I replace/fix my very cranky thirteen-year-old tablet. Anyway let’s start with gameplay!

Gameplay!

Maintaining Cal's abilities: Survivor handled this beautifully by keeping many of the skills learned in Fallen Order, instead of undoing Cal's growth from the first game. I think it'll be trickier to keep this momentum into Jedi 3 (the skill tree has gotten so large!) but story reasons could push Cal towards new types of abilities instead of bloating the current options.

More synergy between the lightsaber stances: I like all the stances in Survivor and it'd be A) disappointing to lose any of them, but B) overwhelming to add MORE combat styles. Being able to flow between the stances more fluidly would be fun though, with specific combos unlocked depending on which two are active together. Now if Merrin lets Cal borrow her knife-staff and he puts his lightsaber on the end... MAGICK SABER PIKE GO.

New or adapted movement mechanics: Maybe the ascension cable is replaced with a force ability (Force Ascend or Force Leap for an extra vertical boost?) or is "upgraded" to connect between two anchors, letting Cal create his own temporary ziplines.

Replayable missions: This could be explained in-game with a Force Tear or Cal's own interactive echoes. But I'd love the option to experience story missions and boss fights again post-game.

Customization!

This is a bonus section because Merrin should get new outfits. Haven't decided how to make it part of gameplay yet, stay tuned.

Cal's cosmetics in Survivor are mostly cool, some just funny, but overall a huge improvement from Fallen Order (yes, even though we miss all the poncho designs). For Jedi 3 I'd love to see more story-centric cosmetics that tie into the communities and people Cal has met along his journey. A Legacy outfit (incorporating pieces from his three Jedi masters), an Anchorite-inspired outfit (with arm tattoos), a bounty hunter outfit (the prize after defeating the Brood), etc. Maybe a Bogling outfit? No not made from Boglings; it looks like a Bogling. Hang on lemme fix my tablet—

Narrative + Gameplay!

Explore Tanalorr: Right now this sparkly, strong-in-the-Force, temple-carved planet is a huge mystery box for Jedi 3. There's a few directions it could go - more High Republic history, another civilization (the Nihil? someone new?) lurking in the shadows, or Force-related secrets hiding below the surface. Each Jedi game has followed Cal's exploration of an ancient culture, and I think Tanalorr can be a focal point in that journey.

Defeat Sorc Tormo and the Haxion Brood: I mentioned this in an ask earlier this week, but I so want a resolution to this fight against the Brood. Especially since roaming bounty hunters would threaten the Hidden Path. Maybe Cal breaks back into Ordo Eris, or hunts down Sorc Tormo on another planet. Maybe there's a Force-only stealth section?? Maybe a big multi-wave boss fight? Maybe Caij is there??? (no she doesn't get an invite to Tanalorr)

Dark Side Force Slow: The fact that Cal's Force Slow ability kept its red-stained aura, even in the Survivor post-game, is great. I love lasting consequences and ludonarrative harmony, yes yes yes. Really hope this isn't fully resolved by the start of Jedi 3 (potential timeskip makes it tricky but whatever) and the ability receives some sort of healing through Cal finding his way out of the darkness.

Narrative!

Timeskip?: I vote no, but I think Jedi 3 will vote yes, likely to age up Kata and allow Tanalorr to be more developed. But that also means Cal and the Mantis Crew goes through character development without us (boo) or remains emotionally stunted until we get there (also boo?). I'm more comfortable with the five year gap between FO and Survivor than I used to be though, despite "missing out" on big character moments, so maybe it'll be okay. Maybe. 👀

The Hidden Path builds a home on Tanalorr: This works until it doesn't, whether from outside pressure or the threat of a spy within. I don't think Bode's fears should necessarily be validated, but I do think the risk will keep Cal on edge and hurt his ability to trust (both others and himself.) It'll drive decisions that strain his relationships and be a source of conflict for part of the game.

The Mantis gets semi-retired and then reinstated: I just love the mental picture of the Mantis parked somewhere cozy and decorated with cloth and lights and a hideout for Kata. It's become too small and high profile to use for gathering the Path, but when the plot gets going, they're gonna need her back in action.

Three main antagonists: The Empire, an unrelated third-party with their own goals (Nihil or someone else), and Cal's own demons. The first two drive the external conflict, the third drives Cal's inner conflict and the story's themes. More on that at the end.

A memorial garden: It's designed by Pili and filled with native Tanalorrian plants and trees, from which the Anchorites hang cords and windchimes and bits of colored glass. Cere's saber was buried beneath the largest tree. Cal plays her hallikset here when he's too troubled to meditate. If we want to be mean, this place gets damaged during a battle in Act 3. If we want to be less mean, this is the place that doesn't get damaged during a battle.

Kata has some sort of student-teacher relationship with Cal: I'm torn on her being Force sensitive: this is a story about Jedi and "guide her through the darkness" is pretty telling given Cal's own darkness at the end of Survivor. But Cal helping Kata (and Kata helping Cal) can happen regardless of her Force sensitivity - it would just look different. This is a soft answer because I'm still exploring ideas around it BUT admittedly the angst levels would be higher if she is sensitive.

A battle against the shadow self: Look this one is cliche. I don't care. I want a huge cavern in the depths of Tanalorr where Cal gets to fight a dark version of himself that switches between all his former enemies. If we're making a video game here let's physically beat up our darkness. Let's have it not work. Let's bring Cal to rock bottom to remind him that he is more than his darkness and he doesn't have to do this alone. Let's go back to that same fight later and then we finally win.

There's more to explore story-wise and I will eventually, but I'm overall not concerned about Jedi 3's narrative. Respawn has been very intentional with their writing of Cal Kestis and the Jedi series so far (despite some last minute changes to Survivor) and I love this character and this story because of all the great work they've created. I really hope they finish this journey the way they want to. That being said—

How should Jedi 3 end? Should Cal die?

No: I'll argue Cal dying at the end of the trilogy completely undermines the entire lesson of Survivor.

Cal wouldn't stop fighting the Empire: The Cal we meet at the beginning of Survivor definitely wouldn't. That Cal also watched countless friends die to that same fight and saw two different Jedi fall to their passions-turned-obsessions that led them to the dark side. He may wrestle with remnant obligation or a bitter apathy, but he's definitely not as single-minded as he was before.

Cal would sacrifice himself to save the Path: Yeah, he probably would. Cere did exactly that during the Siege of Jedha when all else failed. But maybe the Path could be protected without Cal needing to be a Weapon - a lesson Cere also wanted him to learn.

Another way: I think the Koboh abyss (that separates Tanalorr from the rest of the galaxy) could be destroyed. I don't know if Cal would choose to destroy it, but I think the Empire would: if they can't reach Tanalorr it's the next best thing.

Now Cal has to make a choice: Leave (continuing the fight alone) or Stay (shepherding the Path for an unknown future.) It doesn't mean they never find a way back to the known galaxy, but it'll take time. Enough time for a New Hope to appear.

Whatever your opinion of the Sequel Trilogy, the line: "That’s how we’re gonna win. Not fighting what we hate. Saving what we love." is not only a complete thesis of Star Wars, but fits really well with Cal's journey. He's become very good at fighting. He wants to save everyone in Fallen Order, and he can't. He still wants to save everyone in Survivor, and they refuse him. His Fight has made a difference (again, Cere says as much) but it's clear this can't be Cal's final answer.

Choosing to protect the Path, choosing to trust the Force, choosing a home. That's what he's been fighting for. I love Cal Kestis because he isn't the chosen one and he isn't going to save the galaxy. But for his family and his community, he saved their galaxy. It's cheesy but I don't care, and you know Greez and BD would agree with me.

-

Okay this got so, so much longer than I expected. Bonus points if you made it all the way down here haha. I've had a weird assortment of concepts and ideas over the past year but never wrote them down in one place - until now. I've said it before but part of my hyperfixation with the Jedi series is because it isn't finished yet and Survivor ends on such a gut-wrenching cliffhanger. Whatever happens to this series, I'm slowly finding some sort of catharsis through all the edits and photomode shots and half-baked concepts. Thanks for tagging along ✌️