#at which point you pick another random piece and start all over again

[flash-from-the-past]

Are You Ready for the Hardest Jigsaw Puzzle in the World?

[vitaminseetarot]

PAC: Random Messages You May Need 🌈🎆⛅

Sup, y'all. I'm finally back for another pick a card reading. I really apologize if folks have not heard from me over the past month, I meant to get this reading (among other things) out a while ago. I have not been able to touch tarot for the past few weeks. Life has been… topsy turvy, to say the least. Heh heh. [sweating profusely]

I meant to have another game out and to have paid readings available by now--that is still part of the plan. What was meant for June will be in July. So this blog might go from 0 to 100 mph real soon, to move along with plans as intended!

I was loosely inspired by the Baker pride flag from 1978 for this group selection. These piles are pretty nondescript: each one contains a random message that may resonate with you. Pick based on whichever color of the Prism Oracle speaks to you most, and feel free to choose more than one. Take only what resonates.

Pile 1 - Strength (Red) Pile 2 - Happiness (Orange) Pile 3 - Illumination (Yellow) Pile 4 - Movement (Green) Pile 5 - Flow (Turquoise) Pile 6 - Trust (Blue) Pile 7 - Intuition (Violet) Pile 8 - Love (Pink)

Pile 1 - Strength (Red)

10 of Swords, Insight

You've been asked by the universe to put up with a lot, especially recently. You're reaching a finish line of a very long and brutal marathon. There have been too many times where you questioned whether or not to throw in the towel. If you have, you may also have questioned whether or not it was the correct choice. Sometimes, things don't work out, and it's better to move on. It can be difficult to hold everything up when one thing after another seems to fall apart at the seams, but either way you're being reminded of the light at the end of this long and turbulent tunnel.

Collect yourself, pick up what pieces you can. Time has shifted everything, but the essentials still stand. Gather the wisdom you have learned from this ordeal. There is still beauty to be found in the decay, glittering gems in the rough.

Maybe you don't want to get stronger. Healing may feel like a better option than grinding for difficult experience points. Give yourself the rest and repair you need. Let go of only that which is keeping you from starting again, but you don't need to throw the baby out with the bathwater. You've gained so much wisdom and strength, this trial wasn't without gain. Treasure it and begin anew.

Pile 2 - Happiness (Orange)

2 of Swords, Clarity

Whatever answers you seek are coming to you. Or perhaps they've already arrived; open your eyes and see for yourself. You may be wondering which path will satisfy you more. The process of reconciling this could take forever unless you lean on your gut here. This can't be decided based on intellect alone, for you could get stuck mulling it over for days. Imagining all the different possible outcomes could be taxing for your brain, so narrow it down. Eliminate the weakest links and home in on what excites you. It should feel like an "aha, yes!"

If you cannot see the answer right away, go within to the realm of imagination. Feel your way through. Visualize not just with sight but with yearning. Does the light of the sun make you feel hopeful? Does the cool rain make you feel relaxed? Would an art class expand your capacity to imagine many things, or would taking a science class?

The X mark in 2 of Swords is like a railroad crossing sign. Redirect that train of thought into brighter and more positive avenues of expression. Say "what if" as if you can't wait for something to happen. "What if I saw a shooting star tonight? What if my cute neighbor asked me out?" Let the future shine its beacon for you. It will all make sense in due time.

Pile 3 - Illumination (Yellow)

Ace of Cups, Reconciliation

Have you been staying up way too late trying to figure everything out? Please give yourself a brain curfew: no problem solving or saving the day after 10 pm! I'm getting that you may tend to ruminate on the same strong emotions. For some I'm getting that there is a crush here. There's inconsistent text messaging. I know it's easy to get too nervous about their reply, but try to wait until at least the next day to hear back. They may need time to formulate their words right. They may not even see your message straight away. Take it all in stride and sleep on it; if they want to reach out to you, then they eventually will.

For others in this pile, you may be going through a rough patch with another person right now and could be wondering how things will pan out. Give them time to respond, they could still be processing it. Stay on the more positive end of things with the idea that things will work themselves out. I feel like if you can manage this in a relaxed and non hurried way, the knot will untangle easily. The coffee in the Ace of Cups is very hot, so give it a chance to cool.

There is opportunity in your near future to make up for something that went awry due to a miscommunication error. You may get a chance to make up for a test, appointment, or an interview. You will receive grace for any mishaps. Remember that tomorrow won't necessarily be the same as today, so cherish both the good you have now along with the good that soon awaits you.

Pile 4 - Movement (Green)

IX Hermit, Devotion

Looks like things are progressing faster than you even thought they would. You may be blinking your eyes in partial disbelief: could this ball really be rolling? Indeed, thanks to your efforts, goals are being met and results are more evident by the day. You eschewed a lot of distractions to make this work, so give yourself a pat on the back for the level of commitment you put into it. Some of you in this pile may have just graduated, if so then congratulations! But try not to get too comfortable with your laurels, for you have a long road ahead of you in whatever you do next. This one completion is the start of many.

Does that thrill you? If so, wonderful! On the other hand, some of you may be feeling uncertain about continuing. You may be reviewing your options to see if this really is worth pursuing. Something that requires a lot of dedication and focus on it to the exclusion of all else… yeah, I can see how that can get tiring after a long time. There are folks who can get their Master's right after their Bachelor's, or have another child right after the first, but people can also happily move on to what feels more right for them instead.

It's okay to stop and assess your tracks if necessary. Taking time off is not the same as quitting. It's not losing motivation, it's recovering it. This is your passion and your discipline, not anyone else's. If you need to give other parts of your life more room to breathe, then do so with the confidence that your great work will wait for you.

Pile 5 - Flow (Turquoise)

4 of Wands, Hospitality

Have you been stuck with something for a while? There's a strong sense of a blockage that is being eroded away over time. This process can be sped up by allowing the ice to thaw a little more. "Break the ice." You may be wanting to open up and spend more quality time with other people but don't know how. Or you could be faced with meeting new people and being nervous about interacting with them. Even more so if they're roommates. A few people in this pile could be moving or have just moved. This is a chance to ease up and get to know new people.

This blockage could be a result of the past and of anxiety. The sound of a turning doorknob just jumpscared me as I typed the last sentence. You may benefit from learning about social anxiety and how to manage it. It's not an overnight job for you to fix this, though, but to just be aware of it and not allow it to get in the way of positive change in your life.

If you're struggling to figure out how to deal with meeting new people, I would suggest looking up videos or how-tos on social interaction, especially if a certain etiquette is required for an event. Learn about conversation starters and fun things you could do together like hosting a game night. Practice makes perfect, and over time the blockage will melt into the stream.

Pile 6 - Trust (Blue)

3 of Swords, Conversion

You have a very soft and tender outlook on life, which makes it all the more painful when reality doesn't conform to such a compassionate vision. It doesn't always try to respond to vulnerability in appropriate ways. Much of the time, this isn't from natural events as much as it stems from the ways in which people can treat one another cruelly. You've had some toxic people in your life who have put you through the wringer and attempted to squeeze every ounce of kindness they could from you. Making light of this pain to them only resulted in further deflection and antagonism on their part. The only outcome was to salvage whatever you could and pray for the best.

It is not your job to change their closed minded perspectives. They're on their own, here. Do not concern yourself with their messy inner world and lose any more of your energy. Also, do not attempt to regain what energy has been lost through bargaining either, as much as it hurts to press onward without looking back. You will recover, but you have to move on first and prioritize what you deeply care about most (you included).

There will come a time when your heart will be healed so you can see the brighter side of human connection again. All the beauty that your gentle soul is seeking is still there, shrouded by layers of protective petals that will one day bloom again and your life will truly flourish. For now, this is a time to give yourself all the comfort you can.

Pile 7 - Intuition (Violet)

XII Hanged Man, Spring

I get the feeling that you've been waiting quite a while for some good results to come in. This could either be from something that you started back in the spring, or are waiting to see results which may come around springtime. It is a season of flowers, so you may be waiting for this thing to blossom--that is, to be fully presentable to the public in some way. To have something to show for the time you put in. Like "hey, this is what I've been working on, this came from the seeds I planted." It could be growing in a direction unlike what you're used to, leaving you wondering how it could succeed in such unusual and burdensome conditions.

Lean on your inner guidance when it comes to the right timing. I don't believe that you're currently in a space where you need to push so hard for the best results. You can let things move at their own pace. Over tending to anything can end up in just as much trouble as neglect. There's only so much you can do before you have to let the flower do the growing and blooming for itself.

It's not always easy to sit in the place of uncertainty with the idea that doing more will provide more. But sometimes less is more. What you're creating is coming to fruition and may even turn out better than you expected. Trust in both the knowledge you've earned over time from learning lessons, as well as your natural intuition, to help you decide when it's time to take action.

Pile 8 - Love (Pink)

7 of Swords, Gossip

Let your heart lead the way here, not your worries over what others will think. Sure, you may end up with some people talking about you, but opportunities will keep passing by if you wait for everyone else to catch up to you. Leaning too much on everyone else's perspectives will only distort the vision you have for your own life journey. We all have unique journeys to go on, but unconditional kindness remains at the center of the Love card, the one thing that brings us together. Following life from a heart centered place may result in having others glance over and whisper, but that shouldn't distract you.

There is a rather delicate message here about dealing with friendships, colleagues, or possibly even family. You may have a tricky situation between several other people right now who have beef not with you but with each other. They may be coming to you to air their grievances and ask for advice.

If you care about both of these people, then it's best to approach this issue as diplomatically and impartially as possible and avoid feeding into the conflict. What would an enlightened mindset do in this situation? How would you want the other person to behave if they were in your shoes? Come from a place of pure compassion. They may choose to make amends or not, it's up to them. If their butting heads is bringing you down, it's always okay to step back and take a break. You are not responsible for what's going on in their heart, only your own, so protect yours well.

This reading has not been evaluated by the FDA to diagnose, prevent, treat, or cure any disease or infection. Please ask your physician before going online.

2024, @VitaminseeTarot ™

[lolokouhm]

PRETTY PLEASE? pt.I

Out of all humans walking on this Earth, Satoru Gojo might be the most impatient one.

The clock seems to have stopped the moment you walked out of his apartment, and despite his efforts to make the time flow at least a tiny bit faster, he’s miserable. That’s not how the night was supposed to go - he had plans, and one thing about Satoru is that he hates when his plans end up in ruin. This time though, there is only one person he can blame, and that is himself. It’s not your fault that when you were telling him about the girls’ night you had planned weeks ago with your besties, he was dozing off, playing with those tiny buttons on your favourite shirt. He couldn’t help himself - there was something so mesmerising about the act, and Satoru got invested.

He’d very much prefer to get invested in anything involving you than to sit alone in his apartment, waiting for you to call. At least you asked him to pick you up after you’re done - otherwise, he’d be sulking for weeks. He’s sulking now, laying on the bed, frustrated and alone, scrolling through every possible social media you use. At least there’s a tiny chance he’ll get a glimpse inside of the party you’re at, right? Wrong. You seem to be doing that on purpose, as there’s no new content for him to indulge in and sulk over even more. Satoru knows you’re the type of person who loves to overshare on the internet, so the current silence is quite suspicious. He’s trying his best not stress over it, as he swore he wouldn’t text and call, but his inner demon is really starting to sweat over it. He sighs. It’s so frustrating. Your relationship is a rather fresh subject and there were some areas of it that you haven’t really explored, but he was more than ready to do it tonight. To set the record straight - and after weeks of dating, movie nights and cook-offs in your apartment to officially ask you to become his girlfriend. 

The thought of his perfect night with you yet again pops in his head as he drops the phone on the bed, trying to shake the uneasiness. In normal circumstances, he’d have you wrapped around his finger after a week, throw a random sentence that would suggest you’re a couple from now on and be done, but when it comes to you, nothing seems normal. Not his heart rate. Not his sex drive. Not his thoughts. If love’s a war, then he’s not the brightest soldier on the battlefield - it seems like everything about him is ruthlessly occupied by you.

Even his speed. It’s abnormal, how fast he’s picking the phone up when a notification from you finally appears on his screen. Satoru rushes to his car, excitement filling up his entire being to the point where the speed limits become relatively unimportant - even if he gets a fine, he would have more than enough to pay for that. There’s only one thing that’s priceless, and that is, time. To be exact - time with you, which he has a severe shortage of, no matter for how many hours he’s blessed to be in you presence. Even infinity seems like not enough.

His sufferings have finally come to an end, as Satoru has already parked in your bestie’s driveway. He takes out his phone and texts you „I’M HEREEE” with a million of random emojis, and then slowly leans his head on the cold window glass. From the pieces of information he’s managed to pull out from the darkest places of his memory, it seems like these girls’ nights are an annual thing that happen when one of your closest friends comes back to the city once in a while - she’s been studying overseas for the past few years, but your girlfriends and you are very serious about friendship and do everything in your power to keep it alive and kicking. The effort you put in the relationship pays off - you always have your girls to talk to, vent and cry, and they have you. He grins unconsciously. Another thing Satoru loves about you. You’re just such a sweetheart.  

He observes the entrance, waiting for you to finally come out. It’s past 1 a.m and the whole neighbourhood seems to be sleeping. Satoru rolls the windows down a bit and as the freezing, but nicely refreshing air hits him, his eyes light up when he picks up a faint sound of your voice coming from the house. And then, just moments later, the doors open wide and a familiar shape emerges. Satoru instinctively fixes himself on the seat and brings both of his hands on the wheel, just to tighten his grip on them as you slowly come out from the shadows. He finally can see you, in your whole glory, when the light coming from one of the reflectors catches your frame.

You are so fucking cute.

Satoru’s smile grows bigger and bigger until it almost doesn’t fit his face. Cute is a perfect word to describe your whole being - incredibly wholesome, bright, at the same time dumb in some ways and extremely knowledgeable in the others. And tonight, Gojo Satoru is set on making you officially his. 

He’s ready to go out and open the passenger’s door for you, but you’re faster, even though your legs feel slightly wobbly as you almost sprint to his car, determined to run away from autumn cold. You grip the handle and suddenly you’re welcomed by cozy warmth and Satoru’s overwhelming scent. 

„Toru!”, you exclaim, basically throwing yourself into his open arms, giggling non-stop. The white-haired man in the driver’s seat grabs you instantly, hugging you tightly in his arms and you hide your face in his torso. You’re home.

He’s home.

„Hi, princess. I missed you so, sooo much”, he coos, not really paying attention to the fact that your body twisted in this awkward position may be activating some car options that he has no idea exist. You fit into his frame perfectly and that’s all that matters. 

„Toooru”, you purr into his hoodie, words barely audible. He raises his hands from your waist to cup you chin and kiss you, but you’re faster - you sit up properly, making a place for yourself right on his lap. You slowly raise your head and then - Satoru notices. Your flushed cheeks. Your shiny eyes. Your adorable smile.

And then you drop it.

„Toru, I need you to fuck me. Please?” 

masterlist ❤️

this will get a part two, it's just been sitting in my drafts for so long I had to post it haha based on a drabble I wrote some time ago. prepare for subby gojo I guess

[wexhappyxfew]

24. whispering in their ear, lips touching the skin

For Annie and Brady please!!! I adore them and your writing!

HI ANON!!!! thank you so much for stopping by the askbox!! greatly appreciated, especially when it is annie and brady!! :) these two have my heart and deserve all the best things life has to offer. please enjoy this take on the prompt and these two just being so soft on each other (and brady well....brady being BOLD). lmao! ENJOYYYY!!! thank you for all the love on them! :D

you in my A-2

(a/n): partially inspired by the prompt, partially by an ask i got earlier. just....annie x brady getting more and more comfortable and slowly realizing things about this war that they didn't realize earlier. them. them them them. i need them to be the happiest they can be when this is all done :')

Ever since that first night in the Stalag that she'd crawled into the bunk with Brady, it had become a nightly thing that she'd evacuate by the time morning came, but yearned for with each passing day.

Where it was just the two of them, side by side, curled into one another's bodies, their eyes the only innocent thing held between one another in this horrid place.

Sometimes they'd talk, whispering quietly between another about random things, about some of the sad things of the world, about their lives back home that would be entirely different if they ever got out of here. Sometimes they'd just stare at each other, with what little light there was from the moon outside or the lights from the guard huts outside.

And by that point, Brady would usually thread his fingers into her somewhat tangled hair and she'd apologize for something she could hardly control and he'd whisper all the sweet things that it was fine, he just wanted to be there with her. And that usually lent to her fingertips brushing against his stubbled cheeks, her pointer finger tracing all those stress lines that popped out when it was just them, or she'd let her hands dip into his hair and brush it back in a calming motion that usually got him right to sleep.

And so by morning, when she was back in her bunk, curled in her blanket, looking across the way as people would start moving about, waking up, rubbing their eyes, yawning and stretching, she'd meet Brady's gaze from across the room and they'd share that silent look that meant more than whatever words either of them would manage to find.

It never went past that - the longing looks, the occasional forehead kiss. Maybe they were both scared to go over that line they'd drawn. That maybe if there was anything more, they'd lose it just as quick.

As Annie slid out of her bunk and crossed the small room towards where Brady was, she couldn't help but feel her heart bit a little faster just at the sight of him asleep there - his face scrunched up in a way that made her heart ache. The visible stress on his face even in his sleep made her want to pull him right into her arms and tell him over and over that everything would be okay, that they'd make it out, that she was okay beyond anything. Because he cared so much, that he stopped taking care of himself sometimes. And she always would pick up what pieces were lost and stitch them back together again and hold him in the darkness.

As she approached, she softly bit back her lip and reached out to prod him awake, which always made her feel guilty for doing such a thing, but he welcomed it and told her it was fine, despite her want to make sure he got a full nights sleep. Brady woke with a shake awake and turned to look towards her and smiled softly in the darkness.

"Hey," he whispered, before opening up the blanket, "hop in." Annie watched him for a moment, before her cheeks warmed - they always did when he looked at her like that - and she slid in beside him and let him engulf her in a mixture of his arms and blanket.

The second she felt her body pressed against his in the cocoon of blankets and warmth, her worries were stripped away, as they normally always were. She curled herself against the heat from his neck, her body begging for some sort of comfort in all of this, as he pressed a kiss against her temple, something he'd grown more akin to recently it seemed. It's not that they didn't want people to see them, it was more of the fact that they finally were back with each other and trying to keep things like they had been back at Thorpe Abbotts - friendly, maybe dancing the line of flirting but not nothing more. But here at the Stalag, they were anything but. And they both seemed to recognize that.

"You doing okay?" he whispered softly against her ear as she cuddled further into him the best she could and sighed, "That cold finally going away?" She nodded against him.

"Yeah," she whispered, "just a little bit of a stuffy nose, but can't complain. How about you?" She leaned back from him, from his warmth and smiled at him as she leaned a hand up against her head. Reaching forward, she ran her hands through his hair and watched a sense of calm wash over his form for a minute as she did so. And it did settle Annie's own nerves and worry for Brady that she constantly endured day in and day out. She always worried about him and seemed, but it was always mutual for the two of them.

"Okay," he said quietly, before the corner of his lip turned upward, "better now that you're here, I gotta admit." Her cheeks warmed and she shook her head before holding his gaze in her own.

"You're too sweet on me, John Brady." she whispered softly to him, cupping his cheek for a minute and brushing her thumb across his cheek as she grinned at him with her rosy cheeks. Brady watched her, that slightly far-off look in his eyes, a hint of a smile. He grinned.

"You deserve it, Annie," he whispered back to her, reaching up his own hand and brushing his fingers against her warm cheek and grinning, "that and you blush red like a tomato."

"You a fan of that?" she whispered back quickly with a laugh and she watched him bit his lip and smirk.

"I'd say I'm a big fan of that," he whispered back, "'specially when you look like this." Annie watched him - she could probably be covered in mud and he'd be staring at the way he currently was. And now, stuck in a Stalag camp, looking slightly malnourished and sickly, with slightly matted hair and sunken in eyes and he still looked at her like that and said things like that.

"I could say much of the same," she whispered back to him, turning her head slightly to nuzzle into his hand against her cheek, "you look cute when you blush." John Brady did in fact blush when she said that, even though she couldn't even really see much of his face in that darkness of the room. She grinned and then leaned forward and cuddled into his neck again, Brady chuckling the slightest bit as he curled into her as well.

"You're so warm." Annie whispered against his neck as the rumble from his throat echoed in her ear and made her grin like a loon, "You're like a personal blanket." That got him to chuckle quietly again as her lips danced near her ear and she could practically hear each and every breath that left his lips - a mixture of knowing he was alive and right there next to her - and even more so; knowing that all they were in that moment right now were two people dying for an ounce of comfort in this world.

"Consider me your personal blanket," he whispered back as his lips continued to ghost over her ears, "I was thinking….." Annie listened to him trail off and gulped for a moment as his breath trembled and his heart pounded.

"I'd give anything if it was me and you back at Thorpe Abbotts, just you in my A-2 jacket and nothing else." he whispered and her body grew hot - whether from his soft, husky voice in her ear or the way his hands had found their way underneath her clothes, fingertips grazing her bare back, traversing her battered and hot skin, her thoughts were suddenly in a blunder and all she could think about well was….that. Annie pulled back from her spot curled against his neck and met his gaze.

"Just your A-2?" she whispered softly, looking at him shyly from underneath her eyelashes, a small smile growing on her face as a look dawned on his features that almost seemed like he hadn't meant to let that slip from his lips, but it had, "What does that mean for you?" Brady watched her, the look in his eyes matching the touch of his fingertips on her skin and she suddenly couldn't focus on anything else but that gentle touch of his fingertips. He leaned closer and brushed his lips against her forehead again with that tender touch.

"You can have me anyway you want me." he whispered against her forehead and her eyes instinctively shut as he pressed up against her and she overwhelmed with him. His presence, his touch, the way he held her so gently and close to him, but with a level of protectiveness and care that made her know that this was safe, that she was safe, just like this.

Annie reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, slowly running her fingers up into his hair as his head fell to the inside of her neck and he pulled her close, like a warm, tender hug that you never wanted to pull away from. Gleefully his hands raced along her bare back as she curled against him, feeling the way his hands explored underneath her coat and wooly top, dancing across her skin and making her feel things she hadn't quite felt in some time.

"Can I tell you something?" Annie whispered softly to him, rubbing slowly again through his hair as he sighed against her.

"What is it?" Annie listened to his heartbeat for a moment before blinking.

"This is the safest I've felt in years." And to even say a statement like that, in a place like this was ironic even in it of itself. She hadn't even felt the safest at home, a place that was supposed to be safe. No, no, she felt safest in the arms and embrace of someone she had only met a couple of months ago and had proved himself to be more of a home to her beyond anything.

"With me?" Annie nodded against him.

"Right here." she whispered back to him, "You and me." His grip didn't loosen, he only held her tighter and it seemed in that moment, the realization and the weight of whatever was going on between them seemed to hit. Her truth spilling from her lips quietly into his body, his grip tightening, their bodies pressed against one another in a way that should've felt foreign. Brady seemed to want to say something, she could tell, but when he stayed quiet and instead pressed another soft kiss to her forehead, she didn't question it. Because whatever they had here was okay for right now.

"I feel safe with you too, Annie." he whispered back and Annie was convinced even she wasn't so comfy, that she wasn't sure what she would've done if they'd been looking right at each other, inches apart. For now, she cuddled closer to him, enjoying his hands on her stomach and his lips near her ear, their soft breaths, mixing into deep slumber as they laid in each other's embraces until the world went quiet.

[seabirdtxt]

Hey, back at it with a request. I wanted to dump you with requests, but I also know that it takes you a bit to write, and I didn't want to overwhelm you ^^"""

Honestly though, with the requests I have in mind, I have a feeling they're going to become a spinoff series called "In which the Puppets learn the Creator is really, really bizarre."

With that said, this request will consist of some habits I have, and how our puppet boys would react to them! That being: reader is a night owl magpie who likes to collect a number of things. Whatever sparks their fancy, they hoard (It's why the Traveller has such a hoarding problem in the first place).

They collect some semi-formal things, like flowers and different plants, and like shiny rocks (Reader is familiar with the Language of Flowers, and I can fully see them and Kabukimono spending hours going over them. With Scara, Reader finds a piece of Rose Quartz in the shape of a heart and gives it to him, saying "You said you wanted a heart, right? Here you go! I know it isn't a real heart, but that's okay: because you already have a real one!")

But then they have the weird stuff they collect, like bones -and teeth -and scales - and bugs (Scara or Wanderer: "Why do you have this?" Reader, holding up the carcass of a beetle: "I just think they're neat!")

Or the worse part: literal trash. I'm talking broken pieces of glass and random metal parts, and like old candy wrappers that they've been keeping. (Again: Scara or Wanderer: "Get rid of this." Reader: "But it has sentimental value-!!!" S or W: "IT IS LITERALLY TRASH!!!")

But yes. Reader is a hoarder of many things.

i love this LOL i also hoard some pretty random things so like 🤝

(Might not have touched on all the same points as your ask bc i tried to keep it in-universe, but i tried to hit the major themes of each!)

WC. 1.5k

----- ⚘ -----

Flowers and Gems: Kabukimono

This collection is one of your gentler ones, and you take care to replenish it often with new blooms and interesting stones you pick up along your way. There is so much more novelty to collect here than back on earth, after all!

Kabukimono is fascinated by the variety of it, begging to be taken along with you the next time you venture out into the world to add more to your stash, and maybe take inspiration to start a collection of his own! It takes a bit of convincing, but you eventually relent and allow him to accompany you.

He follows you with wide eyes and an awed grin, asking you all about the various plants that the pair of you come across. You try to remember them as best as you can, reciting what you remember from the ingame tooltips.

“Wow! What’s this one?” Kabukimono asks, bounding up to a reddish pink bush. He delicately plucks one of the flowers, showing it to you proudly.

“That’s a silk flower!” You tell him, smiling as you take the flower from his hand. He only smiles and picks himself another one. “The people in Liyue can process them and make them into a very fine fabric!”

Kabukimono nods in understanding. “That makes sense! I know lots of kimono makers back home often talk about the quality of fabric from Liyue.”

“Fun fact,” you add, “back in my world, silk is such a sturdy material that it can resist piercing damage, to a certain extent! But it is very weak to slashing, or cutting damage.”

“That’s so interesting!” Kabukimono’s eyes go wider at the information. “I wonder if that's true of the silk from this world, too!”

“We probably shouldn’t, y’know… test it or anything,” you interrupt him before he lets his curiosity get the better of him. “We can probably ask a seamstress about it later.”

“Ohhh, good thinking.” Kabukimono agrees. He pockets his flower and looks around the area, scouting for the next object to collect. “Hey, do you have an electro crystal, yet? I heard you can only mine them using pyro!”

You let Kabukimono lead you to your next destination, already planning to press the new flower for your collection. Distantly, you wonder how the two of you are going to get an electro crystal, considering neither of you have pyro visions.

----- ⚘ -----

Beetles and Bones: Wanderer

“I went back to Springvale to ask if those hunters still had some of those ancient boar bones,” is what you say, offering a sheepish grin to Wanderer, who stares down at you with his arms crossed. In all honesty, you probably deserve the scrutiny for having somehow escaped his supervision for several hours.

“Did you at least get the, uh,,” Wanderer gestures at the cloth bag you’re holding in your arms. “Special bones you were looking for?”

“Yeah!” You exclaim, shaking the bag excitedly. It makes a rattling noise as you move. “Do you want to see them?”

You don’t wait to hear the answer, instead leading the way to your room, where part of your collection resides. You hear Wanderer step in and close the door behind you, waiting in curious silence as you carefully put your bag on your bed, pulling open the drawstring with reverence.

One by one, you bring out the intact bones the hunters were able to unearth from you. You brush off some of the remaining dust, then you begin laying them out on your bed in their approximate positions.

“That’s your special ancient boar?” Wanderer asks, sidling up to you and looking at the bones with you.

“Yes!” You finally place the jawless skull at the top of the unfinished skeleton, putting your hands on your hips with satisfaction. “I found it during a quest when I was still guiding the Traveler. I knew I had to have it in my collection when I got here!”

“Fair enough,” Wanderer nods. “Can I see the rest of your stuff?”

You are more than eager to show off the cool stuff you’ve been hoarding since your arrival in Teyvat, from smaller animal bones, to surprisingly intact shed lizard skins and molted duskbird feathers, and even some hollow onikabuto shells.

Wanderer picks up each one with care, mindful of your enthusiasm for your strange collection. He turns each object over slowly, inspecting them as you’re explaining the particularities of your collection.

“Hey, do you mind if I borrow some of these?” Wanderer eventually asks, as you’re nearing the end of your impromptu lecture. “I’ve got this Amurta elective that I haven’t started my project for, and some of these are interesting enough. I could probably write something about them.”

Your sudden silence is worrying, and he’s quick to backpedal in case he’d offended you in some way.

“Or, forget it, I mean-” he turns and pretends to scratch his nose to hide the dumb expression he knows he must be making. “I know this is all probably hard to get, so if you don’t want to risk it getting broken or stolen…”

“I would love to share it with you!!” Your sudden shout scares him out of his foul mood, and he looks at you in bemusement. Your eyes are wide and shiny, matching the stupid grin that settles on your face. Just as he’s about to reply, you leap up and scramble for one of the unopened drawers.

You proudly present a wooden box, and when you open it Wanderer can see the interior is padded and separated with thin wooden strips, creating protected compartments just big enough to fit some of the larger items in your collection.

“You’ve got to take extra good care of this stuff, okay?” You instruct him, and you help him pack the items he’d chosen into your carrying case. “I mean, I can probably find some of this stuff again, but the more delicate things are harder to come by. Promise you’ll be careful?”

He looks up at you, closing the lid of the box slowly and fastening it shut. “Yeah, I promise,” he says, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

----- ⚘ -----

Literal Garbage: Scaramouche

“You’re throwing this shit out, right?”

The noise you make, of absolute disgust and denial, is enough to make Scaramouche second guess his own words for a moment. He recovers faster than you’d give him credit for, picking up the broken clay jar and the dull shard of a broken sword. He holds up both in front of you, an accusing glare pinning you.

“Does this look like normal stuff to collect, to you?” he demands, tossing both back into the bin where he’d found them, retrieving a foil candy wrapper and a graphite pencil with no nib. Again, he discards both items with a noise of exasperation. “None of this stuff has any use! It’s all just garbage! Where do you even find this?!”

“Like,” you say, shuffling closer to your collection bin and putting the cover back on it slowly. “On the ground and stuff? I don’t know what you’re expecting.”

Scaramouche pinches the bridge of his nose with a loud sigh, but doesn’t make any move to reopen the bin. “You’re seriously testing my patience, here. Why are you collecting all this garbage? Can’t you collect something less… bizarre? Like seashells, or something.”

“I have some of those, too!”

“Not the point, here!”

You look down where your hands are pressing down on the lid of the bin, then back up at Scaramouche with a bit of a pout.

“Are you really making me throw it all out?” You ask, pitifully. He takes one look at you and grumbles with displeasure.

“That’s not what I said,” he rolls his eyes, crossing his arms as he looks down his nose at you. “You want to waste your time picking up other people’s trash and pretending it has meaning to you? Fine, be my guest. But don’t come crying to me when you realize you’re stuck with a container full of useless junk that nobody wanted anymore.”

“Sometimes, even the things that people feel have no practical use can be worth a lot to someone else,” you tell him. “Things don’t have to be worth anything to be wanted.”

Scaramouche chews on your words for a moment, then shrugs. “Sure, whatever you say, I guess.”

He doesn’t seem to be leaving anytime soon, so you tentatively open the bin and reach inside, fishing around until your fingertips grasp what you’re looking for.

“Are you sure you don’t recognize this one?” You ask, holding up the candy wrapper so he can see it. He scrunches up his nose at the offending item.

“Am I supposed to?”

“It’s from that festival in Inazuma,” you smile, bringing the wrapper to yourself gently. “The one you guys took me to when you found out I hadn’t been to one before.”

Scaramouche looks at it closer, out of the corner of his eye. He lets his shoulders slump and shakes his head with a huff.

“Whatever,” he says. “The rest of it is garbage, though.”

You put the wrapper away with a cheeky grin.

[distort-opia]

I'm wracking my brain with what Joker would do in an established situation, like how would he keep those homicidal urges at bay (sex and intimacy can only go so far I imagine) and also there's so much unacknowledged mental health concerns. Bruce would just have to always be ready to pick up the pieces I feel like (God these two are a tragic mess). I don't think normalcy is possible but I don't think their relationship is built for that anyway (I've been writing notes down for a story for days and it's just been consuming me)

An actual relationship between Bruce and Joker is a very complicated thing to imagine, yeah. I agree with you that normalcy is entirely out of the question-- as in, a typical "healthy" relationship. What I think they could have is something that works, but not something that most people would understand or approve of. If you're writing a story, I would say it depends on how they got into the relationship a lot, and if Bruce is compromising as much as Joker perceives he is. For instance, a rehabilitation scenario inherently implies a power imbalance, which Joker would resent and Bruce would not be able to help not taking advantage of. This would not end up working out, in my opinion, unless they got back on equal footing somehow. So a scenario with them an equal footing is what I will be rambling about.

Joker's homicidal urges and mental health issues are indeed a big obstacle. It'd take a whole lot for him to even agree to try for a relationship that involves something other than violence, but this denotes a willingness to compromise from the start. It means he cares about Bruce enough to risk opening the door to his humanity, something that he's very keen on eradicating. Joker can allow himself to love Batman as long as love equals destruction; but once love begins to mean more tender things, things that only people and not monsters can feel... it's a threat to his very identity, to his very core. Hence, just the fact that Joker is in an established relationship means that he's accepted, one way or another, that he's a human being.

Human beings don't need to kill people. Monsters do. It's relevant to note that Joker has an incredible capacity to reshape himself. He's done so multiple times in canon, and always in relation to what he perceived Batman needed. He was murderous when he emerged, but after Robin appeared on the scene he went for funny silly gags, and then he recreated himself back into a horrific threat... In his head, Batman -- the drive to see meaning in all life, to fight for sense in one's existence -- is the force of nature that he's the opposite of. Joker molded himself as the force of chaos: he kills carelessly, sometimes almost joylessly, because he believes he's embodying the true way the world works (though he's shown signs he'd like to be convinced otherwise).

After all, like his fall in the acid and the trauma he went through proved, catastrophe is random. It doesn't matter if you're good or evil, if you've got a family or if you're alone, if you've contributed to society or not. You can get run over by a bus, you can have a heart attack, you can mix the wrong medications, you can get shot in the head by a madman because you were in the wrong place at the wrong time. My point with this is that Joker sees himself as an agent of the cruel randomness of existence, and him killing people is very much part of it. So if he stopped seeing himself as an inhuman force for chaos, I think killing would not be a necessity anymore.

That's not to say he wouldn't think of other people's lives as worthless or that he wouldn't instinctually want to kill someone because they're inconveniencing him as some kind of fly buzzing around, but it does mean he wouldn't need to do it. Being with Bruce undermines the very point of being Joker, it means being a person instead of raging at the world. In an established relationship, he'd need to once again reshape himself, figure out who he can be. It'd be very difficult, if you add Bruce's controlling tendencies in the mix. You mentioned Bruce always having to pick up the pieces, but the thing is, Bruce would want to. He'd want to do that too much, he would enjoy seeing Joker be vulnerable, because afterwards... Bruce would be able to put those pieces back together the way he wants them to be. And Joker would be rightly afraid of that, and Bruce himself would be afraid of his own need to do just that, and it'd be a constant push and pull. That's basically what I think it'd be like for a while, before Joker figured out who exactly he's comfortable being, and if he can trust Bruce to still be there when boundaries are being pushed. It'd be a lot of "make me" even in the context of intimacy, until Joker initiates something that doesn't hurt on his own and like... Bruce doesn't move a muscle as if he might spook a wild animal or something. And then Joker snaps at him to stop making it weird, hah.

I'm going to stop here to avoid turning this into a Batjokes relationship essay, but I hope this helped inspire you, Anon! We can always use more Batjokes stories, excited to eventually read yours.

[hereforreadandwrite]

Chapter Five

Masterlist

"I don't know why I didn't think of this. The elevator is by far the most efficient way to get around the factory."

Willy pressed a button, the elevator. The double doors opened, allowing the small group to enter the cramped cabin. You were uncomfortable seeing the void beneath your feet. You leaned against the glass wall, taking a deep breath. Your gaze rested on the many buttons that covered an entire wall. How was it possible for a chocolate factory to have so many floors? Even Mike was puzzled.

"There can't be this many floors," muttered Mike, glaring at Willy.

"How do you know, Mr. Smarty Pants?" Willy asked, glaring at Mike. "This isn't just an ordinary up and down elevator, by the way! This elevator can go sideways, longways, slantways, and any other ways you can think of! You just press any button and, whoosh! You're off!"

Willy pressed a random button. The elevator doors closed and the cabin moved suddenly, tripping the group. Because of the jolt, you fell on Willy. You had to cling to him to keep from falling. Surprised, Willy wrapped his arms around you, keeping you from crashing to the ground. You felt your cheeks heat up as you met Willy's amused gaze. The chocolatier helped you to your feet, wrapping his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

"You should be careful, Barley sugar. You shouldn't hurt yourself," Willy said smiling at you with all his perfectly white teeth.

"S-sorry."

"Oh! Look! Look!" Willy suddenly exclaimed.

The elevator entered a dome. You were surprised to see the glass cabin pass over a mountain. Oompa Loompa were climbing the mountain, collecting the ingredients.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Fudge Mountain!"

The glass elevator continued on its way, leaving the dome and entering a room with candy pink sheep being shaved. You cast a puzzled look at Willy who tensed slightly, saying he didn't want to talk about this room. The elevator left the sheep room and entered a room for the badly burned welcome show dolls. Willy giggled, commenting that this piece was relatively new. You couldn't help but roll your eyes as the elevator descended into the administrative department. The chocolatier greeted a woman named Doris who greeted him back. The elevator started again suddenly, arriving in a huge dark room. The sound of cannons and fireworks was deafening. It was all strange, but oddly enough, you and Charlie liked it. But Mike was unimpressed. He even seemed bored by all this.

"Why is everything here completely pointless?"

"Candy doesn't have to have a point. That's why it's candy," Charlie replied, which made Willy smile.

"It's stupid! Candy has a waste of time!"

You felt Willy's grip tighten around your waist. You turned to the chocolatier. His eyes were lost in the void. He seemed, once again, reliving a painful memory. Mike groaned as he turned to Willy.

"I wanna pick a room," the boy growled.

Willy shook his head slightly, snapping out of his thoughts. The chocolatier was smiling, showing all his teeth. His smile made you feel uncomfortable.

"Go ahead," he replied in a deceptively soft voice.

Mike turned to the buttons. His gaze was drawn to a button leading to the TV room. The elevator stopped short, before heading off in another direction. You looked at Willy out of the corner of your eye, the chocolatier had become silent, swallowing painfully. You didn't have time to ask him if he was okay when the elevator suddenly stopped. Willy quickly let go of you, rushing out of the cabin to put on some weird glasses.

"Here! Put these on quick, and don't take them off whatever you do!" Willy ordered, putting his weird glasses on your nose. "These lights could burn your eyeballs out of your skulls! We certainly don't want that, now, do we?"

He finished his sentence by pressing his finger to your nose before turning his back on you.

"This is the testing room for my very latest and greatest invention: television chocolate! One day it occurred to me: Hey! If television could break up a photograph into millions and millions of tiny little pieces and sent it whizzing through te air then reassemble it on the other end, why can't I do the same with chocolate? Why can't I sent a real bar of chocolate through the television all ready to be eatent?" Willy explained as he walked towards the checkpoint.

"Sounds impossible," replied Mr. Teavee.

"It's impossible!" Mike cried, following Willy closely. "You don't understand anything about science! First off, there's a difference between waves and particles, duh! Second, the amount of power it would take to convert energy in matter would be like nine atomic bombs!"

"Mumbler!" Willy shouted, turning to Mike. "Seriously, I cannot understand a single word you're saying."

The chocolatier's body was tense because of the little hacker. Mike hated being contradicted and having no one follow his point of view. You hated that kind of person. Even if you put all the evidence in front of him, he would still tell you that you are wrong. Mike might be smart, but he wasn't going to last long in the real world.

"Oki Doki! I shall now send a bar of chocolate from one end of the room to the other by television! Bring in the chocolate!"

Oompa Loompas entered the room with a huge Wonka chocolate bar. It was the biggest bar you had seen in your life. The little men put the huge chocolate bar on a pedestal. Willy explained the fact that the bar had to be huge in order for it to come out of the television at a normal size. That it was the same basic basic as when a camera filmed a tall person and he came out normal sized. Willy pressed a button. The pedestal rose, to your surprise, the chocolate started avoiding it, a huge glass tube joined the pedestal, holding the huge bar of chocolate as a strange camera pointed at the candy. A flash illuminated the room. The bar had disappeared.

"It's gone!" exclaimed the two cousins.

"Told you. That chocolate is now rushing through the air above our heads in a million tiny little pieces," Willy explained smiling at the two cousins before rushing over to the television. "Come over here! Come one. Come on. Come on!"

The group followed the ecstatic chocolatier. They stood in front of the television, blocking the view of the Oompa Loompa settling into his chair. The screen image showed howling monkeys. It only took a few seconds before the chocolate bar appeared. Willy had succeeded? It was surreal.

"Take it," Willy said, jostling Mike slightly.

"It's just a picture on a screen," replied the young hacker, unimpressed by what had just happened.

"Scaredy-cat," Willy replied before turning to Charlie. "You take it. Go on, just reach out and grab it."

Charlie looked at you puzzled. Should he? You nodded slightly before nodding at the television. Charlie took a deep breath, moving closer to the screen, slowly plunging his hand into it. Your cousin's hand entered the screen, grabbing the chocolate bar he pulled out of the television.

"That's great," you breathe.

"Eat it. Go on," Willy said, catching Charlie's attention. "It'll be delicious. It's the same bar, just got a little smaller on the journey, that's all."

Charlie slowly opened his tablet, a little perplexed. His gaze rested on Willy who bit into the void, encouraging him to bite into the chocolate. Your cousin bit into the chocolate bar before smiling at his idol.

"It's great!"

"So imagine!" Willy exclaimed, stepping away from the group, facing them. "You're sitting at home, watching television and suddenly a commercial will flash onto the screen, and a voice say: 'Wonka's chocolates are the best in the world. If you don't believe us, try one yourself.' And you simply reach out and take it. How about that?"

"So… can you send other things? Say like… breakfast cereal?" asked Mr teavee uncertainly.

"Do you have any idea of what breakfast cereal's made of?" spat Willy in disgust. "It's those little curly wooden shavings you find in pencil sharpeners."

"But could you send it by television if you wanted to?" you asked, eyeing the chocolatier.

"Of course I could," he replied, shrugging.

"What about people?" Mike asked suddenly.

"Well, why would I wanna send a person? They don't taste very good at all."

"Don't you realize what you've invented?! It's a teleporter!" Mike exclaimed, frustrated that no one thought like him. "It's the most important invention in the history of the world! And all you can think about is chocolate!"

"Calm down, Mike. I think Mr. Wonka knows what he's talking about," said Mr Teavee, trying to calm his son.

"No, he doesn't!" Mike spat angrily. "He has no idea! You think he's a genius, but he's an idiot! But I'm not."

Mike suddenly runs towards the checkpoint, jumping over the chair and pushing Oompa Loompa out of his way.

"Hey, little boy. Don't push my button," Willy warned.

Unsurprisingly, Mike didn't listen to anyone. He pushed the button, jumping over the checkpoint to land on the pedestal. Mr. Teavee runs ahead of Willy, helplessly watching his son's stupidity. Mike began to float in the air. The arrogant boy began to dance before waving at Willy. The chocolatier was rolling his eyes when a flash lit up the room before disappearing. Mike had disappeared.

"He's gone," said Mr. Teavee under his breath.

"Let's go check the television and see what we get," Willy suggested as he walked back to the screen.

The rest of the small group moved closer to the television, watching the screen intently. Looking for Mike who was slow to appear.

"I sure hope no part of him gets left behind," Willy muttered, bad luck, Mr. Teavee heard him.

"What do you mean?!"

"Well, sometimes only half of the little pieces find their way through. if you had to choose only one half of your son, which one would it be?"

"What kind of a question is that?!" cried Mr. Teavee, turning angrily to Willy.

"No need to snap. It's just a question," Willy muttered before turning to the Oompa Loompa. "Try every channel. I'm starting to feel a lillte anxious."

The Oompa Loompa picked up the remote, beginning to zap. An image of a reporter Oompa Loompa appeared on screen with Mike, miniaturized, materializing on his desk.

"There he is," you say, pointing your finger at Mike.

"Mike..."

The Oompa Loompa began to sing about Mike being in front of the television for far too long; that it was rotting his brain and driving him crazy. The boy was always close to dying crushed under the tenderizing hammer of a cook, under the drumsticks of a drummer, a boxing game and under stab wounds which he managed to dodge before ending flattened under the papers of the Oompa Loompa journalist, startling the small group.

"Ew! Somebody grab him!" Willy exclaimed.

Mr. Teavee ran his hand across the screen, grabbing his son, now tiny and speaking in a high-pitched, unpleasant voice. You couldn't help but feel sorry for Mike, even though it was deserved for playing with fire. But you didn't wish that, even on your worst enemy.

"Oh, thank heavens. He's completely unharmed," Willy commented without being truly relieved for Mike.

"Unharmed?! What are you talking about?!" exclaimed Mr. Teavee, placing Mike in his hand.

"Just put me back through the other way!" Mike ordered.

"There is no other way. It's television, not telephone. There's quite a difference," replied the chocolatier.

"And what exactly do you propose we do about it?" asked the father between his teeth.

"I don't know. But young men are extremely springy. They stretch like mad. Let's go put him in the taffy puller!" Willy finished with a huge smile.

"Taffy puller?!"

"Hey, that was my idea," Willy replied before looking at Mike. "Boy, is he going to be skinny. Yeah… taffy puller. I want you to take Mr Teavee and his… little… boy… up to the taffy puller, okay? Stretch him out."

The Oompa Loompa rose from his seat, tugging Mr. Teavee's pants a little. He followed the little man out of the room, leaving Willy with you and Charlie. The light went out, allowing the people in the room to remove their strange glasses. The trio tossed their glasses into a small bin on their way to the elevator.

"There's still so much to see! Now, how many children are left?" Willy asked, turning to the two cousins.

You and Charlie looked at each other for a few seconds. You cleared your throat, looking nervously at Willy.

"Willy...Charlie's the only one left," you say, putting your arm around your cousin's shoulders, pulling him closer to you.

Willy was surprised by your words. His gaze fell on you, then on Charlie before scanning the room, looking for other children.

"You mean...you're the only one?" Willy asked softly.

"Yes," Charlie answered with a slight nod.

"What happened to the others?"

You didn't know what to answer to that. With everything that had just happened in this strange chocolate factory. It was a miracle you and Charlie were still together.

"Oh my dear boy, that means you've won!" Willy cried grabbing Charlie's hand, shaking it frantically. "Oh, I do congratulate you. I really do. I am absolutely delighted! I had a hunch right from the beginning! Well done! Now, we mustn't dilly, or dally. We have an enormous number of things to do before the day's out. But luckily for us, we have the Great Glass Elevator to speed things along-"

As he spoke, Willy let go of your cousin's hand, heading for the elevator. But to your surprise, and Charlie's, the chocolatier collided with the glass doors before collapsing to the floor. Willy sat up quickly, putting his hat back on his head, an embarrassed smile on his lips.

"Speed thing along," he finished pushing the button, opening the doors. "Come on."

You took Charlie's hand, stepping into the glass elevator. Willy entered in turn, looking for a button before pressing a button labeled: Up and Out. Charlie asked which room it was, to which Willy told him to hang on with a huge smile. The elevator moved, going up faster and faster. You felt your heart race, especially hearing Willy say that the cabin had to go a lot faster if he wanted to get out.

"I've been longing to press that button for years! Well, here we go. Up and Out!"

"Do... do you really mean?" you asked terrified, hugging Charlier to your chest.

"Yeah! I do!"

"But… It's made of glass! It'll smash into a million pieces!" you exclaimed horrified. "Stop it!"

Unfortunately for you, Willy just laughed like crazy. You looked at the ceiling, seeing the device approaching at full speed a huge window. The glass elevator passed through the window. With the impulse, the elevator rose high in the sky before plummeting. Charlie was burying his face in your chest, not wanting to see what was going to happen. The cabin was passing between the chimneys when Willy pressed a button, activating the reactors. The glass elevator suddenly froze. You slowly let go of Charlie when you saw the device floating in the air. It wasn't more reassuring, but it was better than being in free fall. The cabin began to move, flying above the entrance to the chocolate factory. The trio could see the children, punished, going out. Augustus was covered head to toe in chocolate, Violet was back to normal size, but she was still blue and had become extremely flexible, Veruca and her father were covered in filth and trash. You noticed the spoiled girl looking in your direction before talking to her father. Probably to request a flying glass elevator. As for Mike, he was now taller than his father and as thin as a sheet of paper.

"Where do you live?" Willy asked, leaning slightly towards Charlie. Charlie smiled before turning to look around for his house.

"Right over there. In that little house."

Willy pressed another button. The elevator started up to the little house. You were about to tell Willy to land in the garden, but the elevator went through the roof, landing in the only room in the house. Your uncle, aunt and grandparents looked at the trio surprised by their sudden entrance. Charlie was smiling broadly, greeting his mother. The elevator doors opened. Charlie rushed into his parents' arms, you followed more calmly, leaning against the table. Willy walked slowly out of the elevator. All eyes fell on the chocolatier.

"Mr. Willy Wonka," Grandpa Joe said with a huge grin.

"He gave us a ride home," you say, smiling at the chocolatier.

"I see that," your aunt commented looking at the hole in the ceiling.

"You must be their-" Willy yawned trying to say the word.

"Parents?" Mr. Bucket asked puzzled.

"Yeah. That," he replied with a forced smile.

Under the puzzled gaze of all, Willy began to search the house. Opening all the cupboards and closing them quickly.

"He... he s'ays Charlie's won something," you say, turning to your family.

"Not just some something. The most "something" something of any something that's ever been," Willy said, turning to you with a huge smile. "I'm going to give this boy my entire factory."

"You must be joking...," you say under your breath.

"No, really. It's true. Beacause you see, a few months ago I was having my semiannual haircut and I had the strangest revelation. In that one silver hair, I saw reflected my whole life’s work. My factory, my beloved Oompa Loompas. Who would watch over them after I was gone? I realized in that moment: I must find a heir. And I did, Charlie. You!"

"That's why you sent out the golden tickets," says Charlie excited by his award.

"Uh huh! I invited 5 children to my factory and the one who was the least rotten was the winner," Willy explained before stopping his digging to turn to Charlie with a huge smile. "So, what do you say? Are you ready to leave all this behind and come live with me in the factory?"

"Sure. Of course. I mean, it's all right if my family come too?"

"Oh! My dear boy! Of course they can't!"

This announcement throws a chill in the dilapidated little house. You couldn't suppress a nervous chuckle, tucking hair behind your ear. Maybe you heard wrong. Willy couldn't say such a thing.

"You can't run a factory with a family hanging over you like an old dead goose. No offense."

"None taken. Jerk," Grandpa George muttered.

"A chocolatier has to run free and solo! He has to follow his dreams! Gosh darn the consequences!" Willy continued, ignoring Grandpa George's insult. "Look at me. I had no family and I'm a giant success!"

Your nails dug into your arms, you wanted to cry, to scream, to run away. Why was he doing such a thing? Was it just a cruel game for him? A big joke? The news of the chocolatier had considerably dampened Charlie's joy. The boy's gaze fell on you. You had curled up on yourself, refusing to look at Willy.

"So… if I go with you to the factory, I won't ever see my family again?" Charlie asked.

"Yeah! Consider that a bonus!"

You couldn't help but shake and lower your head, cupping the bridge of your nose between your fingers. You didn't have to cry. You shouldn't be cracking up now. You turned your back on the chocolatier, going into the small kitchen.

"Then I'm not going," Charlie replied with a neutral expression. "I wouldn't give up my family for anything. Not for all the chocolate in the world."

"Oh... I see. That's... weird. There's other candy too besides chocolate," Willy tried.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Wonka. I'm staying here," Charlie replied.

Willy hadn't expected such an answer. Why Charlie refused to leave everything behind to live in his marvelous chocolate factory? His gaze fell on you, trying to find support, but you turned your back on him, refusing to look at him. The chocolatier felt his heart sink when he saw that you were upset. So it was going to end like this? Without an heir and without being able to talk to you anymore?

"(Y/N)?" Willy called, taking two steps towards you.

"Leave me alone!" you growled without turning to the chocolatier.

"Okay... If you change your mind Barley sugar, my door will always be open to you."

Willy returned to the elevator, stunned. It was a surprising turnaround.

"Wow... well, that's just unexpected and... weird. But I suppose, in that case, I'll just... goodbye then," he said, pointing his finger at a button before stopping, looking one last time at Charlie. "Sure you won't change your mind?"

"I'm sure"

"Okay. Bye." Willy pressed a button.

The doors closed and the elevator left through the hole it had made. Once the chocolate maker left, the house fell silent. You couldn't hold back your tears any longer. Charlie was the only one to come and console you while the others preferred to look away until Grandma Georgina spoke.

"Things are going to get much better."

[awakentheeldritchabomination]

The Thing About Redesigns, Rewrites, and Reimagines…

(Part I: Broader Discourse)

To those of you who’ve been keeping tabs or maybe seen my posts floating around the tag, you might recall me mentioning that I felt a bit of hesitancy toward the prospect of joining in on the recent wave of redesign/rewrite content. In the more likely scenario that you haven’t or do not know what the crap I’m talking about, that’s fine lol. Understandable. It was a little thing I had written into my first rewrite/redesign post about Charlie. In a short aside, I explained that it was because I’d felt “bad about tinkering with someone else’s work like this”, and then I’d left it at that. So… yeah. Why am I bringing it up now?

Well, I don’t think I need to tell you that this fandom is… a lot. Y’know people have been talking…discourse is being had… heated, moral arguments are being hurled left and right. And in light of all the growing, reactionary accusations, I…found myself starting to feel bad again.

My initial issue, the reason why I didn’t immediately jump to sharing my ideas was that, for all her faults, I empathize with Viv as a creator and didn’t want to feel like I was disrespecting her, her characters, and her vision by reworking it to suit my own. I had frustrations and criticisms, but I never wanted to make it seem like I was trying to ‘fix’ her work or her style. I really didn’t want to be one of those pretentious dipsh*ts (the kind that take a piece of art, digest it through their own preferences and biases, then spit it back in the artist’s face with a, “There. I made it better”). In the end, I went through with it because I had a small hyperfixation and a tendency to project my own issues onto characters I love (I’m sure some of y'all can relate). And also, I was having fun. But… then more discourse poured in, and I saw all the concerns I expressed reflected in the arguments presented by other fans and artists.

And well… That made me feel like I was doing something wrong, like perpetuating and becoming the exact problems I had wanted to fight against. So, I took a step back. I reevaluated.

Now, I have thoughts (shocker!).

And they are conflicted.

On one hand I agree with the idea that redesigns/rewrites are not inherently bad or disrespectful things when it comes to productions like Hazbin since Viv is not a small creator with no power. She and her team have ultimate authority over the show’s events, and those plans will not be derailed by what is basically some random tumblr artist’s fanart/fanfiction.

In regards to the critical side of things, that kinda comes with consuming and digesting the messages and presentation of a work of art. Ideally, it should get people to discuss in this capacity, especially when it deals with such sensitive subject matter as Hazbin does (and especially when it is executed with evidently problematic notions which do bleed into the designs at times).

Still, I do think this trend can be disrespectful if the intention and presentation are made with an aggressive holier-than-thou attitude which explicitly seeks to one-up the creator. Though I understand where it comes from, I think that can be just straight, undiluted maliciousness with a generous helping of pretentious, self-appointed superiority. And I don’t think it’s necessary to pick apart the style itself. You don’t have to like it, of course, but I feel like stating your preference for one way of drawing over another and asserting it as if it were some objective truth antagonizes the entire point of individual artistic expression and personal taste. Criticize the lack of diversity (something which, I’d like to add, is not actually unique to Hazbin) and potentially problematic aspects, but not the style. Even then, it’s important to be constructive not destructive.

That being said, I don’t expect everyone to agree with me (especially if anyone who’s a die-hard fan finds this) Whether you do or not is on you, and that’s okay.

This is more a snippet of my thoughts than a fully developed rant. I just wanted to share where I’m at right now. There will be a part 2 to this expanding some of my feelings while also outlining where I might go from here because things are going on in my head, and I don’t actually know whether I will continue or not with this project. Right now, it feels like it’s drifting toward a more original direction (Charlie feels like an entirely different yet vaguely similar character and dang it I’m attached…It’s kinda weird lol) so….anyway—I digress.

Thank you for reading.

[cowboysandpilots]

Hangster Ask

A hitchhiker, who favors the heart over the head.

A bed and breakfast owner, who has become jaded.

It's a romance-tinged story about accidental love. It kicks off near the beach with someone being accused of theft. (Note that: someone in the story is still haunted by a past mistake.)

And there's a twist! The best friend gets the happy ending first.

You don't have to do all of it, just pieces if you find something interesting.

(I LOVE the hitchhiker and b&b owner concept, so I went with that. Thank you 💕)

—

Jake really should've thought things through more before he decided to leave his whole life behind with nothing but the clothes on his back. In his defence, things had become boring, and the only thing he could think to do was to get out. To make something exciting happen.

He stood on the side of the road with his thumb out, thankful that it was a rare nice day, not too hot and not raining. It wasn't torture to stand outside for hours which is what Jake ended up doing. People were pretty weary of letting a random person into their car, but he had made it this far, and he couldn't just go back now.

At some point, his legs started to ache from pacing along the side of the road, and he found a small patch of grass where he could sit down for just a minute. Only after his ass makes contact with the ground does someone pull over and wave him up, inviting him over.

The driver asks Jake where he wants to go, and he realizes that he has no earthly idea where he wants to go or what the hell he's doing. "Uh... just the nearest place, I guess." He shrugs.

The driver gives him a curious look but starts driving anyway and doesn't say another word until they pull up to small and very homey looking bed and breakfast. The only reason that Jake knows it's a bed and breakfast is because of the sign out at the front. If there was no sign, he probably would have assumed that it was somebody's house.

"This is it."

He wasn't going to argue with the man, he had asked to be taken to the nearest place, and here it was. Given the loose parameters of what Jake had asked for, he was just grateful that it wasn't somebody's house. What would he do then, just get out and hope someone else picked him up?

Jake got out of the truck, feet hitting the pavement with a rough slap, and he waved the driver off as a thank you before he walked up the small stone walkway to the modest white house with a balcony across the top and the bottom and a blue door at the front.

Bradley never thought that he would be running a bed and breakfast. It was always his mom's gig, but after she passed away, he felt a responsibility to take it over. He hadn't wanted to hand it off to someone who might ruin everything she had built.

At first, he enjoyed it, but as time went on, and fewer and fewer people cared about going to bed and breakfasts over the choice of a hotel, he couldn't help but feel like he was doing the exact thing he thought all those prospective buyers would do, failing his mom.

A knock at the door pulled Bradley from his thoughts. Most people, once they saw the 'open' sign, just walked right in and never knocked. He got up out of his chair at the dining room table and went to open the door with a soft sigh.

Even looking at the beautiful, slightly dishevelled man standing on the other side of the door, Bradley couldn't get up the motivation to give him more than a soft smile and a flat greeting. He should maybe work on his customer service; it used to be much better, but years of this place wearing him down had left him exhausted all the way down to his bones.

"You have any rooms available?" Jake asks brightly, pulling Bradley yet again from his cloudy head.

"Yeah, lots of 'em. You looking for one?" Of course, he was; why else would he be here? But the words left Bradley's mouth before he could stop them, stepping aside to let the man in. He moved behind the small front desk and pulled a key off the hook.

"How much?" The man asks, and even though he's already reaching into his pocket for his wallet and Bradley knows nothing of his story, he feels a strange urge to give the man a discounted price on his room. A gentle voice inside his head that sounds suspiciously like his mom.

"$50," Bradley answers easily, half price; that should be enough to get the ghost of his mom off his back.

Jake nods and pulls $50 of cash out of his wallet, and sets it on the wooden desk. "I'm Jake, by the way." He smiles, and again, Bradley's smile doesn't reach his tired eyes.

"Bradley."

"It's nice to meet you, Bradley." Jake gives a wink and wanders off to go find the room number that's printed on his key tag. If he wasn't so eager to get a shower, he would've stayed to get to know the brooding owner some more.

It didn't take long for Bradley to become interested in Jake. Who he was and where he came from. It was hard not to when Jake was the only occupant that Bradley had in over a week. There wasn't much to do except talk to each other. Bradley was the only worker, and Jake was the only guest.

Things started off with Bradley cooking Jake's meals like he was supposed to, but after about a week of Jake living there, it turned into the two of them cooking together. Slowly, Jake could feel his attempts to get Bradley out of his shell working. The man was smiling more, he seemed lighter, and he didn't flinch away when Jake leaned in a little too close.

Jake had always been very big on one philosophy, and that is, 'Don't think, just do.' It had been working out for him so far, that's how he ended up here, so when his brain was screaming at him again to do something after two weeks alone with the older man, he pulled Bradley in and kissed him square on the mouth.

It was a miracle to Jake when Bradley didn't immediately pull away. When he kisses back with just as much enthusiasm as Jake gave him and even pulls him in by his hips. The pair only separate from each other, breathless and flushed, when the little bell on the door rings.

—

✨Request a $1 blurb?✨

[blackjackkent]

The guards inside the creche entrance round on them with startling rapidity the moment they show their faces.

"Sentries! To arms!" one of them snaps. Her eyes fix on Rakha in a sharp glare like that which she has often seen in Lae'zel's expression. "Istik. State your purpose - quickly."

"Stand down, gish," Lae'zel snaps back, equally sharp. "Is it not Vlaakith's command to welcome her faithful?"

"I expected no visitors, faithful or otherwise," the guard says coolly. "Why have you come?"

Rakha's eyes narrow warily. The antagonistic tone sends a flicker of irritation through her, something that could easily spiral into something more. But for Lae'zel's sake, she keeps her tone even with an effort of will. "I was infected by an illithid," she says. Little point in dancing around the subject; Lae'zel has made it clear that this is something the gith know of already - along with how to deal with it. "And was told to seek a githyanki creche."

She waits for the gish to direct them - but instead, the other woman's eyes widen and her mouth sets in a thin line.

"You are infected?" She spits the word out like a curse. "A ghaik thrall is something to eradicate, not reason with."

Her hand is already going towards her sword, and Rakha feels her pulse start to thump in her temple with the sense of impending battle. But Lae'zel's voice cuts across the moment, shattering it.

"The faithful may be purified!" she snaps. "This is Vlaakith's protocol!"

(A/N: I remember being a little baffled by this on my first playthrough - that Lae'zel seems so confident about this while it seems like literally every other githyanki clearly already knows the score. It makes sense for Voss to be like 'nah actually you're gonna die' - he's already rebelling against Vlaakith - but even this random guard goes straight past the cleansing concept and straight to 'time to eradicate this thrall.'

I find it kind of interesting tbh.

On the one hand - clearly this is partly a manifestation of how young Lae'zel is under all that confidence. The implication seems to be that yeah, it's hammered into you in your training that you need to report to a ghustil and get "purified" if you're ever infected, but that once you're actually out on duty it becomes an open secret that "purification" is just another word for death; Lae'zel just didn't happen to get that far before the nautiloid picked her up.

However - this leads to other questions. How are there not more rebels, if it's common to reach a point where you realize the purification lie is nonsense? What is the party line within these more adult units? Alternatively - is K'liir unique (and uniquely cruel) in framing it as a salvation, and every other creche treats it like a necessary sacrifice on behalf of the greater group?

IDK, I'm getting rambly here but it's intriguing to ponder. The whole creche sequence, if I'm honest, isn't always entirely clear in its writing, but if some of the minor holes are extrapolated I think it gets kind of interesting. :D )

The guard stares at Lae'zel for a long moment, reading her expression very carefully. Then she nods slowly, her lip curling with evident disdain. "Chk. Fine. Let the ghustil carry out your fate. Report to the infirmary at once."

Her eyes move over Rakha and the others briefly, then back to Lae'zel. "And step carefully. Creche Y'llek watches you."

-----

"She did not expect us to request purification," Rakha mutters matter-of-factly as they walk on further into the creche.

"I know," Lae'zel says curtly.

"You said it was a protocol. A standard procedure."

"It is," Lae'zel hisses. "That she did not honor it is no fault of mine."

"Voss also did not."

"Voss is a traitor. Should I find him again, I shall feed him pieces of his own skull."

Rakha tries hard to ignore the way the beast in her head shivers at this mental image. "But why do they deny it?"

"I don't know!" Lae'zel snaps at her; her voice whips out like a weapon, sharp as the blade on her back. "These inane questions serve nothing. Let us find the ghustil and finish matters."

[mostly-delusional]

I tried posting this shit like 3 fucking times but tumblr just won't go through with it so i had to make a whole ass separate post sorry 😭 this is in continuation to this post (for those who have no clue what I'm talking about) @abla-soso

yes, as it so happens, i am considerably new to the fandom. which is probably why i haven't seen the side of it you're referring to. and yet i still stand by my initial point of not throwing around words at random. you can't go around calling anyone a misogynist just because the fandom overall is shitty. you can't go around calling me a misogynist even tho I haven't ever participated in any of the stuff you mentioned above (idk why the fuck do i have to defend myself lmao but apparently i do).

the post this all started with was simply a meme referencing a scene from the latest episode. there are a thousand ways you could've taken it instead of straight up assuming I'm a raging women-hater lol. and then you mentioned another one of my posts where I called her misinterpretation a foolish mistake, again assuming the same thing.

"if the king's words are law [...] then Alicent would have been obligated to respect the king's dying words".

are you fr rn? 😭 "blaming a woman for what men did?" did you not read what i wrote? or maybe you just couldn't be bothered to understand? or maybe you would rather pick and choose and come to conclusions based on whatever conveniently furthers your own rigid opinion of me? not once did i throw all blame on alicent's shoulders. not once did i say she was the only one responsible for the events that went down. what i did say was that she was complicit in the act (which, according to the dictionary, does not equal to me saying she is the only one to blame).

"Otto is the fucking snake who schemed for decades to usurp the throne (the prophecy is fucking irrelevant to his plans). Viserys is the fucking dumb bitch who never undermined his daughter's claim by having legitimate sons and not bothering to codify her claim through a binding legalised law (giving any lord the legal justification to dismiss Rhaenyra's claim). Amond was the irresponsible brat who charged at Rhaenyra's brat and killed (being the actual one who kick started the violence)."

bro where did i excuse or defend any of the men you mentioned above? otto is a piece of shit and i won't bother talking about him (will agree with you about him being the mastermind of the entire usurping and the one behind all of alicent's suffering).

i multiple times agreed with you about viserys being a shitty father/husband and you still somehow think I'm defending him. so I'll state it here again to appease you: viserys was a shitty father to every single one of his children. he sidelined his own fucking daughter because all he wanted was a son. which led to his wife losing five of her children: one dead in the cradle, two stillbirths, two miscarriages. aemma was forced to have children over and over again despite everything she went through as a result of those pregnancies. and that bitch of a man killed his wife (there's no other way I'm going to interpret that scene), had her cut open just so he could have the son he always wanted (even tho aemma kept insisting she was scared and she wanted them to just fucking stop). he only named rhaenyra heir because daemon was too rash and impulsive for the task and there was no other better option. he considered marrying a literal fucking child only to turn around and marry a slightly older child. alicent was manipulated and disgustingly pushed into a marriage (by her greedy dick of a father) with a man who was decades older than her (not saying viserys was resistant to the marriage before you go ahead and call me shit for that too). she was maritally raped, forced to have children when she herself was a child. then comes aegon. viserys had the son he always wanted. and although he had already named rhaenyra his heir, he should have been there for his children. he should've played a role in their upbringing. instead he was— like you mentioned earlier— a deadbeat father. he couldn't be bothered to pay attention to the things happening right under his nose. he couldn't be bothered to acknowledge and do something about the resentment festering between rhaenyra, alicent, and their children. he was downright horrendous for a lot of shit that he did. nobody is fucking defending that. i'm not defending that.

you're right about aemond and I'll agree with you on that. him killing luke was one of the major reasons behind the dance and why everything went down to shit so quick.

i had no fucking idea that if i don't explicitly mention how i hate every man in the show and say that they were a piece of shit every time i talk about alicent, I'll be labelled all kinds of stuff. but there you go. does that make you feel better?

i said all that and i will still stand by the fact that alicent was complicit in the entire plan. she was a part of it. most of what i said was centred around alicent because that's who my original post was about and that's who we were talking about.

and i knew you'd make the "she was protecting her children argument". to that I would say: so was rhaenyra. alicent never left an opportunity to call rhaenyra's children bastards. she instilled hatred for luke and jace in her son's minds for years. to the point where aemond almost bashed one of their heads in, leading him (aemond) to lose an eye. yeah, she was protecting her children when she let aegon bully aemond to no end, so long as it didn't happen within public eye. yeah, she was protecting her children by completely ignoring her rapist of a son (I'm sure you have some kind of explanation for that too). she was being protective of her children when she spread rumours about the legitimacy of rhaenyra's children. it was only out of protectiveness over her children that she shamed and ridiculed rhaenyra for years. it couldn't have possibly been anything else. sure. (I'm never going to be convinced her attitude towards rhaenyra was solely a result of her fear for her children).

"her snake of a father convinced her they'll be killed for merely existing as potential rivals to Rhaenyra's claim"

that was the same argument used by the greens as an explanation for why rhaenyra and her children had to die. since they so graciously placed aegon's ass on the throne, it was only reasonable to kill rhaenyra and all her children because they were the biggest contenders for the throne and had a rightful claim to it. right. this was the same argument alicent used to ingrain resentment towards jace and luke in her son's mind.

and yes, she is also responsible for starting the war (as most of the characters are, in one way or another). because— might come as a shock to you— alicent went along with everything her family was planning. she is not as innocent as you want her to be but that's not a conversation you're willing to have (again, because apparantly everything has to be explicitly stated, I'm not saying she's the only one who's ever done anything wrong in her life. every single character on the show has done some or other awful shit. neither side is completely innocent. but alicent is the one I'm particularly talking about in this post). you're so adamant about alicent being oh so innocent and saintly that you're taking away all kinds of nuance, complexity, and moral ambiguity from her and turning her into some kind of mary sue with absolutely no fucking agency. because— "this might blow your mind"— but having trauma doesn't absolve someone from being wrong or making mistakes or facing the consequences of their own conscious fucking actions. there's only so much about someone that you can excuse using their past suffering. there has to come a point where a character needs to be held accountable for their actions and choices instead of justifying all of it in the name of trauma. but that's clearly not something you're ready to talk about.

I'm sure you'll still manage to pick something up from what i said and turn around and say "look!! misogyny!! you're a disgusting piece of shit!!" because apparently saying anything negative about a female character is a heinous crime. female characters aren't supposed to be morally corrupt. they aren't supposed to be wrong. they are only two dimensional. they can't have depth. they're all fucking mary sues.

this is the last time I'm adding anything to this argument conversation because we'll start going around in circles after a certain point and the whole thing will be pointless. so whatever opinion you hold of me after reading all of it is going to be your problem.

(also,,, I'm sorry if my tone offended you, i wasn't trying to be condescending or anything, i was just too goddamn pissed when i wrote this. have a good day <33)

[neopuff]

Little timeline I've been using in my GenRex fics. I know there's only supposed to be one year between Six finding Rex and Promises, Promises, but I don't like that it's such a short amount of time so I made it two years lol It's fine, I can ignore canon sometimes (slams my head thru drywall) I'm good at that it's fine

Rex is presumably 14 when Six finds him. They celebrate his 16th (or ?) birthday in Nov 2010, but when Caesar arrives they would learn Rex's real birthday (I picked April 'cause I wanted something earlier in the year) and so Rex would be 17 in S3

I also really want Rex to have had a blackout at some point while at Providence. I would've liked it to be earlier but the timeline really doesn't work out lol I mean it doesn't really work in timeline anyway but I don't caaaaaaare. Six says "You only remember the last 18 months" in Wasteland, which I assume is letting the audience know that 6 months have passed between Promises, Promises and Wasteland but I'm just shortening up that timeline. They can rebuild Providence HQ faster than that it's alright

Some notes:

One would've been an EVO for more than 5 years in Divide By Six but I figure it's okay to round down. 5 years sounds more dramatic than 5 and a half years

(Plus Caesar says he missed five years in Mixed Signals even though the Nanite Event was five years prior to The Day That Everything Changed, which means characters are doing a lot of rounding)

A Family Holiday would be Beverly's 18th birthday

This isn't referenced in the above image but I put Holiday at 33 and Six at 35 (start of series). Noah calling her 28 doesn't make her actually 28, he is a 16 year old boy he doesn't know how old women are

Holiday and Six got in less than a month of dating before Six Minus Six lol

And Six got about 2-3 weeks to get to know Rex before Lions and Lambs

Uhhh hmm. Anything else? Sorry I typed this all once and lost it all so I'm trying to remember what else I had.

OH YES a pre-Providence Rex timeline with a focus on his amnesia blackouts. Here we go:

Late 2004/Early 2005: Rex has an accident in Abysus. His family infuses him with nanites to help save his life. Rex has his first mini-blackout (not full amnesia, but he starts to have trouble remembering bits and pieces) due to the accident or the nanites it's hard to say. While his body adjusts to the nanites, he has a bunch of mini-blackouts and starts forgetting important things. He starts keeping a digital notebook around Feb/March 2005

April 2005: Nanite Event - Rex blacks out due to the shockwave/trauma/both. He turns into the Giant Robot EVO Thing and flies out of Europe. Heads in a random direction and ends up tired and without memory in Hong Kong. He still has his digital notebook and it's kind of the only thing that keeps him sane

Mid 2005 - Mid 2008: Rex in Hong Kong. He starts working for Quarry because he needs to make money/get food somehow. He also meets the Hong Kong Gang one-by-one and they become good friends, though Rex is secretive and anxious and paranoid. Incident with Scarecrow doesn't help.

Mid 2008: Rex knows he has family in Mexico thanks to an early entry in his digital notebook and decides he wants to find them. Quarry agrees to help Rex get to Mexico if he makes a deal with him. Rex hasn't blacked out in so long and is feeling confident about finding his family (Quarry told him he had a contact in Mexico City who would help Rex out) so he doesn't think he needs the notebook anymore. Quarry keeps it as collateral.

Nov 2008: Rex gets to Mexico but he is lost and scared and Quarry lied about having anyone there to help him out. Rex has another blackout (combination of stress and guilt) and turns into the Giant Robot EVO Thing again. Six finds him and brings him to Providence.

Aug 2009: Rex has another blackout while training with Six (something similar to what happened in Frostbite). Holiday and Six don't realize this is a Thing with him so they just start over from the beginning. Training is easier and faster now that they know how Rex's powers work and they're prepared for everything. Six gets Rex some goggles, Holiday gets Rex some gloves.

[odyssean-flower]

ok i played the new story update in hsr and here are my thoughts

warning: it's kinda negative

first things first: yeah i know this isn't the end of the xianzhou story, there are six ships after all and i guess luofu is supposed to be like the opening act to a bigger conflict with the aeons but m a n the execution was not good

the 1.3 story is more like an epilogue, which is fine, but it really should have been added to the previous patch. tbh the luofu story didn't need to be stretched over three patches with its overall length

i feel like everything went wrong when they decided to make the dan shu quests optional instead. i feel like they had to scrap a lot of stuff because of that? i agree that the dan shu quests felt out of place but they could have moved it around instead of just cutting them out of the main storyline. It's fully voiced after all and it has interesting lore

the problem is that the writers wanted to incorporate so many concepts but didn't want to (or can't) increase the length of the story. There are so much stuff going on like the conflict between Lan and Yaoshi, the bad side to immortality, the vidyadhara politics, the stellaron and the lord ravager, the sanctus medicus, dan heng & dan feng, dan heng and blade, the stellaron hunters, the high-cloud quintet, luocha, but all of these things only get brief moments of spotlight before we move on to something else. it makes everything feel kind of inconsequential and confusing

Especially the dan heng il thing which really should have been the main point of the story. his transformation is cool but it also feels random. the opening cutscene with blade also comes off as baffling in retrospect bc he didn't really do or explain anything??

i think they tried to rectify this by making the companion quests (like yanqing's and dhil's) basically main quests but they only raise more questions that may or may not get a definite answer. also these quests are optional

the ending is so abrupt, but they still try to tease continuations (see: jingliu and luocha cutscene at the end) even though we're leaving?? and who knows when these threads will get picked up again

Another problem i have: the vagueness of the lore and story. We finally know what dan feng's sin is...kind of. We maybe kind of know what happened to baiheng. tingyun's dead...or is she??? the writers love teasing resolutions instead of giving them, and it's honestly annoying. And im saying this as a genshin lore fan who loves finding random readables and trying to piece together what happened

The high-cloud quintet: ok this might be an unpopular opinion but i don't really care about them. maybe it's just my inherent dislike for the trope of "super elite group full of hot people who have a lot of history with each other and they feel sad about it :(" but they are just not doing anything for me right now. I like them all individually but as a group? meh. Part of the problem is that their lore is scattered all over the place and is very vague, so you really have to read between the lines and speculate in order to get their story, which requires a certain amount of investment from the start. i repeat that im a genshin lore player, but the thing about genshin lore is that it's not needed to understand the main story most of the time. Important stuff about the characters, on the other hand? tbh i care way more about spina di rosula trio or the narzissenkreuz people, and most of those people are npcs (faceless even)

honestly high-cloud quintet deserved a world quest chain or something instead of just (a very nice) animated short. as it is now i don't know why we would ever revisit them in the future considering dan heng doesn't want anything to do with them. maybe a rematch with blade?

tldr xianzhou had a lot of cool ideas but the execution was bad. oh well at least it had jing yuan

[aquilamage]

had a small random burst of aa inspiration and whipped up an excerpt of the untitled aai2 au. context: I didn’t want Kay Seb and Badd in the same place until Forgotten but couldn’t find any good reason for Badd not to be at the Zodiac Gallery. So I took Kay and Sebastian out of Inherited. Kay goes digging for info on what happened to Sebastian (or at least tries to). Except then she runs into him and they continue to butt heads. These bits are before and after that scene

.

To avoid Badd having any last-minute suspicions about her outing, Kay strategically waited in her room until after he left (accidentally slept in until her 10:00 alarm). She was still yawning as she made her way to the door to put on her shoes. When she picked up the second one, she noticed a piece of paper stuck in it.

Snacks in fridge.

Dropping the shoe, she ran over to check. Sure enough, on the middle shelf was a small lunchbox. Its contents: cheese sticks and pepperoni, apple slices in water with side compartments of peanut butter and cinnamon sugar, some homemade chocolate chip granola bars, and a little bag of pretzels.

She stared at it. Well, now she felt a little bad about lying. Not bad enough to change her mind. She needed to uncover the truth here, with or without his approval.

.

She made her way out of the Prosecutor’s Offices with a bit less caution than when she’d come in. (Almost no one who might even recognize her was left, anyway.) Jumping all the stairs from the outside doors to the sidewalk, she cut across the grass in the direction of the nearest bus stop.

Dropping her weight against the plastic back wall of the bus shelter, she huffed out a sigh. Well, that had been stupid. Not only had she gotten to do zero digging, but Sebastian had turned out to be just as insufferably...Like That...when he was alone as any other time. After that disaster, he’d lost all rights to her even dropping hints about who she was. (If she hadn’t seen him stumble over so many other seemingly obvious hints, she would’ve thought he had to be doing it on purpose.) Ugh. If she didn’t see him for another month, it would be too soon.

Someone had walked into the bus stop moments ago and she’d ignored them, busy glaring at a plastic bottle on the ground and bouncing on her feet as she ruminated. But then the hair on the back of her neck prickled too much to ignore the impulse to look.

It was Sebastian. Standing at the far diagonal of the shelter, staring, baton threatening to snap out of his grip. “What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here?” she retorted. Based on everything else, she thought he would’ve gotten his own brand new car the moment he was old enough to drive.

His expression scrunched. “I asked you first!”

She put her hands on her hips. “I asked you second.”

For a moment, he continued to watch her with what was probably meant to be a glare but was actually a squint and a wobbly pout. Then, with a huff, he spun around to stomp off.

Right as it began to absolutely pour.

He shrieked and tripped over himself running backward into the shelter.

Kay sighed to herself. Pulling out her phone, she slid along the wall until she got to the point furthest from the bench. After a minute of Sebastian not moving she said, still not looking up, “You can sit. I don’t want to.”

It took another long moment, but finally he went and sat. Still not talking, which she was thankful for.

Opening her internet browser, she flicked through the hundred plus tabs she had open to locate that one article on knot tying she’d been meaning to read. Nah, not that one. Or that one. Ooh, a parkour technique video.

She’d just gotten through the initial explanation segment when she heard a low stomach growl. She looked down at her own with a frown before almost immediately remembering Sebastian. Hm. Well that was his problem. She started up the video again.

It happened again. Despite herself, she couldn’t help but be a little impressed. Getting through her earbuds and the incessant drum of rain.

(She did still have most of her snacks in her bag, her brain reminded her.)

Her finger hovered over the play button.

(...And Seb always really liked the granola bars every time she’d brought them to school.)

With a sigh, Kay yanked out the container in the same motion as she crossed the couple steps over to hold it out in offering.

He flinched once as she approached, and then a smaller one when she dropped it in his lap.

“You, uh, sounded hungry.” She rocked on her heels.

“Oh.” He lifted the lid cautiously. “Thanks?”

“Yeah sure,” she said quickly, scooting back to her corner. “Just give me the container back.”

She put her earbuds back in, but didn’t start the video up. Not yet. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him pick one up. It was silly, to think that just tasting the snack would be enough to make him recognize her, after everything else. That was something out of a story.

...But it also wasn’t impossible.

If that was even what she wanted anymore, she thought again, stomach turning.

He paused, frowning slightly, after his first bite, but otherwise didn’t visibly react. (Also still not taking his gloves off, despite the fact that he was definitely gonna get chocolate on them. So he really did wear those all the time. Maybe it was a texture thing? He’d had a bunch of texture things in school.

So she went back to her video.

Nearly at the end, absorbed in calculating how long she might take to learn it (and how spectacularly she could injure herself if she messed up), Kay startled when he interjected, too loud, “Hey?”

From his expression as she turned, he hadn’t expected the volume either. “Um, what time is it?”

“2:13.”

He nodded, biting his lip. Hands gripping the bench, he rocked slightly, now staring out into the rain.

“...Is your bus late?”

He tensed, and then tears started to collect at the corners of his eyes. “Yeah,” he squeaked.

With an internal sigh, she began pulling up the bus system tracker. “What number is it?”

“Thirty-four.”

Kay froze. That’s my route. Not the one she was currently waiting for: the one that went right by her childhood home. It was the kind of thing she would have laughed and commented about, if she was talking to a friend. Or a friendly acquaintance. Or a stranger. “Yeah, it says that one showed up like, super early. And the next one’s at 2:40.”

He nodded, still in the same pose.

When he didn’t give any other response, she rolled her eyes and looked back at her phone. She swapped over to one of her game apps, but just as it loaded she realized. Of course that was Sebastian's bus route; she could have guessed before she even asked him. He was probably still living in the same house, the one he'd grown up in – safe, familiar, with his parents the whole time-

Her throat burned like acid. She had so much energy: to scream, to stomp, to run out into the rain all the way back to the apartment. Instead, she threw herself to the ground, wrapping her arms around her knees. Sebastian moved out of the corner of her eye, but she ignored him. He didn't say or do anything else. Good. If she had to talk with him right now she'd explode.

She stayed like that until her bus came, then ran for the door. Sebastian yelled something after her, but she ignored him, sitting on the far side of the aisle and refusing to think about any of the day all the way back home.

[mrsmoonlightsblog]

Absolute rage consumes me as I write this piece

This essay will contain many topics: mentions of struggling mental health; first hand experience of sexual harassment; thoughts of murder and suicidal thoughts.

Absolute rage consumes me as I write this piece. I am utterly mortified at the realisation that has hit me of what it truly is to be a woman in today’s society. Yes, I have written essays about how disadvantaged women are in society and how badly they are treated. I have had a couple experiences of scary men but nothing that would amount to what I have experienced today.

I have to admit I don’t currently live for myself. For example, what I wear is dictated by the idea that I don’t want to be approached in a way where I’m belittled to just my body parts. Yet, I have just registered in my mind that no matter what you wear you will still be approached in ways you don’t like. Majority of the time, I wear clothes that are a bit bigger on me so my figure doesn’t show and at first I thought it was just my fashion choice but really it was just fear holding onto me from past experiences of being catcalled in leggings and dresses while being in just year 7.

Today, my parents sent me on a mission to find some ice - cream since shops close early on a sunday and we had just cooked horrible waffles, which could not be wasted. Originally, my sister was supposed to go but she didn’t want to because it was raining. So I went and she followed me. I’m walking through the street and someone ran past me. A black man -probably in his 20s. He wore dirty white joggers, a zipped hoodie and shoes. He turned around and started making hand gestures that I’m guessing was supposed to be a warning signal and was saying stuff that would most likely be curse words. I thought nothing of it because it’s just another day strolling through peckham. My little sister was still trudging behind while I walked into the first corner shop.There was no ice- cream so I walked back out to the street and waited for my sister at the crossing.

We crossed the road together and restarted our mission to the next corner shop. I saw the same man again; he stood near a bus stop signal. He walked right past me again and being honest I knew he was saying something to me but all I heard was gibberish. This time I started to pick up my pace cause I was getting anxious. He crossed the street but I still kept an eye on him. He looked at me as if I offended him terribly but I do not know who this man was. He walked off into another street or so I thought. I started picking my pace a bit faster and I looked back to see that he was once again on my tail. I started shaking and called my mother. I told her the situation I was in, she suggested I get into a bus and go to another corner shop a bit further.

The call was cut; I decided to call one of my friends to feel safer and then I walked into the last corner shop on the street. There was no ice- cream so I walked back out. As I walked out the shop, the man following me was clearly looking for me and I didnt realise that till too late. I bumped into him and walked away quickly. If I'm being honest, although I held my sister’s hand, I did not cross the road safely at all. At this point, I was shaking and crying out of fear, so I didn’t care. Fortunately, the bus came at that minute so I hopped on and went to the other corner shops.

The specific ice - cream I was looking for was not in any shops so I went back home. I got sent back out again by myself to just get any ice - cream. At this point, I just felt confused as to what I had just experienced. My phone died. I was walking back home with some random ice-cream in hand. The tears were finally starting to dry. Then all of a sudden, a black car slowed down. I looked over to see another black man, sucking in his teeth and whistling at me telling me to get into his car. Absolute rage consumed me and I was barking profanities at this guy. He finally drove off but he was laughing at me and flipping me off just like I flipped him off. Once again, water works left the windows of my soul but this time I wasn’t just upset. I was furious but I couldn't express it as having a tantrum by hitting the wall and stomping my feet. Instead, I was laughing. If anyone saw me at that moment you would’ve thought I was crazy and delusional. However I just couldn't help myself. 

I guess I’ve finally realised the meaning of being mature,living in this broken society. I can’t report what happened. Even my own parents can't do anything but tell me to get used to it and learn how to defend myself. It’s wicked how this uk government is by caring more about the physical injuries my attackers face through me defending myself, then me being the victim facing this traumatic situation. I googled what the only legal ‘weapon’ I could carry around with me was. I found the results shocking - a rape alarm. The law - makers of this country must be having a laugh. They must be finding some kind of sadistic joy in seeing women suffer. What would an alarm do, especially in a society today that likes to ignore people’s cry for help? I should wait for a strong man to come and help me while another strong man is abusing me - the irony.

 I can really see why they ban weapons though at the same time. If I had a knife in that moment of abosulte rage, I would’ve carved into the face of that stupid,smirking man. I would’ve stabbed him multiple times out of pure anger just to remove that laughing smile off his face. He would’ve looked prettier coated in his own blood, laying back in his car with the life drained out of his eyes. You may think what I’m thinking is absurd or an exaggeration to what happened. But to be honest, this interaction was more than just another catcall. It was the power imbalance expressed during those moments. In these moments, I felt weak and ashamed. I even took seconds to look at what I was wearing to see whether any curves were showing and nothing was. If this experience happened while I was in my suicidal ‘phase’, I would’ve certainly just unalive myself after that experience. I would've finally stabbed myself with a knife, jumped off the edge or walked into a busy road. It was more than just a few gestures expressed, it was just the fact I was a defenceless young woman who had nothing to give but fear. The smirk on both of their ugly faces said that they enjoyed the look of tears running down my face.

It’s easy for me to demand change in the legal aspects. There are already a few laws put in place to ��protect’ victims but that's clearly not enough because society plays a huge role. For my parents to dismiss my experience as nothing but something I should just get used to is very heart - breaking but I can’t blame them because that’s how society is. Society normalises a lot of detrimental things to the point that people don’t even realise they are victims or abusers to one another. We are taught so many questionable things, that if we even try to question it we are ridiculed, hence the hate for feminism.  Sexual /street harrasment has become so normalised it’s part of society and its a thing every woman should expect happen to them. However, this should not be the case. I should not have to suffer because I am a woman. I should not have to feel that I need to dress a certain way so I wouldn't get the ‘wrong attention’. Even when I proceed to do that, I still get harassed because I’m a woman. A young black woman in a white man’s world. Its certainly revolting realising that i have to go through these experiences over and over again because I’m a woman and if im being very honest, I may go demented if I continue to be on the recieving end on this animalistic behaviour. 

I refuse to be on the receiving end. I refuse to carry on this heinous trend of teaching future generations to just deal with the misplaced anger they feel from these incidents. My anger is completely valid and I'm telling myself right now it was not my fault, it was the fault of the evil society I was born into. I refuse to continue to blame myself for things I did not do. I refuse to be a victim of my own excruciating thoughts letting my panic/anxiety attacks get in the way of living the best I could. I refuse to suffocate because that's what my body tells me to do in these traumatic situations. I want to be happy, what’s so wrong about that. Why has this world forced me into this deep end, just because I am a young, black Nigerian woman who looks and acts mature for my age. Don’t they realise children are growing up too fast because of how twisted society is. It’s not my fault at all and I will keep telling myself this. 

Yet, even at this moment, my thoughts are juxtaposing themselves. I want to tell myself it's not my fault but part of me is reducing myself to rubbish saying I'm the one who caused this to happen. It's not my fault they all say but whose fault is it. I say it's society but saying that seems so ridiculous and unacceptable. I'm second-guessing myself, but confusion litters my mind. However, who am I supposed to blame for these thoughts that dwell in my mind? The fact that the first thing that comes to my mind after experiencing this is murder is very concerning. I could be the next serial killer on an evil vendetta in the future for all I know. However, I pray society does not let us fall down that wicked path. I pray society does not let me carry on suffering from these insane thoughts. 

[veebs-hates-video-games]

Since the last post I've mostly been playing Xenoblade Chronicles: Definitive Edition, because I kept seeing posts about stuff from XC1 and hadn't played it since the Wii version. Now there's a game that's still great. Also a couple other things I just started, but those can wait until I'm further in them to get their own posts.

What actually prompted this though was Subnautica finally going on sale for $10 again instead of various higher prices it's been for a while now. Steam tried to warn me by pointing out that I deliberately blocked the tags "open world survival craft" and "survival horror", but it can't save me from myself. Subnautica got grandfathered in when I made the decision to stop pretending I might like games like that because enough people managed to sell me on the atmosphere and general vibes before that.

Well, turns out I still don't like survival crafting games, whether they're Subnautica or No Man's Sky or Don't Starve or whatever other ones are almost universally acknowledged to be both very good and very popular.

I knew things were off to a good start when I found the text speed slider in the settings. I adjusted it to match my reading speed, which is significantly faster than the default, and then I discovered that that wasn't a good idea. If the subtitles are specifically for the spoken dialogue, just time the subtitles to the dialogue and be done with it. Changing the speed just makes them go away faster, like three words into a sentence that's still being read for a while with no text on the screen, which seems both unintuitive and not useful. Maybe there's some situation where someone would want that, but I can't think of it (possibly because I only have minor hearing problems and am somewhat out of the loop with what actual deaf people prefer?).

Anyway, the game seemed desperate to not give me any information on anything, or to tell me what to do, or to tell me what I even could do or how. That's in theory fine when the entire point of the game is exploration and discovery, but at least give me an initial shove in a direction. It did vaguely hint at stuff, but for like 45 minutes I just felt like every time I tried to follow up on some vague suggestion it just led to a whole bunch of stuff I had no way to interact with or stuff that killed me. Sometimes both if I was lucky.

If you want me to want to explore stuff, maybe reward my exploration? Maybe I just consistently picked the wrong way to go for most of an hour, but I just kept finding a whole lot of nothing I could do anything with. I joked on Discord that maybe in another 20 minutes I'd find a second piece of copper ore and could finally make something useful...and then it did actually take that long somehow. I found lots of sea life and random wreckage, but with zero way to interact with any of it it might as well have been completely inert or not there at all.

By like an hour and a half I was ready to give up and had lost interest, but in the process it also kind of made me want to stop pretending I'm going to go back to Outer Wilds and finish it and just uninstall that along with Subnautica too. Totally different kind of game, but I find the progression in it frustrating too after a point. In survival games I feel like I'm wasting so much time just surviving and not actually making a lot of meaningful forward progress on building up my character or abilities or tools or exploring the world or anything, while at maybe halfway through Outer Wilds I was starting to get a similar feeling from spending so much of my time doing the same stuff over and over again to make relatively small progress because there's no way to just skip directly back to where I was. Absolutely fascinating game and world, but the fundamental structure of it just makes some stuff feel really tedious for me.

And thinking about all that made me realize it's a lot of the same stuff that makes me not get along with Breath of the Wild either. Other Zelda games, even the original that BotW is supposedly trying to get back to, generally have a particular kind of consistent progression in them. No matter where you're going and what you're doing, you're still finding new parts of the world and new ways to interact with the world. Each new item you get opens up possibilities for how to interact with the world and solve problems, both in terms of puzzles and combat. BotW gives you nearly all your tools in the tutorial, and then the entire rest of the game has extremely minimal of that sort of progression. You don't keep getting new tools every couple hours, and with the constantly breaking weapons you don't even get a consistent stream of upgrades there either. Unlike most other Zelda games it really just felt like I was treading water and never being rewarded with new ways of playing the game, and for me that kinda sucks.

I can happily spend far too many hours playing a Warriors/Musou game, sometimes even when the overall rate of progression is slower than in games like these, because it always feels like I am progressing no matter what. It's just really unsatisfying to me to have this constant backward movement that I have to spend 80% of my time in the game compensating for.

Anyway, thanks Subnautica for being the last game on my list in this genre and for me finally accepting and acknowledging that I never have to play stuff like this again even if everyone else I know likes it. Now I can go back to silently dreading that Tears of the Kingdom, the next game in one of my favorite series, won't change any of those things from BotW at all.