#but also a whole load of original works too that i do want to come back to

[camellia-thea]

finally clearing my works off google docs and onto my ancient version of word and i keep going "oh wow i forgot i wrote that"

[artificialbreezy]

so many thoughts, here they are. Girl dad Matt coming in HOT i have more thoughts too, will make a part 2 if you want

this is just really fluffy okay? i’m so soft for him

there’s so many dude, so there’s a cut to not clog up the dash

when he finds out your pregnant, he’s literally crying. he’s so happy. goes right up to your belly, “hi baby, i’m your daddy. i’m so fucking excited to meet you.”

immediately starts planning the nursery tbh

stuck between winnie the pooh or lord of the rings

settles on lord of the rings because “the plants will be soothing and it’ll be neutral and not harsh on her eyes!”

“Matty, we don’t know if she’s a girl yet.”

“i know it!! i know she is, i just do.”

he was right, she was in fact a girl.

you guys didn’t wanna wait, the doctor asked and Matt immediately said “we can’t wait, please.”

“it’s a girl! and she’s looking as healthy as can be too.”

he’s crying again, you’re crying again. he just stands up and kisses your head, “i love you. thank you for this.”

he always runs to get you whatever you need too. cravings at 3am? he’s got it don’t worry

you’re not staying home alone either, you’re coming with him.

boo is so protective too btw

he’s got a copy of your birth plan, a bag of clothes for you and him (plus all your travel size shower stuff), and a baby bag in his car at all times plus the one originally prepped in case you have time to grab that. but emergency one is ready also

he’s your biggest advocate at the hospital

he’s not letting anyone do anything you don’t want

doctors look at him for his opinion? no sir you ask my wife, or let me consult our paper (he though he has it memorized front to back)

he’s holding your hand the entire time, he’s cheering you on, he’s being the best support he can be right now.

when all is said and done, and his little girl is here. he’s so emo.

you get skin time first, she’s laying on your chest and he’s leaning against your bed. head resting on yours, “you did it mama, she’s here.” and his eyes are just sparkling man, he’s so mf happy

when it’s his turn for skin to skin, he’s ready. hair is put up, shirts off and he’s comfy in the chair. telling her all about how her mama is the best mama ever, and he’s gonna do anything to keep her safe and she has loads of uncles who are so excited to meet her, even tho one is more excited than the rest

the first guest is Noah, he was sitting in the waiting room the second Matt said it was happening tbh

and that’s when Matt gives him a little gift bag that has a shirt that says “godfather” and then Noah’s crying and you’re crying again and he’s blabbering about how he swears nothings gonna happen to her on his watch and he can’t wait to spoil her so rotten

when everyone leaves and it’s time to shower. he has no shame asking the nurses to take his baby to the nursery for a little while.

he’s helping you the whole time, he’s gonna wash your hair and your body and he’s gonna be so gentle and he’s so soft the whole time.

“can’t believe we’re really parents now, honey.”

“she’s the sweetest thing to ever happen to me, outside of you of course.”

“thank you so much, honey. i love you and i love her so much and i promise to always be here.”

when you finally leave the hospital you are not carrying a thing

“honey, you carried her 9 months and went thru 23 hours of labor. the least i can do is carry her to the car.”

you guys settle into this life so easy tbh

he’s big on baby wearing

especially when he’s working, it gives him time with his girl and his other girl time to relax

when tours are happening or a show is happening, he’s baby wearing and he’s putting those big ole headphones on her so he can work and take care of her

and yeah she can’t hear a thing but he’s gonna tell her about how she’s gonna be just like daddy, so he’s gonna teach her young

and when she gets a little older, he’s gonna make her own little garden in the yard. get her those cute little gardening tools, and take her to home depot to pick out seeds and he’ll teach her how to garden while her pretty mama is sitting on the deck watching all lovingly

and suddenly it’s her first year of school

and daddy daughter dances are here!!

he’s gonna go all out for her, big dress, dinner before, a photo shoot with auntie Lana

and she had the time of her life.

he walks in, in his button up carrying her against his chest

“she fell asleep in the car, let me go put her in bed and i’ll be right back honey.”

and he’s so happy, life couldn’t get any better in his eyes.

until he sits down, and you hand him a little old piece of plastic that just says “Yes +”

and now he’s crying, because he’s gonna have ANOTHER baby?!

[lefaystrent]

One random day, Patton declares he is going on vacation. He will be leaving the mindscape for awhile, and it's up to the rest of the gang to hold down the fort while he's gone.

"You're Thomas's sense of Morality; you can't just go on vacation," Logan points out.

Patton's grin goes a little too wide, his eyes a little too intense. "Watch me."

Remus bobs his head up and down to check him out. "Since when do you do the ominous thing? I thought that was my thing. Are we playing around with each other's thingies?"

"No–thing wrong with switching things up now and then," Patton says cheerfully.

Virgil squints. "Are you Deceit in disguise?"

"I am sitting right next to you, Virgil," Janus points out. "Also, I wouldn't be caught dead in a floral print."

"Are you going to Hawaii? Without me?!" Roman demands, eyeing Patton's– well, Hawaiian shirt he's donned on rather than his usual polo.

"Now, now Roman, this is nothing personal kiddo. I'm just taking some much needed me-time. So I'll need to take this journey alone."

"Oh thank God," Janus mutters while Logan blinks rapidly, flabbergasted. Logan spits out, "We are all personified pieces of one man's personality. By the nature of our existence, you can't be alone."

"That's quitter talk," Remus butts in. He literally turns and shows them his butt for some reason, though thankfully with pants still on. "Want me to yeet you out the door, Daddy-o? See how far you can go? Or maybe load you into a ballista and send you hurtling to a beautiful bludgeoning death?"

"No thanks, bud," Patton says far too good-naturedly. "Our dear lord in Heaven gave me two perfectly good legs to walk with. I think I'll be fine."

"You're serious? Just– what, gonna walk out the door?" Virgil questions sharply. Skeptical he may be, he seems somewhat interested in seeing how far Patton will take this bit.

"Absolutely! There's a whole big wide world out there! So much to do! So much to see!"

"So what's wrong with taking the back steets," both Remus and Roman sing at the same time.

"You guys will be fine for a while without me. But just in case you miss me, I have provided each of you with your very own Patton Pal."

They each look down into their hands where a small, stuffed version of Patton materializes. It has stitched in glasses, a removable Cardigan, and its mouth is in the shape of a heart.

"What," they all respond collectively.

"If you feel lonely or need a hug, you just give your Patton Pal there a good ole squeeze! That should tide you over until I get back. Anyways, I'm gonna skeddadle now. Bye! Love you!"

And Patton walks out the front door.

Dad has left the building.

Roman ponders with pursed lips, "Sooo, did we just get abandoned?"

"Nah, I'm sure he's just gone out to pick up some milk."

"Thank you, Remus."

Virgil rises up from the couch and strides over to the door in a huff. "Alright Pat, you can come out now."

The door swings open. A brick wall is revealed where there once was not one.

"Uhhh, guys?" Virgil asks the group, stepping back. Unconsciously, he grips his Patton Pal a little tighter.

"What in the Chris Angel Mindfreak?" Remus questions and taps at the brick. His nail makes a scraping sound along the mortar. Curious, he examines his finger and licks it.

"Did he trap us in the Mindscape?" Roman asks, squeezing in between his brother to test the solidity of the wall. It is indeed a wall.

"Is this his villain origin story?"

Janus rolls his eyes at the twins. "Patton's just serious for a change, that's all. He doesn't want to be followed, and obviously he must be out hanging with Thomas. Really now, have some sense."

"You do know who you're talking to, right?" Virgil asks him waving at the twins, to which Janus gives a saucy, "Touche."

Logan sighs and begins ascending the stairs.

"What, you're just gonna leave too?" Virgil calls after him.

"I have work to do, as I'm sure the rest of you do. Patton will return once he tires of this stunt."

Logan is gone and now it's just the four of them.

"Someone's salty about being abandoned," Roman comments too loudly.

"FALSEHOOD!"

"Alllll byyyyy myseeeelffff," Remus sings off-key.

Virgil debates whether to follow Logan up or try a window next. He stares down into the beady, button eyes of his Patton Pal doll.

"Need a hug?" Janus asks him teasingly, watching him.

Virgil scoffs and shoves the plush into his hoodie pocket. It's bulky, but it fits.

Will it stay there?

Will Patton ever return?

Will the sides use this time to overcome their differences and bond as a true family?

Find out next time on "Episodes From The Mindscape"!

The screen flicks off.

[geminialchemist]

I made this originally as a comment on a post on Reddit, but it seemed well liked, so I thought I’d expand on it a little and make it a post here on Tumblr.

Spoilers for Shadow of the Erdtree abound, don’t read any farther if you don’t want the ending spoiled.

I really loved a lot of the lore about Miquella up until the big reveal that he Miquellested Mohg, and was bringing back Radahn as his consort. I remember finding the crosses across the land, and then finding the one in the fissure, and seeing that he abandoned his love there, and man, that was so good, so chilling to see that Miquella, known for his compassion and kindness, had thrown that away. We were going from cross to cross, learning just how much he was willing to mutilate and change himself for godhood… only for him to cling to a childhood crush he had on his older brother. That’s lame. Like, really lame. And gross!

And Mohg. I know we joke about how he beat the allegations, but remember that he needed to wed an Empyrean for his plans to work out with the Formless Mother. These plans he already had in place before Miquella charmed him, since Sir Ansbach was already a Pureblood Knight working under Mohg before Mohg was charmed, meaning Mohg had already established the foundations of his dynasty. That means Mohg was going to go after either Miquella or Malenia, since they were the only Empyreans left, and tell me, which one sounds like the easier target, the small child, or the undefeated champion? Miquella was always going to be taken by Mohg, the retcon just exists to make Miquella look more morally questionable while stripping Mohg of a bit of his agency and villainous identity. The entire Mohg portion feels like a rewrite when the entire reason he was charmed by Miquella is because he had some unspecified way into the Shadow Lands, and it’s never really talked about ever again. Mohg’s entire purpose in this plan comes off as an afterthought, with no specifications as to why he was needed, other than a vague “he was needed.” Even the use of his body to resurrect Radahn is unexplained as far as I know, though I headcanon that it’s due to Radahn’s body being too rotted after the centuries of Scarlet Rot infecting it, and they needed a demigod’s body, so Mohg was the only one to use available, but it would have been nice if that had been explained.

Godwyn would have been better as a final boss, and it didn’t even need to be actually Godwyn to work, since I know some people don’t think that would work from a lore perspective since his souls is gone, and his full return would wreck the Duskborn ending. Of course, “gone” is weird way to put it, since his soul isn’t destroyed, it’s in whatever afterlife exists in Elden Ring and just not being reincarnated like everyone else who dies after the rune of Death was removed, so Miquella could maybe work a way to get him back. The DLC is in the Shadow Lands, where all things that die pass through, after all. Get rid of Mohg being brainwashed, but keep his body being used so that Sir Ansbach, one of the best NPCs, still has a quest to follow in putting Mohg’s body to a proper rest. It also makes sense, Godwyn’s body is really messed up, bloated, and multiplying all over the Lands Between like a cancer, and can’t be used for ressurection.

Still, I think a failed Godwyn would be better. Maybe we skip the whole Promised Consort part, and just have it be the first act of Godhood Miquella does, because ew, am I tired of the incest surrounding Miqella’s character. Godwyn The Golden starts the fight off back in his prime, doing loads of attacks infused with Holy damage, coming off as the perfect and powerful Demi-god he’s always stated as being in the lore. Then he starts falling apart at phase 2, his phase 1 attacks being switched to being ghostflame infused rather than holy, Miquella now on his back and any new attacks added to phase 2 take on the holy affinity due to his presence. Then phase 3 hits, no holy infinity at all, all attacks do ghostflame or deathblight buildup. Deathblight is already so underused, so it would be great here. Godwyn is falling apart faster the more we fight, and Miquella, holding on, is getting hurt by the ghostflame and deathblight while desperately trying to keep his beloved brother together.

Have the fight set during an eclipse, too, sorta like the final boss of Dark Souls 3, the Soul of Cinder. Really tie it into the lore of Miquella trying to bring Godwyn back, like we find out at Castle Sol, where he had hoped to use an eclispe. I’d even say to make the light from behind the eclipse change color as the fight rages on, starting off bright and holy, and change it to the horrid dark grey and sickly yellow that deathblight has by the third phase, so rather than the arena getting brighter than a flash bang like it is in canon, have it get darker and gloomier. And of course, after the fight, the eclipse has faded entirely.

Instead of a cutscene that is nothing but information we already know(Seriously, what was even the point of the cutscene we got? It gave us not a single piece of new information), Miquella is lying on the floor, mostly dead, much like Morgott after we beat him in Leyndell. He isn’t dying because of us(honestly, I don’t even know why he died in the DLC, he’s so high up on Radahn’s back we never really get a chance to hit him directly, but he dies when Radahn does for whatever reason), instead he’s dying from clinging so tightly to Godwyn and trying to hold him together, burned by ghostflame and deathblight. He laments that even as a god, he wasn’t able to fix anything. Not his sister, not his brother, not the Haligtree, none of his plans ever work. No matter the sacrifices, personal or otherwise. He’s a failure in every way, and the knowledge breaks him as he sobs and dies.

However, if you visited every cross before the boss fight, you can absorb the essence of Miquella’s discarded body, and if you beat him then, you’ll get the option to return his discarded flesh and emotions after the fight. Doing so heals him, and gives him back everything he discarded, like his love, his fears and doubts. He fades away into light particles, and if you sit at the grace in the arena, he’ll appear like Melina does, sitting across from you and with a healed character model. This gets a few bits more dialogue, some exposition, yadda yadda. He’s a god without a consort, you’re a lord without a throne. He’s unsure, and not confident it will work, but maybe if you work together, something good can come of this tragedy? Giving up now would just be spiting in the faces of everyone he’s hurt. You’re strong enough to stop him if he loses his way again. (I think the reason he chose Radahn in canon was because of his strength and kindness? He trusted Radahn to do what was right after he threw away his love and compassion, entrusting Radahn to lead him down the right path when he lacked those things, and to be strong enough to resist his charm. That’s again entirely headcanon due to our lack of knowledge about their vow, but I’m adding it here because this is MY fanfiction and I can do whatever I like!)

(This part is more of a personal bit I’d have liked added because I find it amusing, rather than because I think it would make it better. Remember when you go through all that trouble to find Fia, and she asks if you’ve come all this way to kill her, and you can just say “No, I want to be held,” and it’s the funniest chunk of text you get in game? I really wanted something like that with Miquella. He wants to know why you came all this way, entered the Shadow Lands, a sealed off region of the world where only death awaits, where you fought against insurmountable odds, all to get to Miquella, presumably to stop him, only to heal him at the last moment, in which you can straight up tell him to his face you want to be his consort, and he’s just as confused and amused as Fia was. He knows you aren’t under his charm, but still he questions if it’s possible you are if you went this far just for that.)

This unlocks a new ending for the base game, the Age of Compassion. You summon Miquella like you would Ranni after beating Elden Beast, and together you usher in a kinder world, this time without the brainwashing. Or maybe with the brainwashing. Or perhaps it’s vague about the brainwashing, and if this is a good or bad ending in classic Fromsoft fashion. I’d prefer no brainwashing, and Miquella still unsure if things will work out, with it ending ambiguous if the Age of Compassion lasts, or fumbles and falls to a world blind to it. All you and Miquella can do is hope it will be better.

That might be a lot to ask, but look, it’s the only way I’ll ever get to live out my fantasy of being fought over by a cold, goth witch gf and a soft femboy twink with hair longer than I am tall, okay?

[your-local-crypt1d]

@madsy-prongs OKAY !!!

For a small bit of background context, I had this idea that Tommy is Mumzas' child because it's poetic in a way. A boy who loves the living so much being a child of death. Anyway

Kristin tampers with Tommys' respawn point so when he gets revived, he ends up in the Grimlands.

She was intending to send him to Pixandria, the copper king being another one of her "children" (like Tommy, aka a death prophet), but the magic was disrupted.

fWhip finds Tommy wandering around his forge in awe of all the machinery and inventions. It's not exactly unusual to see another person in the forge, like members of the engineering guild, their apprentices, messengers looking for him, etc, but a pale teenager in raggedy clothes? That's a bit weird. Not the weirdest thing that's happened to fWhip but weird.

Tommys' head wounds from being beaten to death are still there, still bleeding, Tommy just genuinely didn't notice the pain while so heavily focused on the other sensations that come with being alive again.

Fwhip notices, though, and Tommys' broken prosthetic arm. One panicked conversation and a whole load of mistrust later, Tommy is in the infirmary wing of the Eastvale manor.

fWhip promises that he's just doing his due diligence making sure Tommy doesn't bleed to death in his forge then he can go back to living under floorboards and eating trash. He manages to get a laugh out of Tommy for that one.

That "little stay" ends up extending when he turns out there are a lot more wounds on him than just a forehead cut and a few bruises, turns out getting beaten to death multiple times kind of hurts! Who knew (:

Then it gets longer when fWhip starts working on a replacement arm for Tommy, nothing he hasn't done before. I headcanon the Grimlands exporting prosthetic limbs and other mobility aids for all kinds of species, with their technical geniuses inventing ones even for merfolk or winged people.

Then that stay becomes indefinite when Tommy let's slip that he's in danger, that someone is wanting to murder him "again", and not just regularly kill him, permanently kill him.

fWhip had honestly just assumed the white streak in Tommys' hair was premature greying or an accident with ice magic, Gem had some white streaks in hers after Scott used his ice magic on her. He didn't think it was because Tommy was genuinely brought back from the dead.

After that, fWhip promises that so long as Tommy is in the Grimlands, he is under fWhips' protection and that no more harm will come to him. He's not going to allow some child-abusive maniac to hurt Tommy again, not when fWhip, regrettably, has gotten quite attached to the loud, foul-mouthed teenager.

fWhip schedules an audience with Pixl after that, to discuss "personal matters" he explains in the letter and how it's of utmost urgency. He knows Gem would have books on revival and rejuvenation magic, but he's not looking into the practical side of it, he's looking into the after-effects and spiritual side of it all.

Besides, Tommy said he sometimes sees visions about how someone will die before it happens, and who better to ask about that sort of thing then a very famous prophet of Lady Death, the Copper King himself?

Eventually, fWhip takes on Tommy as an apprentice in the forge. That really solidfys Tommys' stay in the Grimlands being a more permanent thing than originally planned, it's not like he has anywhere else to go after all. He has no family, everyone thinks he's dead, Dream wants him dead.

fWhip is also very purposefully NOT telling his siblings, and subsequently the rest of the Wither Rose Alliance, about his new kid. He's really too busy dealing with everything going on at the moment for that can of worms.

Thats sort of the gist of what I have so far! I will hopefully finish up the art I have to post and maybe even some writing of it soon

[genericpuff]

Big steps are scary, but not moving forward is scarier u.u

So I've been sitting on this post for a little while now, I had planned to post it a few days ago but then I crashed for a nap and woke up to the news of LO ending so wound up using that as another excuse LOL

The last few months have been, to put it lightly, brutal. It's not that anything has happened, it's more like nothing is happening - the usual slow season in tattooing has been especially long, with especially less clients coming through the door, so while it's given me loads of free time to prepare for my conventions and work on other projects, it also means I'm not making as much as I'd usually make. And what I usually make is typically what supports everything I do here.

This has basically been me for the last half a year:

(riding it out, just riiiding it out, whoof)

I'm very fortunate to have a job that satisfies my dream of making a living off art, controlling my own schedule, and making money doing it to boot - but the caveat to it all is that it's a luxury service that relies on the economy around me doing well, and the economy around me right now is very much NOT doing well. I'm also very fortunate that my savings are capable of supporting me, but that's all they are, savings - if I'm not making anything, they'll burn up eventually. I'm not sure how physically capable I would be of going back into retail / food service, and it's honestly just not something I want to do after coming this far as a tattoo artist.

I've also learned how valuable and necessary collaboration is during projects like these. Not just to supplement the quality of the work itself, but to supplement the working experience as a whole. Working with an assistant has been an eye-opening experience in that regard.

When I set out to make this account, it was for the purpose of LO shitposting, edits, essays, and nothing much more than that. I wanted to keep it separate for the sake of my mental health and for the sake of my separate audiences, because when I started here, it just... wasn't a popular opinion in the slightest to have opinions about LO and comics like it outside of the positive norm. I had a lot of fear for a long time built up in my head over it, but as time has gone on, I've fortunately had mostly positive experiences and even when they aren't positive... I've proven to myself that I'm capable of moving forward through it all with my head held high and that these scary experiences aren't as scary as they tend to seem in my head. That's really just the funny thing about fear over any sort of 'risky' endeavor.

That said, I've also branched out a lot more from this blog's original purpose. I've talked about the process of making webcomics, Webtoons as a platform, offered alternatives to creators seeking refuge from the more corporate platforms, given out writing and art advice, discussed topics concerning Greek myth, shared my own original works, and basically just naturally progressed into talking about and doing other things because LO will end eventually and I don't want to restrict myself to talking about the same comic forever LOL

This is a crossroads that I've been at for a few months now. And I know nothing will change unless I take a step forward. It might wind up not being in the right direction in the end, but it's forward, and that's all that really matters to me, because staying in the same place forever isn't good for anyone.

So, I guess I'm gonna stop yapping and just show y'all what I've been working on! I brought this up in a Twitch stream the other day and people in the chat were all very supportive and optimistic, so I'm hoping those of you who follow me here will be too ╭( ･ㅂ･)و (and if not, well, you can kick my ass in my inbox later LOL)

I've applied for my genericpuff account on Twitch to become an Affiliate channel and am just waiting on the approval process. Assuming everything goes through well enough, y'all will be able to subscribe to my channel or support it with bits. If I do get approved I'll be doing a rehaul of the channel design and offering some fun lil' goodies for the chat, and I'll be trying to stream at least twice a week.

So please go follow my Twitch account if you haven't yet! It's the best way to get early sneak peeks of Rekindled, as I'm usually working on new episodes, but we're usually also chatting about LO, webtoons related stuff, and other fun topics ٩(｡•ω•｡)و

But now for the biggest new addition - I've started a Patreon account specifically for my genericpuff stuff ! Normally I would redirect anyone who asked to my main Patreon, but it's not as active nowadays simply due to my original projects being on hiatus. And it's not exactly the best space to share any bonus goodies related to my genericpuff account.

That said, I want to make it clear that I will still be putting limitations on what I offer on this page. Anything related to early access sneak peeks will still be free for all. This will be a glorified tip jar first and foremost, most of what I will be offering as bonus goodies and incentives will be stuff like time lapses of pages, art tutorials, original character designs, critique requests, early access adoptables, deleted scenes, etc.

Basically it'll be stuff that I'm already making (or want to make) but will be exclusive to patrons that won't be tied exclusively to the reading experience of Rekindled. The comic will always be free to read, not just because of the legal stipulations of it being a fan project, but because I want it to be.

Alternatively, if you want to access the stuff I have planned for my original work that I will be posting as early access to my Patreon once it rolls out, you can support that Patreon here!

From the bottom of my heart, thank you all so much for supporting what I do here, in all of its niche craziness. Building this little community over the past year has been life-changing, and I don't say that lightly. I've worked very hard to maintain what I'm doing here, and I'm going to continue doing so - it's a privilege to write and draw for you all week after week, and I appreciate any and all support you can give so I can keep managing what I do.

And if you can't, that's okay! The best way you can support my work is to read it, share it, and engage with it! Remember that reblogs will always be more beneficial than likes, and please don't ever be afraid to pop in to our streams or into our Discord to say hello! It would be a joy to have you ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～ ♡

Thank you all so much. This has been a big barrier to overcome on a mental level, my anxiety is through the ROOF right now, but I'm so grateful and glad I have such a wonderful circle of readers, community members, and friends who have offered their reassurance through this slow season and process of seeking support. Whether or not this is a step in the right direction, it's at least forward <3 And whatever comes of it, we'll see. But I'll be riding it out all the same ~

[smileposting]

changes i noticed in the new GGG demo

compiled based on snapcube's vod and my own experimentation. this focuses more on changes in gameplay/overarching story than new character interactions facilitated by new dialogue, so keep that in mind. full list under the cut!

click clack is now the god of storytelling as opposed to the god of teamwork, at least according to bibo.

razzma v. tazz is either razzma's full name or her pen name (based on the fact that he is also addressed as razzmatazz.)

bizzyboy in da ferris wheel....? not sure if this is new actually

rodney (the dog) is here.

skolopendra is now in the very first section of the grove you encounter as opposed to being on the south island.

bug's got new dialogue if you choose to just keep standing there after he gives you his questline. you're creepin' him out!

very ominous black rabbits found near king cutouts. you can interact with each of them exactly once. said interaction is just the camera zooming in and playing a vine boom adjacent sound.

you can interact with the cardboard cutout of mitternacht and knock it down, but you can't interact with the one of inspekta at all.... hm...

new usable dialogue from P: P here!

new usable dialogue from jacqueline: get ready for pets, cutie pie!

new usable dialogue from skolopendra: tiny weak little bug.

new usable dialogue from rodney: BARKBARKBARKBARK

al had his shaboingboings before the cutscene introducing all the bizzyboys plays, but in the actual cutscene he's still trying gobble down that beachball. either this is a glitch or the implication is that al had two whole plates of shaboingboings and was still hungry afterwards so he ate the ball, and will then proceed to have another two plates of shaboingboings.

capochin calls inspekta "spek"... cute....

new usable dialogue from capochin: GET TO WORK, YOU LAZY PUP!

inspekta's van is also explicitly referred to as a campaign van. interestin'...

inspekta himself is a Lot more noticeably passive aggressive in this version lmao

oh shit they changed the handwriting in king's letter to miss mitternacht.

THEY CHANGED THE LETTER TOO.

whoever wrote this letter has generational trauma swag there i said it. "back where i'm from people WORK for their praise they don't just have godhood HANDED to them" okaaaayyy next you're gonna say you're one of the good ones and embarrass tf out of your kids in the process

i think peeps has a talking sprite now? i think everyone got new sprites for specific actions/responses/emotions actually, gods included.

miss mitternacht being of human origin is called into question; according to sirena, some believe mitternacht was never even alive to begin with.

al does not have his second plate of shaboingboings because he frew up :( but hey at least P joins him on his snack break :)

the beach ball is now a usable item that you can return!

new particle effect on mitternacht's model to make it clear that she is Constantly Crying.

more spanglish in razzma's dialogue. lots of emphasis is placed on her near-photographic memory when it comes to king, and he uses it a lot to calm herself down when he gets too emotional.

oh hey rodney's on this island too.

2nd ominous bunny appears

new eating sfx in the rift psa

the P puppet is going to town on that sandwich (not sure if this is new either)

skolopendra talks about how razzma took king's apparent betrayal especially hard.

new usable dialogue from miss mitternacht: I MISS MY ELOQUENT KING!

jacqueline is PICKING BUG UP BY THE HEAD!!!

new usable dialogue from jacqueline: I AM GOING TO EAT YOU.

"and the next thing you know, you're loading a boat with two of every animal. you don't want that, do you?" MISS MITTERNACHT....?

funny inspekta animatronic; you can free up inventory by feeding dialogue to it.

EDIT 10/15/2024: new usable dialogue from marsha: DON'T WORRY, MISSY! INSPEKTA WILL SAVE THE DAY!

feel free to add other observations in the replies/reblogs if you find em! >;P

[ceilidhtransing]

This isn't the kind of stuff I usually post about, and I have zero interest in Drama, but I want to talk about a tangential element that the whole James Somerton Debacle has rather highlighted. I saw someone say something along the lines of “who would expect a business grad to have the skill of reading from a variety of sources and synthesising their ideas into good original media analysis content” and like... yeah.

It's such a common refrain to shit on arts and humanities degrees by going “what's that actually teaching you? What skills do you even get from that? It's all useless, it's not relevant to anything, you come out of that sort of degree with nothing but pointless facts on obscure literature or some pish like that”. But no, the distinct skill of learning from a variety of sources and developing the information and perspectives into new unique work of your own is the bread and butter of such degrees, and it is not a skill everyone has.

I feel like those of us who have been trained to do this (or who have developed the skill through their own independent learning outside of an academic institution) have a tendency to devalue it, to forget that it's an actual skill, to assume everyone just does this on the reg. And the idea of simply copying and pasting excerpts from other people's work, without credit, into your work and calling it a day wouldn't even cross our minds as a thing to do, because it's so obvious that the end result would be absolutely terrible, full of points that don't connect, ideas that don't go anywhere, sections that seem to lightly contradict, writing styles that don't cohere. I'm still stunned that anyone would have the audacity to do that, not just on an ethical level, but also on a quality level - is it not obvious that what you would produce by that method won't be very good?

I don't know this person, and I don't want to speculate too much - I don't know whether he genuinely lacks this skill, or if he has the skill and is too lazy to utilise it (though given the standard of his videos, I would hazard a guess at the first, because surely if this was a thing you were good at, your every instinct would be screaming at you to spend a short amount of time just tidying everything up, making it cohere, linking ideas together, doing something to make it better than a load of quotes haphazardly chucked together). What I do know is that this whole incident shows up perhaps better than anything before the very skill that a humanities background gives you, precisely by demonstrating what humanities-style content done without that skill looks like.

Hbomberguy does make the point in his video that creatives often don't value their skills because to them, they're just second-nature; they don't register as skills anymore. And a very similar thing goes on with people with humanities backgrounds. Artistic, creative, literary, intellectual skills get devalued by society all the time. But this stuff is valuable, something that evidently not everyone has or bothers with, and ideally I'd like to see a whole lot less of “but what does a degree like that even teach you”.

[captainpricelover]

You're a cunt

Philip Graves x f!reader

Wordcount- 1.1k

Warnings: Smut!! Oral f! receiving, P in V sex, slightly rough sex, Philip fucks you against a wall. 

Names used: Baby, sweetheart

You and Graves had been hooking up on the down low, so you were more shocked than anyone when he decides to betray you. You stick with your task force, you escape with Soap and Ghost into the nearby city. When your split up from the duo you hide away in a house trying to fix your broken radio, your life is only made worse when Philip decides to enter that very same house.

You stumble up the stairs to the bedroom of the random townhouse where you made your temporary shelter. Outside, the sounds of the shadow company’s radio crackling remind you of your own, you look down at your tactical vest only to find your radio split into multiple pieces, thank god it's still fixable all you need is some duct tape. Instantly, you open all the drawers and check under the bed for some. You get to the nightstands, one had some pills and reading glasses while the other has some handcuffs, you originally were a bit disgusted until you notice a roll of duct tape underneath them. Thank god for kinky people. The pieces of the radio slowly come together like a puzzle you was so close to taping it all up when you hear footsteps. Shit. You panic and immediately rush under the bed. The footsteps get louder and you begin to control your breathing. The door opens, then shuts. Only one step of footsteps can be heard.

“Come on out, baby.” You can recognise that Southern accent anywhere.

He drops himself to the floor right in front of you. Those blue eyes staring into your soul.

“You’re a cunt.” You say

“Aww I missed you too, sugar,” He smirks “Now are you going to come out or am I going to have to drag you?” 

You slowly shimmy your way out so that you now standing on the opposite side of the bed.

“I wished you picked the second option, you know I like to watch you struggle,”

“So are we just going to ignore the elephant in the room,”

“I don’t see an eleph-”

“WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!” You scream

“Don’t do that, you’re going to draw so much attention over here,”

“Philip you ordered your men to shoot me,” You say in a much quieter voice.

“I did my job.”

“Last night you told me that you loved me!”

You could cut the tension with a knife. Silent surrounds you both. Tears fill your eyes, slightly blurring your vision.

“Look, I am sorry, I have my orders. I need to follow them.”

“You could have told me,”

“So you could go and tell your friends.” 

You walk around the bed to face him. His eyes fixate on you as you walk. They dart up and down your body taking in every last detail. All the words you want to say get caught on the tip of the tongue. You loved Philip, truly. He was kind and he cared for you, also the fact he was the CEO of a shadow company meant he was loaded and not to mention the mind-blowing sex. But the moment when he took over Alejandro’s base shattered your heart into a thousand pieces, you were hoping that after this whole missile crisis was over you would get into an actual relationship. You’re brought out of your thoughts by Philips's lips crashing into yours. His hands grab your hips and he crashes them against the wall. Your tounges fight for dominance but you quickly allow him to take over. He pressed his groin against you. The tent in his trousers is large. He breaks the kiss

“Let me try and make it up to you,”

His hands make quick work of your utility belt as it drops to the floor not a second later. Your zipper is undone and before you can realise your panties and trousers are around your ankles and Philips’s face is shoved against your pussy furiously sucking on your clit. Your fingers find their way to the crown of his head as you grip his brown locks. Two of his fingers tease your entrance as his tongue glides between your folds. He’s good. He eats you out like a starved man.  When his index and middle finger finally enter you they instantly begin to attack your G-spot. Philip’s fingers pump in and out of you quickly making you become undone. Suddenly, he stops. You let out a whine.

“Don’t worry baby,”

 He attempts to comfort you and he undoes his zipper and pulls his cock out of his boxers. Philips stand up, he practically towers over you, and his hands find their way to the back of your thighs where his fingers grip the flesh. He picks you up and you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist. Your back smashes against the wall as he aligns his cock with your entrance.

“You going to kill me or arrest me after this?” You ask

“Depends on how good you are for me,”

He smirks before slamming the entire length of his manhood into you, hitting your cervix. A moan almost escapes your lips but is stopped by his hand covering your mouth.

“Gotta be quiet sweetheart,”

He states before thrusting in and out of you. The sounds of his balls slapping against you and your muffled moans fill the room. Your arms wrap around his neck, clinging on to him for dear life as he slams his cock in and out of your pussy. 

“I’m gonna c-cum, Graves!” You mumble under his hand

“Cum for me,” He practically growls. You cum immediately after he says that. Your grip becomes loose while his hold on you becomes stronger. His thrusts become rougher and more frantic. Philip places small kisses on your cheek before you feel hot strings of cum pouring out inside you. He pulls out slowly before sitting you down on the edge of the bed.

“Do you need help with your pants?” He asks with genuine concern.

“I’ve got it,” You go to pull them up but before you can, Philip’s hand presses against your inner thigh with a tissue cleaning up his mess. He shoots you a smile before helping you pull up your pants.

“I didn't need your help,”

Philips's lips open, he's about to say something but he stops as your radio crackles. It's Simon asking for your yours or Ghost’s location. Your duct tape idea actually worked. His expression changes as he remembers his missions and what he needs to do. A sigh escapes his lips as he pinches the bridge of his name. He stares at you for a minute but it felt like an eternity.

“Go, now.”

You are about to say something but you instead put your utility belt back before claiming out the window and into the cold, rainy town to reunite with Ghost and Soap.

[warmaidensrevenge]

It's not a never

Pairing: Eddie x friend!fem plus size reader

A/N: Hi! So I lied. This is gonna be a three part series. I was getting a little carried away with everything I wanted to put in this fic. So that pushed it out to one more part. Tonight's part is basically filler. Just a heads up this is a slow burn. So if you don't like that kind of fic, this one is not for you. Anyways, thanks for reading. As always love ya. Byyyyeeeee

I do not give permission for my work to be posted anywhere else. Please respect all creators. Also, all pictures and songs are from a Google search and found on Spotify. A credit to original posters and artists. Thank you for your work.

Word count: 3,230

Warnings: 18+ no minors please. Language, angst, pinning, slow burn, slight fluff and not proof read.

Summary: A trip to be remembered and a confession that leaves Eddie puzzled.

Part 2

Bags were packed and loaded. Snacks and drinks were bought. A Ziploc bag full with coins for tolls and a map were in Eddie's glove box. And hours of music were picked. All that was left was to wake up at the ass crack of dawn. 

This senior ditch day was going to be epic. Months and months of saving and scrimping was all going to be worth it. 3 days of total and complete freedom. The road trip of a lifetime. One last hurrah. Together. 

Only this was gonna be tough. Being in close quarters with you for 3 whole days. How was he gonna deal?

Lately he was doing pretty good at keeping his feelings at bay… well that wasn't true. You had left for a week after the senior outing to visit the college you got into.

He missed you more than ever. But over those few days, he reflected back on everything. Sure how he now felt about you came unexpectedly. Still, he never wanted to be with anyone more. Especially since he realized you were perfect for each other.

However if he decided to make a move, there was no certainty that you would be up for it. Also, what would it do to the friendship? You guys had been friends way too long. It would be awkward. 

So he chose to push all that he felt away and enjoy this last trip with his friends.

… 

It was 4 am on Friday and everyone was ready to hit the road. You had just hopped in the passenger seat with a huge thermos of coffee. 

“ Sorry. Thy birth giver wanted to pray for safe travels and a safe return.”

Eddie smiled. “ Welp, hopefully one of the pagan gods heard her.”

You turned around and offered up some coffee and donuts to everyone. When you turned back, you pulled out the map.

“ Okay Eddie. Please for the love of all that is holy. Please don't kill us.”

He chuckled. “ Ye have little faith kid.”

You rolled your eyes and took a bite of a donut and pointed forward. “ Let's do this.”

Everyone whooped and hollard. “New York! Here we come!”

-

3 hours later

“Oh crap! Munson please!” Jeff whimpered.

Gareth backed away a little. “ Man oh man. I told you not to have that second cup of coffee.” 

Eddie shook his head while you were laughing your butt off.

“ Calm down.” He said. “ The next gas station in 3 miles out.”

“ I-I don't think I- I can hold it!” Jeff stammered.

“ YOU BETTER!” Grant yelled.

You turned around. “ Guy, guys guys!” It's gonna be fine. Jeffrey. 2 ½ minutes. You can do this. Just squeeze.” 

You looked back at Eddie and just grinned away. All he could think about was how nice your eyes looked. 

As soon as he pulled into the parking lot, Jeff kicked open the back door and ran into the store.

Once Eddie turned off the engine everyone sat there quietly for a few seconds before laughing like crazy.

When it died down you guys got off to move your legs around.

Eddie went to fill up while the other guys went to see about some real breakfast. 

He had just put in the gas nozzle and turned to find you doing toe touches.

He shouldn't have done it, but he did. He checked you out. Loving how your leggings hugged your round bottom. How beautifully wide your hips were.

When you stood back up you walked towards him.

“ Eddie? Can you pop my back?”

He nodded and took a step closer to you. “ Turn around and cross your arms around your chest.”

Once you did as you were instructed, he stepped behind you and wrapped his arms around you. He then took a deep inhale in and caught a whiff of your shampoo. He instantly got goose flesh. 

Stop it! He told himself.

After lifting you up for a second, he quickly put you back down. Your bottom brushed his lower half in the process. 

Fuck!

His hands fell down to your hips. He mentally had to tell himself to not pull you to him.

“ W-was that okay?” He nervously asked.

You turned around and nodded. Bodies only inches apart.

“ So much better. Thank you.”

He stared at your lips as you spoke. Were they always so full? They definitely looked incredibly soft.

“ G-good.” He stuttered as he kept looking at your mouth and thinking.

“Eddie? You okay? Do I have something in my teeth?”

“ Hmm?” He met your gaze. “ Yeah. No. Yeah. You're good. I just ummm…sorry I was just trying to decide if I should take a leak.” 

“ Alright dude." You held up your hand. " Too much info. Go, I'll finish pumping.” 

With that said he practically ran away. Rushing into the first stall that was empty. While sighing deeply he cursed himself. He really wanted to kiss you.

His thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a god awful stench.

“ UGH! Jeff what the hell man?! Ever heard of a courtesy flush?”

“ S-sorry man.”

…

Eddie smiled when he saw the buildings in the distance. He looked at you and your eyes were so big. 

“ Guys look! We're almost there.” You said excitedly. 

Gareth moved between you and him. “ Awwwww yeah baby. Just think, in a couple of weeks we're moving here.”

Eddie caught a sad look on your face. He knew how bad you wanted to go to Columbia. To be close to them while they followed their dreams to be rockstars. But things didn't work out. Instead, you were going to a college on the west coast. 

It was a good school. Everyone knew that. It had a great biology and geology department. Something you were excited about. Still, you were scared because you didn't know anyone there. Everyone you knew and loved would be on the other side of the country.

That's why Eddie understood the sad face. He remembered conversations he had with you about it. He remembered wiping away your tears as you told him about your rejection from Columbia. And though he was the one to talk you into getting some California sun, he now realized he didn't want you to go either.

He tapped your knee and started writing.

‘ okay?’

You peered out the front windshield and slightly shook your head. Then you put your hand on his and squeezed it gently. Letting him know you would be fine. 

He knew you would be. You were awesome and you would make friends easily. It's just now he didn't know if he would be okay without you.

…

You put your finger against your lips.“ Shhhh! Guys I know you're freaking out, but I need you to trust me.”

Everyone was following you down these concrete hallways for a good 5 minutes now. After checking into the hotel and getting food, they had all found themselves sneaking into a building.

Jeff was the first to doubt you. But as soon as a security officer came close to catching you guys, everyone tried to convince you to turn back.

Eddie looked into your eyes and nodded. “ Okay.” He whispered. “ If we go to jail, it better be worth it.”

You held out your hand for him. “ It will be. I promise.”

Your hand was everything he thought it would be. Soft, warm and fit perfectly in his. He swore he would follow you anywhere if it meant that he could hold your hand. 

Once you guys were finally in the spot, you told them to stay put. When you let go of his hand, he now felt like a part of him was missing. 

You were only gone for a second. But in those few moments they had all realized where they snuck into.

Eddie was speechless. There were absolutely no words that could describe how he felt. 

A few spot lights turned on. Pointing directly in the middle of a huge stage.

You returned on top of it. “ So?”

“ Shit!” They all said in unison.

You gave them a huge smile. “ I know right? Obviously you guys can't perform or anything like that. But I wanted the first time you step foot in here, that it's with your biggest support. Cuz I know one day I'm going to be standing right there… screaming my head off.”

They looked at the spot where you pointed. It was right in front of the platform.

You locked eyes with him.“ So get up here and take it in.”

The guys looked at each other then ran to get up too. Once up there you asked for help getting down. You then watched them laugh and wrestle playfully.

“ Alright freaks!” You announced. “ Imagine this.  Every seat is full. And the floor is packed with bodies. All waiting for you.” 

They all stared at you after moving to their respective place. As if they're standing by their instruments.

“ The crowd is chanting. Corroded Coffin. Corroded Coffin….Then the lights go out. The ones that are sitting jump up and everyone screams in anticipation. But then... it goes silent…”

Eddie pictured everything. It was all him and the guys ever wanted.

“ Then they hear you.” You point at Gareth. “ Then you.” You looked at Jeff. “ Then of course you bud.” You nodded towards Grant. “ And finally the strum of a guitar along with oooooohhhhs and awwwws from you.”

Eddie finally had your eyes on him. And he knew right then and there that he was in love with you. It wasn't just a silly crush anymore. It was the real thing. The can't eat, can't sleep, the winning touchdown, the home run, the one in a lifetime love.

He loved you because you loved them. You believed in them. And the way you laid out the scene with so much conviction, it had him convinced that they were gonna make it too.

You smiled at him and continued. “ And while you blow off the roof of this place, the crowd sings and sways with you."

-

Later that night everyone settled into the shared room. Gareth and Jeff in one bed, Eddie and Grant on the sofa bed. And of course being the only female of the group they gave you your own bed.

Eddie has just come out of the shower to find everyone asleep. Except you. You weren't even in the room.

He looked at Grant who took up the whole bed and he sighed. Looked like he was gonna sleep on the floor. 

He waited a minute to see if you would come back but after about 5 minutes, he went to look for you.

You weren't far though. He found you sitting on the steps reading something.

“ Hey kid. Whatcha doin?”

You gave him a quick little smile before looking back at your book. “ Uhhhh nothing really. Just checking out courses.” 

He sat next to you and pulled out his pack of cigarettes. Before he could light one you plucked it from his mouth.

“ No you promised. No smoking on this trip.”

He gave you a thin lip before taking back the smoke and returning it to the carton.

“ You really should quit. I don't want to see you end up with an oxygen tank.”

He put the pack back in his pocket. “ One day. I promise.”

You flipped a page. “ I'll keep you to that.”

You guys sat quiet. Listen to the bustle of the city. Eddie was trying to gather the courage to tell you how he felt. But he was scared. What if he took a leap of faith and it turned ugly? What if you did like him the way he liked you and things didn't work out? Or what if his confession lead to you guys not being friends anymore?

Doubt filled his thoughts. But then a bit of hope shined on him. What if it did work out? What if you guys made it past the long distance thing and were truly happy together? What if this love was meant to be?

“ Eddie?”

His inner rambling came to a halt. “ Y-yeah?”

You closed your book and started fidgeting with the corners. “ You know you're my best friend right?”

He softly cleared his throat. “ Yeah.”

“ And we always tell each other everything.”

He nodded. “ Yeah.”

You sighed a little. “ So you know that I have family out here….well my uncle actually works as a security guard at the garden. He worked tonight…he knew we were coming and he did me a solid…we wouldn't have gotten in trouble if we got caught.”

For a second there his heart sank. He thought you were gonna say that you liked him too. But then he smiled and wrapped his arms around you. 

“ I'm really gonna miss you.” He said softly.

You hug his waist. “ I think I'll miss you more.”

The hug lasted a minute or so, but it was the best damn hug he had ever had. And when you tried pulled away he hugged you tighter. Making you giggle. 

When he finally loosen his grip, you stared deeply into his eyes. The way you sat there, it was like your eyes were trying to tell him something your mouth couldn't. It was almost as if you were asking him to kiss you.

He was gonna go for it. He was gonna take that leap. However the second he leaned in you yawned. Pulling completely away from him so you wouldn't do it in his face.

“ Wow I'm beat. We should get some sleep. Big day in Time's Square tomorrow."

He frowned at the fleeding moment that seemed to be fate. 

“ Yeah you're probably right.” He conceded to it. “ You think you could lend me a pillow and that blanket you brought?”

You looked at him and raised a brow. Silently asking why?

“ Gonna crash on the floor. Grant's a bed hog.”

You laughed lightly and yawned again. “ No. You can sleep with me.”

His breath hitched in his throat while asking a shaky. “ W-what?”

You grinned and stood up, holding out your hand. “ Like when we were kids. If you're worried that I'll get handsy then we can make a pillow barrier.”

He chuckled. “ Maybe I like handsy.”

He regretted it as soon as it came out.

The silence that followed his comment nearly made him shit a brick. You stood there with an almost visible question mark above your head.

Shit! He thought. Shouldn't have said that.

You then shook your head and laughed. “ Stop being weird and take my hand.”

He practically wiped his brow and said whew before grabbing your hand. Allowing you to lead him back.

He laid there for a while thinking about all that happened. He couldn't believe he was gonna kiss you before telling you how he felt. That wasn't the guy he was. He always made sure he got consent. And with you it would be no different. All he had to do was get some real alone time with you so he can finally say something.

When we get home. He said to himself. 

He heard you sigh and felt you move a bit. Then he felt your arm sliding across his stomach. Without thinking he lifted his arm and gently pulled you closer. Slipping his arm under your head. 

Both of you sank further into the bed. He smiled and his last thought before falling asleep was how much he loved you.

…

The next day and a half was the best in his life. Exploring the city, eating the best pizza and getting some information about playing at clubs when they moved there. It was fantastic. 

Now it was time to head home and finish up the school year.

The drive seemed longer this time. More quiet. And he knew why. In exactly 2 weeks things were going to be different. Everyone was going to graduate and their adult lives were going to start. For a long time he couldn't wait to get the hell out of Hawkins. So did his friends. But now that it was happening, it was so hard to see the next chapter. Well with this little monster of love inside him.

When it was time to switch off. Jeff and Grant traded places with you and him.

You guys crawled in the back with the sleeping Gareth and tried to catch some z's. 

You leaned your head on his shoulder and started to hum a familiar tune. He put his hand on your knee and started tapping to the beat. He caught a small smile from you. 

“ Hey Jeff? Could you drop me off first when we get into town?” you asked.

“No problem.”

You went back to humming and Eddie was trying to figure out what exactly he was gonna say. Before he knew it he was sound asleep with you. 

Until he heard the vans break squeak to a stop. 

He opened his eyes and saw they were in front of your house. You had just opened the door and hopped out. 

Though he wanted this to be a private moment, it was now or never.

He sat up and followed you. “ I need a minute man.” He said to Jeff. “ Hold up kid. I'll help you.”

You tried to refuse his help in carrying your duffle bag, but he could see you were too tired to try.

You stoped on at your doorstep and reached for your bag. “ Thanks Eddie.”

He handed you the bag and took a deep breath. Just as you turned to open the door he said your name.

“ Yeah?”

His eyes fell to the ground as he rubbed the back of his neck. “ Uhhhh nevermind. I'll tell you later.”

You cleared your throat gently and took a step towards him. “ I hate when you do that.”

His gaze shot up to yours. “ D-do what?”

You put your free hand on your hip. “ When you look like you have something important to say then just brush it off…Just tell me because I'm gonna be up all night wondering what you wanted to say.”

He looked away and stood quiet for a few seconds. “ I-I’ve been acting different lately.”

“ I know.”

He met your eyes again. “ Yeah?”

You didn't say anything, but he knew that you did.

“ So I-” he cut off. Suddenly his nerves were getting the best of him. “ I don't- ummm shit…I- well the reason…damn it! I cant- I don't know-”

You grabbed his hand and lightly squeezed it. Letting him know that it was okay. To calm down and take a breath.

He took a deep inhale and slowly let it out. “ I think possibly, maybe I’ve fallen for you.”

Your expression after that gave him a sinking feeling. You didn't feel the same.

Your frown said it all.

“ I'm sorry. I-I just needed to say something.”

You nodded but surprisingly you didn't let go of his hand. You were actually staring at his hand in yours.

“Eddie…I want to talk more about this. But I can't even think straight and my knees are about to give in.”

That wasn't what he was hoping for. 

“Right! Umm yeah. Sorry, just forget I said anything.” He said trying to walk away. 

But you held his hand firmly. Preventing him from taking a step further. “ No. Don't do that.”

He looked back at you and you had your eyes closed. 

“ Eddie, this is important. If it wasn't then you wouldn't have said anything at all…This deserves a real conversation that I can't give you right now. So please don't leave thinking that I don't feel the same way."

He was in disbelief. Did he hear that right?

You gave his hand one last squeeze before letting go and going inside.

He stood there staring at the door. Did he dream that? You like him too?

Gareth rolled down the window. “ Munson, let's go. I wanna go home!”

He sighed and smiled to himself. " Y-yeah. Okay."

…

@salenorona23 @browneyes528 @ohmeg @eddiesguitarskills @crookedcrone

[thexsanctuaryx]

ʚ♡ɞ I'll Follow You Into the Dark ʚ♡ɞ

{ CHAPTER THREE }

➳ PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

Summary: Emma's first meeting with the doctor goes about as well as you'd think and Marc gets firsthand experience of what it feels like to be Jake. Pairing: { eventual } Original Character { Emma Harper } x Marc Spector, Emma Harper x Steven Grant, and Emma Harper x Jake Lockley Contents: mental hospitals, psychiatric hold, Emma meets the doctor, angst { I guess? I don't know what else to call it. }, hurt/comfort-esque vibes Warnings: severe mental illness { psychosis, hallucinations, depression }, main character is actively in psychosis, I've done my best to write it in the least triggering way but there are a lot of heavy themes that will take place in this series, so forewarning. Marc is a danger to himself here but it's only really alluded to in this part. mental hospitals. toxic as fuck doctor, typical misunderstanding and misinterpretation that comes with psychosis. due to the nature of Emma's psychosis, things are very unhealthily skewed in a religious context. triggering themes related to the aforementioned. Author's Note: I recently finished reading Tear Down My Reason by @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction and it inspired me to work on an idea I've been playing with about Emma and the Boys meeting while both in a mental hospital at the same time. I wanted to write a series that would help other people with severe mental illness feel seen and heard as there really AREN'T works out there like this, especially not actually written by people with firsthand experience of things like psychosis. This series is being written with a lot of love and care so I truly hope that it can be cathartic for those who read who might also live with mental illness because you DO matter and your stories DO deserve to be told. Word Count: 1,016 Taglist: @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @sub-aro

She’s quiet on the way back to their wing, a soft scowl seemingly forever over her features.

Marc wants to say something, but doesn’t.

He isn’t sure what she’s hearing as they cross through the locked doors but he knows she’s more caught up in her mind than she is present in the goings on around them.

While the rest of them file into the day room to receive their meds, she’s escorted through another door.

Marc feels a spike of anxiety.

He knows she’s going to see the doctor for the first time and having been to this particular hospital more than once, he knows this doctor.

A harsh and cruel man who deals out diagnoses like poker chips and always loads everyone up on too much medication, that their usual psychiatrists then have to sort out after they’re discharged.

He finds himself pacing the hallway like a caged wild animal, tense and binding their time.

Meanwhile, Emma is taken outside to a sort of courtyard and seated at a table in front of a heartless looking man with a massive binder in front of him.

She shifts nervously on the bench across from him taking in her surroundings and reminiscing on how bright it is and how much it makes her think of the garden of Eden.

The man folds his hands on top of the open binder and gives a menacing smile. “Alright Emma, I like to make deals—do you like to make deals? If you take my medication for three days, I’ll let you go home…”

And just like that, the proverbial serpent seems to take her into a chokehold. Her throat tightens and she finds it hard to breath despite being outside in the fresh air.

She forces a swallow, unable to find her voice.

“Sign here if you agree…”

The man – who she’s now sure is the devil himself – turns a contract around and reaches out a pen with the same sickening smile.

Emma feels like she’s signing her soul away but he gives no other option other than to do so. It feels like a trap, another test that she can’t help but fail.

She doesn’t even remember how to sign her whole name in the confusion of her brain, but she scribbles a ‘signature.’

“Wonderful…” The doctor says, “you can go back inside now.”

Emma stiffly gets up from where she sits, walking back toward the door where they wait to let her back in.

When she’s led back into the wing she can see Marc at the end of the hallway near her room. As if by some latent telepathy, he looks up, locking eyes with her.

She feels trapped now more than ever, like she doesn’t know what to do. So her feet carry her toward him, his own moving to meet her in the middle.

As soon as he gets closer he can see her trembling, tears welling up in her eyes.

He doesn’t know what to do because he can’t hug her but he can tell she’s terrified.

“How’d it go?” He asks, winded and unsure.

Emma shakes her head quickly, falling into a sob that rakes through her body as the tears spill over.

‘That bloody doctor,’ Steven curses.

‘I’ll kill him myself…’ Jake adds.

Marc, on the other hand, feels like he’s never wanted to hug somebody so badly in his life—the one time he can’t.

He wishes he could take her somewhere quiet so she could calm down—but going into each other’s rooms are off limits and the day room is crowded this time of day.

“I’m so sorry…” is all he can say, giving her a soft look of empathy.

Emma, on the other hand, not knowing any better—rushes forward to wrap her arms tightly around Marc’s middle, clinging to him.

It startles him, a little surprised she’d be comfortable enough to do it in the first place.

Risking hell from the hospital staff he does what he instinctively wants to, what feels right—and hugs her back. He can’t help but keep an eye out for prying looks and of course, the staff.

Emma sobs softly against him, feeling safe for the first time in the last 24 hours, as she shakes in his arms.

He holds her as long as he can before it becomes too risky, and withdraws. He gives her a soft look fighting every urge to wipe away her tears.

“We—we’re not really…supposed to do things like that here—I don’t wanna get you in trouble.” He explains gently.

Emma nods quickly even if she misconstrues his meaning for being about what’s appropriate in this liminal space.

She wipes furiously at her eyes.

“Why don’t we sit here for a minute?” He suggests, sliding down the wall along the hallway and reaching his hand up for hers, risking reprimand again.

As if sensing a thought Marc hardly has, Jake speaks up in their headspace, ‘Let them yell at you for helping her—I’ll gladly give them a piece of my mind…’

Marc doesn’t need to see his face in a reflective surface to know the malice in his eyes, the threat that’s far from empty.

Emma takes his hand, moving to sit next to him on the floor. She instinctively rests her head against his shoulder, and he feels as though he suddenly knows exactly how Jake must feel when he protects him and Steven.

He releases a heavy sigh and conceals their clasped hands between them if only for the sake of being able to continue holding hers a little longer.

It occurs to him that the next 80 some odd hours would be crucial for her, and he’s not sure it’ll be long enough to make sure she’s okay.

“You thinking what I’m thinking, boys?” He mutters to the other two in his head. Emma doesn’t seem to mind the way he talks to them in the least, only squeezing his hand tighter.

‘Think we’re gonna need to make an appearance…’ Jake suggests darkly.

‘Most. Definitely.’ Steven agrees.

[autisticlancemcclain]

Okay so I haven’t read lance angst in forever and decided to read some and I have just binge read all of the Beauty and the Beast klance au you just made and I absolutely ADORE it!!! It is so amazing and I love it so much!

It did make me curious what the whole ‘rescue’ scene is going to be, is the three people in the family who didn’t want Lance to marry the prince try to save him? Or is it going to go the totally different direction?

Cause I can imagine a scene where the village sees that Lance and Keith are actually going to work out and the family gets worried that Lance is going to try to get revenge on them/the whole village so they try to take Lance away from Keith. Or try to make it so Lance wouldn’t become King when they actually get married!

But anyways yeah I love this story, and how you’ve changed it up a bit so it’s different that the original Beauty and the Beast! Thanks for listening to my rant!

anon i am kissing you for asking. you are the love of my life and the wedding is this spring.

HERE WE GO:

important to remember: lance’s family, although not conventionally, care for him deeply. he struggles to conform to what the town expects and they are scared for him, so they struggle to make space for him in a way that makes him feel loved and included. he can’t keep up with his fathers or brothers on the farm, he gets along with animals better than people (and as such refuses to hunt them, despite his stellar aim), he has no friends because he is an Odd Person, he gets obsessive over small things, he cries all the time, he’s headstrong, he argues with everyone, he’s a klutz, just…so many things. he has skills and they know that but his skills aren’t helpful in the context of the farm. he is, however, helpful in that he can send back money from marrying the prince, and if he’s married to the prince, his family knows he’s safe and cared for in a way they maybe can’t provide for him.

with this in mind it’s obvious that there’s a lot of tension and complication between lance and his family, but lance KNOWS that they love him. take the first chapter with lance and marco, for example. it looks bad and it is bad, and lance is hurt, and marco refuses to help lance do what he desperately wants — go home. but marco isn’t doing it without guilt, and he’s also doing his best to make lance’s transition easier: “You’ve always wanted to live in a castle, right?”. despite the fact that his home life isn’t perfect, lance is in that castle missing his family. he wants his sisters and nieces and nephews and brothers. he wants his mom. they may not understand him but they love him and he knows that, and in that castle with, and i can’t say this enough, NO OTHER PEOPLE, he is going to miss shit like getting hugged, for fucks sake. lance is a touchy person and as close as he and hunk are doing to become hunk is a Literal Block Of Wood, and keith is going to be too closed off to provide any tactile affection for a While.

my plan is that after a few chapters of slowburn and building friendships, lance is going to get all morose and miserable. and keith, who is well beyond whipped at that point, is going to want to help. so one day lance is going to muster the courage to ask to have his family for a visit (“They’ll stay outside! I swear! They’ll have no chance of even seeing you, Keith, please, I missed bothering my brothers so much —”) and keith won’t even come close to denying him.

and because chekhov’s gun is the only thing i’ve got locked and loaded, obviously one of lances family members (probably one of the kids) is going to go wandering inside. and lance is going to try to stop it but it will be Too Late. they’re going to see keith and freak out, and since keith’s freak outs are very scary, it’s going to make the whole situation worse, and they’re going to drag lance back home kicking and screaming and when they come back with with the town and pitchforks.

the gaston of the story is going to be james, i think, and i’m gonna change the story a bit bc i’m gonna spend longer with lance back in town and he’s sullen and furious and desperate to convince everyone that keith is kind and soft and loving, really, and they have him all wrong. which of course does not help his case. but you all know how the rest of the story goes

but yeah!!!! i’m really very excited i love this story too, and changing it was inevitable but it’s been super fun to plan how i’m gonna adapt it!! i’m rly looking forward to writing all the sappy falling in love parts teehee

[protectingtulpas]

hi! if you’ve answered this before i’m sorry, but could you go into what it’s like being both a traumagen system and a system with tulpas? i’ve been curious about this as a traumagen syshost myself. does it affect your innerworld? do the tulpas act vastly different or work differently i guess than the traumagen alters? thank you!

omfg this took us forever to answer for like 200 stupid reasons but YEAH i have a lot I want to talk about with this, where do I even start??? I guess I should clarify that we don't really know what our "original origin" is- we'd been median for as long as the body can remember, and we DK if it was because of our autism or because of social problems or if we were just born that way. Whatever it is though, we were a plural egg when I was created, so pretty much everyone other than the few of us that we discovered from before that considers me the "first" one after the host subsystem. As more shit happened though irl we got more & more traumagenic members, dissociation, memory issues, and whole loads of other shit. So basically, that's the perspective I'm coming from with all this.

So with that outta the way, here're some'a my experiences as a tulpa in a traumagenic/mixed disordered system

One of the biggest signifiers I noticed of our system structure changing completely was our headspace actually, so it's pretty great you mention that tbh. After we got a lotta traumagenic members, something shitty happened I won't talk about, and our headspace basically totally shattered. It used to be little more than our vivid imagination- yeah, I could feel my body and visualize the world around me and stuff but nothing super weird or unusual happened, and I couldn't do stuff in the Wonderland completely outta front. It wasn't like, another Space completely unaware of the host - and I know that's possible with training but we were nowhere neeear that. But after headspace broke, everything was expansive, ever-changing, always with more secrets and hidden things to discover. Lots of fucked up stuff most of us can't access too, but yeah, intense dissociation made it totally different. It's harder to navigate, but I also get more privacy.

As for if I work differently, I'd say yeah, I kinda really do, actually. Obviously, my creation took a lot longer cuz I'm consciously created rather than split or introjected or whatever, so it took a while for me to come into my own, and I was a lot more "fluid" than other headmates for awhile. Regardless of if they're traumagenic or not, something I've noticed about how different I am compared to other member types is that they're, idk, like solidly set in who they are and everything from the beginning. My host, too. They're like a solid, and I'm like a.... non-neutonian fluid or whatever, that ooblek shit. Even after all this time I still feel like I choose my identity and to Exist constantly, y'know? I think it's part of why I've always felt like "tulpa" is part of my species ngl. Everything else is secondary to that. I want to exist, I need to exist. That keeps me going sometimes

As for traumagenic specific stuff though, there're some other interesting things to talk about also. As our dissociative symptoms increased, it got harder and harder for me to move around the fuzz- but honestly, that's the body's fault. I haven't even been personally affected much other than what the body does to us. I can move around headspace more freely than most of us, I can sense more people around than others, and I can control the body way easy now that I've had practice. The only reasons I don't front are when I don't feel like it, somebody else needs it, or the body is too tired and id be bored outta my mind. I guess it's like I have executive access to a bunch of stuff, hahah!

Tbh tho it all just, changed me as a person more than anything else. I'm not the system's main protector because I exist to be one or cuz the body assigned me that role- it's because I took it up on my own choice and decided my own purpose. I protect people and that's part of the core of who I am, cuz of the circumstances I came around in. I wouldn't change that part of me for the world ngl. I know my point boils down to "don't forget your tulpa is a person too" a lot, but... Yeah. they may not have the same struggles as your traumagenic alters, but you're all still Goin Thru It together, so you'll both be affected by whatever happens from there on out as a team.

But hey, aint that what healthy multiplicity is all about?

[my-favourite-zhent]

New Tricks - Chapter 13

Status: Work In Progress

Version: 1.01

Pairing: Rugan x AFAB!OC

Rating: NC-17 (This chapter PG-13)

Genre: Adventure/Romance

Summary: Misadventures of Rugan and the original Zhentarim Gate's crew before and during the year of three sailing ships.

Notes: Big shout out to @fistfuloftarenths for her help! I really struggled with this chapter and was pretty unhappy with the first draft, fistful's suggestions and feedback helped me get it to a version I'm much happier with.

Table of Contents

Read below the cut or on AO3

New Tricks - Chapter Thirteen

Corra’s home was typical of Crimmorian fashion, all stone and abutted directly to its neighbours, perhaps only differing from most houses in that it was only three stories tall instead of the usual four to six. The windows were four handspan wide and nearly as tall as the walls themselves with only a little bit of clearance above and below. On either side of the front doors was an ornately carved dragon, each seeming to gaze directly upon any entrants to the home. The walls of the ground level were covered with the dust of the road but this was no different from any other home in Crimmor.

Bellar grunted as he adjusted his grip on the stretcher’s poles, he glanced backwards to see where the group was heading and whistled. “Now this is a nice place.”

“I mean it’s not exactly a palace.” Sal was also eyeing the structure as they approached, one hand gripping the side of the stretcher. The group was a few yards behind Izzy who had Rugan's pack slung over her shoulder and was oblivious to their conversation.

“Not as big as one no, but this is an expensive city, Crimmor, and it looks to be built of stone not wood. Reckon her friend must be some well-to-do sort.”

“Are you two even lifting?” Olly huffed from behind them, hoisting the tail end of a stretcher.

“Sal certainly isn’t.”

“I’m lifting, he’s just a heavy bastard.”

“Why did you volunteer if you couldn’t manage it?” Olly complained.

“Probably wants to make a good impression on Izzy’s rich friend.”

“Not everyone is as mercenary as you Bellar.” The wizard turned up his nose in indignation.

“That's why I make a better Zhent.” Bellar grinned.

As they approached the entrance they could see a buxom red-head had stepped out and was discussing something with Izzy who gestured in their direction.

“Oh but she's a lovely one too now, isn't she?” Sal said in awe.

“Just as I said, he's only hanging on for appearances. Isn't it just as I said Olly?”

Olly was panting with effort. “Please just lift the damned thing.”

“Rugan, do you know what a lucky bastard you are?” Sal asked his prone friend as they reached the door. Rugan had yet to come round, his hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat and his skin was wan, but his breathing had seemed a deeper timbre than yesterday and that gave Sal some hope.

Izzy looked up from her conversation at their approach. “Gentlemen,” The word dripped with sarcasm. “this is my friend Corra. Corra this is Sal, Olly and bell end.”

“Bellar.” He corrected, his smile was shark like.

“Is that not what I said?” Izzy asked innocently.

“It's a pleasure.” Sal moved from the stretcher to shake Corra’s hand in both of his.

“Right.” Corra smiled, amused by his enthusiasm.

Olly noticed that Sal's absence did not make the stretcher any heavier but he was struggling nonetheless.

“A little help please.” He was on the brink of losing his grip.

Bellar adjusted his own, lowering his end of the stretcher to take on more of the weight. Instantly the load became much more manageable.

“Was I doing all the work this whole time?” Olly asked slack jawed and Bellar only grinned in response.

“You can bring him inside.” Corra said as moved to prop open the doors. 

Sal noticed that Izzy seemed to be doing her best not to look at the stretcher as they moved into the foyer, and he felt a pang of sympathy.

‘Poor girl.’ He thought. Sal couldn’t blame her for wanting to avoid getting emotional in front of the crew.

“Nice place you have here.” Bellar remarked, taking stock of the high ceilings and nicely plastered walls. The ground floor was polished tile and the stairs and second floor were a dark varnished wood.

Corra merely shrugged. “It looked nicer before Isolde made me guard my glint.”

“Your what?”

“Old Crimmorian saying.”

“The room is this way, past the library and up the stairs.” Izzy started down the hall and the boys followed a few steps behind.

Sal paused as they passed the doorway to the library, eyes widening. The room was not particularly expansive but every inch of space was well utilised. The bookcases ran from floor to ceiling, wall to wall, every shelf packed full. The only openings were for the narrow windows casting the dawn's first rays across the floor.

“These are all your books?” Sal asked Corra, thoroughly impressed and perhaps a bit envious.

“No they belong to the ardragons on the wall outside.” Corra shook her head. “Of course they're mine.”

Meanwhile Bellar was glancing over his shoulder to see where they were headed as Izzy led them up the stairs.

“Couldn't have put him on the ground floor?”

“There's no beds down there.” Izzy answered.

“As if he doesn't already spend half his life in a bedroll on the ground.” Bellar grunted as they cleared the landing and started to turn down the corridor.

“Oi, wait.” Olly yelped as the stretcher began to swing towards the rail. “Watch how you’re turning, angle’s too sharp!”

“I'm turning where there's corridor, that's how I'm turning.”

“Well there's no room to turn over here so don't do that.”

“Just back up a bit.”

“You want me to walk backwards down the stairs when you haven't even turned it back yet?” Olly snapped.

“Hey, hey, hey. Let me give you a hand Olly.” Sal was behind him an instant, grasping him by the shoulders and helping him back a step. “And try to watch what you’re doing Bellar or at the very least give us a warning.”

“The warning is: I’m fucking turning.”

Sal sighed but between him and Olly they were able to manipulate the stretcher up to the landing without tipping Rugan out of it.

Izzy wore a concerned expression as they rounded the corner and Sal noted it was directed at Olly. 

‘I suppose none of us have seen him this upset before.’  Sal realised.

They trio were able to get Rugan comfortably into the bed and Izzy set down his pack on one of the bedside tables.

“Sight nicer than the inn.” Sal commented reassuringly. “Sure he’ll be glad for it when he wakes up.”

“I hope so.” Izzy replied, though so softly Sal wondered if she was talking to herself. He turned as he heard Corra approach the door.

“There's some food prepared if you're hungry. I assume Isolde cut in before you could have a proper breakfast.”

“That she did.” Bellar replied indignantly.

“We didn't mind, but we're grateful for your boundless hospitality.” Sal bowed ever so slightly while Bellar shook his head.

“This way then.” Corra headed back down the stairs and Bellar turned to Sal and rolled his eyes.

“Nothing wrong with being nice.” Sal hissed.

“Boundless hospitality?” Bellar replied as they both followed Corra down.

“Are you alright Olly?” Izzy moved to stand next to him at Rugan’s bedside when she was sure the others wouldn’t overhear. 

The boy's eyes were downcast, his hands balled into fists at his sides.

“It’s my fault. It should've been me.”

Tentatively, Izzy placed her hand on his back, unsure whether or not she should prompt him for more details.

After a long moment he continued unbidden. “Gave my damned cloak away and we got caught in the rain.”

She hesitated a moment before asking. “And Rugan gave you his?”

Olly only nodded. 

The boy’s confession was unexpected. How surprisingly kind Rugan was.

Izzy had been pointedly avoiding looking at the man's face up to this point, afraid how she might react. But she looked at him now: his blonde locks splayed over the pillow, the lovely creases on his brow and at the corners of his mouth. That sharp jaw, his aquiline nose.

“Bloody fool.” She breathed softly and she wanted so badly to kiss him in that moment. The tears were threatening to spill again and she bit them down.

“What was I thinking, giving it away? What kind of Zhent is soft like that?” Olly was asking himself more than her. She felt him take a shuddering breath. “Should’ve just told those urchins off.”

Olly’s voice was sharp and his jaw set. Isolde could see a layer of unshed tears on his lashes. Yet even now she doubted he would’ve had the heart to do so. Isolde tried to choose her next words carefully.

“What do you know about crows, Olly?”

“Do you mean the birds? Big black ones? S’ppose to be bad luck aint they?”

“When I was a girl I travelled north with my parents for some job or another. There wasn’t any other children for me to play with so I spent a lot of time on my own in a clearing near the dig site. One day I found a crow with a broken wing. I brought it to my parents and they told me to leave it to die, waste of time and effort looking after a crow. But I was stubborn. I hid the bird in a little tree hollow and shared my lunch with it everyday when my parents were busy at the dig. Eventually it was well enough to fly on its own, but it still returned to that spot at highsun to share a meal with me. Eventually my mother found out, whipped me with a leather strap for wasting all that food, but I didn’t regret it for a moment.”

“That was stupid of you. Not worth the trouble.”

“It was, but I was happy with my decision, even before what came after.”

Olly turned to her expectantly. “What was that?”

“One day while I was playing in the clearing a man with a knife came out of the woods. He tried to grab me, but my friend, my beautiful crow, pecked the bastard’s eye out.”

The boy stared at her for a moment. “You’re making that up.”

“I’m not! Crows are very loyal birds, and vicious when they so choose.”

“What happened to your friend?”

“I don’t know. When I ran to tell my parents what happened they immediately packed up camp and we left then and there.”

“They didn’t try to find the man?”

“No. Something about the way I described the man to my father put a fear in him. I wish I could remember what it was I said, but I only remember his expression and thinking I’d never seen my father afraid before.” Other memories threatened to bubble up to the surface but she pushed them down before they could sidetrack her. “What I’m trying to impress upon you though Olly, is that kindness for its own sake is not always the wrong choice, and sometimes it’s repaid to you.”

Olly turned his gaze back to Rugan, mulling over her words. “I don’t think some street urchins are going to be saving me or Rugan any time soon.”

“Not likely, no. The work you boys do, the way you earn your coin, you’re not often afforded the luxuries of kindness or charity.You have to be more careful about when you choose to indulge.”

“Better not to indulge at all, why take the risk?”

“Maybe so, but don’t you think you should at least repay Rugan his kindness?”

Olly winced and she knew she’d hit her mark. “Of course I’ll repay him.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Where is his cloak now?”

“I wanted to return it, but the others told me to keep it for the road.” Olly’s voice had a bitter quality to it.

“Good. That’s one thing you should be pragmatic about, I can buy him another cloak before he leaves. Come on then, we should join the others.”

+++++

Olly was idly pushing the food around his plate when Sal gave him a little nudge. “Need your strength for the road Olly.” He said gently and Olly complied, albeit without any enthusiasm.

“And when's the last time we had a breakfast that wasn't porridge or stale bread?” Bellar added.

“We thought it might be worthwhile to visit the local wizards guild, see if one of them might be willing to take a look at your friend.” Corra put in.

“Tried that when we arrived last night.” Sal replied through a mouth full of pancakes. “Said there's no proper mage's cure for Winter’s Chill but you could get an herb decoction from an apothecary that can help. Made it out to be riskier than the disease to be honest.”

Sal heard Izzy quietly curse into her mug of kaethae, she hadn't yet touched the hot brown liquid.

“We tried that for my uncle some years back.” Corra replied softly. “It didn't turn out well.”

The conversation settled into an awkward silence at that. The only sounds were the clinking and scraping of metal on ceramic as they ate uncomfortably.

“This is asinine.” Izzy said at last. “There are so many accounts of the Tel'Quessir treating Winter’s Chill with tree bark to excellent results. How could no one know what in the hells it was?”

“You're sure it was Winter’s Chill?” Corra asked.

“They had a different name for it but the symptoms and onset are identical.”

“Maybe the plant was magical? Or has since gone extinct?” Offered Sal and Izzy had to concede the latter point was possible.

“It wouldn't be the first time a beneficial plant was harvested to extinction.” She sighed.

“What's it supposed to look like?” Asked Olly.

“Let me fetch my notebook.” Izzy bounded up the stairs to her room without another thought.

“Sounds like a wild goose chase if you ask me.” Bellar cut in between chewing on his eggs.

Sal looked down and noted Olly had tightened his grip on his fork such that his knuckles had grown pale. He placed a reassuring hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“It's not gonna hurt to try.” Sal replied evenly. Bellar rolled his eyes but backed down.

“Here it is.” Izzy's voice rang down as he descended the stairs. She took her seat next to Olly and opened the book to a page riddled with notes.

“I translated some passages from a couple different sources last night.”

“You said you were going to get some sleep.” Corra chided but Izzy waved her off. Sal noticed for the first time just how dark the circles under Izzy's eyes were.

“The descriptions across various accounts are fairly consistent: The tree is thirty to ninety heads tall when mature. The leaves are slender as fingers with pale bellies. The branches droop as if weeping and the crown sways in the wind. The bark is like chiselled stone, with many cracks and grooves. The colour too is like stone.”

“Is this the description of a plant or a poetry reading?” Bellar complained.

“I kept the translation choices as close to the original as possible,” Izzy sniped back. “detail is more important than tone right now.”

“If the tree droops as if weeping, could that be a type of willow tree?” Sal mused.

“A willow with white bottom leaves sounds like a white willow to me.” Olly added, sounding hopeful for the first time in a while. “We had some along the river in my village.”

“We should speak to a druid before we leap to any conclusions. Let's not go about administering strange leaves and potentially make the situation worse.” Corra cut in, she had seen the hopeful glint in Izzy's eye at Olly's suggestion, and hoped to temper it before her friend got carried away.

“Of course.” Izzy agreed, though she was now clutching her notebook tightly to her chest.

“Sun’s well up now.” Bellar got to his feet. “We should get back on the road.”

The group made their way to the foyer, Bellar leaving without another word while Olly and Sal hastily made some goodbyes.

Olly could do little more than mumble some thanks before chasing after Bellar.

Sal made a point of clasping Corra's hands in his once more as he turned to go. “My thanks again for your hospitality, gentle lady.”

“I'd say you're welcome but I don't trust a Zhent not to take advantage of that.”

“Fair enough.” Sal gave a good natured smile before turning to Izzy.

“Take care of our old man alright Izzy? Really don't want to be stuck with Bellar as my manager.”

“I will.” She tried to smile politely but it was sobering rather than mirthful. “And you look after Olly please.”

“Of course, if it ends up just me and bell end I might have to hang myself.” With a quick bow he slipped away to catch up with the others.

“Can't believe you let them call you Izzy.” Corra chuckled as she watched Sal disappear down the street.

“It was Rugan who thought of it. Said Isolde was too posh.” Though she tried to summon some humour Izzy found her lip trembling instead.

“Isolde–”

“I'm going to go fetch him some ice from the cold room.” She said brusquely, fleeing before the tears could spill.

+++++

When it was finally late enough that the shops would begin opening for the day, Isolde began her search. Though Corra had recommended a druid she knew it would be a fruitless endeavour.

‘Can't think of a place more distasteful to a druid. Afterall: No tree grows in Crimmor.’ Izzy thought bitterly.

The first three apothecaries did not carry white willow bark, and when the topic of Winter's Chill was broached they all had tried to sell her a decoction of belladonna and wolfsbane. The fourth insisted there was no good treatment for Winter’s Chill and it was a punishment from the gods. 

She had almost given up when she reached the fifth store. The shopkeep was a young man with a gentle expression. He listened to her request for white willow bark and questioned her on what she was treating.

“That's an old remedy, that.” Said the man pensively. “My grandmother used to swear by it as a febrifuge.”

Behind him stood a shelf with a built-in ladder and rail. He slid the ladder along the rail till it was at the far end of the shelf and began climbing.

“Febrifuge?”

“It reduces fever. An old Druidic secret. Had a dalliance with a shadow druid in her youth.”

The man seemed to find the jar he was searching for and plucked it from the shelf before sliding down the ladder with ease.

“A shadow druid? And she lived to tell the tale?”

“Ah well she was a bit rebellious, mostly did it to upset my great-grandfather. He ran a loggers corp. Guess the druids thought keeping grandma around would keep the loggers at bay.” 

He opened the jar and withdrew three strips of dried bark, each roughly the length and width of a man's hand. Carefully he cut these into strips.

“You'll want to put one strip per cup of tea,” He continued. “steep it in the water for five minutes first. Try to administer the tea four times a day, as equally spaced as you can.” He laid the strips down on a piece of parchment and folded the edges to form a sachet.

“If this works why doesn't the mage’s circle know about this?” Izzy opened her coin purse to pay the man.

“You know mages. If you have a hammer every problem is a nail, and if that doesn't work well then the problem is unsolvable isn't it?”

Izzy laughed softly, the vice around her heart loosened ever so slightly at this spot of good luck.

He handed her the packet before continuing. “Now it doesn't cure the underlying illness, your friend will have to do that on their own. But with the fever handled they have a much better chance.”

“My thanks, truly.” Izzy accepted the packet with both hands, before hurrying back to the house.

+++++

“You're just going to give him this untested substance?” Corra asked as Izzy gently stirred the willow’s bark tea. “Four out of five apothecarists didn't know it existed. That's not what one would call a glowing recommendation.”

“Don't be ridiculous,” She replied. “obviously I'm going to drink it first.” Before Corra could protest Izzy downed the brew in one draught.

“Lovely.” Corra remarked sarcastically. “I'm glad to see your impulsive streak has been worn down by age and experience.”

“As am I.” Isolde replied with a playful smile. “I've even written down the address of the apothecary for you in case I die.”

“Do you expect me to avenge your death?”

“Don't be silly, it's too hard to poison an apothecarist. Just sue them for every coin they have.”

Corra rolled her eyes. “Do you feel anything yet?”

“Actually the ache in my neck seems better. He didn't mention anything about that.”

“Perhaps the poison has gone straight to your brain.” Corra sighed.

+++++

When a day had passed without any ill effect Izzy had decided it was safe enough to administer the tea. Or at least safer than letting the fever run its course.

They had carefully propped up Rugan in the bed and removed the cold compress from his forehead. His face was drawn and seemed thinner somehow, and his continued silence made Izzy anxious whenever she was in his presence.

She sat on the edge of the bed and carefully spooned the tea to his lips. After a little coaxing she was able to get him to drink, though only the smallest of sips. His breathing had been better today but he hadn't been lucid enough to do anything more than be spoon fed broth.

“This is really just you all over.” Corra remarked as she watched from her chair on the other side of the room.

“What is?”

“Finally bring a man home and he physically can’t speak. Your aversion to conversing with the men you bed has truly peaked.”

“He'll speak plenty when he wakes.” Izzy grumbled.

“Something tells me that when he does it will be with a distinctly northern accent.”

Isolde stiffened at the accusation.

“Oh?” Corra teased. “Didn't think I'd notice the recent trend in your choice of dance partners?”

Isolde pursed her lips, she couldn't really argue the point but she was embarrassed all the same.

“Let me guess,” Cores continued. “you met him in Waterdeep.”

Isolde stared at her, trying to suss out how her friend had gleaned this information.

“Your letters became very sporadic after that job. I'm surprised you never told me about him.”

“I didn't expect to see him again.” Isolde said quietly as she finished feeding Rugan the last of the tea.

“Ah, a secret tryst. You know you're a bit of a romantic for someone who works so hard at avoiding it.” Corra moved to leave the room, patting Isolde gently on the back as she passed. “Try to get some sleep, alright?”

“I will.”

“Liar.” Corra shook her head as she shut the door behind herself.

+++++

It must have been sometime around Moondark when Isolde woke because the room was almost pitch black. She groaned softly as she straightened in her chair, reaching up to rub the renewed ache in her neck.

As her eyes adjusted to the dark she could pick out Rugan's form on the bed, the features of his face, the light shining in his eyes.

She gasped, realising he was awake.

“Rugan?” She whispered, for some reason afraid to raise her voice in the dark. She reached forward to press her hand to his forehead, finding it cool to the touch. His own hand wrapped around her wrist in an instant.

“Why are you haunting me, Iz?”

[bobbybutterfly]

First remade background for the Super Secret Project! It’s quite different than the original digital picture. Being far more messy and impressionistic. I would rather not compare the two as each of them is doing it’s own thing. I do find it funny that even though I spent just AGES on the original, doing all these intricate patterns it looks far more clean and I guess I would say empty compared to this just splatter the paint where ever attitude.

I think I should paint on bigger canvases to force myself to do more details. A big inspiration for me are classically animated movies. Yesterday I watched Secret of Nymh which I should finish today. That movie is a master piece!!!! Kind of hard to believe it’s for kids with how dark it is, but as a child I loved dark stuff so yeah. But the backgrounds! Oh the backgrounds! I really got to step up my game. I’m like a kid in a shonen anime.

I also made a little mock up for how the project will look. Just messed around in Procreate with it. Something I want to change for my future projects is a better longer pre production period. This project did have some pre production. Such as sketches, scrapped background and character art. But nothing even nearing a professional production. I used to go to an art high school (high schools here are like roughly ages 15 to 19, I don’t remember perfectly) and there they had you repeat every step of the process like 20 times before you could move on.

I don’t plan on working for like a proper game or animation company. That being said if Disney comes knocking on the door then I’m not going to say no. But I don’t think that type of environment is for me. And with the rise of AI art. Bitch. Why would they want me around with my “special needs”? I think indie game studios are the way to go. My aesthetic would also suit them far more. So erm. Contact me. I want to buy a custom fursuit.

JUST KIDDING! I ain’t stable enough for a job. I’m barely managing doing what ever the fuck this is.

So what do you guys think?

I MIGHT finish it for Christmas but don’t take my word for it. I don’t like deadlines. There’s still like a truck load of work left to do. Exhibit one. Finishing the script. Getting sensitivity and beta readers. Would be great if I could get my friend who studies psychology to look at it. There’s a lot of trauma. I bet ya there’s going to be a whole lot of editing to do after that. Exhibit two. Backgrounds and sprites. Urg. Exhibit three. Putting it somehow together. Presumably with duct tape, paper clips and prays. Exhibit four. Releasing it. Exhibit five. Shameless self promotion. Such as bothering mid size furry YouTubers.

An absolute dream come true would be having Saber Spark look at it, as he’s the one that introduced me amongst many of you I bet to Squirrel and Hedghog. But please don’t go bothering anyone just yet. I want to do the shameless self promotion last when there’s actually something to promote. Otherwise it’s just a scam.

Am I taking this project too seriously? This is the first time I’m doing something like this so it is more of a prototype of how I will do things for later projects.

Bobby out!

[alta-et-astra]

I've been thinking a lot about how hard everything is becoming. Below are my very rambling thoughts.

In my 20's I was having a Hard Time(tm) what with the Depression and everything, but I feel like the general trend of my life so far has been that I've been putting in the minimum effort possible to do whatever it was that I had to do.

In school I did really well. It came easily to me and I worked hard, but because it came easily, it was more of a situation where I spent a lot of time making sure I did all my homework rather than working really hard to understand something that I didn't get. Maybe I'm doing my younger self a disservice.

When I was in college I originally majored in Classics and Ancient Mediterranean Studies (and also French). Liberal Arts things came really easily to me so while I worked hard in the sense that I spent a lot of time doing all my assignments, I didn't have to break my brain and work hard in that way in order to understand something.

Then I got disillusioned or I got spooked or something and I switched my major basically by throwing a dart at the wall and picking the major that looked the hardest: computer science. And I struggled SO HARD. It didn't come easily to me and all of a sudden school was really difficult and I had a hard time with everything. Of course throughout all this I was also still suffering from undiagnosed depression, but this extra mental load of not Getting It and needing to bang my head against a wall to get anywhere with my classes was an extra level of difficulty. It was very much a discovery of I'm a small sort of smart fish in a big pond of many larger, smarter fish. The experience rocked me and my academic standards slipped and I pretty much barely graduated, coasting along on my GPA boosting Liberal Arts classes. C's get degrees, after all!

After graduation I had a string of software engineering jobs where I was just barely putting in an effort, but it was enough. And then I had a baby and couldn't commute anymore so I got a remote job that I managed to hold down for four years. It was a good job but it was difficult and I learned a lot. At first putting in a bit more than the bare minimum was enough. And then it suddenly wasn't. Things got hard and I put in less effort. And then it all blew up in my face and I couldn't work there anymore.

After four and a half months of unemployment I got another job but I was falling into old patterns of barely putting in any effort. And then my whole department got laid off after two months and it didn't matter. And now once again I have a new job, now going on two and a half months and I'm falling back into barely putting in effort.

And I don't know how to change that. My bare minimum is clearly not enough. And yet between kids, work, hobbies, household, etc. I'm spread so thin I can't imagine putting more of myself into work or anything else. I'm so tired. I feel burnt out. Maybe I'm doing myself a disservice. Maybe I'm just looking to excuse my lack of hard work.

Soon I won't be the new person at work anymore and I won't be able to rely on that as an excuse as to why I haven't been finishing things quickly. Soon there will be another new person and it would look really bad if they start doing better than me who has been there for three months.

This lack of hard work is happening in my art too. I've plateaued in my skill level.

I should apply myself more.

For a long time I flailed around wanting to get out of tech and thinking I could run away to graduate school, though I didn't have a plan and despite applying and getting in a few times, I never actually went. But now I have a direction I think. I know what I want to study and why I want to study it. I have a goal.

I want to think that I am a wiser person than I was in my 20's having never needed to apply myself before I never learned how to. But now I need to apply myself. I can give myself grace where needed but my goal needs to be to not bite the hand that feeds me and my family. Try a little more at work. Butt in chair, stop letting myself get distracted by literally everything other than what I need to do for work.

With art, enjoy the process, do challenging things because they are interesting.

Stay curious in all things, even if they are hard, even if they are for my job and I feel like there's a wall between me and the thing I need to get done.

Work hard on my grad school goals. This is not a waiting period, this is my life and only I can build it in the direction I want it to go.

Do the hard thing. Climb the wall.