#but that was too much text so i summarized it kinda

[lyss-sketchbox]

I'm so glad to see more people that weren't hyped by natlan, archon quest included, after seeing so many 'this is even better than Fontaine' in the tag. I felt like I was going insane.

Sorry excuse me WHAT

I get that fontaine has its flaws but to say its better than natlan is uh. I need someone to fight me over this because i cannot see it.

Let me use the 'and then' and 'because' rule

Fontaine

Fontaine feels like a more natural progression of the plot and characters as the story goes by. We meet lyney and lynette who shows us fontaine, and then lyney was convicted. We help with lyneys trial because furina wanted to duel us in court and this gives her that chance, because of that we discovered how reckless furina is and uncovered the primordial sea water, because of that navia asked us to continue the investigation, therefore it revealed to us more about the oceanid people, about callas, and about neuvillettes stance on justice. And because of her previous fack up furina prepared better for this 2nd trial which tells us more about her character.

At the end of it all we understand the characters, how they are not what we think they are. We view them differently before and after the acts. The reveal of each clue did not feel like an info dump. We were investigating and we slowly take in these information like an investigation would. It was a slog, but it forced us to be involved, forced us to personally look at these facts because WE are suppossed to be the investigators. So it sticks with us better.

Natlan

Natlan feels more stagnant. We meet Kachina because she was being ditched by her teammates. Because of that, while we cant join her team, she offered to show us natlan much like lyney and lynette in the beginning. And then we meet Mualani and Kinich in the stadium and then they explain to us more about the pilgrimage. And then mualani and kachina went to train for the pilgrimage. And then we watch kachina win and be send off to the Night Kingdom. And then we meet Mualani and Kinich again and be offered to tour their tribes while we wait for kachina to return. Because of that we learn that the tribes often get attacked by abyssal monsters. And then kachina died. Because of that we went to meet with the archon and join the team to rescue her. And then capitano vs mavuika happened. And then she explains that the contending fire is dying therefore she must use her power to keep it alive. And then we failed to make it out of the Night Kingdom but we lived because Mavuika had reserve powers to save us.

There is no change between how i view these characters before and after the act that wants me to speculate if they will change in further acts or not. We stay a tourist throughout Natlan, we stand there and things happen around us and characters around us explain to us what those things mean.

Could lyney and navias trial ended the way it did without us? No. Could kachina's pilgrimage win and subsequent rescue happen without us? Id argue yes. That is infact an issue.

[5-htagonist]

i love art, im very grateful for adderall for gifting me with the executive function, ease of prioritization, and clearness of thought <3

[bonefall]

what's your opinion on moonkitti's video?

It's a good video and an excellent analysis for anyone who prefers to get their essays as videos over text.

Though I do have to mention, she did miss a couple of things. I don't blame her at ALL though, like she said, discussing Bumble is a rabbithole and you will find yourself tackling several chronic problems whenever you try to explain exactly how fucked up the entire situation is. Nevertheless, discussing Bumble is my specialty so I have to point out;

Moonkitti makes the mistake of accepting Clear Sky's premise that the territory he kills Bumble on is his. It is not.

Bumble was actually not trespassing-- Clear Sky slaughtered Misty because he is expanding his borders and wanted to steal her land.

The parcel Bumble was standing on is, in Clear Sky's own words, "This NEW part of MY territory."

As a result, I think Moon missed another chronic issue present in the DOTC narrative; Colonialism.

Also-- I know Moon is trying not to swing TOO hard at Gray Wing because his fans are downright bloodthirsty (and I'm sure she is reluctant to go through Bramblestan Harassment 2), but, as a result...

She kinda glosses over the fact that Gray Wing's turn on Bumble does make sense if you read it like he's doing it because he HATES the idea of his object of affection having friends who are not him.

In other words-- Gray Wing is controlling. Xenophobia against Bumble didn't "come from nowhere." It came up because he is toxic and it is a good self-justification for his feelings.

She also quickly summarizes a lot of the Tom the Wifebeater stuff... and ends up implying that Tom just found the kittens all on his own, when Gray Wing actually told him where to find the children.

This was technically an "accident" because Gray Wing is both cruel AND stupid.

I hate him so much Gray Wing SUCKSSSS

But again, I can't blame her for it because clearly she wasn't trying to get into the utterly shambolic mess that is the "Tom the Wifebeater Sleeper Genes" subplot.

yknow. The subplot where the kids decide the man who raised them isnt their real dad because the wifebeater boinked their mom before he started beating her and eventually got her killed.

dotc is a wonferful arc adn the best in the whole sries. Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeee

That all said! Moonkitti didn't miss. She thoroughly gutted Clear Sky's lie and covers most of what's especially rancid about Bumble's treatment. I especially love the sentiment she had in pointing out, "Bumble hated no one; and everyone hated her."

It's a great video, she's been working on it for weeks and it shows. This is yet another victory for the BUMBLE BATTALION. Soon we will invade England and take Harper Collins by force

[burn-before-reading]

Love in the Time of Socialism

joost klein x artist!reader

art, mush, and ramblings about life

warnings: depression (ish), burnout, reader character in some vague mental health funk

word count: 2k

a/n: slight prequel to blue is the colour of your eyes but can be read as stand alone. just same artist reader. vaguely romantic but just ramblings and getting feelings out haha. started this when I was in more of a bad mental state (lol) but im fine now so it got kinda tame by the end of it. still not proofreading anything

title from the song Love in the Time of Socialism by Yellow House

Rpf below the cut—

Normally Joost has to call you because its the only way you will actually look at your phone. Its more often that not you find yourself fixated on planning out your next project, and your friends have to force you back into reality. There was that one time no one had heard from you in over a week and thought you were dead, when you were just working. You hadn’t realized how many texts you missed and apologized for scaring your friends half to death. Especially Joost.

So now you leave your ringer on, and now they call.

Tonight, however, Joost calls and you aren’t in your studio. You are in your bed, where you have been for the entire day. and also most of yesterday. There isn’t a reason in your head specifically why this has happened. you MEANT to get up. Theres a list of chores and things to do just sitting on your desk, but you woke up late, so now nothing will get done. At some point it just became too stressful to even get up and look at it. You roll over and stare at the contact picture of him, smiling with some dumb fish eye lens he thought was funny. You debate not picking up at all.

But you can’t ignore him.

“Hi Joost.” your voice came through the phone more hoarse than intended when you answered, you don’t remember the last time you talked to someone. “Whats going on?”

“the others wanted to go out for drinks tonight, you hadn’t responded so I wanted to check you were joining us.” You could imagine him rocking back and forth on his heels in the middle of his living room while he talked, it was either that or pacing around.

“uhh..” Drinks at a bar was the last thing on your mind. In any other situation you would have loved to be around your friends, but right now you just needed to avoided as much as possible. “Not a good night, tonight. Sorry, I’ll have to join you guys next time.”

Joost felt like something was off, you sounded tired. “Is everything okay?”

“I’ll be fine I just… shit brain day. bad brain thats all. It happens.” You did your best to summarize how you felt without actually admitting anything, you weren’t sure how to explain anything anyway.

“ Oh Im sorry, would it be good, if I came over? I can keep you company, if thats okay?”

“you don’t have to, I’ll be fine tomorrow. I want you to have fun. ” you insisted, but he pressed on.

“I don’t mind, the group would understand. Have you eaten today?”

“Like… a meal? yes, or well, no. I had a soda..” You glance at the half drunk soda from the night before, now flat. “and uhhh..”

“I’ll pick something up.” You could hear him on the other end gathering things together, keys, wallet, probably his ipad.

“.. thank you. I’ll see you in a bit, I guess.”

-

Joost knocked on your door about an hour later. In that time you were able to get out of bed and make your way to the bathroom to change and make yourself somewhat presentable in front of a guest, and to the kitchen to make coffee despite it being 8pm.

You opened it to see Joost with a sheepish smile as he extends his arms out for a hug. “Hi.”

“Hi Joost.” you take the step to hug him, feeling his body heat contrast with the cold nighttime. “I’m glad you’re here.” the two of you head inside to your living room where he empties his bag of take out to reveal a couple different thai dishes and egg rolls. It was hard to not admit you weren’t at least a little bit hungry.

The two of you ate in mostly silence, making small talk about different projects you two have going on, or the fact that the two of you were in between projects. He done with touring for the time being and in the process of working on a new album. You loosely avoiding talking about any current work plans but mentioned one or two paintings you finished for a private gallery commission last month.

“ Just some paintings of animals and nature-ish symbolism. Honestly my heart wasn’t really in that one, but it payed the rent so.” you shrug and shove noodles into your mouth.

“Well now you have the time to work on your own stuff, right?” he commented, leaning back into your couch and looking down at you sitting on the floor instead of any of your own furniture. “Draw whatever your heart desires.”

“I mean I guess.. Im just glad to be done with the oil paints for now. I swear i think I was gonna die in my studio from all the chemicals. I dunno, I finished that whole project last month, I haven’t really been very productive since then.” you trail off and Joost gets a concerned expression on his face.

He sinks down from his spot of the couch to join you in the floor. The fluffy rug brushing against his legs as he adjusts his new sitting position.

“Its okay to take a break, you know.”

“I know I know, I just get frustrated. I never seem to have my energy directed towards the right thing. Whenever I have all those big projects from other contractors, I can brainstorm and think of all these interesting ideas I wanna work on, but I can’t because then I would get behind on the art Im being paid to do.”

“mhm.” he nods, to indicate he’s following along.

“ And then whenever Im done with those projects, I just get… tired. and my focus is gone. and Everything just feels…” you gesture the last bit with your hands, scrambling your fingers, to imply your thoughts. You aren’t looking at him, but you can still see him nodding in your peripherals. Joost always seemed to understand your thinking and explanations to things, even if you thought they were messy.

“Do you want to try painting right now?” he asks. you just shrug your shoulders.

“I don’t know what I would paint.”

“You can paint our dinner, or, or yourself, or your plants maybe?” he suggested and stands up. “Can I paint too?”

“Oh we’re actually doing this?” Not that you didn’t want to, but this self doubt had creeped into your mind again. That failing to produce something decent would prove that you’ve lost all your talent, your skill.

“yea we can have a little painting party!” he chimed, but he hesitated walking over to your studio to grab stuff, still giving you the space to reject his idea.

you looked away and started nervously tapping your fork against the table.

tap tap tap tap

“…sure. We can use my watercolors, Ive been wanting to use them more often anyway.”

the coffee table became a little more cluttered as you set up the paints for the two of you. Joost using an old set 24 pans and you using a newer set of watercolor tubes you were gifted last year and never opened. You watched as Joost immediately dipped his brush in water and started activating the blue paints, spreading it onto his paper in big random strokes.

“what are you painting?”

“not sure yet, maybe im painting you.” he looks up and smirks. you scrunch your nose up.

“why are you using so much blue. am I a smurf?” you joke and he just shrugs and points to your own paper.

“Just mess around, can’t be any worse than what im doing.”

tap tap tap tap tap tap

you fidget with your own brush for a few seconds lo get before grabbing a big mop brush and wetting your paper with clean water. Taking your smaller brush again, you pour out a small amount of yellow and mix it up with some more water. You hesitate for a moment longer before letting the brush lightly touch the surface, creating a burst of colour on the paper as the colour seeps onto the page. You make a few more random marks before switching to another warm colour and repeating the process, now watching the colours bleeds and mix into each other. You look at Joost paper and see that he is actually now trying to paint you, the blue fortunately was able to be mostly contained to the background.

“Do you ever think about what you would do if you weren’t a musician?” you ask.

“I dunno I think after this I could have a pretty successful art career.” he teases but sees in your face the question is more serious. “I don’t know. I started off with youtube, but if I wasn’t doing that… its hard to think about what my life would be like if I didn’t follow this path.”

“I always have this feeling deep down, that I made a wrong choice somewhere along the line. I was thinking about going to school for psychology, I also wanted to work with animals at one point, be a vet. I enjoy art, don’t get me wrong, but I just worry that in making it my job Ive just drained all the passion I had for it.”

You let the paper dry before staining the page with lines of dark burgundy, creating hands and a human heart. he hums as he listens, not adding anything, but simply letting you vent. beginning to piece together your mood from earlier. “I don’t have any jobs lined up right now, which is what Ive been waiting for, to work on my own stuff, yknow? I haven’t had the time ive wanted to make something for myself for a while. But now I just feel, I feel like ive been frozen.”

“things seem to be okay right now. I like what youve made. ” you look down and see the scribbles youve made with your paint. hands clasped over a broken heart. you shrug and smile softly, signing the bottom.

“Just a scribble, you can have it if you want.” You hand the paper over to him. “thank you for coming by, its… its nice being around you. Helps a bit.”

Joost takes the paper and studies it for a second. “I really like it, maybe I should come by more often.”

“If you bring the food we can have art nights whenever you want.” he holds up his paper. The blue bleeding into your skintone and hair since he didn’t wait for anything to properly dry. “I might stick to my ipad though, I don’t know why you like this paint.” he scrunches his nose at it. you laugh and it makes him smile.

You notice for the first time how bright his eyes look when he smiles, but you brush the thought away.

-

“Feeling a bit better?” he asks as he lingers by the door on his way out.

“a bit. like I said It was just a mood, I was gonna be fine tomorrow most likely… I still appreciate you coming over.”

“Don’t ever be afraid to call or text okay? Im always here to talk if you need. or just to listen.”

“definitely. Ive been meaning to uh, talk to someone about all this stuff anyway, you’re not a professional but ill keep it in mind.”

he grins and goes in for one last hug. you feel him slightly squeeze you and linger a little longer than usual before letting go. With one last glance he waves and head off. You see him pull out a cigarette for the walk back. It takes you a second to close the door. standing there watching him walk off until he turns a corner and disappears. Closing the door you sigh and go the clean up your living room.

You notice he left the portrait he drew of you. signed at the bottom with a smiley face next to his name.

It gets hung up in your studio above your desk.

[gallopinggallifreyans]

I would love to hear your opinions about ancient currency! And any recommendations you have for learning more about the Roman economy!

oh boy i am SO glad you asked! I'm going to put everything under a readmore because it's a Lot.

I have a few opinions on Greek coinage, specifically that of the introduction of coinage to Athens, though I'm working on a proposal for studying Spartan coinage rn.

Current publications re:Athens haven't really determined For Sure who introduced coins; it's a toss-up between Solon and Pisistratus but I'm in the Pisistratus camp for reasons that I can absolutely summarize in a separate post, as I've written and published a paper in my undergrad journal that (hopefully) holds weight in the current hodgepodge of thoughts. If you'd like that, I can write it up and link it here!

Re:Spartan coinage, I think the Spartan homoioi were real idiots. Most city-states were using silver (and very occasionally gold) for their coins, but Spartan homoioi were using iron spits. The spits (obeloi) were six to a drachma, which was the exchange rate for a long time. And by long time I mean there was no such thing as a floating conversion, coins were just the most portable form of precious metal, which was intrinsically valued. Outside Sparta (even the perioikoi) most city-states would have used ingots pre-coinage and that evolved into stamped metal, i.e. coinage. The Spartans considered themselves to be very religious and followed the Great Rhetra (unsure if Lykourgos existed), which maintained that silver and gold were holy and could not be used, so they used iron.

Unfortunately, the rest of Greece didn't follow that, and used silver in their coins, especially influenced by Attic-Ionian city-states who were in regular trade with Persia and further east, i.e. regions that valued precious metal outside their religious significance. Essentially, Spartans kinda screwed themselves over re:trade outside Sparta; they couldn't even trade in contemporary currency with the rest of Lakonia and forced their subject city-states into the same position. This is supported mostly by the explosion of Messenian and other Lakonian coinages after Sparta collapsed, though I want to see if I can find more text evidence, since I (an archaeologist) tend to rely too heavily on material. It's a whole thing, personally I believe this was a significant factor in Sparta's collapse, though other things factored in as well. Sparta was incredibly insular both in its trade/economy and religious practice and that combination led to its downfall.

For the Roman sources, I recommend starting with the Cambridge Companion to the Roman Economy by Walter Scheidel, and The Ancient Economy by Walter Scheidel and Sitta von Reden. Von Reden has excellent articles related to the ancient economy in general, and most are available on JSTOR, so I recommend giving her stuff a look.

I also highly recommend reading Moses Finley's work The Ancient Economy (no relation to Scheidel and Von Reden's work), as it lays the foundation for much of our current school of thought. Peter Temin's subsequent work, The Roman Market Economy argues against Finley and kicks off a whole debate about how to define an economy without using capitalism as the basis, because capitalism as we know and define it did not exist then, and it is incorrect to assume that. We can call it protocapitalist, but not capitalist.

Slavery in Rome is a nuanced subject that is integral to learning about its economy — I suggest keeping an open mind and treading carefully with respect to post-1492 slave trades. Noel Lenski's chapter "Framing the Question" (linked; you need access through your institution) discusses the slave trade against a Finleyan model, while Scheidel (him again) talks about how to determine the wages of slaves (JSTOR link). W. V. Harris talks about the demography and geography of slaves here (JSTOR link). These three are good starts for learning about Roman slavery, but if you want more sources, I can pull some up for you.

I don't want to overload you with sources, so in general I'll recommend anything by Scheidel, Von Reden, Nicholas Purcell and Peregrine Horden (connectivity), Seth Bernard (coins and emissions), Astrid Van Oyen (tech innovation), and Willem Jongman (economic structure). As with the slavery sources, if you want direct links I can definitely find them for you! I'm always happy to share info :)

[elsewhereuniversity]

i was wondering: how do you keep track of all the objects that are traded back and forth? seems like it would get kinda cluttered wherever you’re keeping them. do you have a spreadsheet or something?

I tried spreadsheets for a while at the beginning! But it was too much time to summarize objects, and pasting the full text of asks got cumbersome very quickly. So the current system is a series of word docs, which is a lot easier to ctrl+f than tumblr usually is, due to tumblr's loading time and habit of just. hiding asks sometimes for no reason.

All charm asks get put into drafts right away, and their text is pasted into my 'charms - unposted', so I can easily search the text of the asks if I need to. Given tumblr's... everything, the most reliable way of finding anything again on the blog is also searching a specific phrase from the ask - another reason summaries weren't working early on to keep track of things.

When a charm is answered and put into the queue, the text is cut from 'charms - unposted' and moved to 'charms - current', which is sorted into sections by object type: pens, sewing kit, jewelry, weapons, rocks, keys/locks, etc. I bold the relevant part of the text, eg. 'when the moon rises this silver ring glows', to make it easier to scan quickly. All the different sections have shortcuts at the top of the doc so I can jump around easily. (I thought about organizing it by effect, but that was a lot harder to sort).

When they're given away, they get put in the 'charms - gone' doc, which isn't sorted because for the most part I don't need to find anything in here again. But it's still nice to have an easily searchable list of them, just in case!

[casual-video-transcripts]

“INTERVIEW - Ben Affleck, Oscar Isaac, Charlie Hunnam & Garrett Hedlund” by SensCritique

Transcript by @ casual-video-transcripts is under the cut

[0:00] Charlie Hannam: Kamikaze!

[0:01] (Ben Affleck laughing and Charlie Hunnam chuckling followed by a clap from Ben)

[0:02] Oscar Isaac: Woof woof!

(Garrett Hedlund giggling)

[0:03] Oscar: Are we trained animals?

[0:05] (Translating On-Screen Text to English: Triple Frontier)

[0:06] (On-Screen Text: Ben Affleck)

[0:07] (On-Screen Text: Charlie Hunnam)

[0:08] (On-Screen Text: Oscar Isaac)

[0:09] (On-Screen Text: Garrett Hedlund)

[0:10] Charlie: Hello SensCritique!

[0:11] Garrett and Oscar: Hello SensCritique!

[0:13] Ben: Bonjour SensCritique.

[0:14] That's French.

[0:15] Charlie: There you go! Wha-cha-cha!

[0:18] (Translating On-Screen Text to English: CAN YOU SUMMARIZE THE FILM?)

[0:20] (Translating On-Screen Text to English: IN ONE SENTENCE)

[0:22] Oscar: See, the thing is one sentence can be veeeeery long...

[0:24] Garrett: Yeah, yeah, yeah.

[0:25] Oscar: So you can put commas!

[0:26] Garrett: Just commas.

[0:27] Ben: A group of ex-Special Forces soldiers...

[0:30] Oscar: come together to... carry out a heist in South America against a narcos traficante.

[0:39] Ben: Turns out, it wasn't that hard.

Charlie: Right?

[0:40] (Ben and Charlie laugh)

[0:41] (Translating On-Screen Text to English: HOW DID YOU GET INVOLVED WITH THE PROJECT?)

[0:45] Ben: It was a combination of genres: it was strong, compelling, pure action heist story, but so was also a morality tale, and sort of-kinda a parable about military intervention.

[0:57] Charlie: Between the cast and the script, and me being excited for J.C. as a filmmaker, it was a no brainer for me. He was looking at a friend of mine, Garrett Hedlund.

[1:04] Garrett: And he had no idea about that, and got really excited about that. And then I got excited about that. And then Oscar called and said -

[1:10] Oscar: Got excited too.

[1:11] (Garrett laughs)

[1:12] Garrett: And he got excited too!

[1:13] Oscar: And then you guys said that -

[1:15] Garrett: And then I got excited because he was excited and you know -

[1:19] (Translating On-Screen Text to English: WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE FILM?)

[1:21] (Translating On-Screen Text to English: WITH YOUR CO-STAR/NEIGHBOR)

[1:22] Garrett and Oscar: Inside Llewyn Davis!

[1:23] (Translating On-Screen Text to English: (they both play/star in it))

[1:24] (Garrett and Oscar are in a giggling fit)

[1:27] Charlie: I like The Town a lot, there was Argo, Gone Baby Gone. You know...

[1:31] Ben: There we go.

[1:32] Charlie: Really really really...

[1:33] Ben: Oh wow.

Charlie: Spectacular stuff!

[1:34] Oscar: He's an iconic guy.

[1:36] Garrett: And he's says that! He's got that! He's Llewyn!

[1:38] Oscar: Yeah, yeah.

[1:39] Garrett: And that's iconic.

[1:40] Ben: And I like Charlie as a person.

[1:42] Charlie: Yeah (and then laughs)

[1:43] Ben: So... Hard to pick a favorite!

[1:45] (Charlie laughs and then Ben laughs after)

[1:47] Charlie: I'm not gonna help ya. Come on!

[1:49] (Ben leans towards the camera and continues laughing)

[1:50] Charlie: We're all waiting!

[1:52] Ben: I would say...

[1:54] (Take a shot of water every time Ben and Charlie laugh LOL)

[1:55] Ben: Did I tell you I watched The [Lost] City of Z.

[1:57] Charlie: Oh no you didn't!

[1:58] Ben: Yes, it was quite good! After I haven't seen it initially, and then when I got to know him - I've seen Sons of Anarchy, it's great. That's the thing everybody knows! And I've seen the King Arthur movie too! He's a first class actor.

[2:09] (Translating On-Screen Text to English: WHAT IS YOUR NEXT PROJECT?)

[2:11] (Translating On-Screen Text to English: WE WANT THE EXCLUSIVE)

[2:12] Ben: Wow, that's a tall order.

[2:13] Charlie: (chuckles) Yes, it is!

[2:15[ (Ben chuckles)

Charlie: You don't ask for much, do ya?

[2:16] Garrett: Ed Harris did the adaptation of a book called The Ploughman with myself and Robert Duvall. It's a two-hander, like a 70s deputy outlaw kind of thing.

[2:26] Charlie: I just did a thing - a movie with Justin Kurzel. The next thing that comes out is a film about Ned Kelly. This is the first time on camera that I'm talking about it, and that's all you get.

[2:37] Ben: I did a movie, it doesn't have a title, but with the Gavin O'Connor who is the director, he's the director of The Accountant. Yeah, that'll be out late summer, early fall time.

[2:45] Oscar: I'm also doing a small sort of sci-fi movie. It's called Star Wars Episode 9.

[2:51] Garrett: It's kinda - It's a smaller budget kinda thing.

[2:53] Oscar: Yeah.

[2:54] Garrett: It's very hard in cinema: you know, if it's not a very big budget thing, you know it's a small budget thing. The... the... Space Wars.

[3:02] Oscar: Space Fights?

[3:03] Garrett: Space Fights.

[3:04] Oscar: (chuckles) Yeah.

End of Transcript

YouTube Channel: SensCritique

Video Description:

Le plus beau cast de toutes les interviews SensCritique. Pour la sortie de "Triple Frontière", le nouveau film de J.C Chandor, aujourd'hui sur Netflix, nous avons eu la chance de rencontrer Ben Affleck, Oscar Isaac, Charlie Hunnam et Garrett Hedlund !

La fiche SensCritique du film : http://bit.ly/2HwvcEG

Disclaimer: None of the videos I transcribe belong to me. They belong to the content creators and the crew behind the videos. Please keep in mind that my transcripts may not be 100% as I am not a professional. I'm just someone who wants to provide video transcripts for people like me to understand and enjoy these videos.

For this video, I focused on the speakers while translating some of the on-screen text from French to English. I used the French captions in the video as a guide for the timestamps. I did also use Google translate for some of the French captions, so I apologize if some are incorrect. For the rest of the transcript I just followed whatever came out of the guys' mouths.

If there are any corrections you would like me to make, let me know in the comment section of the post.

If you like this video or any other videos from SensCritique, please support them by watching their videos on their YouTube channel and/or through other means by them. Also, if you want to support the film, it's on Netflix and apparently the sequel is in the works with Charlie as a main producer. Also, if you'd like, check out the filmography of the cast like Charlie Hunnam, Ben Affleck, Garrett Hedlund, Oscar Isaac, and Pedro Pascal (who's not in this interview but is in Triple Frontier interviews).

Personal Notes: So I got distracted while editing the mera video transcript and found myself back into the Triple Frontier fandom. I haven't been here since 2019 so it's been a hot minute. I transcribed this video because there is a section in the middle that is so funny to me that I almost had to hold my breath transcribing it. Rewatching these interviews really shows the golden retriever personality of Garrett that I didn't fully notice until like a few month ago when I got distracted back into the Triple Frontier and Garrett fandom. The video is funny because it literally cuts Garrett off because he got excited that Charlie was excited and Oscar was excited and -

Anyways, I don't know when I'll finish the mera video I have been working on. I think it's been maybe half a year. When I finally finish it, I'll probably schedule a series of reblogged posts that'll hint to it. In the meantime, I think I did transcribe a Triple Frontier-related video that has Pedro in it so keep an eye on that among other videos.

That's all for now. I'll catch you all in the next post. See ya!

[thek1ngtalks]

Some backstory info/your inspiration/or what drove you to writing Mountain To No One?

Also, why that title specifically?

Gimme some TNE crumbs here.

I have been really patient in waiting for chapter 3 y'know... 🥲

okokok I have been WAITING for an ask like this

warnings!!! Spoilers! For the end of The Novel's extra and stuff under the cut! also i yap. SOOOOO much. (+bonus drawings to beg for ur forgiveness TT)

so backstory? I finished the novel and lost my fucking mind at the ending. I was GUTTED that such a small group of people remembered Hajin and that Suho wasn't one of them despite LITERALLY FINDING OUT HIS WORLD IS A NOVEL AND HAJIN IS GOD !!! like that is canon! and yet! he doesn't get to remember him! i felt wronged.

My inspiration hit me in the middle of the night in which i wrote two simple sentences before falling asleep.

There's a number on his smartwatch that leads to nowhere. Suho's gotten in the habit of texting it throughout his day. Today, it texted back.

"k1ng, isn't that just the description of MTN?" why yes, yes it is. because i was NOT gonna make a new summary when the original inspiration worked so well

And for what drove me to actually continue writing it when I had (literally) a dozen other ideas for TNE fanfics?

Not sure, actually. I just kinda got inspired, wrote another hundred words and it sort of grew from there. Then i had to make a outline for what I wanted from the story and the ORIGINAL plan was for 2-3 chapters in total of a quick, sweet reunion.

Then I wrote 7k words for the first chapter and 14k for the second. You can see where that went down the drain.

So, to summarize, 1) Finished the novel, hated the ending. 2) Wrote a prompt I ended up liking. 3) Got WAY too deep into it to stop

The title... the title... well originally the title was Mountain to Nowhere. Super similar to Mountain to No One, right? WRONG. Mountain to Nowhere was just a name that sounded nice, felt vaguely interesting and was easy to remember (it's also why i shorthand it to MtN instead of MtNO, it's what i called it in the drafting phase).

Mountain to No One, though, that's different. It doesn't roll off the tongue as easily, implies something FAR different than 'nowhere' and honestly felt more meaningful to me.

I might sound pretentious (if I haven't already) but when I write 'No One', I think of it like the myth of Odysseus. He used the name Outis (Nobody or No One) so i just kinda nabbed it, figuring someone might make the connection one day. I fr thought, "Oh i am COOKING" because i did basic comparisons between two morally ambiguous heroes with hidden identities and (questionably) good intentions. Kim Hajin and Odysseus. but i mean, i wasn't wrong. i was kinda cooking with that one

So 'No One' refers to Kim Hajin. The title essentially means 'Mountain to Kim Hajin' which is why it felt more meaningful than 'mountain to nowhere' which did NOT have that background when i thought it up

IM SO SORRY IT'S BEEN 7 MONTHS. i know, i know. seven months! IM SORRY. im also sorry for yapping. but im offering a few drawings as repayment and this week im officially posting teasers for the new chapter (which should go out by halloween! (hopefully)) so i hope u forgive me anon

[faeriefully]

Saw you're an english major, was kinda curious since I've considered going back to college with maybe that as my major. whats it like? what goes into it?

I'm not fully sure what I'm asking to be honest

Typically, most schools that have English degrees will have two, occasionally three, tracks to choose from: Literature, Writing & Rhetoric, and (less common) Creative Writing.

English majors across all disciplines focus on critical thinking, communication, genre studies, a deep understanding of the inter workings and functions of the English language (linguistics & grammar), analysis and interpretation of texts, culture studies, bibliographical studies, research, composition of narrative and other creative works, and studies of theoretical interpretation. The track chosen decides what your studies emphasize from that list.

— Literature

High emphasis on reading, interpretation, analysis, history and culture studies, and theoretical interpretation.

This is my track. My work largely consists of reading a broad spectrum of literature (and other media), analyzing it through a technical, cultural, philosophical, and theoretical framework, and writing about it. This is probably the most stereotypical assumption of what an English major is honestly. These are the people who teach you how to read and interpret and think.

However, “English” is a multimodal discipline. I’ve written 12page papers, written blog entries, digitized a 17th century cookbook, made a podcast, and worked with a lot of technology while learning about old bibliographical techniques.

Some classes: Brit Lit Medieval—1760, World Literature, Linguistics, Fiction, Intro to Poetry, Advanced Grammar, Latina Writers and Filmmakers

— Writing & Rhetoric

High emphasis on communication, argumentation in media/texts/writing, critical analysis, history, and technology.

Not my track, but I work closely with this track and they have some overlap in classes. These are your technical writers, your copy writers, your translation studies people (which I do too), your emphasis on how a piece of writing is arguing something or what it is saying rather than the full cultural history and implications that led to it. These are your scholars who break down arguments and explain in detail how they work and where they came from not only in writing but in visual and auditory media as well. High emphasis on writing, not so much on the broad spectrum of literature analysis. These are the people who learn and teach you how to write and argue and think.

My friends on this track have written papers, made podcasts, built websites, made visual presentations, and done more technical pieces of writing (instruction manuals/tutorials etc.).

Some classes: Visual Rhetoric, Linguistics, Adv Grammar, Analysis of Satire, Digital Composition

— Creative Writing

Hardest to find amongst English programs but not necessarily rare.

Easiest to summarize I guess. Creative writing breaks down and teaches the fundamentals and elements and techniques of genres. Ranging from poetry to drama to fiction and narrative non-fiction.

— Honorable Mention: English Education

This track is sometimes categorized under education tracks and sometimes under English. Emphasis on becoming a teacher specifically in English.

——————

I’m biased, but I fully believe that an English major is an under appreciated major. We’re one of the most versatile majors, have high communication, adaptability, and comprehension skills, and are good analytical and creative thinkers.

Most programs nowadays also train us in various forms of media, technology, and old traditional communication methods.

Anyways… thanks for asking and if I didn’t answer something you wanted to know, let me know. This is a weird special interest of mine I could babble on about forever.

[lil-tachyon]

For the last couple years I've been keeping a handwritten list of good horror stories I've read. I guess the most recommendable ones are The Music of Erich Zann by Lovecraft, The Stolen Body by Wells, Mimic by Wollheim, The Thing in the Weeds by Hodgson, Cyclops by Leiber, The Screaming Man by Beaumont, and The Open Window by Saki. I might type up and post the whole list on my blog after I've done some more reading (my list of things I still need to read grows much faster than the other list).

Including your other suggestions so I can tackle them all in one post.

I wasn't sure I was going to get to all these but I ended up being kinda knocked out by a nasty cold this week and had time to lay up in bed reading through all of them. Which was an absolute pleasure! Thank you for putting this list together. For fun I thought I'd do a mini-review of each story.

For context, I'm the kind of guy that's read probably every H. P. Lovecraft or Clark Ashton Smith story ever published. I had devoured most of Jules Verne and H. G. Wells by the time I was 14. What I'm trying to say is that I'm already a nerd pre-disposed to loving any Weird Fiction or early sci-fi/horror. If that kind of stuff isn't your speed, then adjust your expectations accordingly.

Also SPOILERS AHEAD for 50-100+ year old short stories.

"The Music of Erich Zann" - H. P. Lovecraft - 1921: This was always going to get a recommendation from me, I just enjoy Lovecraft too much. I'm glad I re-read it though, it had been a while and I think this might be one of my favorite of his stories now. The thing that stood out to me this time around was the exploration of the relationship between Zann and the anonymous protagonist. Feels uncharacteristic of a Lovecraft story to focus so much on the interactions between two human characters and it's done with a fair bit of depth. Bonus: no Lovecraftian racism in this story! Also check out this thrash/prog banger from the Mekong Delta album named after this story.

"The Stolen Body" - H. G. Wells - 1898: So when I opened up my copy of A Dream of Armageddon: The Complete Supernatural Tales (a misnomer it turns out, because it didn't contain the other Wells story on this list) I was surprised to find a bookmark exactly halfway through "The Stolen Body" from where I must've stopped the last time I tried reading this anthology over a decade ago. And I can understand why I would've stopped there because this story is kind of a slog. The premise is fine- a man severs his consciousness from his physical body in the course of an experiment in astral projection and is alarmed to find that when he attempts to return to corporeality another spirit has already taken possession of his frame. The problem is that this story is recounted twice- first from the perspective of a friend where, in spite of their incomplete information, it's pretty obvious what has transpired, and then a second time from the astral-projecting protagonist himself. In the protagonist's telling there's an interesting account of his journey through a kind of vapid hell where body-less spirits wander through eternity suffering of boredom and only able to interact with the physical world via mediums but the concept isn't explored in any depth and is recounted in a painfully "tell, don't show" manner. Can't say I recommend, but it's an interesting artifact of a time when late 19th century occultic beliefs showed up in sci-fi. Kind of like how a lot of 50s-70s sci-fi features psychics.

"Mimic" - Donald A Wollheim - 1942: My favorite story from the list. It's weird, compelling, and extremely brief. I won't summarize it because I think you should just read it. Surprised I hadn't heard of it before, especially since there's apparently a Guillermo Del Toro film adaptation of it? Also surprisingly difficult to track down the text. There are a few incomplete versions of it floating around but if you want the full story, I found it as part of this anthology on archive.org.

"The Thing in the Weeds" - William Hope Hodgson - 1913: - Before this, my only exposure to Hodgson had been "The House on the Borderland" (great story by the way), and reading the "The Thing in the Weeds" has me thinking I should dig a bit deeper into his bibliography. Conveys a sense of claustrophobia and anxiety that feels like classic "Weird Tales" fare while dealing with much lower stakes than unnameable cosmic beings. Maybe more horror stories should be set on the open sea...

"Cyclops" - Fritz Leiber - 1965: This is not a story, this is Leiber's idea for a cool vacuum-dwelling space creature dressed up as a story. Dialogue feels totally unnatural, characters are blank slates, tension is set at zero. But the creature is pretty darn cool and the story is very short. So if you want to just read about a neat alien, go ahead!

"The Howling Man" - Charles Beaumont - 1959: I had already seen the Twilight Zone adaptation of this story a while back so I knew the outline of the plot already, but that in no way diminished my joy in reading this. Beaumont's prose is highly engaging and contains a surprising amount of humor that I don't remember being present in the television version. The only real weak point is the ending. I think a bit more ambiguity over whether and to what the extent the Howling Man and the Abbott were lying to the protagonist would've demanded more introspection from the reader. The idea that releasing the Howling Man / Satan is the direct cause of WWII feels a little too simplistic and also depends on this weird assertion that the early Weimar Republic was experiencing an unprecedented era of peace and prosperity that I'm pretty sure doesn't hold up to historical scrutiny. Still highly recommend, a very fun read!

"The Open Window" - Saki / H. H. Munro - 1914: Less a horror story and more a... silly story? I don't know how to describe it other than it feels like the kind of thing you would have to read and analyze for a single high-school English period. Didn't really do anything for me but it's like a 5-minute read so check it out if you want. Does make me wish I could go on one of those "retreats to the countryside for my nerves" that turn-of-the-century English gentleman and ladies are always going on.

"In the Abyss" - H.G. Wells - 1896: A much better Wells story! And I was lucky enough to find this in the other print Wells anthology I own. (I have an addiction to bringing home old paperbacks I don't need but it's a cheap addiction and I don't have the heart to break it. Plus they're all on shelves and alphabetized so my wife can't get mad at me. Anyway, it's the shelves and shelf space that gets expensive...) It can be a little bit "gadget fiction-y" in its description of the submersible but overall it's well-paced with some good tension and a truly weird exploration of an underwater world. Recommend if you're looking for something outright odd or you like specifically underwater sci-fi. Don't recommend if you don't like thinking about the ways you might die in a submersible.

"The Stone Ship" - William Hope Hodgson - 1914: An interesting and definitely weird story, again about strange happenings on the open sea. Stretches the premise a bit too much, both in the actual length of the story and in my willingness to suspend my disbelief of the "scientific" explanation given at the end. I enjoyed it, but for a spookier and shorter take on a similar premise I'd recommend Lovecraft's "Dagon."

Anyway, thank you again @siryl for your recommendations, I had a blast reading through them!

[writtenonreceipts]

This is the chapter that kinda started it all, especially the flashback. I’m trying to make things move faster than they want to.  I think I’m just resigned to be that fic writer who never finishes anything.  Sorry you have to deal with me…

Find the Masterlist Here // Ao3 Link

Warnings: These apply to the flashback portion at the end of the chapter: language (nothing major, just more than I typically like using), war, blood, injury, minor character death, if you’re iffy/worried dm me or send an ask and I can summarize details if you’d like.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

Where We've Been, Where We're Going--Part Eight  

The next few days continued in an easy rhythm.  

Rowan didn’t know what surprised him more--that he adapted so easily to the various tasks he had on hand or that he and Aelin had entered into a cautious friendship.

Though, to be frank, cautious was putting it lightly.  It was a situation he’d never found himself in before and he wasn’t sure how to proceed.  He made sure he wasn’t in the house when Aelin wasn’t and tried to stay out even when she was home, only returning when he had to or she sent him a message about an extra pizza slice in the fridge for him.  But he didn’t want to intrude.  Or he really just didn’t want to run the risk of letting something slip or proving just how incapable he was at being around other people.  

Keeping busy helped.  

Unfortunately, he didn’t sleep any better which was more of a pain than he’d let anyone know.    During the day he could distract himself with various tasks of making sure fence posts were even or he did a decent job installing windows.  At night, alone and in the silence, was when his mind would wander most.  It was here in the quiet confines of his mind that his memories came out from the shadows.

 For now, it was easy enough to keep to himself.  When he got too restless at night he’d go out and sit in the bed of the truck and stare out at the night sky.  More often than not, it was cloudless and he could watch the stars.  It was much as he did in Kovac only with different constellations.  

The only thing that really bothered him was ignoring the various texts and calls now that he was letting his phone remain charged up.  He’d only done it to keep Aelin appraised of his watching Meiri that one night.  And then, for some reason, he left the damn thing on and charged ever since.  

Aelin only sent him a few messages during the day.  Mostly simple reminders to eat something.  And then a few updates on Emrys as well.  Rowan didn’t tell Aelin he’d given Malakai his number already.  He didn’t want to run the risk of her not messaging as often as she did.

Which he realized made him a miserable ass, but he already knew that.

By the time two full weeks had passed since his arrival, Rowan had become a recognizable figure in Terrasen.  People actually knew his name and would greet him on the street or at the store.  Some would hire him out for odd jobs in their yards, even Sartaq let Rowan swing by to fix up a few other cars on occasion.

He was still helping get the motel up and running of course.  Emrys was still in rehab after some tests came back a little less optimistic than what the doctors preferred.  So, Rowan kept up his usual ritual of odd job help in the morning and hammering away at the motel until well into the night.

The routine was more helpful than he’d ever admit.

It almost made it easier to bear the memories.

Until his phone kept buzzing.  There was only one consistent number that reached out to him and after a while, Rowan wondered if he should just save the new contact.

Which was probably why he was currently distracting himself at Sartaq’s garage.

It was a late Friday afternoon with the usual summer heat and bright sunlight banking through the open doors.  Rowan was staring down into a nearly obliterated radiator and hose tear wondering just how poorly this car had been treated in the past when Sartaq finally broached a topic he’d much rather had avoided.

They’d both served in Kovac, Sartaq for such a short time and Rowan had been busy in sniper training that they’d never met.  Sartaq also hadn’t been in a position that could also lead him to potential harm.  Family strings and all.  Rowan didn’t begrudge the man for that--as far as he could tell, Sartaq would have been in the front lines even now if his family would allow it.  Instead, to keep him from getting himself killed, his wealthy parents let him land in Terrasen fixing up old cars.  Rowan had the feeling his new friend resented his family quite a bit even if he liked the work he was doing.

“Did you ever go to Orynth?” Sartaq asked.  He leaned over another car that had been brought over doing a general assessment on what would just be a break-check and oil change.

Rowan paused to wipe his hands on a grease rag, not really wanting to talk about the war.  But he figured Sartaq would be a decent enough guy to back off if Rowan started showing any signs of disinterest in the topic.

“No, but I heard it was rough,” he said. “One of my mates was reassigned there for a few weeks out of punishment.”

Lorcan never did say why Maeve made him go, just that he’d learned his lesson on the matter.  He did, however, share that they could all consider themselves lucky for not going.  Lorcan had always been that way: never sharing anything, never revealing anything, never opening up with vulnerability.

“Nesryn was stationed there for ages,” Sartaq said.  He often referred to his friend as though Rowan knew her himself.  As it was, she was a constant staple of conversation in the garage.  “Always said it was the worst place to be.”

“Isn’t she the one that would whip out a bow and arrow instead of actually using a gun in training?” Rowan asked.  In all honesty, he was desperate to have some sort of a good connection to his memories of Kovac instead of the blood and violence and misery.  So why not play into this conversation just a little?

Sartaq chuckled. “Yeah, probably.  She was only a translator so she never liked using a gun, but the locals had bows and arrows to use when their resources were so shitty.  So she’d entertain the kids when their parents were dying or after a raid when the Valg gangs would wreak havoc.  She was good like that.”

Rowan remembered her.  He’d never actually met her, only saw brief snippets of her or heard other soldiers talk about how she’d take no shit or stupid orders.  The one real memory he had occured after that damn raid that sent the rest of his military career into hell.  

He’d been kicked out of a debriefing and instead was trying to clean his rifle when this woman waltz through camp with a bow and arrow.  She had a bag full of candy and water on one shoulder and a beautiful handcrafted weapon on the other.  Kids tentatively approached while she put on a small show of all the odd places she could land and arrow from all sorts of strange positions.

It was the first time in a long time he’d seen the kids of the village smile.

“Yeah, Maeve got pissed at her for it too,” Rowan said.  He loosened a bolt on one of the spring clamps that needed to be replaced.  “Said she was being too distracting.  But Nesryn just shot an apple straight from a kid's hand.  Didn’t even look.”

With a fond shake of his head, Sartaq didn’t say anything for a minute. “You were under Maeve’s command?”

And just like that, Rowan felt an icy dread pool in his gut.

“Yeah.”

“I heard about her and that prick Hammel.”

Static started buzzing in Rowan’s ears.  He crossed to where there were some extra bolts and equipment waiting to be used.  Tacky sweat gathered on his skin and he wondered if he could get along with disinterested grunts the rest of the day.

“They were always so elitist, yeah?  Really careful about who they let on their squad.”

Sartaq didn’t notice Rowan’s dilemma in the slightest.  Which was supposedly a good thing.  If he didn’t notice then he wouldn’t ask about it.  

“How’d you manage to be a part of that little cadre?”

“I was a sniper,” Rowan said.  He took his time picking out a new bolt, clamp, and radiator hose that would fit the car’s needs he was working on. “Had the best marks, I guess.”

“Strange she’d let you go after getting her claws in you.”

“Proof we don’t always get what we want,” Rowan said, lightly.  He added a laugh, strained though it was.  

So, Sartaq didn’t know about that last mission.  Not surprising considering how long he’d been out, but still.  Rowan was grateful he didn’t have to talk about it.  He could manage a passing tale about Talbot if he needed.  But that last raid?  The one where he’d screwed up enough to be stripped of his previous honors?  To be dishonorably discharged?  That one he’d take with him to his grave.

…

It was late the next day when Rowan got a call he actually wanted to pick up.

He was back at the motel trying to figure out how to reach one of the window ledges that had not been planned out very well when his phone buzzed.  The only reason he knew who it was was because Aelin stood and watched as he saved the number.

MALAKAI steamed across the screen in bold letters.

For a moment, Rowan worried if it was bad news.  He wasn’t sure he could handle a messy phone call.  But then he managed to convince himself that Malakai certainly wouldn’t try calling him if it were bad news about Emrys.  He’d be too focused on Aelin and his son. So, Rowan picked up the call.

“Malakai,” he greeted.

“Rowan, glad you have caught you,” Malakai said.  The unspoken I didn’t know if you’d actually answer was particularly loud in the brief silence that followed. “I wanted to let you know that Emrys’ numbers improved and he’s being discharged tomorrow.”

It was a strange thing to feel joy.  Especially when it had been so long since the last time you felt it.  So when his heart skipped and all the tension eased from his body, Rowan had no idea how to respond.

“That’s,” he finally managed, “that’s good to hear.”

“I tried calling Aelin, but I know she’s on shift,” Malakai said. “I know it would mean a lot to her if she knew sooner rather than later.  Would you mind going--”

“I can do that,” Rowan cut in.  Hell, there was nothing he’d want to do more. “I’ll head over there now, I was just finishing up one of the windows at the motel.”

There was a beat. “You were doing what now?”

Ah.  He’d forgotten he hadn’t actually told Malakai what he’d been doing the last two weeks.  Everyone just assumed he had and Rowan went along with it.

“I gotta go.”  Rowan hung up.  He didn’t really like talking to people anyways.

He made quick work of packing up and ensuring the motel was locked.  The ladder went around the far corner of the motel near the alleyway.  Despite some rambunctious teens and the usual problematic people in a small town, nothing was really in danger of getting stolen.  Plus, Rowan would see to it personally if anything was taken from Malakai and Emrys.

He closed up his tool box and settled it in the bed of his truck before driving the short few blocks to the diner.

The parking lot was nearly empty aside from Nox’s car around back.  Aelin usually walked to work whenever she could.  Only a dark truck was in the lot and Rowan recognized that as Mr. Aguayo’s.  He always swung by to purchase an order of steak and gravy for his pregnant wife.

Rowan parked near the back of the lot, not minding an extra walk.  It was still warm even as the summer days slowly drifted closer to fall.  From what he’d heard, it wasn’t until October that the weather drifted below seventy degrees.  And then usually the first snow came in November.  It’d been ages since Rowan had experienced snow and he wondered what it would be like…

Though, he’d be leaving soon enough so it didn’t really matter.

Mr. Aguayo was leaving just as Rowan walked up to the door.  They exchanged a quick greeting--Rowan really didn’t know the man very well aside from his small landscaping business.  And Mrs. Aguayo loved her steak cooked at a medium rare.  And she often craved Funyuns too.

Once inside the diner, Rowan almost felt like home.  The 50’s aesthetic was just as garish as the first day he’d been in there.  The red booths and checked floor looked a bit tired, but clean.  

“Welcome in! Oh, Rowan.” Aelin rounded the corner from the back of the restaurant, dressed in her usual shorts, t-shirt, and an apron that had seen better days.  Her blonde hair was in a long braid over one shoulder, frayed edges poking out after a day of running between tables. “You here to eat?”

“Have you checked your phone recently?” he asked instead, though he knew that if she’d seen any messages from Malakai she would have already heard the news and would have been telling him all about it.

She frowned, scrambling for the pockets of her apron. “What happened?  Is it Marion?”

“Wh-No, no,” Rowan said.  He wondered briefly why her mind went straight to Marion, but he hurried to cross the space between them to reassure her.  He rested a hand on her arm before he thought better of it. “It’s good news, I promise.”

She stared at him with wide, blue eyes.  There was apprehension there, but trust too.  It had been so long since anyone had looked at him like that, trusting and open, that Rowan found himself speechless.

“Emrys is being released from the hospital tomorrow.”  He didn’t want her hanging on anymore of his words waiting for bad news. “Malakai just called me.”

Aelin released a shaky breath before she laughed.  And then, in a turn of events that Rowan had not expected, she threw her arms around him in a hug.

The first thing Rowan noticed was the fact that Aelin smelled like jasmine and honey.  The second was her soft curves and vice like grip.  And then he thought about how long it had been since someone had hugged him.

No one on his squad cared for anything other than the roughhousing or smacks upside the head.  He hadn’t seen either of his cousins since before he enlisted and even then, the Whitethorn’s weren’t touchy-feely.  And that was it.  That was everyone he knew that he would even consider hugging.  And here was Aelin who had been through hell and back hugging him as though they were friends as though she actually liked him.

And he had no idea what to do.

Oh he knew the mechanics of a hug and how not to be a complete robot in his emotions.  Somewhat.  But this was Aelin.  Who in just a few short weeks had come to actually mean something to him even if he didn’t know how to define it.  And he was Rowan who had only ever been a complete and utter screw-up.  In everything.

“Sorry,” Aelin said, pulling back while Rowan just stood there. Her cheeks were flushed with a mix of embarrassment and residual excitement. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.  I wasn’t thinking.”

Rowan cleared his throat, nose still tingling with the scent of her. “It’s fine.  It’s good news.”

“Yeah, it is,” she agreed.  She was still smiling but it was jaded now after he’d gone and made things awkward by not hugging her back. She brushed an errant hair from her eyes and didn’t meet his eyes. “Really good news.  I know they’re both ready for him to be home.  And Luca will be so excited too.  He’s been a mess since it happened.”

“It’ll be good for him to come home,” Rowan said.  This was the type of news everyone deserved to receive.  The type of news Rowan wished he could have given more than he did.

“Emrys always had that way about him of just making a place home, you know?  And giving me so much patience when I didn’t deserve it.”  Aelin exhaled slowly before looking at him. “Thank-you for coming to tell me.”

“I was glad to,” he said.  Really, it was the best change of pace from having to acknowledge another death.  And if it meant seeing her smile like that and have a bit of joy in her life?  Rowan would do anything for her to keep smiling, he decided.

“I’ve been a mess all week with his new tests going through,” Aelin said as she finished pulling her phone out of her apron pocket. “And Meiri is not enjoying daycare this summer, plus Marion--”

She waved a hand in dismissal and pulled up Malakai’s number on her screen.  Rowan should have left then, a part of him was screaming too.  She still had an hour on her shift, he’d told her what he wanted to, and there was still daylight left to try and finish another window at the motel.  And if not that, Murtaugh at the hardware store donated paint to help give the motel a new look.  Rowan could start in on that.  And yet, he stayed.

“Malakai,” Aelin said when the other line picked up. “Yeah, no, Rowan just told me.  He’s coming home tomorrow?...Good, that’s so good to hear…I’ll make sure Chaol brings Luca home…You too.”

She hung up, a small smile still on her lips.

“We’re going to have a welcome home party,” she announced.  She nodded firmly to assert her words more fully. “With chocolate cake.”

There was nothing that sounded more like Aelin than chocolate cake and parties.  Rowan could easily imagine that Aelin would put an overwhelming amount of detail and care into such a venture.  For the first time in knowing her, she actually looked happy and at peace.  Which, from what Rowan had gathered about her, was a miracle in itself.

“You’re going to come, right?” Aelin asked.

Rowan hesitated.  As of late, he’d never been one for social gatherings.  Especially not with so many people he didn’t know.  Sure the last few weeks he’d gotten to know many of the people in town.  But it wasn’t the same.  Not when the second the motel was finished he’d be gone and in California.

Crowds especially had been difficult and he’d avoided them ever since coming back home.  Most of the time he knew what his triggers were and how to avoid them.  Being in a crowded room could easily overwhelm him.

“I--” Rowan was blissfully cut off when the door of the diner opened and Chaol walked in.

The sheriff was only partially dressed in his uniform--the tan pants that most law officers wore looked a little worse for wear as they were stained with dirt, grass, and dark splotches that were almost certainly blood.  Instead of the usual brown button-up, he wore a plain white t-shirt that was a mess of dirt and dried blood.

“What happened to you?” Aelin asked when she took Chaol in.  

“Bad day,” Chaol said.  He scowled and ran a hand through his short hair.  “Told Luca I’d pick up food.”

It looked decidedly worse than a bad day but Rowan had a feeling Aelin was already gearing up to chew Chaol out.

“You have blood on your shirt,” she said, resting her hands on her hips.  She fixed Chaol with a glare that rivaled even the worst that Rowan had received.

Chaol returned the deadpanned stare. “It’s fine.”

Rolling her eyes, Aelin turned to head back to the kitchen. “There’s a few extra sandwiches in the back, give me a minute and I’ll do up some fries.”

“Thank’s Aelin,” Chaol called after her.  She waved a hand overhead to acknowledge she’d heard.

It was only when she was gone that Chaol sighed and ran a hand over his face.  He eyed Rowan for a moment before speaking up.

“It was an accident involving a kid,” Chaol admitted lightly. “Ten-years old.  Nothing anyone could have done.  And you know she wouldn’t take that easily.”

It was the simplest explanation he could have given, but Rowan could already paint an exact picture of what had happened.  Especially with how run down Chaol appeared now.  Rowan wondered why Chaol would take it on himself to use a filter around Aelin, especially considering her no nonsense attitude and strong will to simply survive.  Though, he’d try not to judge the sheriff too harshly for his choice.

He’d lived through his fair share of accidents. Accidents where no matter what anyone did it just wasn’t enough.

Rowan knew exactly what that was like.

“I’m sorry,” he said honestly.  

He thought, briefly, about spoiling the news of Emrys’ hospital release, but decided that would best be left for Aelin to reveal.  Besides, he needed to leave.  He didn’t know where he needed to be just anywhere but here.

Instead, Rowan offered a single nod and headed back out of the diner.  “Have a good night.”

Chaol frowned in confusion, gesturing to the kitchen doorway where Aelin had gone. “Do you want--”

But Rowan was already gone, lost to the heat of the night and the memories of his past.

…

There was a man dying next to him.

Rowan didn’t know him.  Rowan didn’t want to know him.

All he knew was that just moments before this man had been trying to kill him.  And he knew that now, amid the darkening shadows of the night, he was trying to say one final round of prayers.  And he knew that the blood seeping into the dusty ground was innocent.  Innocent.  Innocent because what right did Rowan have to kill this man?  Because of a raid that might not amount to anything?  Because of a war that had been drawn on so long that violence had become the only answer for any question asked.

The man’s final breath rattled wetly.

Forcing the man from his mind, Rowan pulled his knife from the man's gut and returned to his rifle.  He had to wipe the blood from his fingers first, but that couldn’t be avoided.  He slowly wrapped his fingers around the grips and rested his finger on the trigger.  When a soft breeze blew, the wet blood caused a chill to snatch across his skin.

Through his sights he could see the streets of the village they were about to raid.  Maeve was insistent the Valg gang that had been terrorizing this side of the city would be moving weapons tonight.  Rowan didn’t know where exactly the intel had come from, only that it was from a reliable source.  He supposed the dead man beside him was evidence enough.

Hammel had barely developed a plan besides watching the trucks that rolled in and out of the city.  Even though it had been one week since his arrival, the new co-captain hardly seemed interested in doing his job.

“White Hawk?” Gavriel’s voice came over on the coms. “I saw signs of a struggle.  You good?”

Rowan clicked his com in acknowledgement.

“Where’s Talbot?” Gavriel demanded. “Shouldn’t he have your back?”

“Taking care of a few spooks, sir,” came Talbot’s quiet reply, “circling back now.”

Rowan hadn’t been concerned over the kid making sure they wouldn’t have any more surprises.  While Talbot was a little younger than him, he was eager and a hard worker.  Smart too.  He would trust him with his life and not just because he had to.

“All clear at the North and East entrances,” Rowan murmured in his coms.

At his words he watched as Hernandez led a group of her soldiers through the street to the building in question.  Rowan had seen at least three targets circle back to the building over the course of the night, each either carrying something or pushing a cart.  The thing was, this area was family dense.  Someone could simply be transporting food or extra blankets or wanting to move in the dark without being seen.  

Then why had the man beside him tried to attack him?

Rowan watched and listened as Hammel ordered the entrance.  Half of the squad took the front and Gavriel led the others through the back.  It would play out like it always did: orders to stand down, not to move, don’t resist, watch the west side.

It was how it should have gone.

“Front’s still clear,” Rowan said into his coms, “Redline, what’s your status?”

Talbot remained silent.

“Redline?” Rowan repeated.  He switched to the mainline for the rest of the squad just in case the network was fritzing. “Talbot, check in.”

There was a flicker to the north side of the building the squad was raiding.  Rowan turned his scope in that direction and adjusted his sights.

“Lionheart we’ve got a bogie to the north, Redline is unresponsive.”

“Roger that,” Gavriel responded. “Keep your eyes open, White Hawk.”

Rowan tried to ignore the feeling in his gut that grew with every passing second.  Something was wrong.  He didn’t know what it was, but it was damn near palpable.  Talbot never went radio silent.  Not like this.  Hell, he had to remind the kid to stop talking when they were on stakeouts.  But Talbot was still responsible.  He knew his duties and he did them well.  

For one, brief moment, Rowan considered leaving his post and looking for the kid.  But with Maeve and Hammel watching, he knew he couldn’t.  All he could do was hope the kid showed up. Maybe his radio disconnected and he just hadn’t noticed.  Or he didn’t charge it properly before the mission.  It had happened once before.  Or--

“White Hawk?” Talbot’s quiet voice crackled through Rowan’s radio.

Thank the fates. “Where the hell have you been, kid?  I’ve been--”

“Found something,” Talbot cut in.  His voice was still distorted with a bad connection, static fizzing and popping horribly. “Had to make sure,” a loud pop of static, “something’s wrong, can’t reach Lionheart.”

“Repeat that, Redline, you’re breaking up,” Rowan said.  He kept his sights trained on where he’d seen the flicker of movement, knowing Gavriel was keeping tabs on the other side of the homestead they were raiding.  As far as Rowan could tell there was just a flickering curtain he’d already cleared.  And a flash of silver but given this part of the village that shouldn’t be a concern.  He’d noticed something similar, but it flicked so irregularly that he decided it was nothing important.  Morse code wasn’t universal, but Rowan knew most codes various countries used and there was no discernible pattern that he could note.

“Rowan,” Talbot’s voice finally rang clear and strong. 

“Talbot--Danny,” Rowan sighed, relieved. “What happened?”

“Think I was spotted,” Talbot said, “I came back around to see where the bogie came from.  Saw something weird.  Rowan, we gotta pull out.”

“Hold on kid.”  Rowan did a sweep of the surrounding area but didn’t see anything.  “Where are you?”

“North.  There’s a few Kovac soldiers dragging boxes around,” Talbot said as the static returned. “Rowan…I think they’re smugglers not--”

Talbot was cut off by something crashing on his end followed by a shout in another language.

“Talbot?” Rowan shifted, drawing one hand to his commlink and pressing it into his ear, as if that would help with the connection. When no response came Rowan switched frequencies. “Lionheart, we’ve got a situation.  I think Redline found trouble.”

There was a pause and a round of muffled voices before Gavriel responded.

“Copy,” Gavriel finally replied. “We’ve got it under control here, I’ll send Fenrys--”

“There’s no time,” Rowan said, nerves spiking despite how hard he was working to control himself.

Rowan was up and moving before the captain finished speaking.  He made sure to stay low and keep his position as uncompromised as possible.  The hot air whipped around him digging sand between his skin and the straps of his goggles.  Sweat trickled down his back as he moved.  Even at night the heat was unbearable.  

The discomfort all but faded from Rowan’s mind as he ran down the dusty trail than wound down from his snipers nest.  Underbrush crunched beneath his feet and sand picked up in thick plumes.  Rowan hardly noticed.  In a matter of minutes he was down from the bluffs and in the near empty streets.  He hardly noticed the weight of his rifle in his hands as he ducked behind the wall of a small home.  There was nothing to indicate any potential danger.  

He slipped around the corner keeping his gun ready and eyes open.  Nothing.  Nothing but the wind picking up and the sound of scattering debris.

“Whitethorn, what are you doing?” Gavriel demanded through the comms.

Rowan ignored him as he sprinted down the road to the building he last saw Talbot clear.  He was closing in by the yards, slipping behind doorways or abandoned carts when he thought he saw something.  He didn’t dare try and contact Talbot in case his radio crackled, giving him away.

On cat's feet, Rowan darted the last stretch of road to where he’d last clocked Talbot.  Nothing seemed out of the ordinary--no extra footsteps, no strange sights.  All there was, was the faint, sweet scent of almonds.  But then it dissipated.  

Rowan was about to risk radioing Talbot just to see if he saw anything, or if he’d changed location when the first shot rang out.

The singular pop echoed through the otherwise silent night.

And Rowan felt his heart seize.

Time passed too slow as he dropped all pretense of stealth.  Another gunshot rang out as Rowan pushed himself harder through the streets.  He threw open the door of the house Talbot was checking.  Through his radio he heard Hammel and Gavriel both yelling at him.  The first to stand down the second to report.

Rowan focused only on his steps, his breathing, the tight turn around a corner and the body he found slumped against the wall.

Blood smeared in an aftershadow against the dark wood and already began trickling down in a slow, slow pull.

“Man down,” Rowan said into his radio, “medic needed.”

His voice was strangely calm as he said the words.  

His body too as he dropped down beside Talbot.  Already there was a pool of blood forming beneath the other man.  How, with all the layers Talbot was wearing, was that possible?  Rowan wouldn’t let himself think of the implications.

“Talbot,” he said, pressing his hands over the first entry wound he saw, hot blood wrapped around his fingers. “Talbot, look at me!”

With a groan and a cough, Talbot’s eyes fluttered open. “What’re y’doing, Whitethorn?”

“Applying pressure, you idiot,” Rowan said. “You’re gonna be fine, alrigh’?”

Talbot tried to laugh and Rowan pretended it wasn’t blood pooling at the corners of his mouth.

“Two gunshot wounds, gut ‘nd chest.  I’m not…I’m not--”

“Shut up,” Rowan growled, “I said you’re gonna be fine.”

His radio was going off with demands for answers, the eta of a medic, the call for a pull back.  Rowan ignored it all.  He should have been able to respond to some of the calls, should have multi-tasked, but all he could do was apply pressure to the wounds hemorrhaging blood and the way Talbot’s face quickly became ashen.

“Just talk to me, alright, kid?” he said. “What happened? We had the clear.”

Talbot’s head lolled to the side, eyes bleary as he tried to focus. “I saw him.”

“Who?  Who’d you see?”  Where was the medic?

“Thought my mind was playing tricks on me, he shouldn’t be here,” Talbot continued.  He weakly raised a hand to latch on to Rowan’s wrist. “Rowan--”

He had no idea what Talbot was going on about.  The slur of his words, the confusion--none of it was good.  Rowan pressed harder on the wounds, blood hot even as the beat of Talbot’s heart stuttered.

“We’re gonna get you fixed up,” Rowan said, “then you're gonna go home and see your mom, alright?  I’ll come visit, you can show me all there is to see.  Like that county fair, yeah?”

“It ain’t shit,” Talbot laughed, falling into a wet cough. Rowan held him down. “You should go to the mountains.  The mountains--”

Rowan’s radio crackled.  Medic on route.  They should have already been here.

“You gotta do something for me Rowan,” Talbot said, his voice growing too weak. “You gotta tell my family--”

“Tell them yourself.”

“Tell them, I’m so-sorry.”

Rowan stared down at his friend.  Slowly, the rest of the world came back.  The too hot air and metallic tang of blood.  The shouts in the distance.  The decrepit creak of wood where they sat.  There was noise and chaos in a world that just kept moving and Rowan…and Rowan…

“It’s gonna be fine,” Talbot whispered.

And then he was gone.

And Rowan had blood on his hands.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

tags still aren't working for me so if you'd reblog for more people to see this update, I'd really appreciate it. as always, i'm so grateful for ya'll <3

[manns-cape]

also low key paganism and high key lesbian stuff

the most promising thing about b coming to see me for a day when i was recently in the kavkaz, was that she would literally just listen to me about trees. like, as soon as you venture outside of nalchik, it's obvious that circassians do weird shit with trees. i'm too old to waste time in nalchik just because that's the most "civilized" part of kabarda and i'm trying to impress my gf, but i was also prepared to be disappointed by whatever she had to say about the trees.

i've brought a few prior girlfriends to kabarda so i was very much like, "please just don't ask me about the trees" because they'll ask me about the trees and literally no one responds in a positive way for reasons that i understand. i think most everyone is looking for a quick 3 minute explanation, where they can be like "okay, cool, now i 100% understand all this weird circassian bullshit about trees." as though our weird bullshit trees are like... learning the traffic signs in a new country?

when it's like, for each tree that is being pointed out, there's generally a whole history and there are family brands and they're living textbooks and "manifestors" ? it's not something that i can easily summarize and i get that it literally doesn't matter and this is all just kind of invented and stupid and very prehistoric for most people to still be worshipping (despite being "muslim") in the 21st century.

trees are the living, sacred texts of my culture. i *can't* give an answer about All The Trees in 20 seconds and make you suddenly understand my entire cultural heritage.

b wanted to hear ALL about the weird trees. she wasn't asking just because she wanted an instant understanding download. she liked hearing and learning about the trees. it was so fucking fun to be able to tell her about the history of each tree that she pointed out. she thought it was insane that i really could tell a lot of these trees apart and knew all about when and who they were planted by and what has happened at them all and it was just so fun that she was SO interested. like she was asking me questions faster than i could answer. it was so genuine.

it's insane how lucky i am to have her in my life. the cutest thing is whenever the kids start speaking adyghebze to me, her kinda picking up on the tone, and reacting at the right emotional moments even though she doesn't get the language at all lol. i love that she wants to be in those moments with us and doesn't just whine that my kids aren't always speaking german when she's around.

[satorisoup]

Lene saw your event was still open so I thought I could pass by? If that's ok with you sweets

My dear baker may I ask for a match up 🥧? With Haikyuu or Jujutsu Kaisen

So I consider myself an introvert and a shy person, my INTP is ISFJ and I think it kinda summarizes who I am. But well, more in depth, I am a very very quiet person at first, I have a horrible case of rbf so I'm not that approachable and I consider few people my real close friends.

But when I get more comfortable I love spending time with the people I hold dear to me, I'm kinda touch starved so hugs and the likes of it are ways I show I feel at ease with them. I might not keep in touch through text but I'm always available and I'm more prone to listen to people.

What else ah, I love artistic stuff: paintings, music, theater, etc so I like any type of activity that involves any type of art or like getting cultural knowledge (museums, concerts, art galleries, movies, dancing). I like every kind of food but my favorite are sweet and savory things, spicy too! And on my basic favorite things: the orange color, foxes, singing karaoke, dark coffee, sunsets

I yapped too much but I think I kinda shortened how I would describe myself and what I like (⁠^⁠～⁠^⁠;⁠)⁠ゞ

EEEK NAT MY LOVELY !! (*¯ ³¯*) of course it’s okay PLS !! <3 thank you soso much for all of these perfect details, and don’t worry !! the more the merrier teehee !! supa silly story, as i was doing your matchup i asked one of my lovely taste testers to see who they’d personally match you with based on your details, and without even knowing it was you who requested, she picked the same person i did !! it’s almost as if it’s true fate !! >//< WAHHH i hope you enjoy your matchup and im sending you soso many well wishes nat !! MWUUUUAH !! <3

your order : 1 pie ! 🥧

[pap03]

A Count for Noelle in Reference to Susie

So I've been involved with Deltarune for a while, hell this whole blog is basically dedicated to Noelle Holiday

Keeping that in mind then people can probably tell that I've been through my fair share of Noelle fan art

The question that came to me was, "Why is Susie so commonly in the corner of Noelle fan art?" (And I don't mean active Suselle, that's its own thing, I more mean Susie showing up just randomly, sometimes as a thought bubble) Which, some of you may be like "Okay. Well, she's rather openly got a crush on Susie may as well show it."

And to that, I counter that Asgore is still actively in love with Toriel, but Tori nearly never shows up as an Asgore thought bubble as he fawns (or well goats) over the thought, same goes with Alphys in reference to Undyne, it's rare, far rarer than Noelle arts with a random Susie.

Opinions on Suselle aside I, well, a disclaimer about myself I'm a bit of a nerd and figured there was more going on. Using Discord and talking to many friends of mine, all of them heavily remember Noelle's crush, for some of them it's the only thing they remember. (Which side point, is super disheartening because she's my favorite character in Deltarune and Suselle be damned she's more than her crush!)

Seeing this I had to get to the bottom of this, so I booted up Deltarune and decided to play through the whole game to figure out the question "How much of Noelle's character is dedicated to her Crush on Susie"

And well, I got some rather interesting results:

So admittedly this may look like a mess, so for all persons let me summarize what this is counting

Every tally is 1 single dialog box that belongs to Noelle, each category is admittedly self-explanatory

So, then my methodology for this count:

1. All of Noelle's possible dialog prompts were prompted for a single continuous playthrough of an All Recruits run, with no resets to change dialog

2. To be as fair as possible, any time I got to choose between dialog options with Noelle I always choose the most Susie absent option

3. Even in the few instances where Susie and Noelle actually talk to each other the dialog is still counted if Noelle uses Susie's name or refers to her in the second person

4. There's a legitimate chance my numbers may be a little off, maybe forgetting some lines because I'm not infallible, but I'm fairly certain that my numbers are pretty close regardless, feel free to repeat what I have done to confirm my results

5. Item text was not counted for my sanity, if that invalidates my numbers feel free to mention it

Now, to the results;

For Chapter 1, Noelle is admittedly not a main focus at all so her dialog is rather little, so any mention of Susie is gonna feel kinda inflated, regardless Noelle has 71 total textboxes, 17 of which are dedicated to Susie while the other 54 aren't

This comes to a percentage of 24% of Noelle's ch 1 dialog dedicated to Susie, roughly 1 in 4

For Chapter 2

Noelle has 408 total textboxes, 74 of those are dedicated to Susie, while 334 are not

Final percentage is 18% of Noelle's lines are about Susie; somewhere between 1 in 5 and 1 in 6

Adding it all up, for the playthrough of Deltarune I played, Noelle had 479 textboxes total with 91 of those dedicated to Susie, finalizing to 19% of Noelle's character for this run was her talking about Susie.

Now for some, I admit that seems awfully little to make a hubbub over but this is raw data of a run that I played of Deltarune designed to make Noelle's mentions of Susie as minimal as possible

And well, 19% isn't a number to scoff at either, as it means that one-fifth of Noelle is dedicated to Susie, so technically if you want to be character accurate all Noelle fan art should have Susie take up a fifth of the canvas. (Now obviously don't do that, it's just to get my point across)

Still, though the number seemed small to me, especially too small to be the only thing people remember about Noelle, then I realized that technically these numbers are inflated;

Not every person who plays Deltarune is going to go backward on a Main Route to get the nostalgia dialog,

Not every person is gonna get the "Oh Merry Krismas~!" Line out of Noelle,

Not everyone is gonna talk to all the Addisons,

Not everyone is gonna select "I will ride with you" on a Main Route

But...

Most people are gonna see Noelle ask about Susie first once she and Kris get alone

Most people are gonna see Susie and Ralsei eating Cotton Candy and Noelle's lines that come with

Most people are going to see Noelle take action to be able to stare at Susie's ass for a whole segment

Most people are going to see Mice and Balloons puzzle segment

Most people aren't gonna skip the Ferris Wheel cutscene on a first, or even subsequent playthroughs

Most people are gonna see Noelle "choke out" Berdly after he mentions his interest in Susie

Most people are gonna take note that Queen only mentions Susie to try and stir Noelle into action

And that's when it hit me, people remember Noelle for her crush on Susie because it's undeniably the most unmissable part of her character possibly even less missable than the fact her favorite holiday is Christmas

And that shows, while hard to tell I did take note of how much of the "No Susie" dialog is skippable, and it's a pretty decent chunk, possibly 60-70 textboxes worth, all the while even more "Not Susie" could easily then be converted to talking about Susie as well. For any math nerds still reading, I'm certain in claiming that you could push over 33% of Noelle's entire character could just be solely about Susie

And I hope to say now that Noelle is more than that I think everyone thinking to read this will acknowledge that she's smart, puts others over herself, sometimes to her detriment, is athletic, plays games, runs social blogs, and has a long, varied, and complex history, not just with Kris, but with all of Hometown, and for me at least I think having these numbers to work off of, even as just a minimum, may perhaps provide context as to why a lot of people didn't latch onto her like I or anyone still reading, did

This is not intended as a bash at Suselle, this recent playthrough has even given me a bit more appreciation for the two in a romantic context, even if I still believe that a rejection would provide more avenues than an acceptance

Still, the hope is that Toby perhaps recognizes that Noelle is oversaturated in reference to Susie and going forward with the next few chapters is willing to dedicate time to her other traits and relationships

Thanks for reading if you made it, I'll open up questions shortly after posting this and will be willing to answer if you ask

[unhingedlesbear]

Ok y'all, that was one of the most horrendous experiences I have had in recent days

Kinda a vent??? ig???

My day could have gone SO smoothly if not for that pesky fucking social anxiety/agoraphobia combo that loves to stop me functioning in society. It's literally so fucking shameful to admit this but today was the first time I ever took a bus alone because I was always terrified to go on public transport by myself. I got on after panicking the whole morning, and one of my worst fears came true. I couldn't find a place to sit so I just stood awkwardly. I couldn't even look around for seats because I was literally frozen and hyperventilating for the entire journey. Over taking a fucking BUS and some bitch was staring at me really judgmentally the whole time and then I started thinking about that too? Why was she staring at me? Am I not supposed to stand here? Am I breathing too loud? Do I look weird? Am I standing wrong? I don't fucking know but by the time I actually got into college I was drenched in my own sweat both from anxiety and heat.

Anyway the whole thing ended up being like 7 hours long which I wasn't at all prepared for. It was SO hot the whole day and of course being the socially anxious agoraphobic FUCK I am I was too scared to order any food so I just didn't. I hadn't eaten breakfast that morning either and every time I tried to drink I went back to being so dehydrated my tongue stuck to the inside of my mouth within literally 5 minutes. Also I haven't slept in 24 hours now so I was so fucking tired. They also made us carry around these heavy ass bags and the handles were sharp and dug into my hands. Anyway my phone died and I didn't know how to get the bus back because I literally have never even done that before because I fucking suck at functioning and so with 2% battery left in my phone I texted my sister asking her to come save me and then my phone died so I just put my whole faith trust and pixie dust into that text reaching her and her being available to do so. I stood for like a full hour outside the college, literally in so much pain because I'd been walking around sweating all day, I was so fucking hungry and dehydrated and tired and I literally almost fucking cried like a bitch.

Eventually she did come and she made fun of me the whole way home and I was also fading in and out on the bus from who the fuck knows but now I'm home oh my god.

So basically, summarized: I had a horrendous day and literally most of it could have been avoided if I wasn't so horrendously socially anxious that I'd push myself to physical limits instead of doing something so simple and mundane as taking a fucking bus, I am NOT built for this world holy shit.

[nekobami]

MAKE ME HAPPY (one shot, probably.)

woah look at these scary fonts wow easy man that's so scary

(Oh no, seems like there's a lot of text again,

better get used to it)

(Everhthing in green/pink is 99% sarcasm, please only take it 1% serious or just don't read those) Recently, I made a short study about how colors and forms affect our perceptions, y'know? And I wanted to try it, to see if I could pass the right atmosphere in an artwork. Now that it's done, I can ensure you, who's losing your time reading this, that I think I never faced too much stress in an artwork like I faced while doing this, BUT I also learned to do some things I thought I couldn't, like... Make the words do those "moves". It's not perfect, in fact, very far from being, but I'm actually happy with it

I get inspired to do this one when I saw some of official Pocket Mortys account tweets (oh man you STILL use TWITTER in 2023? Ok Boomer but ughhh you're so cringe)

I passed my entire gameplay in pocket Mortys in the campaign, and I never actually enthered the multiplayer mode

Then when I saw the dimensions I was just OMG WOOOOAH IM SO IMPRESSED WOW

Summarizing the context. Sort of like the shrimp can't actually get out of the void on its own. I would say void is kind of a pocket dimension and he's like a tamagochi. I don't know if yguys remember that little toys with an animal you could take care of. It's very old, but I still kinda like those. I can't explain why exactly he's there, but I'll solve it soon. About mentioning Rick, I guess he's probably the reason why the Shrimp can't left the void by his own. There's a lot of lore. HAHA, LORE LOOK THE LOT OF UNNECESSARY LORE IM DOING HAHAHAHA. I... I Guess I should see a therapist. I can... I can feel my sanity running through my fingers... Oh man I need more vacations really much

Oh I almost forgot to mention I made a redesign of Shrimp, now he's more light, easier to draw. and less cringy lonely emo