#constantly reminding myself I am not here to entertain

[fleaworld2]

trauma doesn't make you funny but it does give you an incentive to entertain/ form an audience-like relationship with your peers instead of pursuing genuine human connection in order to fufill that need for attention. trauma holds a gun to my head and says dance monkey dance.

[physalian]

How to Keep your Insecure Character from Becoming a “Nice Guy”

Or Nice Girl

The very last book I will have beta’d for the foreseeable future had a lot going for it, but one trait I absolutely despise in fictional characters is insecurity that makes it everybody else’s problem (I mean I hate it in people, too). By this I mean, the girlfriend who cannot tolerate her boyfriend having other friends who are girls, and whining to him about it. The partner who still wonders if their lover loves them, with zero evidence to the contrary, constantly forcing a tiring debate to sate these unfounded claims.

The thing is. Real people are like this.

But the other thing is: Fiction is meant to entertain.

It’s never the insecurity that I have issue with (I am not immune to it myself) it’s the impact that insecurity has on the story. If this protagonist had quietly kept it to herself but allowed the rest of the story to move forward, and dealt with it, if not alone, but in some progressive or even regressive manner, just not stagnant, it might’ve been okay.

So the scene that would have had me DNF immediately if this had been an organic read was these two adult middle-aged characters. Stalker plotline. The boyfriend is a has-been. The girlfriend, protagonist, has already had many a bout of insecure nonsense (oh he thinks I’m ugly as he’s railing me against my dresser) but the breaking point is when she’s sent an explicit photo of him when he was younger, mid-sex with some model.

And this lady is absolutely crushed. The revelation that… this is a person who has had sex before… is somehow shocking. Like, this character seemed to desire a 50-year-old virgin who is also an adonis. The whole time I’m reading her only care about her own feelings, when I’m thinking “do you not give a single fuck about how your boyfriend feels seeing himself so exposed, a picture floating around on the internet at anyone’s mercy? How he feels to be reminded of this moment and manipulated, too?”

I’m sure I’m in the vast minority who cannot stand these types of characters, but I would have quit the book right then and there. The book was also a who-dun-it, meaning any character could be a suspect, including the boyfriend. So we’re sitting here with multiple red herrings while the protagonist ignores all of them to whine about how the man’s unbridled and unflinching love and adoration for her just isn’t enough.

Bitch then be single if you can’t handle the knowledge that your 50-year-old celebrity boyfriend got around when he was younger. You knew what you were getting into. Which was my sticking point—it wasn’t like this was a shocking twist reveal. She knew from the moment they met that he was a bit of a player. It would be wholly different if he’d led her to believe that he’s some devout celibate saving himself for her.

Is this entertaining to other people? It’s not to me.

Separating it from the actual insecurity for a second: When you force your character to go around in circles in their arc and development, no matter what that arc and development is, you have stagnated the plot and each time they meet the same pitfall, they make the exact same choices that keep them in this loop.

None of this insecurity subplot amounted to anything. She eventually got over it after one arbitrary conversation but she didn’t change as a person, it didn’t do anything for the story, it was just there, probably an outlet for the author to exercise her own demons.

But this is a story and I am not entertained and your author insert is subject to the same scrutiny as everyone else.

So.

What *I think* are compelling ways to write insecure characters. Because I wrote one. My protagonist in ENNS.

You can and should absolutely write for yourself. Just always remember that if you only write for yourself, you can’t expect everyone else to like it, and you can’t get mad when they don’t. They are not you and they don’t have your tastes.

Have the insecurity be part of their arc with movement, either forward or backward, so they don’t become a static and boring character

Give them some evidence, any evidence, to support this insecurity. Maybe their love interest really does have an issue with some physical trait. Or in the past they really have been bullied or mocked for it. Anything so that this character’s fears have merit and can become tragic and relatable instead of unfounded and annoying.

Have this character take actions to augment this insecurity or cover it up, so that they’re not going “ugh I’m so ugly… but I’m not doing anything about it it’s just here”. Like wearing oversized clothes, keeping their hair in their face, speaking softly or not smiling with teeth—whatever it is, give them some agency in this fear. This is still a character trait and internal conflict, therefore it needs some actual conflict. Inaction is unappealing.

Balance out the negativity with something more compelling. They might be insecure but they’re really skilled at this one thing, or they’re really funny or kind or smart, so the audience has something else to root for instead of just a character who is negative and self-deprecating for the entire story.

Show that though experience proves this insecurity garnered them mistreatment, this current person they’re trying to impress really doesn’t care one bit about it, and don’t make it the other character’s problem. You can still have the protagonist wary and skeptical that the comments haven’t started, but let them do so quietly instead of cornering the friend/love interest with zero evidence to demand attention when said friend/love interest has done absolutely nothing wrong.

Like. If this was a murder mystery, and you had a character who, with zero proof, started suspecting Character E, and didn’t even look at A-D, despite all the mounting evidence that E is innocent, Protagonist is just fixating and projecting and stuck in their own head, would that be entertaining? You’re reading a murder mystery to live vicariously through the hero and use their smarts and observation skills to try and solve it yourself. You’re not here to watch them harass E until they admit to guilt for a crime they didn’t commit just to make it stop.

If that is a story you want to read, the summary would make that quite clear up front, or at least the first two chapters before you get invested. If I’m sold a murder mystery, by god, I’m going to expect a murder mystery.

Something I see a lot in inexperienced authors (or those who think “writing is easy, if it’s hard for you, you just suck”) is making characters too realistic. If you want to write a full-blown transcript of a conversation, false-starts and stutters and nonsensical grammar and half-finished points, be my guest, but fiction is supposed to be a little cleaned up. Details in fictional stories should be written with intent.

Not every single one. Sometimes a character’s eyes are green because I have too many with brown. It’s not that deep.

But bigger things, like a character’s personality and motives, should all serve the greater narrative. What does their insecurity say about them? How does it impact the choices they make and how they see the world? Is this something they grow out of or a trait that dooms them as a self-fulfilling prophecy?

The lesson doesn’t always have to be “you’re beautiful just the way you are”. It can be a nightmarish regression. Whatever it is, just tell a story with it, otherwise, why is it here?

[happysunnyyellowlove]

I have a fall tradition of rereading ‘The Thanksgiving Visitor’. The story and the author hold a huge, special place in my heart. This year, I found a recording of the work on YouTube with Mr. Capote performing. To say I was overjoyed is an understatement. While listening, I was yet again whisked away to my childhood and reminded of how people should help one another and treat folks with respect and have empathy for the circumstances of those around them. Do I behave as I should always? No, I don’t and I am sorry for it. I do have strong opinions about certain people and their shadiness and at times, I can’t help myself from commenting on said person’s questionable finances. I shall endeavor to ignore going forward.

That said, there are people in this fandom - and you know who you are - who take delight and joy in constantly tearing down Sam (and Caitriona at times). The man can do nothing to please you. Even when he is contributing to charity, working hard on his projects, being quite and spending time with his family, not one good thing he does gets any credit from some here. They take even the good and try to twist and distort it to fit their narrative. And when Sam is quiet, one segment of this crazy “fandom” creates their own entertainment with “Silly Sunday Sam Sightings” or some such rubbish.

IT’S CRUEL. And not funny, by the way. Grown women creating snark and hate at the expense of another just for their own kicks and giggles. True, Sam will most likely never see the ridiculousness, but why??? Are you that bored with your own lives, you spend what time you have on this earth continually tearing down a man you truly do not know? Do better citizens of Mordor.

Take a walk, plant a flower, make a cake, better yet, read Mr. Capote. Do better.

[sapphodelia]

my coworkers (male and female) talking about how they think males are superior and are the only ones who should be in office make me so relieved i'm gay. like i could not imagine thinking i myself am some lower subhuman lifeform and that my partners are all intrinsically smarter and more rational than i am lol... i just feel pity for the women and happy that the shit the dudes say doesn't phase me because i don't view them as people anyway. feel the same way towards """radfems""" who wax poetic about how men are trash and incomplete females yet date them anyway. pitiful i tells ya

what sucks though about learning about feminism and doing the work to build class consciousness is that it's instinctive to want to defend those women from the men they oh so worship and put on pedestals. like i literally don't believe agents of the (hetero)patriarchy are deserving of any liberation because they're sex traitors and in the way of revolution but i still inevitably stand up for them and defend them anyway. i wish i didn't but i can't stop myself. what about a woman who says she doesn't think women are capable of rationality and leadership positions is forgivable? arguably nothing. like politically this woman is straight up my enemy - she loves men and could gaf less about other women in application - yet i still constantly forgive her. and i don't even want to be the bigger person, i think all lesbians have done enough forgiving straight/bisexual women for hundreds of collective lifetimes, but here i am.

it's probably because i figure these women have worse issues than me. i'm never going to have to worry in any real, tangible sense about domestic violence from a partner, or pregnancy and not having agency over my own body, or dating or even entertaining someone missing a piece of their chromosomes. like.

and that just reminds me of how i was wondering before what lesbians could do about the heteropatriarchy. honestly it's such a complicated situation i don't even know... no other oppression is this layered and convoluted. it's like these people who are like us in almost every way are still happy to enslave us and themselves for the Other. what the fk is even the first step in this equation aside from eliminating the Other (which is impractical)??

[waywardstation]

Bad Habits

[SEQUEL TO LEARNED BEHAVIOR] Akari thinks it’s funny that she’s essentially trained Lady Sneasler’s kits to tickle Ingo for food. It starts to lose its humor when it progresses to less playful methods, though.

It's been a while since I got a fic out, hasn't it? Long Covid's taken it's toll on my ability to focus and organize, and sadly write, but I still enjoy doing it just as much as before!! It just takes a little longer to pull things together for now ^^; I wrote this after my friends speculated on a possible sequel to the previous minutes fic I wrote.

OR read here on AO3!

Enjoy!

————

“Ah-hAh! Powder!”

Ingo jumped up from the dojo’s bench with an uncharacteristically-high shout, jerking as if he had been tasered in the back; Powder inadvertently came tumbling out of his coat with the movement, and sprawled onto the ground. The runt seemed unbothered by the jostling; she leapt up and scrambled under her favorite hiding place, the battlefield’s wooden platform, with a plump bean pod between her teeth. 

“Good job, Powder!” A fit of giggling from the bench behind him gave away who had orchestrated this, having once again slipped a bean pod into his coat. But this incident had repeated itself enough times by now that Ingo didn’t even need the hint anymore - how did she keep managing to sneak them in?

“I am… aware you find these situations humorous, Miss Akari,” Ingo fixed his crooked cap and smoothed his coat back down, his face flushing somewhat - he was not fond of such an embarrassing weakness of his constantly being exploited. And Akari’s constant incitement encouraged them to start tickling with intent now, rather than doing so incidentally while searching for food. “But I am afraid I must repeat myself; I really must implore you to stop going down these tracks. Do not positively reinforce this, please.”

“Oh come on Ingo, it’s funny!”  Akari popped open a pod and munched on one of the beans, brushing it off. His tone sounded a little annoyed or exasperated if she was being honest, but he always got a little defensive after a surprise tickle attack. “They’re just playing with you a little! I mean, it’s not like they’re hurting you or anything, right?”

Ingo remained stern, his expression not one of amusement; it appeared as if he viewed tickling to be just as unpleasant as getting hurt. 

“While that is technically true at the moment, I must remind you that they are steadily growing bigger.” He glanced over at Powder momentarily. “This continued behavior is unacceptable, not only because it is inapplicable for wilderness foraging and survival, but because it can also become dangerous for myself, and possibly even other people, as their venomous claws develop.”

The last point especially seemed to put a stop to Akari’s antics; with a look of contemplation, she seemed to consider his words. She was well aware the kits were growing - she got to witness the process almost every day - but she simply had not considered the long-term consequences.

The teen glanced over at Powder beneath the platform, still tearing at her prize with her claws. She knew it would eventually happen, but it was still hard to imagine they wouldn’t always be that size, and of their more subdued temperament.

Ingo’s stern reaction made more sense now.

“I didn’t really think about that.”  Akari turned the empty pod around in her fingers. “Yeah, I guess I should stop then. Sorry.”

But by then the damage had already been done, even if Akari herself did stop slipping beans and berries into his coat; the next time Ingo found himself under attack by the kits about a week later, it was entirely unprompted by the teen.

“We’re back!” Akari announced as she entered the training grounds, a basket held securely in her grip, and Zisu and Rei following behind her. Ingo looked over, away from all the sneasel kits he had been entertaining for most of the afternoon - the group had asked him to bring all the sneaslets to work today, so they could see how much they’d grown. The answer was… noticeably.

At the trio’s arrival, all nine kits scrambled towards them in a hurry to greet them, yowling as if they had been separated for thirty years, not thirty minutes. Rei and Zisu happily knelt down to pet them all, but Akari stepped around the tiny sneasels to approach Ingo.

“I take it you all had a pleasant lunch?” The warden questioned, seeming relieved to get a short break from the kits as he watched them swarm his companions. Though, Akari caught the quick glance he threw at the basket in her hands. 

“Yeah, it would have been nicer if you had joined us though.”

“I would have if I could.” Ingo’s frown pulled at the mere thought of attempting to bring nine sneasels along, or leaving them unattended at the training grounds to join her, Zisu, and Rei at The Wallflower.

Another glance at the basket. Akari mistook his trepidation for interest.

“I know, I know,” she brushed it off, before holding up the basket. “That’s why we brought you something back!”

Ingo’s expression immediately gave way to worry; it was exactly what he dreaded. “Miss Akari, you really didn’t need to-”

“-No, Zisu insisted!” The teen had expected him to resist. “We know you said you’d be fine, but you’ve been here all day. So we went to Floaro’s, which is why it took so long-”

Akari opened the basket and rooted around inside. She pulled out a Jubilife Muffin, and held it out to him. “-But we got one of these for you!”

Akari made the mistake of presenting it for all of the sneasel kits to see as well. Behind her, Ingo could see a few kits turn their heads towards her, forgetting all about Rei and Zisu in a second. His gratitude was pushed down deeper under another layer of alarm.

“Miss Akari, I appreciate the gesture, but I really couldn’t,” An attempt to prevent the inevitable.

“Really? He added oran berries to these ones, and it’s really good!” She tried to hold the muffin out, in hopes he’d take it.

Ingo barely processed her sentence. His gaze was locked past Akari’s shoulder. Four kits’ eyes were now focused intently on her back, along with Rei and Zisu’s own curious looks going between her and said kits.

“Perhaps later, I will try it,” The warden held his hands up, clearly not accepting the muffin. He wanted her to just put it back in the basket.

Another glance over her shoulder. Akari now had the attention of all nine sneasles. They stalked, approaching her carefully with a few more calculated steps. 

“Fine, but it’s not as good when it’s cold,” Akari shrugged, seeming to finally accept his rejection. But by then, it was too late - all nine kits finally took off, racing towards her. 

They were actually going to attack Akari.

Her hand still holding the muffin out, Ingo grabbed it and held it for the sneasels to see their original target no longer had what they desired. The horde immediately diverted from their route. They rushed around a surprised Akari, pouncing to instead latch onto Ingo’s pantlegs.

“Mochi, Duchess! Nettle! No-!” Ingo attempted to correct all the eager kits before they could climb any further up his legs. But his stern voice did nothing to stop the sneasels as they continued to knock into him and pile up.

Together, the tiny sneaslets felled their caretaker. With combined tugging on the pant legs and the collective weight of nine sneasels putting him off balance, Ingo was pulled backwards onto the ground. The moment of vulnerability cost him; the sneasel pile swarmed on top of him in seconds, like a flock of hungry staraptor on a single unfortunate cherubi. 

The kits got to work immediately; it only took seconds for Ingo’s demands to crumble into hysterics. 

“Hey, hEy-! Gh- nOho!” Ingo’s awkwardly-stifled bouts of laughter overtook any attempt to put authority in his voice as the group of sneaslets ganged up on him, pestering his most ticklish spots in hopes that he’d let go of his food. Nudging muzzles, nibbling teeth, and scritching claws - by this point, the kits had learned quite well how to quickly wear Ingo down. It took considerable effort for him not to roll over defensively, his fear of crushing them barely overpowering his desperate reflexes to protect himself. “Please! C-ceASe-! Before one of you- gaH!”

Before anyone could even move to help him, Ingo cut himself off with a sudden exclamation that sounded genuinely surprised, and not in a good way. The horde of sneasels abandoned him as quickly as they had pounced on him, leaving him behind to lie on the ground in front of a stunned Akari.

It only took a moment to become apparent why; their efforts had quickly been rewarded. Balm had managed to pry the muffin from Ingo’s weakened grip and had whipped around to bolt off with his prize as fast as he could, greedy as ever. The siblings’ cooperation instantly dissolved, and the rest of them raced after him in an attempt to steal the prize away, yowling excitedly.

Ingo quickly sat up to defend himself in case another attack would be imminent. But when it was clear the sneasels were too focused on chasing each other, he let out a sigh of relief and reached over to situate his hat back on his head; it had been knocked off in the squabble.

Akari stood there, trying to process what had just happened. Any amusement she normally would have felt gave way to confusion from being caught off guard, then slight concern as she realized Ingo was focused on his hand that previously held the muffin. “…Are you ok?”

“I am alright, but Balm appears to have bitten me… quite hard.” Genuine surprise in his voice overtaking any irritation Akari was expecting, Ingo inspected the soft part of his palm, now peppered with tiny red tooth marks. A few clearly had broken the skin, where new droplets of red began to spring up across his red-smeared palm.

“Here, here,” Akari hastily reached into her satchel for a few scraps of bandaging, handing it to him. The sight of Ingo’s blood dripping down his hand sent a sudden pang of guilt through her. And then that sent another pang when she realized it took Ingo getting hurt to feel this bad about it. “They’ve bitten you before?” 

“Yes. However, they have never drawn blood like this.” Ingo wrapped his hand securely, making sure the bandages covered every puncture.

Akari didn't know what to say to that. She glanced back over at the sneasel kits, now roughhousing over mere crumbs by the training ground’s fence, as Zisu helped Ingo back to his feet.

If the kits had ever used their teeth, they always nibbled on him gently enough to just tickle him. They never bit him hard enough to draw blood. And if any kit was going to bite that hard, Akari had expected it to be excitable Chomp, not mild-mannered Balm.

This wasn’t as playful as it used to be. 

Ingo’s warning of the kits’ development and all the problems that would come with it popped up into her mind again. Was this happening every time he had any kind of food out around them anymore? Ingo hadn’t wanted to accept the muffin from her at first; was it because he knew this would happen? She had stopped slipping food into Ingo’s coat to encourage them, but had she done it to the point of teaching them to do it independently?

…Perhaps, Akari realized, Ingo’s reason for skipping lunch today had extended further than simply wanting to babysit the kits attentively.

————

Ingo was not at the training grounds. He had been expected there early that morning, but he never showed up.

Akari only waited a total of fifteen minutes before telling Zisu she’d make sure he was ok, and had set out to go look for him. He had promised her an early-morning battle the day before, and he always made a point to follow through with his promises. If he didn’t show up, that meant he either came down with a debilitating illness overnight, he had gotten seriously injured on the way to Jubilife, or the Miss Fortune Sisters had decided to try and roadside rob him… again.

All three were situations he’d need help with though if he still was yet to show up, so Akari had set out immediately, backtracking on his usual route to Jubilife from the highlands. 

It had both relieved and worried her that she had made it all the way to the base of Mount Coronet without finding a trace of him. Where was he?

Surely he wasn’t still in Lady Sneasler’s den; it was almost noon by now. But, she had to be thorough. So Akari trekked up the mountainside, taking care to make sure no predatory pokemon were watching her as she deviated from the worn trails, and climbed up the cliffside to the entrance of Lady Sneasler’s den.

“Ingo?” She called out tentatively into the cavern. “Are you in here?”

There was no response.

But… she heard something quiet inside.

Were those the kits she heard? Akari shuffled a bit further in.

Squinting hard as her eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, Akari bore witness to a massacre.

Nesting material was sifted about in uneven heaps, as if there had been a struggle. A multitude of shining eyes stared wide in the darkness, catching the dull light from outside as several faces kept focus on her. A motionless foot could barely be made out in the dimness underneath them, sticking out of a mass of indistinguishable, furry forms. The familiar black shoe that was expected to cover it was nowhere to be found amongst the site, most likely lost in the nesting layers.

Something had certainly happened here.

“Ingo?” Akari repeated with both a bit more alarm and certainty this time. The small forms with bright eyes collectively went stiff in the darkness, and a muffled groan sluggishly responded. The form beneath the kits moved ever so slightly.

“…Mmmiss Akari..?” The familiar voice slurred, as if half awake from a fever-induced sleep.

A short yet incredibly heavy stretch of silence, as Akari’s mind stalled on what to do. 

Was he hurt? How bad was it? Why wasn’t Lady Sneasler here? Did a wild Pokémon try to get into the den, and did it maul Ingo in his efforts to protect the kits? She still couldn’t see all that well, what if he was bleeding out, or-?

One of the many pairs of bright eyes flickered out of view as one of the indiscernible kits lost interest in Akari and lowered their head, presumably back towards Ingo. A second later, a subdued jolt of almost-laughter was heard, and the foot sticking out of the sneasel pile jerked suddenly.

“Taro, no-”

…Oh. 

Akari knew what had happened now. She let out a sigh of relief as Ingo continued to chuckle listlessly into the nesting material.

“…S-some assistance, please-“ 

————

Ingo bit into the pecha berry, wiping away the juice with the back of his hand (which still felt quite sluggish and heavy) as he chewed thoroughly. 

At least he could somewhat feel it on his tongue now, and his fingers were beginning to tingle. That was a good thing; it meant the berry was finally starting to lessen the venom’s numbing effects.

Ingo sighed through his nose as he chewed, and rested his head back against the cavern wall; with stiff nerves and muscles, it still took a lot of effort to hold his head up at this point. 

He remained there like that for a few moments, until he became aware something had entered the den. A lethargic glance over, and he met eyes with Akari as she approached to sit down next to him. 

She had returned from taking all of the kits outside the den, both to wait with them for their mother to return and hear what had happened, and to give Ingo some time to eat his pecha berries in peace, without fear of them attacking him for it.

“Um, Lady Sneasler just got back.” She reported after a moment of silence. “I told her what happened. She’s scolding all the kits right now.”

Ingo could hear her yowling from outside, muffled by the cavern walls. The tone was very upset, even more so than he had expected, if he was honest.

“So they just… attacked you while she was out hunting?” The teen’s eyes flitted away from the cavern entrance back to Ingo, who’s own eyes were still closed. With his gaze off of her, she freely observed the tiny scratches peppered around his skin. They were tinged purple around the edges, faded compared to earlier but still noticeable. 

“You’re on the right track.” Ingo paused eating to respond. “I believe they had simply become impatient for Lady Sneasler to return with breakfast, and thought they could instead awaken and pester food out of me as they always do, despite carrying none myself. Yet when I unsurprisingly relented nothing, they grew more aggressive with their efforts, until, well…”

Ingo trailed off. He didn’t have to say anything else, Akari knew the rest of it. He bit back into his berry, static still on his tongue.

“Ugh,” the teen leaned forward, hugging her knees. “Look Ingo, I feel really bad about all this. Like, really, really bad. I’m sorry, they wouldn’t be doing this to you if I hadn’t kept encouraging it.” 

Ingo didn’t exactly jump at the chance to defend her as he chewed on his pecha; while he usually took care not to speak with his mouth full, she had a feeling he was more so agreeing with her, but saving face by not voicing it.

And she couldn’t blame him, he had told her to stop more than once. 

“…I believe things simply derailed slightly more than you intended.” He summed up instead.

She would accept that. “Yeah, they did.”

Ingo swallowed down the last of his pecha berry and relaxed into the nesting materials, now just waiting for the pecha to continue doing its job. “But, this cannot continue; I must set them back on the right track. As Lady Sneasler’s caretaker, I am also responsible for the development of her young, and their success will reflect my abilities as a warden. They cannot sustain themselves on this method in the wilderness. And if anyone is harmed by this behavior, I will be at fault.”

Akari did not really know what to say to that. “So, um, do you know how to get them to stop doing this?”

It felt incredibly awkward - if not humbling - asking if he knew how to essentially clean up her mess.

Ingo simply shook his head. “I will be honest; a problem has developed that I am unsure how to surpass. This is Lady Sneasler’s first litter that she’s had under my care, and I admit that raising Pokémon entirely from adolescence is a different track from battling alongside them, the latter of which I can only faintly recall explicit experiences with. And they ignore any of my attempts to dissuade them. I am… not entirely sure how to conduct corrections to this specific behavior.”

Akari didn’t quite know either. It had progressed past the point of controlled incidents where it would only happen when she initiated it with a well-placed berry or bean pod, and developed into relentless attacks when food wasn’t even present, but simply desired.

She had no idea how to properly correct something as specific as this. But she felt obligated to at least try and figure it out. She put Ingo in this position, and felt he was being incredibly forgiving by not berating her for doing such a thing in the first place.

Though maybe, he suspected she was already doing that to herself enough. 

“Well, look. I kind of did this to you. I’m the one that taught them it was ok to attack people for food.” Akari fiddled with the end of her scarf. “So it’d only be right for me to help, uh, un-teach them. I know Irida’s coming next week to check on them all, and I don’t want to hear you got in trouble because they all attacked her or something.”

The mental image of that disaster seemed to make Ingo chuckle a little bit. She knew he was still under the effects of the poison then, because normally he wouldn’t have considered something like that humorous enough to laugh at.

“The tracks to their desired destination may be long, but help may shorten it. Your assistance in their correctional training would be greatly appreciated,” He finally responded to her offer. His general acceptance eased her guilt somewhat.

“Great. Tomorrow then, we start?” Today would be better, but she didn’t think Ingo would be in any state to start that today.

“Tomorrow fits my schedule just fine.”

[celestiall0tus]

Lady and the Scoundrel - Chapter 14 - Path to Redemption

Beginning || Previous

            Chloe headed out of class with Barkk beside her. They walked outside while Barkk prattled on. Chloe ignored Barkk while she zoned in and out. A few weeks had passed since the holiday break ended. Everything had gone back to normal, or a relative normal. The Scoundrel, Felix, hadn’t been causing trouble like he was. She was back in school, living on campus. The other students still swarmed Barkk in attempts to be her friend. She had noticed a few realized her existence, but she didn’t feel like entertaining them.

            Chloe looked away as she fell in step behind Barkk. Before the holiday, she wanted nothing but to be noticed. She wanted to prove she was better, but was she really? Had she changed at all? Things felt different, but was it enough? Was she worthy of being a hero when she failed to stop the Scoundrel? Was she worthy of friends after all the heartache she’s caused? Was she worthy of a family when her blood family never loved her?

            Chloe gasped when Barkk took her hand and led her through the campus grounds back to their dorm. Chloe tried to get a protest out, but Barkk ignored her until they were away from prying eyes.

            “Chloe, we need to talk,” Barkk said.

            “About what? There’s nothing to talk about.”

            “Chloe, I know better. I am empathic just like Velze. I can feel your heart troubled. Are you still focused on what happened with Felix?”

            “Well, of course! I just… I thought I could be a hero. I thought I was finally doing right, but then all that. I just… I don’t know. I just… I said a lot of things. Things I never wanted to tell him. Things I never wanted to hear. Things I don’t think I was ready to fully face.”

            “Is that why you’ve given up on making friends?”

            “No. Yes? Maybe.”

            “Talk to me, Chloe. I’m here.”

            “You were there. You heard everything.”

            “Maybe so, but I can’t read your thoughts or discern the source of your emotions. I’ll only know if you tell me.”

            Chloe sighed. “I know I’ve admitted to all that I’ve failed at. I know I’ve seen the errors, but it all hit when I looked at myself in the mirror. When I saw the girl for what she was. The little monster that ruined everything. The abomination that was so full of herself, blinded by false power that she destroyed everything precious to her. I even tried to use Felix, Scoundrel, whatever for my own gains as I had with so many others. Everything always started and ended with me.”

            “You are right. You made mistakes, as your kind usually does. You’re not perfect. None of you are, but that doesn’t change the fact you are just as worthy of a second chance as anyone else. And unlike most, you took the chance. You made the effort to change. Even if no one else accepts it, sees you only for your past, nothing will change the truth.”

            “It doesn’t feel like that. Not when I’m reminded of my past constantly.”

            “True, but how does it make you feel to remember all that?”

            “Sad… and angry. Really angry.”

            “Go on.”

            “I was a fool. I used and manipulated people I thought were below me to feel better about myself. It made me feel powerful and good in a twisted sense. I reveled in it until my rule was challenged and undermined. Even when I hit rock bottom before and was given a chance to prove myself, I messed that up too. I doubled down when I should have stopped and realized the truth, but I didn’t.”

            Barkk remained silent and listened.

            “Even now, in London, I’m repeating old habits. I may not be manipulating people, but I’m using them. I’m taking advantage of their despair and helplessness to make myself feel and look better. Even with those people calling me a hero, it was never enough. I had to go for more, but I… I messed up with that. Felix was enamored at the sight of me. He wanted me like I feared. And then me hitting him with that arrow, him looking at me, and being nice to me, it just… it was wrong. I just feel… I just feel like I’m doing the same thing I did in Paris. Like all this has been a waste of time and I haven’t changed at all. That I’m still the mean old Chloe I was in Paris.”

            Barkk opened her mouth when a knock came at the door. She got up and opened it. Her pigtails lifted in surprise to see Felix with a tall boy with tan skin and short black hair. She pulled her lips back in a snarl and growled.

            “What are you doing here, Plagg? I told you this is my territory.”

            Plagg waved his hand dismissing as he pushed past Barkk. “Relax. I won’t be long. Besides, I don’t want to linger somewhere that reeks of love.”

            “Enough, Plagg. Chloe, I came to speak with you,” Felix said.

            “Well, I’ve got nothing to say to you,” Chloe retorted.

            “Then just listen. Look, for what little it’s worth, I’m sorry for upsetting you. I realized I might have pushed too far and brought back unpleasant memories and trauma. I just… I was angry. I hoped for a hot warrior girlfriend, but she turned out to be you.”

            Chloe glared at Felix.

            “Right, sorry. I’m sorry I brought all that up when I lashed out. I hadn’t realized what you were going through, and might have dismissed it whenever Memoria brought it up. Regardless, if you would like, we can keep up the routine we had been. You know, when I would cause random trouble and you chase me off.”

            “I don’t want that. I don’t even know what I want anymore.”

            “I thought you wanted to change?”

            “I did, do, but have I really changed? Especially when it seems like I’m repeating the same habits.”

            “Hard to say if you are repeating, but I can say you’ve changed. You’re nothing like the snot-nosed, stuck up, annoying, bossy little bitch I had to suffer because Adrien liked you for some reason.”

            Chloe rolled her eyes. “You’re just saying that to be nice.”

            Felix laughed. “When have I ever done that? Especially for you.”

            “Fine, so what if I’ve changed. What’s the point if people won’t accept it like you? I mean, would you even be here and be your version of nice if I hadn’t shot you with that arrow and you looked at me?”

            Felix shrugged. “Hard to say. I admit I was confused by the effects of that arrow, and maybe I wouldn’t be, but I’m glad I was hit and saw you. If not for it, I wouldn’t see someone who understands.”

            Chloe furrowed her brows. “What do you mean?”

            “To make a long story short, I saw myself in you after getting hit. I realized where your pain comes from and the cause of it. Our circumstances are very different, but that doesn’t make the pain we feel any less real. We both lashed out. We both hurt people. We still may, but because we’re still damaged. And we may never fully heal, but we can learn to live with what happened and become more than our pasts.”

            “We?” Chloe echoed.

            “I know I didn’t stutter. I never thought change possible for myself until I saw it in you. It helped me to see what more I could be through you.”

            “Does this mean you’ll stop assisting in heists?”

            “Hey, I just said I understand. I didn’t say I was going to give all that up.”

            “Then why talk like you’re going to change?”

            “Because change doesn’t just mean being a goody-two shoes. I’ll leave that for those with a real moral compass. After all, change and redemption means something different for everyone. So, how would you like to talk this path together and see where we end up?”

            “If you keep causing trouble, I will step in to stop you,” Chloe warned.

            Felix grinned and held out a hand. “I would hope for nothing less. How about it then? Shall we see where this road takes us, together?”

            Chloe hesitated. She looked at Barkk, who gave an enthusiastic nod. She sighed and took Felix’s hand.

            “Alright. I’d rather better company, but it’ll be good to walk this path with someone like me,” Chloe said.

            “Likewise. Until we get that, here’s to putting the past behind us.”

            “And for a brighter future.”

Patreon || Discord || Ko-Fi

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 9/5/2023

moving closer to your best friend means hanging out in big groups a lot of the time. while this is theoretically good for mental health or whatever, in practice i overextended myself this weekend and am going to wake up tomorrow with the mental equivalent of a sore lower back

listening (2x bonus)

very fond of måneskin's new single HONEY (ARE U COMING?). sonically different from their other stuff, lyrics and tone-wise another incredible sad banger! spotify

my sister viewed the film Party Girl (1995, dir. von Scherler Mayer) last week at a party in philly and sent me this song featured in the film with no further explanation. Double Cross by First Choice (a Larry Levan remix) has what i want to call bollywood strings, a flute, and the funkiest bassline backing up some really classic disco vocals. First Choice were a group out of philly, which no one at the party knew at the time, and this blog calls this specific remix "dancefloor soul" which is probably as good a descriptor as any. i have had it on loop for a solid week. lyrics include

Love stealing, double dealing, two-timing lowdown son of a gun

which is just so much fucking fun to sing in the car. spotify

-

reading (2x bonus here also)

i read the mandalorian comics in between volumes of berserk, which feels a bit like saying i took a break from watching the evil dead franchise to watch some cocomelon.

the mandalorian comics are a remarkably uninspired nearly shot by shot breakdown of the episodes. not in the way most film/tv comics are, where they’re very clearly traced screencaps, but screenshots redrawn. this would be interesting if the artist was not contractually obliged to the very flat marvel comics style. i am constantly reminded of how the mandalorian is simply…not very good. it’s entertaining as a spectacle of television to watch, but there are not a lot of fun ideas in there. something that made me fucking scream with laughter are these panels of baby yoda

pápá, your son is So high

back to the other series with a dark haired, roaming, grouchy, reserved man on a mission. unfortunately i don't have a lot of berserk thoughts just yet, i am waiting on vol 4 to come off my library holds and my brain is still digesting it. anyway i think not wanting random "friendly" embraces from strangers is a very reasonable thing for guts to dislike and i truly do not understand why ppl in-universe get so fucking offended. unfortunately reading these late at night did lead to an unpleasant sleep experience.

bitches love a fucked up interior space that can't ever actually exist (it's me i'm bitches)

not to be all therapeutic but im trying to be Curious About and Gently Interrogate why i get a real bee in my bonnet once a year to read some horror comics/manga when i am big squeamish baby about film depictions of those things. i think mostly bc comics gore is so much more stylized than some of the very effective practical and cgi effects? and crucially nothing is actually like writhing around on screen it’s a still image? does anyone else’s brain have a much easier time handling still images over moving images of gore? much to consider

as with many other things, me reading berserk is indirectly @dying-suffering-french-stalkers ' fault

-

watching

i have viewed the first four episodes of Fire Force, the urban fantasy mercenary firefighter anime and do not think i will be continuing. while i have a great many questions about the worldbuilding (gravitational anomalies?? genetic predisposition to spontaneous human combustion?? solar god nuns??) it has a dead mom plot, which i am allergic to. this is also a 7.5-8 on the Ass part of the Weeb Ass Shit scale, and has a lot more casual assault than i try to encounter in anime. it's by the soul eater guy, remember the level of Stuff going on in soul eater? a little bit more ramped up groping and stuff that makes me say out loud "wow i don't like this" than soul eater.

the animation re: aforementioned fire is really top notch tho. visually complex and interesting television program.

how i found this: me and my best friend and my best friend's husband morosely poking around the anime section on hulu, looking for something to fill the spy x family void. this ain't it tho

-

playing

i have no fun genshin tidbits to share bc i am grinding talent mats while catching up with the podcast episodes of the road to partizan and i don’t have much to say about the not-fun parts of gachas. why am i playing something if it’s not inherently fun? great fucking question

-

making (3rd 2x bonus)

very uninspired (derivative, even) abbreviated sofrito thing over rice. with heavy application of Worcestershire sauce it was fine. no pics

also i finally bought a couch bc salvation army had 50% off everything for Labor Day. this is a question of ethics vs money i have decided for myself, and encourage you, the reader, to go off and quietly make your own philosophical choices without explaining them to me in detail.

it will be arriving on friday bc that is when the strapping young men who own trucks are available. my front door is a very non standard size and i have a very awkward front stair, so i needed something that could fit under the overhang while standing on its end. this one was the best size and (fortunately) the cheapest at $150. it is some sort of extremely flammable early polyester and 100% has a grandma’s soul trapped within its fibers. i will probably buy a cover at some later date to deter miss macaron but in the meantime we will do the strips of brown painters tape, which does successfully deter her. this really really does not want to be steamed so i will also be procuring some chemicals.

here are some other couches i could have bought but didn’t.

[archandshri]

22nd March ‘24 - [arch] Mad About Munch, Warm-up sketches and daaarknesss???

Good evening, Shri! I forgot that it is Friday, but at the beginning of writing this, I have an hour and 27 minutes until Friday is over, so I WILL be on time!

Wow, like a lot has happened? But I also don’t have tons to show for it. (it’s because I’m working on cool secret project that I’m not allowed to talk about which is fun!)

Stuff i have been doing

Museums :0!!!! I have been travelling and in my old age apparently, I like old art now???

Gathering a lot of reference images - photos, but also general inspiration

Finally organising my digital space a bit! I backed up like 3 years' worth of Procreate images and cleared out half my iPad

Getting some of my sketchbooks, especially comic development, digitised and onto Google Slides! I follow a similar process to when I was at uni still, with a huge PowerPoint for a project that contains reference images, inspiration, plot bullet points, and links to google docs where I write the scripts, development sketches and finals. It makes it super easy to go back to important parts of the development and be reminded of things I might have lost in the development process

Warm-up sketches because you bullied me into it (affectionate)

Continuing to explore colour

2 things I would like to tell you more about: 1) Edvard Munch!!!!!! If you ever get the chance to visit the Munch Museum in Oslo, do it!! I hadn’t seen a whole museum dedicated to one guy before, but seeing so much of his work in one place, in person really helped me understand it better. They also had a fantastic audio tour to rent that made it super accessible. I had just come from thinking about colour last week and becoming more comfortable with darker colours, and I had been thinking about personality and narrative in settings and backgrounds - both of which he does really well. In particular, The Sick Child, Eye in Eye, and The Sun stood out to me.

2) Play. AGAIN!!!!! I feel like I’m constantly having to fight myself, reminding myself to let go, play around, and explore without the expectation of a final outcome. You told me to try some 20 min warm-up and cool-down sketches - which I’ve been doing and has been going great! They’re not all perfect and aren’t supposed to be, but I’ve also had some really fun outcomes that wouldn’t have happened otherwise. I also feel like I’m getting more of a grip on colour :0

Plus, I’ve found that I haven’t wanted to post my terrible sketches or even my better ones?? Which has been nice to make without the need for sharing. However, I have found myself craving a final image to share with all of Tumblr and Instagram, thinking of possible images that would do well on those platforms. I think there is a small part of me that wants to create those because it would be fun, but I think it’s mostly to fix the number-shaped hole :/ Hank Green made a good video which mentioned the fact that platforms are EXTRA BAD with teaching creators to be addicted to them, even more so than consumers. Video here. It’s good.

I was listening to the Imp and Skizz podcast earlier (Episode - Rendog pt 1), it’s a great podcast, they chat about Hermitcraft a bit but mostly about what being alive is like and being a creator, I really recommend them too. Anyway, Skizz said he was once told to ‘create videos that he wanted to watch.’ And I think it’s a good approach to have when creating. What do I wanna see/ read?

I would love to chat to you about the balance between dark tones and silliness in storytelling too, but it is 11pm and I do have to get up early tomorrow. Plus, I’m not sure I have enough thoughts yet. But for now, it’s left me thinking: what do I want to make? Am I campable of silliness in stories? I want to tell stories with an undertone of darkness, that discusses difficult themes, but how to we do that while keeping it entertaining and not just Too Much(™)?

I dunno, just thoughts I’ve been having. I wanna get them down, even if I don’t have any solutions yet. In the meantime, please accept these sketchbook pages in lieu of philosophical answers. 

Thank you for listening to my rambles once again!

Love <3 Archie

Ps. I saw Frozen the musical and it was Very Sibling, and I cried. It made me think of you and I think you would like it (it’s only a bit different to the film but it makes such a difference omg)

[can-of-w0rmz]

Realising that people only want to be around you when you’re entertaining to them, when you’re in the middle of a depressive spiral and general considerably worsening mental state, is. Oooh. It’s not a fun one.

I’ll be honest, I’m pretty tired of constantly trying to put myself forward to people who are supposed to be my friends, for years and years now, as someone who’s way more lighthearted than I actually am. I’m also very tired of everyone around me, genuinely, again, for almost my entire life, to expect me to immediately get over everything bad that’s ever happened within a day. I also don’t really know how to get it through peoples heads that “mental breakdown and long ranting =/= “out of my system”, “mental breakdown and long ranting = beginning of much worse spiral if left alone with it”.

Shockingly, if multiple events permanently have changed the way I perceive and view the world, and being reminded of them, which I have been recently, causes me genuine psychological distress, rising anxiety and nightmares, then no, mentioning it once around people who just kind of barely put a word in or try to say anything about it won’t fucking cure it, obviously.

Of course since I’m venting here, I’m not saying there isn’t merit in venting, but I am saying that I feel like this whole culture around it that’s kind of developed makes it seem like the whole “a problem shared is a problem halved!” approach is an all-round fixer. Like yeah, smaller problems or less long-term problems can probably be significantly lessened by it, like I’m doing now, but massive life-changing issues can’t be, and Christ sometimes it just feels like I need more than “you can vent any time if you want”, which I appreciate, and which I barely get from the people around me in itself, but like. I’m kind of on the verge of a proper breakdown here? And I don’t want to bring that into my internet stuff, and I don’t want to put too many details into the open about that, but I mean the only reason I’m saying it is because I keep trying to make it as clear as I can in my personal life and it won’t work. And I don’t know why it won’t work. I just need more support than I’m getting from anyone, and I’m not asking for that here at all, really it’s the kind of support I can only get from a proper consistent irl relationship, but I just need to say it because I feel like I’m losing my mind a bit.

I just can’t keep pretending around people to make them like me. I just wish the people I love actually saw me the same way.

[thelostpassenger]

#LetPeopleEnjoyThings

I need to spend a little bit of time here ranting because my best friend / partner just recently reminded me of something that I have pretty much always known (for my dad even instilled it in me from a young age, trying to make me feel terrible for liking Goosebumps even!) but that has just really been having me in my feelings lately: people who shame others and suggest that there is something psychologically wrong with them for liking horror, especially ultraviolent and incredibly gory horror such as the Saw franchise, the Terrifier franchise, the Hatchet franchise, etc.

Here is the thing. I am one of those people. I have been since I was like 13 or 14 years old, and guess what else? I am not a bad person. I am a pacifist. I abhor violence. I hate guns, and it breaks my heart whenever I hear of someone having been murdered, the victim of a hate crime, etc. I am a total pacifist. I can't even bring myself to harm an insect!

With that being said, however, do I enjoy a good, creative, drawn out kill in a horror film? I mean, don't get me wrong; I love me a good ghost/paranormal story as well (The Others, The Haunting in Connecticut, 1408, etc.), but I really do love me some gore, and I am done feeling guilty about it.

There's nothing wrong with me. It's entertainment. Art the Clown isn't real. He's real enough in my imagination, but he isn't actually real. I can laugh at his antics and be thrilled by his creative kills without being a bad person... because I know it isn't real. Is there something wrong with me for sometimes enjoying watching suffering and pain involving fictional characters? Perhaps, but even if there is, I am done feeling bad about it. I am who I am, and deep in my heart, despite what my BPD is constantly trying to convince me of, I know that I am a good person, and this is an interest that isn't hurting anybody. It's also worth nothing that even though I probably would say that horror is overall my favorite genre (I am a spooky boy, okay? but I am Jack Skellington spooky!), I also am passionate about fairy tales, Barbie, Disney and Marvel heroes and villains, sci-fi, etc. I am a very complex person with seemingly contradictory but actually quite harmonious (at least to myself) interests and hobbies. If you are someone who passes negative judgment onto me because some of those interests are extremely gory and violent in nature, then you're no better than the conservative Karens trying to get their school boards to ban books. Just stop it. Let people enjoy things. I mean, if you absolutely HAVE to be judgmental about SOMETHING, then maybe at least develop some empathy and understand that maybe some of us who love horror and the macabre and blood and gore and death are using entertainment to heal from childhood trauma. Like Stephen King once said, "We make up horrors to help us cope with the real ones." I will say it again. Let people enjoy things.

[sparkandashes]

And for once, I wanna feel beautiful without being reminded of my flaws, without being told how close I am to being perfect, how I could fit into your definition of perfection, I am not here to compete and keep comparing myself, I want to celebrate and cherish who I am in my own skin, at least for a while, without being appreciated and judged at the same time. I don’t need feedbacks, I need no suggestions, I don’t need to be constantly reminded of everything I could be, just in the name of motivation, I don’t wish to entertain your words. They don’t lift me up, they bury me. I already have a mirror to look into and point out the flaws I have, I already have the restless mind that never fails to analyze, and criticize. All I don’t have is a heart always full of self-love, one that boosts my self-esteem, and that’s all I wish to have because love makes me feel less empty. Fill me with love, or leave me empty. Just don’t come close to hollow me even more.

Sparkandashes via tumblr

[schoolyardsage]

Hi, My Name is Sage

As the title says my name is Sage. Here's the basics: I'm 19 years old and a Scorpio. I'm a sophomore in college, and attend the University of Oregon. And I really suck at studying.

As I sit down to write this inaugural post, I find myself enveloped in a mixture of excitement and anticipation. From a young age, I've been captivated by the intricate tapestry of human cultures and the profound impact of our actions on the environment. My heritage has led to me developing a deep connection to the earth and a responsibility to contribute positively to the world around me. It's this sense of duty and curiosity that has led me to pursue a path toward becoming a climate scientist. I'm double majoring in anthropology, and climate sciences, and good lord do I wish I had considered the workload before signing up to double major, regardless I love the challenge.

My dream is to delve into the realm of climate data, comparing past records with present observations to unearth insights that can guide us toward sustainable solutions. I believe that by understanding our past, we can better navigate the challenges of the present and pave the way for a brighter future.

Beyond my academic pursuits, I am also drawn to the beauty of nature and the joys of creativity. Whether I'm swimming in the ocean, a river, lake, or pond, hiking through lush forests, or capturing the majesty I see around me through my camera lens, I find solace and inspiration in the world around me. And let's not forget the simple pleasures of baking delectable treats or riding horses with the wind in my hair – each activity is a cherished part of who I am.

My life would not be nearly as beautiful without my closest friends who add richness and depth to my days. My boyfriend, Ethan, whose unwavering support fuels my ambition; my beloved cat, Persia, whose playful antics bring laughter to even the darkest of days; and my best friend, Liliana who stands by me through thick and thin, she is so obsessed with me she even followed me from Portland to Eugene, if only to constantly reminding me of the power of love and friendship.

When it comes to entertainment, I enjoy the melodies of The 1975, the timeless classics of The Beatles, (my personal favorite is Let it Be), and the eclectic tunes of 10cc. My favorite book series is quite basic, but the enchanting world of Maggie Stiefvater's "The Raven Cycle" series holds a special place in my heart. I don't watch much TV unless I'm watching The Bachelor with Ethan, but I do watch my favorite movie, "Across the Universe" at least five times a year (My favorite scene is when Max goes to the Draft Office as it is both poetic and hilarious).

Yet amidst all these hobbies I am acutely aware of the need to hone my study skills, sharpen my mind, and deepen my understanding. And so, I've embarked on this blog not only as a means of sharing my journey and study methods but also as a platform for growth and self-discovery. How inspiring lol.

Sage M. (and Persia)

[ouiihaw]

Amélie 

I hate the heat. There is something so miserable about being hyper aware of the way that your clothes are touching your skin, about the sweat that is gathering on your body, about the way your internal temperature is stubbornly rising despite your best attempts to cool down.

And I hate the American South. Everyone is constantly asking you questions like How are you doing? and What brings you here? and they refuse to take silence for an answer. I’ve started to entertain myself with the lies I tell them in response. My favorite was I am here for a funeral . The woman who had asked the question nearly cried at my response, it has been the highlight of the trip so far.

The assignment I was given seemed easy enough at the time, take out the leader of the Deadlock Rebels, but what I have found is that Elizabeth Caledonia “Calamity” Ashe is having a particularly busy week, so much so that I have not been able to locate her since I got here. Akande is getting anxious, but I keep reminding him that I am a professional and he sent me for a reason.

I have never left a mission uncompleted, and I am not about to start now. 

[neteyamsilly]

Okay so yeah as I said I'd be back later, and I am back ( yeah very late lolz) So how are you???? Hope everything is alr? Okie so god, Jake seems pissed, the fatherly rage and all. He gon fuck up the person that dare interrupted this moment. Like my man was finally having a heart felt moment and finally realized his mistakes ( at long last) and was trying to correct them, but no, it can't happen not so soon anyways. Like this guy, I kinda feel bad for us when this old father was finally admitting his mistakes, some douchebag had to ruin it. like I can imagine the us goin "Aye U mf, this bish was finally, finally apologizing and u had to ruin it didn't you? Leave my father man I'll fuck you up, dumb bitch couldn't handle bein humiliated by dad and mom once that you come back again for more?"

I WANT NEYETIRI'S REACTION FOR THE NAME JACK, AND I SAW SM1 IN YOUR ASKS SAYING THE NAME JACK THE CANNIBAL. AND I LOVED IT WHOEVER HAD THAT IDEA. I CAN IMAGINE NEYETIRI GOING- SHE'S TOO MUCH OF A COPY LIKE HER FATHER- Like bro but god I re-read it again all the parts and I cried, an emotional wreak, the lucid dreaming? oh it felt so true, like it was not a part of ur fiction but the actual movie. This is how good your writing is. Okie so as you said we are heading to the Metkayina Clan. I want a lil info if psbl. Is she gonna fall in love with one of the Metkayinan Boy or Girl? I've never, ever been obsessed with a piece of Fiction so damn bad as this one. I'm addicted to this man, what you write hits right in the damn feels. Love you <33 AND YEE PAY FOR MY AND OTHER'S THERAPY BILLS. IMMA SEND MINE NEXT.

FIRST OF ALL NO I CANNOT PAY FOR ANY THERAPY I CANT EVEN AFFORD MYSELF 💀💀💀

AND totally uncalled for TMI but i wanna complain a bit,,,, I started my period today and things suck it hurts. the radiator in my room also broke down and im cold its winter here. but like. im happy regardless bc i have you guys<3 constantly am reminded there's a small crowd out there on the internet who love me (maybe) and my writing so im cheered up instantly. yes im being cheesy im on my period EXCUSE ME

MOVING ON THOUGH i want to say that man was one of the recombinants in quaritch's squad that wasn't quite killed and only wounded. the rest of his squad got extraction but he didn't, so that's how he made his way to the tree of souls trying to navigate the forest. i didnt really gave context to how sister!reader's rescue went because she was very focused on herself and her claustrophobic panic at the moment but YEAH I thought it'd be cool to establish a bit of a butterfly effect HSHSJDS ur gonna see what jake does with him it's going to be interesting

(ALSO THANK YOU AQSA TO THINK ITS THAT DESCRIPTIVE AND CLEAR THAT YOU COULD LUCID DREAM AHHHHSDSDBSJKDBK)

OOF to be honest i only have bits and pieces for the metkayina plot. if i were to write about it i think i'd do just headcanons? i dont have a lot tbh,,,,, nothing is set in stone at the moment. for the romance i have ideas i entertain, sister!reader is a character who can have interesting dynamics with everyone due to her personality. i havent really planned anything at all so i just dont know. i really am planning to leave the ending ambiguous sorry AHAHAH

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 9/12/2023

this series not sponsored by murphy's wood oil soap but boy do i wish it was

listening

this song popped up as the first video when i opened accursed tiktok to figure out what the deal was with that german engineer lady digging a storm shelter in her basement. this is the specific recording i want but the second video with a slightly longer intro... u have got to see Abel Selaocoe in motion performing Ka Bohaleng/On The Sharp Side.

i feel like every time i see a video of a cellist they're doing some absolutely bonkers shit and producing sounds i did not know a stringed instrument could make

-

reading

i am constantly chasing the very high highs of raymond chandler's philip marlowe detective noirs. Human Target, a DC extended universe thing by Tom King and Greg Smallwood got real damn fuckin close.

i took thirty-five screenshots while reading these twelve issues. they are such a lush love letter to midcentury advertising. it luxuriates in period-typical stylized coloring in a way i do not see very often. i hope mr smallwood gets sucked silly every night.

one of the reasons for the tuesdayposts is to force myself to look at new things, bc sometimes i find shit i really like. i am remarkably unwilling to consume new things when i am not feeling good, even though new things i like are…not a keystone, but really up there holding together some arch in the viaduct of mental health or whatever.

anyway Christoper Chance is a man with a very specific skillset: perfectly imitating wealthy clients to lure out assassins. he takes a fatal does of poison meant for Lex Luthor and has about twelve days to solve his own murder before he dies. this is an EXTREMELY compelling reason for someone to haul ass through an entire noir novel in less than two weeks.

let's make some comparisons to other spy media i've seen in the last month. christopher reminded me a bit of loid forger from spy x family: same hypercompetent backup plans for backup plans and incredible disguise skills. im sort of...positively? fascinated by him, as opposed to the (also entertaining) train wreck of james bond's psyche slamming up against soft targets for two to two and a half hours. like there is womanizing in Human Target, but it is not the time-filling bond girl eye candy. do not worry, christopher FUCKS.

it is self contained within its twelve issues so i didn't have to read eighteen other crossovers and have encyclopedic knowledge of c- and d-listers from the silver age of comics. it was a very fair mystery. the twists and turns weren’t stupid. i know that’s not a terribly helpful observation but sometimes in a mystery…it takes a fucking stupid turn. most importantly imo it sticks its landing and understands that a noir is a subgenre of tragedy.

how’d i find it: has a pretty cover, stood out from the crowd on hoopla. americans, you probably have access to hoopla through your library!

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watching

@andmaybegayer referenced the youtube channel About To Eat in a recent mondaypost and i was so enthralled by this man's confident, dulcet, soothing and mustachioed tones. i had forgotten that i could in theory make french onion soup like myself. at home. soup season will not begin here for many months here and even then it's kind of pushing it, but i would like to eat some soup without melting!!!

overall About To Eat's recipes are a bit beyond my skill level and ability to prepare things in one sitting without joint pain but they are a display of competence i find very fun to watch.

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playing

ive rationed all my picture slots for other slots but i did finally obtain two of the country-specific fishing rods in genshin impact. they were extremely irritating to obtain but i trust you'll understand i'm quite pleased with myself.

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making

unphotographable things:

reactivating the dried sourdough starter from the horrible woods apartment of 2021, unforch rn it does look like when my cat regurgitates her kibble

sprayed the new couch down with some rather nasty insectide just in casies, it is still degassing in my office with the fan at helicopter speed and the balcony door open and towels shoved under the inside door for another 24h, also made plans to dye a big canvas dropcloth and strategically pin it in place for a cheapo slipcover

coffee table specific unphotographable things:

finally finished cleaning all seven

had to violently strangle the urge to repaint certain inner sections and made peace with touching up the worst of it with an oil-based paint pen bc let's be real nobody is going to look closely at that but me

pried some corrosion off one of the little brass decorative thingies, now it looks bad in a slightly different way

photographable things:

now this is a fun little record cabinet. i haven’t seen many pieces out in the wild that have that sort of vertical bullnose detail. makes me think of thirties waterfall dressers with their molded plywood rounded upper edges.

i can’t decide if the veneer on this piece is starting to really go (it is heavily crackled esp on the sides) or it was once owned by a smoker. the photo below is of the THIRD round of cleaning this front panel after upping the cleaning mix to a HEARTY 2:1 water/soap, and this was not the worst panel on the piece. mostly it really just smells like old wood? i don’t THINK the innards are cedar, bc that would be an odd choice for a record cabinet, but it is an oddly fragrant base wood.

there are some details that make me think it was never a terribly high end piece, or was maybe repurposed into a record cabinet? the veneer is quartered but somewhat indifferently matched, it has very indifferent nailhead finishing, and im not sure if the casters and record slots were later additions. i think the little door catches are original, but they aren’t magnetic yet which starts ruling out some later mcm. i would hazard this was made right before or right after wwii, but realistically it could be early thirties-early sixties. no makers marks :(

i will refinish this eventually. a bit nervous about how the front bullnoses might come out, i don’t really want to fuck around with veneer repair or like. grain painting. that’s for insane ppl and antiques dealers and i am clearly neither

free of ghosts, spider eaten on the house no additional charge with the friends and family discount

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

I hit about eight different topics in this post. All related to various comedians. It's been a while since I've done a post in which I just start writing and then let myself go, if one thing I write reminds me of a different thing I'll start writing about that. There's no plan to this post. Adding a cut for people who (justifiably) do not want to go through something even more rambly than usual, for me. I'll say at the outset that there's nothing particularly deep or insightful here.

Just finished listening to the podcast episode to go with the new Taskmaster, and it was quite good. Solid insights from Ivo Graham, as I’d have expected. I missed this podcast, since they stopped putting stuff out every week. I realized I’ve missed hearing Ed Gamble – I do like him enough to enjoy hearing him talk for 45-ish minutes per week, which I learned from the several years he spent doing the Taskmaster podcast with very few weeks off, and I miss it now that it only airs while Taskmaster (UK) is airing.

If only I hadn’t spent years in a sport that forced me to track my weight so meticulously that I am now incapable of seeing food as entertainment, ruling out getting into Off Menu. If only I didn’t have a combination of hypochondria that mainly manifests as fear of developing cancer and/or diabetes, and fear of needles, along with a specific fear that I’ll develop diabetes and then have to have needles for the rest of my life, and the way I manage to go through life instead of being constantly paralyzed with anxiety about this is by avoiding thinking about the existence of those things as much as possible. I can think about if I’m absolutely forced to, but at the very least, I’m unable to derive enjoyment from thinking about them. So Ed Gamble’s stand-up might be great, I don’t know, I haven’t sought it out.

I have a disappointing amount of reasons to avoid listening to his stuff, given how much I enjoy hearing him talk. Maybe I should get into his radio show, I like Matthew Crosby. And every once in a while I think of how the side of Ed Gamble I like least is the way he’s a bit too TV polished sometimes, so clearly the solution to that is to get into the Peacock and Gamble stuff.

Anyway, it was a fun episode. The more I think about it, the more excited I am for Taskmaster season 16. That first episode was so good, one of those things that’s so good I just want to go over and over it, so I enjoyed hearing Ed and Ivo do that.

I remembered today that a few months ago, I was hanging out with my brother, and I told him I’d bought tickets to see Tom Ballard. He didn’t know who Tom Ballard was, I said he’s an Australian comedian, my brother said he didn’t know as much about Australian comedy as he should. Then we both started naming other Australian comedians, to see if we have any knowledge of them in common. He didn’t know any of my names, until I asked him, “Do you know Sam Campbell?” and he said yes. I asked him if he likes Sam’s comedy, and he said that actually he’s never seen Sam’s comedy.

“But you said you know him,” I said. My brother said yeah, from when he lived in Melbourne. I often forget that my brother lived in Melbourne for a year, in about 2015-ish. He also lived in London for a year, around 2011. Did some comedy in both those places. Anyway, he told me that one time when he lived in Melbourne, he was at a party, and one of his comedy friends introduced him to a guy named Sam Campbell. “I haven’t seen him perform, but he was a nice guy,” my brother said. I told him we are working with different definitions of what it means to "know" a comedian.

I think this might be the first time I’ve been two handshakes away from a Taskmaster contestant. I can get three away from plenty of them – I’ve met someone who’s met someone who’s met them. Three away from Mae Martin in plenty of ways, I think, and not even just through my brother, now that I’ve spent some time with other local comedians. A bunch of those local comedians, including my brother, have worked with some of the comedians who were on LOL Canada, a fairly bad… okay less bad than you’d expect given the premise but definitely not great… comedy-based reality show that I watched this summer entirely because it had Mae Martin on it. Mae Martin’s pretty good in that, by the way, for the information of anyone who’d like to know that. By which I mean, if you happen to just really like watching Mae Martin do anything, that is a show on Amazon Prime that features Mae Martin doing some stuff. Mainly trying not to laugh at Tom Green.

 So I can get three away, but I think Sam Campbell is the first Taskmaster contestant my brother, or anyone else I know personally, has actually met. I mean, technically I’ve now met Josie Long and Grace Petrie, and they’ve met lots of Taskmaster contestants. Technically I’ve been one handshake away from a Taskmaster contestant, as Josie Long was an original champion (well, second after Wozniak). But I think in this case, I’m defining “handshake” as working with someone or seeing them socially. It counts if you only worked with or met them once, but it has to be work or social, not just accosting them on the streets of Montreal and asking them to sign a tour poster from over ten years ago.

 Though my meeting with Grace Petrie has turned out to possibly be slightly more significant than I’d thought at the time. I haven’t been able to find my wallet this weekend, and the last time I definitely, 100% had it was when I took it out at the merch table at her concert and gave her money for a CD. I think I remember having it when I got home from the concert, but I can’t be totally sure, and I can’t find it anywhere in the house.

I was an incoherent mess when I met Grace Petrie at her merch table, I remember shaking and stuttering a bit as I spoke to her and trying to remember what I wanted to say, and I definitely don’t remember keeping track of anything. It is absolutely conceivable that my flustered state from meeting Grace Petrie led me to forget to pick up my wallet when I left the table. Again, I don’t think so – I think I would have checked for it before leaving the venue at the end of the night. But the more I search this house and don’t find it, the more likely it looks that the “too excited to meet Grace Petrie to remember to grab it” theory is exactly what happened. So basically, my current working theory is that Grace Petrie stole my wallet.

It'd be good if Sam Campbell won Taskmaster, not just because I called that the moment the cast was officially announced so now I have to back him like he’s a sports team because I like being right. But I’d enjoy being two handshakes away from a Taskmaster champion.

My brother does have a few “meeting now-famous people” stories about his time doing the comedy circuit in London, which I would like credit for not having posted here. Last year he gave me some entertaining gossip about British comedians, and I have refrained from mentioning that on my blog about British comedians, and I just want people to recognize the restraint I showed. In case anyone’s concerned, since “there’s a story about a famous person” so often means bad things, it’s nothing like that. All stories with tawdry parts in them have been entirely consensual. Though I will say that one time last year, my brother and I were in our parents’ living room and he told a story about Daniel Sloss that resulted in us having to explain the concept of dick pics to our mother. That is fine to say because it’s not putting any previously unknown gossip out there, as Daniel Sloss’ most recently released filmed special has a whole routine about how there are lots of his dick pics out there and one is bound to get leaked at some point. And I said “Yes, so I’ve heard.”

My brother told me at the time that he didn’t particularly like Daniel Sloss’ comedy, but I’m pretty sure he hadn’t actually seen it, and this was just one comedian automatically disliking another comedian who had started around the same time as him but become much, much more successful. Though to be fair, I have seen the DVD Daniel Sloss made when he was 22, and it’s fair to say he was not always the deep and complex comedian he is today. There is some bad stuff in his half man/half x-box days. And even recently, I don’t think everything he’s done is great. His latest special was fairly uneven and I do get sick hearing him call himself a dangerous an edgy comic, even though I know that’s just normal marketing. But I think he’s made some legitimately great things.

My brother told me more recently, however, that he had watched Daniel Sloss’ Jigsaw for the first time and loved it, that it’s exactly how he feels about relationships but hasn’t seen someone put it so well into words before. And he sent Jigsaw to his friend who’s in a bad relationship, saying this might encourage her to get out of it. I said I know what he means, that Jigsaw put into words a bunch of stuff that I also think about relationships but couldn’t articulate as clearly as Daniel Sloss did in that show, and I’ve also used it to show other people what I think. For example, I said, when I was early in the process of dating my most recent ex-girlfriend, it was going really really well and we were both talking about how we liked this but had agreed at the outset that neither of us were looking for a serious relationship, I sent her the Jigsaw show as a way to explain why I don’t do serious/traditional/committed relationships, but I really like her so can we keep seeing each other anyway? And of course about three weeks later we decided we had fallen in love and would therefore make an exception and use the word “girlfriend” and call this a relationship properly. I told my brother this, and he said… “No, that’s not the same thing. I sent Jigsaw to a girl I like because I hoped it would make her break up with her boyfriend. That’s what you’re supposed to do with that show, use it to break people up. You’re not supposed to send it to a girl you like who’s already dating you, as a way to start a relationship with her. Do you think it might have been a bad sign that you started a relationship by showing her that strongly anti-romance comedy show and saying this is what you think?” And I said I don’t know, fuck off, and yeah, probably.

It is nighttime and I have to get up for work tomorrow but I can't sleep, so I thought I'd just start writing some stuff and see where it takes me. Obviously it took me here. I started writing about the Taskmaster podcast, and I ended up writing about why my relationship fell apart last year. I'm doing fine. I need to go to sleep. I also need to find my fucking wallet. Just my luck, having Grace Petrie steal my wallet.