#i might have to.. open up... and talk about all this stuff... to all these people i'm trying to make connections with... Oh God

[sunshine6ixty]

i think this is where i've landed with the whole gaiman thing.

some background, i was a gaiman girlie. i paid money to see him speak, i volunteered for a signing, i've taken pictures in front of the world's largest carousel; hugely formative, resonated on a level that nothing else i've encountered did, and so on and so on etcetera. (i got to say "mr gaiman i wouldn't be who i am today without your books" to him, which is a Different Flavored Memory now than it once was, i can tell you)

and like. though his books had a familiar and fond place in my life, i'd already gotten to a point of... nebulous disenchantment? not disgust or anything-- just that nature was taking its course, and i was drifting away. i started reading neil gaiman at age... what, thirteen? maybe eleven? and i read his work consistently for a while. i'm in my thirties now, and i haven't been keeping track, but i've read american gods once a year for at least the past five years. it was just... kinda time, in a way. he seemed like he'd said what he had to say, and was coasting in a perpetual victory lap, which i was fine with. i'd just... keep picking at the gaiman books again when i was bored.

and i remember thinking, around when i first noticed this distance i'd been feeling, that i was just... running dry. things felt stale and i didn't know where to look to change that.

and then this all happened.

and all of a sudden, my perception of this person has been wrenched into a completely new perspective. just, twisted sideways, seams popping, eyes bugging, can't-unbreak-the-action-figure wrenched. the spell is broken, in an ironically gaiman-esque way, and this mythic figure (~*nEIL GAIman*~) is revealed to be just a shitty, spoiled brat of a complete fucking monster.

i've read the article, i've heard the stories about how weird he was for doctor who, i've seen not-unreasonable allegations of plagarism floating around-- suffice it to say, he's just a shit of a dude. he's... not special. not really. he's a good writer who said one thing with his work, and lived another. who saw something that resonated, and put his name on it. who said something that we felt, and said he gave it to us.

and i realized, from this angle, that the reason i was feeling so dried out was likely because neil gaiman (some might say purposefully) took all the fucking air out of the room. like, nobody was neil gaiman, right, so what right could you have to try to do a neil gaiman? he was the only gaiman. the apex of gaiman. peak gaiman. the mystical, profound, monotheistic god of dark poetic storytelling.

but like. he wasn't. it turns out, he was just a shitty dude. magic or no, he was mostly just entitled.

and i think that sort of broke something in me. if the curtain was pulled back and there was just a weird, shitty little dude in there, then what the fuck have i been doing? in an... i-should-probably-talk-to-a-therapist-about-this sort of way, neil gaiman kept me from writing! like-- i was a kid who took pictures of graves at age five, who made up a story about a child bricked up in the school belltower who's ghost still wandered the halls (and published it in the school newspaper, next to what flavor milk does mrs k's 5th grade class prefer), who believed there was a door to another world beneath their neighbor's ornamental bush, who mapped the lost city (/junk dump) in the open space drainage ditch! this is the stuff i did before i knew gaiman! i liked gaiman because i was into this stuff already, and then after a while, without me really noticing it, neil gaiman became this stuff. the only source of it. the only rightful creator of a gaiman.

and like... if you know you can't do it like neil gaiman, because he's him and you're not, you kind of start despairing before you even begin, right?

fuck that.

i think, what i can take away from the whole debacle is this: it's time for all of us who have ever felt like this to do a gaiman.

... by which i mean, make our art. not the other stuff.

you have every right to be as audacious as neil gaiman with your art. take it as seriously, tell everyone it's as important. put that thing down on paper; the thing you otherwise wouldn't.

look, chances are, you're actually a better person than neil gaiman. he sucks. he was a skilled craftsman, but skill can be learned. what he did was practice and talk himself up. and there is nothing magical about neil gaiman that hasn't also run beneath our fingertips.

there was never anything unique about ~*neiLGAiman*~. not really. neil just made him up to be the special-est most darkest and dreamiest boy there ever was, and it was a fucking lie, and its insidious the degree to which it ate an entire genre.

because, honestly? i want to read more shit like neil gaiman! i've been hungry for more of what he said was solely his for so fucking long! i want to see what weird, fever-dream stories we've all been sitting on because he ate the entire ecosystem! i want to read all of the beautiful, terrible, fucked-up magical things from everyone that never saw the light of day because neil was too busy basking in it!

and now that the mask is off, it's fucking time. i'm going to take my shit back, neil. fuck you.

in a weird, fucked-up way, what a relief.

[moody-alcoholic]

Cross My Heart

Part 3 - Working With the Enemy

Summary: eventual poly141 x reader. Enemies to lovers, mini fic.

CW: mentions of wounds, medical stuff.

Previous parts - masterlist - next

AO3

Enjoy <3

They make you leave the room with the mohawk guy while they talk. 

It’s been at least 10 minutes you’d wager. They’re deciding your fate. It makes you restless, bouncing your leg up and down while you hear their muffled voices on the other side of the door. You look over at the man in the room.

You could take him, you wouldn’t have to do much just surprise him, give yourself enough time to run out the house. Maybe if you knock him hard enough you can grab his weapon. He’s not even holding a weapon at you, his arms are crossed. 

You’re quick, you don’t know if you’re quicker then him but his pistol is just sitting her in his holster. 

“See something you like?” He asks, snapping you out of your head, you look up at him.

“Why join the army when your country is not at war?”

“Why not pick a side when yours is?” You scoff, shaking your head. Like he would understand what it’s like. Just like the Americans, there always has to be a good and a bad. 

“You’re not british?” You ask. 

“Scottish.” He replies. You didn't think you were going to get a sincere reply, you smile. He looks over at you and you look away, back to the door.

“Ever think about what’s going to happen when the war ends?” He asks. You laugh, you don’t really mean it, it just seems like such a stupid question. 

“I’ll be long gone before that happens.” You say crossing your arms and leaning back in the chair. You’ve dropped the idea of escaping it seems. Maybe you can get more info from them, useful info. A Lot of people would pay good money for SAS intel.  

“Really? Where would you go?” He asks like he’s interested all of a sudden.

“America, Russia. Somewhere with a fuck load of land.” 

“Why?” 

“Farming sounds like fun. Being self-sufficient, that kind of thing.” You say. He raises an eyebrow like he doesn’t believe you. 

“What about you? Got any dreams or are you planning on dying for your country?” You ask bitterly. What makes him think he’s any better than you? Because he took an oath? Fuck him. 

“Who knows, might do. What’s better though a quick fulfilled life or a long unfulfilled one?” He says. You frown at him. What the fuck does that mean?

“What? Were you a psychologist in another life?” You ask, looking away. He chuckles, you ignore him. You both sit there in silence for what feels like ages. You can still hear mumbling, they’re still talking. They could be deciding to execute you. You’re the enemy, they don’t even need to make it look like an accident. Boom bullet in your head job done. 

You just hope it’ll be quick. Or maybe they’ll decide to torture you for intel, not that you know much. 

“What’s your name?” You turn to the man. 

“Soap.” 

“Soap? Like what you wash with?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. He nods, you scoff, shaking your head and looking away.

Soap, Ghost, Gaz and Price. What a fucking mess you’ve got yourself in. 

…

The door swings open, it makes you jump. Soap springs to his feet, you wait. 

“He wants to talk to you.” Gaz says, he barely looks at you as he moves out the way of the door. You stand up swallowing the fear rising in you. You walk back into the room. Price is sat up on the sofa now a hand pressed on the bandages on his stomach, there’s an electronic tablet by his side. That probably has a lot of expensive intel on it. 

Ghost’s stood behind the sofa with his arms crossed. You look at him quickly then to Price as you stop in front of him. He looks round you, he still looks clammy, at least there is some colour back in his face. That’s got to be good, at least whatever you did didn't kill him. 

“You said you could pull the bullet out?” He asks. You look round the room not quite believing what you’re hearing. 

“No, I said you needed a hospital.” You cross your arms. Price smiles leaning back on the sofa, his face winces in pain even though he tries to hide it. 

“I want you to pull it out.”

“Price!” You hear Gaz say. “That's not what we discussed.” 

“I’m sorry. Even if I could just pull it out, I don’t have any equipment. No sterile field, an x-ray.” You stop throwing your hands up. “I could kill you. I don’t exactly want the blood of a SAS soldier on my hands.”  

“I could die anyway?” 

“You’re still talking, moving, breathing.” You’re getting frustrated, there’s no way you’re going to do this. If you kill him they’ll blame you it’s a death sentence. 

“Which means the bullet probably missed anything vital.” He says as a matter of fact. You look down at the wound, his hand still resting on the bandages. The bleeding is under control, he seems fine other than the hole in his stomach. 

“Maybe. I don’t know but I'm not doing what would basically be surgery on you in a shitty safehouse.” You say squeezing the bridge of your nose. “Like I said I don’t even have the tools.” 

“The vets in the next town over, will it have what you need?” You stop pinching your nose. You don’t say anything. There is no way this is happening.  

“You’re crazy.” You scoff, holding your hands up then letting them fall back down by your side. You look round at everyone. No one is saying anything, Price has a smile on his lips you just want to slap off. 

“C’mere.” He says moving and gesturing for you to step closer. You just stand there gawking at him, no one is saying anything. You look up at Ghost, his eyes are digging into you. You swallow again, taking a step over to him. This time everyone does move, ever so slightly but enough for you to notice. Price’s hand reaches out to press on his side. 

“Feel that.” He says. You look up at him unsure what to do, he nods at you. You shake your head for a second letting out a sigh and press where he instructed. 

Holy shit, it’s hard just under his skin. It’s the bullet. You could pull that out no problem, then you could stitch up the rest of his wounds.

“Still don’t think you could get it out?” He asks as you stand back up. Your eyes flick back up to Ghost. You press your lips together thinking, you could do this.

“What’s in it for me?” You ask. Now it’s negotiation time. You hear Gaz scoff. 

“We let you walk out here alive.” Gaz says, there’s anger in his voice. You turn to look at him. He’s definitely the most reserved out of all them, he held a gun to your head. He would kill you, all he needs is an excuse. You look back down at Price. 

“Your life for mine.” 

“Dramatic.” You scoff. You hear Soap chuckle behind you. 

“I want asylum, in the UK.” You say, crossing your arms. It's not America but it’s a start.  

“Fine.” Price says. You look at him shocked. 

“Just like that?” You ask frowning, it’s almost too go to be true. 

“Just like that. You need to get us into Russia though. Quietly, you said you’re a good smuggler, we’ll even pay you for it.” Price says. Now you really don’t believe him. It’s a challenge though, you can see it in his eyes. 

“I would need to go to the vets for the supplies.” You say.

“Ghost will go with you.” Price says. This is risky, they could be lying. They could kill you as soon as they’re done with you. If they want you to take them over the border you could hand them over to Konni. Makarov would probably pay you enough to retire if you handed him 4 SAS soldiers, fuck it he’d probably give you a mansion somewere in Russia. 

“How do I know I can trust you?” You ask.

“How do we know we can trust you?” Price says back, tipping his head. Touché. You smile. 

“Okay. I’ll help.” You hold your hand out, he shuffles uncomfortably but leans forward to shake your hand. 

You don’t trust them, but they don’t trust you. No way you’re going to let them betray you though. That’s your job.

next

Banners by plum98

[lj-lephemstar]

Progress Checkup! (Jan. 2025) | Scratchin' Melodii Devlog

Hey guys! Time for another progress checkup; This is actually the first one of the new year! I hope you were all able to enjoy the holidays. I took a bit of a break from working on most stuff last month and have been getting back on things this month. First, I wanna thank everyone who's wishlisted Scratchin' Melodii on Steam! So far, the game's gotten over 17,000 wishlists! Thanks so much for the support!

In the previous devlog, I mentioned some changes to the rhythm system. In the Dragon Funk preview, you can see the new rhythm system and character icons I mentioned in the previous devlog! Actually, let's unpack some of the new things you're seeing in action there:

Hold Notes This is the first song in the game to include hold-notes! They mostly work the same as they would in any other rhythm game. However, since this game has an emphasis on self expression, moving the control stick during these will let you tune the note's pitch-bend for extra expression points! I showed that off in a post here. As for Pow Notes, I've been working on a way to let the player get expression points from these too! I'd like for most of the special notes like these to be not just a gimmick, but a tool that the player can use to their advantage.

Quadruple Lines Yep! The first blue line in this one is extra long and has 4 rows! Fun fact actually, I had to implement this feature after I realized that part of the song was too long to fit in just two rows. It was pretty difficult to figure out both how to do it and how to execute it in a way that doesn't feel too jarring, but I'm pretty satisfied with the results! In fact, barely anyone's even noticed it; I guess that's just how natural it feels! Not sure how much more often I'll be having lines longer than two rows, but it's great that I have the option now.

AutoPlay You might also notice that the player inputs are perfectly timed... TOO perfect... that's because I've developed an autoplay feature for the game! At the moment, it's mostly for debugging and stuff, but if all goes according to plan, AutoPlay Mode and Replays should hopefully be available to players as well in some form when the game comes out!

"Next" Indicator & Other UI Related QoL Some of the top things players said they had trouble with in the demo were related to being prepared for the next line. So, if you look at the right-end of the rhythm bars, you'll see a little tab that shows the color and amount of rows the next line will have! Also, now each line's suggested notes can be seen before the rival performs them. This did take some thought, as I actually kinda still liked the idea of it appearing as if the characters were making it up on the spot, but to put game design first, it makes more sense to have it displayed as soon as possible so the player has more time to react and prepare. This also opens up more possibilities for future mechanics, so in the long run, I think I've made the best choice here.

Now, let's get into what I've been and/or will be working on that you haven't seen yet!

Act 2's Boss The music for the Act 2 Boss is  nearly complete! I'll likely be starting to animate it pretty soon. This song is the longest one I've done so far, clocking at a duration of a little over 3 minutes long!

More Animation Updates for Stir & Mix At this point, I've done even more cleanups on the sequence you saw in the last devlog and I've finished animating the "I wanna" scene of the song, which will probably have the most changes out of any other scene in the song. When I first animated Stir & Mix, I didn't quite have the time or skills to do everything I really wanted to do with it. That scene in particular I felt was WAY too stiff and boring, especially compared to the more dynamic and fluid scenes that appear in some of the other the stages now. I'd say I'm about halfway done retouching all the animations for this one!

Refined Model Sheets I don't talk about these very often, but sometime around 2023 I started using model/reference sheets for the characters. (I might show them off someday, but for now they're staying private!) Before this point, the designs are pretty inconsistent from shot to shot, so this helped a lot with that. Recently, I've done some revisions I'm really pleased with. Their designs are finally becoming... well, final! I'll be reworking the affected characters' hub world sprites at some point to reflect these changes.

Slight Reworks for some Act 1 Songs On the sound side, Stir & Mix's vocals have been reworked again! As I've mentioned in the previous devlog, 2cada's tuning style and techniques have evolved a bit since we first started working together, so we thought it'd be fun to go back and incorporate some of that into it. We'll also probably be reworking the structure of Nami's song a little bit at some point just to make it a feel a bit more solid, which may require a new line or two from her voice actor, Meggie-Elise! So funnily enough, it seems some of the songs will have end up having TWO unused beta versions after this.

Also, a quick PSA: Please note that beta versions of content will NOT be included in the full game. I've heard people ask for them to be "brought back" or toggleable, but in my situation something like that is both easier said than done and I also just... don't want to LOL. With as many directions I can take this game, I know I can't satisfy everyone, but I can make a game that satisfies me, so I'm aiming for that! And hey, maybe other people will like it too.

I think that's all I wanna talk about for now! Thanks so much for reading. It can be a bit of a daunting task to write these at times, but I'm glad to keep you up to date on the project when I can.

-LJ

[yrlocalwerewolf]

mel medarda x reader hcs ! ✩ (MEN DNI.)

ough. this woman is always covered in gold. no matter what she's wearing it's got to be gold. gold pajamas, gold embrodered shirts, whatever.

dates are really special to her. she loves going out for dinner with you, or a movie or something. mel loves to dress up for them.

she spoils you but more in moderation. she's never been an overspender, and she'd rather give you money for you to buy your own stuff instead of buying it for you.

but she will go above and beyond anytime there's an event. your birthday? you're getting a huge party and breakfast in bed and maybe a nice lunch. if you don't something and tell her about it, she apologizes over and over again and swears she won't do it again.

her gifts are always good. books, new games, whatever. she has a little list that she uses to keep track of everything you say you want/like. your favorite colours blue? noted.

she's never really wanted a pet, maybe a sphinx cat, but she might entertain the idea if you ask.

acts of services !! she loves when you take time out of your day to do stuff for her, no matter how small.

this woman uses up all the warm water. either you get up before six to have a hot shower, or you're stuck waiting until it heats up again.

she spends hours a day getting ready. you have to remind her several times when she's doing her makeup that she can do it in the car.

passenger princess. can't drive for the life of her. she'll just get a taxi for the two of you if you, also, cannot drive.

she has been through one too many situationships with women. she's the type of girl to make out with you for an hour and then ask what you two were after.

she says 'i love you' at least ten times a day to you. she jokes that if she doesn't do that, then she's been replaced with an imposter.

her mother's death weighed heavily on her. ambessa wasn't the perfect mother by any means, but she was her mother. and that had to count for something.

it wasn't easy to get mel to open up to you at first, especially after the final battle and that act on the council. she was really closed off and hardly talked. she felt responisble for a lot of things (the people in the council dying, caitlyn losing her eye ect.) and you had to work really hard to convince her otherwise.

mel is heads over heels for you. always hugging you each night before she sleeps and burying her face in your neck.

[anon-sect]

As Trevor was walking around the corner of the back lot of the office, he happened to notice Axel and Landon smoking weed on the premises. This was in strict violation of company rules. "You know you two aren't supposed to be smoking that stuff here." He spoke to them.

Axel and Landon both looked over at their coworker, Trevor. "Mind your own business. We won't get caught. We have been doing this for weeks." Landon replied. "Yeah, piss off, okay." Axel remarked back as well.

Trevor saw no need to say any more and walked off. It was really none of his business after all if they weren't caught yet.

Later that day, the manager had called everyone up to the main area. "As you all know, we have a strict no weed smoking on premisis. But there has been someone smoking in the back lot. We have found the buds on the ground." Owen paused for a moment. "Due to the plant odor, it's hard to smell the weed scent in here. So if anyone knows anything, they are encoursge to speak up." He finished and dismissed everyone.

Trevor went up to Axel and Landon. "You know I should report you two." He spoke softly so that only those two heard his words. "You would lose your jobs, I bet." He added.

Axel and Landon looked a little nervous. They were both already on their second strike for violating company rules. If there was a third, they would be fired for sure. That resulst they didn't want. "What do you want to keep your mouth shut?" Landon asked Trevor, hoping something reasonable. "Yes, anything, we don't need a third strike." Axel also pleaded for some mercy from his coworker.

Trevor thought about it. "Come by my office in ten minutes, and I will tell you. If you don't show, I might be persuaded to talk." He spoke as he walked off heading bakc to his office. He wanted them to pondoer their options.

Riight on time, Trevor saw Landon and Axel enter his office. "We are here, now what you want from us to keep your silence." Axel wanted to know so that this ordeal would be over with.

Trevor pulled out his phione and opened up his TF Pro Max app. "I want you two to be my perfect socks to keep my feet comfortable. I never had living socks before." He stated his request to the strange look on their faces.

"Let me get this straight. You want us to be literal socks willing?" Landon asked in disbelief. Trevor nodded back in response. Both laughed at the thought of being socks.

"I guess I should call the manager then." Trevor threatened while smiling back at them.

"Even if it was possible, It's worth keeping your silence. We will be your socks." Landon spoke, not believing that would ever happen.

Travor pointed his phone at both of them and hit the flash. Axel and Landon were instantly turned into a pair of whites socks. He went around his desk and picked up the socks from off the floor. "Nice, you both look perfect. I will wear you two for about a week. I will turn you back to normal then." He sat back down in his chair and took off his old socks in favor of his new living socks. He loved how the new socks felt on his feet. He wiggled his toes in them before putting his favorite sneakers back on his feet. He caught a quick scent of the odor from his shoes. He was glad he wasn't the one being stuck in that foul stench.

Landon was totally shellshocked. He was completely wrapped around Trevor's foot and trapped in the most foul prison he could possiby think of. The shoe smell so bad it almost made him pass out if he had a physical human body. He didn't believe it was even possible to literally be a sock, yet here he was on his coworker's foot. The insoles had been so worn in that he could tell that the shoes were worn very often. They reek of foot stench of years of use. He wanted to get away form the foul odor, but was powerless to do so.

Axel was mentally begging for mercy. He found feet to be disgusting. The worst torment in his mind was to be tied up and forced to smell another guy's foot. He saw that being turned into a sock was worse than that. He was trapped in as stench that smelled like rotten eggs and sour milk with no way of escape. The very foot kept him trapped in his shoe prison, which made him feel so degraded and humiliated. He would have rather the guy rat on them than this existence. The excruciating pain of being walked on made it unbearable in his mind. He was now just an object on his owner's foot. The fact that this would be for a whole week only to keep one secret made it not worth agreeing to this. He mentally pleaded for Trevor to change them back to normal. He didn't want to be a whole week on his foot.

THREE WEEKS LATER.....

Trevor relaxed in his office with his socked feet propped on his desk. He had been wearing the same pair of socks for the past three weeks. Someone had also noticed Landon and Axel smoking weed in the back lot and reported it to the manager two days after he had turned them into socks. Seeing how this would have been their third strike, their employment in the company would have been terminated anyway. At least as his socks, they still had a job. Their new job would forever be to comfort his feet and to absorb all his foot sweat and funk.

But Trevor did enjoy other uses for his living socks. They made good cum rags as well. He took advantage of that on multiple occasions over the past three weeks. He often thought about what his socks were feeling now that they were permanent footwear. Unfortnantly for them, he had erased their datat them moment he heard they were reported. There was no need to change them back to normal now. They were just better of as his dirty, smelly socks.

[alpaca-clouds]

Egyptomania in Europe

So, let me talk about Egyptomania in Europe, if we are already talking about Castlevania Nocturne and history. (Yes, I am very much using this trying to get y'all to learn a bit about history. Because the humanities are important, and history class in school does not really cover this stuff.)

Because, oh boy. While - as I said - technically the dates are not quite right (the Louvre did only open the Egyptian exhibit in 1802), Egyptomania absolutely started in the 18th century.

So, let me talk a bit about Egyptomania, and what kind of inappropriate shit European colonizers did with Egyptian mummies. Because, oh boy. You are in for quite some history there.

The 18th Century, or: "Those are some pretty pyramids, you have there."

The one thing you have to understand about Ancient Egypt is how something about that culture just seems to make sense to people. As I said in the essay on Drolta: Egyptian religion and culture had a ton of staying power. Like, no matter who took Egypt. The Greeks, the Romans... Anywhere they went, they tried to push their own culture onto the people there. Egypt? Yeah, they just started worshipping those gods. I don't know what it is about Egypt that connects so much with people. But there surely is something.

Now, in the 18th century there were several things that came together. Literacy was widely enough spread that for the first time in history people actually could make a living publishing novels. About a third of all men and a forth of all women in France could read by the beginning of the Revolution. And of course the Revolution later pushed for all children to be allowed to learn to read and write. And some of those novels included Egyptian mysticism.

At the same time coffee houses, political societies and secret societies became more popular and those also would include often some Egyptian symbolism. Our dear Americans might be aware of some prominent Egyptian symbolism on their money for examples, which is related to this.

Through this interest, there were a few first actual Egyptiologist starting to arise. Remember: At this time folks knew there were those pyramids, and a couple of graves and been found, but we knew very little about the actual culture, because we could not read hieroglyphics.

Now, there were some few Europeans academics, who at this time seriously engaged with the North African and Arab people, and among them were a handful of people who actually tried to find out more about Egyptian society in antiquity. But they by far were the minority. After all, this time was very racist, and very few saw Egypt as more as a source for mysticism.

However, then the end of the century came around and with it a certain Napoleon Bonaparte, who tried to take Egypt. For context, France and the Ottoman Empire had a shaky alliance through parts of the 18th century. But of course Napoleon broke that alliance, when he decided to invade Egypt for multiple reasons (partly access to the Red Sea and the Nile). He lost the battles that followed, and the Ottomans ended up striking an alliance with the English, but never the less: Napoleon brought back a lot of spoils from Egypt, and made sure those would be introduced into the Louvre in 1802.

And with this he started Egyptomania.

The 19th Century, or: "Do you want some mummy with your coffee?"

Now, the 19th century was kinda the perfect storm of circumstances, that lead to the actual Egyptomania. Because a variety of cultural aspects and historical circumstances lead to western people just getting enamored with this culture.

First of all there was the romanticism movement that started at the end of the 18th century, that was very concerned with beauty, and emotion, and the eternity of the soul. So those ideas that we even early kinda knew that the Egyptians had (they did make those mummies after all) were super interesting. Especially as the romanticism movement also had those ideas about magic and the paranormal, that both Egypt, as well as the "east" kinda played into in popular imagination. This is part of what sparked the whole Orientalism trend. (This is the moment I will tell y'all to just get yourself a copy of Edward Said's book "Orientalism". This really should be standard reading in my view.)

Second - and quite related to this - the mysticism and spiritualism movement got even stronger now. Especially in the second half of the 19th century the spiritualism movement really took over the zeitgeist. Just ask Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, who was pretty darn influential in this. And spiritualism just loved those Egyptian ideas of the afterlife and such. Especially after...

Third: Champollion managed to decipher hieroglyphics in 1823, and with this people suddenly could understand all those writing in those graves and on those papyri that we had found in the desert. And with that we had an understanding of the believe system of the Egyptians. And sure, those things I spoke about earlier today - about how religion shifted and such - was not well understood by the people back then. But they sure fucking loved what they heard about the Duat and the souls and such.

This all really created the perfect storm. No, not for people to have a respectful exchange with the Egyptian culture. What are you thinking? We are talking about 18th century white folks, after all. Some of them were okay, sure. But, in general we are talking about colonialist a-holes.

So, instead they started to look for those graves, treasures and art pieces from Egypt grabbing pretty much everything that was not nailed down. (And let's face it: Nailing stuff down made it harder to take, sure, but they still tried.) Jewelry, art pieces, both the fancy and less fantasy sarcophagi, and all those mummies. In fact mummies were such a popular item of merchandise at this time, that a whole fucking black market started to spring up around them, including people who figured out to make their own mummies. Partly by digging up graves and mummifying the bodies in there. Partly by more... direct means of acquiring dead bodies, if you get my drift.

And those fancy rich western folks sure loved their mummies. Things they would do with those mummies included:

Using them as medicine

Using them as food (yes, this very much qualifies as cannibalism) and as garnish for food

Sniffing them like drugs

Grinding them up to make oil colors with them (there was a color called "mummy brown" that indeed used fresh mummy)

Having fun "mummy unwrapping parties"

I hope, if you have not known this before, you flinched at least a bit at this. Because yeah, it is fucking disgusting - both on a hygienical level, as well as a moral level. And there is a good chance that some of those graves we found empty later on were indeed plundered to provide stuff for the black market during this time. While sure, there were absolutely folks who really started to figure out a lot of stuff about that ancient culture of Egypt, there is also stuff we will likely never know because so much stuff was stolen and then got lost. Some of it might to this day be in private collections, while other stuff truly is lost, after then being stolen during one of the world wars.

The 20th Century, or: "Oh wow, this one grave is actually still complete! Huh!"

The actual science started to get going more towards the end of the 19th century and then at the beginning of the 20th century. But again, this ran into the trouble of finding many graves that had already been robbed. While some of them had of course been robbed over the millennia since their inhabitants had been buried (people had interest in those jewels and what not during the antiquity and the middle ages, obviously). But some also had only been robbed recently due to the rising black market.

This is why we know Tutankhamun so very well, despite him being only Pharaoh for a very short time and not having done anything of note. The big thing about him is not what he archived in life, but the fact that he was one of the few tombs we found that were pretty much fully intact. So from that we learned a whole lot about how such a grave would usually be set up, because the grave had not been stripped for parts. (And yes, obviously the whole spooky story of the curse of the Pharaoh also played a big role in how well known Tut became.)

It was only towards the middle of the century and mainly due to the second World War that the brunt of the Egyptomania was letting off. People still were super fascinated by Egypt, sure, but they were no longer quite as obsessed with it as they had been before. And at least there were no more mummy-unwrapping parties, which I take as a plus.

Though it was only during the second half of the century that there was more critical reception of how Egypt had been plundered. And while it is still not ideal, I will say at least Egypt managed to enforce more of its ownership over her history, than a lot of the other colonized nations.

The main takeaway of this is: You all need to read Edward Said's book Orientalism. And colonial Europe was fucking weird.

[skimmingmilk]

Hi, thanks again for answering my first ask about Tails and Shadow and Sonic! Similar question here, do you have any headcanons/ideas/musings about Tails and Sharp that you can share? I love their dynamic in the Sharp Edges collection you wrote, and I'm a sucker for any Sonic Prime AU where Tails is the one who interacts with other versions of Sonic. Thanks!

Hi! No problem, I love answering questions where I can and talking things out :)

Ah! I'm so excited you want to know more about Sharp and Tails! :D That's so cool, thanks for being interested! I also really love Tails getting to interact with other versions of Sonic, so I'm happy to do my part to add to it <3

Sharp is (only a little) reluctantly following along with Tails's scheme under the guise that he just needs to make sure the kid keeps a low profile and doesn't end up back on Satine Rouge's radar while they're in Rogue's Row. He can't have his reputation damaged, after all, it's what allows him what little freedom he has to help people. But it's also exciting! Helping Tails on these missions gives him a boost of adrenaline that he's been kinda missing. And he doesn't even have to pretend to kill anyone!

The two of them are very similar to how Nine and Sonic are, they bond quick because they work well together and because Sharp is so similar to Sonic, just a little... sharper. They're also pretty snarky with each other, which they both enjoy, but Sharp will downplay Tails's accomplishments without remorse in a way Sonic would never. Sharp isn't as sensitive to striking an insecure nerve because he doesn't know it's there.

Tails can handle it for the most part, since he's a little more aware of Sharp not being Sonic than Sonic was of Nine not being Tails. He's taken aback occasionally by Sharp's bite, especially when it's anger that's directed at him. He can handle sarcastic quips and even the threats of violence (because he knows he won't follow through), but sometimes things get a little raw and feelings are hurt. But there's still so much Sonic in Sharp that Tails can't help but care about him. Just like it's so easy to forgive Sonic (almost annoyingly so), Tails forgives Sharp as naturally as breathing.

And Sharp's not used to that. It's every rogue for themselves where he's from. And while he's done his best to make sure others have a chance at a fresh start, no one's ever returned the favor. No one's ever cared.

So Sharp and Tails butt heads more than Sonic and Tails do, especially once they leave Rogue's Row to search for more of the prism shards. They're not completely in sync. Mostly because Tails believes Sharp can be more than what he lets himself, and Sharp doesn't want to be told who he is by someone who barely knows him. He also doesn't want to be responsible for anyone other than himself, but is frustrated by how easy it is to want to look out for this lost kid. And how much this kid's opinion of him matters. He tries to resist the attachment at first, but just like Nine found hope and happiness in Sonic, Sharp finds the same meaning in Tails. His bond with him opens him up to become someone that will eventually be the person Nine needs (and Nine's going to get a bit of an extra journey to complement that, too).

Tails will also get to interact with two other Sonics in that AU, too! Drift (from No Place) and Snare (from Boscage Maze), though Snare's name might still change... His bond with both of them is still special, too, but when they meet Sails and Mangey, they're able to bond with them much sooner than Sharp is able to bond with Nine. Sharp and Nine don't really connect until the very end of the adventure, since both of them are too attached to Tails and Sonic, respectively.

Sorry, this totally got away from me! I have so many feelings about my Prime AU and every intention to write more of it if I wasn't so behind on Picket Fence stuff. I'll leave a little snippet of Sharp and Tails chatting though as a treat <3 I can't remember if I've ever shared it before, so sorry if I have, but it takes place a bit after "Keep a Sharp Eye."

Tails sighed at his Prower Paradox Prism Position Predictor Mark 5 when it showed no sign of there being anything remotely like the energy signature of the Paradox Prism nearby. "It's gone." "Told ya it was still busted." Tails ignored him. "But my calculations were precise. Nothing else gives off any kind of energy readings remotely similar. Something had to have triggered it. Or at least had enough of a disruptive frequency to confuse the P.2.5.P." "Weird. Maybe it has something to do with the other you I just saw." Sharp cupped his chin, foot tapping thoughtfully. Tails's attention snapped to him so hard he nearly gave himself whiplash. "What?" "There was another you up in the trees. Right when your gizmo thing stopped working." Sharp twirled his index finger in the direction of the P.2.5.P. Tails gaped at him. "Why didn't you tell me?" "Well, it looked like he was kinda trying to kill you. Like everyone in this city," Sharp reminded him, an edge to voice befitting his name, before he leaned back with a shrug. "Thought it was better if you didn't know you were being actively sniped." Tails could still only stare at him slack-jawed. There were plenty of times Sonic had rendered him speechless over the years, but the dissonance of what he knew about these two versions of his best friend and all their other friends was thoroughly giving his processing capabilities a run for its money. He needed an aspirin. "I thought you said you'd never seen another me in this dimension?" Tails finally ground out. Sharp narrowed his own eyes at his tone. "I hadn't. You're the first you I've ever seen in my life. That guy up there was the second."

[hihigherdi]

When I was at the Al Brooks talk, I kept thinking about how much I loved writing when I was younger, when I first got here to San Francisco. I have so many stories from the different retail places I’ve worked – Nordstrom, Microsoft, where I am now - where I climbed and then fell off the corporate ladders year after year while going to therapy to deal with all of the personal stuff that the jobs surfaced

I might drop a few entries here of that old writing stuff as I think about what could be new.

Love is the Elixir

He came well recommended though he lived in the country. My friends and I share a prejudice regarding rural America, we’re too cynical to appreciate its undiscovered charms. Sure, we like the ponies and the idea of antiquing but when you haul that stuff back to the house? All you really have is an old busted up bench that’s really uncomfortable. Where I’m from, everybody knows that the best part of small towns is the hope that you’ll come across a rogue A&W so you can drink the perfect root beer float. As with most small towns, the road turned into more roads and suddenly, I was there.

You’d think a therapist’s office in the country would at least have some kind of white picket fence. Maybe one of those Desidrata welcome mats or a winsome little sign on a wooden door that said “We���re just two chickens clucking around”.

I’m nervous even writing this.

But instead I was greeted by a pasture filled with Longhorn cattle, the kind that seems to only live in Texas or a Chuck Norris film. You know – America. But seriously, Longhorn cattle? In my therapeutic experience? That was unexpected. I parked my little city slicker car so terribly out of place, wandered up to the fence and eye-balled a big male. It was a “he” based on the size of its…hooves. It lumbered over and eye-balled me right back.

Hello cow.

I knew he probably deserved a more majestic greeting but my whispered hi there was further indictment of why I was there in the first place (I had no opening lines with males of any kind).

I tentatively opened up the little country door to the little country house. A deafening wave of classical music coming from upstairs hit me square in the face from a room somewhere upstairs. It was the music that someone who had to sit on the other side of other peoples’ crazy needs to absorb between appointments. I felt guilty that we put him through it.

I waited in the obligatory little room where people like me wait. Leather-bound books and a cozy chair that felt like it had been born there. And a poster that simply read “Love is the Elixir of the Universe.” While I sunk into the chair and silently panicked, a little Corgi waddled her way inside. I stroked her back, admired her little belly and told her so. Feeling my heart slow just a little. Would I still have need of a therapist had I invested in a dog two years ago? What about a cat? A bird would have sent me there years earlier, I knew that much.

The music stopped. A disembodied voice cut through the silence and called for me without using my name. One part Indian, one part British all the rest of it weary. I’d been rejected by enough men to know he didn’t want me there which was fine, fuck you Mr.Tired Voice, I didn’t exactly want to be there either.

He was an old man. Surprisingly little. Glasses. Bare feet. God. Bare feet, come on.

He sat in his chair. I sat in the couch. He didn’t look at me, didn’t say hello. Just started writing on a note pad. We sat there for a good minute or two in total silence. If someone could have harnessed my nervous energy a few more polar bears would be alive today. Did you read the Wall Street Journal article suggesting that nervous energy is extremely productive? It can create things like biodegradable fuel that people outside of Berkeley actually care about and save animals that are extinct. Maybe you’re reading this, you’re smart enough to make that happen and you just haven’t because you’re nervous but you’re lazy. Do you feel badly now that you know you could have done something for the bears? If not you should, you really should.

Why are you here.

I’m here to let go of a relationship I never really had that may have wrecked me.

So you’re crazy then.

(Go to hell you elitist, classical music-listening, cotton shirt-wearing, creepy barefoot longhorn cattle-owning clearly height compensating narcissist.)

Well it feels that way sometimes. But I don’t want to be.

What happens if you really are wrecked.

At least I’ll know. That has to be good. It’s the not knowing that’s hard.

But don’t you already know?

(Jesus asked, Do you really want to get well?)

I suppose I do. I guess I want to be something more than wrecked from someone who should have never wrecked me in the first place.

Will you tell the truth?

Yes. (too quick)

…I don’t think I know how.

So you’re a liar.

(He SEES. Get out. Make him like you. But he won’t. He sees you.)

I don’t have much to lose so I guess I will. It’s weird how long it took to get here, how tightly one can cling to something that doesn’t even exist, that’s all in my head but false hope seems to be postponed grief. So yes, I’ll be honest. Maybe it’s easy to be honest when one is at the bottom of things.

Is that it?

Is what it?

Silence.

What are you afraid of most?

That I’ll charm you and you won’t be able to see me and I will leave with the relief of knowing that I’ve fooled you like I’ve fooled everybody else. And the despair of knowing that I did.

You know all that is up to you.

That’s what scares me the most.

It should.

I may not be ready for this. I may not be capable.

No one ever is. Isn’t that beautiful.

[feroshgirlsims]

Chapter 9.2 - 50 Shades of Enchantment

MIKO

Rich sims were weird—

—And a little fascinating.

Honestly, it was crazy to wear a $950 simoleon blouse to work, wasn’t it? And did the sims of Glimmerbrook really need a fake apothecary to sell them inert potions and herbs to solve problems that were probably mostly in their minds?

Not that Miko was supposed to be thinking about all this, mind you. She was supposed to be listening to her manager, Gemma Charm, explain how the mixing station worked.

“Are you sure you have experience?” Gemma asks hesitantly.

Miko was sure she’d spent three summers working at Body Oils and Bath Stuff before the Newcrest location closed down. And there was no way mixing fake herbal concoctions was  more advanced than restocking shelves with cheap-smelling shampoos and lotions. “Absolutely. You really don’t have to worry about me. All of this is old hat.”

Gemma nods, ��Good. You came highly recommended, and we really need the extra help. Election season politics are sort of running our family’s whole life right now.” She rolls her eyes. “My brother really should be the one helping, but, well, you get it.”

Alice always said her father campaigned year round, so that must be what Gemma was talking about. “I’m just here on a student visa, so I don’t vote, but I think it’s important. I’m just glad to help.”

“You don’t vote?” Gemma gasps. “But it’s compulsory. And anyone with an ancient bloodline or a unique power differential is eligible for the seat, so it would be crazy just to sit it out.”

Compulsory voting? Bloodlines? Windenburg politics sounded Byzantine as shit. Miko used to think she wanted to live here after graduation, but now? It would be a relief to get back Sim Nation West and elect her officials based on normal stuff like half-hearted promises to end corruption and lower tax rates.

“Oh, uh, I don’t really care about that stuff…should we talk about the register?”

Gemma is not content to let the subject drop. “That’s a terrible attitude, Miko. What about your bloodline? Were both your parents casters?”

Thankfully, a customer walks in and saves Miko from having to answer that completely bananas question. Did Gemma mean newscaster? What in the hell about Miko and her half-priced Urbz jeans projected “child of sims who are on TV”?  

Mystified, but curious to learn what kind of crazy shit sims bought from this shop, she listens as Gemma greets their customer and launches into a wholly bizarre conversation about the Full Moon’s effect on mandrakes. 

The woman is nodding along, dressed in what is conservatively a $3000 simoleon outfit. She doesn’t even flinch when Gemma informs her about the price of this year’s crop—$250 simoleons a pound. 

What would it be like to have that kind of money?

“I’ll need a Potion of Good Fortune,” the woman adds. “We want to put an addition onto the house and could use a little more money.”

“Of course,” Gemma smiles, “Miko can help you.” She turns back and gives Miko an encouraging look.

“Happy to help!” Miko says, her smile so wide it feels like her face might crack open.

PREV | NEXT

(Part 2 of 8)

New to the story and want to catch up quickly? Click here.

If you prefer long-form, you can read this on my WordPress here.

[i-like-forcefem]

so i know this guy and he's very cute,, and i kinda wanna forcefem him, but don't know where to start 🥺🥺

/hj

Awwww that’s wonderful!!!

Well one of my favourite techniques is by allowing the target plausible deniability for dressing up

Maybe do a bet and the loser has to wear this dress Or maybe make it real ambiguous and reveal the dress part later

Or maybe make a bigger social event where everyone dresses so cutely so you might as well join in

Be kind, be accepting and patient, love every single step “he” takes and be very vocal about your encouragements

Truly love bomb “him”, make “him” associate feminity with happiness (if that association isn’t there already), make every step made “wonderful and lovely and you’re doing so great and I’m so so proud of you and I just want to gobble you up and and and” don’t give “him” any time to doubt

“He” is adorable and you’re so so so glad “he” is letting you do “his” nails, you know this color would fit so so well, and regardless of how well painted the nails are, they do add so much and make “him” look so good, and we should really try purple next!

That’s another crucial step, once you make progress don’t let it go

You paint his nails? Wonderful! If they get chipped and “he” asks how to remove it als to it for “him and instantly apply a new color

“He” let you do some basic makeup? Make “him” feels so so pretty and set a time next week when we can try the different mascara! And maybe even dress up a little to match the make up!

“He” puts on a skirt for you? Well it’s gorgeous it fits so so well it’s really “his” color! And maybe just take it with you? And if not let’s go clothes shopping next week! I know this lovely second hand store where we can get you so many beautiful clothes for cheap! It’d be a shame if you didn’t own at least one skirt yourself!

And, I kind of forgot what I was saying there! Just get “him” to agree to one minor point, make “him” feel so so loved for it, and always set up the next point, which can be either more of the same or an escalation, but never give her time to doubt, herself always pin down a “next-time” for her to look forward to, and always make her feel so so loved for showing up every time!

People aren’t nearly vocal enough about how they feel towards those closest to them! Be the exception!

[reticent-fate]

part 2/26? (might be restructuring uploads so it might be 27 parts instead. dw about it.)

from the beginning

inspired by the whole genre of otherkin hrt comics (obviously, i just forgot to mention it in the body of the first part)

[todayisafridaynight]

I’m fairly new to the fandom, but I do have a question if you can answer it! Why do people ship Daigo with Aoki / Masato? I tried looking to see if they’ve interacted before, but couldn’t find anything! Sorry for asking I’m just </3 dumb AND I LOVE YOUR ART OF THEM!!! Nerd looking ahhhhhh

hi ! welcome to the community i hope you're having a lovely time so far and ty for enjoyin my stuff :) no need for apologies it's a very fair question to have :]

i cant speak for everyone (all. ten people into masadai anyway) but Personally To Me i just think the idea of them together is very funny. thats quite literally it im afraid..

[cakemoney]

i don't want to put my uninformed foot in my mouth or get involved with the Discourse but i've been seeing the two extremes of reactions to the korean low birth rates issue (on tumblr and twitter both) and i'm just kind of like. look. i feel like "low birth rates (in many countries but especially japan and korea as part of this conversation) are more broadly the result of capitalism/a culture of overwhelming overwork that makes social relationships and having families incredibly inaccessible to young people" and "low birth rates are very much a part of the current conversation about misogyny and social expectations for women in korea especially in the context of reproduction as 'unpaid labor' for women" are statements that can both be true

[dragonji]

have to be honest guys its actually going Really Badly again.

[shikai-the-storyteller]

I somehow didn't catch this during all the chaos from that day but I'm rewatching Forever's conversation with Vegetta, and Vegetta told him: "You're a good person, and a good person knows what their mistakes are. You're a good boy. It's not going to happen again."

[letmetellyouaboutmyfeels]

The I feel like she sees me line being said to Eddie who is the person that truly sees Buck for all that he is. Are we supposed to take this line at face value which would indicate piss poor writing because they needed to rush to a horrible ending or do we take it as Buck being an unreliable narrator? What was the audience supposed to interpret from Buck saying that, were we truly supposed to believe him or we supposed to be pissed at Buck for saying this to the one person that truly sees Buck?

Good morning to me, I guess.

I'm assuming you haven't really seen people's reactions in the fandom on tumblr because I feel like I saw this said in quite a few posts going around, but you are absolutely not supposed to take this line at face value. I'm surprised that people think you should. 9-1-1 has from the beginning had a habit of turning friendships into romantic relationships (Bathena and Madney) and taking their time with these things rather than having an instalove situation. Even Karen and Hen, who meet when they're set up on a date together, don't instantly fall in love. I do not think they would set Eddie or Buck up for an endgame relationship with a woman by having them date that woman immediately, even if they didn't plan to make Buddie canon.

Buck is clearly struggling post-death. He's lost and once again looking for the answer from a romantic partner. He did a lot of growth in regards to his family relationships this season but not his romantic ones. Remember, his couch ended up destroyed and he asked his latest girlfriend to pick the new one out for him. Again. He's still not picking his own damn couch. After being unable to sleep on the one his mom gave him but passed out instantly on Eddie's where he ran to feel safe.

If people think this is all, somehow, an accident or the writers are doing this without knowing what they're doing, then I can't help you. Do you also think the symbolism I put into my fanfics are a total accident? Do you guys think I picked the name of the poem "Fuchsia Emerald Alizarin Rose" just because the colors are fun and they accidentally spell out F.E.A.R. or do you think maybe I did that absolutely 100% on purpose and was waiting for someone to realize?

Buck saying that to Eddie is 100% supposed to make the audience raise their eyebrows. Especially when we see Eddie's reaction. He's confused and he's hurt and he's annoyed. Eddie then spends his next few lines showing Buck (and us) that he sees Buck. Buck misses it, it goes right over his head, but the audience is shown that Buck is wrong and Eddie sees him.

I think there was a lot of internal stuff going on behind the scenes way high up the ladder that meant Buddie didn't happen this season. No, I don't mean that in a tinhatting way, I just mean that they knew Fox wouldn't renew them, they didn't know if they'd get picked up somewhere else, Fox hasn't promoted or cared about this show the way it has its other shows in a while, and I think it's pretty clear there was shuffling and changes going on with 6B. So I think things had to be put off. Similar to the pandemic, where I genuinely wonder what kind of season four we would've gotten if we'd had the full 18 episodes and hadn't had to work around Covid. I think that when we know there was a big shift going on behind the scenes, we need to have some grace and patience in how that will effect the story that's told on screen.

But I think that this default to "everything good we see on our screens is an accident and the writers are making shitty choices" is a horrible bad faith argument, and it's exhausting. Aren't you exhausted? I'm exhausted. Fandom shouldn't treat the writing and production team like their enemies any more than the writing and production team should treat the fans like their enemies in some kind of war they have to win (looking at you, GoT showrunners).

We are supposed to be annoyed that Buck is missing the point. We are supposed to see Buck's yearning to be a husband and a father, and how he's missing what's right in front of him. We are supposed to put two and two together and see that Eddie was hurt by Buck's words, that Eddie sees Buck, that Eddie is Buck's safe place, and that Eddie in that moment decided he might not have a chance with Buck and needs to move on, because previously we saw Eddie admit he wants romance again but he doesn't want to go out on dates, we saw his aunt say she met her husband through work, we saw him say 'we have time' and then we saw him immediately after Buck tells him about this new girl who "sees him" flee to visit his mother and then immediately actually try dating. On a meta level this is also because Eddie needs confidence in himself as a romantic partner and needs some more experience under his belt before he's ready to take the plunge with Buck, but in Eddie's mind, I think it's pretty clear he feels Buck will never want him back and he's trying to find the love he wants somewhere else, even if his heart is still Buck's.

So that's what I think. I think it's not explicitly spelled out for a few reasons, but frankly if one of them was a woman we wouldn't need it explicitly spelled out and personally I kinda like that it's not. Something that annoys me with M/F pairings is the constant "we all know you two like each other" talks from third parties that half the time aren't about the characters but are about the audience, to either tell the audience SEE THEY LIKE EACH OTHER THAT'S WHAT THIS IS ABOUT or to give the audience some fanservice while the characters aren't ready to get together. I don't need to be pandered to that way, thank you, so I'm a fan of the slightly more subtle approach that I, personally, see going on with Buddie.

If you or anyone else disagrees with me and feels it was just "piss poor writing" then that's entirely your right. I'd just appreciate it if people who feel that way would stop watching the show, and stop putting their complaints into the inboxes of people who clearly do enjoy the show.

TL;DR - You answered your own question, Buck is an unreliable narrator (and always has been) and we are supposed to be frustrated he said this to Eddie who has proven time and again (and does so in that very scene) that he sees Buck.