#i wanted to think about like. a point of entry that felt fresh to me

[thatshitkrejci]

And it feels good to be known so well I can't hide from you like I hide from myself I remember who I am when I'm with you Your love is tough, your love is tried and true-blue the record | boygenius (2023) my favorite albums of 2023 zine | all images CC0 | click for hq

[thoughtpeek]

I'VE FINALLY FINISHED BROTHERSHIP IT WAS SOOOOO GOOD!!!!!!!

[plasticfangtastic]

Dairy Girl-- Part 2

A Homelander x F! Reader fanfic

A/N: Sorry for taking so long to post this and hope the lenght is enough of an apology, yeah this is gonna be liek 4 parts i got too engrossed btw. hope yall like it here's the previous chapter:

Synopsis: In order to provide a constant supply of fresh breastmilk for Vought’s number one hero, Vought has had to get quite nifty in order to prevent this secret desire out the press and the public– you have unfortunately discovered the truth.

Tags: Stockholm Syndrome, abusive dynamic, Homelander being Homelander, dub-con, dark, mild smut, breastfeeding kink, kidnapping, child-death mention tw, cheating tw, set in s4 but canon nothing, slow burn.

word count: 3.4K

Part 2– Calf

As he’d mentioned before the house was an escape proof cage– every window had its hinges super glued or welded shut, glass panels thick enough to prevent shattering but thin enough to allow sound in. That night as he’d left you for the first time you kept your composure, perturbed more by the earlier events that nothing had time to sink in, you venture across the 3 bedroom home, each room old taken straight out from a vintage furniture catalog, the master bedroom smelled just like your grandmother’s, the bathroom walls covered in tacky pink tiles that you told yourself will never get used to.

By the time you explored the whole building you understood the following: The size felt deceiving, without a way to see the outside this building could’ve been 35 floors high and you wouldn’t know, the east-wing of the building at the opposite direction where you’d emerged was cut off from you by a thick metal door, an eye-scan request made its unpickable lock, looking at how it cut on the hardwood floors you’d guess this is where in the kitchen and perhaps the garage and entry hall could be found, this overall felt like an architectural nightmare, the only other oddity of this was the piles and piles of bottled water– Vought branded water… you much rather drink Dasani than this crap… It was by far the worst one in the supermarket.

There were indeed no phones or even ethernet ports on the wall, the TV was bolted in its place and so was the VHS player (and all the furniture too), there were at least 350 titles on the walls (something you bothered to count on day 5), an extremely old vinyl player your only other company... whoever had supposedly lived here was a big fan of Cab Calloway, ABBA and Bruce Springsteen, here you and Bruce could become intimate friends it seems after all you had all his vinyls, alongside an expansive jazz assortment, nothing in this selection went past 1989.

You also learned a very useful fact on day 3 you stared at one of the 18 cameras that you’d found.

“I really want some Mcnuggets! Like just a 12-pack and a large Sprite! Maybe an Oreo Mcflurry too!” You yelled into the camera waving your arms as if the circular lense would reply somehow.

Barely few minutes later the air was filled with the roaring sounds of a bike burning tires seemed the forbidden end faced some road which made you giddy, about 50 minutes later a small door at the door itself opened smoothly where the first strange hand you’ve seen in the last 3 days popped-out leaving a bag with a familiar logo… it wasn’t maccas tho, it was Vought-a-burger which was okay but that wasn’t the point, you picked your meal and your oversize ice-cream and drink and begun connecting lines– Your prison was in Pennsylvania, based on the area code on the phone number on that old pizza box, located close enough from both a pizza chain and on a 15 to 20 minutes drive from a Vought-a-Burger, the library held no maps for you to try to find your location but give or take about an hour or two by foot from any civilization… Yet as you drank the mostly melted caramel churro sundae you smiled thinking of how to steal a bike.

That Night you picked two tapes from the wall not caring one bit about what you were going to see, you stared at the camera.

“Hey can one of you check like an underrated 80s movie list from IMDb ‘cuz I seen a few of these already… at least bring me something new!” 

As always no response was ever given, you dragged your feet towards that ornate bedroom of yours, pink walls, flowery quits, a matching chaise lounge, a hardwood coffee table bolted to the ground and your private TV and VHS player, it took you an hour to remember how to use these thing that second day here. You put on a movie, curling in your bed in the dark, smelling the sweet flowery smell of fabric softener, this didn’t smell like home, pillows too soft, mattress too soft everything here was made to bring you comfort but it was making you feel like a squatter.

The cold light of the screen enveloped every surface and you slowly faded away as ‘Lady in White’ began to wrap up, eyes glued to the screen so firmly you screamed when the faint red light peeked from the corner, clutching the quilt across your body as the red faded away and all you saw was a vaguely illuminated shape.

Blurry colors with no clean shapes, standing facelessly enough blue to let you see it was humanoid, Homelander creeped closer, his body blocking the light and like a shadow he devours everything, he turned around to pause the player, draping his gloves on the dumb box as he turned around once more, your heart caught in your throat, each breath quick and sharp as he took another step closer, hushing softly and he’s there swallowing you whole he kneeled into the bed the mattress squeaked and chimed sinking under his weight pulling you in, only the faint outline of gold eagles and soft blonde locks told you with absolute certainty that he was here… that 3 days ago you indeed met The Homelander, far from the pretty blue-eyed hunk from the movies more ghoul.

You swallowed as his head rested on the pillow next to your hips, his nose burying in the cushioned pillowcase.

“I was busy with work” He mumbles softly, staring at you with the same playfulness of a guilty pet owner who’d ran out of their cat's churu treats– "I promise to visit, I got you something… left it downstairs for you.” 

He stared at your white knuckled hands and without uttering a word you understood his demands, fingers moved by psychic force alone, you welcomed him into your lap as you came undone, burying your digits into his hair, soft like cotton, so smooth you dreamt of cat’s bellies as you scratched him, he took the remote from under you lifting you with so much ease your brain struggled to compute it at first, the movie played and all he wanted was petting.

“Security told me you’ve been good… nothing crazy… am glad, "he said with a tired tone.

“What good would that do me…?” You replied with your eyes focused on the screen.

If you wanted to survive I had to get on his good side, no? you though

“I like it when you people understand your place” He chuckles softly.

‘You people’? You could easily discern the meaning behind his words by tone alone, your finger stopped suddenly, his eyes flaring up immediately.

“I think this would be more productive if you told me exactly what’s going on… I won’t try to run or scream… am just confused and scared…” you spoke bluntly as his gaze met yours in the dark.

“This is my private speakeasy and you’re the bartender… tap too… is hard being on top… and I want some relief… and a sanctum–

“To express your socially unacceptable inclinations/interests? Fair enough I can imagine the press would eat you alive if they found out you liked breastmilk.”

“You’re cute and smart too.” He pushed himself into your stomach, your body sinking to the shape he wanted, holding you tight– I’ll be a good owner and let you asks me absolutely anything you want”

“Why me?”

“Dunno.” His lips tightened into a flat line– the doctors picked you, I asked for a good provider… but all the women downstairs and you did have one thing in common” He sounded awkward as he spoke listening to your increasing heartbeat– you kept producing… I asked to have easy access to my treat but somebody downstairs came out with all of this” his hand lazily gestures around– bit extra I know.”

How simple, he didn’t even care about this to begin with, glaring at him gave you no answers or comfort.

“My family…?”

“They think you killed yourself, I've been told… your ex-hubby been on twitter acting holier than the virgin mary, absolutely devastated for likes” You bit your lips, face scrunching up ready to shout and cry– everybody suspects he murdered you even the cops”

“I'm going to kill him!!” Your tears flowed regardless – god fucking dammit!”

Your whole body rejected the news, twisting your stomach and filling you with needles

“How would you do it?”

“Bash his head in with a hammer…?? I don’t know but fuck him! I wasted 5 years of my life with that bastard!” You cried.

Homelander buried his face into your stomach, hiding the smile on his face. as you cursed outloud for a little bit, he paid no attention to your words.

“Sorry…” You cleaned your tears trying to stop this embarrassing display, the mere thought of him acting like he cared made you sick when he wouldn’t even come to his own son’s funeral– are you gonna hurt me?” you cleaned your nose against the pillow.

He moved so quickly before you knew it he’s face to face and even in this dark room only lit by rolling credits he appeared serene as a painting… It makes your blood run cold.

“Why would I hurt my comforter?”

That night he only slept for a couple hours, never moving from your stomach, holding you regardless, he snored softly, mumbling half-spoken words, lips twitching and brows furrowing, you petted him gently watching his hardened frown melt.

Some days he’d come once, others he’d come five times and then there were the days were you didn’t see him at all, leaving you awkwardly aware about how odd these exchanges felt… for it never felt truly sexual, your fears of molestation and ‘real’ assault dissuaded as you accepted that all this man was doing was come here to whine and bitch about work and suck on your titty– like right now, Homelander has been shouting, talkign so much shit about his coworkers you started to wonder if it was made up for nobody could certainly be that allegedly incompetent, about how stressful it was to do 20 plus media interviews all day, about hoq\w his latest film “Justice Serve” was a fucking nightmare already despite being only half-way thru pre-production.

“Do you even know what it's like to deal with idiots who think they’re better than you because they have an award!?” He put your nipple back in his mouth with a frown– who does Villeneuve think he is” He mumbled into your skin.

Yet he didn’t only bring petty grievances and thirsty lips– he showered you with gifts, perfumes you couldn’t pronounce filled with soft fragrances: sweet but not sugary, warm tones without too much spice. Brought you beauty products to pamper you… to watch you play with from the many cameras in the house, and dressed you like a doll in clothes you honestly wouldn't have bought in the first place, too flowery and tradwifey.

You did so with a fake smile, you’d be pretty for him if you must, keep your tongue in-check and swallow the ever increasing knot in your throat for he at least wasn’t loud towards you, he didn’t yell, he didn’t make scenes… you were just living like his newest pet.

His miniature cow standing in the living room instead of the evergreen pastures outside, VHS tapes and steel food trays made your fence.

You keep busy cleaning this house making stories of who had lived there, Bruce the only one who spoke to you.

Analysing the house inch by inch, there had to have been a spot they’ve missed you kept thinking, you figured that somehow they monitored your sleep cycle, only entering to remove dirty clothes and trash in the death of night, they knew if you were obviously awake, on day 14 you stayed up till around 5 am and not a peep was heard accross the house but as you woke past noon all your trash had been cleaned up, on day 16 you stayed awake all day felt sick passed out and same thing, you would find a way out, you would force them to take you out, all the furniture was glued in its post but if you had to cause a fire you fucking would… as you stared at your clean bedsheets you figure you could force them to come in and drag you outside but as you postulated the possibility of a faux-suicide attempt Homelander’s face flashed accross closed eyes– dare dissapointing him and lose all the goodwill you’d been building, trust, even presents more extravagant than anything your ex ever did.

Had he not kidnapped you, hold you against your will in an underground bunker, used you as a milk fountain and terrified the fuck out of you with his invisible steps in the middle of the night you would had found him charming… endearing even… at least he was still handsome… frightening but handsome.

Day 18-19-20 were the worse so far, days went by and your isolation only grew he had not come by, your meals delivered so quietly you missed them and found them cold, birds either too loud or gone but Homelander never came, every hour the anxiety only grew as you found your throat aching to speak with somebody other than a non-present 80s musician.

You made a stack of the movies you’ve seen yelling to the camera demanding more to watch, abandoning the cause to focus on the obscene collection of Danielle Steel books in the library… at least 30 books, at least it was a distraction as you woke up for the third day in a row without hearing from Homelander. 

You talked to yourself, prettier views didn’t make up for human interaction, you had isolated yourselves before… you didn’t eat, shower, answer calls, simply left yourself to rot in your bed, sinking deeper and deeper into your mattress, the calm heartbeat of the machine keeping you alive until the phone battery died, now here you were curling in the couch feeling that endless void inside you screaming back at you, nothing to distract you from it any longer.

How ironic that those days locked in the basement had been the firsts since the funeral that you’d hadn’t thought about it.

Now every sleep came with dreams of distant cries, empty halls that cooed back, and a sense of urgency as time slipped from underneath you, nothing here smelled like him, yet in your sleep you held your pillow as you once held him, swearing it smelled like him, in the silence the singing birds sound like babies, but there’s nothing but creaking floorboards, old pipes and foreign ghosts in this place.

In this endless silence your mind told you this was limbo, jazz solos disguised the pandemonium of a silent afterlife, but as your heart anguished once again you buried yourself in paltry distractions, reading out loud as to keep your vocal chords warm and delude yourself that there was some company in here, mostly to hide the nonexistent crying.

It took you by surprise when half way thru ‘The Ghost’ you heard the buzzing of the steel door, your ears perked up stretching your neck before falling into the floor, shaky knees picked you up once more with a brave kick, quick steeping into the living room– Homelander stood staring at the messy pile talking to the camera to have this sorted and for the first time since you’d been here you sawn another human, who answered his call almost immediately, a man in kevlar rushed in his gun bouncing on his back alongside a young man dragging an ikea bag.

“Homelander!” Your voice was hoarse but he still turned to smile at you.

“We got you some new movies Ms. L/N” The young man spoke dropping the bag with a heavy thud.

“Watch it!” Homelander growled and you saw a slight stain dribble down his pants– just go wait in the library kitten while these ones sort this out for you.” 

Your feet moved anyways, too excited by the presence of new faces, had he not cleared his throat you would’ve said anything just to make sure this wasn’t a dream, you looked away and that big steel door was wide open, an armed guard by the exit tho… it was an office, painted white with cool fluorescent lights. 

Run, the voices scream.

Run.

For fucks sake run!!\

but...

You stay still.

It’s a test. Run and die, run and he’d snap your spine in thirds before you understand what happened your brain would be separated from your cranium no doubt, you swallow and take a step back, slow heavy agonizing steps lead you to the library.

Homelander’s gaze softens as he watches you sit by the unlit fireplace, he follows you soon after leaving the staff to work behind, you lift your head with a stiff neck, your tongue swollen inside your mouth, he smiles gently dropping to your level, carrying a small box.

The pretty bow doesn’t catch your attention in the least.

Not that dashing smile and ever so blue eyes either.

He tickles your nose without touching.

Chamomile and oat, a pale scent, subtle and clean…

As he scoot closer to you urging you to take the meaningless box held by nude hands, he pets your chin, leaving you to catch nutty tones… his hands smell of almond oil and cream.

He’s talking as he guides your hand into opening the present but you aren’t hearing a single word spoken… all you care about is his aroma…it invides you carving an aching hollow chest, making you dizzy and the world is squeezing your whole body with a thousands of pounds of violent force but you’re still held in one piece, wrapping your neck with the necklace he’d got you, touching every exposed inch leaving traces of sweet almond on you, resting his chin on your stiff shoulder so close whispering sweet nothings to you… hair smells so creamy… milky coconut, it makes you ill– You could name every brand he wore if asked.

“You like it?” He asks into your neck.

‘Like’ what? You guessed he meant the necklace.

“Where have you been?” You asked, wanting to think of anything but that bitter scent.

He pushes you down into the carpet, your hair drapes everywhere so he moves it to give himself no chance to pull it, you can’t even argue but your surprise and discomfort still paints your face, before you can say anything he drops his head on your stomach, nuzzling your dress and pulling your hand towards his head.

“I don’t want to talk about it” his muffle words sound angry, he whined into your stomach a quiet order demanding affection.

Obeying orders before he could whined even more for now you wanted silence again.

Staying like this for as long as he needed, leaving you to speculate what brought him such distress that caused him to abandon you as a result, a part of you stared in awe as you realized you how long this man could stay still without making a sound for.

How long did you lay there in a shared repose that your eyes shut? you wondered as the orange glow of afternoon sun warmed your cheeks, his hand cleaned a falling tear off your face as you woke up with a headache.

“Had a nightmare?”

Your hand unconsciously pulled him close to you, burying his face under your chin he’d awkwardly smiled as he adjusted to your demands, talking to you but it was white noise, your kept him still bridging an arm across his neck locking him in position, your other hand buried in blond, closing your eyes as you got high on shampoo.

In your mind much like your dream you hold him so close, he was plump and giddy, his hair more than a thin tuff, you laughed with him, as you dried his back, you swore to never love the scent of coconut, you held back your pain as you held him with all your might.

“I don’t want to talk about it…”

[ineffable-suffering]

Why Aziraphale is an unreliable narrator

Part 2: The Story of wee Morag

This is Part 2 of 3 total metas. Here are:

Part 1, in case you want to read about my analysis of the Story of Job first

and Part 3, in case you're impatient and want to jump ahead.

Fair warning though, for the sake of understanding some of the references, you're probably better off reading this chaptered meta chronologically. However, every part should work just as well as a standalone! I'll do my very best to make it so.

Alright, off or on you go beyond the cutty cut!

I'll start this second part off with a very brief summary of the main take aways and points from Part 1, which go as such:

Memory, as opposed to a third party's narration, is not a factual, objective retelling of a story or event. It's mingled and mangled with emotions, imaginations and exaggerations, projecting both the feelings and impressions you had back then as well as those you might have now in the present time back on whatever it is you are remembering. (Which is why we need to put everything that Aziraphale is remembering into the context of what he might have felt in the past, as well as what he's feeling right now.)

While this doesn't mean his (or anyone's) memories are lies, it does mean they're a very subjective and sometimes factually distorted representation of what actually happened, which, in our case, gives us a lot of subtext and a lot of not-there furniture to figure out and look at.

So, let's continue with S2E3 and the Story of wee Morag. We start our flashback with a scene of Aziraphale writing his diary entry on the 10th of November, 1827. Immediately, it's firmly established that this is once again not an outside-point-of-view narration, but rather what Aziraphale remembers and wrote down.

One thing that immediately stuck out to me here, is how helpful and kind Crowley is to Elspeth, pretty much from the very beginning when they meet her in the graveyard. Not only does he take on a Scottish accent so she won't perceive him as English (as she does with Aziraphale), but he also helps her drag the barrel that has the fresh body in it and, in the end, even pulls it all by himself while Elspeth simply follows behind them. Here's a rather poor-quality picture, for reference:

Now, we know that despite not showing it very often, Crowley has always been very fond of the humans and never really put himself on a pedestal simply because he's an immortal being himself. He likes humans, just like Aziraphale does. But, just like this story will tell us, Crowley knows that on top of liking humans, you can't just put them into boxes of good and evil and expect them to always do what is supposedly the "right" or "divinely good" thing to do. (Which is what differentiates him from Aziraphale in the way he understands and treats them, as we're shown in this minisode).

Him immediately and unspokenly helping Elspeth with dragging the barrel therefore might also be a first sign of a tiny projection from present day Aziraphale, as opposed to what Crowley might have actually done (probably just walked beside her, like Aziraphale) because he has the knowledge that Crowley really was so very kind to her in the end, wasn't he? And that he's kind to humans in general. ("Not kind! Off my head on Laudanum!" Sure, babe.)

Most of this minisode, in my opinion, is actually there to establish how Aziraphale's view of morality and good vs. evil used to be quite flawed and elitist –– and how Crowley has always been there to gently nudge him towards questioning his black and white view of heavenly right and hellishly wrong. That's why I think there's not as many hints in this minisode about Aziraphale's memories not being an accurate portrayal of what happened, as there are in the Story of Job or the magic show in 1941. (And, fear not, the latter will definitely be the most hint-heavy one). Alas, there's still a few bits and bobs in the Story of wee Morag that stuck out to me, that make a brief yet good case of the whole unreliable narration thing.

First of all: The way Aziraphale describes all of it in his diary is so different from the way we see him actually remembering it. It's almost like he tried to write this entry (and possibly all of his diary) as a bit of a thrilling short story, with himself as the main character. Which makes sense, given the fact that he adores books and would certainly be keen on dabbling in the art of capital-w Writing himself. It's yet again hinting at the fact that sometimes people (and angels) try to polish and bedazzle stories (and memories) to make them seem more exciting and adventurous, often to distract from the not-so-fun parts of it.

Like when Aziraphale's diary narrates:

"It was with heavy heart we arrived at Elspeth's destination. I was determined to thwart her monstrous plan!"

... and yet we see Crowley and Elspeth casually walking down the alleyway, very obviously not heavy-hearted in the slightest, while Aziraphale nervously scurries on behind them, very obviously not determined to thwart. (Timestamp-wise, it's around 17:38 in S2E3, in case you want to see for yourself.)

We get another cinematographic/auditory hint at the fact that Aziraphale's memory is heavily influenced by what he's feeling that very moment, when Dr. Mister Dalrymple –– FRCSE, thank you very much –– shows him the tumor he removed from the seven year old boy. You can see the shock and horror on Aziraphale's face once he learns of this child's cruel fate. We then proceed to hear Mr. Dalrymple's voice grow sort of echo-y and far away as the sad music swells up and drowns out his voice almost completely. It's awfully similar to what it feels like when really horrible news are broken to you and you dissociate and drift into a state of shock. Here's the clip of it, so you may listen for yourself:

It's clear that this is a very subjective portrayal of what Aziraphale is going through during this part of the memory. He's deeply horrified and saddened about the little boy having passed away so early in life – and we hear and feel this shock with him. Through him, because this is his memory. Whatever it is he's feeling and thinking, we're feeling and thinking it too because we're seeing it through his lense.

Another (less sad) hint at a possible exaggeration is the abnormally deep hole Crowley makes the two graveyard watch keepers fall into. I'm pretty sure he's very much in charge of his miracles, making this random slip-up seem a little silly – which is why I'm also pretty sure the "Might have slightly overdone it on that hole" is a wee bit of a meta hint at this just being another one of Aziraphale's dramatic bedazzlements of this story. For the *flings feather boa around neck* drama!

You know what else might be exaggerated? Hm, I dunno, maybe Crowley growing into the size of a tree for no apparent reason. Sure, yes, he's pretty high on Laudanum which is making him a bit loopy. But apart from that, it does seem an awfully big cinematographic euphemism for him being the metaphorical (and, once again, for the drama of it) literal bigger person in this scenario. He's the one who ends up saving Elspeth and who manages to secure a safe life without poverty and grave robbing for her. While Aziraphale was so tangled up in his own moral journey and main character-ism, missing that wee Morag was seconds away from death already, Crowley is the one who actually ends up growing stepping up for the human in need and saving them for good (pun intended).

In a way, it might just be Aziraphale's view of/feelings for Crowley in this very moment. Watching the demon outgrow what, according to Aziraphale's heavenly logic, is supposed to be a foul fiend, bestowing evil upon humanity – and growing into someone who does the exact opposite and saves Elspeth instead. Another larger-than-life character development, in Aziraphale's eyes. Literally.

Let's switch back to the topic of the diary entry one last time, so I can make my final point of the this minisode's unreliable and a smidge over-dramatic narration of Dr. McFell. If you pay close attention, Aziraphale starts the entry we're all getting to experience with: "Last month, Crowley and I both happened to be in Edinburgh." Which means it didn't actually happen on the 10th of November, but rather at some point in October, 1827. Once we see Crowley get hydro-pumped back to Hell after rescuing Elspeth, the minisode ends with, presumably, the last sentence of Aziraphale's diary entry: "And that was the last I would see of Crowley for quite some time."

Take my hand and let's look at where the furniture isn't: This very clearly means that Crowley couldn't have been gone for more than a month, at best. Read again: "It happened last month and that was the last I would see of him for quite some time." This, albeit indirectly, clearly implies that when Aziraphale had sat down to write the diary entry, he had already run into Crowley again. Otherwise his phrasing would have probably been more along the lines of "... and I haven't seen Crowley since" or "... and Crowley has yet to return from wherever it is Hell's currently keeping him".

What's the point I'm trying to make? Good question. I guess my main point of storyteller Aziraphale being a bit over-dramatic in his narration is simply backed up by this, since A Single Month would barely pass as "quite some time" for an immortal being like him. And yet that's how he puts it, in his little Confidential Journals of A.Z. Fell, Vol. 603.

And another point that has absolutely nothing to do with the topic of this meta (but I'm still gonna make it 'cause this is my memory post): The meeting at St. Jame's Park in 1862 that so many, post-S2, took to be their first run-in after the Story of wee Morag, actually wasn't that at all. They saw each other at least once only a month later, as Aziraphale's diary lets us know. Which explains why he wasn't very surprised or concerned when he met Crowley in London, 1862. If there really had been 35 years in between those two events, the first one ending with Crowley being sucked back Downstairs to receive more than three decades worth of hellish punishment, wouldn't Aziraphale have been at least a tiny bit worried or more interested than:

Just saying.

Alright, let's string this inflated hot air balloon of a post back together so we can outline some invisible furniture. This time with only two humble points:

Crowley through Aziraphale's lense Backed up by how we are introduced to Bildad the Shuhite in the Job minisode (suave, cheeky, smart, passionate in shoemaking and obstetrics), it's growing quite clear that Aziraphale's memories and impressions of Crowley are very fond and impressed ones. He sees him as someone who's not only witty, funny and cool, but also as someone who has figured out way sooner and faster than him that nothing's ever black and white. Not God's plans and not the human's choices either.

Aziraphale as a bit of an exaggerating adventure author With the direct parallel we get of inkslinger journalist!Aziraphale in the present day, it's quite apparent after this minisode that Aziraphale's memory is not only deeply influenced by his emotions, but that he also tends to have a bit of a dramatic touch to him. Although, you gotta give it to the guy: A month without seeing the love of your life, even if said life is eternal, can indeed seem like "quite some time".

Well, would you lookie here, we've reached the end of Part 2! What a journey it was. I hope you forgive me for the fact that I drifted off-course a few times. I just can't seem to reel in my silly little observations, even if they've got nothing to do with the point I'm trying to make. But hey, doesn't that just make me a little bit like Aziraphale's storytelling, in a way?

I'll let you be the judge of that.

See you in Part 3! And in case you haven't snuck a peak yet: here's Part 1 again.

Ta!

[clairescotcoutts]

So, about The Veilguard.

This post is:

Long.

Spoiler full.

Read at your peril.

So.

The fact that I devoured the game in virtually less than three days should speak for itself; I was worried about the playing style, I was unsure about the combo system, and having only two companions travel alongside the MC felt a little alien to me and also added to my anxiety. (Yes, I’ve played Mass Effect, yes, I’ve been in a fighting trio before, but never in Dragon Age.) I thought, “There’s only three of us?! We’re gonna die so much and so hard.”

Turns out I didn’t die so many times as I’d expected, so yay me.

I had refused to watch anything that had to do with the plot, with the exception of the trailers, because I wanted my experience to be fresh and untainted by expectations. Of course, I had hopes — but other than that, I dove in blind and without any sense of direction.

As you know, the depths of the ocean hold both horror and beauty, so here are mine; I shall start with the horrors so all the bad air is cleared out first.

My primary horror is that, save a few points, the game very clearly follows BioWare’s own canon, in which the Hero of Ferelden must have died to stop the Fifth Blight, and thus there is no Kieran. Morrigan plays a pivotal role yet again, but her presence implies that the decisions made in previous games are… well, your own, but not the world’s own. So, no Kieran, and it is heavily suggested that it was Morrigan who drank from the Vir’Abelasan. Even if she hadn’t, turns out she ends up with a piece of Mythal inside her anyway, granted by a regretful (and finally gone) Flemeth.

Story-telling wise, well, I don’t know if it was the best choice— I just know it bummed me out a bit to find some of my decisions discarded, not considered at all.

My second horror is the absence of either Hawke or Stroud. The events at Amaranthine are mentioned, but (unless I missed a codex entry) there’s no word on what happened to the brave soul left in the Fade to fight that giant monster demon. Since I always leave Stroud behind (because Alistair is and always will be a king to me), I can’t say I’m suffering to know his fate, but it would’ve been nice to confirm something. 

At the end of Inquisition, Morrigan narrates that should Hawke live, they go to Weisshaupt, but soon all news from there ends. What happened?! Am I missing something found only in the comics or books?

Also what happened to the rest of the companions? What about the woman made Divine in Inquisition? Whether it’s Leliana, Cassandra or Vivienne, you’d think the Divine would have something to say about two ancient elven gods turning the world tits up.

What about the Qunari who are not part of the Antaam? Are they in agreement with Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain? Is Seheron torn asunder like Minrathous?

Why is nobody remarking on the fact that the Crows buy (or used to buy) people?! I love the Antivan Crows, I do, but one cannot forget Zevran and all he told us about them.

Those are my particular points of horror. 

Now, to the rest.

Veilguard is a game that doesn’t hold back. It’s out to punch you in the guts and kick you in the feelings, and boy does it do it brilliantly. The sacrifices are real. The choices are heavy and carry weight on them that slumps you down (especially if you’re extra sensitive, like me) throughout the game. The dilemma and problems your companions face are heart wrenching, and you want them all to thrive. Yes, even the one who was hardened because you can’t bloody be in two places at once. These companions are well fleshed-out, they’re alive, they’re complex and they are so beautiful to live and travel with. The emotional moments they have, I felt them, I suffered with them, I cried. I /cried/, which had never happened to me with a videogame before. And not just because this companion is my favourite or that topic hits a bit close to home— not just that. It’s because they’re amazingly written and acted out. They feel so real.

The locations are gorgeous (I especially fell in love with Treviso), and I love how much you’re able to explore. I love that you can pet animals. I love that you can interact with the world in front of you. I /love/ that you don't miss dialogue even if you get into a fight because the companions re-start conversations now.

The NPCs? My children. Isabela is fire, as always; Antoine, Evka, Viago and Teia have my whole heart. The Mourn Watch is fascinating and the Shadow Dragons are bold, united and righteous. I really like that the Veil Jumpers don’t diss on the Dalish just because they know more— they understand that, as a people, they are one. And they’re accepting of everyone, not just elves!

I simply adore Rook as a protagonist. Not just because they give purple Hawke, and I love Hawke, but because again, they feel human and real. They know this is well above their paygrade, and they’re in way over their heads, but they still step up and lead because damn, someone has to. Iron Bull would be so proud. They are fun, they are caring, they are talkative and they know they’re drowning, but can’t afford to stop swimming.

Both in Origins and Inquisition it felt as though we were The Chosen One, even if in the latter one tried to swear it off and deny any possible divine intervention, but in DA: 2 and here, we are just people trying their best with the worst circumstances, and to me, that’s beautiful. Rook is a delightful protagonist.

The game allows you to choose who you’re going to be and /how/ you’re going to be thus. You can be cis, you can be trans, you can be neither and you can be both. No limits now.

Which leads me to another point I simply adored: how the questions of gender are treated. It’s really big to have an NB character go through their own acceptance process before our very eyes. While in Origins (and a bit in Inquisition too) you have the choice to be shocked that there are people who like their same gender, this game is Thedas saying “The world is big, the world is complex, and people everywhere are not defined by your expectations or rules. It’s not even an option. Deal with it.”

Regarding the magic, I’m not even mad it looks and feels different. After all, Dorian used to say that “the South is so charming and rustic”, and now I see that’s because what he saw in Ferelden and Orlais was not what he is used to. Even in Absolution we see that the way Tevinter used magic is distinctly unique and not how it is done south of Arlathan. I understand it. I like it. It’s not as if there had been no changes in the designs of demons and darkspawn before, and now that’s what they look like. It’s fine. Time has passed and people are allowed to make different creative choices.

Now, to Solas… Solas. Oh, Solas. I understand you so much better now.

Veilguard really helps put into perspective some bits of dialogue from previous games. Why does this 8-ball care so much about spirits and the Fade? Gods, because he /is/ them, and the Fade used to be his home. Every time he has to hear that spirits are monsters or unreal he takes it personally, and how could he not? People are saying he’s a monster, he’s not real, and nobody knows any better because they wouldn’t believe him anyway. Now I understand why he gets so worked up if you make Cole more human—you’re doing to him what Mythal did to Solas himself. You’re forcing him to be something else and Solas knows it hurts. (Also, Cole is happier as a spirit— “Thank you for helping me find this again. For believing in me. You don't know what it means”, he says, and now it hits so differently.)

I have to remark on some things I’ve read that have shocked me— first of all being the interpretation of Solas and Mythal’s relationship. Like Taash, you can assume “they were doing it”, however, I don’t think they ever loved each other like that. Their bond, to me, is that of a queen and her most loyal knight, a “king and lionheart” sort of situation if you will. Solas knows her better than anyone else, certainly, but the way I see it, that right there is his commander, inspiration and also, his heaviest shackle.

Their relationship merits another post altogether, I believe, as does Solas and Lavellan’s.

All in all, the good, to me, far outweights the bad.

Give the Veilguard a chance before you discard them, enjoy the appearance of some of the characters you love, enjoy getting to know the new heroes. Give yourself the option of having an informed opinion before you love or hate.

Also, petition for Solas to let his hair grow out again.

That's it, for now.

[kikis-works]

What Comes Back to Haunt Us.

Summary: It's been 5 years...Tim thought he was safe.

CW: Angst, fluff, mentions of entry 71 and entry 59

It’s been 5 years since Entry #87 was posted. 

You and Tim have been dating for 2 out of those 5 years and decided to take the next step in your relationship. The two of you had met when he accidentally bumped into you at the mental health clinic he had started to attend and before long he had asked you out on a date. Now here you stand in front of a white house, on a quiet street, in the town of Savannah, Georgia. Tim had finished unpacking the last of the boxes the night before and you couldn’t ask for a better home to share with the love of your life. The floor creaked in certain spots as you entered the house and saw Tim making dinner for when you got off work. The sleeves on his red flannel were rolled up and he had a kitchen towel thrown over his shoulder as he sliced the black olives that sat on the wooden cutting board.

“Spaghetti?” You asked from the kitchen door and he turned, smiling.

“You love spaghetti, and I wanted to do something special.” His words made you smile as you set your bag and coat down in the living room. Walking into the kitchen you wrapped your arms around his torso and pressed yourself into his back, enjoying the smell of cigarette smoke and fresh rain that emitted from his body. You felt a deep chuckle come from his body as he scraped the chopped up olives into the spaghetti sauce, turning to face you. He towered over you as he wrapped his arms around you.

“Why don’t you go find a movie to watch? They should be in the hall closet.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead as you nodded, reluctantly leaving his arms. As you made your way to the closet and opened the door, you smiled and called out to the man in the kitchen.

“How do you feel about a horror movie?!” 

“Sounds good! Your choice, doll!” 

“Okay, pretty boy!” You smiled at the pet names you exchanged as you dug around in the closet.

You came across a small box you had never seen before and opened it up. It contained a bunch of tapes that you assumed were Tim’s old tapes. He told you he used to be an actor for an old friend’s student film before their friendship fell apart, but he didn’t like talking about it. He always became anxious and would change the subject when you were asking questions about that time in his life.

Your hand found the old camera and flipped it open, the tape that was already in the camera playing. A man in a t shirt and a cap was sitting in his car at night as he spoke, “Tim called me a little while ago and told me to meet him out here to talk about something. He didn’t say what it was.” 

Was this a sort of vlog for the student film?

“But I assume it had something to do with what all happened at the abandoned hospital a few days ago, which really didn’t go as well I hoped it would, even though I don’t know how I expected it to go. I don’t know what all Tim remembers and what he doesn’t remember, and what he’s lying about remembering and not remembering. But regardless I don’t think he’s gonna be buying my cover story for much longer, and even if he did, it’s not really doing much good, by this point.”

What the hell was this? Cover story for what?

“So, as nervous as it makes me to do this, I think when he gets here, I’m going to come clean with him and tell him the truth about what all’s been going on these past few years. It may make him mad. It may get him on my side. I don’t know what’s gonna happen. But maybe it’ll lead to some answers if I’m lucky.”

Not long after that you noticed Tim’s car pull into the empty parking lot on the video camera screen. Who was this guy and why was he lying to Tim? The video showed Tim get out of his car and march over to the mystery man.

“Tim, listen I-” The man was cut off as Tim punched him in the stomach. The sudden violence made your stomach churn. Not once in the two years that you had known Tim had he ever gotten violent or aggressive. You turned the camera off and sat for a minute before you heard Tim call your name. “Doll, you okay in there?” You pick a movie and rush back to the kitchen.

“Sorry, I couldn’t pick a movie.” He smiled and nodded, handing you a plate of hot spaghetti. 

After dinner, you had your back pressed against his chest as you both lay on the couch finishing the movie. The video footage still made your stomach churn with an uneasy feeling, which made you speak up.

“Tim, why didn’t you tell me we had a camera?” He physically tensed up behind you.

“What are you talking about, doll?”

“The camera and tapes in the closet.” He turned and sat up, turning your face to him.

“Look at me, baby. You can’t watch those tapes. Something…haunts those tapes. If you watch those tapes, there’s no going back. That thing will find you. Even us talking about this is risky.” His tone was dead serious and his eyes were stone cold. All you could do was nod as he pulled you tightly to his chest, gripping onto you as if you were going to disappear into thin air. 

You and Tim made your way into the bedroom and changed into pajamas before climbing into the haven of warm blankets. As you cuddled up to the man beside you, your head on his bare chest, his words about the tapes echoed in your head. They were just tapes…there couldn’t be anything wrong with them. When you were sure that Tim had fallen asleep, you silently climbed out of bed and padded your way over to the hallway closet, opening up the door and staring at the cardboard box that held the supposedly haunted tapes. You sat down on the floor and pulled out the camera, picking a random tape to put into the camera. The tape began to play as you watched silently. Tim and the unknown man were outside of Alex’s old house. It was seemingly normal as they searched the house, but when they entered the basement, the once daylight that was outside had disappeared. That’s when you saw it…a tall man in a suit, but he had no features. His skin was white and he stood at around 10 feet tall, the video and audio distorting. A soft ringing in your ears began to occur as you continued to watch the tape, before it ended. You sat in silence before you softly rose and walked out to the front porch, finding the pack of cigarettes and lighter you kept on the porch. It was cold as you sat on the wooden porch, the wind adding an icy chill to the dark night.

The ringing grew louder as you lit the cigarette and shakily exhaled the smoke. There was no way it was real, it had to have been edited in or they had to have had someone dress up as the tall man. But there was no way to edit a tape…was there? As you began to sink into your thoughts, you stared at the neverending woods that lay in silence across the road from your house. The ringing was unbearable now and that’s when you saw it…the same figure that you had seen in the tapes, just standing along the tree line, staring at you with his eyeless features. You stomped out your half smoked cigarette and made your way back inside, crawling back into the bed beside your warm boyfriend. Your icy toes were happy to be back in the soft bed, the warmth beginning to draw the cold out of them. You snuggled back up to the warm body that you shared the bed with and your eyes became heavy as you felt his arms instinctively wrap around you. Sleep called to you and you happily answered the call.

It had been a week since you touched the camera and watched the tapes. The ringing came back occasionally while you were at work, but you never saw the faceless man again. That was until the night you had a nightmare. 

The leaves crunched under your feet as you ran through the dark and endless woods, the footsteps of the masked man following close behind you. When you turned to see how close he was, you could see his brunette hair that poked out from behind the white mask. The white mask had black around the eyes, the lips were filled in, and eyebrows were drawn on the mask as well. His eyes were dark as his feet pushed him along towards your fear filled body. You turned your face as the cold night air burned in your lungs, your legs threatening to collapse underneath you as you pushed branch after branch out of your face. The faceless man whizzed by as you ran. You only awoke when the masked man tackled you to the ground.

Your eyes were heavy and your head pounded as you moved to roll over in the soft bed. But you weren’t in your bed. Instead you were met with moist dirt and green grass, the trees around you looming and dark. As you sat up, you didn’t recognize where you were. You looked up and judging by the position of the sun, it was around one in the afternoon. You felt the pressure of your phone in your pajama pants. When the hell did that get there? Your phone was charging when you went to bed. You laughed silently, as if the mystery of how your phone got into your pocket was the biggest problem you had right now. You pulled out your phone and your heart raced.

Tim❤️: 42 missed calls

Tim❤️: 6 voicemails

Tim❤️: Did you get called into work?

Tim❤️: Doll?

Tim❤️: Is everything okay?

Tim❤️: You’re starting to worry me

Tim❤️: Please pick up, baby

You quickly dial his phone number and within two rings he picked up. “Oh thank God, you’re okay. Where the hell are you?” The worry in his voice was thick.

“I…I don’t know.”

“What do you mean?” His voice dropped slightly.

“I don’t remember how I got here…or where the hell I am. I had this weird dream where I was running from some kind of masked man, and then I woke up here.” The other side of the line was silent apart from the heavy breathing and the sound of a car door slamming closed.

“Describe what’s around you.”

You looked around and began to walk, the coarse dirt wedging its way in between your toes as you walked along the undistinguished path before you.

“I see a red tower behind the trees.” 

“FUCK!” The sudden vulgar language from the phone made you jump and the sound of an engine roar filled the speaker. “I’m coming to get you. Get to the tower.” His voice was dark as he breathed heavily.

“Doll…I love you. So much.”

“I love you too, Tim.”

The call ended as you made your way through the woods and to the red tower. The paint was faded and it looked as though it would collapse at any minute. You walked inside, careful of the broken glass and sharp wooden pieces. He was coming for you.

It was roughly six hours and the sun was beginning to set before you heard your name being called from somewhere in the woods. Tim. 

You jumped up and began to scream back at him. “Tim?!” You followed the sound of his voice until you saw him from across a clearing. You didn’t think, just ran. He made his way to you quicker than you thought and his arms wrapped around you, his voice breaking as he buried his face into your neck.

“Oh doll, I thought I lost you..”

“I’m right here, Tim. I’m right here.” His hand found its way to your hair as he held you close.

“We need to leave, now.”

All you could do was nod as he picked you up and carried you back to his car.

“I’m so sorry I dragged you into this, doll. I’m sorry.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead before getting behind the wheel and driving away. As you left you noticed the sign that stood in front of the entrance.

‘Rosswood Park.’

[applesontheground]

walking on the wild side 🦇

I'M A WEREWOLF FUCKER BUT DAMN THAT NEAR DARK (1987) CAN NEAR DARK (1987). amongst my other new hyperfixes i've been screaming about on here, i really liked the southern vamps and wanted to write about them and that one guy that i don't even try to hide the immediate fascination for. (would you be mad if i said i thought mr. paxton was cute in twister, too, so i knew this was coming for me?)

also, i decided to split this up. it got longer than i thought it would, an old problem i haven't had in a long time, so i've got a triple-feature coming at ya!

also also, enjoy a pic of a baby bat that i looked up while writing this! they're called pups, which i 100% included as a disgusting petname in this. 😭😭😭

SFW | Word Count: 1,694 | Severen x GN Turned!Reader contains canon typical/mentions of murder, reader has a light accent and smokes 🎼: x, x ➡ continued in the wire between will and what will be

Like the sore thumb you were, you had come home late from hunting as though it were your routine. Being your newest skill, something you just weren’t planning on doing with that life of yours a few months ago, you were aching all over and less human the longer you stayed away from the morning glow.

Speaking of, it was catching on your coattails as you slunk into the shade, reading the poorly etched number on the key you had fished from your pocket, hands still trembling from exertion – grabbing shirt collars, holding fast to the neck until the pulse stuttered enough to immobilize the body… and finding the matching room number, you stuck it into the worn slot.

Shallow relief to be given entry, you stalked through the doorway, still walking with a mild limp but a full stomach settling the pain. You heard the room turn, first to look down on you in their usual lack of warmth – then change tune as they witnessed you pull the yellow bandana from your pocket, and dab your mouth just to make a point, half of its color splattered something vibrant.

“…Fresh?” Diamondback crooned; eyes locked on the blood and hopeful. She was always banking on you being the next charity project, like Caleb had been before you fell into the way of their wayward travels. You shot a shamed glance across the floor, leading to the four of them playing poker, plastered grins and cigarettes clouding any semblance of fresh air you had rushing in your face minutes beforehand.

Finally, you nodded, continuing to stagger across the room and ignoring the way Severen shot up from his chair. “HOOO! HOW ‘BOUT IT, [SHORTSTOP/SWEETIE]!?” He hollered, feigning your jolting reaction to the loud noise for ignoring him completely.

“There’s our [man/girl/stud].” Jesse spoke much quieter, and that was what made your eyes fall back on them for a beat. “Turning into a real killer.”

You quickly slunk into the bathroom to wash the sweat, the lamenting, all of it from your body. Your handkerchief fell to the floor, stomped on by a heeled boot without second thought.

It felt as though the next time you opened your eyes, and felt ready to speak again, you were seated at a nearby diner after a day’s rest with the clan. Sleep was still in your eyes as you stared down at a plate of toast you had no intention of eating; they had ordered it for posterity, not ready to show their nature at a place with quite a few parties in the vicinity with you. It was just you, Jesse, Diamondback, and Homer; Severen, Mae, and Caleb had better places to be, you assumed. Diamondback had spoken to you, and when you realized it was a cue to speak, you just started saying the first thing that fell on your tongue from the fog of your newly turned brain.

“This can be hard, but…” You stopped, thinking legitimately before mumbling again in a careful voice, “I’ll manage. I have to if I’m gonna be hanging off your clan, and all.”

“Well, you know what makes it easier?” She asked you, making your eyes flicker back up to her from over your coffee going cold. “What?” You had a dumb tone of voice despite your efforts, unable to help the way your eyes grew a little, a sliver of hope showing in the way your shoulders rose up from a slumped posture.

She smiled and answered, “Having a partner to feed with.”

“...Who?” You felt a bizarre smile grow on your face, “…Homer?” He looked up from coloring his kids menu, flipping you off when he realized you were kidding. You stifled your spirit as you basked in your joke, seeing the other two conceal their own laughs. “No, no.” Diamond giggled, “That’s not who I was hinting at. Homer finds playmates his age, anyways.”

You blinked, suddenly feeling a prickle against your neck at what she meant. The name was dawning on you one moment too late, and you nearly grimaced. “Oh, I…” You cleared your throat, “He don’t…He d-doesn’t like me, Diamondback.”

Jesse snorted, “He’s the one who turned you, it’s only natural that it’s gonna be him.” You shifted in your seat as he went on, “He needs the help sometimes, [Y/N], in more ways than one.”

“I’m not that help.” You insisted quickly, shooting a glance out the diner window, your voice lowering fast and finding the comfortable excuses that should be clear as day to them all...no pun intended. “I’m pretty useless, and it’s best I stay alone for now 'til I’m not.”

“Suit yourself, kiddo.” Jesse stopped leaning back in the booth, making your eyes widen again as he leaned towards you, “But he’s connected to you one way or another, and that bond is going to be potent between us all until one of you goes up in flames.” He scoffed when you furrowed your brow at that, “Hey, it happens, just not old age and all that shit. Give it the time of day, time of night, and you’ll be crawling all over each other.”

“I really don’t need that …And that’s fine, I don’t ask anybody to.” You stated plainly. Diamond sat forward now, extending her sharply manicured hand to you as she cooed, “See, that’s not true, sweetie. You can feed yourself just fine, and we like having that [pretty/stunning] smile around in the small times we get to see it. We do want you here, you know.”

Jesse and Homer gave blank glances to the way your clenched hand fell from where it had been folded over your mouth to take hers, and you hummed, “I hate to say that I try to believe that.”

“Well, you're in luck. Don’t mind sayin’ it ‘til you do.” She shrugged, squeezing your hand.

After “breakfast”, you sat on the edge of the motel’s parking lot, Jesse deeming it safe to stay one more night since no one had found your clan's mess quite yet. You were waiting for the moon to rise a little higher in the sky, still aching in some places from last night. Your hunger was quickly diminished with the new turn still, well, new to your body. You could hear pulses as people passed to their rooms, used the vending machine nearby, and the dust that kicked up from the passing cars from the road itched your eyes and nose even more than it ever had as a mortal growing up in this very desert.

It was fine to sit with, but too much of it would overwhelm you fast, which was what would make you either lash out at the next daywalker or slink in for an early rest.

“Oh, I can't believe my eyes. Is that a wild child I see out yonder?”

You tensed at the sound of his voice, holding your inner elbow tighter as the cigarette planted between two fingers started to tremble where you had left it. It suit better to burn instead of trying to inhale it in an attempt to feel a lethal sensation that couldn’t touch foreign immortality germinating with each breath into your body. You couldn’t help the anxiety that came with hearing his boots scuff on the pavement as he walked over, growing closer in slow motion as you hung onto your last quiet moments. His demeanor was too casual for you to stomach just with how tense you usually were, and the situation you had to drift from in the sense of daydreaming to keep from losing your fucking mind.

“Gonna just sit here like a sack of shit, or are ya gonna hunt?” Severen asked, plopping down next to you. You shot him a look and mumbled, “Cool it. I’m just waiting for the right time, after midnight is where the drunks start getting plastered beyond compare.” You sounded uncertain of your words, so you weakly concluded, “…That’s the best ones to go after.”

“Feedin’ off the drunkies? That blood can be a little sour, make you a little wasted alongside ‘em.” He laughed, and you replied dryly, “I don’t mind, ...it feels good.” He hummed in agreement to that, and then sighed in that usual teasing twang, “You're still such a breakable little thing, though. Someone should come with ya tonight, make sure you don't get caught in bad sit-ee-ations.”

“Oh. Did they ask you to?” You quickly asked, “’Cause I don’t want to make you hang around-” You spit it out after a moment’s hesitation, “With a newbie, alright? You really don’t have to.” Severen stopped smiling to himself, and then quickly asked with a shrug of his hand out in the front of both of you, “Well, what if I wanted to? Then what, [Y/N]?”

You rose one eyebrow, squinting as you prodded, “Do you?”

“Yes’m.”

“Really, I-”

“YES, I want to bag one of these blood-filled piles of meat with you, see what kinda easy targets you’re settlin’ for.” He slung his arm around your shoulders, shaking his head as you met his eyes in a startled glower. “We hunt best in groups, and yeah, Diamondback did tell me to entertain this lil slice of bait in front'a me, but…” He smirked at you, “You hold me back, I’m gonna let you crash and burn. Simple as that, and guess what else?”

You almost asked, but he didn’t let you. “Don’t matter that I bit ya. Bite a lot of [fellers/girls/people]. They just don’t find a way to live like you did, is all.” You thought about that, but finally hummed in a surprise of agreement. “Sure, sure. It’s only fair.”

His smile faltered once more, and you stood up and brushed yourself off, dropping the cigarette and snuffing it with your boot.

“Alright. Let’s shake a leg, wildcat.” You hummed as you walked down the road without a second more of hesitation, feeling a little more guarded with the prospect of Severen deciding you were worth his evening.

“Hey, ain’t no wildcat to you, puppydog.” He retorted, but the spurs that clinked after you spoke otherwise.

[elionwriter]

Sherlock Holmes the Awakened: a Review

(SPOILERS AHEAD)

Sorry, sorry, sorry, but I just NEED to talk about this game! I have been a Frogwares Holmes fan since the very beginning and 'The Awakened' was always among my favourite titles. Not to mention one of the games that had scared the wits out of me. So I have to speak about the Remake now.

First and foremost, I think it needs to be reiterated that this game was made DURING THE FU****G INVASION OF UKRAINE! During such dark times, the team kept working on this. I would have supported this game even just for this reason alone.

Now, let's be honest: Frogwares never had the most marvelous graphics nor the most polished of gameplays and this entry is not an exception. I still feel the map system is a bit difficult to navigate (I may be an idiot, but I had the same issue with Chapter 1) but I really appreciated the added help the game gives you when you're recreating a scene, letting you know which passage you got wrong. Last game I found myself changing everything trying to hit the right combination so I really liked this fix.

This needs to be said: the game doesn't feel under any shape or form a product for a new fan. Everything from dialogues to game mechanics sort of take for granted that you've at least played 'chapter one'. Honestly? I'm ok with this, I hate having to always go through nearly identical tutorial stages for games I know inside out (like Pokémon) and I believe that most of not all people who are going to get this game ARE old fans!

I wasn't originally a big fan of the new Holmes and Watson models when the last game came out but....I dunno, they have grown on me. I find myself liking them now for, I suppose, no other reason than 'they are very expressive' and 'I've gotten used to them'. I think it's gotten to the point that these might be my favourite models of the two to date. Please ignore how fickle I am! (In honesty, just to draw a similar parallel, when Roger Craig Smith was first announced as Sonic's voice I hated it and now he's my fav Sonic v. actor)

This game has something.....compared to its predecessor, that makes it less scary. I can't really put my finger on it, but I distinctly remember the feeling of claustrophobia building in me when I was in the Black Edelweiss. Or the sheer jumpscare I got when the sacrificed American detective on the altar had tentacles coming out of it and severing his head making it roll to the ground. I remember almost not wanting to paddle the rowboat under the tree of hanging men in the Bayou. I remember how viscerally sick I felt at the lighthouse by all the gore and blood depicted. This time round.....I just didn't. I'm honestly not sure why this didn't hit me nearly as hard as its 2006 predecessor did!

And talking about comparisons, one thing I'm a bit disappointed they didn't grab the chance to do in this remake was fix the loose ends that were left hanging in the 2006 version. I mean....they still abandoned completely the search for that one Maori servant, what happened to all the people they managed to rescue? Who hired the private American detective that was killed? Why give out the cheap pendants? I know I'm a bit dumb and need extra explaining than what is necessarily needed but...I can't be the only one right? Sometimes you want to be told just a bit more.

Now, getting into the really good bits, that make all of it worth it!

'Chapter One' acted as a 'de facto' reboot of the Frogwares Holmes series, and I honestly think that was for the best. I don't really see where they could have gone with things after 'Devil's Daughter' and their Holmes had changed too much to be the same guy from 'The Silver Earring'...let alone Watson. But like this? They have a fresh, clean slate to start off from and they can rebuild the two mains' relashionship and lore from the ground up in a more strictly consequential manner. And the way they are doing it? I think it's state of the art!

The fact that they poke fun at themselves on certain points like Watson stating: "What about when you used to roll up only one of your sleeves? Did you get bored halfway through?!" I think the Devs themselves realized this was a cringe design choice and I like that they said so out loud.

The meta-conversation they wrote in towards the end, 'because yes, this HAS Happened before and the story still has the same outcome', is brilliant. I don't think I've ever seen another remake that acknowledges that it is a remake, and in the general madness that is mounting in the narrative this makes perfect sense! It adds one more layer of horror and inexplicable to the tale. The villain's warning 'that the Final Problem is coming and Sherlock will fall in the abyss too' is such a powerful way to use Canon. The prophecy is only made more real and dreadful by the fact that this person is aware of what has already happen in a similar but different scenario!

Also, not them using that one quote from 'The Valley of Fear' novel which happens to be one of my all time favourites!

I say, Watson,’ he whispered, ‘would you be afraid to sleep in the same room as a lunatic, a man with softening of the brain, an idiot whose mind has lost its grip?’ ‘Not in the least,’ I answered in astonishment. 'Ah, that’s lucky,’ he said, and not another word would he utter.

I think the thing that has most benefited from the Remake is Watson's character. Compared to the 2006 version, this Watson is a truly compelling character in his own right and this time round he's not just along for the ride. In this version, you simply cannot imagine how Holmes would have done it on his own. Watson was in every way a key component to the solution of the problem and the reason why Holmes didn't drown in madness. That point is driven home by Rochester asking 'How did you defeat me?' and Holmes answering 'I made a friend!'

Much of the narrative in the game was focused on Holmes truly learning to accept Watson's friendship and him as a person when he was still clinging so much to his old imaginary friend. You can see how, at first, Holmes refuses to be honest with the Doctor about what he thinks and feels and it's only as they move forward in the adventure that they both open up to each other. You can see as the adventure progresses that Holmes shifts his desperate cries from 'Jon' to 'Watson' to 'John' and the Doctor goes more and more often from 'Holmes' to 'Sherlock'. Mycroft also points this out when he says that Sherlock 'went from one Jon to another'. But this one, John Watson, is real and there to stay. In the context of a story that happens mostly in the detective's mind, Watson's friendship is really what turns the situation around!

I could add of little tid bits which were so random and on the nose that somehow worked, like the possessed 'Heidi' doll or the fact that you had to actually 'Kill Holmes' with the booby traps instead of avoiding them.

Also, "The director Guygax was randomly killed.....by a doll?!????!?!?! Yeah, let's just walk out of here no questions asked. That's too deep a wormhole even for this f***d up Adventure to go down. I'm sure nobody is gonna ask us questions, suspect or stop us as we go out the main doors!" 😃 -Holmes, probably.

So, yeah, I loved this game despite it not being perfect and my love and support goes to Frogwares more that ever!

[awesomex7]

May contain slight spoilers for KFP 4:

Okay, saw Kung Fu Panda 4 and... I liked it.

Will say it's the weakest entry in the franchise, but at the same time, I am happy we get another adventure with Po.

I actually like the concept of Po training someone to carry his title, there is a lot of story potential there. The problem is that it isn't done well or focused on enough for the movie. It makes me wonder if they are saving the passing of the torch plotline for the last 2 possible movies that Jeffrey Katzenburg talked about.

The Chameleon though, wasted potential. She could have been the biggest villain in the franchise, but felt like a "Legends of Awesomeness" villain of the week.

Her motives, I am not saying they couldn't work, but they could have if MANTIS was there. Like make it so that her problem wasn't her size, but her dedication. Mantis facing the same problem she did, but worked hard to over come people judging his fighting prowess based on size. There would have been a nice talk too.

I don't mind the Furious Five not being involved this time, Po needs his own adventure to show how far he has come and prove he can stand on his own. I understand the frusteration. I mean I would be too if The Bad Guys 2 only has Wolf and Diane with the rest of the gang MIA. I just hope the Furious Five makes a return in a future project, even under different voice actors as long as the protrayals feel true to the characters.

Also, they hyped up the return of the villains of the previous movies and... Only Tai Lung appears to matter, like Shen and Kai don't talk or interact with Po, they are just there. Why even bother bringing back? Just to have people point and say "OH MY GOSH! IT'S THE VILLAINS FROM THE TRILOGY! THEY ARE ALL HERE!". They didn't do anything with them to help make this entry feel epic or climatic.

Li was there too. I really, really wanted Li to meet Shen so he could go through a character arc about the trauma he faced when his village was attacked and he lost his family. Ping could have comforted him and helped him find the strength to be a hero and help save the day alongside the others.

Lastly, Zhen. She is essentially Diane, but more mischevious with a hint of clumsiness and isn't OP. A complete breath of fresh air and Iiked her, but... I really hope they aren't gonna do what I think they're planning for the char, even if I do think the passing of the torch is being handled far better than with Rey in Star Wars or Indiana Jones The Dial of Destiny. Gradual, not instantaneous, and doesn't corrupt or downplay the original male hero.

But I would like to see Zhen try to find her own identity and be a better version of herself. Like maybe the next film could dive into Zhen feeling incapable of handling the burden of being the Dragon Warrior, or heck, Po having to deal with what Shifu did with Tai Lung and have Zhen go rogue. Zhen trying to do what she thinks is best for China. This could be used to dive more into Zhen's backstory and motivations (Destroy kung fu and wipe it from history or take away everybody's chi so they won't abuse it).

After all said, this feels more like a stepping stone for a follow up with fan service than anything else. 😅

[tmntxthings]

∑一Entry 1・゜・。

summary: it’s like a diary, that tells the story from one perspective, only their inner thoughts, of their story with donnie, & spoiler alert I don’t think there will be a happy ending

warnings: first meetings, strangers to friends to lovers, cloaking brooch, eventually angst, obsession, jealousy, yandere behavior, unedited

—————————————————————————

I met someone today.

They were interesting.

And what was even more interesting was that I thought to myself, ‘I’d like to see them again.’

We talked for a bit, about mundane things. Stuff that I don’t find interesting at all. The weather. New York is a cold place. Usually. But today the weather had been…

What had he called it..?

‘Superb’

It was clear skies, sunny, with a bit of wind so it wasn’t too hot. Supposedly this was his perfect day. I wouldn’t use that word, it was alright. But I found him, very cute. For phrasing it that way.

What made us have a conversation to begin with?

He had saved me. From myself! My shoelaces always come undone as you know. And he was walking past me, when accidentally he stepped on the laces, and down I went, mid-step, jerking slightly from my pace being cut off.

He was pretty quick. My eyes were wide open as I watched the ground get closer and closer. I had accepted my fate. Then his arm had shot out, slinging under my waist and pulling me backward on my feet.

After the apologies and thank yous, and him pointing out the cause of my problems. He knelt down on one knee, and tied my shoelaces.

It was something that only happened to the romance leads in movies. I never thought anything so cliche would happen to me. But I was thankful as I got to watch him work. Deft fingers, long eyelashes. He smelled good, he wore purple.

More thank yous. And then I did something I normally never do. I asked for his name. Donatello. Unusual! I’ve never met one of those before. A classic name. Outdated for sure. But rememberable nonetheless.

Instead of parting ways, I decided to keep going outside of my little box. Since he was so interesting. He had the greenest eyes I’d ever seen. I commented on it, and he stuttered a little.

‘T-thank you..’

That wasn’t all either. He wore a ring that he liked to twist and twist and twist. It was mesmerizing when I finally noticed it. His little habit. I noticed a bunch of things as we walked the trails in Central Park.

He told me that he had needed the fresh air, to get out and away from his family for a bit. I had a similar reason though I didn’t say it. The noise, it had been so deafening in my tiny apartment. I had to get away from it. It followed me outside, to the park.

It only seemed to stop when I met him. Donatello. Maybe that’s why I found him so interesting. I didn’t notice it at the time.. but yes, I think that is why. He made all the noise go away! It was nice and quiet for once, with the sound of his voice filling up the rest of the space.

He had a nice voice too.

We walked, and talked, he talked more than me. But that’s normal. I don’t like talking. He does though, and he had a lot to say. It seemed he needed someone to listen. So I lended both my ears willingly.

By the time the sun started to set we had walked the trail three times. I hadn’t wanted that to be it. A chance encounter. A kind person who would become a distant memory. No. Maybe not. I don’t think I would’ve ever forgotten about him.

Luckily it seemed I wasn’t the only one who felt that way. He had said,

‘Thanks for listening to all of that… I’m not usually an over-sharer!’ He chuckled before continuing,

‘Would you want to exchange numbers? I think it’s pretty rare to find someone you can talk easily with, I’d much rather you than Dr. Feelings’

He had to explain that last part. But my phone was out and ready all the same. This moment felt really important. I felt like I had to write it down. So here we are. Now I will never ever forget.

I haven’t texted and neither has he. I probably won’t reach out first. But maybe I will. I have yet to decide. Though I hope to see him again soon.

—————————————————————————

∑一Entry 2・゜・。

If I had known it would take two weeks until he would reach out, I wouldn’t have made that promise to myself to not reach out first.

It was just below torture. Watching. Waiting. I thought maybe I would see even the three little dots pop up a few times. That maybe he had been thinking of me too.

I don’t think he had.

But that’s okay.

He reached out on his own violation eventually. Which felt nice. He had texted,

‘Greetings’

Very formal!

‘Would you like to walk in Central Park again?’

He provided the exact location and time to meet. I got there early. He seemed to have the same idea! All in purple once more. And he wore the same ring too.

We walked, and we talked. It felt just as nice as before. He was so talkative. He was funny. He was kind. I got too distracted a couple of times, staring intently at him instead of my surroundings. Twice I had almost walked into another person, and once I had tripped. All by accident.

He was just as swift as before. Easily reaching out to pull me close or pull me up. Not letting me fall. Not allowing me to run into someone’s back.

‘You should be more careful.’ He told me.

I nodded. My cheeks were warm after that. It felt quite embarrassing to have been told that. He had no idea how careful I was. I hardly ever leave the apartment after all! In fact I don’t think I had left since the last time I had seen him.

It was much safer inside. But I had a reason to get out now. He was worth it. He didn’t talk as much as the first meeting. So I asked some questions. He was 18! Just like me.

His favorite color was indeed purple.

His hobbies were botany and fixing everyone else’s problems.

He liked video games, and making ‘tech.’

That really had gotten some long winded speeches out of him. He was very smart it seemed. Much smarter than me.

I could hardly keep up with the big words he used. It all sounded very technical and advanced. But he was so animated when he got worked up into a talk frenzy. It was cute.

All I could hear was his voice, so soothing, so happy. It was musical. I could have it on repeat. Every day.

‘We should do this more often! Would you like to schedule regular meetings?’

It was asked very suddenly. But I agreed instantly. Now in my calendar, every Wednesday, from 5pm to 6pm, we would have our walks. And we would talk. Though this one had lasted much longer than 6. But he said it wouldn’t always be that way.

He was very busy. And yet, he stayed til 8pm. He had paused before leaving. I wondered what he had thought of. I didn’t have the courage to ask. Maybe I will next time. Next Wednesday.

—————————————————————————

∑一Entry 3・゜・。

Now that I had a specific day to look forward to, every day before that was boring. Each day that drew closer was filled with imaginary conversations.

What shade of purple would he wear this time?

How many times would he twist that ring?

My guess was 24 times. Maybe less since supposedly our time limit was an hour.

But before that magical day could come. I was forced to socialize with the landlord. Late payments. Threats. No money, no apartment. It was all so annoying.

I didn’t have any money left. The rent and other necessities took it. Which meant I would have to get a job, again. Unemployment checks should last forever.

So I had to socialize even more. I talked to one place for a job. They were always hiring. Luckily they didn’t ask for a resume or anything really. I told them I could work any day but Wednesday.

Those were for Donatello. Even though it was just one hour. I would need time to prepare.

With the job lined up, the little social battery that I had was completely drained. And I had two days to recover before Wednesday rolled around.

I couldn’t sleep. For those two days. The noise. It’s so loud. It wouldn’t let me sleep.

Makeup hid the dark circles that had encompassed my eyes. But no amount of makeup could hide the fact that I was tripping over my own two feet way more often than usually.

My eyes were wide open. I watched Donatello check my shoelaces multiple times. After the sixth time he suggested that we should just sit.

‘Is everything okay?’ He had asked me a personal question. This felt really important. And I struggled with how to answer. The truth?

‘I-‘

Coward. I was too much of a coward. Only one word of the truth came out before I changed my cowardice mind. I told him everything was fine. That I was just a little tired. That work had been hard. Which led to more questions.

‘Where do you work?’

‘Oh! What do you do?’

‘I see, well I hope they aren’t overworking you! If you ever..’

He had went off on another tangent about legal work hours. And other stuff that flew over my head. I think I would’ve been able to understand if I hadn’t been so exhausted.

And sitting on that bench, with Donatello’s voice going on forever and ever, it was calming. My wide eyes drooped. The initial excitement of my new favorite day had been overshadowed by my body being awake for three days.

I don’t know when I fell asleep. It was somewhere around the conversation about robots and the very real possibility of sentient life. Donatello had been very adamant when my expression had turned doubtful. But I think that was just my confused face. Even my facial expressions weren’t working right.

When I woke up, my head was resting just below his shoulder. Against his arm. He was very still. His other arm, that had his other hand, held his phone and he was scrolling through some app. Purple. Messages. My eyes were so blurry it took a couple of blinks to finally see that he was messaging someone.

Someone named April.

I must’ve moved or jerked or did something because the phone went black and he murmured my name.

‘You okay?’ He asked it again. It felt like a second chance. And so I told him the truth. That I hadn’t slept for a while. I didn’t say how long. But he nodded as I found the strength somehow, to move away from his arm. He was cool to the touch.

‘I understand, I don’t have the best sleep schedule either so I’m in no position to judge,’

This was said in a joking manner. He smiled kindly as he looked down. I surely looked like a bleary-eyed mess. But he was so kind, so nice. I smiled too. And it was 7:30!

‘Do you mind if I walk you home? I wouldn’t want you to fall asleep on your feet! Or worse you trip into someone else’s arms,’

He had laughed quite loudly after that. I could only feel my ears getting really hot. After a moment I realized he had gotten really quiet. I picked up the slack. It returned to normal after a few questions,

‘What’s your favorite plant?’

‘What do you do for work?’

‘Did I say anything in my sleep?’

I was really curious about the last one. I wasn’t worried. Just curious. Turns out I hadn’t said a thing. And that Donatello was a problem-solver in all aspects of life. But mainly he helped people with computer problems, and he fought bad guys ‘Haha just kidding, unless you consider hackers bad guys’

They were in my book! He had turned his ring three times in a row after that answer. As for the plant one, he had many purple flowers he listed off.

‘What?? You don’t know what lilacs look like?’

I had shook my head. Nothing really came to mind except the color lilac. That was another shade of purple..right?

‘I’ll have to bring some for you next Wednesday!’

He had declared this and even though I tried to say he didn’t have to! That I could easily look them up. I was happy when he told me not to, that he would show me.

This would be my first physical gift from Donatello. I am looking forward to next Wednesday even more than usual now. And I promised him and myself that I wouldn’t look up lilacs, it would be a surprise.

[capricious-bastard13]

I've watched Jack's (Jacksepticeye's) playthrough of MyHouse.Wad, and at first, because I only heard of Doom and never played it, I let it play in the background. Until Jack's voice starts reading the attached letter to the game.

My thought immediately went, "This is something, and I feel like I'll like this something." I rewind it and watched it from the very start to the end. But I felt it wasn't all that it was, I bounced from his to the comments, explaining the game and all being recommended to play it for yourself. I don't have the resources to do so, so when I saw a comment about a video explaining it, I looked it up. The video lays out the house and the different ways you can go from point a to point b. I've seen Power Pak's after watching Jack's playthrough. And just now, I've watched Pyrocynical's video and theory on it.

There's two that stood out to me, near the end; he lays out the theories and practically dismisses the queer interpretations of it. Until now, I've always been in the camp of "Thomas and Steve were a couple, but due to the time period, or their families, they kept it hidden." When watching Pyro's video, I started realising, why were there pills on the bathroom floor, why the crib, the ring? And I felt like Pyro was nearly there, he was so close to putting it together.

But he dismisses Thomas perhaps being trans or that Steve and Thomas are gay--calls a "fat stretch" and "Level difficulty: Medium" respectively.

I've prefaced all this, because as someone who's transmasc, it felt invalidating. For months I've seen this game--although I never played it and only watched it--as a queer story of grief and loss, of processing that loss, of going through stages of denial, of reliving memories, of just wanting to reach an end where you feel at peace, of looking back on that journey and thinking to yourself that you've made it--past the hardships to a place where you can feel at peace again.

MyHouse.wad being as ambiguous as it is but leaving all these little tidbits is as when it comes to art, hard to piece together. But hearing about how there's also a trans interpretation of made me perk up, thinking, "oh, it's going to be talked about in detail," only to be disappointed.

So, despite being that MyHouse.wad has probably had this interpretation ("tHeOrY") put up already, I still felt compelled to write my own view on it using the pieces that I know of--but, there might be details that I describe vaguely because I don't remember them all that much.

We get tiny little small glimpses of Thomas through Steve's entries, of introduction we get along with the link to download it. And even just from the descriptions of the items in the game like the ring, the die, and whatnot. And the first thought is, "oh, they're gay, but they're not out," which is a sad thought, yes. But I held that interpretation close to me. It's a journey of Steve trying to get through his grief, of plunging in to his thoughts, dismantled and breaking apart as they are. The rawness of everything, of how for him, it probably felt so fresh still and this game, of going through their mod map is his way of processing--never mind how it consumed him, as he said.

And what I consider to be the best ending; the real beach, with a heart on the sand, initials--"S and A, forever". Who's 'A'? Isn't it supposed to be 'T' for Thomas?

I've seen how 'A' could be for "Allord", Thomas' last name, and at the time, yeah, maybe it is A for Allord. But what if it isn't? What if 'A' is the deadname--using that initial, despite it being a deadname, was probably used to protect them, protect him-Thomas. To be seen a heteronormative couple to get away from the hate, the stares, the animosity.

What about the excerpt of their death? Thomas' photo clearly being of a man? Well, that's just it. It's an indication of how the family has accepted Thomas for who he is and to honor him properly, used what a photo of what he looks like now, of who he really is. Proudly too, showing him as Thomas Allord, age 35, in the newspapers. This is their son, brother, and husband.

This is certainly something that will be labeled as a "fat stretch". The crib, then? The pills? And the bloodied bathroom? Perhaps, Thomas had gotten pregnant, experienced a miscarriage in the airport bathroom and had to be rushed to the hospital. As Steve puts in the description of the baby bottle; "It wasn't meant to be." And as he writes in his journal entry, he had a dream, a baby crying in the attic, in the crib, a still born baby.

Perhaps, Thomas was ready to carry the baby--their baby and due to complications, what happened, happened. They'd already bought the crib, but put it away, and we see, maybe both of them had hope that they still had a chance, clinging on.

"If Steve and Thomas are together as you say, then why does Steve refer to Thomas as "my friend" or "my childhood friend"?" Living through life closeted brings habits, unfortunately.

I've grown up without realising that I'm trans, and it was only the past few years where I've realised that the gender I was given and raised to be, isn't who I am. Despite my family knowing, they still call me with feminine pronouns, I get referred to as "sister", or "she/her" a lot of the times. And it's become the biggest norm for me that they just fly by my head without even noticing it, without getting the chance to say "that's not my pronouns".

Is this a "weak" point of the "theory"? No, because I see it as valid. People who aren't out or don't have the chance to express who they are live day to day with being misgendered, seen as someone they're not. I don't want to say, "everybody experiences this" or that there are people who don't go through intense dysphoria that it becomes crippling; I'm just saying, that for me, this is how my day to day is today, what it's like--a sort of cynical indifference to it that boils beneath the surface of my skin.

Or, this is Steve's way to be ambiguous; Thomas was Steve's friend first before they reunited, gotten married, lived together, after all.

Maybe, he wanted to detach himself in his grief and longing. A way to protect himself from the immense loss he's going through and this is his way of doing that. By saying that Thomas was just a childhood friend, it probably eased the pain just a bit.

Or, Power Pak states in his video, isn't it strange how explicit names are never--if ever, rarely-- given. Thomas' name doesn't show up until February of 2023. Steve's name is never used. Maybe, Steve wasn't the one who wrote the journal; a third party who saw the effects of loss on Steve, instead?

In the newspaper clipping of Thomas' life, it's stated how he reconnected with his high school crush, got married and moved in with his partner. The ambiguity could mean that the family simply didn't want bigots to be bigots toward their loved one.

In Steve's clipping detailing his life, he also reconnected with his high school crush. "Soulmate", this person is described as. And like with Thomas', "partner" is used, rather something explicit like, "husband" or "wife."

Although, "wife" can't be correct either since Steve doesn't have a partner listed who outlived him, simply his family.

With MyHouse.wad being as up for interpretation as it is, there's ways of reading into things, one can take it however way they want to, where they want to.

And I, personally, like to think that Steve and Thomas are happy together, with their cat, cuddled up together in their home.

You picked up Die. "Roll for intercourse?"

I feel so helpless, like I can't do anything to bring him back. I feel so sad and it feels like my heart is heavy. I can't help but think about all of the fun times we had together growing up. All of our adventures, our secrets, and even our arguments. I miss him so much and I can't believe he's gone.

You picked up Ring. "I do."

I attended the funeral of my childhood friend, and I was overwhelmed with grief. As I looked around at everyone else in the room, I could feel the sadness in the air... I never imagined that I would be saying goodbye to my friend so soon.

You picked up Wine Bottle. "Drunk Buddy." You picked up a Bauble. "Christmas makes me happy."

Happy Valentines day to the only person I ever loved. For a short time, you brought a little happiness to this painful existence called life. I hope we can be together again one day.

You picked up Baby Bottle. "It wasn't meant to be." You picked up Pill Bottle. "Refill needed." You picked up Full Pill Bottle. "Feelin' fine."

You picked up Game Controller. "It's my turn."

Somewhere, in another dream, the version of myself that winked back is sitting on the real beach, happy and content, knowing life is finite, there is no afterlife, and happiness is found in the small things around us that we can control. Happiness has to be fought for.

[lilac-udon]

long alien stage thought will be a rough summery of all videos spoilers

I'm very new to this, so information might be missed, very messy english i wrote it for myself blehhhhh

round 1

mizi and sua, an entry with the mystery of what alien stage is. I like the stage is much smaller compared to the Round 5,6. They did a great chorus to tie their score. How Sua was supposed to be shorter but on the stage, they stand at equal height( high heels?), fitting the plan that they want so sync together and letting the audience hard to pick one winner.

In additional comics, they did explain Sua's plan to let Mizi win, I was so confused about how Sua made it work, but I found it might be how Sua placed her mic very far away in some scenes. Sua and Ivan are the logical and top students, Sua should have won easily but also have the ability make it seem like she was so close to Mizi points but still lost like naturally. I always feel like as the poster child of the alien stage, they have big plans for Sua. However, in the actual videos, sadly we have so little about her, adding how it crushed Mizi , there isn't any additional song from mizi that talks more about Sua. Different from till, we see his perspective of mizi, and Ivan gives many contexts of the place they grew up, himself, and Till from their songs.

all in all, for sua, I felt that to balance the story they will let Sua use some shape or form, whether memory or other ways to fulfill her lack of involvement.

mizisua

I will talk about this video first out of order to continue Mizi and Sua's story. Mizi is treated like a favorite cat, whereas sua is treated like an actual pet and badly. I always like this storytelling of picking Mizi as the MC, she is the most like us, humans that are not under the abuse of alien. From an owner who took good care of her, she is innocent, which is not normal in alien stage environments, she is rare. From the official, we see Sua owner has many "children" pets, and I like how Ivan and Mizi who are treated more decently have their names on their arms, and Till and Sua on their necks, which is more degrading, and convenience Mizi has her hair dyed blue for alien stage, she was looking forward to it. and I like the symbolism of how it was cut in ALL IN

side note of the children Ivan and Sua are top and popular students, Mizi is good at sports, Till likes to compose and is talent with instruments(they added they want him to skip grad which I often think if he the youngest in his class), hyuna can mimic voice(?)and natural leader, luka is a genius at singing but has health problems.

round 2

I want till to sing rock pop inspire style music again… his song is just a huge "I like you mizi, please cheer up! " the song to me is till very hot headly shut his opponent and get what he wants, attention from mizi, to wake mizi up from misery. In till eyes, mizi is pure and beautiful, I saw someone stated it like this" till sees mizi as his god, a coping mechanism considering how much he's been abused. He knows mizi is out of reach but her existence is enough for him to keep going." I have a lot to say here, first, they grow up together around 10 years and it's weird to me how sided and feel like a fresh crush. Till really kept his distance, might be the face he subconsciously knows mizi is with sua so he always put himself as an admire position. His point of view is solely on mizi but not the entire mizi, like he don't know much as a whole. But I guess this is an abusive situation because Till is very focused on what he wants to see. From the new annverisy art we also see till is on a device that makes him focuses on playing instruments. I was thinking he might be train to do that due to pain, and that's why he is composing all the time. This behavior also greatly affects him to be very focused on the things that bring him joy, mizi, and music.(guess Back to the video, He was impatient and disregarded his opponent(another person he knew from 10+yr), maybe changed the song too? , at least it became a solo after mizi felt miserable. When his opponent finally sang , he smashed his guitar to catch mizi's attention but leads to himself getting beat off the stage. And it's important that he was unconscious until the very end of round 3

round 3

black sorrow is so moving, and I can feel the weight and despair Ivan is definitely my favorite character, but that might be also a flaw in the story because he is the only character who feels like is giving a complete story, everyone is still halfway but Ivan has a started to finish. And besides that there is so much details and mystery on him which confuse me are they going to do more with this character that already feels like have more story them the mc .Even though both songs are screaming "I love you till" it also is super throughout of why he is that way, how he met till and why he likes till, etc in the song. I don't blame his action for being weird because I feel like this should be the norm in alien stage setting, those children all live under trauma and like mizi to Till, till is Ivan's purpose in life. And is also sad Ivan has so maybe symbolism of seeking freedom but he still stay by till. noted, ivan is the creepy kid, much like Luka, but when he got more mature, he was made to be a perfect model. From the round 3 video, the quality goes up, and we can see Ivan never has a collar if so, it's green(You can compare it with the other two kids on the left, at least one of them are obviously showing red, but he is green

So my question is, why does he not have a collar? What I can think of, the collar does not working on him, it's always green. second, his owner give him the privilege of not wearing one. the late one is a theory I saw, saying the alien implanted the device into his neck. second mystery, why is this boy so good at opening keys or collar??? I saw that the theory is from the first shot of getting throwing off the building, he might have try to escape with all the kids etc but still get caught, this boy is built to escape

this part I think the creator confirmed (i might be wrong) that it was Ivan's doing to lead mizi till to the cave. I think it might have this scene of till chasing the flower crown may be Ivan POV , i was thinking till might be chasing mizi or mizi is call for help, (like maybe the flower crown can fly in this universe but? we already know it camera so maybe it real they can also fly lol) Why I say this is because till collar is red, so some people has speculated it might be a heart rate for changing color but I still like to think is more of emotion detecting. So till’s face might be in panic but it looks claim in ivan pov right now, and then after the spark in the eyes, Ivan falls in love bleh bleh bleh. My interpretation is he was still testing till at this point so he set up the dog alien. and he likes the spirit of Tills giving. And the second seance he broke till out and the rest is history.

Also till is asleep most of the song so I was guessing in the garden Ivan probably already openly and straightforwardly confessed to till before but till brushes it off. I am not sure about this one, because rather till awake or not it won't change much anyway, I just think it’s ironic, that this is probably a love song for till, but till missed most of it

can I also say I think Ivan rigged the game to at least let till not face Luka or mizi first, or else I think his luck is pretty good. Also Ivan’s stage is super fancy, which I also think because he got more sponsor

round 5

soooooooooooooo, I was always confused about this part, why is part 4 an opponent in a bathtub thing on the stage? then I have a theory that this is not on the stage but Luka has the authority to see the fallen opponent. So in theory even though they are pets, my hopeful thinking is aliens still won't randomly waste their body, and how the official said Luka's owners are making the perfect contestant, can I believe they are storing the bodies? Luka is a test baby, a clone or other test is a possibility, and Luka might know more due to his ower and being a previous winner. also, this is a far fetch one, but the hair looks short and black, not like his round 4 opponent of long and brown hair sooo

I really like this, Luka is spinning around Miz like he's the moon and she's the planet

the problem is this is Luka from are point first time on screen competing, but we know this round 5 is made for him, and many symbolisms of the moon. How Luka was the previous winner and how I speculated that mizi was the most normal of the group, she was at the lowest winning level he is mocking mizi in every way, how alike he sings like sua, how the lyric, this part of he showing how much his fans love him when he is singing giving mizi the whole world

next one, I think many have already pointed out, those guards are weirdly all human in size and shape, are they robots or…?

I do need to point out , the style greatly changed in this where, round 5,6 we all feel like there is a huge time skip. It might be just the art style change or really time passes a lot, and that not impossible to see ing how till get gig in between rounds 5 to 6, it might also be years due to alien years might be translated differently to human years. to sum up, the timeline is confusing, however, round 1,2,3,4 happen at a similar time due to seeing them all in pods with the same clothing, and till faint between round 2 and woke up at round 3

back to Mizisua video, like how I said Luka resembles moon, and hyuna often associated with the earth, this is probably a human-resistant train? and on the left corner, there's an earth sticker, it might be represent humans as a whole but also hyuna

top 3

this got me confused, ok so the setting is humans are too fragile, short-living , and maybe not as intelligent as aliens so are seen as pets. Even though alien has similar fashions and make idol culture of human. Alien stage is an occurring thing and quite a big thing in this universe? so I see it like horse betting? with a lot of gambling including that can events rise an alien wealth a lot ?

I have no idea about this image but some mention something about religion, alien stage has a lot about believe in god and such but I don't have much to say currently, have no further useful thoughts about this

All In

repeat again, how the owner looks all huger but the guards look stupidly human shape and small like a human??? Aren't there big efficient robots or aliens???

farfetched because this also might be a fashion thing but the military dog tag thing is extremely human culture? it has been 50 alien stage, consider luka age of 30, mizi age of 22 , for example, if will be around 5 years each alien stage apart it should be going on for 200+ years? of human adoption, this should be rare. but whatever, I also have a theory this guy is an old solder guard thing but hasn't been brainwashed that hard but this is very silly. But why are you so buff ok? you guys should be suffering with limited resources idk. Secret military for humans only because if aliens handle humans they will squish to death easily that's my stupid theory

So the thing about luka and hyuna, good toxic straight. Luka is obsessed with hyuna and conflict with her bother and her bother dies. I did wrote a theory of hyuna and her bother anniversary art of they might be testing which on is superior or something and luka knowing that get rid of her bother etc. the blue hand showing Luka’s bad health

I always question why hyuna let mizi join the mission( obviously for plot reason and she the mc), bc Mizi should be like cage canary, super unhelpful in this situation saving till and Ivan, she is emotionally and physically not very suitable for rescue missions. My thoughts,she beg to help Ivan till because they are her only friends left, or second reason , time might pass a lot in-between , she is now able to join , third, she knows the alien stage interior design which is helpful for them. I go with the time skip then plus everything above. I also feel like because the human resistance success once they got a bit cocky, I think might be a art design thing but just how little people accompany concern me

All in is the only song not a love song but more a self love song, saw someone point out the color in the song represents emotion which is a nice touch

round 6

Till leading first I always see is the opponent let you take a bit of advantage, also how the songs go, Ivan's part is mostly the following one, not the main. That's how I felt, I'm not good with music so forget what I wort

till looks miserable, I almost don't recognize him, maybe it's the style or the time jump, he looks mature. The stage design is beautiful don't get me wrong but with the rain and lighting, I'm just going to assume it's fake and muted, bc for a singing contest, this is really a natural disaster, we won't be hearing anything from the rain, and lighting, but it's dramatic though!

I'm honestly confused about this part, it a may or may not happen, but just pointing out that they tried to collar him but possibly drugged him in the end. There may be patron information that I didn't know because I'm very confused as to what the collar is for. Let owners know how their pets are feeling and determine their level of danger. or devices to soothe them? besides the white collar till is usually seen with choker-like things, is it the same as the collar or?

the part he sees young mizi is sad, this leads more of Mizi is a coping mechanism, crush too but in time thinking of her , and the positive part of her is the only way he can cop his pain

and there already dozens of theory and thoughts about the last part so I'm goanna end it here

sum up I was thinking so hard about how they will continue because everyone automatically see till isn't able to win Luka(it's true though) and I have no idea how it should continue because it will definitely not be a traditional round 7 due to till’s state. Also wonder how the aliens will do for having two incidents of contestant violence toward one another, and Ivan being the fan favorite probably will have more delay for the last round with the organizer needing to give a response at least to the aliens. (Was thinking they make a glass to block luka and till for stage 7, would be fun, also if you really want you can jump down the stage)Mizi and hyuna are in trouble. How the overall story is very Ivan-heavy, due to him having the fullest arc. Are we getting a hyuna and Luka duit ? I really don't know how, if till sings again, it will be SUA- 2 Mizi-2 Ivan-2 Luka1 hyuna-1 song , till is going to sing a third song in this order , which is more then mc , Mizi. Will the series end? at round 7 or it will go scifi and much more to balance the song? (probably not bc all the players are dead, my hopeful thinking though )

in conclusion, I want till to sing rock again

[ecosystem-administrator]

Reintroduction

Timeline: 2.0 beginning

Mayhem Moondrop returns to Gridania for the first time in a decade, looking for a fresh start as a registered adventurer.

(I'm posting this during FFXIV Write, but it's not an entry; instead, I'm going to pin it as an introduction to my Warrior of Light.)

Luckily, they were too surprised by the sight of the Moogle, so soon after waking from another dizzy spell, to react to it out loud. As they watched it bob in the air and steal the wine of the merchant who’d joined them at an earlier stop, it became clear that they were the only one on the cart who was seeing it, and they didn’t want to start the process of returning home by convincing onlookers that they were prone to conversing with thin air.

“Have you chanced to witness anything suspicious, kupo?” The little creature hovered and dipped anxiously in the air, and after a moment’s consideration Mayhem shook their head, hoping their fellow travelers would think they were still clearing away the cobwebs. They knew what Moogles were, of course, having grown up in Gridania as a child and heard plenty of stories about them, but they’d never glimpsed one up close, and certainly never before been able to see through the glamours that concealed them when they didn’t want to be found. Maybe that, too, was related to the strange dreams and dizzy spells they’d begun having after the Calamity a few years ago? The fits had only grown more frequent when they’d returned to the Shroud’s denser aether, enough so that they’d decided to take this carriage for the final leg of their journey back to their childhood home.

The Moogle seemed disappointed but not surprised by this response, and flitted off into the woods after a bit more chatter: Mayhem watched them go, hoping that they’d have a better opportunity to converse in the future without looking like they were losing touch with reality.

The gregarious merchant who sat across from them had by this point moved past the sudden inexplicable emptiness of his wine bottle, and resumed engaging them in conversation. Bremondt, as his name turned out to be, seemed a pleasant enough fellow to pass the time with, and as the two young Elezen tucked into a corner of the cart didn’t seem eager to join in with any stories of their own, Mayhem was soon caught up in laying out their pre-adventuring background for him. They explained about the theater troupe they’d traveled with before the Calamity, first as a guard, then as a stagehand, and eventually taking small parts onstage as well. “Unfortunately, the Calamity made things too difficult for us to keep on as a group,” they sighed. “I admit I’ve been a bit at loose ends ever since; coming here to register as a guild adventurer seems like the best idea I have for a fresh start.”

“Plenty of folks lookin’ for just that, these days,” Bremondt agreed. “Did your traveling theater band ever come by Gridania, or is this your first time down this way?”

Now, Mayhem hesitated. The players had been on their way back to Gridania for the first time in a few years when the Calamity had struck, having picked Mayhem up on their previous pass through the region, before they’d hit their full growth and back when they were still going under their childhood name. So they hadn’t traveled here with the troupe, but it was far from their first time being here among the trees. Not that they felt they owed a near-stranger like Bremondt the entire truth of their story, but was it really worth coming up with a lie over something so minor?

Luckily, the man seemed to have taken their pause as a response in and of itself. “Ah, don’t mind old Bremondt,” he answered, waving off his own question. “Everyone’s got a couple dozen things they want to keep to themselves, don’t they? I don’t need to pry into what your history with the place is or isn’t, but let me update you on the latest developments, as someone who runs these roads pretty regular-like.”

Mayhem let him go on a bit about the state of the roads and the forest, the beast tribes and the merchant guilds. It had been almost a decade since they’d left the city - maybe more than that, with how hazy time had gotten for a little while in the immediate wake of the Calamity. Most of the guilds had been handed over from the masters they remembered growing up to one apprentice or another; everyone had known Beatin was the only real candidate to take over the Carpenters’ Guild, but there had been a bit of rivalry among the leatherworkers, and it was interesting to learn that the haughty and exacting Geva had been the one to come out on top in the end.

Not that they were going to let on to anyone just how well they knew these people. They’d changed enough in both name and appearance that they didn’t expect to be recognized as anything but a newcomer, and so a newcomer was what they would pretend to be. Instead they chimed in politely just enough to encourage Bremondt to keep carrying on as the carriage wound its way up toward the gates of the city, until at last they rolled to a stop.

“And here we are, lad,” Bremondt said, dismounting from the cart with a grin. “Didn’t mean to talk your ear off quite so much, but I hope some of it helped you get settled. I’ll be headed for the markets and then back on the road once I’m done there. If you don’t mind, what’s the name I should be listening for the next time I come? There’s something about you, I don’t doubt you’ll be the talk of the town soon enough.”

Mayhem grinned back at him and jumped down as well, then bowed with a flourish. “Neither lad nor lass, actually, but always a performer to the core. My name is Mayhem Moondrop, and I do indeed mean to be memorable.”

[falciesystemessays]

when i first played rhythm heaven megamix in 2016, i kind of hated the first third of it because it was easier than anything i had seen from the series before. i had 100%ed both rhds and fever, so to be completely unchallenged and get superb on everything felt strange, very strange. but then i talked to a friend of mine who actually came into the series with megamix, and it turns out doing it like that actually made it the perfect entry point. back when an ex of mine played fever and ds, it's clear there's just a skill problem with rhythm heaven where the skills you need to play well aren't something that comes naturally to everyone. they come naturally to me at this point, but that's not everybody, and some people really benefit from an easy in. so i honestly have to respect megamix for being willing to upset players like me.

truly, the developers of megamix were in a difficult situation. they had to make something that appealed to new players and seasoned players, using mostly games that those seasoned players have already played before. i can only hope they broadly succeeded on the first front (please reply with your experience if you got into the series with megamix!) but as for the second... it's strange, i think this is the perfect rhythm heaven game if you want to just keep playing rhythm heaven forever. even if you've perfected all the games, there's still the score system to constantly try again and get as high a score as possible, and the skill star to give something specific to nail in each one. and the challenges each offer a specific kind of challenge that makes all of these games fresh (exhibition match monster maw is the most dreadful bit of gameplay i've ever experienced and i hate it /positive). even though it is about 75% reused shit by volume, once i really committed myself to the path of the expert i could really appreciate what it was doing more. i still think fever is my favorite rhythm heaven game, but megamix is genuinely good, and worth playing.

[sasquach-scratches]

Unfortunately that poll of "Your Most Hated TES Game" has got me thinking again about my level of disgust across the series and tbh i kinda need to update that so I guess I'll use this to organize my thoughts lmao

For the record, though, I haven't played EVERY TES game out there and those I did weren't finished half the time

Anyways let's get into it

Arena-Actually, lemme separate them into categories cause can you REALLY compare them all equally given how different they are

The Eldest of Scrolls

Arena: Probably the only one of the old-school games I actually finished. Big ol dungeon crawler. Magic goes boom. Hard to really "hate" the game cause I don't feel too strongly about it which is funny cause it's technically the first TES game I played (I waited a month for Oblivion to arrive in the mail)

Daggerfall: Never finished it. As I understand, though, it's Arena but More. I think this is one I'd have stronger feelings about had i actually stuck to playing it till the end

Battlespire: Arena but More but Without the Extra Roleplay. Probably more polarizing but again, barely got an hour or so in lol

Dawnstar/Shadowkey/Stormhold: Never played, but want to (especially Shadowkey) I hear they're all full of jank tho so who knows if i'd enjoy it

The Modern Scrolls

Redguard: Never played.

Morrowind: Played a full game and got through half of another, but given how hogwild I go with the modern TES games it doesn't feel like it's enough to deserve that "Worlds Biggest Hater" energy from me. I do think the "combat sucks" thing is overblown, though. Not saying it's perfect but maybe y'all are too used to the actionized games and/or using the wrong weapon for your skillset. Do not like how easy it is to get lost cause if you don't have Mark/Recall or an Intervention spell you can't just jump to a familiar location.

Oblivion: In short, it's the first TES game I truly played. So I love it for that but also hate it for its shitass levelling and whitewashing of lore/the Empire in more ways than one. I love it more now because of how streamlined Skyrim is. I hate it more now cause it was definitely a low point for Bethesda's worldbuilding. LOVE the CC and I remember spending over an hour creating my first character then immediately rerolling cause oops I overdid it. It's my problematic fave

Skyrim: Love the OCs and the adventures I made for it. Hate the fandom it grew. Love the art direction in comparison to Oblivion. Hate the "gritty" filter put over it. Hate its shitass writing and quests. Love the addition of skill trees but hate their implementation. Absolutely LOATHE the downgrade to magic (idc if it's "story integration" it still sucks) Heavily dislike how little choice you get at CC as far as your skills go. 50/50 on the cosmetic side of CC cause on one hand you can't go ham on face creation but on the other you can change things like weight and nose/eye types but on the other other hand weight is just muscle mass unless you're using the fem body where it's SLIGHTLY thicker

Spinoff Scrolls 2: Finger on the Monkey's Paw Curls

Elder Scrolls Online: This one's...complicated just by virtue of being an MMO that's STILL updating. When I first played it, it was a breath of fresh air over the previous entries not just cause of different gameplay but because having multiple characters was an actual tangible thing in-game. I'm an OC whore okay. The story of the base game felt a LOT tighter, too, given it was actually linear. 'Course, the writing always felt really good or really bad and rarely was it in-between. Either way I got very, VERY invested in it in a way I knew I would never be able to experience again and I will never forget that. The CC is Phenomenal and easily the best one in any TES game so far. (Boob and ass slider? FOR MEN TOO???)

Lore also was hit or miss, with me being VERY appreciative of them touching things that Bethesda never bothered with if it wasn't for killing (i.e. types of food, clothing, toys, etc) but also while the lore team did consult with Bethesda there were and still are some glaring oversights that feel like they shouldn't have happened (especially earlier in the game's life) Given there's still some hiccups I'm guessing the Bethesda team doesn't actually consider it very important (makes sense, the main games also bend lore for the sake of gameplay/Todd's whims A LOT, just look at Oblivion lmao) I also love love love that they touch on the weirder topics, even if sometimes it's done in a way that feels too...on the nose? idk how to explain it

Recent ESO, though? Writing got more and more bland, with some standout sidequests. Lore still hit or miss so that's whatever. I stopped caring for the gameplay after...Orsinium?...when I gave up on relearning how to play with the regular changes to combat. Gave up trying to fit my OCs stories into the new content too, even with new characters (helps that they're not as developed lol) Still play out of habit but I defo think it fell off and this recent change to the yearly content doesn't seem to be helping but then I haven't touched new content since High Isle lmao

Legends: Seemed interesting but never played it much lmao, lore/story seems to follow ESO's example of being hit or miss from what I saw

Blades: It was okay I guess. Another game I developed a habit for then promptly dropped after I finished building and upgrading my town. It's a mobile game so idk what I expected, annoying ads begging for money abounded. I did all of it without paying a single cent on my Switch and it was a slog but I did it. Pretty meh about it tbh

Castles: Looks cute. Never played it and probably never will.

[whats-another-song-contest]

Where are Our Million Voices?

Though I do like Tattoo, I honestly don't get the hype around it. It's a good song, and an amazing performance, but compared to a lot of the other ESC entries this year it sounds dated. My mum has an expression we've applied to a lot of the mello songs this year: 'kindergarten pop'. While Tattoo certainly sounds a lot more mature than most of the other songs, it still has those schlager derivative mello-pop undertones we've heard develop and flourish over the past quarter century. And therein lies the problem: "quarter century".

One of the main drawing points of Hold Me Closer last year was, for me at least, the fact that it didn't sound so distinctly mello. It felt fresh. I'd say the main reason for this is that it wasn't written by Jokerdebb Gjansson, but rather by newer talent who (I presume) viewed mello as a springboard to move further, not as a factory floor where they hoped to find full-time employment.

The entry I've most felt this energy from this year is Six Feet Under, and looking at its writers we once again find that three of them are members of the band itself, and two of them completely new to the competition. These two are the first ones listed, which I assume means they're the main contributors. But like I've mentioned on here before, I find the refrain of this entry too simple and way too tame. Since I'm not familiar with the band's music from before I can't say if this is their usual style or a deviation from it, but my feeling is that this is where the mello producers have poked their fingers in the cookie jar.

I don't recall the entire process for selecting which entries get to participate, but I think I remember it involving communication between the contest producers and the song writers. The producers will send notes to the writers about things they want tweaked (and idk, maybe attach new writers to rework parts of submitted songs?), and I suspect this is a big reason why every mello song sounds like an alternate assembly of the same lego set.

My point: we need to invest in more and new toys to play with, and trust different people to play with them. More genres, different writers and performers—less repetition, more humanity. Genres exist for a reason: to speak to different aspects of the human condition. Each one has its own thesis, but by always walking the tightrope between them mello waters genres down until they lose their core appeal. Jack of all trades; master of none.

True diversity or representation isn't about finding the narrow overlap between every genre and making yourself cosy within that least offensive, widest appeal, marketing friendly corridor; let's throw open the doors! Give me entries I can love with all my heart, or despise with a burning passion. Lord knows I'm the furthest thing from a music snob—radio-friendly pop is my bread and butter—but I'm tired of shrugging every entry off as a more or less favourable variation of 'meh'—that is the opposite of entertainment.

Mello's greatest asset is the often spectacular staging of its entries, especially since this is the part where a lot of other countries end up letting their performers down. Although I'm the first to point out that Eurovision is about an entire performance and not just the song, mello has now reached the point where the music is the bottleneck holding back the quality of the performances—in a music competition. I hope Tattoo wins mello this year and that it goes on to do well at ESC, because Loreen and her performance deserve it. But an ESC winner? Personally I don't think so.

Thanks for coming to my TED talk.