#like these kinds of critiques are the kind of thing i feel like people whip out when what they really want to say is '*I* didn't like this'

[revvethasmythh]

How do you find the writing in veilguard? I won't be able to play it for a while but I'm curious how it holds up because I've heard it reads like a YA novel or that it tells instead of showing. (I'm definitely taking online reviews with a grain of salt.) Is it enjoyable writing, especially the dialogue?

Frankly, the dialogue is fine. It is nothing more "YA novel" than anything done in Inquisition that I can think of--though I do generally take umbrage with any criticism phrased like that simply for being entirely too unspecific to mean anything at all. It implies the dialogue is unsophisticated by invoking a genre that, in actuality, represents a wide variety of writing quality (just like any genre of anything ever). I've read YA novels darker and more sophisticated than some piles of adult books, just as much as vice-versa. It's a lazy critique that tells you nothing. Is all the dialogue utterly fantastic? I mean, probably not but I'm having too much honest fun to waste my time worrying about if something is kind of cliched. My biggest pros for the writing are that a) Rook has an actual personality, and b) I don't have to wade into an empty field for an hour just to hear my companions say one line of dialogue to each other (Inquisition, the game that you were, you gave me such low standards). Your mileage may vary on what you think is good writing or not personally but I think the dialogue is just fine--and, yeah. A grain of salt is good to have with critiques like that. If they can't give clear examples and break down what they mean by that in more depth, I tend to ignore critiques of that variety in favor of my own opinions, which I recommend you do for yourself as well.

[omegalomania]

people bitching and moaning about fob "turning mainstream" as if that was never the entire point of fall out boy. that's In the goddamn dna of the band, it's baked into the ethos of why the band started in the first damn place. to be accessible to kids and especially to girls, who were often ridiculed and shunted out of the hardcore community. to be a gateway to bands that aren't as mainstream. to comment on the society they live in, as they live in it. people act like fall out boy "turning mainstream" was some kind of "betrayal" when from the start they were seizing on the trends of the time, putting their unique, unhinged fall out boy spin on them, and shooting them back out as a funhouse mirror. take this to your grave capitalized on the pop-punk zeitgeist that was big in the late 90s and early aughts and put their own spin on it: enmeshed catchy choruses with high-dexterity lyrical & linguistic skewerwork. infinity on high was basically a massive critique of the scene they were in - this ain't a scene it's a goddamn arm's race is a fucking thesis statement on what it is to be catapulted into fame in an industry that wants nothing more than a thousand cookie-cutter copycat acts of a successful formula, and fall out boy WAS the formula everyone desperately wanted to emulate. american beauty / american psycho blended sampling and modern hip-hop stylings with polished pop-rock and pointed those songs back at the snapshot of the 2010s we all lived in: commenting on racial injustice and the freeze-frame nature of relevancy. but even then they weren't doing it quite right - because fall out boy never does things quite right, they're never quite conventional, whether it's wentz's darkly confessional lyrics double-bagged in metaphor or stump's distinctive clear tenor or trohman's inescapable rock 'n roll edge or hurley's thunderous hardcore-punk-rock soul.

this band has always been too clever for its own critics, is the thing. but then, they always knew that. they knew they had a thriving fanbase of largely female fans so they were going to be mocked and belittled and ridiculed. they weren't quite right. they weren't quite so easy to market. pete wentz had to have all his hard edges filed off and cut down to size, skin lightened, literally whitewashed ("i feel like a photo that's been overexposed") to hell and back, even as he was marketed as the pretty boy of the band. and the other three members never even bothered with the spotlight: the soft-spoken vegan straightedge anarchist drummer and the wry, wisecracking, whip-clever guitarist who was more concerned with being the connective tissue than anything and the reticent vocalist who sang the words and wrote an awful lot of music but wasn't really the guy fronting the band. wentz's charisma carried the band, because the rest of them were really just some guys and never aspired to be anything else.

fall out boy is too pop. fall out boy is too mainstream. fall out boy isn't the real poster child of the emo movement. other bands are better. even within fall out boy's own narrative, they are repeatedly ignored, sidelined, and belittled, as though they weren't one of the only acts from the big 00s emo-pop movement to successfully not just survive the transition from the aughts to the '10s, and then later from the '10s to the '20s, but to thrive in it without banking on nostalgia. this band was supposed to be a flash in the pan. they weren't supposed to last and they weren't supposed to get big. they started off in joe's parents' attic because joe and pete were sick of how exclusionary and homophobic the hardcore scene was.

i think it's high time that people acknowledge how fall out boy has repeatedly succeeded where most of their other peers failed. cunning, clever, capable, and hyper-aware of the space they occupy in the culture surrounding them. that they are just as powerful, important, and artistic as any of the other bands in the scene that others might deify at their expense. that they deserve a hell of a lot more respect than they get from critics or hardcore punks who think they sold out. i hope one day they get that recognition. because they've earned it, time and time again, and the more i see people pushing back against that, the more certain i become of its inevitability.

[sufferu]

Do you think Emilia suffer/may suffer from " Creator's Pet " syndrome? It seems to me she does fit two of them: Hated and despised by some fans Loved (or worshipped) by the writer(tappei),is his favorite

I think that’s her main problem, tbh — and honestly, it’s the only real writing critique that I have about Re:Zero as a whole. It doesn’t matter to me what other fans think about her character in this regard: that’s always like. A bit of a coin flip, who exactly is gonna become the widespread favorite or whipping boy. What matters to me is that Tappei 1) leans on what he seems to consider her inherent likability, often without actually justifying it to the audience, and 2) is terrified of actually making her unlikeable.

That first point first: Tappei tends to Assume that the audience likes Emilia just as much as he does, and because of this I feel like he doesn’t tend to lay the groundwork necessary to actually make that the case.

This is pretty subjective, I don’t have a whole lot of really objective moments to point to here, so someone else might think I’m totally off the mark — but I feel like sometimes we’re expected to believe that Emilia is some amazingly capable and talented person while the moments where she’s actually allowed to back it up are few and far between. Most of them are also — honestly really simple? And very much tied up in her being a super powerful fighter, instead of in her being intelligent, or quick-witted, or even in her being particularly empathetic. That last one works a LITTLE bit, because that’s basically the whole reason Subaru fell so hard for her, but even then I think I can count on one hand the number of times Emilia’s boundless kindness has actually earned her a powerful character moment/victory in the main storyline (first loop of Arc 1 + the reveal that she always stopped to help Plum, Lap Pillow Scene, Emilia’s conversation with Madelyn…?? Maybe there’s something in her conversation with Ram in Arc 4???) and otherwise it’s only really Referenced rather than Shown. And when that’s one of your LEAD CHARACTERS, it’s just not enough.

The second point, though, is the one that I actually consider more important: Emilia isn’t given enough moments where she’s allowed to be genuinely unlikeable.

The whole reason why Subaru is such a beloved character is because he’s allowed to be a fuck-up sometimes. He is allowed to fall, and fall HARD, and get raked through the coals so bad for it that you can still taste the blood three arcs later. Fuck, he’s allowed to fuck up so bad that he becomes the Reason so many people straight up dropped the first season. And that makes him interesting, and multifaceted, and it makes his good moments mean so much more. This is what I consider the Secret to good character writing: if you want the audience to like that character, give them moments where they are genuinely, unapologetically ugly. This is why Bakugou is the best character in BNHA (fight me): Bakugou is allowed to be UGLY.

And the thing is: Tappei doesn’t normally HAVE this problem. Ram comes off like she’s being a fucking asshole for basically no reason, Otto is a conniving little shit, Julius introduced himself by beating the everloving snot out of the then-self-insert character, Felt abandoned Subaru to get beaten bloody in an alley in her very first scene, Anastasia, Priscilla, and Crusch all had a moment where they basically spat in Subaru’s face (even if Anastasia was trying to help it was very much a Tough Love moment), Wilhelm basically caused the Astrea Family Circus, Rem gets all of Arc 7 to throw her very carefully constructed Waifu persona completely out the window — fuck, Subaru is the MAIN CHARACTER and Arc 3 is basically just “Subaru Cringe Compilation.” So when Emilia is basically the only character who isn’t allowed to be ugly — it stands out, and not in a good way.

We have had Emilia as the secondary lead for basically eight arcs at this point (six if you don’t count the Vollachia Saga), and — look, I’m not an Emilia hater, but can you really say that she has anywhere near as much depth as Subaru does, or even as much as some of the secondary characters? She just doesn’t, or if she does then it’s not adequately explored, and it’s because she’s not allowed to be Nasty sometimes. In fact — there is exactly one moment I can think of where she’s genuinely, unambiguously allowed to be in the wrong: Arc 4, when she runs away from everyone to hide from her responsibilities currently threatening to crush her and has to be found and chewed out by Subaru. And it is one of her BEST moments. Arc 4 in general is considered Emilia’s greatest arc so far, and it is BECAUSE she was allowed to have a moment where she was WRONG.

But Tappei has basically never given us another moment like that because he wants the audience to like her, and at some point it just — look, at some point the hand of the author becomes obvious. When you have basically every character Emilia meets talk about how much they like her and have That define her kindness more than any actual Moments on her part, when you refuse to make even the most vicious of characters dislike or talk shit about her despite everyone else getting a chance to earn someone else’s ire in some form or another, when you spend two whole arcs away from her and then immediately open back in on how amazing she is without even giving us a reminder about Why she’s supposed to be so amazing (having another character describe her as amazing doesn’t count) — it becomes too obvious that Tappei just Really Wants the audience to like Emilia, and at some point That Alone becomes aggravating enough to make people biased against her just on principle.

Anyway those are my thoughts lol. This is legit the only real criticism I, personally, have of the story — but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t aggravate me a LITTLE bit. I don’t want to like Emilia, I want to LOVE her — I want to love her as much as Tappei does — but she has to earn it like everyone else, and Tappei seems a little to adverse to actually letting her Do That.

[katnissdoesnotfollowback]

For "Never Have I Ever"

...Chef Peeta/Server or Food Critic Katniss? (Or some such variation of this)

Yes chef? 🫦

Madame. You are already on my shit list for the number of fic idea documents I've added to my drive because of you. Clearly you are determined to badger me into writing this one, and le sigh. I like it. A lot. So much so that I have two options for you:

Option A: When Katniss left her home town at the age of eighteen, she had no intention of returning. Ever. Too many painful memories, like a pregnancy at the age of sixteen that ended in miscarriage. Or her father's death while she was still grieving the loss of her baby. Her mother's suicide attempt. The way all of that left her so raw that she destroyed her relationship with her high school sweetheart.

Now Katniss writes a food critique column with her work partner, Gale. They specialize in small restaurants with unique "local flavor." Then their boss assigns them to a newly opened restaurant in her home town, and Katniss begs Gale to do all the work this time. Their boss refuses to let her off the hook once he finds out Katniss grew up in that town, but a last minute family emergency with Gale's mother results in Katniss checking in alone to the only decent hotel in town.

Of course, she didn't do her research and when she calls to make a reservation for that night, she finds out the restaurant she's meant to review closes early on Thursdays. Stuck in town for an extra night, Katniss makes her way to the one decent bar in town. She's already a few drinks in when old news walks through the door.

Despite all the hurt lingering between them, it's clear that the sparks are still there, and Katniss never could resist Peeta Mellark's kind blue eyes or his sweet, shy smile. Which is why, even though a one night stand with her high school sweetheart is a horrible idea, Katniss convinces herself she won't ever see him again anyway.

On Friday night, Katniss eats at what she quickly deems "a hidden gem almost good enough to make me move back home." Enchanted with the food and the ambiance, she asks to meet the chef and is granted her request.

Suddenly, she finds a hundred and one things wrong with the food.

As much as he wishes he had, Peeta knows he's never stopped loving his high school sweetheart. He tried dating other girls after they lost their baby and Katniss left his heart in shreds, but no one seemed able to fill the hollow feeling inside his chest. Which is probably why, when he sees her in Abernathy's Pub, he reverts to his teenage stupidity. Even though she tells him that she's only in town for one night, he still returns flirt and somehow winds up in bed with her.

Of course, it doesn't matter that the sex was incredible, she's still gone when he wakes up in the morning. So he throws himself into his work, the one thing that's kept him sane all these years.

At least until one of his servers bring Katniss into his kitchen, claiming she wanted to meet the chef and introducing her as one of the writers behind the famous Local Flavor food critique column. Small restaurants like his live or die by her reviews, and she's got nothing good to say about his place.

Lovers to haters back to lovers, second chance romance fic. Spicy up front followed by a long, slow simmer.

Option B: For the life of him, Peeta cannot seem to keep a staff in his kitchen. His best friend Delly, the kindest person he knows, has suggested that maybe it's because he's too soft. Too kind, and people take advantage of him. Enter Katniss Everdeen (aka Gordon Ramsey ala Nightmare Kitchen) to whip Peeta's struggling restaurant into shape. Tempers flare and it gets hot in the kitchen until things come to a boil one night while Katniss and Peeta are alone, trying out new recipes. Peeta orders her to do something and she responds the way she's been training his new staff to respond. "Yes chef!" And Peeta discovers that he likes hearing her say that to him... a whole lot more than he should. He wants to find out if there are any other ways he can get her to say it or otherwise moan it...

Spoiler alert. He does find out, and discovers that she likes saying it to him as much as he likes hearing it.

Never Have I Ever

<3 kdnfb

[lemonhemlock]

Sansa says to Tyrion: “You’re afraid of her.” And Tyrion replies: “Every good ruler needs to inspire a bit of fear.”

Is that true? Should every good ruler do that?

Should Sansa be afraid of her and was her behavior towards Daenerys smart?

I feel like it was, Sansa's stance against kneeling to Daenerys was not just about defiance; it was a strategic move reflecting her commitment to Northern independence and sovereignty. Sansa's refusal to kneel to Daenerys wasn't about provoking her for the sake of it. It was a calculated decision to assert Northern autonomy and ensure that any alliance with Daenerys was on equal terms. Kneeling would have symbolized submission, potentially compromising the North's ability to negotiate from a position of strength. Sansa understood the risks but believed that standing firm was crucial for preserving Northern identity and security.

What an interesting question! Unfortunately, I was taught only one seminar class on Machiavelli during my one History of the Middle Ages course,* so I'll not insist on the discourse on whether he was writing satire, was being deceitful, opportunistic (my teaching assistant at the time certainly thought he was!) or was genuinely writing a <mirror for princes> in the hopes of Italian unification as he may have seen tyrants as an effective political typology who could achieve that goal. Others more well-read than me can comment much more in-depth on this topic.

*I know this is the Renaissance, it was an expansive course, alright. :)

The question should at least begin with a discussion around Machiavelli IMO because he is very obviously the most famous source for the quote and the majority of the population familiar with this quandary have most likely heard it in association with him. But it's very telling that the idea of being feared is the one D&D latched on to, no? This reminds me of that Twitter meme of red flag books you see in men's houses after going on a couple of dates and the list contained titles like The Prince, American Psycho, Atlas Shrugged, How to Win Friends and Influence People etc.

Even so, even if you take the text at face value, that's not exactly what the man says, is it? He is pondering several options. In fact, let me whip out my copy of The Prince I bought way back in the cretaceous period for Year 1.

Even if you believe he is being genuine here and not just sucking up to (or trying to placate) Lorenzo di Medici, he is saying that love & fear > fear > fear and hatred. So, whatever you do, make sure you are not hated. And what is a sure-fire way to getting hated? Taking people's stuff! "Above all, a man must refrain from seizing the property of others, because a man is quicker to forget the death of his father than the loss of his patrimony"! And how does Dany answer Sansa's question of "what do dragons eat"? What does she say? "Whatever they like." Does whatever they like perchance include the assets of the Northerners, like cattle and sheep? Hmmm.....

In any case, Machiavelli was an ardent Republican, so why is he giving advice to princes? There is a contradiction that lies at the heart of this question and in how fandom perceives some elements of ASOIAF as well. Authoritarian rulers and tyrants can be very effective. It doesn't mean we should accept or normalize authoritarian rule. These two things are not in contradiction. Machiavelli doesn't have to believe, in his heart of hearts, that tyrants are preferable; he can simply write about how to make them efficient. And, again, I'm leaving the conversation about his true intentions to others who have genuinely studied the issue, because it is still under debate.

How I'm redirecting this back to ASOIAF is by pointing out that a lot of critiques of Westerosi rulers are hesitant to characterize any kind of imperious or strongman ruler as efficient, even when the text doesn't point to any material issue that might undermine their rule. Tywin Lannister and Walder Frey are examples of this. To my knowledge, there is no real contestation of their rule by their bannermen or smallfolk and they are not exactly the warmest individuals. Yes, they die, because they are the playthings of the author and he is killing them to make a thematic point. Not because they were overthrown by their underlings or in a peasant revolt. Tywin is killed by his own son in an act of personal revenge that has nothing to do with politics. Walder Frey is killed similarly by Arya in the show (in the books he is still alive). But, that doesn't mean that, in the real world, rulers like Stalin don't exist and are not successful and always pay for their crimes.

I would thus advance the proposition that GRRM does think that tyrants might be effective, but not that they should be endorsed and definitely the endgame of the series will not involve another tyrant on the throne, because he has power over these characters and he can eliminate whomever he wants from the narrative if he doesn't believe they fit the profile for the type of ruler he is looking for.

Ping-pong-ing back to the show, the question is ultimately a misunderstanding of the themes by D&D. They conflate being effective with being a "good" ruler. And it is important to define that efficiency in the first place! Machiavelli talks a lot about how to maintain your seat as a prince once you've got it. And the discussion on love vs fear happens in the context of how to prevent oneself from acquiring the ire of the population / one's subalterns and prevent being ousted. But would that truly be the trait GRRM is looking for in his ideal model of a king? A good king being one who efficiently held onto the crown? What about policy? What exactly is Dany's policy for Westeros? She has none in the show. In the books she has none as well, but at least she hasn't reached Westeros there yet, so there may be time for her to formulate something.

Regardless, the population shouldn't be afraid of its rulers, who serve for them. The only reason one should feel fear in relation to one's rulers is because they are judicious applicators of the law and would mete punishment accordingly if one has committed a crime. This is very much an idealistic manifestation of the relationship between the two, but it is not an entirely new concept. Even in the context of the divine right of kings,* there existed paternalistic notions of benevolence (noblesse oblige being one such manifestation), the idea that the upper classes have social responsibilities to care and protect the vulnerable and those less fortunate. So the idea of the elites being indebted in a way (or more like having a duty towards) the populace has always permeated political thinking. Of course, in the case of unjust rulers, philosophers like Thomas Aquinas also condoned tyrannicide (legally permitted in Ancient Greece, too). So, I would so as far as to say that there is basis enough to argue that a "good" ruler is one who cares for their people and doesn't abuse them or incite negative associations such as fear - and that it's probably what GRRM also has in mind when writing these godforsaken books.

*although I suppose I should mention that the idea that God granted monarchs authority to rule predates the coinage of that term, which is essentially absolutist in phrasing, because we are LARP-ing medieval times here and that predates the absolutist monarchy, contrary to what viral posts will have you believe (no, I will never shut up about this).

As for the second part of your question, yes, I would say that in the context of the show, Sansa refusing to kneel to Dany would be consistent with the goal D&D gave her, namely Northern independence. So it wasn't about antagonizing Daenerys the person or playing mind games, it was about achieving her political objective and implementing her own policies, as Sansa was one of the only characters shown to care about the logistics of survival, ensuring the needs of her population and caring for them as best as she could. Had she failed, Daenerys would have kept asking for her armies and money in order to fight in her world domination tour - a loss of resources that Sansa wanted to prevent.

Please bear in mind, though, that a lot of this is coloured by the weird decision to have Cersei be the final villain to defeat, whereas it's much more likely that in the books the battle against the wights is going to be the final, major battle. It's likely that the dynamics in the books will be different - not saying that Dany and Sansa are going to be bffs, but Jon, for instance, could have a much greater political involvement, one would hope, instead of being reduced to moodily repeating 3 lines. Also, Dany's public perception might very well change if she, IDK, murders her alleged nephew Aegon VI or engages in other endearing brouhaha.

[discountdemonwarehouse]

Kinktober 2024 - Softober - Scary Movies

It's short today, I'm feeling under the weather and not super inspired today.

BUT! You get Gabe and Vinnie trying to watch ghost hunting shows while suffering period cramps, interrupted by Terzo and Secondo who are critiquing things.

AO3 Link

Keep reading below the cut! No smut today

        Everyone was having a pain day. Val was having a flare up in his bad leg, and Vinnie and Gabe were both dealing with bad period cramps. They had invited him to watch movies, but Val had declined, wanting nothing more than to stretch out in bed. “You should try the hot tub at the gym,” Vinnie told him. He grunted, shaking his head. “I don’t think so.” “I know you don’t like people, so if you’re awake anyways, go down at like 1:30a.m. Avoid the after-supper crowd though.” Val gave her a distasteful look. “Hey, just an idea. It’s in-ground, with steps, so you should be able to get in and out okay. Copia would probably happily go with you.” He sighed, wanting the conversation to stop. “Fine. I’ll think about it.” “Do you want me to send Swiss over with some special brownies?” Gabe offered. “No! Just–” He paused, collecting himself. “I just need to stretch out. But thank you for offering.” “Hope you feel better soon,” the other two offered almost simultaneously.

        Gabe and Vinnie ensconced themselves in Terzo’s papal apartment, with Vinnie dragging all the bedding onto the couch. “It’s clean, housekeeping switched all the bedding this morning,” she told Gabe, piling the pillows up. “So long as it wasn’t crusty I wasn’t too concerned,” he joked back. “What kind of snacks do we want? I can probably get Omega to get us a bunch of stuff if we make sure he gets some too.” “The usual. Popcorn, chips, candy, drinks…” Vinnie nodded, whipping out her phone to text Omega to ask nicely if he would help them out. “Oh, can’t forget the pain killers, hang on.” She retrieved stuff from the bathroom, setting it on the coffee table. “Okay, horror movies or ghost hunting videos?” Gabe asked, turning on the TV from his nest on the couch. “Maybe ghost hunting? I don’t think I want to have a jump scare happen and birth a jellyfish, you know?” “Birth a jellyfish?” “You know when you cough/sneeze/laugh/whatever on your period and then a bunch of stuff comes out?” “Ohhh right.” Gabe was thoughtful for a moment. “Yeah, okay, lame ghost hunting videos it is!”

        Omega dropped by later, bringing their snacks and checked on them both. “You know I could use some quintessence to help you out, right?” Both Vinnie and Gabe waved their hands dismissively. “This gives us the excuse to do nothing and watch shit. Feel free to join – but don’t touch our blankets.” “Yeah!” Gabe agreed. “Maybe another time,” Omega chuckled. “But I will take some of this licorice.” The ghoul headed out, and the other two settled back in to watch their choices. There was much laughing at the videos, either because funny things happened or because things were ridiculous, and also much jeering. They stuffed their faces with their snacks and rooted through the blankets and pillows in search of dropped popcorn or candy. At some point the apartment door opened and Terzo and Secondo stepped inside. “I told you they'd be together,” Secondo laughed. “I’m pretty sure Gabe sees more of Vinnie than I do, and I live with her.” Both Gabe and Vinnie glared over the couch, shushing the two men.

        The two Papas settled at the cafe set behind the living room, Terzo making drinks for both of them. “Do you want anything?” he called to the two on the couch. “Hot chocolate?” Vinnie asked, peering over the back of the couch. Terzo nodded, Vinnie poked Gabe with her foot. “You want a hot chocolate?” “Sure. Please. Thanks Papa Terzo.” “Yeah, thanks, Daddy.” Vinnie smirked as she saw Terzo’s eye twitch. “Keep that up and you’ll get nothing,” he grumbled. Vinnie grinned and turned back to the TV. In a few minutes, Terzo placed the mugs of hot chocolate on the table for them. “Ooo you found the marshmallows I stole from the kitchens!” “Vinnie! Stop stealing from the kitchens!” “I need enrichment!” she whined. Terzo groaned, walking away and waving a hand at her.

        The Emeritus brothers half listened to the shows their partners were watching. Eventually one episode sucked them in, and both men started critiquing the ritual being discussed and the Latin pronunciations, as well as correcting the information about a supposed demon being referenced. “No, no, that is definitely not who is in that house. They would never !” Secondo ranted. “They have better things to do than that – they might allow a lower ranking one to do it though.” Terzo made a noise of disagreement, “They run a pretty tight ship really.” The people in the video started reading a Latin inscription they found. “That’s now how you pronounce that, at all,” Terzo hissed in irritation. “They’re worried they’ll accidentally summon the demon if they say that, but all they’re going to do is confuse them!” Secondo chortled. Vinnie looked at Gabe. “Does he talk through all your shows?” Gabe sighed. “Yeah, sometimes.” Vinnie nodded, “Good to know it’s a family trait… Bastardos .” She turned. “SHUSH.” Both Papas responded in tandem, with a firm, “No.” “Ugh!” Vinnie flopped back on the couch, reaching for the remote to turn up the volume. “Rude.”

[videogaems]

Steam Next Fest - June 2024

Dungeons and Degenerate Gamblers It feels easy to say 'Balatro Clone'. BUT if you say that about this game, you are openly admitting that you only see playing cards and have no nuance, just like everyone said. Dungeons and Degenerate Gamblers (Or D&DG as I'm going to refer to it, to save my little fingies the typing) is a roguelike blackjack battler. Those words feel confusing to stitch together but just follow me.

You choose your suit (different suits have different abilities, and the game equates this to difficulty) and begin playing blackjack against an opponent. You are always able to see their cards, unlike regular blackjack, and whoever of the two players wins does damage to the other players health pool, amounting to the difference between your final hands. Going over 21 results in your hand value being reduced to zero, in which case be prepared to take 17 full points of damage to the face.

As you win against opponents, you will acquire new cards for your deck, much like Balatro. Your opponents will also be acquiring these cards, much unlike Balatro.

There is also a mechanic of some cards being manually 'Exploited' (Read as: Activated), but in order to Exploit a Card, you must have Advantage (Read as: Points). This isn't explained well in the game *at all* in my opinion, but as you can see I figured it out using my brain and eyes, much to my chagrin.

I don't think I'll be Wishlisting D&DG, but it does the thing I like: It's a weird spin on a concept you know. And it works! I'll be curious to see if this catches on with the Balatro crowd, but I will certainly recommend it to roguelike and deckbuilding fans.

Dungeon Clawler I won't lie, when I saw that this was a dungeon crawler where you play a crane game to fight people, I automatically assumed this was my shit. I will say that it's kind of my shit, but it's not as 'my shit' as I originally thought it would be. Gameplay is cool and straightforward, you get two chances per turn to drop a claw into a claw machine and pull out symbols. The symbols you pull out will have some kind of effect (swords do damage, shields block damage, etc). By winning fights, you amass coins and new symbols to add to your crain machine that have varying effects.

By and large, the game is a cool idea but I'm not wild about execution. Now, Baron Mind® that this game is still in development so the following critiques may not apply someday BUT:

The art style is that kind cel-drawn images squash and stretch to imply movement, but it ends up kind of looking chinsey. It was the first thing I noticed, but maybe that's just because of how offput I am by that artistic choice.

Second, a banger of a soundtrack, even if it is just a remix of the Type B song from Game Boy Tetris, it's pretty good. But, zero sound effects. None at all, which filled me with discontent. I'm seeing attacks, I'm getting shields, I need noise.

Again, probably not a Wishlist for me but good execution on a great idea.

Tactical Breach Wizards

This was probably the breakout hit for me this Next Fest, and I will absolutely buy this day one (And hope the demo works after the fest is over). The third in the Defenestration Trilogy by Tom Francis - Which also includes Heat Signature (maybe one of my favorite games of all time) and Gunpoint (A game that, years after it came out, I found out I have a friend whose brother did the music - small world).

In Tactical Breach Wizards, it is the modern world, but magic exists. You are a team of magic users who are also a SWAT team. And when I say SWAT, I want you to imagine all the straight-to-DVD action movies that are marketed to the people who are military nerds, but never actually joined the military - It's that. I mean, one character is effectively Gandalf in Desert Camo with an M14 that has a staff sticking out of it, another has a wand with a laser sight and a silencer. It whips ass.

Gameplay is a lot like XCom, with one cool feature being that your wizard can see one second into the future, so after finishing your turns, you can forsee how the enemy will react, and rewind your turn as far back as you like, as many times as you want in order to achieve your desired outcome.

Honestly, I could rave about this game for a while. The gameplay, the style, the writing, everything is just aces, and this immediately breached the door to my Steam wishlist and killed everyone inside. Can't wait for August.

Caravan Sandwitch

I was unsure how to feel about Caravan Sandwitch. You play a girl who is returning to her hometown after a long time away, and reuniting with friends while driving a van.

The art style? Fantastic. Really just an absolute dream to look at and play. The setting? Eh... Now, don't get me wrong, I'm a big fan of games that don't hold your hand to explain the world lore, and just kind of let you figure it out through context. Caravan Sandwitch does try to do that, but it falls short, and you end up feeling like a third wheel to these characters, rather than being in the shoes of the character you're playing.

While you explore, the game will have pillows sitting about in hard-to-reach places that effectively serve as collectible lookout points, where your character will just chill and observe the surroundings. These moments are peaceful, and personally I'd love to see more games do something like this, in an effort to make the player really observe the effort put into the environment (A thing I fail to do often)

However, other than that, Caravan Sandwitch didn't really grip me and I probably won't keep up on it.

Dustborn

Another entry in forgettable-single-name-game-titles-that-are-portmanteaus. Dustborn has you follow a group of characters in a band, traveling across the country on a tour in an effort to get to Nova Scotia, which seems to be some kind of safe haven in a military-state America.

Again, the Art style in this game is fantastic, everything is very comic book stylized, even the button prompts, but the demo jumps between moments in the first couple hours of the game without giving you a lot of info as to what is going on. I was surprised when combat was introduced, and thrilled when it included a baseball bat that you can throw and retrieve like the Leviathan Axe in God of War. Well, not quite like the Leviathan Axe... it's posited that way, but ultimately ends up being a ranged attack that just automatically returns to you. Combat was very floaty and just didn't have that je-ne-sais-quois that makes combat feel good.

The game also contained a rhythm action sequence that was reminiscent of Gitaroo Man, another fave of mine, but that wasn't enough to make me want to follow up.

BUS: Bro U Survived

I dislike this game on name alone, and playing it didn't really help much. Points to it for having customization options to let me have a handlebar mustache, but this game just kind of boils down to a co-op zombie survival game in a cartoony style where you have to drive a bus sometimes. I only clocked 26 minutes in this game, and to be fair, I was playing solo (What, I'm supposed to make friends?), but this game didn't hold me for very long. Even as I write this I'm trying to remember much about it, and it just ended up being very forgettable.

Wizard of Legend 2

Hell yeah. HELL YEAH. I forget how I even found out about the original Wizard of Legend, but it's a fun roguelike that I recommend. I was unaware that a sequel was even in the works, so this was a delight to find out about, and an even bigger delight to play.

Players will play the role of a wizard attempting to complete a legendary challenge, with the idea that each run is a new wizard's attempt, since the last one died. Choose spells of different elements, speed, and power, and try to find combinations that mesh well together. I had a lot of fun using a wind vortex to pull all enemies to me, and then hitting the lot of them with chain lightning. Even for a demo, I could see myself sinking a lot of time into this (and I'm hoping it's still playable after Next Fest). This one makes the Wishlist for sure, and I'm looking forward to the release.

Aloft

I found Aloft very disappointing. Yet another first person crafting survival game with the hook being that eventually you make a glider that you can use to zip around the world.

The demo is in Alpha, as the devs will make known quickly, and the game made known to me quickly, since I encountered a bug early on that I had to visit the steam forums to make sense of. While going through the tutorial prompts, after collecting leaves and wood and shit like that, I was prompted to craft a Glider at the Glider station. Oh boy, it's finally my time to fly! But wait, I don't have a Glider Station. What's more, I can't build a Glider Station. Where is the Glider Station? Is this 'Glider Station' in the room with us right now?

Eventually I learned that this is a bug - the game is supposed to give you more prompts to guide you up the mountain in the game, where you will learn how to make the Glider station, and THEN you are supposed to get the prompt to build your glider. To drive that point forward: The. Tutorial. Is. Bugged. The thing that teaches you how to play the game does not work correctly. I know it's Alpha, and I know I don't make games, but this seems like such an oversight.

Finally, I made my Glider, and took off. It was... fine. The camera cuts to third person when this happens, but your character is so stiff and rigid flying around. It felt cool to zip around, but it didn't feel good if that makes any sense.

Maybe I'll circle back around on Aloft when it's in Beta or 1.0, but this just wasn't it for me.

Goblin Cleanup

But this was!!! Play as a goblin henchman whose job it is to clean up and reset all the traps in the dungeon before the next group of heroes arrive! For some reason, gamified mundane shit always gets me, and this game was no exception.

Goblin cleanup is almost beat-for-beat a reproduction of Viscera Cleanup Detail. Instead of a mop, you stab a slime and poke bloodstains with it until it soaks them all up (and dies?!). Instead of washing the mop, you feed the slime to a mimic, so on and so forth. Some improvements include:

Structure. You're given a list of tasks to complete, and they are checked off as you complete them. As a person with ADHD Inattentive Type, lists are key for me, so this was a big improvement over Viscera Cleanup Details approach of 'Clean until you're done and we'll tell you if you did good'. I'm neurodivergent with a praise kink, you've gotta tell me I'm doing good while I'm doing good.

Scanning. Hitting Q at any given point will highlight on your HUD where there are still items to be cleaned up. Massive improvement over Viscera Cleanup Detail, where you just have to kind of eyeball it.

I liked this! A lot! I could see myself buying this, or even just going back and trying to finish the level proper before NextFest is over.

Pawn Planet

I'm a massive mark for shop-owning games, and even more so if the game has a mechanic for haggling. Pawn planet has both, and by and large, I enjoyed it. The premise is simple, you run a pawn shop on a remote planet. Aliens come in an buy the stuff you have, or try to sell you things. When they approach the register you are given stats on the customer, like Anger, Knowledge, and Greediness. Using this, as well as the condition of the item you are buying or selling, you haggle on a price until one of you coughs up the cash. After the day is over, you can buy supplies to repair the items to make your money back.

Some days, there will be an auction at a storage planet where you roll the bones and bid on a Storage Locker of random items, storage wars style. Not going to lie, this had me hyped until I got fleeced on a board game I paid way too much for.

Other days, you will travel through a portal and ostensibly raid an alien base in order to murder civilians and take their stuff to sell. Okay, so the game doesn't say that, but the game also doesn't explain who these people are or why you are shooting them in the face. This section was underwhelming - The shooting isn't super tight, and you just sort of strafe and click on the aliens until they blow up. Not to mention there was some confusing placement of items in the alien base; Why are you putting what is obviously a safe in this room if it is not intended that I should try to crack it open and steal the rest of whatever was left in these creature's will?

Other bugbears included the fact that when you buy an item, only that item will come to your shipping bay, and you must remove it before you can buy another item. So in a situation where I needed three separate items, I needed to leave the computer, go to the shipping bay, retrieve it, and return to the computer... three separate times. Also, when traveling to the storage planet, I had to click where I wanted to go on my computer inside, then go outside to the spaceship to leave. These are small grievances, but the question and the sometimes vowel remains: Why?

This one gets a rec from me, I didn't spend too much time with it but I did enjoy it overall. Hoping that the finished product has a bit more polish.

The Alters

From the trailers I've seen of this game, it seems cool, but I didn't get far enough in the demo to really see the meat and bones. Which is to say I didn't get far enough to see any of the titular Alters. I, instead, ran headfirst into some radiation at some point, and lost about 10 minutes worth of progress that I just didn't have the nerve to redo, so I bailed. Luckily, these NextFest demos seem to not have expired, so maybe I'll go back and give it another shot.

In the meantime, there are a lot of Death Stranding vibes, a game I loved, and a base building mechanic similar to XCOM, yet another game I like. I think this has legs, and I enjoy the idea of alternate versions of the main character helping him out, but again - I didn't get there.

I dunno... seems neat.

Demonschool

This came at the recommendation of a friend, and I simply could not wrap my head around it. I'm a real sucker for teenagers at a weird school doing paranormal stuff, but the combat system felt very obtuse. One character only buffs, and two characters only attack. You choose the actions they will take but just kind of clicking around (not actually selecting the skills, just sort of running the character into targets), and then they play out those actions once your turn has concluded. Which I sort of get why, but it's still very disorienting. I only stuck around for two combats, so I can't say this is for me, but if you're into visual novelesque storytelling with Into the Breach Combat, this may be your cup of tea.

Reka

I think I remember seeing a trailer for this game during the Wholesome Direct or Cozy Direct or whatever the hell in 2023, but it seemed cool, and it is. This is effectively a base building game, except you're a young witch training under Baba Yaga and the base is a giant chicken house that you can drive around. It's pretty tight. Your character only looks like a haunted doll, regardless of what features you choose, and the controls are very floaty but I think this has a lot of potential. My first action once getting my Bird House was to see how big I could make the platform it sits upon, and the answer is 'pretty big'. This was one of a few demos that I actually saw through to the end, so I think that says quite a bit. Hoping the full release has some meat on these Chicken House Bones.

Thank Goodness You're Here!

I'm going to file this one under Biggest Disappointment of the Fest. I typically try to give games about 15 minutes at least so I can get a feel for what they're doing. This demo was 13 minutes long. It being by the creators of Untitled Goose Game had me excited, but ultimately you just kind of run around and slap things and everyone has a funny British accent. I was very un-wowed by the game, and very wowed when the demo ended so abruptly. Oh well, I suppose.

Tiny Glade

Not so much a game as it is a toy, but oh boy is it a fun one. Intuitively whip up little castles with no problem, and then walk around with them in the first person. I was so charmed by this that I called my artist wife in to sit down and take a look at it, and I didn't need to explain anything about it before she had build herself a little castle. You build little castles! What's not to love? I'm hoping there's more to it in the full release, or at the very point that the price point reflects what it is exactly.

Tiny Bookshop

Another one I saw in a cozy direct that I had my eye on that ended up kind of falling flat for me. This game boils down to a shop simulator, which I'm a huge fan of, obviously. But then there's the whole aspect of have percentages of book genres, and how many books you have affecting your likelihood to sell... it just didn't hook me in the way I hoped. The art style, however, was very good, and it's a delight to look at. This might be another one I take a stab at when I'm in the right headspace.

Wild Bastards

I heard Void Bastards was good, but I never actually played it. Wild Bastards seems pretty neat though... you are a couple of Wild West Robots (hell yeah) who are venturing across the galaxy and resurrecting your dead team members with a magic ship. Levels consist of beaming down to a planet and taking out enemies meticulously while not being killed yourself. You can only take down two team members at a time, but you can hotswap between them which is a neat mechanical way of changing weapons. Unfortunately, once I got my third team members, I was summarily shithoused by a bunch of plants and my run was ruined. Still, I had a lot of fun and I will be keeping a close eye on this one. Maybe not a day one buy, but certainly something to pick up.

That's my NextFest, folks. Love it or hate it, I love videogames and I like that demos are coming back in vogue. Til next time.

[listlessnessss]

i don’t always get political w it because i do feel like questions of desire and legitimacy pollute the logistics, i’m not about to beg trutrans (that now is taken to mean ‘no longer pretrans/repressed’, btw) people for things when i need to be a better “cis”ally to them, and i’m only sorting out desire and legitimacy. i understand how politically and personally offputting i can be, as a concept, to actual trans ppl. yet of course those desires are deeply political in nature, but i don’t see how politics can be just this stand-in for desire that alludes to desire when transmasculine desire is a thing that doesn’t yet exist politically because it’s denied/dismissed as something else or actively derided as the purview of [some kind of privilege]. i was a tiktok theyfab in 2020-22 and often saw people’s transmasculine desire dissected apart down to each of its components and exposed for how fucked up their desires are, all the things (fatphobic, racist, a white-woman fragility moment, homophobic, transmisogynistic) but the thing is, i don’t even think that *all* of those critiques are unwarranted, but one is left to wonder… since i assume everyone “in my orbit”(that’s what it’s called, i think, lmao) on here is at least tertiarily involved with the project of creating a coherent if-and-only-if, divergent-not-convergent, transmasculine sense of meaning/narrative where one is severely lacking or entirely absent (think: why is there no ftm whipping girl? and take it as a challenge) without being this logical so-as-follows ‘mirror counterpart’ to transfemininity NOR incredibly butch cis women, because those sets of comparisons are bound in many important ways to be false, to not apply. this is where the TQ complaint of ‘erasure’ is a real thing, even if 14 y/o’s feeling invalidated in the moment don’t exactly articulate its further implications very well. my point is/was when i was deep in tiktok theyfabbery, is a perfect feminist politic a mandatory prerequisite to creating such a narrative? (think about the particular moral mandate along the lines of ‘being a man is about respecting women’: yes, yes absolutely you need to, but without it, does one cease to be a man? or are you now this empty, voided, “masc-not-butch” “nonbinary is just a negation, it’s not a thing” person having your white woman moments, having your cake and eating it too) everyone agrees that the edgy teenage phase of many newer trans people is offputting and uncanny, albeit necessary for growth and development, but i do wonder if coming out the other end of transmasculinity therefore becomes this careful disavowal, deliberately manufactured to be apolitical and uncontroversial, and if political, aligned with feminism the way lesbians are. i also find the tMRA shit, (MRAshit wrapped in a toothpaste flag) to be weird and offputting and not ideal politically and evidence of a total unawareness of how one is perceived. thinking about that tweet that said “it is not up to ftms to fix masculinity, go to the gym lol” and if you want, you should, you can, but an implication is that by virtue of who we are and what we want, we are particularly ill-equipped to be able to simultaneously take it seriously wrt ourselves while also being capable of meaningfully contributing to philosophy, discourse, (culture) politics without leaving ourselves behind in some way. if that’s not the other classic TQ complaint of “infantilization”, then i’m not sure what is. it’s put up or shut up, and if you knew me, you’d find that i shut up in real life, as is ideal while i’m in a proto- state and still politically uncanny and incoherent. while i myself am a gaymaxxer(my cope is that i’m in part like this because i’m gay-male-ideated not because i WNBAM),

i found that i became far more robustly left wing and feminist and all that once i stopped trying to think about myself as a cis woman, once i listened to disk horse on “toxic masculinity” and “male loneliness epidemic” shit, i see some breadtuber spaces as having struggled with creating a similar meaning/story for cis men that isn’t just anti-woman. i also heard there that pre-leftist cis men were afraid of, but had to make peace with, the supposed threat that transfemininity posed to the security of their gender identity and expression, and of those who remain men, some get to realize that they’re queer. I heard quite deep and meaningful comparisons made between cis women’s and trans women’s lives and struggles for meaning. the matrix style gender theory, “fuck gender, be a woman”, was all of our redpill, however hard to swallow. but of nobody’s fault but my own, i was at this time beginning to not internally identify as a woman, and realized that there’s no such thing as a transmasculine redpill. still no story, still no sense of meaning, still I should learn to feel/be the butch or be like the other girls and okay with that, a thing i’m just not and never was. transmasculine desire is still shameful and unspeakable as is the opposite in any other part of life and the political landscape—

i can identify this problem, yes, but i’m not smart enough nor in real life enough nor materially affected enough to be an ideal candidate to begin to create the solution, but i think the boy hypno content is a step in the right direction, for sure, though there may yet be unforeseen social/political consequences.

[fineartsjournal]

213341 Art Studio IIIA ⋆ Week 10 - Puppeteering

I made a sound collage composition for my creative cultures course - Nohoanga - titled Shetland Replica.

Taking inspiration from both style and namesake of Oneohtrix Point Never's 2011 plunderphonics album Replica; reapplying the message of cultural mirroring to a personal length, with me choosing to sample tourism advertisements for various ancestral locations of mine.

I also made more silly Taylor Swift noises.

This one, taken from the second track of TPD (I will gage opinion during critiques before I make more) is shorter, but I'm more proud of it, especially with all the delightful references to gay sex that I was able to twist Taylor into saying.

Featured is a parody album cover I whipped up in a couple minutes, starring a cat I could only assume had attempted listening to her album in one sitting.

Every song file you create must have metadata so that the computer and user alike can know what it is, so I had the joy of labelling these monstrous compositions as 'easy listening.'

I was happy with where I was, so I got to wrapping things up for the presentation. A USB acquired, I loaded up the tracks.

For the unsure, I also made an instructions file on the USB drive.

The next day, I got a plinth for presenting - both to highlight the USB, and to provide a surface for the laptop. An extension cord that I brought in would also (hopefully) provide encouragement.

I was still pretty worried that people would view the USB as is, so I added some extra small (and snarky) instructions for anyone taking a closing instructions.

CRITIQUE TIME, BABY.

I MADE THE BAD DECISION OF HAND WRITING THIS.

The following is a near-1:1 transcription of my critique, with my recorded words in italics.

Right in that corner, right in that wall over there, there it is Very, um, promising..... [I don't like] being dingus, someone else can be the dingus. [Laughter] What's that last word say? Dingus. Dingus. Ah, yep. It's very playful, like when I came around the corner and saw it on the plinth, I laughed. Wait we can plug it in! Who's fine being a dingus? Who's got a hole? [Laughter] First the 'lube' and now this? [Laughter] Um, it says to plug it in... is it plugged, like, an insert on the ground? That's a USB insert, I wouldn't plug that to a USB, so, um, that's interesting to me. Indio would you like to touch....? I'm, uh, just letting people figure it out. Is that thing on the ground like a [plug] is it going to be in slightly, or...? [Inaudible] USB, you put the USB... Well you could even [inaudible] but you could put it anywhere. I'm not cooperating, someone go look for computer, [I feel a bit(?)] shitty. Yeah. I was hoping somebody brought their laptop...[I looked around the room] no laptops today. I can go get it. (Thanks Fahsai) I, um.... If you want me to...? Yep. You're asking a lot. [I got defensive] Quite a bit. To plug something in, y'know... *phew* Well, yeah. [Inaudible] Well just... asking somebody to have their computer with them- Assuming... -yeah, assuming that we would have something, and then assuming that we would be happy to plug something [Inaudible] do you think that sounds good to you? ...I guess so. Yeah, like, if it was in a gallery space, I don't think anyone would come in with a computer to [Inaudible] I suppose we're here, there are computers. If there was, you know, context... I mean it's not the plugging in though, like maybe that's the whole thing, you're just supposed to ask... 'why is there just a USB here?' Like a kind of... social contamination, like, what information are you going to upload... access... [Peeling off the tape] Had to destroy the artwork... Yeah, tear it off. Nice. But that also tells me that you don't want it to be picked up, because it's like, stuck onto the thing... [Multiple people] Yeah. If it was just around the USB... It's so rude... [Inaudible] [USB is plugged in]

A campus photographer happened to be around during my presentation, taking a couple photos of the critique group while my song played.

[Track 1 - Your Wife is Gay plays] [Several pained expressions form around the class.]

[Reading the room, I stop the track one minute early.] I might just pause it, um... It's only about two songs so far, but... How long is it? Four minutes, right? It's like... four minutes long in the file. Again, I think it's very humorous, focusing on words like 'Fortnite', 'gay', 'come'... I really liked that. And like, at first I didn't realise it was a song by Taylor Swift; when I was hearing 'Fortnight', I was just seeing the game, rather than the word 'Fortnight'. Yeah, and I do encourage everybody to go close and see what I did to the songs... To the file? [Inaudible] It says 'Your Wife is Gay'. Pfff! And there's one called 'Sodomy'. I feel like it would be nice if you had your laptop, or something we could plug it in, rather than expect someone to have it on hand. And also your work is like, very [Inaudible] in your Pecha Kucha, you showed a lot of inspiration, like, you were on a really good track with the visuals, as well as the musical engineering behind it, and that would've been nice as well... to see a video, and actually looking at the sound. Is that cat in the bed your own? Uh, no. [Inaudible] Well it's actually taking the piss out of the album cover. [Inaudible] ...there's a word for it you use, like a specific type of musical engineering, right? Yes, plunderphonics. Plunderphonics... like taking bits of different music and putting it together [Inaudible] ...it's like a type of self-generated AI-type of thing, right? Really overstimulating... [Laughter] I got anxiety [Inaudible] Anxiety? From brutalising Taylor Swift? Yeah! For sure. I didn't get that at all, and I have sensory issues, so... The second song is half the length and even worse. Oh no! Maybe after some further talking I can put that on but I also saw some people shaking their heads so I'm not sure about that. [Laughter] I thought that, like, the first one was like.. have you seen Danganronpa before? No. It's an anime about [Inaudible] ...when someone gets executed, there's like this song that plays, I thought that was what [the first 10 seconds] were leading into. I thought kind of, like, the vibes of the genre was like hyperpop, or like, breakcore kind of stuff... I think the reason I didn't get overstimulated was because it reminded me of YouTube Poops- [Laughter] -like that, kind of meme, it's like that certain type of editing on YouTube... yeah, kind of meme culture. I feel so fucking old. [Laughter] I feel like [Inaudible] I don't know if this is harsh to say but... this would probably be better displayed in like, a formative, like a three-week crit, and then to work towards that, towards like, something more visual... I thought this was a three week crit? Technically, yeah. Well yeah, but it's crit week, it's a big week for fine arts students, I feel. But yeah, I would've liked to see this in the formative, and like, the feedback you got from formative to be displayed today. Oh, oh yeah right, sorry I misunderstood.

I'm still very confused as to what this student meant, but my best guess is that they're saying that I didn't take my formative critiques on board.

Yeah I think for me, you know, yeah, so obviously, I do come from a different place because I'm [Inaudible] YouTube Poop is not the vibe... um, so for me because it is audio, I think I would have maybe liked you have the sound in the dark space. Yeah, maybe because of the way it's presented we're missing a lot of it, like it took us a while to get the laptop, and a lot of people were too shy to do that, and we haven't actually heard the whole thing. I don't know if it's the most accessible, but I do like the idea... [Inaudible] [Multiple people] Mmm. I feel like the scrambling around and getting the laptop and stuff, that's not my least-favorite thing about it... it's, you know, part of the making side of it, putting the bits and pieces together to have your final thing; I felt like it wasn't terrible [Inaudible] pretty quickly... Wasn't that kind of irritating? Yeah, for me it was a bit, yeah. [Inaudible] But yeah, it was annoying, but yeah, so the music was supposed to click something like that into your brain anyways, so I feel like that wasn't the most annoying part about it... in the best way... [Laughter] I don't want to be a bitch- No, you're doing so well! SHANNON: I feel like if we're kind of, like, baited into this kind of low-level antagonism it's okay to voice that... [Inaudible] Yeah, I suppose, not that I find the audio kind-of irritating, but it is a very particular way to set the scene for sure. I wonder whether you've kicked the legs out of a part of today's conversation because of that decision... we're talking too much about that, we should be talking about [Inaudible] What's there to [Inaudible]? SHANNON: Maybe none of it, you know, but yeah, maybe there's a kind of parallel between the antagonism of the work and the framework of our participation. In any other setting, I could've easily seen people not engage.. At all. SHANNON: At all. Yeah, that would've been my- SHANNON: Yeah, which would've been fair game. Yeah. SHANNON: I suppose the gap in the work is that you had to kind of nudge us to go and get it. [Inaudible] But then, I already feel like that's kind of divergent [Inaudible, referring to USB on plinth] what's at stake here, surely it's got to be something more interesting than that. I mean, yeah. So if that laptop had been there, same thing, I would've put it in... but do I want to be called a dingus? There's been worse things said than- Well I know, but for me, dingus is fuckwit, so do I want to be told 'pick it up fuckwit'? No fuck you, I'd walk away! Well, maybe. You think you're so clever, I'll walk away. [Laughter] I think it's informative you presented with Em, and that [Inaudible] and more people focused on the visuals in relation to the sound, so I think it's a tricky situation just to present the sound without the visual, and I think the USB is a very interesting approach to that, and I think could be effective in... you wanting people to engage with the music rather than engaging with the music, with visuals. Yeah. For me the part that gets me is that is that, um, there's also an instruction manual attached on there, just an extra layer if anyone wants to whip that up... Sorry, the instruction manual? In the actual file... Pretty compliant audience... [Laughter] Ah, there we are. It's cause Fahsai's so nice. Can I read it out? Yes please.

I might just prematurely stop it there. The recording goes on for another 9 minutes, with the general sentiment continuing along these lines. The particular gut punch with Shannon's critiques was the pretentiousness of the piece, in particular the general cynicism in attitude.

I had taken a particular stance against an artist, and my work asked the audience to share the same - and with such negativity, snarkiness, expressed; people aren't going to want to partake.

This is especially apparent with my hands-off approach; at the critique, I wanted to allow for audience discovery, artificially creating the dead-drop environment in a gallery space. Humor was not shared with 'plug it in, dingus', and likewise if I'd been more involved in guiding each step, it'd appear obnoxious all the same.

If I want to convey plunderphonics - and further - a subsersive approach to music listening, then having unwilling people recreate a desired interaction and then having the whole group listen at once just ain't it, chief.

Some solutions to this dilemma were proposed by the group: Shannon suggested that the whole thing would be more appealing if I just committed to the bit and made the whole album, while quite a few desired the dark space environment for listening, perhaps pared with visuals. I wasn't feeling it.

A particular step forward, proposed by Shannon, stuck with me - to get with the times, and put the thing on a music streaming platform, and have people listen when they damn well pleased.

What I took from this was to move further towards personal listening experience. But how?

[average-guy-reviews]

Violent Night (2022)

"An elite team of mercenaries breaks into a family compound on Christmas Eve, taking everyone hostage inside. However, they aren't prepared for a surprise combatant: Santa Claus is on the grounds, and he's about to show why this Nick is no saint."

What would it look like if Santa was the one that gave up on the spirit of Christmas? That is how the film starts. Santa is in a bar, in Bristol, getting steaming drunk and going off on the state of Christmas. He is angry about the way attitudes of children have changed etc. and about the way the belief in Christmas is dying off. As he flies away on his sleigh he says to himself that this will be his last Christmas. It's definitely an interesting start to a film for the festive season.

David Harbour is very much a different Santa to those we have previously been presented with. Normally they are bright, cheery, full of the joys of the season, and even when they're not they are still very prim and proper and Santaish. Harbour's Santa is an emotionally downtrodden, raggedy looking, man who could easily pass as the kind of mall Santa nobody want to see. He still has his magic, knows who is who, but it seems to be fading. Harbour brings life to this disgruntled mess in a way that makes you feel really sorry for him, all the while still letting you think "Come on, man. You're Santa. Pull your shit together!"

John Leguizamo leads the team of mercernaries breaking in. He is a very stereotypical villain for this kind of film, but that's not a bad thing. Leguizamo's performance is on point and he nails the tropes perfectly. He does add a few little touches to the role that elevate it a litle over the standard, and it's that that makes it like the whipped cream on a hot chocolate, just right. I'll always enjoy a Leguizamo movie....(even Super Mario Bros., to a degree).

The rest of the cast is full of faces you are likely to know, but may find it hard to place. They all give decent performances, and there isn't really anything that I can critique. They were there and they played their roles well. However, the young lady playing Trudy Lightstone, the human foil to Santa, was a fabulous casting choice. Leah Brady is the kid that still believes in Santa, the emotional heart of the film, and yet she is far from the saccharine sweet kids that often fill that role.

This is not your usual festive fare. When a film has lines like "Time for Season's Beatings!", "Ho, ho, holy shit." and "Christmas is going to die tonight!.", as well as a lot of bloody violence, it's not going to be for everyone at this time of year. It is a 15 here in the UK, and i was wondering while watching how much more it would have needed to be an 18. It can't have been far off.

Overall it's a decent film. It gives an interesting new twist to who Santa was before he was Santa, and it still has a very festive feel to it...once you get past the dead people that is. It lives up to its name for sure, and it damn sure will be joining my annual Christmas watch list. It's getting a very ho ho ho 7.5/10. I'd recommend it if you don't have a weak stomach, and I'd recommend it if you do (just hide behind your hands).

[theatregaymer]

A Tiger gets Tickles

Happy Birthday @dokidoki-muffin!

I wanted to write even just a small little something for you to celebrate your amazing artwork and the blessing of your friendship! So here is a little something I whipped up to celebrate you and this great Yuri on Ice piece you did!

Original art: https://dokidoki-muffin.tumblr.com/post/695227399163543552/i-had-a-bit-of-extra-time-today-and-a-decent-idea

Time truly was a fickle thing. It seemed like only yesterday that the World Finals of the Grand Prix occured in Barcelona, featuring highlights of both Yuri Plisetsky and Yuuri Katsuki shattering record times set by their inspiration and coach Victor Nikiforov. Now just over a year later, Yuuri had moved to Russia to live with Victor, the two of them pursuing not only competitive ice skating together but also a relationship as two people in love.

For the much younger Yuri however, their lovey dovey attitude around one another was pracitcally sickening. Of course this did not stop the blond from coming over to their shared place in Saint Petersburg, eating their food, sleeping in their guest room and insisting on training together when possible. He wouldn't say it out loud, but the two of them somehow became something of rolemodels for him, like a pair of gay uncles or something like that...well just not the creepy kind you hear about online.

Of course this meant they also tended to tease him as well, especially after he'd gotten much closer to a friend and fellow skating superstar Otabek Altin. Sure the two younger boys had gotten closer after reconnecting during last years finals but it wasn't anything dumb and sappy like those two! Of course, everyone had questions after a certain performance inspired by the Kazahk skater's performance in a rock club.

This of course happened to include his friends, whom he was staying with for an entire weekend whilst working on some new material. Currently dressed in only a pair of thermal exercise pants, a tank top and a comfortable hoodie, Yuri laid out on their sectional while watching a video of his performance of Welcome to the Madness with Otabek. Of course he wasn't actually watching for him of course, as much as he enjoyed a self critique session like any other athlete, he was watching the part specifically when Otabek joined him, brief as it was, to remove his gloves. He remembered that night, the two of them in the dressing room sharing their first kiss, it made him feel so giddy thinking about it that he rewound his performance just to watch the way Otabek looked at him.

"Ooooh Yurio's watching Otabek again hmm?" That sickeningly playful tone could only belong to one man. "As if...and don't call me that!" Yuri responded in a gruff tone, his cheeks however going an unmistakable shade of pink as he hit play once more, trying not to let his gaze linger on any one part for too long. "I'm only self reflecting." Meanwhile a certain piglet walked into the room, hounded by that fluffball of a dog they loved so much. He was carrying a tray with some hot cocoa, but why had he made three?

Victor answered that question by holding up a finger. "You know Otabek is going to be doing an interview this afternoon. We figured you might want to watch." Oh damn....that was right. Of course Yuri knew about it, but he'd always planned on just watching it in private as his grandfather had promised to record it for him. But to watch it live with these two!? It would be so embarrassing if Otabek gave some kind of secret signal or smirk at the camera, knowing the blond would be watching. "Wha...I don't want to watch that!" This was of course when Yuuri interjected. "Oh come on now, we all want to watch his interview right?" Victor sat down on the blond's left, Yuri setting the hot chocolates down on the coffee table before taking a place on his right.

Now his blush had moved up into his ears, both men easily telling how embarrassed he was, his tough facade fading quickly as soon as he watched the screen switch over from the recording to a pre segment to the very interviews they were holding. victor was the perpetrator, smiling directly at Yur with that knowing grin on his face. "Ah n-no! We can't!" He went into full panic mode, leaning over in desperation to lock two hands on the remote as Victor tried to hold it away from him. "Ah ah aaah Yurio, sharing is caring! Besiiides what are you so afraid of? Perhaps you two have your own language hmmm? Expecting a little embarrassing message from Otabek?" One of Victor's favorite activities raised it's ugly head, teasing the youngest of the trio as he continued holding onto the remote, albeit not too hard as he knew as long as he only used one hand, the younger boy would cling to it with both in an effort to win, leaving his torso open to yet another fun little game the oldest liked to play.

"Tickle tickle Yuriooo, you can keep the remote or keep your smile inside but we both know what you'll choooose." As if he wasn't already panicking enough, the sudden desire to tuck in his arms was blocked out by the need to keep both hands on the controller. Suddenly, the young Russian felt it, that dexterous hand beginning to dig in and wriggle around his ribcage, the hoodie designed to protect from the cold but not the tickle monster. "GEhehe nah nohoho you beahastaha gehe...pfftheEHehah gehet off meehehhe!" As they tousled about, Yuuri made sure to scoot the tray of drinks a bit further away as he knew what was happening. Of course he found it adorable as well, seeing the young tiger in love like that. He too had grown quite fond of Yuri, over the time they'd started as rivals and become very good friends despite the difference in age, and the younger had tought him a lot of things about skating, and of course learned a fair bit from him as well in return.

"I have to say I think majority might rule on this one Yurio, I think we both would like to watch Otabek be interviewed." The Japanese skater was of course just hamming it up a little to go with the flow. Both he and Victor had met and gotten along well with the skater from Kazakhstan, and they had definitely see his cool and collected demeanor tend to shift when around Yuri was around. "BAhaha aha nah nohoh we dohohn'theha screhewha that hah AH NAH no wahahitha nahaha dohohon't touch me you dahamn katsuhuhudohohnAHAhahAHAHA!" Smiling innocently, Yuri had decided that he didn't want to be left out of this adorable little bonding moment, having scooped up one of Yuri's bare ankles before bringing his own lithe fingers to bear on his soft size eight sole.

With both men physically being superior and his own efforts focused on holding onto that remote for dear life, poor Yurio could do little but squirm about and laugh. "BWAHAHa AHa EEHEhe naha nohoh lehet gohoho!" Victor only clicked his tongue at the command, "Tsk tsk I don't think so Yurio, He's going to be on soon after all, why not just watch with us with some nice hot cocoa?" Yurio shook his head in defiance, prompting that tickling hand to swoop up into his armpit and earning a squeal in response. "NYAAAHAHa AHAha ah nohoho stahahap tickle meeheEHe AHAHA NO NOHH youhuhu pihihiggyhyhy get oohohoff!" Yuri weakly tried kicking his legs, only to have his free one trapped  by Katsuki's arm, letting him focus fully on the vulnerable one in his grasp. "Hmm piggy, there's an idea. Hmhm thiiis little piggy went to maaarkeeet...." The childish rhyme beginning was the briefest of warnings for the poor blond, who now felt those fingers invading his toes, curling the digits sa much as he could while making a much more pig-like squeal.

These tickles lasted several minutes it seemed, the best responses occuring when Yuuri would flutter his fingers against Yurio's arch, of Victor chose to bury his fingers in between his ribs. finally he couldn't take it any longer, releasing his hold on the remote in favor of protecting his own self, curling into a giggly ball and rolling onto the carpeted floor as Makachin bounded over to sniff at him and perhaps get some cuddles of his own. Thank god the two older skaters had mercy enough not to follow him to the floor for further embarrassment, the blond unable to really greet the dog with open arms as he hastily rubbed at his sides and ribs, his feet sliding back and forth on the carpeting to rid himself of those nasty tingling sensations the tickling had caused.

"Aww we missed it, someone was laughing so loudly we didn't notice Otabek was talking." Victor taunted, making the blond look up to indeed see his crush shaking the interviewer's hand and being thanked for his time. A sigh and a sense of relief flooded over him, his body trembling even now as he came down from the unexpected high, only to hear Yuri's voice chime in once more. "Well it's a good thing we were recording it, let's make sure to watch it together."

Yuri's mind blanked for a moment as the realization hit him, that he'd been tickled for nothing. ".....eh?"

[mochegato]

The Night of the Consequences

Continuation of Well, Well, Well, If It Isn’t the Consequences of My Actions

“Ladybug!”

Ladybug’s eyes widened, recognizing the voice booming through the Watchtower halls without even having to turn around.  She eyed Chloe nervously.  Why did these things keep happening around the nosy blondes in her life?  She turned around with an overly wide smile.  “Oh… hi… um… M.… Wing,” she stuttered out.  

Son of a bitch!  She really should have prepared for this.  She knew it was coming.  Granted, she didn’t know it was coming today, but it had to be coming soon, they couldn’t afford to let just anyone go around knowing their identities.  If the family was really worried, they couldn’t afford to wait to talk to her about… well… her.  

Bee side eyed her with an incredulous stare.  “What the actual fu…” she started quietly.

“Is there something we can help you with?” Ladybug asked loudly, cutting off whatever rant Chloe was going to go on.

“Um well, first off,” he gave her an overly wide, supposedly charming grin, “you can call me Nightwing.  M. Wing is my… father.”  He cringed as he the last word came out.

Bee raised an eyebrow.  “I thought your father was M. Bat.”

Nightwing puckered his lips.  “Yeah… that’s… true.”  He shuffled awkwardly.

“If you’re going to use that line, you’re supposed to say we can call you Night, which I’m not going to do, by the way,” Bee said flippantly and starting to study where her nails would be if she didn’t have gloves on.  “Otherwise it really doesn’t work.”

“Bee!” Ladybug lightly chastised.  She turned to Night… Wing… Nightwing!  She wasn’t calling him Night either.  “Sorry about her.  I’d say she’s just tired, but that would be a lie.”  She ignored Bee’s scoff and continued.  “You said ‘first’, so I assume there’s a second?” she prompted.

“Right, right,” he nodded, finally seeming to settle a bit, his face becoming a bit more determined and the ‘charming’ smile returning.  “I wanted to ask you about someone.  She gave your name as a reference and I just wanted to see if it was someone we could trust.”

Bee leaned over to Ladybug’s ear.  “Why does he keep smiling like that?” she asked in a normal volume.  She shivered dramatically.  “Creepy.”

Ladybug pursed her lips to stop the noise that wanted to escape, some kind of a combination of frustrated whimper and raucous laugh.  “Okay,” Ladybug smiled tightly, focusing entirely on Nightwing. “Who was it?”

“Yeah, a name would be useful here, Smile Boy” Bee added in.  “Or we could just give our opinion on everyone we know, along with a fashion critique.  We can start with your costume history.”

“Bee, didn’t you have something else to do?  Right now?” Ladybug’s voice was sharper than an obsidian edge.  This was her boyfriend’s… future boyfriend’s?... love interest’s?  Yes, love interest’s brother.  She did not need to piss him off while he was asking her as a ‘reliable source’ about her.

“Nope,” Bee smirked back.

Ladybug groaned and turned to Nightwing.  She nodded off to the side.  “Should we…”

Nightwing nodded and followed her over.  “Ugh, whatever.  I didn’t want to hear anyway,” Bee grumbled and walked to get coffee.

“So, the woman I’m asking about is Marinette Dupain-Cheng.  You may have come across her in Paris?” Nightwing prompted.

Ladybug nodded.  “I have yeah. She’s actually…”  She bit her lip.  She really should have planned this better.  How much should she tell him?  Clearly she wasn’t going to say it was her, but maybe she could say she was a part time hero?  Or maybe she could just say they trusted her.  The point was whether she could be trusted with their identities so maybe exposing her identity, one of them anyway, wasn’t the best idea.  Maybe just that she knew their identities and had never told anyone?  That should work, right?  She just had to…

“It’s just,” Nightwing spoke up misinterpreting her silence, “my brother has kind of fallen for her.”  He watched her face carefully when he said it to see if there was any indication of what she thought of the idea.

Ladybug’s eyes bugged out.  That was not the approach she had been expecting.  She thought he’d focus more on the identity aspect more than the personal aspect.  Not to mention ‘fallen’?  That was… they’d only just met.  She knew he liked her but fallen was pretty strong.  Did Jason really feel that way toward her or was Dick… Nightwing just exaggerating?  And she didn’t even think Jason had told him they were seeing each other, let alone how he felt about her!  She looked up and met his expectant eyes.  Oh right, he was waiting on her to respond.  But how did she respond to that?  “Oh?”  Very eloquent.  Her eloquence was clearly not improving around the bats.

His face scrunched as he studied her reaction.  It was definitely odd.  “Yeah. It’s kind of bizarre really.  Not to say anything bad about Marinette,” he rushed to assure her.  “I don’t know her well enough to judge her, obviously.  That’s why I’m here asking you about her.  But he’s really taken with her really quickly.  I’ve never seen him like this.”  He suddenly stopped and his eyes blew wide.  “Oh God!  Don’t tell her that.  Jason’ll kill me if he finds out.”

“Oh… um…” she looked away suddenly trying to hide her sudden blush and searched for a way to answer.

“Oh my god, y… Dupain-Cheng bagged another hero?” Bee exclaimed slapping Ladybug on the shoulder with her elbow and handing her one of the cups in her hands.

“Bee!” Ladybug exclaimed.  “I thought you didn’t care!  What are you doing here?”

“This is the thanks I get after bringing you tea?” she scoffed in pretend offence.

Ladybug rolled her eyes and let out a long suffering sigh.  “This is just water.”  She brought the cup to her lips.  “Not even hot water!  You brought me a cup of tepid water.”

“Oh my God, can’t you just be grateful I thought about bringing you tea?” Bee exclaimed, exasperation clear in her tone.

Ladybug gave her a deadpan expression.  “Did you though?”

“No, not really,” she shrugged.  “Let’s get back to Dupain-Cheng somehow managing to entice yet another hero though,” she continued, malicious glee sparkling in her eyes.

Ladybug’s mouth dropped in offense.  “She does not date a lot of heroes,” she rushed to assure Nightwing. “Only the one, really…”  She paused and looked at who she was talking to and her eyes widened in realization.  “… not that there’s anything wrong with dating a lot of superheroes… if that’s… um… what you want to do,” she finished weakly.

Bee snickered at the flustered cover-up.  “Yeah, she’s not like some heroes that date everyone they shake hands with.”

Nightwing gave an offended scoff.  “I have not dated that many people… or heroes.”

Bee scoffed.  “Maybe not that are officially sanctioned by the JL.”

“We didn’t say that you did,” Ladybug promised, “did we Bee?” she hissed at Bee through gritted teeth.  “And even if you had, there’s nothing wrong with that.  Right, Bee?  Because there’s nothing wrong with dating around.  Is there?”

“No,” Bee groused.  She crossed her arms over her chest and pouted for a moment before the pout became a vicious grin.  “Yeah, sure, we can stop talking about his dating history.  So, anyway, back to Dupain-Cheng…”

“Oh fu… I can’t believe I walked right into that,” Ladybug grumbled into her hands.

“It may be just the one she actually dated.  The rest just have wet dreams about her.”  She smirked at her.

“Bee!” Ladybug exclaimed her cheeks rapidly turning a dark scarlet.

“Relax, I know you and Dupain-Cheng have a… unique relationship, but that doesn’t change facts.  And pretending like she isn’t getting lusty looks from other people doesn’t change it either.”  Bee rolled her eyes and took a sip of her coffee.  The cup wasn’t nearly big enough to hide her widening smirk.  “You’re just going to have to suck it up.”

Nightwing perked up at that comment.  Well, that was an interesting tidbit.  “So you must know Marinette very well considering you know her dating history so well.”

Ladybug nodded while still glaring at Bee.  “Yes.  You could say that.  We know each other rather well.”

“Extremely well,” Bee agreed, her grin getting even sharper.  “I’ve known her since we were children but Ladybug still knows her much more intimately than I do.  Why don’t you tell him about her?”

“And I would trust her,” Ladybug continued over Bee.  “I have trusted her with a lot, both in and out of the suit.”

Bee cackled at the answer “Yeah LB do tell.  Go on about her amazing attributes.  Tell us all about her.”

“Bee,” Ladybug whined, her cheeks heating up.  Nightwing observed the interaction with a raised eyebrow.

“Come on, he’s going to think you don’t like Dupain-Cheng,” Bee teased.

“What! No!”  Ladybug straightened quickly, her eyes going wide.  “I do!  I like Dup… Marinette,” she glared quickly at Bee before she whipped back to face Nightwing with wide eyes.  “She’s great! She’s ama… She’s…” she faltered.  This was so awkward.  If she and Jason ended up getting serious, Nightwing was eventually going to know who she was and remember what she said here and if she overplayed it, he’d think she was pompous and hate her.  Then his whole family would hate her and Jason would break up with her because his family would convince him she was a terrible influence.

But! But if she wasn’t complimentary enough he’d think she didn’t like… herself and that she wasn’t trustworthy. Then he would convince Jason that it was a mistake to be with her and he’d break up with her because he’d trust his family’s word over hers and think she wasn’t a good person and deserved to be miserable.  She looked back up at Nightwing with a sigh.  “She’s a good person.  She deserves to be happy.”

Nightwing stared into her eyes for a few moments as if trying to read a part of her soul.  Finally, his eyes softened to a more sympathetic glint.  “I was worried about her knowing our identities but I’m mostly worried about him.  He’s been through a lot and he can be pretty hot and cold because of it and I just…”

Ladybug’s eyes softened too.  She looked down for a moment trying to figure out how to word her response.  “She’s… Marinette’s pretty understanding.  She’s had to deal with that before and it didn’t work then but… I don’t think that was on her…”  She pursed her lips and looked down while the memories washed over her. When she looked back up there was a bittersweet look in her eyes.  “She fights for the people she loves.  She puts effort in.  If you’re asking if I would trust her with an identity, I have before and she’s never let me down.  If you’re asking me if I would trust her with your brother’s heart, I would.  Whether it works out with him or not, she’ll still be there for him.  She’ll do everything in her power to protect it.  If you trust me, you can trust her.”

Nightwing reached out and squeezed her shoulder.  “Thank you.  This has been very helpful.  I’m sorry if I brought up any bad memories.”

Ladybug shook her head.  “No, it’s fine.  I hope I made you feel less worried about her.”

Nightwing nodded.  “You did. Thanks again.”

“You’re welcome,” Bee interjected loudly.  “Even though you didn’t ask me my opinion.”

“Sorry.  I hadn’t been given your name as a reference,” Nightwing said with only the tiniest touch of condescension.  

“I grew up with her,” Bee scoffed.  “And even though you didn’t ask, I’ll tell you my opinion anyway.”

“Bee…” Ladybug started, but her voice was tired.

“I don’t know who your brother is, but whoever he is…”  Ladybug sighed deeply and dropped her head.  “…he isn’t good enough for her.”  Ladybug’s head snapped up and her jaw dropped.

“Are you… are you admitting you like m… Marinette?”  Ladybug gaped.

“Relax, I’m not like hitting on her or anything.  I’m just...  Shut up.” She crossed her arms over her chest and looked away with a pout.  After a few seconds she looked back at Ladybug from the corner of her eye and rolled her eyes.  “Close your mouth, LB.  There probably aren’t flies here to fly in, but Beast Boy could always be transformed as a fly for whatever ridiculous reason and if you swallow him we can’t go on our date.”  

“You’re dating Beast Boy?  When did that happen?” Ladybug exclaimed.

Bee grabbed Ladybug’s arm and tugged her back in the direction they had been heading originally.  “I was trying to tell you before we were so rudely interrupted.”

Nightwing watched them walk away with a smile and a small wave.  That was a lot to take in, but at least now he knew she was trustworthy.

<><><><><> 

Marinette had just gotten home and immediately collapsed into her bed after an extremely long and wearing day when he heard an incessant pounding at the door that wouldn't stop.  “What the hell,” she groaned.  She pushed herself off the bed with a great deal of effort and shuffled to the front door. “Somebody better be about to die,” she grumbled to herself, “or someone’s going to be.”  She looked through the peep hole to see a frantic looking Jason. 

She whipped open the door for him.  “Jason! Are you okay?”  She reached to check him over to assure herself he was okay.

Jason stared at her for just a second.  “Dick just… He said… You slept with Ladybug!  She’s the one you dated?” he yelled.

Marinette blinked at him a few times trying to take in what he just said.  “What!?”

Continued in Truth so Cold

Tags:

@jasonette-july-event @maribatserver @ashbrea381writings

[bakingandbooks3]

A Court of Song and Serpents

A bit short but the begging of a project I'm SO excited for- hope you love this as much as I do.

Summary: What a time to be alive as Nesta Archeron, going backward to move forward and finding that the places she once called home are now empty tombs.

Nesta

Nesta held her breath for a moment, a pause, and stilled entirely. The Court of Nightmares. She knew the verdict would be severe, but never would she have expected exile to a world of terror. The horrors of that place, of how it was once the main residence of the High Lord- till Rhysand.

Rhysand, the man who boasted of lands bountiful with choice and reason, now sat across from her donning unmasked hatred. A look he kept shielded from his mate, reserved just for Nesta. The kind that rips one apart from the inside out, would carve out the belly of a beast, burn a witch on a wooden pyre.

Nesta felt nothing, she always did. It wasn’t hard to see what he was thinking of her, how his beautiful wife’s wretched sister was little more than a gambling thief who slept her way through his glorious city. Now, fingers smeared that blank canvas so pure of her darkest shades.

Eyes flicking back, she studied that same sister. The Cursebreaker, the Savior.

How small and insignificant she became next to the glimmering shining thing Feyre was. The lands spoke of her beauty and kind touch, and how she sacrificed everything to save a world of people, and Fae that she was raised to despise.

Nesta wished it’d be known that her touch wasn’t always kind.

She built her bricks firm enough that her house of grace never shattered; Held firm, it was all she had left in her. Too many eyes on her filled with grief, excitement, retribution-Nesta was keenly aware of how this Court of Dreams felt of her.

“This is an exile.”

Rhysand's smirk peaked so slightly, his mate tensing.

“No, no. This is an intervention, a chance for you to find yourself away from bad influences and habits. You can’t keep living like this, and I refuse to let it continue happening and I take the fall for it. Your decisions are impractical and immoral. You are sober much less than you are drunk and-”

“If you’re going to condemn me, do it. But don’t sit here and act as if this is out of kindness.” Nesta snarled. She hated the barbed words, but it’s what she felt. “Who are you to question my morality?”

“I think I can speak for my wife when I say that your presence here is….” Rhysand growled but pulled back, like he forgot Feyre was right there, too.

Nesta wished he would’ve let go, so maybe that facade Rhys reserved for Feyre was broken. No, that’s cruel. As much as she hated this and him, he was making her sister happy.

Something Nesta could never do.

“I do not give a shit what my presence is doing. The decision has already been made, so stop scolding me like a child and make good on your word, Rhysand.” Bile rose in her throat, the words feeling nothing but slimy and disgusting. Foreign, yet habitual all the same. Sometimes, she forgets there once was a woman called Nesta who was so much more than the viper living in her now.

Sometimes she remembers that she can’t ever be her again.

Home was nowhere for her, not in a person, not in a place, certainly not in this bombastic group of “heroes”. Nesta didn’t need a hero, she just needed someone to care. But Nesta knew better, no one would. She was taught to be unlovable, just a woman to be sold off and married- to climb her mothers' ever-growing social ladder.

But Nesta on her own was never enough, even with her mother six feet under and rotted away there were unsung expectations unmet. She was a catastrophic failure and a dark smear on a family name that never truly held weight to her.

Nesta looked up, felt everything all at once again, could only see one man pacing a worn-through tether between them. He wasn’t going to stop this, but she could see it, how it looked like he wanted to jump out of his own flesh, the veins of his arm prominent and knuckles normally so brown a new fresh fallen snow.

There was no prince to save Nesta, much less any will to save herself. So when Mor took the pleasure of bringing her to a living Hell, Nesta did not fight.

She was tired of fighting, after all, she fought an inescapable fate for the first twenty years of her life…

Flowers always made Nesta sneeze, but Elain lit like lights during winter whenever she could thread them through her hair. They all symbolized something, Laine would say. There are ones for good days, and hard storms, for sunshine and stars.

Nesta was always adorned in flowers that paralleled the estate. Astute, cold, tired, where she was warm, comforting, and smelled like cookies- ones that Celia normally baked for the sisters. She never asked Laine why she picked the ones for her that she did, her reasons would stay silent for now.

Spring was a high time of activity in the Archeron estate. There was always a flurry of activity, from preparing their mothers' obscene balls, to guests at every corner in every room. The halls were sprinkled in candles and on walls hung frames nearly kissing it was packed so tight.

They were in the gardens. It was an Elain day, as the girls would call it, and no matter how boring or mundane her wishes were they’d be fulfilled. Nesta was propped on the floor in front of Laine, who was bunching handfuls to weave in tangled auburn coils that gathered on Nesta’s head- as a bird's nest would.

Eventually, Nesta would have to learn braids or risk knotting the curls entirely.

The eldest basked in the silence she created from mentally muting her middle sister, and spared a glance at Feyre. What she saw was not surprising, but required far more willpower than she expected to not burst into laughter and risk the flowery rat's nest on her scalp.

Feyre appeared to be so bored out of her mind she was eating discarded flowers of Elains. Actually, ingesting them, as if she was a critique. When Elain wasn’t looking at Feyre, she’d grab another couple and study them- analyzing her next experiment. Glaring at the blues and yellows as if she was speaking to them, “Which one of you will make me puke the fastest so I can run away?”

In time, Feyre looked up from her taste tests to see Nesta grinning at her so violently you’d think Feyre hung the moon.

And Feyre beamed back, crossing a pinkie across her chest and pointing it back to Nesta. Then she viciously spit out the grass she’d just finished chewing, crying directly at Laine, “This MUST stop at once, my stomach hurts far too much to continue on here.”

Elain, in a garden so quiet, simply ignored her sister's poor attempts at escape. Making Nesta work even harder to stifle the shaking of her shoulders, covering her mouth and nose before she started wheezing. Elain would hardly hurt a fly but sent Nesta a glare that could’ve easily killed a man.

Nesta cleared her throat, “I do believe there are more of the blue flowers down that hill near the pond. Would you mind getting some more for Laine?”

Feyre was already on her feet, mouthing her thanks as Elain turned her back to get the next bunch of flowers, “Why of course I will!” And with a very bad curtsey, Feyre threw off her shoes and was rolling down the hill, spinning wildly, her laughter sure to be heard in meadows far beyond theirs.

You would find the Archeron sisters all together, or never in the same place.

Laine was the easiest to find, by the waters or pond on the east side, in gardens surrounded with bugs and willows calling to the young girl. She could hardly read but if the text included any mention of colors and blooms, suddenly she was a scholar. Elain was not simple or dull, but rather a passive spirit, like a summer wind- brief, fleeting, but teeming with love and hope.

Feyre, as their mother said, was a reckless wild child. Far too young to care, far too small to be whipped into shape. If you were sent to find her and your life depended on it, may the Mother bless you. Feyre liked the kitchen, because of the immaculate food and maids who would shove any sweet down the littlest Archerons throat. But, also for the immeasurable amount of sharp items to be found in there. If it was pointy and could stab a wall or scare their ice-cold mother, Feyre would be running the halls with it in hand or making targets of her fathers old trade route maps.

Then there was Nesta, the firstborn. Molded to be another woman that she somehow couldn’t fit, as if her feet were too big or hair too long, Nesta was outgrowing the standards forged into her being. You would see her as a ghost, floating in and out of rooms, comfortable in silence and slumber, but never escaping people. She loved the maids and could recite all of their names like clockwork, and the workers loved her in turn. Always stuck in new worlds between pages or willingly dragged by the two youngers, Nesta teemed with liberation. She was often alone, but never lonely, and found new loves in the library or in the fields beyond marble confines.

Adela was constantly dissatisfied with her eldest's progress inside these walls, as if at eight she should’ve already been engaged to a prince. Granted, Adela knew better. Nesta would never truly find another kingdom to buy into when she already had a crown waiting for her elsewhere. She was known as fair and beautiful beyond her years, would age like fine wine, and become so much greater than Adela ever was. What Nesta saw as fit would normally come to be, an instinct Adela was unprepared she would inherit. Nothing left her more confused than this daughter only by blood, who was hated by both her parents for reasons far from the same, and how at less than ten years had an entire mansion wrapped around her fingers.

But Adela would wait, and simply leave them be for now. When viper's strike, they kill. And even though the Matron of the house wanted her little queen gone, she had other ways to see this through.

Anyways, children's blood on her hands would stain her diamonds.

---

Cassian

Cassian was violently fucking ill. Watching whatever the fuck that was did not help in the slightest. The second she was gone, so was he.

The General and High Lord were not on speaking terms, his presence was an obligation and not a request. When Rhys first displayed his plans, Cassian just about murdered him. Had his brother on the table in a chokehold that the Shadowsinger had to come and release Rhys from. The way his so-called family planned her exile was… horrific.

Cassian was full of light and humor, but not dull the way his family made him out to be. He could see this for what it was, punishing an already broken female for not meeting every damn need of a fully grown woman that was no longer her responsibility. Cass knew better than to downplay the sacrifices Feyre made, but he was also well aware that Nesta's habits were hardly a financial problem and more of a reputation scandal.

That’s what the High Lord did best, when his Court was breaking at the bonds, the mess would “disappear”. Just like the Illyrians hidden in the mountains, the displaced families of Spring, the homeless warriors of Night.

Cassian loved his brother, but more often than not he wondered when Fate would come to bite them in the asses for Rhys’ neglect.

Now, here he was, in his mothers' cabin, wings dragging behind him wiping tears long since shed over a woman who was thrown to the wolves and torn into so many scraps he wasn’t sure how he could put her together again.

He missed his Nesta, the one who threw glares and begged for her people, not this one who hardly spoke and caved into herself enough that she couldn’t see where she was heading.

Cassian fingered for his mug in the wooden cabinets and hit his mark, soon placing water to heat over a small fire over the counter.

He was not okay, not okay at all.

When you look for something in the dark for too long, you eventually find what you need but not always in the way you expect. Cassian coped the same as Nesta Archeron in his first years post-war. It was suffocating trying to be the happy one while dying inside. He watched men he looked up to fall and a lover he admired take her last breath- too much in far too little time. Cassian was not an idiot, he was simply perplexed. Why was he allowed to grieve in unacceptable manners, but Nesta was a sinner in holy clothing?

Bright walls and unlit rooms in the house were silent, only the winds of the mountains singing outside. The newly dusted snow wrapped the dirt in a delicate kiss- a forbidden touch. It was the peak of winter, just after Feyre’s birthday and another insufferable party.

One that Nesta wasn’t invited to.

Cassian wished he wasn’t invited either.

The cup in his hands was dwarfed in comparison to the bulky Illyrian holding it, but at least it was warm. At least it wasn’t empty.

Because if there was one thing he knew, it could always be worse.

Cassian knew that if things were a little different, he’d be the one sitting in a prison of darkness and Hell because of mistakes made as a child. He’d be exiled by family, cast away by the only living remains of a life once lived.

Nesta didn’t know but long before this he had called it even, their sins atoned for in hurting each other equally.

She was the only one in the world who could tell which smiles he was faking.

To anyone on the outside, one kiss was merely that. How curious it was, the iceberg went far deeper.

So when the mug crashed against the wall, and in its wake resembled his inner turmoil, Cassian took to the skies and found himself at the door of a place far too familiar.

.

.

.

AHHHHHHHH OMG OKAY hope you guys enjoyed this:) if you want to be added to the tag list let me know!

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[we-love-imagines]

hi i don’t know if you’re taking requests right now, but based on your recent post about rohan and his stand and jotaro’s dating hcs, is there anyway that we could see a dating headcanons with rohan? please and thank you!

Of course my dear! Head Cannons are way faster to write than one-shots so I tried to get this one out quick for you! :)

Rohan Dating Hcs

~Rohan is certainly the type to scoff at his own feelings and set them aside, so he really has to like you to ask you out. He doesn’t fall fast either, preferring to date people he’s known for a while and letting his feelings grow over time. However, when he does finally acknowledge his feelings for you, he’ll embrace them in stride. He’ll be trying to impress you and show off his best self at every opportunity. As you two get closer and become an official couple, he’ll loosen up a bit, but your first few dates are very expensive and flashy.

~You become his sole confidant. If you thought Rohan was mean, his private thoughts are a whole lot meaner; after a long day out on the town, he’ll return to you with loads of gossip and sassy comments about his friends. Especially Josuke. He really feels like he can be his true self around you, and can rant and rave about whatever is on his mind with little judgement. You put him at ease.

~If you’re in a relationship with Rohan, you definitely influence his art in one way or another. While he’d enjoy it if you modeled for him- Hell, he’d probably use your likeness for a Pink Dark Boy character if you were okay with it- he’d also respect it if you didn’t want to. However, he’ll sketch you regardless. It may be that you’re always so close, or how the warm feelings he gets from you inspires him, but he can’t help but draw out your face from time to time. He loves seeing how flustered you get when he shows you the finished product. Of course, these would never be published without your permission, but part of him secretly wishes to. It’s some of his best work!

~If you’re an artist, I pray for you. He loves your art, of course, but he’s not one to hold back constructive criticism. While he’ll try to be nice about it, he can come off rather blunt and sound harsh. He’s also a bit of a backseat artist; if he sees you sketching, he’ll watch over your shoulder and critique as you go. It can get rather annoying at times, but at least his advice comes from a genuine desire to see you improve rather than malice. 

~Strangely, he’ll want to move pretty fast with you. With his extremely busy schedule, part of him knows the only real way for him to spend any substantial time with you is if you move in. So, if you’re up for it, expect to be moving your stuff into his house pretty early on in the relationship. To both your surprise and his, he really enjoys cute little domestic things: getting matching mugs, making dinner together, movie-night cuddles on the couch. Though, his undisputed favorite moment of domestic bliss is waking up next to you every morning, kissing your forehead while you sleep before he starts his day.

~He claims to not be one for lovey-dovey stuff like pet names or excessive kisses, but you can certainly convince him otherwise. While he is strictly against PDA, in private he can be very sweet. While he’ll usually call you by your name, you can squeeze out a “Dear” or “Darling” if he’s feeling especially affectionate. Rarely will he initiate affection unprompted, but on a good day, he’ll hug you from behind as you cook something and place chaste kisses to the side of your face. If you catch him on a very good day, he’ll shower you with all the love he can muster. 

~Despite that last point, he eats up your praise and affection like he’s a starved man. You can never do anything just once- if you kiss him while leaving for work, he’ll demand another. If you give him a hug before turning over in bed, he’ll insist you two cuddle. Don’t even get me started on compliments! Any off-handed praise you give him results in a, “Really? You mean that?” egging you on for more. Of course, he’ll act like he’s somewhat unfazed by your kind words, but it always makes his cheeks go pink and his heart beat a little bit faster.

~While he loves your praise, Rohan tends to hold back a little when it comes to verbal affection. He tends to show his love through quiet actions. But, when he’s in the mood to tell you how much he loves you, Rohan pulls out all the stops. Seeing as he’s a mangaka, he is very good with words, and knows just what to say to make your heart melt. 

~Somewhat bad at comforting you when you’re down. He knows you well enough to tell when you’ve had a rough day, but part of him is scared to approach you. He knows he can come off as rude sometimes and he doesn’t want to make it worse. So, he’ll silently make you a warm cup of tea, have something sweet waiting for you in your room- and retreat into his studio. Of course, if you’re extremely upset and crying your eyes out he’ll be there to cuddle you and cheer you up. But on just kinda-crappy days? Yeah, he’s doing the minimum.

~Rohan vows to never use Heaven’s Door on you, unless you ask him to or it’s an emergency. He’s ignored people’s boundaries in the past by using it, and he knows how pushing said boundary might ruin his relationship. While sometimes his anxiety tempts him to take a peek- to check if you’re thinking of leaving him or if you haven’t been loyal- he always stops himself. He doesn’t want to lose you, and that level of privacy invasion is too much for healthy relationship. Though his nerves may flare at times, he trusts you.

~Speaking of nerves, Rohan is always a little afraid his partner would cheat on him. He’s an extremely busy man, and sometimes it feels like he never leaves his studio. It’s easy to feel a little neglected from time to time. So, he fears that you leave when you know he’ll be working for hours, sneaking off to meet with someone else. While you assure him that this isn’t the case, he still gets jealous from time to time when he sees you being a little too nice to others.

~While he can be a tad prickly, Rohan is whipped for you, and he wouldn’t have it any other way!

[nejiraez]

relationship hcs | shinsou hitoshi

my lowest mark this semester so far is a B, it’s time to turn tf up...

pairing: shinsou hitoshi x reader

genre: fluff

© all rights reserved to this blog. reposting is NOT allowed on any platforms along with modifying/translating and straight up plagiarism. - reblog are welcomed

Shinsou tends to have the automatic mindset that people are wary of him or don’t like him due to the results of his quirk.

So if his future S/O or crush happens to like him, they would have to make the first move and approach him first to let it be known.

Otherwise, you’d just have to settle for admiring each other from afar for the time being.

Once you both start dating though, you start to notice newfound tidbits about your boyfriend.

Starters being that he is hygienic as HELL. Shisnou smells fucking amazing. 

Anytime that you borrow one of his hoodies/oversized jackets or you’re enveloped in his embrace and you catch a whiff of scent? You swear you fall in love with him a little bit more because no fucking way can somebody smell that fresh.

“What was that for?” Shinsou would ask, sitting up from his spot on your bed seconds after you nosed your way against the curve of his neck to sniff him.

“I’m sorry! It’s- Look- I couldn’t help myself, shut up.”

Smells like laundry detergent with a good mix of apple cinnamon, it’s so warm and inviting that you resist the urge to drool.

He’s a good kisser. Fantastic, even. So much so that it intimidates you in a way that leaves you a bit hesitant, but for good reason. 

Don’t tell him that though, he’d be smug as hell about it.

Every time he kisses you or shows you the slightest ounce of reckless affection, it leaves you with the rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins.

Sometimes to settle your nerves, Shinsou would encircle his hand around your wrist and graze his thumb against your palm before he leans in to lay one on you.

But that just adds more onto that case as to why he’s so smooth. Sure, it helps but at the same time, it doesn’t because shit!

Majority of the selfies and pictures that you send your boyfriend are immediately saved for safekeeping.

Shinsou has a million things to say about the way you look. You never fail to have him whipped every time he gets a notification from you on his phone, alerting him with “2 New Attachments”. 

But someway somehow, his compliments dial down to, “You look cute” or a heart emoji, maybe both if you’re lucky.

It’s just difficult for him to put into words exactly what he’s feeling because it’s an overwhelming flurry of emotions.

A little later into the relationship, you clue into the fact that Shinsou is a giver. He doesn’t really mind sharing with his stuff with his future S/O, to a degree.

For instance, Shisnou would be the type to add his S/O onto the accounts of his paid monthly subscriptions and whatnot, free of charge.

All he asks in return is that you don’t share it with anybody.

Sometimes you’d catch odd activity going on in your account though. Like the shows you’ve watched are a few episodes ahead from where you last left off on. 

And when you bring this up to your boyfriend, he claps back with a, “Why are you watching Grey’s Anatomy out of all the shows on Netflix… do better.” 

He loves nitpicking/critiquing what you watch, and would put you onto the shows that he favours.

Shinsou shows you off, in the sense that his friends and family are acquainted with the fact that you’re together. That is if they ask him about it first. 

Shinsou makes sure that you’re familiarized with his friends. Would even go as far as to add you into one of his group chats where they all game together, if you ever wanted to play with him and his friends.

“I’ll see if (Y/N)’s down to hop on tonight.”

And if you fucking suck at video games, that’s okay because Shinsou would allow you to ride on his coattails and would bring the dub home for you and your team.

“Shinsou, I beat the level!”

“... Sure.”

Speaking of friends, he tolerates yours and can’t remember the names of them. 

But he does remember their key physical features, which is better than nothing <3.

Also, this man is blunt/sarcastic as hell, it also plays well into his humour. That side of him will stay in the relationship, but honestly, it drives the oomph factor/energy of your relationship home.

“Shinsou, would you still be my boyfriend if I were-” 

“No.”

“Okay, thank you~”

You two have the kind of relationship that makes people go, “God, I’ve seen what you have done for others...” or “It hurts to see other people living your dream.” You’re just so compatible with each other.

[nocturnal-milk-dud]

Someone to Take Care of You

I have a Ray Merrimen fic I should finish and a Carrillo fic I want to write but apparently Frankie Morales owns my ass. I don’t understand it either

Pairing: Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales x Reader

Summary: You (Reader) have a cold and Frankie comes over to take care of you

Rating: PG for language

Warnings/notes: the fluffiest shit ever; like this is the cutest shit I think i’ve ever done; i feel like i wrote this really fast and messed up something and missed it, so critiques are welcome

Word count: 1420

Tag list: (once again tagging y’all cause you’ve enjoyed and/or responded to the others. if you don’t want to be tagged in the future ((assuming there’s more)), let me know) @dodgerandevans @reading-rosa​ @pascaliprincess @souls-rain @heythere-mel @bi-son-writes @slugbuggie

Crumpled tissues littered the floor and you were burrowed under a mound of blankets on the couch, staring blankly at the TV. You couldn’t breathe through your nose and the skin under and around your nostrils was red and irritated. You groped around aimlessly on the floor for the box of tissues and another cough drop as the burning started to creep back into your throat. Your phone went off as you blew your nose, wincing at the sensation.

“I thought this shit was supposed to be softer,” you grumbled, flinging the tissue on the floor. You looked at your phone and saw a text from Frankie. 

Where are you?

“Where am I?” It dawned on you then: Benny’s fight. You had been planning on meeting the guys there, then heading out for drinks afterward. “So much for that.” You texted back that you were sick, saying you’d see them another night. 

Do you need anything? You smiled at your phone, thinking of all the things that would make you feel better at that moment. At the top of your list was someone to hold you, but you weren’t about to tell Frankie that. Jokingly, you told him you needed brownies, and set your phone on the table, nestling back under the blankets. You smiled to yourself as you closed your eyes, feeling grateful to have someone in your life like Frankie. You two had known each other for a long time and he was always someone you could rely on if you ever really needed anything. It was a good feeling when so many of the friendships in your life felt awkward and impersonal. 

You must have slept, but for how long you had no idea, because you woke up to a knocking at your door. 

“No,” you mumbled, turning away and pulling your blankets up over your head. Your phone rang and you whined, flailing around for it, wanting more than anything for it to stop. Why was it so loud? Why was it on? Why was anyone calling you? You glanced at the screen through narrowed eyelids.

“Fish?” you answered, your voice a nasally rasp. Why on earth was he calling? 

“Open the door, I have brownies.” You whipped your head around to look at the door, then looked around your mess of a living space. You stumbled to your feet and tried to scoop up the pile of tissues on the floor, but the wave of pain that hit your forehead when you leaned over was too much.

“You’re supposed to be at Benny’s fight and then getting drinks with the guys,” you said, making your way to the door. You wrenched it open to find Frankie standing there, bags of groceries in his hand. Clearly he’d felt you needed more than brownies.

“There’ll be other fights,” he said, a small smile on his face. He hung up his phone and you did the same, stepping aside to let him in. You turned, watching him as he headed for the kitchen and you looked around your living room, taking in the mess you’d made.

“If I’d known you were coming I’d have cleaned up,” you said, feeling embarrassed. You thought then about how you looked too: hair falling out of a sloppy bun, the red skin around your nose, and you sniffed your hoodie before you remembered that you couldn’t smell. You didn’t want Frankie seeing you like this. You didn’t want anybody seeing you like this. 

“You’re sick, it’s no big deal,” Frankie said. You walked into the kitchen, standing there like a little kid as you watched him empty the contents of the bags on the counter. There was a package of brownies, as promised, but there was also cold medication, more tissues, more cough drops, soup, orange juice, tea, and honey. The slightest of smiles crossed your face as you looked at everything. 

“How are you feeling?” Frankie asked. Before you could respond, he reached out and put his hand to your forehead and cheek, feeling for a temperature, and your eyes went wide for a moment at the unexpected touch. 

“Crummy,” you said, once you remembered he’d asked you a question. “No fever, just a sore throat and my nose hates me.” Frankie held up a bottle of lotion. 

“This should help with the irritation,” he said, gesturing around his own nose. “And there’s some nasal spray.” 

“Thanks, Frankie,” you said, smiling softly at him. 

“Have you eaten anything?” he asked, taking his jacket off and placing it on the back of a kitchen chair. You thought about the handful of Chex cereal you didn’t taste earlier, followed by the water that seemed to somehow only burn your throat more. 

“Yes,” you said slowly, “but I don’t think it counts.” Your eyes found the package of brownies and you reached out for them.

“Nope,” Frankie said, placing a hand on the box. “No brownies yet.” 

“Fish,” you whined, your lips falling into a pout. “I’m sick, remember?” 

“Yeah, and you need real food first. Go sit down and I’ll make you some soup.” Your shoulders slumped and you looked from him to the brownies and back again, the pout staying on your face. Try as he might, he couldn’t keep a straight face.

“Vamos,” Frankie said, laughing. You did as he said, walking back into the living room and curling up on the couch. You had the TV on, but you turned the volume down when you realized Frankie was humming while he worked. It was a light, soft sound and you closed your eyes, feeling more comfortable than you had all day. 

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Frankie said, setting a bowl of chicken noodle soup on the coffee table in front of you. You hadn’t been sleeping, but you had drifted off someplace, and you opened your eyes to see him cleaning the tissues off the floor. You had melted into the couch while he was in the kitchen, but now you tossed the blankets aside and got to your feet.

“No, no, Frankie, please, I’ll clean those up.” It was one thing for him to bring you groceries and make you food, but you hated the idea of him cleaning up after you. You always tried to keep a clean home, especially when you knew people were coming over; you couldn’t stand the idea of someone thinking even for a moment that you were a slob.

“It’s not a big deal, eat.” You ignored him and crouched down to clean up the tissues yourself, but you should have known that was a bad idea. The headrush came back, and you closed your eyes, placing a hand on Frankie’s shoulder to steady yourself. His hand came up under your elbow.

“You okay?” Frankie asked, and you took a deep breath, nodding slowly. 

“I think so,” you said. 

“Hey.” You opened your eyes to find him looking at you very intently. “I’m here to take care of you. I know what being sick is like, I know how gross it can be. I know you’re not at your best and neither is your place, and that’s okay. Let me help.” You looked down at the floor, feeling like you were ready to cry, not because you were upset, but because Frankie’s kindness overwhelmed you. God, you really needed to sleep. 

“Thank you,” you said. Frankie helped you straighten up and get back over to the couch. You snuggled back into your spot and carefully ate the soup while he cleaned up in the living room and in the kitchen. When he came back he was carrying the brownies and you grinned as he set them on the coffee table. 

“Just so we’re clear, brownies aren’t a good food to eat when you’re sick. Nothing with a lot of sugar is, but I feel like you’ll kill me if I don’t let you have them, so…” Frankie trailed off, making you laugh, but your face fell when you realized he had his jacket in his hand, that he was heading out. You thought about the list of things you needed, what was at the top, as you watched him walk towards the door, and your heart stuttered in your chest.

“Hey, Fish,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, making him turn. “There’s one more thing I need, if you wouldn’t mind.” 

You fell asleep that night in Frankie’s arms, your head on his chest, thinking that there were some upsides to being sick.