#on top of all my actually life shit i have to do

[a-substantial-trash-pile]

mouthwashing responsibility au rambles below cut 🫡

(spoiler warning for the actual game obviously)

- even though jimmy got deservedly knocked out by anya and thrown into the cryopod early on, the crash still does happen. it's a freak accident this time, like maybe a piece of space debris just happened to hurtle right into them without time to dodge. it's like the tulpar is destined to crash. but this time it's a story about a group of people finding hope and strength in each other and finding what they themselves can be capable of in a time of crisis. btw i just mean curly, anya, swansea, and daisuke. i am NOT repenting jimmy. he ain't "fixing" shit.

- i'm sorry for frying curly again even though this is supposed to be an au with a happier ending 😭 the way his loss of autonomy reflects anya's own loss of it, making him feel firsthand the suffering she went through in a way, felt too important to just remove. curly's injuries aren't as terrible as in the original timeline since swansea rescued him earlier. and by "not as terrible" i mean he only loses a leg and not all of his limbs. he will get some function in his hands eventually and anya teaches him sign language to help him communicate (she teaches the others too).

- speaking of anya, she really shows her stuff as a nurse (even in the original timeline she does, managing to keep curly alive like that). she treats curly and swansea and is much more of a pillar of strength for the crew than she herself realizes. pre-crash and post-jimmy-getting-fired, she was able to relax and open up more with everyone, building a stronger bond. when the crash happens, anya is of course terrified and hella stressed, but now she knows she has people who have her back, and it helps. she can be more confident in herself without a certain someone being there to belittle and hurt her. this time when she has to deal with something difficult, something traumatizing, she has people to support her. in this au, she is not pregnant because if she was, i don't see how keeping the baby would be a good thing for her. and i don't want her to have to deal with that situation without the proper medical supplies on top of everything else. she's been through enough.

- btw there is no shipping in this au. i personally really don't see how it could happen between anyone on the crew. if there was some sort of spark between anya and curly, it's definitely gone now and won't happen again. the most they'll be are friends (although the friendship/trust will have to be built from the ground up again after everything that's happened with jimmy). the only ship here is the tulpar.

- i know daisuke is seen as a "dumb kid" but i really don't think that's the case. we are seeing him thru jimmy's perspective mostly after all and jimmy is the definition of an unreliable narrator. i headcanon daisuke as having adhd like me who tends to lose focus on tasks easily because your brain is just going 102929 miles a minute and wandering to all sorts of places like me. he feels like someone who doesn't exactly know where they want to go in life like me. also he's definitely a hawaii kid born and raised and talks pidgin sometimes like me except i lost the pidgin :(. i'm totally not projecting my asian ass on the asian boy or anything. BUT ANYWAY i wanted to give daisuke more stuff to do and a chance to prove to himself that he can do these things, he can step up. so that's partially why i made swansea burn his hands rescuing curly. daisuke can now be filled with Determination and be swansea's hands in repairing things as he heals. it's going to be hard and it's going to be frustrating for both parties and sometimes they'll get upset at each other. but it will inevitably be a great bonding experience for the two. i cannot resist the call for more father-son moments.

- swansea my beloved. i am so sorry for burning your beautiful hands please forgive 😔🙏 i have to make my faves suffer a little. swansea's hands will heal up eventually and he'll be able to use them again, but there will be scars. i think him having to guide daisuke with doing repairs n stuff on the ship as his hands recover gives him a mission. something to distract him from completely falling into despair and alcoholism. that man is hanging on by a thread but by god he's going to help get these kids through this. they've all grown closer since jimmy was sacked and swansea feels a sort of responsibility towards protecting anya, daisuke and curly as the oldest one there. it's the dad instincts y'know? on the real hard days, sometimes swansea thinks about cracking open a bottle of mouthwash, but he holds back because he feels he needs to stay strong for the crew. however he does have to learn that he can't shoulder everything and that he can rely on others. him having no choice but to have daisuke take over his tasks is a good way for him to learn that, i think. swansea is definitely a pillar of strength in this and the rest of the crew have a lot of affection for him (and vice versa even if swansea won't admit it). can you tell i really like swansea. he is such a foil to jimmy—a guy who has fucked up a lot in his life but actually acknowledges his mistakes and is trying his hardest to be a better person. aghh swansea i love you 💛💛

- after the crash happens, the cryopod room becomes inaccessible, so nobody is able to check on the state of jimmy in there. so they don't see that the crypod he's in eventually fails from damage and he escapes. this happens a couple weeks into the crash. jimmy is still pissed about everything and still can't see how he's done anything wrong (this is because he is a delusional asshole). in fact, he feels like he's the one who's been wronged and betrayed by everyone on the crew and he wants revenge. there will be a final confrontation between jimmy and the crew. spoilers: jimmy loses. i'm just undecided on who finishes it. it would be fitting if anya shot him, but i'm not sure that's something she'd necessarily want to do. she chose to be in the medical field after all. don't get me wrong, i think she would pull the trigger if it meant protecting the others. but i'd hate to have her kill, because even if jimmy deserves it, anya is a healer and would still probably feel guilty about it. i don't want to put even more shit on her plate. so i think swansea is the one to put jimmy down in the end. with the axe of course. i think he'd feel less guilty about doing it because it's something he's wanted to do since anya first told him about jimmy. oooh what if jimmy gets his hands on the gun, but daisuke tackles him, making him drop it, and anya gets it and shoots jimmy in the shoulder or leg or something to get him off of daisuke, and then swansea comes in with the axe to finish him off. that could be fun. that way anya won't have to actually kill but she'll still get to shoot jimmy. bless.

- the crew gets rescued eventually, but it's going to be a few months because pony express is a nightmare company. i'm honestly still not sure if pony express is even the one who will rescue them or even bother to look. i'm tempted to just have another ship happen across them by some miracle and help. real tempted to make that ship The Unreliable and turn this into a Mouthwashing x The Outer Worlds crossover quite honestly since both settings share similarities (megacorporations, cryosleep, etc). but idk. it's not like i can just write a fanfic or anything since writing is harder for me and who knows how long it will be before i even draw the idea. it's just yet another self-indulgent daydream for now.

[heavenlyraindrops]

The Devil Made Me Do It | Arcane | Silco x Reader | Chapter Ten

available on AO3 and Quotev | visit the first tag for other chapters | warnings: very brief mention of blood, profanity, smoking

summary:

In the midst of an unfortunate run-in with the enforcers, you meet the young revolutionary Silco, and by extension, his friends Vander and Felicia. Growing close friends, you get through life in the undercity together, determined to make Zaun a better place. Until tragedy strikes, and betrayal and carelessness stabs hard enough to turn you bitter. Years later as time solidifies the scars, Silco proves to be a thorn in your side. You, in his. Hatred festers. And your world cracks further open.

Chapter Ten:

You tugged your black top, which had ridden up your midriff, back down towards your belt as you stormed into the Last Drop, shoving patrons as you passed through the crowd. Sevika was at a table, ashtray half-full and glass half empty.

Scowling, you grabbed her arm, the one concealed by her cloak. Your hand made contact with metal through the fabric.

She stared at you. “[name],” she said flatly. You snatched your hand away, balling it into a fist. 

“Tell me-“ you stabbed a finger at her chest, “there’s been men at my doorstep at least three times this week.”

She scoffed. “Probably because you run a brothel.”

“You know that’s not what I mean,” you hissed. She stared at you, a frown carving a notch into her forehead, before nodding at her tablemates. Slamming her palms onto the surface a little too hard she slowly heaved herself up.

“Let’s talk somewhere else,” she said.

You watched as she went to a corner, nodding at a door. You stared at her incredulously.

“Go in there with you?” You yelled over the din. “You must be insane.”

She groaned, and within moments you were both standing outside.

“You look real different, dressed like a normal person.” She nodded at your toned-down appearance. You scowled, flicking a hair out of your face. “Almost didn’t recognise you.”

“Whatever.” You took out a cigarette, rolling it between your fingers between placing it in between your lips. You’d dropped any efforts to keep up your beguiling, siren-like facade around Sevika- there was no point. You flicked open your lighter, palm shielding the flame.

“So what’s all this about men outside the brothel?”

“They’ve been heckling my girls. And guys,” you added. “I assumed they had something to do with your- boss, considering the fact I have something he wants.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to say his name, now that someone was actually listening.

Sevika must have taken notice of this, because her lips twitched. But she didn’t mention it. “You know, you look a lot like when we were younger. Before everything went to shit.”

“Did he send them?” Your voice was stone cold and hard. Sevika scowled at this.

“Of course he fucking didn’t. You think he’d stoop that low? I thought you knew him.”

You took a deep drag on your cigarette, not meeting her eyes as you exhaled. Your leg threatened to bounce with well-concealed anxiety. “Well, I don’t now. I want these bastards dealt with.”

Sevika crossed her arms. “Since when do I have to deal with your problems? Last I checked, it’s not you I’m working for.”

You scowled. “Well, something’s telling me that this is gonna be your problem soon enough,” you snapped. “Considering the fact that they’re looking for your boss.”

She paused. “Wait, what?”

“They keep bugging us about him. No idea why us,” you sneered, “because I’d rather shoot myself in the foot than be associated with you or his people, but sadly that’s the case. So hurry up and fix this before I send them your way for good.” You pushed the cigarette into her chest. “Enjoy, errand-girl.”

And with that you turned around and stalked off, pulling your coat around you as your brisk steps carried you away from the Last Drop. Breath misting in the air, you turned to look at Sevika. But all you saw was the door swinging shut as she disappeared back into the bar. 

-

You hurried back into the brothel, a gust of warm air enveloping you in a snug, cozy embrace. Immediately the feeling was quenched as you turned and saw a girl with big glassy eyes and mousy brown hair looking up at you, arms outstretched.

You gingerly shrugged off your coat and dumped it in her hands. She followed you to your office, hovering anxiously around the beaded curtains.

“What is it?” You sounded miffed.

“Your coat, Madam. I was instructed to leave it in your office.”

“Then why’d you make me take it off?” 

But nonetheless, you beckoned for her to come in. She placed it on a hook in the corner, and you curled your finger, calling her forwards. A cigarette dangling from your bottom lip, you placed something in her soft palm.

She unfurled her fingers. “Do you know what that is?” She shook her head.

You took it back from her, flicked it open, and pushed down. Flame erupted from the lighter, illuminating a freckle on her face. Her eyes widened and she shuffled back.

“Don’t be afraid,” you said, snapping it shut. You gently but firmly took hold of her wrist, tugging it forward and pushing it back into her hand. You leaned back, arm slung across the back of the couch, and gestured to your cigarette.

She leaned over the armrest and, with a trembling thumb, pushed down as you’d shown her. The flame jumped a little too close to your face and you moved your head back, eyes widening, as she hurriedly snapped it shut.

She froze, waiting for a reprimand. But you didn’t say anything, just sucked on the cigarette and smiled at her, eyes looking at her without turning your face. You tipped your head back and let the smoke curl in the air.

“Hand-eye coordination needs some work,” you commented. She nodded.

“Yes, Madam.”

“What’s your name?”

“Alice-“

Your eyes widened, chest tightening.

“-son.”

You blinked. “What?”

“Allison,” she repeated timidly. You were shaking, she noticed, and took a quick step back.

Chewing on your lip, your eyes crawled across her face desperately. She looked…

Scared.

You could taste blood on your tongue. You released your bloodied lip from between your teeth, then soothed it with your tongue.

This girl is not Alice, you reminded yourself. 

“You look tired,” you remarked, relaxing. “Have you been getting a good night’s sleep?”

“No,” she admitted silently. You tilted your head, raising an eyebrow. “The mattresses are hard,” she said regretfully. “Not that I’m complaining, Madam,” she added hastily.

You chuckled. “No, please. Feel free to complain.”

She couldn’t tell if you were being sarcastic or not, as you patted the spot on the couch next to you. She clambered onto the cushions obediently.

You took another thoughtful drag, then blew out the smoke, cigarette poised in between your fingers as you leaned into Allison.

“Will I tell you something important?”

She nodded, eyes wide.

“I used to have a daughter just like you.” You looked the girl up and down. “Same age, same eyes, same hair. Almost the same name.”

Allison knotted her little fingers together in her lap, looking up at you in wonder as you smoked some more.

“But she died.” Your tone was flat. 

Allison recoiled. “Killed by enforcers,” you continued. You looked at the little girl, silently staring at her.

Then you sighed.

“You can sleep on the couch tonight, if you want. A welcome change from the mattresses.” You leaned forward and stubbed out the cigarette on the ashtray that lay on the table, next to the long-wilted rose, and rubbed the bridge of your nose. “I’d have them changed if they weren’t the best we could afford in Zaun. Piltie bastards are probably sleeping well into the afternoon.”

She didn’t say anything.

“My bedroom is that door,” you told her, pointing to a door next to a bookshelf. “The office locks from the inside.”

“This is too generous, Madam,” Allison whispered.

You scoffed. “Not at all. You’ll have a job, you know.”

Allison looked up expectantly, and you stumbled around your words to find an excuse. “Uhh… clean up the office every now and then. And lock it once I go to bed.”

Allison smiled. “Alright.”

“And if I have anything else that needs tending to then expect the responsibility to fall to you, in the case that you’re able for such tasks.”

Allison nodded, bowing her head. “Yes, Madam.”

You flicked your hand at her. “Right, now… go away.”

Allison scuttled away into the front entrance of the brothel, cutting across and eventually disappearing into another narrow hallway. You followed after her, looking around. Beads, lanterns, curtains. Sickly sweet incense, mist swirling across the floor. A new client had just passed in through the doorway. She was looking behind herself nervously as she hurried in.

You silently watched her from the spot in the corner you’d chosen to lean on, obscured by the sheer fabric draped across the ceiling. She disappeared hand in hand with one of your men, and a tall, broad figure stepped into view.

Sevika.

You brushed the sheer drapes as you emerged, mist coiling around your feet as you walked.

“I thought we already spoke today,” you said steadily, expression even as you studied her face.

“What if I came here for your services?” She sounded amused.

“You don’t look like it. Hurry up, tell me what it is.”

Sevika squared her shoulders, gaze roving around the all-took familiar room. It eventually settled back on your face.

“He wants a meeting with you.”

“What?”

“You deaf?” She tilted her head. “He wants to meet with you in his office. Tomorrow night.”

“No.” Your response was fast.

You couldn’t face him. You’d rather never speak to him face to face again- your last in-person interaction, despite years ago, had been quite fond and you knew that whatever version of him you’d meet if you went would simply take on the image of the man you used to know.

Sevika frowned at you. “Are you okay?”

You were breathing hard. “No, I’m not. Get out.”

She stepped towards you. “[name].”

“What’s it about?” You hissed. “I’ll talk to you. Come on.” You stepped towards your office.

For a moment, you thought Sevika would protest, but she simply followed you silently after a quick moment of hesitation. You shut the door properly.

“Sit down.”

“I think I’ll stand.” There was a glint in her eye you didn’t miss.

“It wasn’t a request.”

Sighing and rolling her shoulders back, she assumed her usual position on the couch.

You didn’t sit down, choosing to remain standing. You crossed your arms, leg shaking. “What’s the issue?”

“It’s the men. They’re here for, er, other people.”

“What?” She couldn’t be any less clear- your pounding head was beginning to grow fuzzy. 

“You’re harbouring more wanted men and women than you think, or than you’d like to admit. We need to round them up, and finish them off,” she said steadily. You frowned at her.

“I’m not giving up innocent people,” you spat.

“Believe me, [name],” her voice was strained with exasperation. “They are far from innocent. Just hand them over, and this whole ordeal can be over. No more men at your door, no more Silco breathing down your neck.”

You took a deep breath, rubbing your face, considering her words.

“And I have your word that whatever happens to them next will be deserved, be it good or bad?” You asked quietly.

She was surprisingly solemn in her response. “You have my word.”

“Fine. I’ll round them up, and drop them off tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow night, the Last Drop. Ten o’clock.”

You scoffed. “Yeah, whatever you say. But-“ you held up your hand. “I want a trade.”

She stared at you. “What?”

You scowled. “You think I’ll just give away my men for free? I want something in return.”

She suppressed a groan. “And what might that be? Money? Shimmer?”

You bit your lip, thinking. “I need collateral.”

She stared at you blankly. “Well, we don’t have collateral.”

“Something I can hold over his head,” you ploughed on. She laughed. 

“You know I’m right here, right? It’s my boss you’re scheming against.”

“I don’t give a flying fuck. Whatever, just- give me men in return.” 

“Wh- men?”

“Employee for employee.” You’d fully regained your composure by now, and you adjusted the cuffs of your sleeves. “It’s only fair.”

She stared at you incredulously. “Well, who would you want?”

“I’ll take my pick when the time comes,” you hummed, waving her out. She scowled, flinging the door open. Hand still on the doorknob, she paused, twisting her head around.

“You’re a real piece of work, you know that?” She snarled.

You grinned. “So I’ve been told.”

[alexanderwales]

Save the Cat!: the short review

I liveblogged this book (anything tagged #save the cat on this blog), but this is the actual review of it.

Save the Cat! by Blake Snyder is a book about screenwriting, and it's very specifically about screenwriting spec scripts in order to get huge sales for movies. Blake Snyder worked mostly with family films, PG affairs, and sold a pretty large number of scripts, most of them by sticking to a formula. He knew a lot of people in the business, and his ethos seems like it was their ethos (though I should probably read a few other books for comparison before making any sweeping generalizations).

Blake Snyder is a hack screenwriter, but he's a hack's hack, and aside from a few completely unwarranted barbs at films which were more commercially successful and societally important than anything he would ever end up doing with his life (he died in 2009), he seems to understand who and what he was. He's writing screenplays to sell those screenplays for the highest possible dollar amount. He calls his screenplays "product". He cares about good story only in the sense that he wants whatever producer or actor is reading the script to think that it's hot shit.

Some of this is probably an act, Snyder playing up some version of himself like a good writer would. He contradicts himself at certain points, and reveals that he doesn't walk the walk quite so cleanly as the rest of the book would have us believe. He's brash, in a way that I found charming.

He's also irritating, because I fundamentally disagree with this approach to making art, and maybe that would be fine if I could just say "eh, we have very different goals" but he also doesn't seem to understand his own system very well, nor does he seem eager to explore it, and he's constantly just saying stuff without regard to whether or not it's true, or makes sense. I get the feeling that the book was written in a bit of a rush, something to work on while beating out scripts, rather than being a labor of careful love. That it took off was either his marketing talents or just that its paint-by-numbers specifics are really appealing. There are pieces that I would have pegged as being written by GPT if the book didn't predate LLMs by a wide margin, especially some examples that make no damned sense and his rambling-but-formulaic way of imparting lessons.

A lot of the examples are also kind of eye-rolling, but I cut him a little slack, because it's hard to write about writing, and giving examples of tricks you use is one of the hardest parts. You kind of need the reader to have read/seen the thing in its entirety, because if you give the brief version, with no investment or background, it just seems lame. Some of this is also Snyder, who worked mostly in 90s PG family movies: those examples are always going to be a bit cringe.

This book is the #1 book in Amazon for screenwriting, and so far as I can tell, has been the top book for screenwriting since it came out twenty years ago. It's a bestseller. As a writer, I think it's kind of crap, both because it pushes formula and because I think that it's not likely to result in very good scripts. I think you can tell a good story using this formula, but once you've mastered the formula and understand how all the pieces are supposed to move together along with the principles of storytelling, you won't need the formula. The book also does a bad job on principles of storytelling, at least in my opinion, dancing around them rather than laying them out in a clear and concise way, and especially in the middle it's poorly structured, which is somewhat ironic given how much Snyder seems to lean on structure.

I have never written a screenplay, much less sold one. Going into 2024, I told myself that this would be the year to give it a go, and I've been writing a comic, which is much closer to screenwriting than prose fiction. Maybe 2025 is going to be my year to actually sit down and hammer out a screenplay, but I can't say that I expect to take too much from this book.

[bandtrees]

they would get divorced in one universe just to find eachother in another one

alternatively titled: sometimes you're the level-headed token flesh-head impulse-control-and-polycule-member of a stubborn, eccentric, and hearty telephone-headed drug addict, and there's cruelty in the world you deem fit to suicidally fight, and that either goes about as well as you'd expect it to, or you learn about love and the value of your life and junk along the way

[cent-scratchnsniff]

it was just going to be a few warmup doodles but then she infected the rest of the page like the ever eternal and spreading spores. hod!!! hod. hod :)

[bitchfitch]

I've started playing Potion Permit, and so far it's one of my favorite games I've messed around with, but the most big brained move the devs made was giving you a dog on day 1, and then making that dog able to track NPCs and lead you directly to them no matter where they are in the town.

[non-un-topo]

My Neekeys over the last two-odd years. I was curious to see the changes 🤔

[nomairuins]

i like overthink everything now it makes me feel so dumb. i used 2 be able to just talk 2 ppl but nowadays every single thing im like Is that actually going to make them hate me. Yes probably. and then i just dont respond which makes ppl hate me. this is how it is

[moneygoblin04]

I am stressed, and I am on edge, and I feel like I'm actually, legitimately reaching my limit. It's kinda funny how my mom was the one to push me there

[pretty-little-martyr]

always a little unsettling to be lsitening to a reddit story about someone who's being kind of a piece of shit and then partway through the OP is like "i found out theyre bipolar" and suddenly all the comments are like "typical, of course theyre crazy, only bipolars do [x thing that pretty much any human is capable of doing]"

[lee-blogs]

Still packing stuff and now i'm looking for a box for this.

My dad and i made it a few years ago for halloween, probably 2015/16 if i'm remembering right. It's made from a lays can, a wipes container from his work, and paper maché. I don't remember what the wires and front metal bits are from, but the middle actually lights up! It has one of those long battery-powered emergancy lights in it and some colored tissue paper

[skitskatdacat63]

Orb...

+ process kinda

[immamapletreekid]

ok movie thoughts time

[thedappleddragon]

Hmm

[atomiclace]

who knew that some agere people would be the worst type of people to exist (talking about you spinny)

[saintknightley]

i feel like i abandoned comics but i just have a tumultuous on and off again relationship with marvel and we are currently going through a divorce