#part of the realization was that i don't have to toss out the old format of messy unorganized things

[brittlebutch]

autism win!!! i successfully realized that i could organize the notes I take on beloved shows if i rewrite them from scratch in a new, clearly labeled/delineated format

[torturedtypewritersdept]

proclivity - part two - the punisher

✯ pairing:

ex!bff!rafe cameron x diabetic!kook!fem!reader

✯ summary:

at one point in time rafe was your best friend. can summer romance erase all the damage he's done?

✯ [4.1k] warnings:

mature themes, mentions of anxiety, nostalgia, heartbreak, diabetes lingo, injury, ghosting, fluff and fear, domestic violence (not rafe), mean!ex!jj etc.

✯ a/n:

nothing!! please don't engage if you have a hard time with any of these topics <3 this was origianlly posted on my old blog @/illicitfixations, @/lovelornanonymity and i have rewritten + reshared it here :) trying out a new format with this post, hope you like it!

You wake again, tangled in your pink satin sheets, legs slick with sweat from your incessant tossing and turning. The mattress is worn in. Well, for a kook it is. It was once pristine, you could’ve been compared to the princess and the pea now as it made slumber hard and your muscles ache. Though, you weren’t sure if you could blame it on the mattress or the sickness that lingered within your body. Your reality quickly crashes down around you and it looms like a sleep-paralysis demon in the corner of your room; lurking, waiting for the perfect time to pounce and grab you by the throat. You imagine that the pounce isn’t what’s the most terrifying part of it – no it’s the way it grabs your throat, the way you scream but there’s no sound, nothing will come out. That’s dramatic – the analogy, you know it is. But, you can’t stop yourself from wondering why in the fuck Rafe motherfucking Cameron was defending you against your ex-boyfriend a mere ten hours prior. You can’t stop yourself from wondering why after years of radio silence would Rafe have come to your defense. You can’t stop yourself from creating the comparison between the way the ache of his memory, his touch washes over you – chokes you the way demon does. You were an old friend, that had to be what it was – maybe the nostalgia got to him – yeah, that’s it. He doesn’t care, he hasn’t cared for a long time; maybe he never did at all. That’s the only option that makes sense. You quickly throw your blankets off of you as your phone chimes. You find yourself hoping it's Rafe, which is odd, you haven’t hoped that in years. The sting of his absence has truly never ceased the way you had originally hoped that it would. You swallow the disappointment feverishly as you realize it's one of your other favorite Cameron’s – Sarah Elizabeth. She is the only one of the pogues that you are still currently speaking to because she swears up and down that she didn’t know about JJ’s indiscretions. She’s also more kook than pogue and you’re sure maybe she always will be. You trust her – you have to – she’s never lied to you in thirteen years, not that you’re aware of anyway. She’s been begging you to come hangout for weeks and you had to bluntly tell her that if any of the pogues were invited you would not be joining, under any circumstances whatsoever. You look at your messages finally as you force yourself to turn your thoughts off. 

sarah elizabeth: can you please do me a favor? 

You reply, sarcasm oozing from every letter typed out. 

does the great sarah cameron need me? What for?? 

You wait, the three bubbles popping up quickly, bobbing up and down as she thinks of a way to frame the favor you need her for. You smirk as her reply comes through. 

sarah elizabeth: don’t be a dickhead. c’mon, pretty please?? 

You quickly type back. 

depends what it is, princess. 

Your tone is cheeky, yet playful. This – she can work with. That’s what she thinks as she presses send again. 

sarah elizabeth: be my plus one on The Druthers today. No pogues. No rafe. Pretty please. 

You roll your eyes, but quickly agree. You know you can’t keep her waiting forever. 

pick me up in five. You owe me btw. 

—

Your feet strut down the dock loudly, padding after Sarah. She’s evergreen – she always has been, though you don’t know evergreen is the right use of wordage. She’s lively and bright like golden hour at the beach or the cotton candy skies you love to see above the water in the summer. She’s bold and audacious and you love her more than anyone. She turns from her jog, looking back at you as she giggles. She reaches back to you, grabbing your hand and you run with her for a moment. She looks back again, eyes full of love. The moment ends abruptly as she rushes into none other than her brother. You gasp – surprised. Sarah is too, her face quickly falls and she becomes angry as she hits his rock-hard abs with her tinier frame. If you were any more of a loser, you’d probably be drooling at the sight of him, tan-skin glistening in the sun. His abs are rock-hard, you notate on the invisible legal pad in your brain, a pen full of imaginary ink that is definitely leaking all over your hands. Even your imaginary self – the one in your brain – is a clutz around him. You internally groan. His jaw is set with annoyance as his sister rudely runs into him. However, the anger is quickly forgotten as he looks up and your eyes meet. Even from a good distance away, you are lost in the pool of his eyes. They are blue with hues of green and white in places; another reason why he is truly a sight for sore eyes. His demeanor instantly changes, he swallows thickly and Sarah brings the attention back to herself, like she always does. 

“What aren’t you going to say hi?”

She smirks, winking at him. 

“Uh, Yeah – hi, y/n. I’m sorry for the surprised face, I just didn’t know you’d be here.” 

You don’t say anything. Instead, opting for a simple head nod. 

“Everybody on!” 

Ward calls out, waving the three of you in. You walk ahead of Sarah, eager to get away from the both of them. 

“Be nice to her. I’ve been begging her to get out of the house for weeks, okay? Don’t ruin this. Just be nice and let her have a good day.” 

He sheepishly nodded his head. 

“Y-Yeah, okay. I promise not to be an asshole.” 

She smiles up at him in return. She knows he’s worked hard over the last eight months and he is a better man than before. So leans up and kisses him on the cheek. 

“I know, buddy.” 

—

Sarah asking you out for a day on The Druthers wasn’t completely unorthodox. You’d spent many summers where the only thing the two of you cared about was soaking in sun and letting the ocean’s salty kiss envelope you. There wasn’t anything wrong with that – especially if it was just going to be the two of you (no pogues). It’s currently the middle of June and you had a day off, so you thought, ‘Why not?’ There’s truly nothing wrong with enjoying yourself, even though you were surprised by the presence of Rafe and then John B showing up just as Ward was ready to set sail. The latter really fucking annoyed you, because well – Sarah had said no pogues and you were still feeling rather betrayed by all of them – John B included. You had agreed reluctantly to begin with and now – you were living in a nightmare; sandwiched between Rafe and Wheezie in 100 degree weather. If you could turn back time, if you could be someone else, someone with no history with him, with no longing for him to return to you like a phoenix, this would be your dream; his beefy arms pressed against yours.You weren’t sure why Sarah had even invited you now, because she was attached to John B’s hip and you could only watch in horror as they licked each other’s faces off right in front of everyone. Long forgotten was the ghost of who you’d met when you were seven, who she used to be; a princess in pigtails, and to think you considered her more kook than pogue just a few hours earlier. Rafe watched as you grimaced, looking on at them. He laughed, remembering your distaste for public affection, not just for Sarah and John B’s. You locked eyes with him and a grin made its way across your lips. It felt like you could look into his blue orbs forever. Forever was a strong word, since forever ended the second he looked away. This was all you got from him now, stolen glances and grins with no words to follow. It always left you wanting more. You immediately hated yourself for falling for his shit. You knew he didn’t mean it. It was so easy – falling back into it. 

You could feel the sweat pouring down your back right as Ward anchored the boat and decided it was time for a swim, so you got up, pulling your t-shirt off to reveal the gorgeous white one piece you had opted to wear so Rafe wouldn’t notice the scars on your stomach from your pump. You had taken the pump off and set a timer for one hour to remind yourself to put it back on after you were done swimming. Rafe still didn’t know about your illness and you wanted to keep it that way. He admired your body and the slender bathing suit that covered it, thinking about how in the world someone could be that beautiful. He looked on in awe as he watched you run and dive into the water and chuckled when the after effects of your splash came onto the boat to drench Sarah and John B. 

“Seriously?!” 

Sarah called out, shaking the water off of her like a wet dog. 

“Oops!”

You responded, sending Rafe into a fit of laughter. You swam for about 30 minutes before Rose and Ward called everybody for lunch below the cabin. 

“Y/N, come in. It’s time to eat.” 

Rafe called to you. You swam back to the boat, climbing up the ladder and Rafe dropped his hand down for you to grab, which you did, and he pulled you up. 

“You, you-uh look really pretty today.” 

He whispered. You couldn’t remember the last time you held his hand or felt the rough texture of the pads of his fingers wrapped around yours. It felt like ages. You almost fell for it again, but you quickly pulled your hand from his grasp; it felt like you had been scalded by a hot burner. 

“Don’t do that.” 

You bit out. 

“Do what?” 

He questioned puzzledly. 

“You know exactly what the fuck you’re doing!” 

You growled. 

“Just – just don’t, okay?” 

You replied, voice falling flat as the words cut through your core like a knife. You wanted to say yes, to say thank you, to say you too, but you knew how it ended. 

“Y/N, come join us!”

Ward spoke cheerily. 

“Just a sec, gonna sneak away to the bathroom.” 

You smiled in his direction and Rafe watched you intently, wondering how in the hell he was supposed to begin to fix anything when you so clearly wanted him dead. 

–

The next time you saw Rafe Cameron was at the boneyard, which you still loathed going to out of fear of running into JJ or any of the other Pogues. Things hadn’t ended well between the six of you, being that everyone knew about JJ and Kiara’s little Pogue affair and Sarah was the only one who had the decency to tell you the truth. You had cut ties with all of them. But, Sarah was still your friend and she begged you, for the second time, on this particular Friday to come out and enjoy yourself. So, you agreed. After an early morning shift at the island club, you spent time agonizing over what to wear in Sarah’s bedroom. Luckily, Rafe wasn’t home, and you decided on a pair of high waisted shorts and a crop top that went right above the waistline of your jean shorts. You adorned your neck with a rainbow colored beaded choker that Rafe had given you in the sixth grade, it was still your favorite necklace even though you knew you weren't his favorite girl anymore. 

You had mostly stayed away from the Boneyard since Rafe had relinquished his best friend duties, partly because of him, but mostly because the week after you and Rafe called it quits you got really really sick, had a seizure, and found out you had type one diabetes. You were angry with Rafe after that because you really, really needed your best friend. Had it not been for Topper and Sarah, you would’ve had to walk through it completely alone and you didn’t wish that on your worst enemy. 

As you and Sarah made your way on to the beach, she immediately locked eyes with John B and quickly disappeared. Fuck John B and his honey-colored eyes and the way they had a hold on her. You knew this was going to happen and you don’t know why you had convinced yourself any differently. You sighed heavily and made your way over to the Keg which was being run by Topper. 

“Hey, Top.”

You smiled kindly at him. 

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” 

He questioned, confusedly. He knew this hadn’t been your scene for a long time now. Though, that didn’t mean that he was unhappy to see you. 

“Sarah dragged me out of the house. Where are the other two stooges?” 

You questioned with a laugh.

“Around here somewhere, I think Rafe is upstairs with a girl or something.” 

He spoke without thinking and sighed when he watched your face fall. 

“Shit, Y/N. I’m sorry. I’m sure you don’t want to hear that shit.” 

He regretted his words immediately, knowing the hold Rafe had over you.

“It’s okay, Top. You don’t have to protect me from who he is.” 

He nodded slowly. 

“Just make sure I don’t leave him another embarrassing voicemail at the end of the night, okay?” 

You meant it as a joke, really. But, Topper did not think it was funny at all. 

“Wait, you’re not drinking are you?” 

His brow furrowed in confusion, knowing that any alcohol you ingested would drop your sugar levels significantly. 

���Don’t worry, dad. I’m only going to have one or two.” 

You replied, sarcasm on your tongue. 

“Please, no more than that. You remember last time?”

He asked bluntly. 

“Yeah, Top. I remember.” 

How could you forget?

You sighed for what felt like the fiftieth time and watched as Topper poured the beer into the red solo cup in his hand. The ‘last time’ Top was referring to was the night you had left Rafe the embarrassingly honest voicemail about how much you missed him. A voicemail he never returned. You had a seizure the following day, blowing off steam at the gold course with Topper and of course, Topper was there to pick up the pieces, like he always was. But, you wished it was Rafe. 

“Here, stay close by. Please.” 

He pleaded, handing you the cup of beer.

“I’ll keep you company until he shows back up.” 

You joked, sending him a wink and nudging his elbow with yours. After a few minutes of catching Top up on the highs and lows of your current life events, you caught Rafe out of the corner of your eye, making his way down to where you and Topper were with Kelce right behind him. 

“Well, well, well, Y/N, to what do we owe the pleasure?” 

Kelce spoke in a jokingly sexy voice. He had always flirted with you and it had always pissed Rafe off, though you never understood why. Kelce was harmless and revolting; way too much of a ladies man for your pleasure. 

“Yeah, what are you doing here?”

His tone came out gruff and mean, and your eyes went to your feet again, as you recognized the voice of your ex-boyfriend. You slowly turned your head to see Kiara with her arm wrapped around JJ’s bicep, a snarl ever present on her face. Rafe watched your eyes intently, the sadness and anger that lingered in them sent him into protective mode once again. 

“I-I don’t know.” 

You stammered. 

“What are you gonna drink yourself to death over him?” 

Kiara interjected, pointing to your drink, her voice sinister, as she mocked you and your health condition. 

Rafe looked on in confusion, wondering what it was that she was referring to - the break up or something more? It felt like he was missing a key piece of information. The Y/N that he knew didn’t have a problem downing any drinks. Topper was quick to jump in and diffuse the situation before your life’s biggest secret was revealed in front of the one person you didn’t want to know. 

“Okay, that’s enough.” 

Topper warned, a growl on his lips.

“No, it’s not. She has diabetes, I mean Jesus Christ, you guys gonna let her get killed just because she’s sad?” 

JJ asked incredulously. If you were a bystander, you might think he gave a shit about you, but you know he doesn’t. He’s telling Rafe that you’re sick. He’s doing it to be a cunt, because he knows you’ve kept it from him since finding out. 

“You’re a cunt, JJ.” 

You retorted, aggresively. 

“Woah – big words for a big ol’ girl, huh?” 

He piped up, hinting toward your weight which was one of your biggest insecurities since being diagnosed. 

“What the fuck did you just say?” 

Rafe spoke up, growling in JJ’s direction before grabbing the collar of his shirt pushing him into the sand. 

“What’s with defending her honor, Rafe? I mean twice in a week, you wouldn’t want people to get the wrong idea, now would you?” 

JJ’s words are slimy – you wonder how you ever loved him as he resembles lord voldemort to you now. 

“And what idea would that be, Maybank?” 

He spits out in feverish anger. 

“I don’t know – that you give a shit about her?” 

He questions sarcastically. 

“That’s not the wrong idea – it’s the truth.” 

Suddenly, you can’t take it anymore. You don’t want to hear it from either one of these assholes. So you run away – as fast as you can. 

When Rafe had made it back to the party, after beating JJ into oblivion – his favorite activity this week, his eyes frantically searching for your slender form, Topper informed him you went off by yourself toward the water. He made his way down to where he thought you’d be and there you were, sitting on a piece of driftwood, your knees tucked into your body and your arms wrapped around them. It was almost as if you were giving yourself a hug. Rafe smiled at the sight. 

“Y/N.”

He called out.

“Oh, what, Rafe?”

You replied, questioning in your voice, wondering what the hell he was doing even talking to you. 

“Why’d you leave the party?”

He asked, innocently, even though he already knew the answer because he knew you like the back of his hand. 

“I’m just embarrassed – why do you care so much all the sudden, huh?” 

You chuckled angrily, trying to keep it as civil as possible so Rafe wouldn’t make fun of you for it later with a group of guys on the golf course. 

“You don’t have to be embarrassed that Maybank is a dick. He didn’t deserve you anyway.”

“Yeah and what – you think you do? Cause from where I’m sitting, that’s not the case.” 

You growled. He was taken aback at first, but slowly began to nod his head with tears in his eyes. Although you weren’t friends anymore, you constantly analyzed his features, knowing what each grimace or grin meant. You hadn’t meant to make him sad, that wasn’t the point. 

“Do you not want me to talk to you?”

His voice grew quiet and feeble. 

“Rafe, I’ve wanted you to say anything to me for the last two years that wasn’t an insult or cutting me down. I mean we were best friends for god sakes and y-you just left me behind.” 

The tears clouded your vision, but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of letting them fall. Unbeknownst to you, Rafe was crying, hot tears leaked out of his eyes and fell onto his cheeks and before you could look up at him, he pulled you in. You fought the hug at first, but it just felt so good and warm and right. Eventually, you melted into his touch, resting your head on his chest. You hadn’t had one of these hugs in so long, it almost felt like it wasn’t real. These hugs, his hugs, could cure disease, they could put all your broken parts back together. Fuck JJ Maybank, this is Rafe Goddamn Cameron and you are so Goddamn thankful. 

“What’s that?”

Rafe motioned to the bulge sticking out from under your shirt as he pulled away from the hug the two of you shared. You looked up at his piercing blue eyes and decided enough was enough and this moment with him shouldn’t be wasted. It’s time to tell him the truth.

“It’s an insulin pump.” 

You mutter.

“Why do you need an insulin pump? You have diabetes, he wasn’t lying?”

Rafe looked confused, you had been friends for so long and he had never noticed it before. 

“I-I have diabetes, type 1. He wasn’t lying.” 

You reply.

“What? Since when?” 

He looked bewildered, like he didn’t know what to think or say.

“Since freshman year.” 

Your voice is small as you tell him your reality of the last two years. 

“Is that why you stopped showing up to parties?”

He asks, earnestly. You can't remember the last time you saw him look like that. 

“Uh, yeah, I mean you stopped talking to me and I didn’t have a reason to come around anymore. Plus, I can’t have a lot of alcohol. It just makes my sugar low, which makes me sick.” 

You replied, looking down at your feet, embarassed, fully expecting him to make a joke about it or say something awful. That was his prerogative. But he didn’t. He was concerned, scared, confused, even, as he asked you about your disability. 

“How did you find out?” 

He asks. 

“The week after you stopped talking to me I got really really sick and I had a seizure. Almost didn’t make it and that’s when they found it. Topper was the only person who knew.” 

You admitted. 

“Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t Topper tell me?!” 

He’s borderline hysteric as he realizes what he’s done, how he’d left you alone when you needed him the most. 

“I begged him not to. I knew if you found out you’d wanna talk and I wanted you to do that under your own pretenses not out of obligation.” 

Your words gut him and he knows he deserves far worse than this feels. 

“Can you let me back in? I mean – not now, or right away, but can you let me show i’ve changed, can you allow me to do that? Like old times.”

He questions, scared as he awaits your reply. 

“It’ll never be like old times again.” 

You reply bluntly. His Adam's apple bobs up and down and he knows you’re right, that you’re not saying this to hurt him – not you. You wouldn’t. You’re saying it because it’s the truth. 

“Understood.” 

He finally whispers. He rubs his palms against his knees, they are sweaty. It’s a sign – a tell before he goes into a full blown anxiety attack and you have to steer this conversation in another direction before he’s hyperventilating beside you – like old times. 

“Look, I’ll give this a shot – this friends bullshit, trial basis kind of vibes. If you prove me wrong and don’t end up being a piece of shit after all, we can extend our contract.” 

You reply with a half-witted smirk. 

“You mean that?” 

He asks hopefully. You almost yell at him again, but you don’t want to be cruel. 

“Sure. We can try. Meet me at our old spot tomorrow and we can try to figure this shit out. But, I’m gonna need some answers from you, Rafe. I mean it.” 

You reply sternly. He rises, helping you up to your feet again. 

“Can I hug you? O-Or walk you home, maybe? O-Or drive you, I have my truck – it’s here.” 

He struggles as he does his best to offer you support, that’s what friends are supposed to do. At Least that’s what he used to do for you. 

“Don’t push it okay? We’ll talk tomorrow.” 

You replied and for the first time in any length of time that he can remember, he’s left wanting more and not just more, he’s a guy that has plenty, plenty of everything. But, he’s lacking in you and the absence stings just as bad as the day he left. He hopes that you'll accept his reasoning, his need to become better for you. He hopes you won’t leave him in return. 

taglist:

@maybankslover @inthelibrarybtw @luvrcndy @silkylovey @yagirlwrites @obxbabygirl @rafeecameronsbitch

[isekai-times-two]

Ami's POV

Ami looked over at anne, chatting curiously with her Eevee. 'Ok, so we can understand pokemon, probably a boon.' She thought, looking around at the small clearing they stood in, 'also probably shouldn't tell people about it.... this looks like every forest ever, i have no idea where we are.' She sighed in defeat.

"We should head towards the sound of town, atleast then we would know where in the world we ended up. And we can check our bags for what provisions we actually have."

"Oh, and we can use the PC to check the level of our pokemon; maybe even register for the local league if theres time!" Anne looked so excited, even down right determined, at the prospect. "What pokemon did Arceus give you any way?" She asked, realizing i wasn't even holding the pokeball any more.

"Oh," i put my phone back in my pack and grabbed the white ball back out and tossed it, "i dunno."

Another Eevee came to formation; smaller and more round with fluff than Fenrir is, but a more fierce look to its eyes. I noticed then that both Eevee and Anne had the same shade of green eyes. I knew the form Arceus had taken had had different color eyes, so i assumed this must be by design.

"You're Crash aren't you." A statement more than a question, as we had already been told our pokemon would already know the names we would have given them. He puffed up his already fluffy chest in response,

"The one and only."

I grinned down at him, though he didn't look particularly fit for true battle like Fenrir did, i looked back at Anne, now recalling her pokemon and ready to go,

"You really wanna do the league?" I asked her. "Aren't we too old for that?"

She looked down right affronted,

"Adults do it, it should be fine. And besides, we're teenagers again, hows that too old!?"

I shrugged and opened my arms for my Eevee to jump up to be carried; he was small enough it would be no more burden than the pack i already had, so I didn't see any harm in it.

"Fair enough, i guess... i hope they have coordinator contests though... i don't really care about the leagues."

Anne glanced at me as we walked through the trees, "Really?"

"What?"

"I didn't think you were the type, thats all."

A fair assumption i suppose, given our previous life...

"Fair i guess, but a new life has new opportunities."

~*~*~*~

The PC showed us that our Eevee were both lvl 15 and 14, with Anne's Eevee being the stronger of the two, so that explained where our taken years of life went. They got put into levels of our pokemon. We also discovered that we had wallets and trainer ID cards already. Only a handful of currency though; apparently a universal one called credits, and placed on a card. Much more convenient than what i thought we were going to have to use. We had clothes, some food in the form of ration like cubes we would have to figure out, and some necessities.

It turned out we were in the Viridian forest. Which seemed fitting given the divine nature of our appearance.

Anne spoke with the nurse about league requirements and entry while I sat with Crash on a couch in the waiting area,

"Are you down with Contest work? I think i could come up with some cool combos for Eevee moves if you are."

There were hardly any people in the center for it being mid day when we arrived, so it was little harm in talking with him, it seemed other trainers casually spoke to their pokemon as well though it seemed only a basic understanding between them.

"I can do anything." He emphasized boastfully the 'anything' part and i chuckled at him, giving him head pats.

"Atta boy."

"If we make it to Pallet within the week, nurse Joy said i'll have enough time to register for a sponsorship in the Indigo league." Anne chirped with excitement as she came near, her Eevee trotting along at her heel. He looked so happy to just be there it was easy to see why the PC said it had a Jolly nature. Such a contrast to Crash's Hardy nature.

"Should we go now then?" A lazy response, but i had no animosity towards it; for a change i didn't dread the idea of walking. I no longer needed a cane and this body was able, so why not walk? The realization had come previously, and truly knowing why the Eevee had brought Anne to tears; the realization that we didn't regret our choice and were actually unable to. We couldn't feel anything other than fondness over the memories of our loved ones. Something we knew we should feel guilt over, but presumably Arceus had done something artificial to us to prevent it. For that I was grateful though.

"If we grind on the way," i commented, getting to my feet, "we can probably get these two to 20, and get some credits to get pokeballs n` stuff from the pokemart vending machines."

[ishouldgetatumbler]

Danny tore through the miles between him and home. His fingers were crushing into his palms, imagining they were flattened under the weight of collision with Vlad's face. He had been an idiot to let it get this far, and for some reason it all felt like a labirynth Vlad had made.

Something, green at the edges and white hot at center arced towards him. He twisted he ghost body around it, lower half phantasmal and wriggling.

He paused, trying to pick out who'd flung it at him, the miles and miles between Gotham and Amityville being caked with burgeoning green pine trees.

Ghosts view ectoplasm sort of like baby teeth; losing it is part of life, it's not remarkably useful once it's outside of you, and everyone's ectoblasts are a little different.

For instance, the ectoplasm tossed at Danny returns to sender.

Danny could feel the bruise from yesterday before any other indications of pain. Then it spread, oh god did it spread. The pain oozed across the small of his back, folding him like a formation of birds and ripping him out of the sky.

For an instant, Danny blacked out.

The ectoplasm cooled across his back. The sensation was almost nice, if strange. Like lotion spread over clothes. Belatedly, Danny realized it was cooling so quickly because of windchill. Even more belatedly, he realized that was because he was falling.

He stopped falling, a dozen feet from the tree tops now.

It was that simple for a ghost.

His opponent rose to face him.

"I am the boomerang ghost!"

"Seriously? What do you want? I don't have time for this!"

He should have acted sooner, and he should have spoken up during the lawsuit. Objected or something. It was stupid to give Vlad even an inch. What would he have said? 'That man is a half ghost!'? Been laughed out of the courtroom like his dad?

The ghost began to speak "Vlad has-"

Kah-Blamo!

Fist met teeth. Get them talking. They always loved to talk. His dad's advice for a fight is that an open mouth is a human's off button. This was a ghost, but advice isn't a perfect science.

Bang!

His mom had kept a stack of old Grey Ghost magazines in the loft. When he was fighting, Danny liked to imagine old comic sound effects when he smashed his fist into their stupid faces. It made it feel less... brutal.

Wham!

The boomerang ghost went sailing, caught on the pine tree tops and tangled in his ghostly apparal.

Danny pulled the thermos from his pocket and uncapped it, tearing boomerang ghost out of reality electrons first.

Danny took a moment to wipe the sweat from his brow, before continuing on his way.

As he flew, a box of rif-raf flung at him from the underbrush. Again, Danny dodged this by twisting his ghostly form around it, but this time he sped off, with the ghost who'd attacked him in hot persuit.

"I am the box ghost! Face me in corrigated cardbord combat!"

[justasimp1]

Brahms Heelshire x F! Reader.

Part 1 @kittygaga802 hopefully this satisfy you and isn't complete shit<33

Diary ; Living in Hell 2

Entry 5:

I haven't had much time to write. Brahms is always over my shoulder, questioning what has my attention. His curiosity is making us have moments again. Moments when I swear my heart stops and I can feel everything in my body shut down. I forget to breathe but I'm not left with hiccups. These moments make me want to do reckless things with the 100% hope that Brahms will reciprocate.

Your hand vigorously flipped through the worn pages. The rectangular smack of air, creating a cool draft. Your movements slowed as you realized the familiar looming and heavyweight shifted the wooden floor. You closed the journal with a light chuckle and a hand on your chest. "You scared me" You looked back into Brahms' eyes that were focused on the journal.

He reached for it and you pulled away. He was now looking at you. "Can I see?" His voice was possessed by a needy child. "No" Brahms struck back with the unnatural harsh words. "What is it?" "No" You swallowed the continuous formation of lumps building in your throat. Brahms's hands slipped last your upper thighs, his presence making you cower back into the cushion of the lounge.

It was a newly acquired move he made when he wanted to get his way. Heat crawled up your spine to your cheeks. The smell of his strawberry shortcake shampoo made your stomach curl. He was too close. His mask hovered over your lips. Brahms stared into your soul. For a moment his hands slip under your shirt but they slip out just as fast. Brahms lifted, adjusting his cardigan. "Fine."

Entry 6:

Ms. Heelshire sent a 'Happy Christmas Eve' postcard from Santorini in Greece. She wrote how much she missed Brahms and hated to miss this Christmas with him. She also sent along with a new grocery boy Xavier. "Malcolm wouldn't understand..." She wrote.

"No shit old hag. I don't think anyone would understand why a dead person who was claimed to be dead for over 20 years is fucking alive" Brahms flinched at the sudden use of curses. You pinched the bridge of your nose. The mountain of presents sat in the corridor. "Y'know I thought you would be smaller- and uh- younger" Xavier put the last box on the side of the stack. Xavier made a glance between you and Brahms as the silence increased.

"Any errands to run?" "Can you fix the kitchen?" You sighed, remembering the disaster of Thanksgiving. Lingering puffs of black smoke stained the ceiling. "Yeah, I'll have to buy some up-to-date appliances" You walked Xavier to his car while Brahms tried to secretly peek inside his presents. "Are you two dating?" You paused before continuing down the snow-covered steps. "No" Your tone came off more sad than intended. "That's a shame" You quirked your eyebrows. You've already dealt with one grocery boy having a crush on you. "Y'know since you like him" Xavier hummed. You fluttered your eyelashes, blinking away the falling white puff. "And also because you two are alone in such a big house" Xavier winked at you before laughing.

Entry 7:

It's Christmas... A couple of family members called and close friends. Some even sent presents. Brahms wanted to open all the presents in front of each other. He also insisted on going outside in the backyard. I think he's planning some devious, he's just being weird, or it's another temper tantrum.

"You're acting weird" You sighed, looking at Brahms. He's adjusted his figure, grabbing another box. The shiny purple wrapping was shredded and tossed to the side. Brahms lifted the 48 karat gold watch case. "Your turn" He looked at you. You awkwardly looked around the pile for something with your name on it. "Here!" Brahms pushed forward a box a little too eager. You took the box, flipping it around. "It doesn't say who's it from" You shrugged and decided it was probably a lazy friend. You unwrapped the gift. It was a plushie of your favorite animal and a bracelet.

"That's adorable" You chuckled at the soft animal before picking up the bracelet. You opened the locket dangling in the middle. Je T Aime written in bold gold letters. Brahms watched your face intensely. "Your turn" You closed the locket and put the bracelet to the side. Brahms kept staring at you, his eyes flickering to the gift you just sat down with. "Do you not like it?" "I do" You liked the plushie however the bracelet seemed expensive for a Christmas gift. "I wanna go outside" Brahms sighed. "It's too cold" "You went outside with Xavier" The response was fast and sharp. "If you're jealous just say that" You huffed. "I'm going outside" The words came out as a mutter as he stomped away.

Entry 8:

Good news! Xavier fixed the kitchen and brought over recipes. He also brought a large amount of strong alcohol that I may have gone overboard with. (Tequila and Hennessy isn't a good mix) . I don't remember anything but for some reason, I never have felt more relieved since being here.

You pour yourself another cup, watching the intense stream. The old paintings on the wall dripped down onto the tile. Every step sent ripples through the water. Brahms' heavy hands grabbed your hips. He took the wine bottle away from you. "That's enough! It's bedtime" "You sound like an adult" You had a good laugh at that. Brahms let out an unamused exhale before picking your body up. You frown at the sudden change of vision. Brahms sighed while placing you into the covers of your bed. You took a hard blink, allowing the alcohol to fade into the out part of your vision. Brahms kept pulling back the sheets over you after you kept kicking them off. He climbed over you to straddle your legs in place. You grabbed his collar, yanking him down to you. "Why do you make me feel like this?" Your head started to pound.

"You are intoxicated" Brahms' eyes narrowed through his mask. You took off his mask. Brahms quickly looked away. His face was like a face you see in dreams. Their features are there but your brain can't process them. You lifted your lips to his. Darkness flooded your vision and you move your lips. Brahms's hands twitched, cupping your face. For a moment, everything you wanted and couldn't say was spelled with your tongue. Brahms's body was lightly pressed against yours. Then that's when the fatigue caught up with the darkness. The pounding in your head made the darkness weigh on your eyelids. You pulled away from Brahms. "I'm tired. Goodnight" You yawned before closing your eyes again.

Entry 9:

He's avoiding me. I don't know why.

"Brahms..?" You muttered as another explosion of chemicals happened in the sky. "Are the fireworks scaring you?" You tried a light chuckle before returning to your pout. He wasn't hiding in the tub, under the table, his room, your room, the bathroom, living room, dining room, kitchen, hallway, laundry, wine cellar, sunroom, conservatory, or the guests' rooms.

You've only seen him three times the whole day and those were only a blur. You felt light-headed from yesterday's one-man party. You couldn't recall anything after the 2nd cup of the alcohol mixture you created. There could have been so many things you said wrong. You sighed, looking around. "Brahms can you please come out! For me" You pleaded while running a hand through your hair. There was a tiny creak in the walls before another firework shot colorful daggers. You paused, "Brahms you better not be hiding in the goddamn walls again". Frustration took over your steps. Your stomps echoed up the stairs. Rapid thumps shocked the ground as more chemical reactions. You go further down the hallway to an empty room, with a narrow closet. Luckily this closet has a giant hole (credit to Brahms) leading into the pathway behind the walls.

"It's dark in here! Brahms!" You squeezed past wooden pillars, coughing up the floating dust. There was some shuffling in the darkness in front of you before scampering away. You hurried your footsteps to catch up. But Brahms knew these dark forever tunnels better than you. "What the hell" You cursed as your leg got stopped by a block of concrete. Your body flew down onto the dusty floor. A sharp scrap ran up your leg. "Fucking Brahms" You whispered under your breath.

Master list

[queerautism]

Hi hey hello wassup look I'll get right to the point I'm singlet and I don't have much dog in this fight BUT realizing "fep" stood for "fixing endo posts" has kinda sent me off on a rage filled series of flashbacks, because that kind of blog format is inherently harassment. TERFs to it to trans people all the time, it was an incredibly popular tactic used by exclusionary bloggers against aspec people, and tbqh I did not spend my teens getting bullied in that way to sit by as an adult and let that kind people act like this person isn't doing anything wrong just because SHE is a teenager /at the moment/.

Not only that, but 17 is goddamn well old enough to know what you're doing is cruel and fucked up and that there are endless better things you could be spending your time on that are better for your own mental health.

And what the fuck is her excuse gonna be after she turns 18? I won't be surprised if a bunch of people that are currently up to bat for her suddenly toss her to the wolves because she isn't legally a minor anymore. Because that happens really fucking frequently in these in groups that act like "I'm a minor!" is equal parts a shield and a cudgel.

Like. Fucks sake this shit reminds me of when anti-SJ bloggers would go around screenshotting peoples blogs and blog descriptions to post and mock to their followers, calling it their "blog of the week," which always resulted in the screenshotted blog getting flooded with hate. Spending my teens on the internet in queer, neurodivergent, and otherkin/alterhuman spaces, resulted in me seeing this specific type of harassment /a lot/. And it made me a cunt, because that was the only way to get people to fuck off.

When you open the door to ruthless internet mockery even a little, the floodgates open and are very very hard to get shut once more.

You are always doing more harm than good by running troll accounts like that. You're perpetuating a toxic cycle of bullying by refusing to live and let live. You are not the champion of the DID community. No one fucking is! No one is the ultimate authority on any mental health configuration! You're not going to end the abliesm and discrimination of the psychiatric industry by being a dick to people you don't even know on the internet.

Go make an art blog or an aesthetic posting blog or SOMETHING constructive to fill your time with rather than repeatedly subjecting others //and yourself// to needless stress and even trauma from pointless arguments.

Sorry for leaving paragraphs in your inbox Rouke you can delete this or w/e if I'm out of line at all I just got a bit Heated when those memories hit.

Yeah, i absolutely agree. That's part of my issue, I've seen if A Lot. And i think it's ridiculous that my critiquing of her posts is supposedly harassment, but the entire concept of her blog isnt? It's ridiculous

[entishramblings]

You Have Pretty Hair [Legolas X Reader]

A.N: so this one shot has some pieces from my fanfic (link in description) but I altered it for a legolas x reader formate cuz I figured you all would be interested because on wattpad so many users said they loved it! So if you recognize it....that’s why!!!

Request: none

Pairing: Legolas X Reader

Summary: (Y/N) is traveling with the fellowship and they end up drinking one night and Legolas has to take care of (Y/N)

Word Count: 2,270

Warnings: none

(gif not mine)

MASTERLIST

(Y/N), a young female ranger of the Dunedain and close friend of Aragorn’s, grinned when she saw a worn down sign that read: The White Lion Inn. She had chosen to accompany the fellowship on the quest to destroy the one ring, for her sword skills and healing abilities would provide useful. She had trained under Isildur’s heir for many years and was well aquatinted with the lays of the lands.

The weary members of the fellowship trudged through the door hoping for a comfortable bed, hot meal, and some quality ale. When they entered, the diverse group was immediately greeted by the sound of drunk humans and off-pitch tavern songs. Many uncertain eyes wandered across them for they had just demolished a pack of orcs so they were quite a sight to see. (Y/N) had a bloody head wound and was splashed with dark orc blood; Boromir, Aragorn, and Gimli had a handful of superficial cuts whereas Legolas was completely unscathed. Not to mention they were accompanied by a wizard and four hobbits. An interesting group indeed.

The wooden walls of the tavern were dimly lit by candles and lanterns while the room was filled with intoxicated, dirt covered travelers—not the most appealing of types. Furthermore, the stale air smelled of ale and three days old piss. But alas, it was better than the bone chilling coldness of outside and the threat of Sauron’s spies.

Gandalf suggested they get cleaned up before diving into drinking, but (Y/N) had other ideas.

She smirked at the sight before her. She loved taverns and she loved drinking. She hadn't had any alcohol since her arrival at Rivendell so she was quite deprived from the ensnaring numb sensation it provided.

The female Ranger immediately walked up to the barkeep and tossed a coin onto the counter, "One pint of the good stuff."

The bar tender glanced at the blood covered woman and raised his eyebrows, but he did not question anything for he often saw strange folk with strange business in this part of town. He plucked a glass from the shelves behind him and generously poured a tall tankard with bitter ale. He slid it across the counter towards her and she offered a quick thanks.

......

It was not long until most of the fellowship had started drinking. Gandalf, Sam, and Frodo had retired early for they were exhausted and had no interest in getting drunk. Merry, Pippin, and Gimli however had started a drinking contest while the two human men observed with laughter. Legolas only had two pints, which did absolutely nothing for him. (Y/N) on the other hand was on her 6th? 7th? She had lost track a long time ago and was completely utterly waisted.

Currently, the female ranger was on the top of the table dancing and laughing with the two hobbits (who were slightly less drunk). The three beings’ arms were locked and they were swinging around and around giggling uncontrollably. Merry and Pippin sung tavern songs terribly while accidentally kicking the bowls of peanuts to the floor with their large hairy feet. It was quite a sight, amusing to all onlookers.

Pippin nodded in Legolas's direction. The elf was sitting at the bar talking to the barkeep for he was the quiet type and preferred calm company.

"(Y/N), what do you think of Legolas?"

She stumbled and let out a loud belch before slurring out, "He's ssuper talll."

Pippin grinned, "I agree with you there as I am quite short as well! But he’s considered average if you compare him to Strider and Boromir.”

A confused look crossed the ranger's face for a moment before she giggled again.

“Oh....right....”

She then called out to Boromir sitting below her, “PASS ME ANOTHER PINT!"

The Gondorian immediately handed her another and she took a big swig from it.

With his elf hearing, Legolas listened in on the conversion. He couldn't help but smirk at the drunken stupidity of (Y/N). He observed that she had always been a carefree spirit and it seemed that alcohol brought that aspect out further. However, as soon as he heard her call for another pint he knew he needed to interfear. She was incredibly intoxicated and adding another drink to that would not be smart. Legolas left his stool and briskly walked towards the table of his friends.

(Y/N)’s grin widened when she saw the elven prince, "Legolas!"

Merry then insisted that he join their dancing and (Y/N) released another giggle, but the moment was interrupted as the female Ranger lost her footing and fell forward—off the table. She felt her body smack against something firm that smelled of pine and honey. Quite strange for something that smelled so good to be in this less than tasteful place. She squinted in puzzlement as the world around her distorted; it was upsidedown, twisted, warped.

What was going on?

Her gaze landed on bright blue eyes that stared down at her with uncertainty. That’s when the realization hit her. She was in Legolas’s arms. She frowned.....and her tunic was soaked wet? The alcohol must have spilled out of the tankard that she had been holding. She lazily examined Legolas and a giggle escaped her lips when she realized he was also covered in the ale.

(Y/N) continued to marveled at the blonde elf who was evaluated her drunken state. She laughed again. "You have muscly arms," she said with a slur.

Legolas sighed and made eye contact with Aragorn. The uncrowned king nodded, knowing exactly what Legolas was asking. They both silently agreed that (Y/N) had had enough.

“All right," the elf said as he put her down, "You're done." The last part of his sentence sounded stern, commanding, and showed that he was slightly pissed off—not that the drunk ranger could pick up on that.

Legolas didn't understand how she got so careless to drink this much while they were on a very important mission. Quite frankly, he was surprised Aragon had let it get this far as he had assumed the figure of older brother long ago; but alas, (Y/N) was a grown woman who was perfectly capable of making her own decisions.

The Elven Prince took the half filled pint from her hand and passed it to Boromir. Legolas then grabbed her arm and slightly tugged her in the opposite direction, but she reached out and snatched the unfinished pint from the Gondorian. She quickly took another big gulp before Legolas pulled the tankard from her hand once again. He firmly set it down on the table and shot Borimir a look.

The elf then pulled the grumbling ranger by her arm, more forcefully this time. He lead her to the barkeep and held her upright, "One room key please,"

The man looked at the state of the drunk woman and chuckled, "Good luck with that one."

He passed the elven prince the key and Legolas tugged (Y/N) to the crooked wooden stairs. He motioned for her to go up. She glanced at the step and let out another giddy laugh before lifting her leg. She was able to climb up a couple steps before falling back against Legolas chest. He easily caught her and held her waist until she regained some balance. She again lifted her foot but immediately stumbled. Legolas shook his head in frustration, bent down slightly, and scooped her up bridal style. He began to assend the stairs as she whined to go back for another pint. The elf’s ears turned light pink as he heard his friends snickering at the current situation he was in. He chose to ignore it; someone had to take care of her.

Legolas opened the door to the small room and sat (Y/N) down on the bed, her legs dangling off the side. He poured some water from a pitcher onto a towel and turned back to the drunk woman. He gently wiped her face with it, making sure to erase the dirt and dried blood from the outdoor adventure.

Legolas carefully began to clean the small wound on her head. He wished she would have done so earlier for an injury was not to be left untended; but alas, when she made a decision she stuck by it.

He watched as (Y/N)’s eyebrows furrowed and she tried to pull away from the cloth. "Cold, cold, cold," she grumbled like a child.

Legolas sighed, "(Y/N), don't make this difficult."

She groaned once more before letting out another giggle. The blonde elf raised his eyebrows in question.

"You," She slurred, "have prettyyy hair.”

She reached her hand out and grasped a handful of his blonde locks, “Can youu braid mine like that some day!?”

He chuckled, “Maybe.”

Legolas reached upward and carefully untangled her fingers from his hair for he was fearful that, in her drunk state, she would end up getting them stuck in it.

The Prince had dealt with a lot of intoxicated elves in his lifetime, but (Y/N)’s behavior was so innocent and seemed to be even more amusing. Humans—always an interesting species. He still was angry at her lack of self control when it came to drinking, but it was hard not to smile at her intoxicated actions and words.

The blue eyed elf's hands made their way to her hair. He gently pulled out the tie from the messily twisted bun, allowing her locks to cascade down her shoulders.

"(Y/N)," Legolas started.

She let out another giddy laugh.

Legolas sighed, "What is it now?"

"I thinks I had too many alcohols."

Legolas smirked at her improper grammar, "Yes, indeed you did."

She let out yet another giggle.

"(Y/N), your tunic is wet with ale and orc blood. Do you wish me to find a servant to assist you?"

She closed her eyes and shook her head while grasping onto his sleeve, "Youu just help me."

Legolas lips parted as he felt a blush creep up his neck and upon his ears. He cleared his throat, "(Y/N), I'm not su—"

The woman interrupted him, "You." She paused in attempt to gather her drunk words together, "I trustt you over some random strangeeer."

Legolas let out a nervous exhale but nodded.

He ruffled through her bag until he came across an extra black tunic. He grasped the soft fabric in his calloused hands and stood in front of her.

"Are you wearing anything under this?"

She nodded. Her words slurring as she spoke, "MHhmm, uunderrrgarments to coverr my brea—"

He interrupted her awkwardly, "(Y/N), I know how basic anatomy and clothing work."

Legolas gently took hold of the bottom of her dirty tunic and begun to pull it up and over her head, careful not to get any orc blood on her skin. He could feel his cheeks heating even more as her shirt rose; he was just grateful she was too intoxicated to notice. He gently untangled her arms from the disgusting fabric and removed it completely.

She sat on the bed with eyes closed as she begun to sway slightly. The blonde elf's gaze trailed down her body cautiously, taking in her appearance. Her undergarment encased her chest, covering what needed to be. However, it clearly accentuated the curves of her breasts and the shape of her torso. He watched as her skin and toned muscles rippled ever so slightly with small movements. She was utterly beautiful, despite her terribly drunken state. Legolas swallowed dryly. He felt the desire to touch her soft skin and inch his hands over her form crept into his mind; but he did not want that while she was intoxicated. Her well-being was his top priority. Besides, they were not courting. He doubted she even knew of his affections.

Legolas pulled the new, clean tunic over her head and assisted her in getting her arms through. He felt slightly relieved that it was over for the situation had been quite compromising.

If anyone had walked in......

If Aragorn had walked in.....

The elf’s mind wandered slightly at the thought of his friend. Strider made no move to assist Legolas with the intoxicated young woman that he had trained. It was almost as if he had let the elf take care of her on purpose.

Legolas blushed.

That cheeky bastard.

Aragorn had to have done that on purpose. Legolas remembered all the times Strider had paired him and the female Ranger to collect firewood and watch for Sauron’s enemies. The man’s twinkling eyes and mischievous looks......he definitely did this on purpose.

Legolas sighed once again before tuning back the (Y/N). He quickly pulled off her boots and then pulled back her covers. He then helped her climb into the soft comfort of the feathery bed. The Elven Prince sat on the edge of the mattress and gently ran his hand through her hair to coax her to sleep; and there he stayed watching over her.

.......

The female ranger walked down the stairs to the tavern. She was rubbing her temples and groaning with every step. Her head pounded like drums, the light blinded like white fire, and everything was just too damn loud.

She saw that most of the fellowship was all sitting around a table across the room, many of them with the same problem as her.

Legolas unexpectantly appearing near her and chuckled when she walked past him, "feeling better?"

She sent him a death glare and grumbled in response. She plopped down on the bench across from Merry and Pippin and next to Boromir.

The Gondorian nudged the female ranger, "Do you have any memory of last night?"

She groaned, "Why? What happened?"

At that moment Aragorn slid onto the bench next to (Y/N) with a big grin on his face. He spoke with a tone filled of taunting amusement, "Legolas took care of your drunk ass!”

(Y/N) groaned at that statement and put her head on the table.

Of fucking course.

[retphienix]

It's been 6 years :)

On March 30th, 2015 I decided I wanted a gaming side blog. (so we're early, but shush, it's the month for me)

I didn't know what I'd use it for exactly, but I had ideas- something I always have even if most of them only get as far as daydreamin' or writing out before closing them :P

For proof on the lack of direction the blog initially had- the March 30th date is the anniversary of my first post, an in-depth and lengthy review of Dragon Warrior Monsters for the GBC.

If you know the blog then you know "Extremely long and in-depth reviews" aren't the norm around here. As a matter of fact, that first post is the ONLY one I've done!

The closest I've come to ever repeating that would be the (word of the day) Directionless video I put out on Hades to get a grip on the concept of making videos, but that wasn't nearly as much of a 'review' as that first post is.

Tangent, definitely planning on trying my hand at videos some more for the foreseeable future. Probably not gonna use the tagline Full Impressions that I tossed as a whim for the Hades video but yeah- I'm excited to try my hand at a few videos :) tangent over.

It didn't take me long to come up with what I'd like to do for the blog though :)

A few months later I liveblogged a challenge run of FFT where I used only Ramza- a solo run. - Which maybe only happened because I tried a nuzlocke run a year prior on my main account-

(Nuzlocke | FFT challenge run)

Thanks to that haphazard liveblog experiment I started to realize a couple things which became the primary motivators behind this blog.

1) I LOVE sharing experiences. No brainer, I'm sure, but being able to share my experiences, and compare them with others' experiences, and just that mutual sharing is uplifting and feels good to do.

2) Liveblogging is an EXCEPTIONAL motivator to buckle down and play all those games I said I'd play (cue everyone laughing because I'm still way behind and have an immeasurable backlog).

But I mean that, on both respects. I have plenty of motivators toward the blog today, but if I were to be concise it's pretty much "It's easier to beat games if I liveblog them- otherwise I get distracted and play other games" and "I love sharing experiences and thoughts with people about my favorite thing- games."

Since 2015 I've tackled around 70 games as full playthroughs, and an untold ton as one offs or just to ramble about for a bit.

I've had a lot of highlights over the years, and I don't talk much about it as an overall experience so I thought for the anniversary I'd try to do just that. Not everything- I can't say I have photographic memory that would bring all of it up without prompting after all :P But whatever comes to mind as I browse some of my old stuff- as well as some thoughts on what I'd like to see in the future.

It's gonna be a bit self-centric I assume as I type this preamble to it, so let me say outright that this blog wouldn't be half of what it is without all the people who've given it the time of day over the years.

From recommending games they love or appreciate, to comparing thoughts, to offering kind words for analysis I've done over the years, to pointing out when I'm dumb and misread a situation :P- to, yes, even the people who decided "Fuck this guy's ramble" and deleted my captions before reblogging my gifs way back during Hamtaro (Of COURSE I remember that! It's amusing lol).

This is better because of others, because of the interactions and the people I've gotten the chance to chat with or befriend. It's just a liveblog more or less, my own little bit of fun I toss out for myself if for anyone- so seeing others enjoy this or that from the work I put into sharing my experiences or thoughts is always a joy in itself :)

Anyway, onto selfishly rambling about some tidbits of the past :)

Also sorry but no, opted to not shove a ton of photos in, it does have a handful of links to old posts though :P

This'll be disorganized as heck as I'll add to it over time before I feel it's worth posting (or the tumblr post editor becomes a hassle and more or less forces me to).

First~

FFT Solo Ramza Challenge: Considering it was roughly the first thing this blog has done, it's also something that's stuck in my head a lot more clearly than most of the other stuff I've done to be honest lol.

In truth, this is partially because FFT is my favorite game, bar none. But it's also because the whole experience was pretty new to me. Prior to it I had really only done one self-imposed-challenge that wasn't requested by the game in some manner and that was a nuzlocke run of Blue version.

So adding a challenge to my favorite game was a fantastic experience!

Notes I just wanted to say today about that run: If anyone enjoys FFT I honestly recommend giving it a shot for the unique story it lends itself to. I do recommend skipping the rules until after the second battle but that's up to YOU to decide.

My first post on the subject is me complaining about spending 4 hours grinding out the second fight and, despite hyperbole being my natural state, that was NOT hyperbole.

It DID take 60~ restarts to beat. It DID take 4 hours. The reason is that that 2nd battle is RNG as HECK, you HAVE to have Delita do some meaningful actions, you HAVE to have the enemies miss and make poor plays, you damn near HAVE to crit a few instances to save yourself from taking too much damage.

It's a numbers game to the extreme, so I wouldn't fault anyone for 'cheating' and skipping the 2nd fight for the ruleset lol.

The memory that stands out the most for that run is actually isolated in a post in which Ramza (Purrick in this run) talks like a total badass as just ONE DUDE running into a room full of enemies. I just think on that as a great encapsulated view of what it was like. The run started off face grindingly difficult, but because FFT is a game that offers so much freedom to the player it was extremely easy to 'break' the game into making Purrick overpowered as hell.

That's something I love about some tactical RPGs, I love having the ability to play smart so that I can play stupid later on, and breaking the game into making him one shot god is certainly a good payoff for playing smart early on :P

RetQuick: I miss RetQuick, it was primarily a short experiment I did in 2015 where I'd play a game for a short span of time (REALLY short, like 10-20 minutes) and record that for the purpose of making gifs and saying a short piece on what I thought.

It's one of those formats where the purpose was pretty shallow- but had a reason. I wanted to try making some gifs with some tools that existed online, so I made an excuse to do just that.

I also wanted to play a TON of games, usually through emulation on my sister's PSP, and this let me do that.

These two minor goals came together and so I spent a while making RetQuicks which were honestly more fun to make than they had any right to be. I mean the gifs were tedious but the playing? The thought sharing? The end product ocassionally having more appeal than just a photoset? It was fun.

I'm thinking whenever I have trouble picking a game for the blog I'll revisit the format... sorta.

I already reused it for a short stint to show clips I had no plan on expanding into a playthrough, but that died as well as it was too similar to Tidbits posts (another tag I no longer really use).

My thought is to rebrand retquick as something of a tryout for what game comes next. Play a handful of my backlog games for an hour or so each and say some thoughts before saying which one I'll continue as the main game for that period of time.

Old Tag Stuff: One of those things that only sticks to me since I made the decisions but it's always funny for me to look back on my old posts because I was apprehensive as hell toward making my posts visible. The reason my early playthroughs on the My-Tags page are variants of Ret instead of just "The name of the game so people can find this post" is because I felt like a liveblog would just spam the tag to hell-

Something I don't remotely feel bad for doing anymore.

So I avoided getting any sort of spotlight for quite a while on the blog for little reason.

Why Retphienix?: This is just a dumb thought I wanted to share and I'm sure I've said before.

It stands for retro!

Yeah!

Ain't that dumb and also not a real shorthand? lol

I think I have some sort of deer in headlights anxiety towards naming things, I mean do you think I think Full Impressions is a good summation for a video? I don't. But perhaps that's overshadowed by the other inexperiences and anxiety driven decisions that had- doesn't matter.

Retphienix is Retphienix because I sat there in 2015 and thought "Well... what do I name an alt account?"

My main is Redphienix, which yes, is ALSO a terrible name AND is misspelled. But it's that because of sentimental reasons. As a kid I misspelled Redphoenix when making my gamertag (I knew how to spell Phoenix back then as well, I was too excited about xbox live and misspelled it) and it's become something of a sentimental misspelling.

So I wanted to make a mix on that for my game blog, but I had no idea what. In the end I thought "RetroPhienix? I don't know. Retphienix is closer to Redphienix. I'll do that" and so it was done.

And just like how Redphienix is both bad and misspelled but exists because of sentimental reasons- Retphienix has acquired the same 'flavor' in my eye lol.

Aspirations for the blog: I have no immediate ramp up plans or road map or whatever, and in truth I'll be happy if the blog stays just as it is forever- up until tumblr ends- I cry over lost posts- and I reopen it on another platform.

But I do have blurry half-considered daydreams that I'd like to see happen for the blog through some hard work or shifts on my part.

One is something I'm already doing kinda, hence my embarrassing means of bringing it up a lot lately. Videos- I want those. I wanna make some looks back on series people don't talk about that I enjoy, I want to make videos sharing my thoughts on games I beat for the blog (like what full impressions kinda was, but I don't think they'll have a unified name from here on out). Maybe retrospectives, but mostly when I think of making a video tied to retphienix or me in general it's me looking at a game that said something to me, and saying it louder with my own interpretations on it.

You know the kind, videos where they talk about a video game but not the whole thing- just a singular message they really heard loud and clear from it intentionally or not. I dig those and I know I end a lot of games having plenty to say that could be directed into such a format.

We'll see.

And I'm along for the ride on that one as well- currently I'm keeping my eyes on whatever is directly next, which happens to be "I plan on playing Omori, if it clicks as something to talk about I would like to take a shot at that in a video too!"

The other is that I'd like to build a small community. Wouldn't know the first thing on doing that in a modern sense, but just a little online friend group to chat with and play games together. Something that could open up multiplayer and coop experiences being better shared on the blog and would just in general expand my gaming to what it used to be back on the 360 when I had a large group to play with.

Since the 360 era ended I've pretty much closed off- stopped playing competitive games due to lack of interest- and slowed down to playing all games either solo, with randoms (and no mic usually), or with my cousin. It's a rare instance when I play with some good people like @gamesception or another friend of mine, John.

When I diverted from playing competitive games nonstop toward other genres I didn't intend to also cut out all my online gaming buds, it just kinda happened, and I never really put any effort into rectifying that.

So more or less I'd like to one day sit down and work on a discord server, and then buck up and put the leg work in to make some gamin' buds again, but that's such a vague concept anymore.

Sounds all sad and what not but it's more ambivalent, I made decisions that

changed how gaming worked for me after the 360 and this is just where it landed for better and worse- I'd just like to see if I can make it a little better :P

General things I think when I think retphienix: Honestly? I think of how much fun I've had over the years and how thankful I am to have had an outlet that encouraged me to explore more of the medium.

I REALLY love games. I went to college for games, I've written LEAGUES about games, I've played countless games, my childhood was games, my adult life is games- games games games yada yada yada.

So when I think of retphienix I think of how without it I probably wouldn't have explored a lot of the corners of gaming that I have.

I genuinely, and I mean this, might not have sat down and beaten FF7 for myself and would have considered the amount I played as a kid to be enough.

I might not have played Chrono Trigger yet, and I KNOW I wouldn't have played Chrono Cross, and I'm happy as hell to have played both of those. CT was a mind blowing moment for me that showed me just how good an RPG can be, and CC gave me miles to think of in terms of innovating an RPG and how beholden to the narrative a sequel should be (I don't feel CC should have been chrono at all lol).

I DEFINITELY wouldn't have given New Vegas another chance. And I know I'm a sourpuss on NV, I've been that way since I maxed my achievements on the 360 for it, but replaying it really did reveal to me how exceedingly negative I was being.

My memories had become "It's brown and a boring location >:(" and "The factions all suck and it doesn't do anything with the idea of bad factions >:(" and became "It's... a little brown guys, not a big fan of the area" and "They didn't do enough with exploring the gray factions" while adding "Wait. This is pretty damn fun. And 90% of the additions are stellar. And I forgot about Dead Money, my favorite dlc in any game ever with a story that tears at my heart every time I think of it, NV good actually?"

Faxanadu would have remained a cool game I saw on SSFF and not a game I played to the end and fell in love with the aesthetic feel it has!

Also that's a game I cheated like crazy on lol, I would do it again! Save state scumming games meant to be rudely difficult is only fair :P

I probably would have never sat down to play through Windwaker which was such a positive and uplifting experience that I now get the most relaxed and warm feeling in my heart when I see those blue waves.

There's so many experiences I would have left on the table in favor of like... putting more hours into a live service title or something.

Maybe, and no offense to my cousin or anyone else playing it, but maybe I'd be no-lifing World of Warcraft nonstop just stagnating my interest toward the skinner box mechanics of an MMO?

Some offense, actually but lightheartedly lol.

But beyond the entire games I've played for the blog, when I think retphienix I picture all the time making gifs, all those games I played on the PSP for short stints, buying a retron 5 to add to what I could explore and being stoked when they shipped a freebie box of old controllers to go with it, getting angry at the retron for being a Piece Of Shit lol, crying at the end of damn near every game with an emotional story because I'm a big emotional mess of a person who finds investing and crying at a story way too easy thanks to empathy pulls, oh!-

Getting excited whenever I found that I had a "*controversial*" opinion that no one would care about lol. Like the one that comes to mind is that I thoroughly believe that Dragon Ball Z II: Gekishin Freeza!! for the NES is WAY better than the fandom recognized and appreciated sequel/remake Dragon Ball Z: Legend of the Super Saiyan!

How many people do you hear talking about either game, let alone saying the NES game that is roughly half of the SNES remake is the better one :P But I stand by that! The SNES one is a remake of DBZ1 and 2 for the NES but it loses all the charm and some of the fun of the NES ones by being a lackluster SNES game!

lol

I admitted wholeheartedly that this post would be a lit-

little directionless (gotta love the new tumblr poster making me break sentences like that), but to sum things up.

It's been 6 years. It's been an untold amount of work to be honest- liveblogging a game, at least for me, hasn't been the easiest thing. It's a lot of thinking out my thoughts (heh), it's a lot of learning tools to make the capturing process possible, it's a lot of experimenting, it's a lot of writing and editing, and, well, sometimes it's just tough.

I mean I went to school for coding, not video editing, not writing, not image processing, not this or that- but this hobby has introduced a lot of things even if only at a VERY base level (I admit fully to using online alternatives to make gifs for instance).

I learned a lot about, well, a lot of things in order to use this blog to learn more about games- and all that work has become part of why I've loved all 6 years of this blog.

6 years of gaming, work, and you all- and it's been worth the investment :) Here's to many more and all of you whether you stumble upon this post or not- literally anyone who's interacted in these 6 years, thank you, and anyone who hasn't I offer you well wishes as well.

<3