#sometimes i just have to Say Shit because brain is zooming

[schrijverr]

It Just Hits Different When It’s Batman

5 times a League member heard Batman use slang + 1 time they knew where the fuck he got it from.

This fic is based off this post by @wednesday-if-it-was-tuesday bc it was just too good! Hope you don't mind :D

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: none

~~~~~

1. Flash

Barry is pretty sure he has to get his hearing checked as he speeds through a city, trying to find a series of bombs, courtesy of a new alliance of villains. He and Batman are on bomb duty, thus sharing a private com line as to not distract the others or be distracted as they coordinate.

However, Barry is very much distracted by his own partner in this whole mess, because unless he’s gotten a few too many hits to the head in recent years, he’s pretty sure Batman just reported: “The bombs look like yassified thermos flasks.”

“What?” Barry chokes, nearly tripping over his own feet as he does.

Batman doesn’t seem to notice, instead explaining the bomb, not his wording: “The casing looks to be made from plastic, likely to escape Superman’s notice. Start checking water pipes, I found this one near a toilet. I’ll report again once I figure out how to disarm it.”

Okay, questing his sanity later, finding bombs, now.

So he zooms off again, having to agree with the fact that the bomb does look like a yassified thermos flask. He wonders if he can use that in his report or if Batman will scold him for language. He has worked with the man for long enough that he knows Batman isn’t above hypocrisy.

Then he wonders again if he even heard it right. In the heat of battle, the brain sometimes does weird things, especially when someone thinks at the speed of light. Or faster.

He’ll put it out of his mind for now, maybe tell Hal about it just so he’ll have someone to share the bizarre experience with.

Clark probably has a thesaurus, he should probably also find a synonym for yassified. Does a thesaurus have slang too?

2. Green Lantern

It’s true that Barry had told him about Spooky saying yassified in that one battle, but Hal hadn’t truly believed that Bats was capable of something like that. I mean, look at him. The guy might be a weirdo who dresses up as a Bat, but he’s not a weirdo who says shit like yassified.

However, at the moment it is starting to look more and more likely. Fuck, Barry is gonna give him so much crap for not believing him.

The moment in question is Batman working with him on the stealth mission. It’s one for the Green Lantern Corps, so Batman is doing him a favor. Though Hal is starting to wish that he hadn’t done him that favor, because Batman has just said: “It looks like Luthor is being thristy for Superman again. For someone who hates the guy, he sure wants his attention a lot. That’s Kryptonian honing device.”

Hal doesn’t react, still thinking about the fact that he’s just heard Luthor, thirsty and Superman in one sentence. In Batman’s voice no less.

“What?” he says.

“A Kryptonian honing device,” Batman repeats, sounding as if he thinks Hal is stupid, not uncommon. “So he can hone in on Superman, find him. Something we need to do something about.”

Hal decides to take the smart way out and lets the whole thing drop in favor of focusing on the mission. He’s not just telling Barry, but Ollie about this as well.

3. Cyborg

Being in the Justice League isn’t much different than being on the Teen Titans. Like right now, being in a building that could explode at any moment unless he hacks into the system and stops that from happening.

Ah, good old life-threatening pressure.

Batman is fighting some of the goons in the background. They’re on their own here, with the others fighting through an army outside to get to them. But it’s mostly up to them. Batman yells: “Cyborg, status.”

“I’m getting through, but something is bugging me about this whole thing,” Victor calls back. “I think there is someone I’m missing that will allow me to crack this.”

There are a few grunts in the background as Batman fights on, while Victor starts to scan through everyone who worked for the organization, trying to find the missing link.

He is interrupted by Batman, who says: “I took a tour here once. There was an intern, Kyle Paulson, he was kind of sus. Look him up.”

For a second, Victor is thrown by the sus in that sentence, but he quickly focuses back on what’s important. Indeed finding Kyle to be the missing link that gets him to disarm the bomb. While Batman is taking out the last of the bad guys.

In fact, the whole thing slips his mind until he’s writing his mission report, going through the footage to get accurate information in there. Then he pauses again, before dismissing it. Those who trained under Batman are always prepared, maybe it’s not slang but shorthand to be useful in the moment. Or he’s trying to include him, sweet, though unnecessary.

Victor puts it out of his mind.

4. Green Arrow

Ollie doesn’t believe Barry or Hal for a second. Like, really? Batman using slang that the sidekicks are using?

Sure, Nightwing sometimes uses some here and there, but Red Robin is always very professional and Robin is closer to a Shakespearean actor than a TikTok teen. There isn’t anyone else he could have gotten it from and it doesn’t make sense with his whole ‘I am the Night’-persona.

Victor suggested it was to make the newbies more comfortable when he overheard them talking, but that’s even more ridiculous in Ollie’s opinion.

So, he’s not at all in the slightest prepared for Batman’s reaction when he shows him the new arrows he developed. Because Batman’s reaction is: “Hm, serves cunt.”

“Excuse me, what?” Ollie says, his eyes nearly bulging out of his skull.

Batman just stares at him, then in a confused sort of voice goes: “You know, it slays? It’s, you know, good? Positive.”

“Huh, what? No, I- I know what that means. How the fuck do you know?” Ollie splutters.

“I’m Batman,” is all he says. Then he walks away and leaves Ollie to stand there, still frozen in time, because what the hell was that? Batman can’t just do that, can he? That’s illegal. How does he even know that?

What Ollie doesn’t know, is that this was a calculated move. Bruce had overheard the three talking as well and decided to have a little fun. All the times before, it just slipped out in the heat of battle, but this one was purposeful.

Bruce knows Ollie would know what it meant, because billionaires Bruce Wayne and Oliver Queen have done TikTok trends in the past and try to keep up to date, despite their age. Not that Ollie knows it’s him under there.

And last gala, he left Bruce for the wolves – Vicky Vale – so now Bruce is dealing psychological damage to him as petty revenge.

5. Superman (and Practically the Entire League)

They’re in a meeting with most of the Justice League members that are present on earth at the moment. It’s not often they hold such meetings, since they are a little overwhelming and tend to drag on more than be productive.

However, Clark thinks it’s important to ensure there are avenues through which ever member can state their piece and be heard. So, here they are again.

Booster Gold is complaining about always being on the sidelines and never in the heat of the action, even though he’s a great hero. He’s claiming that there is a bias against younger heroes, despite the fact that the ‘old guard’ will have to give it up eventually.

Apparently, Batman has had enough, because he gets up and snaps: “We don’t have bias based on age, we have one based off skill. Maybe if you stopped abandoning your post and being someone reliable, you might get put out in the field more often. Now stop being salty about it.”

It’s silent.

Clark is scrambling his brain, to figure out the meaning. As a journalist he tries to stay up to date on current language use, however, the only person he’s heard use that word is Jon. The boy never explained, but Clark guessed what it means. Doesn’t explain why Batman knows it.

Then the silence gets broken by a snort, everyone’s head whipping towards the source. It’s Nightwing, a newer addition and one affiliated with Batman himself. The only one there brave enough to laugh at Batman, mirthfully asking: “Did you actually say salty?”

There is no change on Batman’s face, but as a longtime friend, Clark knows he isn’t emotionless. Indeed, when he listens close, he can hear the blood rush to his face, blush hidden by the cowl.

“That was not the point of the sentence, Nightwing,” Batman counters, the name a little bit pointed on is tongue.

“Okay, okay,” Nightwing grins easily, showing his hands in surrender, an act which is made null by him adding: “Just pointing out that this is an official meeting. You’re on the record and you know I’m reporting this to the others.”

Red Robin and Robin, Clark fills in mentally, the other two known associates. Everyone already guessed that Nightwing must be close to them as well, since the younger two are closer to being Batman’s children. Now that is confirmed.

“Thank you for reminding me,” Batman says tersely, before quickly pivoting to the next point on the agenda. No one calls him out for it.

However, just because no one calls him out on it, doesn’t mean they drop it. In the weeks after the incident, whispers make their way through the halls of the Watchtower as people speculate why or how Batman came to use the word salty and how out of character it is.

Clark can hear the gossip all over the Watchtower and he’s sure Batman is aware of it too, because some brave souls have asked about. Especially when some of the others talked about the incident not being the first one.

Batman hasn’t replied yet to any of the questions or rumors. Clark thinks he likes the mystery and chaos, likes that they don’t know why the hell he sometimes lets slang slip. Even Nightwing has been seemingly silenced, never commenting with a sort of professional ease at evasion.

Nightwing is the only clue they have, along with Robin and Red Robin, but none of them seem like the culprit.

It just doesn’t make sense and Clark can’t help but have his reporter brain itch.

+1. The Batfamily

There is going to be an attack somewhere in a major city in America tonight. They cannot figure out where, so there is a nation wide stake out at all the important places. Nearly the entire Justice League has been pulled out for it and even then they don’t have enough.

Batman insists on having a skeleton crew remain on the Watchtower in case the threat turns out to be a distraction. And when it is protested, he pulls out an army of associates none of them have ever heard about to fill out the last gaps in their observational net.

The sudden introduction of about six new Gotham vigilantes, which have apparently been operating inside the city as well as outside of it, would have been the main shock if it weren’t for how they are on coms.

Red Robin and Nightwing are known as professionals like Batman, while Robin isn’t a known entity in missions, though those who have met him, know him to be serious. However, with the introduction of the others all of that professionalism melts away.

It starts about 45 minuted into their mission when Spoiler’s voice suddenly crackles over the coms: “I fucking hate stake outs, they’re so boring.”

“I know right, my ass is starting to hurt,” Red Robin – to everyone’s surprise – replies.

“No chatter on the coms,” Batman dutifully reproaches like he always does, but he sounds less stern this time. It’s as if he knows they won’t listen, but says it because it’s his role to do so.

Red Hood ignores Batman completely, idly commenting: “I don’t know, stake outs always hit different for me.”

“That’s just because you’re boring AF,” Spoiler says, an eyeroll practically audible.

“Oi, take that back,” Red Hood says, offended. “I didn’t die to have you slander my name like that!”

This is horrifying news for most of the other people stuck on the coms, however, there is a cacophony of annoyed groans as well. Why anyone would be so blasé about someone mentioning their death, they don’t know.

Until, Robin says: “Cease mentioning your death as excuse. It’s unbecoming to be so reliant on one measly event. You’re not the only one who has died, don’t be – what was it? – ah, yes, don’t be basic, Hood.”

“Yeah, Hood, don’t be salty just because you’re becoming a boring old man,” Red Robin pipes up, sounding smug. That solves the salty mystery.

“Shut up, Replacement,” Red Hood huffs. “I can talk about my death as much as I want to and you can’t stop me.”

“Hood, please, stop talking about your death, you’re going to make B sad,” Nightwing suddenly interjects, stopping the conversation before it can get out of hand.

Those with super hearing will hear Barry mutter in a shocked manner: “Is he talking about Batman?” But he is overshadowed by most of the newly introduced (and already) known Bat-associates booing loudly.

“Don’t be a fucking suck up, Dick” Spoiler hollers, only those in the know picking up on the fact it’s his name. It’s the only time Batman won’t correct them, because not everyone will know it’s a name unless it’s pointed out.

“Periodt,” the quiet voice of Black Bat supports Spoiler.

“Hell yeah, that’s what I’m talking about, BB,” Spoiler cheers when she hears the other girl.

“That was the correct usage?” Black Bat asks.

“It was, well done,” Oracle’s kind voice comes over the coms, from where she is in her lair helping with coordination.

After that it all quiets down again for about half an hour, then Bluebird breaks the quiet again, complaining: “I can’t believe I had to stay behind in Gotham of all places.”

“You live there. Willingly,” Signal answers. “And I had to stay behind too, you know.”

“They’re sleeping on us, Signal, be upset with me,” Bluebird exclaims, indignantly.

“Okay, but tea though,” Spoiler says, most of the Justice League listening in are starting to learn she likes stirring the pot a little.

“Don’t be a simp, Spoils,” Red Robin says.

“Oh, look who’s talking about being a simp,” Red Hood snorts loudly. “I observed you, loser boy, you’re the simp.”

“It’s not as much of the serve you think it is to admit to stalking me,” Red Robin deadpans.

“RR, not to be that bitch, but you’re the OG stalker, maybe- maybe don’t do that,” Nightwing says cautiously, which is apparently funny enough that multiple people start laughing.

Meanwhile Red Robin complains: “Stop laughing at me, when I did it was totally different, I didn’t plan on killing any of you.” Which is mildly disturbing

“Oi, I never planned to actually kill you-kill you either,” Red Hood protests, even more disturbing. The Justice League is starting to wonder why Batman works with the man.

“Stop with the chatter,” Batman interjects again, before it can go further. “It’s not just us on the com lines now. At least try to be professional.”

And much to the horror of the League, who could never imagine doing such a thing, Batman gets booed. Again. This time directly.

Then to add to the horror, Batman doesn’t explode in anger, like everyone would have imagined, instead he just sighs. Defeated. Batman is like a cockroach, he doesn’t get defeated. However, these kids are managing.

Batman remains defeated too, because the Gotham vigilantes continue to idly chat all throughout the next hour. They are definitely bat associated, because they never reveal any information that could be tied to their civilian identity. Instead discussing other missions, general news, funny things they saw on patrol and personal grievances with the others on the line.

If this is what Batman deals with on the day to day, some are starting to see why he would prefer the heroes of the Justice League to keep their mouths shut on missions unless it’s important.

Most try to tune it out and focus on their own stake out, though the voices keep them awake. But they notice when Spoiler’s voice suddenly becomes serious as she reports: “Sus individuals moving towards the Mayor’s office.”

“Received, getting visual on your location,” Oracle’s voice replies, also snapped back into professionalism.

Spoiler reports their appearances and currently location, until Oracle has them, running a check on them, before confirming they have a criminal record and might be thugs for hire. Spoiler says: “I am going to move in.”

Batman says: “Do not engage, Spoiler, they could be a decoy. Try and get more information first.”

“Alright, alright,” Spoiler huffs. Then adds petulantly: “I’m not gonna do it, I was just thinking about it.”

Which sounds pretty reasonable for most listening in, who aren’t of the right age group to know the meme. Batman, however, does know, because he’s been subjected to it multiple times. So, he yells: “Spoiler, no!” startling some members.

A second later, there are sounds of a fight and Spoiler gleefully saying: “I did it.”

Batman lets out a frustrated growl, but Spoiler pays it no mind and she can’t truly get chewed out, because more and more start to report suspicious individuals moving in on the targets they’re watching.

Within minutes of it starting, Nightwing reports: “They’re decoys with targets. Not the main attack, but will do damage if they succeed.”

“Everyone make sure to take out the decoys,” Batman says. “Those without decoys, keep your eyes peeled, you might be at the real target.”

“Done with my targets, moving to help the others now,” Nightwing reports seriously, before he adds: “And can I just say that I’m the GOAT. Dibs on cookies for finishing first.”

“Okay, shade much,” Bluebird says.

“Don’t be arrogant, it’s unbecoming,” Robin retorts as well.

“Yeah, stop flexing,” Spoiler adds. “I’ve wrapped up too, by the way. You’re not special.”

“Let me have this,” Nightwing complains. “You already took all my shit, let me be cool. You all used to think I was cool.”

“Yeah, used to,” Red Hood scoffs. “Then we all realized you’re a looser.”

“Ha, get wrecked,” Red Robin snorts.

“Baby bird, wasn’t I your favorite?” Nightwing asks hurt, though over the top enough to show he is faking it.

“No, sadly, that was Hood,” Red Robin replies, sounding a little like he’s grimacing.

“No cap?” Red Hood asks, surprised.

“No cap,” Red Robin confirms.

“Now I feel kind of bad for you,” Red Hood says, before some bullets are fired. “Wrapped up here, moving to help.”

Red Robin seems glad to not have to reply and none of the other Gothamites do either. With what the League has heard so far, they’re also kind of happy the topic is being dropped, unsure what to think.

Batman’s associates are among the first ones cleaning up, however, soon others are joining them and the true battles grounds – yes, there are multiple targets, these people are organized (Batman will likely obsess until he has tracked down their organization afterwards) – are discovered and heroes move in to fight them.

Throughout the battle, everyone catches snippets of this strange, newly introduced group. A group, who works well together, like an oiled machine, yet obviously made up of highly competent parts that can act on their own as well.

Like Black Bat calling out: “Red Hood, yeet,” before those fighting alongside them see Red Hood boost her into the air, so she can come flying at the terrorists.

But they also make comments about the people they’re fighting and the others that are fighting alongside them.

Signal calling out: “Bluebird is pulling some sick ass moves. Another one for her on the slay-board, Oracle.”

Or Spoiler commenting: “Okay, not to be like that or whatever, but these terrorists are kind of looking snatched.”

To which Batman sighs: “Spoiler, please, no chatter,” in a vain attempt to get them under control.

“What?” Spoiler says. “I can appreciate when they’ve at least tried to pull a fit instead of that usual para-military, ninja type BS.”

“Go off,” Black Bat pipes up again and Spoiler cheers while Batman drops it. Defeated again.

They also check in on each other, with Red Robin hissing in pain, which is immediately followed by Nightwing going: “RR, you good, fam?”

“Gucci,” Red Robin replies. “Just low-key got stabbed.”

“There’s nothing low-key about getting stabbed!” Nightwing exclaims, getting called a hypocrite by many people, while Batman is already calling for Oracle to get a visual and for a medic to head Red Robin’s way.

By the time the battle is over, the Justice League understands how different the team is that Batman usually works with. If they were surrounded by heroes who talked like that continuously, they would have probably picked up some things here and there too.

Still, it fucking weird when Batman checks over his horde, before declaring: “You were all lit out there,” causing multiple of the kids around him to groan loudly, with Bluebird calling Batman a boomer.

Clark, however, sees a small uptick in Batman’s mouth. And in that moment, he knows Batman is doing it on purpose, that he’s enjoying it. That he’s fucking with them. He doesn’t know what to do with that, nor does he think that anyone will believe it. So, he decides to share the amusement and drop it.

They’re never going to figure out Batman.

~~

A/N:

This work is going to get dated so so so fast lmao, but it’s fun rn (if ur commenting in the future, welcome to outdated slang vibes from someone who wasn’t that up to date with current slang when writing it, bc im secretly a grandpa).

Hopefully I didn’t overdo it to an unrealistic degree, but if I did, such is the story that was being told oops

Also this whole fic is just an excuse for me to write batfam banter bc I love it lmao

I didn’t include Batwing, Batwoman and Flamebird here, sorry, but writing the batfam is always so hard bc there are so many characters T-T

[youcouldmakealife]

Stuff That Helps Me Write: Procrastination Busting (Intro)

My entire writing process, I've learned, boils down to trickery.

I'm the queen of procrastination (I think that royal title automatically comes with your ADHD diagnosis). That applies to literally everything: I will procrastinate eating. Sleeping. Hydrating. Bathroom breaks. Working. Not working. Doing shit I am actively looking forward to. I have a graveyard of games I never finished because I got too close to the end and my brain went ‘I’m enjoying this too much to finish, So I guess I’ll just never play it again’.

So obviously writing’s no exception to my ability to postpone doing anything and everything, but for some reason, it’s impacted less than everything else. So why?

Because it’s my job, but that goes for literally every other part of my job too, and I can procrastinate just fine on those parts. Just look at how long publication takes me.

Because I frequently hyperfocus on it, but in order to get into that state of mind I still have to start, and that’s the part that procrastination impacts the most.

Because I enjoy writing, but as I’ve just said, enjoyment has no bearing on whether I’ll do it. Ditto the fact I find it meaningful, and satisfying, and am invested in where it’s going. None of that makes something immune to procrastination. In fact, as those poor video games show, sometimes that makes me more likely to procrastinate.

So why don’t I generally procrastinate writing?

The fact that it's my job, and I enjoy it, and find it adds meaning to my life, all have in no way made me less likely to procrastinate, but they have meant that for 20+ years, I have been methodically figuring out workarounds for said procrastination. Things will work for a little while, until procrastination inevitably pops right back up with a new excuse, and then I have to figure out a workaround for that one. It’s been a very extended game of whack-a-mole, but I now have an entire toolbox to work with, and writing is now the most consistent thing in my life, only second to reading, which I basically do daily, and don’t consider a ‘habit’ to work on any more than most would consider watching TV or playing video games every day a ‘habit’ to work on.

Now, when I say consistency, I don’t mean I write on Mondays, Wednesdays, or Fridays at 5:30 am with a lit candle and a fragrant mug of tea like I have been told to do (writing guides all seem to require writing before dawn, which is something I only ever do accidentally, wrapping up a ‘whoops, got an idea in the middle of the night’ session).

I have found some things help with that sort of consistency (and that may be another post), but I'm not that kind of consistent. Every week looks different. Every day looks different. But on average I write between 200k and 300k a year, at a rate of between 1000-1500 words a working day. My schedule may vary — I might write five days one week, three days another, might write double one week to the next, might write 12,000 or 30,000 in a month. But when I zoom out, I'm consistent as fuck on a long-term basis (with the caveat that shit can happen, such as family emergencies or ol' bastard eye acting up again)

So uh, how?

All the common wisdom is has been distinctly unhelpful, in my experience. Treats don’t work on me, as I am aware I can just…not do the thing and have the treat anyway. Rewards don’t work on me, because ‘thing in nebulous future’ doesn’t have much to do with me now, does it? Holding myself hostage (‘no dinner/break/bathroom break until you write’) does not work, and should not be done, because those things aren’t rewards, they’re basic bodily functions (…apparently).

This is, I’ve learned, literally due to my wiring. Neurotypical people have an importance based nervous system. Motivating factors for tasks are the task's importance to them (duh) or someone they care about, the rewards associated with completion of the task (offer yourself a treat! Reward yourself at the end!), and the consequences associated with not completing the task.

None of that works on me. Like. At all.

It was only in recent years I learned about the interest based nervous system, and how it’s motivated by completely different things. Things that work to motivate me involve novelty, challenge (some will use competition interchangeably here, but I am not a particularly competitive person), urgency, and, well, interest.

And in hindsight, every single trick that’s ever worked for has touched on at least one of those categories.

I’m going to stop here, because I am literally procrastinating on writing Robbie by writing this, and the irony is too much for me right now, but I think that a larger than average portion of my readership may also be helped by tricks that specifically target novelty, challenge, urgency, and interest.

So, next week — an actual bullet pointed list of shit that tricks my brain into doing the thing. Some are more targeted to writing, some can be applied to plenty of things, but all of them have, at one time or another, made me Do the Thing, which, as the queen of procrastination, is a damn triumph.

[nitewrighter]

I was curious as to how you became a children’s librarian. I was interested in becoming one myself. I wasn’t sure if you went through the local school system or through the city.

I went through the city. I work in a public library. I started as a library assistant working in circulation, where I would work both in the circulation room and on the front desk, then I got my master's degree in library science with San Jose State University during the pandemic. SJSU has a pretty great library science program--it was completely online and asynchronous, so I'd be working about 15 hours a week on 3 classes adapted to my schedule (although many of these classes would have group projects where I would have to coordinate zoom meetings with other students, so if you're in like... a non-west coast time zone you're going to want to plan accordingly). My collection development class was kiiind of a joke but for the most part all the professors were very experienced and professional about their work and helping their students. Really I wanted to specialize in Teen Librarianship but the first ~actual librarian~ position I could move into at my current work was at the children's desk because there was an opening, so I took it. But also you should know that I'm on call and working two part time jobs, and that's how it is for a lot of librarians and libraries these days. It's not insta-full time as soon as you get a masters. It takes forever to make it to full-time. And like... good fucking luck trying to get benefits. I mean I know people don't go into librarianship because they want to make that ~cash money~ but also a lot of people go into librarianship because they have very lofty and romantic notions of librarianship and ~ooh this is where I'm meant to beeee because I enjoy this space~ and I'm just going to say maintaining a space for public use is very different from being the person experiencing that space. It takes a combination of passion, adaptability, and a certain amount of mental fortitude. There are so many old people who have not touched a computer since Bill Gates was building them out of his garage and it's your fault, librarian, that they don't know shit about fuck with technology. They want to give you their social security number and make you operate the scary light up box for them but you legally cannot fucking do the thing they are asking you to do and also jesus fuck my guy you are going to get scammed so fucking bad if this is your attitude toward this shit.

...sorry, those were war flashbacks from working the tech desk.

Children's librarianship. Okay. Well. I love being a children's librarian. I love helping kids gradually work through more and more challenging books, or finding titles related to their interests. I love the little flash of validation you see in kids eyes when they start talking about what they're currently interested in and you're actively engaging with them because, hey, this is going to help me help other kid patrons, but also yes, the "Who Would Win" and "I Survived" series are very cool. I love coming up with little fun things for storytime, andI love that kids love my puppets!

But also--remember that bit I said about how existing/experiencing a public space is different from actually maintaining that space? That goes quadruple as hard for children's librarianship because if your library is a ~wonderful safe space~ where your patrons feel ~safe~ then all of the parents will turn their brains off, never clean up after their kids, and sometimes just... fucking not even bother looking up from their phone or break out of their catatonic state on the couch as their toddler toddles towards the fucking stairs. AND I GET IT. PARENTING AS-IS IS INSANE AND UNSUSTAINABLE UNDER CAPITALISM. YOU ARE COMPLETELY BURNT OUT AND YOU FEEL SAFE AT THE LIBRARY AND I HAVE NO IDEA WHERE ELSE YOU'RE GOING TO GET MENTAL REPRIEVE FOR 20 MINUTES. BUT THOSE ARE FUCKING STAIRS THAT ARE GOING TO CONCUSS THE SHIT OUT OF POOR LITTLE BREIGHDYNNE, MA'AM, AND I'M HELPING OTHER PATRONS (WHICH IS MY JOB) AND YOU ARE THE PERSON WHOSE ACTUAL JOB IS MANHANDLING THAT CHILD TO SAFETY.

Also for fuck's sake, parents, I get you're nervous about putting books back in the wrong spot but that's what the reshelving shelves are for. Would you think it's acceptable to leave books all over the floor in your own house? No? Then don't do that in a space you're sharing with other people! We're in a community, people!!

Also a child will poop themselves in your children's section (I'm not talking 'baby's diaper is full' poop, I'm talking an emotionally fragile transitional kindergartener 'i got distracted and forgot to listen to my body and now I'm having a meltdown' poop) and their parent is going to carry them off at arm's length to the bathroom and you're gonna have to do a quick check to make sure their poop... fucking stayed in their pants. And there won't be any poop on the floor but it's still gonna be at the back of your mind for your whole shift because the smell wafted through the whole children's section during the parent's daring bathroom run. Just... emotionally prepare yourself for poop. You're going to see more of it than you think you're going to see in a library--whether working children's or adults.

Whoops. Wasn't done with the war flashbacks, apparently.

Look. I do love librarianship. And I do love the library I work at and the community I serve. There is a real sense of... vitalness in the work you do as a librarian, but because you're working in this public utility, you also become sharply aware of the myriad ways our society has failed our people and just how vulnerable everyone actually is, and you frequently find yourself in this kind of funky semi-improv position between like... your actual responsibilities and skills as a librarian and meeting your community's needs and also empowering them to meet their own needs!

(Very very depressing sidenote but my boss actually advised me to not go into school librarianship because a lot of schools are moving away from trying to maintain their own libraries in favor of like, more scaled down media center sort of things. Don't know how across the board that is, but also school librarianship is also a more specialized branch of librarianship within the library science career.)

[l0vergirlwrites]

but you… ; jj maybank

warnings: few swears & lots of fluff!!!! this is really short lol

inspired by "anyone else but you" by moldy peaches

"c'mon jay! we don't sound that bad"

"you sound great babe, but i sound like shit"

the two of you were situated outside the chateau on a hammock, a guitar in your lap & a laptop in jj's. you've been dying to sing with him since you got a new guitar from your mom a few weeks ago, plus, there's a cute trend on tiktok were couples sing that one song from the juno movie... so you convinced jj to sing it with you.

"jay," you nudged him with your left elbow, head perking up to look at him. "you do not sound like shit! i, for one, like your singing voice"

scoffing at you, jj took off his cap to ruffle his hair. "you're only saying that because you like me" he half joked.

"no, i said that because i love you, surfer boy" you emphasized, seeing how he started to grin & look away from his lap to focus on you.

"yeah?"

"oh yeah"

with a sigh & a smile, jj suggested that the two of you could sing the song again. "take it away, popstar".

as you began strumming the guitar strings with the turtle pick kiara got you, the familiar chords of g & cmajor 7 filled your ears happily. jj looked at you with lovestruck eyes as he admired your smile & how happy you looked playing the instrument. & when your voice hit his ears, he could've sworn he was in heaven.

"you're a part time love & a full time friend, the monkey on your back is the latest trend. i don't see what anyone else can see in anyone else, but you..." you sang out, your eyes glancing up at jj with rosy warm cheeks.

"i kiss you on the brain in the shadow of a train. i kiss you all starry-eyed, my body is swinging from side to side. i don't see what anyone can see in anyone else, but you..." jj sang, his voice slightly quieter but beautiful none the less.

he had to look at his laptop for the lyrics & he sometimes stumbled on the words, but you thought he was the most perfect person ever.

"here is the church & here is the steeple, we sure are cute for two ugly people. i don't see what anyone can see in anyone else, but you..." you both sang together, catching glances & smiles & short laughs at how silly but pretty the lyrics were.

the rest of the song continued, your head falling onto jj's shoulder as you tried to hide how wide your smile was. it felt like the world only consisted of you both, the marsh, the smell of salt & campfires—it was pure bliss. what you both didn't know what that sarah was recording you both from the kitchen window, zooming in perfectly on you guys through a large hold in the screen window that john b forgot to fix.

it wasn't until jj pressed a kiss to yoru temple that you heard someone let out an "aweeee", causing you to turn your head up towards the house, groaning when sarah came out of her hiding place.

"sarah cameron!" you & jj shouted with fake gasps, feeling jj's arm sneak around your waist as she walked up to the hammock. the blonde boy tisked, clicking his tongue while his cold rings tapped the bare skin of your hip.

"sorry! i just couldn't help it! you guys are so cute!" you could imagine jj jokingly rolling his eyes at the blonde girl, but you mouthed a shy "thank you" that she could only see.

thanks to her, you'd always have that memory for you to replay whenever you needed it.

& for the record, you both sounded great.

[iantimony]

tuesday line go up (derogatory)

hello from the end of my workday. writing this on my office computer as i watch my simulation crash in real time in the background. convergence line go up :(

listening: astonishing legends the body on the moor part 1, for some reason astonishing legends is such good Cleaning And Organizing noise to my brain. i've raised my eyebrow at some of their conclusions sometimes but i love a good unsolved mystery that doesn't focus on true crime what i can say

more 00s, just whatever shit the spotify algorithm spits out basically..."hard and heavy headbanging tuesday afternoon". i think for brevity i am going to focus on posting only the things that stuck out to me or are ear worms at the moment, which for this week is miss murder by afi, the kill by 30 seconds to mars, and out of control by hoobastank, especially the line in the latter after the chorus that goes 'and i may never know the answer to this endless mystery' that for some reason tickles my brain.

reading: Bring Back Those Pumped Italian Sodas (Anna Hezel): i LOVE italian sodas. the candy shop on main street near me does italian sodas and it is my favorite little treat to do a hot girl walk downtown and get a little bevvy to come with me. they whip so hard. bring them back everywhere!!!!!!!!!!!!

elitism is the enemy of the people (Mina Le) and the linked The machine in the garden. (Emily Sundberg) ... discourse(tm) about What Substack Is For, which means nothing to me as a non-substack user. i use a rss reader to follow a few specific substacks but i do not use the platform even a little bit. sundberg seems to disparage the list format (shoutout to miss deb perelmen who i saw in there as an example of things that are pushed on the platform now) (deb's newsletter is one of the ones i follow with my rss feed lol) slash the concept of "list of content I’m consuming" which. looks at my weekly roundup posts. lol. i do understand to an extent, though - does my weekly roundup post make me a Writer(tm)?? i would kinda agree that no not really.

this zine that i think i reblogged yesterday is very cute.

watching: i saw the new alien movie with a friend! it was really good, i enjoyed it, i did look up the jumpscares beforehand because i do not do well with those in theaters especially the big imax ones, but it ended up not being necessary - the local theater here has no imax or any of the big surround sound gimmick things, which i actually prefer, and it also means the tickets were dirt cheap. 10/10 experience. the movie itself was fun, the correct amount of peen/vag imagery that one would expect from an alien movie. important to note that the dehumanization of an android character (who is also the only black character and strongly autism coded) is a big plot thing, it is not Good that he is treated that way and that is also a plot thing but it is important to know going in so it's not a surprise (thanks to someone in a server i'm in for pointing that out, i didn't clock it as being potentially triggering when i saw it but i was like ohh yeah that does make sense to warn people about). really good cast and plot overall, there was only like one point where i was like "whyyy nooo that makes no sense, why would you do that" (without too much spoiling, the gravity turns on and off in a portion and they were just. zooming up an elevator shaft using the lack of gravity. like why would you not be staying near the ladder. you KNOW it's going to turn off at some random point. anyways), but in general the decisions the characters made were really reasonable which made it very fun to watch the consequences of like, yeah, that is also the choice i would have made, shit. the ending made me go EUGH!! in a good way. lots of good easter eggs that i probably missed some of. made me weirdly nostalgic for my dad because when i was growing up he had a life-size hyper-realistic rubber facehugger model. he used to mime getting attacked by it. my mom hated that fucking thing. it must have gotten thrown out or given away at some point. anyways, as the kids would say: it's kino

thank u celestialtourguide for ur dropout login xoxo, i have been watching a lot of 'make some noise'. i love how sometimes you can hear the crew laughing in the background.

youtubesphere:

jimmy robins: The Fallout of Watcher's Betrayal, what sparked me looking more at dropout. also found out from the comments section that sam reich is son of robert reich ??? wild

finished the george r r martin problem. basically: yeagh

dangelo wallace: not gonna link em all but his videos on chapell roan, katy perry, blake lively, and starbucks. pop culture updates that mean nothing to me. good background noise tho

mina le: underconsumption-core, travel outfits, and Paul Mescal’s shorts, the luxury of privacy & the celebrity vs. influencer paradox. my boyfriend is a proponent of the tiny inseam shorts and i wholly encourage it. more of that, please, from everyone.

made in the moment: My Crafty Boston Apartment Tour. as someone who is also just moved into my own apartment alone for the first time and is in the process of making the space feel like mine, this hits interestingly.

playing: dnd as normal. i finally got to go mask-off, was replaced by a doppleganger like six months ago and finally got to pop off and kill some guys and beat the shit out of my friends lol >:b i have also moved the game that i run to biweekly instead of weekly. i just have too much fucking things happening and dm burnout real.

making: evil eye coasters! these made me very nervous because of how streaky the underglaze is! so i did the tedious task of re-coloring in around my sgraffito lines of my [redacted] coasters. clear coated them and crossing my fingers. these coasters are also too thin, two of them are too warped to use as coasters so ill have to figure out what to do with them. maybe drilling a hole (carefully...) so i can hang them up somewhere? the [redacted] coasters are like twice the thickness so i don't think they'll be warped as bad thankfully.

i also. made. mesopotamian foot bowl :) i did not have a reference image at the time because that happened to be when the t mobile towers went down for a few hours last saturday so i kinda just freeballed it but he looks. so silly i love him. i think im gonna have to modify him, i was chatting with the studio owner about it and she was like "if you threw that bowl on a wheel you should hollow the legs out, wheel pottery twists slightly as it dries and that plus the drying rates being different will make them just pop right off", which, i can always glue them back on! but i should give him the best odds possible. bonus lil tushy

i made a BIG BOWL !! it's not really clear from the image but it's the most clay i've ever thrown at once, i think it's like. 2.5 lb?? i didn't actually weigh it first oops i should weigh it. but it's like a foot across at the top. i put it on little ball feet to use as some sort of display bowl i think.

and there's one more bowl that is really unremarkable so no picture for now.

fiber art: made a fucking. magic the gathering card cozy for a friend that my local mtg group is putting together a care package for. it's so fucking stupid i love it. not gonna post a pic of the front, it's just a dark red border to hold the card in. i might outline the swamp symbol with matching embroidery floss (or maybe navy??) to make it pop more, might also sew a small square of fabric on the inside to hide the loose ends. colors were chosen to match his main commander which is braids

eating: FINALLY finished the gyudon. um . didn't cook many more recipes. i was going to do one pot chicken meatballs with greens and deb smittenkitchen's corn bacon and parmesan pasta last night but i spent two hours wandering walmart like my ancestors wandered the desert and came home and just had leftovers lol. the cooking will commence......today after i post this and go home.

misc: the midwest is hot this week! fml! on the plus side i don't think my average energy bill in my new place will be worse than my old one despite the worse insulation based on the mid-cycle energy report email i got, on the minus side now i am not splitting that cost so technically it feels more expensive :( thankfully i have finally been finishing the process of closing my dad's accounts so i will have a little padding in my bank account, plus i think i am supposed to get the fellowship i won deposited soon?? shrug. i booked some flights using credit card points that in retrospect i should have booked with Money because of that fellowship but oh well. i am still in the Everything Is So Expensive stage of moving as i finish getting furniture and miscellaneous home goods, hence the two hour walmart wander yesterday. i still need a couch. i think i am getting a frat house walmart futon for like $150 just because it's space efficient and won't break the bank and will be easy to sell when i move out. i should probably order that before i go visit home for 3 weeks ...... anyways. that's this tuesdaypost done and dusted.

[bitchassmcgrass]

AI generated images and videos have been making me wake up from my dreams.

Because it's easy to tell when an image was ai generated, right? 75% of the time you look at something and go "oh, that's fake as fuck. There's zero soul in this."

Sometimes if the computer gets lucky, you'll be fooled for a few seconds, until you notice something a tad bit fucky, and zoom in to see "oh, this dudes fingers are all fucked up" and "well shit, that car in the background is half horse". This whole thing has just taught me to look closer at the details to tell if it's something someone actually made or photographed or not.

Now with dreams, anything fucking goes. It's literally your brain conjuring images while you sleep. Everyone loves to talk about how weird and crazy their dreams can be sometimes, it's fun. These past couple of nights, I've had dreams that play out as normal, but then all of a sudden, right before my eyes I'll see something transform, specifically objects that are supposed to look identical looking different. Like a cassette tape that transform to vhs tape that transforms into an 8 track, with a small figurine inside. or one of the worst offenders, video game cartridges. They'll show up in my dreams, but they rarely look like normal cartridges, and almost never represent any real world games.

I used to not notice this, because it's a dream. I just believe whatever is happening right in front of me. "Oh fuck yeah dude, I just found a purple bootleg nintendo cart with a painters tape label that says "GARFIELDS 7" at my local Target!" but now whenever I see things like this in my dreams, I start to think "Hey, this doesn't seem right, is this AI generated?" and since I start noticing that my dreams aren't reality, my brain goes "FUCK" and kicks me out into reality, and I just wake up.

Not to be overly pessimistic, but with the way things are going, I understand that identification of AI generated work is a good skill to have, but I love having weird surreal dreams, and it sucks that if I notice something strange in my dream, it's harder to just ignore it and continue the adventure before my brain realizes it's conscious and decides that it's time for me to wake up

[chaifootsteps]

The other day i was watching how people made fun of the Hazbin trailer and someone uploaded a clip from "Inside Every demon is a Rainbow" to say it was a downgrade and my jaw dropped when i saw that it was true, i always thoght that the "new" H.H had something that made it look worse than the pilot but i couldn't put my finger on it, and now i think i understand the reson.

So, these are the reasons why the new clip looks like a downgrade (in my opinion):

1)The Song.

No matter your opinion on Hazbin, we all agree that "Inside of every demon is a rainbow" is an iconic song. Its not a masterpiece, but it works really great to introduce the show. Maybe its nostalgia talking, but i love this song, i really like how it start slow but then goes into a fast catchy tune as Charlie is talking with enthusiasm about her proyect. The voice actress also is doing an amazing song because she sounds SO energetic and genuine, wich is clearly a sign of how much she loved that job. Its a cringe song, but in a "charming" and pure way, that is very unique and enjoyable when you turn off your brain a little.

Meanwhile, the new one sounds like a generic, forgetable, lifeless Disney song, the only difference is that it has curses and shit. Its like its trying to replicate the other one without understanding what made it so loved.

2) The damn camera movements

The pilot was fast moving, energetic and sometimes there were parts where you couldnt tell what was happening until you paused, but even so, it was easier to digest because the camera was still most of the time, it didnt need crazy movements. There was a million things happening on screen, but at leats the camera had slight movements so your eyes could at least know where your focus should be in (check out the "so all you cartoon porn addictions" part to see what im talking about).

The new one? It shakes and zooms like crazy every time a character takes a step and it makes it hard to the eyes to understand where the fuck they should be looking. Its not even funny, someone WILL get motion sickness.

3) The character designs

Im one of those people who didnt like most of the redesigns, now i understand why: because they dont fix ANY of the problems the original ones had: no less use of red, they still have a shit ton of unecesary details, they still have copypasted body types...

I would say some are WORSE.

Take Charlie, for example; she used to wear a light red shirt with black pants, she would blend a little bit in the background when interacting with it. Now she wears a bright red suit in bright red background and she gets lost EVEN MORE. The only thing they improved was her hairstyle.

4) The animation

Some people say that the animation is good and its just the editing that makes it look bad, but i disagree. Just take a look at the pilot and then the new clip, you will see a clear downgrade.

The old animation was so smooth and expressive, new one is choppy and is afraid of smearframes. Making characters with cartoony propotions look so stiff.

Its like those Sonic games when they used motion capture to animate Sonic and his friends. So they would be literal cartoons animals moving like realistic humans and it sucked.

4) The pilot was visually easier to "diggest" in general

I gotta say, while re-watching the clip of Inside of every demon, the only parts where it was hard to follow were when Charlie interacted with characters with exagerated designs and when she is rapping and there are a lot of fast scenes that ends before you have time to understand what you saw. The rest was just ok.

But in the new clip, it was 90% Charlie jumping around different backgrounds with a drunk camera man and in some part i paused to look at the wall cuz i felt like my eyes were gonna burn if i keep looking.

So thats it, there are some other reasons but these are the most important ones.

Sorry for writting too much, its such that im mad for what they did to a proyect i used to be obssesed with.

Anyway, hope Hazbin gets cancelled in the mid of the first season and the rest became lost media, have a good day 🩷

These are some great thoughts, Anon, thank you. New Hazbin doesn't have much appeal to outsiders, but it looks even worse when held up to the pilot.

"Inside Every Demon is a Rainbow" isn't the best song in the pilot, but it was an excellent song to introduce us to Charlie. It's not an easy one to sing either, but Charlie's singing VA nailed it.

[faithfromanewperspective]

remember being in a horrid shitty mood catching the bus back to my parents, thinking, if they just painted a bus lane on the fucking road my journey could take less than 45 minutes and be way more reliable. wondering why it isn't there, the infrastructure, surely i could afford the jail time if i just went out there and built it, they wouldn't tear it down right? footpaths and shit. cause it's still a pretty rural area. instead i'm sitting on the bus destroying my mental health, no wonder i feel better having moved out of the area, when every car that cuts in front of us and all the traffic we can't just zoom past feels like a personal put-down, an insult to my way of life that i've chosen because it's better for all of us, not just me.

and realising, when my head's out of the constant frustration of it having moved out to somewhere walkable, i can see it 'above the trees' if you will that i can whine and bitch about it all i can (and believe me i have) but any change like the one i want, is political. we do this for the city, we as the whole city do it together. of course it would be good, say the 3+ million of us living in greater brisbane, soon to be 4, 5, 6, 7 million in the leadup to 2032 and after, but it's the tragedy of the commons isn't it? my priority, say 3+ million minus one self-supporting adult in this soon-to-be megacity, is getting to work every day and putting food on the table. i've never had that strong of a survival drive, I'd rather do the right thing and invest my choices into something that makes for a better city than be able to work or eat but when it comes to my mental health? sometimes you've gotta learn the hard way, some things you can't change, and it's not worth losing everything over. you can't think if you're exposing yourself constantly to what's fucking up your brain like if i punished myself for the inaction of the city it might make it better.

i'm starting to learn it doesn't. change is political, it's about power, and people are like water (bear with me, i'm a hydrologist) because it takes volume, all going a certain way, to make the biggest impact. have the strongest force. erode grooves in rocks and wash away entire buildings (this is brisbane, we've seen it happen). what we need, is all these people, 3+ million of us and more, coming together around an idea. getting together, council can't do anything to stop a majority, not in australia at least, and the functionality of a city is something we all need. heck, traffic is bad for all of our mental health and i would bet both my kidneys that the impact of it on our lives and relationships is understudied and underreported exponentially. we can solve this, but individual choices alone don't do shit.

so i'll stop beating myself up for not being able to simply will all the traffic lights along my commute to be green, and turn the energy i put into being mad at all of those stupid annoying cars into the things i do best. it turns out i'm really fucking good at drawing up ideas and connecting with people. so i'll stop beating myself up about the fact that the uni degree i did so i'd know about these things and the job i do for Experience and Sustenance meant i haven't had time to do all of these things As Soon As I Thought Of Them (like you always got told to do for your homework assignments). instead i'll think in larger timeframes. 9 years til the olympics. 2 to finish my masters degree. 27 til the rest of the world is carbon negative like tasmania and bhutan. what can i do in each of these timeframes? and how can i prioritise it?

as i coax my brain slowly out of fight or flight, as i put my pencils and watercolours and maps to annotate out on the table in front of me and say 'take your time, but you're allowed to do what you love' i know the places that have marked on my soul stand out to me. south east queensland right out to the bay. western sydney and bringing dignity to our second cbd, parramatta. queenstown tasmania, for some reason. the murray-darling basin as a whole, gundagai and the murrumbidgee at its heart. the red dirt centre of this great land and all the peoples and cultures it holds. i can hold all of their perspectives. i can train my intuition to find out all of their needs. i can put myself into 26 million pairs of shoes and decorate the lands and i can do it respectfully and lovingly like i'm tattooing my own skin because it might as well be. tattoo it with the needs of all of us and all who have gone before. blueprints of functionality, functionality we don't have, and then meet all 26 million souls (okay, i probably only need 2 million if we're starting from brisbane) and say to them, would you dream this dream with me? will you imagine this lifestyle where you're less burdened? can you be a part of simply talking about it, because that's how we're going to make it happen? can you improve it, make it better, make it yours, knowing that when you do it imprints itself on your heart a little more, you feel a part of it? and then we're all part of it. it takes years, but it can happen.

so i guess i've got my life's work cut out for me, and i'm so fucking glad i could figure this out from something that has been frustrating me to no end, because 'you can't change it' doesn't work for me unless you switch it out like a child's toy for something more big and exciting that i can change instead. fuck you, conformity. i found what it can be for me. a dream so big it doesn't matter if i can only do some of it--and who says i have to limit myself to australia?

[doonarose]

Hello fam,

Here's some TMI that I've spent the entire day spiraling over on the reddit chat but may as well therapize myself here too. Wait is therapize a real word... I did not know that.

Anyway - teaching week from absolute hell. Hours and hours and hours of on my feet labs and workshops. And then getting myself in a position where I had to mark prac write ups - 88 of them - in about 48 hours. Reckon it took me about 16 hours and it's mind numbing exasperating work because this is their first one - a quarter of them failed, some of them wrote the most incoherent bullshit...

That means my brain has been frazzled and fried since sometime Tuesday and by some oversight I neglected to put in my calendar that my parents were dropping their dog off at my house today to mind for a week. Probably because it's no big deal and not something I really need in my calendar.

Except I completely forgot. 100% out of my brain, gone, no idea it was happening until I got a text at 10.30 saying the dog had been dropped off and they were on their way to their airbnb where they've got a few nights away or whatever.

Now, worth noting, they did need to go into the house to drop the dog off, because this is the dog that, famously, escaped this same house a bit over a year ago, got smacked by a truck, was 50/50 on surviving for a long while, and cost them $6k to fix... so yeah, of course let yourselves in, dump the dog and lock the doggy door.

So a few things to know:

I live in a messy house at the best of times. Dishes in the sink, last night's plates still on the table, a bag of used tissues next to me on the couch, socks on the floor, etc. Like it's not gross rotting food or anything, but it's not the standard I like to show my parents (or anyone else). So that's a bit embarrassing.

Last night, because I pulled a 12 hour day of admin and prac marking, I fell into the too-often-fallen-into habit of having a decent slosh of vodka over ice with soda as soon as I got home at 8pm to turn my brain off so I could sleep before midnight. I left the half empty bottle of vodka on the table in the living room.

Also when I got home last night I took my bra off in the living room and left it draped across a chair.

Also, in a particularly lazy moment, I had left the eski full of water from almost two weeks ago sitting in the same spot in my kitchen which, yeah, okay, gross of me, but I intended to clean it up before anyone fucking saw it.

And you're probably reading this and thinking that it really isn't that bad so here's the real main source of mortification. Because I live alone and because no one would ever just drop in and because I've been busy and lazy and whatever. I also left my bright magenta sex toy besides the bathroom sink this morning. Where it had been since the morning before. Because that's a fine, logical place to leave it. And when I got the text I immediately remembered that because I saw it this morning when I was getting ready to go into work at 7.30 for an 8am zoom to the US, and kind of vaguely thought 'I should put that away' and then didn't. And didn't close the door to the bathroom because i only do that on hot days and it's been mild, finally, the last few days. And then when I got that text I tried to convince myself that my parents would have no reason to go into my bathroom, even though they would have obviously gone in the house and seen the above bad shit. And then I tried to convince myself that even if they had seen it, we would never speak of it and I would never know.

Anyway, I got home a half hour ago and my toilet door is fully closed, it's next to the bathroom door that remained fully open, magenta fucking rabbit in full view. I never, ever fully close the toilet door because it jams.

So anyway... may never wank again. Will, at some point, report on how I handle my face and soul next time I have to speak/see my parents.

If I die tonight, my COD will be mortification.

[thelanor-s-astame]

EPISODE 2

This one is probably the episode I’m gonna have the least amount to say about. I still hadn't really solidified anything yet. It was still super off the cuff, and still uber amateur hour. But I think it’s a little bit better than the first one. I sorta lock down the flow a lot better in this one. The first bit in particular is really good. And it was a thing that I came up with in, like, the 11th hour that improved the whole thing. I remember needing to pad this bit out a little, I didn’t want to start with him meeting with Cornifer. I wanted him to establish himself a little first. And also it’s kinda funny when quite a bit of the video is me talking to two characters who I also play. Saine locked down the Cornifer voice in this episode. I think this is the first one I directed him in. He gives a real great performance here! Still real proud of the “Yeah money can’t buy happiness, but it can bribe off unhappiness so, yeah it’d help.” line. The dynamic zooms I did here are a little to tiny. This is something I still screw up from time to time. Gotta zoom in quite a bit if there’s only gonna be two cuts! But I always underestimate how much of something I need. Do that shit when I cook too. Just don’t add enough spices sometimes. But I started putting still images over the characters when they’re not talking! Me from two years ago is making little steps forward to give the series a visual style that works!

That’s the thing about these youtube videos that are nice. I can kinda just be really amatureish, screw up a ton, and have people come for the stuff I already know how to do, and just, figure it out as I go along! One of the things I started out thinking was “Is it gonna be a pain in the ass to manually apply a sound filter to every track every time I take damage on screen?” And nowadays that’s the *least* pain in the ass, manual thing I have to do! I can do that shit in less than a minute!

Also all the audio channel stuff whenever hornet shows up before the confrontation, is just me playing around with the sound design of the scene. I will just take any opertunity to do that. I did a deadcells video where I replaced every single sound, with a SSBM sound effect manually, for a joke that lasted 12 seconds. It took like 3-4 hours I just love making the noises go! It makes my brain go brrrr!

Grub Father was the first voice role I ever gave to Flashgen. An absolute shame I haven’t given him more. The dude will come up to be like “So I was thinking about what voice to give the character and I was thinking something like this? Is this good?” And it’ll be the perfect voice and exactly what I’m looking for. Dude never disappoints.

So Zote is very much a “So here’s the obvious bit, how do I make it a little better” kinda character. The obvious bit for zote is the one he is! He’s an obnoxious jackass who’se actually a poor lil meow meow that’s incapable of walking three steps without getting shit on. But will bullshit about being the best and better than you.” What if, instead of bring an asshole, he was passively condescending. What if he *acted* like he was hot shit. And what if he gave convincing performance? That’d almost make him more insufferable. And what if *even still* everyone could see right through him.

So the hornet fight was the first one of these I did. And it’s where I figured a looot of the groundwork for these. Basically I had to be way more dynamic with the camera, hide cuts so I could go forward and back in time, I muted the music and fought her without that, muted the voice sounds (This was a helova first fight because hornet sure does announce her attacks) and I needed to only go in and mute when she said something so you could still hear the attack noises. Then I realized I’d need to manually put in some of those sounds myself because it’s super noticeable when she does an attack and the SFX isn’t there. Whoo boy did this one teach me how to do a looooot of that stuff. And ultimately I’m surprised it came out as good as it did. Especially ‘cus I was on a time crunch with this one. Some of the cuts are a little awkward but still. Like, so much of the fundamentals I do when editing a fight scene I brute forced learning here I’m surprised it has the same flow as the rest of the fight scenes in these videos. Shocking to come back to this one and see how much *did* work.

So, first bit of lore building here. Hornet was a character I already had plans for. She was gonna be the star of the Silksong series. So I already had her pretty characterized as essentially a dumb nerd who didn’t have any friends, spent most of her time alone, talking to herself, and was hyperfocused on combat and combat history. And, thing is, I don’t know all that much about combat history, but I do know about film history! So I just kinda simplified it, replace some names with bug names and was like “Yeah that’s good.” And so that began. I’ve got a very Yes And theory about writing. I’ve always been hugely influenced by The Venture Brothers. The way a lot of that show goes is “Hey we invented this character as a funny joke background character in season two, now it’s season five and their tragic backstory is integral to the plot.” Retcons are boring. Take the thing that was true and make it true in whatever situation. There’s Do not change a character to suit the tone, leave them as they are and have the struggle with the tone. And for gods sake don’t flanderize them. A character grows every second their on screen, and sometimes they outgrow their joke. But it’s okay if they outgrow their joke, the new joke that they’ve grown into is *much funnier because it required that growth*!

And the fighting history stuff I’ll talk more about on episode three because that was then I actually solidified what the story was gonna be.

Also I might get into the dreamers a little bit more there too. But their characters stuck out there. The joke I set up about The Pale King being garbage at sex but that Herrah loved to brag about getting him in the sack is one I planned out *from* this episode. Finally got to see it pay off! Also speaking of Herrah, that was the first time I got Ponk in here! Always does a great job! Unfortunately, she used her Discord Mic here. This one wasn’t a situation where she didn’t have a good mic. She just forgot to use the good one and I completely forgot she is also really into audio stuff too and would jump at the chance to use her fancy stuff. She has been since!

And that’s episode 2!

[dragonofeternal]

Zooming in on those tags. Tell Me

I want you to know I literally cackled aloud in delight when I saw this message.

Okay. So.

~*~Legato Quadrant Shipping~*~

Legato ♥ Knives Not so much in an ooooh I think their love is so totally canon uguu~ way (I think your post about the insurmountable wall of mutually insane bullshit between them is a really great breakdown of all the stuff they have both for and against them) but in a way where like...

Legato is devoted to Knives utterly and completely. This devotion is of a sort that it consumes his bodily autonomy and turns him into someone who makes himself a weapon purely to advance Knives's goals. He is pitiably obsessed. This obsession doesn't need to be reciprocated either; he is content to be of use, to be acknowledged for that alone.

He ALSO (although he would never, ever admit it to an outside party) can see the edges where Knives is weak. He held him with his threads when they first met; he senses the shift in the air when Vash and Knives clash on the arc the first time and knows that if he doesn't intervene, Vash will absorb Knives. Knives lets him live despite knowing and seeing these parts of him, and Knives relies on him, even if he won't articulate that's what he's doing.

Legato ♦ / ♠ Elendira Much ado has been made over the years about ships with red/black flips, but I'm here to tell it to you straight and say that the REAL shit is a good pale/black flip. The way that mutual respect and mutual annoyance are inexorably linked!!! They way that only someone who hates you soooooo bad can know your weak points in a way that would allow them to cover for them!!!!!

It's pretty clear that Elendira doesn't like Legato- she takes clear annoyance that Legato is the only Gung Ho Gun without a number, she """jokes""" about killing him for being useless in front of Zazie, she drags him back from the Dragon's Nest riddled with her nails. While Legato's own feelings on her seem to not be quite as aggressively negative, he does still act petulant and dismissive around her when she tries to antagonize him.

And yet... it's not all just hate. While Knives is the one who sends Elendira to rescue Legato from the Dragon's Nest, Elendira herself tries to intercede and stop Legato from interfering in the fight between Knives and Vash because she feels he'll be outclassed and smashed like a bug. She's clearly impressed and grateful when Legato saves them from Zazie's treachery, AND when the poison takes effect on her, one of her first thoughts is to wonder if Legato is already dead... enough so that she drags herself to where he should have been. When Elendira dies, Legato senses it and takes a moment of pause in his fight with Vash before promising he'll join her soon.

I'm always grrr about things that try to simplify moirallegience into just "TEE HEE BESTIES" -- I don't think a moirail/kismesis flip relationship between Elendira and Legato would be the sort where they're braiding each other's hair one day and stabbing each other the next, but I think there's a lot you could dig into with their relationship as one of mutually respect for each others' power, mutual annoyance that Knives gives the other the time of day, and an irrepressible need to make sure that the other gives their ALL in everything they do.

...And now.

Allow me to show you my final big brained quadrant thought:

Legato ♣ Wolfwood ♣ Vash GETS UP ON A CHAIR WITH A MEGAPHONE: KNIVES APPOINTED WOLFWOOD TO AUSPISTICE BETWEEN LEGATO AND VASH!!!!!!!

Cuz like. For all that Legato is sometimes in spades for Elendira THERE AIN'T NO INTENTIONS MORE PITCH THAN THE ONES LEGATO HOLDS FOR VASH THE STAMPEDE. Vash nearly killed Knives. Vash's pacifism irritates every viewpoint on how Legato sees the world. Legato wants to fucking destroy Vash until not a single speck of him remains.

And that's a problem for Knives because like. Mmm, holds back a yawn, you know he's kiiiind of fond of Legato cuz he's useful, so he can't have anything happen to Legato. And as for Vash, well, no one's allowed to lay a finger on Vash but Knives (because he wants him in every quadrant like a desperate fool what) and if he lets Legato's dysfunctionally aggressive blackrom play out it's gonna end with one or both of them dead.

INSERT NICHOLAS D. WOLFWOOD, PROFESSIONAL KILLER BABYSITTER AUSPISTICE. The Punisher's good at doing stuff, right? So he can follow along and make sure things don't get too unbalanced between Vash and Legato! Problem solved.

Except that Wolfwood is painfully outclassed by these two freaks of nature, an issue made more complicated by the fact that Vash never saw a problem he couldn't try to pale/ash flirt his way through before vanishing into the night but wait maybe he wants more than just helping Wolfwood and vanishing into the sunset??? Also Vash isn't stupid and can tell somethings up??? And so whatever tangled mess is going on with vashwood is there mucking up this perfectly good auspisticeship while Legato makes CRAAAAAAZY faces in the bg.

(And then Wolfwood dies and Legato is free to pursue his blackrom with Vash to the beautiful conclusion of finding meaning and joy through testing his strength against Vash before finally fulfilling the dysfunctional end we all knew was coming the end.)

ANd uh yeah that's my Legato quadrant thoughts.

[banannabethchase]

Secrets to Hide - also on AO3

~

"Be very careful who you lie to" is advice Claudio Castagnoli should have taken before he married Jon Moxley, and before he started sleeping with Wheeler Yuta on the side.

Warnings: Major character death, infidelity, murder, graphic depictions of violence (see AO3 for more details)

~

This is very loosely inspired by Two Black Cadillacs and Sarah's prompt, but I went the Sara route and Schrodinger's Prompt-ed this bitch. Tis a dark one, folks!

~

+6 months, 12 hours, 24 minutes, 5 seconds

Mox slings his arms around Wheeler’s shoulders. “I mean, it’s one of those things you can’t explain, right?” He gazes at Wheeler, feeling something too close to love bloom in his chest. “Sometimes people are brought together by grief. Memory of the loved ones lost, you know.”

Wheeler beams at Mox. “It’s weird, but it works for us.”

Eddie snickers from where he’s head first in a bowl of soup.

“What?” Wheeler asks. “Not a fan of love?”

“You guys are terrible,” Eddie laughs. “Jesus.”

Mox and Wheeler share a knowing glance, then turn back to the group.

Ruby laughs into her soda. “Eddie’s just jealous because Mox promoted Wheeler over him.”

“He wasn’t even working there at the time,” Mox says, taking his arm back. He turns to Wheeler. “And Claudio, rest his soul, rated you highly in your performance reviews. You were the only reasonable person to become the gym manager.”

Eddie shrugs. “He’s right, Roo. I’m just glad I got a steady job again. Beauty in tragedy, right?”

Mox nods. “Beauty in tragedy.”

Wheeler leans over and kisses Mox’s cheek. “I gotta get home, baby, but I’ll see you tomorrow at work.”

Mox kisses Wheeler gently, still reeling from how different this is from before. From who he used to kiss. “Okay,” he murmurs against Wheeler’s lips. “I’ll see you later.”

He watches Wheeler walk off and turns to Eddie, who has the most knowing of smiles. “You two sure are a picture,” he says.

Mox shrugs. “You find love in the weirdest ways.”

~

+7 days

Mox gets home from the service past midnight to see the door cracked open, just the slightest. He pulls out his pocket knife, wishing he’d listened to Eddie years back telling him to grab something bigger, and slowly walks into the house, locking the door behind him. There was no car out front, no bike, nothing.

“Hello?” he calls. “I just came home from my fuckin’ husband’s funeral, so if you wanna die, now’s a good time to show yourself.”

He recognizes the chuckle as the figure slides out from behind the door. “Hey,” Wheeler says, smiling. “I had the Uber drop me off at Kroger, then walked here.”

Mox freezes. “Shit, did I awaken some sort of serial killer shit in you?” He holds out the pocket knife. “It’d be great if you didn’t kill me.”

Wheeler laughs a little as he shakes his head, a glint in his eye that intrigues and worries Mox. “Not my plan,” he says. His steps are slow and deliberate as he comes up to Mox. “What do you say to a little celebration?”

Mox raises an eyebrow. “That’s – that is not where I saw you going with this.”

Wheeler drops to his knees in front of Mox, and his brain starts to scream in a combination of his blood zooming southward and the alarm bells of fucking the guy who just helped kill your husband. “Come on,” Wheeler says, and he begins to see how easily Claudio was seduced by those eyes and that smile. “I can’t be the only one who felt it.”

His hands settle on Mox’s belt buckle.

Mox should refuse. Mox should kick him out, not even pay for the cab, and send this kid packing. He should go back on the promise, should make sure Wheeler Yuta can’t set foot in this town again without getting his ass beat.

“Fuck, yeah,” Mox says, and Wheeler’s hands undo his belt.

Wheeler’s smile feels like heaven around his cock, and it’s only a few moments before he’s in this, fully. Good decisions be damned. He’s at worst a murderer – this doesn’t even make the list of bad things he’s done.

“Get up,” Mox says. “Gotta – there’s no bed in the main bedroom, obviously, but the guest –”

Wheeler stands and wipes his mouth, nodding. “I, uh. I know where that is.” He shrugs, apologetic eyes. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Mox says. “It’s all mine now.” He grins at Wheeler. “Including you, I guess.”

Wheeler laughs as they tug each other into the guest bedroom, bite marks and scratches blooming as Wheeler fucks him into the mattress without a care in the world.

“Surprised,” Mox gasps, scrabbling for purchase against the cheap mattress and bedspread. “When I walked in on you and Claudio, you were bent over for him.”

Wheeler laughs, hands gripping Mox’s hips tighter to drive into him. Mox whimpers. “Yeah, well, Claudio always liked to be on top, didn’t he?”

“He always did.” Mox groans as Wheeler wraps a hand around his cock, unrelenting thrusts meeting focused, concentrated strokes. It’s strangely easy to speak of Claudio in the past tense. He’d expected it to take longer. “Liked his – oh, god – liked his men on his knees for him.”

“Now you’re on your knees for me,” Wheeler growls, and Mox comes without warning.

~

+6 days

The funniest thing about how the memorial service was set up, Mox thinks, is that there’s a massive area specifically for former colleagues. There’s about a dozen of them, and Mox has only met around half. He wonders if Claudio was fucking anybody else in this group, if anyone else should have been in on the plan.

If Claudio lied to everybody about who Mox was.

“Mox?” says a small, blonde woman. “Are you – you were Claudio’s husband right?”

Mox nods. “I was.”

She takes his hands and smiles at him. “He was a wonderful man,” she says gently. “I’m sure you miss him dearly.” Mox tries his best to smile back at her. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Did everyone know about me?” he asks.

“Some, yes,” she says. “But we were all quite focused on the work. You know how it is.”

Mox doesn’t. In his line of work, you often learn who people are before you join them in the ring. “I know,” he lies. “Thank you.”

The line of people stretches far, and Mox is wondering if he should have just had Claudio be cremated with how long this is taking.

And then a familiar pair of eyes meet his further down the line, and he nods once.

He braces himself to meet Wheeler for the first time officially, talking aimlessly for a moment with one of Claudio’s aunts, who weeps into his shoulder until she moves down to Claudio’s mother.

“Hi,” says Wheeler, smiling sadly. “I’m Wheeler Yuta – I worked with Claudio.”

Mox nods, holding his hand out to shake. Wheeler does, and it’s a completely different shake than the first one: meek, gentle. As much as a show as everything else the two of them are doing. “Oh?”

Wheeler nods. “He was a good man.”

“Yes,” Mox says, the lie sparkling between the two of them like a firework, “he was.”

Wheeler joins Claudio’s work friends in throwing roses into the casket, bumping the back of Mox’s hand with his as they pass wordlessly on the path. Mox knees in front of the casket, hearing the weeping of Claudio’s family behind him. His eyes are dry but red.

“Good riddance,” he murmurs, so quiet he can barely hear himself. “Until we meet on the other side.”

He exhales and stands, and meets Wheeler’s eyes one last time.

~

0

“Babe?” Mox yells, throwing open the door. He drops the groceries on the ground. He hopes it’s not suspicious he only got things that don’t need the freezer.

His heart is already racing, expecting to see Claudio tidying the bathroom or making dinner. Maybe half alive on the floor of the bathroom, puking up every last ounce of life in his body. “Claudio, where are you?”

His hands shake as he walks through the rooms of their house. The kitchen, where they’d cooked countless meals: empty. The living room, where Claudio had fallen asleep in Mox’s lap more times than any one man could count: empty. The bathroom: empty. The guest room: empty.

Mox takes a deep breath before pushing open the door to their bedroom.

Claudio lay in the bed, color wrong, completely still.

“Claudio?!” Mox shrieks. He runs to him. Despite how much he wanted this, despite the fact that this was the ultimate outcome, the panic of a dead body in front of him, of his husband’s dead body in front of him, sends shocks of adrenaline and fear through him. He shakes Claudio’s shoulders, frantic, trying to see if there’s anything left in him. His head shakes around violently, and Mox realizes the chill against his fingers is Claudio’s skin.

He makes the strangest wailing noise as he fumbles in his pocket for his phone, dialing 9-1-1 with shaking hands. “9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”

“I – I came home, and he was in bed – he’s so cold.”

“Who is, sir?”

Mox takes a deep breath, voice shaking. He’d thought he’d have to act this part. He didn’t think his reaction would be genuine. “My husband.”

The next hours are a blur – police officers, EMTs, the phrase, “Dead on arrival,” the bedroom blocked off. He doesn’t stop shaking the whole time.

“Sir, is there anyone you can call?” The police officer – Mox thinks her name was Grant – asks gently.

He nods. “I – my friend Eddie.” He fumbles for his phone. “I – I’ll stay with him.”

She slides him her card. “If you need anything, or have an idea of who may have done this.”

Mox nods absently, putting his phone to his ear as it rings. “Eddie,” he says. “Claudio’s gone.”

~

-5 days

“Alright,” Eddie says. “I got the stuff. All I gotta do is get Ruby to give it to her friend Toni, Toni drops it off for the DoorDash order, and we’re in the clear.”

Mox fidgets, glancing down to the phone, where Wheeler is on the other line. “Are you sure we can pull this off? If they can trace it back to us, we’re all fucked.”

Eddie shakes his head. “This shit’s fast acting and it can’t be detected after four hours, so, as long as you’re out of the house while it takes effect…”

“I’ll be out of there,” Mox assures him. “I’ll run errands or something, be somewhere with lots of cameras.” He turns to the phone on the table and leans in. “Wheeler, your job is to make sure he takes his ass home the second he starts showing symptoms. If he doesn’t get home, the plan doesn’t work.”

“I can make that happen,” Wheeler says through gritted teeth. “He…he listens to me. Trusts me with the gym.”

Mox holds back a laugh. “Course he does. But, Wheeler. You have to make sure he drinks that specific coffee,” Mox says in a low voice over the phone. “If he doesn’t, or if it gets into somebody else’s hands…”

“He’ll drink it,” Wheeler assures Mox. “He always chugs the coffee when Door Dash brings it at 9:45. Like clockwork.”

“Is it the same person every time?” Mox asks. “Because if it is…”

Wheeler shakes his head. “Different people, and he never interacts with them.”

“Okay,” Mox says, exhaling. “Okay, this is gonna work. It’ll work.”

~

-10 days

“You want to what?!”

Mox glances around the sports bar. He’d never be caught dead in here, is the thing, which is why it works so well for cover. People all around them are screaming about some hockey game. They’re completely drowned out, and no security cameras in the place makes for the perfect hidden spot. “He’s gonna keep doing this shit if we don’t stop him,” he says quietly. “And if I leave him, I’m left with nothing, and so are you.” He glances around again. “The only way out of this is killing him.”

“That seems extreme,” Wheeler says, dark eyes panicked. “Mox, I know we both hate him, but – is murder the answer?”

“Legally?” Mox says, stretching out. Wheeler’s eyes slide to his tattoos, and Mox decides not to be too much of a dick about that. “No. Logically? Rationally? Hell, morally? Yeah. Yeah it fucking is.” He focuses his eyes on Wheeler’s. “You’ll lose your job at the gym if you tell him. His next of kin might promote you to manager if you kill him.”

Wheeler’s eyes widen. “You – really?”

Mox nods. “And nobody would suspect it. Not for a fuckin’ second. If I knew about you, I’d hate you, right? That’s what everybody would think. But if it’s you and me behind the scenes and everybody else thinks I’m just a grieving husband promoting my late husband’s best reviewed employee, nobody’ll look twice.”

Wheeler stares at a knot on the sticky wood table for a few minutes. “Okay.” He lifts his head, finally, to meet Mox’s eyes. “If you take care of the – of the logistics, I’ll do what I need to do to help.” He nods. “You swear I get the gym after this?”

“I’ll be owner in name only,” Mox says, sticking out his hand. “I mean, I need a little cash flow to pay the bills, but, other than that? It’s all you.”

Wheeler nods, shaking Mox’s hand without an ounce of hesitance. His grip is strong, which Mox should have expected, but then there’s a fascinating fire in his eyes that Mox wants to get to know better. “Okay,” Wheeler decides, nodding. “Okay.”

~

-12 days

The text comes at 7:30 before his match, when Mox is backstage smoking a cigarette.

“The fuck is that?” Eddie asks, leaning over to check his phone. “Everybody you know is either here or – well, wherever the fuck Claudio’s at.” He shakes his head and scoffs as he takes another drag of his cigarette. “Not here, I’m guessing.”

Mox exhales. “If I tell you something, your ass better shut the fuck up for the rest of your life about it, you hear?”

Eddie pauses. “Oh. That sounds interesting. Lay it on me.”

“He’s been fucking one of his employees. Told the kid I was dead.”

Eddie’s jaw drops, and Mox allows himself a moment to be pleased, because it’s hard to rattle Eddie with something as simple as words. “No fuckin’ shit.”

“None,” Mox replies. “You were right about him.”

“Yeah, but I’m not happy about it!” Eddie says. He chucks his cigarette to the ground and stops on it with the heel of his boots. “The fuck you gonna do about it?”

Mox wiggles his phone. “Answer this text, first.”

“You gonna give me, like, an ounce of detail for what that’s about?”

“This is Wheeler Yuta,” Mox says, shoving the phone to Eddie. “The sidepiece. The other man. The –”

“Fuck, I get it,” Eddie grumbles. He scans the text. “You guys are gonna meet up?”

Mox takes the phone back and nods. “Kid seemed pretty pissed about the whole thing. Didn’t like how he was sympathetic for a widower who was actually a sleazebag.” He looks at Eddie. “What’s with that look?”

“Just,” Eddie exhales and drops his head against the wall. “He fucked me around at the gym, then he cheats on you and pretends you’re dead?” He looks at Mox, eyes bright with anger. “This fucker deserves more than just a consequence.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying,” Eddie says, “that you have a decision to make.”

~

-13 days

Mox is fidgety and panicked outside the Starbucks. It’s probably a terrible decision, harassing this kid at work. But a more terrible decision was fucking his husband, and the kid did that first. So.

He shoves open the door once the rest of the customers have left and the kid, Wheeler Yuta, looks up at him, almost bored.

“Are you here to rob us?” he asks cooly. “We’ve been watching you pace back and forth outside for, like, an hour.”

“Actually I’m here to ask why you’re fucking my husband.”

Dead silence.

The girl behind Yuta, one with brown and blue hair and admittedly impressive galaxy makeup on her face, steps away. “I’m gonna make the guess this doesn’t have to do with me,” she says, backing out of the situation, “but yell cantaloupe if you need help, Wheels.”

“It’s not me either,” Wheeler says. “I’m not fucking anybody married.”

Mox boils with rage.

“Oh, really?” Mox asks. He whips out the framed photo of he and Claudio kissing at their wedding in navy suits with matching floral patterned ties, then the one of the two of them showing off their rings in front of the courthouse. “You didn’t have this guy’s dick in your ass yesterday?”

Mox watches the kid – confusion, recognition, horror. He’s either the actor of a generation, or something far more insidious is happening here. “You’re – Claudio’s still married?” he asks, voice pinched. He braces himself on the counter. “This – no. He said he – he said…” He trails off. “Are you Jon?”

Mox nods slowly, unsure of where this is going. “Uh. Yeah. Jon Moxley. Formally Jon Castagnoli.”

Wheeler shakes his head, then barks out the coldest laugh Mox has ever heard. “He told me you died,” Wheeler mutters. He finally looks up at Mox. “He said he was a widower, that you died in some weird – I think he said incident with a table?”

Mox exhales long at that. “Of course. I’m a wrestler – I had a rough table spot a few years back, but it sure as shit didn’t kill me.” He clenches his fists, then realizes he’s mirroring the kid in front of him. Hunched over the counter, bearing the weight of life changing news.

“We should meet up and – and go over this more,” Mox says. He scrawls his number on a napkin and shoves it across to Wheeler. “A place you’re not at work.”

Wheeler nods, holding the paper in his hands. “Yeah. I’ll, uh. I’ll text you.”

“Hold that thought.” Mox pulls out his phone and changes his Pin number. Now it’s the date Claudio has been claiming Mox had “died.” “Alright. Text me any time. And please don’t fuck my husband again.”

Wheeler laughs, a little panicked. “I don’t plan on it.”

~

-14 days

“How was work?”

Mox does his best to keep a mild, disinterested look on his face as Claudio saunters into their kitchen. He’s covered in a sheen of sweat. Mox doesn’t want to know from what.

“Lovely, darling.” He leans in to kiss Mox, who makes the mistake of flinching. “Everything alright?”

“You’re sweaty,” Mox says, forcing a laugh. “As hot as you are, armpits are armpits.”

Claudio laughs, easy and jovial, and Mox wonders if this is how he feels after nailing the client. “Alright, alright, I’ll take a shower. Then dinner?”

Mox nods. “Was thinking we could order in – I’m feeling something Italian.”

“Hmm,” Claudio says. “I was thinking sushi.”

Mox refuses to let out the scathing remark that pops into his mind. “We could do sushi.”

Claudio empties his pockets onto the kitchen table, as always, and Mox does everything he can not to snap up the phone right now and demand an explanation. Claudio leans in and kisses his forehead. “After my shower, we’ll order.”

Mox nods and follows Claudio with his eyes until the water starts. He takes note of where everything on the table sits, then snatches the phone up. Long ago Claudio had admitted to using his birthday for every four-digit password, and it works in Mox’s favor. He scrolls through the messages as quickly as he can – everything is innocuous, other than his communications with Claudio, of course. Nothing’s in the texts, in the phone log.

At every noise, Mox’s head snaps up and he checks the hallway, ensures he can still hear the water running and Claudio’s warble of whatever pop song is popular right now.

Mox is taken back to a few weeks ago, when the gym had shifted from an 80s playlist to something more modern, and he’s horrified to realize it’s probably on the recommendation of Claudio’s boy toy.

His entire body goes cold.

“Playlists,” he mutters, opening Claudio’s Spotify app. He checks – and there it is. His heart races as he pulls up a playlist called Gym Songs. There’s only one collaborator, and Mox can’t help himself from smiling cruelly. These stupid Gen Zers not knowing basic internet safety. His entire name is there.

Wheeler Yuta.

“Stupid fuckin’ name,” Mox mutters. He opens the Facebook profile attached to the Spotify account and memorizes every detail he can. The kid is 26, works at the gym and a Starbucks around the corner from where Mox and Claudio live. Mox is disgusted even further – Claudio should know better than to fuck a employee. The kid’s got a degree in kinesiology, which Mox will have to google later, from some fancy private school. It stings.

He sets Claudio’s phone down after deleting the search history from Claudio’s Facebook and clearing the Spotify screen back to the home page.

He grabs his own phone, scrolling through random car videos on Instagram just for something to do.

“There we are,” Claudio says, beaming as he saunters back into the kitchen. He smells like the body wash Mox bought him for their anniversary a few weeks before, smoky sweet. Mox wants to squirt it into Claudio’s eyes. “Sushi, yes?”

Mox nods, holding up his phone. “Already got DoorDash ready.”

~

-14 days, 19 hours, 42 minutes, 8 seconds

Mox had expected this to be a sweet little surprise – grab the Swiss chocolates, put the pretty flowers in a vase, hold the card awkwardly so he can push open the door to his husband’s gym. It should have been flawless.

So why the fuck is Claudio bent over a twink-adjacent, too hot for his own good client in the owner’s office, railing him into oblivion?

Both grateful and infuriated by the small door window, Mox hightails it out of there and chucks the gifts in the trash.

“On our fuckin’ anniversary,” Mox grumbles, slamming the car door shut. He can’t decide if he wants Claudio to know he walked in on him, and instead drives himself home to stare at the bed he’s shared with a man he thought he knew.

[theambivalentagender]

Holy shiiit this exactly.

My dad recently discovered he has aphantasia, so this has been a popular topic where we've been comparing notes on what it means for us to visualize things.

And what's really funny is that my dad paints landscapes in his retirement. And people are always shocked when he mentions he has aphantasia, even more so when half the time he doesn't really use reference for painting.

Meanwhile, I've always had an incredibly vivid imagination, and I picked up art early on. But I rely so *heavily* on reference, because drawing things purely from my own head is so hard. Like, I know it's hard for everyone, but for me I often have to take whatever I'm using as reference and put it right next to where I'm drawing, because the half a second it takes for my eyes to move from a reference to the page is enough time for my brain to just toss out every detail of what I just saw.

When I try to imagine things, it's super easy for me. But when I try to pause a scene and look at specific details, suddenly my brain starts substituting the wrong things in there.

Like, I try picturing my partner in the kitchen making lunch, and right off the bat I can do that easily. But if I were to try and mentally zoom in on his face for details, my brain will suddenly think about how his beard reminds me of the pokemon Perrserker, and now his beard is just a void and he's wearing the little Perrserker viking hat and laughing, except now I've thought too hard about his voice and my brain has decided he sounds like his Goofy impression all the time now.

And yeah, I do have adhd. And yeah, this is infuriating sometimes. It's why I can never "retrace my steps" to find something and whenever someone asks me to describe someone I'll just say dumb shit about their hair color or whatever, or I'll say something very specific that I can picture clearly only to find out my garbage brain completely made that up. I've done this with both strangers and long time friends. I hope I never witness a crime because the criminal sketch artist will hate me.

i have neither a good imagination nor aphantasia, but a secret third thing

[creek-cryptid-deluxe]

You know what's a crazy aspect of being human? As you move through the world and interact with people, you start to learn that not even "neurotypical" brains all work the same. You want an example? No? Tough.

So for the entirety of my life, I've had traits that made me puzzled by some things about other people.... til I realized that not everyone's brain [or even most brains] do that.

Once I read a book, even just once, if I pick it up a decade later I will remember the entire book after reading the first paragraph or so. [I have to REALLY love a book to re-read or own it.] I genuinely didn't understand how people could say that they remembered reading a book awhile back but don't remember anything about it so are re-reading it as though it is the first go.

I don't have that ability for anything, really. In the first 5 or 10 mins of a movie or show, I can tell you if I've seen it, when, and the entire plot/arch. As opposed to me watching a movie with my dad, him saying he's not seen it, and me slow turning to look at him incredulously before I tell him that we watched it together not one year ago. He has zero memory of anything he's ever watched that isn't LOTR, Star Trek, or Python. It's baffling and frankly I'm envious. [Note: my partner does this, too, but he has debilitating levels of ADHD.]

It's pretty well known that after hearing a song a couple times, I will know most lyrical content, compositional elements, and somehow also know the title, band, album, and sometimes approx release year. There's also a tab in my brain that is constantly open and running a Shazam adjacent program that scans for song lyrics in any context, and upon finding some... or any it autocompletes the song in my head. Or if i'm tired/not paying attention, it does this out loud. My partner started playing a game without telling me. He will spontaneously start playing a song from youtube on his phone and if I name the band and song before the chorus I win. He recently upped this by tossing random song lyrics into conversation to see if I continue the song from that lyric. I only figured out what he was doing because living here I also learned that not everyone listens to music like I do.... almost constantly. He and the kids watch/listen to youtubers of various types, so him playing music was out of the ordinary and I asked about it.

[Less fun automatic brain function is that I am hyperaware of my surroundings along with the people in them and my brain unconsciously stores the behavior patterns of people I spend time with allowing me to seem like I can predict the future via knowing what they are looking for without them saying anything or showing up with a cup of tea when they are about to make one. This one is less fun because sometimes it creeps people out and also my brain is like this from spending my first 1.5 decades raised by hateful narcissistic people who also had personality/mood disorders. it was a survival skill. ]

The last weird thing is that when asked if I've seen an object, my brain basically pulls up an image of the object, then slowly zooms out to reveal the context in which I last saw it. Doesn't matter how long it's been, the photo in my brain is very detailed and exact. It can also summon other memories in a similar fashion. It has become slightly less reliable as the unrelenting pain of existing during my 39 years on earth with my Unbreakable Ancestral Curse has impacted my brain in ways I wasn't prepared for. IE it fucks up my memory, some motor function, and sometimes just gives me static for a couple days. 0/10 stars for the curse. Then again, I live with 4 people who all have severe ADHD and 3 of whom are kids, so stuff gets moved for no reason a bunch making my recall less reliable simply because shit is no longer as static as I'm accustomed to.

ANYWAY, it was just an interesting thing I was musing on after my partner walking in to me petting the dogs to the drumline of a Slipknot song, looking confused and asking "Didn't you play bass because your parents wouldn't let you play drums?" Which... yeah. That's 100% true. But my brain is a weird sponge and I love music, especially shit with great drums. I've been listening to a lot of Gojira lately. You should too if you are into metal or just really talented drummers.

It's nice to know that my OS still confounds my partner despite being besties for 10 yrs and living together for 2.

[note: before you comment/ask, yes I've been assessed by neuropsych and various run of the mill psychs repeatedly over the years. medically neurotypical and mentally sound, just real fucking weird for numerous reasons.]

[troglobite]

kljfaksd

question for my irl friends is this

did you grow up w ppl pretending to be your friend as a joke, or fake asking you out (or alternatively, being The Only One to NOT be asked out, making it a spectacle w an audience), or ppl taking advantage of you for their own gain, often by means of making you think they liked you?

were the majority of your friends randos from other actual friend groups who thought you were funny or useful or entertaining, and so, bc you had no other recognizable Group to hang out with, they basically took pity on you?

did you stop getting invited to parties after the age at which inviting everyone in class became obsolete?

were you called, a million times by a million different ppl in a million different circumstances, annoying? not in subtext, not through guesswork or anxiety brain. literally, to your face, called annoying by so many people, including friends. at all stages of your life. regardless of what personality and behavioral changes were made to try and STOP being annoying.

bc basically if not that really explains why everyone ignores basically everything i say, and no one wants to talk to me unless i 1. can be a charity case 2. am providing something for them that they like.

yes, this includes even when i ask them how they're doing or what's up, or specifically bring up something that they enjoy and expressed interest in discussing.

the charity case thing comes out HARD when i mention being the only one in the discord. or being alone. and wanting to hang out w my friends. or being disabled and sad. or when i express any emotion for which the correct and desired response is comfort.

there's just a lot of incongruity between 'you're the best dm! and a great friend! you're great and we love you!' and fucking radio silence and being ignored for weeks on end.

like i am. going Through It. and no one has offered to check in. and i stopped complaining/seeking comfort bc no one wanted to provide it.

and i haven't checked in on anyone directly because i have told them i don't do that because i know they're busy. and also bc trying to do so in the past yielded basically no results and made me apparently even more annoying. i have communicated this more than once, that i deliberately don't check in directly on purpose bc i know they're busy. and the discord is THERE FOR THEM TO USE, TOO. even when i'm using it regularly, i'm not in it CONSTANTLY. and when they DO use it, i respond!!!

so i check in in other ways, by bringing up interesting or important or funny things, or things that i think specific ppl will find funny or interesting.

still. nothing.

and every time i mention this during the rare fucking moments that we actually hang out on zoom, it's just a chorus shouting me down of how it's not intentional or personal.

okay. sure. thanks.

now can we get to the part where we collaboratively figure out how to make sure i DON'T feel like RANCID SHIT bc you guys are modeling the EXACT behaviors of my 'friends' and bullies throughout my entire fucking life?

or how abt when we're hanging out for the sake of my mental health--which they encouraged, which i asked for, and they obliged--i basically end up third wheeling it. nobody talking to me. nobody playing games w me. they're just playing bg3 with each other, not including me, and talking not consistently loud enough for the mic to pick up, and abt shit and ppl i've never heard of and trying to catch me up is just annoying. like a hang out that was supposed to make me feel better just makes me feel infinitely worse.

or how in any hang out ppl basically just never want to let me experience a breadth of emotions, or share abt my life, or any of that shit. i ask abt theirs and express genuine interest bc i do genuinely care. and i listen to conversations go on around me, sometimes with me. but somehow when talking i just fuck up and am annoying and my life isn't interesting and if i talk abt it i'm just sad and annoying and sucking up all the air in the room.

idfk man. everybody has their own issues and trauma but every time we talk abt childhood stuff in school i'm the only one who's met w like. Sad Silence. i'm the only one w nothing to share bc i can't/don't relate bc my childhood was just being bullied. constantly.

and somehow the ones who experienced some negativity had groups of cool or fun friends and they got through it that way.

i couldn't bc my friends were also the bullies. idk man it's 4 am i'm sad and tired and my hand still isn't fully healed and i should stop typing.

idr why i started thinking abt this. but something just. reminded me. anyway.

i guess i'm just tired of it being 'that's just an anxious thought that's irrational :)'

when it's like. no. my literal FRIENDS throughout my ENTIRE LIFE have told me TO MY FACE repeatedly that I AM ANNOYING. i have been ostracized or punished or ignored or mocked or gaslit. i was bullied basically my entire childhood and past that, it was pity and self-defense that kept me with any semblance of friends.

even to ppl who hsould've been or said they were my closest friends, i am. just not that important ultimately.

i'm tired of not being a priority in anybody's life. i matter so little. and i'm so tired and so jaded and so TIRED. SO FUCKING TIRED. that i don't WANT to start over. i don't WANT to try and make new friends i'm TIRED.

making friends is literally a SOURCE OF FUCKING TRAUMA. straight up i remember my first day in fucking preschool vividly bc i'm so inherently bad at making friends. and it just set the tone for the rest of my life.

so i don't want to. i've tried many different ways to be friends. i've spent a lot of energy. and right now i feel insane and evil and selfish and cruel for being like.

i just want to prioritize myself.

bc it feels like maybe that's all i've done my entire fucking life. and i;m just a narcissistic (dsm not involved, just a descriptor/adj) piece of shit whos self-pitying and unselfaware and refuses to change.

but it FEELS like ive tried changing a lot over the course of my life.

idk. im just at a stage in my life where i want friends and relationships. but the daily upkeep is a lot. i want casual conversations and check ins. not huge obligations. i want to work up to that. bc the thought of someone depending on me feels awful and like too much. like id run away from it.

but i want friends.

and i guess. i guess i DO sort of try to maintain friendships in my own way and it just. doesnt matter. bc they dont try to maintain them with ME. they just. assume/know/take for granted that i'll be there. bc of course i will. im lonely and desperate.

and the last time i tried setting boundaries and asking for support in specific ways, it blew up in my face and i ended up losing all my friends.

and now im just stuck. taking care of health stuff. being sad and miserable. doing work. playing catch up. i dont have the time energy or physical ability to gameplan. or have a complete dialogue w the player who blew things up for me at the dnd table.

im exhausted. im literally freshly traumatized (recently discovered when i had a literal autonomic nervous system trauma reaction). im tired. and id just like support.

but asking for it directly got me nothing. asking indirectly got me nothing. so im just. not even trying anymore.

and it feels awful to say that its a test for them to see if they even notice or care that im not present in the discord or talking to any of them anymore. but like. it is part of it. its secondary to the main part which is that:

it feels awful, like gut-wrenchingly fucking awful to be sharing bits abt your life, sharing things you love and WANT to share, sharing things to entice others into convo, sending things bc they made you think of them, and to receive fucking silence in return.

or the occasional pity reply.

and when even those pity replies taper off and stop? like fuck, man.

'they're busy and have things going on!'

i know. that's the problem. everything else, for every single one of those ppl, ranks higher in priority than me. including other relationships. i dont get to be on par with any of that.

meanwhile in terms of friendships, they are my TOP priority.

but its not reciprocated.

so at some point its like. why would i keep following the annoying as fuck advice abt like 'dont stop reaching out, theyll be glad you did!'

bc its clearly just not true for me and any of my irl friends. and never has been and never will be.

its not even bc of covid, ive just. never been anyones serious priority. or a treasured friendship. and when i have, like ONCE, it fizzled out bc of other ppl who ended up being more important.

and i dont mean this in a 'i have to be the only person in your life' way

you can have MULTIPLE priorities, all of differing levels and grouped in different ways

but being grouped in the same way but not receiving the same priority or care. like. thats what sucks.

and then like. specifically this one friendship im thinking abt, i was there for her through SO MUCH SHIT. i worked my ass off to make sure i was threading the needle on being supportive and not pushing her. and i wanted her safe and happy.

and ultimately it was for nought bc abusive relationships are like that

bc to be told 'i want you to share more with me and be vulnerable with me' and then

i do it. i literally did it.

and like. on the one hand, maybe she needed practice. but on the other hand.

if you do this with your other friends, why are you SO UNCOMFORTABLE with me being vulnerable? why are you SO INCAPABLE of LISTENING to me and understanding what im saying and where im coming from? and offering ANY support?

and like fuck that, man, ive literally MODELED for you like 'waht do you need/what would you like from me?' type shit so just ASK ME

and then to now be trying to set up a zoom hangout session and for her to keep putting it off and saying shes busy and she cant and blah blah blah

im tired. im tired of being taken for granted. of not being a priority. of not mattering.

of also--not being privy to anyones lives! to do so, i have to PULL TEETH to get answers/replies from them, or i have to find out abt it second or third hand in a group hangout session.

im tired of being the one to reach out. to check in. to try and have convos. to ask for support. to set up hang out times and games. of being the only one doing like WORK for this dnd campaign. of having to manage all this shit.

im tired of not mattering. of being so low on the list of priorities.

im tired of trying a million things to try and fix myself and my behavior--both in unhealthy and supposedly really healthy ways.

and still running up against the same shit. idk what to do anymore. and im tired. im tired of trying. of putting myself out there. i dont want to. im tired and im scared and i have every fucking right to be.

and i dont want ppl to tell me but i HAVE to if i dont want to be lonely anymore.

ive tried all your fucking suggestions and nothing seems to work longterm.

the only times i ever hate myself? it's not when im alone w myself. i can be alone w myself. i can admit my good and my bad. i can recognize my insecurities.

but when i hate myself? its when im a direct inconvenience and annoyance to ppl who say they care abt me. its when i feel or observe that i am making the lives of these ppl i care abt, harder and worse.

i dont need to work on self love or self compassion. ive done that. thats not the problem.

i am traumatized and people WONT STOP FUCKING RE-TRAUMATIZING ME.

at what point do i just get to throw my hands up and say THIS IS YOUR FUCKING PROBLEM, NOW. IVE DONE MY WORK. I'LL KEEP DOING MY WORK. BUT FUCKING CHRIST ALIVE WHY CANT YOU ACT LIKE YOU EVEN LIKE ME AT ALL???

i just think it would be impossible for anyone to be me and not come out thinking 'jfc there is something fundamentally wrong w me that everybody can pick up on and HATES, and idk how to find it and fix it despite trying for 30 years'

i make mistakes. i know theyre mistakes. im working on mending mistakes without shame. like im not a perfect and enlgihtened individual, im just working on things.

but i cant work on my own shit and magically live in a world where ppl dont fucking hate me. or use me. or ignore me. or find me deeply annoying.

idk i guess its late and im spiraling and im just tired. im fucking tired. ive been inside and alone and these past like 9, 10 days without being able to properly use my hand, so i couldnt work or do chores or game plan or talk to ppl at lenght like. idk. i guess it made everything worse.

im not even currently sobbing or melting down. im just tired.

and i guarantee my stupid fucking hand is gonna be SO fucked up tomorrow. not even using my pinky to type. but it hurts.

whatever.

[hermitcatlongposts]

Huevember Afterwords and reference images

First and foremost I wanna say that this was the best decision to go on this epic journey. In case any stranger is gonna be reading this. I'm not some high quality, soulless corporation like blogger who writes very formal essay and only states facts and minimal subjective opinion to maximize inoffensiveness and minimize risk of boring the reader. I'm just gonna ramble on and on like a discord chat at 3AM.

Alright, I have MANY things to talk about on each artwork. The format will be "picture above, comment below". Remember to click on it to zoom, I mean, if my doodly little doodles are worth zooming.

Ah, the starter of it all. Mossy boi. I don't even know what "moss" is. Is it a bush? grass? vines? leaves? I just saw the enemies in HollowKnight that has "moss" in their name and took their design principle. Whatever a moss is, can you even make a cloak out of it? I think it's like "twin drill" hairstyle seen in anime and anime only. Twin drills are non-euclidean eldrich horror that cannot exist in our mortal realm. I don't know why but I specially love how one boot is wrapped in leaves in order to give interesting asymmetry. I love a design where asymmetry is achieved by an actual object that make you go "what's that?" instead of just abstract shape and/or color.

A knight eerily adorned with thorny vines. When I saw myself drawing a knight in full plate armor, the random phrase "A Knight in a Shining Armor" just kept swirling in my head and I couldn't help but decide to just add highlights to it without any knowledge about how it works. But that was a catalyst for me to go out into the world of SHADING! Only, woefully underequipped to actually do it with any amount of correctness at all. You can see that I added the thorns at the last moment which was a brilliant idea.

A scout of Fragrant Goddess faction. Now, you might immediately see that this character's name refers to something that belongs outside the canvas she's drawn on. I couldn't come up with any self contained adjective like previous two but just naming her "a scout" or worse, "an archer" would be pretty demeaning to all the effort I put into bringing her into existence. So I thought I might just start building my extended fantasy world from today. She's an scout of a faction that serves an illusive goddess by that name.

Perhaps it's pathetic that it takes so little to make me feel proud of myself. But the way I used the power of imagination to remove her skirt (because I didn't like how bulky and rigid it is) makes me feel good about myself that I do in fact have at least a couple brain cells. But now comes a problem. Look at all the GOLDEN pieces in this art. You know, I don't know shit about fuck. I just grabbed the colors: brown, yellow and white and just scribbled about on her shoulder plate and it accidentally turned out so amazing. And that made me determined to actually try to shade every art onwards. Which made this series both fun, interesting and painful.

Hunter of the defiant I'm gonna be honest, the reference this time didn't really help that much. Now, I'm not a writer at all. I don't think I wrote really anything. I have a clear memory of getting F every time we needed to write essays in school. So I don't have any fantastic plan for a game/world that revolves around the concept of afterlife and ushers of departing souls. Regardless, I brainstormed an idea for this character: Outside the mortal realm, there is a great river that carries the souls of the deceased like a driftwood into whatever is on the other side. But sometimes, whether by choice, accident, or meddling of others, a soul fails to go onto the river and remain in the mortal world as a "ghost", which is usually not a good thing to happen. Someone must correct those mistakes. I gave that name because the character in this artwork is a special subclass of grim reaper who deals with those who willingly become a ghost. Which is a heresy against whatever policy I will come up with when time comes. Probably in 10 years.

Crumbled golem knight. This one was way too much of a "biting off more than you can chew" moment. How do I paint a rock? No one knows. All the tutorials I watched were just: "lol just draw it. Now look at me in awe at how good of an artist I am as I just silently paint without explaining anything" It's seems to be one of the things every artist just have to learn through raw instinct at some point in their life. This went completely out of my meagre little zone of cartoony characters with thick outlines and extremely minimal shading.

Assault sorcerer knight. This is in fact my proudest one from this series. (yes, we will talk about "that" next) It's because the reference art is used only for a mere pose and everything else is my honest prowess.

Just look at how much shading is done for him compared to the first one. Also in much bigger resolution. See, every time I drew something, I always had my canvas in very low resolution. For example, the first 4 art is 800x1000 pixels. I do not know what compels me to do that. 99% of my time is spent on basically being a pixel artist and I realized how unnecessarily counterproductive it is when I was drawing the grim reaper. A borderline pixel art is fine normally but when I rotate the canvas, staring at a bunch of rotated pixels is incredibly icky. So, Sorcerer knight catalyzes bigger canvas size of 1600x2000 pixels.

The "That". This. Is. A. PROBLEM. You see, I got so mesmerized by the absolute paragon of beauty in front of me and just ended up tracing literally everything. The archer one was ok because the design itself, specially after I removed the imposing skirt, is pretty humble. But this one has all this majestically flowing stuff like the cape, the robe, the hair and handsome face. I would not even start to begin to come close to the fraction of the 0.01% of all the folds that the reference art has. It was a not a "reference" but a full on "tracing". But this one is fine. Honestly I can be positive and say that this is a very personal and intimate (because I even though it's a trace, it's a fact that I brought about everything on the canvas with my own hands) milestone as an artist. I could look at it and get inspired to work towards one day being able to recreate it genuinely. Ah, but so far away. I need to learn how to pose a human body, basic level anatomy, face (which is an entire world on it's own), hair, flowing fabric, folds, shadows & highlights. As shameful it might be to trace, this one is fine because he's a knight. And I'm willing to draw any knight at any given time. But the next one, the final would-be one is were the real real problem comes in.

It's not about the act of tracing but more about having to trace to begin with. I didn't want to finish it because I never wanted to draw this. See, the problem with this whole tracing thing is that it's straight up impossible to find the perfect source art that matches the idea you had in mind. Remember how in the previous post where I presented you the order in which I tackle the huevember palettes and I put the yellow one last because I said I wanted that to be the best? Sadly the idea was too big for me to just bring it up on my own like I did the crumbled golem and sorcerer knight. Neither could I find any reference art that would be anywhere close to it. After scrolling for like 3 hours straight I got so tired and pissed at wasted time and just picked random one and tried to call the huevember challenge done. But the absolute dissonance between what I always wanted to draw from before the start of the challenge and whatever the random ass anime girl I was tracing and haphazardly coloring was too much to bear. And here ends my huevember. Alright with that said, just in case you might've forgot or you're a newcomer to my shenanigans not knowing it, tracing is not what I'll be doing in the future and it never was planned to. In fact, this is definitively the last time I trace. I've been tracing in order to just have fun, take a little mental break from insurmountable work of making a game and prepare my hands for what's to come when I begin my artist journey. After I finish my game I will take my time to formally study art. I don't mean like years and years until I become like Leonardo da Vinci. Just two or three months to reach the most basic level of body structure, posing, shading and folds of fabric for the purpose of drawing my very own original characters. Because making a video game is my main purpose. I'm not an "artist" artist, I draw only for myself and my games, nor a "programmer" programmer. Plus this challenge really made me learn the painful way just how soul crushing it is to spends hours trying to find a perfect picture to use as reference/trace. Surprise! Google is not a genie that magically gives you the perfect thing you have in your mind. Pretty far from it, actually. Ok, that's all. If you're here, I'm shacking and crying in gratitude for you caring about me. oh yeah people nowadays use AI to generate a perfect reference image for them, don't they. AI can gargle my nuts.