#stoytelling

[xarrixii]

Chapter_19 : "Trust Fall"

reader discretion is advised, please read through the warnings on this chapter before reading.

TW: depictions of borderline child abuse

CW: emotional meltdown, mentions of pills, depictions of shouting, depictions of crying, negative self-talk, arguing, mention of a pedophile, + potentially more

Alph (or Raiden) uses they/them pronouns Harlow (or Urban) uses he/him pronouns previous chapter | beginning | masterlist

/ / / / / | ---

There was a crash.

Harlow fought off the urge to swing himself around, unsuccessful in his attempt to keep his heart rate steady as well. The crash was followed by a groaned out “fuck” and it took everything Harlow had not to look to the adjacent seat to his left. It failed.

It wasn’t the first time someone had tried to sit next to him in the library and have a conversation. With years of self-schooling came a lot of curious adults and less than sensitive kids.

“Hey. Uh⸺You know, I wasn’t really planning on, hmm.” Raiden waved from the floor. The chair’s base frame was still together, but everything else had fallen right through. Including its unknowing passenger. The chairs had been broken and breaking for the past three years after a school donated them to the underfunded library, some still half wet. Harlow had helped unpack them from the truck, not caring enough to ask about it.

For a nine-year-old, that mostly meant holding open the door.

Harlow stifled a laugh. “Are you okay?”

“I was warned that the chairs sucked. I just—y’know. Didn’t care.”

The silence that unfolded after made Harlow realize how stupid he must look. A dilapidated pair of earbuds and a pdf file filled with something about the recent history of kinetics research.

“You’re alright, though?”

“Oh I’m, great down here. It’s been like”—Raiden started to count their fingers—“a month since I’ve seen you. Since you didn’t come with anyone to the gamecon, I assumed you must have walked, and then I remembered you saying you studied down here at the library, so I’ve been very inconspicuously coming down here to ‘study.’ ”

Harlow had to consider that for a moment before snickering and then shutting himself up. That’s impolite. Don’t fucking do that. “Are you the ‘rambunctious weirdo’ they were talking about when I got here?”

Raiden raised their eyebrows from the floor. “Who’s they?”

“The librarians. The two ladies who would see you come in, do nothing for like, an hour, and then leave.”

“I knew they despised me. And what’s rambunctious about watching police chases on my school-issued laptop in a library? Do I get no privacy from gossip?” Raiden accepted their fate on the floor with planks of chair wood under their back. “You must come here pretty often for them to talk to you. I couldn’t get them to talk to me more than ‘careful with the chairs.’ ”

He blinked a few times. Started taking in the situation.

“Wait, you were looking for me? Deliberately?”

“Uh, yeah. Who wouldn’t?...” Harlow de-focused as Raiden kept talking. My mother. “Hello? Earth to Urban, master of kinetics and warfare? He who shunned himself from the world? Raiden’s sparring⸺”

“Sorry.”

Raiden squinted. Harlow had a sudden urge to change the subject.

Luckily, Raiden did it for him, “So you only study once a month? Man, maybe I should ask to be homeschooled too.”

“No. No,” Harlow started before looking at the way Raiden’s face twisted. “I mean, I study more than once a month. It’s usually, usually at least twice a week if I can. I’ve just had, uh, had other commitments for a while.”

Raiden grinned.

Somehow, it broke a smile out of Harlow’s face. “What?”

“I know a really good arcade downtown,” Raiden said. Harlow saw the social calculations flitting through their eyes. Something else, too, that he couldn’t explain.

Screw it. “Sounds like fun.”

“...Do you hate me?”

Alph’s mouth immediately soured after they said the words. They’d been riding on the thought for a couple weeks, all the confidence in the world trying and failing to give them the push to say it. In the end, their dad was the one who told them to just get it out before anything got any worse.

Urban’s step faltered in front of them.

They could barely see it through the waning moonlight, the light that had to fight to make it through the crack of the alley. Alph suddenly wanted to keel over and ask him to forget about it, but they knew that wouldn’t happen.

“No,” Urban said quietly. “I don’t.”

Something about that didn’t feel right, and Alph began talking before registering that they were while clenching their fist, “I don’t know. Like, there’ll be times when you text me back instantly, and we talk for hours about something random. Or, you’ll text right after you’re done doing whatever. But sometimes it’ll take, like, a week, and you won’t elaborate on it. Like I, I did something and you didn’t want to tell me. It took you a whole month, back in March.”

He went silent. Deathly still, lost in thought as he so often was.

Looking for some sort of lie.

“Do, am, am I doing something wrong?” Alph cringed at their voice cracking on ‘wrong.’

“It’s... complicated. I’m not supposed to bring it up.”

“There,” Alph exasperated without thinking. “Right there, you’re lying again. I just⸺ I’ll leave you alone if you want me to, okay? You don’t have to feel guilty about the phone, or anything. I’ll walk away if you want me to.”

Urban took a deep breath. “I don’t want you to walk away, I just...” Alph braced for it again. “Let’s go get that ice cream?”

Alph bore their eyes into the back of Urban’s skull. Urban sighed when Alph continued not to respond, putting a hand into his front pocket. Their fist unraveled in silence. Maybe Alph just got so wrapped up in nice pretty boy they forgot to actually use their brain.

“...Rai?” Urban prodded.

“I understand if you don’t want to talk about this. Believe me, I didn’t want to either. But it worried me. And now it, I think it just hurts.”

“It’s not...” Urban stuttered, “I don’t, it’s not you, okay? You’re fine. It’s something else entirely. You don’t have to worry about it. It’s my problem alone. It—can we forget about it?”

Alph puts a hand in their hair and moves it up for it to aimlessly fall back down to where it was. “If it’s not me, then what is it?”

Urban couldn’t answer that.

“So it’s me. Alright. I understand.” Alph took that finality and turned to walk back down the alley, back to their bike to pedal home and throw some object at a wall.

“It’s not you!” Urban yells. When Alph turns back to look at him, he’d turned to look at Alph. Their heart panged as Urban bit down his volume, “It’s not you.”

“Then who is it, Urb? You won’t even tell me your real name, and I’m supposed to think you’re telling the truth right now? I mean, shit, what kind of friends are we if we don’t know each other’s names? What if you got seriously hurt and I didn’t know your information for the ambulance? That’s not even safe!”

Alph had raised their arms in wild gesticulation, realizing enough in the silence that followed to drop them with lazy disbelief.

Urban’s mouth opened to speak, then clamped shut again. Alph laughed.

“You know how proud you are of your father?” Urban said at a little above a whisper. Alph nodded. “How he saves kids? How he gives them a, a chance to learn how to control their kinetic? How at the faintest call, he gets sent out to help adults the same way? So they’re not a, what, a danger? How you keep saying, ‘I’m gonna be just like my dad when I’m older?’ ”

“What does this have to do with⸺”

Urban ignored Alph’s intervention, still half-mumbling. “No, I know you know. I don’t know why I even asked. You want to help kids, you love the idea of saving everyone by stuffing their hands into some metal crib for a while. The hand⸺”

“Kinetic handcuffs,” Alph finishes.

“⸺binders.” Urban’s entire body stiffens. His voice raises and turns sharp. “They’re hand binders. That’s what they fucking are, and you refuse to admit it. You can’t even fathom the idea. You know what,” Urban laughs, sniffling, “all of you refuse to admit it. I don’t think there’s a single person on this fucked up trashcan of a world that wants to.”

“The kinetic handcuffs⸺”

“Binders,” Urban corrects.

Alph fights the urge to bite down. “The kinetic binders are used on people who either deserve or need them. Criminals, awakened kids, unruly pyrokinetics, you know, the ones that put everyone in danger. Those pyros.”

“I’m pyrokinetic, Raiden!” Urban lets out a bemused huff, suddenly yelling. “Is that what you fucking wanted? That what you wanted me to fucking say? I’m one of those fucked up, unruly kids that wield flame you like to put in a cage so damn much. The one that helps kids.”

Alph shut up fast.

“You want to know where I disappear to so often for weeks? Congratulations, you fucking won. You finally beat me at your sick game. Rehab. I go to rehab because that’s the only place that people like you think I belong. It’s where you all shove everyone you don’t want. Oh, shove their hands in some metal, stretching, what the fuck is that? Eat with your mouth like some kind of dog because God forbid you deserve human decency. Why would you ever want to chance that some class-D child would suddenly spring up flame from their fingertips like some maniac that should be in prison? I sat next to a murderer once at lunch. They put me next to a pedophile once. We’re all pyrokinetic, so why would that matter?”

Urban looked into Alph’s eyes, like he was searching for something. Some sort of acknowledgment before he set off to laughing. And then crying.

“We’re all monsters! That’s what it is, we’re all just monsters. And you praise everyone who does it to them, does it to me. But you are the only FUCKING person that I have, and I keep lying, and lying, and changing the god-damned subject because I am so, so afraid you will leave.” He wipes tears out of his eyes that get quickly replaced through choked sobbing. “What do you want from me?”

Alph didn’t move. They couldn’t. They didn’t have anything to say.

“I have to cover up my hands and arms so nobody can see the cuff burns. I have to sit alone in a library and read pdf articles because I’m too much of a danger to be sent to school. I taught myself to sew metal catches onto jeans with my mouth when I was seven because I got so sick of unbuttoning and buttoning my own fucking pants! I learned to bow my head and let children wring their hands around my neck so they could get off the fucking floor!

“I was the only one I had. Nobody has me but myself in that hellhole. My hands are considered more dangerous for me to have than a rusted sawblade because I am a mistake!” Urban jabbed his index finger into his chest. “I can’t ever use my own fucking kinetic in public without being a mistake! You minus well change the term to pyromaniac because that’s all I fucking am to you people.

“If this is what you wanted to hear, then fine. I’ll go back to being the one nobody wanted again. I will go back to helping myself, I will go back to choking on pills, and I will go back to being a mistake because I have always been, and will always, always be a mistake.”

Alph jumped back when a white-blue flame erupted out of Urban’s hand, engulfing each finger in a warm hug. Urban’s volume dropped, struggling again to keep his voice low and steady. The word mistake continued to slice through the air.

“So yes, I’m fine. I am fine and it is definitely not you. I am a mistake.”

Alph watched the swinging of the fire as it followed Urban’s hand to his side. A stray cat jumped out of a nearby box with a disgruntled meow and bounded off toward the street.

I’m sorry refused to leave Alph’s throat. It lodged in there in the disbelief that they hadn’t noticed the signs any sooner. The flame confined to Urban’s hand with a melted-in precision slowed to orange.

Urban followed Alph’s gaze down to his hand.

He freaked out. Slammed down his reaction with all the composure he had left, tried to wave his own fire away. Horrified. Took one last look at Alph.

“This was a mistake.” Urban ran off after barely scraping out in a cried whisper, being enveloped into the dark as Alph stood upright, suddenly very, very alone.

“Thanks,” Alph muttered to the woman at the front desk. She waved as they walked away, still pulling the Visitor Pass lanyard over their head. Alph was not aware of the almost prison-like security detail around the entire thing.

The first time they’d tried, Alph had been stopped at the door asking for their ID. They had pulled out their school ID, but the security guard shook his head and said Alph needed one commenting on their kinetic, not just their name. Alph had snapped a small flame into their hand as evidence enough, but the guard shook his head again.

The second time, Alph returned with their evaluated awakening ID after scrambling through their dad’s safe to find it. Their last class evaluation was the awakening itself five years ago.

So they let Alph in, and then Alph had to demonstrate their pyrokinesis in a controlled room. They upgraded them from C to B and said they’d issue out a new ID in the mail sometime in the next month.

Then they had to call their dad while he was at work for proof of parental consent to be walking into what all the guards around called the ‘prison zone.’

Now that Alph had the visitor pass, “What’s your purpose for visiting the Center...” the person standing guard in front of the prison zone door asked, one hand resting on a sharpie in her belt. She looked at their visitor pass. “Alph?”

“I’m here to see a friend of mine,” Alph replied tiredly.

“What’s their name?” She took out a notepad from her belt and hastily wrote down visit friend in big sharpie letters.

“Harlow Collins.” Alph had seen the name too many times on their computer screen to forget it.

She looked warily at Alph before scribbling that down, too, and then the time.

“Everything you do is being monitored and you need to leave by two oh seven. Have fun, he’s in cell—room 170.”

Upon stepping into the completely silent cafeteria, Alph had the urge to fiddle with their lanyard incessantly. They failed to fight it, walking across the open hallway side the slowest they’ve ever walked.

Alph had two hours. Most of the people behind the doors had weeks.

How did Alph dodge this?

Was it by pulling a fire alarm? For standing in January cold for an hour with all their classmates as firemen cleared the whole building? For almost getting suspended for pulling it?

Alph groaned to themself halfheartedly. In all the time Alph had seen Urban—no, Harlow as a friend, he hadn’t ever used fire until Alph fucked up and prodded when they didn’t have to. This is Alph’s fault. Harlow was in here right now because Alph pushed him to think that.

They hated that they knew Harlow would turn himself in. He didn’t seem to know how to put out the fire he’d generated. Probably ran all the way here asking them to bind him.

Fucking idiot, Alph yelled at themself while watching a kid try to push open his sliding door with thick metal joining his arms together. Alph pulled it open for him. Couldn’t have been much older than eight.

With a deep breath, Alph finally made it to room 170. Hesitated to knock.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me,” Alph croaked.

Silence. Alph opened the door, still unsure what to say.

“Hhh-eyh,” was the best Harlow offered for them. “Fli-ip th’ lan.”

They listened to him before stepping inside the room boundary and closing the door behind them. It was mostly bare. Harlow had a cheap sewing kit out with a few scattered paperclips and a threaded needle poking out from his mouth. One knee was committed to holding a pair of pants that were way too small for him up near the needle.

Alph swallowed. “That was a dick move. That I did.”

Harlow hummed.

“And I’m sorry.”

He stabbed the needle through the pair of jeans and pulled out the point from the other side, still with his mouth. A bent paperclip was half-tied to the area where a button had clearly been. A button that was lying discarded on the floor.

“Fuh wh-at?” Harlow eventually said.

“I investigated you,” Alph breathed out, “for starters. I probably shouldn’t have done that. There’s a lot of things I probably shouldn’t have done. One of those was show up here uninvited, I think. They kind of just assumed you’d be comfortable seeing me at the door.”

Harlow’s gaze landed on Alph awkwardly standing near the door. “Sit.”

Alph took care not to sit on top of anything important on the bed beside him. “I think what I’m, uh, I think... no. I was being an inconsiderate asshole. A very, very very⸺”

“I geh ih.” Harlow shrugs. “Yeuh neeh⸺ wuh-n se-ck.”

The sewing needle falls out of his mouth, hitting the jeans on the way down to settle between the hand binders around Harlow’s hands.

He frowns. “You weren’t ever taught otherwise. That, yeah, maybe there’s some other ethics or, something. I just, I’m bad with confrontation. And you needed an answer, so I guess I just... blew up.”

“I should’ve known better to just leave it be. The pyrokinesis... I had no idea.”

“Nobody ever told you what happens in here. I’m not even sure your dad knows. Shit, sorry. He probably doesn’t know either. He just knows what his job description is, and that we get trained on control in here.” Harlow seemed to consider something else, but chose not to say it. “You believe you’re helping people, or, going to in your case, so you don’t... consider more than that.”

Alph leans back, letting their head hit the wall. “Yeah.”

“I guess I was a little afraid of telling you that everything you looked up to was just... a lie.”

“I’m such⸺”

“An ass. You don’t have to keep saying so.”

Alph bit their lip, bringing their hands back to the lanyard to mess with it again. Let their head fall onto the stiff mattress.

“For the record,” they sighed out, “on the way in here, there was this kid. Couldn’t have been older than eight.”

“Lukas?”

“I don’t know. Blonde. Small. Scared. The point is, he couldn’t even open his door. Who knows how long he’d been trying to open it? How many people just walked by without helping?”

“That’s my fault. I skipped lunch,” Harlow lamented.

“The point is,” Alph said again, louder, “I don’t want ‘sending people to rehab is a good idea’ to be a lie. When I was looking for you in rehab records at the station this morning, I thought it over. I want to change something. Change this. I don’t think you’re a monster, or a mistake, and I don’t want other kids to grow up thinking that they are. I don’t want, shit, I don’t want anyone to get stuck for half an hour trying to open a stupid sliding door. I want people to get trained instead of trapped.”

Harlow clears his throat. “If you’re willing to try, then I’ll support you all the way.”

“As long as you tell me, straight up, when I’m being a dumbass.”

He laughs. “Alright.”

Alph took a minute to let everything sink in. “Hey, Harlow⸺”

“Don’t,” Harlow inhaled sharply. “Don’t call me Harlow. I... We can stay as Urban and Raiden. Until I can associate it with something that’s not this. This, renamed detention center.”

“Okay.”

Another minute.

“I should show you something.”

“Show me what?”

Alph took the lanyard visitor card they’d printed for them, covering up their name and showing the rest of the side Har—Urban told them to hide. Pointed at the text.

“I’m also a pyrokinetic.”

Urban stared at the lanyard. Then he smiled.

“They’re gonna send me out for leave, tomorrow,” Urban said. “My hands will still be bound, but if you can get through my mother we can probably, I don’t know. Watch a movie, at least. Maybe you can show off.”

“What’s your address?” Alph laughed.

next chapter | masterlist

/ / / / / | --- missing a content warning? let me know

when i set out to rewrite this chapter (that i felt was previously lackluster of its original intent), i wasn't hoping to make it so significantly longer. all three sections have additions, and changes, all intended to draw out the awkwardness and the hurt i originally imagined while writing it the first time.

i hope it was much, much clearer for you as well when Harlow's voice rose and fell.

the old chapter can be found here and also on the old chapter archive

all feedback on my writing is appreciated

taglist: @lychhiker-writes, @madeoforgansandtissues, @fins0up

[michelangelob]

Borromini e Bernini: la sfida alla perfezione visibile online

Il docu film “Borromini e Bernini” che è stato proposto nelle sale a maggio 2023, finalmente è disponibile online. Il lavoro cinematografico racconta la rivoluzione architettonica e il genio solitario del Borromini che cambiò per sempre l’aspetto di Roma attraverso una sfida personale alle convenzioni e ai pregiudizi, con l’umiltà di apprendere dal passato per inventare il futuro, con il…

[socialbunny]

bro its so fucked up but its so funny that angela and lilith’s birthdays are on the same day but they only threw the party for angela and only got one cake and then told lilith to sit out in the living room while they have the party and NOBODY else said anything

[crimson--corvid]

ooc :: Sorry I've been gone for so long! I'm sill battling writer's block. But since some pretty big stuff happened in the RPC here I'm going to make a post regarding it.

I no longer associate my muse (on this account or any others I play) with the-blackened-dove or any of their attached muses. Any canon involving them has been retconned or modified to match new canon.

[ziskeyt]

anyone got caps of the thread? if you don't have xitter it's just the first tweet it'll allow you to see. and thanks, op, for the explanation there about how it works in gamedev! i never wanted to go into writing games, but i have a degree in writing, a background in writing, and i honestly. honestly. have been so uninterested in totk since i played it because of how disjointed and half-assed the story felt. and oh, look. it was.

Oh my fucking god??? I *knew* there was something fishy with no writers/quest designers being credited. Also: outsourcing is not an excuse not to credit the gamedevs doing hard and deserving work.

This is genuinely contemptful towards everyone involved, gamedevs and players alike. I am actually outraged now.

[smileyfacemojisworld]

EAH questionnaire to get to know each EAH fan better

Fav character from both genders and side, mine is Briar, Dexter, Cerise and Hunter

Character that you look most like, mine is a cross between Briar and Cerise (coincidence?)

Character whose personality you’re most like, mine is Lizzie

Favourite ship, mine is Daring X Cerise

Favourite Special Edition, mine is Dragon Games or Way Too Wonderland

Favourite Webisode, mine is Cerise’s Picnic Panic

Any EAH merch you have, I only have the diary

Whose dorm you want, I want Ramona’s or Maddie’s

What class you would take, I would take Creative Stoytelling

Whose pet you’d rather have, I would have Nevermore

Tag someone?🥺

@eahravenmh, @everafterwhat, @folksyfairy, @zvmz, @mirrornetsblog, @athena-xox, @everafterhighliveaction, @stealeroflemons

[fairykukla]

The Horny Paladin and the Prissy Bard

This is a pair of atypical builds for the character class. Everyone thinks of Paladins as being uptight, right? And Bards are the sluttiest?

Well, I present to you Tiffany and Tilly.

Theophania was stricken ill as a small child. The illness left her crippled, so her parents brought her to the temples of many gods and goddesses to be healed. At the temple of the Goddess of bounty and fertility, the priestesses were able to nurse her back to strength, but warned her that they were unable to restore her fertility, which was destroyed by the sickness. She decided to devote her life to the service of the goddess.

The local temple found her to be an apt pupil and taught her well, but she wasn't interested in becoming a cleric.

The Goddess appeared to Theophania in a dream in the form of a golden rabbit and implored her to go forth and share her bountiful love with the world. The Goddess promised her that if Theophania served her well, she would be rewarded with many children.

Due to the turmoil in the world she thought it best to learn how to defend herself and be a strong arm to those weaker than her. She studied the Arts Martial and became extremely proficient with her Crossbow.

Her Sister Matilda loved music, and stoytelling through song. She sought out the Harpers, bards, storytellers and musicians and learned how to play many instruments. She collected songs, and wrote new songs from the stories she encountered. She was supportive to her sister's training and agreed to become a sparring partner for her. Thusly, she learned about combat and defense.

Theophania, in turn, was her sister's first and best audience. Matilda had sat by her side during her illness and sang comfort to her. As they grew up, she would beg for more stories and songs. Despite being puzzled by the convoluted storylines of the great chivalric romances ("Love triangle? Why didn't they just all go to bed together?") she loved to hear Matilda's voice.

Now, they travel together and bring light to the world wherever they can.

Tilly can capture your attention with a masterful song, but is not interested in sneaking out to the hayloft thank you very much. She dreams about courtly love and elaborate courtships and is genuinely flustered by anyone's advances. Do not grapple with her. She knows joint locks.

Tiffany is adept at swordplay, and genuinely terrifying with her ranged weapon. She'd still rather negotiate. After all, the best way to "defeat" an enemy is to make a new friend, right? She is highly likely to fuck her way out of trouble. Or into. Or into and then out of trouble. "I only do hand-to-hand in bed."

[unityrain24]

Saw your tags about Star Wars, it seems Star Wars stans and modern MCU stans are two peas in a pod. :/

im not entirely sure which tags you were referring to, because i have reblogged several starwars posts with Tags, but honestly, the mcu and starwars really are two peas in a pod. And im honestly surprised there isnt more comradery/comparing between the fandoms

both started out as, while definitely not "high art" or anything, legitimately good enjoyable films, with relatable characters the audience could feel empathy and compassion for, exciting new powers and places, fun and adventurous stories, and more, which instantly became beloved classic that people thought about with nostalgia and pleasantness. And they were and by people who cared and the people who watched them were compelled to care and create communities.

But then both franchises saw a shift, from making films from a passionate and moneymaking point of view, to purely making films from a moneymaking point of view. While star wars saw this happen with the franchise being picked up a few years after to make sequels, the mcu's shift happened more gradually, since there was no time in-between making movies.

now, while i would not consider myself a StarWars Fan, my sister and cousins most definitely were, so i had to watch basically everything in order to keep a conversation with them (not that i didnt enjoy it, i quite liked it and all the lore, it just didnt hold the special place in my heart that thing i consider myself a Fan of do). I've watched the movies, the clone wars series, rebels, the mandalorian, etc all the way through. It's been a while since i was keeping up with everything, so forgive me for not having quite a comprehensive understanding and opions of it as i did say, 3-4 years ago lol.

But the starwars sequels are a lot like the latest phases of the mcu. While i cant remember if they explicitly go against any prestablished canon like the later mcu phases do, they definitely go against the spirit and point/purpose of the original (and even prequel) films.From what i remember, the sequels also had went through several different directers and had direction and script changes and was a whole mess, so even the three films were sort of inconsistent or at the very leat felt oddly-thrown together (<-i may be wrong on the specifics of that its been a while. but it was something along those lines). Also like the later phases of the mcu, they relied a lot on the "nostalgia factor" with not only easter eggs but bringing back old ideas, concepts, plots, even characters, since it "worked so well the first time," when really what the "first time" did was think of new things, present old things in new ways, and tell make art from a place of passion, community, and connection, rather than a "whats the least i can do to make the most money" mindset formula (a point brought up a lot by @therese-lokidottir on many of their recent mcu critiques).

Starwars, unlike the mc, did have a brief period of "redemption" where it looked like the franchise would be saved and given back to the hands of people passionate about starwars, stoytelling, and film, with stuff like the final season of clonewars, the mandalorian, and a few other things. That was a great time to be a starwars fan. I wasn't even a fan, and it was kind of magical for me. But now it seems like they are back of the capitalist art-destroying path, hard. They have been pumping out series after series after series (once again going for the "nostalgia" thing, bringing back the clonewars artstyle, several beloved characters, and more), but it all feels so hollow. The stories feel more like they are just putting in a whole bunch of "wow, thats so shocking" and sewing them together with "hey i loved that character!". The costuming and makeup is absolute trash. The worst by far is hera (an alien character from the animated Rebels series, showing up live-action in Ahsoka). It is hideous. I have seen cosplays of her better than what the actual multi-bullion-dollar corpoation disney with all the best resources put on that screen. The costume looked like it was from spirit halloween, the makeup looked patchy and strange, they left out simple details of her design, and all the colours were Off. Examples:

Hera in Rebels:

Hera Cosplayers (x and x):

Hera in the Ahsoka Series: (it is like. seriously disconcerting to me)

and again, the costuming was not the most pressing point. Its actually relatively low on the list of points of everything bad with current starwars. But its good for a visual example. My sister and my cousins loved starwars. Passionate. Ahsoka was one of my sister's favourite characters. She couldnt even get though a full episode of ashoka. I havent heard anything new of starwars from our cousins, either. And we see eachother relatively often. I havent watched a new starwars thing in like... forever now. And it seems like neither have they. And not because they got sick of starwas, i can tell you that. They got sick of the new starwars being pumped out and shoved down their throats where the only things that resembled what they had loved were twisted into something else. Which, at least in my experience, is far, far worse than if they just ended things ubruptly and unfairly. At least mutilated corpse can rest.

The mcu's decline was, again, more gradual, like boiling a frog. Thor ragnarok is where i would probably pinpoint the beginnings though. I didn't like it at first, because it was out of character, sort of reversed elements of the character's well-developing character arcs , narratively picked on some characters more than others, etc. But, it was still a well-beloved film by many, in-universe explanations for why the characters, arcs, and plots were so different could be plausibly thought up, it was fun and unique, and i could make myself ignore the bad parts and focus on the good and enjoy it for a while. But by the time the loki series came out? There wasnt even any of that anymore. No passion. No community. No love of art. No respect for the previous artists and their art, that the new makers were supposed to honour and continue. While ragnarok's morals of the story could be a little iffy at times (attempting to critique colonialism/imperialism, but falling flat because mocking loki for dismantling it; making jokes at points of the film where it was a little inappropriate), the loki series was straight up horrifying. Perhaps most noteably, fucking. GLORIFYING AND EXCUSING/SYMPATHIZING FASCISM??? and labeling genocide as a "necessary evil?" (though, once again, that was not the only immoral "moral" the series preached). Disgusting. And the MCU is pumping out way more films than starwars, and seem far deeper in the money-lust trenches too.

either way, both are suffering and both are bought by disney (and oddly, both keep giving more and more screentime to the fascist characters. but at least starwars isnt romanticizing it like the mcu is...)

and it hurts so much when something important to you is taken from you, and twisted, and ruined, and its mutilated corpse is hung up on string and paraded around as a puppet before your eyes, and burned into your mind even when you finally tear yourself away. And then swarms of people thinking your ridiculous for caring so much about something so unimportant, and others defending the very monstrosity that did this.

But its not ridiculous or silly or inferior to be attatched to a fictional character or fictional world or fictional story or whatever. They can provide comfort, and ways to explore and understand and even come to terms with yourself (or even others!) (and can be especially important coping mechanism for mentally ill people!). And art is a such an innately human thing, for us to express ourselves, and communal art (like film!) is a tradition across humanity and time!

And with the whole thing with people these days defending/denying what capitalism is doing to art, and denying the notion that art has any influence or effect on "real life"... why are these such absurd concept to you, that you liken to some crazy conspiracy theory? Are you really so blind as to not see it happening before you? Is the blindfold over your eyes really so soft it feels like nothing there? They say a bird who doesnt know its in a cage thinks its free. These people seem to think that drastic, unfair, unjust, immoral, inequal changes and systems are only things of the past. And often, the past doesnt feel real. Dinosaurs and the roman empire and some genocide in some faraway land in some faraway time can at times seem just as unreal as mythical creatures and stories. And even if such terrible things were to happen now, surely theyd be able to see it coming. But things like this dont change in an instant. They are gradual. Like boiling a frog. You dont notice. And even if things arent the worst they can be, and never become the worst they can be, they are still bad. Things arent required to be certified the worst of worst in order for change to be allowed to happen. The worst of the worst isnt even a thing.

Our art is being taken from us. We are being overworked and underpayed. Our whole lives are dictated by how "valuable" we are. Our environments are being polluted and decimated and our planet is becoming more and more inhospitable. Racism and queerphobia and ableism and more are taking lives. And none of those things are at the very worst they can be. They could all be much, much, much worse. But we shouldnt just sit around and be grateful its not worse and do nothing more, nor should we deny anything is wrong at all. If you had cancer youd want to do what you could to get better. If you If broke your leg youd do what you could to make it better. Even if you just accidentally cut your hand or finger while chopping vegetables, youd bandages it up. We always should try to make things better.

We deserve to have our art continue to be art. Just as we deserve all the much more pressing areas of our lives to be better too

Anyways, marvel and starwars really are two peas in a pod. And that pod is with other pods, and the plant those pods share is film. Or perhaps even art as a whole. The mcu and starwars are just really good examples of whats happening right now, because not only does it feel like perhaps its hitting them the most, but also because since they are such large franchises, you can really see and document the progression of whats happening with each instalment.

two peas in a pod :( <3

[anulithots]

I agree with every. single. one of these. (except I haven't read sarah j mass)

I never write stories about human beings JUST for the sake of not having to deal with romance and gender and school and such and such. And it would be so much fun to have more media that isn't centered around romance or romantic subplots, (especially since I'm on the aro/ace spectrum, and it's annoying sometimes to see characters treating romance as if it's the meaning of life, when I've never felt that way and never will.)

Book cover illustrations can be the reason I buy it. I want book covers that look like animated movie posters. (Because pictures and models can be a bit... less compelling, at least to me.)

I want book covers to be a whole thing, where artists are paid a lot to design them, and everyone can obsess over the book cover artist and the story, and the cover/art go hand in hand in a bunch of creative euphoria.

(I just want stories to feel like... events, movements, something building upon itself.)

MORE ADULT CATEGORIES :D

I'm a minor but.... can we please have stories that fall between 'todler goes to preschool' and 'teenager goes to high school' and then 'here's an 18+ mature yada yada'. Can't we have... all stages of life and everything and anything?

TRIGGER WARNINGS ARE THE BEST THINGS EVER <3

Like, I don't want to acknowledge reality sometimes, sometimes I want to exist without having to think about... all of everything.

OOooOh... what if blurbs, instead of generalized sensationalism, were more accurate and honest. What if the authors themselves told people in the blurb - "here's what this story is about, here is who it is for," OR have a snippet of the story for free to read, to see what the book will be like.

Overall, I kind of want a story telling renaissance. And I like all the points you've made.

I miss stories that were metaphysical explorations of what it means to exist, intermixed with the silly heartwarming ones.

give us a hyper specific writing opinion U have (good or bad)

ough i have so many opinions. i think i might piss some people off with some of these lmao

enemies to lovers is a bad trope and i don't like it. a lot of the books marketed as enemies to lovers are actually just romanticized abuse, and sometimes other books that are marketed as enemies to lovers are just characters who insulted each other once and are now 'enemies.'

not every book needs a romantic subplot. why is it so hard to find books centered around family dynamics, or completely platonic dynamics? why must everything imply romantic interest? i actually don't mind romantic subplots, it's just that its so hard to find anything without a romance that it can be a bit frustrating sometimes.

i have several very specific book cover icks. i really hate those book covers that look like they were made on canva (especially if its from a bigger publisher and i KNOW they have the money to pay an illustrator to come up with something better). i also really hate a lot of contemporary romance-style covers. they are too similar and its hard to tell them apart. recently book covers have gotten more varied, which is actually great! i really love illustrative book covers, or book covers with scenes from the book on them. i know they say not to judge a book by it's cover, but i am an art kid. i really like pretty covers. sue me lmao

i actually don't like sarah j mass's writing style. i tried to read one of her books (i think it was that YA one? throne of glass iirc) and had to DNF it pretty early on because i couldn't get past the writing being so bland

i actually really like CWs for books. i don't know why some people are so against them. i wish that CWs were more common, actually. because sometimes i'm not in the mood to read something really dark, but its hard to tell from just the blurb is a book will make me bawl my eyes out. (also i adamantly believe that even in books marketed for adults, explicit/graphic content (like overtly violent themes or sexual content and such) should be labelled. they already do that for movies, including ratings and why it was rated that way. i wish there was a way to be more informed about what you were investing your time into in the literary world before you end up feeling ripped off because you ended up stumbling across something you weren't anticipating)

when will book stores/libraries create a new adult category. i wanna read about college/grad school aged people, but sifting through the adult section at book stores is confusing. because books about a 21 year old will be right next to books about a 35 year old divorced person. there's no rhyme or reason.

i have more opinions i'm just getting distracted now so i will leave it at that lmao

[equinoxts2]

So... I don't know if I'll come back to blogging about Kulo Sena. I'm back to playing TS2, but it's the solo-RPG spinoff hood that I won't be sharing pics or gameplay from, where I'm testing out some of my new ideas. And since that's just for me, it's making me rethink whether I want to share my KS gameplay on simblr.

My reasons for stepping away include: less pressure on my worldbuilding, stoytelling and landscaping skills; reconnecting with what I actually want to do with the Senaverse rather than what I think will get me likes; not having to pause and take screenshots every five seconds, then spend ages sorting and editing them; not feeling obliged to protect particular sims from bad ROS because I downloaded them from a simblr friend.

Maybe one day I will come back to blogging. Maybe not. But for now, I'm hanging up my screenshot program and just playing for me. I'll still be around to like and comment, but don't expect any gameplay updates. There may, however, be a few zany worldbuilding posts now and again - I keep thirteen scrapbooks and counting, some dating back to 2011, full of inspirational screenshots and gameplay ideas I've collected, and who knows, maybe my ideas on how to use game mechanics in a different way will be useful for someone.

[xarrixii]

Chapter_39 : "The Gray Area"

CW: fighting (physical) previous chapter | beginning | masterlist

/ / / / / | ---

Harlow was more than just concerned.

If it was Liam, he would’ve shown himself by now with some loud dramatic entrance. If it was his mother, it meant that she’d finally figured out she’d been making absent payments for several years and was going to sell Harlow’s one hiding spot off to someone else. And he’d probably get fucked over by being inside.

If it happened to be anyone else, they were trying to break in and steal something.

Harlow took out the pocket knife from one of the shadily installed drawers courtesy of Raiden. It was better to avoid fire here. Just to be safe, he made sure the lighter was accessible from most positions.

The rest of the garage door’s code was finally entered and the shabby metal sheet was lifted just enough for the person to get inside. Then it dropped back down to the concrete. Something slid along the floor. Harlow sat crouched behind the counter.

Confident enough to lock themselves inside with someone completely random.

Then they turned off the light.

Okay.

Harlow shifts uncomfortably before quickly rolling out of the way of the body very obviously vaulting over the counter above his head. A crash into the cabinet doors, one of the wooden panels falling off its hinge.

He could vaguely see with the light from the crack under the garage door. The outline of someone who at least vaguely knew their shit.

The knife ended up being held in warning.

Fire pumped out from the person’s fist, forcing Harlow to dodge and move into the open space that was the rest of the generally spacious garage. Harlow cast the knife aside to some corner to instead wrench the fire from this random, careless, pyrokinetic stranger.

He threw it back at the figure, much to their bemusement.

Some angry mumbling and the person ran at Harlow, forcing him to block one of the punches spewing out fire and grab for their arm to yank them past.

The angry bumble of a person made sure to gain their footing back and instantly throw themselves into close-quarters again, where Harlow got a chance to click open his lighter and start heating it up. Which left him with one hand to weave just out of this person’s reach and behind them, kicking their back into the island counter.

A grunt escaped them with Harlow stepping back carefully over the cord connecting his controller resting on the couch to the game station.

He let out a huff when the figure whipped around, barely fazed, and went to run at him again before Harlow strung up a white spread of fire to block the way to normally walk over the cord.

They saw the white smear and moved to duck under it, effectively tripping on the cord with the controller clattering along the floor. Harlow rushed to find the handle on the garage door, failed, and ran the long way around the couch when he heard the person get up behind him.

The person ended up grabbing onto his wrist with the lighter and wrestling it out of his hand onto the floor halfway across the couch.

Harlow managed to kick them back again. It was really the only move Harlow had ever managed to find useful when sparring with Raiden. It was proving itself right again.

Some scarily familiar laughter erupted out of the person with yet another press forward at Harlow trying to gain any sort of distance.

He froze.

Harlow felt himself getting shoved against the island counter, lost in a trainwreck of thought. He probably would’ve crumpled to the floor if not being held up by the person grabbing hold of him to flatten him on top of the counter.

It hurt. The hand holding him down hurt.

The name wasn’t coming out.

“What, you’re just done now? It was finally getting…” the person went quiet when the flame sparked to life again in their still free hand.

“Rai,” Harlow weakly said.

He was quickly pulled off the counter into a standing hug, slumping into the arms that wrapped around him instead.

Harlow had been tired.

So, so tired.

“Fuck, Urb, that’s my bad. Sorry.” Raiden relaxed out of the hug and walked back to the lightswitch, flicking it on.

Harlow slowly let out a chuckle. “You’re good.”

Raiden crouched down and picked up a box from the floor, inspecting it awkwardly before turning back to Harlow with a sheepish grin. “Uh, happy twenty-three, I guess. I was planning on replacing the game station with this, use a sharpie or something…”

“Two months?” He let out some sick form of laughter. When Raiden shook their head and walked back over, laughing along with, Harlow quickly devolved back into recognizing the stupidity of what had just happened.

“Yeah,” Raiden held out the box to Harlow. “Sorry. I probably should’ve called or something. I’m a fuckin’ idiot, aren’t I?”

“Where…” Harlow decided against an instantaneous interrogation upon seeing Raiden’s stupid fucking smirk. He could do that later. “Nevermind. What the hell is that?”

Raiden’s smirk transformed into a grin. “Daffodils. Well—ones that don’t die.”

Harlow hesitantly took the box and looked at the image on it, little plastic daffodils with a piece count in the top left.

“I do have to go back to my hospital room before anyone finds out. I came down here to trade that for the game station and Flash Fire, didn’t expect you to be here. Write a little note and everything. This sounds weird, but if you’re willing to drive me, the motorcycle I took down here, and that game back I will explain everything.”

“Okay,” Harlow breathed. “But, hospital? Wouldn’t I have heard if someone found you by now? I mean⸺”

Raiden visibly winced. “No one found me. It’s why I turned the lights off, nobody is supposed to know that I’m walking about now unless they’re in the loop and everything, I didn’t really want to risk⸺”

“You said you’d explain on the road. We can talk about something else while we go get the truck?”

They waited a second before rolling their eyes.

“I ended up with a lot of time to think in my cell, thing,” Raiden relented in the driver’s seat, tapping the steering wheel. “Storm ended up making a lot of sense. Apparently the cell block division I was in was just a test for Storm ops, but apparently Nacht hurts a fuck ton, so now they’re refusing to let me do anything until I’m cleared.”

“But you can’t tell anyone that you’re… not imprisoned anymore?” Harlow was trying to focus on everything he was being told. It wasn’t working the greatest.

Raiden let out a playful huff. “Nope. It’d get kinda weird, anyway. I know Cinder’s gonna find out eventually and everything, but if you could not tell anyone for at least a while, it’d do me a big favor. Along with not sharing the whole Storm hospital thing.”

“Right.”

The rest of the ride was kept in silence, stars out in the sky by the time they’d parked in front of what was, in fact, a legitimate-looking hospital.

When the truck stopped, Raiden didn’t immediately hop out. Instead, they looked at Harlow sitting anxiously in the passenger. “Hey I’m, sorry I couldn’t make your birthday any, better. And also that I have to go, and that I threw all of this on you.”

“You’re good, Rai,” Harlow said. “One of my best yet, all be as it may.”

Another few seconds of unspoken words.

“Urb, I think you should join Storm.”

next chapter | masterlist

/ / / / / | --- missing a content warning? let me know

i'm not entirely sure how i'm feeling about this fight scene. this is the last chapter i have backlogged, so i should probably get on writing some more.

also i know the header lost a lot of its details but it feels like a little much in its complete version (which you can find on the masterlist).

any feedback on the fight, positive or negative, is welcome on this post.

taglist: @lychhiker-writes, @madeoforgansandtissues, @fins0up

[michelangelob]

Giovanni Stradano: la prima retrospettiva a Palazzo Vecchio in occasione dei 500 anni dalla nascita

Giovanni Stradano, al secolo Jan van der Straet, nacque a Bruges nel 1523, 500 anni fa. Per celebrare l’importante cinquecentenario, Palazzo Vecchio per la prima volta gli dedica una retrospettiva: un omaggio dovuto all’artista fiammingo che molto operò per la città nella quale scelse di vivere fino alla fine dei suoi ottantadue anni. “Giovanni Stradano a Firenze 1523-2023. Le più strane e belle…

[koreposion]

WAHHHH YOU'RE SO SWEET I'M GONNA GET CAVITIES!!!

I just think I'm some silly little guy who makes posts about stuff because I think that stuff is cool and good!

I was just really lucky to find a fellow rlly good storyteller who loves reading my funky lil thoughts

@koreposion oh my god if that reblog chain gets any longer we'll literally end up making an entire novel's worth of this content XD

[babblingstacey]

Gerdie the Super Sim

I've found myself not keeping with my storylines and getting stressed out over taking screenshots the past few months - also my computer has been in use for other things so I couldn't play. But I decided to do a chill Super Sim challenge and I've brought back Gerdie to do it. And it worked - I had fun playing this so I'm going to continue. I'm using James Turner's Super Sim tracker (yes, I link to his site a lot, but I really like the tools he has set up).

I thought about using a totally new Sim for it - getting all the infant, toddler, child & teen milestones - but honestly, that didn't sound much fun so...it's Gerdie, since she had a lot of things out the way all ready. With that thought process, I probably could have gone with one of my Globetrotter Sims since they completed a lot already. But honestly? I missed her. I moved her to a completely new save so I don't have to worry about her past story and her skills/traits would carry over. My plan is also to move her to different worlds and build her a new house, since I really like building and I'll get bored if she has to live in the same place all the time.

No idea how much I'll be screenshotting/posting, but since I finished a season, I thought I'd start keeping track here of all of her accomplishments.

Gerdie Visser-Pancakes

Traits: Genius, Loves the Outdoors, Socially Awkward Outgoing, Clumsy, Lactose Intolerant (Had 2 popups if she wanted to change her trait from Socially Awkward to Outgoing so I decided to go with it. I decided that's my rule)

Current Residence: Mt Komerabi

Likes: Idealist Sims, Homebody Sims, Gardening, Black, Purple, Handiness, Cooking, Dancing, Knitting, Skiing, Rock Climbing, Fitness, Photography

Dislikes: Yellow

(I say yes to any new like - except music genres, because they annoy me with the wants. I don't remember why she dislikes yellow and I haven't received any other dislike requests)

Progress under the cut.

End of Summer, year 1

Current Completed Aspirations: Nerd Brain, Mt Komerabi Sightseer. (plus Whiz Kid as a child).

Aspirations In progress: Extreme Sports Enthusiast, Lady of the Knits, Curator, Fabulously Wealthy (passive), Renaissance Sim (passive)

Current Career: Scientist (level 8)

Completed Careers: Scout, Chess Team Member.

Current Completed Skills: Handiness, Logic, Skiing (plus all toddler and several child ones, but I can't find that info)

Very Close to complete: Rock Climbing (level 9), Cooking (level 9), Fitness (level 9)

Reward Traits: Always Welcome, Gym Rat, Observant, Speed Cleaner, Great Stoyteller, Heat Acclimation, Cold Acclimation, Waterproof, Morning Sim, Night Owl, Speed Reader, Strom Chaser, Free Services, Entrepreneurial, Frugal, Independent, Steel Bladder, Carefree, Savant, Brave.

On to fall - need to work on snowboarding before we move - and get that last animal attack to finish the Extreme Sports.

[mint-in-the-moonlight]

reinterpreting Vaermina

as I have written in my previous post on interpreting the daedra, if we want to engage with the daedric princes and worship them without doing a bunch of messed up stuff that daedra worshippers are said to do in Tamriel, we need to find an alternate way to approach the princes.

Vaermina is no different, and is associated with a lot of bad stuff and her worshippers are said to also engage in many harmful acts and that's not something we should be trying to replicate. however, as i have proposed previously, we could engage with the lore and the games as myths and therefore we do not need to literally believe that a deity did certain things or that their worshipper did blood sacrifices (in my interpretation, in the world of Tamriel stories like these are intentionally spread to paint the daedric princes as evil and thus discourage people from worshipping them, but that's just a theory... A GAME THEO- *gunshot*).

Vaermina is associated with dreams and nightmares, as well as evil omens and corruption. She is often believed to be the cause of bad dreams, using them as a torture device or punishment. But if we put all of the bad press aside, we could instead see Vaermina as a deity of sleep, dreams and nightmares, who sometimes communicates through them. From my understanding of the lore, she also seems to be seen as interacting with memories and divination. Thus dreams could be one of the ways that she communicates with the mortal plain and maybe she could also have a relation to prophetic dreams, and for example astral travel and lucid dreaming (all of this is UPG territory btw).

to delve even deeper into my personal UPG, i see Vaermina as being related to many mental themes, and thus we can extend that to for example creativity, concentration or inspiration. More closely tied to her original spheres, she could also be related to naps and regaining energy, or stoytelling, as dreams often have some sort of story, and the subconscious.

that is not to say that Vaermina has to be 100% positive, just as dreams and nightmares can be scary, memory can be fickle and creativity elusive. but we do not need to see the daedric princes as only evil and can find ways to incorporate them into our practice and worship if that is something we wish to do, without feeling some sort of guilt or shame for engaging with deities deemed "evil" in their source material.

[lyr-caelum]

The way you draw Sirius!! He's so cuuuuuute 🥺❤️❤️❤️ Just curious, are you a self-taught artist or are you a professional? Your work is mindblowing - and you say this is your first comic??

hey, thanks! I'm really happy that you like it!

Yes, basically I've been drawing on my own all my life, I studied Film at the university and I spent many years without drawing until I decided to do a master in illustration and 2D animation.

(I still don't dare to animate something Wolfstar but who knows, maybe one day when I have a lot of time I'll do it).

Currently while I work I'm studying storyboarding on my own, because I would love to dedicate myself professionally to draw stories, that's why I started to draw scenes from ATYD, because I needed to reference from written things and practice my character design, as an exercise to improve my visual stoytelling.

I never thought that people would like me drawing ATYD scenes so much and in the end, one thing led to another, and I realized that I would love to see the whole story drawn. So I said, why not? The truth is that I'm learning a lot doing this and I see myself slowly becoming more and more capable of being able to tackle creating my own stories and comics in the future.

I love this story and these characters so much, because I feel that in some way they heal my inner child, and if I can learn, experiment and other people enjoy the process too, it's a win win Right?