#the map is deliberately designed to look like it came out of

[tathracynart]

In-progress map for the Monster of the Week mystery I'm running right now. Camp Perenell is a year-round camp that hosts many different events and activities, but it's currently under siege by some kind of plant monsters. Bad times all around

[thedeviltohisangel]

All The Things I Did

a/n: welp i'm in over my head. accepting prompts.

Every time a plane landed from Greenland, she watched and assessed those who departed from afar. They were always flush with the cold of flying and the excitement of arriving. Chest filled with the pride of reaching the front and the longing to taste the adrenaline of flying in unfriendly skies. She hated watching them deteriorate the longer they were in the English countryside. Hated that no matter how many times she laced up her boots and tread into the darkness and came back with a map or a plan or a snippet of a conversation in Berlin that it was never enough. She chose, deliberately and emphatically, to not try and get to know them.

But then, one day, Major John Egan got off that plane. And he was loud and ever present. He made jokes and sang in the officer’s club and spent days asking around about the Lieutenant that read at the bar and wrote notes in the corner of the interrogation room.

Spook. That is what the men called her. The Colonel had introduced her as an intelligence officer to someone once but no one had been there to verify the designation now. But she fit the bill. Steady demeanor. Whip smart on the off chance she was asked to answer a question before a mission. Quietly discerning even when ordering a Coca-Cola. 

She wanted to blend in but Bucky wouldn’t let her. He picked her out almost instantly upon his arrival. Saw her head flitting between buildings and caught her gaze for a moment on his way to Colonel Huglin’s office. A big red folder with SECRET emblazoned across the front. 

“Major,” she spoke with a polite nod. She didn’t wait for him to respond in kind before she was off and around the corner like she had never actually been there. He welcomed the challenge.

----

He saw her again that night, sitting at the bar with a half-drank Coke collecting condensation and her nose buried in a book of maps of Western Europe. Music was playing and people were dancing and John was wondering why it felt so normal. Maybe he’d be able to get Buck to loosen up a little once he got here. 

“It’s good to see you again, Lieutenant.” But for now, John would settle for learning her name. She curled an eyebrow and cast him a sideways glance, John noticing the red pen in her hand for the first time. “I’ve heard great things about the work you do here.” He leant his elbow on the bar and took her in for the first time. Her uniform was pressed immaculately and fit her like it had been tailored by a professional yet she seemed uncomfortable in it. Hair curled perfectly with not a strand out of place and a dusting of pink powder across her cheeks.

“Well, Major, those kinds of discussions would fly in the face of my exact line of work, wouldn’t they?” She faced him fully and he swallowed thickly. She could probably read him just as well as she could that book in front of her.

“Still. You’ve got a good reputation for the crumbs you give these boys.” She looked around and took note of the stares. 

“They’re only boys until they go up for the first time.” She turned back to her work. He wasn’t giving up. She wasn’t quite sure what they were when they came back but it was something different. 

“No one will tell me about it. What to expect when I go up there in a couple days.” With a sigh, she closed the book in defeat and faced the Major, crossing her legs professionally.

“I can only assume it's because there are no words for them to describe it. And if they tried, pilots such as yourself may not be eager to join up.” He smirked.

“Such as myself? I promise the stories do me no justice.” It was her turn to roll her eyes.

“You’re the air exec for the 100th who arranged to be a part of a different company’s missions.”

“And?”

“Do you fancy yourself a hotshot, Major Egan?” John almost choked on the sip of his drink that went down his throat. She was studying him. Analyzing his reactions to her words like they were a math problem. Picking her conversational path accordingly. Instead of replying, he flagged down the man behind the bar.

“Can we get the Lieutenant something a little stiffer?” 

“I don’t drink,” she deadpanned as whatever Major Egan was drinking was placed in front of her.

“You dance?” The rest of his glass went down easily. 

“With the right partner.” She knew what he was really asking. Answered ambivalently anyways. And carefully considered his hand when he offered it. “You’ve known me less than a day, Major. You haven’t even asked my name.” She stood from the chair she had been occupying, pushing the Major’s hand into his chest and holding hers on top of it for a beat.

“Not the right partner?” he mumbled as she looked up at him with the clearest eyes he had ever seen.

“Not yet. Enjoy the rest of your night, Major. I’m sure I’ll see you at breakfast.” John wanted to do something to leave an impression. Maybe kiss her hand. Spin her around and coax her into joining him on the dance floor. Chase whatever was gnawing inside of him to figure out more about her. Instead he let their hands drop and watched her grab her things from the bar top and walk out of the party. He didn’t notice that they had had an audience the entire time they were talking. Didn’t notice the way she took a deep, steadying breath once she was out of the room. Didn’t know, may never know, that she wanted to dance. Wanted to smile and get to know people and experience everything this life had to offer her. But if one more airmen went up and didn’t come back down, especially one like Major John Egan, she doesn’t think she could handle it.

----

“This seat taken?” This time it was John’s turn to be surprised. He looked up from the morning paper to see Lieutenant…Cooper is what her name plate said, holding her cap and gesturing towards the chair across from him in the mess hall.

“All yours.” She sat quickly and thanked the attendant when he placed a cup of coffee and a plate of food in front of her, her napkin placed delicately across her lap. “You learn that in debutante school?” He meant it as a joke but she froze.

“Maybe.” He hid a triumphant grin behind his own mug. “But I also learned that the way I behaved last night was not appropriate and I wanted to apologize.” John leaned forward, snatching a ration of bacon from her plate. 

“I’ll accept your apology when you give me that dance you owe me.” The look behind his eyes was wicked. She hates that she enjoyed it.

“I’ll tell you what, Major Egan, come find me after your first mission and you can have your dance.”

“John.”

“Your oak cluster outranks my bar, Major-”

“We’re gonna ease you into calling me Bucky.” She giggled and John beamed.

“Bucky?”

“I’ll tell you while we dance…” He left the sentence hanging, silently asking for her to provide her name in turn.

“People who aren’t my mother call me Cass.” He whispered it, enjoying the way it rolled off his tongue. 

“Suits you,” he shrugged, leaning back in his chair. 

“I’m glad you think so.”

----

Cass did her best to keep her eyes off of him during the brief of his first mission. Did her best to keep busy with cables and news from Washington in the few hours it took to complete the mission. Did her best to keep her wits about her when the first plane landed back on the runway. She watched from afar, as she had been accustomed to, as Major Egan got out of his plane. He was flushed with flecks of blood across his face. There was less behind his eyes than there had been the morning they ate breakfast together. Disappointed, her eyes dropped to her shoes. No one was safe from this war.

She skipped listening in on interrogation, securing a copy of the notes instead, and retired to her billet without any interruption. Sleep eluded her, sheets tangled around her legs as she tossed and turned. Giving up, she headed out in her robe and slippers to the airfield. The cool air soothed her instantly and made her smile as she breathed deeply. 

“Didn’t think I’d cash in on my dance out here.” She nearly jumped out of her skin, spinning around to see Major Egan leaning against his plane. His curls were loose and he was wearing his sheepskin instead of his blazer. 

“I’m sorry to intrude, Major-” she fumbled over her words as she tugged the robe tighter around her body.

“You told me there would be no words to describe it. I don’t have the tools to think about it, let alone talk about it.” His voice was strained under the weight of what he had just experienced. She approached him cautiously. “What do I tell my boys when they get here?”

“Nothing. The same way you went up there and followed your instinct and it brought you back here, it will for them too.” She was close enough to rest her hands on his chest, the way she had that first night by the bar, and he didn’t think twice as he twisted a lock of her hair around his finger. The light of the moon kissed an ethereal glow to her. One more intoxicating than the bottle of whiskey he had brought out with him.

“Dance with me,” he whispered, melting under her gaze and giving himself permission to stroke his fingertips across her jaw. She obliged, unable to deny him anything after he had learned the horrible truth that everyone who came here eventually did, her head resting against his heart and his arm tucking securely around her waist.

“Tell me more about you, John Egan.” It was best he remembered who he was, where he came from and what had originally inspired him to come here. To fight this fight. 

“I’m from a little place in Wisconsin,” he murmured as he rested his cheek on top of her head and his eyes drifted shut, lulled into peace from their gentle swaying. “Joined up even before Pearl.” She smiled. Almost everyone in her town had joined up after Pearl, including her.

“I’ve never been to Wisconsin. Didn’t leave South Carolina until they sent me to training in DC.” John hummed.

“So I was right about debutante school.”

“Next time, I’ll teach you a proper waltz.”

“Gotta have something down here to get me through being up there,” he mused, his eyes opening to look down and enjoy the tranquil look on her face.

“Don’t get used to it. My next trip across the channel got approved while you were gone this morning.” John stopped abruptly and looked at her quizzically.

“Across the channel is a warzone. Occupied territory.” 

“I know you know what they call me. Spook. How do you think you get your images of bombing sites and civilian population density and everything else? Someone has to go and get it.”

“Colonel said intelligence officer, not spy.” Her eyes twinkled with mischief. He felt a twinge at the thought of her in danger but couldn’t help but feel the kindred spirit of someone chasing danger.

“I never said anything about spying. Just procuring.” His smile broadened and he swore he was going to kiss her if the sound of a wrench being dropped onto pavement didn’t startle them apart. Lemmons ducked back under the plane as soon as he saw the moment he had interrupted, Cass already retreated back into herself and shaking the fog of John Egan from her head. “I should go try and get some sleep before…” He nodded in agreement, clearing his throat and straightening his tie.

“That’s a good idea. I’ll walk you back.” He did so in silence, neither of them sure how to get back to where they had been. Not sure if they should go back to that dangerous of a place. “I can pick you up for breakfast in a few hours,” he offered slowly as they arrived at her door.

“I’d like that.” 

“Good. So I’ll see you then.”

“Sweet dreams, Major.”

“You too, Lieutenant.” She threw him one last smile over her shoulder, John not leaving until she disappeared from his view. If only Gale could see him now.

[racefortheironthrone]

Hey, what does disruptor mean? I saw it when looking at your answers. I’ve also seen people joke about it on twitter but I can’t find a meaning to it.

It's a term I personally loathe, but I'm willing to do some recent cultural/intellectual history to explain where it came from and what it means.

The term disruptor as it's commonly used today comes out of the business world, more specifically the high tech sector clustered in Silicon Valley. Originally coined as "disruptive innovation" by business school professor Clayton Christensen in the mid-to-late 90s, the idea was that certain new businesses (think your prototypical startup) have a greater tendency to develop innovative technologies and business models that radically destabilize established business models, markets, and large corporations - and in the process, help to speed up economic and technological progress.

While Christensen's work was actually about business models and firm-level behavior, over time this concept mutated to focus on the individual entrepeneur/inventor/founder figure of the "disruptor," as part of the lionization of people like Steve Jobs or Mark Zuckerburg or Elon Musk, or firms like Lyft, Uber, WeWork, Theranos, etc. It also mutated into a general belief that "disrupting" markets and, increasingly, social institutions is how society will and should progress.

I find these ideas repellant. First of all, when it comes to the actual business side of things, I think it mythologizes corporate executives as creative geniuses by attributing credit for innovations actually created by the people they employ. Elon Musk didn't create electric cars or reusable rockets, Steve Jobs didn't design any computers or program any OSes, but because they're considered "disruptors," we pretend that they did. This has a strong effect on things like support for taxing the rich - because there is this popular image of the "self-made billionaire" as someone who "earned" their wealth through creating "disruptive" companies or technologies, there is more resistance to taxing or regulating the mega-wealthy than would otherwise be the case.

Even more importantly, treating "disruptors" like heroes and "disruption" as a purely good thing tends to make people stop thinking about whether disruption to a given industry is actually a good thing, whether what tech/Silicon Valley/startup firms are doing is actually innovative, what the economic and social costs of the disruption are, and who pays them. Because when we look at a bunch of high-profile case studies, it often turns out to be something of a case of smoke and mirrors.

To take ridesharing as an example, Lyft and Uber and similar companies aren't actually particularly innovative. Yes, they have apps that connect riders to drivers, but that's not actually that different from the old school method of using the phone to call up a livery cab company. There's a lot of claims about how the apps improve route planning or the availability of drivers or bring down prices, but they're usually overblown: route planning software is pretty common (think Google Maps), when you actually look at how Lyft and Uber create availability, it's by flooding the market with large numbers of new drivers, and when you look at how they got away with low prices, it was usually by spending billions upon billions of venture capital money on subsidizing their rides.

Moreover, this "disruption" has a pretty nasty dark side. To start with, Lyft and Uber's business strategy is actually a classic 19th century monopoly strategy dressed up in 21st century rhetoric: the "low prices" had nothing to do with innovative practices or new technology, it was Lyft and Uber pulling the classic move of deliberately selling at a loss to grab market share from the competition, at which point they started raising their prices on consumers. Availability of drivers was accomplished by luring way too many new drivers into the labor market with false promises of making high wages in their spare time, but when the over-supply of drivers inevitably caused incomes to decline, huge numbers of rideshare drivers found themselves trapped by auto debts and exploited by the companies' taking a significant chunk of their earnings, using the threat of cutting them off from the app to cow any resistance. And above all, Lyft and Uber's "disruption" often came down to a willful refusal to abide by pre-existing regulations meant to ensure that drivers could earn a living wage, that consumers would be protected in the case of accidents or from the bad behavior of drivers, etc. As a policy historian, however, I find the extension of "disruption" into social institutions the most troubling. Transportation, health care, education, etc. are absolutely vital for the functioning of modern society and are incredibly complex systems that require a lot of expertise and experience to understand, let alone change. Letting a bunch of billionaires impose technocratic "reforms" on them from above, simply because they say they're really smart or because they donate a bunch of money, is a really bad idea - especially because when we see what the "disruptors" actually propose and/or do, it often shows them to be very ordinary (if not actively stupid) people who don't really know what they're doing.

Elon Musk's Loop is an inherently worse idea than mass transit. His drive for self-driving cars is built on lies. Pretty much all of the Silicon Valley firms that have tried to "disrupt" in the area of transportation end up reinventing the wheel and proposing the creation of buses or trolleys or subways.

Theranos was a giant fraud that endangered the lives of thousands in pursuit of an impossible goal that, even if it ould have been achieved, wouldn't have made much of a difference in people's lives compared to other, more fruitful areas of biotech and medical research.

From Bill Gates to Mark Zuckerburg, Silicon Valley billionaires have plunged huge amounts of philanthropy dollars into all kinds of interventions in public education, from smaller classrooms to MOOCs to teacher testing to curriculum reform to charter schools. The track record of these reforms has been pretty uniformly abysmal, because it turns out that educational outcomes are shaped by pretty much every social force you can think of and educational systems are really complex and difficult to measure.

So yeah, fuck disruptors.

[pants-magic-pants]

✧⊹JARETH BALLROOM COAT⊹✧

[This post is part of a series about constructing Jareth's entire masquerade ball costume. Visit the master post here.]

The Nightmare of the Lace [Part 2 of 2]

In part two, we will explore the decoration of the lace pieces that would be sewn/stitched on top of the velvet of Jareth's ballroom coat. This moment in costume construction was all about peering deeply into exhibit photos, pondering, designing, and stitching beads for countless hours. It took at least a month or two to finish, but it was definitely all worth it. Read more below!

Creating a design -------------------------

Trying to map out what I was seeing in photos was a bit of a challenge. There's a lot going on. What's under there? Is there a point to adding the beads if you can barely see them? And the answer is: yes. Because in photos, their splendor is not captured. In person, they're beautiful, so if you were thinking of forgoing this step for your own costume, or any costume with what you may call "discreet" beading, I ask you to reconsider. They really add a magical dimension to your work.

ANYHOO, I put photos into a program, and tried to draw what was there, and it didn't seem to be anything more complex than random loops and fishhooks, which got a little more deliberate further down, where it was no longer covered by hot glue. Towards those buttons, they start to interact with and frame them.

Photo (c) Yosa Addiss

I’m sure you could come up with all sorts of cool designs that work, and you could get more complex, but me, I basically just made, uhhh… florally fishhooks. Hahaha But I did give them some… hm… some joints, so to speak? They’re a bit branchy. 

The designs were drawn on my original pattern pieces for the lace. I pinned the lace to these, then unpinned where I was working on, so I could work on it, lie it flat, and see which direction I was supposed to be going. An embroidery hoop might've been more ideal, but it wouldn't really work in this situation because I couldn't trace my design on the lace. Maybe thin paper could have gone into something like this, without tearing? But I didn't have one anyway so I just did it the way I did it.

There was less loyalty to my design when it came to the shoulder piece because it was so massive, and a lot of it would be so heavily under beads and jewels, there was no point in making it too specific – there just needed to be something the eye could catch sight of between small windows. 

At a certain point, the designs stop, and I had it marked off where I knew you would not be able to see them anywhere.

Selecting a bead -----------------------

The most obvious choice for something like this would be a kind of seed bead, which come in different sizes. What I chose was a size 11/0, which are only about 2mm wide. Proportions (how big everything looks within its context) matter as much as "objective accuracy", so even if the original had slightly larger beads for this, which I think it did, I also was making a very tiny coat, and definitely doing other math to decide on what size other decorations should be, so for me 11/0 made sense. If the coat itself were bigger, more firmly in the adult size range, a seed bead size of 10/0 or even 8/0 might've worked better.

In the original, there's also something a bit course about them. They may be oblong, like tiny pebbles. You can find seed beads like this, but by the time I realized that, it was too late. I did think mine seemed so very clean and consistent, but *raises hands*

Also, it seems as if they're all black, but I wanted to have a bit of fun, so mine were a mixture of 75% black and 25% dark iridescent. Photos make them seem silvery, but in person they appear faintly blue/green.

Stitching the beads ---------------------------

If you are new to stitching (as I was) and would like to do some for your project, any project, I would suggest learning the back stitching technique, as shown here. It was easy to get the hang of, and you can do curves, not just straight lines. I did anywhere from 1 to 4 beads in a row, caught a single thread of the lace, pulled the needle back towards what I had already stitched, and then stuck it through the last bead again before adding more. At extreme curves, only 1 or 2 could be done at a time, but in places where it was a more continuous trajectory with only a slight curve, I could get away with 4. At 5 beads, things looked a little too straight.

Here are a couple pictures on the journey:

It took a f*&^ng long time to complete this. For things like this, you go into it knowing you'll be chipping away -- you'll spend hours working on something, step back and look at it, and go "oh.. okay... that little part is done. woo---hoo..."

Long-term tedious projects can scare people away, and I understand that, as someone who feels overwhelmed by her thoughts and what she wants to do, often. It was easier to get this part done by pairing it with something else that I could enjoy and that would engage my mind while my hands were busy. So, for a little while, it was my hobby to stitch while listening to Better Call Saul, which I'd seen before, but I'm also a huge Breaking Bad universe fan so revisiting it again and again is a pleasure. I'm sure you could pair your projects with all kinds of stuff: shows, movies, audiobooks, podcasts, youtube channels. I love a good story, but I also love to learn, even just passive learning, having people discussing something interesting in the background while I do whatever it is I'm doing. It becomes a joint hobby (some kind of engaging content + your project) which you can look forward to and appreciate as a ritual.

Moving on, here’s some of the finished pieces before they were added to velvet:

Some trimming was done afterwards, to make the lace's edges look less blocky, especially around the shoulders.

That concludes the seed bead business. But, if you look in front, despite that the lighting is not our friend, you may see that there are extra designs comprised of larger, more raised beads/cabochons. I edited this photo and upped the contrast:

Photo (c) Aria Couture

It’s not clear. My take on it was that they were black, shiny cabochons, so that is what I used. Really basic cheap ones. They seem to be placed in synchrony with the seed beads. Some are in wavy streaks. Other, large ones are stand-alone, but never too close to the buttons. I added these with hot glue before the assembly process.

Voila!

Attaching to the coat -----------------------------

This part was the true hell of the process, as mentioned in the first post about the lace. The plan originally was just to (very carefully, and with buffer fabric between the sewing machine foot and edge of the bead design) combine velvet and lace pieces, at the seam allowances that had been created for them.

However, there was slight distortion and shrinkage of the pieces because of all the bead stitching, and I did not know ahead of time what to do to avoid any issues this may cause. In retrospect, the lace pieces shouldn't have been exact replicas of the velvet pattern pieces... they should have been a teeny, tiny bit larger in all directions, with generous seam allowances. Because I had no foresight about this, it was difficult to attach the lace to the velvet without falling short, or tugging on the velvet in random places where warping had occurred.

Combine that with the impossibility of keeping these two fabrics still, and you have the reason for these posts' names: the nightmare of the lace. It would not stay still, and there was not enough of it.

My solution for this project was to expand some of the lace pieces by sewing more lace onto the edges (dear god it was so silly), and place a non-slippery fabric in between velvet and lace, baste it, sew it, and then cut away the middle fabric, so that it wouldn't go past the seam allowance, effectively hiding it once it was sewn into the garment. *heavy sighing*

Once all the hell of getting these pieces attached to the velvet was past, what I ended up with when it came time for assembly was a standalone collar and two standalone cuffs (velvet + lace). There was the lace shoulder piece by itself, which went in first (since the shoulder seam is one of the first places you start when assembling a coat), and there were the two lapels, which were stitched to the top of the inner facing velvet. 

You see how much that seam allowance struggled?! -->

Those pieces were large and strange-looking, and connecting each part of them in the right order just so was key to the whole coat looking good. Because of the slipperiness of the material, I needed to work downward, so first the top of the inner facing pieces were married with the collar and outer fabric. Then I had to baste-stitch the seam with the zipper inside, turning it back right-side out each stitch to check that there were no hiccups and that the zipper was discreet. The right angle between the front and the tails was another tricky spot, because clipping the lace diagonally was the only way to get it folded into that seam. 

AND THEN, ULTIMATELY, I gave up on sewing the lace into the seam! Folded it around and stitched it inside because it was tugging and slipping and all its usual fuckery.

The last thing that needed to be done to the lace was to stitch it down anywhere else where it would need to lie flat. The lapel lace folded inward in a curve parallel to the lining. The back drips needed three easy stitches. The lace is free-falling past the armpits, but around the waist area it was also tucked back and stitched there. 

It seems as if Jareth’s own coat has windows cut out of the lace in front, near the buttons, but for me, I was so sure that it would have disrupted the delicate balance and caused drooping in random places, that I just forwent it. 

And there you have it! This feels like it was too long, but maybe it’s not because it is really so important to talk about this part. There are a million ways to screw it up, that I myself didn’t always escape from. As always, I hope that was, erm, helpful.

-J 

[ben-trickey]

The Myth-Making Marketing of Amina al-Sirafi

Shannon Chakraborty’s 2023 novel The Adventures of Amina al-Sirafi thrives off the tension between the focus on accuracy in historical narratives and the embellished storytelling of myth and legend. The plot of the novel features the notorious former-pirate and nakhudha (shipmaster) Amina al-Sirafi telling the story, in her own words (“even if they’re rude”), of how she was lured out of retirement for one final life-changing opportunity. The story itself takes place in and around the medieval Indian Ocean and directly discusses the interwoven cultures of the countries of northern Africa, the Middle East, and Asia. While most of the book is directly from Amina’s perspective, Chakraborty frames the narrative by including the character of a scribe named Jamal, who is writing down Amina’s accounts of the novel’s events. Jamal opens and closes the novel as well as including interludes throughout that provide collected folktales and historical documents that add context and weight to Amina’s adventure. This deliberate attention to the myth-making present alongside historical evidence is highlighted best by the end of Jamal’s introduction: “But for the sake of honesty, another truth will be confessed. Her adventures are not only being told as evidence of God’s marvels. They are being told to entertain.” Chakraborty, a self-described “lover of history,” is intentionally leaning into the historical conventions of the storytelling present in fantastical collections of tales like One Thousand and One Nights, and the marketing and design of the book emphasizes Amina and Jamal’s connection to this storytelling tradition.

After the success of her first series of books The Daevabad Trilogy, it’s clear that Harper Voyager (the fantasy and sci-fi imprint for HarperCollins) went all in on the marketing of The Adventures of Amina al-Sirafi, the first book in a potential new trilogy. Helped by Chakraborty’s active social media presence on Twitter and Instagram, the marketing campaign for the novel officially began in September 2022 (six months before the novel’s release) with a cover reveal posted on social media by Chakraborty, Harper Voyager, and Tor.com (a prominent online publisher of Fantasy and Science Fiction), though it’s worth noting that Chakraborty had been posting about her process of writing and publishing the novel for months prior (such as the “page passes” I’ve included below).

While the cover already evoked the kind of legendary pirate story readers might be looking for with its giant tentacled sea creature attacking a pirate ship, Chakraborty and Harper Voyager UK utilized the release of the UK cover, an allusion to the Islamic illuminated manuscripts of the medieval Middle East, to emphasize the historical fantasy narrative of the novel. October also began Harper Voyager and Harper Voyager UK’s giveaways to advertise the novel, including foil proofs with the illuminated UK cover.

In January 2023, Chakraborty and Harper Voyager began to advertise pre-orders for the book, including some copies that came with dagger-shaped, wooden bookmarks somewhat resembling Amina’s khanjar, which she received from her pirate grandfather. This limited offer of bookmarks played into the aesthetics of the pirate fantasy of the book while also encouraging readers to pre-order for a chance to get a gift unique to the book that any reader could use.

In February, alongside an excerpt of the book, free to read on Tor.com, Chakraborty released the image of “The Map of the Great Indian Ocean” showing the setting of the novel, while also incorporating historical references as easter eggs in the illustration. And on February 28, a brief book trailer was shared on Chakraborty’s social media alongside the book’s release.

With the benefit of one successful trilogy under her belt and the marketing team at Harper Voyager, Chakraborty was able to create an aesthetic and narrative for her medieval pirate, historical fantasy novel months in advance of the book’s release. The marketing’s emphasis on visual posts and artifacts that readers could look at, win, and potentially buy provided a clear sense of anticipation for the story that inspired readers to learn more, discuss online, and pre-order the novel. Chakraborty had a clear intention with the structure and design of the storytelling, alluding to medieval Islamic folktales and pirate legends, and the marketing reflected and effectively built upon that intention with the design of its six-month social media plan.  

[lily-sinful]

karts & coasters complete!

so i know this looks kind of like a horrible spaghetti mess, which is good because it's supposed to! it took me a long time to come up with a good theme for this scenario - it starts you off with a pair of nice wooden coasters and a couple of oversized go-karts tracks, and my instinct is to lean into that and the heavily wooded landscape and go for an out of the way park with older designs. unfortunately, the actual ride selection you get is actually pretty modern, and frankly vanilla rct1 didn't have quite the right selection to go fully old-school with things, so i went a different way with it.

the coasters it starts you off with have some pretty striking visuals, but stat and design-wise, they're solid but not spectacular. it put me in mind of smaller local theme parks that have a good custom coaster, and enough to keep you entertained for a day, but not enough to be a big tourist thing outside of the immediate area. between that and the fact that the starting map is a monotype forest, i aimed for a "small park purchased and run into the ground by large chain" feeling. i diversified the forest outside the park area to make it look more natural, while getting rid of most of the trees inside the park. i focused entirely on coaster type variety, while keeping the actual coasters to as similar of a design philosophy as i could - everything has a large footprint and focuses on speed and curves, with minimal special elements. i also tried to minimize building additional paths and just hooked everything up to the basic network. i think the end result came out pretty close to what i wanted - all of the coasters are good but not great, and there's a very deliberate lack of coherency to everything. as a bonus, the park was so full by the end of the scenario that the game was starting to lag, and i'm pretty sure if i weren't using openrct i would have hit the sprite limit.

i think the thing i'm proudest of with regards to my design goals for this is the way that the wooden coasters just kinda fade into the background in the screenshot. at the start of the scenario they completely dominate the park and at the end of it they're almost hard to spot. everything that made the park what it is at the start is still there physically, but not in any recogniseable way.

...that last line made me feel a bit of grim existential dread so i'm counting this as a success

[foreverlogical]

“Segregation now, segregation tomorrow, segregation forever,” was Alabama Gov. George Wallace’s (D) pledge in 1963. It would be great if attitudes like that were buried long ago in the landfill of racist history. But looking at Alabama today, it can feel like not much has changed. 

Taking a page right out of Wallace’s 60-year-old playbook, Republican state legislators are fighting back against a direct order from the Supreme Court to redraw racially gerrymandered electoral maps that disadvantage Black voters.  

The legislature dragged its feet and finally responded to the court’s June ruling in Allen v. Milligan by submitting a new map with one hitch — legislators freely admit that it doesn’t meet the requirements for an additional majority-Black district. Earlier this month, judges on a federal district court panel threw out the new map and made a point of writing that they were “deeply troubled” by the legislators’ deliberate nose-thumbing.  

That was good news. But these Alabama lawmakers clearly think they can win by losing, because now they can appeal to the Supreme Court again. The Alabama House Speaker, unafraid to say the quiet part out loud, declared that since the court’s ruling against them last time was 5-4, “there’s just one judge” that needs to “see something different” for them to win this time around. 

Meanwhile, a federal court is ordering that yet another district map be drawn up by a special master and a cartographer. (When was the last time you heard of a cartographer?) The dispute sends the state's redistricting process back almost to square one. And if it isn’t resolved in time, elections could eventually go forward under the old, discriminatory map.  

And if anybody thought Alabama was alone in trying to turn back the clock, Florida has jumped into the fray. Just days before the federal court in Alabama rejected the legislature’s new map, a state judge in Florida nixed a redistricting plan there. That plan also would disenfranchise Black voters. Florida Gov. Ron DeSantis (R) is its biggest fan.   

Other states, including Louisiana, Georgia, South Carolina and Texas, are embroiled in court cases over their maps, too.   

There are probably plenty of people who will brush this off as “just politics.” But for millions of 

Americans, this is personal. And painful. 

A couple of weeks ago I had the honor to speak at the 60th anniversary of the March on Washington. I’m a millennial, and in my speech, I told the crowd what I know in my heart: that my entire life was made possible by the people who fought 60 years ago for me. To see voting rights under attack again all these years later is a gut punch. 

So we do what civil rights advocates did decades ago, and we fight. Back in the 1960s, the remedy was federal legislation. It can be again; there have been two bills in Congress recently that are designed to protect voting rights against attacks, including redistricting abuses like the ones we’re seeing in places like Alabama and Florida. These bills, the John Lewis Voting Rights Advancement Act and the Freedom to Vote Act, came really close to passing as a package before GOP opposition and failure to reform the filibuster killed them in the Senate last year.   

But that doesn’t mean giving up; the Freedom to Vote Act was reintroduced by Democrats in July. The John Lewis Act will be, too, as its sponsor Rep. Terri Sewell (D-Ala.) says she plans a reintroduction. Sewell, of course, is from Alabama — the eye of the storm.  

And while there might not be much chance that the current GOP-controlled House will do the right thing on voting rights — not when Speaker Kevin McCarthy (R-Calif.) falsely compares the latest Alabama map scheme to redistricting in New York —  we keep fighting.   

We can thank the courts for handing voters a partial victory with rulings against racist maps. But the real victory needs to come next November when we go to the polls with a clear focus: Only vote for those who will protect our voting rights. 

 Svante Myrick is president of People for the American Way.   

[kanisema-blog]

To Whom It No Longer Concerns

Chapter 9: To the girl you cheated me with

The hours stretched on as I stood over my workbench, the strain of the day seeping into my legs and back. Each movement—lifting heavy materials, bending to inspect details, sanding rough edges—was a reminder of the physicality that came with my craft. It was exhausting, yes, but there was also satisfaction in it, knowing that every ounce of effort brought the piece closer to completion.

The afternoon sun streamed through the workshop windows, casting golden light over the space. Eunice arrived with her usual energy, holding a small cage in her hands. Inside was a tiny bird with bright yellow feathers, its head cocked curiously as it chirped.

“I brought my friend!” she announced, setting the cage down carefully. “Isn’t he adorable?”

Mae looked up from her spot by the window, where she’d been scrolling on her phone. “You’re seriously keeping a bird now? What’s next, a pet squirrel?”

Eunice ignored her, grinning at me instead. “I need name suggestions. Something cute but not cliché.”

I leaned closer to the cage, watching as the bird hopped around. “What about Sunny? It suits him.”

“Too predictable,” Eunice said, wrinkling her nose.

Jessica, who was cutting fabric at her workstation, chimed in. “How about Apollo? It sounds strong and radiant, like the sun.”

Eunice clapped her hands together. “I love it! Apollo it is.”

Mae groaned, tossing her phone onto the table. “While you’re naming birds, I’m out here planning my next big purchase—a car. I’m so over commuting. Public transport is a nightmare.”

Jessica glanced up. “Finally giving up the bus life, huh? What kind of car are you thinking?”

“Something small and fuel-efficient. I don’t need anything fancy,” Mae replied. “I just need to stop relying on unreliable schedules and crowded seats.”

Jessica smiled. “Well, good for you. Speaking of plans, I’ve been mapping out my vacation. A week by the beach, soaking up the sun, and absolutely no work.”

“That sounds amazing,” I said, wiping my hands on my apron. “Where are you going?”

“Some little resort up north. Quiet, private, and perfect for unwinding. I’ll probably bring my sketchbook too. Who knows, maybe I’ll come back inspired.”

Before I could respond, the sound of the door opening caught all our attention. A woman walked in, her heels clicking against the wooden floor. At first glance, she seemed unremarkable—dressed stylishly but understated, her long hair framing her face perfectly. But as she stepped closer, something about her sparked a faint, uneasy recognition.

It wasn’t until she stopped near the counter that it hit me. Shira.

The most popular girl from high school. The girl every guy wanted and every girl envied. The girl Gerald had cheated on me with.

She looked different now, more refined, but her beauty remained intact. She glanced around the workshop, her gaze lingering briefly on each of us before settling on me. Her eyes narrowed slightly, as if she, too, was placing a distant memory.

“Excuse me,” she said, her tone polite but cool, with an air of formality that matched her flawless appearance. “I was told this workshop takes custom requests?”

Jessica, always quick to take charge in these situations, stepped forward with a welcoming smile. “We do. What are you looking to have made?”

The woman reached into her sleek designer bag and pulled out a small leather notebook. Her movements were deliberate, almost practiced, as she flipped through the pages. The faint scent of expensive perfume lingered in the air. Finally, she stopped at a page and handed it to Jessica. “I’d like a display case for a set of antique perfume bottles. Something elegant, with a mix of glass and wood. Perhaps mahogany for the base? I’ll trust your expertise on the details.”

Jessica examined the rough sketch and began jotting notes, her pencil moving swiftly across her own notepad. “This is definitely something we can do,” she said, glancing up. “Do you have a specific deadline in mind?”

“As soon as possible,” the woman replied with a small nod. “But I value quality over speed. I’d prefer it done right than rushed.”

“Understood,” Jessica said, already sketching out preliminary ideas. “Would you like us to contact you once we have a design ready for review?”

“Yes, please,” the woman said. Her gaze, which had been focused on Jessica, suddenly shifted and landed on me. She froze, her perfectly arched brows furrowing slightly as her expression softened with recognition.

“Wait…” Her voice carried a hint of disbelief. “Anicka Abson?”

My stomach twisted at the sound of my name on her lips. It was like hearing a ghost call out to me, dragging a part of the past I had buried long ago into the present. I forced myself to meet her gaze, keeping my face neutral. “That’s me,” I said flatly.

She blinked, and a slow, almost hesitant smile formed on her lips. “I thought you looked familiar. Gerald used to mention you... quite a lot, actually.”

My heart skipped a beat at the mention of his name, but not in the way it once had. Instead, a cold wave of memories washed over me���of whispered lies, stolen glances, and the cruel truth that had shattered everything I thought I knew. I tightened my grip on the edge of the worktable, grounding myself in the present. “That was a long time ago,” I replied, my voice steady but distant.

“It was,” she agreed, her smile fading slightly as she tilted her head, studying me with what looked like genuine curiosity. “For what it’s worth, Gerald and I broke up in college. Haven’t spoken to him in years. Life, I suppose.”

I nodded, though the gesture felt hollow. “Life,” I echoed, not trusting myself to say anything more.

Jessica handed her the notebook back, her voice breaking the tension in the air. “We’ll be in touch about your request once we have the initial designs ready.”

The woman—Shira, though she hadn’t introduced herself—took the notebook with a graceful nod. She turned back to me for a moment longer, her lips parting slightly as if she wanted to say more, but then she thought better of it. With a faint, unreadable smile, she adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder.

“You’ve built something impressive here, Anicka. It’s good to see you doing well,” she said softly before making her way toward the door.

The sound of her heels clicking against the wooden floor echoed in the quiet workshop. When the door finally closed behind her, it felt like a spell had been broken. The tension in my chest lingered, though, like the faint scent of her perfume that still hung in the air.

Eunice broke the silence first. “Well, that was... unexpected.”

Mae snorted, folding her arms as she leaned against the wall. “Tell me about it. She walked in here like she owned the place. Total ice queen vibes.”

Jessica frowned slightly, her brow furrowed. “I don’t know. She seemed polite enough. A little distant, maybe, but not unfriendly.”

Eunice shrugged. “I’m just stuck on the fact she’s that Shira. High school drama in real life. What are the odds?”

I didn’t respond. My eyes were fixed on the tools scattered across my workbench, but my mind was far from here. The past, with its sharp edges and bitter truths, had a way of creeping back when you least expected it.

Today, it had walked into the workshop with a polished smile, an air of confidence, and an unwelcome reminder of everything I had tried so hard to forget.

For a moment, none of us spoke. The silence felt heavy, as if even my friends didn’t know how to break the tension. Finally, Mae sighed and reached for her phone.

“Well, that was enough drama for one day,” she muttered, scrolling absently. “Let’s get back to work before we all start overthinking this.”

I nodded, grateful for the distraction. But as I picked up my sketchbook, my hands trembled slightly. No matter how far I thought I’d come, the ghosts of my past were never too far behind.

[rockermazy]

A stream-of-thought essay about why Epic always misses the mark when it comes to rendering concept art - (it's deliberate)

Someone sent me this tiktok in Discord. https://www.tiktok.com/@squid3363/photo/7400670204356791582 It is a common gripe in the Fortnite player community: Epic seems to have a hard time rendering community concept art into in-game skins. Some renderings are spot-on - many are not. The first skin that ever made me go "WTF?" was Lorenzo from the Chapter 4: Season 3 Battle Pass  (not in the TikTok). The final render is on the left. The original is on the right.

I wasn't thrilled with the render. I would have liked gray skin. It would've matched better. But then again, I never squinted at the concept art hard enough. I deadass thought - hoped - Lorenzo would have cat ears.  To be fair, much of the concept's flair relied on that money-shot - seemingly with strategically-placed fans-in in the studio during the photo shoot.

I mean, I wouldn't mind having my coattails and tie ever defying gravity during a match. (My main is an anime skin - I know I'm seen from across the map. I've accepted my fate u.u ).

But I understand if Epic anticipated that most players would not appreciate gravity defiance.

Moving on...

The next WTF? moment I felt was with Medusa. I wasn't head over heels for the concept, but she was passable. But I knew a friend that was. The final render... made me feel bad, even for said friend :/

So I thought "Maybe it's the poly count?". I mean round corners = more faces, right? Epic manages to break something new with each update, we can't afford a buggy battle pass item, no?

Aphrodite? Maybe it's the polycount and they want to stay on-brand as Fortnite. Maybe they don't want to be confused with League of Legends? Maybe fantasy-esque drip isn't allowed?

And the parade of misses go on. It's all in the TikTok slide. I tried to look for a pattern. For some of them, it seems to be the face meshes. Namely the sausage lips.

Maybe it takes research to re-rig a new facial mesh for all of the emotes to work properly. As someone whos dabbled with animation in IMVU, which has a jillion different head meshes as far as the eye can see, I can concur - making the same "move this around instructions" look good on "everyone" is a royal pain in the ass. Virtually possible without making unique animations for each skeleton/mesh)... ...or maybe the department head just really likes sausage lips. I'm not one to judge. Some like 'em older and milfy, I dunno. Except some heads seem to have smaller lips, to negate that... And then there was Vikora.

She is from a summer quest - the same season one of the Lorenzos came out, (there's a couple of those). I can't recall which, but I have her. Something always seemed off about this one, Like, it was unique. It was fun - but in the OC-unique in the way that you sort of felt half of the flair was tamed. Maybe the proportions? I dunno. Whatever. I just wanted her set's wrap. I'd never seen her concept before seeing the tiktok today, and now, I want to fight someone. W.T.F. The hair. Just the hair. The original artist had made sure to put the bigger tuft on her left so that it would not interfere with aiming down sights. There was no reason to remove her hair. And why change the stockings? What was wrong with her stockings? Fortnite has multiple female outfits with fishnet stockings - "PG" arguments will fall on deaf ears.

And her belt chain? Changing the chain links from hoops to squares seems arbitrary AF. It was the chain that gave me the passing thought: "This is the behavior of an artist that got smitten by someone else's design, but doesn't want to get accused of stealing... but also really really doesn't want to give credit, either".I'm not against those that get smitten. I have gotten smitten. You cannot fight the smitten - you can only crawl for months - if not years - making changes that you will only ever 70 percent comfortable be with until you just...get used to your abomination, to the sacrilege you've committed against someone else's perfect design, just to make it "your own" and avoid cancelation, (Or in my case, I just didn't know how to 3D mesh, but IMVU allows what's essentially crude kitbashing. I know what my global PFP was supposed to be)... ...But those are little artist problems. It's just weird that a big company would do this while little artists are literally throwing their designs at you to be rendered. Then the possibility struck me: All of Epic's misses are deliberate, but for entirely legal reasons. Possible reasons:

1. Fear of Future Royalty Demands

Artists are human. Sometimes, those humans want money. Sometimes, even when humans agree on how much money should be exchanged for a good or service, (even if it is no money at all), some of those humans still want more money. They will take you to court to get said money.

In a somewhat related tidbit, I vaguely remember VivziePop, the creator of Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss, was once quoted as saying that she won't allow cameos of her fan's OCs in her shows specifically for this reason.

Legal issues can be an annoying little thing that can dismantle an empire. Epic is no different.

Epic might be "missing" the mark on purpose with its concept art in order to meet some nebulous" internet common law"  "30% Rule" in order to protect themselves later down the road.

The laws around art are changing, which bring me to my next proposed reason for missing the mark:

1. Fear of AI

Now, please hear me out: I am not accusing any community concept artists of doing anything. I'm just saying that in the age of AI, the possibility of this happening is becoming more likely.

It is entirely possible that some of the concepts presented to Epic could be AI-generated. I am not saying the concept art themselves are AI, mind you - I'm guessing by the consistent art style used in the surveys, that these images are all rendered in-house by the same team at Epic (But hell - someday, I could be wrong on that assumption).

I'm suggesting the general designs could be AI generated.

Is design separate from the art depicting that design? I dunno. I'm not a lawyer. IMO, seeing as how most AI models at the time of writing struggle to create a consistent character sheet, I would think not. Design requires consistency, which most models seem to lack.

In the US, AI-generated images cannot obtain copyright protection - not without some human element.

If Epic makes the mistake of accepting a concept from the community that turns out to originate from an AI generation, they run the risk of losing the rights to said character.

Epic HAS to make human changes to the concept art, in order to cover their arses from bad actors in the future.

I just wish they were visually "good" changes.

Ok. That's the end of that theory-essay. Time to go shower and gently pet my plants

[queenlucythevaliant]

Here I dreamt I was an architect

If all roads led to Cair Paravel, the Narnians had King Edmund to thank. The humor of that fact was not lost on Edmund himself. Once, lost and frightened in the thrall of the White Witch, he’s mused to himself that when he became King of Narnia, his first task would be to make some decent roads. This, of all things, ended up being true enough. The crown had scarcely settled on Edmund’s head before he began sketching new arteries onto old maps of Narnia.

Edmund, of course, had no expertise as an engineer, so he asked about and eventually contracted the services of a dwarf named Rawlin. Rawlin knew stone and stonemasonry better than anyone, it was said, and he had a canniness for the lay of the land. Together, Edmund and Rawlin designed and constructed many wondrous things.

The roads came first: a vast network of stone streets stretching from the Archen Pass to the market thoroughfare at Beaversdam to the Great Northern Aqueduct, another of Edmund’s endeavors. But there was also the Harbor of Cair Paravel, a maze of docks and piers that sprang forth over an unused stretch of coast a little way from the castle, and the series of levees built at Glasswater to minimize flooding in the spring, fortifications on the Cair, and watchtowers, and oh so many other things.

Never did Edmund mar Narnia’s beautiful wilderness with industry; rather, he and the Narnians who worked under him built beautiful structures that grew out from the landscape like they’d always been there.

Not for nothing was his family’s reign called a Golden Age.

So, when Edmund, ten again, returned to the place that had once been Cair Paravel, it was little wonder that he did not recognize it.

“Don't you remember — it was the very day before the ambassadors came from the King of Calormen. Don't you remember planting the orchard outside the north gate of Cair Paravel?” said Peter, nearly frantic with nervous energy.

Edmund gazed at the ruin, trying to imagine Cair Paravel as it had once been. A wide stone lane from the gate to the road. A smaller flagstone pathway leading into the orchard. He remembered sitting across his desk from Lilygloves and Pomona and good old Rawlin, architectural plans spread before them, deliberating over which way the trees would want to grow.

“This must be all rot!” he exclaimed. “To begin with, we didn't plant the orchard slap up against the gate. We wouldn't have been such fools.”

It was only the most pressing objection. Moment by moment, he thought of more and more.

If Cair Paravel were on an island, I would have built a bridge to the mainland. If we were really in Narnia, my harbor would be just south of us and we would have seen it down the coast when we were on the beach. And we wouldn’t have wandered about in the forest; we would have found the main road before long. And what about my beautiful curtain wall? It cannot have disappeared.

But Edmund was wrong. It was Cair Paravel. It was Narnia. The treasure chamber still stood, even if the harbor and the roads, his outer curtain wall and battlements and fortified towers, and even the very land itself had changed and gone away. There was his armor and his favorite longsword. There was his signet ring, emblazoned with his kingly seal. There was the marble bust Rawlin had chiseled of him, looking so much older and graver than he did now. 

Peter and the girls claimed their Christmas gifts, but Edmund slipped his signet ring into the pocket of his trousers when no one was looking. He had marked so many structures with that seal— structures that were supposed to last forever.

Long after the four children had ascended the stairs that night, Edmund couldn’t sleep. Instead, he paced the place where his great curtain wall had stood and remembered the words of a poem he had once encountered in Professor Kirke’s library: “And on the pedestal, these words appear: 'My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings; look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!' Nothing beside remains round the decay of that colossal Wreck."

.

Inspired in part by this post by @saxifrage-wreath

[vampire-wizard-solidarity]

hope you wouldn’t mind me adding onto your post because i’ve been thinking about the way totk implements geoglyphs from a game design standpoint pretty much from the day they came out.

in botw, memories are designed in a way to inherently reward exploration. they are a little in-built geoguesser exercise, finding them relies on your knowledge of the world. interacting with them at first can lead to one of two experiences: 1. you haven’t yet explored the area where the memory is, and you’re both confused but intrigued as to where it could be – most memory photographs also show off landmarks, such as the castle, the bridge over lake hylia, the bazaar etc, it makes them both easier to find and fills you with excitement and finding these pretty places. it encourages you to go out and explore and find the landmarks pictured. 2. you have explored the areas the photos depict, and your knowledge of the game world is rewarded by being able to go there and claim your memory. it’s also generally satisfying to look at a memory picture and go “hey i know where that is”, it encourages you to interact with the world not just as a collection of story important locations, but rather a vast wilderness in which even the seemingly inconsequential little bits of land can hide secrets, treasures etc.

the geoglyphs, however? they are huge and can be spotted miles away. they don’t really encourage thorough exploration because they’re RIGHT there. if you simply go into the region where a geoglyph is it’s pretty much guaranteed you’d find it, if not simply by looking around for five seconds, then definitely by unlocking the tower and looking over the region. it encourages minimal exploration, if anything, due to just how huge and easy to spot geoglyphs are. and if that’s not bad enough, the quest that actually explains what geoglyphs are to you leads you to a literal map with the locations of each glyph. like, okay, for some fucking reason the devs thought that i might struggle finding the giant glowing picture of a castle on a side of the mountain, and gave me a map guiding me to it. why? why is even any semblance of exploration or work scrubbed from the process?

i’ve struggled to come up with the answer at first, but now it seems pretty clear to me: they just didn’t find a way to make linear storytelling work in a system designed to encourage exploration.

botw’s memories are non-linear by design. you can judge whether that choice works for botw’s story or not, but at least it’s clearly a deliberate choice. in botw, you will not unlock all the memories at once. every memory is a little vignette into the world pre-calamity, and it doesn’t actually explore any plot. the plot is known to you from the very beginning: calamity came, possessed the tech, caused an apocalypse. this is knowledge that you are required to be told before you even can get the memory quest. the memories don’t answer the question what, i.e. what happened, they answer the question why, i.e. why it happened. they don’t explore any plot because you already know the entire plot, they instead explore character, they are fundamentally a character study into zelda. as such, they are designed just like any other element of the game: with the ability for you to get bored, leave it, and come back later. because each memory is a vignette, you don’t need to see them all at once, and as such their gameplay element is also more engaging: they don’t have to worry that the next memory you want to unlock would be too hard, or too tedious for you, so you leave it to come back to later. this is just part of their design, just like with the shrines, or the side quests, or any other element of the game.

totk, however? it tells you a linear story with plot points and a progression of events. it’s not designed to be able to be consumed in small semi-self contained chunks that come together into a whole later. if you do a part of the story and leave the rest for later, you might come back and not remember an important plot point offhandedly stated five memories ago! non-linearity already complicates the story enough, if you leave to do other things between the glyphs you’ll only get more confused. a linear story told non-linearly may fail, but if you watch it all at once at least the information will be fresh enough in your mind to put the pieces together post fact. totk geoglyphs don’t encourage exploration, because it goes against the story experience they want you to have. that’s why it gives you a map, that’s why it sheepishly proposes a story order without fully explaining it, because it took a system from botw, and tried to tell a story that fundamentally didn’t work within that system. and, well, they can’t stray too far from the structure of botw, be it because they’re lazy, or because they feel confined by the nature of totk as a sequel, or simply because linearity in a sequel to botw would make a lot of botw fans mad, either way the answer as to why geoglyphs are Like That is pretty clear: they want you to consume the story all at once, to lead to minimal confusion, that’s why the geoglyphs are so piss easy to find. they want to tell a linear story with stuff that works in linear stories, like plot twists and rising stakes, but they have no idea how to adapt a linear story into a medium in which the player experiences that story non-linearly, so they keep the cutscenes the way they are, and as damage control encourage the players to experience the story at once, by making it very easy to do, so that even if they can’t experience the story properly, they’ll at least have all the information about the plot figured out. they took botw’s frameworks and tried to shoehorn in linear elements without actually knowing how to gracefully marry the two, and made a weird amalgamation at the expense of both elements.

and that’s why most people who experience the story will probably know sonia dies before they find the memory where she actually does, but the story still treats it as a high stakes plot twist and moment of surprise and tragedy. that’s why it seems like the game doesn’t actually reward you for exploration when it comes to the story. that’s why the main story is not all that emotionally impactful despite supposedly being more epic and high stakes than botw was.

to conclude with a little tangent: this is one of the reasons why i find the hateno mayoral election side quest so laughable. it concludes with the message of “maybe both new and old can combine in order to make our town even better!” and it’s almost obnoxiously obvious in the meta-commentary on totk as a game, but what’s funny about this meta-commentary is that totk as a game doesn’t actually show me how a combination of new and old makes it better. if anything, i was much more optimistic towards the idea before totk came out, and then the game showed me how both elements cheapen each other and bring out the worst of both when combined in such a clumsy and haphazard manner. the moral of the hateno election shouldn’t have been “new and old are better combined”, it should’ve been “we should kill the artistic hubris that makes us hyperfixate exclusively on unused ideas and feedback from our previous project because such an obsession leads to garbage like this”

Reusing the memory system from botw for the tears of the dragon storyline in totk was such a terrible decision on so many different levels that it’s honestly kind of impressive.

While the botw memory system had flaws of its own, there was one small but significant thing that worked in its favour: botw’s memories were largely separate from the main plot in the past, and have absolutely no bearing on the story being told in the present. Aside from a few specific instances (ie the calamity striking, the ceremony, Link and Zelda becoming closer) the memories are all self-contained moments that emphasize character development over driving the story. Because there’s no major narrative throughline between them, it gives players more freedom to discover in any order regardless of how much they’ve progressed through the main quest without running the risk of stumbling across a memory that ruins something else later on in the game.

(This got long so the rest of my analysis is going under the cut.)

The biggest change between the memories from botw and the dragon’s tears from totk is definitely what kind of information these cutscenes relay to you as the player. Botw’s memories are primarily snapshots of small interpersonal moments that hold very little significance to the greater narrative taking place in the past. Totk’s memories are the greater narrative. With only one major exception -that I’ll touch on in a sec-, every cutscene in the dragon’s tears shows a crucial moment of story development with no time left to explore the characters driving that story forwards. There’s no organic moment revealing, say, a quirk of Rauru’s that Mineru finds annoying, or Sonia’s sense of humour, or any of our literal Main Villain Ganondorf’s motivations for going to war with Hyrule. If there’s any moments of character focus they only happen in ways that advance the plot (meaning the only real character focus is on the characters totk wants the entire universe to orbit around, namely Rauru and Zelda), and as such it’s harder to bring myself to care about what happens to anyone.

To illustrate the point I’m trying to make here, compare the memories of the champions Link regains during the divine beast quests to the conversations with the ancient sages at the end of each temple. The memories make passing mentions of the ongoing preparations for the calamity, but the real purpose of those scenes is showcasing who the champions were as people before their deaths and give us a reason to mourn them even though we know at the start of our journey that they’re all long gone. In contrast, the conversations with the ancient sages are all about the events of the imprisoning war and their promise to Zelda that their descendants will come to Link’s aid in the future, very obviously copy pasted for each of the five times that cutscene is brought up (which is a particularly egregious moment of bad quest design but that’s a rant for another time) in such a way that none of the 5 incarnations of that cutscene revealing anything new about the ancient sages as people to the point where none of them even show their faces. I care about Daruk because the game shows me that he cares deeply about the wellbeing of his fellow champions and brings out the best in others. Why the fuck should I care about the nameless, faceless sage of water? What’s there to move me about their struggles if my only interactions with the sages are a series of exposition dumps? If the game can’t give me a reason to sincerely care about its main characters, the whole rest of the story is meaningless.

(As an aside, I get the feeling someone on the dev team caught on to the issue I’m describing here, because the tea party memory sticks out like a sore thumb from the rest of the dragon tear cutscenes. It’s such a jarring change of pace to have the otherwise plot-stuffed dragon’s tears come to a screeching halt for a scene where Sonia sits down with Zelda to have a cute little tea party and talk about absolutely nothing of significance that the whole thing almost feels like it was hastily tacked on to the story later. Given that the next (chronological) memory sees Sonia fall victim to an unceremonious death by chiropractor, it almost feels like someone realized that Sonia really doesn’t do or say much in the scenes before she dies and threw together the tea party scene so players would have at least one moment to look back on fondly when she’s fridged. But I digress)

The story told in the dragon’s tears is a highly linear one. But the open-ended nature of botw’s memory system remains, meaning that these tears can be found and viewed in any order. At first this doesn’t seem so bad, since the first two tears you’re likely to find if you follow the game’s intended path are also the chronological first and second of the memories you can discover through these geoglyph tears. But after those first two, the game kinda gives up on guiding you towards these tears in a way that flows well with the story they wrote: the closest tear on the map to the two the game initially guides you towards correlates to one of the penultimate scenes of that entire storyline, while the next scene chronologically is found almost halfway across the map. As such, it’s all but guaranteed that you’ll spoil yourself in some way without using either a guide or the (somewhat unintuitive and never fully explained by the game) little map in the forgotten temple. Finding memories in order didn’t matter so much in botw because the scenes you could find still worked well as standalone scenes before you discovered every memory and pieced together the full picture, and the game is never trying to surprise me about the characters’ fates at the end of this storyline: hell the first memory you’re guided to shows the calamity striking. But in contrast, viewing a dragon’s tear at the wrong time can completely ruin the story they’re trying to tell in those cutscenes. During my playthrough, for example, the first tear I found after the game stopped guiding me to them showed Ganondorf removing Sonia’s stone from her dead body. At this point I had known Sonia existed for all of like an hour, so every subsequent appearance she made was ruined for me by the fact that I already knew she was nothing but cannon fodder to be killed off for the sake of another character’s pain (Rauru and Zelda a-fucking-gain). I expected to be pissed that it was so easy to spoil myself, or maybe sad in passing that a character with her potential was so underutilized, but instead I just felt… tired. I wasn’t even halfway to the first settlement and already I was completely numb to the story the game was trying to tell.

But the worst was yet to come. And oh boy was it ever a low point for storytelling in the Zelda series. Remember how I said up above that the memories in botw had no connection to the story in the present? Let’s just say the same cannot be said for the dragon’s tears.

It’s May 2023. I’ve just finished the sage of wind questline. I still have hope that the story the game is trying to tell will be good. Deciding that I’ll go to Goron city next, I head towards the Thyplo skyview tower to expand my map, catch a glimpse of a nearby geoglyph from the air, and glide over to check it out. This geoglyph shows me a memory that not only recaps the entire dragon tear storyline, but also ends on a bit of foreshadowing about Zelda’s fate that’s about as subtle as a brick to the fucking face. By exploring -the thing the game claims it prioritized above all else in the design of its world and quests- I’d once again been hit with spoilers for a major story detail.

My main objective in this game is to find Zelda. It’s the only driving factor behind my journey towards all these different regions. The current big mystery I’m supposed to solve is why Zelda’s causing so much hell for the people of Hyrule. I now knew exactly where she was and what the deal with her appearances in other parts of Hyrule was, and I’d found it completely by accident by doing something the game says over and over again that it wants me to do. Unlike with Sonia’s death, this time I was a mess of emotions. I was pissed the fuck off that this open-world game had punished me twice already for trying to explore. More than that, I was disappointed that a game I had been so excited to play, from a series I had so many fond memories of, had let me down like this. With every subsequent quest where the sages and I chased a Zelda I knew was fake to our next objective, and every NPC wondering where she was that I couldn’t tell the truth to, that disappointment grew. The entire rest of the main story was ruined for me before I had progressed past 1/4th of the regional quests and a third of the dragon’s tears. There was no more sense of anticipation or mystery. I finished the rest of the game with a bitter taste in my mouth and haven’t touched it again since.

Do I think this story could have been good? Honestly, I don’t know, and by now I don’t really care either (that’s a lie. I care so so much and that’s probably why I hate totk as much as I do). But it’s all irrelevant, because like Cinderella’s stepsister cutting off her own heel so she can cram her foot into a glass slipper that’s never going to fit, totk is sabotaged by the devs’ insistence that everything fit itself into a world they custom-made for botw. This isn’t a new formula that the series is following, it’s Nintendo slapping a new coat of paint on an existing skeleton, and I’m not optimistic to see what this particular approach has in store for the Zelda series. Especially not at the price they’re charging for it.

[erynalasse]

Do you suppose 'The Breaking of the World' means anything east beyond Rhun? I must imagine that between the War of Wrath and the Fall of Numenor, the bent of history might well be inverted depending on who experienced what - the War of Wrath destroyed the West, but it freed the East from Morgoth's reach where the elves (presumably) never bothered, with the possible exception of the Avari. And the Fall of Numenor is just straight up the wholesale elimination of the colonial power dominating everything.

I just have this funny image in my head of eastern scholars of Middle Earth being like, 'Cataclysm? Tragedy? Breaking of the world? We became free for the first time in all our history.'

As one does, I immediately had imposter syndrome about my own memory and went to go reread Chapter 17: “The Coming of Men Into the West.” LOTS of interesting stuff there.

First of all, a quick geography recap: the men originally came from Hildórien in the east. The exact location of this place is a bit screwy, but the maps seem to say it’s closer to Rhûn than Mirkwood. Definitely nowhere in Beleriand! So the origins of men are likely to be somewhat close to the region you’re interested in later in time: falling off the edges of Tolkien’s fuzzily bordered maps.

Here’s the interesting thing to me: Morgoth did reach out to Men in their original lands to the east to see what he could do with them. Morgoth sent spies there to plant evil but had some mixed success.

“To corrupt or destroy whatsoever arose new and fair was ever the chief desire of Morgoth; and doubtless he had this purpose also in his errand: by fear and lies to make Men the foes of the Eldar, and bring them up out of the east against Beleriand. But this design was slow to ripen, and was never wholly achieved; for Men (it is said) were at first very few in number, whereas Morgoth grew afraid of the growing power and union of the Eldar and came back to Angband, leaving behind at that time but few servants, and those of less might and cunning.”

And what’s even more interesting to me is that this memory doesn’t come down to us through the Men themselves! Finrod, who first found Bëor, was only told, “A darkness lies behind us… and we do not wish to return thither even in thought.” And furthermore, this darkness in the Men’s hearts is explicitly compared to the the Kinslaying and the Doom for the Noldor. These are telling examples because those events were partially self-inflicted. We can argue divisions of fault—I sure have—but the Noldor aren’t blameless. If we take this metaphor somewhat literally, neither are the Men for their darkness.

In the discipline of human geography, mass migrations can have both push and pull factors: aka reasons to go, or reasons to leave. I think we’re looking at both things here. Melkor clearly got up to some shenanigans with the early Men; he sent spies and traitors to sow dissent even if little came of it for him personally. But I think that something bad happened far to the East—something so bad that the Men deliberately excised it from their cultural heritage and stories. I’m speculating on some kind of treachery and in-fighting—definitely some senseless destruction. That’s Morgoth’s characteristic work style, and the Men’s conclusion was to forget this darkness rather than use it as a cautionary parable. “Don’t trust the dark and don’t look back” isn’t a complicated lesson and it doesn’t require elaboration.

But we also have a pull factor: Bëor’s people and later clans are chasing the “Light” over the mountains. He says that “Westwards our hearts have been turned” and leaves it at that. And this is a frustrating case of real world considerations clash with fantasy logic, because… what??? Light? Who put that on their hearts? Presumably Eru, but that feels like cheating from an out-of-universe standpoint. Personally, and you can disagree with me if you like, I think this “Light” probably evolved as a natural need for an opposite to the Dark they left behind. It’s a simple template. Leave the Dark in the East; go the Light in the West. Pass it down enough generations, and it’s easy to turn that dichotomy into a semi-religious belief that inspires you cross a two entire continents.

And here’s the other thing. People will not keep moving unless there’s a reason. It sounds basic, but it’s worth emphasizing. Mass migrations can take generations. Groups splinter and settle down along the way, just like the Sindar on the Great Journey. And so the most reasonable view for the clans who made it to Beleriand is that they are a very small fraction of the people who scattered from the mysterious Darkness in their original land. People probably went in different directions and stopped after different distances.

And I think there’s a solid reasoning for different groups to have different oral traditions of remembering the Darkness and Morgoth’s corruption. Certainly Bëor’s approach—excising it from their histories—is not the only approach. So other groups will tell stories about this to their children. It’s the nature of legends—as the time depth would make these things—to get rearranged in the retellings. But the core? A Darkness that drives you from your homeland because of the foul whispers of the Enemy-over-the-mountains? Oh no, it isn’t going anywhere; it becomes the boogeyman and the antagonist and the thing that frightens children into good behavior. It’s the enemy with a thousand faces but the same essential truths. There was evil in our past. We fled to escape it. But it is not truly gone. And that is what the generations will pass down to each other.

And then we return to the thing you actually asked about, because I’ve gotta save the good stuff for last! I think that the Breaking of the World and the defeat of Morgoth is relevant to the far-East people, but more in a way of “Oh, that sounds familiar. You lost your home to the Darkness too? So did our ancestors. That’s rough, buddy.” Maybe losing a continent and getting displaced is hard, but it isn’t your continent, is it? At the end of the day, not being personally invested in the fight mostly says you’re not personally invested in its outcome. Maybe some people are impressed that the legends do have an answer—the Shadow was conquered after all!—but life goes on.

Well, until it doesn’t, and until the Darkness strolls eastward in the person of Sauron. And then sometimes you may wish you paid more attention to how the people over the mountains managed it the first time.

[sepublic]

Through the Looking Glass Ruins!!!!!

         …

         SO! Onto other things first…

         WRATH IS BRAXAS’ FATHER!??!!? HOLY SHIT, Wrath is a canonical dad, I’d always expressed my… OH MY GOD WRATH IS DAD! And of BRAXAS, that sweetie… How is Braxas such a sweetie with a father like HIM, also-

         Wrath was in casual wear? Either he has a day off, or he got fired by Belos/Kikimora after drawing Luz a map to Eda in Young Blood, Old Souls! Either way this guy has a sudden new level of NUANCE that I am reeling from, and yes I checked, that really is Wrath according to the credits! Dang this puts everything in a WHOLE new light…!

         AMITY HAIR OHMIGOD IT LOOKS SO ADORABLE SHE’S SELF-ACTUALIZING I AM FUCKING SCREAMING HOLY SHIT OH MY GOD!!! OH MY GOD OH MY GOD, it’s PINK and not green… They acknowledged it, Emira did! And they CHANGED IT I AM LOSING MY FUCKING MIND OVER THIS-

         She looks so BEAUTIFUL and I love the kind of foreshadowing with the bookends of our first shot of Amity having her hair down, and now it’s changed! And she looks adorable and EMIRA AND EDRIC BEING GREAT SIBLINGS I LOVE IT SO MUCH! This… THIS is everything I wanted! I was resigned to not much of them but HELL YEAH they’re being good siblings and we get a look at their rooms, we see them doing MAKEOVERS together this is everything from my favorite fanon content and MORE,

         Also Edric has a date?! Emira says ‘their’ mom… Unless the Golden Guard has a mom, DARN! Not gonna lie, I half-expected a big twist at the end that Edric was dating the Golden Guard, who was doing some sort of reconnaissance as his unrecognized normal self and/or screwing around with the Blights even further, but in a GENUINE sense… But then who knows Kikimora could be posing as GG’s ‘mom’, this is a stretch anyhow-

         JUST HELL YEAH Blight Twins! Blight Twins being sweet and mischievous and supportive of each other, Blight SIBLINGS being siblings, Emira being an older sister and giving advice! And AMITY, Amity mentioning how much Luz has changed stuff, I love that they acknowledge it openly how her life has completely shifted, and now… NOW…!

         No necklace! Red leggings! PINK HAIR?! Is this why Amity in the intro hasn’t been updated yet… She was getting TWO updates, so the animators decided to only animate a change after this final update?!

         King and Gus are also friends it seems, and they even recorded some fun together! I’m surprised at how much Bria and the others mock Gus’ illusion skills… Obviously Belos is kinda terrible but like; I don’t think he’d set aside an entire subset of magic into Illusions without reason! Also that nightmare trip… I LOVE IT, I love Gus applying the creativity of illusions in their ability to completely warp and distort someone’s sense of reality! And I called that dragon-thing being an illusion!

         A graveyard… I wonder if the Gallderstones (is that how it’s spelled) have any relevance or if they’re just neat? I hope Mattholomule and Gus help hide the Looking Glass Graveyard… Damn, that’s another Death reference with Gus, huh! Is it culminating in his respect for the dead, or will it continue further with Gus being a necromancer, or an Oracle who can commune with the deceased, and he has their respect as someone who treats them properly?!

         Also not to get dark but… What if all those Illusionists are dead because of Belos? I’m JUST SAYING…! And not gonna lie, every time someone insulted Illusions, I kept imagining the Illusion Head just suddenly waking up and feeling like there’s a disturbance in the force, as well as a weird compulsion to beat up some Glandus kids. It’d be even funnier if he had beef with the Construction, Plant, and Abomination Heads as well!

         Speaking of which, more confirmation on Construction Magic being related to earth! Glad to see Bria give us a look into that, which furthers my idea of Belos using construction magic… Also dang, Bria and the Glandus Kids really are the parallels/foils to the Detention kids! You’ve got the short ‘nice’ girl, the tall lanky kid, the furry… But the Glandus Kids start off looking nice and cool, but turn out to be rather nasty!

         Meanwhile the Detention Kids seem like bad news and delinquents, but no! They’re just demonized and actually very kind and chill! The Detention Kids are looked down upon, the Glandus Kids are appraised… The Detention Kids are dual-track, the Glandus Kids are singular; Glandus Kids from, well, GLANDUS, Detention Kids from Hexside… One’s ‘mischief’ is actually very neat and cool, the other’s is literal grave robbing.

         I guess that’s how the bleeding statues got past the censors- It’s technically just an illusion! Also more insight into how Glandus works with its Survival of the Fittest mentality, I wonder if we’ll get confirmation on which coven heads came from there, how that might influence them as adults…

         What is Glandus like, is it more whole-heartedly accepting of Belos’ rule, hence its harsh ideals? Was it made after Hexside? Does Bump hate it for being so cruel like that, or is it just school bias? And dang poor Mattholomule, I always had a feeling he sort of felt and knew that he wasn’t much, so he accepted and compensated by deliberately doing whatever he can for power…

         They confirmed he’s from Glandus, and I appreciate this new look at him! This new leaf turned… Hot take but he’s honestly not as bad as Boscha, his stint with Gus was a one-time thing that Gus was able to live with! And that seems pretty good to set them up as friends! Speaking of Boscha, Willow was injured by pixies? And the last time we heard of pixies, they belonged to Boscha and caused the school to get shut down… Did BOSCHA DO THIS I SWEAR SHE IS DEAD TO ME-

         (Also she’s mentioned in the credits for this episode but I don’t remember hearing her? I might’ve gotten distracted with so much other things.)

         Gus! I like the insight into his relationship with Illusions, and I appreciate how he’s considering other forms of magic… But this hesitation might just serve to reaffirm his believe in Illusions, which is okay! It’s all about choice… And yeah, it seems Gus also has a case of impostor syndrome like King, no wonder they get along so well! I love the glimpses into Gus’ house and the confirmation that he has a library card, no Perry though alas…!

         I appreciate how Gus feels overlooked, like he has no real substance, which is how his Illusions reflect a desire to draw attention, but also the idea that there’s nothing real beneath them… Again, very much like King! And Gus, he’s not a powerhouse like the rest, he’s SKILLED and smart, but strength isn’t his forte, it’s not brute force he operates on, but cleverness! Trickery, I like it…! It’s a nice callback to his last A-plot episode, SVSF, where instead of fighting Mattholomule physically, Gus’ solution is to think outside the box and pull the alarm!

         You go kid, not relying on brute strength but showing that some clever tricks and thinking are just as valid! Kinda wonder if this episode is lowkey a discussion on masculinity for young boys, especially with Gus growing older with puberty, though the latter is mostly because his actual VA grew… But maybe the writers rolled with that and incorporated it, or it’s just a very neat coincidence! Also, it is me or did Mattholomule’s voice change? And the gag that Gavin’s dad looks identical to him, even moreso because he’s NOT supposed to have a moustache… That’s great!

         Malphas! Love this reference to a classic demon, I wasn’t sure if Malphas was the librarian with glasses whom I’ve always headcanoned as a father figure to Amity… But maybe it’s actually this bird dude! He seems adept in Bard magic, and I love the reveal of his true crow appearance… Guess those theorists were right that the one-eyed figure is from the Forbidden Stacks! Also Malphas NOT COOL with Amity, but I’m glad Luz changed his mind, and I wonder how that adventure looked…

         Which- DAMN, the RSD with Luz! She looks so UTTERLY BROKEN when Amity mentions doing stupid things, and she didn’t mean it like that, but Luz just looks so completely shattered and you can tell she wants to cry but instead she bottles it up and tries to take it in stride, and that plays into her trying to overcompensate for her mistakes AGAIN… SOMEONE GET IT TO HER HEAD that she doesn’t need to! I’m scared for Luz, and I was SO scared this episode would end on a bad note…

         BUT DOAHLDdFAEONDKFHN LUMITY KISS LUMITY KISS! ONE-SIDED BUT THEY FINALLY FUCKING KNOW AND AMITY IS LIKE WHAAAAT AND I WAS WAITING FOR IT AND I COULD FEEL IT HAPPEN AND GAY KISS! GAY KISS ON-SCREEN!!! And the way Luz just FLOPS to the ground on her knees AAHJJFFKHGGK and no Alador nor Odalia to ruin this, UTTERLY PERFECT and the twins WATCHING OOOHHHHGGGG YYYEEAAAAHHH-

         This is EVERYTHING I ever wanted!

         What an AMAZING episode with wonderful characer beats and reveals! Again, Amity’s growth as a character, that brief insight into how Luz as a person is very chaotic and sometimes frustrating for Amity and forces her to reevaluate, but ultimately it’s good and Luz DOES try her best, and Amity clearly wanted to make things up for Luz and apologize, they’re BOTH doing things, just the little moments!

         Also, Alex Lawther voices Philip Wittebane! He has long hair and a vaguely british accent, he’s… He’s Belos isn’t he? And they got a new VA because having him voiced by Matthew Rhys would be really spoiler-y right? He’s got the long hair and he’s a nerd… And with how he talks of finding a way back home, maybe Belos really DOES just want to return home, after all? He talks of making a way back home…

         And we see a glimpse of the Portal, so it might’ve brought him there? Or did Philip succeed in making it, and that was his blueprint designs? Did he arrive by Titan’s Blood? What happened to the portal if it brought him there, or if he made it? Why the scar, why near Eda’s house, partially buried?

         Was it lost before he could finish his work, and Philip got side-tracked into something else… Perhaps going on a crusade, on behalf of a curse/demon that possessed him? A demon that killed King’s father…? Was the portal broken and he had to discard it, but then it naturally healed- Or did it just need to recharge, maybe Philip DID make it back home, WHAT IS THE ANSWER?! Is there some sort of doppelganger for Philip, is BELOS his doppelganger?! What is THIS WHAT-

         WHAT AN EPISODE!

[robinrunsfiction]

It’s A Love Story - Part 5

Part 4

“Is everyone ready to go?” Gerard called to his bandmates as he closed the back of the van. It was the afternoon of the battle of the bands, and a nervous excitement was running through all of them.

“Let’s go!” Frank cheered as everyone started piling into the vehicle, but (YN) lingered back.

“Oh nooo, we have to sit together,” she smirked as Bob and Mikey got into the furthest back row of seats. Ray already riding shotgun, even though he was next to useless with a map.

“Damn,” he replied with a smile as they got into the middle row.

The van was an early Christmas/birthday/graduation present for Gerard from their grandparents. Even though they weren’t going to be at the battle of the bands, they fully supported their grandsons’ dreams, and after a few emphatic dinner table discussions, they agreed to buy the band something to get around in, on the condition that all of the boys get their high school diplomas.

“Do you know where we’re goin?” Bob shouted from the back after they’d been driving what felt like forever.

“We passed that sign like three times now,” Frank chimed in.

“Yea, we just gotta go north and then… wait, no! This is the exit! Take this exit!” Ray shouted as Gerard swerved to catch the exit ramp at the last possible second. Shouts and grumbles of annoyance came from all passengers as they held on for dear life.

“Oh shut up,” Gerard said, glancing back.

“Gee! Brake!” Ray shouted, pulling Gerard’s attention back to the traffic they were about to crash into.

Gerard slammed on the brakes just before he slammed into the station wagon ahead of them and Frank threw his arm out protectively in front of (YN). As Gerard sat rattled in the driver’s seat, Ray glanced back to check on the bandmates. That’s when (YN) realized that his eyes were transfixed on where Frank’s hand had ended up on her knee. She froze, not knowing what to do.

“Everybody good?” Ray asked, still seeming to be focused on the other guitarist.

“You guys good?” (YN) asked turning to Mikey and Bob behind them, in hopes it would pull Ray’s attention away from what Frank was doing. That’s when she caught Frank’s eye. She glanced down at his hand before nodding slightly toward Ray. Frank’s eyes went wide as he snatched his hand away.

“Close one,” (YN) whispered to Frank when they were back on their way.

“Sorry,” he winced.

“It’s fine,” she smiled.

When they finally arrived at the venue hosting the competition, they were given a schedule of when they’d go on, as well as a table where they could sell merch, meet the other bands, as well as any potential fans. (YN) set up the box of CDs that had been recorded in the garage, and arranged the shirts that she’d designed and felt her nerves starting to build. She hoped the competition would go well for the guys, which would drive people to look at the merch. If her shirts were liked well enough that fans would buy them, it would prove to the guys that she could be a help to My Chem and she could remain involved.

The guys were one of the first bands to perform that evening, and to say they crushed it would be an understatement. The crowd was in a frenzy, and as soon as they were done a ton of the spectators came over and bought merch. That’s when (YN) noticed the girls lingering off to the side, watching the guys talk to their new fans. Once the crowd dissipated, they swooped in.

“Hey,” the first girl purred, grinning at Gerard. “My name’s Veronica, and I just wanted to say you guys were really amazing up there.”

(YN) tried to keep from obviously rolling her eyes as the girls blatantly flirted with her brothers and friends. However, she was pulled from her thoughts when she heard one of the other girls ask if they’d ever consider dating a fan of the band.

Frank smirked and shot (YN) a glance. "Only if she'd been a fan from like day one, ya know? Like very clearly not just into me because of the band."

"Oh," the girl pouted.

"I mean, I'd be cool dating a fan!" Ray chimed in.

That's when an idea popped into (YN)'s head. "Hey Gee," she said, getting her brother's attention and pulling him away from the group.

"What’s up?" 

(YN) had to do her best not to start laughing at her evil idea. “I don’t think you should be talking to these girls.”

“Wait, why not?” He asked, clearly confused.

“I see the way they’re looking at you and I can imagine what they’re thinking and it’s gross. They’re just interested because they wanna get with a band member, they aren’t actually interested in you as a person, and I’d really hate for you to get a reputation in the scene,” she smirked.

Gerard opened and closed his mouth a few times, speechless. “Not fair!” He finally blurted out.

“I'm just looking out for you,” she grinned evilly before he rolled his eyes and marched off.

After the remaining bands played, the judges deliberated, and the MC eventually returned to the stage to announce the winners. The crowd didn't go as crazy for any band as they did for My Chem, so (YN) had a good feeling, but she was nervous anyway. The third, and then second place winners were announced and then MC called for a drumroll before announcing the winner.

"And in first place," the MC paused for dramatic effect and (YN) thought her heart was gonna pound out of her chest. "My Chemical Romance!"

(YN) screamed with delight as everyone started to hug each other in celebration. Frank turned to her and she wanted to grab him and kiss him, but she could only smile before they ran up on stage. The MC handed them a trophy as the other bands came up to congratulate them.

A few more people came up to buy what was left of their makeshift merch, and (YN) imagined what kind of real merch they’d be able to make with the prize money. When everything was gone, she picked up the empty boxes and followed the venue’s instructions on where to dump them out back. A few people were lingering around the back of the venue, smoking, talking, or loading up vans, but she didn't recognize anyone until Frank stepped out the backdoor. Letting out a squeal of delight, she ran over to him, unable to hold back any longer.

"Oh my god that was amazing!" She said, throwing her arms around his neck as he lifted her up in a hug. "I'm so proud of you!"

"Thanks babe!" He grinned as he returned her to her feet and kissed her hard, the adrenaline of the show, and winning still coursing through him. (YN) leaned into the kiss without a second thought.

"What the fuck?!" The shout cut through the cold late autumn night.

(YN) and Frank immediately jumped apart, as Gerard stalked toward them from where he’d been loading the van, with Mikey close behind. The other people who had been lingering around all turned to watch the unfolding scene.

"Frank, I thought of all the guys in school I could trust not to go after my sister, it would be you!" Gerard snapped, his finger in Frank’s face.

(YN) felt her blood start to boil. "Gerard! Stop it!” She snapped, pushing his hand away from Frank and stepping in between them. "God, this is so stupid! I love Frank! We're together and he has been nothing but sweet and kind and respectful and if I wanna keep dating him, then I’m gonna! Besides, you know Frank, you know he’s a good guy who isn’t gonna take advantage of me, or spread rumors, or anything else you’re scared of happening. Like who else could you possibly want me to date?”

Both Mikey and Gerard seemed to soften at her words, as silence hung between them. “You’re right,” Mikey finally conceded with a shrug before turning to Frank. “I’ve known you forever, and trust you to be good to (YN).”

“Thanks man,” Frank replied, relief evident in his tone.

"You love him?" Gerard asked, still hesitant.

"Yep," she nodded, still defiant.

"And you really love (YN)?" Gerard asked Frank.

"More than you can imagine."

Gerard nodded, considering his words. “Fine. But if she tells us you ever do anything to upset or hurt her,” Gerard started, his finger back in Frank’s face.

“You’ll kick my ass, I know,” Frank nodded, his hands up in defense.

“No, I’ll help (YN) kick your ass,” Gerard smirked. “Come on, let’s go home.”

Mikey and Gerard made their way back toward the van, but (YN) and Frank lingered behind.

(YN) turned and grinned at Frank before burying her face against his neck. “Oh my god! It happened, it finally happened! Life just got so much easier,” she laughed. "I don't think I've ever felt so relieved!"

"I’m just so happy that I can tell everyone how much I love you,” he grinned when she pulled back.

Just then Ray came out the back door that they were standing next to, guitar case in hand. The look on his face when he saw Frank’s hands on (YN) waist made (YN) immediately start giggling. 

“Wha- what the hell is this?!” He asked, clearly confused.

“Remember that girlfriend that Tucker ratted me out for having a couple months ago?” Frank asked.

“Yea?”

“Hi,” (YN) grinned as she waved at him.

“But Gerard said-”

“Doesn’t matter,” (YN) cut him off.

“No stupid rules could keep me from being in love with (YN),” Frank said, almost more to (YN) than to Ray, as he pulled her closer. 

She grinned at him, before leaning in and kissing him hard. She could have sworn she heard Ray muttering about being the last to know everything, but she didn’t care. Everything had finally turned around for her, and she didn’t have to hide her love for Frank ever again.

[ronalddear]

Bathroom.

hi again! This is another drabble/missing moment set during dh after the wedding. Again this is only my second time writing any fic so it's very amateur.

This was requested by @nuttybeardetective , and was inspired by this post of mine. Ron is vaguely prudish in this but seeing as this is only my second time writing, I don't think I'm ready to write full-on smut yet. hope you enjoy <3

WARNING: none except for language, because it's Ron ;)

WORDS: 1515

The dim cold ambience of Grimmauld Place did nothing to soothe the uneasiness of the wedding attack and Ron was utterly fed up. One week after their untimely arrival at the grim house enticed them to try and settle into their temporary 'home'. At least physically anyway, Harry was now occupying Sirius' room in reserved isolation and after another night of sleeping adjacent in the drawing-room, he and Hermione had wordlessly agreed upon sleeping in their respective rooms that they'd occupied during the summer before 5th year, with some unannounced hesitation on his part.

The minuscule amount of clothes he carried was unpacked, his worn toothbrush now stood in the cup designated on the 2nd story bathroom, opposite his bedroom. The kitchen table was now draped in Hermione's lists and notes of all sorts, a map of the Ministry adorning the centre. Yet Ron felt as if mentally he was still at the Burrow, packing the extra healing supplies from the bathroom cupboard or stood in the stuffy kitchen, duplicating his mother's kitchenware to stuff into his rucksack.

The immediate thought of the burrow made his stomach drop and his head spin. The forced confinement made him feel ill. It felt as if he was in deep quarantine and had no knowledge of the world outside. This scared him so intensely that his paranoia was at an all-time high after a week without family communication. Surely the whole Horcrux-hunting fiasco would last longer than a week? A couple months maybe? Could he go that long without his serene home, the sunny hillside near the refreshing pond, and his family, who were at risk of being imprisoned or killed because of their non-prejudiced beliefs?

His stomach dropped again and his shoulders sagged under the scorching heat of the water flowing across his frame. He discovered that hot water was helpful for him to relax, only temporarily of course but it was much better than the frigid water in the small shower the burrow housed or the short-lived heating charm that made him feel as if he was showering in lukewarm tea rather than a proper hot shower.

His only downside was that his creamy skin was almost brick red, yet somehow his freckles showed through like a common childhood disease that Hermione had mentioned getting in her early years. He could not remember the name. His hair laid flat on his head, a darker red when wet but now longer than a quiff, he ran his gangly fingers through it, sweeping it back but failing to contain a few stray pieces, which dangled near the curve of his cheek and tickled his ears.

Goosebumps spread across flesh the instant his heels touched the cool tile. The sudden temperature change brought about a shock and he scrambled for his towel to aid his chill. After hastily wrapping it around his waist, he clumsily aimed for his vest to wear until he got to the room so at least he wouldn't freeze to death. Vest in hand, the metal toothbrush cup clanged off the side of the counter, making a ruckus in its wake.

Vest now over his head and arms, bunched just under his chest. the cup was replaced to its original spot and a good few swears had escaped his breath. He bent across the counter to clear the mirror of the steam that emanated from the shower when he felt the slightest brush against his bareback.

"Shit!"

"Sorry!'

His hand frantically searched for his wand to provide defence but unless towels came with pockets then he was out of luck. Hermione's alarmed voice stabbed through the bathroom and the echo lingered for a bit, just enough until he processed that she was in front of him. Her eyebrows were raised and her mahogany eyes were wide after she jumped away from him suddenly.

"Um..Hi.” she started with a great inhale.

Ron's heart rate hadn't returned to normal and his mouth was agape at the sight of her so suddenly appearing in the bathroom. Where he was. Alone. Until she came in of course. So now it was just him and her. Alone. He suddenly became very aware that he had just come out of the shower and was revealing a particular amount of torso, which was probably solid red now with a litter of freckles that he didn't fancy too much himself.

"Uh hey?" he started, completely at a loss of how to conduct the situation, while he sheepishly smoothed down the vest along his stomach. She couldn't have come in here to discuss Horcruxes right? Actually, he wouldn't put it past her to do just that, to be honest.

"I uh.. well I came to shower and I realised that you were still in here, still are in here so.. but yeah your vest was rolled up a bit sorry, just wanted to.. uh fix it, yeah, sorry." she stumbled over her words a lot, something he'd never heard from Hermione but she seemed to speak extremely fast yet agonisingly slow and deliberate at the same time.

She was breathing in deeply again and his eyes fell to the stray tight curls that graced the nape of her neck which her haphazard-looking ponytail exposed. The bathroom was quite dim and the yellow glow from the dingy lights fell just barely on her dark skin. Skin. His eyes travelled a little further to see she was wearing a vest herself, no a camisole, he didn't know what it was but his gaze was hooked on the space between her shoulder and collarbone. He had the urge to touch it with his lips.

He quickly averted his eyes as to not embarrass himself but they glanced over her bare legs in moderately short cotton shorts and he sucked his breath in so hard he was now bent at a slight curve, stomach clenched and breath hitched. He was quickly overwhelmed at the intimacy the situation opposed. Hell, he couldn't believe he was describing an interaction with Hermione as intimate. His ears were on fire surely, he'd need an Aquamenti to put them out if he survived.

"Oh", his voice heightened toward the end and he internally cringed so hard he thought he was going to combust.

"Yeah", she whispered, her eyes were on his arms, his brain scars were fully displayed and swirled across his recently filled out arms.

"I thought you were using the bathroom near your room?" he spoke softly and slowly, drinking in the sight of her lips, which she was toying with impatiently, now flushed.

There was an urge to cover his arms but he resisted and tried to focus on a chipped tile near the door. He failed as soon as she spoke once more, her voice clearer this time and with, almost, determination?

"I think I like this one more." she spoke, referring to the bathroom seemingly but her eyes were nowhere but him.

She intentionally made eye contact and his heart dropped to his lower stomach, his chest unnaturally warm. Wasn't this room cold as shit before? He was smart enough to know that bathroom was the last bloody thing she was talking about but words failed and he was more than happy to let her steer the conversation.

"Can I ask why?', he managed, his mouth was dry and he was sure he's never wanted anything more than for her to touch him, anywhere, she could slap him if she wanted and he would relish her skin on his.

Their breaths were erratic now, you'd swear they'd run a marathon twice over. Her chest was rising and falling agonisingly slow. He was still bent a bit so he was leaning towards her and she seemed to have gotten closer since she jumped back earlier. When did that happen?

"It's a bit more spacious I think, prettier interior as well", she whispered, swallowing halfway in between and added in the last bit staring so far into his eyes that he swore she was probably seeing through his head.

Pretty. Did she just say pretty? He was pretty sure she said pretty. No one had called him that before and if she had just called him fucking pretty he was going to die on the spot. Her words kept repeating in his head, soft and intentional. His entire body was frozen and he knew that the ground wasn't cold enough to make his legs tremble the way they were now. She gazed up at him and he swore he saw a glint of satisfaction after his reaction.

"Right, well, I'll let you have it then..Enjoy.", he applauded himself in restaining his voice from wavering at the end.

She gave a small thanks and he started to walk towards the door, her to the shower. Her bare shoulder touched his elbow at the exact moment her eucalyptus shampoo wafted towards his nose and he swore he almost whimpered. Their eye contact was only broken by the door closing and Ron almost collapsing on the other side.

PLEASE REVIEW! <3

[gureishi]

One more DM-ed request! I’ll open up requests ~for real~ tonight or tomorrow, hooray~

A lovely friend who wants to stay anonymous requested a fic about Saeyoung buying condoms before the famous “evidence that I existed scene” in his AE. And honestly I am OBSESSED with the idea and I cackled more than once while writing this. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it, dear! ♡

ready

SaeyoungXReader, T...? (no sex actually occurs in this but you know what the prompt is so do with that what you will). Words: 1874

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

“Um…Saeyoung? Are we stopping?”

You’re curled into the passenger seat of Saeyoung’s car, his phone in your hand as you keep an eye on the incredibly complex GPS map he’s designed. You’ve been starting to fall into a reverie, lulled into a sense of near-comfort by the constant speed of the car and the sight of his hands on the steering wheel and the soothing, salty-sweet smell of him that clings to the sweater draped over your shoulders and the leather upholstery of the seat.

But when the car, which has been cruising along at a frankly alarming speed, starts to slow, you’re startled out of your half-slumber.

You push yourself up in the seat, gazing at him curiously. You’re surprised to find a light flush coloring his cheeks.

“Saeyoung?" you repeat, made more curious by his strange expression. His hand twitches, as if he meant to reach over and rest it on your thigh—as he’s done periodically throughout the day—but then thought better of it.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, starting pointedly straight ahead at the dirt road he’s turned onto.

You notice him self-consciously take his left hand from the wheel and run it through his tousled hair. It’s a nervous habit of his—even after living with him for just a short time, you’ve found yourself particularly well-attuned to all his quirks.

“Is something wrong?” you ask. You sit up straight now, peering through the windshield. The sun is starting to set, but it’s too early to stop for the night.

“Huh? No, that’s not—no.” Finally, he does touch you, letting one hand drift over to brush against your waist. It sends tingles up and down your spine.

You remember the way he kissed you that morning, before starting to drive for the day—his lips soft and earnest, his clumsy kisses growing more desperate as he pressed his body flush against yours. He always touches you this way—hesitant at first, always afraid it will be too much for you, too much for him—then more forcefully, as if he’s battling with his restraint and losing.

You remember the way he looked at you this afternoon when he thought you were sleeping in the passenger seat, the little moan that escaped his throat when you leaned over and nipped at his earlobe…

“We’re just making a, uhh—quick stop,” he stutters, tugging you back to reality.

You bite your lip, willing away the heat that’s begun to build within you.

Right. Get it together.

We’re on a rescue mission, not a sex vacation.

Your own cheeks color at the thought.

Not that we’ve—not that he’d want to—

Saeyoung turns the car abruptly and pulls into a parking lot you hadn’t even seen coming.

“That came out of nowhere!” you say, startled by the sudden intrusion of civilization. It has just been the two of you for so many hours—so many days—that you’ve almost forgotten about the world that has other people in it.

He taps the side of his head, grinning impishly. “A spaceman always knows where to find fuel,” he says. When you roll your eyes, he adds, “Plus, it was on the GPS.”

You laugh, and are relieved to find you can. Somehow, even knowing where you’re going, and what awaits you there—it’s easy to laugh, with Saeyoung beside you.

“Stretch your legs for a bit,” he says, putting the car in park. His red sports car is definitely conspicuous in the empty parking lot, in front of what seems to be a run-down convenience store. “I’ll be right back. He hops out of the car, moving with surprising ease for someone who’s been sitting and driving for hours. But you’re used to it by now—the stark contrast between the hacker who can sit still for days at a time and the agent who can spring into action at a millisecond’s notice. That’s just Saeyoung, you think, not without a touch of pride.

You open your own door, thinking to take him up on his suggestion to stretch and get some fresh air. Luxury car it may be, but it’s still not designed for an entire day of sitting—and you’re not one for sitting still to begin with. You lift your arms above your head, enjoying the way the cool evening air tickles your sides. Saeyoung is already off—you watch his distinctive red head bobbing off in the direction of the convenience store.

A convenience store…

Your curiosity returns. The two of you have enough food packed for several more days, including plenty of snacks. The schedule you’ve been keeping in order to catch up to Saeran and Vanderwood doesn’t generally allow for lots of mid-day breaks. You can’t think of any supplies you need that you don’t already have.

You ponder his blush, his awkwardness. Secrets are right up Saeyoung’s alley, but now—he’s been so honest with you recently, so upfront. He doesn’t have anything left to hide. So why…?

Curiosity getting the better of you, you stride toward the store, keeping your footsteps light. Secret agent he may be, but if anyone can sneak up on him, it’s definitely you—all the times you managed to startle him back at the apartment were proof enough of that.

The convenience store isn’t much to look at: the windows are dirty and adorned with half-peeled posters advertising out-of-date discounts. You press yourself against one of these, peering through the smudged class. You can just make out his messy red hair moving through the aisles, pausing in one. You watch him deliberate, pacing back and forth.

For a moment, you consider following him into the store—but he’d surely hear you then, and it’d be just like him to abandon whatever quest he’s on out of embarrassment. No: snooping from outside is certainly the best way.

After what feels like several minutes of hesitation, he suddenly grabs something from a shelf and makes his way to the register. Your curiosity intensifies. What could he possibly feel so uncomfortable buying…? 

…

Oh.

OH.

Your face flushes bright red. It couldn’t be. And yet… Your toes tingle.

You’re so carried away by your own thoughts that you’re taken totally aback when something warm presses against you from behind, long fingers curling around your waist. 

“Eep!” you squeal, startling and nearly hitting your head on the glass window. His other hand instantly slides to your forehead, protecting you. “S-Saeyoung?”

He spins you around and suddenly you’re nose to nose, your back against the convenience store window, your body feeling feverish in his arms.

There’s a pause in which the expression in his golden eyes is so intense you find yourself speechless. Then he grins.

“Spying, are we?” he teases, lifting a finger to gently tap your nose.

“You were being suspicious!” you counter, glaring into his molten eyes. It’s his turn to flush.

“I’m a hacker. Being suspicious is kind of my whole thing,” he says, and winks. You notice he hasn’t moved a muscle—his arms are still around your waist, one hand on the small of your back, almost grazing your butt. You find yourself frantically wishing he’d lower it, wishing he’d squeeze your butt and then press you harder into the glass, biting your neck and—

Ahhhh.

“Gimme that bag!” you cry, taking even yourself by surprise. You disentangle yourself from him abruptly, reaching for his back pocket where you know he’s stuffed the bag from the store. Once again, a few days of living together has given you enough clues—you know where he puts things so you won’t take them. But you’re bolder now.

“Noooo!” he yelps, taking off across the parking lot. You laugh, sprinting after him.

“Saeyoung Choi! Give me that bag!” You’re pretty fast, but he’s much faster. He darts into the tall grass that surrounds the parking lot. You know you can’t catch him—but you do have a secret weapon. It may not be fair—but all’s fair in love and war, you think stubbornly.

“Ow!” you yell, plopping down on the concrete.

He’s on you in an instant, all pretense of the chase forgotten, on his knees before you can even register what’s happened. His eyes are dark as he scans your body frantically for any sign that you are hurt. You almost feel guilty. Almost.

“What’s wrong?”

He brushes his hand up your leg, searching for an injury that isn’t there.

“Ha!” In one motion, you reach behind him, grazing his butt as you pull the plastic bag from his pocket. “Hahaha!” you sing again as you turn the bag upside down, spilling out the contents before he has a chance to snatch it back.

“Whaaaaat? You—” Saeyoung gasps. His hand shoots out and you tackle him, knowing he won’t resist you as you tumble onto his chest. He wraps his arms around you, nuzzling his face into your hair. You twist sideways and can just make out the box on the ground beside you.

Ah-ha.

Abruptly, Saeyoung sits up and gently lifts you off him—all while trying to sneakily sweep his purchase into the safety of his hoodie.

But it’s too late.

You’re a little embarrassed, a little guilty for tricking him—but most of all, there’s a distinct feeling of satisfaction that settles in your heart.

“Saeyoung, you bought…?”

He turns to you, and his cheeks are as red as you imagine your own to be.

“Did you see?” he mutters, eyes downcast. You nod. “I-it’s not…!” He meets your eyes, and he’s so earnest, so awkward, so delightfully scared, that you can’t help but take pity on him. “I-it’s not that I was assuming anything, o-or even hoping, I mean, I wouldn’t even think to…!”

You have to stop him then, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips. You feel the heat radiating off him, and all his muscles are tense with anxiety. You cup his cheek with one hand and deepen the kiss; he melts into you.

When you pull away, your breath is coming quickly, and you can feel his heart pounding through his hoodie.

“It’s okay if you were assuming,” you say softly.

He splutters for a moment, cheeks hot, pupils blown. 

His hand tightly clutches the box of condoms concealed in his jacket.

“I-I really wasn’t… I didn’t mean to…” He catches his breath. “Just in case,” he whispers.

You feel the grin spreading across your face. You put a hand on his chest, right over his rapidly beating heart. His fingers ghost over your shoulder and neck, tentatively, questioningly. You press another firm kiss to his lips.

“Just in case,” you repeat. 

You know you’ve got to get back in the car, got to drive till after the sun has set, got to watch the little dot on his makeshift tracking devise until your eyes get tired. But eventually, you’ll stop. Eventually, you’ll rest. You’ll spend the night together. And when you do—

“I wanted us to be ready for anything,” he whispers against your lips, more confidently than before.

“Yeah,” you say. “And we are.”