#to contend with. such as they are. and then there’s just the way that I feel on the inside most of the time

[chastiefoul]

playing with their hair

ft. nanami, gojo, suguru, toji just fluff on top of fluff

nanami

colorful hair clips in different sizes were scattered around your thighs, and inbetween them is nanami who's currently sitting down and clicking away on his laptop, finishing the last bit of work he had to bring home that day.

the blond hair that's usually combed so neatly was then clipped back here and there in a way that made sense only to you. you gently grabbed another strands of his hair that's yet to be touched, humming to yourself like it's the time of your life.

"having fun there my love?" he asked softly, fully letting his hair to be your field experiment of the day. "mhm," you affirmed shortly, your focus is elsewhere as you're feeling conflicted in the very important decision you had to make that's right in front of your eyes.

"ken, pink or purple?" you finally asked, wanting him to have the final say. "can i see first?" he replied and you showed him the contender. he took his time in observing the items that were on your palm as he pondered. "hmm, i like the pink's design but i'll have to go with the purple. it's 'so me', as you liked to often say."

"it is so you!" you claimed as the biggest smile formed on your face, loving the fact that the busy man is playing along to your whims. nanami chuckled in hearing your excitement, continuing away with his work; ready to be all ears if you needed him.

gojo

"your hair is getting long," you muttered, hands combing through gojo's soft as silk hair over and over. the spoiled brat that's on your lap only mumbled lazily as a response, feeling utter bliss from the sensation of your fingers.

"toru can i try cutting it?" you asked, tucking his strands back on his ear. gojo gripped your wrist gently, guiding your hand back to play with his hair on his 'favorite' spot although you're really getting suspicious since it's changed from time to time. you thought this strongest man just loved having his white hair played. "sure, do whatever you want baby," he mumbled, his mind seem to be elsewhere. a candyland of some sort. he really looked like there's nothing in the world that could bother him.

you just laughed softly, to think a scratch on his head was all it took to let his guard down. "okay, no backing down later okay?"

"okay, i love you," he replied, and you had a feeling he had no idea what he's saying, swaying around that dimension of being half-asleep. you chuckled, the sound entered gojo's mind as lullaby. a small smile found its way to his lips, just a second before he fell into slumber.

suguru

"is it that time of the week again?" suguru asked with a smile, seeing a comb on your right hand and a small mirror on your left. you nodded excitedly, ushering him to take a seat. the man already knew what that look meant, you watched a hair tutorial and you wanted to try it on him first.

"alright, make me look pretty, sweet girl," he replied, there isn't a hint of fight on his tone; he's pretty enthusiastic, even. "i'll try sugu, since you already are," you said sweetly, and the man swore he could just gobble you up. "i'm already a loyal customer, there's no need for flattery," he chuckled lowly as you combed through his thick black hair. "there's no harm in making sure," you mumbled, already focusing on the task at hand.

"there's this new braid i'm learning," you explained as you parted his strands into section, the man only hummed as you talked mostly to yourself, leaving his hair in your utmost care.

"...and like this, yeah, i think i did it!" you said happily, eager to show the result as you show him the back of his head through the mirror. "gorgeous, baby. you did a great job," he smiled lovingly, spending more time looking at your delighted face than the mirror.

"i think it's mostly because of your hair though, it's just so smooth and lusc-"

"it's all you, pretty girl. trust me."

toji

"toji stay still, i'm almost done," you whined, trying to blowdry his hair but failing miserably, since the man was insistent in resting his head on your stomach, his arms locked tightly around your waist. "just let the air dry it, ma," he mumbled lazily, acting like he belonged there. and he did, and he'll fight anyone saying otherwise.

"but what if you catch a cold? the weather is getting chilly," you asked quietly, putting the tool away. "me? a cold?" he pulled away in disbelief, staring at you. you nodded, not finding anything wrong in what you just said. toji let out a defeated chuckle, completely and utterly defeated by you the only person on the world who cherished him so, the only person who will worry for his well-being over mere cold weather and wet hair.

you ran through his still damp hair, silently enjoying his embrace. "you're right, i should be careful, shouldn't i?" he asked, rubbing his hand on your side gently. "you really should," you answered softly, your thumb traced the upperside of his ear.

"right. can't let my girl worry over me 'too much," he said planting a kiss on your wrist, his breath brushing over your skin like a quiet promise.

--

btw shoutout to the people that write toji calling the reader 'ma' you all have such brilliant minds, im on board fully 😩

[fairycosmos]

how do you get over the grief of losing out on your early 20s and late teens ?

i think the older you get the more you realise that the present moment is the youngest you'll ever be again and that there is nothing particularly magical about that teen/young adult life stage the way we are lead to believe there is. while the grief is completely understandable and a valid feeling - i have it too, and some days it's extremely hard to contend with - other days i know that you can discover yourself and come of age and have fun at 30 and 50 and 70. it's alright to mourn just try not to get stuck in it. your life is still happening after all

[separocean-anxiety]

[ start image description: A digital illustration of Lauren Olamina (left) from Parable of the Sower, and Harriet Adu (right) from You're Breaking My Heart.

As she's imagined here, Lauren's hair is styled in short cornrows; she wears an Earthy green t-shirt with spiral designs on the sleeves, and an acorn earring. In her hands, she clutches a green book with "Book of the Living" written on the front. Her face is in profile, while her body is angled toward Harriet.

As she's imagined here, Harriet's hair is styled in flowing goddess braids, with two braids on the side of her head making the form of a heart. She wears a neon yellow tank top with the words "Just keep swimming" written on the front, as well as a silver necklace with a half-heart charm. Her face is also in profile, while her body faces frontwards.

Both girls are smiling with their foreheads pressed together—Lauren's eyes are open, while Harriet's are closed. They're at peace in each other's company. The pair stands waist-deep in water, with a radiant ripple of sun rays behind them. In the foreground are the words "I feel, therefore I can be free," a quote attributed to Audre Lorde, a Black lesbian poet and essayist. This specific quote derives from her essay "Poetry is Not a Luxury," which you can read in full through the link below. /end image description ]

"The white fathers told us, I think therefore I am; and the Black mothers in each of us- the poet- whispers in our dreams, I feel therefore I can be free. "

"Poetry is Not a Luxury" by Audre Lorde

This piece is dedicated to all the Black artists who inspired it, as well as all who continue to express themselves unapologetically.

Lauren and Harriet are two characters I hold close to my heart, and have been wanting to imagine design-wise for some time. Their emotional journeys lie at the heart of their respective stories, with Lauren having the ability to involuntarily experience the pain and pleasure of others, and Harriet contending with grief and remorse in the form of a voice in her head. Both are teenage girls who navigate an uncertain, tumultuous world, and reckon with this in different ways. Lauren creates the religion Earthseed to make sense of her reality and build a community with her fellow uprooted strangers; Harriet seeks closure by tracing a path of strange clues to a dreamlike underground world of surreal parties and intersecting dimensions. Lauren writes; Harriet swims. God is Change; Just Keep Swimming.

I want to briefly shift focus over to You're Breaking My Heart, the more obscure of these two incredible books. Olugbemisola Rhuday-Perkovich weaves a story so deeply affective to my soul it was surely a synchronicity that our paths collided. I first met Harriet at a bookstore at the beach, and was hooked on this tale the moment I met eyes with Briana Mukodiri Uchendu's ethereal cover art. And this story. This STORY!!!!!!! Everything from the characters to the pool symbolism to the portal mysteries to the underground world to the everyday liminal to the experimental chapter structures to the fact that Dory's mantra is a motif whose meaning transforms in tandem with Harriet's arc... THIS BOOK CHANGED MY LIFE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This is mayhaps the first time I have ever burst into tears for several minutes after reading the last line of any story. Oh my god. Oh my God.

Harriet's path to self-love is a veritable labyrinth of memory and mending ties and crowns denied and imperfect love and visitations from the past and every step of the way you're rooting for her to find the happiness and closure she deserves. Likewise, Lauren too embarks upon an uncertain course in the wake of tragedy, and forges her future in verse alongside the found family she cultivates. Both Lauren and Harriet are young Black girls who often mask their emotions—for the comfort of others, and the safety of themselves. In the line of the white gaze, Black expressions of emotion—especially those of Black women and girls—are either written off, ignored, or disproportionately and unjustly demonized, which leads many to mask, as Lauren and Harriet do, out of societally imposed necessity.

To the Black readers of this post, your emotions, your expression, your perspective, your spirit, YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! belong in every space which calls your heart. You deserve to be welcomed with open arms—anything less isn't worthy of your time. When a space feels disingenuous, claustrophobic, you hold within yourself the power to create something new—something better. And you never, ever have to do it alone. All of this goes without saying, of course, but it bears repeating. Your emotions are precious, and deserve a place to flourish. You deserve to see yourself reflected in the narratives you love!!! Always and forever!!!!!!!!!!!!! And when something doesn't measure up, the onus is on its creators to put in the time and effort to ensure you feel seen, welcome, CELEBRATED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Thank you so much to @creatingblackcharacters for hosting this event, for your comprehensive lessons and advice, and for sharing your love and passion with the world.

Without further ado, here's some awesomesauce artists you should go check out!!!!!

@oakwolves

instagram | twitter

The best of the best when it comes to characters!!!! The dynamics she explores are unmatched—if you love (and miss) Infinity Train, so much of her art is dedicated to imagining what it would be like if different characters from different books had encountered each other at just the right time; what friendships, families, and rivalries would arise. If you dig all that with a dash of mystery, check out her fic Train Chasers (it's got a website and everything)!!!! Her character designs—both OC's and reimaginings of existing characters—are endlessly inspired and creative. I'd be remiss not to mention her High School Story works—a world that grows more and more vibrant with each passing day!!!! You can learn more about all her creations at the site below!

Zeinab Diomande

instagram

I had the honor of discovering her works in the real at the Magic Gardens! Many of her pieces are fantastical and dreamlike self-portraits, envisioning Black womanhood as a limitless and vibrant spectrum of possibility. If you visit her Instagram (and I highly recommend you do!!) you'll see that each painting holds a story, a train of thought, a revelation. Stars, smiley faces, and spiderwebs are just some of the motifs she employs; my words truly can't do her work justice. Each piece feels like a window into a new realm. Fun fact: a number of the colors in the above piece were actually drawn from her painting, "Caring for yourself is making room in your life for it"

snowgirl

Snowgirl's awesome and experimental compositions are utterly indescribable. Each album is an experience in itself, and all seem almost nostalgic in the strangest of ways. There's something unspeakably sublime in these notes, abstract sounds, and visceral poetry. Among my personal favorites are fertilizerface and we spring from our sleep like it matters. Please give them a listen—something here will surely speak to you.

Briana Mukodiri Uchendu

instagram

I mentioned her stunning work on the cover of You're Breaking My Heart, and I highly recommend that you explore the rest of her oeuvre! She works first and foremost in pastels, and the softness of the medium translates beautifully to her digital illustrations as well. Her artistic philosophy—art-as-connection above all—resonates profoundly with me, and shines through every piece she creates. In the illustration above, I wanted to emulate the cross-hatching sort of texture she used in her own rendition of Harriet. You can explore her works here!

Paul Lewin

instagram

Lewin's work truly speaks to the heart of Afro-Futurism. I phased in and out of discovering it, seeing his signature gorgeous style on a number of books, such as Ebony Elizabeth Thomas's The Dark Fantastic, and even some versions of Parable of the Sower! There came a point when I realized all these works stemmed from the same hand. There's an enchanting elegance to it, and one could spend hours studying the details of his painting (yes, paintings!!!!!!!!!!). This interview gives so some stellar insight into his artistic process.

Both Parable of the Sower and You're Breaking My Heart are phenomenal books I couldn't recommend enough; that being said, both also deal in some heavy topics, so if you need trigger warnings, by all means, reach out!

Here you can read the Book of the Living 1, which Lauren writes over the course of her story:

Here's a preview of You're Breaking My Heart you can listen to!

Even though this is the last day of the event, I still want to tag @r4trave and @okapi8 just to let you know about some awesome artists and stories!!! I invite everyone to share your favorite Black artists and creators in the comments of this post🌟

[malk1ns]

february 27 vs flyers, 5-4 OT win

i was sent a picture that appeared on the jumbotron before the game started and it looked like geno had a lock on the front of his breezers, almost like he was wearing some sort of chastity device....

inspiration also drawn from the second picture in this tweet.

Sid doesn’t usually put Geno in chastity during games.

Practices are one thing. Nobody’s really going all-out and there’s very little contact—it’s not a regular thing, but sometimes Sid will be in a mood, or Geno will be acting out pre-rut, or they’re using it to make their afternoon plans a little more exciting. Chastity at work has fallen out of favor in general, and in pro sports in particular where even the most well-designed cage can cause injury with the wrong movement. 

Geno’s rut is due in a month, and his eye is starting to wander like it does this time every year. Normally Sid doesn’t mind; all alphas look, everyone knows that, and at the end of the day it’s Sid that Geno comes home to, Sid who Geno spends his ruts into, Sid who wears Geno’s bite on his neck.

Sometimes, though, Sid’s even keel about Geno’s tendency to drool after whatever other omegas are out on the ice upends itself. The first game in their home-and-home against Philadelphia turns out to be the tipping point.

Sid hasn’t paid much attention to how the Flyers are doing this year. They’re not contenders and neither are the Penguins, and the rivalry isn’t as blood-hot as it was when they were younger. He still gets a rush out of scoring in Philadelphia, but it’s not the same level of hatred. Maybe he’s getting soft as he gets older, or maybe over a decade of the Flyers being practically irrelevant while Sid had to make room for three Stanley Cups and two Conn Smythes on his trophy shelf cooled it off.

Whatever the reason, Sid’s vaguely aware that they’ve got a young Russian superstar in the making over there, but it’s not until Geno starts ‘casually’ stretching near him during warmups, making a point to skate by the Flyers bench during play stoppages to exchange a few words that Sid gives it more than a passing thought.

Geno had been restless on the trip back to Pittsburgh, handsy with Sid in a way he almost never gets after bad losses…unless something else got him riled up, of course.

He argued when Sid brought the chastity belt out after their pre-game nap, but Sid has his pride, and Geno’s easy to manipulate when he’s hopped up on his own hormones; he’s suggestible, extra vulnerable to an omega looking up at him through their lashes and putting a little whine in their voice. Knot-stupid, just like every alpha on the planet—they’re all the same at the end of the day.

Sid eased the sting by letting Geno hump his thighs until he came all over Sid’s skin; while Geno was sprawled out on their bed, knot deflating and half-drunk on his orgasm, Sid cleaned himself up, wiped Geno down, and locked him into his cage, all before Geno was coherent enough to notice and try to talk his way out of it.

That doesn’t stop him from arguing the entire way to the rink.

“Hurts,” he whines, shifting in the passenger seat. Sid keeps his eyes on the road; seeing Geno squirm like this always gets him going, and if he gives off even a hint of interest Geno will be on him all night. “Sid, can’t wear during game, like, people see.”

“Should have thought of that on Tuesday before you were drooling after that kid,” Sid says, laying on the horn and swerving into the turn lane he needs at the last second. “Whoops. If I could trust you to keep it in your pants, I wouldn’t have to do this. He’s way too young for you anyway; you’ll thank me after your rut once you’re done being embarrassed.”

“No,” Geno mutters petulantly, but he slouches in his seat and stays quiet the rest of the drive.

The guys notice. It’s impossible not to. Sid holds his breath as they get changed, keeping an eye on where Geno’s practically trying to crawl into his stall, but nobody says anything. The team is never shy about giving them a hard time when Geno shows up wearing it to practice, but that’s different and they know it—dirty jokes and poorly-done innuendo doesn’t apply here.

Everyone gives Geno space, except for Karl who sits next to him for a while. Sid keeps half an eye on the way they bend towards each other to whisper; Karl’s omega keeps him on a pretty tight leash, and while he’s never had to play a game in chastity Sid knows for a fact that Mel has her own methods to keep him under control when his rut is approaching.

The cage works. Geno doesn’t so much as look at the Flyers’ bench the whole first period. Granted, he doesn’t do much of anything else either, and they troop off the ice at intermission down one and with basically no pushback to show for it.

Sid’s as much at fault as anyone; he spent most of the first 20 minutes watching Geno, tracking his path across the ice and cataloging the slump of his shoulders on the bench. He ignores Sully’s irritated diatribe in favor of watching Geno listlessly spin his stick in his stall, eyes downcast and thighs pressed tight together.

Sid’s lips twist into a frown. It’s working, but not the way he anticipated. He wanted Geno focused and hungry, not embarrassed and withdrawn.

Just as they’re about to walk back out for the second, Sid tugs Geno’s sleeve to hold him back. “Hey,” he says, keeping his voice low. “Get this game for us and I’ll make it worth your while.” He cuts his eyes to Geno’s groin where the outline of the lock is pressing against his pants.

Geno doesn’t say anything, but Sid knows when he’s caught Geno’s attention.

It takes another two goals against and a goalie change that has the entire bench cowering under Ned’s anger, but when Geno flips that switch he’s still one of the best in the league, and Sid loves nothing more than sitting back and watching him decide the outcome of a game by sheer will alone.

When Geno snaps the OT winner into the net, Sid can’t get to him fast enough. He practically pushes past Kris to slide under Geno’s arm, tilting his head just a bit, enough for Geno to scent him but (probably) not enough for anyone else to notice what he’s doing out in the middle of the ice with every camera on them.

“That was so hot,” he says under his breath as they skate to the bench, biting back a smile when Geno tries to follow him down the tunnel and gets yanked back. First star of the night gets media duty when it’s a national game, and Sid loves making Geno wait.

Geno’s practically gagging for it by the time he gets back to the locker room, but then the team cameras crowd around him for the helmet video. He stumbles his way through a little speech, eyes cutting to Sid constantly as he trots out something encouraging. Sid slips out when the reporters are let in, taking pity on Geno’s distraction and giving him room to breathe so he can talk to the media without giving them a soundbite he’ll regret later.

By the time Geno barges out of the locker room, hair still wet and eyes wild, Sid’s waited just about as long as he himself can stand without starting to fray at the edges; Geno must be absolutely miserable.

Sid chatters through the whole drive home, as much to give himself something to think about that’s not Geno’s dick as it is to help Geno out. Geno’s responses are mostly grunts, but he laughs at Sid’s shitty joke about Torts, so Sid’s feeling pretty good when they pull into his garage.

As soon as they’re up in the bedroom, Geno’s on him.

“Please,” he groans, mouthing at Sid’s throat. He has Sid pinned to the wall and he’s rubbing himself all over Sid’s body. Sid can feel the metal from the chastity belt through Geno’s thin sweatpants. “Sid, need so bad, you’re say to me if I win you game you give to me, please, it hurts.”

“Okay, big guy,” Sid gasps, fighting off his instinctive urge to fawn, to swoon into Geno’s arms and let Geno take him. “You’re right. You got me that game—let me take this thing off and I’ll take care of you.”

Geno fights it, but Sid powers him down onto the mattress and strips off his clothes before sitting on Geno’s thighs, effectively pinning him in place. Geno thrashes, working to try and throw Sid off and get him belly-down and presenting, but Sid can see it in his eyes—he likes it when Sid bosses him around just as much as Sid does.

Sid keeps the key for Geno’s cage on his necklace, and he fishes it out from under his shirt with shaky hands, almost dropping the chain once it’s unclasped. The sound Geno makes when Sid frees his dick and balls from the constrictive metal is more pain than it is pleasure, and Sid doesn’t give him a second of relief, getting his hands around Geno’s dick and stroking him until he’s hard.

“Damn,” Sid says, mouth watering. Geno fully hard is impressive; even for an alpha he’s big, dick curving up to his belly button and veiny. The skin where his knot swells is loose, and Sid knows from experience that it’s sensitive as hell. When he pinches it, Geno practically howls.

Sid squeezes his thighs around Geno’s legs tighter and rocks down, shivering a little at the stimulation over his pussy. He’s wet and throbbing—Geno’s rut doesn’t always trigger his heat, but he suspects this year it will, with how attuned he’s felt to Geno’s shifts in hormones over the last few weeks. “What do you want?” he manages, clenching down on nothing. “You could fuck me, or I could use my mouth. Whatever you want.”

Geno looks distraught, hands flying to Sid’s side as Sid fumbles his shirt off. “Siiiiid,” he whines, plucking at the waistband of Sid’s sweats until Sid lifts up enough to somehow rip his way out of those too. “So hard to choose, like, both so good.” He bites his lip, and Sid suppresses a whine of his own; he wants to do that. “Pussy always so sweet though, think I want to be inside.” His hands find the creases of Sid’s hips, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. “You give?”

“Anything,” Sid groans, lifting up and sliding down onto Geno’s dick without giving either of them time to adjust. “Fuck.”

Geno’s hands spasm around his hips as Sid sets a rhythm, bracing himself against Geno’s chest and ducking his head. Geno’s huge and hot in him, and Sid’s legs are sore, but he’s falling into the pheromones Geno’s pumping out—they’re fogging up his brain, erasing the muscle strain from the game and the pain in his elbow and leaving behind nothing but white-hot pleasure. Sid thinks his toes are curling.

“Malysh,” Geno rumbles, alpha-deep from his chest, and when he moves to flip them over Sid doesn’t offer an ounce of resistance. Geno cages him in, arms on either side of Sid’s head, and Sid purrs, baring his throat. Geno’s bite mark feels like it’s throbbing and fresh.

Geno ducks his head into Sid’s neck and fucks into him, careless and hard and feral, and all Sid can do is lie there and take it, every ounce of strength sapped from him as Geno’s knot starts to swell in him.

When it catches, the noise Sid makes is animal, desperate, and when Geno’s hand sneaks between them and closes around his dick he comes so hard he loses the ability to breathe for a second.

Geno’s own breathing is heavy in Sid’s ear, labored and undercut with a nasal whine as he humps forward, knot caught but the need to fuck into Sid until Sid is well and truly claimed still pushing him. It’s not like the steamy romance novels all the Russians in the league are always passing around for their book club, Sid can’t feel Geno come inside him, but he can Geno’s knot twitch, can feel his balls pulse against his ass as they empty themselves into him, and it’s arousing enough to make his soft dick twitch painfully.

Geno always goes nonverbal when he’s knotting Sid, so Sid runs his hands down Geno’s back and purrs as hard as he can, feeling Geno’s frantic heartbeat start to slow as Sid settles them down.

By the time Geno’s knot has shrunk enough to pull out, he’s regained his ability to speak.

“Oh god,” he groans, flopping onto his stomach and narrowly missing clocking Sid in the face with his arm. “Best.”

“Uh huh,” Sid says, blinking rapidly to try and keep from passing out right there. “Good work tonight.”

Geno snorts a laugh into the pillow, then heaves himself to his feet and stumbles for the bathroom. Sid listens to him piss and wash his hands, letting himself wallow in the vast fondness that rushes through his chest.

Alphas have wandering eyes. Alphas need to be kept in their place, reminded where they belong. Alphas are ruled by their instincts and their hormones, and the closer they get to rut the more like animals they act. Everyone knows that.

What Sid also knows is that Geno never lets Sid get up after they fuck, insisting that he be the one to get water and clean Sid off. He knows that Geno will stay up half the night, long after he thinks Sid’s fallen asleep, tracing the scar he left on Sid’s throat all those years ago. He knows that Geno will do anything, reverse the clock a decade and a half on the ice, if it will make Sid happy. 

Sid wriggles on the mattress until he can get to his discarded pants, pulling his phone out of his pocket and tapping at the screen, holding the phone close to his face and closing one eye so he can see. Geno always somehow manages to have all of Sid’s favorite stuff on hand for his heats, everything he happens to be craving that cycle there for him to indulge in; Sid needs to do a better job of returning the favor this year.

[sir-adamus]

I think it's weird that Z-A is going to have two starters from the same generation while Arceus' starters were each from a different generation.

yeah a lot of this trailer seemed pointed at establishing that what we saw in Legends Arceus isn't grounds to assume the way other Legends games are going to operate

the starters are 2/3rds Gen 2 instead of all being from different gens

it's set after the events of XY instead of being a century or so before like Arceus was to DPPt; a semi-futuristic setting instead of a historical one

we're solely contained to the one city as opposed to having big open wild areas

battling mechanics have once again been altered, now with more focus on player positioning and distance and how that effects the efficacy of moves (which, by the way, is a consideration that makes so much sense in hindsight)

because we're in the 'present' still, we're not going to see ancestors of familiar characters but instead we'll just see those familiar characters in among the new ones (AZ in the trailer, i can't imagine Clemont won't show up considering his gym is at the center of the city, we see the Looker Detective Agency at one point which means Emma/Essentia has to be a presence - probably older and an established superhero at this point)

a rival isn't just the player character you didn't pick (as was the case in RSE/ORAS, DPPt, HGSS sort of, Legends Arceus, and pointedly, XY); while they keep the default hairstyle they have a wholly different look and different eye and hair colour (complexion-wise they look like the palest option you can normally pick - with the pale blue eyes and blond hair - so maybe there'll be other differences depending how you initially customise your character)

the story in Arceus was you helping a newly settled area and building a pokédex at a time when the concept was new; catching them all is how you complete the story. in Z-A we're assisting the redevelopment of a modern city, so while we'll almost certainly have a Pokédex (we do have Rotom Phones after all), it's most likely not going to be a primary focus for this one (likewise, Arceus was entirely absent after the beginning until you completed the Pokédex, while it looks like Zygarde is going to be a recurring presence through this story - though if the title is any indication, we may have something new to contend with)

it really all feels like a ways to establish that no, we can't predict the formula for how Legends games are going to be like we can for main titles; they're gonna be changing things up every time beyond the core mechanics of the game being primarily capture based with less focus on battling

[starlene]

Anne of the Island Book Club: Chapter 27

Anne and Phil's friendship is so sweet. Also, I for one wish that Phil will never manage to take off that "frivolous skin over her soul" but that she'll grow to fully accept it as a part of who she is – like Jonas seems to already have done.

I'd like to read a little spinoff with Alec and Alonzo. Somehow, I imagine that despite setting their sights on the same woman, they're the best of friends, sort of like Lucy's three suitors in Dracula. Maybe they cried on each other's shoulders after Philippa told them she'd never have either of them. Who knows, maybe this heartbreak brings them even closer to each other and they'll end up living the confirmed bachelor life together.

This whole little plot thread with Phil and Jonas is very cute, but I can't help feeling annoyed and sad about the way Phil's fate as a poor man's wife who cooks and makes over dresses is laid out here. She is smart enough to go for a scholarship in either Greek or mathematics! She should become, I dunno, a bridge engineer or an economist or something!! But I guess she and her brilliant mathematical brain will have to contend with keeping accounts for her own household, and she doesn't even stop to question that. Reminds me to never take the opportunities we women have these days for granted!!

~

Speaking of the opportunities women have, Aunt Jamesina says her daughter is an M.A. I couldn't find info about the very first Canadian woman to earn her Master's degree – but for chapter 9, I found out that the first time a woman was awarded a Bachelor's degree in Canada was in 1875, so it's safe to assume the first female M.A. was sometime after that.

Dating the series backwards from Rilla of Ingleside, this book is supposed to take place in 1883–87, only a little over a decade after the first Canadian university started accepting female students... but personally, I'm just placing it on an alternate early 20th century timeline in my mind to make these details make some amount of sense. Aunt Jamesina's daughter just happening to be a super early Canadian pioneer for female education is simply too much of a coincidence for me. Plus, I think the girls would look much better in Edwardian fashion than in 1880s dresses!

~

"But it was very tolerable magazine verse" is a devastating thing to say about a poem the man you're supposedly in love with has written just for you. Good thing Roy can't hear what Anne is thinking.

~

Translation notes:

The Finnish translator gives Aunt Jamesina a little bit of extra snark when they discuss Phil's cooking skills:

"“Maybe,” said Aunt Jamesina cautiously." → "– God only knows – it wouldn't do to abandon all hope, said Aunt Jamesina cautiously"

Heh.

[greenzig]

would you be limiting this to just main + featured artist? i could understand why but it doesn't feel in the spirit of Bacon/Erdos numbers. it feels like limiting Bacon connections to actors who are only featured on the posters or only allowing papers if Erdos' name appears first. i could see the opposite viewpoint that it may be too broad, but i am going to argue for an individual producer i think would work for a replacement to the Sabbath number.

my first idea was producer Jack Antonoff due to his current notoriety as a producer. he's produced most of Taylor Swift's catalog, Kendrick Lamar's new album GNX, and is currently possibly the most sought after producer in pop music. the Wikipedia category "Song recordings produced by Jack Antonoff" currently contains 147 articles. here is his the current view of the discography section of his Wikipedia article:

but a problem became pretty obvious to me soon after, in that his notoriety is a very recent thing. Bacon's Years Active date on Wikipedia is 1977-present, and Erdos' first paper was in 1932. above that, it is very limited to pop music. finding someone's Antonoff number would essentially just be trying to find a connection between them and a modern pop star. that gave me the next idea: Rick Rubin.

Rick Rubin is possibly the biggest living producer. and he isn't limited to one genre. he has produced highly successful pop, heavy metal, alternative rock, hard rock, nu metal, and country albums. though his most notable work is in the genre of hip hop, a genre in which he started producing records with the Beastie Boys, LL Cool J, Public Enemy and Run-DMC in the 80s. this solves the issue of having a long running career, and genre-exclusivity. but there isn't really a better way to describe why i think he's a perfect contender than to link to you the wikipedia article Rick Rubin production discography.

anyways for your consideration: the Rubin number. and as a bonus: Rick Rubin has a Bacon number of 2.

yeah, I'll say it. I don't like Sabbath Numbers as the canonical music equivalent of erdos/bacon numbers. like the canonical thing to do would be to base it on which artists have featured each other, and for the Zero Point to be one specific person known for featuring a lot of artists and/or being featured by a lot of artists (like, say, DJ Khaled). but no it's based on people performing live together, and the zero point is just any member of Black Sabbath. it's very clearly not that well thought out

[blizardstar]

Me when Ashton Greymoore is denied honorable and meaningful self-sacrifice, and now must face the reality that they MUST keep living after it’s All Over

[ghosted-jazz]

A supermoon occurs when the full moon coincides with the moon's closest approach to Earth in its orbit. Supermoons make the moon appear a little brighter and bigger than normal

[tardxsblues]

say what you will about steven moffat, but nothing emotionally terrorizes me quite like an episode of doctor who written by that man

[autismsupersoldier]

[date of origin: 2023/06/04]

the world hates to see silly girls thrive!!!

[front-facing-pokemon]

[formulanni]

I’m not a fan of Daniel, but the way he’s going is so brutal I can’t help but feel bad 😭

[acadieum]

2024 artfight doodle dump!

[ocs belong to @sensiblegh0st | @night-like-gold | @a-little-pigeon | @zeifure | @sharkivist | @ungarmax ]

[vaguely-concerned]

I love the way lucanis pronounces 'ferelden' just slightly awkwardly/uncertainly in his first banters with harding that bring it up -- like maybe he hasn't had cause to say it out loud much in common and is having that moment of second language use stumble where you go 'shit it'd be. something like that, right? that sounds about right?? 😬'. it feels like such a neat and well-observed little detail to slip in there I love the voice acting in this game

[fisheito]

rediscovered some eiden trivia in vampire yaku's rooms (R3 to be exact)!!!

idk if it's mentioned in other rooms, but eito has a scar on his head from around the time he left the orphanage. exact location unknown but

- he needs to part his hair to get to it

- can't see it so he forgets about it

- sometimes feels it when he washes his hair

Reason: one of his bosses [nepotism megadouche] was spouting foul things about orphans

Eiden was so pissed off even after going home that he smashed a glass out of rage and TADA!! CONSEQUENCE[shard heckin GOT 'IM]!

He says it feels embarrassing to bring up his former hotheadedness...how his uncontrolled rage in that moment is now immortalised in his scar..... the sides of himself he wants to hide from others..........