#who can simply read backwards what is being said and understand

[theskeletoninthegarden]

My bestie said this was a good idea, so now I'm sharing.

I started a Hobbit fic the other day, and liked the idea of having a language barrier between the insert and the world at large (Middle Earth, minus the Maiar, b/c of Reasons).

Rather then create an entirely different language (perhaps later, but I already have more then eight tabs open for this fic at a time), I decided to be lazy...and just flip the dialogue of the insert.

"There was a hole in the earth, Bilbo" becomes "Htrae eht ni eloh a saw ereht, Bilbo." Proper nouns remain the same, they are not reversed and will appear in the text where they are meant to in the mind of the insert. If the insert wants, they can spell out words, letter by letter, and the listener can piece those together.

Bless websites like ReverseTextGenerator.

[pomefioredove]

Hey Dove~

I was reading through the different headcannons and the mute reader really caught my attention. Could you possibly do the Vice Wardens (including Ruggie cuz he's basically second in command anyway) with Yuu that has a speech impediment? Basically they stutter/stumble on words, get them mixed up, pronounces them wrong, and maybe forgets certain words. And obviously with new arcana and magical words (and the weird ahh names some of these characters have) they can get pretty frusterated or embarressed.

You always have such good headcannons!! Feel free to throw in any other characters that you like to the mix as well!!

OH this hits close to home too. I stutter and mispronounce things when I do speak, so I'm using that for reference

twst x mute reader

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ reader with a speech impediment

summary: as described type of post: headcanons characters: trey, ruggie, jade, jamil, rook, lilia additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu

see, I don't think Trey would say anything about it

he's not one to criticize strangeness

that would be rude, first of all

second of all, there's no such thing as "normal" at NRC

(even so, some people may point it out, but he's not one of them)

he doesn't have any trouble understanding you, either

he grew up with younger siblings who pronounced owl as "awa" and kitty as "shishi" until they were six

he's certainly patient

and he knows how to use context

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

honestly? Ruggie didn't even... notice?

for a while, he just thought you talked fast

he knows how it goes; you get excited or nervous or whatever, and you end up stumbling all over yourself

no biggie

then one day you come up to him all sad and teary, apologizing for a speech impediment he didn't even know you had, and he's like...

...oh! no!

of course he's not annoyed!

Ruggie's an adaptive guy, after all. when he wants something, he'll bend backwards for it

you think a little stuttering is gonna stop him from being friends with you?

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

much like Trey, Jade doesn't say anything

he just watches you talk

and smiles

like this -> :)

it's not that he's particularly concerned about being rude, he's just...

observing

humans are such fascinating creatures, he thinks

he learns all of your quirks just by listening to you

which words you have trouble with, which ones you mix up and forget, which consonants you stumble over...

he teaches himself your language

and he becomes a sort of translator for you

any time someone is rude to you, he'll come out of nowhere and tell them everything you said in the exact order you said it

weird, but nice

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

to put it plainly, Jamil has bigger problems

whether or not he can understand you doesn't really matter to him

it's not his job to worry over you

then, you come to him asking for help, and...

...well, he's flattered

he can't deny he likes that you come to him for guidance before anyone else

because of this, (and because he had to learn how to control his own tongue when he was little), he takes pity on you

whether your goal is to work on your speech, or to simply feel less anxiety about it, he's there

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

is it cliche to say that Rook already knows exactly what you're thinking?

perhaps, but it's true

he's mastered the art of observation

he can read your thoughts in your expression, your body language, even the slightest twitch in your lips gives you away

he just knows

you don't have to be a good speaker, or a speaker at all, to communicate with Rook

(and he can do all the talking for you if you'd like, he'd probably enjoy that)

and, of course, he is of the opinion that there is beauty in everything

you don't need to be perfectly clear and concise for him to like you

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

now, I can't guarantee that Lilia won't tease a little

only in good fun, of course

and only if you respond in kind

but he does find it rather cute when you mispronounce something, or mix up your words

he won't correct you or interrupt you, either

he'll step in to help if you're really struggling, of course, but he thinks of you as capable

he does remind you to take breathers when you're getting too anxious about it, though

he cares <3

[jemmo]

Making sense of love for love's sake: the game

Despite all the things i absolutely adore about how the plot unravels and expands in love by love's sake, upon first watch, there's some things i couldn't piece together, which @lurkingshan echoes in their post:

'The way the author was messing with Myungha and forcing cruel choices on him really does not track with a desire to help him find happiness.'

And to preface, this is not something i fully get yet either. I think i'll need a good month and a sizeable reading list of relevant resources to understand just what/who this author/sunbae is and what his role is and how he is associated with myungha. But as always with the best shows for meta (aka bad buddy), as a plot unfolds, you can always find a better understanding by looking backwards and re-contextualising what you've already seen. so i watched ep 1, specifically the scene between myungha and his sunbae at the bar. And i will talk about how everything said in this scene has a whole new meaning now we know the full story, but for now i wanna focus on that question that they keep coming back to; "Then... will you change it for him?".

When you watch the show for the first time, your brain follows the simplest, most obvious version of the story you're being told, one where myungha has been pulled into the world of his sunbae's novel that's being turned into a game and given the opportunity to fix the thing he didn't like about it; making yeowoon happy, and thus you just think the rules of the game are imposed by the author, and so when these cruel choices first come up, you see them as the difficult roadblocks that are nevertheless necessary to any kind of game, forcing the player to make an impossible choice so that the game can continue in a certain direction and its only after that you learn whether it was the right choice or not, or there is no right choice, it simply changes the game you are playing.

And when its revealed what this game actually is, at first i tried to interpret these cruel choices, namely the choice between yeonwoon and myungha's grandma, and at best i could come up with the concept of this being a choice between staying stuck to the past aka choosing his grandma, even though he knows that choice doesn't mean she's safe bc he knows the future where he loses here, its an inevitability, but thats the small happiness he knew before it was taken away and thus that happiness is known and safe, theres no risk, versus choosing to pursue a new happiness, a love of yeowoon and thus himself, which he doesn't know, he hasn't experienced yet, and could be risky. Its a happiness that isn't guaranteed like his grandma, but its a happiness that looks to the future and has hope in it that he can find a new happiness to pursue despite what has happened in his past.

And that fits nice, okayish. But then i watched ep 1 and heard that question "Then... will you change it for him?" And watching through the rest of the eps, we come back to this scene at the bar and each time we get a new run up to the author asking this question, either new dialogue is added or we hear a different piece of the conversation entirely. It starts at the beginning of ep 1 as:

"Because Cha Yeowoon is the only one who's miserable." "It can't be helped that some people's lives are like that" "The fact that some people are destined to live that kind of life is what's vile."

Then a bit later in ep 1 we go back and its expanded.

"It can't be helped that some people's lives are like that" "The fact that some people are destined to live that kind of life is what's vile." "Why? Do you think you'd write it differently?" "Yes, definately. Someone like Cha Yeowoon, or someone like me with an awful life, can also be happy."

And then all the way on in ep 6, we get this new dialogue.

"I don't like talking about destiny." "Why?" "Because it means everything is predestined." "Then do you not believe in fate?" "Fate and destiny are the same. My grandma likes to say that. She said life is like a written book, and how you'll live and die are written in it. (...)I don't like things like this. Even if fate is already destined, I think it can still be changed. Otherwise, there's no point in trying." "Really? Then Myungha..."

And while we don't hear the author ask the same question, I feel like him getting cut off like that insinuates that the conversation leads to that same ending point. All that is to say, every time we hear this question being asked, its like we learn more and more about what this whole thing is, what the game is, what myungha is saying he will do by agreeing to do what the author asks. And every time, we see myungha being more defiant against the idea of yeowoon being resigned to his miserable ending. He starts off thinking that kind of life is destined, and while it's miserable, its not something he can fight. Then he says he'd want to write the story differently, bc yeowoon, or even him, could be happy. He challenges the idea that yeowoon, and thus himself, is fated to be miserable, and opens up the possibility for happiness for them both, but doesn't yet have the means or resolve to do it, its like he knows its possible on a fundamental level, but doesn't see it as something he can actually achieve. But then we circle back to the idea of destiny and books, both of which came up in the previous quote, and seems incredibly pertinent seen as this whole thing is about a novel this author has written. Myungha talks about how he hates the idea that life is a book where everything written is predestined to happen, from the moment you live to the moment you die. He says "Even if fate is already destined, I think it can still be changed. Otherwise, there's no point in trying." That vile way of life he described before that he said was destined, he is now saying it can be changed, and that possibility is now something he's holding onto, its what he sees hope in so that he can keep trying, bc now he finally is trying, he has the resolve, he's trying to realise this thing, this impossibility of rewriting the life he thought was destined through the way he loves yeowoon.

And coming back to those cruel choices, given this fresh context, it made me think. bc this isn't actually a game that myungha has been put into where the rules are dictated by an author completely separate from him. He said himself, he'd rewrite it, he'd change things for yeowoon. And when you start to think of it less as him fighting against a rigid, removed system and more like him being a character in a story he is trying to rewrite himself, that has both the author and his own limitations, or just his own if you're in the school of thought that the author is some figment or part of myungha himself or his conciousness, then you can start to see where these cruel choices might come from. They could be myungha, the author making edits to this new story, imposing his own doubts and limitations on himself. When he says he has to pick between Yeowoon and his grandma, what if that's the new author myungha seeing this story unfold and thinking no this isn't right, he can't have it all, i'm not deserving of this much happiness.

And what makes me like this idea even more is that when we get that second choice between ending after 14 days or getting 100 days back at the cost of resetting Yeowoon's affection to 0, that whole conversation happens in what I think the bar actually is which is this frozen moment in time where myungha is in the water with this extension of a voice in his head that is talking through these things. That conversation in itself needs its own post, but when you look at it both as a decision to break up or not or a decision to hold onto life or not, you can see how the author is just this soundboard relaying the decisions myungha is going through in his head. The author's voice is his own, weighing up his decisions. And if he is the author here, it only reinforces that the person making the rules of this game is him. You can even extend it further to the idea of the debuffs, where he puts in place this thing that makes it so he causes harm to yeowoon when he's around, and its only by garnering affection that he can prevent it. He gives himself a reason from the get go to stay away from yeowoon and reason it as him doing it for yeowoon's safety, when in fact the only way to make yeowoon safe is to increase his affection, which he can only do by being near him. Its a system that at first gives myungha a reason to stay away aka not like himself, but ultimately says the only way you're going to make yeowoon like you, or the only way you can like yourself, is if you accept risk. And that in itself screams to me of a myungha writing in these game systems that are trying to encourage his own-self love while falling at the hurdle of his own lack of self-worth.

The idea is still messy in my head even for me, but i just really like the idea that myungha could be trying to fix this thing both as a character and game master, and that both these versions of him have these flaws that manifest in their different ways to cause the events we see. It kinda is the definition of being your own worst enemy, the idea that in order to work towards loving yourself, the biggest obstacle you have to encounter is yourself, bc we are the ones holding ourselves back, making all these rules that make it harder to like ourselves and pursue our own happiness. The voices in our head telling us that we aren't good enough and aren't deserving are our own, and while the things that happen to us can inform what they say, we're the one's reinforcing those words. And what this show teaches us is that, if we're the one holding that pen all along, we can choose to change what those words are. If we make the rules, you don't have to create a game with concrete ultimatums, you can create a game where rules don't control you. Instead, you make the decisions, and you can make the ones that make you happy.

[urfavoritedcwhore]

henry winter as your secret boyfriend//headcannons//some sexual

he hates being late, and hates even more when you make him late.

let’s you smoke his cigarettes with no fuss.

he’s beat up a guy at a party for bumping into you once.

he knows that your smart, but refuses to admit it.

constantly tells you things in latin you don’t understand.

he finds it extremely unattractive when you swear, but also a bit cute when you do it out of excitement.

he holds your hand under your desks in greek class if he thinks your having a bad day.

will often talk in french to you in front of the others if he’s trying to have a private conversation with you.

“y/n, ai-je laissé ma ceinture dans ton dortoir la dernière fois que je suis venu ?” “je ne sais pas Henry, tu peux vérifier ce soir lors de ta visite”

he’s endured many days of watching Richard flirt with you

he’s always getting mad and saying your flirting back when all your doing is being polite.

switches from english to greek when he’s speaking with you drunk, and never realizes it.

you think it’s incredibly funny

julian is the only person who knows about your relationship.

you would tell the others, if you thought it wouldn’t make things super awkward.

francis walked in on you two once having a romantic dinner at henry’s apartment, but was too drunk to realize what was going on.

bunny constantly jokes about how henry can’t get women to you.

when you two are alone he’s constantly holding your hand, your waist, your face, or just simply cuddling with you.

he tells you everyday that your the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.

nsfw headcannons:

this man is a top, no doubt about it.

he’s usually gentle with you, but if you piss him off, you’re getting badly punished.

once you were acting extra bratty with him at dinner with all the others around.

you weren’t allowed to cum for a week after that😔

he’s a boob guy

if he’s feeling extra spicy, he’ll play with you under the table at charles and camilas weekly dinners.

“y/n, why are you squirming so much?” “sorry camila i- *fake cough to cover up a moan* im just feeling a little hot.”

he never looks at you while he’s doing this. just continues his conversation and eats his dinner with an expressionless face.

has tied you up before and overstimulated you for hours, just because you said that he was too gentlemen like in bed.

“do you still think i’m too much of a gentleman darling?” “oh, looks like someone can’t speak. are you gonna say your safe word?”.

you never say your safe word.

he smokes and shares his cigarette with you while you two are in missionary.

missionary is his favorite position when he’s being gentle. he likes to be able to watch your face when you cum and feel you moaning into his mouth while he fucks you.

when he’s not being gentle, your legs WILL be on top of his shoulders. he likes knowing that you’re completely at his mercy and can push your legs backwards and slide you off his dick if he doesn’t want you to cum.

you two used protection for the first few times you slept together, but he took you to the gynecologist and paid for you to get an implant after you both tried it raw for the once and loved it.

you’ve woken up a million times to him touching you as he’s reading a book. (don’t worry you talked about it before and consented to it)

he doesn’t look up from his book until he feels you tightening around his fingers and knows your about to cum.

he moans especially loud when he’s drunk.

he loves to praise you.

“look at you, taking all of me like a good girl.” “you think you can cum for me one more time darling? ohh good job baby”

after sex he’s always gonna fix himself, and you, a glass of scotch before getting back in bed and reading to you until you fall asleep.

[sparks-chaotic-cove]

(Sky)BoundSMP Luxtent Log

Hello! This one will be similar to my avicane log, updating semi-regularly when we learn new information. Due to how long SkyBound has been going on, I will just say this first update includes spoilers up to the lore that happened on 10/4/2024 :]

Due to this being boundsmp, TWs for this log include: mentions of human experimentation, explosions, death, blood, and other harsh topics. BoundSMP is a heavy series, so make sure you recognize that!

First off, what is Luxtent?: Luxtent is a cipher language that is used within the world of (Sky)BoundSMP. It includes sigils made by sharp, straight lines, and various characters look similar but are indeed different. This language is used to direct magic onto or into things, or to wield that magic into a different purpose (such as collecting magic into a crystal, transforming a person, creating tracking devices, writing protections, etc). Simply put, Luxtent is the language of magic. Generally it is used to cipher english (mostly by the Avicane) or latin (mostly by the Vercane). Latin luxtent is often more intention driven due to the natural variation and contextual meanings of many latin words, while English Luxtent is more clear and direct.

What is the Luxtent Alphabet? Luxtent mirrors the English alphabet, and the translation key can be found here ( https://the-bound-smp.fandom.com/wiki/Luxtent_Sigil_Language ) with a printable version here ( https://docs.google.com/document/d/1-GoWUvmUYZ4IewGkkR9hmgFdUx9Px1ckLdc01U90kPk/edit?usp=sharing ).

Here's what we know about Luxtent:

It is a cipher, not its own language

many BoundSMP characters have it written on them, including Vast, Armor, and Rune. Vast and Armor's luxtent is in English, while Rune's seems to be in Latin.

the Avicane heavily use English Luxtent, while the Vercane mainly use Latin Luxtent.

The obelisks have luxtent written on them, though it is uncertain the entire true point of said writing, as the sigils are broken by crystals.

Luxtent is not exactly written linearly, like how English is written left to right, and other languages right to left, or top to bottom, or bottom to top. Luxtent, as long as the sigils are near each other to form consistent words, can be written in any direction (except backwards, it seems), However, most luxtent writers seem to tend towards follow writing it left to right (with exceptions like Vast's back sigils)

Even in English luxtent, intention seems important. Some intentions are more clear- for example, "Sharp" is written on Armor's wrists, presumably for sharp claws. However, Vast's back sigils, "fly for those that fell" and "Worthy" being on Armor's chest have less clear meanings.

To invoke magic, luxtent generally has to use a magic-based ink, such as the rudimentary magic ink Vast created with essence powder and normal ink.

Normal materials, like cloth and leather, tend to not be able to hold magic and therefore combust. Many crystals seem to be able to be infused with magic without a problem. Rune has mentioned that cloth may need to be woven with magical essence within it to withstand the flow of magic.

Luxtent written on people forms tattoo-like markings. How painful these markings are depends on the care taken when writing them and the ink used to write them.

Transformation magic requires being able to draw on another person's magic to infuse the person being transformed with their new features. (ex: Vast and Kalia needing a Zygote crystal, formed by using a fallen Avicane- or rather failed avicane trainee- to power it. Additionally, Aloy required other avian's magic to transform Armor).

Most people cannot understand Luxtent, including most Avicane members. However, Rune is able to read and write it, as is Armor, with Vast and I believe Virgil to be learning.

Luxtent is highly dangerous, and without the proper sigils and direction of magic, can cause dangerous consequences (like literally blowing up in one's face).

Who do we know of that has Luxtent? what does it say?:

Vast has a small amount of luxtent on his back, spelling out "Fly for those that fell"

Additionally, she also has some on her hands that she wrote herself, one saying "siphon" and I believe the other one saying "release", though I may be wrong on the second one

(Both art pieces by Heyhay13)

Rune has luxtent written practically all over him- Some we know of, some we don't! However, Rune's luxtent, unlike Armor and Vast's, is all if not mostly in Latin! An example of such is "infragilis" written on his chest:

(Art by ArtfulRenegade) Armor also has luxtent all over him, which is commonly obscured by clothing. We know he has "Sharp" written on his wrist (as seen at the stream for Kalia's memorial), and "Atlas created of feather and fang" on his back.

Finally, the only other one we know (or at least I know) is "Worthy", written on Armor's chest, more over their heart.

(Both art pieces by ggAbraxas)

That's all I've got for now! Have a good day!

Day written: 10/6/24

[fitzs-trained-monkey]

Like a Box of Chocolates

Word Count: 2,000 (I need to rethink my definition of short.)

Summary: Your best friend invites you over for Valentine's Day. Better to be lonely together, right? || Kol x reader|| Here lies my Masterlist ||

Warnings: Absolutely none, unless you count the sort of fluff that will melt your insides.

A/N: While I work on Rational Thinking part 4, have this drabble that I wrote last year and never posted. Won't Say I'm in Love from Hercules should be playing through your head on a loop by the time this is done.

💝 STORY BEGINS BELOW 💝

“Why, good afternoon, my dearest!” 

You would have been startled by the sudden appearance of your best friend, had you not been so used to him by now. Kol Mikaelson was a cheeky bastard and his fondness for seeing you jump had rendered his element of surprise non-existent. You rolled your eyes. 

“Hey, Kol.” Just managing to stow your books away before Kol pushed your locker shut, you re-adjusted your backpack and sent him a look. He leaned against the lockers, grinning at you as though he were simply happy to be there. The expression was bright and unusually sincere, it made you do a double take. “Oh, geez - he’s happy. That’s just frightening. Who’d you kill? Actually, nevermind that. What do you want from me?” You deadpanned, smirking. 

You didn’t think your best friend was capable of hurting a fly, however. True, the kid had a mischievous streak a mile long but you just couldn’t understand why other students seemed so afraid of him. Kol had never been anything but nice to you since the day you’d shown him around the school. Sure, you’d watched him beat the ever-loving crap out of one of the football players when the guy had catcalled you a while back, but that had been entirely deserved. Kol was a sweet, clever kid who, though he was certainly capable of being a social butterfly, preferred the company of just one or two really good friends. You were fortunate enough to have made it onto that list - along with Jeremy Gilbert. 

Kol huffed a laugh and slipped your bookbag off your shoulders in one smooth motion you weren’t entirely sure how he’d learned to do. You would have protested, but you’d long since quit trying. The guy was a gentleman that way.

“Valentines Day!” He announced as if it were obvious. He held your bag in one hand and wrapped his other arm around your shoulders.

“I think you mean -” You spread your arms wide as if presenting something to him - “Singles Awareness Day!”

Kol blinked. “Have you ever realized that the acronym for that just spells S.A.D?”

“I have indeed.”

He stared at you for a moment, then shook his head. “Whatever you call it, that’s today,” He said, smiling to himself.

You raised a brow. What was he so happy about? “Yes, I am aware it is the fourteenth day of February.”

He rolled and nudged you playfully. “Jeremy’s got himself a date - I want to know what you’re doing.”

Jeremy had a date? Huh. Go Gilbert. 

“I don’t know, Kol. You’re a smart cookie, why don’t you tell me?” You said, shrugging. 

“Alright.” He skipped ahead of you, walking backward. The boy stared at you with a mockingly contemplative look for a moment before snapping his fingers, having made his decision. “I deduce that you intend to come to my place for some friendly virtual combat, perhaps a few action movies, and the inordinate consumption of egregiously unhealthy foods.”

You tipped your head back and laughed. That kid knew you so well. “Spooky how you can read my mind like that.”

He grinned. “I am a man of many mysteries,” He declared.

“Right.”

In reality, you knew why he was inviting you over. You were his distraction and he was yours. Neither of you really liked Valentine's Day. That was one of the many things you could agree on. February fourteenth was just a painful reminder of what the both of you would never have - a meaningful and lasting relationship. Not even just a romantic one - the two of you had bonded over your bad luck with relationships in general. Between neglectful parents and - in his case - siblings, it would seem that to be loved in return was just too much for either of you to ask of the universe. 

Friends, however - friends you could do. Friends come and go, they have no obligation to provide you with lifelong love and support. It’s not a betrayal or a slight on their part when they fail to keep in contact after the two of you say goodbye that last time. That was how you liked it. No obligations - no contracts.

It was quite the pair the two of you made: the school F-Boy and Trust Issues Incarnate. (Yes, you were fully aware of the rom-com style cliché.) Yet, however unusual it was, Kol made you happy. He was one of the very few people you’d met who didn’t judge you for your bitter attitudes surrounding romance. The two of you were determined not to be sad today - there was no reason to be because you didn’t care anymore, or at least, that’s what you’d tried to convince yourselves. So even though Kol was cute - drop-dead gorgeous even - nothing was ever going to happen between you. In your experience - and you’d had quite a bit of it - there was no use in hoping otherwise. It just never led to anything good. Love wasn’t in the cards for either of you. The universe had just designed things that way. 

Valentine's Day is hard for the inherently unlovable. But you’d make do.

Kol gave you a ride from school, just like he did every day, though this time he brought you back to his apartment. Your parents wouldn’t notice - they never did.

Popcorn and video games came first. You agreed on Star Wars Battlefront, challenging him to a one-on-one fight. Kol got upset that you kept beating him. 

“I’m telling you, darling - playing as the bloody sniper is completely unfair!”

“Says the guy with the freaking gatling gun.”

“I can’t even get the thing spinning up before you’ve blown my head of!”

You just hummed, catching a piece of popcorn in your mouth. “That sounds like a skill issue.”

“You would say that… Cheat.”

So, you switched to Mario Kart. The two of you were pretty evenly matched until you got to Rainbow Road. Kol had been in second place the whole time then suddenly he hits the brakes and you have just enough time to wonder why the hell he would do that before your sorry ass is wiped off the map by a blue shell. You’re not a sore loser by any means but that boy had to be the sorest winner of all time. He only shut up when you threatened to leave. 

So you hunted down some ice cream and Kol dug through his rather impressive collection of movies for something that didn’t have a romance in it.

“Why does every decent film seem to require it’s main character’s to make love on screen!?” Kol griped, accepting the bowl of ice cream you passed him. 

You snorted. “Did you really just ask that question?”

“Yes!” He huffed.

You flipped yourself over on the couch and propped your head up on your elbows, leaning on the armrest whilst you batted your eyelashes at him. “It’s love, Kol! Don’t you understand? Does it not just pull at your heartstrings?” You sighed dreamily, kicking your legs back and forth in the air. 

Kol frowned. “No.”

You gasped, holding a hand to your chest as if offended. “What?! You don’t believe in love at first sight?! You don’t think that true love’s kiss can break any curse and that love conquers all and that people live happily ever after?! Oh, Kol! That’s so cold hearted of you!” If sarcasm were visible you’d be drenched in it.

Your best friend bit back a smile. “I wouldn’t keep this up if I were you.”

“Oh, what are you gonna do?” You smirked, gesturing to the DVD case he was currently holding. “Ya gonna throw DiCaprio at me?”

He grinned. “I might… or I could tickle you to death - you’ll never see it coming.”

“Well in that case-” You gave another overly dramatic sigh. “You should just kiss me and then all your problems will be magically fixed and you’ll be a model citizen because of my unconditional love and teenage angst!”

He tossed the Titanic case at your head. You dodged it with a laugh that ebbed away as he stood up and cracked his knuckles. You hadn’t thought he was serious about the tickling part. 

“Aw, crap.”

Kol pounced. His arms wrapped around you and he attacked your sides, lifting you off the ground so you couldn’t escape. You laughed and squealed but he was wholeheartedly intent on making you beg for mercy.

“Fine! FINE! You win!” You conceded, out of breath. You had a stitch in your side from laughing so hard. 

He set you on your feet and you huffed, pushing the hair out of your face. Kol just grinned.

“You know, you’re pretty cute all flushed like that,” He said gesturing to your face which you were sure had to be as red as a tomato. You rolled your eyes, vehemently ignoring the way his words made your face grow hotter. 

After all, it wasn’t going to happen.

“You’re such a dork.”

He held up a finger. “Ah! Don’t go around telling people that, love. I have a reputation to consider.”

You had to smile at him. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

So, after ice cream, the two of you spent the evening split between playing various card games and watching Supernatural re-runs. It was all fine and good until you somehow found yourselves on the couch. You were just sitting there, and you had gotten a little tired so you’d taken to resting your head on his shoulder. It was fine. It didn’t mean anything. Then he had to go and ruin it.

Kol picked you up by the hips - just as softly as he’d always touched you - and pulled you into his lap. His arms circled your waist and tugged you in close. It was your worst nightmare. You knew that boy would never ever do anything to hurt you - he just wasn’t that type of person - but that wasn’t the problem. The problem was that this - no matter what it seemed or what anyone else would think - would never be anything but platonic. It couldn’t be. 

Life is like a box of chocolates - that’s what everyone says. But the truth is, with a box of chocolates, you always know that despite how many nasty fillings there are, each box is guaranteed at least a few sweet truffles. Relationships aren’t like a box of chocolates - not for you. They never carried anything good and it wasn’t just disappointment you took from them. No, it was always a hundred different ways to shred your heart and you knew it wasn’t worth it by now. You weren’t dying for another heartbreak. You didn’t need that - not now. 

Life had proven to you before, time and time again, that you were the box of chocolates and nobody would ever stick around long enough to find the part that made you worth it. You were simply incapable of being loved. 

Yet, your stupid, traitorous heart yearned to be proven otherwise.

So even though you knew - you knew - this would never end well, you didn’t protest. You let him nuzzle your shoulder only as much as he dared. You let him hold you. After a while, you even stopped fighting the weight of your eyelids and began drifting off to sleep. 

Kol turned off the tv and you didn’t make a sound. He shifted to lay back, holding you against him as he shrouded your bodies in a blanket; yet, you didn’t stir.

Then he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head and whispered words so quietly you could scarcely catch them. 

“Goodnight, my dearest Y/N. I love you, even if you never love yourself enough to see it.” 

No. Those words couldn’t be for you. The tenderness in his voice couldn’t be for you. There had to be some mistake because your heart with all its cracks and gouges was not a thing of beauty, nor was it remarkable. It was just there, so why was this the first time in far, far too long that you could feel it beating.

You were inherently unlovable. You’d taken that as a fact for so long. 

How dare he tell you otherwise.

“You’re not supposed to love me, Kol. That’s not how this story ends,” You whispered into the dark.

That sweet boy froze because he’d been caught. Then he reached up and found your hand, tangling his fingers with yours. 

“I don’t care how this story ends,” He said, voice firm. “I’m changing it. You know me, love. I never do as I’m told.”

“I don’t know if I can believe you.”

“That’s alright. I love you anyway.”

You chuckled and squeezed his hand. “Happy Valentine’s Day then?”

“Happy bloody Valentine’s Day, darling.” 

Tagging: @yn-ymn-yln @r13mar @rootbeerfaygo @iiskittles16ii @fandomrulesall-blog @dark-night-sky-99 @railingsofsorrow @apolloroid @thatweirdoleigh @misswe03 @eat-cake @felinegrate @trikigirl271 @cute-freak27 @fayeatheart @archangelslollipop @aonungs-tsahik @sleepneverheardofher @space-princess-charming @heartbreakgrill @whatsupb18

[alygator77]

I came back to apologize for my previous ask about the smut in M&M. Not about the question, but the delivery.

Reading it in retrospect, it sounds terribly abrasive, abrupt, and rude. That was not my intention. I’m actually quite embarrassed that I typed it out the way I did. Very disrespectful, and I am sorry.

I’m also a single mother, AND a business owner, who happens to read a lot. And as a matter of fact, I do write my own fics.

When I came across yours, I was immediately enamored by it, especially because I had never seen anything like it. I LOVE the entire concept. Its creative and extremely relatable. Especially for people like me. I realize I should have led with that.

I felt very strongly that you needed to know I truly wasn’t trying to be an asshole when I asked. The delivery was awful though, and since I wrote it in the middle of the night when I was already tired and my brain was looking for smut (lol but not really funny), I projected that in a bad way.🤦🏼‍♀️ I truly regret it.

In an attempt at an explanation, I saw most of what I said as a joke, i.e. “Good God. If they moved any slower, they'd be going backwards ... Sorry ijs...” I remember actually laughing when I typed that.

It wasn’t meant to be an insult, but more rhetoric or hyperbole. I wasn’t careful with my expression, so I apologize for that, too.

All of that being said, I also just happen to be a straightforward person, but I wasn’t angry at all when I wrote it.

When I said “Why not omit the smut altogether?”, I was actually wondering why you didn’t just choose to just make it fluff instead (though you can do what you choose). As I read it, it didn’t feel like it was even mandatory, especially considering the dynamic between them, and how it was clear he had strong feelings for her from the beginning, even when they worked together.

I also admit that with the tags, I had an expectation of more, which is where the mess that came out of me originated, but I was absolutely not expecting it for every chapter.

I don't agree with adding too much, adding it in every chapter, or that the only thing that matters is sex. His character really is objectified a lot, and all of that can dilute a story very quickly or even ruin it.

My question was more geared towards gaining an understanding of why you chose the route you did. Which was a far better way of asking than the way I did, and there’s no excuse for that.

I hope you continue to write great stories, and again, I SINCERELY apologize for my insensitivity.

Firstly, I would like to say I really appreciate you reaching back out to me — I was pleasantly surprised to read this and it makes me SO happy to know that there are people like you on the internet, capable of addressing a misunderstanding in a respectful and thoughtful way. You being willing to send me this says a lot about who you are as a person, so seriously, thank you.

No hard feelings on my end, all is forgiven. I can completely see where you were coming from and I also relate — there have been many times in my life where I’ve said something and it came out different than what I intended. It happens love.

When I said “Why not omit the smut altogether?”, I was actually wondering why you didn’t just choose to just make it fluff instead (though you can do what you choose). As I read it, it didn’t feel like it was even mandatory, especially considering the dynamic between them, and how it was clear he had strong feelings for her from the beginning, even when they worked together.

I will happily go ahead and answer this question! There are two answers to it.

The first answer is that I will not omit the smut altogether simply because… I like sex? 🤷‍♀️ Idk, it’s a simple answer really, lol 😅 But I think to put it in perspective, I like sex in a different way most people consume on this platform. I am demisexual — so I have to have that close emotional bond with someone before I find them remotely attractive. When it comes to writing smut (and sometimes even reading it), this really plays a big part to both my inspiration and my comfort level.

Secondly, I’ll address what you said regarding the characters in the story, specifically relating to the comment about how the smut wasn’t mandatory. 

Personally, I do think the smut scene in ch 3 was relevant to the story bc it gave readers an insight into Satoru’s feelings/perspective. While yes, Satoru was drawn to reader in the beginning, he didn’t understand his own feelings, and there were walls he built up around his heart (you get a glimpse of this when he talks to reader about how he never wanted to get married; it was after their courthouse ceremony in ch 2).

Also, most of the interactions between him and reader were subtly intimate in chs 1-2… he really did not start acting more bold until after the smut scene in ch 3 (ie, he tries to kiss her in the supply room and in the kitchen). Basically, his walls did not come down until they shared that first kiss, because it solidified his own feelings for her. He mentions this to reader when they share their second kiss in ch 6.

If you listen to the song on my playlist for mhm called “Cardiac Arrest” by Bad Suns, it really speaks to the image I had of Satoru while writing the scene during/after their kiss in ch 2.

The moving too fast thing plays into readers character. She was cheated on by naoya (also naoya is just a prick lol), so of course trust is not something she is going to give lightly. I did not feel comfortable having the smut continue in ch 6 bc it felt like their relationship would regress — reader wasn’t honest with satoru yet yk? It would’ve felt super hypocritical for her to preach about how important trust is to her, but then not deliver it herself. putting myself in satoru’s position, I would feel pretty hurt if immediately after I fucked someone for the first time, they suddenly decide to tell me a secret they were hiding from me? 🙂‍↕️ Again... idk, that could be just me though, bc as I said, emotional bonds are big when it comes to physical intimacy for me.

Anyways, I hope this gave you some perspective to my own thought process and answered your question love.

As a fellow mom myself, just wanna say, you single moms are literal super heroes 🥺 Sending you love bc it is NOT easy. Thanks for reading my story and apologizing 🫶🏻

-aly💕

[spoonck]

refuting that one reviewer on here

I strongly suspect I’ll be blocked, so I’m pasting what I said here before anything else happens. This is basically a response to that snarky review we’ve all seen

Anyway to respond to their points: the game refutes most of the reviewers assumptions, if not ALL of them.

the majority of the “points” made here are based off of personal opinion, which is not really valid for the sake of this review. The reviewer keeps alluding to different types of media with similar premises, but who’s Lila is NOT westworld. It ISNT slay the princess. If you want those games, play them. If not, don’t bitch because the game you’re playing isn’t like them.

imagine if I went into a restaurant and ordered a cheeseburger. Upon eating it I exclaim “hey! This is nothing like my favorite restaurants! That makes it bad!” But if I wanted my favorite restaurants food, I should have eaten there, shouldn’t I?

as for the “points” about the characters being uninteresting.. buddy. Go through the ao3 tag. Go through the tumblr and Twitter tags. This game clearly has a very dedicated and active fan base. Are you saying all of them are objectively wrong for enjoying it? Or is it that you simply don’t like it and they do?

and to the final point- you seem to have taken a very superficial look at this game. “That means the game is superficial.” Is it? Or were you simply unwilling to give it any more of your time than you deemed worthy? If you set into playing something with the mindset you won’t enjoy it, you probably won’t enjoy it, and that seems to be what happened here.

as for your last arguments regarding Lila and tulpamancy- this is how I can tell you didn’t play the game very thoroughly. Lila ISNT a tulpa. She ISNT Lilith. Her entire point is to deceive the player with what she might be, so as to keep your attention. Now you have said you don’t find her captivating. Good for you! Doesn’t make it bad.

Something I also want to point out, is that the reviewer states that Lila is a mouthpiece for the author. This directly indicates the authors naïveté to me. The author is assuming the game is going to turn to them during one of Lila‘s monologues and directly tell them Lila is being manipulative. Lila should not be trusted in this instance. The reviewer is indicating that they do not have the reading comprehension to understand that Lila is manipulative and not to be trusted. The game all over backwards to indicate that Lila is a liar that is not trustworthy. It’s all but spelled out for the player that Lila is manipulating William in every scene which she speaks to him. if the reviewer does not understand this, it is not the fault it reads the player has simply skimmed through the game and taken everything at face value. Because the game has told them something, it must be narratively true. when in reality, the exact opposite is true. yes, who is Lila is open to player interpretation, however, that does not mean the exact opposite of these things are true. The reviewer is being intentionally dense in their understanding of the game and not giving it the full credit deserves.

Who’s Lila deliberately lured in the player with thoughts of what might be happening. It sets you up to believe that William is a “crossdressing killer” (seriously op? Shame on you.) and that Lila is some generic supernatural entity. Then it shatters your expectations to- once again- reel you in.

Overall, you don’t have to like it. But this game has a very dedicated and loving fan base. Don’t post shit about it and get surprised pikachu face when people are irritated with your generic superficial take which is ultimately boiled down to “I don’t like it, so you’re stupid for liking it, because I’m so much smarter than you.”

mic drop.

[vanillaxoshi]

Experience in Suffering - Elementals Seperated AU

“So, you’ve found your way here. Greetings”

It looks up, or at least try to face the direction of the voice. No need to even use its scan, it could already tell who it is.

The spirit of light, the light of misfortune, origin of greed-

(Fellow sinner…)

But how? How could they wake from the Moth’s Dream? Is it because they are a spirit? The robot’s system was running in whatever ways it could to find an answer. Cross referencing from the Spirit of Dreams herself is out of the picture, as she was the one controlling the dreams. So why?

“I can see the gears turning in your head, it would be better if you used that for other things though” The spirit said, and it remembered. Now is no time to stand by, it has an order to follow.

Apprehend the spirit of light.

The gears within it began to churn and form, changing its fingers into cannons and guns, but the spirit remained there, simply watching. How irrational. If they had told it to get on with things, why aren’t they doing anything?

“You’re not going to go ahead and fire?”

No, not when it has its suspicions. Experience tells the robot that if one seems very confident, it means that one has a plan. It had only been able to grasp a small fraction of the spirit’s memory before, which amounted to a lifetime of memories.

Just what do they know?

The spirit descended, landing right in front of the robot, making it move back. What is the spirit doing? Do they have a death wish? It can pull the triggers right here and apprehend the spirit that way.

But it can’t. Something in the back of its mind tells it that won’t work. Perhaps a faulty old gear, against better judgement it once again lowers its weapon.

“Usually, I like to save my thoughts for all things logical and practical, but I find philosophy becoming increasingly prevalent. Much to my dismay, I’ve been forced to face it outright” A false sigh escaped the spirit, as fake as their demeanor.

“We’re quite similar are we?” What do they mean by that?

“I don’t know if it’s only the extent of your powers, or some cruel irony, you just had to choose my most painful years. I don’t blame the child creating the dreams, twisting events to fulfill my desires at that time. It made me realize something”. Despite not having eyes, the robot could feel the spirit’s gaze.

“Despite being awake, we are both dreaming, dreaming of a better time”

They took a step forward, it floated backwards.

“Both long to return to that kinder past, maybe with our knowledge we could have fixed everything”. No, no it doesn’t. Yes it does

“But we can’t can we? It’s impossible. The only way left is forward. Fearing more pain we tell ourselves to walk the easiest road ahead of us. Fighting back hurts so we stopped fighting completely”. It wished its ego systems weren’t active, so it can’t comprehend these thoughts, but the robot can’t shut down that program no matter how hard it tried.

“Hoping for the day we simply stop functioning”. Are they trying to understand it? To achieve some form of sympathy? If that’s it then sadly, it won’t work.

It never did before, no matter what…

“No choice but to keep our accursed existence, only look at past sins as if we’re reading things in a book-“

It happened so fast. How did its sensors not catch that? The robot could only question, as its right arm is now in the grip of the spirit of light.

“It doesn’t have to be this way though. Allow me to demonstrate how to look at one’s sins in the face”

The emotions flooding its systems right now- Is it fear? Shock? Horror? What even is going on? No events like this has happened in the past! It felt its palm being turned over- Stop it! Stop this!

Just remembering the existence of the left arm, the robot pointed it at the one in front of it. Cease this insanity now foolish spirit of light-

“Zaphkiel. Yod”

A loud bang went off, but it felt no damage. In fact, there’s damage at all. What did the spirit point at?

The silence is deafening. The android robot dare not move, fearing the touch on it’s misshapen hands might leave, that there would be a thud on the floor, and the spirit would be gone, meaning it had failed it’s mission.

It felt as if time had slowed to a stop, before it heard that voice again.

“Well… That was a certainly a trip down memory lane. I knew your power didn’t have something as silly as a 100 year limit” It sounded as if the spirit was smiling ear to ear, taking delight in its horror, a feeling it doesn’t want to experience again.

Welp, been a while since I actually wrote something. Wanted cool Solar and maybe drop some lore of mah boi Remiel. I also just discovered editing the texts

We got remiel!!

Those lines in the end are added hmmm

Reading this more thoroughly

solar being eerily poetic to Remiel and Remiel just not comprehending whatever is happening being with Solar

The android crossed out, so this period Remiel hasnt considered himself much of a person just a robot with a job to do

Trying to supress what makes him less of a robot too

And Solar is helping but in a not so pleasant way? Like help Remiel through this crisis of his despite both of them just gone through a recap of what Neira did for them

[lonesome-witching]

I Couldn't Kill You If I Tried

I'm so excited for this prompt. I had a blast writing it and I hope you guys like it. This one features a flayed Nancy. Thanks again to the anonymous prompter who left this in my asks.

You can read my previous prompts or send me some new ones.

“And I think that’s kind of special, you know?” Robin had been rambling for about ten minutes now. There was something about being close to Nancy to caused her to lose the ability to shut up. She just talked and talked and talked. And she knew why, she knew it was because Nancy made her nervous, she knew that it was because she had a crush on Nancy, but it didn’t change the fact that she constantly felt like a nuisance.

Especially now. Because Nancy wasn’t reacting. She wasn’t nodding her head with a tight-lipped smile. She wasn’t giggling at the ridiculous bullshit Robin shared. She wasn’t recognizing Robin’s existence in the slightest.

It felt like one of the many nightmares Robin had. The ones where she ran her mouth and shared too much, and Nancy found out the truth about her. They never ended well.

“Nance?” Robin hated herself for the way her voice quivered.

There was no reaction.

Robin rushed forward on clumsy feet and walked backwards, simply to be able to get a better look at Nancy. If the girl hadn’t been walking, Robin would have assumed this was all Vecna.

“Nance?” Robin asked again. But as she looked into Nancy’s eyes, she missed the blue. Instead, her eyes were black, as if those irises had been poisoned by a drop of ink. “Nance? Are you alright?”

Maybe it was stupid that she reached her hands towards the other girl. The girl that was still walking. But what else was Robin supposed to do?

The second her fingertip grazed Nancy’s arm, the girl tackled Robin to the ground. There were hands around her neck, squeezing almost as tight as the vines had back in the Upside Down.

“Nance, Nancy, please.” The words were barely audible. Nothing more than shallow breaths. “Please, let go.” Robin’s hands reached for Nancy’s wrists.

Blue returned to Nancy’s eyes as she threw herself off Robin’s body. Robin sat up, her hand stroking over her neck. She had already opened her mouth to comfort Nancy, to tell her everything would be okay, even if she didn’t understand what had just happened. But Nancy muttered a soft sorry before rushing away.

-

“Something is wrong. I think she might be… flayed,” El said, her eyes closed tightly and a drop of blood dripping out her nose.

Robin was sitting in front of her, silently tapping her finger against her knee. She had been beyond agitated when she reached Hopper’s cabin. It still was a bit of a dump despite the work they all had done on it. Robin was pretty sure Joyce was actively looking for another place to stay. Something that shouldn’t be this hard with people moving away left and right.

“She’s fighting though. She’s fighting, but she seems��� she seems tired.” El opened her eyes and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “I tried to reach for her, but she pushed me out.”

“Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Robin yelled. She jumped up and started pacing the floor. “Flayed? That means she is like Billy. We all know how that ended. I can’t— She can’t die.”

“Will was flayed at one point and we got it out of him,” Jonathan offered.

“How?” Robin stopped pacing and instead opted to stare at the boy on the couch, Nancy Wheeler’s ex-boyfriend.

“Me and Nancy burned it out of him.”

Robin thought about pushing a hot poker into Nancy’s flesh and a shiver ran down her spine. She couldn’t. She could never hurt Nancy like that.

A knock at the door prohibited Robin from saying anything else. Robin followed Jonathan’s lazy steps toward the cabin door.

“You know it’s not polite to poke into someone’s head without permission.” Nancy looked different. She was wearing tight leather pants and a black shirt. Robin hated to admit that it looked hot on her.

“Nancy?” Robin asked.

“Robin?” Nancy’s face twisted into a sweet smile. It was almost easy enough to pretend it was real.

“What are you doing here?” The words felt bitter in Robin’s mouth. A few days ago, she would have been delighted to see Nancy at her doorstep.

“I’m here for you, of course.” Nancy took a step forward. “I want to finish our little get together from earlier. Aren’t you in the mood?”

Jonathan tried to grab for Nancy’s arm, but she escaped his grasp. It was shocking that Nancy seemed to be moving with even more elegance than she usually did. It somehow made Robin feel even smaller, more inadequate, than she usually did. Because even in her current stance she portrayed a lack of elegance that she had never seen on another girl.

“I’m not sure I am in the mood,” Robin responded, a soft breath escaping her mouth without consent. She had barely registered the way she had been holding her breath.

“Oh, poor Robin. Can’t you make some time for your dear friend. I really would love to speak to you.” Nancy’s voice sounded off. Like she was playing a character.

In the back of her mind Robin heard El’s voice. I think she might be… flayed. So, maybe she was playing a character. Or rather, maybe Vecna was playing a character. Was it Vecna? Or was the Mind Flayer its own boss? Robin wasn’t sure anymore. Maybe she had missed too much of the beginning.

“Nancy.” She felt almost stupid saying that name. Because every step Nancy took toward her made her look less like Nancy.

“Robin, Robin, Robin.” Each time Nancy’s voice uttered her name, she took a step closer. “I’m really going to enjoy ripping your heart out.”

When Jonathan tried to grab Nancy’s arm again, he succeeded. His hand tight around the limb. Robin worried it was hurting Nancy. But the girl simply turned towards the boy she used to love with a smirk on her face. All it took was one push for him to go flying through the room. Robin wanted to scream. But not a single sound escaped her.

Maybe she had gotten lucky that Nancy seemed to be distracted. It would have been the perfect moment for Robin to run, as Nancy walked over to Jonathan’s limp body and El jumped into action to defend her brother. This was how Robin could get out. But she was locked into place, simply destined to watch. So, she did.

She watched as Nancy straddled Jonathan’s body. She watched as those slender fingers gripped for Jonathan’s throat. She watched as Jonathan defended himself and Nancy pushed him in the face. She watched as El threw Nancy off her brother without so much as taking one step closer.

And then Nancy laughed. She laughed as she crawled up. There was blood on her knuckles and a grin on her face and yet she still looked beautiful. Robin was well aware she shouldn’t be thinking about that now.

She continued watching and yet she didn’t see what happened. All she knew was that in the blink of an eye El lay unconscious on the floor and fear gripped at Robin’s heart.

Nancy released a long breath. “Finally, just you and me.”

Robin felt the hairs on her arm stand upright. She wanted to crawl into the corner of the room. She stayed standing where she stood. “Why do you want me?”

Nancy rolled her eyes dramatically. “I don’t, she does.”

“Alright, well what does she want from me?”

“It’s hard to say. But it’s a distraction. You, Robin, are a distraction. And I can’t have any distractions.”

One hand squeezed Robin’s throat. Just like before. She tried to find a sign on Nancy’s face, an indicator of what she was meant to do. Nancy was the one who came up with plans. Nancy was the one who took charge. And now Nancy was gone, and Robin was struggling to breathe in more ways than one.

She thought about dying. She thought about whether or not there would be a heaven and hell and where she’d end up. If the religious were right, she’d be burning for all eternity. But Robin was certain it wouldn’t hurt as much as this very moment. Nothing could ever hurt that much.

Her eyes fell to Nancy’s lips. They weren’t smiling anymore. They weren’t doing anything. Robin wasn’t sure what came over her. She pushed against Nancy’s hand to get closer, to close that damned space between them and then she connected their lips. It was shocking how nice it felt. Or maybe it wasn’t shocking at all because it was still Nancy. These were Nancy’s lips and no matter who had poisoned her brain, that fact would never change.

It took a few moments before Nancy’s lips started moving against her own, even before Robin’s lips moved. But as Nancy started kissing her, her hand slacked and fell off Robin’s neck only to get a hold of Robin’s shirt, pulling. Pulling Robin closer.

The kiss didn’t last long. Perhaps half a minute, and then Nancy pulled away. Her blue eyes were wet with unshed tears, one of her hands was gripping the fabric at Robin’s shoulder while the other dangled next to her body. Her lips were wet, and Robin vaguely realized that it was because of her own saliva.

“Robin?” It was barely audible.

“Nance, are you alright?”

“I— How do you know it’s me?” Nancy sounded like she wanted to cry and perhaps she did.

“Your eyes. You have blue eyes. But when you were flayed, they were dark and… your eyes.”

“You kissed me,” Nancy whispered. Almost as if she spoke too loudly it would cease to be true.

“I did. You kissed back.”

“I did.” Nancy’s hand let go of Robin’s shirt. She missed it.

“I would— do you— I—” Robin couldn’t seem to speak.

“Why did you kiss me?” Nancy interrupted.

Robin sighed. “I was about to die and— I guess I didn’t care about consequences because I had nothing to lose.”

“Would you like— does that mean— I think that—” Nancy stumbled over her words. “Would you like there to be consequences?”

Robin blinked a few times. “What do you mean?”

“I want to kiss you again,” Nancy answered.

“Oh, those kinds of consequences?”

Nancy nodded, eyes locked in on their target.

“I would like there to be those kinds of consequences.”

“Thank God.” Nancy leaned in, and Robin was certain God had nothing to do with this. This was all Nancy.

[ipsen]

Off the Grid

For @chertpole for the @tgpairup event! I gave them some AriEto to chew on, and you can too! Enjoy the meal :]

Eto had never been one for nostalgia.

She had always been too busy, too focused on other things to look backwards. The past was a place of pain, of longing, and of what would never be again. It was not a source of strength, but evidence of weakness. Only by looking forward could she grab an inkling of the strength she sought.

And yet, the moment her feet touched mainland Tokyo, she went here: the old shrine where it all began.

It had long since fallen into disrepair; it was on no map in the first place, and no one who knew about it bothered to tell. She remembered being attracted to it for that very reason. After all, she was similarly discarded. With her mother dead, her father had seen fit to discard the very thing that reminded him of his failure, and a tool was no longer necessary when everything was fixed. In occupying it as a fellow forgotten one, they would remember each other.

It was stupid, really; places never remembered the people that trampled upon it, but foolish girls were wont to dream.

Eto traced the branch of one of the trees, which had grown tall and strong these past thirteen years. Its trunk was thick and sturdy, and it towered above her, when before it was but a mere sapling, under threat of being crushed on a whim. Not only that, but its roots had finally broken the stone before the shrine, the spot where her world finally began to turn.

Time really did fly; being here now, she almost remembered the scene like it was yesterday. Her, missing an arm and collapsed in a heap within her kakuja. The shrine, broken from the weight. And then, suddenly—

“You’re here.”

Eto looked up and, upon seeing who it was, smirked. There was only one person who could sneak up on her like that, and as the years went by, she minded it less and less.

Seeing him here, it almost made her think the past had caught up to her, but she knew that wasn’t true. There were little differences to this new old meeting that made it so. Stark white hair instead of a nightshade blue. Her own hair, grown into a wild mane. An eye that couldn’t see anything anymore, and hers that had to squint when reading text on a book.

“Kishou Arima,” she said with a mirthless giggle. “Come to bask in your glory days?”

“No,” he said simply, as flat as ever. “I was just on my way to the 23rd.”

It was a little frustrating, to be honest, how little she could get out of him, but at the same time, that veil— or rather, that wall— was a comfort. The idea that there would always be something she could never truly understand, that there would always be something more to discover— It kept her going on some days. It meant she could keep digging, keep searching, keep fighting, and there would still be more. The Sysyphian assurance of an expected, if infinite, battle.

“And you?” Arima brought Eto out of her thoughts. “Why?”

The nostalgic question made her scoff. There were many people who asked similar things, but he was the only one she answered. “You’re asking that now? Are you truly so—”

“I am,” he interrupted. “Why?”

His gaze was unwavering, but a trick of the light made her think that there was a twinkle to them. Maybe, deep down in his empty void for a soul, he was actually amused. She chuckled at the prospect, then decided to indulge it. “I’ve just come back from Rushima, and I got a call that my editor is being ‘interrogated’.”

“By who?”

“You know who.” She didn’t have to say the name. “He had that look, you know. Almost reminded me of you.”

Arima paused. “He’s begun reading your work again. They remind him of himself, it seems.”

“So I noticed. And you? What do you think of them?”

He shrugged. “They’re wordy.”

She rolled her eyes at that. He never was one to talk at length, even about books, which he supposedly liked. Even now, where the end for them was in sight, he did not waver in this.

“Anyway,” she shrugged, “cutting through here is faster to get to where he is.”

It was a lie, just like Arima’s reason. This place was far too out of the way to justify coming here, regardless of destination; that was why Eto had chosen it in the first place. However, neither of them called the other out; they knew without saying.

“You’ve made your decision, then?” she asked, as if she even needed to.

He nodded. “The raid’s set to happen soon, and Squad 0 will be guarding Cochlea.”

“I feel safer already.” She smiled, but it faded soon enough. “It will be difficult for him.”

“He’ll succeed,” Arima said, and he almost sounded reassuring. “I’ll make him.”

“So you will.” A chuckle. “You always were one to force things.”

“Better than never letting things happen at all.”

“Hmph.”

Forcing things— that was the way of the One-Eyed King. Forcing his way to the top, clambering over the corpses, and creating a living legend that ghouls all over Tokyo despaired over. To supplement it, Eto became the Owl, his shadow, to give humans a reason to cling to him and justify their needless killing. She ate and ate and ate, taking the corpses and creating a shawl with which to conceal herself.

However, the thing about despair was that hope could just as easily be born from it. Were someone to topple that legend and create something new of it, ghouls would suddenly have a shining beacon of hope to look toward, and they would finally be willing to fight for their existence, finally be willing to live and not just survive. Not only that, but the humans who killed ghouls would finally be forced to turn inward and face the truth of the matter: they were played for fools.

But the thing about toppling such a legend was that it required a sacrifice. One unique sacrifice, and that, in and of itself, almost made it precious.

Eto stared at the coveted object as he turned on his heel and walked away. The way he still refused to really and truly look at her, even after thirteen long years, told her that there was still something he wasn’t telling her, but she couldn’t tell what.

It didn’t matter, of course; things were only ever going to end this way. The two of them were only cracks in the shell, crumbling in on themselves so that the real king could crawl out to the other side. Neither of them were strong enough on their own, nor did they have the tools or background to see it through themselves.

Still, they would try, and someone else, someone better, that made up the best parts of them, could do it when they couldn’t. They could find someone like that, surely, and they had. A miracle, not lying on cold concrete, but shining and flying through the sky. As his predecessors fell into the abyss and closed their eyes to that sparkling beacon, they would go satisfied, knowing it wasn’t all for nothing.

Despite that, though, as Eto watched Arima, she wondered if things could be different. If he could find— or rather, if he could see a way where he didn’t choose death over the world. Where he survived, and continued the fight. Would that result in a better outcome? If the Reaper turned his blade on the strings keeping him down instead of going limp in their grasp, could things change?

… No. No, they couldn’t; he had come too far down his bloody path to try and pave a new one. Much like her, a bloody cannibal who couldn’t find the bottom of her own stomach, he had piled up a tower of corpses far too high to topple it over now. They were monsters, simple as that. They, who took lives on a whim, were not worthy of seeing the new world, nor should they be allowed to fight any longer than they had to. Death was just as much a part of life as living was, and so they would entrust their legacy to their successor— their better.

Their king.

Still, if death was to be their fate, she wanted to try something out. She wanted to leave nothing unsaid, and as much as she hated to admit it, this was one of them. With a step and a call, she spoke a single word:

“Kishou.”

He paused halfway down the road. She waited for a reaction, for anything, really. She didn’t fully understand why she wanted to say what she said; she just knew she had to say it before the coming end. It felt strange saying it, but it had to be said.

Perhaps a part of her wished for him to turn around, and in doing so, change his mind. Change his path. Because if he could, so could she. In saying his name, she was positing a question: could they defy the death that would inevitably catch up to them? Was there a world where miscreants like them could exist together?

A gust of wind blew through the area, and leftover dew on the tree leaves, like blood, slipped off and hit the ground. Eto stared at the white back of his coat as she waited. Always, she waited.

It felt a little ridiculous. What exactly was she waiting for, anyway? It wasn’t like changing what she called him would cause him to turn around and— and what? Smile at her? Touch her? Kiss her?

She frowned. That sort of thing wasn’t possible for people like them. They shouldn’t— they couldn’t seek something like that. There were always bigger, more important things than trash like them.

Eto wet her lips in the silence.

She wanted him to turn around. So, so badly. She wanted him to turn around and run back to her, enthusiasm, anticipation, and joy springing him forth instead of emptiness, anger, and despair. She wanted him to gather her into his arms and hold her like she was the world, like she was the only thing that mattered. She wanted to feel his lips on hers, desperate and longing for the touch of someone who knew his greatest secret, from someone he had bared his heart to, even if only slightly.

She could be that person. She could touch him like he wanted to, and he could do the same to her. They would fit quite well together, she imagined, like pieces of a broken puzzle. Two terrible souls who, at the bottom of the barrel, had found each other. It could work, if she were more delusional and presumptuous than she was.

Fortunately, her feet did not obey her misguided and silent desire; they stayed planted, waiting as they always did. Arima also seemed to remember himself, and continued walking as though she hadn’t said anything at all. All began to fit itself back together. He walked, she watched, until she was alone again.

With a practiced sigh, she shrugged off the heartache.

[dogwittaablog]

I was never a nolpat fan (didn't hate him, he just wasn't one of the guys I was fannish about), and even I was... not devastated, but still felt something of a gut-punch when I read about what he said in these accounts. And it's not because I have some rosy view of hockey - I grew up around it, unfortunately I know all too well how toxic it can be. I try to go into fandom with the expectation that any player (including/especially the ones I admire) can do any of the myriad terrible things that are so common in this sport's culture, fall in step with the also terrible political views of the majority, would generally be a person I would not want to talk to irl. The gut-punch part for me I think comes from 1) plain old sadness/disappointment/horror at the reminder of how awful human beings can be, just, in general, because yes of course I know these people exist and see evidence of it all too often, and even if this was some rando on the internet those comments would be upsetting; and 2) that these comments hit me right in my sense of unfairness, that so much opportunity and privilege was given to someone so terrible. (Of course privilege isn't distributed based on goodness, but it's always infuriating to see shitty people get good things/no comeuppance for being shitty; sure, cosmic justice isn't a thing, but we sure wish it were.)

As many others have said, I do think it's important to understand the reality of this sport's culture and its myriad issues, and take steps back to make sure you're keeping that fiction/reality divide clear in your head, but as you pointed out, some people are new or have less experience with the realities of hockey for whatever reason, and even if they are, people will be upset by news of someone being a piece of shit because someone being a piece of shit is generally upsetting. I don't think it's productive to tear people down for simply not knowing how bad it was. Dismay and the misguided belief that someone being good-looking and talented and quiet correlates to their quality as a person aside, I have yet to see anybody digging in their heels and bending over backwards to defend him (like other anon(s) pointed out, the Kane fandom meltdown was... scarring, to say the least, and I have absolutely no patience for that, that is block on sight for me.) We're all in this fandom community together, do try to give people some grace to be upset, and maybe don't call them deranged or in need of professional help so readily.

(Which is to say, I agree with your stance!)

A little bit of a long read for some, but you broke down even more points and articulated parts I wish I could've come up with in some of my other anon responses.

I'm sure you're specifically talking about P.Kane (There is so many genuine problematic fucks in the league with the last name Kane, ironically). Though don't even get me started on that because I remember hearing stories about P.Kane through my brother even when I was 12 and seeing media gradually expose his problematic behaviours as well over time too. I am truly convinced anyone who's a fan of his new or old, just obsess over how hot he was in his early 20's and that's all they see when they think or hear of him, cause bro my man went downhill after a point, so it's like what are you even liking about this dude, cause I know it's not even about how he plays hockey LMAO... He literally has an open track record that with a 10 second search you can find everything problematic he's done the past decade, heck you even got grown men even saying fuck that dude too. His fangirls are definitely what I'd consider concerning.

[twise]

I’m kinda wondering how you’re dealing with the frustration from the situation, as well, a fellow American. Its frustrating trying to explain to my 60 year old parents that you can’t call it a war when the causalities are 1,600:26,000 and have to just be told “war is always ugly, countries have rights to defend themselves” BS or well seeing our lovely nation spew more shit on the matter and American news channels interviewing IDF soldiers. Biggest pig alive bill Maher meeting with other white men to talk about how “young people don’t know what they’re talking about”

I feel frustrated towards my nation and the efforts being put in because the disillusionment doesn’t come from like wanting to give up or anything like that, but doing everything in your power to want to help people who are suffering only to takes 4 steps backwards bc of some ailing white man. I feel so embarrassed towards Palestine because my nation is putting blood on their soil, it’s like screaming at the top of your lungs but they only fill with water. Gah sorry to rant I’m just home right now and thus have no one to talk to about it without starting an argument

first of all, im not america, im actually from north africa, living in europe! my entire family is aggresively pro-palestine, so thankfully no problems there.

it's incredibly frustrating to see other people be so ignorant and stupid! the media is trying very hard to push a narrative, but it isn't an excuse for anyone to not see that it is simply a genocide and nothing else. all the signs are there and more importantly, all the evidence of a genocide are there. i understand your emotions completely! the western media outlets are so so so biased and often just blatantly wrong in the articles they write that it makes me angry everytime i read them. living in the west means you practically have no voice. it's always freedom this democracy that but the fact that no country is doing ANYTHING despite all the demonstrations and vocal support for palestine is very telling on every government. but we should never lose hope, the difference between the attitude towards the genocide before and after this war is huge, there is progress that is being made. and we should also try our best to changte the mindset of the people around us. that is in my opinion so important! "it's like screaming at the top of your lungs but they only fill with water" is very well said. i can only imagine how it must be to actually have to live with people that don't want to see. i really wish you the best of luck!!

[kexing]

[if you find it creepy that I comment on your mental health notes like a creeper, please say so]

Hey MJ. I read your notes about making zero progress and going backwards. I don’t want to offer platitudes or condescend to you because i don’t know what your life is like and what you’re dealing with, but i wanted you to know that from this internet stranger’s perspective, you are brave and strong. Because i look at your blog, and i see someone who is kind and compassionate, who loves passionately and unapologetically, someone who is still hopeful. And to me, that takes courage, that takes emotional strength and resilience, to still see beauty in the darkness, to put yourself out there where others can see, to deliberately choose love and kindness over and over again.

Yours is the only blog i visit regularly because you are witty and talented and unhinged in the best kind of way, yes, but above all because your blog is a safe place for me. Last week i had to put down my 14-year-old cat. It was one of the hardest things i’ve ever had to do. I had a panic attack at work and had to take the rest of the day off. I got home and opened Tumblr and looked at your Dating Sim gif sets. And it just settled something deep inside me. I’m still a mess, but when i need a smile or to escape for a little while, your blog is my go-to. Think of the prettiest pink sky, the softest soft hug, that is what your blog is to me. And all you ever had to do is be your—talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique—self. 💖

[you said that you sometimes find motivation in fannish things but not so much in other things. someone i respect very much once said that to be a fan of / be obsessed with something, that is living with love. those who know love and those who don’t have very different qualities of life. i think it’s such a lovely way to describe hyperfixation: we are living with love]

i do not find it creepy, friend!! this is a public blog and i enjoy when people interact with my posts/tags. promise, it’s all fine! 🥰🥰🥰

hi! first of all, my DEEPEST condolences to you. i know how pets can be super important to us, my dog is already old and sometimes i try to prepare myself because i know sooner or later he’ll have to leave me. but i don’t think one can truly be ready for something like that. so i completely understand your struggle and even though it’s so incredibly hard, you’re dealing with it as best as you can and you’re sooo strong for that!! most days i don’t think i live on without my dog. god knows how exactly i’m going to do that akdkskdkks but we gotta live one day at a time and make the most of them. it’s all we really have!

so i’m sending you lots of hugs and positive energy!!

when you mentioned visiting my blog regularly and feeling a little better after seeing my our dating sim gifset, i legit started crying 😭😭😭 (granted, i cried a lot today but this is the first happy tears. so thank you!)

i mean, i do like sharing about my struggles sometimes because i don’t want people to think i’m just preaching toxic positivity and that i never go through tough times when that’s simply not true. i hit rock bottom every day but happiness is made of lil moments and i get to have many of those throughout the day as well, most of them here making and sharing things i love with my mutuals.

it’s just my choice to focus on the good moments instead of the bad ones and i want to be defined by my choices, not my struggles.

but i didn’t really expect to bring that kind of comfort to someone else and it really moves me that i can help you in any way, even if just for one second. losing a loved one is sooooooo hard, i’m happy that i can keep you company and that this can be a safe place for you, even if i didn’t know that. so thank you for telling me about it!!

we are living with love 🥺🥺🥺😭😭😭 that is so beautiful and so true!!!

and you know what? i can live without being loved but i simply cannot live without loving things and people but i wouldn’t have it any other way!!! while being loved is one of the most wonderful things ever, i get to have little pieces of everything that i love in me as well and that’s enough 🥰

thank you so much for reaching out!! for writing such lovely words, they really touched a very deeeeeeeeep part of my heart and i feel floored by your kindness.

takes a brave, strong and compassionate person to know what bravery, strength and compassion look like. so everything you see in me reflects exactly the type of person you are!! we’re all mirrors of our thoughts and actions!!!

i’m sure your cat had a lovely life and was very lucky to be loved by you!!!!!!!!!!

take care of yourself, angel!!!! love you ❤️💙

[darklingichor]

By the Shores of Silver Lake; by Laura Ingllas Wilder

This one turned out long, so I decided to look at it on its own.

By the Shores of Silver Lake picks up in Plum Creek, some time has passed since that Hopeful Christmas Eve were we left the Ingalls.

Baby sister Grace was born, but despite that happy occurrence, everyone is a bit sadder. The family came down with scarlet fever, and it's has left Mary blind and weakened.

Laura has become Mary's eyes, painting word pictures for her sister. This task and the fact that she has had to take over things that Mary will not be able to do, or has not recovered enough to do yet, has made her more mature, and patient.

Money is tight, with the grasshopper years not far behind them and doctor bills to be paid.

This understandably gloomy mood is interrupted when Laura's aunt Docia, Charles's sister, comes riding up to their door. She has a job offer for Pa. She and her husband are running a railroad camp in the Dakota Territory, and they need a bookkeeper and storekeeper. The pay is good and, Charles and Caroline decide that it is too good an opportunity to pass up. Mary isn't strong enough to travel, so, it is decided that Caroline and the girls will follow when she is well enough.

Off Charles goes, and a few months later the rest of the family boards a train. Their first time traveling this way.

Since I read these backwards, I also believe this is the first time the book mentions something that makes this daughter of a nurse twitch.

The communal drinking cup/dipper

It's one thing to have a cup shared between Mary and Laura, or having a family dipper for water ( you do what you can with what you have) but *one vessel * for a bunch of strangers to drink out of? I know, I know, knowledge of the transmission of sickness was different back then, but all I could think was ACK! That thing is made of TB and influenza!

Anyway, they all get to Dakota Territory where they interact with more people than they had in the first four books. Not just talking with people, but being around them. it's odd, because the reader is so use to having the Ingalls family being in open spaces, them being in a crowd seems closterphobic somehow, and is a sign of changing times.

Soon Pa comes for them and they head to the railroad camp on Silver Lake.

On the way there, the wagon is followed by a menacing man on horse back, Caroline is nervous, but then another man tall, in a red shirt and riding bareback, shows up and Pa assures them all that they will be okay, because that is Big Jerry, a good man who is half Native American. Sure enough Big Jerry keeps the potential trouble man away from the family. As with even positive potrayls of indigenous people, Big Jerry's introduction is problematic, because along with having Pa's seal of approval Big Jerry is also decribed thusly: as a gambler and poossible horse thief, a wild man, and also as moving with his horse "as if they were one animal." I get what is trying to be conveyed, Big Jerry is in sync with his horse, he knows his horse and his horse knows him, making riding effortless. But the word choice made me wince. I would have simply dropped the word "animal" but...

This passage is also difficult for me because the descriptions of landscape are great, and also, after Big Jerry rides off, there is a piece of writing that not only shows Laura's commitment to paint a beautiful world for Mary, but also how the two girls differ in personality.

"Laura let out her breath. 'Oh, Mary! The snow-white horse and the tall, brown man, with such a black head and a bright red shirt! The brown prairie all around—and they rode right into the sun as it was going down. They’ll go on in the sun around the world.'

Mary thought a moment. Then she said, 'Laura, you know he couldn’t ride into the sun. He’s just riding along on the ground like anybody.'

But Laura did not feel that she had told a lie. What she had said was true too. Somehow that moment when the beautiful, free pony and the wild man rode into the sun would last forever" (Pg 62, Kindle edition).

Mary is very practical, very concrete in her imagination. Laura on the other hand is all feeling. Neither one is better than the other but I feel like it is good character development to show how these two viewpoints clash at times and cause annoyance to both girls.

The family gets to the camp and are met by Docia's family that includes cousins, as well as a surprise for Caroline, her brother Henry.

What follows is Laura and her cousin Lena having a lot of fun, riding Ponies, singing. There is a lot of fascination around the building of the railroads and seeing it done. Here the subtext is heavy.

Pa tells an excited Laura that the camp is a small one, and, one would guess, start to describe how they work together, but Ma stops him with the slightest shake of her head. Pa gets it and tells the girls (looking right at Laura) to steer clear of the workers.

Later, after Laura continues to be fascinated by how the building works, Pa says that he will take her to see.

Ma takes Laura aside and tells her to go if she must, but not to speak with any of the men in the camp, and not to take her cousin Lena, who while a good girl, was "boisterous ".

All of this comes on the heels of Laura meeting a woman who's 13 year old daughter had just gotten married.

WhT is being said without being said is that Caroline is understandably nervous. She has four daughters in the middle of a camp of men. Mary likes to stay home, but Laura is outgoing, curious, and brought up to be nice. Where Laura goes Carrie might want to follow. And cousin Lena is even more outgoing than Laura and Docia has not "curbed her as much as she might." (Pg. 95, Kindle edition).

She's afraid that someone might take advantage of the girls, either though convincing them that they wanted to marry them, or through force. If I imagine this part of the book from Caroline's perspective, it's a nightmare.

And continues to be honestly. At one point, all the workers revolt, because they are not getting their full month's pay at one time. Since Charles is the book and storekeeper they start to go after him. This is averted, but Caroline and the girls have a tense time of it.

The winter is cozy and relaxing, not least because the family has the whole camp town to themselves.

They spend the winter, after the camp is packed up, in The Surveyor's house with a stocked pantry, Pa finds the land that he wants to put a claim on, Reverend Alden from Walnut Grove comes by, tells the Ingalls about a college for the blind in Iowa, they make friends with Mr. Boast and his new wife.

And then what happens is the equivalent of when you open the door for one person and the entire building decides to evacuate and you happen to be the doorman.

The family is settling down after a busy holiday season with house guests when a wagon full of inexperienced men pull into De Smet and is on their way to another town, Heron. Charles is worried that if they don’t let them stay they will get lost and freeze to death. So they feed and let the group stay the night.

And so begins another Nightmare for Caroline.

The people keep coming through, and eventually the Ingalls start charging for people to eat and stay. Meanwhile, the girls are pressed into kitchen duty and have to be locked in their room upstairs at night until Ma sounds the all clear. They do make a good chunk of money to go toward sending Mary to college.

Honestly, the rest of the book, save the the last few chapters, weren't all that interesting to me. Pa gets the claim, they move out if town and away from the steady stream of borders.

The most exciting thing that happens is that while planting trees on the claim, little Grace goes missing. After a frantic search, Laura finds her in a deep depression in the Prarie surrounded by violets.

Pa tells Laura that it was an old buffalo wallow. With the Buffalo mostly gone, their wallows have grown over with grass and given a good place for the flowers to grow.

The family settles into their claim shanty and they are finally home.

This book is very uneven for me. On the one hand, there is a lot to unpack. The building of the railroads calling people west simply because of the need for workers, coupled with the tantalizing promise of comparably cheap land, the challenges that presented. Ma's anxiety always just under the surface, and the new found hope for Mary that came from a visit from an old friend.

There is a tension in this book, between the family's desire to be self sufficient, interacting with the community on their terms, and the continuing settlement of the west making this a harder and harder thing to do.

This is symbolized by the dwindling population of Buffalo and Buffalo wolves. Pioneer Girl does talk a lot about this time, but it was all very similar to what was in the book.

The part that stood out to me was that Laura and cousin Lena use to sing when they milked the cows, after Lena and her family left Laura didn't feel like singing. Ma complained that she wasn't getting as much milk as usual. She then says that she pe4fored an experiment. Singing while she milked and then not singing. She found that the cows gave more milk when she sang. She says wryly that she had discovered this fifty years before an agricultural experiment station had figured it out. I enjoy it when Laura let's that kind of humor out.

All in all, there's a lot of stuff happening in this book, but it's not the best one.

[iloveabunchofgames]

#JakeReviewsItch

A Normal Lost Phone

by Dear Villagers

Genre: Adventure, Interactive Fiction, Puzzle

Pitch: Look through text messages, photos, and more on a lost phone to learn about its owner.

My expectations: I've heard of this! I don't expect to have my mind blown, but this series is fairly well regarded, right? Is "normal" meant to be ironic, like I'm about to stumble upon some horrific mystery, or is this going to be a contemplative look at the hints at the life of an ordinary individual captured on a piece of consumer electronics? I hope it's the latter.

Review:

Content warnings are important. They are an encouraging sign of social progress, and I hope we never move backwards. It is awesome that we live in an era where it is common to respect each other’s sensitivities. I hate content warnings.

I hate when a well-crafted, slowly unfolding story—a story where all the mysteries would fall into place if you just knew that one crucial piece of missing information—gives away the whole game before it’s even begun. A Normal Lost Phone presents an absorbing slice of life, written with a masterful grasp of nonlinear storytelling and keenly observed characters, but I was on the lookout for the thing before I’d clicked past the title screen.

A content warning was the right call. No one who might be hurt by said content deserves to be caught off guard. I wish I had a better solution, but I don’t. I mean, I’m being as vague as I can, but I’ve already told you there’s a thing.

A single, admirable, necessary sentence tainted my experience, but it did not ruin it. The call to empathy and understanding still resonates. This story’s strength is not in its ending but its telling. Highly recommended.

+ Invites you into the life of a stranger. Spins an absorbing, painful, small-scale yarn within the confines of a phone, where all the disconnected, seemingly disconnected puzzle pieces click into place as the context is revealed. + Dreary indie pop from a surprising number of artists. It's not enough music to cover the game's total playtime, and I never found an option to make the playlist automatically repeat, but I found my fingers tapping along to the tunes often enough that I didn't mind having to manually reset it.

– Content warning gives away major themes too soon. The seemingly incongruous details that should be intriguing fall flat if you've already predicted where the story's going. (A content warning was still the right call.) – While I like the idea of the handful of password-cracking puzzles, and even felt satisfied with some of them in execution, it's a drag when you know you've seen the answer somewhere and have to dig through dozens of messages to get what you need. – SPOILER! SPOILER! SPOILER! Are you playing a character? Are you playing as yourself? This question is left to your imagination, but whoever you are, there's no reason to believe you have any connection whatsoever to the phone's owner or any of the characters in the story. In order to progress, you must read personal message, send sensitive messages and even photographs—not as yourself, a stranger who picked up a stranger's phone, but as Sam, the phone's owner. It's incredibly invasive, and it serves no purpose except to satisfy your own curiosity. Now, if I could do the thing that I would realistically do in this situation (look for contact information and return the phone to its owner without invading anyone's privacy), we wouldn't have a game. I don't feel bad about playing a game in the way it was intended, but I do feel weird about it. It's a game about feeling empathy for a person who keeps secrets; a person who is right to keep those secrets; a person whose secrets should be respected. And the goal is simply to satisfy my own curiosity, no matter what violations that entails? Weird, weird choice.

🧡🧡🧡🧡🤍

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