#yeah its potato quality

[darlinhutchence]

So slide over here... x

[cinemaocd]

Speaking of Richard Burton:

[rainbowgod666]

Talking to him makes me understand why JK Rowling wasnt erased from author lists.

🎩 Raddest Hat Battle👒

Megumin from KonoSuba Vs Laszlo Cravensworth from What we do in the Shadows

Round 1 Side 4A

[alexanderwales]

Alright, here's my dream Stardew Valley style game, designed for my own tastes.

You come to a small town with the usual twenty to thirty people. It's in the middle of nowhere. It's a fantasy town, and no one actually farms anymore, partly because it's only questionably profitable, partly because a lot of the knowledge has been lost. Instead, everyone uses these magic doodads which are very powerful but also very limited. The tavernkeeper has a doodad that makes him a single kind of weak ale and a single variety of off-tasting wine. The clothier has basically a square mile of linen to work with, and everyone wears her drab clothes. Tools are made from a doodad that the blacksmith owns, not even made of any actual metal, just a material that wears away after a month and needs to be replaced by a new copy from the blacksmith's doodad. People get their meals from the doodads. They get their medical checkups. It's all a bit shit.

Because I'm a worldbuilder at heart, I would have this all exist in the wake of a large-scale war that depleted the town of its fighting-age population, with the doodads being a sort of government program to ensure that more of the lifeblood of the town could be drained away. And for there to be some reason for the town to continue existing, perhaps the government is harvesting some resources necessary in the creation of doodads. That's enough for a pro-doodad faction and maybe some minor drama with them, though I do like the idea that the only reason things are Like This is because there was a war and things got bad. It's not necessarily a bleak town, but there's definitely a listlessness to it, a "what's the point".

So you're a farmer, but no one is really a farmer anymore. Maybe there are a few books, but you don't learn farming from books, you learn it from practical experience; that's a lot of what this game is about. When you start, there's no one to buy seeds from, there's just a bunch of wilderness where farms once stood, now all long overgrown.

So you go out and forage, for a start, and you clear the land, and you pay attention to the plants and how they can be used, and you start in on making recipes with them, maybe with the help of your grandfather's old, partially incomplete books. You find some wild corn that's a descendant of the old times. You find some tomato seeds in an urn. You discover potatoes because you see them dug up by a wild boar, which itself was once a domesticated animal.

In my ideal game, you need to pay attention to the soil quality, to how far apart things are planted, to what crops work well together. Farming is a matter of companion planting and polycultures. You get some chickens by giving them consistent feed, and you keep them around because they're natural pest control. Your climbing beans climb the stalks of your maize. You're attracting pollinators. (From a gameplay perspective, yeah, we probably put this all into a grid, and you have crop bonuses from adjacencies, and emergent gameplay that comes from all that, some plants providing shade, others providing nitrogen fixing.) You're a scientist making observations about the plants, maybe with your incomplete book giving you confirmation on the nature of all your crops once you hit certain production goals or a perfect specimen or whatever.

Cooking is the same. There has got to be a system that I like better than just "combine tomato with bread to get tomato bread". I'm pretty sure that it's some variant of the actual process I use when cooking, which is making sure that things are properly cooked, balancing flavors against each other, adding in a little salt or acidity or umami or whatever. Time in the kitchen, in this game, is often about making meals, ensuring that if you have a fatty piece of meat you have some asparagus that's coated with lemon to go with it. (From a gameplay perspective, I think building the dish once is probably sufficient and it can be automated after that, and building the meal is the same. I don't want to play this minigame every time I'm cooking a dish, I just want to play it a single time until I have good knowledge of the best way to grill a BBQ chicken breast with a homemade sauce.)

But if we're having a little minigame here where we pay attention to how long we're cooking the kale to make sure that it's the right texture, and we're paying attention to abstractified mouthfeel and palette, then we can get something else for free: variation. See, you're not just cooking to get an S grade, you're cooking for people with different tastes. The cobbler has a sweet tooth, the librarian loves fruity things, the mayor cannot stand fish, that sort of thing. From a gameplay perspective, maybe we represent this with a radar graph with some specific favorite and least favorite individual flavors, and maybe it's visible to the player, but the important thing is that player gets feedback and have a reason to strive for both "good" and "perfection" and some of this is going to depend on the quality of the ingredients.

And this is, gradually, how the town is brought back into the fullness of life. You're not just cooking for these people, you're also selling them food, and they're making their own recipes, and all the stuff that's not food is making their businesses not suck anymore. After the first test keg of ale goes swimmingly, the tavernkeeper wants more, a lot more, and puts in an order for hops, wheat, grapes, anything he can use to make things that will improve nights at the tavern. The clothier will skeptically take in wool and spin her own yarn, and then eagerly want more, because how awesome is it to have a new textile? There's a chemist who is extremely interested in dyes and paints, and wants you to bring him all kinds of things to see what might be viable for going beyond the ~3 colors that the doodads can provide.

So by year two, if you're doing things right, you're the lynchpin of the revivalist movement. People are now moving to the town, for the first time in decades, because they hear that you're there and doing interesting things with the wilderness. Maybe there are other farmers following in your wake, but maybe it's just new characters who are specifically coming because a crate of wine was shipped to the capital city. Maybe some of them bring new techniques for you, or a handful of plants from a botanical garden, and there are new elements for the minigames, or maybe some automation for the stuff that's old hat.

I think something that's important to me is that there's a reason for the crops you plant and the things you do. I always like these games best when it feels like I'm doing something for someone, when I can look at a plot of cabbages and think "ah, those are the cabbages I owe to Leon". Where these games are at their worst, everything is entirely fungible and I've planted eight million blueberries because they have the highest ROI.

And yeah, in most of these games, there are other minigames like fishing and mining and logging and crafting, and since this is just a blog post and not a game, I definitely could massively expand an already sizeable scope.

I think for mining the player would use doodads of their own, and maybe you could make a mining minigame out of that, using the same planting tile system to instead create an automated ore harvesting machine that plumbs the depths of the earth (possibly dealing with rocks of different hardness, the water table, and other challenges along the way).

Fishing is a question of understanding the different fish species, what they eat, where they congregate, and then setting nets or lines, since I have never met a fishing minigame I really enjoyed. Again, there's some idea that the player is gaining information over time, building up a profile of these fish, noticing that some of them go nuts when it rains, understanding the spawning season, that they go to deeper water when it's cold, etc.

Crafting really depends on what you're crafting, but if you're reintroducing traditional artisan processes to this town, then people are going to need tools and machines and things. I'm not sure I know what a proper crafting game looks like. The only experience I have to draw on is wood shop, where I made wooden boxes, cutting boards, and picture frames. Since this is an engineering-lite puzzle-lite game, you could maybe do something in that vein, e.g. defining a number of steps that get you the correct thing you're trying to make, but ... eh. I love the idea of designing a chicken coop, for example, or building a trellis if I want my climbing beans to not need maize, or whatever, but I don't know how you actually implement that. There are definitely voxel-based and snap-to-grid games where you build bases, and I tend to find that fun ... but it's mostly cosmetic, for the obvious reason that doing it any other way than cosmetic requires programmatic evaluation, which is difficult and maybe unintuitive. The closest I think I've seen is ... maybe Tears of the Kingdom? Contraption building? But I don't know how you translate that to a farming game. Maybe I should ask my wife about this, because she's always doing little projects around the house (an outdoor enclosure for our cats, a 3D-printed holder for our living room keyboard, a mounting for our TV).

Making an interesting crafting system is difficult, which is why pretty much no one has done it.

And if I'm talking pie in the sky, without concern for budget or scope, I want the villagers to all have a mammoth amount of writing for them. I want petty little dramas and weird obsessions, lives that evolve with or without my input, rudimentary dialog trees that let me nudge things in different directions. This is just an unbelievable amount of work on its own, it would be crazy, but I would love having a tiny little town game where sometimes other people would fall in love. I would like to be invited to a wedding, maybe one that happened because I encouraged the chemist to hang out with the clothier, and in the course of working together on dyes, they fell in love. With twenty people in town and another ten that come in over the course of the game if you hit the right triggers, I do think this is just a matter of having a ton of time/budget. You write tons and tons of dialogue so there's not much that's repeated, you have some lines of conversation between characters that are progressed through, you have others that trigger off of events, and then you have personal relationships between NPCs that can be progressed through time or with player intervention. Give single characters a pool of love interests, have their affections depend on their routine which depends on what's changed in town ... very difficult to do without spending loads and loads of time on it though.

Anyway, that's one of my dream games. No one is ever going to make it, it would be a niche of a niche, and as scoped here, is too much for a small team to ever actually finish, let alone polish. But it's the sort of thing I'm imagining in my head when I think about playing Stardew Valley and its successors.

[patchiko]

Arkham Knight Relationship HCS !! <3

( light nsfw, mostly SFW tho!! )

literally my wife ( i made this pic idc abt creds i just wanna talk abt it)

SFW !! <3

dying on this hill when i say basically any red hood would be soo yummy with a civilian or just someone who is extremely balanced.

im a red hood needs more fucking normalcy in his life TRUTHER.

relationship starts off slow, romantic and platonic, you need to be patient with him long enough for him to get over his mental dilemmas to feel ANY-TYPE of way towards you.

more then like 6 months lets be real yall

his way of bonding is quality time. ill die on this hill, especially at the start of the relationship. Nothing huge maybe just spending a couple extra minutes around you before leaving.

next is probably gift giving, esp with early relations, probably just gonna order you food or put fifty bucks on your countertop. you dont even notice until you realize you find a fifty around the last place he was standing. expect deliveries from R.H whenever he feels bad for something.

doesn't like being around for too long, feels like he's messing up something. ruining your day by keeping you up late (he was there for fifteen minutes), ruining your mood, (there was an awkward silence for like 30 seconds.)

not a overly conscious thought process though, he feels physically he isn’t supposed to be there. for whatever subconscious thing he picked up on, a awkward silence, or hes been there 15 minutes too long or something

well sometimes he'll mentally beat himself up.

he spirals a lot, needs someone to pull him out of that.

i think when he needs to be grounded, its not just comfort its making him feel alive in the present moment. he's never gonna truly forget about his traumas but maybe for just an hour or two; running around an arcade, walking around the city. just making him feel normal, yeah you BAGGED his ass quick.

he needs someone patient, really patient, someone whos very attentive and empathetic. (but not a complete push- over def needs someone to set him in line still)

i think if you move to quickly, he'll get super snappy and ghosting you,, ong put ur hands on him too early and he's left hooking you.

yeah you're waking up and the first thing your hearing is "Its been 12 years..."

second thing you hear is "you've been in a coma for.. 12 years."

third thing you're hearing is, " we think a bus hit you...”

obviously not touchy, even when he is settling down. hes just not sure how to .. or where to .. or why he wants too.

please his mental gymnastics get so crazy, just sit down with him and put on some silly ass movie so he stops

when he’s settled he cant pry himself off you though.

a lot of his expressions can definitely be told by his body language, naturally hes tense but theres certain habits he has when he's maybe thinking too much, or fustrated/irritated.

but he does all of the same for you, comfort, love, as much as he can he tries

Very attentive, has a mental list of 'shit you do when somethings wrong' or 'shit you like.'

doesn't consciously make any of these mental list, he just knows.

"didnt they say they liked this?" He pauses "shit ill just leave it at their window."

so he's like canonically smart as shit.

you have too much work from your boss or professor? hand it over its done in less then two hours.

literally buys you groceries and pays your bills (fucking lover boy.)

arkham knight finally figuring out how to ask for a hug (hes been dead silent for 5 minutes) (link) <— insta reel

HES A CHEM/HISTORY NERD FOR SURE

NSFW !! <3

probably- A FUCKING VIRGIN !! HES A NERD !! GETS AWKARD AS SHIT. WITH RAGING COMMITMENT AND TRUST ISSUES !! (will still die4you tho)

AGAIN, not in a "my soft squishe potato always been scared of sex" way but in a ‘oh my god hes so unsocialized’ way.

yall ever see a big ass dog just..standing.. literally him (hes dissociating)

genuinely dont believe that when he was arkham/training to be, he was sexually or romantically involved with anyone. the last thing that was on his mind was actually pursuing a sexual or romantic relationship.

along with his trauma, he just wasn’t comfortable with any of that.

ghosted so many people..

couldn’t flirt for more then five minutes, just stopped feeling it or got uncomfortable .

I AM ANTI ARKHAM KNIGHT BEING A SEX GOD

not that he’s horribly awkward, but he’s noticeably a bit more quiet for first times.

ofc this man has watched porn n’ shit but hes smart enough to know thats not what its really like.

he’ll still figure it, what makes you tic, what you love, what makes you most comfortable.

kinda shitty at dirty talk, just makes him buffer.

he gets better at it tho, too damn good

gets so snarky and confident about it too uuhgrr

late relationships hes smirking and chatting your ears off cause you know hes gettin you turnt.

he has a love-hate relationship with his scars. 95% they remind him of his past, but 5% hes alright with them because they’ve shown what hes been through.

deep, deep, deep, deep, deep down, he knows hes fine as fuck. TRUST YALL.

again, super observant and attentive. really pays attention to what you enjoy.

I genuinely don’t believe hes into super hardcore/painful kinks or anything.

Sex for him is definitely a way of showing his trust and intimacy with someone!! Let him show you how much he loves you and how much he wants to make you feel good! Do the same to him !!

mmm tell him how good hes doing and hes a absolute mess!!

praise him! PRAISE HIM *im yelling from the hospital bed im strapped down on*

wouldn’t let you ride for awhile, but once he’s comfortable with it ,, he’s actually obsessed.

cant see him bottoming , just wouldn’t be comfortable with it

my brain is getting messy so im stopping here! feedback and comments would be cool if you wanna drop some!

[confessmau]

im here to shit on mystreet zane sue me

okay 1: he has little to no connection to mcd zane. if they ARE reincarnations like s6 suggests, wtf happened to him? and if yhey arent, why make him Like That? because every other character had at least SOME similarities to their mcd counterparts, but zane is just "grr im emo and jealous of my brother woe is me boo hoo" SHUT UP ‼️ YOU ARE LIKE 27. and like yeah okay he gets better in what s4 to s6 but those seasons are DOGWATER they are AWFUL. any character growth there i dont believe in because in my heart that stupid fucking lodge doesnt exist.

2: his obession with ponies. listen. listen. i literally collect meemeows irl. i get it. ehat i dont get is why it was zane of all people to be given this. "he has multiple sides to his character!!" but he literally doesnt. hes moody and broody and he likes ponies. that is ALL HE IS. WHY DO YOU LIKE HIM. "he breaks gender roles" garroth. end of story. i know thats the whole thing "zane is jealous of garroth" yeah because garroth is Better. i LIKE mean men, hello hi i am obsessed with the better zane (gene), but zane is executed poorly. he feels inconsistent and didnt he have the qhole arc of "i dont need a girlfriend im enough for myself" and then IMMEDIATELY get with nana? dont get my started on zana bro it has no chemistry. none. nada. zero. cute pair, i think they could work, but they are written So Badly that its like mixing oil and water bro it AINT WORKING.

anyways guys i dont like zane 😘 absolute dogwater of a character. he CAN be good, i WANT to like him, but he is written with so little redeeming qualities. like did we forget he broke in the guys house and stole their shit? for NO REASON? BECAUSE HIS STUPID ASS DOESNT CHECK HIS MAIL BOX?? he returned it whatever fine okay but he still broke in. i dont remember if he had the key but regardless he was Not invited, Not welcome, and he stole their fucking christmas tree.

anyways zane lovers ily you are the most stubborn mfs i have ever seen are and you know what you are based for that keep loving this potato sack of a man

~~

[meimeikyu]

if every fruit and every vegetable got in a fight, which side would win, and who would be the last man standing?

GHKSGHKSGHKS OKAY OKAY IM GONNA THINK ABOUT THIS HOLD ON i cant think of every one so we r doing 8v8 that seems like a reasonable number also this is more me killing them myself based off of my opinions. they r fighting bcs im playing with them like dolls :3 *insert a rant about vegetables being a culinary category* okay lets go THE TEAMS

FRUIT - Apple, Orange, Banana, Pear, Blueberry, Grape, Strawberry, Raspberry, Vegetables - Carrot, Onion, Cucumber, Lettuce, Potato, Garlic, Broccoli and Tomato. Tomatoes are yes, biologically fruits they grow like fruits and are fruit so why arent they in fruit? bcs there are TWO types of fruit, biological fruit and culinary fruit. vegetables only have the culinary category, no biological one. so yes tomatos are fruits, they are usually grouped in with vegetables in culinary.

OKAY LETS START

FIRST BLOODS (eliminations)

-Tomatoes | Reason; I fucking hate them -Pears | I don't really think about them much? idk if ive ever eaten one. ive also literally never heard someone go 'oh yeah my fav fruit is a pear!' so idk much about them -Cucumbers | taste like water but. wrong. i like pickles more -Grapes | okok i like them but. very inconsistent quality some very squish some nice and crunchy (the good kind)

OKAY NOW THEY GET PIT AGAINST EACH OTHER BY A RANDOM GENERATOR (im having too much fun with this can u tell)

APPLE V POTATO

two major competitors,,,,, apple is like. the fruit of all time. like i think of fruit and its an apple. but on the other hand potato has so much variety so many things you can do to it and. its so tasty. im gonna have to declare potato the winner

RASPBERRY V BROCCOLI

honestly this ones down to preference i think. and this whole thing is based on MINE so hah! both are good but broccoli texture is not fun for me and. i love raspberry so much. it wins <3

ORANGE V LETTUCE

good fruit versus water leaf. lettuce is good for salad n sandwhich but orange actually tasty by itself so orange wins

BLUEBERRY V GARLIC

garlic.

STRAWBERRY V CARROT

again two MAJOR ones,,,,, carrot is absolutely such a vegetable but i love strawberries so much,,,,,, im gonna give it to carrot for this round though because they do not mold in my fridge this fast!!!!

BANANA V ONION

mmmmm i love onion. so tasty so texture can go in so many things. and i fuckin hate bananas they can go die one of my worst sensory things i hate them so onion win :3

REMAINING COMPETITORS: Potato, Raspberry, Orange, Garlic, Carrot, Onion

uhh i need another competition hold on-

ok so i pulled up one of those treadmill videos where they see what will roll off them last- the first two to roll off will be eliminated (im assigning them the fruits n veggies)

ALRIGHT IM BACK the two killed were carrot (represented by an apple) and onion (represented by onion). may they rest in peace

alright now that we have 4 remaining im gonna. think of something else hold on

okay im making the art fight discord off topic section vote!!

DATA IS IN! we got a whole 2 votes!!! meaning our 2 finalists are Potato and Raspberry!!!! im shocked too that its not garlic,,,, it can win in my heart

THE FINALE

THE TWO GO HEAD TO HEAD IN HAND TO HAND COMBAT, FIGHTING TO THEIR DEATHS. WHO KNOWS WHO WILL MAKE IT OUT ALIVE??? MAYBE THEYLL BOTH DIE RIGHT HERE RIGHT-

WE HAVE A WINNER!!!!

🎉

CONGRATULATIONS POTATO, OUR REIGNING CHAMPION!!!!

this was vv silly thank u for sending me this

[empresskadia]

Have a Jinda

Halo: Reloaded - Foodie

In the lively hub of the UNSC’s mess hall, where the air buzzes with the chatter of marines and the clang of utensils against trays, a scene straight out of a comic book unfolds. Linda and Kelly, Spartans extraordinaire, are engaged in a feast that would have lesser mortals waving white flags in surrender. Their table, groaning under the weight of an absurd amount of food, looks like it’s hosting a banquet, not dinner for two.

Linda has temporarily traded her rifle for chopsticks, navigating through her ramen bowls with a focus that’s borderline comical. It’s as if each strand of noodle is an enemy combatant meeting its doom. Meanwhile, Kelly’s tackling her slices of stuffed-crust pizza like there’s a prize at the bottom. She’s all energy and enthusiasm, her laughter echoing off the mess hall walls as she stretches the cheese to ludicrous lengths, only to snap it off with a chomp that’s decidedly un-ladylike.

The aftermath of their culinary carnage is a sight to behold: empty milkshake glasses standing tall among the ruins of boneless chicken boxes, the cheeseburgers demolished to the point of being unrecognizable, save for a few stray bits of lettuce and the odd sesame seed looking lost and forlorn on the empty plates.

Across from this spectacle of Spartan appetite sits John, his own meal laughably modest in comparison. He’s got a solitary bowl of roast beef, looking tender and juicy, sure, but lonely on its bed of mashed potatoes. The gravy looks like it’s trying its best to make the meal seem more substantial, pooling around the meat in a valiant effort. His drink? A simple glass of milk, standing there like it’s lost.

Catching John’s slightly bewildered gaze, Kelly can’t help but tease, “John, you do realize you’re a Spartan, right? Not a finicky cat.”

Linda, with a rare break in her ramen-slurping marathon, chimes in with a grin. “Yeah, John. That’s not dinner, it’s an appetizer. What’s the main course? Air?”

John, unfazed by the ribbing, leans back, an amused smile playing on his lips. “Well, I like to think of it as strategic eating. While you two demolish the food supplies like it’s the eve of an apocalypse, I’m here, savoring the finer things. Quality over quantity, ladies.”

The banter flows as easily as the drinks in the mess hall, the kind of light-hearted teasing that comes from years of shared experiences and battles fought side by side. Linda and Kelly, undeterred by John’s jabs, dive back into their feast with a gusto that’s both admirable and slightly terrifying.

“Strategic eating, huh?” Kelly says between bites, “Watch me strategically demolish this next pizza slice.”

Linda, ever the competitor, shoots back, “Race you to the bottom of the ramen bowl?”

John just shakes his head, chuckling at the spectacle before him. The scene is absurd, a reminder of the strange normalcy they’ve carved out for themselves in a life that’s anything but.

John’s gaze is an unwavering beacon of focus, fixed solely on Linda. She, unaware of the intensity of his attention, is wholly engrossed in the artful demolition of her meal. Her movements are fluid, almost graceful, as she navigates through her feast with the precision of a seasoned warrior. It's a sight that, for John, never grows old; every little thing she does, every small gesture or fleeting expression, holds him captive.

Caught in his silent observation, he watches as she deftly twirls her utensils, her hands sure and steady. To him, there’s a kind of poetry in the way she eats, a captivating dance of strength and grace that speaks volumes of the woman she is—fierce, unapologetic, utterly mesmerizing.

Linda, sensing the weight of his stare, pauses mid-bite, her eyes flicking up to meet his. There’s a moment, charged and electric, as their gazes lock. “Hey, Chief,” Linda finally snaps, catching the tail end of his stare with a fork mid-air, paused like she's about to conduct an orchestra with a piece of grilled chicken. “You’ve got that look again. Like you’re trying to unravel the mysteries of the universe, but it’s just me stuffing my face.” she teases, her voice a playful lilt that belies the heat rising in her cheeks.

Without a word, John rises. The suddenness of his movement draws the attention of those nearby, a collective pause in the hum of conversation. In a few strides, he’s at her side, his hands gently but firmly lifting her from her seat in a bridal carry that’s as unexpected as it is smooth.

The room falls into a hushed anticipation, watching as he plants a kiss on her, passionate and deep, a public declaration that’s as bold as it is tender. It’s a moment out of time, the world around them blurring into insignificance. When he finally sets her back down, the look in his eyes speaks volumes, a silent promise that needs no words.

Returning to his seat, John picks up his utensil as if nothing out of the ordinary has happened, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

Linda, on the other hand, is left utterly flabbergasted. Her usual composure is shattered, replaced by a flustered, bewildered state that’s as rare as it is endearing. Her face, a canvas of emotion, blooms with a heat that could rival the sun, her usual quick wit momentarily lost in the whirlwind of what just happened.

For a beat, the mess hall is eerily quiet, the collective breath of the audience held in suspense. Then, as if on cue, the space erupts into a cacophony of cheers and hoots, the Spartans and marines alike showing their approval in the most boisterous way possible.

Rubbing the back of her neck, Linda finally finds her voice, her words a mix of embarrassment and admiration. “Show-off,” she manages, though the warmth in her eyes and the quirk of her lips betray the affectionate undertone of her jest.

John, with that same undiminished smile, merely shrugs, a silent acknowledgment of the truth in her words. “Only for you,” he replies, his voice low but clear, a testament to the depth of his feelings, laid bare for all to see.

Stop dude this is so cute!! Also Kelly has me cracking up. The girls like to eat 🥺

AND I THOUGHT I POSTED THIS BUT IT WAS SITING IN MY DRAFTS. I’M SO SORRY

[jimintomystery]

Foodfight! (ugh)

I voted for Dex Dogtective in a poll the other day and it reminded me that I never actually watched that shitty Foodfight! movie from 2012. So I did. This was not a good idea.

There isn't a whole lot to say about Foodfight! that hasn't already been said. The project was in development hell for so long that it defaulted on its debt, and investors took over to at least get something out the door. The most obvious issue is the bad animation, though that speaks for itself.

But here's the thing: This movie could've had Pixar-quality animation and it'd still be hot garbage. "What if mascots for popular products lived in your local store?" is a middling idea at best, and the story mishandles it every step of the way.

It would be easy to say this movie needed a lot of popular corporate mascots to really work, and the best they could do was Charlie the Tuna and the Vlasic stork. But I remember thinking the first Toy Story wouldn't work without heavy hitters like Barbie and Lego, and yet they got along fine with just Mr. Potato Head and Etch-a-Sketch. Similarly, Wreck-It Ralph succeeded with a cast of skillful pastiches of familiar video game characters, and mere cameos by the big names. In theory Foodfight! could make up a cereal mascot that reminds you of Tony the Tiger while leaving room for changes to fit the plot. But in execution we get...Dex Dogtective.

Dex is the mascot for Cinnamon Sleuth cereal, and also a detective, and also a dog, and also he dresses like Indiana Jones, and also he likes raisins, and also he runs a nightclub like Rick Blaine in Casablanca. So he has like six different gimmicks, and the cereal mascot part is easily the least important. The only reason you'd even suspect Dex is a character from a box of cereal is because he's in a movie about brand mascots. Indeed, none of the characters created for this movie look like they were designed to sell anything, least of all groceries.

The strongest concept in the movie (which isn't saying much) is that the brands are facing an invasion by the evil Brand X. This makes sense, seeing as Brand X is by definition generic, with no iconic mascot except the pejorative and mysterious implications of that term. Listen, I know this sounds dumb, but you could do something with this. In a world of where brands come to life in the form of their mascots, who or what emerges from a brand without a mascot? How would such a being differ from the likes of, say, Count Chocula? Such a character might reject some fundamental principle that the good guys hold dear.

At this juncture, a sharper "secret lives of things that aren't alive" movie could make some insightful point that ties the story together. Something about how the world needs brand mascots, I suppose. But nobody actually needs brand mascots, for pete's sake, except for the people who came up with this movie. So there's no core idea for Brand X to oppose--the good guys' world exists just to exist, so the bad guys exist just to destroy it. With that baseline laziness established, Brand X paradoxically has lots of mascots, all of whom look like Nazis for some reason.

Well, okay, technically Brand X's leader, Lady X, looks less like a Nazi and more like the Baroness from Cobra. But it figures that she doesn't quite fit in with the rest, since she created Brand X! Yeah, so at the end it's revealed she was a mascot for a poorly-marketed brand of prunes, and when she was discontinued she went to Brazil (???) for plastic surgery (???) to make her all hot. Then she somehow amassed the resources in the real world to create Brand X, complete with a human-sized android (!!!) so she could pass herself off as a real person and sell her wares to stores.

Dex is astonished by this backstory, since the mascots are like three inches tall and can't even leave the store. Lady X explains the plot hole by saying "Humans! When you look like this you can get them to do anything. Size only counts for men."

"Size only counts for men."

"Size only counts for men."

(She's talking about fucking.)

(fucking)

(-ucking -ucking -king)

Anyway, I need a nap now. Please don't watch this movie.

[avatarvyakara]

Presenting the premier Addy Brock collection from Strands of Webbing!

Starting out with diversion of a canon event because, honestly, [bleep] that noise:

52. React

"DON’T!" she screams. But Ven#m is already halfway towards the M.O.R.B.I.U.S. device, a look of determination on its electronic inFace—

Until, with a grunt, all three point one five tons of SP//dr shoves the other mech out of the way of the beam of light just in time. A nearby building fuses into a twisted mess of metal and glass, like a Vonnegut crystogram.

"What the hell was that for?" comes the angry voice of Addy Brock from Ven#m's modulator.

"Rule number one on this team: you don't get yourself killed to prove a point!" snaps Peni.

Ven#m's inFace expresses strong shock.

"…we're a team?"

"I didn't say that."

That chirpy expression looks really weird in black and neon white. It probably doesn't help that the teenager inside has a much more…smug face, and that Peni can see both of them quite clearly.

"You implied it."

"Shut up. Now help me figure out this thing's weak spot. And don’t you dare die."

(Addy survives. But Peni's not sure, after the loud squeal at the end of the fight, whether her eardrums are going to last the week.)

60. Introductions

“You’re welcome to stay longer,” she tells Gray with a little hesitation, as they sit atop the New Chrysler eating putty-cakes from a street vendor below. “You could actually come over.”

His eyes shine, but his brow wrinkles—for once he’s got the mask off. He looks like Peter Parker. He looks nineteen. (Thirty. Eighty.)

“I don’t know if your folks would be okay with that.”

“You already met Addy.”

“Well, yeah.” Admittedly, she did threaten Gray with a fate worse than death and a mech. Neither of which seemed very effective to the other Spider, who had just laughed. One Saturday she’d be very happy to forget, honestly. (But he laughed, so there was some success that day.)

“I’ve been trying to explain this to them, the whole multiverse thing,” she says, and huffs. “They still think I’m crazy. Or that I’m lying and that I’ve actually just gotten myself some shady lowlife koibito to spite them.”

Gray’s face hardens. “If that word means what I think it means, then they should know way better.”

But it softens again when he looks at her. “But a six-foot-three-inch-tall nineteen-year-old with a face like a darned sock isn’t going to be much help to you, kiddo.”

“You’re literally from another dimension—”

“And I look scary. I won’t be making it easier for you on my own, not with how you say your aunt and uncle are. Maybe you can get Miles and Gwen in on this?”

She wants to protest, but then he says: “Maybe Ham and Peter too, Make an outing of it for the whole cluster. That way the others can distract them a little.”

“...I guess that makes sense.” He’s her best human friend, and she wanted to recognize that. But even so...maybe that would be better. She was able to pass off Miguel as a Mercurial pen-pal with a cosplay addiction (most Earthers will believe anything about the decadent and obscenely wealthy and more-than-slightly inhuman Spacers), but the rest are going to be harder—her black-and-white and cartoon counterparts especially. Telling the whole story, with proof, becomes easier if there are kids her age to help soften the blow. (Plus, Peter B couldn’t look threatening if he tried.)

Still.

“You’re not scary, though,” Peni insists. “Not to me.” She grins. “You’re too much of a dork for that.”

He squeezes her shoulder, and gives her a smile no less warm for being in monochrome. “Whereas you frighten the life out of me, doll.”

She hugs him. This time around, he doesn’t resist.

“...seriously, though, what’s in that crispy paste stuff?”

“Sun-fried seaweed, Mercury-style.”

“...it’s not too bad. Tastes kinda like latkes. Like a latke dough, but you can eat it.”

“It’s pretty good. My favourite’s yungay potato.”

“Ah, a lady of quality.”

She laughs at that.

80. Comrade

Adelaide Brock is fourteen when she makes her first two real friends. People who actually get it. Who understand the thrill of the ride, and the joy of the psychic link.

They have their differences, of course. Peni’s more of a drill sergeant in the field, always efficient, applying incredible precision. Addy’s always been more of a performer at heart, and her spider (her spider), Weying, seems to sympathize. Ven#m likes the spotlight, isn’t really up to just fighting and heading home, prefers to mug for the crowds and crow over a few muggers. (And occasionally fantasizes about trapping and eating the monsters they defeat like the oversized prey they are, but that’s spiders for you.) Maybe it’s showboating a little, but hey, if you have a ship, why not display it?

But at the end of the day...Peni saved her life. Soon after, she saved Peni’s. They’re a team. They’re actually talking. And she and Weying have been working together for ages now, and New York loves them. Life is good.

Now, if only Peni would actually let her know who she keeps talking to on that weird 2D group chat of hers...

170. Hardcore

“...until ultimate termination.”

Peni blinks.

“Are you sure we’re the same person?”

Other Peni rolls her eyes. “Yes, I’m sure. Even if your SP//dr is a bit...”

“A bit what?”

“You know...impractical? For fighting bad guys?”

Peni frowns. “Mostly kaiju, actually.”

“You sit in a glass cockpit and punch giant monsters and somehow you’ve survived as SP//dr for...how long now?”

“Three years. How about you?”

“Two. ...oh, no, there is no way you’re older than me. You look twelve!”

“Uh...I’m sixteen.”

“Ah, Peni! I see you’ve met Peni?” says Ham, striding through the workshop with a sandwich and out the other side. “Have fun!”

“I guess,” mutters Other Peni.

“...Dad’s death still bothering you?”

“What? No, that was ages ago.” Other Peni sighs, which helps Peni feel less like yelling at her dismissive tone (which would be counterproductive). “Mostly it’s just the job. It...kinda grinds down on you after a while.”

“...I guess I can relate to that.”

Other Peni coughs. “So...you like listening to music while you work?”

Peni lights up. “Do I? Come on, let’s get the sound started. Have you heard anything by Karam Heiwa?”

For the first time in the entire conversation, Other Peni smiles.

“I can see you’ve got good taste.”

“It’s probably a Peni Parker thing,” says Peni, conversationally. “Gray’s stuck on swing, Peter B’s more Silver Age Electric, and Gwen’s into punk, but you just can’t beat KH for tunes to work with.”

Other Peni cautiously goes through the playlist on the holographic display, as though she’s worried about breaking something. Then her faces lights up.

“Hey, is this ‘Nuke-ular’? I haven’t heard this album in ages!”

...of course Other Peni would choose the most depressing song in the mix. Still, baby steps.

183. Talk

The first time Addy stops by the workshop when Other Peni is there, Other Peni is furious at Peni for suggesting she come and say hi. Genuinely furious.

The second time—after some prompting and a long discussion where Other Peni Parker cries for the first time Peni remembers—Other Peni is there to greet her.

“Uhhhh...Peni? Is that you? You look tired. And...older.”

“...hey, Addy. It’s me. This is gonna sound weird, but...I’m from another dimension and I just...kind of wanted to see you again.”

She sounds so tender.

Addy blinks.

“It’s okay,” says Peni, coming around to the front of the space. “She’s...a friend. Sort of. But you have to keep this a secret. This is beyond mech stuff, it’s insanely important. Swear?”

Addy nods, wide-eyed.

“Good! You two have fun!”

“Peni, you weren’t supposed to—” Other Peni growls, but Peni’s already wheeling herself out.

It should help. She knows it would help her. And she’s about 90% certain Addy will forgive her, and has fifteen different prospective options to hasten that process.

...figures that when she steps back in, Addy and Other Peni give her rather evil grins.

“You know,” says Other Peni casually, “the nice thing about being the same person? It means you’re already well aware of a fair few...embarrassing incidents.”

“...you didn’t.”

“Me? No, no. We just traded life stories. If they match up, it’s just a coincidence, right?”

Addy cackles.

“I’ve created a monster.”

“Aw, lighten up, Choking Hazard.”

“Adelaide Brock, you swore not to tell a living soul—”

“Actually I just said I’d only talk about it with you. And, well...”

Other Peni laughs.

(The sacrifices one makes for the good of one’s fellow Spiders...)

238. Rudolph

“If you think I’m missing this, Peni Parker, you’ve got another thing coming.”

“Addy...I don’t know. I mean, yes, you got bitten, but...I’ve never met another Addy Brock out there. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Addy tosses her head back and offers her friend an easy grin. “Then I won’t get hurt. Simple as that. Trust me, Peni. I know when to pull back now.”

Peni sighs. “Fine. But be careful, right? Follow my lead.”

The red SP//dr enters the hole in space just before the black Ven#m does, and leads the way.

And on the other side—

“Hey!” calls Miles happily, coming over to meet them. “Glad you could make it!”

“...hi,” says Addy, blushing quite pinkly all of a sudden.

Peni rolls her eyes. “Excuse my friend. Addy, this is Miles Morales, Spider-Man. Miles, my best friend and coworker Addy Brock and her Spider Weying, alias Ven#m.”

“...how are you pronouncing that?” asks Ham. “Hey, I thought me and Mister Egg Cream over there were your best friends.”

Gray looks like he’s trying not to grin. Peni can feel a blush coming on herself. “I’ve got four best friends. Addy’s the only one you guys haven’t met yet.”

“Well, welcome to the team,” says Miles easily. “And Happy Hanukkah!”

(“Should I tell him you’re a Zuhariyya Muslim?”

“Nah, it’s okay.”)

297. Tea

“So, that’s one Earl Grey for Billy, one Boba for Peni, two Green for Hida and Other Peni, one Black for Cindy, one Lemon Grass for Roshni, and one Masala Chai for me,” says Pavitr, taking notes.

“I feel like we’re inviting stereotypes here,” says Roshni.

“I don’t reckon so,” Billy replies, preemptively reaching for the sugar.

“For Peter...coffee. And a reminder of what civilization looks like when you don’t commit blasphemy.”

Pauker glares. “I told you, that was in Boston!”

“And a Peppermint for Addy.”

On her shoulder, Weying the spider bounces excitedly.

“...no, Addy.” That’s from both Peni Parkers at the same time, exasperated in different ways.

“Aw, man...”

322. Mitosis

“Don’t count on it working,” says Other Peni. “And be careful.”

Peter cracks his knuckles.

“Just gotta give it the ol’ college try.”

And he walks up to the bulky form of Ven#m. Not as nice-looking as Addy’s, honestly. And a cannibal at that. Joke about it though he may, he doesn’t much like cannibalism.

Peter doesn’t entirely know what he’s doing, but there’s always such a thing as giving it the ol’ college try.

(Granted, he never went to college.)

—what are you?—

“Me? I’m just a good buddy here to annoy you into spitting out my friend’s loved ones.”

The capsule opens, revealing a tangled mess of cable-like tentacles that snake towards him.

—is Peni so desperate that she’s sending in cartoons to aid in her futile endeavours?—

—hahahaa—

—don’t make me laugh, little piggy—

—we are Ven#m—

—what are you going to do?—

—“huff and puff and blow my house down”?—

Peter pulls out the giant horn his niece Dahlia sent back from a trip to Switzerland.

“Something like that, yeah.”

362. Celebrity

Do I get one? I get one! Wheeee! ...um. Sorry. Anyway.

My name is Addy Brock. I was bitten by a radioactive spider, and for five years I’ve been one third of the one and only Ven#m. I’m from New York in the year 3150, I have a psychic link with a spider who lives inside the robot I tried to take for a joyride when I was fourteen, and my best friends in the world are Peni Parker and Weying, the aforementioned radioactive spider.

Pretty sure you know the rest. Saved the city, mugged for the camera, saved the city again and again, had a hundredth-of-life crisis during which I, uh...we don’t really talk about that. (I’m banned from Greater Peru until I’m eighty-five, on a completely unrelated note.) But I got back up. Also, I met an alternate version of my best friend who lost her me and really needed someone to keep her laughing. And that’s me. Addy Brock, clown superhero extraordinaire. (Peter Parker? Never heard of him.) Peni may be the OG, but I’m the sequel that nobody knew they wanted but now can’t get enough of. I’ve even been to Mars on business—you know how difficult it is for an Earther to get direct to Mars, let alone for a job? Usually they hire local, or take on seasonal workers from the ecoships. This is big stuff.

...but at the end of the day, I love being Ven#m. And...I like having friends who get it. I got randomly assigned a last name matching my closest genetic relatives, but Peni and her Aunt May and Uncle Ben are the first real family I’ve ever actually had. So guess what? Ven#m is here to stay, with the Parkers, in the Republic of New York, on Earth.

As long as they’ll have me.

(“Well, then, looks like even reincarnation won’t be enough to let you get away, Addy.”

"And when they get sick of you, me and my aunt and uncle and Other Addy will take over."

“Aw, you guys. Peni Parkers? Ultimate upgrade in superhero mettle. Besides yours truly, of course.”

”How modest.”)

[luv-assangiebatch]

Mendax Undercover - Chapter 4: Let Your Ego Flowcell

Kat yawned as she wandered over to the coffee and water station.  Her new friends she met at the gala a couple weeks ago joined her and Juniper for karaoke the night before and ended up having so much fun that they stayed out later than originally planned.  As she yawned again and breathed in the scent of freshly brewed coffee, she began to wonder if she could handle the caffeine just this once.  The individual servings of decaf just would not get it done for her this time, and the aroma of the higher quality crystals drew her in more so than usual.  Maybe she could use the extra boost to get her through the day.  She turned around and began to pull a cup out of the stack, when—

“Good morning, Kitty-Kat—we meet again…” she heard a familiar smooth Australian voice purr.

“Oh, hi Julian…!” she returned, taken by surprise and in effect, the cup she pulled from the stack flipped right out of her hands.  She tried to catch it with the other hand but it stubbornly bounced a couple times off of her palm like some sort of hot potato.  After several failed attempts to regain her poise and control of this cup, it finally made its way into Julian’s airspace.  He reached out and caught it easily, rim facing up.  He peeked out from behind it with a wide, charmed grin on his face and zircon eyes shining brightly.

“Looking for this…?” he quipped, trying his best to restrain his amusement.

Kat blushed considerably and tried to laugh it off. “Aha, yes…thank you…”  She retrieved the cup from his hand and turned back toward the counter. “The universe never fails to miss an opportunity to embarrass me…”

Julian took a few steps further into the alcove and stood behind Kat’s shoulder. He shrugged as he twisted his mouth a bit and tucked his errant strands behind his right ear. 

“Embarrass, hm..?”  He then watched as she reached for the carafe of fresh brew.  He bit his lip for a second and raised his eyebrows before continuing.  “No decaf today?”

Kat breathed out a slight laugh, still turned away from him as she poured her coffee and then reached for the cream and sugar.  She took this time to try and flush out her blushing. 

“Ah, yeah well…it just smelled so damn good I couldn’t resist it today.  I’m sure I’ll pay for it later…”

“Oh?”  Julian was intrigued.

“Yeah, the anxiety likes to hit me later in the evening… for some reason…” she continued, but then trailed off a bit once she turned around and met his gaze again.  Her body was buzzing and her heart was racing without even ingesting a taste of the coffee yet.  Julian blinked rapidly a few times as she looked up at him.  She was about to take a sip from her cup when she suddenly stopped herself.

“Oh!  I’m sorry…” she started.  “Would you like a cup?  I can pour it for you…?”

“Uhh… yeah, sure— thanks.”

Kat turned back around, again trying to calm her blushing.  She set her coffee down, then reached for another cup and pumped from the carafe.

Julian took a few steps backwards and leaned against the counter.  He crossed his arms as he stood somewhat at an angle. 

“Hey, nice contamination catch on that flowcell yesterday…I saw they had to re-extract…”

Kat’s heart fell into her stomach.  He saw that?  Of course he did…he’s on all the emails…but he knew it was me?  Now she was blushing but with gratitude rather than nervousness. 

“Oh…yeah, thank you…!”  She turned around to face him and was about to ask him if he wanted any cream or sugar in his coffee, when she saw his stance tense up a bit as he looked at his watch.

“Oh shit, what time is it…?”

“Oh, almost 10--?”

“Shit, I gotta run to a meeting—can you drop some cream and sugar in there and bring it to my office, please?”

“O-okay… sure…?”  Kat stammered as Julian quickly darted away.

She just guessed how much cream and sugar to put in his coffee.  She basically dressed it like she did her own.  She quite liked both in her coffee at times, but not enough to overpower the coffee taste.  It had to be a good blend.

Kat paused after she stirred Julian’s cup and then she looked at her own, realizing she hadn’t had a sip yet.  It had time to cool off, so she was able to take a couple large swigs off of it.  She really did enjoy coffee and would chug it in seconds if it weren’t for the heat.  She then grabbed the full cup she made up for Julian and headed toward his office.

For a moment, Juniper had looked up from their computer screen and saw their good friend headed toward the VP’s office with two cups of coffee in her hands.  They raised an eyebrow and cracked a small smile before focusing back on their work.

Kat lightly knocked on Julian’s door and as he was seated at his desk, he motioned for her to enter from behind his computer monitors.  She quietly walked in, letting the door close behind her before approaching his desk and softly setting the coffee down.  She shyly looked away and started to make her way back toward the door, careful to not disturb Julian in his meeting.

“Thank you, Kitty…” he said softly, then peered out from behind one of the computer monitors as she started to walk away.

“Hey, wait—” he called lightly.

Kat stopped and turned back toward him.

“Turns out my meeting was cancelled at the last minute…”

Kat smiled.  “Ohhh, gotta love it when that happens!”

Julian smirked and nodded his head up and down.  He then stood up and walked to the front of his desk and leaned against one corner in a half sitting- half standing position.

“H-how is your coffee…?” Kat asked.  She knew he hadn’t had a chance to sip it yet, but she was trying to break the awkward silence.

He exhaled for a moment as his lips fashioned an inquisitive pout and he looked toward his cup.  He stuck his fingertip in it and twirled it around a bit as if it were a swizzle stick.  Then he quickly licked the warm liquid off of his fingertip. 

“Mm!” he hummed sharply, then reached for the cup.

Kat tilted her head in wonderment for a second.  So strange…and yet at the same time, still so fucking magnetic…

“It’s good… perfect actually…you have good taste, Kitty-Kat.” 

Kat’s eyes fluttered as she was on the other side of yet another one of his wide, enigmatic grins.  Julian swooped his hair behind his ear again and readjusted his stance to face toward her.  He then motioned toward a chair in front of his desk.  “Please…would you like to sit?”

Kat blinked a few times, a bit surprised.  “Oh!  Okay, sure…”  She then walked toward the chair and sat down in front of him.  She still felt nervous, anxious, and her heart was still pounding in her chest, but for the first time in his presence she began to feel something else—a slight calmness. 

“Tell me about yourself-- How long have you been here at Santé?  What made you leave the United States for Switzerland…?”

Kat blushed lightly—Julian was taking an interest in her, but she had no idea why.  Honestly, neither did he—but he was interested.  No, she was not elusive and mysterious like he was, far from it—but what drew him into her was her transparency.  He was not used to encountering other people who were so honest that they couldn’t lie to save their life no matter how hard they tried.  This was like a breath of fresh air for him.

Kat answered his questions, gave him a brief summary of her career trajectory, her studies, and how she ended up in Basel.  She told him how she studied languages such as French and Russian before she finally settled in pathology and precision medicine.  She then began to tell him about the research she began in her graduate studies, and how she would like to continue it somehow.

“Did you not want to pursue a PhD?” Julian asked, sipping his coffee.

“I haven’t exactly ruled it out…but after I finished my master’s I ended up getting this job and moving here, and I dunno I’ve just been enjoying it.  I feel pretty content, like I’m where I should be…”

“What do you like about living here in Basel?”

Kat shrugged a little. “Oh, so many things.  I don’t even mind the winter as much here as I did over there…maybe because I don’t have to drive in it.  I love that you can be in a different country in a matter of minutes…plus Paris is only a three hour train ride away…”

“Ah yes, Paris…of course,”  Julian smiled.

“Oh—and I don’t know if you’re into this sort of thing—but there is this cool pub just a couple blocks from here that plays a lot of great music from the 80s and 90s…”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah!  Do you like to dance or anything like that?”  Kat could feel herself blushing a little bit but she was enjoying the conversation.  She felt oddly comfortable with him.  She wasn’t sure why he was engaging in this conversation with her though.  Perhaps he was just looking to take a break and chat with someone.  He was new in town, after all.

Julian smiled and nodded for a moment, then his mischievous zircon eyes peered out from his errant strands that always found their way back in front of his face no matter how often he swiped them back.

“I’ve found my way onto a dance floor or two before….usually after a number of, um, strong beverages…” Julian chuckled.

Kat giggled. “Ohhh!  Yeah, the drinks at this place are good too.  There are a lot of great places around here for that.”

They both laughed playfully, then Julian said softly, “Maybe you can show me sometime…”

Kat’s heart almost stopped right in her chest.  Was he asking her out?  It seemed he was leaving the door open to go in that direction at least.  She batted her eyelashes shyly, trying to hide yet another blush event.  “Yeah, sure!  Anytime…I know it can be a little strange and lonely moving to a new country at first… I mean, you came here from Australia, right..?”

Julian shifted his weight as he continued to lean against his desk.  “Yes, I grew up in Australia, but my work has taken me all over for several years now…”

“Oh, of course…”  Kat figured he meant his work as a scientist, which was only half of the story.  Julian was careful with his words—he didn’t want to reveal too much of his past but he also did not want to lie to her.

“What do you think of Basel so far?”

Julian shrugged.  “Yeah, it’s nice…quiet.  Keeps me out of trouble…” He flashed another charming grin.  “But back to your research…how would you like to continue it?”

“Well, I felt like I was maybe onto developing a predictive gene signature for urothelial carcinoma patients and immune checkpoint inhibition therapy.  Maybe something similar like what is out there for CRC patients and FOLFOX/FOLFIRI regimens…”

“Mm-hmm…so you’d like to create an algorithm to predict survival benefit…and test it against large datasets, I imagine?”

“Yes, exactly!  But I will be honest with you—my graduate studies only touched very briefly on data science, and it was a difficult class for me.  I don’t really understand how to tweak the parameters to improve accuracy and precision of the pipeline programs and things like that…”

“What programming language did you use in your studies?”

“Python.”

Julian nodded.  “That’s pretty common now, and one of the easier ones to use.  Lucky for you, I know it well.”  He flashed another grin that was mixed both with charm and arrogance.  He never missed an opportunity to gloat about his intellect and talent.

Kat smiled back lightly, still in awe that any of this conversation was happening.  Then it got even better.

“Look, they are bugging me to work on some research.  This sounds intriguing.  How would you like to work on this with me?”

Kat went completely numb.  She wondered if she just hallucinated.  Did Julian just ask her to work on a project with him?!  Was she dreaming?  Then she remembered to breathe before she passed out.

“Oh—really?  I mean—yes!  Yes, of course, absolutely!”  she finally responded enthusiastically, internally kicking herself for sounding so desperate.  This was exciting for her though—not only was she able to continue her research, but she was going to do it alongside this platinum fox of a man who rearranged the structure of her molecules any time she was near him.

Julian grinned widely and nodded.  “Excellent.  Set up a meeting sometime next week and we’ll get started.  My calendar is updated.”  He then pushed off of the desk to stand upright, and then he finished the last sips of his coffee.  Following his cue, Kat stood up as well.

“Okay, will do.  Thank you so much, Julian…I just—I really appreciate this.”

“Well, we can help each other out…” he walked back toward the chair at his desk and sat down.  “But for now I’ll let you get back to work.”

Kat bowed her head.  “Yes, of course…okay, thanks!”  She turned around and headed toward his office door, but stopped when Julian called to her one last time.

“Oh and Kitty-Kat..?”

She blushed any time he called her that.  “Yes?”

“Thanks for the coffee,” he said, then followed it up with a sort of “chef’s kiss” gesture and a playful yet magnetic grin.

Kat giggled a bit before returning, “You’re welcome, anytime…”  She then turned back around and made her way out of his office door.

Julian watched her from behind his monitors as she exited the office.  He touched his fingertips to his mouth for a moment as he continued to gaze in that direction, even after she was gone.  He was inexplicably drawn to her, but he had to be careful.  He couldn’t risk blowing his cover.  He couldn’t afford to get too close to anyone—the cost was too high if it didn’t work out.  He could lose everything and be put back in the line of danger again.  The last time he fully trusted someone and partnered with them to manage his high profile website, that person ended up betraying him by sabotaging the website which rendered it useless until Julian could rebuild it again.  For Julian this was the ultimate betrayal, and a mistake he swore to never make again.

Kat’s knees almost buckled under her after she left Julian’s office—but once she regained her composure she scurried back to her desk and had to tell Juniper immediately.  Juniper then accessed the inter-office messenger program, where the 5 friends had a private chat set up.

“Hey everyone—ready for lunch soon?  Let’s meet at Astrid’s desk and figure out where to go from there—Kat has a story for us!”  Juniper typed.

The three ladies responded immediately, excited to hear the tale to come.

[bradshawed]

princess 👑 / common tumble games! cym, fmk, kmk, would you rather, etc. or just talk to me.

cym as fruits or vegetables hehe

join the party!

i feel like i’ve totally forgotten about some major fruits and veggies and had a total mind blank so sorry if some of these sound really boring and sorry again if we’re mutuals and i completely forgot about you

you as green grapes/cucumbers. you just have that refreshing energy but also really comforting and cucumber slices on my eyes on self care nights are one of my favourite things to do

@waklman as mangoes. ur literally the coolest person i know. and the summer vibes you give off especially with your obx summers and the tsitp tgm au you’re planning on writing…it’s just perfectly you. it’s a seasonal fruit which nearly everyone loves, sort of like you in that you’re such a lovely person to be around and i’m so grateful that i’ve had the pleasure of getting to know you

@sematarygirls as a custard apple. i’ll admit, i spent the longest time trying to figure out what fit you and i still don’t think it’s perfect but once i remembered they exist i sort of went ahhh yeah. they’re just really lovely to eat and you don’t get them a lot so they’re really rare to find just like you in that it’s incredibly rare to find someone as lovely and talented as you. if not that, i’d say blackberries bc it makes sense aesthetically

@amoraffairs as lychees. i can’t explain it but it just makes sense to me

@wolvisms as cherries/red peppers. red’s ur colour, i feel like i don’t need to expand on that anymore but you just feel like the colour red and the warmth and love that the colour has to offer as well as its other qualities. you give me downtown girl with slight cottagecore and i feel like cherries completely represent that and you. for the peppers, i do love them but i also realised the server lack of veggies so :)

@goodoldfashionedluvergirl as blueberries. honestly one of my favourite fruits and for some reason i just associate the colour blue with you. blueberries feel very forestry for some reason too and you have that sort of vibe like a retro but also dancing in the woods sort of thing idk if that makes sense but you feel like blueberries to me

@bcyhoods as strawberries. self explanatory and again, it just makes sense. ur so sweet and lovely and i know they aren’t pink but they just remind me of you

+ honourable mentions to jackfruit, sweet potato, asparagus, and more. ily all xx

[hijinxthinks]

having the most off the wall 1am thoughts about blending cultures with changbin. it absolutely canon that he's going to help you take your braids out while songs like "if you wanna" by june marieezy play in the background because you've now put him on to neosoul music and the like. the afternoon sunlight pours in through the window while he takes a rat toothed comb and works through it. in fact, changbin is one of the best people to take out your hair. he loves it so much that he takes his time unraveling your aged twists that you find gross, expired, and in need of a deep wash day. he likes to see as little shed as possible, no matter how many times you tell him a normal amount of shed happens when taking down a style like braids.

"be patient." he'll tell you, taking more of the nearby oil and squeezing it on to help him gently comb out a small knot. "wow," he'll say at the end of it all, looking at the way your natural unbraided afro sits around your face, "its sooo big." he'll add, while gently touching the sides of it as if its a fragile cloud.

changbin hopes you two have children together, and despite how much you complain about your hair, he hopes they have something similar to yours. he feels like you can do so much more with a hair texture like yours than with one like his. he likes his mane, but he loves yours. changbin enjoys going through your records and finding new gems. you introduced him to erykah badu. he's welcome, by the way. and he'll turn it into a routine for you on sunday nights. you'll hear the brief static, the touch of the needle on vinyl and then erykah's voice while you're cooking up a sunday dinner just because the weather is getting cooler and you're in the mood to do it. he will always out-knowledge you in old-school hiphop in ways you will never understand. its his passion. he doesn't just rap, he's completely engrossed in the culture surrounding it, and pays a hefty amount of respect and appreciation to your culture for cultivating it to begin with. its cute, how he pays attention to what you like. he even lights your favorite incense.

changbin isn't a stranger to good food, with his cultural background, but when he gets a taste of your collard greens and hammocks, cornbread, baked turkey legs with homemade gravy, fall off the bone ribs, potato salad, linguini and devilled eggs? he's gotten himself in the mix now and won't be able to find his way out, going into the kitchen for seconds, a compliment to the chef--you.

can't say you've ever had a partner who has dropped a plop of kimchi on collards and stuffed it in his face with a pair of chopsticks until you dated changbin. and after he showers, a towel around his waist, the mirror foggy in the bathroom, he'll notice you've gotten a new hair product, and he'll pick it up, sit down on the closed toilet seat, and read it, before he'll open the door and yell, "babe?"

“yeah?" "can i use your rosemary oil spray in my hair?" you'll laugh, "yeah its really good for growth, but not too much." changbin's hair is incredibly thick, and naturally wavy, but if he puts too much of your product in, it'll weigh his locks down, so he always has to ask if its okay first. the first time you allowed him to use your honey leave-in conditioner, he was so greasy, it stained his favorite shirt!

speaking of showers, once changbin learned what you were getting up to in the bathroom for so long afterwards; completely lotioning your body with high quality butters, he's fake offended by the intel. how dare you struggle to rub lotion onto your back when your very willing partner is there at your disposal?

and of course changbin gets carried away when he's rubbing you down with your smellgoods. when he works it under the cuff of your cheeks, his thumbs graze your cunt, and he can feel the heat emanating from it. he's definitely going to slide either his fingers or his tongue up next, giving you a reason to have to shower all over again.

your family at the labor day cookouts love him. you'll try to coax your teenage nephews to stop horseplaying when things are getting too rough in the pool, bouncing from foot to foot in the chest height water, changbin's arms around your waist. "yo, come on stop it!" you'll splash, but they're teenage boys, they act like they don't hear you. oh but they'll hear changbin.

"yah!" he starts off, brow furrowed, rattling off in korean for the first four words until he stumbles and stutters over his speech, switching back to english, "you don't hear your aunt?"

"sorry unc."

now you have their attention. "i'm not tryna be a wet blanket but if yall are gonna do that, don't do it in the deep, someone can drown."

and later in the night when you're with your cousins, drinking wine, changbin is outside, under the string lights and next to the tiki torch, seated in those cookout white plastic chairs, brawny arms crossed over his chest as he smiles, laughing at the parts of the story he catches between your uncles that rope him in on the jokes every so often.

they liked changbin the moment he joined them for a game of pool.

[frodo-with-glasses]

Discord Highlights: Elevators in Minas Tirith

Writing Valkyrie (in response to the idea of Theodoc with wooden feet):

I've kinda been working on a (semi) SI fic about the wheelchair accessability of Middle Earth... ...I have the first chapter posted, but I need to plan it out more...

Me:

WHERE

Writing Valkyrie:

Me:

oh my word you got isekai’d into Middle Earth

InvisibleWashboard:

"Throw Me Into Middle Earth and Call me a Potato" 😂

Me:

Obviously Mordor is a no-go, but I think Rohan would be a pain too. Tall grass around your wheel axels. D-X

Writing Valkyrie:

Also, bumpy. I can feel every micro-bump under my behind. A little dip is a hill, and so on and so forth. If I have to go down a slope, I hate it.

Me:

Which would be worse: Hobbiton, with its dirt paths over hills, or Minas Tirith, paved but with multiple levels??

Writing Valkyrie:

Dirt roads are awful due to the bumpiness in general, I'd get a booty massage the whole trip. Minas Tirith roads, while paved, would most likely have steeper inclines, and so that would be an ordeal. Depending on how well the road is paved, it could still be quite bumpy.

Me:

Yeah I imagined both would have their pros and cons. I imagine the gaps between the flagstones would be a pain. 😬

meg is me:

Minas Tirith with elevators Get some

Writing Valkyrie:

Excuse me, I need to write a letter to the High King.

Me:

I mean by the end of the book the city has a gate made of mithril and steel so why the heck NOT elevators??

Windmill to the Stars:

Gimli and Legolas were totally planning to help Aragorn improve Minas Tirith!!

InvisibleWashboard:

Gimli could help make that happen, I think.

Kasey Gondor:

gimli invents elevators

meg is me:

One thing in rings of power khazad-dum that was neat was that they did have an elevator

Windmill to the Stars:

At least like pulley lifts

Me:

An elevator is one of the simplest machines there is!! A pulley with a large box on it! They could TOTALLY figure that out!

meg is me:

slams fist on table CANON

Windmill to the Stars:

I've done a lot of imagining Frodo wandering around Minas Tirith still getting his strength back after Mordor

Kasey Gondor:

this is only vaguely related to the subject at hand but did you know that the word "escalate" is a back-formation from "escalator"

Me:

I love that we mention elevators in Middle Earth and we get “several people are typing” 🤣🤣

meg is me:

Accommodation is NECESSARY

Writing Valkyrie:

I'd hope that they'd also have better regulations than the regulations we have here. Don't get me started on how they need improvement..

meg is me:

They do because we are making this up and we say so

Windmill to the Stars:

Aragorn will pay attention to his people's needs

Me:

Good King Elessar would have some proper legislation for mobility

InvisibleWashboard:

I mean, that for sure falls under "he ruled wisely and well," doesn't it?

meg is me:

lady glasses another headcanon compilation post might be in order 😂 We've had some QUALITY stuff tonight

Me:

I was already gonna post the “Gamgee homeschool van” stuff but now I’m gonna have to do “elevators in Middle Earth” too 🤣

Writing Valkyrie:

What about second post?

Writing Valkyrie is @writingvalkyrie, InvisibleWashboard is @invisiblewashboard, Kasey Gondor is @captaingondor, Windmill to the Stars is @windmilltothestars, and meg is me does not have tumblr :-3

[senjuushi]

Event Translation — Beautiful girls are having a gunfight at my school!

Episode 1: We want money! 

One day in November, at the military academy. 

Hachikyu: Ummm... For Murata, sweet potatoes and tea leaves... deep-steamed stem tea? For Arisaka, yakisoba bread, a yam danish, and his fish’s food, huh? 

Hachikyu: ...c’mon, this is a military academy in England, isn’t it!? There ain’t gonna be such a specific kind of tea leaves! No yakisoba bread, and no yam danish, either!!!

Hachikyu: Ah— ...damn it. I’ll just buy some sweet bread and sweet potatoes for now... As for the tea... I’ll have to look for it when I go into town later. 

Cashier Guy: For six sweet potatoes, four bread buns, and the goldfish food, that’ll be 3000UC. 

Hachikyu: No way...

Hachikyu: (Hahh... Why did I even come to England? I’m Murata’s errand boy, I take care of those goldfish they just had to get, and Arisaka keeps coming into my room outta nowhere... I can’t even relax and play my games.)

Hachikyu: (I’m too scared to defy them, and scared of the consequences if I ignore this shit too... I get paid, though, so I guess it’s fine...)

*scene changes to outside*

Hachikyu: Haahhh, being a living gun is seriously the worst... I wasn’t summoned just to run errands, y’know!?

Hachikyu: Seriously, those two... especially Murata! Sure, he’s my senior, and our combat experience isn’t even comparable, but still... he’s getting kinda cocky, isn’t he? 

Hachikyu: ...no, I mean, I’m a former World Empire gun, and I’m damn lucky that I’m not getting tortured...  

As Hachikyu was heading back to the dorms while muttering to himself, the smell of sweet bread began to attract some bees. 

Hachikyu: Whoah! Hey, knock it off! H-Hey, don’t— get away from me...! 

*scene changes to a park*

Chased by the bees, Hachikyu runs around the school grounds, trying to escape—

Hachikyu: Heeh... hahhh... they’re finally gone... 

Hachikyu: ...whoooooaaah!

His foot gets caught, and he hits the ground. 

Hachikyu: ...ah...! ...owww... damn it... 

Hachikyu: This sucks... Today’s luck is seriously the worst... My willpower’s fucking crushed...

As Hachikyu looks around, he sees a pair of cadets, seemingly a happy couple, underneath a tree’s shade. 

Male Student: I love you so much, honey.♥

Female Student: I love you too, darling.♥ *smooch*♥

Hachikyu: ......

Hachikyu: Hahhh... ...what the hell am I doing. 

Hachikyu: Am I gonna be an errand boy for the rest of my life...? No, no way do I want that kind of life.

Hachikyu: Ah— ...I wish I had five thousand trillion yen. ...or honestly, just thirty million. Even ten million would be enough. With that much, I could live on my own. Yeah. 

Hachikyu: I wonder if a few million yen could just fall into my lap... Even better, if it’s tax-free. 

*scene changes to a dorm hallway*

Jitte: Hahh... 

*flashback begins*

After hearing a rumor that a bonsai market would be held at a shrine in the Asian district on the outskirts of London, Jitte decided to use his day off to attend. 

Jitte: Oh... the bonsai market is a much bigger event than I’d expected. There are so many fine bonsai trees here— how wonderful! 

Jitte: ...hmm!? This is...! 

A certain bonsai tree caught Jitte’s eye, and he ran up to look at it. 

Jitte: The wood has a depth to it that gives the impression of years long past, but the bark is still supple... The foliage seems fresh and firm as well, yet still elegantly arranged... it’s truly in a class of its own...! 

Exhibitor: Oh... you can tell this one’s quality, can’t you? 

Jitte: I most certainly do...! No, just looking at this bonsai, there’s no way anyone couldn’t! 

Jitte: Combining majesty, strength, and maturity, this is truly a wonderful bonsai tree... 

Jitte: I have no words for how well the arrangement of the pruned branches shows the overflowing vitality of the trunk! And beyond all of that... just looking at this pine conveys the nostalgic view of my homeland! 

Exhibitor: Ho, ho, ho. I’m delighted that you’ve taken such an interest in this tree. 

Jitte: I feel the same! I’m truly fortunate to have seen such a captivating bonsai! And on that note, since you’re showing it at this market... 

Exhibitor: Ah, yes. I’m getting on in years, you see, so I’ve been thinking I should try to find a respectable buyer who would inherit and protect this tree. Jitte: Th-Then, by all means, I would...! 

Exhibitor: Hold on, there. It’s for sale, but I won’t sell it to just anyone. This tree is over three-hundred years old, and has been maintained since the Edo period. It’s a masterpiece that’s been passed down in my family without fail, even when my grandfather came here to England. 

Exhibitor: The buyer has to be someone who has both the finances and the backbone to protect this one at all times... Yes, it must be someone who’s willing to generously pay the ten million yen fee. 

Jitte: Ten...

Jitte: Ten million♪ Ten million♪  Ten—

Jitte: GHAAH!

*flashback ends* 

Jitte: Hmm... No matter how I think about it... There’s no way I can scrape together ten million yen.

Hachikyu & Jitte: Hahh...

Jitte: Oh, Hachikyu-kun. What’s behind that mighty sigh?

Hachikyu: Nah, I should be asking you that. 

Jitte: Hahh... I have a wish that doesn’t seem to be coming true, you see. When I think about how impossible it is, the sighs just come out... 

Hachikyu: Ahh. ...actually, I know what you mean. I want to spend my days off lazing around and totally immersed in my games, but it doesn’t seem to work out that way too often. 

Jitte: You always do seem awfully busy, Hachikyu-kun. The end of the year is creeping up on us, and things are going to get awfully hectic. That’ll be hard on you, I imagine.

Hachikyu: Yeah, it sure will... 

Hachikyu & Jitte: Hahh.... 

Hachikyu & Jitte: Money would be nice. Wonder if I’ll end up with any... 

Hachikyu & Jitte: ...huh??

Jitte: You need money too, Hachikyu-kun? 

Hachikyu: Ah— ...something like that, I guess. Is there something you want to buy?

Jitte: Truth is, there’s a bonsai tree that was love at first sight for me... I was told that I’d have to put out ten million yen for it, though. 

Jitte: What about you, Hachikyu-kun? Something you want?

Hachikyu: In my case, rather than something specific... I guess, I just want to prepare something for my future self. The opposite of “poverty dulls the wit”, kinda. Make sense?

Jitte: I see. Indeed, it’s easier to do what you please when you have the means. I would have been able to accept that bonsai on the spot... 

Hachikyu: Ah... when you’ve got money, there’s no need to worry about rare equipment that you have to shell out for. You can hire someone else to grind the boring parts while you’re in class, too. More than anything, money won’t betray you. 

Jitte: Still, our daily lives are completely problem-free, with all of the necessities of survival guaranteed. Getting a ton of money on top of that just isn’t going to happen. 

Hachikyu: You can earn some extra cash with Practical Experience jobs, but that still ain’t much. Being a Musketeer, and stuck at a military academy at that, there are too many rules and regulations to do anything freely. 

Hachikyu: I want money, but I don’t even wanna work, anyway. Even if I can give it my all for a little while, I’m bound to get burnt out soon enough. And manual labor is especially out. 

Hachikyu: I want it to be like a lottery. Don’t have to put in much effort, and when I least expect it, the money comes pouring out. I’d look at my bank account and be like, “Whoah, there’s tons of cash!”— or something like that, y’know? 

Jitte: That really is the dream. I wonder, should I try to buy a lottery ticket... 

Hachikyu: Nah, don’t. The odds of that working are mega-low. You can buy a ton of ‘em and spend a ton of money, and still get zilch. 

Jitte: Hm... that’s true. In that case, it would be even more depressing to have a bunch of no-good tickets, and nothing else. 

Hachikyu: ...ah. Wait, what about this...

[the-bjd-community-confess]

Unfinished, Ugly, Overpriced

Genuine answer for the autistic anon and a discussion point for general commentary. Feel free to disagree and post your own thoughts on this, I feel like it’s important. While this may vary and we aren’t a bjd hive-mind, there are some basic minimum quality standards for artisan-made resin dolls, things that we have just kind of come to expect in the hobby, and many of the recent artist dolls that have been posted about here are posted because they don’t meet it. A lot of us don’t judge the doll worthy of its price and classification if it doesn’t meet these standards. Can you make what you want, how you want and charge what you want and ignore what anyone else thinks? Sure, but that might not be your best option if your goal is to continue to make and sell dolls. It’s not that big of a hobby and you need to appeal to a minimum number of actual paying customers to continue to meet your casting minimums and business expenses.

‘Ugly’ is subjective, a doll can be ugly to me and be wonderful to someone else but some degree of symmetry, a certain level of detail and evidence of artistic merit is usually expected for a doll over $100 not to just be considered ‘ugly’. ‘Finished’ is also subjective - many companies have refined their body sculpts and re-released them to look better and pose better, a few do it compulsively enough that it’s confusing to sort out all the versions even - but each version usually meets what we have come to expect as some kind of ‘finished’ state at the time of release, a range of motion, a refinement of the parts inside and out, consistent sizing within a proportional aesthetic, a good fit for the parts where they meet and few to no defects in the resin or overall design that could cause problems later. ‘Expense’ is another thing that is subjective, but price expectation is usually tied to both doll quality and skill of the maker, and in a more complex way, to rarity at release time or later. It’s true there have been a few utter potatoes that have held their value but those are exceptions. For me, since my doll gang has a really wide price range - basically if you can’t produce something that matches my aesthetic preference on a quality level that is consistent with other similarly sized dolls within your price range, I give the doll (and often the doll maker) a miss.

Another thing I’ve noticed is that the in past, doll critique in some circles has been both more blunt and more honest. When I started painting dolls, I received more helpful feedback in my own work and improved faster than I would have otherwise with only likes and nice comments. Now it feels like there’s more expectation to just say something nice and encouraging when someone posts a WIP and the actual critique areas are forgotten. I believe that part of the difference also is that some of the digital sculptors today don’t have a basic art background and they aren’t asking for and receiving valid constructive critique and re-printing & refining their dolls accordingly before casting, especially to work on the joints. But I also do know of at least 2 doll sculptors who will nearly throw a tantrum if they post a digital WIP asking for critique and don’t get praise, so no one bothers to give them any good critique anymore. Yet they expect to charge competitive prices for doll preorders that IMO do not meet the quality standards that merit the price they are asking.I mean yeah it's cool to make a doll that is inspired from book, video games, anime etc but I think this should stay a personal project, not something that you want to sell in several quantities.

~Anonymous