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#we made a heckin good story
drchucktingle · 2 months
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GREETINGS BUCKAROOS as you may have heard CAMP DAMASCUS is nominated for a bram stoker award this year. this is biggest literary award in horror and i am so deeply moved by this recognition. thank you horror writers association you have proven so much love to me. i feel especially moved as an autistic buckaroo writing an explicitly autistic lead character
when things like this happen there is suddenly a LOT of attention on authors and books and that is so wonderful. as you know i am always looking for ways to PROVE LOVE IS REAL and DIRECTING this kind of attention towards good causes can often be a powerful maneuver
with that in mind i have written a new 'no sex' tingler, NOT POUNDED BY MY HANDSOME SENTIENT STOKER AWARD NOMINATION FOR CAMP DAMASCUS BECAUSE THE TWO OF US ARE TOO BUSY CELEBRATING THE FACT THAT A STORY WITH AN AUTISTIC LEAD CHARACTER BY AN AUTISTIC AUTHOR MADE THE SHORTLIST FOR A MAJOR LITERARY AWARD AND NOW WE’RE DONATING SOME MONEY TO AUTISTIC SELF ADVOCACY NETWORK.
instead of hosting on amazon, this tingler is FREE to read and download on chucks patreon, with a suggested donation of 3 dollars to AUTISTIC SELF ADVOCACY NETWORK, a fantastic organization that works to help autistic buckaroos, and to support the wide, unique range of this experience. i have chosen three dollars because that is what i usually sell tinglers for, but you can donate as much or as little as you like. if you cannot afford donation at this time that is just fine bud, enjoy this book on me
thank you so much for trotting along on this journey, we have come so far together and i am overwhelmed with gratitude for the buckaroo community, for each and every one of your own unique ways that create this beautiful whole. step by step we are SHAPING AND BENDING the timeline towards love TOGETHER, and there is no sign of slowing down.
so enjoy this tingler, donate if you can, and thank you again to horror writers association for this incredible honor. LOVE IS REAL LETS HECKIN TROT
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When the Stoker Award nominations are announced, Chuck Tingle’s feelings are complicated. He’s honored and thankful to be considered for such a prestigious award, with all this new attention comes new forms of anxiety. In Chuck’s case, that means a whole team of paparazzi dinosaurs kicking down his door and flying through his windows.
Now Chuck’s on the run, but a chance encounter with a horror legend helps Chuck realize that it’s okay to be himself despite all this newfound pressure. Being himself is exactly what got him here in the first place.
This important tale is 4,000 words of sexless love and appreciation between Chuck Tingle and his kind and generous Stoker Award nomination.
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READ THE TINGLER HERE
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ihasafandom · 3 months
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Carnage re-write P1
So I woke up today with Words in my head and instead of assisting with any of my ongoing fics my brain has decided to re-write Venom 2: Let There Be Carnage ://
So I guess we’re doing that. (Originally a quick outline; cleaning it a bit and posting on Feb 6 for @symbruary's Fix-It day)
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The movie had pretty effects and a decent soundtrack and some good action, but what it lacked was the heart and comedy of the first film (and the good good deep Venom voice, why is he so squeaky and annoying now??? (T o T) )
I’m not a comedy-writing person, and I’m not gonna be doing an actual fic or screenplay for this, so I’ll be keeping to the heart part. What gives a piece its heart I thnk are its emotional throughlines. Each character and relationship having their own story where they change from how they are at the start to how they are at the end, and having that story be concretely present and observable as the movie/book goes on.
There were hints of that in Venom2 but a lot of them fell flat, didn’t go anywhere, or didn’t have a satisfying change.
For example: both Eddie and Venom are frustrated with their relationship for X reasons. They fight, they separate, they do things on their own, but when they come back together they haven’t resolved any of the reasons that they broke up in the first place. Everything’s just magically better for no reasons and we are supposed to intuit that they are good for eachother and that they have improved as partners but we never really see that happen. Just a forced capitulation on Eddie’s part and the same traumabonding and extreme circumstances that made them work as a team in the first movie.
Another thing that sucked was how they dumped the uniqueness of certain characters and plots and emotional beats from the first movie to retread the same old tropes from everything else. Dan was unique and widely beloved in my parts of the fandom for not being a jealous jerk. He admired Eddie’s journalistic work, he dropped his dinner to do doctor work without complaint, he trusted Anne, and he didn’t fall into the stupid romcom plots even when Anne brought them up. Focused, intelligent, useful, kind, caring. A breath of fresh air. Entirely unlike how he acted in the second movie.
So let’s fix that.
Situation at the start of the movie:
Eddie is depressed, frustrated, and stressed. He is not used to being the self-control in a relationship, and is trying really hard to keep to his morals. He also needs to make enough money to keep them in food and home. He is lonely; he misses Anne and Maria and people in general since a large part of his solution to Venom is isolating them in their apartment so that they don’t eat people and don’t look crazy in public. He is spending all of his time and energy either trying to do work or keeping Venom entertained, controlled, and fed. He also might need some mood-stabilizing meds, he seemed heckin ADHD and/or autistic in the first movie.
Venom is stressed, bored, and starving. It is not used to not being able to do whatever it wants (bar keeping its head down around other symbiotes higher on the pecking order), it is not used to having to cooperated with a host, it doesn’t understand Eddie’s morals, it doesn’t understand Earth, it doesn’t understand money, it doesn’t understand human relationships and society. It needs higher quality food (mammalian, more variety, more human-specific chemicals since it’s bonded with a human), it needs enrichment, it needs to understand more about what its new situation is.
They both need to communicate and understand eachother and learn to find a balance that will get them both what they need. They also need a support system and an income stream.
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mmkin · 3 months
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A Most Willing Queen (Hades x Persephone)
Well, here it is for my fellow Hades and Persephone fans/enjoyers - the first chapter of the story! It's posted on my AO3 here but there is also a cut under the lovely GIF of Hades.
Content/trigger warnings - Teen safe (some flirting) Mentions of bullying.
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A Most Willing Queen
I've loved mythology since I was a kid, and the myth of Hades and Persephone has been one of my favorites since I was introduced to the wonderful world of myths. I also enjoy the retellings of myths and fairy tales, I was a kid when Disney's Hercules came out and I loved it, even though the movie diverged from the myths in some wacky (but fun) ways. Recently, I watched the cartoon that was made from the movie and really enjoyed myself and then watched the movie again. Ahh, nostalgia ahoy.
So I decided to do a Hades and Persephone story, using the world/characters from Disney because well, this version of Hades is a heckin lot of fun. Persephone appears in the movie near the end when the gods are gathered around Hercules in gratitude. She’s the one with blonde hair and pale purple skin, and a headpiece/headdress thing that looks like a flower.
I like classical/historical retellings of mythology and fairy tales but I also enjoy fun and light-hearted retellings, whether set in the modern day or just using modern language and anachronisms (like this version of Hercules)
In classic mythology, Hades is the oldest brother, but in Disney's Hercules, he's the youngest, so I am using that. The time frame for this is a bit ambiguous as it spans years, but it begins not too long before Hercules is born.
So here we go, and I hope you enjoy this! All feedback is welcome. This was quite a challenge for me to write because historical fiction is one of my favorite genres and I had to keep reminding myself that anachronisms were perfectly ok – and needed – here. I’ve never written anything like that before, so I tried my best to capture some of the humor one could find in the show or movie, especially with Hades.
Brief historical note – the aulos is a two-piped flute. It can be seen in classical Greek art and I wanted something other than a basic flute or Pan pipe.
o0o0o0o
Mother did not like bringing her up to Olympus too often. Persephone wasn't sure if she should be glad for that or not. She was the daughter of a mighty goddess, one of the Dodekatheon, and her mother was also one of the children of Cronus himself. Pretty high up there in the hierarchy and yes, Zeus defeated Cronus and the Titans, but he hadn't done it entirely on his own. And as her mother would point out, lightning bolts don't feed mortals. And one of the fastest ways to become happy is with a full belly, which Persephone couldn't argue with. God and mortal alike enjoyed a good meal and going to bed with a full belly. Even if the gods didn't need food, the banquet tables of Mount Olympus were piled high when there was a party.
Since she was born, the importance of the cycles of Nature was ingrained into her. Mortals died, plants died, but that was part of the cycle of life, and it was Demeter’s job to help maintain that balance, and as she got older, some of that responsibility became Persephone’s. For she was also the Goddess of Spring, dancing through the fields and causing the flowers to bloom as Greece warmed from its yearly cooling.
But doing that, and all the other things through the year got tiring. Persephone dreaded the idea of eternity following the same routine. Whenever she expressed boredom, her mother always scolded her, reminding her of how important it was to ensure the plants grew as they should, going through the cycles. Or she would switch up the nymphs that attended her daughter, thinking that fresh faces would help alleviate some of that boredom.
Persephone was always supposed to be bright and cheery because, after all, she was the Goddess of Spring? And who wanted a quiet or gloomy spring, her mother would point out. Persephone could appreciate how important it was to be mindful of Nature and the blessings and rhythms of the earth. And all that jazz.
But sometimes she just didn't feel like doing any of that. She just wanted to enjoy peace and quiet, and not listen to the chatter of the nymphs or her mother's lectures. And she didn't want to wear that stupid flowery headpiece her mother chose for her when she was performing her goddess duties. She got the theme – Demeter's plant theme was pretty in-your-face to anyone who looked at her, but the flower motif was so overdone.
“Can you believe it? Hera’s pregnant again!” Mother laughed, clapping her hands with excitement. Persephone held back a shrug as she sipped some nectar. Even though having a baby was a pretty big part of nature, she’d always thought the process somewhat messy. Nature didn’t just involve plants, after all, even though animals were more Artemis’s domain.
“That's lovely. She and Zeus look so happy," Persephone said politely. She wouldn't begrudge another couple's happiness, even if the party was not as fun as she'd hoped it was. Mother was constantly at her side, giving her little opportunity to have a real conversation with another god. Sometimes another goddess would seek Mother's attention, and Persephone would try to sneak away, but Mother would eventually notice she was gone and go after her. Agggh.
That would change when Artemis approached them. She wasn't sure if Artemis had needed to talk with Mother, or if the Goddess of the Hunt was trying to help out the younger goddess. Maybe because Artemis's mother had been pretty protective until the wild young goddess had proven once and for all how independent she was.
Persephone let out a sigh of relief as she moved among the other gods – some of whom she had not seen in years – and taking in the grand sights of Mount Olympus. It did feel a bit strange up here, being so far away from the earth. She heard snippets of conversation, much of it centered around the upcoming baby, but also of various other things – dealing with worshipers, petty rivalries with other gods, the latest fashions, and the like.
Some of the gods here had been here since the beginning of creation and she felt awed by them. She’d heard the tales of how the Titans had been crushed by Zeus, who set the order of the world right so that mortals could live in peace. And then he’d apportioned lots to himself and his brothers, and those who had helped him in the mighty battle against Cronus and the other Titans.
It was said that Zeus, in his wisdom, granted the lots according to each god’s abilities. And it was something that seemed to have worked. No one could deny that Poseidon or Demeter were not happy – or suited – with the spheres they’d be given headship over. And likewise for many of the other gods.
Except for one. Gloomy as Hades might be, it was an open secret that he was unhappy with his lot. Someone had to take over the Underworld, but no one else wanted such a morbid place when there were delights in heaven and earth to be enjoyed.
She'd only seen him a few times and never exchanged anything more than a few polite words with him. But she felt bad for him after hearing the way the other gods talked about him. Maybe he wasn't as handsome as Apollo, or as friendly as Hermes, or easy-going as Poseidon. But she couldn't imagine that being stuck with a place no one wanted would do favors for anyone's mood.
She blinked as the very deity she was thinking about slunk past her, looking quite pissed off. Probably Zeus had another dig at him. It seemed that the gods rotated through the same few sets of jokes about Hades. About him being so stiff. Or having a fiery temper. And sometimes a bit of wrestling, as many brothers did, but Hades never looked like he was having any fun when Zeus or Poseidon had him in a headlock.
Most other people would have just laughed at Hades behind his back as he sulked off. Persephone stared for a moment before retreating from the party, almost gliding after him.
He stepped outside. Thick wisps of clouds surrounded the pavilion, and Hades muttered to himself as he slid his hand across his hair. She could practically feel the tension radiating from him. Suddenly, he whipped around, scowling at her. Several meters separated them, and she flinched back at his sudden movement. He blinked in surprise and straightened himself.
“Yes?” he asked diffidently, though she could still sense his anxiety and stress.
“I-” She blinked and looked at him. “I just… um.” It sounded so logical in her mind, but when it came time to speak, she found herself unable to express just what she wanted to say. “I’m sorry you had a bad time and… um.”
He raised his eyebrow. “I don’t remember the last time anyone showed any concern about how I was at these parties.” He slid across the ground, wisps of thick gray smoke curling around the hem of his clothes. It was hard to not feel intimidated as he towered over her, but he seemed more interested now instead of angry. So she continued, feeling a little calmer.
“I mean, the jokes and comments people say. Mother says it’s just how things are, but…” She shrugged. “I don’t see them treating one another the way they treat you. They’re jerks.”
There was an almost imperceptible shift in his expression. “That is observant of you, Persephone.” The way he said her name sent a small shiver down her spine, and against the darkening sky, the blue flames that danced around his head were ethereal. He didn’t look so scary like this, with the gentle twilight around him.
“Um, thank you?” she said with a small smile.
“No, no, really. You’re a breath of fresh air, you know that. I mean, aside from being the Goddess of Spring and all that. These parties are a drag and babe, you really made my day.”
Babe? But when he said it like that, it didn’t bother her. Had any other god called her that…
Mother told her about how her flowers brought joy to people. And Persephone knew that. She could see the joy in people’s faces when they saw flower-covered fields, when they plucked flowers and inhaled them, or used them for oils and perfumes, and so on. But it was nice to see that she’d brought happiness to a tired and bitter god with a few kind words.
She blushed and laughed shyly. “So… um, what’s the Underworld like?” she blurted out. He slid closer, wisps of smoke trailing around her feet.
“Eh. Could be more lively. Decor hasn’t been updated in a few thousand years, but who’s there to impress? The dead? They just pile up and I wonder if the place will ever get full. Doesn’t seem like it, but hope springs eternal.”
Despite his morose description of the Underworld, Persephone was still intrigued. She’d lived on earth. She’d seen heaven. Wouldn’t it be interesting to have seen the underworld, too? Before she could ask another question, she heard her mother shout out her name.
“There you are! What are you doing out here?” she demanded, barely noticing Hades.
“Mom! I just needed some fresh air.” Quickly, she glanced at Hades. A little help here, bud?
“It does get loud in there,” Hades said. “One can only see the same faces and hear the same jokes so many times…” He rolled his eyes. Persephone bit back a smile as she met his eyes. “Anyway, I’ve done my duty and made my appearance, so I believe it’s time for me to amscray. Got my duties in the Underworld that Zeus so generously bestowed upon me. Good night, ladies,” With that, he gave mother and daughter a small salute and disappeared into the ether.
“What was that about?” Mother demanded.
“What was what about?” Persephone asked with genuine confusion. She hadn’t done anything she wasn’t supposed to, was she? She’d just chatted a bit with Hades, who… well, actually didn’t seem quite as bad as the other gods thought.
“What did you talk about?”
“What? Mom!” Persephone said with a small huff. “Um, I asked him about the Underworld.” She left out the rest of it, though she did wonder if her mother ever stopped to think about how stupid the whole ‘let’s pick on Hades and call it teasing’ schtick was.
“Why?”
Persephone wanted to roll her eyes at that. “I was just curious about what it was like in a world opposite of ours. Figured who better than to ask than the god who ruled that place, right?”
“Mmm.” Demeter scowled, but quickly settled her face into a pleasant expression. You don’t have to be so protective, Mom! Jeez. Despite her mother's efforts to shelter her, Persephone wasn't ignorant of what mortals did. After all, her mother's work was inevitably tied with fertility even though there were other goddesses that resided over marriage or love. She saw the way that some of the gods looked at her and knew what they wanted.
She was curious about that sort of thing, but she hadn’t come across anyone that she would give serious consideration to. Her mother really needn’t worry about her, but there was no point in telling Mom that...
o0o0o0o
Persephone sneaked away from the nymphs as they danced and played their musical instruments, the cheery notes of lyre and aulos accompanying singing. It was something she often did when she wanted to simply be alone. She’d ask the nymphs to play music and then sneak away during their jam sessions. Yeah, Mom would scold, but without any evidence of wrongdoing, what could Demeter do but think that her daughter was weird?
The shade provided a welcome respite from the sun that had beat down on her head when she was with the nymphs, and she flipped her blond hair over her shoulder. The shade seemed to get thicker the further she went into the woods, and she paused as she looked around. The light at the edge of the woods seemed so far away.
“So what’s a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this?” she heard someone ask. She yelped and spun around, nearly tripping over a root before she saw Hades, sitting against a tree.
“You should know better than to sneak on people!” she exclaimed softly, quickly straightening herself and brushing a loose strand of hair from her face.
“Babe, if it’s any consolation, I wasn’t trying to frighten you. But yes, it’s a habit of mine.”
Yeah. She could see that. “Okay, sure. But what are you doing here?” she asked.
“I’m here to see you.”
She gave out a small, surprised laugh and gestured to herself. “Me?”
“Why not? Things seemed to be going nicely on Olympus with our little meet-and-greet, but your mother barged in. I figure, this time, we could take the chance to relax a little and get to know one another better. Sound good?” He grinned at her.
Some – okay, a lot of – women would have been repulsed by that fanged grin. But there was an odd charm about it. It wouldn’t have looked right on any other god, but it suited him, just like the blue flames and dark smoke did. She stared at him for a few moments, considering the implication of Hades’s interest in her.
The other gods mocked or scorned him. She’d offered him a kind word and like he said, it was like fresh air. It seemed only natural he would seek more. Considering what she knew of him, could she blame him? And she would be lying if she said she wasn’t the least bit curious about him.
“… Yeah. That does sound good.”
He stared at her for a moment as if he could not believe his luck. It was cute how his eyes widened and his lips puckered a bit as if he was trying to decide if she was teasing him or not.
Damn, the other gods really had done a number on him, hadn’t they? Seemed like some therapy was called for, but that was not for the here or now. He blinked and quickly collected himself, running his hand across his head. His flames seemed to burn a little brighter. Now that she thought about it, there was a certain appeal around Hades that was lacking in gods that were considered more conventionally attractive.
He leaned back against the tree. “In that case, have a seat.”
She waved her arm, and one of the roots from the tree flexed up, raising itself high enough for her to be seated comfortably.
When she was seated, she was just outside of his reach, but he could lean over and grab her. She saw the wisps of gray smoke curl around her feet and wondered if perhaps she’d made a mistake. He might be socially awkward, but he didn’t have ill intentions, did he?
She looked up at his face. They stared at one another for a moment before both of them opened their mouths to speak. She gave a small, sheepish laugh and gestured for him to go first.
“So, what are you up to?” he asked casually.
“Not much, really. Just had to sneak away from the nymphs for like, the umpteenth time. How about you?” she asked.
“I decided I needed a break. I mean, I’m the ruler of the Underworld, who’s gonna tell me I can’t take a break.”
“Zeus, perhaps,” she pointed out, seeing a glimmer of a scowl on his face before she continued, “But you can be sure that he won’t hear of it from me.” She flashed him a smile, and he relaxed visibly, chuckling and shaking his head.
“And you won’t tell him if I have a drink, either?”
“Oh no, no. My lips are sealed!” With that, she made the locking gesture on her lips. He grinned and with a wave of his hand and a puff of smoke, a martini glass materialized, with an eyeball in place of the olive. She blinked and looked at it, trying to not look grossed out by the eyeball.
“Oh, how rude of me. Would you like one?” he asked.
“Yeah, sure. Just, without the…” She pointed to the contents of his glass.
He snorted quietly at that, but a drink materialized for her, thankfully sans an eyeball.
“So, it seems that perhaps I’m not the only one who needs to get away sometimes,” Hades commented as he took a sip of his drink.
“Not as much as you do, I think. But yes.” She sighed before she took a sip. “Oh, that’s strong. But good.” It was different from the beers and wines that could be produced from the grain and grapes grown in Demeter’s fields. The flavor was sharp and not what she was used to, but after a few more sips she was used to it. “It’s just… the same thing. Over and over. Year after year.” She was a goddess, and so she didn’t need to be as concerned about the passing of time as mortals. “Planting, growing, harvesting, preserving, the same grind over and over like some rat race and I feel bad about thinking about it like that way because nature is so important and I don’t want to disappoint Mother and-”
“Whoa, whoa. Hey. Take a deep breath. Have your drink,” he coaxed. She took a deep breath. Sometimes she would feel anxious, but then Mother would tell her she had nothing to be anxious about, and that there would be nothing to be anxious about as long as she did her duty. She reached up to run her hand across her hair, thankful she wasn’t wearing one of these flower headpieces. “Someone as young and cute as you shouldn’t be so stressed out, hey?”
“I'm one of the older gods of my generation. I just look young." Fresh-faced spring to her mother's more matronly appearance. She didn't hide the mild annoyance in her voice.
He stared at her for a moment before nodding. "Oh yeah, that's right. You don't come to Olympus very often, and neither do I. But may I say you look fantastic for your age."
“Is that meant to be a pick-up line?” she deadpanned. He grinned at that.
“Is it working?”
“Not really.”
His face fell so quickly at that it was almost comical, and weirdly enough, she felt a little bad for him. He was interested in her, but he was not doing the best job of showing it. Some people were just socially awkward, but she imagined that being picked on constantly didn't help. So she wouldn't be one of these people.
“It’s just that I get so many comments on my looks. How cute I am, how fresh I look, and all that. It’s not very original.” She took another sip of her drink. “Really, if you’re going to try to hit on me, maybe go for something a little more creative?”
He stared at her with his mouth open for a second before he quickly collected himself.
“All right, all right. You know what? That’s fair enough. I get what it’s like to be typecast, so…” He squared his shoulders as he looked down at her, and she could tell that he was putting serious thought into it. That was more flattering than she wanted to admit. “How about this? If you were a taser, you’d be set to stun?”
It was her turn to stare at him with her mouth hanging open for a second. That was more flattering than she expected. He blinked at her and looked nervous when she said nothing so he thew out another one.
“So, aside from taking my breath away, what do you do for a living? Do you have a Band-Aid, because I scraped my knees falling for you? No wonder it’s so gray around here, all the color is in your eyes.” With each line, he drew a bit closer to her, inch by inch. She did not move back, though some others would have.
Seeing the God of the Underworld trying cheesy pick-up lines on her caused her heart to give an unexpected flutter. She gave out a soft giggle. His eyebrow quirked in mild confusion as he tried to figure out if she was laughing at him, or just enjoying his lines.
“Do you have more?” she asked.
“More what? More lines? You want more?" he asked, delighted surprise in his voice. "Well, then. Are you an artist, because you're so good at drawing me in? Are you a time traveler, because I see you in my future? Do you know what my toga is made of? Boyfriend material." Closer still he leaned until his face was only half a foot away from her own. She might have felt threatened, but there was something… exciting about having him in her personal space. The smoke swirled around her feet and lower legs, but the pressure was gentle, barely even there.
What would it be like having Hades as a boyfriend? Aren’t you getting a little ahead of yourself, Persephone asked herself. She barely knew him! She blushed as Hades looked down at her, wiggling his eyebrows at her in a playful leer.
Mother would have told her to run. But she just stared back at him and smiled sweetly before she finished the rest of her drink. “I’ll admit, these lines are pretty funny. And I do thank you for humoring me.”
“I like a woman with a healthy sense of humor.”
She thought about what she’d seen on Olympus and the way he was treated. “I like a man who can make me laugh,” she retorted gently. This time, when they stared at one another, it wasn’t awkward. She was certain her lavender cheeks were more pink than purple now.
“Persephone!" one of the nymphs screeched. The spell was broken, and she gasped quietly as she spun around in the direction of the voice. The other woman was still a ways off, but she did not have much time. Annoyance flared up, and she took a deep breath before turning to Hades, seeing the blue flames edging with red as he glowered in the direction of the voice.
“I… gotta go. Sorry," she said. "Mom's been in a mood lately and I really don't want to provoke her. But it was nice to see you again, Hades." She handed the glass back to him, and he took it, their fingers touching for a moment and giving her a pleasant tingle.
“Wait,” she heard him say as she rose from her seat and turned from him. She stopped and looked over her shoulder at him.
“I suppose you wouldn’t object to me seeing you again?” he asked as he reached out, picking up her hand and placing a kiss on the back of it. For a god of a cold and dark place, his lips were surprisingly warm.
“Not at all.” Her voice came out a touch thicker than she’d expected, and she found herself not wanting to pull her hand away. “Bring a few more of these pick-up lines next time, will you?”
He chuckled at that and nodded. “Until then, Persephone.” He disappeared into the ether, and Persephone stood there, staring at the spot where he’d disappeared, all the gloom gone before her friend found her.
o0o0o0o
Pain and Panic peered at their lord and master from behind one of the pillars in the throne room. There’d been something a bit off about Hades since he came back from his last visit to Olympus. A couple of times, they’d caught him sitting on his throne, staring off with a wistful expression neither of them had ever seen. He’d just come back from the surface world, and there was no mistaking the moony expression on his face.
“Could it be?” Panic whispered to his companion. They’d served Hades for hundreds of years and been around enough mortals – usually to spy or cause mischief on behalf of Hades – and seen them act like this. Old or young, male or female. They might be servants from the realm of the dead, but they’d seen enough of Aphrodite and Cupid’s work.
“If this came from one of Cupid’s arrows, it won’t end well,” Pain responded worriedly. They remembered that too well, even though it’d been ages ago. Manufactured love might be strong, but it wasn’t true love. It was like trying to replace real vanilla extract with the imitation stuff, and for one such as the God of the Dead, it simply wouldn't do. Really, it wouldn't, as the whole Leuce affair had shown. Talk about a dumpster fire.
“Hopefully the girl will be nice?” Panic replied.
“Well, there’s that,” Pain replied, crossing his fingers and hoping for the best.
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eventhorizon081 · 4 months
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Posting my take on the secret life ending (first reactions because I just watched it): (spoilers under the cut)
I was deeply disappointed by this ending, not because my favs didn't make it far but because of the utter lack of good storylines. maybe I'm not watching the right povs, but as far as I can tell, nobody formed alliances that were as deep as ones we've seen in previous series. I'd say the group that stuck the most with me was gem & the scotts (mostly because of scott smajor's sacrifice), and all other alliances fell apart too quickly as members turned red and died. I feel that this had mostly to do with the huge loose alliance that formed (possibly a result of the boogeyman episode, which I will contrarily say was really fun and probably the best episode, narrative-wise), which led to something that was basically a free-for-all after the few members that weren't in the alliance died. It ended up feeling more like a pvp tournament than a life series finale, which is sadly disappointing, given how wonderful life series finale narratives tend to be.
I think that's an inherent flaw with the system that was employed this season, because people often have to go off on their own to do tasks, not allowing them to build alliances and do the roleplays we love so much. At least, that's why I love the life series so much, and tout it to everyone I meet: these creators are all so talented and experienced that they can create these wonderful storylines out of nothing! NOTHING! The premise of the life series is that there is nothing going on besides the gimmick, which often doesn't impact much, but it makes every life and death so much more impactful! And I somehow just didn't feel that with secret life, because deaths were rarely mourned the same way they were in past lives -- because nobody was that attached to their teammates.
Now don't get me wrong, I still heckin love secret life. I think the secret system allowed for many amazing moments that will definitely go down in life series history. However, I feel like the benefit of the secret system was definitely seen more in the first half of the series, and the second half fell flat. Now, again, I happened to watch povs that ended up red very late in the series, but I also wished that red tasks were more creative. I loved the task where Jimmy had to assassinate Scott specifically! I think more players should have gotten tasks to specifically target players/factions! It would have made for better conflict and less of a free-for-all ending.
I don't know if I'm the only one here, but I feel like the life series has run its course -- in terms of new gimmicks. However, I would absolutely *kill* for a "re-run" of old gimmicks. (I mostly have in mind double life with new soulmate pairs.) For me, the appeal of the life series was never in the gimmick, because the gimmick only served to make life and death more meaningful when it usually isn't in Minecraft. The creators took that, understood the assignment, and made these beautiful stories for us. I really hope that the life series doesn't die out, because it truly is a gathering of the most skilled minecraft content creators, and a tour de force of their skill in improvisation. The beauty of the life series is its simplicity -- and I do hope we get future seasons closer to the original vision of the series, rather than leaning into gimmicks until the simple beauty of it is gone.
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frodo-with-glasses · 1 year
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More Reading Thoughts: The Field of Cormallen
And now, the comfort section of our hurt/comfort story
THE EAGLES ARE COMING! THE EAGLES ARE COMING!
Ooh, so interesting that when Sauron’s attention is turned away from his armies, they all falter. It’s like they’re all a little brainwashed and compelled outside their will.
Still love how poetically Tolkien describes a volcano erupting LOL
The response of the Men of Harad and Rhun is interesting. Some of them stand and fight, and it’s almost as if they have the same noble, against-all-odds courage that our heroes have all this time. Others run, and others throw down their weapons and ask for mercy. They’re not mindlessly terrified like the orcs and trolls, but try to do the smart and brave thing in their situation. I dunno. Kinda cool.
If Frodo and Sam hadn’t walked a little further down the mountain, Gwahir wouldn’t have found them; they would have been consumed by the fire. There’s something deep in there somewhere. Something about obedience making way for blessing.
And just in time, the Eagles bore them away…
AND THEN!! SAM WAKES UP!! IN ITHILIEN!!
And he thinks of the day he made that rabbit stew ;^;
AND THERE’S FRODO LYING NEXT TO HIM AND MISSING A FINGER
AND HE REALIZES IT WAS REAL
Wait, wait, wait, hold on—didn’t I say a long time ago that I headcanon Frodo as a side-sleeper?? Didn’t I draw him like that here and here???
IT HAPPENED AGAIN. I SUBCONSCIOUSLY REMEMBERED/ACCIDENTALLY PREDICTED THE BOOK AGAIN.
AND GANDALF IS BAAAAAAACK *happy crying*
“Gandalf! I thought you were dead! But then I thought I was dead myself. Is everything sad going to come untrue? What’s happened to the world?”
That line. That. Line. I can’t even begin to tell you how much that line has stuck with me throughout the years. One day death will be defeated, and everything sad will come untrue, and we will all rejoice in light and glory forever…
And Gandalf LAUGHS! And Sam CRIES! And then he LAUGHS TOO!
“How do I feel? Well, I don’t know how to say it. I feel, I feel—I feel like spring after winter, and sun on the leaves; and like trumpets and harps and all the songs I have ever heard!”
Aaaaahhhhh it’s so beautifulllll TTuTT You said it plenty well, Sam.
Also the fact that he waves his arms when he can’t figure out what to say. Sam is so heckin’ cute. I love him. X-3
And then Frodo wakes up and HE LAUGHS!! AAAAAHHHH!! All the sad things, all the sad things, all the sad things coming untrue!!
I can’t help but feel like Sam’s stomach must have dropped to hear Gandalf start off with “the fourteenth of the new year”. Like “HANG ON—I’m pretty sure it was MARCH when we made it to Mordor. How long were we out?!?”
AND THEN!!! THEY HAD!!! A BAAAATH!!
It was very glossed-over and only mentioned in passing but THEY HAD A BATH!!
I TOLD YOU BATHS WERE IMPORTANT IN THIS STORY
Can you imagine how good it must feel to HECKIN’ BATHE after weeks of dust and dryness and your own stench? No water, no water, no water, and then suddenly MORE WATER THAN YOU COULD ASK FOR. Sit in it and soak until your fingers and toes get all wrinkly amounts of water. And soap that smells sweet like flowers, and now YOU smell clean and sweet; and the dirt and dust comes out of your hair, and it goes from oily and crusty and heavy to light and fluffy and springy, and the curls pop up again like flowers that just received a spring rain; and your wounds are cleaned, and your skin is soft, and you feel fresh and rejuvenated and ALIVE AGAIN and UGH it’s so good.
I’m forcing myself to go slow here and take in the beautiful description of the land as we go. Just the way that the topography of the place gave Frodo and Sam some privacy as they recovered, while still being open and beautiful to look at, and also hid from sight the armies amassed on the other side of a corridor through the forest—it’s all so lovely and magical and ALIVE. I heckin’ love it when the trees make a “hallway” with walls of trunks and a roof of leaves, and this is the most brilliant usage of it that I think I’ve ever seen (aside from the Treebeard chapter).
AND THEY SEE ARAGORN ON THE THRONE AHAHAHA
AND HE SITS THEM ON THE THRONE IN HIS PLACE!! They must look so tiny and adorable on it oh my WORD—
AND SAM!! GETS TO HEAR!! SOMEONE TELL THEIR STORY!! JUST LIKE HE ALWAYS WANTED! GOODBYE I AM GOING TO C R Y—
And now Frodo and Sam get to change into something nicer, good.
It’s interesting to see the hard line Frodo takes about being a pacifist now. I wonder what’s his thought process there…
And they get little crowns ;u; aaaaahhhh I’m gonna have so much fun drawing this—
Pippin being a self-satisfied little snot as usual ahahaha I love him X’-D
And now they get to sit and talk and catch up with their friends. Aaaahhh, it’s so cozy and nice ☺️
I love how Sam is most befuddled out of everything by Merry and Pippin’s heights, LOL! He’s just a simple lad at heart, after all, and sometimes it’s the closest things to home that are the most amazing and confusing.
Sam: “Can’t understand it at your age! But there it is: you’re three inches taller than you ought to be, or I’m a dwarf.” Gimli: “That you certainly are not.” 🤣🤣🤣
In which Gimli continues to be the Mom Friend. His whole speech to Pippin sounds strangely reminiscent of the “I was in labor with you for TWELVE HOURS” guilt trip that moms use on their kids.
In which Legolas details his career plans and then randomly bursts into song
Samwise Gamgee, who just helped to save the world: “Dang, wish I could’ve seen more oliphaunts.”
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inkyvendingmachine · 1 year
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Im the classpect anon! Yes absolutely ramble on about CoC classpects (joey just reeks of Page of Hope to me)
Yesss YEEESSS OKAY SO
I can see where you're coming from with Page of Hope, but for Joey I think ultimately he'd be a Witch of Void. So much of his actual motivations and desires just resolve around creation; creation of stories and characters, creation animations and films, creation of a good life for him to live with his friends. And his lack of believing in limits is what really captures Void over Space I believe.
Henry would be a Knight of Blood. For his family, for his friends, he will stop at no ends to protect them, even using himself as the sacrifice if need be. (and in the case of actual heckin game, literally uses his blood as a weapon.) His bonds make him stronger, and he uses every ounce of that strength to give back to those same people who gave him power in the first place, a perfect loop.
For Jack, Sylph of Life. Jack has really taken up the position of Ultimate Healer in the group, in healing itself, but also in like... emotional healing, and helping people who really never thought they could live normal lives do such a thing. He's made food, comfort, a home, and doesn't stop making these things in abundance for those around him.
I gave Sammy and Prophet two different classes, but they share an aspect: Sammy is the Mage of Doom, and Prophet is the Seer of Doom. Not only is both of these being in the 'prophet' classes funny, but I think works very well based on their actions. So much of what Sammy does is based on survival instincts, but he's also one to actually accept losses when they happen and learn from them. More than others around him, he accepts that he might not actually be good at most things, and focuses better on what he can be good at, basically using his own doom as a power source to grow stronger. Meanwhile, Prophet is very obsessed with the doom of others in sacrifice for himself, deciding that he will not fail where others surely will. And he literally gets visions of doom that he uses to help prevent it so. Yeah.
Susie is a Maid of Breath; unable to be held down or back. She does what she wishes and goes where she pleases, and her strength comes from doing just that, being her own person and building upon everything she's worked for up until this point.
Peter is a Rogue of Light; You might think Mind would be more fitting for Peter, but he's more about the truth and the information itself, and the thinking things through comes as an effect of that. He's also very much an unstoppable force when it comes to gathering those truths, immediately turning to using his ghost powers to continue his work once he got them. And of course, he uses those to benefit those around him, whether it's the general public or just his friends.
I feel like Bendy the Lurker would fit in better as a like, sprite, but for funsies, treats him like a cherub and gives him Lord of Space. Not much thought has been put into this beyond being able to transform himself, since again, I think he'd work better as a sprite like companion, but y'know. Love this lil guy.
I could probably nitpick out more of the smaller characters, but we haven't spent as much time with them as these. (Well, we've spent a lot of time with Norman but half the time we do he's hiding or unable to speak so) Maybe after session 4 I will have more thoughts, but for now, here are the main characters.
( I tend to use this classpect analysis as a lot of the base of my thonks bc I really love how it's worked out.)
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ohhiplumbob · 2 years
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With the recent negativity in the community, I figured we could use some uplifting. So I’m asking simblr to pick a blog or two, (or more if you want) and say why they inspire you, or what you admire about them. Or simply.. Why you think they’re cool. Whatever your heart desires. Let’s just spread some good. :) ❤️
Aw this is a lovely thing to do anon! I'll just list a couple off of the top of my head.
@budgie2budgie B is incredible, She was one of the first simblrs I found. I didn't have a tumblr at the time so I bookmarked her page along with a few of the other OG's (dani-paradice, @inabadromance etc) and I'd visit them every couple of days to check for new CC until I eventually made my own page. It's been great to see her move into more story telling with her rotational game play and her imagination knows no bounds when it comes to edits. Have you seen her recent Barbie posts? She's so bloody talented.
@oatberrytea God I just heckin' love her. Absolute love and warmth just radiates from this girl and her blog. She’s been my biggest hype man since we found each other. Ultimate grandma vibes, 100% pure wholesomness on her blog. I’d kill to live in her game or even her actual house, I bet she makes the best cookies. Her game looks so soft and cozy and inspired me to create a save and play my sim Doris who I’ve had so much fun playing! (2)(3).
I’m lumping @servegrilledcheese​ and @ratboysims​ together becaue they both give me the same vibe, they’re both funny and crazy talented. Their game play posts are everything I wish I could do but just don’t seem able to, something to strive for. They have such recognizable and destinct sim styles, I can always tell a post by either of them while looking through my dash.
@mellindi​ Holy shit, have you seen her blog? I’m sick and tired of this gals talents. You name it she can do it. She’s a fantastic writer and bring so much life to her sims. She’s also so insightful and helpful. Her website is full of brilliant tutorials and information on mods to make your gameplay better! A real gem in the community and must be protected at all costs!
@mandy-sims Mandy has such adorable game play pictures but she’s mostly my go to for sim lookbooks. I’ve never been into clothing for fashion, I wear black leggings and some kind of black band or logo t-shirt every day and have done since I was a teenager (although I permanently had black skinny jeans glued to my legs back then). So I never know how to dress sims. I typically stick them in one of the styled looks and call it a day. BUT when I do wanna make a little bit more effort Mandy is where I go and just copy the looks she puts on her sims. Her decorating is also chefs kiss.
@orphyd An actual real life angel who walks among us. She’s been so supportive of me over the years and watching her grow in return has been a blessing. I wish I could just connect her game to mine and have instant access to all of her sims and interiors because they’re at least a 17/10. Genuinely sweet and loving person.
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kasarawolf · 9 months
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FANFICTION FACTS PART TWO. LOTS OF HECKIN READING AHEAD IF YOU ARE INTERESTED IN THIS SORT OF THING.
9. Chapter 1 has quite a bit of info dumping. This is because the story takes place 20 years after Future Trunks defeated the androids, so it’s been awhile since the end of that storyline in Z~!
10. Bulma is in her early 70’s in the story! Trunks would be around 40, but due to being in Conton City for various amounts of time, he has aged much slower.
11. Much larger species, like Dragons and Dinosaurs, are extinct in Future Trunks/Kota’s timeline. This is because when the Androids were ravaging the Earth, the planet couldn’t sustain such massive creatures and they eventually all died out. RIP.
12. Conton City is “the Future,” timeline, Future Trunks Timeline is “Present” and the Original Timeline (Where Goku and co reside) is the “Past.” These 3 branches make up “The Main Timeline.” More info about this will be added to my Guide Book once I draw up all the necessary pics!
13. History is not recorded in the Crack of Time. So anything that happens in there is permanent. This is due to Time not existing there. So no redo's or changing history in there!
14. Conton’s history is one long big scroll with no breaks in it, due to it being “the Future” so the Future is always being written upon!
15. Kota is Demisexual. (Even though it’s never said openly in story) I never saw him as someone that would actively date/chase/crush on someone right from the get go in his creation 14 years ago. It wasn’t until Xenoverse 2’s release is when I realllyyy started to think about a potential partner for him. His 3 possible love interests, were my oc's, Gigen, Tomata and an un-named girl (who is STILL in the story, just not named yet lol) However, right from the start, they never really meshed well with him and were quickly dropped. But he could not be forever single, because parts of his character wanted that connection with someone. And thennnn Fu was introduced in 2018 and his personality meshed well with Kota’s, and I was like “oh yup. There he is! Freakin finally the quest for your Significant other is over,” and the rest is history~ and who doesn’t love a “Hero” and “Villain” characters, secretly dating on the side. Just me? Oh. Alrighty then ^_^;
16. There are real world references in the story! Mostly to make it easier to write. Though some things, have off brands/non copyrighted stuff for them made up. Other World references mostly come from Kota, Sakana or TWIG. This is because Sakana, the previous Hero, is from “Other World.” And since Sakana is Kota’s mom, well, no need to explain that xD
17. How the story is written info! A lot of the characters can be unreliable narrators when telling the story. Since the story is told mostly in Kota’s POV and his POV is just all over the place (and then by arc two, Fu’s is incorporated in as well) Sooo yeaahh, good luck with figuring what’s true and what’s not xD (Unless another character confirms the other characters beliefs, which does happen lol) The whole story however, is written in 3rd person.
18. More writing facts. I intentionally gave some lines in the story double meanings. 2 examples (Spoilers removed from both)
EX. 1 Who's thoughts are they? Kota's? Fu's?? BOTH???
Though some thoughts may seem like they are written to be attached to a certain character (very intentional) It never specifies who's thought's we are seeing, (With saying Kota thinks or Fu thinks) during this set scene. Mostly all up to your interpretation as the reader.
EX.2 Is he talking about someone else being alright? Or himself?
This one is one of those "double meanings" segments. Again, mostly up to the interpretation of the reader!
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themayonnaiseclinic · 2 years
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The Pains of Sleeplessness
The following is a radio play I wrote for my RADIO DRAMA class in 2010. I wrote it as I was reading Dracula by Bram Stoker for the first time. It was meant to satirize Bram Stoker. I believe??? I literally haven’t read it since I wrote it. Is it good? I have no idea. Should anyone read it? Again, I have no idea. Why the heckin’ hey am I posting it, then?!! Because it’s been on my to-do list since summer since I started rereading Dracula b cos of Dracula Daily. ANNDDDD I wanted a few months ago, to contribute to the art and hoopla and fun of Dracula Daily, and this was/is still the best I’ve got?!????  I just gotta check it off my to-do list OKAY!!??!??! What is love, what is life, baby don’t hurt me!!!!!
ANYWAY WITHOUT FURTHER ADO (IF YOU ARE STILL READING THIS FAR GOD AND MINA NEE MURRAY HARKER BLESS YOU)
THE PAINS OF SLEEPLESSNESS
BY: MAYO CMEK, 2010
NARRATOR: It was midnight, and I had been walking, sleep-walking in a dreamy spot of haze. It was a shivery night under a full moon and a spot of immaculate, white, snow fall. I had just left the ‘Hairy Monk’ - a pub- although as I am not much fond of the drink, I had only one for myself. Make no mistake, the drink has had no effect upon these truthful accounts of which I am about to report to you. They are facts, and those of only the most gravest kind... [ominous pause] After meeting there with my childhood friend and long-time confidant Nick, I was making my silent way home through a dreary and patchy street of Brooklyn, New York. Washington Irving Avenue, I should think was the name of it, although under the brash hands of certain administration I have been made to understand that for “security purposes”, these locations and names must be altered to protect the privacy of the innocent individuals I chanced across. [cough slightly, as if unapproving] This paltry deed I shall do, and we shall instead refer to Washington Irving Avenue as ... Undead Avenue, which is more than appropriate and less than coincidence, as I shall hope to prove to you in time. And these individuals upon which I less than fortunately overheard are not quite the innocent that they may seem to be... [ominous pause, again.] A sound that most greatly resembled a vicious pounding of some plastic bag by the very mad and the very doomed, startled me from my dream-walking, and I looked up into a lit window and saw the waxen face of a brown, spiky haired young lady. Her hair was in utter disarray and she was standing by the open window. Why the window was open during this cold spell I am at a loss to answer, but perhaps, the ladies inside this room could not feel the harsh winds licking at their white skin, the way the rest of us with the lifeblood in our veins and beating hearts can... [another ominous pause.] BUNNY: Jump in bed, cover my head, Santa Claus is coming tonight. [speaks as if to herself, in a bored voice. Sound of hard body colliding with plastic wrapping that encases a newly purchased bed.] Night, Chinny. NARRATOR: I stopped to listen. Her tinkling voice, soaked in the most sorrowful of tragedies, appeased me as it was carried out the window on the crystalised, angelic Tears of God, each crafted in its own individual shape and harmony. Ah, snow, how it soothes me now to even write of your melodic spiraling. But, to the story, I must not stray. [pause.] It was also that name she mentioned: Santa Claus. It sounded familiar to me - perhaps a business associate, I thought at the time. Oh, if only I knew how sorely wrong I was, and how sorely I would pay for this pit-stopping, as they say in the States, from my good-hearted, Christian way. CHINCHILLA: A good night for you, sure. [plastic moves.] And Santa Claus isn’t even coming tonight what are you talking about. BUNNY: I’m only kidding. CHINCHILLA: He’s coming in six nights though I’m so excited! Bat brought me an early present home last night. I can’t waaaaait to play with him! WAIT. I’m going to go right now. BUNNY: What did you name him? CHINCHILLA: [throughout this speech, we hear BUNNY continously adjusting herself on the plastic.] Well, he already has a name, it said so on his tag on the crate, but I don’t really care. I don’t think we should limit him to just his name on the box, you know? He might have really special powers but we’ll see in a few days I guess. Since I can’t even see him during the day, ever. It’s like... I kind of think his name should be Robert, like after the hottest vampire in the world. [she huffs] I really wish we had HBO and True Blood. SANTA HELP ME AHHHHH. [hear her footsteps run out of the room] NARRATOR: Some people say we do enter freely upon these things, and of our own will, but at this point I was bewitched as if under some supernatural spell. Despite my good-headed nature and shivering fear at the brown-spiky-haired woman’s use of the word ‘vampire’, I could not take a step. The sound of the plastic - assumedly wrapped around the tender girl’s mattress, delivered freshly and neglected in the quiet, mysterious voice’s apparent exhaustion - was irksome on my muffled ears like a warning, and like the sound of frantic spoons scraping against my Grandmother’s fine China in the wash bowl it made my insides cringe. Their words and her face had piqued my intrigue however, and I could not walk away more than I could tell my Grandmother I wouldn’t make it to wash her treasured utensils the next day. Oh, the enchantments women have had over us mighty and masculine men! BUNNY: [plastic shifts, she is sitting up.] Hey, Chin, can your special powers like shut my door and light? Thanks. [more plastic noise.] CHINCHILLA: [from the other room] OH OF COURSE DUH. NARRATOR: As the room went black and the dark headed creature disapparated from sight, I could only see the prim snow blowing ever so gently inside the window - the winds had been snuffed with the light it seemed - and I wondered whether or not the harrowed voice inhabiting the room could feel it upon her brow as she tried to slumber. And what of these special powers, discussed so freely by the two curious girls? And the blood, of the truest red, that was wished to be brought with the aid of this Santa fellow? Santa, who was he and where did I know him from before? These questions plagued my freezing mind, my hat covered in heaven’s feather-like, white teardrops, and I still could not step - my body positioned like the stationary David, forevermore. And suddenly, the light and that ghastly head flickered in the window, back to life. CHINCHILLA: I’m not tired, I slept all day! SOoooOOooOOoo hungover. [she moans as the plastic shifts and BUNNY moves about, frustrated in her bed] And I think I’m going to name my little friend Pattinson. Because he kind of sparkles. Like hot vampires do. I wish I sparkled that would be so cool, and when I go out to hunt men I would like see all these guys and I would be sparkly and how could they look away?! BUNNY: [resigned plumping of the plastic.] CHINCHILLA: RIGHT?! [plastic does not reply.] NARRATOR: This girl posed herself as such a puzzle in my mind, and I fear that I can only now show my deepest regret in the failure of my wit to be called to action at that very moment. She was, I thought at the time, for such an animated and lubricious voice, a very pale and a very morbid looking face. She left the room with that so drained face, and the plastic wrinkled and wrangled underneath her dear friend’s poor, sleeping soul in her absence. The two girls, I thought, looked more painful than my poor Grandmother did, when I most accidentally and severely dropped her favorite purple tea pot onto my sturdy and fibrous foot, - and albeit covered and socked foot, due to a slight excess of hair on the utmost top that my Grandmother finds, in her worn and crude manners to be ‘retch-worthy’. [composing cough, as he comes to find this sentiment as embarassing and unnecessary as the listener does] The speaker forgives her of this, as youth cannot condemn age when he knows not the suffering of age. Still, we bleed. Where was this Santa fool to be when he was so direly needed and so desperately called for? CHINCHILLA: [sound of hard body flopping itself onto the plastic] Whore, why haven’t you taken the plastic off your bed yet it’s been like three days since you got it? BUNNY: I’m too tired. CHINCHILLA: [as she says this plastic bounces up and down with her animated movements.] YOU WEREN’T TIRED LIKE RIGHT AFTER SUNSET WHEN YOU ATE ALL MY BLOODY TOMATOES OUT OF THEIR CAN AND SUCKED THE JUICE ALL UP. You wolfed that shit down, girl. BUNNY: Oh, not really. Not yet. [scratches at the plastic, almost menacing.] CHINCHILLA: SO anyway, Pattinson Robert Cullen is not tired and we are going to go take a walk and maybe pick up some hotties. AW, balls, it’s still snowing out! I don’t want to get wet. Snow, go away! [plastic loosens as she gets up.] NARRATOR: A chill swept over me. A chill that had nothing to do with the divine snow still yet piling itself up onto my hat, almost like a Halo, a small ring of protection, and in retrospect now, I may attribute this holy sheathing to my fortunate escape. But rather, the chill came from the sudden termination of the snowfall, just as the brown-head cried it so. She stepped gracefully, but in this grace there was a sort of inhuman quality, a sort of malice that indulged in its own sleekness. She was at the window now, and I shuddered. [Silence for a short period of 10 seconds.] CHINCHILLA: Oh my God! Some drunk guy is peeing outside our window! Look! NARRATOR: I was not peeing! [SUPER OFFENDED AND DEFENSIVE! then, regains his posure, and tries to be polite once more, with effort, but fails. Voice starts slightly composed but crescendoes as the speech goes on and is almost at an angry screech by “Hell”.] I mean to say, this Madam ‘Chinny’, was - a - liar. The falsehoods that she began to utter gave way to her unmasking, and they will only land her in the dankest pits of Hell! I, a refined man of upstanding valor, would not be caught even tempted by Satan to be relieving myself on the streets, in which the public so often take refuge. It would be a crime, a crime punishable by law. [remembers purpose of story, as he was somewhat side-tracked in his attack of CHINCHILLA and resumes his ominous tones.] And here, I will say, it is a crime. Much like the crimes, oh, the gruesome crimes the missus will commit. The crimes that I, being of such courageous heart, must have been preordained by God to witness and thus bear their splintering, wooden crucifix upon my back; the crimes that are yet to come...[ominous, foreboding, back in his thought-train.] BUNNY: What, oh, wow, cool. [not shifting, the plastic lies still.] CHINCHILLA: Did you HEAR ME?! Some drunk guy is peeing outside our window. NARRATOR: [in a mumble, an undertone.] I still maintain I was very well not. CHINCHILLA: And now the snow’s all gross and yellow yuck. Did you hear me? Okay. I think he left. Or at least he’s crouched behind something like a little hunchback weirdo. NARRATOR: Excuse me, for I must interrupt. I would again, like to recall to the listener than certain words and events and names have been compromised. These words, slanderous words, are not what one first-hand historian would call fact-based. CHINCHILLA: GOD NARRATOR shut your stuffed pie hole and let me get on with the story! It’s my turn to talk. NOW Bunny, alright, alright. I’m sorry, I know I’ll let you have your little time to yourself sleep whatever you want to call it. Good night. [steps leaving. plastic rattles a little and BUNNY finally finds her resting place. All is still. Silence.] NARRATOR: [coughs, indignantly.] The stillness from the room above elicited a morose shiver down my spine. I moved my feet, the plastic sounds which intuited the movements of the body above moved in accordance with my steps. I say again, I was not in movement to relieve myself of excrement of any sort, rather, I had finally begun to understand the hellish fires that burned with the lights above, the lights above that the flakes of God could not even quell. It was then, in my course of circling below, crossing myself - and I am not as of usual a superstitious, flimsy, sort of man, by Jove - then I was able to see. God be with me, I thought. This Santa, I remembered then. I dredged up from my pool of ghastly memories; memories from catechisms and prayers whispered in hallowed spaces of Churches in towns of my travels; Santa was a man who wore only red, and visited the world only a single, grim, night a year. Saint, they called him. Saint of the red-nosed, Saint of the black, plastic bag in which gifts are carried to be given to those devoted to his pagan occult. Santa, was no doubt, a shorthand for Satan. ‘God be with me’, I said as I crossed myself from marble-smooth forehead to sinwey shoulder and back to the heart, the ‘bloody tomato’ that which these women so wanted to possess. These women, hardly can I speak of them as girls any longer, after I had enlightened as to what they were. Indeed, the white and waxen, star-crossed abominations: these women were of the militia of the Un-Dead. And HBO, why, I gathered then must have been another shorthand, standing for Human Blood (type) O. It was, at this point, clear to me what I must do. But before I could enact the plans that were bountifully blooming in my head, I heard the plastic shiver once more, and the brown-haired voice call out: CHINCHILLA: [calling from the other room, the plastic wrinkles softly.] HEY. BUNNY. That Aunt Jemima in the fridge, is that yours? Can I have some? NARRATOR: I prayed. Poor, poor Aunt Jemima, for whomever were her nieces and nephews, they would never be to look on her sweet face ever again. BUNNY: [sighs, and hits furiously the plastic covering her mattress.] CHINCHILLA: Does one hit mean yes and two no? Yes? BUNNY: [hits plastic once more.] CHINCHILLA: WHAT? BUNNY: [hits plastic.] CHINCHILLA: WHAT? BUNNY: [hits plastic, harder this time, with both hands.] CHINCHILLA: WHAT?!! BUNNY: [kicks plastic furiously, hard, like beating a dummy or a scarecrow.] CHINCHILLA: ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT, I get it. Lots of hits means hell yes, take a chill pill. Good answer though. Thanks. Goodnight. [still, sounds of the plastic being rolled over upon and wrinkled and slapped can be heard outside the window.] NARRATOR: I saw the diabolical Miss walk into the room once more, she lit the room and so her face was, light and bright with a fervor that can only be inspired by a spiritual madness. She was about to drink, something dark, something thick, from a red-capped bottle. I had to strip my fine, leather mitten off and stuff it in my mouth to keep from screaming, much like my fine, dear, Grandmother had when I stumbled with my socked feet upon her lower back as she was performing some Coney Island, circus-like stunt she called ‘yoga’. I feel learned in my saying that the horror and sin of the drink the women were about to share - Oh, and mistake me not, for it was blood in the bottle, human, mortal blood - would have tormented any man to histrionics, even I, most lion in heart. Oh, their deviant, zoophagus longings made me want to cry out, screech like an owl out, to a God that I now doubt. CHINCHILLA: HEY. [plops on plastic.] This is so good. It’s like delicious and yummy and mmmm. Thanks so much I’m so hungry all the time every night lately. OH my god, I should see if Rober- [sounds of body hitting the plastic moving wildly, and being thrown about on it.] BUNNY: [makes grring and roaring and howling noises.] I am going to kill you! [plastic thrashes about wildly again and it is all we can hear.] NARRATOR: [still hear the playing around of the plastic in the background.] The flowing, red-head yet unseen reared, and I could look no more. I ran, and I ran, and I ran until my legs could run no more. The thrashing of the plastic and the hard, sensuous bodies atop it were a rattle of a coming death. Coming for me, coming for the ones I loved. And I ran, as any man must do in a position such as mine. I ran, far, to get away from those creatures of the so grotesque underworld in which all men of faith must abhor. [plastic thrashing quiets but does not fade away altogether.] And so here, and of the now, I abhor them; I yet again, cannot leave them. [bodies on plastic makes one more feeble turn, and then all is quiet, silence again. Hold for 5 seconds.] The girls, haunt my dreams. The cold faces and the dark, creamy red that they feast upon trickles down their dream-chins and they never let me sleep a wink. ‘How blessed are some people, whose lives have no fears, no dreads, to whom sleep is a blessing that comes nightly, and brings nothing but sweet dreams.’*
As much as I pray, as much as a man may beg, that these events of this most potent evil had never happened to fall, plunking, onto my head, I must believe that there is a scientific order and purpose to all. Dear Listener, I implore you, take heed of my story. Do not walk the avenues alone, lest of all late in the hours of darkness, and believe with every piece of your innocent and God-fearing soul that these wicked monsters have not died, and will - nay - cannot die. And they will want you, and they will and very well haunt you, as they, every day that I have left on God’s greenest earth, haunt me.
And Grandmother, if you are listening, I will be home around seven, and your supper shall be prepared to sup upon around eight.
*quote comes from Bram Stoker’s Dracula.
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onebluebookworm · 4 months
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Ranking Books I Read in 2023 - 30-26
30. The Westerby Inheritance - Marion Chesney
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I didn't manage to plow through an entire Marion Chesney regency series like I have in pervious years, but I did read a lot of standalones. And honestly, this one isn't even Regency, it takes place in the 1750s. Either way, it was...fine. Not my favorite thing Marion Chesney ever wrote, but still fun and silly and melodramatic. It does sure exist.
29. Alternate Channels: Queer Images on 20th-Century TV by Steven Capsuto
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I read this on recommendation from Matt Baum (he namedrops it in one of his videos, I believe the Barney Miller one?), and it is indeed a great source for context when it comes to the way queer people are portrayed on TV. Unfortunately, the books goes into very minute detail about almost every appearance over the course of sixty-ish years (the edition I read was published in the very early 2000s), and that's a lot to slog through. Some interesting stuff if you can soldier through it.
28. Anthony Bourdain's Hungry Ghosts - Anthony Bourdain and Joel Rose
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My heavens, this would have benefited from being a series. Or at the very least a longer book. There's some great material in here, and it's a shame that it's absolutely blasted through in the interest of getting through as many of the stories as possible. This could have been really cool, but it just felt like a simple flash in the pan, and that makes me feel really bad for Anthony Bourdain (more than I already did).
27. Black Paradox - Junji Ito
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Along with Junji Ito's infamous ending problems, this one made me notice another disheartening trend for him - he can't pick a premise and stick to it. What starts as potentially a terrifying look into what can drive people to suicide with a potential supernatural twist quickly becomes a Lovecraftian horror story that is pretty heckin bizarre. Neither of them are bad story ideas, but they don't exactly mesh and it's a really clunky transition. There's still a lot of Ito's amazingly gruesome artwork on display, but it still feels kind of lame.
26. I'm Afraid Of Men - Vivek Shraya
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Another one that I felt was simply too short. Shraya has such an interesting perspective and such a poetic way of talking about it that I would have loved to hear more. Like, don't go girl, we were just getting to know each other. A good appetizer, though, and I'll definitely be checking out her other works.
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drchucktingle · 1 year
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more art talk
buds have been asking some questions in comments about separating art from artist so i will answer a few. first i will start with this very good post from a buckaroo who sums up everything i have said VERY VERY WELL. was reading along nodding but then got to end and they seem to think chuck disagrees which is confusing. i do not disagree with any of this it is just very good summary of my post so i will put here for context and to say 'good job bud yes'
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anyway this is great summary of what chucks post was talkin on. knowing everything or nothing about an artist will color your interaction with them (even learning something and then pretending you never heard it will color your interaction whether you like it or not). personally chuck thinks the 'ignoring path' will be less vivid and complex but all ways are VALID. there is no correct what to experience art just personal preference that we all make for our own trot.
now i will get to the questions of a different bud.
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no of course not why would it be incomplete without knowing every member of crew. chuck does not even really understand what this buckaroo is trying to say. your artistic experience is just as colored by how much you know about someone as it is how much you DONT KNOW about someone (i wear a heckin mask chuck is a perfect example). all of these ways are valid and all are part of the artistic experience. so no you do not need to know whole crew to enjoy art what the heck
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no of course not. where are buds getting this idea? if you bought painting from local art fair with this big story behind it about daughter selling to you and all this THAT IS ALL PART OF THE GREAT ART EXPERIENCE. what you have for lunch that day is part of it and the way you got to the swap meet and what the weather was is all part of the art. this story is very vivid and exciting. of course that is not 'leaving the play at intermission' just because you do not know who made the painting. not knowing who made the painting is PART OF THE ART BUD
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of course your experience of art changes if you experience it multiple times. this one seems VERY ovbious so i am extra confused. your experience of a dang movie changed based on where your seats are and whether or not you order a popcorn and chocolate milk, of course it changed second and third and forth time you see it. not sure what is part about doing legwork first means.
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what about it? i am confused. deliberately separating yourself from your work in some way (like wear a dang pink bag over your head and being mysterious WHAT THE HECK) would IN ITSELF still be part of the art. something not being known is just as relevant as something being known and these are all perfectly valid parts of artistic trot
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having a complete picture of context might make experiencing art more complex or vivid, might not, neither is 'more valid'. you do not need to know EVERYTHING about a work of art. in fact you do not need to know ANYTHING to enjoy art. not sure where this is coming from.
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that is true if you learn something bad about an artist and then ignore it you are STILL altering your experience of their work, which means you are STILL not actually separating art from artist because to IGNORE something is an active choice.
seems like buds are hung up on this line from chucks previous post:
'separating artist from art is like walking out of a play during intermission youre missing half the show bud, for better or worse. gotta accept theres a whole second half and grapple with that because its all one big performance'
buckaroos seem to think this is SCOLDING those who walk out but that is not what i am saying. i am not saying 'shame on you for walking out' i am saying YOU LITERALLY CANT STOP THE EXPERIENCE IT IS IMPOSSIBLE. because walking out does not end the experience it just dulls your perception of whats happening in the theater. intermission walkout means you just have a new and different experience where youre witnessing the show from the lobby or across the street (which is to say having artistic experience of NOT witnessing the show). and personally chuck thinks sticking around and really wrestling with these ideas brings vivid results (despite all experiences being 'valid' in technical way. there is no 'correct' way to ART AROUND this is just chucks personal choice)
anyway those are some comments i thought were interesting. many of them are confusing to chuck but wanted to answer all for way of clarity of buds and just to DIG A LITTLE DEEPER. thank you to buckaroos who took time to write all this you are proving love and i appreciate your input very much EVEN QUESTIONS I DO NOT UNDERSTAND ARE VERY GOOD AND THOUGHTFUL so thank you buckaroos. LOVE IS REAL
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safyresky · 6 months
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Crystal Springs Chapter 20: Now on ao3!
Happy Thursday everyone! Apparently it's becoming my CS update day ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. Anyway, catch Chapter 20 on ao3 RIGHT HECKIN HERE
Chapter 20: Breaking the Chains
Jacqueline opens up about the blackouts. Kasper gets to see Polly. The Man has a very good evening.
The Man has a very VERY good evening. He's very productive. Here's a fun lil excerpt for you all:
Inside the castle, The Man hummed to himself, walking towards his study with a steaming mug of something hot. There was no discernible smell; it was just hot. He sipped, humming happily, as he entered the commandeered parlour and poured the rest of the mug into a smaller cauldron sitting on top of his usual vat. It was filled with a shiny, gold, liquid that had the consistency of molasses. The liquid sparked as the hot stuff hit it; the glow turned purple. "Promising," he said to himself, throwing the mug against the wall behind him. It shattered, the porcelain nearly disintegrating on impact with the stone walls. Still humming, The Man walked around the cauldron, pulling one hand out from behind his back. He made a loose fist; in a swirl of fire, his staff appeared. Positioning himself on the scary side of the cauldron, very much on purpose, he spread his legs apart and gripped the golden staff tightly between both fists. He slammed it onto the floor. The red oval stone glowed, hovering between the crest it rested in. The Man's voice grew deep and echoey as he uttered the spell; the staff crackled and sparked, and on the other side of his vat of lava, a whirl of fire appeared. It whooshed downwards and dissipated, revealing a very startled elf, holding tight to a teddy bear and a small package. "What in the blazes is all of that?" "I was just. I...sorry, I wasn't ready to be. To be." He gestured to the ground below him. "Here." The Man blinked, unamused. "No matter. Did you get the item I requested?" The elf nodded. "I did! Here you go," he said, reaching into his vest pocket (teddy crammed under his arm) and passing The Man the vial. "There's a couple. Definitely hairs. For-for sure." "Let's test that, shall we?" Eagerly The Man grabbed the vial out of the elf's hand. He cracked it open; with a wiggle of his finger, one single hair flew out and hovered. He squinted at it. He mumbled under his breath, drawing a shape in the air. The hair glowed. The Man grinned. "Excellent." He moved his finger in an arc through the air; the hair followed, hovering above the vat and falling when he snapped his fingers.
Intrigued and disturbed and perhaps, oddly enjoying The Man's shenanigans? Give it a read to see where this takes him RIGHT HERE :)
Also, NEW CHAPTER TITLE. Bout to go update it's ff dot net counterpart in a mo.
Want to start reading Crystal Springs from the beginning? Tune in to Prologue: An Encounter HERE on ao3 and HERE on fanfic dot net :)
Story summary below the cut!
It’s been almost a year since Jack Frost thawed and things are looking…well, not so great. Jack’s powers are seemingly gone. Without them, the Dome that keeps the North Pole safe from the cold and its magic controlled is melting, putting everything and everyone magical at risk.
Unable to hide his power shortage any longer, Jack is forced to admit the truth. Thankfully, there is a solution: enacting the Legate Law, bringing Jack and the sister that he hurt so many centuries ago back together again. But when Jacqueline starts experiencing destructive blackouts, the pair are forced to head back home to Crystal Springs, bringing Jack face to face with the rest of the family.
Needless to say, between getting his powers back, helping his sister figure out what in the FROST those blackouts even were, reconciling with his parents, meeting the two even younger siblings he didn’t even KNOW he had, NOT TO MENTION the ancient threat that’s had it out for the ENTIRE Frost family finally making a move?
Saving Christmas (regrettably) is looking to be a little bit…complicated.
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I posted 1,551 times in 2022
That's 159 more posts than 2021!
150 posts created (10%)
1,401 posts reblogged (90%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@the-derpy-dragon
@possible-cryptid
@celestial-citrus
@birdy-the-artist
@supreme-leader-stoat
I tagged 1,037 of my posts in 2022
Only 33% of my posts had no tags
#heckin great art - 528 posts
#my art - 100 posts
#digital art - 77 posts
#art - 77 posts
#oc - 60 posts
#small artist - 60 posts
#original character - 56 posts
#monster hunter international - 40 posts
#boost - 38 posts
#fan art - 37 posts
Longest Tag: 92 characters
#it’s honestly so sweet that they went ‘we want children to be able to draw these characters’
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
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Angry Chicken Man is more of a Sad Chicken Man that needs hugs.
Shane is probably my favorite marriage candidate in Stardew Valley (sorry Harvey), mostly because he feels the most real, and the one that needs the most compassion out of all the bachelors. Not in a "I can fix him" way, more of a "I'm willing to help you out of this". After all, it's the people that protest the loudest that need the most love.
Anyway, the little lady trying to comfort him is Susana, my mute Farmer, who may have strong-armed her way into Shane's heart. She never was deterred by his rude attitude in the beginning, mostly because she could see right through it.
26 notes - Posted October 8, 2022
#4
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yes, this is their dynamic almost to a T... no I don't take criticism
26 notes - Posted March 16, 2022
#3
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Odeskra Mage of Steel
Honestly, I've really wanted to play Skyrim again, but since I don't have it (yet) I did the next best thing and drew a Dragonborn OC.
Odeskra is basically a red mage, Jack of All Trades magic user and battle-axe welder. I'm not entirely sure what her story is yet, but I like the idea of this beast of a woman being as gentle as a flower.
A good fighter, sure, but when not running around killing dragons or bandits, she's dancing around in frilly dresses and speaks very polite and posh. A hopeless romantic and gentle soul, who wants the best for everyone.
30 notes - Posted June 9, 2022
#2
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On the top is Shalaskev, the kobold Gunslinger (made by my hubby :3) and on the bottom Illaka the gobling (half goblin half halfling) Skald (mine).
Some dnd characters that we haven't been able to play yet, but when we do, it'll be love at first punch with these two, lol.
39 notes - Posted March 8, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
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The Crimson Star
I have watched and finished Monkie Kid, and this son of a bitch grabbed me by the balls and said "Guess who's your favorite?" and he was right...
Red Son is best boi in LMK and I will fight anyone who says otherwise. jk
62 notes - Posted May 18, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
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artnerd1123 · 5 years
Note
*insert bongo cat gif here* tell me about your fnaf headcanons!!!
Oh shniz hfjjsks—
I’ve actually got... ehhh... a whole old au type deal I made with m’friends @doodles23 and @killerraptors back in 2015 ‘^^
I say au, bc we p much made up our own lore back then, cuz the official stuff either hadn’t come out (which was the case with like 99% of it) or we wanted to play by our own rules! P much all of it goes like. Directly against canon now hfbdj. I think I can tell u a lil bit about headcanons for the fnaf 1 animatronics tho!!! Just based off what I remember!!!
((And, for reference, I did rp as all these dudes but chica at one point!))
Freddy was the boss dude who took care of all the finances and such. He did his best to take care of everyone, and was a rlly good friend!!! but the guy gets frazzled easily, and had some anger issues to deal with. He also didn’t like people boopin him snoot >:V
Chica was an upbeat, happy, and cheerful gal who tried to keep a good atmosphere in the pizzeria! She’s an amazing cook, and loves making people pizza and cupcakes and b-day cakes. She loves her cupcake, Carl, and was sorta a mediator from what I remember!
Bonnie boi, my dude!!! He’s the rockin guitar bun who’s a lil bit nervous about life. He’s always up for jammin, but gets really self conscious in terms of appearance, and can get pretty down in the dumps sometimes. He’s doin his best tho!!! And chica’s pizza always cheers him up!
Foxy!!!!!! This is!!! My favorite boi I’m cri!!! He’s a swashbuckling pirate with a taste for adventure! Even though he gets broken down often due to old damage from kids playin rough, he’s always got a chipper smirk, and is quick to investigate new things. He’s also good at making people feel welcome in his motley family “crew” of animatronics and people. He’s v protective of those he loves. And he can also get a bit wild/fly off the handle sometimes, but he means well. Foxy’s often sad when nobody visits for awhile, so he tends not to stay in his cove unless someone else is there with him, or he needs a nap.
Golden Freddy, aka Goldie!!! He’s actually not a real animatronic anymore, just a ghost that floats around the pizzeria. Guy can teleport around, and get into any room whenever he feels like it. However, he’s more of that older brother/dad/well meaning uncle kind of a dude rather than a spoopy Bear. He gives good advice on just about everything!!! And he’s kinda the dude in charge on top of Freddy. Everyone goes to him if they need smth. Even if the guy does get oddly cryptic and cagey when asked about his past...
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I was reading that story in Eleutherophobia where the Berenson extended family all gather and I'm wondering, do you have any thoughts/headcanons about the Berenson brothers' relationship? No, not Tom and Jake, but the generation before them: Steve, Dan, and George.
I do.  So much.
We don't know a ton about George (Saddler's dad) but the contrast between Dan (Rachel's dad) and Steve (Jake's dad) has always been striking to me.
Steve seems like this incredibly balanced guy: "Always nice. Always gentle. Joking with the kids and reassuring the moms and dads. Staying calm while the littler kids screamed bloody murder and vibrated the very walls" (#31). And it's not just sick kids he's that nice toward; when there's some guy screaming in his face and threatening to hit him over a parking spot, Steve remains level-headed and even comforts the dude when he gets upset over getting attacked by a cockroach (AKA Jake). Sure, Steve can be a clueless at times, tolerating some Weird Shit from Tom especially without showing any sign of worry that his kids are acting so erratic, but he's this responsible and steady dude.
Dan, on the other hand, is... flaky. Rachel says "My dad does these little outings where we all get together every second weekend. Sometimes it's just me and my dad... I don't get to see him as much as I wish I could" because "he cancels sometimes” (#7). We also find out that he talks openly about Rachel being his favorite child, which suggests the reason he doesn't always bring Jordan and Sara on his twice-a-month visits. Dan will buy Rachel room service (#12), but when she calls to say she's "not doing good", Dan responds "Have you talked to your mom? She's pretty good with this kind of stuff" (#32). He'll take her to the circus, but he expects her to cater to his emotional needs ("No, it wasn't pity or guilt... my dad was feeling lonely") without considering hers (#7). He puts the hard conversations on Naomi, letting her be the one to tell their kids about the divorce (#2), give them The Talk (#32), and announce that he's moving away (#7). Frankly, no wonder Naomi dumped him.
Also, look at their jobs. Steve's in a career that requires 12+ years of post-secondary education, and highly active in the lives of his own kids. Dan apparently spent years pursuing a gymnastics career that went nowhere ("almost made the Olympic team," #7) before pivoting to become a "hotshot" reporter, and still can only carve out two afternoons a month for his girls. Reporters are heckin useful to society, but it's also not a career that requires the same selfless consistency of effort as being a pediatrician.
Anyway, my headcanon to explain all that: their parents have traditional ideas about traditional roles. I'm thinking these are upper-class Yugoslavians who immigrated as teens, then were caught up in the assimilationist zeitgeist once in the U.S. The ‘rents emphasize the traditional role for the oldest child, AKA Steve. He's to provide for them in their old age, and therefore they need him to go the doctor-or-lawyer route. Steve is (like Jake) a rule-follower and a people-leader, never rebellious unless he has a good cause. Steve's also a nurturer who loves kids, so he goes along with his parents' plans... until it comes time to choose a specialization, at which point he quietly shunts from surgery into pediatrics. He fails to mention this fact to his parents until it's already been a done deal for a few years and there's nothing they can do about it.
Dan, meanwhile, has Steve and George sheltering him from the slings and arrows of his parents' good intentions. The first two sons turned out okay (I headcanon George being a marketing manager) and so the parental units will let their baby indulge his dreams in a non-lucrative sport for a while. And then pay for him to get a degree in media studies. And then still approve of him, since he brought them grandchildren, even if he supports them less than Steve.
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thejolteonmastertj · 2 years
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Ranking Of Kings is amazing and there’s a million things I want to say about it..
but I wanna start with this heckin scene.
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That scene.
WHY,
But like,
in a good way.
You see, we don’t actually know much about Diada’s feelings toward his brother, well, aside from, y’know, the fact that he’s willing to harm and even kill him if doing so is necessary for his ambitions. Eheh.
That sounds straightforward, but the other characters, even other characters who’ve done great harm to Bojji, Domas tried to legit kill him, have become complex enough to indicate we don’t have the full story on Daida either.
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Daida has technically said exactly two lines directly toward his brother, “I won’t go easy brother,” & in frustration he shouted out “this isn’t fair brother!” when Bojji kept dodging his attacks.
He has also said exactly two lines betraying any semblence of feelings toward his brother, good or bad (discounting thoughts of what to do about him as a potential threat, which are oddly impersonal for your typical fictional character with family issues)
Once was to Queen Hailing, it’s easy to dismiss his “but I think that would make my brother miserable,” as manipulating the queen into putting Bojji into a vulnerable position. It probably indeed had that ultereor motive.
Then there’s that scene. His outburst towards Domas made NO SENSE, but like, in a good way. Like You’ve Just opened up a puzzle box.
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The fact that pretty much every main character close to Bojji has gotten their big flashback development scene except Daida is the most obvious clue that the show’s holding out on something.
Re-watching early episodes helps you fully realize how much ambiguity there is about Daida and Bojji’s relationship.
So, let’s take those cues and overanalyze the f*ck outta this scene.
Ok, so first of all, it’s hella smart for Daida to identify Domas’s decision as a red flag. He’s rightly upset about that on a personal level and strategic level because as King he now has to work with someone he views as untrustworthy.
Yet, anger, pure unadulterated rage was not expeced. The sheer intensity in Daida’s emotions raises a big question. Why?
He threw a f*cking vase at Domas for crying out loud.
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The thing is I can’t come up with a reasonable tactical reason for Daida to say any of this to Domas. If he was yelling at him in hopes it would frighten him into obeying his order to kill Bojji, the angle he took could’ve easily backfired. So there’s definitely an alternative reading when combined with knowledge from episodes 5-6.
We got two, very brief, contextless flashbacks. Depicting Bojji either crying or slacking off while Daida was working hard. We also see a dream sequence where a younger looking Daida is terrified, watching his “last glimmer of hope” aka older brother lose a fight.
He wakes up from the dream and immediately demands the mirror to help him become more powerful, all but outright saying he’s terrified of the fact that his weak brother is all he can count on, he’s desperate to become stronger to protect himself.
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Combined with the brief flashback to what must be one of Bojji’s few moments of slacking,
really makes you wonder how much Daida’s “ambition” is really just a slightly aged manifestation of lifelong fear.
Perhaps he’s held onto some bitterness in his heart, on how quickly he (feels) he’s been forced into a position of power. The fact that the adults around him are so ready to push him onto the throne that they’d stoop to betrayal struck an old wound.
Emphasis on the old wound part, because he acts like he’s fully accepted his supposed destiny as king. There’s a chance this old wound may be opened again given his desire to “believe in my own potential,” being violently denied by the mirror that’s manipulating him.
On the topic of old wounds and conflicting feelings... there’s also this thing his teacher said. 🤔
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Anyways, that’s one reading. It’s also possible that he simply ‘cares about his brother secretly uwu’ & that’s why the betrayal struck a nerve, but that’d be boring. 😂
It’s possible he was just manipulating Domas too, though that’d be boring for different reasons. 🤣
Welp, we’ll see how the nuances turn out.
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In general Daida’s already starting to remind me of Azula from Avatar The Last Airbender.
Yet while ATLA waited until the very end to make her complexity known, Ranking Of Kings is making its buildup more clear, & starting way earlier... that has me hyped asf.
I LOVED the concept of Azula’s predicament, and loved her as a character, but was always disappointed in the lack of reasonably apparent emotional nuance and of/c how her tragedy was kind of tacked onto the ending of ATLA.
Daida & Bojji struggling to survive being put into positions of power in what seems to be a brutal world far too young (even Daida admits like ‘yo, mirror, I’m still young, chill’ obv not in those words but) is an overarching conflict I’m loving so far & hyped to see more of.
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Oh yeah, full disclaimer, this promo art an artist on the show posted relating to the next episode motivated me to actually write down & post my thoughts. XD Them, happy brothers? At some point in time at least? I knew it.
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