#from the mundane with the fish buying

[edwinas]

I'm a prosecutor but I can't do anything for her? I'm going to take this case. I don't need anyone's permission.

#one dollar lawyer #kdramaedit #kdramagifs #kdramadaily #asiandramaedit #ccnet #asiancentral #asiandramasource #dailyasiandramas #cinematv #tvfilmsource #***mine #gifmine #she included him in EVERYTHING #from the mundane with the fish buying #to supporting him after loosing his father #i initially wanted to make a text post with this quote #this hurts so much more :( #literally my fave couple #come scream with me about them!!!

[cosmocove]

its so cool how lucky i am

#bonk.txt #there are so many things about my life that are completely out of my control #simply because im only 18 so i have no choice but to stick with whatever my mom wants #but also i havent had rude customers at work yet n all my coworkers are so nice n i get paid like two dollars more than minimum wage #in my state so i can just like do shit now ive got money n no bills to deal with yet cause again im just 18 #n i can just like do stuff cause there isnt much i want to do n the stuff i do want to do is relatively cheap #im going to the aquarium this week just cause i can the price of admission for the one near me isnt that high #n cause im going by myself i can just take as long as i like looking at stuff n soaking in the atmosphere #like yeah i still cant get a souvenir from the gift shop cause shits still expensive but wow i can just fucking go to the aquarium now #truly i can just do shit now with the limitations of i dont wanna spend more than like 50 dollars per paycheck #cause im saving up to change my name n i wanna be sure i can cover all the expenses but wow i can just do things now #i am probably gonna have to start like buying my own groceries n stuff in like a month or so but for now i dont have to #n can just use like 20 something bucks to go stare at a shark tank for three hours just cause i want to #idk everything kind of like sucks rn n will suck again but also i am just lucky n enjoying the mundane gift of being alive rn #free equivalent of the aquarium is going to the petstore after work n looking at the fishes while i wait for my mom to pick me up #cause i cant drive by myself n will probably not be able to own a car until im like 26 or something #n that is exhilarating in its own way

[honeygrahambitch]

"I once had a very stupid fight with my wife." Will says as he watches Hannibal pouring the Sauvignon blanc in their glasses.

"Not that stupid if you felt the need to bring it up now." Hannibal said as he lifted his gaze from his glass to Will. Even though they've been together for a few months now, he still felt something inside himself getting triggered every time he would bring her up.

As if she would materialize in front of them and take Will away from him. Again. He was not sure if he preferred it when Will called her "Molly" instead of "my wife". Both felt like the screech of chalk on a blackboard.

The term "wife" however, made it feel less personal since it only highlighted a title given by a piece of paper. Mundane. Profane. The piece of paper was not enough for Will to stay with her. The problem with that construction was therefore not "wife", it was the possessive pronoun "my".

Well, technically she was Will's wife until their marriage would get terminated. But Hannibal didn't want Will to use "my" for anyone. And this has been something which has started from before going to prison and before fleeing to Florence.

Quite territorial of him to gain his man back and still act that way even when they had literally jumped off a cliff together. No piece of paper could beat that.

"It's the wine that reminded me." Will explained.

Hannibal arched an eyebrow. What did Will mean by that? He hadn't even had a chance to drink yet, how could the wine bring back such memories already?

"You know, me and Molly hardly ever fought."

Hannibal blinked a few times and tried to keep a neutral expression on his face. There it was, the name as well.

"I don't think, in fact, that this was a fight either. Now that I think about it, my confrontational style is not what a wife is looking for."

Hannibal looked at him with interest, not missing the way he said "a wife". So general. So unimportant. A wife like any other wife, nothing unique.

"Your confrontational style is indeed too passive for a wife." He agreed. "Passive and acidic."

From threatening him with a gun, to almost stabbing him, to starting his therapy again, to "dropping the mic", Hannibal was sure that Molly hasn't even experienced a small percentage of what Will could be capable of.

Will hummed as he picked up his glass and stared at his reflection in the clear white wine.

"So what happened?" Hannibal asked, now interested.

"She paired the fish I caught that day with the wrong wine."

Hannibal parted his lips slightly and didn't take his gaze away from Will, searching him from head to toes. "Was that a problem? To you?"

"No, but it would have been a real problem to you."

Hannibal felt the need to bring his own glass to his lips.

"You wouldn't have made such a mistake. And you wouldn't have brushed it off. You know, Molly - she's a g&t type of person. So it wasn't that big of a deal to her. And I laughed it off."

"But it wasn't that easy."

"It wasn't that easy and she noticed that it was deeper than that. It was not that I was trying to play the alpha male, trying to teach her how to drink wine. She was smart, she knew that was not my intention." Will said.

"So what followed?"

"The reason why we functioned for those few years was exactly because she knew not to get too close. We were both aware she wouldn't like it if she did. Which kind of sounds pathetic since marriage involves all that "for better and worse" thing."

"An overused statement which people are nowadays taking for granted." Hannibal added. "Your marriage did not entail the "for worse" part, did it?"

"Out of mutual convenience. Since "my worst" was something both of us wanted to stay away from. We had all the good parts. So instead of trying to figure out why I was so bothered by her poor choice of wine, she told me to go buy the right type of wine if I disagree with the rosé. And we both laughed."

"And did you?" Hannibal asked, a bit amused, a bit bitter.

Will looked around the room and then looked at him only. "Here I am, I did exactly what she said. Went for the wine that could be properly paired with myself."

Hannibal knew that at that point every effort to keep a neutral face would be futile. He was beaming right there, under Will's gaze.

#hannibal #hannigram #hannibal lecter #will graham #hannibal nbc #hannibal series #hannibal fanfiction

[seilahscopium]

Please don't look at me like that...

♡ I grant a wish for whoever summons me and take one thing as a payment ♡ 𝐈𝐝𝐞𝐚: How you scared him, but not in the normal sense 𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Dazai Osamu ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dazai Osamu was dashing and handsome, but often made suicidal jokes a lot and was looking for a beautiful woman to be his suicide partner. he was the guy who slacked off and tried to get out of doing paperwork, and very much enjoyed ticking off Kunikida at the ADA. the guy who had many things hiding behind his smile that hurts him in ways you can't imagine. he's dealing with it the best way he can with no help at all.

he was fine, he tells himself. keyword: was because then it all slowly started to come down when you entered the scene. you were gorgeous, breathtaking, and out of this world, and had a cute nose...you were the perfect suicide partner for him! he gently grabbed your hand, gave you a little kiss on the knuckle, and looked up into your eyes ready to ask his infamous quote, would you be willing to join me in a double suicide?   “no thank you” you replied Dazai was going to let out a sigh. no one was willing to join him- “I still have some things I’d like to do. But when I’m done, I’ll join you since I’ll have nothing else to do,” you added.

… ah, you were a literal angel. Your warm eyes seemed truthful and certain with what you said. Alright, he could wait. And maybe get to know you to know exactly who he’s jumping off a building with. that was his thought process before saying, "I’ll be waiting for you Belladonna. Don’t keep me waiting too long now, alright?” time passes rather quickly when you’re around him, he’s noticed. one minute he’s coming to you after getting chewed out by Kunikida to come to annoy you instead, and the next moment it's night time and you two are taking a walk while he talks about the most mundane things. you two just clicked though in a way he couldn’t quite explain. you were something like friends without needing the title to show it. he would tell you things about him on his own when he was bored. you would listen. he would see you out of work and drag you to come get some drinks with him. you complied. when you did the paperwork, he’d plop right next to you. he’d watch you work and you’d eventually do some of his work as well. if someone needed to quote on quote “babysit” Dazai, they would call you at one point when he gets ready to make a suicidal joke in a room full of people, his eyes met yours. it was similar to the first time you met purely because of how he had your undivided attention but there was something else. it makes him stop short, resembling a fish out of the water with the way he opened and closed his mouth. he can't explain what it was. hell, it keeps him up at night when he's looking up at the boring white ceiling. what exactly was it that was in your eyes that made him freeze. what was it that made him stop? and why was it because of you? it became like a puzzle to him. he thinks of each time your eyes were...light. and welcoming. and always listened to him, but in a way that was like you were available forever and it didn’t bother you and- oh. what you said when you first met each other, about having things to do, you always did them with him. whether it was getting a super rare sweet that you wanted to try, writing out a letter to a relative you haven’t spoken to in a while, or even something as plain as waiting outside the music shop so you can buy a new album from an artist you like that just dropped. it was the way you paid attention to him. the way you seemed to care. welcoming him with open arms and patiently waiting for him to come to you until he just leaps into your arms after enough times of practice. you looked at him like… like you would actually be saddened if he disappeared and left your life. that you enjoyed him being around and didn't care if he didn't even know his own personality …this was the first time Dazai felt afraid of someone in a way that didn’t threaten his life, oh but it sure as hell felt like it did you looked at him like you actually cared if he ended up disappearing. it made him feel cared for. maybe even safe with you. who’s he trying to trick? It's obvious he was like a little kitten in your hold. and that is exactly what terrified him.

#bungo stray dogs x reader #dazai x reader #dazai osamu #fem reader

[c4ttheart]

bigger half of chocolate chip cookies, toge inumaki.

hurt/no comfort, unrequited love, gn!reader, no use of y/n. 1.3k wc

someone who clearly wasn’t relevant enough to be remembered once told you that people’s memories weren’t perfect: they had a tendency to remember the beginning and the end more clearly, which is why they had ushered you to speak about the important things that had to be said first.

you liked to think that this did not simply apply to mundane things such as speeches, but to everything in life. for example, you weren’t exactly sure how you and toge became friends. you remembered how you met, how you grew appart and some memorable moments in between. you remembered how and when you fell in love with him and how all of a sudden the falling didn’t seem like a good thing, but the feeling of being in love is absent. it gnaws at your chest, the ignorance, knowing that it was there and now it isn’t.

he made it easy to fall in love, with those dimple cheeky smiles and the way he held your hand. fragile, as if he was scared of you running away, but strong enough to let you know he didn’t want you to leave. you liked to remember how he would break whatever snack he would buy in two and give you the bigger part and not how he looked at you with pity that one night.

toge wasn’t easy to understand in the slightest though. you had to learn how to decipher the hums and the fish ingredients or even the bobbing of his head. somehow, coherent sentences and actual words were never needed to feel like you belonged with him.

becoming friends wasn’t hard either, it just took a simple sentence followed by some heartwarming laughter and you found yourself with what you used to think was a friend for life. the first time you arrived to tokyo jujutsu tech, your teacher introduced you to your classmates. they were all odd, but so were you. you guessed that was a mandatory criteria to be a sorcerer. however, when panda’s turn came for introductions, you asked him a question you had meant to keep for yourself. "do you pee in like, a litter box ? like those people on tiktok who’re convinced they’re furries ?"

gojo had pressed his lips in a thin line, most likely trying to not let giggles slip his lips, while toge had full on bursted laughing. you stood there, dumbfounded at the words you had accidentally spoken with a hand covering your mouth in utter shock. your cheeks burned red with embrassement, and from that day on, toge had decided you and him were friends.

it feels melancholic to think about it now, sometimes you even regret spending too much time on tiktok. maybe if you didn’t, you would’ve never spoken. you knew that even if you hadn’t, you and him would’ve ended up friends anyways. but maybe, just maybe, it could have delayed the inevitable, the whole butterfly in your stomach process.

maybe your mind made some of the memories up, like the ones were you thought he was giving you signs. the ones where his eyes would lit up when you talked, the ones where his cheeks would slightly tint red when he grabbed your hand. dwelling on the past in useless, but the reminiscence comforts you when he’s not there anymore to do it himself.

the falling happened when you logged into his netflix account for the weekly movie night tradition the two of you shared, and you found all of your favourite shows you had recommended him in his recently watched. or maybe it was when you came back to the dorms after an especially long mission and found a container of your favourite food in the fridge with your name on it, because you had skipped dinner. scratch that, it was probably when you pulled numerous pranks on yuta (soy sauce in his drink, glitter in his shampoo, a fake spider on his pillow for when he wakes up, you name it) and he took all the blame even though everyone knew it was both of your doings. love is an abstract thing, it’s quite hard to place a hand on when and how it happened, but you know it did. sometime between the shit jokes and the deep one sided conversations, it did.

you were watching the grinch when you said something you shouldn’t have. that seems to happen to you a lot, much to your misery. it wasn’t the most romantic thing, no, not even the most romantic confession, far from it. being spontaneous was always your forte, and cliche and cute stuff is apparently one of the many things you can add to the list of stuff you’re incapable of doing. toge was always the opposite though, with kindness and care always pooling from those violet eyes of his. definitely one of the reasons you loved him. that’s why, in the middle of a boring scene where the grinch was probably being grumpy, you blurted out an "i think i like you". it was stupid, because you didn’t think that. you knew it, you were sure of it, it wasn’t even a wandering thought anymore, it was constantly etched into your brain. maybe you thought it was minimalise the fall, to word it that way.

toge smiled, with such an easy toge like smile, and he ruffled his platinum hair. "okaka." he had said, and it took a few moments of eye blinking with your mouth agape to understand that he meant 'that’s not true.'

"i’m serious though. i'm ninety nine percent sure of it."

and then he had stopped grinning, and the movie was paused, and the world was spinning and why didn’t you tell him ‘yeah, i’m just messing with you, i don’t mean it.’

you felt the rejection coming before he even opened his mouth to say anything. it’s a pity to think the first time you heard his voice to speak an other word than rice ball ingredients was when he squeezed your hand for a millisecond before letting go and mumbling a "i’m sorry."

it was muffled, you wouldn’t have heard it if the room wasn’t coated with an awkward silence. but it was, and you could feel your heart drop the same way you had fell for him. quickly, and unpredictably. he didn’t even look at you, depriving you of the view that was of his pretty purple eyes. you left after that, because who cares about the grinch ? you’d already watched it over a thousand times.

it was a pathetic move, to leave like that. but again, what is a broken hearted teenager supposed to do when the only thing they’ve ever known is to run away ? maybe that’s why you transferred to Kyoto for your second year.

you think of him sometimes, as you lay in bed with your hands crossed beneath your head. you think about the seals on his cheeks and the furry side of tiktok. you think about the grinch and the bigger half of chocolate chip cookies. always half, never full, like your half filled heart. you think about how his voice sounded because your memory isn’t perfect- the slips and cracks in his words are starting to be forgotten as you stare at your phone, waiting for a call. a text. anything. everything. glitter in your shampoo or a movie recommendation ask. even an amazon link to a litter box for panda, because he loved to joke about that.

sadly, nothing ever comes, and that’s when you start to realise that maybe falling isn’t such a good thing when you’ve been expectantly waiting for him to catch you, knowing he never will. you used to hope that maybe, you wouldn’t have to remember how you stopped being friends because that day wouldn’t come. you curse the gods above for the way your brain functions. it’s always someone else’s fault, never yours. what a selfish, selfish thought. you wish you would at least be able to remember every single nook and crannies of his face. or what it felt like to be in love.

but you can’t. you can only reminisce the beginning and the way you ended it all.

not proofread hope u enjoyed idk

#jjk x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk angst #anime x reader #jujutsu sorcerer #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk inumaki #jjk toge #jujutsu toge #jujutso kaisen #jujutsu inumaki #inumaki toge #toge inumaki #inumaki x reader #jujutsu kaisen inumaki #inumaki x you #inumaki x y/n #toge x reader #toge x you #i love writing angst

[cedarsmoke4]

Doing more thinking about modern/mechanic au Heisenberg: so I’ve discovered that re8 takes place in 2021, which is wild imo, so for my au it’s gonna have taken place in like 2010-15 ish, and then Heisenberg gets like ~5-10 years to have outside world experiences before meeting this reader.

His first run-ins with modern tech had to have been HILARIOUSLY awful. Ethan isn’t part of my fic but let’s say for this au he survived and hung out w Heisenberg in an attempt to acclimatize him to modern living. First try at getting Heisenberg a phone goes spectacularly badly-he absolutely bricks the first smartphone he touches. Then the second. Then the third. Finally Ethan does a little research and gifts him the oldest toughest Nokia phone he can find. This phone is as mundane as they come, but it’s sorta half cursed in my brain so Heisenberg literally can’t get rid of it no matter how hard he tries.

Cue shenanigans of him trying to throw it in a lake but a fish tail slaps it back as he turns away and it hits him in the back of the knee so he almost eats shit. He tries to crush it but it slips out from between the crushing objects and bounces off the wall and lands squarely on his toe (the one time he’s not in steel-toed boots). He ships it away, then the next afternoon the post man tosses him the same package but he fumbles it and the corner hits him straight in the mouth, etc.

Eventually he submits and reluctantly carries it around, hating it the entire time. He rarely gives out his number, and trying to reach him on it without a prior arrangement is like pulling teeth. He often just half-heartedly throws it around hoping it’ll finally break, but it always comes back.

The first time he actually makes a call, he discovers that Ethan somehow managed to find the only phone left in the modern age that still requires you to buy minutes on it specifically, and he only bought a single minute on it as a joke—so Heisenberg is halfway through an important phone call and it cuts off and tells him he needs to buy more minutes. He of course yells at it and throws it across the room, where it ricochets off something and ends up flying back to hit him square in the face.

He promptly magically jailbreaks it and then still only uses it incredibly rarely. Since he’s got like built-in Bluetooth, he doesn’t need to hold it to his ear while he’s calling someone, so he talks out loud to it while it just whizzes around his head, going faster and faster as he gets angrier. Cue finding him in his garage shouting at nobody as a blur of plastic and metal zooms around his face.

#karl heisenberg #resident evil village #re8 village #headcanons #modern au #cedar rambles

[breannasfluff]

Wild turns back to the path ahead just as his foot meets open air. For a split second, he’s frozen somewhere between surprise and horror before his foot continues down, down, down and he tips directly into a pond.

His squeal of surprise is cut off as he faceplants the water, sinking with the momentum of his sprint. It’s not deep; the sunlight cutting through the trees shows weeds growing on the bottom. A fish darts away in a flicker of motion. While it’s deep enough for him to sink, he can easily push off the bottom and rise to the surface.

There’s a multitude of differences that he catalogs between one blink and the next. It’s just a pond in the woods, like the ones he’s swum in plenty of times.

Yet something about the situation; the adrenalin of the run, the earlier exhaustion, or perhaps just the surprise wipes away every mundane detail.

Wild isn’t playing chase with Wolfie and falling into a pond, he’s in the Shrine again.

The water is clear and it covers his head, flooding his throat. He chokes on it but someone is yelling at him to breathe. He can’t, though, it’s liquid. Don’t they know he’ll drown? Someone pulls at him—or pushes him deeper.

His legs, his side, his arm, his face. All of it burns. More than burns. There’s acid eating away at his flesh and he can feel it sinking through layers of muscle, intent on consuming his bones.

Before, protecting Zelda, the adrenaline covered it all. He just—kept going because he had to. It was his duty and he needed to protect the princess. The Guardians existed only to be cut down; to deflect bolts with his shield. To take the hits when he couldn’t deflect them.

Zelda’s screams still echo in his ears, yanking at him as she tries to get him to leave. But he can’t leave her to face these monsters alone. Link drew the Master Sword, so his duty is to save Hyrule. The princess deserves to live a life free of training and prayers. She should be at home with her research and books, working alongside Purah. She should be buying dresses and putting ribbons in her hair, giggling with girls her age. Zelda should be doing whatever teenage girls wanted to do. Not trying to save an entire kingdom.

She didn’t ask for this burden, just as Link never asked to become her knight. Or draw the sword. Or train from a young age. All of it—none of it—

This isn’t the future he dreamed of.

If nothing else, he’ll make sure Zelda lives. He is disposable; someone else can pull the Master Sword if needed. But divine power from Hylia? She is their only chance.

So Link ignores the blasts from the Guardians that fill the air with the scent of cooking meat. The wounds are cauterized immediately, so he won’t bleed to death. Pain is a far-off entity. He watches it fly by like a puffseed on the wind; noting it and discarding it.

Keep going. Running, tripping, falling. Pushing Zelda up again while she sobs. Grabbing her when she trips and throwing himself between her and the ground—between her and the malice.

She screams, but she’s not hurt. He’s the one who landed on the brunt of it. It’s on his face and he wipes distractedly. He needs to keep his eyes clear if nothing else. So much for good looks, comes the wry thought.

Link knows, at some level, that his body won’t be able to keep up with the abuse it’s taking. It just keeps him pushing forward faster. Harder. If he can just get Zelda to Hateno—or at least the fort. Somewhere others can help protect her. Somewhere safe.

“Link! Link!” Zelda’s voice wobbles in and out of hearing. He flicks an ear, but it doesn’t move right. It only makes her sob harder.

“Keep going,” he grits out. His throat is raw, but he’s gripping the Master Sword too hard to sign. When she doesn’t move he jerks toward her, uncoordinated. “Go!”

Zelda runs. Link follows.

It’s too late and the Guardians are descending upon them. He’s taken too many hits and the body he knew was fading refuses to respond. If he can just—stand. Push himself in front of Zelda again; death a few seconds faster is worth it if he saves her.

Just—a few steps.

Why…why is the earth tilting? Oh…did he fall over?

Well, that’s okay. He can just. Get back up. He always gets back up. Yet his legs won’t respond; his vision is graying out. Darkness eats away at the scene and he struggles hard. He has to save Zelda!

Through slitted eyes, he sees her step forward—fearless, strong, and oh-so brave. Then his view is cut off as his eyes slide shut without his volition.

There’s sound—

Noise—

Nothing.

Read the rest here!

#linked moments #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu wild #lu wolfie #lu twilight #botw #botw zelda #botw link #shrine of resurrection #breannasfluff #my writing

[thehmn]

A few weeks ago my friends and I were talking about how our jobs could be turned into paranormal horror movies.

Mine is pretty easy. I work as a cleaner so I spent a lot of time alone in buildings and get into all the dark, dank corners. Places I’ve worked include a catholic school where the teachers had weird shit in their offices and the principal was known to walk around naked where his neighbors could see him, an optician filled with mirrors and you could hear voices in the vents from the apartments over the store, an old private home right next to a graveyard that had been turned into a kindergarden, a huge mansion that was being used as a “club house” for a bunch of rich old men that had a weird round ritualistic room with an altar and thrones in it, and a small office by the sea where seawater filled with plankton, seaweed and occasionally fish would bubble up through the drains in the bathrooms. All of those places had haunted vibes so slap a ghost or demon in any of them with a lone cleaner after dark and you’re good to go.

My friend works as a phone salesman for an airline (not the kind who call other people, but the kind who takes calls from people who want to buy stuff) so her job is ripe for phone based horror like a ghost that communicate though phone calls and maybe even warns of airplane disasters.

My other friend is almost done with their education as a chiropractor. They have access to the rooms where they keep all the cadaver parts at their university, they once brought home a box of real human bones to study, and they suggested that a super creepy start to a horror would be if they had to examine a patient who seemed normal but as they felt around the patient’s body they realized the insides where completely wrong and non-human.

So I pass the thought experiment on to you. How could your job, no matter how mundane, be turned into a paranormal horror movie? (And if you don’t have a job, some other normal part of you life)

#writing prompt #thought experiment #horror #cleaner #phone salesman #chiropractor #capitalism is the real horror amiright

[endcant]

an incomplete list of things that are mundane but that i miss because i don't have access to them right now:

the foods i am allergic to now

dandelion tea

being part of a large team of people

making red bean paste

having a garden that isn't in pots on a balcony. it doesn't have to be big. i just miss the actual ground.

dancing without downstairs neighbors

sidewalks between me and almost anything i could ever want

getting somewhere early

having my own other place where i can lock things away and not just during work hours

being able to feel like i have a positive impact on people as regularly as i did at the tutoring center. but where else could i ever work that i can get profuse thank-yous every 15 minutes on the dot? with my skillset?

fishing with dad in california

bringing maple cookies to school friends in batches of 30

parking really far whenever i go anywhere and having a nice walk to and from my car

serving moms whiskey samples at noon on a sunday in a california grocery store

coffee and pumpkin jojos with my sister

walking a dog

feeding fish

the sierras

hot, dry, yellow landscapes

meeting someone else's older relatives every time i visit a friend's house.

feeling safe in a really big crowd of people

saving coffee for the security guard who would lock up at the art gallery i worked at for awhile. never got his name but i knew how he liked his coffee.

frequently meeting much older people who are currently attending community college and therefore are interested in learning new things

just having free agency to move around in much larger groups of people by myself in general (as a kid in california this experience was mandatory, as an adult in tennessee this experience costs a lot of money and also usually involves friends who expect me to stick with them the whole time)

piano with weighted keys

the scent of peach tea and wet dog at the same time

living in a room that was big enough for all of my earthly possessions and i never had to share that space with anybody and none of my stuff ever moved from where i expected it to be (thanks stephanie)

going to concerts in town

buying lots of books and having enough room to keep them all on shelves

when the creek's biodiversity wasn't obliterated by the city extending its gas pipelines to new developments

living somewhere WITH fences and WITHOUT "i will shoot you if you come onto my property" culture, both of which resulted in an overall better experience for Walkers

an incomplete list of things i have right now that i will miss if/when i do not have them later:

my roommates are incredibly generous and supportive and have helped a lot when ive had money problems

baldur is curled up on my keyboard and occasionally stands up, turns around and lays back down

both of my roommates laugh really loudly from their respective rooms at regular intervals

friend group chats are fairly active right now

the sound of cicadas is really relaxing

there were no dangerous storms for the past few days, so i have been able to go outside for basically any excuse

i have all the medications i need right now

i have my allergen-free spice mix that i can use anytime

i did a lot of laundry today and my back doesn't hurt. my back will hurt soon because i am about to do dishes, so i really have to enjoy this right now.

i am reading a library book about regional witchcraft right now. it is amazing. i will have to give it back, which is a little sad. i want to buy a copy one day when i have the money

i am not yet tired of the songs i am learning right now

all of my devices are currently functional

in general, my pain levels have been pretty bearable for the past month or so

our folding table is really helpful and not THAT bent yet

big lamp with daylight bulb keeps me sane

tall, thin, blessed candle that i got as a gift from a priestess will one day be used up or lost or broken

i have lots of art supplies right now

i have something specific to look forward to that is guaranteed to happen and that i can prepare for all i like in any way i want, but ultimately i'll still "succeed" in some basic way as long as i show up

there is a poem i want to memorize

#mine #its so funny to turn on tipping right now knowing it's going away soon #i'm like yeah okay #no one has ever paid me for personal posts and they never will #sure. i'll set out the tip jar.

[ravenstargames]

would father pride cuddle w me and my cinnamoroll plushy yes or yes and would he buy me more cinnamoroll plushies yes or yes pls consider this question very carefully

YES TO EVERYTHING!! BOLD of you to assume I wouldn't write a thing for you when you wrote one for me! (Which you can read here if you are a fan of Kuna'a like me!!)

Beware of still overworked and exhausted Seyl OTL

✦ One more plushie (Or: Pride buys you a plushie!)

Going shopping with Pride in your world can be quite the experience. You have already done it a couple of times, but there’s still a million wonders for him to discover that make such a mundane task something to remember for both of you. One shouldn’t trust his serene appearance—your lover is a curious soul lured in by anything that catches his eye for even a second, and his impulses are hard to rein in. Today is no exception.

You turn your head around when he loudly gasps, and you find him examining a plushie from one of the shelves. There's a shrewd look in his eye as he recognizes the shape of the many plushies that crowd your bed.

“Darling, look!” He picks it up, a wide smile stretching his lips. “This is one of your plush toys!”

You take a step closer to him to take a better look at the plushie. It’s a white bunny—and that’s as far as the similarities between it and your Cinamoroll plushies go. It’s one of those Valentine’s gifts; a smiling little bunny holding a red heart with the words ‘I love you’ written on it.

You don’t point that out, though, not when he is looking at you like that, expectant, waiting for your excitement to match his. Smiling because of the expression on his face rather than for the plushie, you pet its fluffy head. “It’s very cute,” you agree.

“He seems well-behaved. I think it would be happy to join the others. The orange fish is not great company, I must say.”

You blink at him before your eyes slide to the shelf. Next to the now empty spot where the bunny was seconds ago sits an orange fish that has seen better days. Its eyes are bulgy and poorly woven, and the price tag doesn’t make it much better.

“Allow me to buy it for you,” Pride says then, carrying the bunny against the crook of his arm protectively. “It would make a fine addition to your collection.”

Before you can think of protesting, he’s already walking away and up to the clerk on the other side of the hallway. You can faintly hear him ask, “Excuse me, could I please acquire this?”, followed by the good-natured chuckle of the clerk, who guides him to the cashier.

Part of you wants to stop him. There’s no need to buy you anything and you have way more plushies than your bed can shelter, but yet, as you watch him get in line, you stay put. You are not about to ruin his excitement, not in a million years. You will make sure this bunny gets as much love as the rest.

#lost in limbo #li asks #silly little thing #father pride

[homestuck-archive]

HOMESTUCK NEWS UPDATE!

"Hi, James here. Hope you had a good holiday! New year, new me! New you! Whatever, man! We got the usual patreon updates for you. Wahoo! Did you know that's a kind of fish? I watch a lot of fishing videos. If everything goes right and nothing goes wrong we should have something very exciting very soon: a new website! What does this mean for you? Stick around and find out!

Thanks for coming to our AMA, I hope we were able to answer some questions. I especially liked the one where Haven said he was going to fill Dirk full of Milk and slap him against a wall. Great job team. In other community news, the folks over at SAHcon are having their New Year's showcase around 5 pm PST today. Wow! I'm excited to see what the community is cooking.

We got another great comic update coming mid month, and in the next few we're letting some of the new writers shine. I'm excited for you to read them!

Speaking of updates on things… some of you sleuths may have noticed some changes. I'd like to go into a little more detail about them to the extent that I am able. I also wanted to do this in an official newspost, and not on socials etc, so that there is no question about it.

The contract with VIZ media has been restructured. What does this mean? Well, let's start a little further back. We have gotten a lot of questions about Andrew's involvement with HS:BC and Homestuck as a whole. I mentioned before that Andrew approached me to finish HS:BC. As many of you know a few years ago Andrew stepped back from having a creative role. This has allowed him to focus on oversight, and some behind-the-scenes stuff. A large part of that was regaining a sort of legal control of the brand as a whole.

So who "Owns Homestuck?" Well Andrew still does. Who has the publishing rights? We're working on that! The HICU has a license to do what we want with the property, which is what has allowed us to do some of the more creative things we are trying to do. Is the Website going to be fixed? They're working on that! I have very little to do with that, personally, but once there is something solid to announce there and the concerned parties are comfortable with it I'll let you know. What does this mean for the commentaries? Behind the scenes, some ideas about how to handle the issues with the way Homestuck is going to be published are being discussed. Some of these ideas may include a new way to release the future book commentary in absence of the books themselves. Wow!

With regards to VIZ, as some of you have correctly surmised this is good news for us. It has allowed things like HS:BC and HICU licensing etc to happen, as well as the SAHcon license. Hopefully, this can also include some additional fan-friendly licenses Andrew is considering. This all will take time to fully unfold so more details will be forthcoming about what this means for Homestuck as a whole. All in all, I think we are in for an exciting year.

Man what else is goin on? Some good news on the Vinyl is that I talked to the printer and with such an overwhelming response from you guys, instead of a simple Best Of EP, we actually want to try and do a print of Vol. 1-4. This makes all my very scientific and organized data gathering completely useless. I am humbled by something new and mundane every day. Anyway, this represents a completely different beast logistically, but as a fan of those tracks I am very very excited about that. I will Literally buy a Record Player for this. "James, you don't own a record player?" No! What do I look like, an old man? Please don't answer that. (Yes James, you do. -Homestuck Archive, 2024.)

This month (January 2024) we are also going to start seeing some of the bonus content go public. I ran a poll for the Patrons, and the general consensus is that after 2 months, they're ok with the bonus content going public. This includes Bonus strips, the Illustrations, and the commentary. They're really fun to do, so I hope you guys are into it. If you want to see these as soon as they go up, they are available to subscribers. Thank you for that, btw. It means the world to be able to pay some of my team's bills. Look at me, getting all sappy on New Year's Day. Maybe it really is a new year and a new me..."

SUMMARY -

New HS:BC Website in the works, with some new features.

Update mid-month as usual. Some of the newer Team Writers.

VIZ deal has been "restructured." (that's good for us)

Andrew still "Owns Homestuck."

Working on a solution to homestuck dot com debacle.

There are plans for commentary.

Homestuck Vinyl will be Vol. 1-4, pending some light Logistical Upkeep.

Patreon Bonuses from November will be going public this month.

#homestuck #hs #413 #fyp #homestuck news #news #hs2 #homestuck archive #homestuck 2

[euphorajeon]

a/n: you = jeongguk, i = reader

“Oh, there’s a vending machine! Let me grab a snack real quick.”

Your excitement upon spotting the big, rectangular object amazes me, not because it is childish, but because even something so mundane like a machine filled with snacks can make your eyes gleam in glee.

Sometimes I envy you and your ability to appreciate even the tiniest of things as if you’re seeing the world through the eyes of a seven year-old. Nonchalant to the harsh realities the world has shown you time and time again, acting like they don’t affect you.

How do you do that? How do you be the white in the black we call reality? How do you maintain that level of innocence, seemingly untainted in a world full of ink splatches?

Now I’m rambling, just because you’re excited to see a vending machine.

Speaking of black, you’re currently trying to purchase some bags of chips by sliding your black card in the card reader. I watch in amusement as the machine does nothing, making you repeat the action of sliding your card several times, to no avail.

You turn your head around and your eyes catch mine, round in confusion and a tiny bit of frustration.

“It won’t accept my card,” you say in an almost angry whisper, holding up said card as if it was the culprit of this whole thing.

“Let me—“

I snatch the black object from your hand, quickly doing the motion that you have repeatedly done in the past few minutes. The machine still doesn’t respond, and the words slide a credit card on the card reader start to feel like they’re mocking me right in the face.

“Your card’s broken,” I deadpan, handing it back to you who accepts it with an open mouth in a silent the-audacity.

As i reach for my wallet to fish for my own card, you hurriedly splutter a defense statement of but it’s never been rejected before!

I shrug, pulling out my credit card that looks really cheap compared to yours, the red plastic shining dully in the harsh lighting of the room. The black card that’s still in your hand glows in all its sleek glory, giving a pitiful glance at mine that resembles a chicken.

The machine lets out a beep!, signalling that my card is accepted and you’re now free to select the snacks you’ve been eyeing for the past fifteen minutes.

“Hurry, we have a plane to catch.” I nudge your shoulder when you make no move to choose a snack.

You give one last glance of betrayal at your black card™ before finally pressing the buttons that correspond to the snacks you want. I can’t help but notice that you select my favorite ones as well, without my even voicing it aloud.

“Bill me,” you say while handing me my snacks, keeping yours safe in your arms. “I can’t believe a vending embarrassed me by letting you pay for me.”

I chuckle as we step away from the machine, tearing open my bag of chips and offering you some.

“Chill, you can pay me back by letting me sleep on your shoulder on the plane.”

My answer makes you grumble under your breath, something about how I always do that anyway without you needing to pay any debt to me. I grin as we find ourselves seats to settle while waiting.

“But, hey!” I slap your shoulder once realization hits me. “I can’t believe you’re too rich to buy from a vending machine!”

I laugh at your demise, and you shove me playfully to show that you’re not actually mad that I laughed at your face for being rich.

“Can’t believe I lost to a vending machine.” You seem to stop, but then adds as an afterthought: “And you.”

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean!”

And as we play fight with each other, I silently wish that it will always be like this. Simple, innocent, pure, without being tainted by the glaring difference of dull red and sleek black.

august 18th, 2020

masterlist | secreto

#bts #bts jungkook #fanfic #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts au #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook drabble #jungkook au #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook oneshot #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader

[thevalleyisjolly]

I was rewatching the Jackson LOTR movies again, and I realized that the Sméagol origin sequence at the start of Return of the King is, in many ways, a thematic replacement for the Scouring of the Shire in the books.

So for Jackson movies only fans, the Scouring of the Shire is a plot line in the books where Saruman mounted a takeover of the Shire after escaping Isengard.  He used Hobbit agents to secretly buy up land, businesses, and homes in the Shire and essentially industrialize the whole place, and hired ruffians to violently enforce his rule once he solidified power. Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin come back from their quest and lead a Hobbit rebellion to scour the Shire of Saruman. Not included in the Jackson movies for obvious reasons since it would have extended the film at least an hour more, but I do suspect that the visions Frodo sees in the Mirror of Galadriel back in Fellowship of the Ring were preliminary scenes shot back when they weren't sure if they were going to include the Scouring or not.

Something that the Scouring did in the books was really show the mundane, ordinary side of evil, the sort of evil that you'd see around you every day. Most of us have never fought against a Dark Lord or journeyed to a volcano to destroy an evil magic ring...but many of us have seen or felt the effects of corporate corruption. Gentrification. Environmental damage. The sort of grubby, boring evil you can't stab with a sword and have done with, but which will kill you nevertheless.

And one of the things about the Scouring was that Saruman was only working with what was already there. Sure, by the end, he was the primary antagonist behind everything, but at the start, he was mostly backing ambitious Hobbits with a mind for profit and wealth and power at their neighbours' cost. The evil wasn't brought into the Shire by Saruman, although he was the more obvious manifestation of it and he enabled harm on a much bigger scale than before. But the potential of evil, the subtle, mundane evil, was within the Hobbits all along.

Hobbits may be hardy folk and not prone in general to great acts good or bad, but they are not inherently more moral or incorruptible than other races in Middle Earth. Like anyone else, they have the same potential to choose good or evil, and the only difference is that until Bilbo, those choices generally did not affect all of Middle Earth. Which is one of the things the Scouring really made visceral, that the destruction and harm in the Shire was in part the responsibility of ordinary Hobbits. Hobbits who bought up land and tore down trees, Hobbits who chose to support Saruman or else do nothing, Hobbits who were ordinary people who convinced themselves it wasn't their responsibility to deal with what was happening around them.

(There were Hobbits who made a stand too, before Frodo returned.  Freddy Bolger, Will Whitfoot, the Tooks collectively launching a guerilla warfare campaign, and my personal favourite, Lobelia Sackville-Baggins.  I mean, she was an elderly woman who could have stayed “safe” as one of the “privileged” Hobbits, being Lotho’s mother, but instead, she took on ruffians literally twice her size and half her age with only her umbrella.  Although it is important to note that the latter two only took action once things began to affect them personally)

The Scouring didn't make it into the movies. But the Sméagol and Déagol scene did, and I think it attempts to do a similar thing in regards to the mundanity of evil and the de-sanctification of Hobbits.

Sméagol and Déagol are Stoors, who are kin to Hobbits. This is crucial, this kinship is something that the movies come back to time and time again, from Gandalf first bringing it up in Moria to Frodo looking at Gollum and seeing the razor thin line between them. Sméagol and Déagol were Hobbits, or close enough, and in a matter of minutes, a simple fishing trip turns into murder.

(I really have to applaud Thomas Robins, the actor for Déagol, and his acting in this scene, you just see how his face turns in an instant upon seeing the Ring)

Characters in both the books and the movies (not to mention the fandom) often take a sort of idealized view of Hobbits.  Part of this is due to the fact that Hobbits have been so long isolated from the rest of the world that they’ve become creatures of legend and myth.  They’re literally old wives’ tales in Rohan, and probably in other places as well.  When people do come to know of Hobbits, they remark on their hardiness and resilience, or think of them as some kind of idyllic, ignorant, even childish race.  This supposedly makes them more innocent and incorruptible than anyone else, as if being a Hobbit automatically endows one with the ability to resist evil because they're too simple and unworldly to be tempted by it.

And yet as the Scouring showed, and as the Sméagol origin sequence showed as well, that isn't true. Hobbits are just as susceptible to temptation and greed and violence as anyone else. Some choose to follow those impulses, as Sméagol and Déagol did. Some choose not to. Some struggle with those choices. There isn't a simple line of "Good Hobbits, bad Hobbits," Sméagol isn't some outlier in a peaceful race. Rather, I'd argue that Sméagol is an example of the potential inside each Hobbit, each person, taken to the extreme with the encouragement of the Ring. It could theoretically have been any Hobbit who went fishing and found the Ring and killed for it, a point visualized by that shot in FOTR when Bilbo sees Frodo with the Ring and momentarily takes on Gollum’s appearance, by that deleted scene where movie!Faramir threatens to take the Ring and Frodo's face turns into Gollum's. 

(As a side note, I love that analysis someone once did of the Ring amplifying what qualities and abilities its bearer already has, with its evil coming from the corruption and misuse of those enhanced abilities and the desire for even greater power).

The Sméagol and Déagol scene doesn’t just show us where Sméagol came from, but it demonstrates that no one is immune to the Ring's temptation or to evil by some innate virtue of birth. (Except for Tom Bombadil apparently, but who knows what the fuck he is!) Hobbits are people like anyone else. They do have less incentive to take the Ring than most.  Environment plays a role, and it's not so tempting to be a powerful warrior or leader when your home isn't under threat, you have plenty to eat, and all seems to be right with the world. But they still have to choose between doing good and doing evil, and Hobbits are not inherently predisposed towards sticking with the former.

Which I think makes Frodo's journey that much richer and more complex when you realize that it isn't about the slow corruption of a good-hearted Hobbit (although he is a good-hearted Hobbit), but about an ordinary Hobbit who struggles every hour of the day and night with the literal manifestation of evil asking him to make a choice between self-interest and selflessness. And he chooses selflessness, every single time with every step he takes towards Mount Doom, until he can't choose it anymore, until both choices are self destruction. Destroy the Ring, and destroy the only purpose he has left for living, the one reason he's still on this earth. Keep the Ring, and destroy himself. Both choices will claim his life in one way or another. In that primordial moment, everything in the world stripped away except for that last fragment of self and the wheel of fire, what choice could any of us honestly say we would make?

TL;DR *insert Ursula Le Guin quote about the banality of evil* Hobbits, like everyone else, have the same potential and the same choice for good or evil. Of course, Lord of the Rings doesn't always succeed in making it clear that this is a choice, that no one is especially prone or immune to evil because of their race (I will fistfight Tolkien myself over “evil” races, come here Jirt, I got some assigned readings about racism for you).  But it does present a varied depiction of evil in many forms, from big conceptualizations like the Devil-figure of Sauron to more concrete but still big-picture war and suffering to the smaller yet no less harmful evil of individual selfishness and greed.

#lord of the rings #smeagol #deagol #frodo baggins #lotr #lotr meta

[burnwater13]

Well, Greef Karga was good to his word and sent a crew over to pick up all the set pieces, flats, and other decorations Grogu and the Mandalorian had made over the last day or two. Grogu had been amazed to see how much of it there was. It was almost as if they were recreating that whole laboratory place from the destroyed Imp base. 

Grogu had only wanted a few pieces to give off the creepy vibe that place still had. He certainly hadn’t intended to build a replica of the cloning console or a whole cloning chamber. He didn’t even remember asking R5 to get him the Spaarti cylinders. But when he reviewed his list, they were right there with a little green check mark next to them. 

Grogu wondered how many other things he had designed and built without knowing about it. Probably more than one. He checked the list while his dad was packing some things up for them so they could supervise the installation at the civic office complex. He was glad that his dad had thought of that. He was still so discombobulated after discovering that he’d done a bunch of work he didn’t remember, he didn’t trust himself to do anything more complex then review the list. 

Apparently, Grogu had really wanted people to remember how awful the Empire had been, once he looked over the list. He’d found the descriptions for the Emperor’s Throne Room, the high security prisoner’s cells you’d find on any Imperial Star Destroyer or Dreadnaught, the diorama for the energy shield shaft used on the Second Sun, and finally, a scene that was just lava flows as part of an industrial background. Grogu had no idea why that scene was so creepy, but it was. 

Those scenes were going to look very different from the ones he remembered designing and painting. Those had been more mundane, like the playing fields at the Jedi Temple, or krill ponds on Sorgan, or even the entrance to the Krayt dragon nest on Tatooine. They were all outside areas where you could pretend that something was sneaking up on you, or where wild critters would be, or where it would rain and rain and rain. 

He had found sound effects for all of those things and thought that would be fun for his dad, because the Mandalorian had spent so much of his life cooped up on a ship and/or in his armor. He’d thought as long as he was telling stories about scary things that hadn’t happened, it would a story about his dad getting stung by a bee at an amusements park, or tripping and falling into water where the fish would catch you and bring you to the leader of the fish who would make you eat vegetables instead of good food. 

Grogu had to admit that story was more scary to him than it would likely be to the Mandalorian, but he had wanted to tell it, none the less. Now, having seen all the scenes from Imperial spaces, it seemed like Grogu wanted to terrify people with real history and not stormy night stories of things that had never happened. That gave him the shivers and his dad commented that maybe he needed to buy Grogu a jacket, since it had been getting cooler in the evenings. 

They reached Nevarro City after a short ride on the speeder bike and Grogu was relieved to see that the High Magistrate’s protocol droid had already started putting up flyers for the event. That was nice. It was printed out in bright colors like orange, purple and green. It didn’t look particularly scary, and honestly, Grogu was pretty happy about that. He was scared enough as it was and that was just because he couldn’t remember doing so much. 

“Come one, come all! Listen to the terrifying tales of “A Dark and Stormy Night’ as performed by Clan Mudhorn. Feel the chills. Feel the thrills. As Din Grogu and Din Djarin tell you how they thwarted Moff Gideon!” 

Grogu’s dad sighed as he read the copy from one of the posters. Grogu didn’t remember writing that but it did sound like something he would write. He was proud of how he and his dad and the other Mandalorian kicked the Imps off Mandalore and stopped that Imp remnant from threatening folks. 

“Buddy, tonight you’re sleeping in my room. I don’t want you waking up and sneaking off to do more stuff like this. You’ll wear yourself out.” 

Grogu nodded his head and coo’d at his dad. He didn’t want to wear himself out either. Now people were expecting an exciting show of storytelling and he wasn’t sure if the stories he’d been working on would do the trick. He didn’t even know what stories his dad was working on because they hadn’t had a chance to talk about it. 

What if Din Djarin regaled the fine citizens of Nevarro City with the story of the horror of running out of armor polish on a day the shops were closed to celebrate the beginning of spring? Or worse, what if he explained in great detail how he helped Grogu deal with an ingrown hair in the middle of his back?! That thing had itched like crazy, but Grogu didn’t think that was a good basis for a scary story. 

As they walked into the civic offices, Grogu groaned in embarrassment. He didn’t remember painting a flat that showed him with the Mandalorian. He wasn’t embarrassed by the artwork, far from it. It looked great. But he’d never worn a black, hooded cloak, and his hands were green, not blue and white like Force lightning and his eyes definitely weren’t red! Uff. The Mandalorian’s figure looked fine. At least to Grogu.

“Buddy, my visor doesn’t glow green and purple. Not even if I wanted it to.”

Grogu shook his head, then heard a voice whisper in his ear, “But it could. It could!” And then he heard cackling and the sound of thunder crashing. 

Oh, no! Not again!

#calendar prompt a day #the mandalorian #grogu #din djarin #greef karga

[honourablejester]

No I mean more like- how do I do a liminal eeriness right? I want to make it properly give it that liminal feel? I can figure out how I want the game to play but how do I give a fishing adventure the proper liminal eeriness?

I mean. A lot’s going to depend on the vibe and the gameplay. IDK. Some general thoughts?

Liminality is about betweenness, being neither one thing nor the other, a transitional place where things become strange and unreal. In terms of fishing, that fits nicely, because the boat and the port are a place between the land and the sea, neither one thing nor the other, carrying strange elements of both. So emphasise that. Have the port, the transitional space, be tangibly strange to both the land and the sea. Fish that you brought up from the ocean perfectly normal start looking strange in the fishmonger’s ice trays. The landward boundary is always oddly fogged. People in the port sometimes just change, between one time you dock and the next. Slowly, at first, there’s just small things different about them, subliminal things, maybe eye colours or a different voice actor, and then gradually, if you want, they can become more overt. Things like that. Those of the land are lured by the sea. Those of the sea are changed by the land. Strange things happen on the boundary.

For some general ambient happenings, maybe things like unexplained lulls in the soundscape? You’re just out fishing and nothing abnormal is happening, but the background noise or the background music just fades away for a little while, for no reason at all, and then comes back again. It’s a bright sunny day and you’re fishing, and maybe something slightly strange-looking drifts past on the edges of the screen. A pod of whales or dolphins, and there’s just something slightly weird about them. Strange things in the water. A ship passes you when you’re sailing into or out of port, and maybe it’s curiously archaic, or looks strangely waterlogged, but then it’s sailed on past you, and you can’t be sure, and no one comments on it. Things just … exist. Happen. That are off, that are strange, and apparently you’re just supposed to deal with it.

Mostly it’s a matter of a slow build, and a suggestion of strangeness, and a lack of concrete foes or causes for a good long time. You just want time for the unease and curiosity and worry to build, without an overt threat to explain them. A gameplay loop based on activities that start out completely mundane, completely normal, and then gradually begin to incorporate weirdness that goes worryingly unexplained. Your fish start changing when you bring them in. At first you thought maybe these were ones caught by someone else, and yours were fine, but you do gradually notice that your catches are changing as they come into port. The people who buy them start changing too. Or … Are they changing, or are you beginning to see them as they always were? Are you changing? Would you notice?

Is it the port? Is it you? What’s happening?

And you might have some people, players, who genuinely won’t notice. They’re just chilling, they’re just fishing. The catch won’t stay the same once you haul it in, well, that’s the port’s problem, not yours. You’re just getting paid for hauling. And that’s kind of cool too. But just a subtle, slow build. Strangeness around the edges. Unease. Then let it gradually grow more noticeable. You don’t necessarily have to draw direct attention to anything. Just let things build through a few iterations of the normal tasks the player does.

Like I said, I don’t really know. I’ve never even thought about game design. But. Some thoughts, if they help?

#horror #liminal horror #maritime horror #ocean

[bugsmoocher]

writing fanfic for me is like writing a really long boring book from 1835 where the main guy like idk buys a fish and has to figure out how to cook it himself or something mundane like that. this will take about 4k words to describe

#tghis post is about bigby darkest dungeon (he is fucking that mackerel UP)