#( * i say knowing i've probably done this before in a different installment.)

[infini-tree]

episodic - part 2

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Summary: Captain stumbles in the dark, the boys are hasty, and Krupp looms over the narrative.

As that one quote goes: it's the villains who act; heroes react. Or maybe it's the heroes who act, with the villains hindering their every action? Either way, there are pranks to pull.

A/N: the series was meant to be comprised of oneshots, the fact that there’s a new chapter to an existing one is just as surprising to me.

what changed my mind? i could not think of a good title for this next bit, so i decided to append it to this fic. to be honest it works out perfectly, as this is the direct result of the first part anyway. to those that thought that the first part was a clean conclusion to the whole thing re: the boys and captain: i'm only partially sorry (and besides, it did end with them saying they were going to meddle further, so...), in reality it was the start of a larger thread!

i haven't decided how many chapters this chunk of story will be, but for the time being i will hopefully write chronologically in relation to this part of the timeline (as far as the fic series half of this au is concerned). so for now i won't jump around the timeline for assorted written oneshots. for now.

——————————–

By the time Captain Underpants reached the man in his head’s house, the fuzzy feeling in his chest had fizzled out. The issue is done. A resolution was reached. They’ve all said their nice words, and it’s fine now. 

The house was silent, save for the TV that he had left on. The living room was still littered in what remained of the prankovation (trademark). He paid no heed to the grown up talk on air as his own words from earlier kept rattling around his head.

I miss what it was like before all this. I know you do, too.

He circled his way around the table before plopping on the chair. The light from the TV practically bleached out the scattered notes on the table, leaving the other man’s words impossible to read. Right now, he really didn’t want to read them. With everything that’s happened, he had almost forgotten that he had just been talking about how annoyed he was at the prank earlier.

He’d have to reply, eventually, but at this moment, he feels…

He feels.

He doubled over and clutched the cassette recorder against his chest. It reminded him of the moment he had recorded– what his sidekicks listened to – and his body seized up even further. He was fine earlier, so why was he acting like this? He had even thought, for a moment, that it was a latent effect from a monster. 

Captain knew it wasn’t. A part of him wished it was, like how he wished things were before.

He glanced back to the cassette in his hands. It was too dark to see through the plastic door that showed the cassette tape, but he knew it was equal on both ends of the spooling parts of it, paused right after that moment. A moment he didn’t want to share like that.

But they were his sidekicks. He supposed that they had the right to know, so it was fine. It was fine.

Captain’s hands shook in the dark. From the edge of his vision, he saw the light that lit up the chair and the living room change. Pale blue, to darkness, to red from a commercial.

His words rattled in his head, both what was recorded and what was said. The letters snare the other ones like they were static clung together– at the same time I don't.  

His mind felt like it was racing, but the only thing on the tracks was grawlixes ensnared in agitrons. He could feel it make a one-way trip to his chest, where it sat heavily.

After what felt like an eternity of being curled up, the feeling managed to fade, Captain quietly peeled himself off the seat. He turned on the light.

“Well–” He floundered for a moment, trying to recall where they left off. It felt like years since he spoke to him. Play it cool. “I think the prankovation, trademark, is an improvement.”

He dipped a few fingers in a nearby glass and flicked the drops in his face. 

Snap. He let the uncomfortable tenseness in his limbs wash over him before it dissipated.

What were you doing for an hour?!

“I was…” He looked back down at the cassette player. “Looking for the cassette. It, uh, got misplaced in the shuffle.”

Splash, snap. The fact he couldn’t feel much from the man felt worse than feeling a dissipating sweep of emotion. At least then, he could try and guess where this was going– as terrible as it felt. 

Awfully convenient timing, the note remarked vaguely.

Captain could practically feel the accusation curdling under the ink. He knew his voice would have too much ache in it to rebuke the statement. He cannot lie. 

In a smaller voice: “My sidekicks found it.”

The ache twisted. He nearly spilled the cup he was using as he put his hand in it and wiped his face. 

Snap. 

The twisting feeling mingled with the prickling hot emotion of the man in his head.

Those brats know?

“They’re not brats!” he defended. “They’re… they’re just looking out for me.”

Splash, snap. No prickling hot this time, just something he could only describe as slimy.

Behind your back? Sounds about right.

“I– I trust them,” he said out loud, though he made no effort to record it. His voice was too shaky for that– he repeated the words until they came out smoother and only then did he record.

Splash, snap. I mean, you didn’t know you weren’t real until now. Who knows what else they’re hiding.

Captain shook his head. This shouldn’t be affecting him this badly– any hero worth their salt knows how villains will do anything to get a rise out of you for any sort of footing. This was no different. He knew this was no different.

Captain grounded his teeth until he swore he heard it crack under the pressure. 

“Even– even if they were hiding something, I still trust them.” A pause. “That was just a hiccup, and minor conflicts are bound to happen. They’ll do the right thing in the end, usually.”

The Waistband Warrior listened through the recording again. The response felt foolproof!

Splash. Snap.

He was hit by the caramel onion emotion again. Sweet and good feeling at first until you got into the acidic onion-y part. It was the exact same feeling that lingered in his chest when the man in his head told him he wasn’t real.

They’ll do the right thing in the end “usually”? the note said. Honestly, you should keep better track of your little “sidekicks” and what they do– ten year olds don’t exactly have the best judgment.

In smaller print in brackets: (eg. Stealing that cassette. You know that counts as breaking and entering, right?)

Something hot flared in his gut seeing the last statement. “They are not thieves!”  

Captain immediately clamped his mouth shut with a hand. He gave a quick glance to the recorder, relieved that he hadn’t pressed the record button yet. 

He brought himself to stand on solid ground. Made his way to close the suddenly too loud TV. Was this how he ran the school? Is this how he thought of the children? His sidekicks?

He swallowed. Forced the heat in his gut to cool. Pressed record. Paused.

“We are a team.”

Splash, snap.

Are you, the note retorted. Because from my end, it looks like you're their personal idiot that’s part of a months long gag. One that may be going stale.

Captain elected not to give a response to that. Saying nothing was not a lie. Plus, the man in his head was ruthless, combed at every dip and rise in his voice and managed to figure him out. If his sidekicks had anything else to hide, then there had to be a good reason.

There had to be.

Captain looked at the sticky note one more time and placed it on the far end of the table. He needed… alone time. Or at least, alone time without seeing all those little notes.

He decided to follow his gut feeling, and his gut led him to the Closet At The End Of The Hallway, cassette player in hand. As he opened the door, his sights were set on a box in the lower shelf. With a quick press to the cassette door, he pulled the tape out, placed it in a box of other tapes he used, and pulled out a fresh– and most importantly, empty– one. 

The lights from the living room didn’t quite reach his little corner of the hallway, leaving him half-shadowed. He was still expecting something to pop out of a dark corner, or for the flowers on the wallpaper to twist to vines. But, the more he was out here, the house felt less lonely. 

Alone, maybe. But in the same way he was alone– with another presence looming around him.

(Or, within him, he guessed?)

Haunted, then? No, that word rattled in his brain like a rock you wanted out of a shoe. Apparently, that sort of thing was pretty uncomfortable.

Captain scratched at his chest with a frown, trying to will the ache to lessen. He sighed. Rocks.

He thought back to the papers scattered across the living room. To the confused looks on his sidekicks’ face. To the scattered remnants of the man’s backstory he could find in this closet. These moments were not fights, but there was a strange weight to these quiet and small moments he never had a chance to parse before. It wasn’t like his usual fare, but it wasn’t not, in some ways.

He’s still trying to untangle this specific subplot.

Captain finally placed the cassette in the player. The Man In His Head would not notice the change. The action wouldn’t matter much to anyone except him. 

Maybe that was the point. 

He made his way back to the living room. Nothing changed from when he left, and yet he was still… expectant.

Captain had contemplated staying for longer– how could he not, with the amount of plot threads he needed to untangle? But the time that stretched out before him was much more daunting than any villain, and he wouldn’t know where to start.

He thought back to the Man In His Head. If he was out, the other was not. Being out meant there was one less evil in the world. But he was a superhero, not a jailer with a key. It wasn’t his nature.

He splashed water on his face.

Snap.

Cuts from one scene to the next was a familiar thing to him. Much more than the endless stretches of time he was allotted in the house. So when one blink later he was somewhere that wasn’t in that lonely house, Captain sat up quickly. He was already getting out of the man’s clothes to get into something more heroic.

“Sidekicks?” 

George gave him a look. “Uh, Captain Underpants–”

“How’re you feeling?” Harold added.

In record time, he was out of the clothes the man in his head insisted on and had grabbed a picnic blanket-cape conveniently on the ground. 

“Well, I don’t feel like I was smashed to the ground, so… pretty good! Now where’s that monst– ack!”

Four hands grabbed at his cape before he could properly fly up. The momentum left him upside-down. 

From his point of view, Harold’s mouth curled up– that is to say it curled down, if he were right side up. “There’s no monster.”

“There’s always a monster.”

Now both of them were right side up-grimacing. 

Captain tilted his head, his entire body flipping right-side up at the motion, and amended with, “Or, uh, at least a conflict.”

“In that case…”

“Krupp’s cracked down on a lot of the school rules,” George explained. “And I figure that this would be a good opportunity to kill two birds with one stone.”

Captain gulped, trying to will away the words exchanged in the previous scene. “M– metaphorically, right?”

“It’s for all of us!” Harold picked up where the other left off. “Even you, after what Krupp must’ve put you through.”

“Now–” George waved a hand. “We were thinking that we could do a rehash of the prankovation, but–”

“We thought he might expect that! So then I thought you could help us out in the ideas department, like you did with the whole Brain Farts issue. Whaddya say?”

Captain stopped hovering. He could feel the stuck rock feeling again, rolling around in his chest.

“Listen, we get it– I know the last time you helped, it was… well, never mind about that,” Harold winced. “Nothing like that’s going to happen this time, we promise. And you won’t get caught. Plus, you’re the only one who can help us.”

“Promise?” Captain echoed, testing out the word like one would test the weight of a projectile before throwing it. 

“Yeah, for sure.” George said quickly, like throwing a hot potato before moving on. He looked up from what he was doing and handed him a plastic bag of supplies. “Think of this as… Free The Children, Part Two.” 

Captain gave a look inside. He wasn’t sure how the supplies connected to each other– he was never a planning sort of guy.

“Ah, to make school fun again, right?” 

“Yeah!”

His shoulders untensed. That was a good thing, he reassured himself. “Well, when you put it like that– what do you need me to do?”

——————————–

But before I tell you the rest of this story, I have to tell you this one.

Sunlight skirted off the remaining leaves around Treehouse Comix Inc. The wind was quickly snapping them up and off towards other autumn-y pastures. They had to bust out some of the blankets they kept up there, but eventually their parents were going to start telling them they’re not allowed up as George’s dad fortified it for winter

The key word was eventually. There were more pressing matters at stake than getting a little cold.

Harold frowned at the page he was working on. The content was fine, but something about the way he was drawing it was frustrating him and he didn’t know why. He set it aside next to the other pages. 

“Ugh,” he let himself splay on the ground dejectedly, face planting into the wood floor.

“Is that an ugh for Krupp suddenly going crazy mode with his rules or an ugh for the Cass-Incident?” George asked, leafing through his notebook and crossing out some of the more half-baked ideas.

“Uuugh,” Harold ugh’ed, which roughly translated to both.

He made his own noise of agreement as he crossed out another idea.

In one corner: the entire fourth grade had been blindsided by the sudden announcement of a whole gauntlet of assessments. Essays in English class, timed tests in math, horrible running tests in gym, but the real kicker was what was in store for science– a fair with mandatory participation. Even the weekend Invention Convention didn’t have that!

In the other: the Cassette Incident (Cass-Incedent, for short). It didn’t weigh in their minds so much as it squatted in the corner of it. It was just one of those things that was looming like a principal-and-or-superhero-shaped elephant in the room.

Harold slammed a fist down to the floor and pushed the sketchbook away. Instead of walking over, he just rolled beside the beanbag the other boy was sitting on. 

“This is too much.”

“I know.” He set his own notepad to the side. “It took a long time to figure out how to make comics at the same speed we did before we were in separate classes, now I’m not even sure we can keep up the same release schedule with everything else now.”

A pause. “Do you think this has to do with the Cass-Incident? The timing is too convenient.”

“What else could it be? It’s mostly affecting our grade.” Then, in a frustrated grumble he added: “Everything lately feels like it leads back to them.” 

Harold said a soft hm, before picking up the recently abandoned sketchbook. Turning to a new page, he started to draw.

“What did he mean by that he didn’t want it to change?” he asked. The doodle was Captain Underpants standing around with the same confused hurt they saw on his face as he found out that they found out. “Like you said, Krupp’s been nothing but mean to him.”

George thought for a moment. “Maybe he’s afraid of things getting worse if they did change. And, well–” He gestured vaguely.

“The sudden rules right after we found out.” Harold stared at the page intently. He started placing more lines; a panel around the Captain doodle, lighter lines radiating behind him. Shadows at his feet. “Poor Captain Underpants. At least he doesn’t have to deal with school.”

“Small victory that is.”

Harold continued scratching out more shadows. “What are we going to do?”

George put a hand to his chin. If he was right about the rule changes connecting to the Cass-Incident– and let's be real, he had a high chance of it on account of Krupp being predictable– then they had to deal with it and the source in one fell swoop. An inkling of a plan was forming in the back of his mind. 

And they could mesh it into the as-of-now half-baked idea they had shortly after said Cass-Incident. 

He stood up and made his way over to the Treehouse compartment where they kept stuff for their pranks. He began pulling everything out and dumped it on the ground.

“We’re going to need supplies. I don’t think the stuff we got is enough.”

The other boy sat up and dusted himself off. Confusion gave way to a determined look; he didn’t need to hear the plan– he knew this was going to be good. “What do we need?”

#mellsian fanfics #sticky notes au #captain underpants #fun fact this has been in my drafts for a little over a year #spoiler a/n: the first scene in captain's pov was originally going to have a horizontal divider between the house scene #and the scene with the boys but the lack of it made sense considering the nature of Captain's character/how he perceives the passage of time #now you too can experience how jarring it is to jump from one scene to another with no point of transition!* #( * i say knowing i've probably done this before in a different installment.)

[alex51324]

Already seeing some rancid takes on Con's new interview about OFMD S2, so here are some points to ponder:

As was pointed out when the strike first ended, we are not owed, and should not expect, complete candor from the actors. Doing press is part of the job, to promote the project, and focusing on positive aspects is expected & customary.

That doesn't mean that Con is necessarily lying through his teeth when he says, " I have nothing but love, respect, and faith in David Jenkins. Trust him. He knows what he’s doing." It could be anywhere along the range from that, to he absolutely 1000% means it with his whole chest.

(And we really shouldn't try to read the tea leaves about which is it, because even a convincing rumor of "Oh, yeah, Con totally tipped us off that he thought it was dogshit" could have professional consequences for Mr. O'Neill in real life.)

But--

At the same time, we do not owe Con (and I'm sure he does not expect) the last word on how we feel about S2 in general and Izzy's ending in particular. Con (presumably) knows things about David Jenkins's vision for the season (and/or plans for season 3), that we do not know. That's fair, but it's also fair for us to evaluate what we actually saw.

If there's something we don't know, which (if we knew it) would make Izzy's death (and the season as a whole) work better, then--why don't we know it?

A choice was made to not show that information, and (given the way TV production works) it was probably a group decision, but the buck ultimately stops with the showrunner. He presumably didn't intend for the season finale to alienate a large (and vocal) swathe of the audience, but it abso-fucking-lutely did, so it's fair to ask what he was trying to do, and speculate about he could have done differently to have the effect on the audience that he wanted to have.

In terms of my personal reaction, I've kind of been swinging around wildly, but the basic throughline is that I suppose it might be possible for David Jenkins to dig himself and his show out of the hole he's put them in, but I'm having a lot of trouble seeing how. Especially if we add the caveat that it's a "this is what was intended and planned for all along" thing, and not an "oops, our bad" retcon.

But I'm willing to be proved wrong about that! As I've said before, maybe the little wooden boy really can pull it off. Middle installments of trilogies are notoriously hard, and sometimes they improve once part 3 is in place.

I don't think this new interview is anything game changing, but it could be a point on the optimistic side of the ledger. Maybe David Jenkins really does have a plan! Maybe he'll even be able to carry it out (even though, from all appearances, the plan for S2 seems to have had an "It's September 1st, boss"-sized hole in it)!

But ultimately, I'll believe it when I see it.

#ofmd #ofmd critical #izzy hands

[beardedmrbean]

I'd be slightly more charitable towards the "the Israeli invasion of Gaza is a genocide" crowd if they didn't immediately flip-flop between that and "but forcibly driving the Jews out of Israel wouldn't be".

"Anti-colonizers" are fucking morons, man.

Can't colonize your homeland, Jews never left, they've been there 3,200 years on the official record depending on how you interpret the Merneptah Stele, which even if it is only mentioning a "people" that would be Isaac son of Abraham which honestly the Islamic crowd probably hates that even more since they claim that Arabs are the "true" children of Abraham through ishmael the kid Sari's handmaiden had with him, never get any mention though and honestly Arabs are indigenous to Arabia anyhow which is to the east of the Levant where "shocker" Saudi Arabia is.

The Mizrahi never left, or at least they've been there since before the Greeks showed up, still a small number of Samaritans as well, they're from the northern kingdom after Israel split following Solomon's death. Genetically at least the 2 European branches of the Jewish family are undeniably more closely related to the folks that never left than they are to any European genetic group.

But ya, the whole genocide thing is ridiculous. I'd be more inclined to believe people actually cared about genocide if they actually looked around the world where that kind of thing is happening in a major way.

inb4: muh fox news.

It's not like the information isn't out there, NYT thing is the only one that's more than a week or so old, so why after this has been going on for years is it still mostly crickets from the peanut gallery.

It shouldn't be a competition though I know, but you'd think this kind of thing would at least rate a mention from the noisy people on the internet.

Gaza situation it's gonna be hamass doing the genocide both ways anyhow, you install a military installation under, in, or in extremely close proximity to civilian structures any deaths that result from taking those structures out are on the people that turned them into military targets in the hopes that the PR would sway people and they wouldn't get called out for using civilians as human shields.

Not to say that Israel is by any means innocent, they screw up and the IDF screws up and innocent people die, some of whom were undoubtedly murdered and I hope the people that have done these things are held to account for them.

But again it's telling that I've seen a half dozen or more posts about palestenian children and it being international children's day and well did you know that November 25 is the International Day for the Elimination of Violence Against Women as decreed by the un, got to see pieces about all kinds of stuff for that day and almost nobody mentioning all the women who were raped and murdered on 10/7

There's people on here that I respect that have a differing view on the situation than I do, different ways to resolve the situation and end the bloodshed none of which involve genocide, so them I can take seriously on some of this stuff.

The screaming lunatics that have decided that of all the ethnic and religious minorities in the world that Jewish people are the ones that aren't allowed to decide what is and isn't derogatory and that anything short of something like 'gas the jews' has layers and nuance instead of listening to what the Jewish people have been saying for years and years and years that both 'infatda' and 'from the river to the sea' are calls to genocide, they don't get much respect.

As for the apartheid claim, why would any country let non citizens vote in their elections or any of the other nonsense people are trying to claim like 'segregated' communities because apparently the concept of 'little' Italy, Havana, Saigon or any of the various districts like the Chinatowns where different groups have congregated to be their own community within a community aren't things that form organically or anything like that I guess.

#anonymous

[sapphires-and-silver-linings]

More | One-Shot

“I would never compliment you just to get something out of it.” “I’m not asking what you’d do, I’m asking what you want."

You and Leon have some time alone in a closet.

Pairing: DBD!Leon S. Kennedy/F!Reader

Tags: Fluff, Smut, Blowjob (Giving), Vaginal Fingering, Cunnilingus (Receiving), P in V Sex

Notes: Hey guys! This one-shot was originally part of a collection, but I've decided to reupload it as a standalone. This is my first ever (posted) one-shot and smut piece! Enjoy!

Masterlist Collection

--------------------

You wake up early that day, a plan forming in your head the moment you open your eyes.

You get dressed, something simple and comfortable, before you go about your morning routine.

After getting ready, you head towards the storage closet that holds all of the survivors’ extra clothes. 

You’re going to get a new outfit today. 

Hopefully something sexy, but easy to maneuver in. You aren’t sure if your little scheme would make much of a difference, but why not try?

You hear your name as you beeline towards your destination, the familiar voice pulling you from your thoughts.

When you turn, you find Leon standing beside you, clearly having to jog to catch up. “Hey, you look like a woman on a mission. Going somewhere?”

You laugh. “You could say that. I wanted to dig around in the storage closet. Hope to find something new to wear.” 

“You mind if I join you? I’ve got nothing better to do. Besides, I could use a change myself.” 

You’re a little surprised by the offer. You and Leon have started becoming friends over the last few months, but he usually keeps his distance unless you happen to be in the same space. You’re enthralled by it, however, as you’ve formed a massive crush on the young cop. 

“Sure! Maybe I could even pick it out for you,” you say, that last part more of a joke. 

“I can’t promise I’ll like it, but you can try,” he replies, chuckling lightly. 

You reach the closet, locking the two of you inside with the hook latch that was installed, put there to prevent anyone walking in on those changing in the small room. 

You ask Leon his sizes and make him turn around while you pick out clothes for him, informing him it has to be a surprise. 

You finish, telling him to turn back towards you, shoving the pile into his hands. He looks skeptically at the items before glancing at you with a raised brow.

“Well, go ahead. Try them on,” you encourage. 

“In front of you?” 

You roll your eyes good-naturedly, facing away from him as you reply, “I’m turning around, obviously.” 

He takes a few minutes but lets you know as soon as he’s done. 

You look over at him, taking in his appearance with a low whistle. It isn’t anything crazy, just an open flannel with the sleeves rolled up, hanging off a well-fitted t-shirt. There’s a pair of bootcut jeans that sit snugly on his bottom half.

“Looking good, Kennedy. I think this is a winner.” 

“I like it,” he responds, appraising himself in the full-length mirror on the back of the door. “Though the pants are a little… tighter than I’m used to.”

“C’mon, with a butt that cute, you can’t keep it all to yourself,” you tell him, giving him a mischievous grin as you get an eyeful. 

He scoffs. “Is that so?” 

“Mhm. Only rivals your face. In fact, you probably have the prettiest face in the realm.” 

You can see a blush spreading across his cheeks, but he hides it with a small smile. “Not half as pretty as you.” 

You quirk a brow at him. “Oh, so we’re lying now?”

“I’m not lying,” he replies, defensive. 

“So you’re not trying to butter me up for something?”

“No, I’m not. Are you usually this bad at taking a compliment?”

“Only when it’s from pretty boys like you.” 

He rolls his eyes at that, exasperated. “Just my luck, then.”

You laugh. “I’m sorry, I was just messing with you. I appreciate the compliment. On a more serious note, I guess I’m not used to being flattered like that. Especially by someone—oh, I don’t know—more on the conventionally attractive side of the spectrum?”

“Really? I don’t get why. You’re gorgeous.” 

“I’m not everyone’s cup of tea, maybe. But when I do get complimented by a guy, it’s usually because he wants something from me,” you explain, shrugging, before searching for your own outfit on the racks. 

“Like what?” 

You give a disbelieving laugh at his naivete. “Sex, Kennedy.”

“Oh… Well, I wasn’t trying to get into your pants or anything.” 

You turn back to face him, a dress folded over your arm. “So you’re telling me you don’t want anything from me?” 

“Of course not!” He seems appalled by your insinuation.

“Not even… a kiss?” 

“I would never compliment you just to get something out of it.” 

“I’m not asking what you’d do, I’m asking what you want.” 

“I don’t want anything from you! I swear!” 

“Hm. A shame. Turn around so I can change, please.”

Looking more than a little flustered, he does as you ask, though he can still see you in the mirror in front of him. He tries not to peek, but he finds it hard to avoid taking a quick glance at your backside, the soft curve of your ass making his fingers twitch. 

“Did you… want me to kiss you?” he prods, folding his arms across his chest and feeling suddenly diffident. 

“Well, I’d never deny you one,” you respond noncommittally, pulling the dress over your form. “You can turn around now.” 

He follows your command and you see his eyes rake over you appreciatively. The dress is flowy, the billowing sleeves cinched at your wrists and the skirt reaching just below your knee. 

What really catches his wandering gaze, though, is the tight bodice, which exposes an excessive amount of your cleavage. 

His face is turning hot as he forces himself to peel away his stare. “Wow. What’s the occasion?” 

You look at yourself in the mirror. “I thought maybe I could use this as a distraction for the killers in trials. Obviously, there are many that wouldn’t even care, but some of them still have… human urges… under all that monstrosity.” 

Leon laughs. “My concern would be distracting us survivors instead. Or worse, garnering too much attention from a killer.” 

“Hm,” you reply, swishing out the skirt. Regardless of its usefulness, you’re going to keep it. “I guess that would be a problem. Well, I’m going to change back.”  

Leon nods, turning around yet again. 

There’s a moment of silence between you and, against his better judgment, he says, “You know, I’ve thought about what it would be like.”

“To?” 

“Kiss you.” 

He meets your eye in the mirror as you spin on your heels, only in your underwear. He quickly looks away, ashamed that he was caught ogling you. 

Unabashed, you stride up to him, grabbing his arm to turn him towards you. “Is that so?” 

His breath is caught in his throat as he looks at you, now able to see your exposed front. You were in a bra and panties and he wanted nothing more than to touch you. 

“All the time,” he admits further, trailing up his gaze to your own. Your eyes are blazing, but not in anger like he worried. No, the look is determined. Challenging. 

Full of lust.

You get closer, trailing your hand up to rest on his cheek. He leans into the touch, entranced by how silky the skin of your palm is against his face.

“Well, would you like to make that a reality?” you ask, giving him an out. 

He would never take it, not when all he’s wanted since meeting you is dangling in front of him like this. He thought about the conversation you just had moments ago and felt a twinge of guilt. 

He’s a goddamn liar. He did want something from you.

No, not just something. Everything.

He doesn’t answer, instead surging forward and kissing you. 

It’s gentle, his lips soft against yours, but there’s a desperation and eagerness in it that catches you off guard.

He grabs your face in his hands, your own bracing against his chest as you open your mouth to him. He wastes no time in dancing his tongue against yours, a sigh trapped in your throat. 

After a while, you pull away and he looks down at you, confused. “Is something wrong?”

“No, of course not,” you reply, a little breathless. “I was just gonna ask if you wanted to take this further.” 

His eyes widen, shocked that he would be getting anything more than the taste of your lips. He drops his hands to his sides and glances at the door apprehensively. “What if someone wants in here?”

You giggle. “Well, it’s locked, so we have time to get dressed. Besides, people rarely come into this room. And no one knows to look for us here.”

He swallows thickly, turning back to face you, “I’ll be honest, I’m not exactly… experienced.” 

“Are you a virgin?” There’s no judgment in your tone, just curiosity.

He shakes his head. “No, I’m not, but it’s just been a while.”

“I’m shocked,” you say. “I figured someone like you would be getting tail left and right.” 

He lets out a soft puff of laughter. “Sure, there have been girls interested in me, but I’ve always been kinda particular about who I get intimate with. I've only had one girlfriend, back in high school. We broke up when she went to a college out of state and I decided to join the police academy. It took me a while to get over her, and I never really clicked with anyone else.”

“Are you insinuating we click, Kennedy? I feel special,” you tease, gently traveling a hand to his neck and caressing the hairs at the nape of it with your fingers.

His eyes are warm as he regards you. “I guess that’s exactly what I’m saying.” 

“If that’s the case,” you respond with an impish smile, backing away from him and leaping to perch on the dresser set against the far wall, “then there’s no reason to stop now.”

He follows you—because he knows now he always will, forever—and situates himself between your open legs, leaning down to kiss you again, even more fervently than before.

His hands lay still on your waist and you whine into his mouth before pulling away, “Touch me, Leon.”

He exhales a nervous breath as he slowly trails his palms up to press against your still-covered breasts. Feeling impatient, you reach behind you and unclasp your bra, revealing your naked chest to him. 

You let out a quiet, raspy moan as he touches you, looking at you with awe. He gently pinches your nipples to hear your noises again before replacing one hand with his mouth, sucking on the hardened peak. 

You pull his face up to yours and kiss him again, vigorously, before asking, “What all have you done before?”

He doesn’t stop moving his hands against your breasts as he replies, “Fingering. I’ve gotten a handjob a few times. Sex itself, obviously. That’s about it.”

There’s a gleam in your eyes, “So you’ve never been sucked off before?” 

He shakes his head, feeling embarrassed. 

You slip off the dresser and he worries he’s lost your interest due to his inexperience before you turn him to lean against the piece of furniture, kneeling on the concrete floor in front of him.

“What are you doing?” 

You look at him, trailing your hands up his clothed legs. “What do you think I’m doing, Leon?”

He shudders as you open both his belt and his jeans, pulling them down to his ankles before gliding your fingers across his already hardened length tucked behind the cloth of his underwear. 

You waste no time in freeing his cock from the confines of his boxer briefs, sliding them down to rest atop his crumpled jeans.

It jumps to attention in front of you, the length and girth of it practically perfect in every way, just like the rest of him. His pubes—dark blonde like the hair that falls over his eyes as he stares down at you in anticipation—are trimmed and well-groomed, which you take a second to appreciate.

You grab his member in your hand and give him one long, languid stroke, looking directly at him. He gasps, those beautiful pink lips parting into a lovely “O” as he grips the edge of the dresser. 

You continue to pump him in your hand for a few moments, using the pre-cum that beaded at the tip to slicken his shaft. 

You lean forward, lips ghosting along the head of his cock. “You ready for this, Kennedy?” 

He nods quickly, practically heaving from the suspense and teasing you’ve subjected him to. 

You smile and open your mouth, taking him as far as you could down your throat in one swift motion. 

He moans, the sound beautiful but far too loud in the small space.

You pull back for a moment. “If you’re so worried about getting caught, Leon, you should really be more quiet.” 

He looks sheepish, but the expression is quickly replaced with one of ecstasy as you take him back into your mouth, sucking and licking as you slide up and down his length. 

You fall into a nice rhythm, Leon’s knuckles turning white as he grips the wood of the dresser hard, trying to keep himself from bucking up into you or grabbing you by the hair and pushing you down further. What a gentleman.

After a few minutes, he does card a hand through your hair, gently. But instead of pushing you forward, he pulls you back. You release his member from your mouth and look up at him expectantly.

“I-I’m getting close,” he says, panting. 

“You don’t want to finish in my mouth?” 

He groans, clearly affected by your words, but shakes his head.

You stand up, palming his cock as you lean into him. “Use your words, Kennedy.”

He scoffs, but is clearly too invested to fight against your teasing, pulling you into a heated kiss before replying, “I want to feel you.” 

“Good boy,” you respond, peeling your panties off of you before sitting back on the dresser and spreading your legs. “But you could at least warm me up first.” 

His breath hitches as he looks at your cunt, now completely bare before him, bringing his hand between the two of you to slide a finger through your folds.

You whine as he teases you like that for a moment, a jolt of pleasure shooting through you as he rubs against your clit in a slow, careful circle. 

He dives his finger into you, curving it at a delicious angle as he pumps it in and out. He adds another finger, the slight stretch only barely scratching the itch you so desperately needed. Regardless, you can feel yourself reaching your peak and you had no plan of denying yourself that. 

To your dismay, he pulls those lovely, lithe fingers completely from your now-drenched core. You’re about to complain until you see the way he looks at the mess on his fingers, his expression curious as he brings them to his lips. He sucks them clean as you watch him, eyes lidded. 

“I want to taste more of you,” he whispers, waiting for your approval. 

“Please do.”

That’s all he needs as he falls to his knees in front of you, pulling your legs to rest over his shoulders. He kisses up the inside of your thigh as he reaches your aching center, desperate for his touch. 

Your eyes meet and he swipes his tongue through your folds experimentally. Your mouth falls open as you look down at him, the expression enough encouragement for him to keep going. 

He tongue-fucks you for a while as he traces a finger over your clit, the motions getting you near the edge, but not quite enough to push you over.

“More, Leon. Please,” you beg in a hushed voice. 

He switches up his movements, opting to return to using his fingers to massage inside of you as he sucks your clit between his lips.

You start rocking your hips forward against him, desperate for release, not realizing your moans were getting louder with every passing second. 

He pulls back and you cry out in frustration, his free hand pressing firmly against your hip to stop you from squirming, his tone snarky as he says, “Who needs to be quiet now?” 

You dig your fingers into his hair and tug his face harshly towards your dripping sex, a gasp escaping him at the rough action, warning, “Watch it, Kennedy.”

You feel him smirk against you, but he doesn’t push his luck, falling back into his previous ministrations. You keep your hand in his hair, your other one formed into a fist and pressed into your mouth, biting down on the flesh there to keep yourself from getting any louder.

Finally, you reach your climax, moaning against the skin of your knuckle as you offer a muffled, “I’m cumming, Leon!” 

A wave of euphoria washes over you, your back arching as you grind yourself against his face to ride out the high. 

He pulls back, fingers still moving inside of you for a few more moments until your legs stop shaking against his shoulders. He looks smug as he stands and wipes your juices from his face, your legs dropping to dangle in front of the dresser once more.

“That was really good,” you tell him, grinning as he pulls off the flannel and t-shirt, ogling the lean muscles of his body that are now fully exposed to you. “Hard to believe you never did that before.” 

“Well, I had to make up for the way your mouth worked me over earlier,” he replies, pressing his lips against your neck, softly nibbling on the skin there. 

“Ah, equivalent exchange. How civil of you.”

He pulls back, his hand now laying against your cheek, his thumb tracing your lower lip as he smiles down at you. “I’m a public servant after all, ma’am.”

You laugh and he chuckles lightly before pulling you into a deep kiss, hushing you. He wraps his arms around you and draws you closer to him. You do the same, your bare chests pushed against each other as you both squeeze tightly, your bodies and lips molding together perfectly. 

You pull from the kiss and he chases your mouth, tugging your bottom lip with his teeth before releasing it. 

“You still want more?” you ask lowly, running a finger along his spine.

You feel him shiver under your touch as he responds, “Yes. I need it. I need you.” 

You kiss him again before letting him go, leaning back on the dresser, supporting yourself on your bent arms. He sighs wantonly as he runs his hands down your sides to your legs, pulling them over his shoulders once more.

He grabs his cock with a single hand, the fingers of his other digging into one of your thighs to keep them apart. He slides the head through your folds before pressing against your entrance, not yet moving forward.

“You ready, sweetheart?” he questions, those beautiful cerulean eyes trained on yours, waiting for your signal.

You nod, desperate for this. “Please just fuck me, Leon.”

He hisses as he pushes slowly into you. You let out a whimper at the stretch, burning so good it makes you close your eyes, your head falling back against the wall.

“Fuck, this feels amazing,” he laments, pulling his hips back before snapping them forward again.

You start with soft gasps, but he picks up the pace, the sound of his moans triggering your own to spill from your mouth.

He seems to realize he lost himself for a moment, gripping the back of your neck and pulling you forward to kiss you so passionately, it makes your head spin, your legs moving to hook around his waist.

“Almost there, sweetheart,” he tells you, but you already knew he was close by the way he shudders against you. 

“Cum for me, Leon. I want you to cum inside of me,” you reply breathlessly, dragging your nails down his back, hard enough to leave marks.

He tangles the hand at the back of your neck into your hair, making you look at him, his eyes dark.

His other hand braces against your lower back as his thrusts become sloppy, pushing you farther onto him—his cock as deep as it can possibly go—as he cums with a groan. 

You kiss him as you cry out at the feeling, the two of you swallowing each other’s bliss. 

He stills and breaks the kiss, panting as he looks down at you. He seems to come back to himself and searches your face for any sign of discomfort. “Are you okay?” 

Heavy breaths beginning to calm, you laugh, pressing your lips to the corner of his mouth. “Just peachy.” 

He smiles lazily, pulling you back into a kiss. There’s less desperation in it, the movement of his lips slow and soft, but you can feel the sense of want that radiates from him. It’s so sweet and romantic, it almost brings tears to your eyes. 

Eventually—begrudgingly—he releases you from the kiss.

He’s about to pull out of you, but you stop him, not wanting to make a mess. “Could you grab that scarf over there?”

He looks over at the accessory, hanging close to the two of you from the left-hand rack, before grabbing it. 

You thank him and you both hiss as he gently pulls out of you. He quickly brings the scarf between your legs, catching the cum that leaked from your now sore sex. He wipes you clean, for which you’re grateful, and then tosses the scarf to the floor, the two of you changing back into the clothes you walked into the closet with in the first place. 

He gathers up his new outfit—the one he just fucked you in, to his disbelief—in his arms, watching you as you grab the dress you tried on and the scarf from the ground.

He looks at you questioningly and you say, “Would be pretty rude to leave it in here for someone to find, don’t you think?”

“Fair.” 

“Besides, I could always use another scarf. It’s so damn chilly here.”

“You’re actually going to wear it?”

“I mean, after I wash it, yeah.” 

He flushes a bit at that, realizing that every time he would see you in the accessory, he’d be reminded of what transpired between you. 

He wonders with a sudden fear if this was all you wanted to do with him. Would this be the only occasion he would get to share this intimacy with you?

You head towards the door to unlock it when he grabs your wrist. “Hey, was this just a one-time thing?”

“Did you want it to be?” 

He’s shocked by the question. Of course he doesn’t. He’s wanted you for months, and if you asked him to marry you tomorrow, he would in a heartbeat, no matter how stupid that would be. 

He doesn’t understand this feeling, how visceral it is. He loved his ex, he knows he did, but whatever exists between you and him is denser than a black hole and burns brighter than any supernova.

“No, I want…” How could he even word it? Could he ever explain this desire? This endless yearning that only seemed to grow in intensity now that he had the chance to be with you?

He can imagine what a life with you looked like, even despite the grim reality of the world you both were trapped in. Daydreamed about it often when he was alone in his room at night. 

He already did his best to protect you in trials, and you often healed him as thanks for taking a hit for you. But if you were his, he could see you fussing over him as you worked on whatever injury he would sustain, and he’d steal a kiss as you admonish him for not being more careful. 

He can see himself waking up to you in his rickety old bed, those lovely eyes of yours half-lidded as you look up at him. He can envision the way they’d crinkle at the edges as he tickles you, making you laugh that wonderful, musical little giggle he can’t seem to get enough of. 

All of it was laid out so plainly before him, but how could he manage to make you see it too? You’d probably think he was crazy if he even tried. 

“More?” you offer, smiling at him in a way that makes his stomach flip.

Maybe you understood after all.

“Yeah, if that’s okay with you.” 

You walk up to him, eyes bright, and pull him into one last, searing kiss.

It tastes like a promise. 

“I think I’d like that, Leon.”

And with that, you were out the door.

--------------------

Masterlist Collection

#leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #dead by daylight #resident evil #dbd #re2 #more

[therottenkingsreckoning]

Here it is, the chapter for which the whole story was named! Really had fun writing this, I'm having fun with all of them.

Don't be surprised if future installments take the teensiest bit longer to get done- I'd had a rough draft for these four going in, but everything past it will be brand new. Will still try to get things done as soon as I can- I'm excited to share what I've made, just as you're probably excited to read it!

~Little Flame, Chapter 4~

It took several more minutes to convince Eddie that his mate really wasn't sick, and a few more days trapped in the house to convince other folks that they were. But when Julie called them up excitedly asking if Frank felt ok enough to come by for lunch, how could he resist? She was their best friend after all!

So, off they went, and soon Frank found himself at Sally's theater, happily listening to the two girlfriends chatter away.

"It must be natural lighting this time," the star declared. "Candlelight if we may. Harsher stage lamps just won't do for the mood!"

"Forgive my saying it, but I'm not sure I trust you around open flame," Frank half-joked.

At this, Sally spun around, dramatic finger in his direction before turning it on herself. "Francisco, darling, I am open flame! If my set hasn't burned down by now, then surely a few measly lights won't pose a much greater risk."

"You've let us help you light menorah candles too," Julie chimed in. "Why would that be allowed and this isn't?"

Frank rolled their eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. "That's different. I'm there to watch you then, and make sure you don't hurt yourselves."

"So you can help us now!" Sally said assertively, stamping her foot down close to them. So close, in fact, that he could feel the intense heat her presence naturally gave off, and they had to admit she was right before. If her natural starborn radiance hadn't caught things on fire by now, nothing would.

"Will you help us Frank? Please?" Julie pleaded.

Frank looked from the star to the monster and back, finally letting out a groan as he flopped backwards onto the wood of the stage. "Fine!" They grumbled, far too exhausted these days to even try arguing. "I suppose I can help you."

The next hour was spent getting candles together from each of their houses and those of their neighbors, along with the various cups, jars, and vases that fit the collection. In the end, they had 34 small burning lights, set up to test their effect in the darkest back corner of Sally's backstage.

"I will say, this looks good," Frank said, bending to light the last candle. "You're right Sally, the warm tones feel...cozy."

"Of course!" the star beamed. "You should know you can always rely on my genius in matters of art!"

Julie walked up to her, giggling, and placed a small kiss on her cheek. "It's what I like about you. You're smart, funny, really pretty-"

"Alright stop!" Frank shouted playfully, "before she gets any more of a big head about it."

"You're jealous."

"Am not."

As he watched the two wandering off to make props, both were practically gleaming (one literally so.) It made Frank smile. After all they'd been through, here they were, happy lives so full of love for each other. Julie and Sally, Wally & Howdy, Barbie with her lovely boyfriend & Poppy with both of her girls.

He & Eddie, and the beautiful child they'd soon welcome home. Looking at the flickering, soft candlelight, their hand gently rested over his belly, heart full of contented joy. "I'll have my own little flame to take care of soon," he thought to themselves.

A gasp. He turned to see them both staring at him wide-eyed in shock, and Frank's blood ran cold.

He hadn't thought it. They had said it.

And now she had heard.

Moments passed in a razor-edged silence between them, mere seconds that felt like eons, and then Frank cleared his dry, raspy throat. "I-I didn't..."

Julie was the first to speak, a few gentle steps towards them & words spoken softly even though he could tell she was vibrating with contained emotion. "Frank? You're...you're pregnant?"

Their hands flew up now, one in his hair and the other making desperate attempts to wave off her comment. "D-don't be ridiculous Julie, I can't-"

"Hey," Sally spoke up now, equally awkward as she fumbled for the right words to not upset him. "I-It's alright dear, I...already knew about that. Or...I'd had my suspicions at least."

Frank stared into her eyes, anxieties scanning them for any possible sign of judgement. But there was none, only quiet and warm reassurance, solid ground on which to stand. "You didn't say anything?" To which she merely shrugged. "It's not my place to say. You'd tell us when you were ready to."

A barely compressed squeal shot out of Julie now, finally breaking the thick atmosphere. "Oh, but is it true? Is it really real that you're having a baby my guy???"

Frank could hug her right now. And they did, holding tight through the dizzying drop in his blood pressure. He was laughing, nerves and relief tangled up together in their head. "Yes, yes. It's...a few weeks along now, I think."

The rest of the afternoon was spent in excited chatter as before, his friends offering all the congratulations, questions and advice they could muster and to which Frank felt comfy responding. As they said their goodbyes, sunset bathing the trio in the same lovely glow as before, a soft rumble of laughter rang out from the door.

"Guessin' they know about it too now, huh?" Eddie asked, stepping out to embrace his partner.

"Yes," Frank replied with a chuckle of his own. "Sort of slipped out when we were testing the candlelight for Sally's play."

"Candles?" Eddie raised an eyebrow at that. "Don't know if I trust her around open flame."

#welcome home #welcome home fanfic #Little Flame #frank x eddie #eddie x frank #frankly dear #franklydear #welcome home frank #frank welcome home #frank frankly #welcome home eddie #eddie welcome home #eddie dear #welcome home julie #julie welcome home #julie joyful #welcome home sally #sally welcome home #sally starlet #sally starlight #julie x sally #fanfic #fluff #stuff i said #Ember's art

[echoweaver]

New Year's Resolutions 2024

Thanks to @nocturnalazure for tagging me!

Also, anyone else I might've missed. 😢 I don't know if there's a way to distinguish being tagged on a post vs on a comment in tumblr, but it would be helpful when I know I was tagged a bit ago, but I don't remember by whom.

What's your resolution for your simblr?

OK, I guess I have some categories of goals.

Modding resolution: Release the Warriorcats Mod.

This mod is really close to done, but I'm in animation muck. I both hate seeing animations look bad AND I'm not an animator. For training interactions, I need multi-sim animations where one sim observes while the other acts, and when I tried to do this, I realized that I have a lot to learn before I can make this do what I want. I need one more good run in a geeky minset, and this thing will be read to at least release as beta.

This thing is bottlenecking other smaller mod ideas. I'm proud of it, and I want to finish it. But the turn of the year has been really bad for high-effort hobby energy.

For those who have sent me asks about this mod, I am going to say something that you should absolutely not apply any other modder, including me, for anything else. Bugging me about this (in a nice way!) is probably the best way to get it finished. Hearing from folks who use my pets mods makes my heart sing. Knowing that someone cares is the best source of positive energy I have.

It's a new year, and some very high-stress stuff in my personal life has improved. I know can do this in 2024.

In my points of low mood, I have wondered if there's even any point to finishing something this high-effort for a game this old. But, like Minecraft, TS3 never seems to die. 2022-3 was actually a modding renaissance. I have built some interest in TS4 at the end of this year, but it hasn't made me even a little bit interested in abandoning TS3. So I'm going to do my best to set that demotivating nonsense aside.

Gaming resolution: Finish the Samples.

I can't believe I actually wrote that, but it could happen in 2024. Generation 8 is starting in gameplay, and in a 10-generation legacy, this is the last "complete" generation.

I will never do another 10-generation anything. There are two many different and interesting

Blogging resolution: Catch the Wonderlands up to the present.

I stopped playing halfway through Gen 3. I originally started posting this challenge on tumblr during Gen 2 when I created this simblr some horrifying number of years ago. Gen 1 was all on Wordpress and is new to the simblr. I've been reluctant to play forward on the challenge until I can bring the simblr with it.

2. What do you want from the sims franchise?

Haha. That's a complicated question. I think I may always be a TS3 player at my core. I send retroactive apologies to every TS2 players I looked askance at ten+ years ago. With that in mind, I can't reasonably expect much of anything from EA on my core hobby.

My pie-in-the-sky dream would be a 64-bit update for TS3 on Windows. That's not completely impossible, but it doesn't look likely to happen.

I'm keeping an eye on Project Rene. EA has given a good sense that they learned from the player response to TS3 & 4, and 5 could be a good synthesis. OTOH, the PRIMARY ask I have from them is 100% offline play, and I don't have a lot of hope. Though EA made the commitment to offline play for TS4, they've been clawing it back by inches over the years, and they even quietly made it impossible to install fresly-downloaded TS3 store content on 1.67. I'm fighting hard to keep my TS3 game at 1.67 because I want to be able to play on airplanes and in places I simply cannot log in. I don't give a !@#$ whether EA can validate my license. They're making enough money. They can stuff it in their butts. So, with that said, I am just assuming that TS3 1.67 is going to be the core of my fandom for the forseeable future, but my mind isn't closed. If TS5 is otherwise awesome, I can branch out.

My biggest hope for the franchise is from the fandom -- that the TS3 modding renaissance will continue. We keep renewing this old game, and as it continues to be renewed, there continue to be amazing fun new ways to play it. Thank you folks so much.

3. Any other new year's resolution?

Getting my Hobbit fanedit accepted by the Fanedit Academy at fanedit.org.

Heh. So, I have a very long drama story about my fanediting hobby. I flamed off the fanedit.org community when I attempted to submit my first edit years ago (The Hobbit, which should surprise exactly nobody who has looked at fanedits). I was floored when, in 2023, I was contacted by the head of that site to apologize for that situation and ask me to resubmit. It appears that my treatment by the reviewers prompted him to clean house and build a more welcoming community. Wow.

So, now my very first edit is under review by the "Faneditors Academy," which is the primary way to reach new viewers and gain feedback in this hobby. The site leader is involved in my review, but one of the reviewers is one of guys who treated me badly the first time, and he's complex to work with -- there's an undercurrent of him trying to justify rejecting me without a review the first time. I am determined to see this review through to the end. I am very proud of this edit. Also, the feedback is definitely leading me to take it the next level.

But I'll be honest -- working through the criticism and revisions is one reason I haven't touched the Warriorcats mod in months. I need to clear my mind and my plate to really focus on addressing feedback, and the criticism level makes that draining.

[Sharing from personal life -- another reason my modding dropped off is that this winter my trans wife came out to my socially conservative parents. We are not disowned, but it's been complicated and emotionally draining. Lighthearted play with stream-of-consciousness commentary is about as deep as I've been able to go for months.]

#echoweaver #memes #new year's resolutions #meta-sims

[pictureamoebae]

hi there! ive been meaning to see how certain shaders alter this specific preset im using, but since there are so many, i have a hard time knowing how the order should go. i found an answer from u abt load order from two years ago, but i wonder if that has changed with recent reshade updates. any help is appreciated! thank u<3

Hi there!

Load order is such a big topic! There are some golden rules you should always try to abide by, and then everything else is just personal preference.

MXAO should go at the top. Then other depth effects like SSR, Adaptive Fog, Depth Haze, RadiantGI etc.

Next comes SMAA/FXAA, followed by any sharpening. I usually keep DoF below SMAA even though it's a depth effect, because it seems to perform better with jaggies that way, but you can experiment a bit with that. I also put the Flashlight shader above DoF because otherwise it can cause a bit of weirdness in the blurred areas.

DoF is a big one to get right. Some shaders can look really messed up in blurred areas if DoF is in the wrong place. The above placement seems to work best in my experience. But there are always other shaders I've never used that you might stumble upon that you have to just test and see how they work. Just try and remember, if something looks weird in blurred areas, try moving it in relation to the DoF shader and see what happens.

At the very bottom should come any film grain shaders, and just above that the Deband/Debanding shaders. Don't put Deband below film grain shaders or it'll ruin the grain pattern.

Everything in the middle of those top and bottom sections is pretty much personal preference. I see a lot of people say bloom shaders (including Ambient Light) should go above any kind of colour correction or colour grading shaders so that the colour grading applies to the bloom. Personally I don't think it matters a huge amount, I've done both before, although that is the way I'm favouring at the moment.

If you use more than one bloom shader you'll notice a difference when you move them up or down the load order amongst themselves as they react with one another. Again, that's entirely down to personal preference and what looks best with your preset.

Then we come to the various colour grading shaders and light/contrast shaders. This is where it's really, really all about trial and error. There's no correct answer, it's all about what looks best with the settings you've chosen. You don't have to stick with a specific load order for them. I often swap things around a bit if it looks better in particular lighting/weather conditions.

If you have Prod80's shader pack installed you'll see the shaders come prefixed in the shader list with numbers. That's the general order he suggests they go in. If you take a look at that it can give you an idea of which shaders often work best in what order. But again, especially for colour grading and light/contrast shaders it really is whatever works best for you!

It is really overwhelming, especially now there are hundreds of shaders. When I started with SweetFX (which came before ReShade), and then early ReShade, there were far fewer shaders. You could still get stunning results. For someone starting out who wants to learn all about how ReShade works and how to tweak shaders and get them working well together it would probably be a good idea to only have the standard and SweetFX shaders installed, and maybe the Legacy shaders too. You'll have less choice, but you also won't be as overwhelmed. Early SweetFX and ReShade presets were pretty much exclusively made with the backbone of Levels, Curves, LiftGammaGain, and Tonemap, with the odd bit of DPX, HDR and BloomandLensFlares thrown in. They're really simple and basic shaders but you can achieve a lot with them.

#reshade faq #reshade load order #reshade load order faq #load order faq

[blysse-and-blunder]

in lieu of packing

11pm, saturday, july 15, 2023

the things i could be doing right now could fill multiple volumes, but i listened to a podcast today about academic (im)perfectionism and am deciding i don't need to feel guilty. this summer's Big European Travel starts tomorrow and I! am! nervois! but i've done some smaller trips recently which helped me work up to this in a way. further media and life musings below the cut.

reading i had a few weeks there where my recreational reading was... a little bleak, in that i was reading things that felt dated and/or formulaic and/or just put me straight to sleep, thereby meaning that i took much longer than i normally like to finish anything-- this was enlivened with two excellent new instalments from two different series i love, anne leckie's translation state and samantha shannon's a day of fallen night.

very very fun now thinking of these back to back. two books were so engrossing, built (and built on) such rich worlds, such good command of the vibes/atmosphere/tone they were going for, but so different! to sound like a book reviewer for a moment, leckie's prose is sort of lean where shannon's is lush, something like that. there's a joke in here based on the meme that goes 'sci-fi is where x, fantasy is where y' but i'm too tired to work it out myself. both of these books say-- so there are incomprehensible beings in your world which may wish to eat and/or destroy you, and some people have found ways to work or live with them, but it is very weird and alien to your way of life. day of fallen night feels more like a climate metaphor, and there is plenty that felt pulled straight from the psyche of the years 2020-2023. both do fun/interesting things with gender and relationships, and both made me want to go re-read their respective predecessors to heighten the feeling of connection and resonance with those other works.

watching mostly dimension 20-- i introduced @yogurtforever to fantasy high last week, and I myself have been working my way through the toy island arc of neverafter-- but here is the place to mention watching netflix's new documentary about WHAM!, of all things, with @yogurtforever and @thehibernatinglentil last weekend.

not being a documentary hound, i never would have watched this without friends, but it was genuinely quite fun! i didn't know a ton about wham! or george michael, which i now realize is a shame because there's a lot to know. making up for it by having the lyrics to their first hit single, the inimitable 'wham rap', stuck in my head for the next 200 years.

listening due in no small part to the wham! doc (and an mama mia 2 rewatch the week before that), i put on a lot of throwback music this week. it ended up being more 70s than 80s, and that got me thinking about how strongly my parents' music taste influenced mine. there are so many good artists from ~back then~ who i have found out about later, because we just didn't listen to them at home? and of the vinyl i remember finding in the basement, you know, it wasn't bowie, it wasn't fleetwood mac, it wasn't springsteen (it was james taylor and paul simon and probably joni mitchell). luckily, summer camp taught me all the lyrics to a bunch of other oldies, and we did listen to the radio oldies station quite a lot, so my education wasn't entirely deficient. i bring this week the don maclean song 'vincent', which i will be thinking a lot about for one reason and another this week.

playing i have, at long, long last, completed my stardew community center. it was a little anticlimactic, after all the travail that went into it, but i'm so pleased. it only took like two actual human real life years! the last thing i needed was a rabbit's foot, and now at last i feel like i can move to the next tier of game play. i remain unmarried, fighting for my life in skull cavern, but now with two small bunnies to love.

making trying to figure out how to eat most of the food i have in the fridge, how to use up things and make the most of what i have and not leave anything to spoil for the next little while, so i haven't really been cooking big projects. i've been 'making' appointments, got my eyes checked, had coffee with two different profs and chatted with a former student about her med school applications, and that's about it!

working on conference paper, which is both a slideshow (graphic design is my passion, this part is mostly fine) and a draft of what might turn into usable words for the chapter i'm working on. naturally i have built it up into the Biggest Scariest Most Important task, and so am avoiding it and finding it miserable to work on. and i still have time! i had wanted to not work on it on the plane, during my travel week, etc., but there is actually time. there's time. and i keep having small breakthroughs, after 2-5 hours of dicking around, which allow me to believe that there is an end in sight. other things to be worked on, for when i have some 'free' 'time'-- newsletter draft that's so very overdue, multiple students asking for detailed essay feedback and grade breakdowns, emails from students asking for other things, recommendation letter, the next chapter that i'm meant to be finishing this summer. luckily, it's a long plane ride.

#in lieu of a commonplace book #ilcb #weekly roundup #the good thing with writing about two books per post is that i can really easily avoid spoilers; the bad thing is that i can't just yell #about the parts in each one in particular that made me yell! #it's a zoomed-out format and normally i like that #but also: these books were so good

[kinetic-elaboration]

September 15: Braven, Second Time

I am really tired, so tired I legit fell asleep on my couch for a short period of time, but nevertheless I had the desire to write some more of the loftverse before bed. I don't even know. Like, yes, if I was going to write it probably should have been on Troped but... I don't have the brain for that. I just don't. I also haven't done anything else in a while and I think I need some variety.

This does not take place IN the loft but it's part of the same universe.

Braven, ~900 words, written in about 30-35 minutes, warnings for just a little bit of explicit content

Previous installments on the tag "loftverse"

*

The second time they sleep together, Raven tells him, "You're a romantic, aren't you?" out of nowhere into a slow-widening gray well of silence, and he almost has to laugh. She's sitting on top of him, and he'd been staring up at her tits, and the shape of her collar bone and the flow of her hair over her shoulders and her silhouette in the dreary winter gloom. But mostly her tits.

"What?" she asks, biting back a smile that's only an answer to his smile, pushing a confused half-bubble of laughter down. Slowly it softens. She touches his nose, the tip of her finger lingering there, then sliding down to bump against his lips. "I've figured that out about you," she says.

The first time was a one-off, the sort of thing good friends just don't discuss, but it opened the door to something that might become habit. He learned what she looked like naked because she brought him to her bedroom once and took her shirt off without warning--impatient as always, skipping over what she did not know how to do by using short cuts and fast tracks--knew the part of his brain that would say bad idea bad idea would be drowned out and shunted aside. And she was right. That was back in the fall after her boyfriend got caught cheating. Seems a lifetime ago now but she's not yet told him if she's over it, if she ever will be.

This one is on him. It's different in ways he can start to name, can't quite pin down. Maybe just that he didn't initiate by immediately stripping.

She'd come over early with this idea they'd go out to breakfast but the temperature had fallen overnight, the sky clouding up and dropping and that heavy, expectant hush in the air, like a storm gathering itself, so they'd stayed inside and eaten the rest of his cereal, then played video games on his couch. The whistle of the wind and the rattle of his windows in the blow and gust of it sounded of winter. He yawned, for real, stretched up his arm and let it rest around her shoulders.

She looked at him like, am I dumb? Do you think I don't notice it?

He gave her a smile that other women would find charming.

But she slid in against his side as she beat his ass six out of ten, threw the controller on the coffee table after and then just turned her face so her nose was crushed in against his t-shirt. He squeezed her arm, gathered her up close and listened to her inhale, and on the rattling long exhale, he slid his hand beneath her shirt.

None of it meant anything except that he was horny and cold and he knew if Raven minded, she'd just shove him away. Tell him to get over himself and shut up.

Now she's talking about romance and he's thinking about her tits, and wondering if she always takes her hair down to fuck.

The question (you're a romantic, aren't you?) is idle and content and hazy with sex, the bedroom small and square and the hour uncertain. His bed, a queen that he doesn't really need, came with the place and barely fits in the room. Around it is a thin border of floor, around and beneath it wall to wall carpet in an ugly gray-green color that always looks dirty, even when it's not. He's been planning to move out of the place for over a year now but hasn't found anything better, and because it was only supposed to be temporary, he never really decorated much: just a single framed painting on the bare white walls, a gift, which he's hung up over the dresser in the corner of the room.

He has two windows, though. That's the best feature of the place: the natural light. Right now they have the overhead light on and the floor lamp by the bed too, because the late afternoon light is the gray-white tone of a storm that just won't break, hazed out and cold. Occasional thin wisps of snow slant by, sometimes. Nothing that will stick; nothing that will stay.

Bellamy can see the snow, and the wintry light just on the verge of tipping into twilight, through the window just behind Raven, the window she's half-framed in. His palms are sliding up and down her legs, steady and warm, and his feet are still tangled up in the sheets of his unmade bed. He's thinking about Raven awash in his sheets and how she'd look if he flipped her right over and landed her on his pillows, and how he'll probably do just that, when he actually wants to come.

For now she's barely moving, only riding him slowly. As she watches him, the smile fades from her face, and she tilts her head and traces the curve of his cheekbone, wafts her fingertips across the freckles over his nose.

"Romantic?" he asks. He means himself, what she'd said, but for a moment she frowns down at him, confused.

Then: "You want a nice girl who will take you home to her parents," she explains, slow and quiet.

He squeezes her leg, feels the strong muscles there, the softness of her skin.

"Why do you say that?"

She shrugs. He wonders if this is the last time, if he should be taking in every detail now, before he tips over an edge, before the storm breaks.

"It's just something," Raven says, "I see in you."

#the 100 #braven #rellamy #bellamy x raven #raven reyes #bellamy blake #mine #my writing #the year 2023 #2023: free write #loftverse

[foggyparadisecandy]

Safe Hypnosis Play - Beware the Jerks

I despise the a-holes trying to convince people to listen to hypnosis files without any regard for proper care.

They always try to sound neutral and un-invested in the outcome but they really don't give a crap about you or your well-being and, in fact, seem to be gleefully rubbing their hands convincing people to engage in self-destructive behavior.

When you hear these arguments, replace "hypnosis files" with "meth" and see how the argument holds up (or, more likely, doesn't). "You need to be open. Give *METH* a chance and just let go and experience it. If you become biased before trying *METH* ... well of course your experience will be bad." "Yes, it's true that some people have a problem with *METH* but I know many who don't. Those people love *METH* and just have fun with it. Until you try *METH*, you just don't know how it will be for you. I say try *METH*." "It's such bull how everyone gives *METH* a bad rap. I've never done it but I know that *METH* can't change the way you think permanently. That's just scare stories and hypes up the desire to take *METH*." "Everyone knows that *METH* can't make you do anything you don't really want to do. If you find *METH* making you think certain things, that's because you want those things. *METH* had nothing to do it so you might as well sit back and enjoy it and get over your hang ups." Some will argue this analogy and say that drugs cause physical dependencies and hypnosis cannot do that.

I'll concede there is a difference between trancing to have a simple trigger installed and files designed with conditioning effects intentionally embedded to create a pattern of programmed behaviors. ARE YOU TRANCING OR BEING CONDITIONED?

Cults can look horrific, foolish, moronic, and unfathomable to those of us on the outside. And yet ... somehow their members faithfully follow along and drink the kool-aid.

Members ease into these belief systems and soon can't imagine any other way of life. They defend their beliefs and actions and resist attempts to pull them free.

Are those people role playing?

Are they all morons?

Are they all mentally damaged (I would argue yes on that one but they probably didn't start that way)?

Unfortunately for those of us who love to trance and escape ourselves, the rules and principles of conditioning have been effectively combined with high production value hypnotic files to create deeply powerful, seductive, arousing systems of interlinked commands, triggers, sensations, feelings, and compulsions to keep you coming back for more and more.

BE SAFE - PLAY SAFE - CARE FOR YOURSELF

Don't dismiss the concerns.

Don't listen to those who would dismiss the concerns.

Don't assume you would be the one person in a thousand who takes meth with no negative consequences.

Assume the opposite.

Assume you need to protect yourself.

Start from that premise with any and all hypnosis - whether it's a file or a one-on-one relationship.

And re-evaluate your choices as you go.

If you found a file or a particular tist "fun" initially and now find yourself feeling the desperate need to come back to them ... well ... you might have a problem.

And that problem might be the simple feelings of a deep relationship that naturally forms between a hypnotist and a subject.

Or it might be a planned conditioning to make you want to come back for more and more.

Be safe.

I know I mention this a lot but if anyone wants, I am happy to help you find your "Rock of Protection" that will help you stave off uncomfortable trances and eliminate bad triggers, compulsions, and feelings.

I've used it on myself and a few others to great effect.

Play safe everyone.

#hypnosis #mind control #brainwashing #bambisleep #thoughts #safe play #consensual

[readwing]

Anyways, here's the books I read last year (that weren't manga or cookbooks)-

The Beautiful and Damned, F. Scott Fitzgerald

Sister, Kjell Ola Dahl (#......like 7 or 8 in the Oslo Detective series)

American Prometheus (Oppenheimer biography), Kai Bird

Matilda, Roald Dahl

Blackmail and Bibingka, Mia P. Manansala (#3 in Tita Rosie's Kitchen)

Homicide and Halo-Halo, Mia P. Manansala (#2 in Tita Rosie's Kitchen)

The Moving Finger (Miss Marple #4), Agatha Christie

The Love Hypothesis, Ali Hazelwood

Ymir, Rich Larson

I'm not sure how to put these in an order of what I liked the most because I read them for different reasons so I'll just do a drive by:

Ymir - Started with the pedal to the floorboards and did not let up one bit. One of my favorite flavors of sci-fi is when the narrative is unabashedly About Somewhere Else. Loved how the protagonist could not move through the story without somehow cutting everyone around him, and I loved the traumatic, unresolved tension between him and his brother. Probably my favorite book by vibes alone

Sister - I adore the Oslo Detective series, for reasons that possibly scratch my brain and my brain alone. It's so dry and uninterested in selling you melodrama. I want to study the way this guy writes his interview scenes; they are the main way the detective work gets done and they work so fluidly. They never slow down the pace to make sure you're keeping up. This was a particularly fun installment, seeing one of the lead two detectives on his own doing PI work after having quit, although the cases took brutal turns.

The Moving Finger - Loved it. Love how AC is just out there inventing characters whole cloth that you'll never meet again, but as soon as you meet them you're like 'oh, wow, you're not just a character you're like a full ass person.' I loved this installment in particularly because the dynamics between the characters were just so fascinating?? Once again, I've yet to correctly guess an AC mystery. Better luck next time.

Matilda - read it for a fic I am writing. Spent most of it getting big feelings and marveling at how completely fucking accurate the live action Mara Wilson movie was. Like there were entire scenes where I was like 'this is the movie, this is exactly what happened in the fucking movie.' Great book, but also wow that movie was a wonderfully accurate adaptation.

American Prometheus - Two things I like in a biography: research and calling out when the research didn't yield anything and/or yielded contradictory records. While I struggled to get through the political back half, particularly the bits leading up to the trial, this book was an interesting look on the development of scientific ethics in the twentieth century and on how today's scientific community today is still shaped by the political machinations of the past.

Both of the Tita Rosie's Kitchen books - it's a food-themed setting for a murder mystery book (which is like it's own genre now, which is cool). Relatively easy read. I think the author is still growing into herself, but one thing that she does well is mystery-plotting. Another thing is food descriptions.

The Love Hypothesis - Mainly read it because I owned a copy. It was... probably more enjoyable for people who like romance. Given that it is a romance book. But I do try to read a bit of everything, because I think each genre has something to bring to the table story-wise. This one had some very nice getting-to-know-you moments between the characters, who had good chemistry, but I think where it was weakest was in giving similar moments to the side characters, who often felt one dimensional. The story beats about feminism and institutional unfairness could've been less heavy-handed. For something that was relevant to the plot, it often felt like the author knew they were supposed to say something about it but couldn't figure out how to say it in a way that hadn't been parroted before, which is a shame because the scenes where the protagonist actually had to deal with those issues played well.

#year in review #book roundup

[mknight0000]

Cross-Dimensional Answers Prologue-Ch 1 (Last Legacy)

A/N: AAAAA I cannot believe this is happening!! So I am writing the events of LL from the perspective of my MC. Hopefully, you’ll get to know her as the story progresses and maybe grow to like her! Before we get started, I wanted to make a few things clear. 

I do want to preface that I am not the creator of LL (obviously). I am taking the story of LL and making just a few adjustments and additions here and there (for example: the setting of the expo). This is from the perspective of how i feel my MC experienced this story and if your interpretation of the events is different then that is totally okay! We all love and experience these routes differently so one interpretation does not discredit another. With the routes being on indefinite hiatus, when I get closer to the current state of the story, I will be taking some creative liberties on how the rest of the story folds out. This is not a story that will completely follow the events laid out for us, but a way for me to finish the story so I can have some sense of closure. Also there may be some instances that I may not fully know how things operate. I will try my best to do research and information digging, but I may have to make some guesses (ex. How a check in at a con works seeing as I’ve sadly never been to one) so you’ve been warned. 

 Listed below are the creators of LL. They worked so hard on the world and I want everyone to show them some love for it. I put a link to the LL carrd as well so that you can check out everyone’s socials (so many talented writers and artists worked very hard on this story so please go support them!). 

I do want to warn you that I am a beginner writer. I’ve only every written fictional stories for a few school assignments and for an application, so all the work I've done has been seen by very little people. If you have any constructive criticism, it is much appreciated, HOWEVER please do not send hate. It does not help anyone out, and if anything it hurts more then it helps so if you have any suggestions, feel free to DM me. 

With that very long A/N done and out of the way (don’t worry it won’t be like this in the next installments), let's get this party started!!

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-Word Count: 2,428

-Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Food, Probably poor grammar (I try to proof read but my mind jumps a lot sooooo), 

-Creators: Dev (creator and writer), Ciel (sprites, cgs, illustrations), Hika (bgs, illustrations, gfx), Lulu (writer), and Grace (writer) 

-Carrd Link

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“Are you sure that you have everything packed for your first day? Your lunch and backpack are already packed, right? Do you have your supplies ready?” I ask hastily into my phone, briskly walking out of my hotel toward the convention center in hopes of being early. 

“Yes, yes i do, you don’t need to- hmph!” the voice on the other side exclaims suddenly. A crash sounds in the background, “Shit!”

I stop suddenly, concern lacing my voice, “Are you okay Tim? What happened?”

I hear a laugh come from the other side, after which I exhale a breath of relief.

“Yeah, I'm fine. I just tripped over my backpack is all, and I’ll be fine today,” Tim says as I hear the rustling of fabric, most likely putting on his school uniform jacket, “there’s no need to worry.” 

I quietly laugh and a small smile adorns my face, warmed by the thought of my caring brother as I continue my walk toward the convention center. As I get closer, I spot signs and billboards posted around the city of Orlando, advertising the event, indicating that I am getting closer to my destination.

“You know it’s my job to worry about you, right? I’d be a pretty bad caretaker if I didn’t. I mean it’s not every day that you start your Junior year!” I say into my phone, laughing slightly towards to end of my words knowing what his following reaction will be.  

“Yeah, totally, the thought of taking the SAT this year is soooo thrilling,” Tim says back, a smile hinted in his voice though his tone is of complete loathing, “Cannot wait to spend restless nights studying for probably one of the most important exams of my life, definitely no pressure.”

He is about to say something else when I hear another voice on the other end of the call.

“Is that Meg on the phone? Let me talk to her,” I hear a voice call from the other end.

“Ugh, hold on! Let me say goodbye to her before you steal my phone out of my hands!” Tim exclaims, frustration coating his words, “Well, Andy will probably hang up before giving the phone back so I hope you have a good time at the expo.”

“Thanks, Tim. Have a good first day. I know this’ll be your year, I can feel it. Just try to talk to some new people today, okay?”

A brief moment of silence comes from the other end.

“...Yeah okay,” he responds, hesitation clear in his voice, “I’ll call you when school gets out, alright? I love you.”

“Love you too.”

“Here’s Andy.”

I decide to stop and stand off to the side as silence fills the call, hearing the phone being transferred from Tim to my other brother.

“How is my wonderful sister doing this beautiful morning?” Andrew asks in a honeyed voice. I stand there, squinting my eyes, suspicion clear on my face.

“What do you need Andy?” I ask smirking, knowing that tone all too well.

“What?? I can’t ask how my talented, beautiful sister is doing this fine morning?”

I don’t even bother to respond.

“...Huh, I can never get anything past you, can I?”

“No, no you cannot,” I laugh.

Andrew laughs into the phone along with me.

“Well then, is there any chance that I can steal some of your muffins from your apartment? They’re the really tasty ones that I love and I can totally pay you back when you return,” asks Andrew.

I raise my eyebrow, “You promise to pay me back? Last time you said that it took you six months to repay me and you only did so because your own husband had to threaten you,” I state.

“Yes, yes I promise!” He pleads, “I’ll even pinky-promise if that helps!”

I laugh, “No, it's fine, you can take some.”

“Thanks, little sis-”

“We’ve had this discussion before, I’m not your little sis!” I exclaim into the phone, a couple sitting at a café table near me looking pointedly at me. I give them a shrug and mouth “sorry” to them.

“Yeah, you are.”

“Being older by 10 minutes does not count.”

“Yes it does,” he says with a smirk knowing he won the discussion, “Anyways, like Tim said, please try not to worry about us during the expo. I know it’s been a while since you’ve had time for just yourself so just please enjoy your time there, you deserve this,” he says in a gentle tone. 

“I will, thanks,” I say, grateful for my brothers’ concerns.

“Make sure to get some sweet pics of you in front of the expo with your cosplay, oh! and don’t forget the gift for Seb’s birthday, you know how much he loves those Reynold guitars. He’ll definitely freak out when he sees its from the OG shop” Andrew said excitedly.

“Will do. Also, you’re still picking me up Friday evening, right?”

“Yep! Meet you at the guest gate?”

“No, on the flight line–yes at the guest gate,” I laugh into the phone. “I’ll call you when I take a break for lunch, love you, Andy.”

“Love you, Meg, have fun, bye!”

“Will do, bye.”

I end the call and I put my phone back into my backpack. I look in the window in front of me to check over my cosplay before I step into the check-in line. My brown hair is pulled into a mid-ponytail with some strands hanging out of the front for style and is adorned with a crystal flower clip. Realistically wearing a ponytail in an actual fight wouldn’t end well but hey, I look cute so what the hell. I have on a white, dramatic, peter-pan collared blouse with adorable poufy sleeves that Lizzie let me borrow for the expo, which is paired with black trousers tucked into black combat boots. Styled with the blouse is a lightly boned, black stay that is tied up in the front. The outfit itself is pretty plain, however, the gems of the outfit include my handmade cloak and the faux sword hanging from my hip. The cloak, a deep, thick, navy blue fabric, layered with a sheet of moon and star embroidered lace on top, is secured in by gold trimmed edges surrounding the collar of the cape. On the back, there is a large, embroidered, golden Starsworn logo. The cloak, alongside my handmade worbla foam sword, was the most expensive and time-consuming part of the outfit. It took many sleepless nights and breaks during my work shifts to complete them. However, paired with the simple clothing choices, my outfit perfectly exhibits design aspects of the leaked art from the latest installment to the ultimate franchise, Last Legacy II: Ex Nihilo.

After my cosplay check-over, I put on the badge that I received in the mail a few weeks prior, and walk into the appropriate line outside the expo hall under a large, tan canopy leading to the entrance of the hall, shielding guests from the Flordia sun. Hanging from the canopy reads a sign: Welcome to FanExpo FantasyCon.  

I can’t believe it. I haven’t felt this excited in…years. 9 long, strenuous, exhausting years to be exact. It still feels like yesterday when I was neck deep in blankets on my bed, trying to distract myself from the collapsing world around me, when I stumbled across that review.

Despite its huge popularity, no one else in my friend group, other than Sebastian, really got into it, so the game has always been a little personal to me and allowed me to become distracted when I needed it the most.

I put my backpack down on the table once I get up to the security station so it can be checked, get my badge scanned, and walk through the metal detector to collect my bag on the other side and from there I enter into the hall.

As I walk in, I notice some familiar art from the previous Last Legacy game posted on the surrounding walls of a hallway. Smells of various food booths are posted at the other side of the expo hall, filling the very large room, and chatter from employees and guests alike echo throughout the area, creating an exciting buzz. Booths hawking various crafts are set up everywhere in the hall, from artists selling prints to various coding businesses and software developing systems advertising their companies. To my left, there is an entrance to a theatre-like room where i assume the main panel for today will be held later on.

Looking around, a a bright, wide smile adorns my face, and for the first time in a long time, pure joy fills my body. I was a little skeptical about coming to the expo when they announced it and released the ticket sales. Today is, after all, the first day of Tim’s new school year, and I haven’t been on a trip like this since before becoming Tim’s legal guardian five years ago, but after some convincing from everyone, Andy and James promising to look after him the next three days, and working extra hours to afford the tickets for access to the Mike Morrigan signing and costume costs, I went forward with buying the tickets. 

This was definitely worth it, I think to myself.

Before I explore the main hall, I decide to walk down the hallway filled with panels of art from various franchises. Various scenes and characters are depicted from floor to ceiling. Some of the art is the official art from franchises, whilst other wall panels consist of concept art and art made by other artists, all done by talented individuals.

As I’m walking down the hallway a familiar voice behind me catches my attention. 

“Wow! Your cosplay is amazing!”

I turn to see Celena, an incredibly talented cosplayer staring right in my direction with her deep magenta eyes (most likely from contacts). Her short, platinum white hair is adorned with an adorable bunny ear headband, which matches perfectly with her light purple dress topped with little bows in the front and a big bow in the back on top of her faux-bunny poof tail. She looks straight from the game itself, making it one of the reasons why she is my favorite cosplayer of all time. 

Emotionally and mentally, I’m screaming. 

And somehow, in some way, I am able to respond (almost) calmly and (almost) normally. 

“Oh my god, thank you so much! Yours is amazing as well! I mean your dress is to die for! Do you mind if I get a picture with you?” I ask, overthinking each word as it comes out of my mouth. 

“Of course! What’s your name?”

“Megan”

“Well nice to meet you, Megan,” she says with a smile, “And what job class are you?”

“I am a Starsworn Swordmaster,” I say, gesturing at the sword I have on my hip as we move closer to get both into frame. 

I hold up my phone and take a selfie of the two of us smiling, her holding up a peace sign. After the camera clicks, I put my phone back into my bag, and when I turn back to her, she is looking at the art on the wall behind me, causing me to turn to see what grabbed her attention, in turn seizing mine.

Before me stands two familiar characters from the first Last Legacy game: Magister Escell Mirun, on the left, and Ayanna Anka, on the right. Though most of the internet is enthralled and obsessed with him, I’m not particularly a fan of the Battlemage and his cliché vain, and scheming personality. On the poster, Escell’s long purply-black hair is tied into a loose, low ponytail and it, along with his blue and green uniform with gold, accents, flows in the breeze as he stretches his pale hand outwards, imitating a spell being cast. On the right, the clever and cunning Engineer, Ayanna, stands facing away from the photo but looking back over her shoulder with her sharp, yellow cat-like eyes and iconic smirk. Her hair, put up into various thin braids, and ends highlighted in purple, lays below her large, poufy cat ears and her brown and gold-lined goggles. Her Ilpheta marks adorn her face on top of her dark brown skin, and her brown and tan striped tail curls upward. Though I love Ayanna’s character, I can’t help but question the developer’s choice in costuming, but nonetheless, I adore her.

I laugh to myself, remembering a past night during Freshman year in college when Sebastian and I discussed…funny ideas surrounding Last Legacy’s characters. 

I decide to let Celena in on one of our comments, turning around, asking, “Hey don’t you think Escell would look amazing in a chainmail bikini-” I stop abruptly. 

I look around and realize that I am now alone.

That’s weird, I could’ve sworn this hallway was packed with people a couple of seconds ago. 

Not only am I alone, but the chatter from the main hall is gone as well. 

“Hello? Celena? Anyone?” I call out. 

No answer. 

My breathing starts to become heavier, and I feel myself becoming colder, a clear sign of my nervousness and fear starting to show. Panic rises in my chest. The same feelings I had that night nine years ago start up.

What the hell? What the hell? What the- No don’t panic, Megan. Just- Just stay calm, maybe everyone is in the theatre for the panel? Or–

My thoughts are interrupted when a small thud sounds from in front of me. A long, multi-chrome staff rolls my way, pushed by seemingly nothing. The staff is adorned by gold accents and dangles, with a glowing crystal perched at the top, encased by gold circles, crossing over each other.

“Woah…is that…the Astrolabe?” I ask myself. 

The legendary relic lies before me while I try to understand my current situation. With the amount of detail this prop has, there is no way this is anyone’s ordinary cosplay prop. 

I look around to see if there is any clear indication of who it belongs to but no one seems to step forwards to claim it. 

With the intent to return this to whoever dropped it, I take a few steps forward, toward the staff, and reach down to pick it up. Once my fingers touch the cool, metal base of the shaft, light protrudes from the crystal laid in the center, and white light fills my vision. I try to move my hand back but clearly, it is too late. 

The hall and all the sense associated with it disappear from me and are replaced by small, shimmering balls of light. And then nothingness swallows me whole.

And then nothingness swallows me whole.

to be continued...

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Edit: Changed a few things for flow and some minor spell check

AAAAAAAAA I cannot believe this, this is so insane. This is the first time I've ever posted my writing!!! AAAAAA

#last legacy #fictif #sage lesath #oc #oc x sage lesath #writing #cross dimensional answers

[contrivedchaos]

Fic writers' 2022 roundup:

I've never done one of these before, but I was tagged by @pikapeppa, so I'll give it a shot!

Words written: 54,050. It's not a lot, but other than the year I wrote my master's thesis, it's the most actual writing I've done in a long time, fanfic or otherwise. I'll count it as an accomplishment!

Smut scenes: Oof. Let's see. 6? We'll go with 6. Across four different fics.

New things I tried: Within the last 12 months, I've dipped my toes into the Arcane fandom and finished/posted 3 parts for my (ongoing?) three-part CaitVi series: Every Small Disaster, Say My Name (Like an Elegy), and It's Psychosomatic. It's been so much fun! Hopefully I'll find another opportunity to do more for this pairing. I definitely want to write more of them in the future!

Fic I spent the most time on: My longest fic was Where The Time Goes. I started Chlodine Week 5 years ago for this tiny, desperately-hanging-on fandom, but never wrote anything substantial for it beyond a few oneshots. This year I spent 2-3 months working on a labor of love that I never expected to go anywhere. It was a fic almost entirely for myself, and so far it's my favorite thing I've ever written. I was so happy when it was finished.

Fic I spent the least time on: The first fic for my CaitVi series, Every Small Disaster. (This was technically posted Christmas of 2021, but I'll count it) It was my first time dipping my toes into the Arcane fandom, and I think it came out swimmingly!

Favorite thing I wrote: Definitely Where The Time Goes. Chlodine will always have a special place in my heart. I can't think of a fandom that's more dear to me than the Uncharted fandom. It's been a light through the toughest years of my life so far. I owe a lot to it, and particularly the Chlodine ship. I don't see it being outranked as my OTP any time soon.

Favorite fic(s) I read: I've read so many AMAZING things this year. This list will be DIFFICULT to narrow down. Here goes:

Violence and Variations by Thisisatree (@dancing-b0nes): The Locked Tomb has made up the majority of my fic and book re-reading in 2022, and this one is no exception. Technically started this one in 2021, but it's still ongoing, so I'll count it. While it's like 60% a Griddlehark fic, and sort of a re-imagining of their lives post-TLT, practically every ship, in all their wonderful configurations, gets their dirty day in the sun. I have been on the edge of my seat for more than a year with this one, and it shows no signs of stopping. Also extremely spicy! I'm so hooked!

Twice by BonesforTime: Another TLT fic, this one's a re-imagining of the events at Canaan House in Gideon the Ninth, with such a unique take on what it means to be a Lyctor and on the dynamics of the cavalier/necromancer relationship. And lore and world-building! Another Griddlehark-focused fic, this one constantly has me in stitches, combined with such a raw, intimate writing style for the smut scenes. Bones has such a way with words, and they continue to amaze me with each new installment. Definitely continuing this one into 2023!

Table Manners by Armengard (@armengard): Y'all know I go absolutely feral for anything by Armengard. Their first contribution to the CaitVi space is no exception. They took me out with a one-shot earlier this year that will undoubtedly be on my fic re-read rotation for years to come. Can't say enough positive things about their entire catalog, so this one is also definitely worth a read. And sooooooo spicy! Whew!

Even The Hardiest Desert Blooms Need to Get Wet Sometimes by Pikapeppa (@pikapeppa): Literally the only writer of MLW ships this lesbian will read these days. Their writing style is just that good. It's so refreshing and engaging that if they decided to author a dictionary, I'd probably read it. I jumped back into the Horizon fandom (extremely late, forgive me) after a major surgery over the summer, and the first thing I did upon playing Forbidden West was dive back into their fics. This one is a Drakkaloy fic, and is not only entertaining, but also extremely spicy. Definitely a must-read!

Your Mouth and Its Flowers by driluth (@driluth): Technically late 2021, but I'll count it. This is a CaitVi AU based on one of my favorite books of 2022, This Is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone. The symbolism! The way Red and Blue are literally Vi and Caitlyn, and are so amazingly portrayed in this AU! Definitely a hidden gem for me to find in 2022! But I'm so glad I did!

Writing goals for next year: I don't have any particular writing goals for 2023. I'm looking forward to the Horizon Forbidden West DLC, so if I can get my hands on a PS VR 2, maybe I'll get inspired to dip a toe into the Horizon fandom. I'm definitely tempted by all the WLW potential for this series. Also more TLT...Alecto is coming in September, so there is still more to work with. We'll see!

#personal #2022 roundup #arcane netflix #caitvi #tlt #the locked tomb #gideon the ninth #horizon forbidden west #hfw #piltoversfinest #chlodine #uncharted the lost legacy

[sigmastolen]

on the phone with comrade d today, she wondered if they were going to make any more jurassic park movies (she wants to get a dvd box set with all the films, but not yet if they're going to make more). and i replied that my idealistic side would say 'no' because they've done the big reunite-the-cast film and come to a story conclusion, but my much louder, cynical side says 'of course they will because they can make more money from it, especially from merchandising' and that endless milking of cash cows for diminishing artistic returns is part of my current detachment and disillusionment with today's media landscape (in which the only things i am "keeping up with" are jeopardy!, the pbs airings of all creatures great and small, my favorite canadian sheep farmer youtuber, and a handful of npr podcasts).

and my thoughts keep coming back to that, and i can't tell if i've disengaged from all these things i used to really enjoy (or at least be very invested in) because i'm busier than i used to be (or in a different way than i used to be), or because of depression/depression-adjacent patterns, or my attention has always been this fleeting, or if things are actually worse. realistically, it's probably a combination of things, but am i using media crit sound bytes to excuse/cover for personal problems? or is it just that i've read too much criticism and become a snob? (lbr i was always a snob tho; there's even a tag) idk i sometimes feel like i no longer know how to act when someone is really enthusiastic about something i used to and no longer like. this happens very frequently with hp because i work at the library, but also because it was such a foundational text for my generation -- so many of my age-and-social-class peers are deeply devoted potter fans, still, even with how much joanne has shown her ass (and even before that, i was the one saying, no, i'm not interested in pottermore or anything else she has to add, my way of doing fandom is ~*~different~*~) -- but it also happens when i have to say i stopped watching got well before it ended, or that i have no interest in rings of power, or that no, i haven't watched the most recent [x] installments of [y] franchise (this also happens with things i still legitimately like). and feeling nothing in the face of someone else's enthusiasm, enthusiasm i would once have shared, is so uncomfortable. it makes me wonder what's wrong with me, why i can't just enjoy things any more, why i have to bring myself down like this, am i broken?

well? am i?

#leaving tv shows or movie franchises unfinished is my new hobby -- #incl. teen wolf leverage star trek star wars jurassic park mcu dctv svu project runway #actually literally every television show i used to follow; i haven't Watched Television since like 2018 #i haven't even managed to finish rewatching some shows for literal years-- #i drifted off in the middle of buffy angel torchwood ctm ent leverage and now tcw #:///////////// #vanitas vanitatum et omnia vanitas #fandom is serious business #thinky thoughts

[abybweisse]

I haven’t paid that much attention to the Mother3 theory because I’m simply not familiar with that game, but I was wondering, if Kuro is heavily based off of Mother3, how much of the story is even original? One thing that confuses me is why Toboso would want to base her story so heavily off of another, especially since that would spoil many plot twists.

The value of using a framework

She's able to add originality everywhere in how she tells the story, actually.

She switches up the parallels and splits them between different characters. For example: she has Baldo in a wheat field, trying to reach his wife and son, and Sebastian just pops up... instead of having our earl and Sebastian literally wandering through a field of sunflowers and following Rachel's ghost. However, this is a trope, by now, so most readers wouldn't even think it's odd, if our earl and Sebastian did that in... say... a dream sequence, either in the main story or a side chapter. She's got Undertaker paralleling a few characters, and one of them, Dr. Andonuts, is partly paralleled by Sieglinde.

There's something else she has done to make her story more layered and complex: Though most of it parallels Mother3, several characters and plot elements parallel previous games in the series. And, of course, there are characters and plot points I haven't (yet) found parallels for! Oh, and let's not forget ideas borrowed from the folklores of various cultures, classic literature, flower language, historical people and events, historical places, anachronistic elements, and pop culture. Combine it all, and it makes for a very interesting story.

This reply was going to be much longer, but Tumblr lost the large chunks of text I'd just tried to save, so I'm gonna try to make this quick. Mother3 (and the whole series) isn't even all that original, as it shares a ton of parallels with Harry Potter (which is older) and tales of King Arthur. The main reason I say it's more directly based on Mother3 is because she openly parodies the game in the first four chapters of Kuroshitsuji, and most of the game parallels I've found come from that third installment.

I can think of three big reasons why she might base Black Butler so heavily on a game like Mother3 (and the game series, in general):

When Mother3 came out, seriously delayed, on April 20, 2006, she probably bought a copy and played it. Enough for it to really appeal to her. There was a ton of hype leading up to its release. And I wouldn't be surprised if it had enough of an effect on her that she'd want to incorporate elements of it into the concept she'd come up with for a story about a demon butler.

She made illustrations for Sebastian, etc. by 6/6/06, right? Not even two months after the game's release. And ch1 was published in September 2006. That's not a lot of time to formulate a story that you hope gets picked up for serialization. The first five chapters, or at least the first four, were written before the series got the full green light. So, part of the decision could be a matter of convenience. Not laziness, but it's definitely easier and faster to start with a pre-existing framework.

The first two games in the series have localizations, but Mother3 does not. She even jokes about that in ch1, when Chlaus tells the earl how hard it was to find this "game" (the drug evidence that's inside the game packaging). Despite begging from international EarthBound fans (because that's the localized name for the series), Mother3 has yet to have an official international release, and it likely never will. If you are going to use a game as a framework, it might help to focus on one that you know very well... and it'll be appreciated by local fans... but the world at large isn't as likely to notice the connections. There is a patched translation by Tomato, but it's not too easy to come by these days.

I guess you could say it "spoiled" the twin plot twist, for me, since I realized as early as December 2015 that:

There have to be twins

They are mirror twins

The older twin dies

The older twin gets reanimated

The older twin is working with or for an adversary

The twins become adversaries

The twins must confront each other

The younger twin should prevail

The younger twin must give its soul to the demon

If the older twin gets control of the demon, it could spell doom for the world

But, I don't feel "spoiled" by it, since I see it (and other potential spoilers) as jumping-off points, where she can make changes to it all... and for me, that's where the real plot twists come in. How does she deviate from Mother3 (and its predecessors) in ways that still parallel but make her story unique?

And that keeps me really intrigued... not my reading experience spoiled. It's been reinterpreted, not copied. The differences are just as interesting as the similarities.

#black butler #kuroshitsuji #mother3 #mother3 predictions #yana toboso #mother2 #mother game #mother series #character parallels #plot parallels #similarities #differences #reinterpretation #not copying #truly original stories are super hard to come up with these days #anon asks #i answer #answered asks #tumblr glitch #aug 21 2022 #in this case the devil is definitely in the details

[deadendtracks]

definitely don't feel obligated to answer this, but i've been following your updates to Not for quite some time and one thing that's stood out to me is how solid and thoroughly engaging each installment is but how cohesive the larger arc is. and it fits so seamlessly together that i have to at least ask--how do the ideas for each installment come to you, or did you map out the entire arc of Not before you started writing?

It is very encouraging to hear that the series feels cohesive as a larger arc!

I guess you could call my approach to this series "what if Peaky Blinders, as close to canon as possible, except it's an omegaverse AU" and it all stems from there. My intention is to keep everything connected to the canon events and canon characters, as closely as I can. The interesting bits to me are where those things sort of collide. How the characters may differ due to the AU, but how they could be as nearly the same, as well. How canon events might have taken place in this AU. Etc.

It wasn't planned out so there are bound to be places where if I look back, I'd say 'oh if I'd really been deeply planning an omegaverse AU I could have done this or that differently and explored some issue better' but that's the drawback of being a seat of your pants writer rather than a planner. Mostly I just write to find out what's going to happen, because I don't always know.

So probably the coherence of the story arc owes something to my sticking to the canon plot arc, finding gaps in it that make sense to explore in this AU. Other elements, like trying to answer some questions (how did Tommy get those letters he blackmailed the king with, really?) also play a role. The third major aspect is filling in some time gaps, like the time between season 3 and season 4, which is one of my favorite time gaps in the series.

After things got rolling, the stories themselves start to generate the next story in the series. So what are the consequences, emotionally or physically or plot wise, and then how might *those* things interact with canon events. Really trying to keep those things in mind while writing the next installment helps, I think, though I don't tend to consciously draw them out before I start writing. I just try to stay in the moment.

I think that's probably what gives it any cohesiveness. So a fic is not just an excuse for Tommy/Tatiana/Alfie (though it is that) but how does all of this tie in to Tommy's family being under threat of death (a canon event). How would that impact him?

And most centrally, how does Grace's death impact all of this. Sure, an omegaverse AU gives you lots of opportunities for sex scenes, but I personally don't find that interesting unless it illuminates the characters in some way. And I know it's not common in Tommy/Alfie fic, but I can't get away from canon. I have to have Grace's death impact that relationship, I have to have Alfie's canon betrayals impact that relationship. This is what makes it compelling to me. So my Tommy/Alfie are a bit more prickly and standoffish with each other than other versions.

So I didn't really map out anything when I started the series; in fact the very first fic really was just supposed to be a PWP that immediately grew a plot and a whole universe. And then at some point early on (maybe after the first fic, I can't remember) I knew what the deep backstory was. So that probably also contributes to the cohesiveness; there's a certain core story being told over the course of the series through characterization rather than overt plot.

I don't know if that story will ever be explicitly revealed; it may just be there in the background for the reader to pick up on or not. It's like when an actor makes up a backstory for their character; they don't often come out and tell you what it is but you may be able to glean it from the way they play the character.

At some point I started having ideas for possible future fics, which I jot down, but I have no idea if those will see the light of day. And sometimes other fics start happening first. I had Not a ruse in mind before I started writing Not a vacant wilderness but apparently the latter had to happen first, because that's how things came out. I'm not sure you can really call that planning per se.

I have no idea if that is a satisfying response to your kind ask!

#writing is hard