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soyouareandrewdobson · 7 months

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TIMBER! The artistic Growth thing...

I apologize for the recent silence almost immediately after I came back. Unfortunately the last weeks were affected by personal and work stuff that I think no one cares about here, so I was unable to write much.

That said, plans are in the making and I thought today I would at the very least bring out one comic that to me is not necessarily wrong in the message Dobson conveys, but does after all not apply much to him

The thing about this comic is, that Dobson is not necessarily entirely wrong. There are people who believe that artistic growth is more or less developing in a progressive line, kinda artificially. Which based on my own experience, is not really the case. At least I have seen artists, writers and such, who, if allowed to grow in a more “organic” manner, will eventually manage to create stuff and tell stories with a more unique flavor than they did before. The “key” however to do so is to also think at least partly outside the box and being “genuine” with what you want to create. Case in point for me: Terry Pratchett’s Discworld novels.

While I did enjoy a lot of Pratchett’s early novels in the Discworld cycle, I will admit that it wasn’t really until “Mort” and “MacBest” that I think Pratchett started to move away from simply “spoofing” the common tropes in fantasy fiction while telling a story and that it was around that time, he really started to flesh the Discworld out in the manner that many people came to love, while also giving flavor to it with his unique sense of humor. And Moving Pictures in that regard was the true definitive turning point, as from there on we “left” the classical fantasy tropes in favor of a fantasy world more akin to a 19th century fantasy world, entering the industrial revolution and everything that it included. But Pratchett, in order to reach that point in his career as a writer, and in regard of his Discworld mythology, had to start somewhere with novels the like of “The Light Fantastic” and “Colours of Magic” and had to "progressively" improve at least to some degree before reaching the point he could organically breach out.

Which brings me to the following: Dobson claiming that there is no “linear progression” at times is kinda wrong. Particularly when you are familiar with long running manga series such as One Piece or certain webcomics. From a technical aspect, there is “progress” so to speak. Look at One Piece and how chapters are drawn e.g. back during the East Blue or Alabasta Cycle and compare the linework e.g. with how things escalate in the Wano arc. Oda obviously became more comfortable fleshing out panels even more than before.

Drum vs Wano...

Another example: Compare THIS early strip of a certain internet webcomic…

With how it looks nowadays

Yeah, I know sinfest is utter garbage made by a demagogue WAY WORSE than Dobson (honestly, fuck Ishida with a broken bottle), but technically speaking, he “evolved”.

Next, let me just say that I find the assumption of Dobson that “most” people think artistic growth is “only” an artificial linear process, kinda insulting. Mostly because I think that most of us are aware that it is rather a mixture of “organic” growth and linear progress, rather than one extreme or the other. But obviously, Dobson must claim this is the “truth” about most people, cause otherwise, his take isn’t “unique” anymore and he isn’t special. Special for making a whimsical, romanticized and “creative” statement about artistic growth being more like a tree. Free to grow and beautiful to look at. Something we must nurture and care for.

Yeah, about that, in regard of the last line that reads, and I quote: Everyone is different and everyone grows at different speed. Through loving care and constant nurturing, you’ll always improve.

I think we all know Dobson well enough, that what he really is saying is the following:

I am different than others and I grow at my own pace. Please, I will improve if you give me likes and pay for my stuff instead of giving me mean criticism I can not stand. Now let me just phrase it in a manner that sounds like I say something compassionate that can apply to every person, hiding my own insecurities and selfish wishes.

In that regard, let me show you the beauty of Dobson’s artistic growth as of present day.

Okay, snark put aside at least partly, I do agree that yes, people are different and as artists can grow at different speed. Often times other factors, such as personal life experiences, exposure to stuff outside their certain comfort zones or even just having the right tools to work with, can affect a lot the artistic growth of a person.

I even agree, that “loving care and nurturing” (or in other words, positive feedback and support, at times, even financially) can help. But where I draw the line is at “constant nurturing”, because that feels like to Dobson, the only way he or other artists can ever improve is only through praise and nothing more. No. No Dobson, you also need to at least tolerate at times “criticism” and negative feedback. And I don’t mean stuff like “kill yourself, faggot”, I mean when someone tells an artist for example that certain technical aspects of his work, such as linework, positions, storytelling etc. need genuinely to be worked on. Because guess what? Getting your mistakes pointed out, doesn’t necessarily need to be something negative. It can also be something positive, if it genuinely helps you learn from those mistakes and improve your work.

Not that Dobson ever learnt how to deal with “criticism” in a positive manner anyway, as evident by journal posts as followed...

And this piece of “artwork”

Comic with stabbed critics

Not to forget, the person who gives us this “advice” is the same person who did not really live by any of it himself. I mean, Dobson claims that artistic growth is doing best when allowed to grow organically, slowly and steady and that as time goes on, it will also branch out and diverge.

I will say this: Yes, there are content creators who tend to branch out at times also from their “familiar” tone and style, just for the sake of creating art. Gendy Tartakovsky comes to mind, having started off in very cartoonish stuff like Dexter’s Lab and Powerpuff Girls, only to then also give us Samurai Jack, Primal and Unicorn-Warriors Eternal. Not having really betrayed his roots (as evident e.g. also by his involvement with the Hotel Transylvania franchise), but branching out to different degree.

When did Andrew Dobson ever “branch out” or diverge? His original stories such as Formera and Alex the Pirate, which were derivative of humor and pacing issues related to comedic mangas of the late 80s and early 90s as well as newspaper comic strips, were utter failures he abandoned around the late 2000s/early 2010s.

Most of the stuff he ever created was random fanart, and if anything he actually got worse over time. Having perhaps once upon a time created some decent fanart…

And then later providing people more with stuff like that, where he doesn’t even get the original design of the characters right

Even a low effort comic such as SYAC had become lazier and lazier over the years. Mostly because instead of just telling a joke, you had most of the time just Dobbear over the course of four panels stand in a green void and blubber on how he thinks certain artists or fans sucked because of opinions they had.

The most he ever bothered to “branch out” was ironically when he worked for brentalfloss, as the guy forced Dobson essentially to draw more detailed backgrounds at times than he ever did for anything else.

And the deal with Brentalfloss ended by 2012 or even earlier.

The only other noteworthy creations he made in his last years online would be the Adventure Zone comic that no one asked for (essentially turning some podcast into a comic that had severe pacing issues. Something Adventure Zone fans pointed out) and Miraculous Ladybug comics he made, because that shitstain on the magical girl genre became his new favorite.

And the later were just an extension of the dumb, unfunny and meanspirited newspaper level humor he was already famous for when it came to Alex ze Pirate and early SYAC.

Not to forget, he couldn’t even draw the characters remotely close to the show’s style, something he even pointed out himself.

JESUS! She looks like a farting squirrel with mental disorders.

Dobson himself may have hated his younger self and what he drew…

But you just have to look e.g. at his “Inktober” contributions in later years to see, how much within the shortest amount of time he could regress artistically instead of grow.

To clarify: The Dr. Who pic was in his first year of doing inktober. The not on model Gary was on his second, and the Dipper one on his last year of participating in it. And he actively decided out of spite to no longer work with ink the second year forward, because the first time he did it, he felt insulted by people actually paying him positive attention again in years among other things.

Truth be told, Dobson had all the time in the world within the 15+ years he was an online presence. And even with people like me making fun of him and criticizing his work, he still could have done something to improve artistically for the better and grow into a beautiful tree.

Instead he shriveled up to some stinking flora with a lot of pricks and was stomped out by natural forces, leaving me and others behind to further salt the earth on which he grew.

Turning from this...

to this!

With his very last project known as Cabin Rest ending up pretty much like that:

#so you are a cartoonist #adobsonartwork #andrew dobson #artistic growth #comic #webcomic #hypocrisyofandrewdobson

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altraviolet · 1 year

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Haha sooooooo, I may have stayed up til 5 am finishing the rest of the fic…….. And then I had a dream about what happened next. The fic was so good!!!! The way you write Soundwave’s progress is just incredible, it makes sense. It isn’t necessarily linear, and he is trying, but he still has habits he needs to break, still struggles with quite a few things. And he’s come so far but it’s so so hard to see your own progress when you are first starting the process of healing. I think the next parts will have some set backs for him, but I’m excited to see how he overcomes them. I Heckin love angst and hurt/comfort, and I know that every chapter will be well worth any wait. Stories about healing always have me in a chokehold, and your writing is just so excellent. I’ll probably re-read so I can appreciate more of the details, as this first time I may have missed them due to being so focused on what happens next.

Oooh wow! I wonder what happened in your dream 👀 And thanks for the kind words! It's a slow, slow burn [actually more like a really reeeeeeeeeeally long fuse] but that is what TFP Soundwave needs UuU

So you're all caught up, good, good... I apologize in advance for having no upload schedule :'D My irl job is really stressful and I get writers block easily, so sometimes updates take a while.

Anyhoo, spoilers for The Echo Garden up to now (Ch 37) beneath the cut!

To answer your initial ask, gonna do a quick roundup of some seemingly random things:

1) I'm really delighted that in your previous ask you mentioned "So glyphs for Spark, denoting not just life, existence itself..." because that tells me that as far back as Ch 24, readers were getting the idea I'm trying to get across. Yay!

2) in Ch 37 we learn more about Soundwave's power. Kind of in oblique, scientific terms [which should get expanded on in the next chapter]. Relevant parts:

“Soundwave, it turns out, is an outlier,” said Brainstorm gleefully. “The strangest, but perhaps most powerful ability we've ever encountered.”

...

“He can detect and reproduce subatomic energies,” said Brainstorm. “Fundamental characteristics of the universe. No, of reality! The essence of matter distilled into sound.”

...

“We mean innate properties of matter. Intrinsic properties. Properties that define reality itself.”

3) Sort of an aside: I don't remember where in the fic this is, but Soundwave says at one point, "sparks are Soundwave without crystal."

4) Soundwave can only do his outlier power stuff with crystals and mechs' spark energy. I haven't gone into why [it hasn't really been relevant to the story] but I can tell you from a narrative/story construction point of view, this is a deliberate limit I put on him.

So! Soundwave calls himself "Soundwave" because there isn't a word for what he does. What he does is manipulate energy at a very, very fundamental level of, basically, existence. He can copy it, translate it, and generate an 'anti-soundwave' wave to destroy it [or at least, he could in the past]. Characters who can manipulate forces at a fundamental level can get wayyyy too overpowered really quickly, hence the limits mentioned in point 4. To Soundwave, sparks and emotions and databases and ship/frame/whatever data are all kinds of information, which can be organized and moved around. The emotions/crystals stuff purposefully parallels his canonical abilities/strengths that we see: working on decoding the Iacon archive, hacking, data manipulation, etc.

"Sparkpulse" is a really poetic and lovely expression for what Soundwave is and can do. It's not quite the entire picture but it's absolutely an appropriate invention given what the fic says =D

I don't see Soundwave as a character who's into the poetic [though I guess you could make the argument that "Soundwave" itself might be]. For him, the most accurate name would be something like Fundamental-Information Manipulator. Which is, as you noted about the English language, extremely limited and quite lol. I like the use of "Manipulator" as opposed to something more neutral like "Operator," as Soundwave always has his own goals he works towards.

That said, now I want to think about this a bit and see if there's something less clunky, but still illustrative of his ability 🤔

I hope this answered your ask! Happy to expound on anything if you'd like. Thanks again for the kind messages =)

#ask #ohnebulaprimus #echo garden related #soundwave #fundamental-information manipulator #xD

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lazaruspitreborn · 6 months

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GENERAL STUFF

I follow from goldentemplariumcrow. This is a sideblog.

Mun & Muses are 21+

Mun isn’t the Muse. Muse isn’t the Mun.

English isn’t my first language, so misspells and minor grammar mistakes may occur.

DMs and Askbox are always open for everyone. Discord can be requested.

No hate/negativity will be allowed on this blog.

I'm a low maintainance partner, meaning I don't mind low communication and spaced out replies. However, I've also found out that I do have better and more dynamic threads with muns I can talk plots, headcanons and random topics with.

I'm mobile bound for most of the time.

ROLE-PLAY STUFF

-> OC-friendly, Canon-friendly, Cross-over open, AU open

-> Multiverse

No threads interlope with other threads. However, if allowed, I might very discretely mention other muses or facts in a thread or another as a way to bring a little extra in. This doesn’t mean all Muses are in the same verse, unless all Muns agree with such.

-> Multiship

Let it be known that I’m a shipping whore and will ship probably with everyone. If you think there's a possibility for shipping, I'm probably already shipping in my head. I do try to seek some chemistry between muses before anything else though. However, the development of the chemistry doesn’t need to be done all in threads, it can be discussed through DMs, Discord convos, Discord threads, asks etc.

I also have no preferred ships for Jason. Whatever blooms is game for me.

-> Mature content:

NSFW threads will be always placed under Read More and tagged as “》n/s/f/w”. This includes all kinds of mature content from smut to violence and gore.

If you need something tagged for you, please let me know. I'll gladly make a tag for you.

-> No godmoding or powerplay, please.

If your Muse is an all powerful creature, like a god or deity, and need my Muse to act accordingly to the will of yours, tell me beforehand. I'm all for accomodating your muse's needs and style, but I'm super uncomfortable when things are just dropped on my lap out of nowhere.

This also goes for cases where you might need/want to hurt my muse to the brink of death, abuse him, or kill him.

Forewarning is common courtesy in this kind of situation.

-> Non-linear

Once a relationship is stablished between muses, I'm open to RP threads without needing to follow a line of progression. I skip forward and backward according to whatever the muse feels like, and you're more than welcome to do the same.

-> Trimming posts

Because I'm stuck on mobile most of the time, I can't do much about trimming the threads. I use the resources the app gives me, meaning the original post will always be there when I reply to threads.

It may not be fitting to aesthetic focused blogs, but it's the best I can do. For this, I apologize in advance for any extra work writing with my muse may come to give you.

EXTRAS

Although I'm somewhat versed in comics' Jason Todd/Red Hood lore, this blog is focused on his version from the Gotham Knights game. Meaning I'll focus my writing and headcanons mostly on the game's universe.

I don't do fancy editing on my posts and try to keep things as readable as possible. But you can do all the editing you want, all I ask is that you respect me if I ever ask for a change here and there to make the reading experience better for myself, after all, I can't reply to what I can't read.

Just so you know, I do my best to practice reblog karma. Meaning if I reblog a meme or prompt from your blog, I'll try to send you something back as soon as possible. Might not be from the same meme I reblogged, because it doesn't always match the vibes of the muses' dynamic, but I'll 9/10 times send something back. I don't ask you to do the same, but if you can, it'll be so very swell! I appreciate it a lot!

Duplicates are welcome on this blog. Love me some shenanigans!

I like to reblog fanarts regardless of them being of ships or not. If they're pretty, I'm reblogging them. This does not mean I'm more inclined to a ship or another. It just means I probably found one fanart that I think it's pretty and went down a rabbit hole where there were like fifty others of the same pairing, because that's how it works with the suggested posts on Tumblr.

#》rules

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plounce · 1 year

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one thing that im turning over in my head as i play ff14 is how it, as an MMO, is a type of medium that can support the interwoven complexity and cameos and juggled spinning plates as comics can. there’s a lot of stuff going on simultaneously and subjectively nonlinearly (real quick before i continue this conversation with you im gonna go kill 5 giant crabs on the other side of the map) (while i wait for the next issue of this comic im gonna go read a ton of the backlog of an auxiliary comic), but all of these things are fairly easily sorted by era (expansions for mmos, writers/decades for comics) and are thus easier to see as coexisting. you can hop from storyline to storyline, even as the “main” storyline scoots forward. you can focus on reading x-factor or new mutants, even as the main x-book deals with the grand sweeping changes of mutantdom.*

you could stick to the main story and understand it pretty well, sure, but the main story DOES pull characters and threads from sidequests or spinoff comics, and knowing them enriches the entire experience, so wander around the whole thing and get to know what’s going on with the refugees in quarrymill who you help get medicine, or the girl on the teen team who spent years in hell getting her soul siphoned away, because they could eventually get plucked from the dugout or from obscurity and get to be relevant to the main plot. knowing all these random little things increases your emotional investment in the media as a whole. you get to go “hey, that guy!! i remember him!! i think he got framed for a crime but was eventually revealed as innocent??” and both comics and most active MMOs are serial media. so there’s an element of anticipation and open-endedness and speculation to your perception of the story/characters/experience, which keeps you engaged in the media as a whole. and while that is true of like all serial media, with the two im discussing here, the pulls and cameos and sudden significances can be a lot more varied.

a lot of other fictional mediums keep their focus a lot more linear and constrained, which can be good for them (it’s a lot easier to pay attention to what’s important if there isn’t a lot of other stuff going on) and also much more easily achieved by how those mediums work. a tv show only has so much budget for regular cast and special guest stars, and depending on how episodic v serial the show is, promotions to recurrence can vary. and episodic television doesn’t tend to have grand plots that cataclysmically move the world forward.

although ive never read it, i believe discworld also comes close to this experience, because while there is a chronology, a worthy strategy in reading them is to go through the books by subject rather than just straight publishing order, but you could also just wander around and go “holy shit!! vetinari!!”. star trek does this to a certain extent (although the different series kept themselves much more self-contained than my examples here, aside from character crossovers), as well as star wars EU novels (rip) (which are also not really their own independent media). someone could probably try to argue that the MCU is trying to do this, but imo the mcu is way too shallow and bland and derivative, and is just trying to do what comics have always done way better.

*of course one difference is that with MMOs, main story progression is also necessary to unlock new areas, new gear, new materials, etc that are necessary to successfully do all the other quests. the main storyline keeps you leashed that way. comic books, on the other hand, are much more easily pick-and-choose - which can lead to you picking up the next issue of teen titans and going “wait what?? why are we in a destroyed metropolis all of a sudden?? weren’t we in the middle of a mission to antartica with some low stakes teen drama???” because DC decided all the books are gonna participate in a big crossover event storyline. so rather than leashed, you get lassoed to the main storyline of the universe.

#chirps #xmen #ffxiv

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spiribia · 1 year

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hello i booted up gw2 and i wanted to ask how to get started in the game? also how do you get a flying mount? like how many hours does it take? i asked someone in game and they said it was a lot of work :(

Hi! Happy to see another prospective gw2er! I don’t know if you’re looking for any advice about anything in particular, and feel free to ask (or even DM me if you’re comfortable) if you have any more questions at all. gw2 is intentionally pretty unique from your standard MMORPG experience – level 80 is the max level, and the process up to reaching that level is considered the BEGINNING of the game. It’s only after level 80 that the starting expacs become accessible, and a more traditionally linear, uninterrupted storyline begins.

The narrative before then comes in the form of a more branching, choice-based Personal Story, a new chapter of which unlocks every 10 levels until the conclusion at level 80. Gw2 carries a very “explore and do whatever appeals to you” philosophy, so to bridge these beginning story chapters you’re really encouraged to just wander the overworld. There aren’t really traditional sidequests, but doing tasks in the form of renown hearts and live events or even just reaching a new place or vantage point you haven’t been before (some require a bit of parkour) will get you a decent amount of experience.

You also can’t swap classes, so what you picked in character creation is what you are for life for that particular character, BUT each class comes with a lot of modularity in the form of different builds and weapons (equipping a new weapon completely changes the first 4 skills on your bar). The game is also super alt friendly - a lot of progress in terms of unlocks saves account wide rather than localized to a single character - so feel free to play around with that. That’s all I really have to say about getting started though, the early stretch seems mostly just for figuring out how you like to play yourself.

As for flying mounts, there are 2 in the game at the moment, the griffon and the skyscale. You currently need the Path of Fire dlc to unlock mounts overall, including the griffon, and the expac after that (Living World Season 4) to unlock the skyscale. These do honestly take some time, though I couldn’t tell you exactly how many hours – it’s pretty variable given the open-ended nature of the obtaining process. I’d say getting the griffon is popularly regarded as the less tedious of the two - its main obstacle is that you need to dump 250 gold into it, which is still nothing to scoff at. The skyscale comes at a much lower cost in gold if you don’t buy any skips, but requires a lot more running around and doing specific meta events and bosses, interacting with objects in the overworld, time gates, etc. A lot of people find this process soul-crushing, but I’m the weirdo who really liked it. I will say my one tip for a newbie regarding this is if you think you might be around long term and even kind of think you might want the skyscale in the future, start making charged quartz early. You can only make one a day, and you’ll need a minimum of 12 and an optional maximum of I believe 22(?) for the skyscale unlock. or you can buy the required stuff with gold instead, but it adds up to be pretty costly.

Although gw2 has a very robust mount system even for ground mounts, and I would say having a flying mount, though fun and convenient, isn’t make or break, if any of that sounds daunting to you. The springer mount, for example, lets you catapult yourself upwards vertically, which is great for rapidly scaling the environment. Heart of Thorns dlc (which comes free with Path of Fire) gives you a glider.

Hopefully that helped at all? But you’re always welcome to reach out if you need anything else

#I am so sorry I don’t know how to add read more on mobile.#anon

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childrensward · 1 year

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Hi! It feels like it's been a while since I've posted some more personal-life stuff on here, so here's some things that have been on my mind lately:

Lately I've been doing good- like, really good. Of course my issues are still pervasive, I still suffer every day from them, but I feel more at peace with that fact. I feel as though I can think clearly for the first time in a long while, and I'm better able to cope with my disabilities. I have a lot more energy too, and things that used to tire me out completely don’t as much anymore, so I’ve been taking advantage of this and working to get myself back to functioning daily.

Because of this, I also haven't been involuntarily regressing as much as I used to- I've been healing a lot, and I think my brain is able to stay big for longer periods of time. That being said, I still very much do age dream and I'm still a child at heart, so I don't plan on leaving this blog anytime soon! The focus of my blog just might change a little over time as my recovery journey continues, but I'll still be here to make my silly little posts about kids stuff.

I'm sure there will still be times were I involuntarily regress again- progress isn't linear, and I can't expect myself to believe otherwise because that's only going to set me up for disappointment. But I feel confident enough to say that I think, this time around, I'll be able to cope with it better when it does come, and I'll start focusing on how I can make my little self feel more safe, protected and comfortable when it comes out when I'm feeling under the weather.

It's been wonderful to have found this community online, to have peace of mind knowing that I'm not the only one like this. It's very healing being around people who cope with things or have the same medical symptoms as you, and I thank you all for all of your interactions with this blog.

Have a wonderful day/night everyone

#journal

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realtalk-princeton · 2 years

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Incoming frosh here. Not sure what I want to major in, but math, econ, and possibly ORFE. I liked HS math a lot, but don't even want to try placing out of MAT 103-104 because it was virtual and I wouldn't be confident going into higher level math courses with what I feel is a weak foundation. What would my schedule look like after that if I wanted to pursue math? I think (??) I'd have to do 215-217 as a soph, and then all eight department reqs in 2 years, which seems kind of terrible??

Latios:

yeah… the ”215-17 soph year, then 8 departmentals in 2 years + junior IW + thesis” would be pretty terrible. (almost as if the course progression in the math department is very unwelcoming towards those without a lot of prior background.) if you want to major in math, one option to avoid this is to take whichever 10X/20X math class would be most comfortable for you freshman fall, while aiming to take 217 freshman spring. this might sound kind of scary, and it would definitely be A LOT of work and time. however, 217 does not actually require 215 as a prerequisite (linear algebra and intro real analysis are independent). i believe 217 follows Axler’s book (which is very readable with minimal background) pretty closely, so maybe you could read the first bit of that beforehand (or even now!) you could also go for 204 (which isn’t full on proof-based like 217 but covers more of the theory than 202, i think) freshman spring. one relevant fact is that not all the departmentals strictly need you to have taken 215-17 (even if it might say that on the course catalog, you could probably just take the class): combinatorics, intro graph theory, topology come to mind. if you don’t feel comfortable taking 217 as a freshman, you could go for 215-17 + two departmentals (one each semester) soph year. and taking 215 soph fall would open up lots of analysis options for a soph spring departmental in addition to 217. but if this sounds worse than 217 as a freshman, i’d point you to doing 217 freshman spring. like you said, you *really* don’t want to be doing 2 departmentals every semester on top of independent work in junior and senior years.

also: how familiar are you with what a proof is/how to prove something? because it is a TERRIBLE idea to take 215 or 217 without knowing what it means to write a mathematical proof. if you aren’t familiar with proofs, any math you’d learn in any math class here with number at least 214 will feel very different than the math you’ve learned, which can be a difficult/confusing change in mindset. as for what you should do now: maybe look at an intro analysis/linear algebra book, some ones people like are Axler, Treil (linear algebra), Rudin, Spivak, Pugh (analysis)? a book like the ones mentioned would prepare you well for the content covered in 215/17, along with introducing you to theoretical math in general if you aren’t yet comfortable with proofs. (BUT! imo the best way to start learning theoretical math is through ”problem solving” like material; see stuff like AoPS resources, Zeitz’s Art and Craft, The Book (more difficult). these things are also a lot of fun!)

good luck OP, hope this is helpful! feel free to ask any questions about math here anytime if you have any.

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talenlee · 2 months

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Game Pile: Hinedere Beat

Hinedere Beat And Saying What You Mean

Watch this video on YouTube

Script as follows:

Thinking a lot about words.

Thinking a lot about how we use them.

Thinking a lot about why I don’t use them.

Hinedere Beat is a dreamlike fluid parkour platformer with room-to-room puzzle-solving. It’s in the model of games like Prince of Persia, the original two in 2d, on a computer that is old enough to be mad about how young people are voting. In that particular model of game, levels are sort of labyrinths designed out of puzzles. Each room has some element of an individual problem to solve, but you still need to pick the right path through those rooms, one after another. In the original 80s games, you had to first work out the right place to go, then work out the way to get there without killing yourself.

Hinedere Beat is a little like that, but without so much of the grand labyrinth. Instead, you’re running through a reasonably linear, limited set of rooms which deliberately stop you from getting lost by encouraging you to instead keep going forward, forward, forward, and offers you a story as a way to incentivise that movement. And that story, I liked a lot. You might notice though that I’m just showing you gameplay and not any of the story. I’m not even showing you how this game shows you its story, and intentionally so. This is in part because the story is itself, pretty interesting and easily segregated out from the play experience meaning that you can go into it blind if you want to, but it’s also because it’s horny.

And it’s horny in a really specific way.

And that was one of the words I got thinking about. What is a horny game? In this case it’s a game where there’s a romantic plot, and it plays out and progresses from meeting to kissing to different types of sex – hand stuff if you’re feeling particularly detail oriented. There’s also a delicious dash of what I guess I’d normally call Anime Bullshit if I was trying to be dismissive about it but which serves as more sort of general warning label. Something that’ll surprise you if you’re not familiar with the media form, something forgettable if you are.

It’s horny, but like, the horny is part of the game? It’s not something that comes out of nowhere; a character is pretty forward, but it’s hardly a mystery. It has a feel to me of games from the late 90s that didn’t come with documentation, downloaded off sketchy sites that maybe didn’t work because your operating system couldn’t handle Japanese characters. There’s a characteristic of the visual novel to it, but also of that time of visual novel – where characters spoke in a particular cadence with an oddness to their word choice. I think it was back then that people like me learned a particular kind of roleplayed space aesthetic, with translators striving to represent Japanese sound effects resulting in english text like asterisk-gripping, or open bracket sharp breath close bracket.

Anyway, while there’s a oddness to it, it’s not an odd idea. You go on a date and have sex, it’s just the character of the date that isn’t standard. And that’s where we run into the next word to struggle with.

I hesitate to use the term ‘surreal’ for anything when I’m discussing games. This is not out of any kind of prestige for the term or any deep understanding. It’s actually oufo f the much more mundane and embarrassing reason that I know I don’t know what the term means precisely or meaningfully, and between theatre, film and art, my nerdosphere has people who I am pretty sure will judge me for using the term incorrectly. And hey, why should I use a term I don’t quite understand to invoke something I think I mean? Aside from that being how most language works if you believe Wittgenstein (and I kinda do). Without this word in my repertoire I have to consider what I mean when I try to reach for it.

I heard the term used to describe Inception a lot? And then subsequently, it means ‘like Inception’ to people, which also, funnily enough, often means ‘about the process of making a movie,’ which is what Inception mostly makes me think of. What I think I want to say when I intuitively reach for ‘surreal’ is not an invocation of incoherence, but rather, a description of the Dreamlike.

And, yeah, this game is dreamlike. It begins and it ends with your character waking up or falling asleep and it’s hard to say which and what it means, because the story features things like cybernetically controlled traditional Japanese ghosts, or rewriting your own past, robot drones and also is, again, a date. It’s weird! Pleasantly weird!

Inevitably though in a conversation around this kind of game, there’s another word that comes up, and that is flow. Flow is a term you probably know from this graph, or from someone else in a much more successful channel bringing it up, but its origin point is –

oh god help –

the book Flow, The Psychology of Optimal Experience, by Mihaly Czikszentmihalyi. And honestly, I’m sorry about how that sounded, but I’m doing my best. This book is one of those great Games Studies books in that it has an idea in it that lots of people have built out and explored, and stopped reading the second they got to the definition, because the book has some problems.

For you unfamiliar, Flow is a book about ‘flow states,’ which is so much just like being ‘in the zone’ that the wikipedia page lists both on each other’s disambiguation page. Without going in depth on the book, it’s an idea that psychologists and occupational therapists put to some use. Which is great! I’m glad it’s a term that’s useful for considering how people focus. My beef comes later in the book where Mihaly trots out such ideas as:

Part of the answer probably has to do with innate genetic causes. Some people are just temperamentally less able to concentrate their psychic energy than others. Among schoolchildren, a great variety of learning disabilities have been reclassified under the heading of “attentional disorders,”

Where he goes on to describe that people with attention disorders can’t achieve Flow, or True Enjoyment. But don’t worry he also throws people with anxiety conditions in as well, with:

A less drastic obstacle to experiencing flow is excessive self-consciousness. A person who is constantly worried about how others will perceive her, who is afraid of creating the wrong impression, or of doing something inappropriate, is also condemned to permanent exclusion from enjoyment.

It isn’t like Flow is a terrible concept, it’s just that when you read these statements, it kinda makes you wonder what this person knows about psychology at all. People who are anxious and people who are distracted are unable to attain true enoyment, unable to tap into flow states.

But this is also after a chapter in which he describes the ideal of people who do things not because of incentives but because of their entirely focused enjoyment of them. He calls this the autotelic personality. An autotelic personality, according to the book, is someone who is (probably) genetically born to be better at getting into a flow state, capable of discarding unnecessary stimuli to focus intensely on a project, and capable of doing things that may not seem even to be fun to some people purely for their own sake of enjoying the doing itself.

And all this is after he forwards that the Nazis, well, they were probably in a flow state presented to them by the propaganda of the war. It’s also before he suggested an inability to find enjoyment and fun in things was part of how African slaves in the Caribbean died out.

The book is from 1975. It’s old and it’s by an author who definitely had some weird opinions and bias against things like, say, well-supported socialist safety nets. It’s not to say Flow is an idea we should throw out necessarily. But it does make me wonder about when I want to use it to invoke an idea in a game, because the rest of that book has some frightful stuff in it that goes unexamined when you take one idea out of it.

This is a thing that games studies always does you know. I like making fun of Roger Caillois because of the misogyny and racism but it really is a rarified air in the genre. Caillois argued that the destiny of a culture can be seen in its games, and because Europeans played competitive games like Chess and Poker, which both gave you a way of handling random chance and a way to be competitively aggressive, that was why European culture dominated the world. The game dictated their destiny of domination and superiority. This was used in contrast with African games, which Caillois did not look at at all. If you’re a student of games, you might know that Chess is an Indian game, and Poker is a Persian game – and so to head this idea off at the pass, Caillois argued that Oriental cultures don’t experience the same drive to win at games because they were fundamentally non-innovative cultures.

Which is to say, he just, he just made up some racism.

And am I inviting in those ideas when I look at games, and use those words, without thinking about it? Hinedere Beat is a game with an anime aesthetic. It reminds me of Japanese videogames from the 90s. Its storytelling is disjointed and invokes manga stories I’m familiar with. And it does have after all, an amazing sense of flow.

Horny, surreal, flow.

I really liked this game, I liked the romance it told, and I liked how it interrupted that with being the coolest girl in the world doing ridiculously badass things to impress a cute girl you were on a date with.

And it made me think about words I use.

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

#Game Pile #Games

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sanmisui · 7 months

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Venting and rambling about writing:

Maybe my fanfic would be better off without all those smutty implications that I’m adding.

Seriously,,,,, the story would work either way. It’s just my stupid brain not understanding that it ain’t necessary for a fanfic to have these things. But also everything sort of sucks. My writing is painfully mid. The story is long and it’s been dragging me down and I have no idea what I’m doing anymore,,,, ughhh.

I have lotsa drafts,,,, but nothing fits into the current story. So I will make more stories once the current one is done,,,, but I know that the ending will suck. My brain is bad.

Nothing really matters, I’m just writing nonsense. I’m gonna take it out and just end the day and write something else n get back to the mid section later.

My writing isn’t linear. I start somewhere n add a break n go to the next section and then I go back to fill the blanks and connect the plots together.

Sometimes I need to shove things back or take them out entirely. That’s just how the creative progress works,,,, it is what it is,,,,

I wish somebody would give me clearer instructions on what to add and what to leave out. I mean,,,, who the fuck wants to read about washing the dishes? On multiple occasions?? It adds some minor detail and it makes the story longer… ooooooh the story is so goddamn long I think it’s almost at 100k words???? How did I even do that? It’s been 6 months. Is that good or bad? I don’t read that many stories. Or only short ones. But they get everything done and sorted easy peasy,,,,, my story is filled with convoluted garbage and it’s just a retelling of the goddamn anime for the most of it,,,, with a few extras and boiiiii is it boring? I’m bored. Not sure if that’s just me cuz I know what my brain is cooking up and boi did it add too much sugar to the alphabet soup,,,, who the fuck adds sugar to their soup anyways?????

I avoid conflict. But I need conflict. I gotta write about the goddamn conflict. How do I write? Hell, I haven’t got a clue as to what I’m even doing with this story. It’s an x Reader Story, there won’t be that many people craving for it’s conclusion… I think I hate the story cuz I put too much of myself into the personality of the mc. Yeahhh maybe that is it?

I also suck at writing the dude who we r romancing. Maybe it’s all just too much of a mess?

But I still need to finish it!!!! I can’t just drop it? It’s almost done! Just… uh… a few more chapters?

Maybe 2 or 3? I could end it rather quickly if I end it on a sour note. Would people hate me for that? Probably. It might be for the best. I am not really vibing with this story anymore. I already ruined it for myself. N I put too much pressure on my mushy brain. It’s gonna be over soon… hopefully. Maybe I’d be more hyped about it, if people gave me better feedback? There isn’t much of a reason for me to keep writing. But I would hate for it to end without a proper ending. So I’ll write an ending and get it done and then I will start with something new.

Maybe I’m merely sad cuz I didn’t get as much interaction as I would’ve liked? My confidence is frail. If people don’t give me input on how things are for them, I’ll assume that they hate everything that I came up with. But once it’s done and released, it’d be blasphemous to go back and rewrite it…

Heck the story doesn’t even have a proper title. It pops up when u search for the character… which is bad!! Cuz the story is rated M but there don’t seem to be any hindrances for accessing it??? It’s just up on Google and anyone can click on it??? If you search for it on quotev, u gotta turn on adult content to see it but what’s the point if Google smacks it right in your face???

It prolly doesn’t fall under mature content… I haven’t written a whole lot of heehoo stuff cuz I’m too much of a coward. Godddd I should’ve put it on ao3 instead… but it’s too late for that and also… I like quotev. U can add pictures lolol. It’s more befitting of a beginner such as myself. But I should’ve tagged it better? Honestly, I’ve never written a serious story before. No idea what to tag outside of the characters. Hell. I don’t even know where the story is going or what’s going to happen next, cuz I write as I think and I think as I go and I’m not doing a whole lot of planning ahead.

I’m rambling so goddamn much on this post here cuz I don’t have any friends or confidants. No way of asking for directions. It’s always just me talking to myself for hours and my mental health is shredded like discarded papers.

Ughhhhhhhhh. I hate being creative. I think I’ll get something to drink and then I’ll just lay here for a bit.

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bugbyte · 1 year

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For everyone’s sake, I made a new tag called #healthposting, for when I’m blabbing about my own health and medical nonsense, so if you don’t want to see that it’s got a thing for your blocking convenience now. I went back and tagged old posts, too.

Anyway. So like a week ago at pt my shoulder got yoinked out of place accidentally, and hasn’t really fully recovered yet, and meanwhile I’m losing my mind unable to really draw or play much of any games or do anything much, so that’s been just great. I feel like I’ve read the entirety of the internet twice and watched every video ever made. All of them.

I have managed to get some writing done in bits and pieces, and I’m finally starting to get a handle on getting out the story for this game I’ve been attempting to make exist for a while. I started throwing together a big messy document with everything in it, and somehow it’s just flowing. I am a little worried that it’s getting over ambitious in places but if I can make it work I think it’ll be really good. It’s less about technical stuff, which I know I can figure out eventually, and more about weaving narrative stuff together in a way where the jokes land properly and the stuff that isn’t jokes foils correctly. Writing!

It’s got a lot of non linear things happening, which I couldn’t wrap my brain around in terms of writing, and then it occurred to me I could just write the story out as if it’s a walkthrough, and bam, progress. I’ve been making use of Freeform on iOS/Mac since that released sort of recently and it’s a really really good tool for mapping some of this stuff out visually and collecting references and links and stuff.

I have been thinking about this story and these characters for years and I have to make this happen because I want people other than me to meet them and love them too. At least I hope they will. I am aiming for endearing and relatable.

Now I just have to get my….everything….healed and working and maybe I can eventually start making this thing for real.

#blog #bug makes games #healthposting #cw medical #cw injury

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tipsycad147 · 1 year

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How to Interpret Your Dreams

Our dreams are a doorway into our subconscious. Our higher selves trying to breach the veil and speak to us, guide us to where we need to focus.

You can find whole books on symbolism to interpret your dreams but it really doesn’t have to be complicated. Nor do I recommend taking those books and symbols for face value.

Not everything in the dream has meaning behind it. Our brains are designed to story tell so it uses all of this extra stuff to fill in the gaps and make a story of sorts.

Of course, we shouldn’t try to interpret them per their story but instead by their

Emotions / vibrations

Underlying themes

Overall highlighted points

Whereas our conscious mind is bound by the perimeters of space time, our subconscious isn’t. That means the stories of our dreams may not make sense in a linear – physics as we know it type of way.

So we shouldn’t expect it to even if it seems to. They’re abstract and should be interpreted as such even if it was a well put together story.

You know in middle school Lit where you couldn’t just read the story becasue the teacher wanted you to instead look for hidden symbolisms and meanings and what the author may have meant by XYZ?

It’s like that, but arguably much easier since the messages and meanings are both written and meant for your unique ways of thinking.

Our subconscious (and/or guides) are taking the raw building blocks of how they know to communicate (energy and vibration) and attempting to relay a message in a way they hope YOU SPECIFICALLY may understand.

That means your symbolism may be different from what’s in the books. A red bird to one may mean abundance but to you specifically, who was, I dunno, chased through the house as a child by a red bird (shrug) may interpret it as fear or caution.

Anything could literally mean anything.

You get the drift. So look at what things in the dream mean to YOU when you’re interpreting.

Dream Interpretation

Dream interpretation is fun but remember the functional application that it has for our healing and progression in manifesting. It’s an extension of ourselves and the emotional guidance system that codes our existence.

Be careful not to pick up any false / limiting / harmful beliefs that may hold you back from your full potential.

You want to explore the dream with an open mind and be weary of assigning meanings to things simply because someone else said a certain aspect means XYZ.

Allow your intuition to assign the meanings and trust what it gives you.

What emotions are present in the dream?

To what degree? (Some may be bigger than others and thus, more important)

What seemed important?

Which emotions were tied to what symbols?

What else stood out?

Who was there?

Were there any patterns?

Don’t take anything for face value. Our dreams are just an introspective tool for the understanding and navigation of our world.

They’re a secret language meant for you and only you. The more you practice interpreting your dreams, the easier it will be to figure out what they mean and where they’re trying to lead you.

Let’s Interpret a Dream Together:

For example, in my dream last night, I was a bystander. I was just watching everything unfold and it was like a TV show (station 19 to be exact) and the theme was 1 person was leaving his wife for another and wanting to have babies.

Most of it was meh emotionally but the babies part was emphasized. They were having multiples (like whole damn litters) and hoping for girls.

This meant to me that I’m here to help women and since my emotions were calm and peaceful, it signaled that I’m on the right track with that.

look for things that are emotionally charged to interpret your dreams. If it seems insignificant or matter of factly, it probably is.

Try to leave bias out of it. Like in my dream, a man was leaving his wife for another woman. This is obviously something many people would have emotions about in real life. In the dream though, it was just part of the story. It didn’t mean anything significant and I could feel that.

Tips for Interpreting Your Dreams

The best time to practice dream interpretation is first thing in the morning, as soon as you wake.

Try and immediately write them down and ponder them. Any sort of distraction in between waking and writing will risk fading details.

Dream interpretation is a personal art that comes with practice. Although it’s helpful to discuss with others and bounce potential meanings back and forth (especially if this person is familiar with you and your life), I don’t believe anyone can accurately interpret them as you can.

https://earthandwater.co/how-to-interpret-your-dreams/

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buckybarnesdollface · 2 years

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I’ll Be Your Santa: Part II

Summary: The former Winter Soldier plays Santa when reader is feeling down about the holidays.

Warnings: Smut, female reader

As the day progressed, I felt my spirits lifting more and more, until the Christmas cheer finally consumed me and I felt like my old self again. The compound was decked out in lights and tinsel, ornaments and garland, and it was impossible not to feel festive when around every corner you were met with some sort of Christmas display. Bucky and I had even set up a giant inflatable snowman in the entryway, much to Tony’s disdain.

“First they drag a needle-shedding tree in here, and now this?” he grumbled, and Wanda rolled her eyes.

“It’s cute,” she defended. “Besides, if it makes (Y/N) happy, then that’s the most important thing. The guys pulled her out of her slump, and if it means it’s cheered her up, then all this Christmas stuff is worth it, isn’t it?”

I knew I probably wasn’t supposed to overhear that conversation, but before I could let it have me spiralling back into my grief, Sam was winding an arm around my shoulders and steering me towards the kitchen.

“Pretty sure Frosty’s burning the sugar cookies,” he told me, “and I am not eating crispy Christmas trees. Fix it before he ruins them.”

“Sam, I’m sure they’re fine,” I protested. “I just left him a couple of minutes ago –”

“Can’t take that chance.” He ushered me into the kitchen, where Bucky was just taking the cookies out of the oven. I glanced at the baking sheet and narrowed my eyes at Sam.

“They look fine to me,” I accused, and Bucky’s brow furrowed.

“What’s going on?”

“Sam told me you were burning the cookies,” I replied, and Bucky frowned as I came over to inspect them.

“I didn’t burn them,” Bucky protested, and Sam shrugged.

“To be fair, does anyone really trust you not to screw up in the kitchen?”

“Sam, these cookies are perfect,” I interrupted. “Why did you drag me out here?”

“My bad,” Sam said insincerely as Steve walked in.

“Alright, Sam, let’s leave these two to do their thing; you can have a cookie when they’re cooled off and have been decorated,” he chuckled. I caught the way both Steve’s and Sam’s eyes were sparkling, but I made nothing of it, instead reaching for the green icing we’d mixed up earlier and the plate of cookies that had already cooled off. Bucky frowned as he picked up a spatula.

“They’re up to something,” he grumbled, and I shrugged as I spread the green icing over a Christmas tree-shaped cookie.

“So what if they are. It’s Christmas; let them have their fun.”

Bucky’s lips twitched as he iced his own cookie. “Y’know, I’ve had fun today,” he said, and I smiled.

“Me too,” I admitted. “Thank you, Bucky, really; if it weren’t for you, I probably would have spent the day watching reruns of Criminal Minds or something.”

“I’m just glad to see you smile,” he told me. “If I’m being honest, I was starting to miss it.”

I blushed, and when I reached for the bottle of silver and gold sprinkles, Bucky reached for it at the same time. My fingertips brushed against his and my chest fluttered, blush deepening as I quickly retracted my hand.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, but Bucky was shaking his head.

“Don’t be. Here, you take them first.”

He slid them across the marble countertop to me, and I hesitantly picked them up just as Peter walked into the kitchen.

“I knew I smelled sugar cookies,” he breathed. “They smell so good. When can I have one?”

“I’ll let you know as soon as they’re ready, Pete,” I chuckled, still lightheaded. I was aware of Bucky’s eyes on me, and I wet my lips as I refocused my attention on Peter. “It won’t be much longer.”

“Alright,” he said enthusiastically, and he paused on his way out the door. “Oh, by the way, you two are aware that there’s mistletoe hanging above you, right?”

Bucky and I both let our gazes wander up as Peter left the room. Sure enough, there was a sprig of mistletoe hung with a red ribbon from the linear chandelier above the counter. The heat crept up my neck to my cheeks, and I watched the apple in Bucky’s throat bob up and down as he swallowed hard.

“I think I figured out what Steve and Sam were up to,” he said, and I bit my lip.

“But why would they…” I started, but stopped and shook my head. “They’re probably watching us right now, aren’t they?”

Bucky nodded. “Likely,” he agreed. There was something in his eyes I couldn’t quite read. “Look, (Y/N), we don’t have to entertain them. We can pretend we never saw it, like it’s not even there.”

“It’s bad luck for a woman to refuse a kiss under the mistletoe,” I said quietly, and I watched as Bucky’s eyes widened slightly. I was shocked at myself, but the next thing I knew, Bucky was setting his spatula on the counter and gently pulling mine from my hand. My heart was hammering against my ribcage at this point, and my mouth was suddenly dry. My tongue darted out to wet my lips, and Bucky’s gaze fell to my mouth briefly before lifting back up to my eyes.

“Are you sure?” he asked me, eyes searching mine for any sign of uncertainty. “(Y/N), if you aren’t comfortable –”

My voice was shaky when I spoke, but it was sincere. “Kiss me,” I whispered, and with a soft noise in the back of his throat, Bucky’s hands gently cradled my face and tilted my gaze up to his, one hand warm and rough and the other cool and smooth. The thumb of his flesh hand tugged lightly at my bottom lip and my breath hitched as my eyes remained trapped in his. When Bucky leaned in, I tilted my head towards his, hands finding his waist, and when his lips tentatively met mine my grip on him tightened. His lips were soft and warm, and my eyes drifted shut as they moved slowly against mine. When he pulled away, he nuzzled his nose against mine affectionately, but I wasn’t ready to let him stop so soon; I chased his lips with mine, and when they reconnected, I hugged myself closer to him, hands slipping around his back as my body pressed to his. He was warm and solid against me, and while his flesh hand slid back to cradle my neck and hold my head to his, his vibranium hand found the small of my back to anchor me to him.

Bucky kissed me languidly, like he was learning his way around my mouth, his lips gentle against mine as his tongue swept feather-light over my bottom lip. My mouth yielded to his, and when his hot breath mingled with mine, I started feeling lightheaded. Just when he had kissed me nearly breathless, he detached his lips from mine, forehead pressed to mine and hot breath fanning over my face as I struggled to even my own breathing.

“We should finish these cookies,” he said after a moment, eyes sparkling, and then he was pulling away from me and picking up his spatula. He continued to spread icing over the cookies as if nothing had happened, while I was still leaning against the counter, head dizzy and heart slamming against my ribcage. Finally, I swallowed hard and managed to compose myself enough to resume my spot next to Bucky, but my cheeks remained hot and I was hyperaware of how close his body was to mine.

Later that evening, a bunch of the team had settled in the common room for a movie night. As they argued over what to watch, they also admired the decorations Bucky and I had put up.

“It’s gorgeous in here,” Wanda breathed as she looked around. “You really outdid yourself, (Y/N).”

“I had some help,” I replied, shooting a shy glance at Bucky, who’d already stretched out on the leather chaise and was having a conversation with Steve. As if he could sense my eyes on him, he lifted his gaze to mine and my cheeks grew hot. His smile was warm and wide, though, and he motioned for me to come over.

“Looks like you’re wanted over there,” Wanda said with a smirk, nudging me towards the guys. Cheeks darkening even more, I made my way over to the other side of the room.

“There she is,” Steve said. “No one can stop talking about the fantastic job you did sprucing this place up.”

“We did,” I corrected, and Bucky grinned.

“I only followed your lead, boss,” he chuckled, and then he sat up straighter. “You picked a place to sit yet?”

I bit my lip. “Uh…not yet. I figured I’d just sit on the couch with Nat and Clint –”

But Bucky was shaking his head. “There’s plenty of room here with me,” he insisted, and then he was slipping his hand around mine and tugging me down gently onto the chaise next to him. He kept my hand in his, and I was very aware of the way Steve was smirking at us.

“So, what movie are we watching?” Tony asked. Peter was the first to speak up.

“Home Alone!” he suggested, and my face blanched. Bucky must have noticed the change in my expression, because his brow furrowed and his grip on my hand tightened.

“(Y/N), are you alright?” he murmured, low enough that just Steve and I could hear him. “What’s wrong?”

Embarrassed, I ducked my head. “I’m fine,” I mumbled. “It’s just…Home Alone was my parents’ favourite movie. We watched it every Christmas, and I don’t know if I’m ready to watch it without them.”

Understanding crossed Bucky’s face. “I can tell them to pick a different movie,” he suggested softly, and I shook my head.

“No; everyone’s already had to accommodate me too much lately. I can handle it.” I took a shaky breath. “Besides, it might be good for me to watch it. I can’t keep avoiding everything that reminds me of my parents.”

Bucky’s thumb rubbed over the back of my hand softly. “If it gets to be too much,” he murmured, “just let me know, alright? And in the meantime, I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

I turned my head to look at him, swallowing hard when I was met with twin pools of blue, burning with sincerity. I could feel Steve next to us, actively trying to pretend he wasn’t listening, not wanting to intrude on the moment. Bucky offered me a small smile, which I returned hesitantly.

“C’mere,” he urged, and then he was sitting back and letting his legs hang over the sides of the chaise, leaving a space for me to sit in front of him. Biting my lip, I turned and scooted back until my back was pressed to Bucky’s chest. He slipped his flesh arm casually around my waist, tugging me closer to him, and as his vibranium fingertips swept lightly down my arm, I felt myself relaxing against him.

The tightness in my chest started dissipating not long into the movie – Any time I felt my grief manifesting as a lump in my throat, I would focus on Bucky’s vibranium arm, secure around my waist, or the way he’d laced his flesh fingers through mine. Eventually, I allowed myself to enjoy the movie the way I used to, and I was laughing along with everyone else.

“There’s that infectious laugh of yours,” Bucky murmured, chin resting on my shoulder and mouth at my ear. My cheeks flushed.

“I do love this movie,” I admitted, and Bucky chuckled, chest rumbling against my back.

“It’s a good movie. Kind of reminds me of Die Hard for kids.”

I grinned, and then my attention was pulled back to the movie when the room erupted in laughter. Bucky’s chin remained resting on my shoulder, and at one point, when I threw my head back laughing at one of the funniest scenes, he turned his head to nuzzle his face against my exposed throat.

My breath hitched, and I felt a warmth spread through my entire body. Bucky only pressed a light kiss to the hollow of my throat, though, before turning his attention back to the movie, while I struggled to keep my breathing even.

When the movie ended, the team shifted in their various places around the room, stretching and yawning. Bucky’s arm around me loosened and I sat up, stretching my legs out in front of me and leaning forward to straighten my spine.

“I think I ate too many cookies,” Peter moaned, and Sam nodded.

“Me too, kid. I feel like a stuffed pig.”

“You are a stuffed pig,” Nat teased, and Sam shot her a glare.

“Anyone up for a nightcap?” Tony suggested. I shook my head.

“I’m probably just gonna head to bed – It was a long day turning the compound into Santa’s village for you guys,” I chuckled, and Steve grinned.

“You really did a fantastic job, (Y/N),” he told me, and everyone else agreed.

I thanked everyone and said goodnight, and as I was headed towards the elevator, Bucky jogged to catch up to me. “I’ll walk you to your room,” he offered, and my brow furrowed as I let out a short laugh.

“It’s not very far; I think I can make it without getting lost,” I said wryly. Bucky’s cheeks were tinted pink, and he gave me a disparaging look. I burst into a fit of giggles, but allowed him to fall into step with me.

We stopped outside my door, and all of a sudden Bucky looked anxious, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he ran a hand through his hair. I shot him an enquiring look.

“Buck, what’s going on with you?” I asked slowly, and he shook his head.

“Nothing,” he replied, too casually. I narrowed my eyes at him, and when I realized he wasn’t going to say goodnight I turned the doorknob and pushed the door open slowly.

As soon as I stepped through the door, I was met with the warm glow of Christmas lights, hung in the window and strung around a Christmas tree no taller than I was. The tree was real, filling the room with the scent of fresh balsam as it sparkled with silver and gold ornaments, and the lights in the window twinkled softly. My eyes widened in surprise, and I spun around to look at Bucky, who was standing in my doorway with a sheepish smile on his face.

“Did you…” I started, and Bucky’s grin widened. “Buck, when did you…when did you do this?”

“Before dinner, when you and Wanda were wrapping gifts,” he replied. “I wanted to surprise you – I wanted you to have some Christmas cheer in here, too, to remind you how much you love the holidays.”

I tried to swallow the lump in my throat but failed, and tears pooled in the corners of my eyes. I tried to speak, but my lip was quivering so hard that instead I threw my arms around Bucky and buried my face in his chest. His arms circled around me and held me tight to him, and when I lifted my head to meet his eyes, he gently brushed away my tears with his thumb.

“Do you like it?” he asked, suddenly uncertain, and I nodded vehemently.

“I love it,” I breathed. “Bucky, it’s beautiful. I can’t believe you did this for me.”

“(Y/N), after everything I did today, you really don’t get it?” he murmured, eyes soft. “I would do anything for you if it meant making you smile.”

I blinked, processing Bucky’s words, and then I was pulling his face down to mine to crash my lips to his.

There was no hesitation this time as Bucky’s lips moved with mine, his hands finding my waist and pulling me closer to him. His kiss was firm but tender, and when we broke apart, he continued to press soft kisses to my face and throat until I was ducking my head and giggling.

“Did you really mean what you said?” I asked quietly after catching my breath, and Bucky traced his thumb over my bottom lip.

“Of course I did, (Y/N). I’ve been meaning to tell you this for awhile now, but I never knew how. I…I have feelings for you. And if you don’t feel the same, I understand, but I just needed to put it out there –”

I cut Bucky off, crashing my lips to his once again. This time it caught Bucky off-guard and he stumbled a bit before his arms slid under my thighs and he lifted me. My legs locked around his waist as he deepened the kiss, and he laid me down on the bed before detaching his lips from mine and resting his forehead against mine.

“I don’t want to rush this,” he murmured, voice hoarse and apologetic, and I reached up to run my fingertips along his jaw lightly.

“That’s okay,” I breathed. “Is there any way you would do one more thing for me, though, before the day is over?”

Bucky pressed a soft kiss to the tip of my nose. “Anything,” he said without hesitation.

“Stay with me tonight?”

Bucky’s eyes widened slightly, but then he was shifting our bodies so he could pull back the covers of the bed. I curled against Bucky’s side, and he pressed his lips to the crown of my head as he pulled the blankets back over us.

“Get some sleep, doll,” he murmured. I hummed contentedly, my eyes drifting shut as I succumbed to my exhaustion.

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ •• ✼

“Sergeant Barnes.”

I groaned, still half-asleep, and Bucky shifted behind me. His arm around my waist loosened, and he sighed as he rolled away from me onto his back.

“Sergeant Barnes,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. repeated, “Captain Rogers and Mr. Stark request your presence in the conference room immediately.”

Bucky sat up, fully awake now and frowning. I sat up as well, rubbing the sleep from my eyes and looking at Bucky with my brow furrowed.

“What’s going on?” I asked, and Bucky’s frown deepened.

“I don’t know, but it doesn’t sound good.” He slid out of bed and gave me an apologetic look. “I’m sorry I have to rush out, doll. If it wasn’t something important –”

“It’s alright, go do your job,” I insisted. With a small smile, Bucky came over and kissed me softly.

“Hopefully I won’t be long.”

Unfortunately, the meeting was a debriefing about a mission Steve and Bucky had to go on in Moscow. As Bucky tied up his combat boots, I bit my lip.

“Why do you and Steve have to go?” I asked. “No one else on the team could go?”

“Steve and I are most familiar with HYDRA,” Bucky replied as he straightened. He gave me a small smile and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “It’s just a quick trip – I’ll be back before Christmas Eve.”

“You’d better be,” I mumbled, and Bucky lifted my eyes to his.

“I promise. I’ll be there with bells on.”

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ •• ✼

With Bucky gone, the progress I’d made looking past my grief was regressing. I was starting to spend less time with the team and more time alone in my room, staring at the lights twinkling on my little Christmas tree and trying to remind myself that I wasn’t alone. Days passed, and then Christmas Eve arrived. Except Bucky wasn’t here, even though he’d promised.

“Turns out the trade is taking place in Kazan, not Moscow,” Steve said, voice bitter as he explained over the phone to the team what was going on. I felt my heart sink, and Tony pursed his lips.

“So you’re on your way to Kazan now?” he asked.

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“So when will you be back, then?” I struggled to keep my voice steady, but it was difficult to speak around the lump in my throat.

“First thing tomorrow morning,” Bucky cut in. “I know I promised we’d be back today, doll, I’m sorry. But if it all goes well – and I plan on doing everything in my power to make sure it does – then we’ll be flying back tonight so we can be there for Christmas morning.”

“Don’t apologize; you can’t control when these things happen. Just…be safe and hurry back, okay?” I said quietly.

“I – We’ll see you soon, doll,” Bucky assured me in an equally soft voice. I could feel the others’ eyes on me, and I ducked my head to hide my flushed cheeks. We hadn’t told anyone that we’d made our relationship official, but I was sure they all suspected it, especially now.

After the call ended, I slipped out of the conference room with the intention of making a cup of tea and retreating to my room, but Wanda caught my arm in the hallway and pulled me off to the side. My brow furrowed, and she gave me a sympathetic smile.

“I know you’re having a hard time without him being here,” she murmured, and before I could open my mouth to protest, she continued. “(Y/N), you don’t need to be a telepath to notice that your mood improved considerably when you started spending more time with Barnes, and then dropped again when he left. It’s clear he means a lot to you.”

I blushed. “It’s that obvious, huh?” I mumbled, and Wanda grinned.

“Let’s just say for a minute in there, it felt like the rest of us were intruding on something private.” When I groaned, Wanda shook her head, chuckling. “Oh, stop; it was cute. And if it makes you feel better, he was serious – That man will do anything to get back here to you by tomorrow morning. Now come on; I refuse to let you spend the day moping. You’re going to spend the rest of the day helping me and Scott prep for Christmas dinner tomorrow night.”

Wanda kept me busy for the rest of the day, and by the time I crawled into bed that night I was exhausted. That didn’t stop me from curling up under the covers and staring longingly at my Christmas tree, though, wishing that Bucky was here with me and not halfway across the world.

Sleep, although I did achieve it, was short-lived; I awoke only a couple of hours after drifting off, to the sound of someone moving around my room. Swallowing my panic, I slowly reached for the handgun I had hidden under the nightstand, clicking off the safety and silently turning towards the intruder.

“Jesus, doll. You wouldn’t shoot Santa Claus, would you?”

I blinked. “Bucky…?”

It was indeed Bucky, dressed in a full Santa suit minus the white beard; his smiling face looked tired, dark circles under his sparkling blue eyes, and his scruffy face even scruffier than the last time I’d seen him, but it was him. He was here.

“Why don’t you put the gun down, doll,” he said slowly, and with flushed cheeks I turned the safety back on and dropped it on the nightstand. I shook my head, brow furrowed.

“How…” I started, then paused and started over. “You told me you’d be back tomorrow morning; how did you get here so quickly? And what are you doing dressed like Santa?”

“It was meant to be a surprise,” he replied. “We didn’t go to Kazan – We had just finished the mission when we called. I had to make sure you wouldn’t be up waiting for me, so I had to convince you I wouldn’t be home till tomorrow. That way I could sneak in here dressed as Santa, put your presents under the tree, and surprise you.”

“Presents?” I glanced at the empty bag in Bucky’s hand, and then to the assortment of neatly-wrapped gifts under the tree, and my eyes widened. “Are those all for me?”

Bucky’s eyes sparkled. “Not all of them. I had help from a certain scarlet-headed elf who so graciously handed over the gifts you’d been hiding from me.”

“Wanda,” I muttered, and Bucky nodded.

“Yes, but don’t be mad at her,” he told me. “She was only helping me. I…” Now he looked uncertain, shifting from one foot to the other and swallowing hard. “I was hoping you and I could have our own Christmas morning, just the two of us, before we join the rest of the team.”

Tears pricked the corners of my eyes, and I struggled to speak around the lump in my throat. “You went to all this trouble for me?” I whispered. Bucky shook his head.

“It was no trouble at all, (Y/N),” he breathed. “I told you I planned on making this Christmas special for you. This includes more than just getting you a Christmas tree and decorating the compound with you.” Bucky smirked. “Santa’s job isn’t done until the holidays are over and everyone is happy.”

“I thought I was Santa and you were my little helper,” I said wryly, and Bucky winked.

“Even Santa deserves a break. Tonight, I’m your Santa.”

I was overwhelmed by Bucky’s actions, and the tears pooling in my eyes spilled down my cheeks. Pushing off the covers, I slid out of bed and ran to close the distance between Bucky and I. He dropped the empty gift bag and caught me when I launched myself at him, hands secure under my thighs as my arms wound around his neck and I crashed my lips to his.

I kissed him hard and desperate, and Bucky’s hands tightened on my thighs when my tongue traced along the seam of his lips. His mouth yielded to mine and then his tongue darted out to meet mine, deepening the kiss. I let out a quiet moan and Bucky’s lips stilled. He pulled away just slightly, pupils dilated as his eyes met mine.

“Shit, I missed you,” he said hoarsely, and I grinned, playfully tugging at the pom-pom of his Santa hat until it slid off his head. I tugged it onto my own head before carding my fingers through his thick, dark hair, and Bucky let out a quiet sigh, eyes drifting shut. When he reopened them, they were even darker than before.

“I missed you, too,” I whispered, and then Bucky’s lips were back on mine. He carried me to the bed and laid me down carefully amongst the blankets, all the while keeping our lips connected as he crawled on top of me.

I slid my hands down Bucky’s arms, the soft velvet of the Santa suit smooth under my palms. I started giggling and Bucky pulled away from me, brow furrowed.

“Something funny, doll?” he asked, and I shook my head, still giggling.

“I just never thought I’d be so attracted to a guy in a Santa suit, but damn, Barnes, I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t doing something for me.”

Bucky’s smirk was wicked. “Mmm, you like the suit? I borrowed it from Clint, but we could always keep it and pretend something happened to it.”

As he spoke, his nose skimmed along my jaw and down my throat, where he peppered soft, open-mouthed kisses along the delicate skin there. My breath hitched and my eyes fluttered closed.

“Bucky…” I whispered, and his flesh hand traced feather-light over the curve of my cheekbone.

“What do you want for Christmas, (Y/N)?” he murmured. “Tell Santa Claus what you want.”

“I want you,” I rasped, eyes opening to meet his. Bucky’s pupils were blown, and his tongue darted out to wet his lips.

“You know you already have me, baby girl,” he breathed, and then he was kissing me deeply. My hands found the buckle of the big black belt holding the jacket of the suit closed, and I undid the buckle with eager fingers before sliding it out of the loops and tossing it carelessly to the floor. The jacket fell open, revealing the tight white tank top Bucky wore underneath. I slid the jacket from his shoulders and he shrugged it off before reattaching his lips to mine.

My fingers tugged the hem of his shirt from the waistband of the red velvet pants so my hands could slip underneath to run over smooth, hot skin. Bucky’s muscles tightened and contracted under my touch, and his teeth nipped playfully at my bottom lip as a low growl rumbled in his chest.

“For someone who liked me so much in this suit, you’re awful eager to get me out of it,” he teased, and I gave him a lazy smile.

“I’m just trying to open my present, baby,” I said innocently. Bucky’s eyes darkened, but he didn’t stop me as my hands slid up his body, lifting the shirt with them and tugging it over his head. I tugged my bottom lip between my teeth as I marvelled at how beautiful he was, fingertips tracing over the dips and planes of his torso. Bucky’s breaths were shallow but even as my hands explored his body, but when I reached the waistband of his pants, his vibranium hand closed around my wrist to stop me.

“Not yet,” he said in a raspy voice, and I nodded meekly as he laid me back down, his lips capturing mine in a languorous kiss. His fingertips danced along the exposed skin where my t-shirt had ridden up my stomach, and when he slowly inched it further up my body I didn’t resist, arching my back so he could yank it over my head, leaving me bare from the waist-up.

Bucky’s eyes landed almost immediately on my breasts, and his tongue darted out to wet his lips. “Christ, you’re breathtaking,” he murmured huskily, and my entire body grew hot under his gaze and his words. Wordlessly, I reached up for him, and he closed the distance between us to press his lips to mine, soft and sweet.

Bucky’s lips broke from mine to trail down my throat, over my collarbone, and then his teeth grazed the flesh of my breast gently. I gasped, back arching towards him, and Bucky shot me a lazy grin before his lips wrapped around my nipple while his flesh hand cupped my other breast. I keened as he sucked lightly, tongue swirling around the pebbled bud, and then he switched, mouth on the other breast as his vibranium hand fondled the other one.

Heat pooled between my legs, and I squirmed uncomfortably to try and relieve some of the pressure. Bucky stilled, and then he was pulling away from my breasts with sparkling eyes.

“Impatient, doll?” he teased, and I pouted.

“When do I get to open my present?” I whined, and Bucky tutted at me.

“Be patient, doll, I promise I’ll make it worth the wait,” he assured me. “Besides, you don’t want to start getting bratty now; bratty girls don’t get Christmas presents.”

My eyes narrowed. “Did you just call me a brat, Barnes?” I asked indignantly, but Bucky only smirked before he was sliding down my body. He pressed a chaste kiss to my navel, and then the next thing I knew he was tugging my flannel pyjama bottoms and my underwear from my hips and discarding them on the floor with my t-shirt.

Now that I was completely exposed to him, I was beginning to feel self-conscious. Bucky was quick to ease my nerves, though, ghosting kisses along the inside of my thigh before breathing, “So perfect.” The warm exhale of his breath hit my damp core and I shivered.

“Buck…” I whimpered, and his hands ran soothingly along my thighs, gently pushing them further apart as he did so.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he murmured, and then he lowered his head and pressed his face into my folds. My hips jerked, and when his tongue sought out my clit I moaned, the sound shamelessly ripping from my throat. Bucky’s mouth explored my heat with the eagerness of a starved man being given his first meal in weeks, and the precision of a man that had spent months learning what his lover liked. It didn’t take long for the coil to tighten in my belly, and I was a writhing mess under Bucky’s ministrations, sweat beading on my forehead and my breaths coming out short and shallow.

When Bucky’s lips wrapped around my clit and sucked, hard, I cried out and my hands tangled in Bucky’s hair, tugging at the dark strands as my hips bucked into his face. He growled, grip on my hips tightening until I was positive there’d be bruises, but it didn’t matter; all I could focus on was the way his mouth was working me. Bucky didn’t let up, and the next thing I knew the coil in my belly snapped and my body exploded in white-hot heat as I cried out Bucky’s name.

He helped me ride out my high with gentle licks and kisses, and then he slid up my body to capture my lips in his. Having recovered from my orgasm, my hands slid down his body and pushed his pants and his boxer briefs from his hips. Bucky growled but quickly kicked them off his legs, leaving him as naked as I was. I could feel him, hot and heavy against my thigh, and my stomach fluttered in anticipation.

“Please…” I whispered, and with burning eyes, Bucky lined himself up with my entrance and sank in slowly.

A low hiss passed through Bucky’s clenched teeth, and I whined as he stretched and filled me in a way I’d never been before. He gave me a moment to adjust, nuzzling his face against mine, his breaths warm and ragged against my already-flushed skin. I was the first to move, fingers carding through his dark hair to tug his lips to mine as my hips rolled up into his. Bucky grunted, and then his grip on me tightened as he nipped at my bottom lip.

“Hard or soft, doll?” he asked, voice hoarse and low in my ear. “Tell me what you want. This is about you.”

I turned my head to meet his eyes, fingers still tangled in his hair. His eyes were dark, the reflection of the Christmas lights glittering in his blown pupils, and I scratched my nails lightly across his scalp.

“I want you to do whatever you want to me,” I whispered. “I’m yours, Buck. This isn’t just about me, it’s about both of us. All I want is you.”

With a strangled groan, Bucky dipped his head to kiss me fiercely, as he pulled almost all the way out of me just to rock his hips back into mine forcefully. I cried out, fingers tightening in his hair, and Bucky continued the rough pace he’d set until the room was filled with the sounds of harsh breathing and the slap of skin on skin.

Just as I thought the pressure in me was about to burst, Bucky rolled us over so I was on top. This new position had him even deeper inside me and I paused for a moment, hands braced on Bucky’s sweat-slicked chest as I relished in how well he filled me. Hands still braced against him, I raised and lowered my hips slowly on his length, moaning at the way he dragged along my walls. He was watching me with nearly-black eyes, bottom lip tugged between his teeth.

“Fuck, you are a vision right now,” he murmured, voice husky as his thumbs rubbed circles into my hipbones. “With the Christmas lights, it’s like you’re glowing. You look ethereal.”

My cheeks flushed, but I smirked as I rolled my hips against Bucky’s and he groaned. His grip on my hips tightened, and then he was rocking his hips up into mine roughly and I fell forward with a gasp. Chests pressed together and faces only centimetres apart, we fell into a slow but deep rhythm, breaths hot against each other’s faces. The heat in my belly grew, and when Bucky’s teeth grazed over my shoulder, I whimpered.

“You’re so close, doll, I can feel it,” he grunted. “It’s okay, let go. I’m right behind you. Come for me, baby girl, come on. I’ve got you.”

His words were all I needed to push me over the edge, and as the pressure in me snapped, I moaned shamelessly. Less than two seconds later, I could feel Bucky twitch inside of me, and then his release painted my walls as he groaned out my name, which only drew out my own orgasm as my heart fluttered in my ribcage.

Neither of us moved for the longest time, just enjoying our closeness. My body was draped over Bucky’s, his arms circled around me and his softening member still inside me. His flesh hand smoothed over my hair as he pressed a kiss to my forehead.

“It’s after midnight,” he murmured. “Merry Christmas, (Y/N).”

I lifted my head to meet his eyes and smiled. “Merry Christmas, Buck,” I answered. “Thank you, for everything. I wasn’t looking forward to Christmas at all, but you made it one of the best ones I’ve ever had.”

Bucky’s smile was warm. “It’s not over yet,” he chuckled. “We still have all those presents to open in the morning.”

I grinned lazily at him. “I already opened the present I wanted the most,” I teased, and Bucky’s eyes sparkled.

“Get some sleep, you fool,” he chuckled. “We have a busy day ahead of us tomorrow.”

“As long as you promise we don’t have to leave this room until at least noon.”

A slow smile spread over Bucky’s face. “I don’t think that’ll be a problem, doll.” He rolled over so I was curled against his side, and then kissed me softly. Exhausted, I let my body relax, and we fell asleep, the room glowing with the Christmas lights, and snow starting to fall softly outside the window. If this was how Christmas would look from now on, then I had no doubt it would continue to be my favourite time of year.

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