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not-poignant · 1 year

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*waves* I want to start off by saying that your works have been a huge comfort in my life over the years. They've helped me through some really trialing times and I'm forever thankful for everything you've done, even when life hasn't been kind to you. I've slowly been coming to terms with the fact that I have chronic pain, maybe fatigue too, unknown still. But it's been a hard pill to swallow, I feel so angry that I can't do stuff. Do you or any of your followers have advice for accepting this?

Hi anon,

Firstly, I'm so sorry you're going through this process, especially one that also involves fatigue, because fatigue is a son of a bitch. (You can - to a degree - treat some forms of pain, but there's almost nothing out there for genuine fatigue except rest and the core needs, and even then, it rarely listens).

My advice is going to be from stuff I've mostly learned for myself, but everyone's journey is different. What I like to tell myself might hurt someone else, so if I say anything here that doesn't work for you, remember it's important to find your own things too.

If necessary, look for support groups, if you have no diagnosis yet but have chronic pain and fatigue, groups for ME/CFS (Myalgic Encephalitis / Chronic Fatigue Syndrome) and Fibromyalgia are probably the best places to start.

As for advice, the first is that it's normal to be angry and it's normal to feel betrayed (by your body and by a very ableist society) and it's normal to feel sad and upset. Acceptance isn't the absence of these feelings, it's not a place you get to where you transcend these emotions, because it's normal to grieve what the course of life has taken from you. And part of the journey of chronic illness re: accepting where you find yourself, is also accepting the emotions that come with it, even if they feel really ugly or you don't want them. Not being able to do stuff you used to do, or the way you used to do it - of course you'd be angry, because that's loss. And loss by nature, creates grief.

Acceptance is the moment - for me - where you have a bad day re: anger and resentment and can stop and go 'oh of course I feel this way, I have lost a lot, but even though I'm annoyed or angry at my body today, I'm going to be kind to it and care for it to the best of my ability, because I'm sick, and that's what I'd want to do for anyone who was this sick. And I'm going to check if I need to ask for help, and remember that I don't have to do this alone.'

There might come a time when you're ready to brainstorm and problem solve, or days where you have more energy. For example, I can't hike for hours anymore, and haven't been able to for years. But I can stop and think 'what did I like most about hiking?' And it would be - the things in nature I can see. Well, I can still get out to nature, especially on accessible paths, or places that have carparks and botanical gardens. Or it would be physical exertion - well, I can do purposeful physical exertion with very gentle physiotherapy, it's not the same, but it still gives me a feeling of physical accomplishment. Or it would be I really like being in nature - thankfully there are a lot of places you can be in nature if you have friends or Ubers to take you there, and you can also bring nature to you re: plants in the home.

Generally speaking, getting creative with what is lost is part of the process of acceptance. But it doesn't always come straight away, and it doesn't always come without resentment. I have days where I'm still fiercely, fiercely angry that I can't do the things that I used to do. The fact is, the world is ableist, friends have internalised ableism, I'm often feeling guilty or frustrated that I can't do things when I just...can't do them and it's not my fault. I'm just sick.

Definitely consider organising some kind of therapy or even vent sessions with someone you trust (who has the capacity to handle it, though not many folks do, understandably) - medical trauma, and the experience of a chronic illness, can be traumatic. And look around for a good doctor and professional support network.

Pain on its own causes fatigue, so look at enrolling in a pain clinic (they have wait lists, so it's good to get the ball rolling now), and make sure that you've had at the very least a blood panel of your inflammatory markers because many causes of chronic pain can be treated or medically supported.

It's worth making friends with some folks who have chronic illnesses and spoonies, or the people who just 'get it' even if they don't. People who will never pressure you when you have to cancel. People who love you when you don't see them for months at a time. People who understand when you vanish from an online conversation halfway through without saying goodbye. These folks are worth their weight in gold.

There's things like - it's worth exploring concepts like mindfulness in chronic illness, as well as pacing (I hate pacing, but the one time I seriously tried it, I felt better and could do more - it's just so frustrating in concept). It's worth writing down the things that trigger bad episodes of pain or fatigue for you, and then thinking of ways to accommodate those things (for example, socialising causes flares for me, so I don't do it often, and I try not to do too much in one week). Research the 'energy envelope' and learn what yours is.

As to the grief and the anger, this is also something you will go through again and again, though the periods of acceptance may last longer, and feel more genuine. We're not trying to stop the emotions of grief and anger, but it is worth learning how to wrangle those emotions when you turn them against yourself, when you look for something to blame and hurt yourself in the process. Remember, if society accommodated disability and invisible illnesses better, your life would probably be a little easier, some things are actually down to how society treats us. If I knew I could access a program that delivered meals because I'm medically too tired to cook, my life would be easier. So when I go 'fuck my body is useless' - the truth is - society is pretty fucking useless, and my body is doing its goddamn best.

But you can be extremely mad at society for dropping the ball on all of this. Or upset. Or disgusted. Or betrayed. It's all valid. Society drops the ball on chronic pain and illness and fatigue every damn day.

The chronic illness train, for nearly all of us, is one that we board eventually, and it almost always has multiple stops. We never just acquire one thing, because age tends to give us age-related chronic illnesses too (arthritis, hypertension, type 2 diabetes, osteoporosis, etc.). These declines can each come as a new shock, and going through one new illness or symptom isn't always going to look as the same process that preceded it. A new chronic illness might feel like nothing at all if it's easy to manage (see my acquisition of allergic eczema) or it might hit you really hard if it comes with pretty reduced mortality (see my acquisition of COPD). You might get decades between one thing and the next thing, or you might not, but it's a train that in the course of humankind billions of people have been on.

The people who treat you badly for being sick are the ones who refuse to believe the train exists and that it's coming for them. They often think that if they live 'well enough' they can avoid the train (they can't). Maybe that was something you once believed as well. I know I did (and sometimes still do).

And as for when we treat ourselves badly for being sick - some of it's grief and trauma, and a lot of it is internalised ableism. Having a chronic illness is not your fault anon. Even though it doesn't feel like it, your body is doing its best for you, and the process of acceptance is learning that we need to also do our best for our body, and that we should expect society to do the same, even though it often doesn't.

Idk if this was anything along the lines of what you're looking for. Tbh I still find it really hard. December just gone was one of the hardest months I've ever had the misfortune of living through not just because of chronic illness but because of my emotional reaction to three new diagnoses I wasn't prepared for, and I spiralled hard when I realised just how sick I was (no one likes to see 'possible severe liver disease' on a CT scan). We never just go through the anger or grief once, but it does get easier, and the periods of time where we just make our lives into a new shape that pleases us become longer.

Anon, you will find new things that please you and fulfill you even as you lose old things. The new things won't replace those old things, but they will bring moments of ease and comfort and joy. We all experience this process. But do chase them down. Look for them when you have moments of energy. Seek them out. The simple things in life that nourish you, whether it's soft blankets, or good food, or a particular movie or show, or a book. Pain and fatigue are bitches, but many of us with it are avid collectors of 'things that nourish, fulfill and are joyous to us.'

I wish you well with it all! The chronic illness train can feel like a very lonely one because it races us away from the people in our lives who aren't on it yet - but the truth is hundreds of millions of us are on it right now, and there will be lots of different types of advice and support waiting for you, and very few of them will deny you your anger at the situation you find yourself in. Very few people find themselves excited to board the chronic illness train, and often you don't realise it's picked you up until you learn you can't get off.

That part sucks. But accepting that it sucks goes a longer way than trying to convince yourself it shouldn't.

#asks and answers #chronic illness #dodgy advice #you don't need to find any peace or meaning in chronic illness #it's just allowed to suck #but if you like to look for peace or meaning or philosophy #might i recommend mindfulness #and also taoism for me #buddhism works for others #tbh i often settle on 'we are imperfect suits of flesh and this was inevitable'#'but damn i really enjoyed that bubble tea right now and that's all that matters in this one second or minute'#you're gonna get so good at collecting things that you love #but give it time #and be patient with yourself #if you love animals #treat yourself like a puppy that's just acquired a chronic illness #a lot of love #a lot of play #a lot of rest #and support when necessary and possible #i have had days where i've had to: if i was a rescue dog how would i treat me' in order to get through it - and weirdly it helps sdaflkfjsa

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blazehedgehog · 11 months

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Do you think Tears of the Kingdom is an expansion pack of BOTW?

Yes, but not in a negative way.

There was a trend Nintendo had during the Wii U era -- with Mario Kart 8, Hyrule Warriors, etc. They'd do DLC for those games that went above and beyond what anyone expected.

The original Mario Kart 8 DLC (what we now know as Mario Kart 8 DX) nearly doubled the size of that game for like $12. And though I've never sank my teeth in to Hyrule Warriors, a friend often tells me that when that game added new Adventure Mode maps (or whatever they were), it was basically adding multiple hundreds of hours of content.

That's sort of what Tears of the Kingdom feels like. Nintendo had a chance to stop and say "Well, what else can we do here?" And while that lead to things like The Master Trials and the Champions DLC for Breath of the Wild (I never played either), it feels like they just kept going and that's how we ended up with Tears of the Kingdom.

It honestly feels a lot like Super Mario Galaxy 2, to me. It's a thought won't leave me. I feel like a lot of people probably know this, but if you weren't aware, Galaxy 2 originally started out as DLC for the original game. And it just sort of grew, and grew, and grew until it was big enough to fill up a whole entire second game. Since the Wii wasn't really built to handle DLC of that size, and since they had so much content, they just broke it off and sold it on a disc.

There's even evidence buried inside of Galaxy 2. If you have the right tools you can see that the internal disc header for the game identifies it by the name of "Super Mario Galaxy MORE".

I can absolutely imagine that as they were brainstorming Breath of the Wild DLC ideas, somebody suggested adding new areas to the map and it just spiraled out from there.

It also carries that feeling insofar as, like... Super Mario Galaxy 1 has a vibe. Under the normal "Wahoo Mario" feel, it's kind of cold and kind of lonely. It's got that whole sad story with Rosalina's origin buried inside of it, and so on. It conjures different emotions than most Mario games.

Super Mario Galaxy 2 throws all that out the window. It's a much brighter, more energetic game overall, like most Mario games are. That somber, contemplative edge around Galaxy 1 is gone now. Even when it's going for something slower, and more gentle, it's more playful and mysterious. I mean, just compare the File Select themes from Galaxy 1 and Galaxy 2.

This is the way I feel about Tears of the Kingdom. Breath of the Wild, at least as far as it felt to me, was a very heavy game. It opened basically telling you that you had failed to save Hyrule and a lot of the game was about picking up the pieces and trying again. Scars of the lost battle were everywhere, people lived in fear, it was bad.

Tears of the Kingdom is much more hopeful. It's been eight years and Princess Zelda is spearheading a whole restoration effort to reclaim and rebuild Hyrule. Even if there are much scarier monsters roaming around now (and in much greater numbers), that feeling of sadness and oppression is gone. This is a Hyrule on the upswing, and they aren't going to let anything slow that momentum. It's brighter, more lively, more playful. Just like Galaxy 2 was to Galaxy 1.

So yeah, I do kind of feel like Tears of the Kingdom is an expansion for Breath if the Wild, but when it comes to how Nintendo defines an expansion pack, it's still basically its own whole entirely new game with a completely different feel.

#questions #Anonymous #nintendo #zelda #breath of the wild #mario #super mario galaxy #tears of the kingdom

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spitblaze · 10 months

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More Braindead Panic 1 thoughts heehoo

I'm percolating! Thoughts are percolating! Nothing is set in stone I'm just brainstorming here.

So like. I DO wanna pare down the roster now that we don't have to get Every Single Camper in there. We can at least like more easily relegate some characters to background status. Elton doesn't need to be here all the time. Nils is barely ever relevant. Its fine. They don't have to go they can just have greatly reduced roles.

Anyway like. Idk. Everyone is at a university probably, how they are brought together is...slightly unclear. Maybe they're all in the same Psychic Studies class, maybe they're in the same dorm building, maybe they're in an extracurricular together, maybe they're all participating in experiments for the psychic science program (willingly, like psych undergrads), maybe they're brought together by happenstance. Whatever. What I'm sure of is that it's not because they all have the same major. Koschei is undeclared (maybe history or wildlife management actually?), Rue is botany/biochem, Not Vernon is doing something in either English or film. You get it.

So what's the plot. Good question! Like I mentioned before my brain took some stuff from Gideon the Ninth and ran with it but I didn't really have much else until I got back into octopath and started thinking about Cyrus Albright's story again, which. I will not spoil but has influenced my ideas here

So there's either an old psychic studies building or a door in the current building/labs that nobody ever opens, right? It's always closed, it has a sign that says 'do not open', and as far as most of the students and faculty are concerned, the sign is put up because there's something maintenance or campus IT will yell at them for messing with otherwise. The only people who would suspect something is fishy are those who notice the door is lined with something to prevent psychic observation and interference in an area other than the labs.

And then one day one of the students goes missing. A psychic one. A lot of rumors abound- did they drop out without telling anyone? Did the stress of college get to them? Were they kidnapped? Was it a hate crime? Nobody knows. And nobody knows until Koschei finds himself on the other side of the door a few days later. Idk why he's there. Maybe he was invited to a trial, maybe it was open late at night and their curiosity got the better of them, doesn't matter. The point is that what's on the other side of the door isn't a maintenance room, or a server room, or anything else sensitive but normal. It’s a staircase into a huge underground facility full of weird labs and archive and test chambers. And in one of the labs is the desiccated husk of that missing classmate. Someone notices Koschei and he barely makes it out alive. But like- holy shit, what WAS that?? What can he do??? Who will believe him???? He could go to the campus cops, but he knows they won't do shit. He could tell the faculty of the university, but would they believe him, or would he invite further danger on himself??

So he ends up telling his two closest friends (and maybe study partners? [Who will become his Romantic Partners over the course of the story]), Rue and Vernon (new name pending). And then it becomes a whole thing, going on expeditions into the facility to find out what happened to their classmate, what's being studied down there, and why other psychics around campus are disappearing as well.

#spitblaze says things #braindead panic

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essayisms · 3 years

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Hello! If you don't mind can you tell me how you organised your journal for your academics.I am a maths major and I wanted to do that for my proofs as well.I did try searching on the internet but I didn't get anything good.

Thank You in advance xx

It was a really basic format honestly ! So these are all the journals I kept during my whole undergraduate degree.

The black ones were for course and module information, lecture notes, to do lists and essay plans.

The dark and light yellow were a reading journal and a dissertation journal. I wanted to separate my own impressions of texts and I wanted to keep all my dissertation research and planning in one separate place as obviously I was conducting it by myself.

Black Journals

At the start of every year I would write down all the essential information from each of the four modules I was taking. This is an example (I have whited out the name and email of my course convened and lecturer for privacy reasons). But it includes contact information, lecture and seminar hours and locations, learning outcomes and assessment criteria (the things you will be assessed on, obviously paying attention to these helped me get top grades), assessment information (how many essays or exams I had that year and how much they contributed to my final mark and how many words they were) and finally the primary reading list.

This is what a spread of my lecture notes looks like. I always hand wrote my lecture notes because I couldn’t retain information and didn’t enjoy using a laptop. In my first two years I used a rough notebook to write them down then wrote them up neatly later, which was too time consuming for third year. But by that time I had developed my note taking skills and felt confident writing them up as I listened in the lecture. I just wrote the name of the module and the text we were studying and the date for reference. I would change to a red pen for anything I felt was key information. I know most people won’t like this method but I write fast and quite neatly !

My to do lists, essay plans etc didn’t really have a format obviously. I just wrote down what I needed to do, did some rough mind mapping, occasionally put a little doodle in. My essay plans were sort of all over the place but this is where I did my essential planning and then rough work tended to be on scraps of paper or on the draft essay document. The first is a checklist at the end of the year and the second is one of the essay plans/brainstorms for an essay I got a first in.

Yellow Journals

(i.) Reading Journal

I kept a reading journal throughout university, which I wish I had used more. It’s literally just a brain dump of all my thoughts and impressions of what I was reading and any quotes I found relevant. I included secondary reading in this too in my final year. It’s something I’m going to carry on with because I love having somewhere to keep my stream of consciousness about literature. It was so helpful for me to read over this when I was writing my essays because there were some really insightful bits of analysis or key things that I had forgotten and needed reminding of. Highly recommend everyone doing this, if not on paper then on a document on your laptop !

(ii.) Dissertation Journal

There was very little method to this journal. But having it all in one place really kept me organised. It was a place of messy but very important brainstorming, figuring out and rough work. It’s the sort of thing that’s probably only coherent to me. I just wrote down what I needed to do as I went along. So in the early stages there was a lot of trial ideas, there was pages of information about how we should structure and deal with our dissertations from lectures, deadlines etc.

The first image is the first page where I started writing out some vague ideas about the topics I wanted my dissertation to address and which literature that worked with. The last two are just an example of what some of my working out looked like, how I was deciding to structure my argument, and which secondary materials and theorists I would use for each chapter. But there were all sorts of things in there, random tangential points and ideas I needed to note down, tips about how to write an effective dissertation etc. It ended up being my highest grade so this definitely worked for me !

#answered

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mercurial-madhouse · 3 years

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Tips for Writing Multiple Fics at Once

"I always feel like there is this one little secret to writing multiple stories at the same time that just nobody is telling me about."

A fellow author made this comment in a writers’ group chat today. If you're a writer, chances are you have a folder of ideas waiting to be written. Writers are idea-generating machines. Maybe you even have stories started and set aside, begging you to Write me!.

If you write fanfiction, where shorter tales are constantly appealing to be started and a multiplicity of prompts and Fic Fests await you, that list of stories you're dying to write can grow taller than Jack's beanstalk. The answer for some authors? Write multiple fics at the same time! Why not?

I'd never consciously thought about my process before, but for anyone who is interested in having more than one story in the works at once, here are my thoughts compiled into something coherent.

CREATE AN OVERVIEW DOCUMENT. We try to use our brains to store everything, but the human mind isn't programmed like that. (All of us who have more than one fic in progress will joke about how terrible our memories are.) It's like only knowing how to juggle three balls but refusing to let go of the five balls you're planning on learning to juggle next. Set those fic-balls down. Turn each story into a physical or electronic sticky note, so to speak. Include as many or as few details as you want, but what’s important is that you can see them all at once. Here are some ideas: -Colour code your documents on Google Docs. Before writing, look at them all and ask the question above, making a conscious choice to write just one colour. Once that Google Doc is open, the others don't exist. -Have due dates? Compile a list of your stories by due date. Do you have to go with the earliest? No, but if dates are important to you, it could be helpful to sort it that way. -(Yoinked this technique from a beloved author of mine.) Compile a single bullet journal page each month with your entire story list. The six most important stories each have a checklist that includes things like due date and the status, such as: brainstormed, started, completed, edited, etc. The rest are just listed by title and due date. -Maybe you need a happy medium? How about an electronic document where you can see everything on one screen with the bare essentials: Title, summary, due date (if applicable), and your progress. (i.e. 15k/50k or 1/4 or even “HALFWAY THERE!”)

Have fun! By checking what you have in process each time you sit down to write, you're less likely to be concerned about forgetting an upcoming due date.

PICK ONE. Active, single-minded focus is important whether you have other stories waiting in the wings or not. Having multiple stories in process simply means that sitting down for a writing session includes an extra step, a question:

Which story am I going to focus on right now?

How you make that decision and for how long that choice stands is a topic for a different post. What's important here is that once you decide, you stick to it. All of your other stories do not exist while you are in this document.

STICK TO IT.

You may choose to write that one story for 10 minutes, 30 minutes, an hour, an entire day, or even until the draft is completed. But the biggest secret to writing multiple stories at once is... *drumroll please*

...not writing multiple stories at the same time. Truly. This may appear obvious, but hear me out. Take a look at your thoughts the next time you're writing: Are they always focused on the story in front of you? Probably not. No matter how many stories we have that are in process, we are never actively working on more than one at one time.

I can hear the questions flying now. What if I forget something in another story? What if I focus too long on this one and run out of time on another? What if I can't stop thinking about another story? What if I'm always having all these ideas for my other stories even when I'm working on one?

If an idea for another story barrels into your skull while writing, scribble it down in a notebook and set it aside for later. Can't stop thinking about a different story than the one you chose? Then turn your focus and give yourself some time to choose that one. Trust yourself.

THE TAKEAWAY.

This isn't a magical formula by any means. Ask any author who has several stories in progress and their practices will be different. Trial and error are your best friends for finding what works for you. Will it take practice? Yep. Extra work? Yep. A mindset shift? Probably. Dedication in order to keep your focus on one story? Yep. Is it impossible? Absolutely not! So even if you have fifty in-process stories, when you sit down to write, my recommendation is to know your options (overview), make your choice (Which story am I working on right now?), then stick to it (Write me!).

Have something else you’d like to chat about? I’m open to anything concerning the writing process. My goal is to keep writers writing by offering tips and tricks I’ve learned along the way.

You’ll find my Plotting vs. Pantsing fictalk here.

#writing tips #writing advice #writing thoughts #fictalk

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thanksjro · 3 years

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More Than Meets the Eye #30 - The Cybertronian Judicial System is a Friggin’ Joke

Have I mentioned that I’m not a huge fan of court case stories? I think they’re pretty boring, on average, so the last couple of issues have been slightly dragging for me.

Anyway, back to Megatron’s trial.   Our issue opens up with a full back shot of Ultra Magnus.

Artists take note, he really is built like a capital T.

As Magnus reads out Megatron’s statement retracting his “guilty” plea, we get some decent points as to why. See, telling a guy that you’ll stab him in the brain, so his trial can be over as quickly as possible, maybe isn’t such a hot idea. Megatron wasn’t a huge fan of that, or of how those memories they would’ve yanked outta him would have been used to fuel the Autobot propaganda machine. Why, you may ask?

Well, I don’t know if you knew this or not, but Megatron… doesn’t particularly care for the Autobots, nor the rhetoric they uphold.

I know, I was surprised too!

There’s also the fact that Optimus Prime is the judge on this whole thing. You know. Optimus Prime. Off and on leader of the Autobots, whenever it suits him. The guy who fucked off into space for a year after the war. The guy who threw a hissy fit when someone pointed out that he was compromised the last time they did something like this with Megatron. This guy:

Yeah, there might be a slight conflict of interests here. Remind me again why this had to be a military trial?

Anyway, enough of that, it’s time for a fight scene.

A swarm of Decepticons storm the arena, going after Megatron so they can help him escape. Magnus, though acting as Megatron’s defense, cannot abide by this disorder in the court.

Wild to think there’s a tiny little Pringles man with anxiety in there, isn’t it?

Optimus joins the fray, because there really are, just, so many guys to deal with here. A dude goes to collect Megatron, stating that they brought teleport packs for this little shindig. Megatron isn’t super jazzed about that though, not bothering to grab on before the dude gets shot to death. There’s a brief recess, I guess so the janitorial staff can deal with the mess of corpses littering the courtroom.

Meanwhile, in the present day, Rung’s building a model spaceship in Swerve’s, which is a very brave thing to be doing, seeing how sticky and gross bars can be. Brainstorm’s brought a flask to the bar, and proceeds to pour the contents into a funnel sticking out of his arm.

Our bartender for the evening- I’m assuming it’s evening, but I doubt the concept of time has any real weight in space- is Bluestreak. Bluestreak was stationed on Earth for a while, which is some Phase One stuff, and took a liking to human media while he was there. He’s the guy who handles movie night these days, seeing as Rewind’s too busy being dead to do it, and I doubt Chromedome has the emotional bandwidth to take over for his late spouse.

Bluestreak’s favorite movie is Zulu, a film glorifying the colonialism of the English over the native populace of an African kingdom. Make of that what you will.

Whirl wants to watch À Bout de Soufflé, or Breathless, as it was translated for the English-speaking world, which is a French New Wave film about a criminal who shoots a cop, hides from the police in a journalist’s home, who he seduces and likely impregnates. She eventually finds out what he did, reports him to the police, but then has a change of heart and lets him know what she’s done. He runs, but is shot, and dies in the street. The film is notable for its final scene, in which the following dialogue happens, between the dying criminal Michael, his lover Patricia, and an officer.

Of course, any poignancy would almost certainly be lost on the average comic book reader, and is also somewhat nullified by Whirl praising the film with internet lingo.

Then again, I suppose Whirl would be the type to dismantle any deeper reading of his interest in such a film, lest he be subjected to the horrifying ordeal of being known.

Over with Skids and Riptide, it’s revealed that Megatron’s been teaching classes on the Lost Light, specifically on the Knights of Cybertron. Riptide’s getting an education, because he’s been feeling pretty lost since the war ended- we’ll get to the potential whys of that later on. Swerve isn’t a fan of this community college thing that’s going on, stating that Megatron’s using it as a distraction, so he can devise plots most foul.

Back in the past, Autobot high command is having a talk about what Megatron’s demanding, and man is it a doozy— turns out, since the trial’s happening on Luna 2, the trial proceedings are subject to the laws of the moon. One of these moon laws is the right to request being judged by the Knights of Cybertron. Now, this is a problem, seeing as the Knights of Cybertron have been AWOL for the last several million years, but the law is the law, and you can’t just go ignoring it when someone’s pointed it out.

Bro, your SIC just suggested y’all pull the trial so you could slap it on Cybertron, thus negating any need to pay attention to the Knight law. That’s such a gross miscarrying of justice, it’s genuinely baffling. You’ve got bigger issues going on than flouting. My god, Optimus, you were a cop—

Oh wait, that’s right. Carry on, then.

Back on the Lost Light, First Aid’s checking to make sure that the coffin Rodimus they revealed last issue is true and proper dead. Now, this may seem like a given, but you’ve got to remember that Brainstorm was mostly dead for over a year and a half, and nobody fucking noticed, so it’s probably for the best that they’re checking.

First Aid’s been pretty withdrawn since Ambulon died, so this autopsy is really good for him, since it got him out of his room. Pretty fucked up that it would take a dead body to get him out and about. Has Rung checked in on his poor son of a gun, or has he been spending the last six months getting his professional rocks off psychoanalyzing a genocidal warlord?

Our coffin Rodimus died from having parts of his brain removed, and potentially died screaming.

Yes, that is a Furmanism, thank you peanut gallery, moving on—

Ratchet hands the phone over to Ultra Magnus, saying that a call has to be made, and it can’t be by him, because the callee is mighty upset with Ratchet at the moment.

Oh, I guess he’s fine after all. This must be where the sci-fi bullshit really starts kicking in for the series.

Because seeing your own dead body is likely very traumatic and awful, Rodimus is taking a while to string together his thoughts on the matter. Megatron doesn’t particularly care, because he’s not terribly sympathetic to this sort of thing, and the two get into a spat, where it’s revealed that they’re co-captaining the Lost Light.

Because things weren’t chaotic enough on this fucking ship. Need to mix in some peacocking between the McDonalds twunk and the man who killed half of Beijing.

Back in the past, Optimus Prime visited Megatron in prison to have a little chat. It’s not about that little rescue attempt, though the fact that those Decepticons may have been released from the Lost Light’s brig is certainly interesting. No, Optimus is here to sit way too close to his mortal nemesis on the floor of his room and talk about how Megatron is a sneaky bastard.

You remember the Hellraiser puzzle box from a couple issues back? Yeah, that was a communicube, one that was passed to Optimus to suggest that the trial be held on the moon, so the arena there would be able to hold all the people wronged by Megatron. This seems pretty damn convenient in hindsight, but Megatron swears that the legal loophole wasn’t his only intent when he sent the cube.

Because it’s all about you, isn’t it, Megatron? It’s all about how you’re perceived by future generations. Fuck the guys who had to actually deal with what your personal choices caused to happen.

Megatron wants to make amends with all those who were wronged by him. This doesn’t include being acquitted of his crimes, which, y’know, good- at least he’s being slightly realistic about how this is going to turn out for him.

What he wants to do is find Cyberutopia, so the Cybertronians have a replacement planet, since Cybertron kind of sucks now.

Oh, sorry, did I say realistic? I take it back.

In the present, Rodimus is still bummed out about being dead. Still, the day doesn’t stop just because it’s a bad one, and he calls in the experts.

CHROMEDOME YOU PROMISED TO STOP THIS SHIT

Yeah, no, Chromedome’s fallen off the wagon again, and does his thing on the coffin Rodimus. As he does, Megatron suddenly gets squeamish, Brainstorm pulls out his early early-warning device to lean on the fourth wall, and it’s revealed that the coffin that coffin Rodimus was in was built in the fashion of the Spectralist faith.

All Chromedome can suss out of coffin Rodimus’ memories is the really big important stuff, which includes the speech at Rivet’s Field inviting folks to come join the Knight Quest. Aww, that’s sweet.

With the analysis of the innermost energon complete, the results are in— the coffin Rodimus is a Rodimus. A real one, from the near future. Bummer.

I suppose denial is one of the seven stages of grief, isn’t it?

As everyone argues over whether or not Rodimus is going to die, Nightbeat brings up a good point— there aren’t any numbers carved into the coffin Rodimus’ hand. Rodimus is about to reveal some Ratchet-original wisdom, when things start getting really weird; whole sections of the Lost Light are disappearing.

Over at Swerve’s, Tailgate is regaling his peers with the story of his derring-do against Chief Justice Tyrest. Everyone is very impressed, and this includes our good buddy Getaway.

Jeez, think you’ve got enough antagonist shadows on this guy? It’s almost as if the art’s trying to tell us something about him.

Getaway lays it on real thick, saying that Tailgate could totally be the next Prime, with how courageous and awesome he is, all while completely ignoring Tailgate’s personal space and having a weirdly tiny hand. This seems to seriously bother Cyclonus, who is watching this shit go down from the doorway. Our purple space jet leaves once the drinks start being poured and conversation starts happening. God knows he hates talking about his insecurities.

Then the Pipes is Friggin’ Dead alarm goes off. But Pipes has been dead for a while now, so that must mean something else awful is happening.

Back during the trial, I guess because Optimus has a soft spot for Megatron, he allows him to join the Lost Light’s Knight Quest… even as he says that he could keep the guy locked up until Rodimus and pals find the Knights. However, there are rules to this, and one of the rules is that Megatron must publicly denounce the Decepticon cause.

It is a slow and painful experience for everyone involved, as he reads the statement he was given. It’s an immediate call to action- or rather, inaction.

Geez, think they could’ve made it any more obvious that this was being ghostwritten? I can’t wait to see how long it takes for “Megatron was blackmailed into saying this by the Autobots” to be a plotpoint.

Outside the prison, Ratchet and Rodimus are taking in the brand new Rod Pod, which is genuinely ridiculous in how large it is. Rodimus admits to having taken Atomizer’s list, though he knows that trying to use it to keep those who voted him off would be a pretty shitty thing to do.

Also, no one’s told him about Megatron coming along on the trip. As captain.

Or you could, I dunno, lock him up from the start. Or, if you want to give him a chance to prove himself, slap him into a bottom-rung role, like bilge cleaner, or sewage mucker, or whatever the equivalent would be on a spaceship full of giant gay robots. We don’t have to give the guy any power to hold him to scrutiny— any minimum wage worker will tell you that scrutiny comes far harsher for those who actually carry out orders than those who give them.

But what do I know? I’ve never fought in a several million year war, and I don’t plan to.

Getting back to the list, it seems as if Ratchet and Rodimus are on the same wavelength, in that both agree it’s only going to cause trouble and hurt feelings to keep the thing around. Rodimus destroys it with his usual flare, only to be blindsided by the fact that it was fake this entire time. How does Ratchet know this?

Because his name wasn’t on it.

...Man, that’s gotta sting. No wonder Rodimus was upset enough to not take his calls.

In the present, everyone’s in a panic, as they all bolt for the shuttle bay and start pouring into shuttles. The Lost Light is disintegrating around them, which is sort of a problem. Despite this nightmare scenario happening, Rodimus and Megatron still find the time to be assholes to each other. That’s dedication right there.

As the two bicker, multiple shuttles zip away from the rapidly disappearing ship, including the Rod Pod.

Man, now it really is the Lost Light.

#transformers #jro #MTMTE #world shut your mouth #issue 30 #Hannzreads #text post #long post #overthinking about robots #incoming analysis #comic script writing

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talesofstyles · 4 years

Text

Quid Pro Quo

Another lawyer!Harry. Technically six years before this piece. Enemies to lovers with plenty of angst :))) [7k]

massive thank you to @smokeinherperfume @for-fucks-sake-h and @emotionally-imbruised 🥺💛

This has got to be one of the worst weeks of your professional life.

It’s only Thursday and this past week you haven’t left your office before eleven every night. You’re currently working on nine cases, two of which require immediate action, and you’ll most likely have to go to trial for at least three of the cases because the motions to dismiss that you filed were denied. Last night alone you didn’t get a wink of sleep because you were busy preparing for a deposition this morning, which turned out to be practically useless, because your client completely ignored your advice and said everything you told them not to and basically shit the bed for you.

You know this is what you signed up for when you decided to become a lawyer at a top law firm in the City. Clifford Chance is not a joke, there’s a reason why they’re number second in the UK and you knew that long before you even started working here. There’s a common knowledge which most law students throughout the UK knows, that if you work at Clifford Chance, you don’t get to sit around. Put it this way: if you let six minutes tick away without achieving anything, you’ve wasted the firm fifty pounds. Twelve minutes: one hundred pounds. Eighteen minutes: one fifty. You do the math.

It’s not that you hate your job. On the contrary, you absolutely love your job. You know you’re good at it. You love the thrill of negotiation. You like to argue and make the best point in the room. You’re addicted to the adrenaline rush of closing a deal, and frankly, nothing satisfy you more than spotting the loopholes in a contract (with the exception of sex of course but it has really been a while and you’re practically a nun these days so it’s not even worth mentioning).

But sometimes it’s just too much. You’ve been working for fifty five hours per week, and sure, the money’s good (scratch that—the money’s great), but you don’t have a life outside of work and you’re beginning to realise that it’s one hell of a price to pay.

The truth is, you know all this nonsense is not because you hate your job, nor because you’re stretched too thin. Interestingly, you actually thrive under pressure and you know that’s one of your qualities that makes you a good lawyer. And life outside of work? Even the thought of it makes you laugh. Your work is your life. You’ve never complained about that. This bitterness inside of you that you don’t even realise exists emerged when Harry Styles waltzed into your firm three months ago. You don’t normally make a big deal about people coming into the firm, because you’re good with people and you’re friends with everyone. But the thing is, you resent him because your firm gave him a senior partner title right away, one that you’ve been busting your arse for by working about two hundred hours per month minimum for the past year, just because he came from your firm’s rival which happens to be the number one law firm in the UK. And on top of that, he didn’t come empty handed. He brought five big clients with him when he came knocking on your firm’s door, and that sort of sealed the deal for your managing partner to choose him instead of you to be promoted to senior partner this year.

Bloody bum licker.

Your frustrated groan bounces off the thin walls of your two bedroom flat that you shared with your best friend and you accidentally slam the door a little too harsh. Luckily, she’s used to you coming home in such a state for the past three months, so she just turns her head to see you from where she’s sat on the couch in the living room, stifling a laugh.

“Harry Styles?” She ventures, smirking at you and you groan in annoyance as you throw your keys in the bowl.

“Harry,” you grunt. “Fucking Styles.”

Fran can’t help but laugh, and you give her a look that tells her you’d probably kill her if she keeps that up as you walk past her and straight into the kitchen to grab a bottle of wine from the fridge, so she’s back trying to stifle her laughter.

“Alright,” she replies, you can hear amusement in her tone. “What did he do this time?”

“He took my case!” you snap as you plop down on the couch with a bottle of Riesling in your hand. Fran puts her laptop on the coffee table and turns to face you, sitting expectantly, waiting for the oncoming rant. “He’s just- ugh. I can’t stand him, Fran. He’s unbelievable.”

“What?” She stares at you in confusion. “How?”

“So Luke came to the office this morning-”

“Luke-”

“Don’t-” you cut her off before she can finish her sentence. “I know what you’re about to say, and yes, that Luke. So, he came to the office this morning because he’s got a problem. Basically, his company just cut a huge deal but he needs to get out of this contract because his general counsel accidentally let them slip something into the fine print.”

“Shit,” she remarks. “That is a fireable offense.”

“Yeah,” you agree. “The guy was fired on the spot. The thing is, if Luke fulfills this order, he goes out of business.”

“And if he doesn’t,” she pauses, looking at you for a second before adding another remark. “Shit, they’ll sue him for breach of contract.”

“Exactly,” you sigh. “I’ve been at it all day trying to spot loopholes in the contract to save his company.”

You really miss working together with Fran. You’ve been living together since you were both still in law school, and Fran used to work in Clifford Chance as well until ten months ago when she decided she wanted to focus on fashion law and moved to Addleshaw Goddard.

It’s not that you’re not happy for her. You’re glad she found something that she’s passionate about. It’s just you’re so used to working on cases and going to mock trials together and you can’t deny that you miss it sometimes. You just wish that she’d stayed, because you know it would be much easier to handle Harry if you’ve got your best friend with you.

“Right,” she nods. “And I’m guessing Harry came to you and he wanted in?”

“That bastard!” You scowl. “He just waltzed into my office out of the blue and was like, ‘I gather Luke Whiteacre needs to get out of something? I want in.’ I mean… who does that?! He didn’t even say hi when he walked in!”

Fran snickers at your terrible impression of Harry. She hasn’t met him yet but she knows there’s no way he talks like that. “And you’re upset because he didn’t say hi?”

“Fran!”

“I’m joking, I’m joking,” she hastily amends. “Look, maybe he’s just trying to help? He’s not taking your case, babe, believe me. You’re still on it, aren’t you?”

“Well, I am,” you let out another sigh.

“See?” She goes on. “And even if he tries to, Luke wouldn’t let it happen. He’s been your client since forever.”

“Still. I don’t like the fact that he thought he could just walk into my office and hijack my case,” you say in exasperation. “I’m gonna kill him, Fran. I swear to god I’m gonna kill him.”

Fran burst in laughter, muttering your name in a chastising tone. “Don’t. You won’t look good in prison stripes,” she shakes her head. “Really rubs you in the wrong way, doesn’t he?”

“Absolutely,” you roll your eyes.

“Come on, babe,” she continues with a smirk. “I’ve said this before, you need to shag him. Take out all those frustrations…”

“Keep that up and I’ll put your name on my people-to-murder list next to his,” you grunt, standing up from the couch and head towards the kitchen hoping to find some treats from the snack cabinet.

Fran giggles as she takes her laptop back onto her lap and begins typing. “Let’s go out,” she suggests. “Been a while. You look like you could use a night out.”

“I can’t,” you slump against the couch with a bag of chocolate buttons. “He’s on his way here.”

“What? Harry?” She looks at you in surprise. “Why?”

“Yeah,” you shrug carelessly. “We need to work on Luke’s case.”

“Have you still got some condoms in your room?” She says teasingly. “I’ve got some just in case you need them. Just-”

The sound of the doorbell rings cuts your best friend’s teasing remark. It’s definitely Harry, and you give Fran one last death glare and Ross Geller’s version of middle finger as you get up from the couch and walk towards the front door to let him in.

“Hey,” he greets you with his usual smug smile that irritates you to no end. “Lovely flat you’ve got here.”

“We better get started,” you say dismissively as you close the door behind him before you lead him into your living room. You suddenly realise that it’s your first time seeing him not in one of his expensive suits. Not that you care enough about him to notice that. It’s just he happens to be wearing a lot of Jermyn Street suits, and you know they don’t come cheap.

This time he’s only in his crisp white button-up shirt, with the sleeves rolled up just below his elbow. His arms are full with folders that you asked him to take from the office, and as the two of you walk into your living room, you see Fran turning her head to greet him. “Hi.”

“Hey, you must be Fran,” he smiles as he strides to the couch.

“And you must be Harry,” Fran replies, before tilting her head to smirk at you. “Heard a lot about you.”

“Have you now?” Harry chuckles. “Only good thing, I hope?”

“Oh,” Fran can’t help but snort. “Only the best.”

You end up ordering Chinese because neither of you have had dinner, and Fran ends up helping both you and Harry on the case in the living room. Even with three heads brainstorming together you’re still struggling to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

It is now past midnight and you and Harry are still working on your case. Fran has gone up to her room a little over two hours ago, leaving just the two of you in your living room. Your coffee table is strewn with photocopied draft contracts, financial reports, note-pads covered in scribbles, post-its and two cups of cold coffee from four hours ago that both of you keep accidentally drinking. Take-out boxes are littering the floor, and you can barely keep your eyes open as you read through yet another file to find literally anything which could potentially help.

“I tell you what, this is ironclad,” you let out a heavy sigh as you throw the document on the coffee table in defeat. “Houdini wouldn’t even get out of this contract.”

“We need to adjourn,” Harry suggests, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Regroup tomorrow to get to the bottom of this with clear heads. I’ve got a trial at half nine but I’ll be done by noon.”

“I can’t rest before we figure this out,” you state stubbornly, pausing for a second to let out a yawn. “But you go home. I’ll let you know if I’ve got something.”

“No,” Harry shakes his head. “You have to rest. If you were to come up with something you would’ve by now.”

You feel a stab of indignation. “Are you saying that I’m not capable of getting to the bottom of this myself?”

“Fuck’s sake,” Harry says in exasperation. “How did you even come up with that? I was just saying you’re knackered, well we both are, so we’re not thinking clearly. But you know what? If you wanna keep going, that’s your decision. But I’m not going to.”

“Well, I never asked you to!” you retort defensively.

Harry rolls his eyes as he gets up from your couch, heading towards the door without saying another word and you can’t help but groan in annoyance. With Harry, you’re quite capable of going from calm to seething in 0-60, and you’re too pissed to even notice Fran stifling her giggles from the kitchen.

“Oh, yeah,” Fran appears in the living room with a glass of water in her hand, staring at you with one eyebrow arched high. “There’s no tension there at all.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, give it a rest!”

***

By two o’clock you’re already exhausted and brain dead after only three hours of sleep and non-stop work since this morning. You haven’t even had lunch yet, but even just the thought of eating already makes you nauseous because you can’t stop thinking about how crushed Luke is going to be when you tell him that he’s going out of business. Truth be told you don’t want to jump that far, but what Harry said last night keeps replaying on your mind like a broken cassette. ‘If you were to come up with something, you would have by now.’ And here you are, twenty-eight hours later, still have got nothing.

Speak of the devil.

“Where have you been?” Harry asks in a prickly tone as he walks into your office. His brows are knitted together and he looks concerned. “I’ve been looking for you.”

Honestly, a ‘hi’ would be nice.

“I’ll tell you where,” you shift your attention from your computer and look at him. “I was getting screwed by Berkeley Group and trying to figure out what to do about it.”

Harry gives you a quizzical look. “What do you mean?”

“I went there with a dozen win-win offers and they shot down every single one,” you say stonily.

“Did you threaten litigation?” asked Harry, a bit superciliously.

“Harry, I threaten them with everything but the kitchen sink,” you flash him an incandescent look. “The thing is, this contract is airtight and they know it.”

“I’ve got an idea,” Harry says promptly with a glint of hope in his eyes. “And this won’t make Luke go out of business.”

“What you on about?”

“Slicing and dicing,” says Harry with a smug smile.

You flash him another incandescent look. “Are you telling me that your big brilliant idea is to split his commercial division from his retail?”

The glint of hope disappears from his eyes as he looks at you. “This is the only way out.”

“Cutting someone’s arm off is not a way out!” you practically shriek.

“It is if their life depends on it!” Harry yells in frustration, the volume of his voice matches yours and you can’t help but notice two associates stop for a second just to have a peek at you and Harry having a screaming match before they continue walking past your office.

“Look,” he begins again, and you know he’s calmed down a little because he’s not as loud as three seconds ago. “If we do this, we have a chance to get Berkeley back to the table before we cut anything off.”

“Listen to me Harry,” you venture after a pause. “I’m sorry but we’re not going back to Luke with this bullshit. Thank you for your help so far, but you’re off the case.”

“What?” Harry turns to you in disbelief.

“You heard me,” you give him a dismissive blink that makes him feel like an insect. “I’m taking back this case.”

You turn your attention back to some random document on your desk, pretending to read carefully, not daring to meet his eyes. Luckily he leaves your office without saying another word after a second or two of pause, and you slump back further on your chair as he slams your door behind him.

For the rest of the afternoon you’ve decided to keep yourself busy with your other cases, but you know deep down you won’t be able to focus on anything else before you get Luke out of the woods. You can’t let him go out of business. You just can’t. Not only because you’ve been looking after his company for years, hell you were only an associate when he first became a client, but you also saw with your own eyes how his company grew. He was only just starting his business when he came into your firm, and you witnessed it firsthand how he nurtured it into the big and successful company it is now.

On a side note, you also can’t stop thinking about what happened in your office earlier. Sure, you and Harry don’t particularly get along like a house on fire, but you didn’t have to be so rude, did you? His approach to the problem might be different than yours, but deep down you knew he was only trying to help.

So on your way to the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea, you decided to stop by his office. You know you owe him an apology.

“Hi,” his door is open but you decided to knock anyway. “Mind if I come in?”

He looks up at you instantly, pushing his chair a little further away from his desk to break his attention from his computer. “Of course not, come in.”

“Look-”

You both say simultaneously, before breaking into a chuckle.

“Let me go first,” he begins with a smile, which for some reason doesn’t look smug this time and you nod. “I owe you an apology. I’m sorry. That case is yours to begin with, and I should’ve trusted you to bring it home how you see fit.”

“Well I’m sorry too,” you add hastily. “Guess I let my emotion get the best of me back there. I was rude when you were only trying to help.”

“Hey, no need to apologise to me,” he replies without flickering. “I absolutely understand.”

“It’s just,” you continue as you saunter to his desk. “Luke was my first client. Ever. The first time I went solo on a case, it was for his company. I just can’t let him down.”

“Look, we don’t know that yet,” he assures you gently. “And even if it comes to that point, it’s not your fault. If anything it’s the general counsel’s fault.”

“Holy shit-” you say suddenly. “Harry!”

“What?” he looks at you in confusion.

“The general counsel didn’t just make one mistake,” you go on as you look at Harry with glimmering hope. “He made two, he never ran the final contract by me.”

“Holy shit he didn’t,” Harry remarks. “Because he knew you’d catch any mistake. So he didn’t make a mistake…”

“No it was on purpose,” you can’t help a pleased little smile coming to your lips. “Isn’t it a coincidence that he just signed a contract to work at a subsidiary of Berkeley?”

“This is brilliant,” he replies excitedly. “You’re brilliant.”

“Say that again?” you joke.

“No, you need to get them on the phone right now,” Harry gives you a rictus smile. “And I need to find us some bloody champagne.”

***

Harry grins as he walks into your office and asks, as though you’re mid-conversation. “Have you made the call?”

“Ooh, that’s a good one,” you grin when you notice a bottle of Moët & Chandon in his hand. “Where did you get that?”

“Leftovers from the Christmas party,” he chuckles as he quickly opens it . “How’s it? What did they say?”

“Well, the contract is back exactly the way it was,” you begin, giving him a smug smile for a change. “Well, with a twenty five percent increase.”

He looks at you suspiciously, one of his eyebrows arched high. “Twenty five?”

“Fine,” you roll your eyes comically. “Forty.”

“Bloody hell,” he chuckles. “You don’t mess about, do you? Remind me to never mess with you.”

You laugh and take a sip of the champagne. “We need to celebrate this.”

“Do you wanna go out?”

“Oh no, I’ve got something better,” you smirk as you hand him a folder. “Take a look.”

Harry takes the folder promptly and begins skimming through the documents, occasionally taking sips of the champagne in between. “Aha, you need to get out of a deal.”

“Exactly,” you grin. “We need to get out of a deal I negotiated for a mobile payment app with our client’s credit card provider.”

“This is a three years deal and you’re only three months in,” Harry observes as he continues skimming through the files.

“Well, that’s what makes it fun, innit?” your grin widens.

“Oh, absolutely. This is fun,” his eyes twinkling in delight. “You don’t have any legal grounds to do it. Have you got something in mind?”

“Mhm,” you hum as you take another swig of champagne. “I think if I can find a reason to pay into a trust instead of to them directly then we can squeeze them…”

“Make them take a buyout,” Harry adds.

“Look at us finishing each other’s sentences already,” you make an elaborate gesture with your champagne flute and Harry gives you a shrill laugh.

“We’re best friends now, aren’t we?”

You retort at once. “Don’t push your luck.”

“Alright,” says Harry, his eyes still flashing with amusement. “That’s a good plan by the way. What do you want me to do?”

“I need precedents by noon.”

“You’ll have them on your desk by nine am sharp,” he smirks.

***

Harry keeps his promise.

When you arrive in your office at a little over nine, there are six folders from Harry waiting for you on your desk, which means that he didn’t only get you one or two but six precedents for the new case that you’re both working on. This is the boost of confidence that you need, because today you’re scheduled to go to the judge’s chamber and meet with the lawyer on the opposing side. Who knows, maybe this will be a quick one and the case will be over by the end of the day.

Well, that’s a nice thought. But in order for the case to be dismissed, the lawyer from the opposing side needs to show up here first and foremost. You’ve been sitting in the judge’s chamber for nearly fifteen minutes now, and he has warned you about ten times that if the other lawyer doesn’t show up, he would have to deny your motion to dismiss.

“Hello, sorry I’m late,” a voice pipes in from the door, and when you turn around, you see a woman with a smug smile that reminds you of Harry’s, clad in L.K. Bennett from head to toe walks into the room. She offers you a hand before she sits down, and you politely reach out yours for a handshake. “Camille Sweetings, I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Have you now?” you give her a mocking smile as you begin confidently. “Well, you haven’t lived up to your obligations and according to these six precedents, we have the right to nullify this entire deal right now.”

You really don’t like the look on her face. Any other lawyers would at least be slightly ticked to hear that, but she still has the same smug smile across her face. “You don’t have the right to do anything, you’re in violation of your contract.”

“Paying into a trust isn’t a violation,” you frown.

“No,” she agrees. “But meeting with the competition is.”

You can’t see your own face, but if you do, you’re most likely to look like you’ve just seen a ghost. How did she even know that? You try to remain calm and look at the judge. “I don’t know what she’s talking about.”

“No,” she’s smiling as she says the word. “You just didn’t know I’d find out about it. Your Honour, I’ve got a confirmation that YN YLN has engaged in a pattern of dirty tricks, unethical behaviour and borderline illegal activity. All in the name of ‘representing’ her clients.”

Your rage simmers up into a froth. “If you’re gonna say all that about me, you better damn well be able to back it up.”

You want nothing more than to rip off the smirk across her face as she hands two files to the judge. “Here are two of Ms YLN's old cases. There you’ll find settlements withheld and meetings with the competition.”

“How the hell did you get these?!” you exclaim indignantly. “Your Honour, my past cases have no relevance here.”

“No, but your answers to my question do,” he says sternly. “Did you or did you not meet with the competition last week?”

***

You stride back into your office furiously. Who the hell was that woman? You didn’t even know her yet she apparently knew a damn lot about you. Nobody even knew you had a meeting with the competition last week, so there has got to be something bigger going on yet you just can’t seem to figure that out.

You begin to realise maybe this whole case isn’t a good idea and you silently promise yourself that you will never take on anything with getting out of contracts or deals or basically everything that Harry is good at ever again. This isn’t your thing, this is Harry’s. Your thing is everything that has everything to do with mergers, acquisitions, all that, just like Fran’s thing is everything with fashion law. This whole thing is really stressing you out and you plan to speak to Harry when you get the chance later today to just hand him the case.

Speak of the devil.

“Hey! How was the hearing?” he sounds jovial as he walks into your office with a bright smile. “Should I get another bottle of champagne for tonight? Of course when I say ‘get’ I meant ‘steal’ from downstairs.”

“The judge bit my head off,” you scoff.

He flashes you a quizzical look. “What? Why?”

“The other lawyer found some dirt about me,” you begin, already seething as you picture her face with that bloody smug smile in your head. “She found two of my old cases and said really nasty things about me to the judge. And before you say anything, no, I didn’t do anything illegal. But I’ve got to admit it was unethical.”

“Shit,” he looks at you, concerned. “Look, there’s no way they could’ve found all those shit just like that.”

“That’s what I’m thinking about,” you reply at once. “There’s got to be something bigger going on. This is a desperate move, I tell you.”

“I agree,” he nods. “It sounds shady, and in my experience the other side only does something like this when they’ve already done something even shadier.”

You look at him with a glint of hope. “So you also think they’re hiding something?”

“Yeah,” he sounds so sure. “And don’t worry, we’re gonna find it.”

“Good,” you remark. “Because there’s no way in hell I’m gonna let bloody Camille Sweetings get the better of me.”

“Wait, who?” this time, it’s Harry who looks like he has just seen a ghost. The colours have drained from his face, and you look at him in confusion.

“Camille Sweetings,” you repeat yourself, wrinkling your nose in disgust because you hate the sound of her name rolling out of your lips. “Why? Do you know her?”

“Have they put my name on this case?” he ignores your questions.

“Yeah, yesterday,” you frown. “Harry, what’s wrong?”

He takes a deep breath before he begins, looking at you in the eyes. “She and I, well, uh, we were together for a while.”

“What?!” you can’t hide your dismay. “Fucking hell, Harry. As if this isn’t complicated enough!”

You lapse into silence for a few seconds, neither of you knowing what to say.

“I think this is personal,” he ventures after the pause. “Look, if you want me off the case now, I completely understand. I won’t fight you. But I hope you don’t because you need help now more than ever.”

“Just,” you pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration. “Please get out of my office.”

***

By nine pm you’ve already come up with three win-win offers, yet Camille bloody Sweetings gives you a shrill laugh every time and shoots down every single one. Honestly, she is the female version of Harry. They make a great couple, those two shady bastards. They should’ve gotten married and make a couple of shady children.

“Sod off, Harry,” you say without even moving your head from looking at your computer, but you know he’s standing in front of your office, probably waiting for the right time to come in. Honestly, he might be a brilliant lawyer but he sucks big time at a simple game of hide and seek. Behind the wall? That’s a toddler-level hiding spot.

“No,” he insists, finally walking towards your desk. “I wanna help.”

“I told you I don’t need your help,” you give him a dismissive blink that makes him feel like an insect.

He says your name sternly, making you look in his direction and finally meets his eyes. “Believe me, you do. You think I’m shady? That bloody snake is ten times worse. You need help, and I don’t care what you say because I’ve just checked and my name is still on the attorneys listed.”

“Fine,” you concede. “Take a look at this. This is as best as she could get yet she bloody refused them all.”

Harry takes the files from your hand and quickly skims through the documents, muttering one or two profanities under his breath before he puts them back on your desk. “You know what, we’re going out tonight.”

Is he joking?

“My arse is on the line here in case you haven’t realised,” you look at him in disbelief. “She pulls shit like this again, it’s gonna cost me my license.”

Your name rolls out of his lips again and he looks at you without blinking. “Come on, we need to blow off some steam. We don’t do that, we’re gonna kill each other.”

Three hours later, you feel like you’ll never be able to get out of the comfiest bar stool you’ve ever sat on. You’ve never been to Hawksmoor, but Harry swears this place is good even though it’s filled with boring bankers with their ties stuffed in suit pockets (not that Harry’s tie isn’t also stuffed in his suit pocket, but, you know, at least he’s not a banker), so you followed his lead and let him take you here.

The salvaged furniture, low lighting, comfy seating and charming staff make it an easy place to settle into. Sitting beside you is Harry with his neat whiskey, which you realise that he hasn’t finished when you’ve already had three refills of your gin and tonics. Your head is most likely going to fall off tomorrow morning, you just know it.

“Argh,” you groan. “What’s wrong with me?”

“Right now?” Harry deadpan. “Huge quantities of alcohol.”

“Sod off,” you playfully nudge his shoulder. “By the way, you’ve got more ex-girlfriends lawyers I should know about?”

Harry laughs, his eyes crinkled and shining. “I’ll send you a list.”

“Good,” you mumble against the edge of the glass, before taking another swig of your drink.

“How about you?” Harry is smirking at you, one of his eyebrows arched high. “Any lawyers you’re seeing that I should know?”

You laugh. “I don’t shit where I eat.”

“Shut up,” Harry looks at you suspiciously, still with a huge shit-eating grin. “You’re telling me you’ve never got involved with anyone at work?”

There’s silence.

“Shit,” Harry remarks. “Who was it?”

You exhale sharply before you answer. “Luke.”

Harry takes a gulp of his drink. “Well, that makes sense.”

“You don’t even know which Luke I was talking about,” you frown. “You could be wrong, you know. There are millions of Lukes.”

“Oh, of course it’s Luke Whiteacre,” he chuckles. “Didn’t go to law school for nothing, did I? But I’ve got to say, it finally makes sense.”

“Don’t say anything to anyone,” you say sternly, starting to realise that you’ve probably made a mistake of telling him. “It was a long time ago anyway.”

“So, how was he?” he’s grinning.

You can’t help but laugh. “Are we having a girl talk right now?”

“No,” he shrugs carelessly. “Just wanna know how he was.”

“You want me to go into details?” you tease, and even though he doesn’t say anything, you know he’s glad you’re not as tense as a few hours prior. “Cause I could. What do you wanna know? Stamina? Girth? Technique? I could go on…”

“Ew!”

You’re laughing so hard that you nearly fell off the bar stool if Harry didn’t quickly catch you, and you realise this is the first time your arm brushes against his, and for a second you’ve both stilled, but you ignored it because this doesn’t mean anything. You’re both drunk anyway. “Why did you break up with she-who-must-not-be-named?” you peer at him.

“We had a pregnancy scare,” he says, looking down for a second at his drink before taking another swig.

“Shit,” you gape at him. “Was she-”

“No, she wasn’t,” he shakes his head. “But it made me realise that she’s not the one I want to spend the rest of my life with, let alone actually having children with. So I called it off.”

“Sorry,” you can’t help yourself from chuckling. “But you made the right decision. Don’t have a baby with a snake.”

“Don’t apologise, you’re right,” Harry joins you in laughter. “How about you and Luke? What happened?”

“Work got in the way,” you drain the rest of your drink before motioning for the bartender to get you another one. “I was only an associate back then so I worked so hard to get junior partner. And his company wasn’t as big as it is now so he was working crazy hours too because he was trying to expand it. We saw each other about three times a month for half a year before we called it off.”

“Three times a month?” his eyes widen in surprise.

“Mhm,” you hum, mouthing a thank you to the bartender as he hands you another drink. “We were besotted but we just didn’t have time for a relationship.”

“Do you still-”

“What? No,” you laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous. The ship has sailed now.”

“Good,” he smiles at you, before hastily corrects himself. “I mean, good for you.”

You take another big gulp of your drink before you push it away. “Alright, playtime’s over,” you smirk at him. “Let’s get back to work.”

“Are you joking?” he gives you a quizzical look. “It’s nearly midnight and you’re drunk.”

“I just need two cups of coffee and a cold shower and I’ll be fine,” you reply as you hop off the bar stool, he quickly reaches his hand out for you to hold. “Let’s go back to my place so I can have a quick shower.”

“Let’s go to mine,” he offers. “Technically Maida Vale is closer from here than Hammersmith.”

“Are you trying to take me home, Styles?” you deadpan, your voice a little slurred. “Should’ve bought me dinner first, don’t you think?”

“Hey, I’ve bought you lots of dinners,” he retorts.

“No, Styles,” you shake your head, chuckling. “Clifford Chance bought me dinners. Been using the company’s card, haven’t you?”

Harry laughs. “You’ve got me.”

***

In under an hour, you’ve arrived at Harry’s flat, had a cup of coffee, and a cold shower just as you requested. You’ve ditched your work dress and slipped into the clothes that Harry had laid on his bed for you; a blue Mickey Mouse t-shirt and a pair of black shorts, and when you walk into his sitting room, you see him sitting on his plush sofa with some clipped documents in his hand.

Your eyes dart around his flat once again as you plop yourself down on his sofa. He’s got a great taste, you’ve got to admit, because his flat is lush. It’s on the fourth floor of a beautiful, red-brick, Edwardian mansion which Maida Vale is well-known for, and the inside is modern meets classic. The gray panelled walls blend nicely with the elegant patterned wood floor, and the cream curtains really tie the look of his flat altogether. It really is a gorgeous flat, not to mention the white marble en suite and his really neat, sparsely decorated bedroom.

“Alright,” you begin, taking a document into your hand and begin skimming through briefly only to put it back on the coffee table in less than thirty seconds. “I’ve been at it all day, we’ve been at it for a while and it’s getting us nowhere. I think we need to shake down some employees.”

“And that’s all well and good,” he turns to look at you. “But if we don’t know what to ask, we’re not going to get any answers.”

“Yes we will,” you insist. “They don’t know what we don’t know, do they?”

“They don’t know what we don’t know…”

“That’s literally what I just said,” you frown.

“No,” he shakes his head. “Look, I’m saying according to this report, their accounts are growing by 200% a month.”

“Wait a second,” you remark. “If that’s true then why are they clinging to this deal like it’s their newborn and I’m Herod?”

“Because maybe they’re not really growing by 200% a month,” Harry adds. “Look, March, 5 million new users, but 60% of these card holders don’t even seem to know they have the cards.”

“Holy shit,” your eyes widen in surprise. “The people are real, but the accounts are fake. Harry, this isn’t just shady, this is the type of shit that lands someone in prison. And if Camille knows all this…”

Harry grins. “Wait til the judge sees this.”

“The judge?” you look at him suspiciously. “Why don’t we just leverage them into letting us out?”

“Because, darling, we have the upper hand now,” he says, still grinning. “We can’t give her a chance to get it back.”

“Harry, if Camille has anything to do with this it would ruin her,” you warn him. “I can’t let you do this to someone you once cared about.”

“I don’t give a flying fuck about her,” Harry says harshly. “Not anymore. If she doesn’t want to be ruined she shouldn’t have gotten involved in this. And she damn sure shouldn’t have fucked with someone I care about.”

“What?”

“You better get some sleep,” he jerks his head towards his bedroom. “We’re going to the court first thing in the morning.”

***

Harry’s bed has got to be one of the comfiest places on earth.

He gave you his bed for the night and opted for the couch, which you bet just as cosy so you didn’t really feel bad. When you wake up, he’s already clad in his white button-up shirt and black trousers, swinging the fridge open to get a freshly squeezed cranberry juice.

“Morning,” he smiles when he notices you as he pours some coffee and juice for both of you. “Have some toast.”

“You know how to treat your guest with a good breakfast, don’t you?” you tease him as you look around the jars on the breakfast nook. There are several kinds of luxury marmalade, strawberry jam with champagne, wild blossom honey and even Belgian chocolate spread. Honestly, who is this man?

“No hangover?”

“Surprisingly, no,” you chuckle. “I mean my head is pounding of course but it’s not too bad, nothing I can’t handle.”

“You want some nurofen?”

“No thanks,” you shake your head and take the cup of coffee from Harry’s hand. “Harry, we need to talk.”

He sighs. “You’re gonna try to change my mind, aren’t you?”

“I am,” you nod as you look through the jars of fancy jams, trying to choose one, before going with just salted butter instead. “I can’t let you do that. She might be a snake but I’m not. We’re not.”

Harry just look at you in silence, and you continue.

“If we do this, then what’s the difference between us and her?” you go on, trying to sound convincing. “We’re better than that. We’re good people, you know.”

“But we’re going to make her pay,” he finally concedes and you smile. “Really make her pay.”

“That I agree,” you nod. “Okay, I’ll just go home quickly to get changed then we’ll meet at the office? Need to pay her a visit don’t we?”

“We can just go together,” Harry suggests. “We’ll stop by your flat then we can go straight to that snake’s office.”

***

“Are you crazy?” Camille flashes an incandescent look at both you and Harry. “I sign that, my client will be on the brink of bankruptcy!”

“So you rather go to prison?” Harry frowns and you try to stifle your giggle. “I mean, it’s your choice, but-”

“Fine!” she says in exasperation. “I’ll sign it. But give me your word this wouldn’t go out of these walls.”

You hand her the file and pen, and as she’s signing it, you can’t resist yourself. “You go near me or my clients again I swear to god you are dead fucking meat.”

Harry can’t help but chuckling, and you both don’t waste another minute in Camille’s office before you head out with smug smiles plastered across both of your faces.

“You’re a badass lawyer,” he compliments you as he opens the passenger door for you.

“Stating the obvious there,” you smirk as you slide into his car and buckle up your seat belt. “But thank you, you’re not a shit lawyer yourself.”

“Since we’re passing compliments, shall we do it over a drink?”

“Drinks, Styles,” you shoot him a savage smile. “And you’re buying. Not Clifford Chance.”

Harry laughs, closing the car’s door. “As you wish.”

gif

#harry #harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurbs #harry styles drabbles #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #lawyer!harry #harry styles au #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles ff

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meruz · 4 years

Note

any advice for comic layouts?? i really like the way you do ur comics

this is a really interesting question!! and it took me a lot of thinking as to how to answer.... I don’t know if I can give advice per se because I feel like I’m still figuring out a comics process myself, but I can try to walk you through what I’ve done thus far

Lets take this one page comic..

my comic process tends to be 2 tiered. once I have an idea of what I want to draw, I have a brainstorming/sketch phase where I will essentially just jot down whatever layouts and images first come to mind and experiment with them, making a bunch of drawings that have minor tweaks (shown above as Draft 1).You can see I really wanted to sell the deadpan expression in the last panel so I sketched out a couple different iterations. And I wanted to explore what the latte art would look like and how it would transform. A lot of this is not very well drafted, just ugly shorthand just to see what resonates with me visually. I generally do this on paper (often with pen) so I don’t feel the compulsion to fiddle with any particular drawing too much. less focus on perfecting and more focus on iterating.

Once I think I’ve got a good idea of the visuals, I’ll bring it into the computer where I can copy paste and move things around with transform tools in order to come up with a rough layout. My thought process kind of goes like this

I know I want the 1st and 4th panel to hit hard so I prioritize them in the layout and make them break the gutters. the other panels I keep contained and focus on pacing/contrast to tell their story. I think a comic page can generally have only one or two big moments before it becomes cluttered so it’s important for me to establish those first and work around it.

Similar goes for a slightly longer comic.

The process remains pretty much the same. This one is a scene adapted from a videogame cutscene so I’m working from a bit of a script and a bit of the cutscene compositions. I spend a bunch of time at my sketchbook brainstorming and I figure out pretty early on I’ll probably need two pages between the dialogue I want to fit in, the set up of the threat, and the big line drop. I know I want a panel where asch is standing in the middle of the room surrounded by enemies so I do some sketches to test out his silhouette and try to figure out if I want him to be half turned to the camera or fully turned when he says his big line. By the end of it I’m starting to piece together a layout.

Thought process is as follows:

Every piece of art has to be planned around the format through which its consumed and for comics on the internet its either a scroll or a click. I’m posting this comic in two pages so I want to plan for my impact to be made on clicking from one page to the next which spurs me to put the close-up at the head of the 2nd page. Since I want to build tension up to that reveal I consciously decide to make most of the panels on the first page small and obscure stuff like faces so things feel rushed and uncertain. for comics small panel = fast and big panel = slow. in terms of how the reader processes the information. I save the single big panel on the 1st page for the establishing shot of the conflict and add in a panel at the bottom to start the proverbial drum beat for the 2nd pg reveal.

I make the 2nd panel on the 2nd page a big one to let the page turn line ring in the air and also to solidly establish how the perspective of the battle turns when you realize the character’s resolve.

Of course, I didn’t think any of that stuff to myself as I was making it. I think a common misconception I want to dispel is that, contrary to how it appears when people break down comic pages, few artists will explicitly plan out the way your eye is supposed to move across the page. I think more likely is that if you read a lot of comics and you draw a lot of comics you form a visual (non-verbal! often unconscious) understanding of what has impact and what will create tension and which speechbubbles to read first. And putting it to paper is just trial and error coming off of that instinct. Maybe. I don’t know.

Sorry this is really rambly. And I don’t really have any advice... I guess if I had to sum it up... be aware of what you want the reader to focus on, where you want the reader to gasp and where you want them to laugh. what you want the reader to know vs not know. this sort of stuff should inform your decision making the most.

Also don’t take my advice. There’s a lot of people who are way better at this stuff than me. I recommend reading comics you like and studying them! And heres some resources also I guess

- Understanding Comics/Reinventing Comics/Making Comics by Scott Mccloud

I specifically had Making Comics on my shelf (one of my RISD classes forced me to buy it lol) but the others are great too. I think some may look at the Scott Mccloud books and call them basic but that’s just another way to say /fundamental/. They’re great at explaining the bare bones of comics and entertaining to boot so always worth at least a look, I think.

- Framed Ink by Marcos Mateu-Menstre

This book is less about comics and more about general visual storytelling... iirc Mateu-menstre mainly does storyboarding professionaly. But it’s a great overview of the composition of visual storytelling. This guy is also like a perspective extraordinaire.

- Wally Wood’s 22 panels that always work

This is just this one cheat sheet image but it’s worth studying. Wally Wood was a Silver Age american comics artist who made this page with his assistant in part to coach younger Marvel comics artists.

OK IM DONE TALKING :’ ) happy october everyone

#Anonymous #yet another longass blog post I guess #shut up meru

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eintsein · 5 years

Photo

After a few years of trial and error, I think I've finally found the perfect organization method.

In the early years of high school, I had a bullet journal. I was an artsy kid who found a way to combine art with organization in a way that benefited other parts of my life.

However, as I approached the end of high school, my schedule got busier, and I was involved in a lot more things, so owning a bullet journal was less practical. Because of that, I switched to an app called Edo Agenda.

I continued with digital planning in college since I knew I wasn't going to have as much time. But all the apps I tried out—Taskade, Actions by Moleskine, Any.do, Todoist, Wunderlist—weren't suited to my planning and organizational needs. They didn't have the specific functions I required and didn't incorporate an organization system I liked to use. The predefined apps were too restraining, but the more customizable apps weren't customizable enough.

So then I switched to a bare bones, uber minimalist bullet journal method. That worked pretty well my second semester. It was simple, portable, and most importantly, flexible—all the things one could wish for in a planning system. However, it wasn't always the most convenient to use since I couldn't effectively integrate all the different aspects of my life, which, to no surprise, is mostly recorded digitally.

There was just one huge problem with my digital organization system that made me hesitant to switch back in the first place: everything was fragmented. Notes were in Google Docs. Financial records were in Google Sheets. To-Do Lists were in my bullet journal. Team projects were in Trello. My poetry was on Bear. Things I wanted to try are carelessly pinned to random pinterest boards or added to my YouTube "watch later" playlist. It was a mess.

Over the summer, I found out about Notion from a friend, and I thought, this has so much potential, it could even be exactly what I need. It's essentially like an empty notebook on your computer with functions that make it 10x more powerful. Notion allows you to integrate all aspects of your life and work into one app. Some of the advantages that have made me partial to Notion are:

Even greater customization level. Notion is a blank canvas with tons of predefined blocks and different file types. You can make databases, spreadsheets, Kanban boards, to do lists, etc. Also, you can remain connected to other digital services. You can link websites, collaborate with other users, use different structures (e.g. documents, databases, tasks), embed images and videos, etc. There are also tons of formatting options, e.g. text color, highlight, heading v. body text.

Better organization. Notion allows you to have pages within pages within pages within pages—an infinite hierarchy that you can organize with tables of contents. These pages are made of blocks, e.g. tables, checklists, boards, databases. Both pages and blocks can be rearranged by simply dragging and dropping them to where you want them to be. In other words, I guess it's kind of like building a website to organize your life. Plus, their database feature is especially powerful as it allows you to connect all your data and get into as much detail as you wish (each entry in a database is its own page).

Templates. There are tons of templates created by both Notion and the community that you can use. These are especially helpful in the beginning since Notion does have a rather steep learning curve. There are template for almost every category: personal, planning, finance, job applications, design roadmap, etc. Check out their template gallery, this medium article called "10 Notion templates to inspire your use", or read on for my own examples!

Shortcuts. This makes typing and documenting so much faster. Notion uses Markdown, which is a text-to-HTML conversion tool, e.g. # = Heading 1, *, - = bullet point, etc.

Notion has some pretty awesome features, but how does one actually use it? Personally, I have four top-level pages: my planner, my personal journal, songwriting, and blogging.

Planner

I've been using my planner to, well, plan and track my day to day activities as well as my week and month. The way I've structured it is a calendar or monthly overview with links to pages of weekly overviews, and if needed, daily overviews within the weekly overview. This links things up so nicely, i.e. I don't have to be constantly flipping pages in my physical bullet journal or planner to find what I need.

I also have entertainment lists, which is mainly a table with all the shows I want to watch, the books I want to read, etc. I keep track of whether or not I've watched them, as well as my personal ratings. What I love most about this is that each entry is its own page, so I can type my notes for each book, show, or film and easily find them in the future. (Also the reason why I have plural “lists” instead of just one entertainment list is because you can filter entries by type of entertainment, e.g. movies, tv shows, books, articles.)

Personal

For personal notes, goals, journal entries, etc. This is kind of like an extension of my daily journal and just where I dump all my thoughts and keep track of the different aspects of my life: mental, emotional, spiritual, social, physical, and travel.

Another page I have is called "Stray Thoughts" and, well, it's pretty self explanatory. It's a lot easier to dump all my thoughts as they come and reorganize them later. Of course, this requires sacrificing the rawness of journaling, i.e. when the thoughts come and how you process them, which is why I still keep a regular journal that I write in daily.

Songwriting

I've been writing a lot of music over the summer and it's often hard to keep track of all of my songs and how far I've gotten in the songwriting process. So I created a table of songs - each entry of a song is a page with its lyrics. These are then tagged with the status of the lyrics (i.e. completed, in progress) and the status of the music itself (i.e. melody only, instrumental, mixing, mastering, revised). Eventually, I'll include demos in the database by embedding audio files in the document.

I have a separate section for inspiration and ideas, which is a kind of brain dump, e.g. words I think would make a good song, a certain theme for a song, a melody that's been stuck in my head, a vibe I'd like to try out, etc.

I've also been watching a lot of tutorials for music production and there's a section where I write my notes for that.

Eintsein

The last section of my Notion app is for this blog. Which has pages for

New posts. These are ideas for future posts, asks that I think would need longer answers, as well as posts that are currently in the draft stage (like this one was before I posted it)

Design assets. This is where I put all the visual branding material for Eintsein.com to be used in posts and any visual material on the blog.

FAQ. Having an FAQ document just makes it so much easier to make changes to your existing FAQ. Plus, if you ever change your FAQ theme, you just have to copy and paste what you already have.

Post directory. I keep track of all my previous masterposts, infographics, and generally longer and more comprehensive posts. It's the exact same as what you see on my Navigation page. And yes, the document contains direct links to the post.

New theme. A project I've been working on the past couple days is trying to create my own theme for my blog. This is where I put all my outlines, brainstorming notes, design inspiration, code snippets, etc.There are some pretty awesome features I’ve made use of in this page:

As you can probably tell, I'm absolutely obsessed with Notion since it has such awesome features and endless possibilities for customization. So far I've been using Notion for personal projects, which, since they are quite big in scale and have no set deadline, are important to organize well. My summer courses were only 6 weeks and weren't difficult to organize.

The formats above are just how I personally use notion. You could make some of your own, or if you don't think you want to build your pages from scratch, there are tons of templates to choose from. Here are some I think I'll be using in the near future and may be helpful for others as well, especially students like myself:

One drawback, however, is that Notion has a rather steep learning curve, but there are tons of tutorials online (especially YouTube) and I guarantee you it's all worth it.

Notion is not just a productivity app. It's a way to concretize your entire life.

Notion is free to use, but there are higher tiers that allow for more blocks, greater file size, etc. I use a personal account, which is $4 per month with unlimited block storage and no file upload limit (although I got it for $33/year). Personally I think the free plan would suit most people's needs, especially if you're not uploading large files.

#mine #eintsein #mymp #notion #apps #productivity #studyblr #studyspo #study hard #organization #document #graphic #design #infographic #masterpost #advice #tips

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patchworkofstars · 4 years

Text

How (Not) to Meet Your Soulmate

Read on AO3

Relationships: Prinxiety and Logicality

Words: 4,082

Synopsis: It's moving-in day at college, and soulmates Logan and Patton are looking forward to finally meeting in person after years of writing each other messages on their skin. Their friends Roman and Virgil, however, just can't seem to do things the easy way!

** Thanks to: **

@lovelylogans for the Secret Santa wishes that inspired this fic in the first place

@metaphoricalpluto for helping me brainstorm ideas, listening to me rant, and generally being an awesome and supportive bean

@painfullybisexual for going above and beyond in helping me understand how US colleges work

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

“How”, complains Roman, “Is anyone meant to fit all their outfits into a shoebox like that?” He waves a frustrated arm at the tiny closet the college has provided, then glares at the three cases worth of clothes on his bed. The pile steadfastly fails to reduce.

“I managed it okay!” the room’s other occupant points out cheerfully, smiling over from where he’s pinning photographs of family, friends, and various cute animals haphazardly onto a cork notice board.

“I meant anyone fashionable", Roman amends, flashing his childhood friend and now roommate a grin to show he means no malice.

Patton giggles, reaching to pin another photo, then drops it with a sudden squeal. Grabbing a bright blue pen from his desk, he flings himself joyfully onto his bed, all else temporarily forgotten in favour of the neat indigo text rapidly appearing on his arm.

Roman rolls his eyes. “What time is your date with Logan?” he asks, once Patton has finished replying to his soulmate and flopped back onto his bed with a contented sigh.

“Four o’clock, at the fountain in the main quad”, Patton says, a dreamy look in his eyes. “I can’t believe I’m finally going to meet him face to face!”

“Yes...” Roman busies himself cramming yet more outfits onto the already overstuffed rail in his closet, while studiously avoiding looking at his own, conspicuously bare arm.

“Have you arranged when you’re gonna meet Virgil yet?” The question was inevitable; it’s not Patton’s fault that Roman was hoping not to hear it.

Roman pauses in the act of hanging up a prince costume he's sure he'll find an essential use for at some point. "We're thinking of meeting tomorrow instead", he replies, keeping his tone light. "Virgil's stressed about moving in and navigating the new place, even with Logan around, and we figured after all these years we can survive another day apart."

“You don’t mind waiting?” Patton sits up, frowning, and Roman tries not to squirm under his gaze.

He grimaces. “Well, okay, I'm not thrilled about it, but I want to do what’s best for Virgil. And besides, now we’re on the same campus, there’s a chance fate might intervene.” He presses his hands to his chest, his expression morphing into the smile of an incurable daydreamer. “An encounter of destiny, unplanned, between two souls bound to each other! Doesn’t that sound so much more exciting than something planned?”

“Well, as long as it’s what you guys both want!” Patton smiles, uncapping his pen once more and drawing a heart on his arm. As soon as Roman turns away to continue unpacking, he bites his lip. Beginning a new message to Logan, he thanks the universe, not for the first time, that his soulmate and Roman’s are best friends too.

~~*~~*~~*~~

Logan finished unpacking over an hour ago, taking pleasure in carefully organising his small selection of semi-formal clothes and his more extensive collection of books. Now, he sits relaxing at his desk, reading information about the college in between messages too and from Patton.

Reaching the end of a paragraph, he glances once more at his left arm and notices a new stretch of blue ink dancing its way into being across the skin. He frowns thoughtfully as he reads the words. Hmm…

He looks over to where Virgil is lying back on his bed, surrounded by messy heaps of his unpacked belongings. His eyes are closed and he's listening to music on his headphones, shutting out the chaos and unfamiliarity of his surroundings. Still, Logan knows that exclusion doesn't extend to himself. They've been friends since middle school, and the neurodiversity that brought them together has given them a shared need for space and stability. Virgil finds organising his room a trial, so, on Logan's advice, he's pacing himself. First, he unpacked by dumping everything out of his bags, and now he's taking a break before tackling the more substantial chore of organising it all for the year ahead.

Watching Virgil twitch slightly to the beat of the music, Logan considers. Patton's concern is a reasonable one. Logan was surprised himself by Virgil's reluctance to meet Roman, and while he didn't press the issue at the time, his soulmate has offered a different perspective. Perhaps some subtle investigating is in order after all.

“Virgil”, he begins, to get his roommate’s attention, “Why are you delaying meeting Roman? I realise you find the prospect of meeting new people a stressful one, but surely you cannot consider Roman a stranger after so many years of communication with him?”

Virgil grimaces, opening his eyes and rolling over to face Logan. “Take a wild guess”, he grunts. “I’m putting it off because I know he’s gonna be disappointed. I’ve been able to make him think I’m cool and edgy in writing, but that won’t last two minutes in person when I don’t have all that extra time to think about what to say.”

Logan frowns. “I have never read any reputable reports of people being disappointed when meeting their soulmates. On the contrary, most studies have found a remarkable degree of compatibility between even those with markedly different personalities.”

“Tell that to my anxiety, L.” Virgil sighs, propping himself up onto an elbow. “It’s just a massive step, you know? Feels like too much to handle on the same day as moving in here.”

“Entirely reasonable.” Logan gives what he hopes is a reassuring smile. “It was not my intention to pressure you into meeting sooner. Still, I want you to know I am confident that when you do meet Roman, you will find him happy to accept every side of you, even the ones you struggle to accept yourself.”

“Maybe.” Virgil clearly isn’t convinced, but Logan decides to drop the topic for now. If he’s still refusing to meet Roman tomorrow, they can discuss the issue further then.

He glances at his watch. "I need to leave soon for my planned meeting with Patton. Will you be okay without me?"

“Already?” Virgil groans, flopping onto his back once more.

“We arranged to meet an hour before the new students' assembly to give us ample time for conversation." He hesitates, trying not to sound reluctant as he adds, "If you need to come with me, I am sure Patton will understand."

Virgil shudders. “Hell no, I don’t wanna watch you being sappy and weird. I’ll be okay. Probably turn my music up and kill time by organising some of my stuff.”

Logan nods. “A sensible idea.” Picking up his bag, he checks he has everything he wants to take with him, then takes a deep breath. “I will see you later. Please send me a text if you need me. I may not see it immediately, but I will be sure to check periodically in case.”

Hand on the door handle, he freezes abruptly as an unexpected wave of nervous adrenaline hits him. Distantly, he’s aware of Virgil asking if he’s okay, and he nods despite the way his heart is hammering in his chest. “Text me if you need me”, he repeats, the words a mantra of friendship. Then the handle turns, and he is on his way.

~~*~~*~~*~~

It’s 3:55 when Logan arrives at the fountain, his usual precise punctuality waved in the hope of seeing Patton's. He sits down on the curved stone seat, hands gripping the concrete to still their shaking as he scans the crowds moving around him. The walk across campus has helped to clear the nervous fog from his mind, but the way his heart is pounding, a less scientific thinker would say it was trying to escape his chest.

Wrapped up in these thoughts, he doesn’t notice Patton until the man is six yards away, his long stride rapidly closing that distance. Logan freezes, his heart continuing its thudding beat but somehow doubling the rate, and he has to force himself to breathe. He stands on shaking legs, his eyes fixed irresistibly on the figure now standing before him.

Patton beams down, all tan skin and cotton candy sweater. “Logan?” he asks breathlessly, and Logan’s head nods mechanically as he stares.

Patton's smile somehow widens even further, and he shakes his hands at his sides as if needing to expend some of his boundless excited energy. "I'm so happy to finally meet you! Face to face, I mean! Is it okay if I shake your hand? It sounds silly, but I kinda need to touch you so that I'll know you're really real!"

Something in Logan’s chest relaxes, letting him breathe more easily at last. “I assure you I am no illusion”, he says, smiling as he holds out his left hand.

Patton stares at it, then giggles, and Logan suddenly understands the metaphor of being hit by Cupid’s arrow.

“I forgot we’re opposite-handed!" Patton explains, holding out his own left hand to shake Logan’s eagerly. “I mean, I knew, obviously, but it’s somehow different seeing it in person. Like, now I really know, you know?”

"Indeed, observing for oneself is generally more impactful than hearing information secondhand.” Logan smiles up at him. “You are taller than I expected. For some reason, I assumed you would be approximately my height or shorter, although I now realise that was irrational of me."

Does he sound silly? Perhaps, but he’s unexpectedly overwhelmed by the feelings Patton is eliciting in him. They’ve been having written conversations ever since their soul connection formed, and over time a friendly intimacy has developed between them. Several years have passed since he became aware of the warm sensation thoughts of Patton bring to his chest.

But now, having the man standing before him, seeing his brown eyes sparkling with joy and excitement and the affection in his smile... Hearing his voice and the soft lilt of his accent... Logan has never felt so much all at once before, and it's sending his usually tidy thoughts swirling and scattering like papers in a sudden breeze.

Patton laughs, and the sound shoots another arrow of giddy heat into Logan's chest. "Guess we never thought to tell each other our heights, huh? I'm kinda glad I'm taller than you, though, wanna know why?"

“Why is that?” Logan asks, dazed.

Patton beams at him. "'Cause it means I can wrap you up in a great big hug like I've always wanted to! If you're okay with it, that is?"

Logan nods emphatically, finding his expansive vocabulary buried beneath the sudden lump in his throat. As Patton wraps strong arms around him and rests a warm cheek on his hair, his eyes prickle with what he’s confused to realise are tears. The sensation is so rare, it takes a moment for him to connect them to the glow of happiness spreading through him. With a contented sigh, he raises his own arms to hug Patton back, settling comfortably into his embrace.

~~*~~*~~*~~

Virgil sits on the edge of his bed, frantically bouncing one knee as he wonders if he should set out alone to the assembly. Deep in his spiralling thoughts, he startles hard when his phone buzzes with a text from Logan.

“Salutations,

Would it be possible for you to make your way to the event without me? I realise it may be selfish, but I am keen to spend as much time as possible getting to know Patton better. You are welcome to sit with us if we encounter you when we get there.

- Logan”.

Dammit. It’s what Virgil was expecting, but that doesn’t mean he’s happy about it. He hates both crowds and formal events, and the thought of walking into this combination alone causes bitter dread to pool in the pit of his stomach. Plus, going without Logan means he’s almost guaranteed to end up sitting next to total strangers. He shudders.

Still, he refuses to make Logan worry. Firing back a quick “I’ll be okay”, he puts his earphones in and tries to lose himself in the music as he makes his way across campus to the venue.

Head down, eyes fixed on the ground a foot ahead of him, he tries to forget just how many people are heading the same way he is. As he approaches the hall, he becomes vaguely aware of a loud voice talking nearby. The small part of his mind paying attention concludes it's a telephone conversation, since only one side can be heard.

“But you can’t just abandon me to sit on my own!” the voice wails. “What will people think?! Yes, I’m sure he is handsome and smart and wonderful, but bros before souls, that’s what I always say. Well, okay, maybe I’ve never said it before, but I’m saying it now! Yes, I know, I can hear him. You're right, his accent is cute. I can’t wait to hear my soulmate's- OUCH!!"

A flailing arm thuds into Virgil, who is nearly thrown off balance by the shock of the impact. He looks up, glaring daggers, to find the loudmouth scowling back with equal fury.

“Watch where you’re going, clod!” the overdressed stranger rants.

“Same to you, watch where you’re flinging your arms!”

"I'm having an important conversation-"

“What’s the point in waving your arms around when the person on the phone can’t even-”

They're interrupted by an official-sounding voice ringing out over a tannoy, reminding everyone that the assembly will begin soon and they should hurry inside and find seats.

The disparate parts of the crowd begin to converge, pushing into the hall, and Virgil and the loud stranger are carried along side by side in the flow. They find themselves pushed together to sit on the end of a row of chairs, and although Virgil is still annoyed, he takes some relief at having the aisle seat.

“How did I get stuck next to the emo nightmare?" he hears his neighbour grumble under his breath.

“Karma for being a nightmare yourself”, Virgil mutters, and the stranger at least has the decency to blush.

Their bickering might have continued indefinitely, but at that moment the MC steps up to the microphone to begin their welcome, and an unspoken truce descends.

*****

When at last it's over, Virgil sits back in his chair and sighs wearily. "That was even more boring than I thought it would be", he remarks to no one in particular.

Of course, the stranger beside him responds as though it were directed at him. “I’m surprised you heard any of it with your earphones in the whole time. I could hear your music all the way through!”

Virgil turns and raises an eyebrow. "Yeah? Well, maybe you wouldn't have if you hadn't been leaning over so close to me. You were practically on my lap!"

The stranger huffs, glaring back at him. “It’s not like I had a choice! It was the only way I could see past that mountain of a guy in front of me!”

“Well, sorry I didn’t realise you were so keen for a good view of some guy standing talking.” Virgil scowls. “So you could hear my music, huh? Is that why you kept tapping your fingers on your knee? Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

“I didn’t realise you were paying so much attention to my legs! And besides, I defy anyone not to tap their fingers along to Panic! At The Disco!”

“Wait, you recognised it?” Virgil frowns at the thoroughly preppy-looking guy next to him. “I wasn’t exactly the mainstream stuff. I didn’t take you for an emo.”

“If you must know, my soulmate's an emo, and he introduced me to them. I might not share all his tastes, but as a theatre kid, I always appreciate theatrical flair."

Oh right, soulmates are a thing. Virgil gives a grunt that could mean anything, turning his attention away from the stranger's continued rambling. He watches as more and more individuals and groups make their way to the exits. All the freshmen are meant to be here, which means Roman must be somewhere amongst them. For the first time, he almost regrets never asking for a photograph or more detailed physical description. But he always feared Roman would expect the same from him in return, and then be disappointed or put off by his ever-present hoodie and black eye shadow.

It doesn’t help that the vague description he’s been given of “Tall, with brown hair and blue eyes”, could fit far too many of the students here, including the one tapping a foot and making impatient noises beside him.

With a sigh, Virgil stands up, switching his music back on and turning up the volume as he waits for a gap in the flow of bodies. As soon as one appears, he steps into it, letting himself be absorbed and carried away towards the door. As he moves away, he’s distantly aware of his former seat-mate speaking, but he’s too stressed, too busy trying to blot out the strangers surrounding him to think of looking back.

~~*~~*~~*~~

Roman sighs, flopping dramatically backwards onto his bed. It's been a long day, and he wants to relax, but his mind buzzes restlessly with frustration.

Patton sent a text to say he’ll be getting dinner at the dining hall with Logan, and while he did say Roman was welcome to join them, Roman has no desire to play third wheel, thank you very much. Besides which, he can't shake the petty resentment that his hopes of a destiny-driven encounter with Virgil have apparently been dashed. Instead, he got stuck with some other emo, who, while admittedly very cute, had the cheek, the absolute bare-faced audacity to zone out while Roman was speaking to him and then walk away without even a goodbye!

With a huff, Roman rolls over and glares at the time. It’s 7:15 pm, earlier than his and Virgil’s usual chat time, but he needs to feel connected to his soulmate right now. With a surge of misery, he realises he’s lonely, as well as more envious of Patton and Logan than he’d like to admit.

Fumbling in a pocket, he pulls out the red glitter gel pen he reserves for soul-to-soul talks, and writes “Hey, stormcloud, are you free?” on his left arm.

After a few moments, a spidery dark purple reply writes itself onto his right arm. “Yeah, wanna talk now?”

"Patton's off with Logan, and I need to vent!" He underlines "vent" three times, as emphatic in writing as he would be out loud.

“Is that all I am to you? A listening arm?” It’s followed by their own version of a “:P”, to show that Virgil is joking.

“Of course not, my shadowling! But I’ve had the most boring day, and I'm lonely~".

“Yeah yeah, Logan’s ditched me too, remember? Did you make it to the assembly? I looked for you”.

Roman groans, then does his best to reproduce the sound in writing. “Uggghhh, I did, and I got stuck next to the most annoying guy ever!”

“Hah! Can’t have, because the most annoying guy was sitting next to me. He kept fidgeting and getting in my space through the whole thing”.

Roman grins, standing up and moving to the sink, where he rinses the red ink from his arm to make space for more, Virgil must have the same idea, because a moment later the purple text begins erasing itself too.

“I wish I could’ve sat with you”, he writes, as soon as his arm is dry.

“Same”. There’s a pause, and then, “Kinda regret not meeting you today”.

Roman stares at the words, running his left hand unconsciously through his hair. Destiny might have denied him a chance first meeting, but if Virgil has changed his mind, there’s no reason for them to hold back any longer. Decision made, he uncaps his pen and writes “Want to meet now?” before he can lose his nerve.

The seconds tick by with no response, not a drop of purple ink appearing, and he begins to worry he’s misjudged Virgil’s feelings. Then, at last, three letters appear, small but undeniable:

“Yes”.

“Yes!!” Roman echoes in a yell to the empty room, leaping up and grabbing his jacket from the back of his desk chair. Then he hesitates, sitting back down on the edge of the bed as he realises he doesn’t know where Virgil’s room is. Or even if he’s there, for that matter.

Besides which, while Virgil did accept the offer, his reply wasn’t exactly enthusiastic. Best to make certain he really wants to do this first.

“Are you sure? I don’t mind waiting”, Roman writes, adding a smiley face for good measure.

This time there is only a short pause before the words appear. “Yeah, the whole assembly thing made me wanna see you properly”.

Roman takes a deep breath, trying to still the tremor of excitement rushing through him. “Okay!” he writes back. “Want me to bring anything? I have a popcorn maker and every single Disney movie!”

“Seriously? You brought a freaking popcorn maker to college?”

“We always said we’d have movie nights when we finally met up, eating popcorn and talking all through the films!”

“You are so unbelievably extra”.

“You love it!”

“Yeah, I’m weird like that.”

“So, no popcorn?” Roman asks.

“Are you kidding? Of course bring popcorn!”

Roman grins.

*****

He takes his time making the popcorn, giving Virgil space to adjust to the change in plans. As he does, his thoughts drift to his grumpy seat-mate from earlier, and he remembers wincing as the guy picked at his chipped black nail polish during the endless speeches.

That gives him an idea…

“How about we paint our nails while we talk?” he suggests. “It’s relaxing and we’ll look good!”

“Sure”, appears on his arm. “I’ve only got black and purple though.”

“Fear not, my dark and stormy knight, I have every colour of the rainbow!” Roman grabs his makeup pouch and empties it onto his desk, separating out a selection of his favourites. These he puts back in the pouch, then it goes into his bag with the tub of popcorn.

“I’m ready to head out!” he writes on his arm. “Where’s your room?”

There’s a pause, then the address appears. But before Roman can lower his arm, Virgil adds, “Brace yourself for disappointment”.

“Why?” he writes back, frowning.

“I’m just… probably not gonna be as cool as you expect”.

“Don’t worry, I know you’re not as cool as me!” He replies immediately, then hesitates. Virgil has been vulnerable with him, and he should repay the honesty.

“I’m nervous too”, he admits, “But this is us, remember? We’ve spoken every day since we turned ten and our soul bond formed. We’ve listened to each others’ favourite music, watched each others’ favourite movies, and stayed up all night talking. We’ve shared our hopes, our fears, and our dreams. Even if we weren’t soulmates, you're my best friend, and I love you. Nothing's going to change that.

*****

It's a short walk across campus to Virgil's dorm, and nervous energy quickens Roman's strides. At last, he finds the right number door and gives a firm knock. Slowly, cautiously, it opens to reveal...

“You?!” Roman practically screeches.

“Seriously?!”

“I cannot believe this! Are you actually telling me you’re Virgil?”

“How many ginger-haired emos from Milwaukee do you think there are on campus?!”

“You’re Virgil...” There’s a pause as Roman’s expression visibly cycles from indignant, through dawning realisation, to settle on contrite. “Sorry about, you know...” He waves his arm, and Virgil raises an eyebrow.

“Sorry you clobbered me with your arm?”

“Well, yes… I was talking to Patton and didn’t notice you.”

“Yeah, I got that. Sorry I wasn’t, you know, watching where I was going.” Virgil looks down, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “Look, I know I’m annoying. If you’re gonna leave, just go.”

Roman frowns. “Don’t be ridiculous. You might be annoying, but you’re my best friend! I came here to eat popcorn, riff on Disney movies, and hug you, and I’m not leaving until I’ve done all three!”

Virgil looks up, finally managing a lopsided smile. “You sure?”

“Of course! And besides, I bet I can be twice as annoying as you.”

With a snort, Virgil steps back, opening the door further to let Roman in. “Good to know fate made the two most annoying guys in the world soulmates.”

Roman grins. “Soulmates about to have the best evening ever!” he replies.

~~*~~*~~*~~ *~~

@creativity-killed-thekitten @the-prince-and-the-emo @shesavampirequeen @patton-in-name @pearls-of-patton @xxladystarlightxx @suyun-doo @softestlittlepuffball @evilmuffin @milomeepit @musikasworld @holy-anxiety-batman @quoth-the-sparrow @daring-elm @sandersfanders

#prinxiety #logicality #roman sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #sanders sides #soulmate au #patchwork fic

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warsmith-38 · 3 years

Text

How I would do RWBY pt. 7

War Arc.

Season Seven.

The Cabal is standing room only and Salem is enraged at recent turn of events.

Complains loudly to Myrmidon.

Myrmidon assures Salem that the current plan is not only progressing smoothly but Ozpin still has no idea what it is.

Salem calms down and her mind turns to Cinder. Particularly the fact that Ozpin has captured Cinder.

Salem wonders if she ever told Cinder about the current plan.

She realizes that, yes, yes she did.

Salem is once again angry.

RWBY and JN(P)R are enjoying relative peace as next moves are planned.

Neo is the most cooperative with authorities out of team CEMN.

Due to being, more or less, just hired help she isn’t all that helpful.

Emerald and Mercury are in a similar situation due to being Cinder’s direct underlings and not Salem’s.

All they know is what Cinder told them, which was only just enough to keep them compliant.

Cinder is the one that would have information but is quite tightlipped about things that aren’t insults.

Ozpin wants answers but Ironwood draws the line at out and out torturing a teenager.

Cinder is just waiting in her cell with one arm cuffed to a chair.

WBY and JN(P)R all have a go at trying to make her talk. (Ruby isn’t allowed near her)

Blake tries empathizing with her situation, formerly being one of the bad guys herself.

Cinder says that Blake was an easily swayed idiot who didn’t know what she was actually doing.

Ren and Nora try good cop bad cop.

Cinder calls both of them morons.

Weiss tries bribing her with money and medical help for her missing bits.

Cinder tells her to eat shit.

Jaune tries a ‘you’re a deranged psychopath, prove me wrong’ approach.

Cinder taunts him by talking about killing Pyrrha.

Not only does Jaune have to be pulled out of there, Ren and Nora have to be talked down from cutting the cameras and shank-rushing her.

Ironwood offers her a plea bargain. Spill on Salem and don’t get hanged for heinous war crimes.

Cinder rebukes all of it to varying degrees of profanity.

Penny’s turn.

Penny doesn’t ask her any questions or try anything.

All she says is that she forgives Cinder, that someone should even if no one else ever would.

Cinder is a little unnerved but remains uncooperative.

Everyone calls it quits for the day.

Ruby sneaks into Cinder’s cell when no one is looking.

Cinder almost has a heart attack out of fear of what Ruby will do to her.

Gives her an emotional speech on how Cinder and Salem ruined her life and the worst part is that it was her new best friend that did it.

Ruby is found and escorted out of the cell.

Cinder, having slightly awakened her long ignored heart, says that she did consider Ruby a sort of friend.

Ruby tells her to go to hell.

Yang notices that Cinder’s veneer is peeling.

Decides to take her shot.

Yang surmises that Salem was involved, to a degree, in raising Cinder.

Cinder confirms but also is insulting.

Yang talks about how she knows a little something about parental figures who don’t give a crap.

Cinder gets angry, says that she knows that Salem cares about her.

Yang says that if Salem cared then why did Cinder have to go to Atlas to try and get her attention again?

Cinder starts flinging insults about unloving mother figures.

Yang flings back better ones.

Cinder brags that they’re all dead anyway.

Says that Salem’s big plan is to set off a special bomb-like grimm that will turn another chunk of the planet into grimm land just like the territory around her sanctum.

Ensuring a lack of stability that will force the rest of the world to adapt and evolve.

She doesn’t know where Salem is planning to set it off though.

Everything across the previous seasons was trying to maximize chances of it going off without a hitch.

Weakening potential target areas, providing distractions, eliminating threats, things like that.

That or it was just another attempt to kill Ozpin. Sometimes both. Mostly both.

That’s when she realizes that she just told Salem’s master plan directly to her greatest opposition.

Says that her talking won’t matter and will enjoy watching Salem kill all of them.

Yang tells her to stop being such a chuunibyou.

Ozpin’s Council (Him, Ironwood, Glynda, Qrow, Winter, RWBY, JN(P)R, Ciel, mad scientist) start trying to deduce where Salem will set off the grimm nuke.

Atlas is too militarized, even with the troubles there. Vacuo is too close and wouldn’t provide much strategically. Menagerie and Mistral are both too out of the way to be of use.

The target is Vale. A centralized zone that still has yet to completely recover from the events of the school arc and will further fragment the free peoples of the world.

Not to mention that it’s Ozpin’s personal favorite kingdom. Just another insult on a very long list.

Everyone packs up and heads to Vale for a very somber return home.

Emerald, Neo, and Mercury offer to properly switch sides on the grounds that they had no idea about the whole ‘fuck over the world’ thing.

They only signed on to cause a little trouble and get paid.

They want to help stop Salem now, especially if they’re probably considered expendable collateral.

Offer is appreciated but the handcuffs stay on.

Upon arrival in Vale, Ruby and Yang are immediately accosted by Tai.

Tai is upset with Ruby for running off and not doing so much as ever calling him and he’s upset with Yang just for not calling ever.

He’s proud of his girls for doing so much to help the world, but still.

Raven is there too and offers Ruby a hug from her new stepmother.

Tai and Raven reveal their wedding rings, showing that they have in fact tied the knot (Tai’d the knot).

Yang BSODs for a moment.

Raven has a moment with Yang and Ruby, saying that she took the scolding to heart and realized that, yes, she was a piece of shit.

Came back to Tai to try and start making up for things.

It took a little work but Tai is no longer a depressed, overprotective, neglectful, sad sack of crap, so maybe it’s not the worst thing that she’s back.

She’s also given all the intel she acquired while part of the Cabal.

R+Y are skeptical but intend to burn that bridge when they cross it later.

Cinder sneaks out of her cell.

Tries to bust EMN out too.

They rebuke her, saying that they would rather not help permanently fuck over a continent and by extension the world for no real reason beyond ‘because you said so’.

They would rather live in the world, not destroy it.

Cinder leaves them to rot, finds her gear, and steals a new robo-arm for her trouble, doing everything she can to stay under the radar while she thinks of what to do next.

RWBY + JN(P)R have trips down memory lane as they walk through the ruins or the rebuilt versions of their old haunts.

Remembering the good times and the bad.

The trials and tribulations as well as the warm memories that they keep dreaming about returning to.

Then they get to work.

They scour the recovering city of Vale first for any sign of anything grimm or Salem related.

Team CRDL, who stayed in Vale as volunteer workers and security, say that aside from a few more grimm raids, nothing special has happened in months.

CRDL assist as much as a team of jobber jabronis can.

Surprisingly, they don’t act like cunts.

Ozpin realizes that the only places that haven’t been searched were the places he’s kept secret.

Reveals his illuminati style cave with monitoring equipment that has tabs all over the world.

It has cameras and stuff in places that Ozpin has absolutely no right or need to know about.

Low and behold, grimm have tunneled into it.

Myrmidon is in there, checking up on things.

She introduces herself to the main characters and then cheeses it, leaving a distraction force of grimm.

After they’re dealt with, they turn their attention to the big fucking elephant in the room.

Massive, bulbous, monster of a centipede grimm is right in the center of the chamber. The grimm nuke.

They’ve found it, sure, but now what do they do?

The Council has a brainstorming session to try and come up with a solution.

Can’t just kill it, it’ll go off.

Raven’s portals only go to people she’s bonded with in some way and it would still fuck up wherever it was teleported to.

It’s a living thing so disarming it like a conventional bomb is not exactly possible.

EMN are questioned on what they might know about it but aren’t able to help much.

This is when they realize that Cinder is gone.

Search effort begins to stop her from fucking everything up.

Yang and Jaune eventually find Cinder.

Keep up the browbeating even as they fight her.

Cinder says that even if she wanted to help, Salem would kill her if she did.

Yang calls Salem a bitch.

She says that Salem’s about to kill her anyway when the thing goes boom.

Cinder relents and says that she’s not sure but Ruby’s white fire is probably the key.

Salem had Summer killed out of fear of her semblance potentially interfering with this exact plan.

Cinder about to am-scray while Yang and Jaune are distracted by putting plan together.

Jaune stops her.

Punches her in the face, hitting the side that can see.

Says that that was for Pyrrha.

Cinder runs off rubbing her jaw.

Begin white fire surgery.

They cut small, precise, holes in the grimm and Ruby burns the resulting goo deluge.

Plan is working shockingly well. Grimm is losing explosive fuel by the truckload.

Takes some time, but eventually all that is left is the monster itself and the explosive trigger.

Trigger goes off in a pathetically emaciated whiff.

Everyone celebrates.

Then they realize that they still have a massive centipede grimm monster that is in the top ten largest ever recorded grimm underneath Vale.

Said massive centipede grimm turns on default mode. Default mode being rushing towards the nearest living thing and killing it.

Said grimm bursts into downtown Vale with more grimm coming behind it.

Right when they had just finished cleaning it up.

Season final boss time.

RWBY, JN(P)R, CRDL, EMN, and the living elements of STRQ fight the grimm.

Professors of Beacon are also helping as well as The Council in general.

Cinder, in her attempt to get out of there, gets caught in the fighting too.

Fuck it. CFVY and SSSN show up from Mistral on Ozpin’s request for backup.

All. The. Warriors.

EVERYONE gets a hit or two in on the grimm.

Big final hit with everyone involved.

Grimm is dead.

Salem is back in her sanctum watching this on a crystal ball or whatever.

Her own rage and frustration at what happened spawns a whole new horde of grimm.

Screams loud enough to break all the glass in her sanctum.

Ruby and Cinder have stare-down after grimm is dead.

Both silently decide that there are bigger fish to fry and go their separate ways.

Big celebration party. World saw RWBY kick absolute ass.

Cinder is out of options so she is now on her way back to Salem.

Myrmidon is sharpening her spear/sword/rifle.

She can’t wait.

Season seven done.

#RWBY #Rewrite #Ruby Rose #Weiss Schnee #Blake Belladonna #Yang Xiao Long #Team JNPR #Cinder Fall #Emerald Sustrai #Mercury Black #Neopolitan #Ozpin #Salem #Myrmidon #How I would do...

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scintillating-galaxias · 4 years

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all the time in the world

(read it here on ao3! sorry for the double post of this, i’ll delete the other one now that this one is properly up :,)

Perceptor suppresses a yawn as he watches Brainstorm's servos fly over the keyboard to their command console. Perceptor had finished his own tasks long ago, and although he's spent many nights alone in berth while Brainstorm continued to work, he refuses to let him stay here again. So he quietly waits from the doorway, watching his partner's as he hunches over the console. He can tell his partner is tired because instead of being a fluttering blur, Perceptor can actually make out the individual digits of Brainstorm's hand with shocking clarity. Other than the rapid-fire tak-tak-tak of the keys, their lab is almost entirely silent.

It's unnatural for quiet and Brainstorm to exist in the same instance of space. Where one exists, the other does not. But his usual muttering and noisy methods of working had ceased long ago, snuffed out by frustration. Now his work is punctuated only by sharper sounding stabs at the keys or huffs of dissatisfaction. Usually, there's something to be said for when Brainstorm's so focused on his work he forgoes his usual ruckus. It's like his intensity is so compelling, it demands every drop of attention from absolutely everything in the room. Perceptor himself is no less affected by this phenomenon, willingly drawn in by the enigma that is Brainstorm. But knowing it's only happening now purely because he's so exhausted somewhat dampens that fierce swell of adoration.

For the fifth time that night, Perceptor calls, "Brainstorm, please come to berth."

"I've almost got it," comes the predicted response. "Jus' one more test. Last one, I swear."

"You said that seven trials ago."

"Funny how that works out," mutters Brainstorm. But he still doesn't move. After a moment, Perceptor sighs and crosses the room to slot himself right beside Brainstorm. One arm loosely wraps itself around Brainstorm's, and the other loops around his middle. Brainstorm stiffens for a moment, then with one long, hissing exvent, sinks against Perceptor.

"I hate being smart," he moans.

"That's a first for you."

"I can't get my stupid processor to shut up about this thing. I need it to work so I can fraggin' recharge, but I keep messing up 'cause I'm tired." He huffs and throws up throws up the arm not being held by Perceptor exasperatedly. "I just don't get it. I was doing great a few hours ago, and then I just—fizzled out. Blanked. Totally blanked. I don't 'fizzle out,' Percy! I don't 'blank!'"

"You do when you overwork your systems for cycles on end," Perceptor chides gently.

"Eh, I've done worse for longer. You shoulda seen me P.T.S."

"P.T.S.?"

"Pre-timecase success. It's a working title. You would've had a conniption."

"That's not better. You understand that's not any better, right?"

Brainstorm shrugs and resumes typing. Perceptor idly examines the complicated equations and diagrams on the screen. Brainstorm's latest project involved a new form of teleportation technology that, hypothetically, would completely rework the field of space-time travel. Only, right now, it's only capable of spitting out distorted and completely unusable drinking cubes in different places in their lab. Hundreds of them fill the disposal bin in the back. A few more spill onto the floor. Perceptor has one on his desk that vaguely resembles a bit of waste left by alloygator labeled "NW-BS-TST238." It holds approximately a single mouthful of energon and is simultaneously one of Perceptor's most useless and most dear possessions.

"You're working yourself beyond efficiency," Perceptor hums, bumping his helm against Brainstorm's. "You can only go for so long before your efforts begin to go against themselves. You need to recharge."

Brainstorm's arms strain slightly towards the console. Perceptor squeezes him a little bit tighter in response. "I can't stop now," he says reluctantly. "I really have something going here and if I—"

"And you'll think of something even better tomorrow," Perceptor says, unwinding his arm from Brainstorm's to instead thread his digits in between his to hold his servo in the same loose grip. "You always try to make things better. You don't settle for enough. That is only a small fraction of what makes you extraordinary." He presses a soft kiss to the side of Brainstorm's helm. "But that doesn't mean you can completely omit recharging as a necessity for your function. Come."

"Maybe that's what I should work on next," Brainstorm says half-jokingly. Perceptor shoots him a flat glare. "Kidding. I couldn't give up coming online beside you anymore."

Perceptor's monocle fogs up a bit with how quickly his faceplates heat. "Well," he says as diligently as he can, "we wouldn't want that, would we?"

"Pit, no." Brainstorm finally lifts his servos away from the keyboard. "You're right, though. I'm probably gonna end up deleting everything here tomorrow anyway."

He hits "save" and steps away from the console. Or, he at least tries to. Perceptor suspects Brainstorm somehow forgot someone was holding on to him because he stumbles right over Perceptor's pede and only stays upright because of Perceptor's hand on his waist. "Huh," he mumbles.

"Tired, are we?"

"You can't prove anything."

Perceptor chuckles as he gently begins to lead Brainstorm out of the lab and guides them down the darkened hallway to their shared suite. Now that he's out of the lab, Brainstorm seems completely unable to halt the exhaustion washing over him. He falls silent once again, concentrating on placing one pede in front of the other. Perceptor is still practically carrying him by the time they reach the door to their hab suite.

As he enters the code to their suite, Perceptor asks, "I wasn't aware of any upcoming expos."

"Nah, 's a personal project." Brainstorm furrows his browridge slightly. "I think I kinda hate not having a deadline. Back in our original universe, there was always something that necessess—nessess—" He yawns. "Ugh. Required a schedule. Something to work for. A mission, or some weird new way someone got hurt, or, hell, Whirl getting bored. And now... Yeah. There isn't one now, and that's weird, so I gave myself one. Don't get me wrong," he adds hastily. "I love being here, being with you. Infinite universes? Frag yeah! I just haven't... adjusted." "I think I understand."

The door opens. Perceptor steps into the room and carefully maneuvers Brainstorm into the berth first. Everything about him screams fatigue. His biolights are practically pink with how weak they are; Perceptor is the one to move his drooping wings out of the way when Brainstorm can't even summon the energy to do it himself; his field is feeble and fluttery. Perceptor tsks and moves to plug Brainstorm in, only to frown when he sees the dismaying low numbers on the readout attached to their berth. System failure surely would have been imminent if Brainstorm had spent even one more cycle without recharge.

"Sorry."

"For what?"

"Worrying you. I don't mean to."

Perceptor smiles as he sits down on the edge of the berth. "I know you don't," he says quietly, stroking Brainstorm's wing with a light touch.

"Good."

Perceptor plugs himself in, then goes to lay down right up against Brainstorm, who sleepily shifts his arm enough to allow Perceptor to nestle in close to his chest. Like most fliers, Brainstorm runs warm, and Perceptor can't resist nudging around their limbs a bit to maximize their contact. Judging by Brainstorm's happy sigh, he doesn't mind the arrangement either.

They share a few long, slow vent cycles together.

"It's incredible, really," Perceptor says.

"What is?" "That we're... free. From our planet. Our old lives. The war. Everything." Brainstorm doesn't answer right away. Perceptor wonders if he's finally fallen into recharge. His field is still enough to make him think so. But after a moment, Brainstorm says with a voice fuzzy with sleep, "Never really thought about it." "We can finally create without fear driving us, or anger, or revenge. We can invent not because of mortal peril, but for our own satisfaction. Your very existence was created for the name of the war. Mine, perhaps less literally so, but most of my function was still spent with the Wreckers or inventing the next biggest weapon, our newest shield, the best way to mobilize ourselves to fight or to run." "But that was then." "That was then," Perceptor agrees softly. "This is now. There's no need to run. There's no need to fight. There's a new purpose for us in this universe." He kisses Brainstorm's chest plate, right over his spark, and smiles when he feels Brainstorm's frame rumble happily beneath his lips. "And we have all the time in the world to find it."

#simpatico #brainstorm #perceptor #maccadam #transformers fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #my writing

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wichols · 4 years

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Angst/Fluff Writing Prompt Fun Wrap Up!

Now that I have finally finished all the submitted prompts I thought it would be fun to do a cute little wrap up in case you might have missed any of the stories along the way, along with some background/thoughts/feels about each one! Duration May 13th - July 15th (that was longer than I expected but cool!) 1. Rain and Confessions (Kyoya X Haruhi WC: 1,662) Prompt: “And yet, you’re still not enough.” Summary: After her graduation from law school, Haruhi and Kyoya pack up her apartment in preparation of Haruhi moving back to Japan. Kyoya has been waiting years for this moment and he is going to let Haruhi know exactly how he feels about Haruhi and isn't going to let a little rain ruin his plans for them. AO3, Tumblr, FF.Net Thoughts: This prompt is a canon insecurity for Kyoya and so it was easy for me to write- considering I posted the prompt list on the 13th and uploaded it on the 14th. But also it was so hard to write because they are my OTP!! It pained me to make them suffer like this. To make Kyoya vulnerable is tough. To bring down his walls in front of someone is a struggle. Upon reading back through it I dare say there is a peep of inspiration from Pride and Prejudice (can you spot the hidden Mr. Darcy-like quote?). Favorite Line: “You say that you will do all these things out of your love for me but it is because of my love for you that I cannot accept your offer because you become less of who you are and more of the person you think I need.” 2. Public Masks for Private Matters (Takashi x Haruhi WC: 1,269) Prompt: “Being alone would be better than being married to you.”

Summary: Haruhi has finally reached her breaking point. After winning her career-defining case her world comes crashing down. Blame has been assigned and trust has been broken between Haruhi and Takashi.

AO3, Tumblr, FF.Net Thoughts: The TakaHaru ship is by far one of the hardest ships to use with angsty writing because of the nature of Takashi. The hurt he could inflict on Haruhi isn’t something so obvious like physical/mental/emotional abuse. I think in my mind that it is his lack of response is the most believable response to causing conflict between them- his inability/insecurity to say the right thing at the right time. At least that is what it would come off to others. Takashi is an introvert/observer. If he was experiencing emotional distress he would probably cave in and bottle things up, holding the burden alone. (Spoliers!!) The real secret behind this fic is that Takashi only ever told her the truth. Haruhi busted a major company for the terrible working conditions of their low income employees. A week after the close of the trial she was jumped by a group of people and was sent to the hospital. They had know she was pregnant for a short while and wanted to keep it a secret because of the high profile nature of the case- not even telling friends or family. They lost the baby and it broke them. To this day they still have not mentioned the loss of their child. So naturally they suffer alone, putting on masks for the public. I honestly thought about writing something more with this background information but it just seemed a little difficult to set up the scene. Favorite Line: “The love I held for you is what blinded me.“ 3. Cameras and Questions (Kyoya x Haruhi WC: 1,181) Prompt: An almost kiss Summary: Yet again Kyoya convinces Haruhi to be his date to another gala event. Haruhi asks a question that gets answered in the most unusual way. Is there more going on between a young no-name lawyer and one of Japan's Top 5 Eligible Bachelors than the public is aware? AO3, Tumblr, FF.Net

Thoughts: This was so fun to write! I love writing snarky Haruhi. I also love writing the back and forth between them. I mean they are my OTP I love the chase. XD I feel like they both can be very up front with each other but that they enjoy the subtleties of their conversations. I love the challenge between them, and how they push and test each other. I think in the beginning I didn’t quite know how to put them in a situation where there was an almost kiss, mostly because I still couldn’t get myself to fully commit to a fluffy piece of writing. But I think with what I did I could classify it as fluff defined by my standards (nobody died and everyone is happy). Favorite Line: “I don’t know any Ootori man to half-ass anything.” 4. Disgust and Devotion (Hikaru x Haruhi WC:1,083) Prompt: “Please don’t cry.” & “It’s three in the morning. What could you possibly want?” Summary: They said that it wouldn't work between them. Are their worlds so far apart that it is impossible? Hikaru is caught up in another scandal and Haruhi has reached her limit. Does she love him enough to stay or is she just too weak to leave? AO3, Tumblr, FF.Net Thoughts: I think at this point in the prompts I still couldn’t get myself to write fluff and this ask was a fluff/angst mix with the two prompts provided. I do enjoy writing the HikaHaru ship even if there is not much out there. Originally when I was working on brainstorming ideas the end game was for them to have angry makeup sex. But I just couldn’t twist what I had in a way that would flow naturally with the base plot. I think I like writing Hikaru slightly drunk. It curves his temper and makes him more mellow. But he is still our impulsive little boy and he still has a ways to grow up. This wasn’t the first time that something like this has come up. Though both times he was not at fault (though in the original idea he totally did cheat one drunk night but couldn’t really remember). If anything the fluff is implied at the end.... Favorite Line: “The media can make it look like anything they want to with a well-timed photo.” 5. Love Over Reason (Takashi x Haruhi WC: 2,102) Prompt: “Are you blushing?” Summary: Loving someone is complicated. Sometimes we feel as though the ones we love deserve more than we can give. Does spending six months apart change Takashi and Haruhi's feelings for the better or for worse? AO3, Tumblr, FF.Net Thoughts: There was about 5 days between this fic and Disgust and Devotion and I still couldn’t really bring myself to write straight fluff... But this turned into quite a piece. I think I was hitting a stride of coffee shop AUs and I just couldn’t help myself. Ever love someone so much you push them away because you think it will be better than dragging them through your mess? Well same. I think the fluff in this fic is subtle. They care so deeply for one another that they don’t want to hurt each other more. And just to be kind I added more fluff at the end. I’m not sure I really like how I used the prompt for this one but what’s posted is posted. Favorite Line: “All I have ever wanted from you is you.” - This line still gets me all sorts of choked up when I read it.

6. Brutality Mixed With Intimacy (Takashi x Haruhi WC: 1,455)

Prompt: 'Please don't cry' or 'You know I have feelings for you, right?'

Summary: After months of following dead ends, the Ouran Association finally has a solid lead to obtaining useful information on the ring leader of a major underground human trafficking organization in Japan. All other hits had gone to plan for Takashi but this one hit too close to home. With Haruhi as their next target, he couldn't handle the risk of possibly losing her.

AO3, Tumblr, FF.Net

Thoughts: Cue the beginning evidence of my current obsession with Mafia AU’s... The mafia au is just the perfect setting for my dark angsty heart! I just couldn’t resist. Especially when fluff was so far down the list of things I still wanted to write. I won’t name names but a certain TakaHaru shipper threatened me that they were going to write a fix it fic so that Haruhi actually ended up with Takashi instead of Tamaki. And of course she would end up with Tamaki, he of all of them would have the least blood on his hands.

Favorite Line: “You were never going to make it to the drop off location.”

7. Fashion and Feelings (Hikaru x Haruhi WC: 2,691)

Prompt: “You know I have feelings for you right?”

Summary: After years of silently watching and pining for Haruhi from afar, Hikaru finally gets the courage to reveal his true feelings for her. With his new spring line debuting in a few short days Hikaru is going to lay his fashion reputation and love all on the line in hopes of having his feelings reciprocated.

AO3, Tumblr, FF.Net

Thoughts: Finally, FINALLY, finally I was able to pull out just the most fluffy fluff I could write! Like it took everything I had to put no angst in this one at all. This prompt sat for weeks and weeks without progress. I didn’t have a clue with what I was going to do with it. Like, it laughed at me with it’s blank doc. I wanted this final prompt to be just fluff so I left it to sit until I finally had a spark of fluff. This can be read alone or as part of the back story for Disgust and Devotion.

Favorite Line: “Most people would be creeped out by someone other than a significant other who bought them lingerie.” Final Thoughts:

Shortest- Cameras and Questions Longest- Fashion and Feelings Combined Total Word Count: 11,443 Title Themes- I really wanted to give this round of prompts a slightly longer title theme. My favorite is probably Brutality Mixed With Intimacy but a close runner up is Public Masks for Private Matters.

Favorite- Fashion and Feelings Least Favorite- Love Over Reason Thanks to everyone who submitted requests! It is always a pleasure writing for you!

#OHSHC #ouran host club #ouran hshc #ouran high school host club #haruhi fujioka #tamaki suoh #Kyoya Ootori #hikaru hitachiin #takashi morinozuka #Takashi x Haruhi #Kyoya x Haruhi #Hikaru x Haruhi

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madebycoffee · 4 years

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OH ALSO I finished watching Legend of Korra and here is non spoiler thoughts: I really enjoyed it and just like atla I cried at every single season finale. I really like that the main cast while still young, is older than the lITERAL children of atla. atla still holds up watching it as an adult, but I feel like korra is a bit more my jive. There is only one episode that I won’t watch again (season 4 remembrances, when you are binging the show it isn’t necessary as it’s a recap and not as fun as ember island players which serves the same purpose in atla. Also I looked on IMDB, that is the lowest rated episode. I agree. Honestly, if you are binging you can skip it) but I can def see myself watching the whole thing again. Season 1 is my overall favorite of the series.

Spoiler thoughts below the cut because WOW I HAVE THOUGHTS (it’s long)

hi spoiler time last chance to look away

Before going into LOK I had read a decent amount of spoilers beforehand since this aired back in 2012-2014. I don’t think I even knew about it after it was nearly done so the one thing I knew was that Korra & Asami get together lol. Anyway my point is I knew what was coming overall.

Season 1: My personal favorite, I think it’s a really strong stand alone season. I thought it was really smart to begin the series in the water tribe again, as well as with Katara as that’s how ATLA started. I also think its really clever that with Aang, he was very spiritual and a master airbender already, but needed to learn the other 3 element. Korra is the opposite. It helps it not be so repetitive. We already saw one avatar working to master fire, water, and earth. I also realized how used to the world of atla I was and was confused for a split second how Mako and Bolin were brothers but one was an earthbender and one was a firebender... Yeah I know I’m dumb and I forgot that its a different world lol. -Another strong point was that no matter how in danger Korra got in season 1 she never went into the avatar state, because as she says in what ep 1? that she has never been good at the spiritual side of being the avatar. Part of me kept expecting it to happen, but even the final showdown with Amon it didn’t so I was like oh damn. The finale when she does go into the avatar state with Aang giving her the bending she lost back.... I was a wreck. Sobbing my eyes out it just HIT ME. -Other moments that hit me hard: Hearing Dante Basco’s voice as General Iroh ow my soul, Hearing through Katara that Sokka is dead, The flashbacks to the trial of the bloodbender (forgot his name??) and seeing them get bloodbent HURTS MY HEART. And every time Aang’s statue was shown. ;-; Also, just like ATLA there isn’t a main character that I dislike. I genuinely like Korra, Asami, Mako, & Bolin as a team. Lin is my favorite which not hard being Toph’s daughter lol. Tenzin and fam are a delight (though Meelo can get on my nerves but eh) TL:DR SEASON 1 IS GREAT I CAN’T WAIT TO WATCH IT AGAIN!!

Season 2: Alright so. A lot of Spirit World dealings. Unalaq being a GASP evil brother??? LOK has a thing about brothers lol. First with Amon and whathisname, now with Korra’s dad and uncle. Anyway, season 2 I really like too. Yes even the finale. And it’s been a few weeks (maybe months??) since I watched season 2 so the finale is really all that stands out. Other than that I do really like seeing the story of the first avatar. OH MAN AND IROH IN THE SPIRIT WORLD HAD ME ALL SORTS OF LEVELS OF EMOTIONAL. -SO. This was the big spoiler I knew going in, that the past lives of the Avatar are severed from Korra. I know that A LOT of people really don’t like it either. And upon hearing that plot point I didn’t like it as well. But when I sat down and watched the whole series. I actually thought it was the right thing to do. And I didn’t mind it as much as I thought. Korra can no longer call upon the past lives which is sad, but those Avatars still existed. And with Tenzin being so prevalent in the show, it really feels like Aang is still there in spirit. The reason I thought it was the right thing to do with the story, is that it let’s the show as a whole exist on it’s own. IDK how to properly explain.. I get why people don’t like it, but it makes sense to me. -And I do commend the show runners for sticking to this. There is no getting contact back with the past lives. Which, personally I approve of. Whenever you do something world altering like that it annoys me when the show takes it back. My main gripe is people dying but wAIT NO THEY’RE ALIVE!!! It lessens the stakes. And I think a through line of Korra is that actions have consequences. TL;DR I LIKE SEASON 2 AS WELL. DOESN’T LEAVE A LASTING IMPRESSION SINCE THE FINALE IS SUCH A BIG DEAL.

Season 3: I THINK this would be my second favorite season. I REALLY like Zaheer as I guess the ~big bad~ and the squad he has. SO much so that I’m actually upset that they all are dead by the end. I think P’Li is done the dirtiest. You see and know very little about her until an ~exposition~ line a few scenes before she dies. (But damn if the scene of Su throwing her metal breastplate around her head isn’t hardcore cool. I haven’t said yet but the fight sequences in Korra??? Amazing.) Bolin finding out he can Lavabend??? oh hell yeah that’s the good shit, same with lavabending in GENERAL. seeing what people can REALLY do with their bending is probably my favorite part about Korra. I do think Zaheer looks a little silly when he starts flying around, but hey that part is cool too. Also easily the most horrified I’ve been watching this show was the pulling the aiR OUT OF SOMEONE. JESUS. Up until that point Airbending still seemed like the least dangerous form but HOLY SHIT. I will say that the way Kuvira is if not introduced/ we’re reminded about her in the finale is a little bit more like “uhhh is Korra’s dad going to have an affair???” to me than “she gonna be the big bad next season” Also on IMDB the finale of season 3 is the highest rated finale.

Season 4: Even thought this has the same number of episodes as season 3, it feels the most rushed to me. However I do appreciate the timejump and GODTDAMN I love me some old lady Toph. I also like that Toph says that she’s watching Su & Lin through the swamp, an episode or two later Su and Zaofu are attacked and captured, and when Lin, Opal, and Bolin go to Zaofu to try and rescue, Toph is there. It’s a nice payoff. As Su was getting captured I was thinking “hmmmm does Toph see this” And she does, which has her leave the swamp, so she’s not there when Kuvira’s army is cutting vines. Because cmon is Toph was there she woulda kicked their asses. -The huge mecha suit with the spirit weapon on it is HARROWING. I like that Baatar Jr. see’s that Kuvira was gonna kill him for thE gREatER gOOD and was instantly like “oh shit well i guess my loyalties were wrong then ok” Oh and out of order but I had a feeling that Zhu Li was telling Kuvira what she wanted to hear to be sneaky and I was v happy to be proven right by Toph. I ALSO like that things like Toph being able to tell if people are lying aren’t forgotten about. Also... Cried like a baby at Zhu Li and Varrick’s wedding. Haven’t mentioned Varrick yet but hot damn if he isn’t one of my favorite characters. What I wouldn’t GIVE to have Sokka and Varrick brainstorm some truly crazy shit. 10/10. TL;DR SEASON 3 IS REALLY GOOD AND SEASON 4 IS GOOD BUT FEELS LIKE IT’S TOO SHORT.

But yeah. Overall I really enjoyed it. I looked through the episodes on IMDB and nearly everything is above 8.5 except for some of the first episodes in season 2 which I get. I can tell that this is by the same team that did ATLA. It feels so much the same. And I think there was the right amount of the original peeps or their kids but still was focusing on our core four. Other little things:

- I like that the “villains” or ig the conflicts of people weren’t anyone from the Fire Nation. (Although do we know where Zaheer is from??? Family lineage?) Well regardless, what we have is Amon: Waterbender, Unalaq: Waterbender, Zaheer: Airbender, Kuvira: Earthbender. ATLA we were fighting the fire nation, LOK has the range lol. - I do wish we could have been in the Fire Nation tho. I wanna see what’s it like over there :( - Adored seeing all the changes to the world. In ATLA we see the blimps/airships more or less being invented and then 70 years later AIRSHIPS AND CARS GALORE. And having radios/phones VERY nice. Don’t have to rely on letters or talking in person. - I really like Korra. I feel like it needs to be said lol, but I thoroughly enjoyed her as the Avatar (maybe more than Aang??) - Zuko’s face after Korra says she talked to Iroh in the spirit world I’m not crying you are.

ANYWAY. I think that’s it. I just needed to get it all out somewhere. Not a perfect show (neither is atla) but damn if it isn’t some of the best TV out there. If you read all of that woW good job.

#madebycoffee speaks #not gonna tag this as the show lol #so #non sims #nonsims #also seester i think you would like it

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