#I saved a speed paint of this on Youtube and you can clearly see I kept editing Steven worse and worse. 😵

[screwpinecaprice]

Reposting a connverse I made in 2021. Well, specifically posting this again after editing a few stuff.

I had been so bothered with how I kept editing Steven until I made his silhouette floppy-looking. So I fixed it a bit.

And that this was suppose to be flipped in the first place (which was why Connie's nose piercing was on the right side on the original.)

#I think I chose to keep it flipped then because I recognized Connie's silhouette was much stronger and sometimes I wanted my stronger parts #on the left side of the image. #connverse #Steven Quartz Universe #Connie Maheswaran #SU #my shiz #repostober #I'll be deleting my uploads for repostober by the end of the year except this one. #Editing it despite me saying I am not going to do anything two years ago. #I saved a speed paint of this on Youtube and you can clearly see I kept editing Steven worse and worse. 😵 #I got his legs fixxed into a better stance at least. #What I specifically had a problem now is Steven's arm and jacket. #Like I think I can make his torso look more sturdy. #But I don't wanna dwell on it too much. #Steven Universe #Eugh this was suppose to be a scheduled post. and it just disappeared while editing it. I'm guessing I accidentally pressed the 'post now' #button? #teal

[freindly-neighbourhood-anarchist]

🎰🍷dancing with him at a ball🍷🎰

🍷☾︎𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐒𝐌𝐏 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫☽︎🍷

Art by: Inozuart

Go and check out their speed paint they did of this beautiful art on youtube!

🍷☾︎𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 : 𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐛𝐮𝐫, 𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐲🍷

𝐀/𝐍: Highkey simping over the TNT duo right now, ngl. Quackity is just getting better and better- Definitely gonna do these prompts with Ranboo, Tubbo and Tommy. I just think that it would be really cute to dance with them at a ball lol

____________________________________________

                             ☠︎︎☾︎ʀᴇᴠɪᴠᴇʙᴜʀ☽︎☠︎︎

To say it was strange to see Wilbur Soot standing near a bar and drinking a glass full of blood-red wine would be a complete understatement.

(Y/n) had never spoken to him fully before, they more so made a lot of conversation they could build off of but neither decided to go through with it. (Y/n) hung around Alex, George, Sapnap and Karl more so than the rest of the SMP.

Hence why she was forced to go to this god forbidden ball.

She sat at a stool near the corner of the huge ballroom, her body wrapped in a tight and mildly uncomfortable maroon coloured dress.

'End me.' She thought mindlessly as she took another large swig of tequila, watching everyone dance around and laugh with eachother.

George, Sapnap and Karl weren't invited to the ball, she noted.

She had heard that they weren't on good terms with Quackity as of late, and he was the one who threw this ball.

She may have been lonely at this ball, but she felt as though eyes were on her at all times. It was weird. Very weird.

Every once in a while, her eyes would land on Wilbur's tall form. He seemed lonely as well, a bored and unamused expression on his stitched face.

His eyes were kept still on Tommy who was dancing around with Tubbo and Ranboo, who both had large grins on their faces.

(Y/n) found it cute that even after dying and coming back, Wilbur still held a sort of fondness towards Tommy.

She doesn't blame him, Tommy was a good kid.

A kid that's been through too much.

The girl frowned deeply and took another shot of tequila. And just like that, the eyes were on her again. Her eyes shot from her tequila that she was swirling to Wilbur, eyes widening slightly when they met with his harsh brown eyes.

He kept eye contact, eyebrows raising slightly at her in interest before he sent her a small smile, a fake one. (Y/n) could tell it was fake from a mile away. It was one of those smiles that you give strangers as they walk passed you on a sidewalk.

Huffing out a condescending chuckle, the girl rolled her eyes at him and shook her head, drinking the last of her tequila and went back to watching everyone dance.

The action clearly stirred more curosity within him, because all of a sudden he felt himself walk over to her with a wine bottle in hand and two wine glasses in the other.

(Y/n) was snapped from her daze when she heard someone clear their throat from beside her. Her head snapped up and met with his dead-cold eyes again.

There was silence before she spoke up, her tone sharp yet inviting," Can I help you, sir?" She spoke mockingly, eyebrow raised.

Eyes swirling with amusment, the man tilted his head to the side, his white tuft of hair following with the motion along with the rest of his curly, brown locks." Mind if I sit here, ma'am?" He replied with a smiliar mocking undertone to his voice.

Clicking her tongue a little, she nodded her head to the chair on her left lazily," Knock yourself out." She droned out, frowning at the sight of her empty glass.

She was too lazy to go to the bar.

'Guess I'll die.' She thought.

"You a wine girl?" Wilbur hummed out curiously, hoping to God she'd say yes otherwise he brought another glass over for no reason and probably looked like a dumbass now-

"I'm an,' anything with alcohol in it' kind of girl." She reassured him.

'Thank fuck.' He hid his relief with sly smile," Ah, a woman after my own heart." He flirted, pouring out a glass of wine for both her and him.

She 'tched' and took the glass," You have a heart? Pfft." She grumbled, taking a long sip of the wine. The wine burned at the back of her throat before bursting into a wonderful grape flavour mixed with cherry." Mm.. Good wine."

"Very good wine." Wilbur nodded in agreement, a content look on his face.

A comfortble silence sat between them and they both decided to enjoy their wine in peace.

(Y/n) watched as Eret and Fundy joined in with Tommy, Tubbo and Ranboo. They looked like good friends dancing together. Reminded the girl of how her friendship was with George, Sapnap, Karl and Alex.

Now? It's just her.

She tried to keep the friendship from falling apart, but then Kinoko Kingdom happened and everything went to utter shit.

Las Nevadas, it was wonderful. Paradise. But it wasn't for (Y/n).

So when Quackity had asked if she wanted to join him, she refused respectfully but still said she was willing to help him with whatever he needed at all.

He was flattered, but disappointed at how she had decided against joining Las Nevadas.

She always wonders how her life would've turned out if she had accepted the invite.

"You want to dance?" The question was sudden.

When she looked up at him to see if he was joking, she was surprised to see how serious yet calm his expression was.

Raising an eyebrow, she swirled the wine in her glass and crossed her legs over one another," I'm not very good at dancing."

"And you think I am?"

She gave him a confused look," Aren't you? You look like the kinda guy that would be brilliant at ballroom dancing." She hummed out.

He chuckled raspily, eyes soft," I'm flattered, but trust me, I'm no better at dancing than Tommy." He assured her.

She looked him up and down, unconvinced before she sighed a little, giving in. She was too tired to argue at this point.

She stood up from her chair abruptly, even surprising Wilbur at the fact she had agreed. Giving him a stern yet soft look, she nodded," Let's dance then, Frankenstein."

Then she made her way to the dance floor, making Wilbur scramble from his chair with an eager grin.

They stood facing eachother before Wilbur held his hand to her, a grin tilting onto his lips," May I compliment you on your appearance this evening? You are among the brightest of flowers." He spoke with suave.

The girl blushed and she took his hand quickly, squeezing it a little." No need to flatter me, Wilbur. I am very well aware my dress is rather ugly this evening." She grumbled out grouchily.

He stared directly into her eyes,"Your dress? I hadn't noticed it." He said smoothly, his eyes never left hers," I'm sure it looks amazing on you."

The music began, saving (Y/n) from having to answer. The hand on her waist was firm and soft, almost like it was keeping her safe.

They stepped in line with eachother, (Y/n) messed up every once in a while and managed to step on her own feet and Wilbur's the first couple of minutes before she finally got into the swing of things.

Glaring up at him, she pouted," You liar."

He grinned cheekily at her," Hm? I don't believe I know what you're talking about."

" Whatever you say, Mr. I'm worse than Tommy at dancing." She rolled her eyes.

"I never said I was worse than him. Honestly, anyone can be better than him at dancing. Let's face it."

For the first time that whole night, a small and genuine smile broke out across the girl's lips. Wilbur was enamoured by how her whole face lit up just by the slight tilt of her lips.

She looked beautiful.

"Leave Tommy alone, the kid tries his best." She smiled out.

"He does." He nodded earnestly, a little smile on his lips," I don't deserve him."

"You don't." (Y/n) spoke rather bluntly, but she still had a soft smile on her lips as she spoke her next words," but as much as he doesn't want to admit it, the kid needs you a lot. You're his big brother." She looked at the blonde-haired teen who was laughing at Ranboo who had spilled juice over Tubbo by accident. Her smile widened and her eyes were warm,"... you might just be the luckiest man in the world."

His breath was stolen from him at her words, and he couldnt help but agree with her due to the current circumstances.".... yeah... you could say that."

He held her closer to him by the waist, holding her other hand tightly and securly." So... Where did you learn to dance, Frankenstein?" She teased him, eyes bright with mischief.

A little laugh slipped through his lips," is this the nickname you'll be sticking to now?"

"You know it."

"Oh, great." He sighed out half-disappointedly before he decided to answer her question." When I was younger, my mother used to give me a lot of dance lessons with Technoblade. I requested them because I wanted to learn how to dance for this mermaid girl I had come to befriend."

"Oooh~" the girl raised her eyebrows suggestively," You're pretty romantic when you want to be, you know that?"

He shrugged, cheeks tinted a light pink that was barely noticable," the first time I'm hearing this." He admitted.

"Well... Frankenstein, you're pretty goddamn romantic when you want to be."

He grinned slyly," so you find me romantic, huh? Is that a sign for anything in particular, orrr?..."

The girl snorted a little," Hm? I don't believe I know what you're talking about." She repeated his own words.

He laughed," Touché, touché. You win this round."

Soon, the dance came to an end and the two were left still in eachother's arms, staring at eachother with enamoured looks on their faces.

Then the girl smiled at him," it wouldn't be bold of me to ask for another dance... Would it?" She requested, hope swirling in her gemstone-like irises.

"Not at all," A genuinely happy and charmed grin curled on his lips at her words and he held her body still," thought you would never ask, (Y/n)."

____________________________________________

⚠︎🎰 ༄𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐲༄🎰⚠︎

(Y/n) hadn't intended to be attending Quackity's party, in fact, she wasn't supposed to be attending.

She wasnt invited.

Supposing this is what she gets for not going along with Alex's whole 'Las Nevadas' gig. She prompted to stay with her friends in Kinoko Kingdom instead, thinking that Quackity wouldve done the same.

But she thought wrong.

So, so incredibly wrong.

You see, have you ever felt the feeling whenever you grow so incredibly close to someone to the point where you think you know them better than anyone else? That's how (Y/n) had felt with Alex. She was so sure that he wouldve chosen her and his friends over some nation that seemed to be setting itself up as a land of secrets and mystery.

From what she's heard, Quackity only grew all the more mysterious and distant.

He was so distant.

(Y/n) couldnt remember the last time she had seen him. The last time she's had a decent conversation.

The last time her heart fluttered around him.

She missed him, truly she did. Sometimes she debated abandoning Kinoko Kingdom in favour of running into Alex's oh-so-welcoming arms.

But her morals told her otherwise. She chose, for once in her life, to not follow her heart. But now, here she was, completely going against what her close friends had told her not to do.

She was being drawn to him again.

Using her heart to make important decisions.

And as she opened the large doors to the ballroom, all time seemed to freeze around her. Eyes shot towards her in curiosity, some with joy at being able to see her again and some with malice.

Alex was no different to the latter.

As soon as his dark eyes had met with her ethereal gemstone-like ones, he felt a buzz of electricity travel up his spine.

He couldnt diferientiate between the feeling of anger and slight awe at her beauty.

The girl fumbled with her fingers awkwardly before she sent him a shy wave, her smile soft-yet panicked as her eyes scanned over his new features.

He looked so different.

And she couldn't tell if it was the good kind of different or not.

At her shy wave, Alex cleared his throat and nodded respectfully as a goodbye to who he was talking to, which thankfully was Sam, and then he began making his way over to (Y/n).

A scowl curled onto his lips, his eyes darker than ever.

The eyes that made her feel warm and safe now froze her down to her very core.

When he was right up to her face, standing in front of her, that's when she knew--

This wasn't the Alex she had fallen in love with.

"What the hell are you doing here..." he muttered lowly to her, he grabbed her bare arm tightly- but it wasnt tight enough to hurt her, surprisingly. Then he dragged her to the exit, shoving her rather roughly outside, shitting the door behind him.

"We-well I-... If I-I'm being completely honest, I didnt exactly have a plan to come here, I just really wanted to see y-" he interrupted her.

"You didnt have a plan?? (Y/n)-- What the actual fuck makes you think I'd ever want you here?!" He was furious, eyes burning a bright fire, a fire even Sapnap couldnt withstand. " I actually cant believe you thought coming here would be a good idea. Are you actually as dumb as you were when we were still talking to eachother? You havent fucking changed."

She flinched at his harsh words but she covered up how hurt she was," Well- if you would let me explain myself, then maybe you'd understand why I'm here."

The casino owner took off his beanie, running a hand through his messy raven locks in frustration before he settled the hat back on his head," Make this damn quick. Because, in case you havent noticed, I have guests to entertain."

Gulping, the girl but her lip nervously out of habit," I know... I know I'm the last person you want to see. I know you hate my guts. But... Alex, I genuinely miss you." She spoke sincerely, eyes glassy beneath the moonlight," when I heard you were throwing this party... I couldnt help myself. I needed to see you... to hear you... to talk. God-- Just listening to you makes me so happy already." Her lip trembled," So please... let me hear you... let me see you. I'm begging... can we please talk?"

Brushing off the rush of heat that crossed his tanned cheeks, Alex looked away from her stubbornly.

He didnt want to give in easily.

But when it came to her, he was always put under a spell.

"Lo que sea.... fine." He sighed out, running a hand over his face in irritation, wincing whenever his fingers brushed over his scar." Come sit over here." He gestured to a bench that sat next to a long river that went off into the ocean, the moon reflected off of the clear water as did the stars.

The two sat next to eachother, the gap between them representing how distant they are from eachother.

"So? Talk." He prompted her, leaning back into the bench rather lazily, looking up at the sky.

Cheeks warming with happiness, she couldnt help but smile at finally being able to talk to him after so long," Thank you so much... I've been wanting to talk to you for so long after everything that happen-... What happened to your eye?" She whispered, suddenly noticing the long scar that ran over his eye and eyelid and then down to his lips.

"Oh yeah- you werent here for that," he jabbed at her," This was all Techno's doing." He gestured all over." Sorry that I'm not the perfect guy that you used to be friends with anymore."

She knew he wasnt sorry.

In fact, she knew that with his new self, he was a lot more confident.

Free.

She liked that.

Smiling at him, she shook her head," dont be silly. If this change makes you happy, then I'm happy."

His heart thumped harshly, making him clear his throat to cover up the noise in case she had heard his loud heart.

"I was just worried but... it looks kind of good on you-- err... not in a weird way or anything." She tried to cover up her slip-up," Anyways... that's not what I came here to talk abou-"

"Do you wanna dance?"

The girl's eyes widened at the sudden suggestion, gazing over Alex's features with shock. His tanned cheeks were red and he was avoiding all eye contact, eyebrows furrowed.

"... come again?" She stuttered out, her throat felt like it was closing up.

He scoffed and rolled his eyes," I asked if you wanted to dance."

The girl's heart did flips in her ribcage as her eyes fluttered,"I-... I would love to." She nodded, wobbly smile on her painted lips.

The man stood from the bench and held a hand out to her, trying his best to not smile when she eagerly grabbed it, stars in her eyes.

He moved her soft hand to his neck, making it rest there, (Y/n) then moved her other arm to wrap around his neck as well. Alex then settled his calloused hands on her pretty waist, pulling her body close to him.

He was afraid she would slip away from him again.

In truth, he had missed a hell of a lot as well, maybe even more so than she missed him.

He always debated visiting her or arranging to meet up with her, but his plans always got in the way and blurred his desire for her.

But seeing her tonight, all dressed up for him, it made him want to fall in love with her all over again.

The two swung side to side, the faint music from the ballroom guiding the two of them. Quackity rested his chin on top of her head as the girl turned her head to the side, resting her ear against his chest and listening to his thumping heartbeat.

"You look amazing." He muttered to her.

"You too... well... yeah, no you look amazing."

He chuckled lightly," why'd you hesitate?"

"Well... I wanted to think of a better word for amazing but my heart is beating too loudly for me to think properly..." she admitted.

At her heartfelt confession, Alex felt himself smile warmly for once in a long time.

He felt like a teenager in love again.

"Yeah... I feel that too." He muttered, inhaling the scent of her vanilla shampoo, biting off the dreamy sigh that threatened to spill from his lips." (Y/n)... why didnt you join me? "

The dreaded question.

"If I'm being honest... I thought you wouldve joined Kinoko Kingdom with me."

Quackity's heart clenched at the thought.

So she felt just as betrayed as he did, that makes sense to him now.

"I debated going to join Las Nevadas everyday, but I knew that meant leaving George, Sap and Karl and I felt so conflicted and just... horrible." She mumbled, feeling her eyes beginning to water," It was hard, Alex.... I wanted to see you so so bad... But I also wanted to be a good friend... I felt like I was the bad guy either way, and I just wanted to make both parties happy.... I hated being away from you... God... I hated it so much." She sniffled, making Alex pull her closer to him," seeing you now... you dont understand how happy it makes me feel..."

The man sighed a little and kissed leaned away from her, cupping her cheek and then moving it so she was face him. He tilted her head up a little so he could see her teary eyes, feeling his heart call out to her to comfort her.

He ran a thumb over her cheek, wiping away the mascara and tears and when she blinked up at him innocently, he couldnt stop himself from smiling down at her reassuringly.

"I wanted to see you so much as well... I felt my heart ache every night to see you..." he began, pressing his forehead against hers," I'm sorry for treating you like shit... you deserve so much damn better... (Y/n), I'm begging. Please stay with me, will you?"

Her breath hitched.

"Stay by my side... please?"

Her heart stopped.

"I want to be with you all the time."

Her tears stopped falling.

"I love you."

And she smiled, wider than she ever has.

"I've been waiting so long to hear that..." She whispered to him," I love you too, Alex."

He grinned down at her crookedly," Deadass?"

"On god."

"Fuck- I'm not dreaming, right?" He then had a mischievous glint twinkle in his dark eyes," Maybe you should kiss me to seal the deal?"

She snorted," you're asking me to initiate it? Dont you think you're moving a bit fast, lover boy?"

"I think you're moving too slow and that you talk too much." He stated simply before he leaned down, capturing her soft lips in a messy kiss, their lips molding together as soon as they came in contact.

It's the kind of kiss that inspires stars to climb into the sky and light up the world.

His hands flattened against her back... and she was up on the tips of her toes, kissing him as fiercely as he was kissing her... He clung to her more tightly, knotting his hands in her hair, trying to tell her, with the press of his mouth on hers, all the things he could never say out loud...

And as her lips rubbed against his chapped ones, she knew her life was set with his, nobody else.

#dream smp x reader #dream smp x you #quackity x reader #TNT duo x reader #tnt duo #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot x reader #quackity x y/n #quackity x you #wilbur soot x you #revivebur x reader #revivebur x you #revivebur x y/n

[inkinmyheartandonthepage]

Coming Home

AU – Peter Stark was kidnapped when he was just three years old. Tony and Pepper never stopped looking for their boy. Years later, Peter finds his way back home.

You can find it here on AO3

Part One

Tony Stark smiled as he felt warm arms slip around his neck, petite hands settling over his heart and arc-reactor.

“What are you looking at?” Pepper hummed in his ear.

“Just viewing the latest YouTube clip of the Spiderling vigilante,” Tony said, eyes never leaving the Stark Tablet in his hands.

“What has he done this time?” Pepper asked.

“On today’s vigilante swing,” Tony tapped at the screen, pressing play on the video. “He rescued a stray dog about to be hit by a car.”

Pepper watched as the blue and red figure swung down in the front of a car, the horn blaring loudly, and scooped the dog up with his free arm, just before the car came speeding past. The one they were calling Spider-Man landed lightly on the sidewalk, putting the dog down safely. She watched as the blue and red vigilante patted the dogs head before he was shooting a web at the nearest building and swinging away.

“Amazing,” Pepper said softly.

“That tensile strength of that webbing is off the charts,” Tony shook his head lightly. “I wonder if they’re the manufacturer of it or if they’re getting it from somewhere else.”

Pepper placed a kiss on her husband’s cheek. “You could ask him.”

“I’m going to have to,” Tony sighed.

“What do you mean?” Pepper asked.

“Fury wants to know who this guy is,” Tony said. “He’s starting to make a big name for himself and you know Fury, he likes to know everything about everyone. Especially when they are enhanced like the Spiderling appears to be.”

“He saved a dog from being hit by a car,” Pepper pointed out. “I don’t think he’s dangerous.”

“Fury thinks he could be Avenger material,” Tony switched the tablet to sleep mode and settled back into his wife’s embrace. “I disagree solely on the onesie he’s wearing.”

Pepper chuckled. The suit the vigilante was clearly a handmade costume. Whoever the vigilante was, they were obviously on a budget.

“Boss, the FBI are calling,” FRIDAY’s voice filtered through the workshop.

Pepper frowned, pulling back from Tony’s shoulder’s, allowing her husband to spin around on her stool. She raised a brow at his confused expression. “What did you do now?”

Tony scoffed. “I didn’t do anything. How do I know they’re not calling about you?”

Pepper smirked. “Because I would never get caught.”

Tony mirrored her smirk, sneaking an arm around her waist. “Patch them through FRIDAY.”

“Mr Stark. This is Agent Williamson from the FBI.”

Both Pepper and Tony froze as the man introduced himself. The name was one they knew well but had not been one they were expecting to hear from for another few months.

“What can I do for you, Agent Williamson?” Tony asked, arms tightening around his wife’s waist, his voice steadily controlled.

“Mr Stark, my apologies for calling so early,” Agent Williamson said.

“It’s fine,” Tony said. “What can I do for you?”

“My office was alerted when a fingerprint was run through our system yesterday,” Agent Williamson said, always getting straight to the point. “Mr. Stark, the fingerprint was a match to your sons, Peter Stark.”

Pepper’s hands flew to her mouth, Tony’s tight grip on her waist the only thing keeping her upright. She locked eyes with her husband, watching as the blood drained from his face and his lips became a thin line.

Eleven years ago, while Tony had been kidnapped and trapped in a cave by a group of terrorists for three months, Pepper had been left alone with their three-year-old son Peter. To her horror and devastation, Peter had been taken in the dead of the night. While Rhodey searched for her husband, Pepper and Happy had worked with the FBI to find their son.

Tony had been returned to her, harmed, injured but alive but they had never found Peter. As it came to light that it had been Obadiah who had been the one to orchestrate Tony’s kidnapping and Peter’s, the man had never given up their son’s location before he died. They had poured over Stane’s files, but the man hadn’t left a trace. That had not stopped Pepper and Tony from using all their available resources into finding their son, including SHEILD but they had never uncovered where he was.  

“Are you positive?” Tony managed to choke out.

“We brought in the boy for some questioning last night and to run a blood sample against the one you provided us,” Agent Williamson said.  “Are you available to come to the FBI?”

“We’ll be there in ten,” Tony said before he had FRIDAY end the call.

“Peter,” Pepper whispered, tears spilling down her cheeks. “Tony.”

Tony buried his face in Pepper’s stomach, clutching her tightly. He took a few steadying breaths, trying to get his thoughts in order but he couldn’t get past the constant stream that they had found his son. Pepper’s fingers found their way into his hair, gently brushing through the strands. He shuddered, pulling back and swallowing hard. He stood, gently cupping his wife’s face and wiped away her tears. He kissed her forehead before pulling back.

“You get the picture of Peter and I’ll get Happy to meet us out the front,” Tony said.

Pepper nodded, almost frantically, before she spun on her heels and left the room.

Tony swayed as she left, his heart clenching painfully. He took a few uneven breaths before he ran a hand down his face. “FRIDAY, call Happy and get his ass out the front.”

*

Peter Parker’s legs bounced as he took in the small waiting room. He sat in one of the comfy chairs that was provided, leg bouncing as he waited. There was a tall plastic smelling plant in the room and a painting hung on the wall. A table sat across one of the walls, refreshments available if he wished for one.

He didn’t, his stomach twisting with nerves.

He and May had been on their way home after eating at their favourite Thai restaurant when they had been stopped at the front of their apartment. By the FBI. They had offered no explanation other than they needed to come down to the FBI to sought something out and if they didn’t cooperate, they would be arrested.

Peter’s first thought was that they had found out about his alter-ego, Spider-Man. On the car ride there May had tried to get them to answer why they were being detained but they had not said a word. When they arrived, Peter and May had been separated and he hadn’t seen his Aunt since.

The door opened to the waiting room and Peter straightened, eyeing the sharply dressed man who entered.

“Peter? I’m Agent Williamson,” the man introduced himself with an easy smile. “My apologies for keeping you waiting.” He crossed the room, taking a seat near Peter.

“I’m Peter Parker,” Peter introduced and then winced. The FBI most likely knew who he was since they had been waiting for him and May. “Where’s my Aunt?”

“Your Aunt is answering a few questions for us,” Williamson said.  

“What kind of questions?” Peter swallowed.

“May Parker is helping us clear up a few things for us,” Williamson smiled. “You aren’t in any trouble, Peter.”

“Oh,” Peter blinked. “Okay. That’s good. I mean – I hadn’t done anything to warrant being in trouble.”

“I know you haven’t,” Williamson said. “Peter, are you up to answering a few questions for me?”

“Um, yes, I guess so,” Peter shrugged. “What do you need to know?”

“Great,” Williamson smiled. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees and his hands clasped together. “How long have you been living with May Parker?”

Peter blinked, brows contracting together. “My aunt? Ummm, since I was six or seven. She and my Uncle Ben took me in when my mum and dad died.”

Williamson nodded. “Your uncle passed away recently, didn’t he?”

Peter looked down at his hands, watching his fingers twist together. “Yeah, about six months ago. He was – um – he was shot by a mugger.”

“You were there?” Williamson asked gently.

Peter nodded; his throat tight. “I – we were coming home. Uncle Ben had taken me out for ice-cream to celebrate an A I got in my chemistry class.” He took a shaky breath, his nose starting to sting. “We were just walking home.”

“I’m sorry for your loss, Peter,” Williamson said.

Peter nodded. “Thank you.” He looked back up at the FBI agent. “Umm – the police took my statement months ago. Why are you asking about Ben?”

Williamson didn’t answer his question. “What do you remember about your parents?”

Peter frowned. He was beginning to think that maybe this had nothing to do with his alter-ego. “My parents?”

“Richard and Mary Parker,” Agent Williamson prompted. “What do you remember about them?”

“I know they were scientists,” Peter said slowly. “I don’t know what kind though. I remember my dad doing experiments with me. You know, stuff with magnets and dropping Mentos in coke. I – I don’t remember a lot about them.”

“Did Ben and May ever tell you stories about them?” Williamson asked.

“Uncle Ben was my dad’s brother,” Peter said. “He would tell me stories about them growing up. Uncle Ben told me about how my dad met my mum at a convention. They would travel a lot for their work. That’s how they died. They were heading out on a business trip and their plane crashed.”

“And you were staying with May and Ben Parker at the time,” Williamson said.

“Agent Williamson? What is this all about?” Peter asked. “Why are you asking me questions about my parents?”

“Peter,” Williamson's voice was gentle but controlled. “You had a police officer come to your school today, correct? For careers day?”

Peter blinked at the rapid change in conversation. “Yes.”

“And he went through the process of his job,” Williamson continued.

Peter nodded.

“He also went through the process of fingerprinting and how each one is unique. He even let your class participate in fingerprinting,” Williamson said.

“Were you there too?” Peter blurted out, confounded as to how the agent was detailing the officer’s presentation exactly. He didn’t remember seeing the agent there at all.

“No,” Williamson chuckled. “I spoke with that officer earlier today.”

“How come?” Peter asked.

“The officer put your class’s prints through our database to demonstrate how we use prints to find a person's identity,” Williamson explained. “When he did this, we were sent an alert when your prints showed up in our system.”

Peter swallowed. They knew. They knew that he was Spider-Man. Peter was sure that he had always worn his gloves when he was out patrolling but maybe he had slipped up and left his prints at a crime scene. Oh god he was going to be arrested.

“Oh?” Peter squeaked out.

“Peter, what I am about to tell you will be a shock,” Williamson said seriously. “But we are here to help you. Okay?”

Peter couldn’t speak and stared at the agent, willing his heart to stop racing in his chest. They were going to arrest him. They were going to take away his homemade suit and throw him in jail all because he was trying to help.

“Peter, your prints were in our system because we’ve been looking for you since you were a baby,” Williamson said.

Peter opened his mouth to defend that he wasn’t Spider-Man when the Agent’s words kicked in. “Wait – looking for me?”

“Peter, Richard and Mary Parker were not your parents,” Williamson said. “Your last name isn’t Parker.”

  *

May Parker straightened as the door to the interrogation room was opened. A female agent, dressed in an expensive looking back pant suit stepped into the room, the door clicking behind her. She looked around the same age as May, blonde hair pulled back into a severe looking ponytail. Strictly business.

“Where is Peter?” May demanded.

“Peter is safe,” the agent said, taking a seat on the opposite side of the table. “I’m Agent Harper. I need to ask you some questions about Peter.”

“Is he okay?” May swallowed. “Is he in some kind of trouble?”

“He’s fine and not in any trouble,” Harper said, flipping open a file she had placed on the table. “You are Peter’s current guardian, correct?”

May placed her hands on the table, shifting in her seat. “Yes. My husband and I took in our nephew when he was six. His parents were killed in a plane crash.”

Harper nodded. “You were not related to Richard or Mary Parker, were you?”

“Only by marriage,” May pushed her glasses up her nose. “Ben was Richard’s brother.”

“Ben passed away recently, correct?” Harper asked.

May swallowed around the tight lump in her throat. “Yes. Six months ago. He was killed in a mugging. Peter was there with him.” She inhaled shakily. “The police talked to him about this already. They took his statement.”

“I have the report here,” Harper tapped the file with her pen.

“Then why did you ask me about it?” May snapped. She took another shaky breath. “What is this all about?”

“You continued to care for Peter, even after your husband’s death?” Harper asked, ignoring May’s outburst.

“Of course,” May huffed. “Peter’s family. My family. I would never abandon him.”

“Were you there for the birth of Peter?” Harper asked.

May blinked at the left fielded question.  “What?”

“Were you present when Mary Parker gave birth to Peter?” Harper repeated.

“I – no. No, neither Ben nor I were there,” May hesitated.

Harper nodded, making a note. “When did you first meet, Peter?”

Something churned uncomfortably in May’s stomach. “Three. Peter was three years old when Richard and Mary first introduced us to him.”

“Why so old?” Harper asked, cocking her head to the side. “Your first and only nephew and you only met him when he was three?”

“Mary and Richard weren’t living in Queens,” May argued. “They were away on business. Ben and I didn’t hear from them much – a phone call once a month was the most contact Ben had.”

“How well did you know the Parker’s?” Harper asked.

“Not very well,” May admitted. “They were always travelling for business and after Ben and I got married they had accepted a job across the country. They came back after three years and that’s when we learnt of Peter.”

“You didn’t question why they hadn’t told you about their first-born child?” Harper asked.

“Well, it was a little weird,” May agreed. “But Ben and Richard weren’t super close. Ben felt he could never live up to Richard’s expectations. He was a scientist and Ben wasn’t. Once we met Peter, we got swept up in him. He was adorable. Still is.”

“Did you often spend time with Peter before his parents were killed?” Harper made another note.

“We would babysit Peter when Mary and Richard were travelling for business,” May said. “Ben hoped it would bring him and Richard closer together and we adored Peter, so it was no trouble to us.”

“How long would he stay with you?” Harper asked.

“A week at a time, sometimes a little longer,” May bit her bottom lip. “What is this all about? Where is Peter?”

“When you were looking after Peter, did Mary or Richard Parker ever give you instructions?” Harper asked.

“Instructions?” May repeated blandly. “Like don’t let him eat the Lego pieces?”

Harper cracked a small smile. “No. Like if he was injured, don’t take him to the hospital? Did they ever tell you not to take him to certain places?”

“Not to me, no,” May shook her head.  

“Did they give Ben these instructions?” Harper asked.

May sucked in a breath. “I – I don’t know.”

Harper caught the stutter and her mouth tightened. “But Ben knew something?”

“Peter has asthma,” May swallowed, her voice shaky. “Ben always picked up his inhaler from the same place.”

“Where?” Harper demanded.

“Some chemist. I’m – I’m not sure. He always picked up a script before Peter ran out. Since – since Ben died, we haven’t needed to get one,” May rubbed her chest with a frown. “I’m not sure where Ben got the script from.”

Harper scribbled notes quickly. “You never adopted Peter when Mary and Richard passed?”

May shook her head. “We didn’t need to. In their will they named us Peter’s guardian’s.” She stared at the agent across the table from her, something twisting sharply in her chest. “You said Peter wasn’t in trouble. Am I in trouble?”

“You tell me,” Harper said, her voice never losing the tightly controlled sharpness of her tone. “Did you ever question Ben about Peter’s parents?”

“I never saw a reason too,” May insisted. “Peter was never hurt when we babysat. He was healthy, clean, had new clothes and toys. He had no learning disabilities. The opposite, actually. He’s incredibly smart, even when he was young. He was a perfectly happy boy and I had no reason to question anything.”

Harper nodded.

“Why are you asking about Mary and Richard?” May asked.

“May, were you aware that Richard and Mary Parker were not Peter’s biological parents?”

May stared at Agent Harper for a beat. “What the fuck?”

“Am I to take that as a no?” Harper quirked her brow upwards.

“What do you mean Peter isn’t biologically their son?” May demanded.

“Mary Parker never gave birth to Peter,” Harper said.

“So, they adopted him?” May asked. “Is that what this is? Is his biological mother asking for him?”

“Peter's parents have been looking for Peter for eleven years,” Harper said coolly. “Peter was not adopted by Mary and Richard, he was kidnapped.”

May sunk back into her seat, staring wide-eyed at the agent opposite her. She turned over the words in her mind, but she simply couldn’t grasp them long enough to understand.

“May, did you have any idea that Peter wasn’t Richard and Mary’s Parker’s son?” Harper asked.

“No,” May breathed out, blinking dumbly. “They – they kidnapped Peter?”

“We were alerted when Peter’s fingerprints were processed earlier today,” Harper said. “The FBI and his parents have been searching for him since he was taken eleven years ago.”

May covered her mouth with a shaky hand. “Oh my god.”

“Have you ever met a man named Obadiah Stane?” Harper asked.

May shook her head. “No, never. I’ve never heard of him.”

“May, did Ben know about Peter?” Harper asked.

Lowering her hand, May opened her mouth several times before any words came out. “I – I don’t know. He never said – never said anything. Oh my god.”

Closing the file, Harper got to her feet. “Let me get you some water.”

May said nothing as the agent left, her mind reeling. Had she and Ben really been raising someone else’s child? All these years and May had unknowingly kept a mother and father from their child. Had Ben known? Before Richard and Mary – those strangers – told Ben the truth before they died? Or had her husband uncovered the truth and kept it to himself?

Harper returned and May shakily accepted the glass of water, taking a few sips.

“Where is Peter?” May asked.

“He’s being informed of the situation as we speak,” Harper said.

“You’re telling him alone?” May cried. “How could you do that to him? Where is he? I want to see him.”

“You will shortly,” Harper said. “I just have a few more questions.”

*

Peter stared at Agent Williamson; not sure he had heard the man correctly, even with his super hearing. “What?”

“Richard and Mary Parker were not your biological parents,” Williamson explained.

“Oh,” Peter blinked.

When people asked Peter if he missed his parents, he said he did. It was true, but also not true. Peter didn’t remember much of his parents as he had been so young when they had passed away and he remembered they often left on trips. He remembered often staying with Ben and May and never feeling unhappy or scared. He did miss his parents, but mostly he missed the idea of what him and his parents could have been. But May and Ben had raised him, had given him a loving home and he couldn’t have been happier.

“I was adopted?” Peter frowned.

“Unfortunately, not,” Williamson said. “You were kidnapped from your family.”

Peter froze, limbs locking in his seat. “I don’t feel kidnapped. May didn’t – she wouldn’t kidnap me. I’m not even related to her and took me in.” You’re not related to any of them. “She kept me after Ben died. She didn’t have to.”

“Take a breath, Peter,” Williamson coached. “I know this is a lot to take in.”

“A lot to take in?” Peter repeated. “You’re telling me that I was kidnapped! That the people that raised me, gave me a home, weren’t my family at all!” He sunk back in his seat, crossing his arms and shoved his hands under his armpits. “I want to see May.”

“You will, soon,” Williamson said. “We just need to ask her some questions.”

“She didn’t kidnap me,” Peter nose stung with tears. “She wouldn’t do that. They never wanted kids.”

“Who?” Williamson asked.

“May and Ben,” Peter sniffed. “I asked them why I didn’t have a brother or sister once. They said that I was all they needed. They were never planning on having kids. But they took me in when my par- when they died.”

“Okay,” Williamson said. “Maybe they didn’t know.”

“May wouldn’t do that,” Peter said stubbornly. “She wouldn’t.”

“That’s what we need to get to the bottom of,” Williamson said gently.

Peter slumped in his chair as he watched the agent get to his feet.

“I’ll be back in a moment,” Williamson said. “Can I get you any water?”

Peter shook his head and watched as the agent left the room, leaving Peter all alone with nothing but a tight feeling in his chest and wishing that this had all been about Spider-Man.

#irondad #spiderson #peter parker #tony stark #tony stark acting as peter parkers parental figure #Peter Parker is Tony Starks biological son #Kidnapped Peter #ao3 fanfic

[ilovereadingandilovebreathing]

Perfectionism Killed the Prince...

A/N: Sorry for the lack of formatting or a read more; mobile sucks. (Update: finally fixed the stupid formatting #blessed)   

Summary: Even the strongest of princes break when enough pressure is applied, and Roman is certainly no exception. Sometimes, even a prince needs saving, especially if it’s from himself. 

Word Count: 1,853

Genre: A.N.G.S.T.

Characters/Pairings: Roman, Patton, Logan, Virgil (platonic)

Warnings: self-deprecation, self-hatred, perfectionism, yelling, crying, insults, arguing, harm to the skin (not direct self-harm, but like in an abstract way, I think it is.) (let me know if I missed any)

Tags: @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @ssides @pantasticpanini @celiawhatsherlastname @elliottsonthevirge @anxiousoddish @didsomeonesayprince @fandomsofrandom @anxious-but-whatever 

Most days, Roman can keep a straight face. He can slap on a smile, pull out a pun, and come up with a comeback better than anyone.

Most days, Roman can pull on his princely façade, broaden his trademark smile, and continue to push down his insecurities as he always has. They’re just skeletons in the closet, after all. He’ll clean them out, eventually…whether willingly or by necessity.

This day, sadly for Roman, is not like most days. This day, the Sides are in the MindScape Commons, piles of Roman’s ideas spread around and before them as they try to sift out future videos.

“‘Space Adventures: what starts as an educational experience turns into chaos when all four Sides stowaway into space. Magic School Bus-style shenanigans ensue.’ Do you know what kind of budget we’d need for a video like that?” Virgil tosses the page aside on top of an embarrassingly tall stack of rejects. Roman’s gaze flickers toward Logan, wondering if the other would catch his attempt at integrating the other’s interests, but his eyes fall to his lap in shame instantly. It seems the Logical Side is too immersed in critiquing the page in his own hands to notice.

“'Lonely on Lover’s Day? Take These Tips to Find Happiness Again!” First of all, the title is far too lengthy for a YouTube video; it needs to be concise and snappy. Secondly, it sounds like a gimmicky dating website advertisement. Thirdly, we already did a Valentine’s Day video last year, one that was both serous and joking, as this appears to be. Last but certainly not least, I hardly think we need to be harkening back on romantic relationships and the lack thereof, for we recently made a two-part video focused on the subject.“ Logan sighs, dropping his sheet on top of his own reject pile as he picks up another. Roman grimaces although he probably should’ve seen that one coming. In the back of his thoughts, he’d known it was a crummy, repetitive idea; he’d been stupid to think it would slip by them.

"Hey, I think this one’s a winner!” Logan and Virgil throw Patton cursory glances; Patton’s personal acceptance pile would be far higher if the other two didn’t step in. “'A Day Out With Cute Baby Animals-’”

“Allergies.” The other two say in unison.

Roman winces. Idiot. How could you forget that?

“Oh-KAY!” Patton is flustered but reluctantly lets the planning page fall. “But I didn’t say anything about cats!”

“True, but we won’t risk it. There’s also the budget issue there, too.” Virgil quips, clearly becoming frustrated with this whole process.

“Well, hey, what about the one you got there, Virge: 'The Untold Secrets of Disney-’”

“Sounds like 'The Dark Side of Disney,’ to me.” Virgil groans, throwing down the sheet in his hands without even looking at it. “If I have to read through one more of Princey’s ridiculous ideas, I’m gonna lose it. I’m done for the night. Let’s watch a movie or something instead.” Before the others can protest, Virgil flips up his hood and his headphones materialize. “I’ll be back.” The Anxious Side sinks out of the Commons, and the remaining three are left alone.

“Well, we better get cleaning, then.” Patton sets to collecting all of the unaccepted ideas, tossing them into a garbage bag to be disposed of. As each sheet falls into the plastic bag, Roman feels his heart pound harder and harder. His eyes burn reliving the hours of scouring the woods of the DreamScape for the various forms his ideas could manifest themselves in. His back and shoulders ache as he recalls climbing trees for even the smallest of ideas. His legs and hips throb remembering the distances he ran to catch up to his own thoughts, ones he thought would surely be worth it. His hands tremble, still, after hours of turning those thoughts into written plans that the others could understand.

“Roman, can you hand me that paper there? By your feet?” Patton asks, shattering his reverie.

Roman grunts in reply, bending to grab what turns out to be “The Untold Secrets of Disney.” This idea is actually about the real-life dark events, rumors, and conspiracies surrounding Disney. He had thought it could be a fun idea he and Virgil could participate in together, and it would serve as a continuation of their previous video.

But, of course, Virgil didn’t even take a moment to read it before he immediately judged it as garbage and threw it away…of course, it’s not like he’s wrong…it isn’t the most original idea… Roman thinks bitterly, and before he can stop himself, he is tearing the page into tiny pieces, a shriek of frustration building in his throat.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey there, Ro, calm down.” Patton’s hands are on top of his, gently trying to pry the shreds from within Roman’s shaking fists.

Roman’s eyes go wide, but he immediately releases the scraps, hurriedly collects them, and tosses them in the trash, slumping into himself.

Patton is on his knees in front of him, searching his eyes with a hand on each of his shoulders. “You okay, kiddo? I know these pruning sessions can be hard on you. I think Virgil’s right; it’s time for a break.”

“Agreed.” Logan empties an armload of papers, pushing up his glasses with a tired sigh; the Logical Side gestures toward the acceptance pile, minuscule in comparison to the garbage piles, Roman notes. “Four hours of analyzing ideas is enough for one night, especially when we did not begin as early as we should have.” Logan pauses. “Many of your ideas were well-founded, Roman,” he softly assures the Creative Side, giving him a small smile.

But not good enough. Roman finishes to himself, paying no mind to what Logan actually says. Realizing the other is looking expectantly at him, Roman flashes Logan the best grin he can muster, pushing himself onto his feet.

“Well, nobody’s perfect, right? Not even a prince. We’ll just keep working on it until I get my act together and stop proposing worthless ideas. That’s what pruning is for, after all. To get rid of the dead, useless parts of a tree and of me.” He chuckles, but his heart starts pounding again when he registers the thick silence around him. Logan and Patton exchange a worried glance.

Before they can speak, though, Virgil materializes in the middle of the room.

“Holy crap, Princey, we really went through a load this time. A load of crap.” Virgil jests and gestures with twin finger-guns at the bag Patton is tying. “But not all of them stank.”

Right.

“Virgil-”

“Yeah, kiddo, I don’t think joking about it right now is the best thing-”

“What?” Virgil’s gaze snaps toward Patton at the bubbly Side’s unusually pensive tone. The Anxious Side looks at Roman for the first time since re-entering the room, his eyes growing wide when he realizes Roman’s breathing is labored and his cheeks are bright red. “Whoa, hey, Roman, what’s-”

“Oh, nothing, nothing at all, just the casual dismissal of several weeks of backbreaking labor in the DreamScape that was all obviously for nothing!”

“Princey-”

“Oh, no, it’s fine though.” Roman bites off, unable to contain the pure ire boiling over within him. “It’s fine because none of those ideas were any good anyway, right? You said so yourselves. Crap. Garbage. I’m only sorry I wasted all of our time on such idiotic, over-the-top, ridiculous ideas. I should’ve released them as soon as I caught them and saved us the pains of looking through my horrible work.”

“Roman-” “Ro, honey-” “P-Princey-”

“WHAT?!” Roman shouts at no one in particular. His head and chest are pounding painfully, like a tiny troll is pounding on the inside of his skull and ribcage, and his throat feels raw, aching.

“Princey…it’s okay if all your ideas aren’t all perfect.”

And with that poisonous seven letter word, Roman is hurled over his tipping point.

“What’s the point of doing anything at all if it’s not the best I can possibly do?! If it’s not perfect, there’s no point!” Roman screamed. “I can try and try and try, but in the end, all of my ideas fail because they’re never good enough. Because I’m-” Roman swallows thickly. “I’m not good enough. I’ll never…be good enough.” White-hot tears prick painfully at his eyes, but he will never let them see him break.

Roman immediately sinks out of the Commons and into his room, leaving the other three staring at his spot in pure shock.

—–

Roman storms into his space, locking the door with a violent motion. He immediately crosses to his desk and throws all of his creative supplies in a strongbox without a lock.

I won’t need those anymore anyway…useless tools….just like their user.

Useless. Worthless.

Roman grits his teeth, the fury rising again, and his wild stare swings around his realm. His gaze grabs onto his closet door, the initial gateway into the DreamScape. His rage erupts at an alarming speed, and he throws open the door, hurling the strongbox inside before slamming the door. Eyes locked on the scarlet-painted wood, Roman wills the door the vanish before him, effectively locking away his escape, his plague, and his skeletons.

Or so he thinks. But after years of culmination, it’s become clear that what masquerades as self-assurance and hard work is actually years’ worth of compounded perfectionism, as built up and ominous as the proverbial batch of bones buried in the darkest corner of his closet. After so many occasions of repression, of lying to the others and himself, of pretending he’s far less complicated than he is, Roman Sanders, the perceived perfect prince, is faced with the reality of himself. He is not a perfect being, so everything he creates will not always be his best. The best. Or even close to perfect. And to Roman, that constitutes failure.

The Prince scowls as the last bit of wood melts into the rest of his wall.

No need for that godforsaken hellscape anymore, anyway…it’s useless now…just like its creator…

Useless. Worthless. Imperfect.

These harmful phrases invade Roman’s thoughts, so strong and absolute in his mind that they manifest in a storm cloud that pelts hail on top of him, marring his skin. He cries out in pain, but collapses to the floor, unable to move.

Useless. Worthless. Imperfect. Not good enough. Never good enough.

The hateful words are like vices, vipers, that have him so entangled that he is paralyzed by his own self-doubt. He grits his teeth, curling into himself on the carpet as tears spill out of his eyes, falling as steadily as the hail that whispers self-hatred as it scorches white-hot yet cold against his skin.

Most days, Roman can hide what he feels inside, how much he hates himself, how he feels inadequate, but years of wear and tear have chipped away at his resolve. The skeletons in Roman’s closet have come back to haunt him, but he doesn’t know how to slay what should already be dead.

Part 2 (aka I fixed it): ...But Love Brought Him Back

Spin-off piece: Sticks and Stones

All of my Sanders Sides fanfics

#sanders sides fanfic #sanders sides #thomas sanders fic #thomas sanders #sanders sides fic #mine #tsfanfics #Roman angst

[namisiaa]

Anonim asked (I used google translator to translate this): How to color manga like you?

So, if you want to color manga frames similar way that I do you would have two programs: Paint tool Sai (1 or 2nd version) and Photoshop (I use CS6, but you can use CS5 or CC as well). I’ll write how I do it in few steps:

1. First thing is to change the size of a picture. I don’t have very good computer so I can color only rames which maximum sizes are 2500x2500 pxl without any troubles because of not having enought operating memory. I do it in Photoshop, just click “ctrl+a” then “ctrl+c” (copy), then “ctrl+n” (new document) then I change the sizes multiplying them depends of what sizes I want it to be.

2. Second step is making lineart. I use Paint Tool SAI for this. Open your frame in the program, create a lineart layer and with using “curve” or “line” tool I create lineart. First one is red (so I can see it clearly). Than I change color to black and use “pressure” to make the lines looks more natural (thinner in some places, thicker in others).

3. Now it’s time to add base colors. I use folders for every person and for background in separately. Inside the folder I add layer for skin, hair, eyes, mouth, clothes etc. To cover space with color I use wand tool on lineart layer and when I selec the part I want to cover with color I go back to the normal layer (for example skin) and use very big size of brush to cover selected space with color. I name every layer and folder so I can easily find the one I want to work on.

4. Coloring process itself depends on what effect I want to achive, but simple version goes like this: first shades (sharp ones - I make them with “pencil” tool on new clipped layre with multiply mode. Than I create second multiply layer and add 2nd shades - less visible, with smooth transitions between colors. Sometimes I make 3rd or even 4th layer for that. Then I create another multiply layer and use “air brush” tool to add some smooth shades. Next one is a layer with shine (luminosity in Paint Tool SAI 1) layer to create smooth light. Then I create another shine/luminosity layer and add sharp shines mostly on the edges of material/block that I color.

5. At the end of color a part of the frame I go to lineart layer to change the colors of the lineart itself.

6. When I finish all the coloring I save my work in “.psd” (Photoshop format) and open the work in Photoshop. That’s where I add some extras like color balance, gaussian blur, some stars/leafs/circes/other stull from custmed brushes, chromatic effect and many other things. After I finish this part I just sighned my work and save it as a PNG file and it’s ready to publish! If this isn’t clear for you (I don’t have time to make screenshots for now) you can visit my youtube channel. I posted some on my manga colorings speed painting videos there. They are a bit old and my way and style of coloring changed since the lat video, but it’s more than nothing :D. So here’s the link: YOUTUBE.

And the most important thing if you want to start color manga frames: Don’t give up! Never give up! It’s hard sometimes and you can feel like you have no idea what are you doing (I still feel like that sometimes xD), but it’s worth the effects after some time :D. And don’t let people to discourage you no matter what. If you really want to do it, just do it and sooner of later you will see great results :D.

#answer #question #manga coloring #paint tool sai #potoshop #anonim #the poorest tutorial ever - sorry xD

[junker-town]

SB Nation reviews: Super Mario 64

Getty Images

Style 10

The opening of Super Mario 64 moves like a dream: birds chirping, a path cutting through verdant green knolls; a moat and castle; a menacing laugh; a liquid painting, a portal to a battlefield. The components don’t fit, and yet going from one to the next feels right. The exposition is loose. You were supposed to be blown away by the world itself — how bright the colors were, how many things you could touch and climb — and so the developers moved everything else out of the way. I remember how round everything seemed.

It presented an overwhelming amount of new information to take in. The castle contained multiple types of locked doors, and coins served a different purpose than they had in any previous Mario game. It was hard to tell who was an enemy. In past Mario games, you could presume that everything wanted to kill you, but in Mario 64, the first characters you meet are friendly pink bob-ombs, who I instinctively distrusted.

Nothing was ever very clearly spelled out. The first stage, Bob-Omb Battlefield, gives you a path to follow, but the whatzits and bobbles along the way — the red coin on top of a gizmo (good thing!), the inaccessible star behind the cage (good thing?), the bubbles falling from the sky (bad thing!) — you had to discover their purpose on your own. One of the first enemies you encounter is the massive, toothy, barking and utterly terrifying Chain Chomp guarding the caged star, which I ran like hell from after it planted me.

Mario 64 did a lot of things that may not be considered good game design anymore. All of Nintendo’s later Mario games would eschew placing man-eating ballistics within the first 30 seconds of their first level, for example. But often it felt like they overcorrected. The Super Mario Galaxy games were particularly egregious about spelling out solutions, or having a non-playable character ask if you need help if you seemed to be dying a lot.

By contrast, nowhere does Mario 64 explain that jumping into the Wet-Dry World painting at different heights changes its water level. Or that the time you enter Tick Tock Clock affects the speed of its rotating gears. Or how the hell you do anything in Big Boo’s Haunt, really. The game figured you would piece everything on your own in time, and never seemed concerned that you might miss something. The only way it anticipated your confusion was by giving you the option ditch a level you were tired of or stuck on, and to go play another. The game contained 120 total power stars, but you only needed 70 to attempt the final stage.

Mario 64’s mysteries were so rich and obtuse that players often over-read into the environment. Famously, theories about the meaning of an inscription on a statue in the castle courtyard (usually read as either “Eternal Star or “L is real 2401”) were shared on message boards well into the next generation of consoles, many hoping it was a clue to finding Luigi within the game.

Compare that again to the Galaxy games, which were brilliant in their own right, but were designed in order to make missing anything impossible. It took more than 20 years, with the release of Super Mario Odyssey, for Nintendo to approach Super Mario 64’s level of exploration and wonder, but it still didn’t come close in obtuseness. Only 2D predecessors Super Mario Bros. 3 and Super Mario World (and maybe Super Mario Sunshine, though I never played it) were as comfortable with being confusing.

Maybe I’m apt to read into things, but Super Mario 64 seemed built for a bygone, more personable world. I learned what to do and where to go through real life communication with others who were also playing the game — cousins, kids on the playground, etc. I had no choice. Good walkthroughs weren’t as easy to find as they are now. While games in the time of Super Mario 64 existed within the world, games now exist within themselves, giving you everything you need, every tool and signpost, within a demarcated space.

Super Mario 64 wasn’t optimized, and that made it feel more real. In Lethal Lava Land, falling into a volcano and discovering a whole new world felt like a little communion between me and the person who put it there. I wasn’t led to the lip with wisely placed breadcrumbs. I just leaped, in case someone hoped I might.

Performance 10

In part because I was so in love with my ability to move within its environment, I forgave Super Mario 64 its flaws. Yeah, the camera is cumbersome, but wrestling with it felt like part of the game. If I had to walk across a narrow platform, my process would be to: 1) wriggle the joystick and the camera buttons until I had a legible angle to walk 2) tilt the joystick ever so slightly in the direction I wanted to go, and 3) be ready for the camera to swing suddenly and wildly. I know that the camera’s many quirks weren’t intended, and I understand if anyone feels it takes away from the game now. But to me, the camera still feels like a feature, a part of the way of things.

And if I am apt to normalize Mario 64’s shortcomings, I think I also took for granted just how much it nailed. Movement, for example, isn’t something you tend to think about as you’re doing it. If you find yourself thinking about how you’re moving through the world, it’s likely because you feel so restricted that it’s occupying your consciousness. And so it was that you might not have realized just how much fun you were having as you jumped and double jumped and triple jumped and long jumped and wall jumped and butt stomped and backflipped and kicked and scooted throughout the game. Nor just how much that movement enabled exploration, nor how frustrating all of those secrets could have been if it wasn’t so inherently fun to hurl your body at every seam in the architecture.

Mario 64 wasn’t a glitchy game, per se, but like any early polygonal game it showed its ass from time to time. But as with the camera, you could come to love seeing Mario’s arm clip through a wall, or his whole body stutter violently if he stood, just so, on a ledge. Mario 64 was both fun to play and play with. It was OK if what you did broke the game’s world in some way if it felt right within your own.

Mario 64’s herky jerky-ness even helped give it a second life. It is one of the most notable speedrunning games of all time. For decades now, players have been finding new ways to exploit the game. The first discoveries were innocuous enough, from using the rabbit in the basement, named Mips, to glitch through doors, to doing a backwards long jump to get up the endless staircase to Bowser In The Sky without the requisite star total. One YouTuber so disassembled the game’s geometry that he beat a complicated star without technically jumping. He used a technique that could credibly be explained using the phrase “parallel universes.” You can see for yourself.

I hate to impose philosophy on a game that really isn’t so complicated. Super Mario 64 was designed purely for fun. You jump around intricate sandboxes and break things until you’ve picked up enough shiny tokens to save a princess. That’s it, that’s the whole thing.

But I can’t ignore what it was when it came out in 1996 and what it is now. I don’t know that I ever will again experience something so inspired, and so made with love, as Super Mario 64. Video games had only just gained a grip on how to design for a 2D space when Nintendo started grappling with 3D. The result was a game written without rules, in which every decision was a bold experiment, guided only by someone’s instinct for joy. It’s why even when things don’t quite work, you could not only forgive those faults, but love them.

Super Mario 64 is not a masterpiece for its time. It’s a masterpiece, full stop, both an artifact that could have only been forged within a thin sliver of existence, and a timeless example of pure creation and creativity rarely seen — and seemingly rarer and rarer — in this world. It is a reminder that perfection can never be approached if you strive for it. And that to ever come close may mean necessarily falling short.

Overall 9.9

[lowat-golden-tower]

Paging Dr. Birthday

Soooo yes. I know this is late. I know you're all screaming at me, "WHERE'S THE EMBRACING DARKNESS UPDATE." I'm sorry. Life's been crazy, and I haven't had much time or motivation to write. But I was determined to do something for the doc's birthday, even if it ended up getting posted two days later... oops....

But still! This is a good thing, because it means I'm getting my writing mojo back. Hopefully I'll have the new chapter out soon. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy some silly shenanigans with another set of egos. I struggled a bit with this but I'm very happy with the end result.

A very belated happy birthday to you, Dr. Henrik von Schneeplestein! May you continue keeping all our green beans safe, come Hell or glitch bitch.

AO3 Mirror

"Alright, listen, we gotta do this fer Schneeps. He's awesome, an' he keeps us put together, an' he jus' got outta havin' a bad rap with tha fans. He needs this. Especially after that video where Anti fucked wit'im."

Chase turned his head to shoot said glitch a look, the other Jacksepticeye egos following suit. Well, except for Robbie, but he was a little slow on the uptake. They could forgive him for it and just left him to contentedly chew on the kitchen table.

Anti, for his part, merely sneered at the group and proceeded to flip them off, his entire form briefly glitching in place.

Chase sighed and slipped off his hat so he could run a hand through his hair, ruffling it up and scratching at his scalp. "So. Glitchy arseholes aside-"

"Iǹh͞a̵l̴e҉ ͝my҉ ̶d̷ong̴, C͟h͟a̕se."̀

"-we need a plan. At least some ideas on what ta do. What about a surprise party?"

"I can make confetti! And streamers. And sparks! I can even make tha candles light up when he comes in." Marvin was quick to offer, wiggling his fingers and grinning with a flourish.

Chase pointed at the eager magician with a happy nod. "Yes. Good. What else?"

"If you can bake a cake, I can decorate eet to perfection! Mua! Tres magnifique. My masterpiece." Jacques cut in, kissing his fingertips. He was quick to go back to doodling, though, shooing away a curious Robbie before he could drool all over his sketchbook.

"Okay, cake, I can do that. And Marv can help, right Marv?" Chase looked back to the magician again, who gave an enthusiastic nod and thumbs up. "Sweet. Okay. So..." Slowly, his blue eyes slid to Anti, who was still sitting huffy and with his arms crossed.

Anti met Chase's gaze for a singular moment, then looked away and curled his lip into a disdainful sneer. "͘F̶o̧o͠k̡ off͏.̧ ̛I͟ ̵aiņ't͏ d͞o͞i͏n͢' ̡sh͟it̵e ͟fer̛ ͞t͏h̸ąt lo̵ony͟ ̕b̢in̨.̴ ̢Hav̵e ̧f̴ùn͝ ̸scar̢i͠n' tha͡ piss͢ out̷ta̸ h̴įm ͟f͢er ̡me, a̧n͏d ̶pr̛ob͘a͠b̢ly ̧gett̛in͞' s͜t́ab́bed̴ ͟wi̡t͜h a̶ ̛s̴ca̡lpe͡l͝ f͏er ye҉r͠ e̛f͞fo͟rt͘s. ͠I'm͘ ̀ou͟t!" With that, Anti glitched out of the kitchen, leaving behind the buzz of static and taste of iron.

Chase sighed and slipped his hat back onto his head. "Welp. Was worth a shot, at least. I think a cake'll be present enough, since I don't really know what Schneeps likes besides... medical... shite. Y'know. So let's just bake him a cake. Jacques can decorate it, and..." His gaze slid to where Robbie sat, clearly zoned out and drooling onto the table. Chase scratched at one of his sideburns. "...maybe Robbie can help. Mostly let's just make sure he doesn't drool on tha cake or anythin'."

Robbie looked up at the sound of his name, grunting curiously. He didn't quite understand what was going on, but it had something to do with the nice doctor who always stiched him back together when he fell apart. That and cake. Robbie liked cake. Maybe they would let him have some cake?

Before he could try to ask, there was the sudden crash of splintering wood from above. Chunks of debris and dust fell into the kitchen, frightening off those gathered at the table. Robbie ran out of the room with a lengthy cry, still heard quite clearly even after he'd gone down the hall. Marvin had his wand out at the ready, while Jacques and Chase coughed in the cloud of slowly settling dust.

"Who tha fook-"

"Greetin's, fellow citizens! Sorry I'm late, but I had ta save a train!" The confident form of Jackieboy stood upon the dust-strewn table, fists resting firmly on his hips. He wore a blinding grin, his head held high as if he hadn't just blasted a hole through their ceiling. "I heard we were makin' up plans for tha doc! I'm here ta offer my services."

Jacques wheezed, "Well ye can start by gettin' off tha fookin' table!"

In the end, Jackieboy was left to keep Schneep distracted and away from the kitchen. Which in hindsight, wasn't really all that hard, seeing as the doctor normally stayed cooped up in his office anyway. So Jackieboy's secondary task became keeping an eye out for any signs of sabotage from Anti, with a very minor tertiary task of corraling a hungry Robbie.

"Robbie, no, yeh can't eat tha eggs or tha flour. Not only is it bad fer yeh, but they need it ta make tha cake!" Jackieboy tugged the drooling, wide-eyed zombie back from the kitchen for the sixth time. The sleeves of his suit were covered in zombie spit by now and he internally sighed, not looking forward to washing the spandex. "C'mon, let's find yeh somethin' ta chew on." The hero grunted, dragging Robbie off down the hall.

Chase felt a twinge of guilt at Robbie's needy grunts and disapppointed groans, but they could make it up to him with cake later. If they got that far. Pursing his lips into a frown, Chase scratched at his hairline, almost knocking off his hat in the process. He squinted down at the recipe on his phone and scowled. "This doesn't make any sense. This is stupid."

"I told yeh, I could always just..." Marvin began, giving his wand a little wiggle.

Chase immediately shook his head. "No magic. Yeh've never conjured food before, an' no offense Marv, but I really don't want ta poison tha doc on his birthday. Or... us. Besides, it takes some of tha thought outta it, doesn't it? Jus' summonin' one up? Like goin' to tha store an' buyin' one. It's just cake. We can figure this out." Maybe. Hopefully.

"Whossat big bakin' YouTuber? Tha one Mark likes ta do videos with?" Marvin suggested after more wasted time spent staring at the recipe and dully cracking eggs into a mixing bowl.

"Rosanna Pansino? Oh yeah! Yer right, she's probably got a whole tutorial on bakin' a cake. Good one, Marv!"

Marvin beamed with happiness, and together the pair searched up the most appropriate video they could find. Her visual instructions made it a little easier. Soon enough, the cakes were in the oven, and the kitchen was an absolute disaster.

Chase and Marvin didn't look much better, and Chase laughed. "Yeh got egg on yer mask."

"Well you've got flour all over yer hat!" Marvin countered, grinning.

Chase removed his hat to find it had indeed changed into a different color, and together they both shared another laugh. Then he sighed and plopped his hat back on. "We're both a mess, and so's tha kitchen. I call tha shower first, then you should get one in before we throw tha big surprise. That way I'll be here ta check on tha cakes."

Marvin nodded. "I can try ta clean up a little in tha meantime. Magic's fine fer cleanin', right?" He put on his very best puppydog look and batted his eyelashes.

Chase snorted. "Yeah, yeah. But only ta clean. Don't do anythin' ta tha cakes!" He pointed at Marvin with severity, and the magician gave an obedient nod.

"O' course, o' course. No magic cakes!"

"Good. I'll be back."

The moment Chase was out of sight, Marvin's angelic expression turned a tiny bit devious. He smirked at the oven and raised his wand. "No magic cakes. But magic oven? Didn't hear any rules about that...."

When Chase returned to the kitchen later, he was happy to find it spotless.

He was significantly less happy to find the cakes already out of the oven, having apparently quadrupled in size. And multiplied. Chase was distinctly sure they only put two cakes in the oven, but the stack Jacques was busily decorating consisted of at least four or five.

Marvin, spying him, grimaced and was quick to duck past him out of the kitchen. "My turn ta shower! Gotta hurry before the party! Bye!" He was gone before Chase could really register the escape and try to stop him, thus leaving him alone with Jacques in the kitchen.

Chase sighed heavily and rubbed at his forehead. Sometimes, it felt like he had an entirely new set of kids to care for. Oh well. There was no real fixing it now. Especially since Jacques appeared to be "in the zone." Once the artsy ego got going, it was hazardous to try and stop him. Like stopping a speeding train, really. Last time Chase tried to ask him something while Jacques was in the middle of painting a portrait, he'd nearly gotten a paintbrush shoved up his nose.

Jacques was humming to himself, smearing acidic green frosting along the stack of cakes. He was hardly a baker or cake decorator, but he was the most creative out of them all. Chase wouldn't have given the important task to anyone else. Still, he felt it necessary to ask...

"You, uh... yer usin' food colorin', right?"

Jacques only response was to grunt his irritation at being interrupted and wave a hand. Chase wasn't sure if that meant "shoo" or "yes" but he was going to take it as the latter. Another word and he might end up with a pastry bag tip shoved somewhere very unpleasant.

"Robbie, no, yeh can have cake later, I promise! Righ' now Jacques has gotta work! C'mon..." Jackieboy whined as he barely caught a sprinting Robbie under the armpits. Chase had stumbled back, surprised by the zombie's efforts.

His surprise redoubled when Robbie's arms popped right off.

"Fook-"

"Jackie!"

"It was an accident. I ferget he can jus' fall apart like that!"

"Well stop'im, he's gonna get to tha cake!"

"CAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAKE." Robbie stumbled towards the monstrosity Marvin had cultivated, jaw hanging and drool flowing freely. He might not have had arms anymore, but that was hardly going to stop him.

Thankfully, Jacques was not intimidated by a hungry zombie. The moment he heard someone drawing near, he whipped around and stuck his frosting-coated spatula in the ego's face. Robbie was so stunned by the move that he actually stopped, staring at the spatula with wide, confused eyes. "No. Bad zombie. Zat is a very, very bad zombie! Down boy! Heel! Go! Shoo-shoo! Begone from zis masterpiece! It ees not yet completed! Shoo!"

Robbie whined, then whimpered as the spatula was waved about in his face. He ducked away from it, tantalizing as the sweet smell of frosting could be, then turned tail and ran away again.

Chase watched him go, then looked down at the fallen limbs. He nudged one with a foot.

Jackie mimicked him, but with less limb nudging. "I should... probably..."

"...go give him his arms back, yeah. At least it'll keep Schneep distracted."

Schneep sighed while he diligently sewed Robbie's arms back to his shoulders. It had almost become busy work for him; a task he completed dozens of times a month. He could probably do it with his eyes closed at this point.

Jackieboy was no stranger to his clinic either. If the superhero wasn't coming in after a scrape with "evil-doers" or a crash landing, then he was bringing in one of the others. Robbie was, indeed, the likely suspect. Today was no different. Still, it was quite the feat that Robbie had managed to lose both arms at once. At least it prevented him from messing around with Schneep's supplies.

"Und just how did he manage to lose zem zis time?"

Jackieboy rubbed at the back of his neck, expression sheepish. "Oh, y'know... zombie things. Think he mighta been chasin' somethin'."

"Hmph." Schneep squinted at his stitching, then clipped the excess. He moved on to the other shoulder but not before shooting Jackieboy a suspicious frown. He was acting strangely. "Und you just happened to find heem like zis?"

"Uh, yup! Definitely. Had nothin' ta do with the accident at all."

"...right. Of course."

Robbie burbled out some nonsense while he tested his reattached arm. It thumped repeatedly against the little table until Schneep grabbed for it, pressing it down.

"Stop."

Robbie grunted at him, but seemed to listen- for the moment. Schneep had barely gone back to stitching when Robbie's arm flung out, knocking over an entire cup of tongue depressors. Schneep released a guttural cry of frustration.

"I got it, doc!" Jackieboy was quick on the draw, scooping up the wooden sticks and dumping them back into the cup. Robbie burbled and slapped his hand against the table in response; clearly amused and impressed. Jackieboy had to smile at the child-like behavior. "Gotta be careful, Robbie. Don't wanna break anything now." He reached out to ruffle the zombie's hair, resulting in multiple happy noises coupled with a dopey grin.

Schneep scoffed. "He should focus on not breakeeng heemself."

Jackieboy may have just been reading too into things as he was wont to do, but it sounded like Schneep was more agitated than usual. The doctor was almost always a salty individual, but this level of hostility was... out of the ordinary. Especially towards Robbie. Good thing they had a special surprise planned! Surely that would lift Schneep's dampened spirits. "Hey, at least he's easy ta put back together."

Schneep scrunched up his nose. "Yes... und drool is easier to get out of clothes zan blood."

Once Marvin was showered and the cake was completed, it was simply a matter of dressing up the kitchen. Between the three egos, it proved to be, well... a piece of cake. Marvin conjured up a majority of what they needed, or they dug it out of the closets from previous parties. Jacques told them where to hang what and kept everything in a healthy balance of color.

The cake itself shone like a brilliant beacon in the center of the kitchen, all greens and blues with little Sam's piped here and there. Jacques had done his best to add on some medical things like giving the Sam's surgical masks, stenciling out makeshift syringes and scalpels and even writing out "Happy Birthday!" in a lovely white script at the top. He'd really outdone himself. Chase had no doubt Schneep was going to love it.

"Okay, so I texted Jackie, an' he should be showin' up any time with tha doc. We gotta dim tha lights an' get into positions fer the big surprise! So find a good hidin' spot an' wait until tha lights come on to jump out, got it?"

The other two nodded. Marvin gave a little swish of his cape, and just like that disappeared in a puff of smoke. Dramatic, but effective. Jacques, on the other hand, was all drama and... almost zero effect. He hid behind a chair. Chase supposed it would do and slipped into the cupboard, leaving the door cracked to see.

The seconds stretched into what felt like minutes, then hours, with those gathered practically holding their breaths in anticipation. Their ears were primed to catch the softest squeak of floorboards, but it honestly took so long Chase was about ready to shoot Jackieboy another text. It was in that exact moment they heard the voices; several sets of footsteps accompanying them towards the kitchen.

"Jackie, honestly, zere is a coffee machine een my clinic!" Schneep sounded exasperated. Hopefully the surprise and cake would be enough to make up for whatever tactics Jackieboy had used to keep him occupied.

"Well, yeah, but tha one in tha kitchen makes such better coffee. I mean, yeh can taste tha difference. Besides, 's always good ta get up an' stretch yer legs a little bit."

"I am on my feets all ze time, Jackieboy. I hardly need more exercise."

"Of course. I just... I meant..."

"CAKE." Robbie. He was going to blow their cover!

"Ca-?" Schneep began, tone questioning, only to be abruptly cut-off by Jackieboy.

"Oh! Right! It was cake he chasin' after, before. Y'know, when he ripped his arms off? Poor thing must still be cravin' it, ahaha...."

There was silence, but Chase knew Schneep; he was probably squinting at Jackieboy with the upmost skepticism. He wanted to smack his forehead. Why, oh why, did all of them have to be so bad at lies and deception? Well, except for Anti, but he didn't count. Not as if he wanted anything to do with this, anyway.

Thankfully, Schneep didn't have anymore time to consider what Jackieboy might be trying to hide. At that moment, the kitchen light switched on. "Vhy is eet zo dark een here?"

"SURPRISE!"

Chase leapt out of the cupboard, arms flung wide with a grin on his face. He glanced across the kitchen, hoping the others had remembered their cue. Jacques was on his feet, gesturing towards the cake he'd spent painstaking hours on. And in another puff of smoke, Marvin reappeared, his cape swishing and wand raised. Just like that, bright green confetti rained from the ceiling, and the candles scattered about the cake lit up.

"Surprise...!" Jackieboy tacked on a few seconds later, giving some jazz hands and a sheepish grin of his own.

Robbie grunted, eyeing the cake, but apparently he'd learned his lesson.

Schneep openly gawked at it all. His stunned expression wasn't hindered in the slightest, as he'd removed his surgical mask for a nice coffee break. There was confetti in his hair but he either didn't notice or ignored it in favor of looking around to take it all in. He was speechless.

Chase's grin faltered when more than a minute had passed without some reaction from the doctor. He glanced at the other egos anxiously, and wasn't sure if he felt relief or more concern when his anxiety was mirrored back to him. Was this a mistake? Did Schneep hate it? Was he upset and just trying not to let it loose in front of everyone? Maybe Anti was right. Maybe this was a bad idea.

Robbie's drool dripping to the linoleum was the only sound, the zombie valiantly holding himself off. He only had eyes for the cake, though, completely oblivious to the growing awkward tension. Cake.

Finally, Chase began to lower his arms, expression crumpled into uncertainty and regret. "Do... you... not like it...?" The others followed his actions, dropping their arms. Marvin began to fidget with his cape.

Schneep blinked rapidly, as if coming out of a trance. The action finally dislodged the tears which had been gathered in his blue eyes; a thin film too transparent to be seen. They dripped down his cheeks and he slowly lifted a hand, touching at the wetness on his face. He looked as stunned as the rest of them. "Oh."

Chase tensed, his hands flying up. "Doc. Fook, doc, I'm sorry, I just thought- fook." He stepped forward, unsure of what to do but wanting to help.

"I knew zis was a bad idea!" Jacques bemoaned dramatically, though he'd said absolutely nothing of the sort prior to right this very moment.

"Oh no doc don't cry! Don't cry!" Marvin rushed forward as well, expression pained and guilty.

Jackieboy clutched at his head with a grimace. "Ahhhh fook, we made Schneeps cry, I can't believe we fooked up that badly." What to do? What to do? He was a hero! He should know this!

Robbie blinked at all of the commotion, turning around with a grunt. He tilted his head, watching the other egos hover around the doctor. No cake?

"Doc..." Chase tried again, his heart aching as he watched the ego brush more tears off his face. "Henrik, I'm sorry, I thought..." He trailed off, intially because he thought Schneep was starting to sob. His heart almost broke, but then he and the others realized it wasn't sobs bubbling past Schneep's lips, but laughter. Chase's blue eyes went wide; all the egos visibly flummoxed.

It took Schneep a few moments to form words between the laughter, and when he did manage it they were breathless; his tone giddy. There were still a few tears trickling down his cheeks but now the others were understanding them to be tears of joy. "No, no, no. You misunderstand. I am not upset! No! I am zo happy. I am..." He huffed out a breath, his broad grin making his eyes crinkle at the corners. "...I vas beginning to zink you all forgot, to be honest, I..." Schneep shook his head. "I vas not expecteeng a party like this, or cake, but just a 'happy birthday' or two...."

The words clicked in Jackieboy's brain, and suddenly he comprehended the cause of Schneep's prickly attitude earlier. He was upset that no one had stopped by to at least wish him a happy birthday. And when he registered the fact they'd gone above and beyond, throwing him a party, he'd just been too stunned to say anything. Stunned to tears, apparently. Jackieboy's heart performed a somersault in his chest. "Doc..."

"Don't look at me, I am a hideous mess! All zese snot und tears, agh. I need a tissue." Schneep sniffed, still scrubbing at his reddened face. The tension in room dissipated like air leaking from a balloon.

Chase smiled, and then he chuckled a bit himself. Relief flooded his system as he took off his hat to run fingers through his hair. "Henrik. C'mon. As if we'd ferget your birthday! We jus' wanted ta make it extra special."

"I'm glad yer not cryin' 'cause yer upset, but here." Marvin pulled a tissue from his sleeve after a bit of fancy handwork, passing it off to the sniffling doctor with a gentle smile. "We'd never forget your birthday, Schneep. Yeh do too much fer us."

"A cake is ze least you deserve." Jacques tacked on, having recovered from his dramatic display.

Robbie still didn't know the specifics of what was going on, but he grunted and nodded emphatically. Everyone was saying good things about the doctor, and he agreed.

Jackieboy laughed and gave Schneep a hearty slap on the back. "Yeh big sap! Lookit you, cryin' like a little kid. You underestimate us." He only beamed when Schneep sent him a look over his shoulder, giving a wink and cute two-fingered salute.

Schneep scoffed, taking a moment to blow his nose one more time before discarding the tissue. "Alright, alright, zo I vas mistaken. One of very few mistakes I am glad for. I only hope ze wax deed not ruin zis cake. Eet is enormous!"

It was Chase's turn to shoot Marvin a look, who grinned sheepishly. "I uh... mighta fiddled with tha oven... a bit. But like I said, yeh deserved a fantastic cake! No- a magnificent cake! Jacques did a great job decoratin', an' don't worry about tha candles. Magic fire means no melty wax. Bit of a trick I've been workin' on." He gave a wink of his own, grinning.

"Please, it was nozing! Child's play!" Jacques was silently preening at the praise, though, everyone could see it.

Schneep shook his head, but he was still smiling as he stepped closer to the cake. The others gathered around, Robbie showing brilliant self-control by not shoving his face into it straight away. "Eet's amazing. All of zis is. Zank you, all of you."

"Happy birthday, Schneeps. Blow out tha candles and make a wish!"

"Happy birthday, Schneep. Make it a good one."

"Good luck blowing them all out at once. Happy birthday."

"Caaaaake." Robbie grunted, turning to smile at Schneep. "Birfday."

Schneep chuckled. "Yes. Yes eet is, Robbie." The sheer size of the cake and the number of candles was a little intimidating, but Schneep was determined. He drew in a deep breath, prepared to try his best, when suddenly the very top of the cake exploded outwards. He choked on the breath he'd taken, shocked, stumbling backwards and sputtering. "Vhat-"

Frosting spotted everyone, and the furniture, but that was the extent of the damage. Multiple sets of blue eyes squinted up at the top of the cake, flabbergasted, but the cause of the explosion was immediately obvious. There, with his naked upper half sticking out from the top of the cake, was none other than Anti. Frosting and bits of cake were smeared all over his skin, his green hair sticking to his face. He bore the biggest grin of all while he flung his arms out to either side in a clear show of "Here I am!".

"ANTI?!"

"̧Su͢r̶prise! ̧I̸ ch͢ange͞d ͡my ͏m̶i͜n͠d̶.͢ ͏D́e̡cid͢ed͜ ҉to͟ ̡dro̸p͘ in òn̢ ̨you̴r ͏li͝ttle̛ pa̛rty͡ aft͢e̡r ҉all͞. ́I ͝h̢eard ̧t̢h̕is ̢w͝a̴s͘ ̶a ͝p͡opu̕l͢a̧r͏ th͠i̸ng ͟t́o d͝o͠, ̡f͢er̴ gi͡ànt̕ ̷cak͜és͢.̢ F̕ig̵u̕r͞ed̶ ͞y͠o̴u'҉d ͟a̧p̴p̧rec̢iat̶e͏ it̕.͡" Anti glitched a bit, his head jerking to one side while he leered down at the doctor.

Schneep's face looked torn between paling and being flustered, rapidly flickering between white and red. He sputtered again, absolutely floored. "Did you all plan zis?!"

"NO!" Chase was quick to deny involvement, though it was also obvious he was having a hard time swallowing down his laughter. "Anti wanted nothin' ta do with yer party!"

"Mon dieu!" Jacques pressed the back of his wrist to his forehead and made a show of fainting, Jackieboy faithfully running over to "catch" him.

The superhero rolled his eyes. "For fook's sake, Anti."

"W͟hąt̶? Yo̡u w͢anted̷ a ̷śu͝ŕp̴r͡i̢se,̧ I̷ gàve̛ ́it͝ ͜to͝ y͟ou!́ ͝Y̢ou͝ ̨şhǫuld bè ͏t̨ḩan͟king me̶!"

"Uh. I just... I was wonderin'...." All eyes turned to a fidgeting Marvin, the barest hint of his blush visible under the lip of his mask. "Are you... completely naked?"

That was clearly something no one else had thought of, as all eyes turned to Anti again; wide with disbelief. The glitch poked his tongue out, arms crossing over his chest. "O̧f co͠urs̷e͡.̵ ͏Ho͝w̷ el̀se̵ would ye͝h ̡d̀o ̧it?"́

"Oh god." Chase tugged the brim of his hat down over his face.

"Mon dieu!" Jacques cried again, falling heavier into a flustered Jackieboy's arms.

"Zat is disgusting!" Schneep shouted, pulling a face.

Anti scowled, his expression darkening. "W͠e ͡all̀ h̀a͠ve̢ ̡t̴ha̷ sąme̢ b̨ody̨! ̛I͡t's͟ n̕o̵t̕ ̵g҉on̴na͘ ͞k҉i͏ll ̶yeh́! L͘o̵ók̶- ͢Rob̛bie'҉s eat̛in'̷ i̢t!"͜ He pointed to where the zombie was buried to his shoulders in the sweet confection, finally caving to his desires.

Suddenly, no one really seemed to mind. Chase pushed his hat back up with a sigh, turning to leave the kitchen. "Welp. Guess we're gonna go buy a cake. C'mon everybody, I think tha bakery down the street's still open."

"Yes, good, I second zis idea. Perhaps ve can even get zome dinner." Schneep was quick to follow Chase out, Marvin at his heels.

Jackieboy hefted Jacques up into his arms bridal-style. "Let's go, princess. Have fun with Robbie, Anti! Don't make anymore of a mess." He trailed after the other three, Jacques more than content to be carried as he blew the glitch a farewell kiss over Jackieboy's shoulder.

"Salut!"

"͞He҉y͝! Wait!͞ Y͘e̛ a͠r͞śe̴h͞o̸le̵s!͟ ̴C͢o͘m͡e ́bac͝ḱ h̴e̡r͘e! ̸Ye͝h͠ ̡c͘an't j̸ust͡ c͡h͏a̸nge̡ y̵er m͢in҉ds!́ H̸ȩy̷!" Anti gripped at the top layer of cake, glowering after their retreating forms. Figured, that's what he got for actually trying to "participate" and "help out." Ungrateful bastards. He huffed, shifting to rest his forearms on the cake instead, looking down to where his zombie companion was still happily eating away. "͞Well̨.̴ ͏L̶eas̷t ̷I'̕m͡ no҉t̷ ̴a͠l҉on͡e,̸ ̡I͡ g͜u̴e͜şs.̴ Th͠ìn͜k҉ ̶ye͘h̛ c̢an̴ ̧eat̛ ҉tha̸ w̧hole t̵hing҉, R͜obb̡i̵e?͜"

Robbie's head popped up from a different layer, his body positively coated in bright green frosting and a half-decayed grin on his pale face. "Cake!"

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye egos #jsegos #dr. schneeplestein #chase brody #bro average #marvin the magnificent #robbie the zombie #jacques #jackieboy man #antisepticeye #paging dr. birthday #fanfiction #needle mention #dismemberment #nudity mention

[trendingnewsb]

The Weird Origin Story of the Viral, Dangerous Hoverboard

A few weeks ago, I bought a new toy. $595 on Amazon, Prime shipping, showed up 36 hours after I clicked buy. It weighs 22 pounds, and, after about an hour of practice, I had it going top speed, about 6 mph. (It feels faster than it sounds.) I’ve fallen off it a million times, often after it does this weird seizure-crash thing that I cant figure out how to stop or predict.

My new toy is called a Two Wheels Smart Self Balancing Scooters Drifting Board Electric (blue), and it’s kind of like a Segway—but with no handlebars. It’s not a skateboard, but it’s kind of like a sideways skateboard? It’s like a scooter, ish? The world has mostly decided to call it a hoverboard. I don’t know what to call it.

Whatever it is, I love it. And it’s all Justin Bieber’s fault. It just looked so fun in his Instagrams.

All it took was one Instagram of Kendall Jenner on the board for the PhunkeeDuck to blow up.

If you’ve been paying attention, you’ve seen it before. It’s sort of a phenomenon. Here is a (very) partial list of celebrities who have tweeted, Instagrammed, or YouTubed themselves riding one in the last couple of months: The Biebs himself, Chris Brown (who is awesome at it), Nick Jonas, Zedd, Soulja Boy, Kendall Jenner, JR Smith, Nicki Minaj, Wiz Khalifa, Nina Agdal, David Ortiz, Karim Benzema, and Skrillex. It’s been on the Tonight Show, and showed up at the NBA Finals.

Every time anyone uploads a video or picture of this scooter, the commenters all want to know two things: What’s that called, and where can I buy it?

That’s where it gets weird.

What’s in a name?

In late May, in front of a Fleet Week audience of military members, Jamie Foxx rolled onto the Tonight Show stage on a scooter. Once he figured out how to get off it, Foxx explained to Jimmy Fallon, “It’s, uh, a PhunkeeDuck,” as he rolled the board toward himself to make sure he had the name right. Fallon got on it, and did what everyone does their first time: wobbled jelly-legged for a minute, and then slowly inched around before getting comfortable.

That whole scene really annoys IO Hawk’s Curtis Hedges. Because, he says, that scooter was not a PhunkeeDuck. It was an IO Hawk, his companys product. Hedges tells me to look closely at the wheels, where there’s clearly an “IO” logo in the center. He’s laughing, too, as if he can hardly comprehend the idea that PhunkeeDuck isn’t stealing. And he’s right: PhunkeeDucks look just like IO Hawks, right down to the IO logos on their boards and wheels. That, Hedges says, is because they’re exactly the same thing. “Put a sticker on it, call it a totally different name, and start selling.”

That’s exactly true, actually. The PhunkeeDuck guys don’t even deny it. But they’re quick to dispute the idea that theyre rebranding IO Hawk’s board. “The owner of IO Hawk went around telling everyone he was the inventor of this product,” PhunkeeDuck co-founder Matthew Waxman says, referring to IO Hawk CEO John Soibatian.“That’s just completely false.”

PhunkeeDuck and IO Hawk are the two biggest players in this nascent scooter market, but there are many others. There’s Oxboard, Cyboard, Scoot, Future Foot, Monorover, Airboard, Freego, Esway, Airwheel, iEZWay, Overoad, and a hundred names more along the lines of Two Wheels Smart Self Balancing Scooters Drifting Board Electric (blue).

The real story doesn’t begin with IO Hawk or PhunkeeDuck. It begins, as just about any modern technology story does, in China.

Depending on which one you buy, you’ll pay anywhere from $600 to $1,800 for a scooter. But make no mistake: They’re all the same. The designs may vary slightly—sometimes the faux hubcaps are shaped in Mercedes-like triangles, sometimes there are five or six spokes—but like painting tiger stripes on your kitty cat, nobodys getting fooled here.

The real story of the scooter doesn’t begin with IO Hawk or PhunkeeDuck. It begins, as just about any modern technology story does, in China.

Made in China

Before we go any further, I need to admit that I don’t know, positively, where the scooter comes from. The Chinese manufacturing industry moves so quickly and with so little documentation that it’s basically impossible to fact-check any company’s cries of “first!”

But here’s what I think I know: Theres a company called Chic Robotics, which is also known as Hangzhou Chic Intelligent Technology Co., Ltd, and I think it invented the scooter. (There’s a scooter called the Hovertrax that predates it slightly, but it’s not quite the same thing.) Chic’s logo—the horizontal line on top of an oval that just so happens to look like “IO” when rotated 90 degrees—is plastered all over most versions of the board. And Chic’s name keeps coming up when you talk to the people selling the thing.

The company was founded in 2013, born in connection with China’s Zhejiang University. It was created to make stuff, obviously, but also to champion IP protection in China, to improve patents and copyrights and and foster what the company calls “sustainable innovation.” It holds a series of patents related to the scooter, and has diligently (and apparently pointlessly) attempted to protect them.

Chic’s first scooter was called the Smart S1. It debuted in August of 2014, with a goofy commercial that almost certainly isn’t meant to be goofy. It shows a man walking down the hallway, laden with heavy books and a heavy heart, before finally being saved by the smooth ride of the Smart S1. It’s like a bizarro take on a heartwarming Coke commercial.

In the fall of 2014, Chic took the S1 to the Canton Fair, China’s largest trade show. This semi-annual extravaganza attracts more than 180,000 buyers from around the world, there to see tens of thousands of Chinese exporters hawk their wares.

In China, the reward for being first is still just being first to be copied.

Chic’s supply of scooters disappeared quicklyeverybody wanted one. Soon, people were riding them all over the gigantic convention center. The hordes of buyers and suppliers were all over the Smart S1. Distributors across the world noticed, and so did other factories in China. Before long Alibaba was littered with manufacturers offering the same board—often using the same images and promotional videos, their logos hastily Photoshopped over Chic’s.

If you’ve seen one…

This manufacturing virality, where as soon as something is created it is immediately everywhere, isn’t unique to two-wheeled self-balancing scooters. It’s how Chinese factories make and sell everything from iPhone chargers to televisions to headphones. Or e-cigarettes, another recent favorite Justin Bieber accessory: Just about every brand is the same thing with a different label. “All you have to do is make a phone call to one of the six manufacturers or so in China that are producing these e-cigarettes,” says James Monsees, CEO of e-cigaretteer Pax Labs, “and youd say how much? And oh, I want it to be an orange tip on the end and say Orange on the packaging. Its an hour-long conversation…and youre in the e-cig business.”

In many ways, that’s one of China’s greatest assets as an industrial country. From iPhones to Harry Potter to Starbucks to basically the whole country of Austria, China’s ability to take anything and build it faster, cheaper, and maybe even better, is without equal. But China has made clear that it doesn’t just want to copy Apple anymore—it wants the next Apple to be Chinese. That would require better patent protection, and better regulation from the government. “The political economic institutions and system in China make it so entrepreneurs cant make profit by developing novel innovation,” then-Georgia Tech professor Dan Breznitz told the New York Times in 2011. As it is, the reward for being first is still just being first to be copied.

Because the Chinese manufacturing industry is so centralized, anything new spreads like crazy through the supply chain. One manufacturer creates a product; another reverse-engineers it and makes it too. And that next company can make it cheaper and faster, because it has no R&D costs. In most cases, this endless game of product-telephone makes the product worse.

Jeff Wells, who sells a scooter he calls The Scoot, ticks off a number of corners he’s seen factories cut. “Weaker motors, not as reliable batteries, gyro boards, improper motherboard design,” Wells says. “There are a lot of areas where they can shortcut.” He laughs when I tell him about my board’s nasty tendency to randomly start shivering uncontrollably, before spinning completely out of control and shutting down.

The PhunkeeDuck costs $1,499.99, and there’s a waiting list to get one.

“You probably, right now, have five manufacturers in China that are beginning to make these,” Wells says. He’s been importing products from construction materials to medical equipment for years, and says the key is quality control. “Youve got to tour the facilities, youve got to see them manufacturing over the long-term basis.” Because when factories take shortcuts, the problems that crop up can be hard to see in an online listing, and they can be devastating.

That’s why the Scoot costs $695, when you can buy a seemingly identical device on Alibaba for $200 or so. (He thinks the magic price is somewhere in the $500 range, though, and says we’ll be there by Christmas.) The craziest part? Wells is actually leaving a lot of money on the table. IO Hawk, an LA-based company with a virtually identical story (and product), sells its scooter for $1,799.99 and still can’t keep up with demand. The PhunkeeDuck costs $1,499.99, and there’s a waiting list to get one.

Lets talk about the PhunkeeDuck. Its sold by PhunkeeTree, a New York-based company that began as two guys repackaging and re-branding phone cases and chargers for stores like Nordstrom and Forever 21. Last year, the guys went to the Hong Kong Electronics Show, to talk to their existing suppliers and to see what else they could add to their selection of chargers, cases, and cables. “While we were there we actually found this other factory that for the first time debuted this product to a select few,” Waxman says. “And we happened to be in the right place at the right time, so we started working with them to customize our own version of it.”

“Customize,” at least in this first version, consists of putting PhunkeeDuck stickers on the board and its box. Waxman and co-founder Maxx Yellin say they’re working with the factory—which they won’t name—to modify it in more significant ways, and says patents are a-pending. But they won’t share details yet.

Josh Valcarcel/WIRED

IO Hawk is a step ahead, having launched first—at CES in January—and already offering a few improvements in its model. Theres a metal frame, for one thing, which can take a heavier load. It can handle up to 400 pounds, though they don’t advertise it as quite that high. The company is also developing custom firmware for the device to make it run better. And, like PhunkeeDuck, IO Hawk claims it has big ideas it’s not ready to share for fear they’ll be stolen.

While they wait for patents to be granted and modifications to be implemented, though, this scooter just keeps popping up in unexpected places under new names. And with every celebrity appearance, every Instagram of Chris Brown dancing or Nick Jonas rolling into a pool, the pace picks up even more. After PhunkeeTree managed to get Kendall Jenner a board, thanks to a well-placed friend in LA, all it took was one Instagram of her being a little bit too confident on the board for the PhunkeeDuck to blow up. (That gram alone netted 1.1 million likes.) Celebs starting hitting them up left and right for samples, and as they shared their adventures on social media more people wanted to try them too. “We didnt have to ask them to post,” Waxman says. “They just loved it so much that Chris Brown was riding it around, and Wiz Khalifa was using it onstage.”

One of their most consistent askers was the rapper Soulja Boy, who finally got a PhunkeeDuck after months of pestering. A couple of days after his board arrived, a new device hit the market: The Soulja Board. $1,500, available in green and red. Its site, souljaboard.com, was put together so quickly there’s still dummy text on the About page.

“He starts posting, hey guys come buy my Souldja Board,” Waxman says. “And he’s standing on our PhunkeeDuck!”

Read more: http://ift.tt/2esRPIZ

from Viral News HQ http://ift.tt/2oLFm7k via Viral News HQ

#IFTTT #Viral News HQ

[trendingnewsb]

The Weird Origin Story of the Viral, Dangerous Hoverboard

A few weeks ago, I bought a new toy. $595 on Amazon, Prime shipping, showed up 36 hours after I clicked buy. It weighs 22 pounds, and, after about an hour of practice, I had it going top speed, about 6 mph. (It feels faster than it sounds.) I’ve fallen off it a million times, often after it does this weird seizure-crash thing that I cant figure out how to stop or predict.

My new toy is called a Two Wheels Smart Self Balancing Scooters Drifting Board Electric (blue), and it’s kind of like a Segway—but with no handlebars. It’s not a skateboard, but it’s kind of like a sideways skateboard? It’s like a scooter, ish? The world has mostly decided to call it a hoverboard. I don’t know what to call it.

Whatever it is, I love it. And it’s all Justin Bieber’s fault. It just looked so fun in his Instagrams.

All it took was one Instagram of Kendall Jenner on the board for the PhunkeeDuck to blow up.

If you’ve been paying attention, you’ve seen it before. It’s sort of a phenomenon. Here is a (very) partial list of celebrities who have tweeted, Instagrammed, or YouTubed themselves riding one in the last couple of months: The Biebs himself, Chris Brown (who is awesome at it), Nick Jonas, Zedd, Soulja Boy, Kendall Jenner, JR Smith, Nicki Minaj, Wiz Khalifa, Nina Agdal, David Ortiz, Karim Benzema, and Skrillex. It’s been on the Tonight Show, and showed up at the NBA Finals.

Every time anyone uploads a video or picture of this scooter, the commenters all want to know two things: What’s that called, and where can I buy it?

That’s where it gets weird.

What’s in a name?

In late May, in front of a Fleet Week audience of military members, Jamie Foxx rolled onto the Tonight Show stage on a scooter. Once he figured out how to get off it, Foxx explained to Jimmy Fallon, “It’s, uh, a PhunkeeDuck,” as he rolled the board toward himself to make sure he had the name right. Fallon got on it, and did what everyone does their first time: wobbled jelly-legged for a minute, and then slowly inched around before getting comfortable.

That whole scene really annoys IO Hawk’s Curtis Hedges. Because, he says, that scooter was not a PhunkeeDuck. It was an IO Hawk, his companys product. Hedges tells me to look closely at the wheels, where there’s clearly an “IO” logo in the center. He’s laughing, too, as if he can hardly comprehend the idea that PhunkeeDuck isn’t stealing. And he’s right: PhunkeeDucks look just like IO Hawks, right down to the IO logos on their boards and wheels. That, Hedges says, is because they’re exactly the same thing. “Put a sticker on it, call it a totally different name, and start selling.”

That’s exactly true, actually. The PhunkeeDuck guys don’t even deny it. But they’re quick to dispute the idea that theyre rebranding IO Hawk’s board. “The owner of IO Hawk went around telling everyone he was the inventor of this product,” PhunkeeDuck co-founder Matthew Waxman says, referring to IO Hawk CEO John Soibatian.“That’s just completely false.”

PhunkeeDuck and IO Hawk are the two biggest players in this nascent scooter market, but there are many others. There’s Oxboard, Cyboard, Scoot, Future Foot, Monorover, Airboard, Freego, Esway, Airwheel, iEZWay, Overoad, and a hundred names more along the lines of Two Wheels Smart Self Balancing Scooters Drifting Board Electric (blue).

The real story doesn’t begin with IO Hawk or PhunkeeDuck. It begins, as just about any modern technology story does, in China.

Depending on which one you buy, you’ll pay anywhere from $600 to $1,800 for a scooter. But make no mistake: They’re all the same. The designs may vary slightly—sometimes the faux hubcaps are shaped in Mercedes-like triangles, sometimes there are five or six spokes—but like painting tiger stripes on your kitty cat, nobodys getting fooled here.

The real story of the scooter doesn’t begin with IO Hawk or PhunkeeDuck. It begins, as just about any modern technology story does, in China.

Made in China

Before we go any further, I need to admit that I don’t know, positively, where the scooter comes from. The Chinese manufacturing industry moves so quickly and with so little documentation that it’s basically impossible to fact-check any company’s cries of “first!”

But here’s what I think I know: Theres a company called Chic Robotics, which is also known as Hangzhou Chic Intelligent Technology Co., Ltd, and I think it invented the scooter. (There’s a scooter called the Hovertrax that predates it slightly, but it’s not quite the same thing.) Chic’s logo—the horizontal line on top of an oval that just so happens to look like “IO” when rotated 90 degrees—is plastered all over most versions of the board. And Chic’s name keeps coming up when you talk to the people selling the thing.

The company was founded in 2013, born in connection with China’s Zhejiang University. It was created to make stuff, obviously, but also to champion IP protection in China, to improve patents and copyrights and and foster what the company calls “sustainable innovation.” It holds a series of patents related to the scooter, and has diligently (and apparently pointlessly) attempted to protect them.

Chic’s first scooter was called the Smart S1. It debuted in August of 2014, with a goofy commercial that almost certainly isn’t meant to be goofy. It shows a man walking down the hallway, laden with heavy books and a heavy heart, before finally being saved by the smooth ride of the Smart S1. It’s like a bizarro take on a heartwarming Coke commercial.

In the fall of 2014, Chic took the S1 to the Canton Fair, China’s largest trade show. This semi-annual extravaganza attracts more than 180,000 buyers from around the world, there to see tens of thousands of Chinese exporters hawk their wares.

In China, the reward for being first is still just being first to be copied.

Chic’s supply of scooters disappeared quicklyeverybody wanted one. Soon, people were riding them all over the gigantic convention center. The hordes of buyers and suppliers were all over the Smart S1. Distributors across the world noticed, and so did other factories in China. Before long Alibaba was littered with manufacturers offering the same board—often using the same images and promotional videos, their logos hastily Photoshopped over Chic’s.

If you’ve seen one…

This manufacturing virality, where as soon as something is created it is immediately everywhere, isn’t unique to two-wheeled self-balancing scooters. It’s how Chinese factories make and sell everything from iPhone chargers to televisions to headphones. Or e-cigarettes, another recent favorite Justin Bieber accessory: Just about every brand is the same thing with a different label. “All you have to do is make a phone call to one of the six manufacturers or so in China that are producing these e-cigarettes,” says James Monsees, CEO of e-cigaretteer Pax Labs, “and youd say how much? And oh, I want it to be an orange tip on the end and say Orange on the packaging. Its an hour-long conversation…and youre in the e-cig business.”

In many ways, that’s one of China’s greatest assets as an industrial country. From iPhones to Harry Potter to Starbucks to basically the whole country of Austria, China’s ability to take anything and build it faster, cheaper, and maybe even better, is without equal. But China has made clear that it doesn’t just want to copy Apple anymore—it wants the next Apple to be Chinese. That would require better patent protection, and better regulation from the government. “The political economic institutions and system in China make it so entrepreneurs cant make profit by developing novel innovation,” then-Georgia Tech professor Dan Breznitz told the New York Times in 2011. As it is, the reward for being first is still just being first to be copied.

Because the Chinese manufacturing industry is so centralized, anything new spreads like crazy through the supply chain. One manufacturer creates a product; another reverse-engineers it and makes it too. And that next company can make it cheaper and faster, because it has no R&D costs. In most cases, this endless game of product-telephone makes the product worse.

Jeff Wells, who sells a scooter he calls The Scoot, ticks off a number of corners he’s seen factories cut. “Weaker motors, not as reliable batteries, gyro boards, improper motherboard design,” Wells says. “There are a lot of areas where they can shortcut.” He laughs when I tell him about my board’s nasty tendency to randomly start shivering uncontrollably, before spinning completely out of control and shutting down.

The PhunkeeDuck costs $1,499.99, and there’s a waiting list to get one.

“You probably, right now, have five manufacturers in China that are beginning to make these,” Wells says. He’s been importing products from construction materials to medical equipment for years, and says the key is quality control. “Youve got to tour the facilities, youve got to see them manufacturing over the long-term basis.” Because when factories take shortcuts, the problems that crop up can be hard to see in an online listing, and they can be devastating.

That’s why the Scoot costs $695, when you can buy a seemingly identical device on Alibaba for $200 or so. (He thinks the magic price is somewhere in the $500 range, though, and says we’ll be there by Christmas.) The craziest part? Wells is actually leaving a lot of money on the table. IO Hawk, an LA-based company with a virtually identical story (and product), sells its scooter for $1,799.99 and still can’t keep up with demand. The PhunkeeDuck costs $1,499.99, and there’s a waiting list to get one.

Lets talk about the PhunkeeDuck. Its sold by PhunkeeTree, a New York-based company that began as two guys repackaging and re-branding phone cases and chargers for stores like Nordstrom and Forever 21. Last year, the guys went to the Hong Kong Electronics Show, to talk to their existing suppliers and to see what else they could add to their selection of chargers, cases, and cables. “While we were there we actually found this other factory that for the first time debuted this product to a select few,” Waxman says. “And we happened to be in the right place at the right time, so we started working with them to customize our own version of it.”

“Customize,” at least in this first version, consists of putting PhunkeeDuck stickers on the board and its box. Waxman and co-founder Maxx Yellin say they’re working with the factory—which they won’t name—to modify it in more significant ways, and says patents are a-pending. But they won’t share details yet.

Josh Valcarcel/WIRED

IO Hawk is a step ahead, having launched first—at CES in January—and already offering a few improvements in its model. Theres a metal frame, for one thing, which can take a heavier load. It can handle up to 400 pounds, though they don’t advertise it as quite that high. The company is also developing custom firmware for the device to make it run better. And, like PhunkeeDuck, IO Hawk claims it has big ideas it’s not ready to share for fear they’ll be stolen.

While they wait for patents to be granted and modifications to be implemented, though, this scooter just keeps popping up in unexpected places under new names. And with every celebrity appearance, every Instagram of Chris Brown dancing or Nick Jonas rolling into a pool, the pace picks up even more. After PhunkeeTree managed to get Kendall Jenner a board, thanks to a well-placed friend in LA, all it took was one Instagram of her being a little bit too confident on the board for the PhunkeeDuck to blow up. (That gram alone netted 1.1 million likes.) Celebs starting hitting them up left and right for samples, and as they shared their adventures on social media more people wanted to try them too. “We didnt have to ask them to post,” Waxman says. “They just loved it so much that Chris Brown was riding it around, and Wiz Khalifa was using it onstage.”

One of their most consistent askers was the rapper Soulja Boy, who finally got a PhunkeeDuck after months of pestering. A couple of days after his board arrived, a new device hit the market: The Soulja Board. $1,500, available in green and red. Its site, souljaboard.com, was put together so quickly there’s still dummy text on the About page.

“He starts posting, hey guys come buy my Souldja Board,” Waxman says. “And he’s standing on our PhunkeeDuck!”

Read more: http://ift.tt/2esRPIZ

from Viral News HQ http://ift.tt/2oLFm7k via Viral News HQ

#IFTTT #Viral News HQ