#also what is the explanation for when you start devolving in drawing something you have not once stopped drawing...

[skunkes]

google search results for kitties cuddling

#a doodley #i can barely keep my eyes open im crawling to bed #cow al comes home to them like dis is what i was getting at earlier #also what is the explanation for when you start devolving in drawing something you have not once stopped drawing... #bc ive been drawing both smunker and talon's middle parts (in their hair) year round and suddenly it keeps looking weird and off #or feeling wrong and i cant do it...whats the deaaal....idgi... #also he's not biting smunker his fangs are just Out

[characteroulette]

A study on prosecutors -- (previous) (next)

Achtung, baby! It's time to talk about Klavier Gavin.

So, I've all ready delved into Klavier a few times, but hopefully I can lay out all my cards efficiently right here. I think the way he's presented to us is really interesting because it is, initially, so hard to get a bead on this man. Is he just here to laugh at us? Is he really here for the truth and nothing more? What is up with him??

The answer is pretty simple: he's doing the best he can under the weight of everything that's been laid over him.

We're introduced to Klavier in a quick but really impactful manner; he looks almost exactly like Kristoph, our former boss whom we just put away for murder. He says his iconic, "I'm used to being stared at by the ladies, but this is the first time I've felt this way with a man" (unhinged of him, really) and then helps us onto the crime scene before disappearing without so much as an explanation. "Ask the wind; I'll be riding on it!" indeed, sir. And here's where I admit something rather embarrassing; I totally glossed over this as a kid. It never occurred to me that this was such a wild thing to say to someone before dipping. Maybe I was as distracted as Apollo by the fact that this man looked too much like Kristoph? Maybe I was just immediately distracted by Ema and the crime scene? I can't remember! All I know is that this line being iconic is only something I figured out later because it never really registered to me.

But anyway, the impression we're left with is that he's definitely some flavour of involved. We just don't know how until the start of the trial.

Klavier starts the trial off with a bang. Music, showboating, this man's got it all! It almost seems like he's putting on a show rather than doing his actual job up until he calls his first witness. Apollo being fed up immediately with him is then replaced by the realisation that oh, he actually can do his job. And well, too. More questions about him surface; why hasn't he been in a trial for seven years? Why are his remarks towards us laced in such bitterness after that greeting we got from him? Why hasn't he even brought up his brother once??

It's intrigue which draws you in. It's intrigue and the desire to find out what the heck his deal is.

Perhaps it's because he gets to watch us and Apollo fumble our way through our first two objections that his tone shifts. Or maybe it's because Trucy decides to hold herself for ransom to buy some time; either way, Klavier starts to suddenly have way more fun in the second half of the day's trial. It's a shift in the atmosphere you can feel, even as we all devolve into absurdity. (He also just lets Trucy get away with that. In a single move, in a single day, he proves himself so different than any other prosecutor we've ever faced before. We're still wary of him, prosecutors are meant to be our opposition, but he's handily disproved any of our initial misgivings about him. He's far more accommodating than he should rightly be. And yet that bitterness he held stays at the forefront of our minds; there's something not quite right here.)

Of course, as the investigation picks back up, we learn what it is we were missing this whole time: Klavier was the prosecutor what got Phoenix disbarred. The one who was working that case and proved Phoenix used forged evidence, even. It puts some of his actions into perspective. It certainly explains that bitterness, considering he still never even mentions his brother. But it places us into an even more confusing position. Are we supposed to like this guy? Is he pulling the wool over our eyes and playing a long con? What is it this guy wants??

Running into him again and him throwing yet another flirt our way doesn't help answer anything. He's far too willing to be nice to us when we're meant to be at odds. He's nice, even; not just civil, but nice.

The second trial day helps cement his character: what Klavier wants, first and foremost, is to uncover the truth. (It makes sense, of course, once we learn the context. After that disaster of a first trial, in which he was too young and reckless and still didn't really win, of course the truth would become a priority for him. He couldn't get close to it the first time around. He's gotta make up for those past seven years of running.)

He pushes you towards this truth, even willing to lead you to it by the hand. It makes you wonder if you should be trusting him at all. He's the prosecutor, he's your opponent. You're meant to fight him, not work together so immediately. There has to be something more here; he's a prosecutor, he got Phoenix disbarred, his brother was a murderer.

But, no. Klavier proves himself an ally before the second case is even done.

Klavier proves himself terribly strange as he then provides us tickets to his concert and makes us pay for them.

Case 3 is usually where we get a deeper look into the prosecution's character and here is no exception. Klavier's general air of ease and showboating reveals itself to be a carefully constructed act, one not entirely false but one not entirely truthful, either. His meltdown at his concert going awry speaks of the perfectionism he's endured, of his own sense of pride. He's stressed out and his pretty little mask slips a bit, but it only helps you and Apollo rest easier because this man isn't as perfect as he tries to present himself as. It's the type of slip that makes you realise he's more human than rock star god or whatever.

He is also ridiculously loyal, a trait that gets tested continuously from here on out.

Of course he doesn't want to believe anyone in his band could have done the murder. But his refusal to acknowledge what Apollo witnessed from a dying man still stings. It's still baffling how he can argue with a straight face that Machi managed to perform this crime, although that's less an issue with him and more an issue in this case. His near belligerence in believing Apollo is understandable, as is Apollo's own eagerness to solve this case going wrong as he accidentally throws more suspicion onto his client. This time, it's not a hand to hold Klavier offers us, it's a curt smile and the incorrect truth.

When Daryan is implicated, we get to see even more of that mask slip.

Speaking with Klavier in his office is such an interesting scene. So many things are happening here, from seeing him actively annoyed at the agents at the other end of his call to this small show of trust of sharing details of this case. It struck me even then that he called himself a "scourge prosecutor"; why would he consider himself like that? All he's done so far is get a man disbarred for using forged evidence and help us towards the truth in the previous case. What sorts of regrets has he been ruminating on to call himself that? He's done nothing but work on his band over the past seven years. (He's done nothing but run these past seven years.) I'm not entirely sure when I started actually liking Klavier. Even now, I'm not really sure I even do like him. What I can say, though, is this conversation with him in his office definitely made me sympathise with him and find him annoying in equal measures. He boasts a big game of wanting the ladies to notice him, of treating each of his guitars like they're his lovers, yet he calls himself a scourge and is running desperately away from something. There's something so deeply complicated in him that I can't help but offer him my understanding.

The second day of the trial, things go pretty wrong pretty quick. Klavier knows that we can't convict Daryan of this crime without some decisive piece of evidence. He only offers his hand to us at the last minute, wanting to believe in his friend until the bitter end. It's right here that you realise why it is he hasn't brought up his brother once so far; he can't face what it is his brother's done yet. There's some sort of proof missing that he needs before he can face this terrible truth.

Perhaps he was right to call himself a scourge. Somehow, it doesn't make you trust him any less.

But we need answers. And the final case is willing to give them.

It seems, at first, completely unrelated to the bigger picture. Of course it would. Phoenix has been a goddamn enigma this whole game. But as the trial goes on, you and Klavier both start to suspect that this is related to something big. That there's a darkness lurking beneath this case and its name isn't easy to speak. When Vera takes the stand and stares at Klavier like she's somehow haunted by a ghost of him, the pieces should click into place right there. They don't, because this game is great at leading you to isane conclusions that you brush off because no that's crazy they wouldn't do that, but they really should.

It's right here, though, in which Klavier really cracks and lays all that pent up bitterness upon you; this girl and her father were the ones who forged evidence for Phoenix Wright.

Smash cut to that fateful trial seven years ago.

Young Klavier is such an interesting snapshot. He's arrogant and full of drive, but woefully lacking in experience. His head's on the right track, you can see some of the foundations for the prosecutor you've gotten to know over the past few trials, but he's so much more reckless. He's charging ahead without putting much thought behind his actions and getting absolutely schooled by Phoenix. (Side note, **this** is my favourite Phoenix ever. He's so confident and sure of himself!! He's capable and doing well on his own!! He's the natural evolution to his seasoned attorney after the original trilogy. He's still a pretty goofy and prone to panicking, but god, I wish they'd taken cues from this version of him instead of his original trilogy self. This is the Phoenix I always knew he would grow into being and we'll never get him outside of this one case. An absolute travesty.)

Unfortunately, his absolute loyalty is still there. And we'll soon find out it's his ultimate downfall.

There's something so sinister about the way Klavier traps us in a corner. The way he forces our hand into presenting that diary page. And then he near preens as he goes on to prove that it's been forged. He's so damn proud of himself for being able to catch this, for having that tip off in his back off. There's a reason why I always write him as having gleefully ruined Phoenix; it really does come off that way.

We the players know it's a mistake. It's not right. And Klavier, though loathe to admit it, knows deep down that there was something off about it, too.

Finally, finally, he has to confront his brother. He has to put that loyalty on the line and break himself to pieces watching his brother abuse that connection they share.

It really is a break, too. Apollo's line of pulling the darkness from Klavier, of helping Klavier out of that pain, of then shouting for Klavier not to give in to his brother's manipulations, I really felt all of it. Klavier is struggling against his loyalty, against what he wants to believe and what he knows has to be the truth. He doesn't get to lead us to the truth this time, but he does get to throw in his own words and confront his brother on what happened.

(Another sticking point for me; why did Kristoph want to absolutely destroy Klavier in his first ever trial? Klavier says he became a prosecutor because it was supposed to be the both of them, finding the truth and working together. It was supposed to be the both of them being brothers, doing good. But to have that forgery, Kristoph had to have asked for it well in advance. Kristoph had to have planned to crush his brother well before he was suddenly fired and replaced by Phoenix. It's so telling that Klavier was willing to do anything, to believe his brother until the end, when Kristoph wanted to crush him from the start. At least, as far as my interpretation of what this could mean goes.)

His speech at the end, of how Kristoph made the law about himself and absolutely lost his way, is great. Good catharsis moment for him that goes unaddressed and unexplored forevermore. I feel it's also undercut a bit by Apollo not having anything to say, but it's still really good. It may have taken a while to fully unpack what the heck he's about, but I can confidently say that Klavier is one hell of a character. His complications, his contradictions, the faces he puts on for us and then takes off; all of it gives him a very special place in my heart. I may want to punt him into the moon sometimes, but I do really love just how fascinating of a write he is.

Now if only he would stop jerking me around and be a more courteous muse...

#Momo writes stuff #Ace Attorney #Klavier Gavin #Apollo Justice spoilers #Spoilers #Character analysis be like #To no one's surprise but my own #I had a LOT to say about Klavier #Is it obvious that I RPed him at one point lol #Specifically young Klav but still #Woof #I have so many mixed feelings on this man

[gofancyninjaworld]

Tbh, sometimes you're way too hardpressed on intradiagetic explanations in opm that you don't much factor in extradiagetic explanations.

Murata puts emphasis on detail yes, but I'm pretty sure there are just instances where he draws something doesn't have a deeper explanation behind. Like, idk, maybe Murata just got better at drawing leather, not bc Saitama got gifted better boots by Genos to replace his "plastic" ones. Tatsumaki doesn't wear pants isn't bc she's stupid, it's bc Murata is kind of a pervert.

Or like how Fubuki's boobs got bigger over the course of the manga, what, you're gonna tell us she got a boob job in between? :/

True, all analyses devolve into absurdity when followed too far. However, I hope I can justify my approach in this specific instance beyond 'it's fun', which is a sufficient answer to all things fannish.

First of all, it is true that a lot of the changes in the characters' appearances derives from Murata making stylistic changes. In particular, when he started drawing One-Punch Man, he was very keen to break out of the expressions and visual shorthands he'd developed during Eyeshield 21 (see volume 1 of One-Bukoru for more on that). It would seem that in time, he's developed an OPM visual shorthand that still leaves him scope to present the characters semi-realistically when the story demands it.

Let us stay outside the story a little while longer. It would make no sense to consider an intradiegetic explanation for Saitama's clothing in the webcomic. ONE draws clothes on his characters because they normally need some sort of clothing -- once he gets a look for them, that's it. Except where the choice of clothing is plot-relevant (like Teru choosing a terrible t-shirt for Mob), 'clothes were provided' is all that one need to say about it. Murata is very different in this regard. Outside of his art, he has a lot of interest in clothes: for example, he regularly promotes his uncle's kimono store on his Twitter. He spends considerable time referencing outfits for characters (and it's a fun sport for fans to find -- and price up -- those references). He spends a lot of time agonizing what a chracer's outfit says about them. See, for example, this titbit from his 11 June 2018 stream on King's clothing. His awareness of how clothing is an expression of a character's personality and the social signalling it provides has made it explicitly into the text, where Saitama asks Genos if his clothes make him look poor.

Therefore, let us get the first thing straight: the state and type of clothing has meaning within the context of the OPM manga, much more so than it does in the webcomic.

Let us consider the second party in this. Within the manga, it is canonical that Genos is well dressed -- and has been becoming more fashionable with time. Conflict between himself and the shoddily-dressed Saitama would seem likely. Let us consider what we see, therefore.

It is canonical that Genos cleans and repairs Saitama's clothing, including his precious hero uniform. He even goes so far as to have it professionally tended to on occasion (complete with dismay when Saitama gives it away...). He is very invested in Saitama looking his best.

Building on this, Saitama's cheaply-sourced outfits are disliked by Genos. When Saitama asked about looking poor, Genos changed the subject as he wasn't comfortable with telling Saitama bluntly that yes, he does look *that* poor. Genos being unhappy with Saitama's appearance extends to that hero uniform, which Genos has offered to replace as a gift (see 'Road to Hero').

So, we have in place, without an ounce of speculation, a man who dresses cheaply and badly. We have his closest associate, his disciple, being well dressed and distressed on occasion at his master's appearance. It is also well established that his disciple actively tries to improve things for said man.

Given that Genos's care extends to repairing Saitama's clothing, it is not unreasonable to impute that at least some of the improved fit and appearance of Saitama's wardrobe in the story is due to Genos's efforts.

Onto the other side of Saitama fitting his clothes better: food. It is established both within the text and supplemenatary to the text (ONE's interview in the Hero Encyclopedia) that Saitama had difficulty on consistently affording enough to eat before he met Genos. At times, he was even glad for food handouts from grateful people.

Since Genos's arrival, Saitama eats three good meals a day (eating three times a day is non-optional according to Saitama, what is optional is how much to eat: a banana will do if there is no other food available), both because Genos cooks and because pro-hero employment has meant a steady paycheck. It is not plausible that two months of eating well after being undernourished should have no effect whatsoever on how he bulks out.

Notwithstanding changes in Murata's art, it is unreasonable to presume that all the changes in Saitama's appearance can only be due to the art changes. I agree that one should not be overly speculative in one's analyses, but where there is good grounding for inferences, failing to make them is poor reading (1).

Then and now

If you're looking for extradiegetic readings of OPM, I can't recommend better than the Youtuber keatsta https://www.youtube.com/@keatsta2928/videos A long time fan of One-Punch Man, he's unfortunately not been reading the manga since chapter 165, but is still reviewing the webcomic. He's always got something interesting and insightful to say.

As I hope you're able to tell, I do consider the context and authorial intent in deciding how heavily to lean into an intradiegetic reading. Extradiegetic readings often carry the air of objectivity, but that is not necessarily justifiable or even the point. I'll give an example from my own life. Back when I was a snarky teenager, I attended one of my grandfather's art exhibitions. At the reception, I happened to overhear an art critic explaining to someone the signficance of of my grandfather's use of yellows in a painting. I thought (but thankfully did not say) 'how silly -- Grandpa just happened to have a lot of yellow paints to use up at the time.' I knew this to be so because I'd been around at the time he'd painted that picture. My grandfather has been gone for getting on a decade now, and I have no idea where the painting is hanging but I hope that its bold, yet nuanced use of yellows is stil speaking powerfully to someone.

Aside

(1) The inference that Genos has had a hand in improving Saitama's appearance would be 100% uncontroversial if he were a woman and Saitama's girlfriend. It is a deliberately jarring element of One-Punch Man that Genos has the concern for Saitama's appearance and well-being more normally reserved for romantic partners. Without necessarily being romantic.

Like I was saying, beware false objectivity. It often conceals a bias.

#OPM #asks #Genos #Saitama #extradiegesis and its abuse #yes for sure it's damn annoying when people try to use their headcanon as fact #but refusing to make good inferences is also illogical

[five-rivers]

Danger First

Chapter 10

.

@pocketramblr :)

.

One day - and not even a whole day, because of travel time and Inko wanted Izuku home for dinner- simply wasn't enough time to master a quirk. Although he could turn Float on and off, now. So, they made plans to come back next week, and the next, up until the sports festival. Which. Wow. Really was only two weeks away.

Izuku had never realized how close to the beginning of the school year it was.

He was going to die.

"You're not going to die," said Mr. Yagi. "I'm not going to say the sports festival isn't important, because it is, it's one of the best ways to make professional connections for students, but not doing well isn't the end of the world, especially not in your first year. No one expects you to be perfectly polished."

"But," said Izuku, "I'm supposed to be the next you! I've got to stand out, right?"

Mr. Yagi looked very guilty. "I... may have given you that impression when we were first training, yes. But, since then, with all my research into the past holders... few of them were popular, flashy heroes. If you want to walk the same path as me, that's great. But you don't have to. Even I didn't really start that chapter of my life until after college."

Izuku looked down at his hands, letting silence fill the space between them as he contemplated Mr. Yagi's words. "This isn't about me manifesting One for All differently, is it?"

"What? No, no of course not, my boy. I mean, it certainly helped me come to this conclusion, I wouldn't have done so much research without it! But I certainly hope I would have come to the same conclusion eventually, even so."

"Okay..." said Izuku, still dubious.

"I mean it," protested Mr. Yagi. "Most of my work is essentially underground, you know. There's a reason the battle trial was what it was."

"H-huh? You? Underground? But you're so recognizable!"

"Am I? I firmly believe in bringing all my resources to bear in the fight against evil! Ha ha!"

His laugh devolved into a cough, and he fumbled for a handkerchief. But he recovered quickly enough.

"I guess that makes sense," said Izuku, cautiously, once he thought Mr. Yagi wasn't going to start coughing again.

"You didn't think I stayed number one by popularity alone, did you?"

"I- the formulas the Hero Commission uses to determine rankings are secret, and it only includes spotlight heroes, so when I extrapolated the hero billboard rankings, yes, I assigned a high weight to popularity. There were always some discrepancies between my predictions and the end results, but I figured I missed some events, or the commission assigned them different values…"

"That's quite impressive, my boy. But, though popularity is a factor, the HPSC does take unpublicized fights and rescues into account. Assuming you report them…"

That was the second time Mr. Yagi had mentioned not telling the commission something.

"Do you, um, do you do that a lot? Not tell the commission things, I mean."

"Eh? No, no, I try to stay up on my paperwork. I get a lot of help from Naomasa, though. Some heroes, especially independent ones, without an agency, do have trouble keeping up, sometimes."

"It's just… the other day you said something about not telling the commission about All for One."

"Ah," said Mr. Yagi. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. "You're quite right. How should I put this… The HPSC knows All for One exists, and I have made them generally aware of his modern exploits. I haven't told them about his ability to give quirks, though they may know through other avenues, there are certain battles I've had with him that I haven't told them about, and they do not know about One for All."

“Why not?”

“Villains aren’t the only ones who seek power,” said Mr. Yagi. “The HPSC provides a vital service, and I think what one does matters more than why one does it, but… it is my observation that many of the people there are more concerned with personal power than doing the right thing. And positions of power and authority tend to draw in those who would abuse those things."

"Even heroics?"

"Especially heroics. The HPSC Ethics Review Board is supposed to stop that, but no system is perfect." He shook himself. "But look at me! I was trying to give you a pep talk, not saddle you with doubts about the government!"

Izuku laughed, nervously. "I mean, you've definitely distracted me from the sports festival…"

“Yes. The sports festival. Don’t worry about making a big spotlight combat debut. If you want to focus on rescue, or investigation, or the underground, I’ll support you all the way.” He paused. “You do need combat, though, because, because of-”

“All for One?”

“Yes, exactly. All for One.”

.

“Way to kill the mood, guys,” said Banjo.

“I think the mood was thoroughly dead already,” said Yoichi.

“Unlike your brother,” said En. “Ninth’s father.”

“Come on, it was just a little omission of information. It wasn’t even a lie!”

“It was definitely a lie. You’re so lucky that my relief about you not being a pedophile eclipsed my righteous fury regarding your mendacity.”

“You know, the fact that you’re delivering that completely deadpan gives me doubts about the fury part.”

“I’m mad at you.”

“You love me.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t be mad at you.”

“Hey, hey, wait a minute,” said Nana, making a ‘T’ shape with her hands. “Time out. Ninth’s father is All for One.”

“Yes,” said Yoichi, hanging his head, “I thought that had been established.”

“So, are we… What Toshinori is saying is completely valid, by the way… but, are we expecting this kid to fight his father? Is that a thing we’re doing?”

“Uh,” said Yoichi, “in our defense, we did think he was dead.”

“Maybe Eighth will get ‘im before Ninth has to deal with it,” suggested Banjo. “He’s got to have a better chance of that, now what with Fa Jin and all.” He paused. “But, you know what would give Ninth an even better chance, if he does have to fight his deadbeat dad-”

“He’s not a deadbeat,” interrupted Hikage.

“What?”

“Calling him a deadbeat would imply that he is neither supporting the Midoriyas financially nor regularly in contact with them. He is on both counts.”

“What?” squealed Bango.

“Did you miss his phone call with his father immediately following his return home after the USJ attack?”

“Oh,” said Yoichi, “no, I was very aware of my brother’s evil, evil voice. It’s just that these guys were too focused on scolding me to listen to anything I had to say. I still can’t believe he sent someone like that to attack his own son’s class.”

“Didn’t he, like, kill you?” asked En.

“No, my death was largely unrelated. You’ve got to remember, I was a chronically ill fugitive from the law with no money. Who told you that he killed me?”

Everyone looked at their immediate predecessor. Yoichi tracked the path back to Third, who had gone very stiff.

“What the heck, Third? You were there when I died. Why would you tell Hikage that?”

Third did not answer.

“Actually, what did he tell you, Hikage?

“Oh, it was very moving and heroic. It happened while you were saving a busload of metahuman orphans. You sacrificed yourself to let them get away from All for One. I even cried a little.”

“Is it weird that I’m now disappointed in myself for not dying like that?”

“Very,” said Nana.

“What were we talking about before this?” asked En.

“I have no idea,” said Banjo.

.

Izuku delayed going to class, nervous about everyone's reactions to his quirk. It wasn't that he thought they'd reject him, but more that he had no answers for the inevitable questions.

But he also didn't want to be late.

"Todoroki was so cool!" Hagakure exclaimed as he opened the classroom door. "He was all like, blam, bam, swish! And- and he checked whether or not I was there first, before attacking, which was super cool of him."

Todoroki's expression was halfway between 'statue' and 'help, I've been hit by a truck.' "Cool?"

"Very cool."

"You've grown since the first day, kero."

"Ah! Midoriya!"

All heads turned towards him. In the next second, he was hugged by several people, which was more friendly skin contact than he'd had since… ever, probably.

"Eep," he said.

"We were so worried about you," said Uraraka. "We made a group chat, after, but since you were unconscious…"

"Hm," said Monoma, "your quirk still is definitely a stockpile…"

"Monoma!" shouted Iida. "Did you join this hug just to copy quirks?"

"And what of it?"

"But speaking of quirks," said Jiro, "you can fly now? We kind of went along with it at the time, but that's kind of different from a sensory quirk."

"I know," said Izuku, "and I have no explanation."

"Maybe your quirk stockpiles danger," said Monoma, contemplatively. He rubbed his chin with one finger. "That could be why you can sense danger- you're stockpiling it. Then, when the danger gets over a certain threshold, you can release it as flight… why are you all looking at me like that?"

"Oh, nothing," drawled Kaminari. "Just that you're more thoughtful than you look, pretty boy."

"I don't want to hear that from you."

"Th-thank you, Monoma! I'll have to mention it when I go to quirk counseling next."

Which may or may not be this afternoon, depending on how Mr. Aizawa felt and- His head snapped to the door. "Mr. Aizawa's coming!"

They all rushed to their seats. The door creaked open.

"Oh my gosh, he's a mummy."

.

"Iida?"

"What is it, Midoriya?"

They were having a bit of a break during English while Present Mic cycled them through for short sessions with Hound Dog.

"I didn't have a chance to ask you earlier, but how's your brother?"

“He’s alright! It’s the first really major injury of his career, so he’s going to take it easy for the rest of the month, to make sure his engines heal properly. He’d prefer not to of course, but, ah, there is a silver lining.”

“That’s good,” said Izuku, encouragingly.

“I really shouldn’t be happy about it,” said Iida, rubbing the back of his neck, “but he’ll be able to come see me during the sports festival, and he probably would have been too busy if he were active.”

“I think it’s okay to be happy about good things, even if they happen because of bad things,” said Izuku. “It isn’t like we can go back and make the bad things not happen, after all…”

“That’s very true, Midoriya! What a mature way of thinking about things.”

Izuku didn’t know about that, but he was willing to take the compliment.

.

“Midoriya,” said Shouta, who was absolutely and unquestionably recovered enough to teach. Even if he had zoned out in the corner of the room in his sleeping bag all morning rather than trekking back to the teacher’s lounge… or teaching any of his other classes… shut up. “What are you doing at the window?”

“O-oh. Mr. Aizawa. I didn’t know you were awake?”

It was, maybe, a little unfair to single Midoriya out like that, since the entire class was standing by the window, and the way Uraraka, Sero, and Midoriya were closest to it, with Monoma a close fourth, was concerning, but Midoriya was the first one Shouta saw, and the one most likely to to cave and tell him what was going on.

“Midoriya.”

“R-right. Well, going out the door seems a little unpleasant today, so we thought we’d switch it up?”

What did that even mean?

“We were going to bring you with us, of course,” continued Midoriya.

What did that even mean?

“Out the window.”

“Um. Yes.”

“What kind of unpleasant are we talking about?”

“Battle trial unpleasant?”

Shouta groaned and hauled himself up, walking over to the door. He looked out the window and made note of all the students from other classes standing out there, circling like sharks. Great. Maybe they needed to have an assembly about respecting boundaries or whatever, especially if the people whose boundaries were being crossed were potentially traumatized.

Something to bring up at the next staff meeting he attended. Which… would probably not be soon.

Anyway.

He opened the door.

(“A mummy,” whispered someone.)

(First his kids, then these kids… he wasn’t that wrapped up.)

(Was he?)

“What are you all doing here?” he asked, voice rasping rather more than he wanted it to.

The students didn’t seem inclined to answer. Someone did mutter something about the sports festival, but it was far from the complete answer that Aizawa wanted.

“Right. Whatever. Scoping out the competition is one thing, but you are aware that class 1-A is recovering from a traumatic experience. And you’re blocking traffic. Clear off.”

The crowd slowly dispersed. Shouta sighed. He knew this would only be the first of many such incidents. He made a note to talk to Nemuri about whether or not she’d be willing to donate some of her class time to talk about public relations.

.

“You know,” said Nemuri, “if you actually rested, Recovery Girl would be able to heal you.”

“I know nothing of the sort,” said Shouta, glaring at his desk in the staff room. “I’m forgetting something.”

All Might walked in. “Er, young Aizawa,” he said. He paused for a painfully long, awkward moment. “Are you still meeting with young Midoriya today?”

“Crap.”

.

Did Izuku expect Mr. Aizawa to come to their meeting? No. The man had casts on all of his limbs. But, he hadn’t cancelled it either. So, better safe than sorry, right?

But it had been a while, now. Izuku could probably safely assume he wasn't coming after a half hour. He got up, packed his bags, and reached out for the door handle-

Only to freeze as Mr. Aizawa yanked it open and pulled Mr. Yagi into the classroom after him.

Izuku scurried back to his seat.

"Nothing physical today," croaked Mr. Aizawa. "We're going to figure out your quirk."

“O-okay,” said Izuku.

Aizawa collapsed into the seat behind the teacher's desk. “To be short, this quirk, One for All or whatever, is complete nonsense.”

“Uh,” said Mr. Yagi. “Sorry?”

“Sorry,” whispered Izuku.

“You should be. Not you, Midoriya. You’re fine.”

“Okay?”

“Right. So. You’ve got two quirks right now. Danger Sense and Float. Unless something else showed up over the weekend?”

“No, it’s, um, it is just those two right now.”

“And you’ll most likely get Smokescreen, Blackwhip, and that strength enhancement eventually. Plus two mystery quirks.”

“That is what I’ve been able to find out,” said Mr. Yagi.

“So, we have to figure out some way to get all those under a coherent umbrella that can account for the mystery quirks, and before the sports festival, so the evil immortal supervillain doesn’t notice that you have quirks just like a bunch of people he had personal beef with.”

Mr. Yagi cursed in English. “I hadn’t thought about that.”

“Yeah, I wonder what else you haven’t thought about. Maybe this year I can get Nezu to take my suggestion about doing hero names before the sports festival seriously. You know we’ve had people stalk students before because for some godforsaken reason we use their real names? I need a drink.”

“Ah, water?”

“No.”

“Young Aizawa, you’re a teacher…”

“A career choice I question daily. Midoriya, do you have any thoughts about how to make your quirk make sense in a way that won’t get you killed or abducted by the HPSC?”

“I- Does that happen?” despite his conversation with Mr. Yagi over the weekend, he still had generally positive thoughts about the hero commission.

“I have no idea. Wouldn’t put it past them.”

“Well, um, I was talking to Monoma earlier, and he said something about stockpiling danger, and how it might let out the stockpile as the energy necessary to levitate- which, really, would be a fascinating quirk if it did work that way- but I thought it might also work for Smokescreen and the strength enhancement? I mean, general responses to danger are fight, flight, or hide, so the strength enhancement is fight, Float is flight, and Smokescreen would be hide…”

“That might work. What about Blackwhip.”

“Yeah, that one has kind of stumped me.”

“Blackwhip sure is a problem,” agreed Mr. Aizawa.

.

The ghosts started laughing. “You’re a problem, Banjo,” chortled Nana.

“Come on, guys, that isn’t funny!”

"It is! It's hilarious!"

"They were just talking about All for One tracking the kid down and killing him!"

The mood sobered quickly.

"Considering that he is Ninth's father," said Hikage, "I suspect it's far too late for that."

"Yeah," said Yoichi. "But, just to be safe, and in case there are other weirdos out there, new rule: no giving him new quirks in public. Not that we can do anything about when he eventually manifests the stockpile…"

"What if he's going to die?" asked Hikage, raising his hand.

"He already got your quirk, why do you care?"

"We'd like to hear it," said Banjo, somewhat forcefully.

"Well, if he looks like he's going to die, do whatever you can to stop that from happening, I guess. But chucking a quirk he doesn't know how to use isn't always going to be the beat answer."

"Wait," said Nana. "Hold up a second. A few days ago we were talking about the potential for multiple quirk brain damage, weren't we?"

"Oh, good catch," said Yoichi. "I guess I forgot to mention it, which means Nana is the only one I'd trust babysitting my nephew in the event a quirk rewound him to elementary school age-"

"That is a suspiciously specific scenario," said En.

"-and all the rest of you are fired. You didn't even question giving him more quirks? Really?"

Hikage raised his hand. "I assumed you had discovered that Ninth had a constitution capable of handling multiple quirks, similar to yourself and your brother."

"That is true. Okay, Hikage would be another exception, but he's disqualified from babysitting for other reasons."

"That's fair."

.

"So we need something that can do all that, and has tentacles," said Izuku, squeezing his bottom lip in thought.

"Yeah," said Mr. Aizawa. "Honestly, even really dumb ideas would be welcome right now."

"Why are you looking at me?" asked Mr. Yagi.

"You know why."

There was only one creature Izuku could think of that could do all the things Izuku one day might be able to while maintaining room for the two mystery quirks. "Cthulhu."

Mr. Yagi looked mildly scandalized at the suggestion.

"Nah, it'd have to be something like eldritch. Cthulhu's trademarked in Japan, and that can give you aboveground types trouble."

"What is it a trademark for?" asked Mr. Yagi.

"Ask Midnight. I don't want to talk about it."

"Ah," said Mr. Yagi.

"The problem with that is that you currently have no justification to call it that. Now if you already had Smokescreen…"

The adults looked at him.

"... I don't think it's going to just show up like that," said Izuku.

.

"Why not?" asked Banjo, staring at En. "They practically asked you for it."

"Well, first off, I live for drama, so jot that down."

"Huh? What about me?" asked Yoichi.

"Nothing, it was just an idiom. Second…"

.

"...Right," said Aizawa. “For now, then, we’ll have to give it a temporary name, because it’s starting to get to the point in time where it’ll actually be illegal for you to not register it.” He shuffled his casts. “Yagi, start filling out those forms with what he can do currently. Midoriya, make sure you check him when he’s done. For now, we’ve got to come up with a name.”

“Um,” said Izuku. “Float’s the only one that’s really visible, so I could just call it Float?”

“Vetoed. You aren’t picking a name that the immortal supervillain knows.”

“He did seem to only refer to people by quirks unless he really hated them,” said Mr. Yagi. “Except his brother, who he always called ‘my foolish brother.’”

“Focus on the paperwork.”

“And he called himself by his quirk name as well,” mused Izuku. “Do you think it was a side effect? Quirks have document impact on people’s personalities-”

“Focus.”

“R-right. Um. Feather Fall? No, that’s part of a game. Flight Reflex?”

“Good enough for now,” said Aizawa. “Flight Reflex it is.”

#bnha #boku no hero academia #danger first #danger first au #fic #fanfic

[pinkjiminssi]

So.. About That Hickey..

I think I’m still processing all of this and reminding myself I’m not dreaming 🤣 I seriously only got 3 hours of sleep last night and when I woke up the first thing I did was check twitter to be sure this “drunk bridal-style spinning hickey neck biting proudly showing off” moment actually happened!! 

.. I hate the way my brain works though. I was so happy that it took me forever to fall asleep, spent all day on cloud 9 despite being tired, .. and then my old nemesis, anxiety, stepped in. Well kind of. TBH if all of the MOTS ON:E Jikook moments we got happened with Jimin/anyone else or Jungkook/anyone else.. I would seriously be sitting here saying “well fuck.. I believe they WERE a couple, but looking at all of this it seems they are no longer together.” So really, this just confirmed what I already knew about Jimin and Jungkook: they’re a couple. My anxiety is over.. why? Why show us this? If they can cover all of JK’s tattoos, a hickey/bite mark/whatever we’re calling it should be super easy to hide. Sure it was just rehearsal.. but it was rehearsal with cameras rolling with every intention of releasing what was being filmed as future content. It could have (and some might argue should have) been covered.

Guys... I’m confused. And concerned. ❗❗❗ TW for drama, hate, homophobia, the usual anti issues

That “official” explanation.. again.. why? I’m assuming Jimin and Jungkook were asked and allowed to explain because of the chance of it being spotted and armys freaking out, so BH (or possibly even Jikook) thought to get ahead of the speculation by just being up front about it all.. but THAT explanation? I suppose it works for covering up the army panic of “Jungkook has a girlfriend?! *insert fangirl sobbing*” .. but that’s literally all it does (and only barely if you go looking at some of the anti’s reactions to it all). Really, all it did was draw even more attention and speculation. I mean.. this is, essentially, what we were told: Jimin and Jungkook were together the night before drinking, apparently without the other members as they didn’t seem to know all of this already (and they would have if they had been there), somehow hanging out and having drinks turns into Jungkook picking Jimin up bridal style (random but some of the k-army reactions on twitter were translating through google into “princess style” and I just think that’s so cute 🥰), spinning ensues, Jimin gets dizzy and wants Jungkook to put him down, ... and so he proceeds to do the only logical thing that any of us would have done in that situation... biting Jungkook’s neck? And hard enough to leave a mark the next day?? And instead of being peeved about it (like most of us would have been if our friend bit the crap out of us), Jungkook looks happy?? proud even??? 

And they arrived together the next day and continue to be cute and playful? 

I just.. I mean.. come on. First of all.. that’s a hickey. A bite leaves teeth marks. And one would assume a wild, drunken “let me down” chomp would be something that happens suddenly and ends very quickly. I know I for sure would drop someone on their ass if they decided to take a bite out of my neck (assuming I was even picking up and spinning around with one of my friends like that to begin with.. but let’s not even get into why that was going on at this point) .. but the way this bruised? Yeah. There were no teeth involved (at least not hard enough to leave indentations) and this took more than a couple of seconds of mouth-to-neck contact to still be that visible the next day. So.. in short. Jungkook arrives with a hickey, JK decides to not cover it up (or he would have shown up with it hidden and we see him get out of the car that morning with it clearly visible), BH staff sees it and also decides to not have it covered up and actually have it explained... and the explanation is “oh yeah Jimin just bit him, you know.. no big deal hehehe isn’t that funny?” 🤯 WHAT?! Yeah.. that’s totally normal, platonic behavior between adults...

I’m not saying Jimin and Jungkook are lying btw. I have no doubt it played out more or less exactly as they said with the exception of what they’re calling the end result. Jimin and Jungkook are fine.. I mean, what were they supposed to say? They’re not going to show up saying Jimin was sucking on Jungkook’s neck the night before. We’ll probably never know why Jungkook decided to not cover it up before arriving, but it’s his body and he gets to decide. It’s BH that has me so puzzled. Other than antis and people who refuse to see what’s literally right in front of their faces when it comes to Jikook.. who were BH expecting to believe the bite thing? Just among staff and the other members, it’s a laughable but safe “oh of course *wink wink*” explanation that allows everyone to carry on like normal. But to the public who don’t know them personally, don’t know their usual behavior and patterns, and who don’t have something like a non-disclosure agreement or professional courtesy preventing them from openly speculating.. it doesn’t fly. Pretty much everyone teen and up knows what a hickey looks like (either from having gotten/given one or at least seeing one on someone else in person or online). It’s immediately obvious what it is. And even if there was some uncertainty.. that it’s on his neck (instead of other easily accessible and less sensitive/stimulating locations) and just so happens to be right near his mole as it Jimin were aiming for it? Just another “too many coincidences” thing when it comes to Jikook.

Even antis on twitter couldn’t deny what it was and, so, had to resort to the “well I do that with my sibling and my uncle’s pet raccoon all the time it’s just family things” excuse and/or the “yeah well someone ELSE in the group (or a girlfriend) gave him that and they’re just covering by saying it was Jimin.” Oh. And the same old “it’s just fan service” excuse (as if Jungkook would let someone bruise his neck for the purposes of fanservice which, again, BTS has never done or needed to do. Forever pissed off that so many in this fandom act like Jungkook is a puppet doing whatever the “evil company” tells him to do regardless of his personal feelings or boundaries. The man has tattoos covering nearly every inch of his arm despite that being looked down on in Korea. At this point he can do whatever the fuck he wants). So.. why?? Seriously, why? This all could have easily been avoided with simple makeup.

When they’re doing official content they’re all literally followed around by a flurry of staff fixing hair, dabbing sweat, touching up makeup, etc. Even though it was rehearsal, staff were everywhere in the footage that’s made its way online. If they were worried that it would be seen in the background and “taken the wrong way,” just have the staff occasionally touch up the makeup. “Easy peasy lemon squeezy.” But instead of doing the obvious, BH decides to: not cover it, draw attention to it by asking about it and letting them continue to talk about it, go out of their way to get a camera on it, and then include it in the final cut of the content they sent out?

BTS is literally the most popular group in the world right now and BH has become a behemoth of a company that runs like a well-oiled machine. They’re not stupid; this was not a mistake. For some reason they wanted us to see this and, one would assume based on the lack of a more believable explanation, they wanted us to come to the conclusion that we all have: Jimin gave Jungkook a hickey. You know they have teams dedicated to monitoring reactions to content on social media. You know they know the dialog surrounding Rosebowl, Black Swan MMA, the Memories 2020 “almost kiss,” etc. etc. All of this got “jikook,” “hickey” and variations of their names trending for HOURS (in multiple countries and worldwide). 

Out of curiosity, I decided to check the trends at the time of writing this. As of 3 AM CST (about 24 hours AFTER the clips started showing up online), there was still a hashtag trending related to all of this: #FREEJUNGKOOK.. and the tweets being directed toward BH are.. disturbing to say the least:

While I agree that the boys should trend more often based on their talents and music.. what’s going on right now is a homophobic 💩 show accusing BH of “scripting” interactions (rather than.. you know.. Jungkook interacting with whoever he wants however he wants.. the usual “mindless puppet JK” narrative), trying to coordinate the mass sending of angry emails, trying to get people to stop buying paid content, accusing BH of taking advantage of the members.. I mean it goes on and on. And BH know what’s going on right now. They’re seeing the reactions... the good and the extremely negative. And still they let this out. And this is all not even CONSIDERING the mountain of other moments that made the cut on MOTS ON:E. 

(side note, the above pic just oozes happiness and it’s so cute I love it!! 😭)

So.. even though I’ve said it dozens of times already... WHY? W H Y? I’m an anxious person by nature and not very trusting. I believe Jimin and Jungkook and I don’t think they’ve been lying and pretending for “fanservice” all of these years. I respect them both too much as individuals and artists to believe that they would stoop to such tactics just to generate a little more “interest” and revenue. I’m suspicious of BH. BTS doesn’t need fanservice to get attention; literally all of 2020 and 2021 so far has proven that beyond a doubt. Even if they suddenly made the decision to do fs.. why not go with the most popular ship (taekook) or at least one that isn’t so hotly debated on social media (remove Jimin, Jungkook and Tae from the equation and you still have four members to “play” with who have much less potential to have fs devolve into a toxic crap show all over the internet). Showing us this will do nothing to help BTS as a group or Jimin and Jungkook at this point. In fact.. all it can do is hurt. Hurt BH, hurt the group, and hurt the individual members, heck.. even potentially hurt other BH/HYBE groups. I’ve already seen people on twitter saying they’re “done” spending money on anything BH or BTS puts out because they’re “sick of jikook in their faces and just two of the seven hogging all of the screen time.” Whether or not that “spending freeze” actually materializes into anything noticeable remains to be seen of course.. but the threat is there and always has been. What is the motive? And why now? As much as my “hopeless romantic” heart would like to believe they’re preparing us for Jikook to be “out” .. I seriously don’t think that is ever going to happen. Certainly not now at the height of the group’s fame, with them being given Presidential honors and ambassador status, and with military service still looming over them all. And let’s not forget... Korea is NOT a safe place for a queer couple. Letting us see and know what they did through what was released has the potential to put Jimin and Jungkook (and the other members by proxy) in danger. Sure.. BTS has never been hardline rule followers and have been breaking molds and shattering norms from the start, so “officially” having an openly gay couple in the group wouldn’t be impossible.. just... highly highly improbable. Especially right now... and I’m concerned. I don’t want to sound like the creeps I posted a screenshot of above throwing blame at the company. The boys chose to renew their contracts with the for a reason so we have to trust their judgement as a group... but still, I’m worried and I’m questioning what the purpose was here. 

#jikook #drama #kat thoughts #sorry for being a downer... #I'm stressed :(

[ieattaperecorders]

Something's Different About You Lately - Chapter 14: After the Fire

Jon has some visitors.

Note: This chapter contains a few small instances of well-meaning people touching a blind person without warning in a way that startles them.

Read on Ao3

---

He knew that he was in a hospital before he was fully awake. The texture of the stiff sheets and gown, the antiseptic smell, some indistinctly medical quality to the air filled him with the memory of wandering through distant dreams, of emerging into a cold and brightly-lit room. He came to himself gradually, slowly growing aware of an uncomfortable heaviness, of something wrapped around his face and something else restricting movement on his right side. He shifted experimentally and felt a twinge. Quietly, he groaned.

"Hey," came a voice from nearby. "You actually awake, boss? Or is this another false alarm?"

I'm not your boss anymore, Tim, he thought. Then he thought, wait a minute.

"Tim . . . ?" his voice came out hoarse and thick with grogginess. "Where – augh . . . ."

Pain shot through Jon's body as he tried to lift himself into a sitting position. He heard Tim get up and felt a careful hand on his left shoulder, guiding him back down.

"Oooh, don't do that. They've got you on the good stuff, but you're still a mess on that side. Don't be such an impatient patient."

"Where's Martin? Is he –"

"Relax, Martin's fine. Well, not fine, he's been shot, but he's doing a lot better than you. Bullet glanced off your shoulder before hitting him, tore up some muscle and fat but didn't get anything vital. He was awake before you were even out of surgery."

The hand stayed on Jon until it was clear he was going to remain still, then came away. There was an audible scrape as a chair was pulled closer, and Tim sat down again.

"We're all fine too, by the way," he added, as if offended he hadn't asked. "Just so you know."

"And . . . Jonah?"

Tim was quiet for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice was subdued.

"Didn't check if he was breathing when we left him, but he wasn't getting up," he said. "And I can't see anything coming out of that fire."

Jon lay still and tried to process it all. He wasn't sure what he should feel. What he did feel was a distant sort of unsteadiness, whether it was shock or whatever painkillers were coursing through his system, he didn't know.

"Have you been sitting up with me?" he asked.

"Don't get too big a head about it," Tim smirked. "I've only been here a bit. Sasha's come by to peek in as well, and we've visited Martin too. I was just lucky enough to be the one to see your grumpy little face when you woke up."

"Huh." Surprise and a strange melancholy rose in Jon at the thought. He smiled wryly, "and for my part, the first thing I hear on regaining consciousness is Tim Stoker's terrible puns."

"Excuse you, I am a delight to be around and my puns are charming."

Jon laughed softly, lapsing back into silence. The quiet stretched on for a while, solemnity beginning to creep in at the edges again. Then Tim spoke.

". . . You think he's actually dead?"

"Jonah? I think so. Avatars can be hard to kill, but he was very afraid of death." Jon tapped his less encumbered hand against the mattress, considering. "I think . . . if he had reached to the Eye in his last moments, it would have simply watched as his life faded away, doing what it does. Drinking in his fear."

"Couldn't have happened to a nicer guy," Tim muttered, something unsettled in his tone. "What about the circus?"

". . . Depends what you mean, I suppose." Jon tried to choose his words carefully. "I'm not the Archivist anymore, so I don't think they'd have any interest in me now. We're not protected from them, but I don't think they'd have reason to come after any of us. Unless, of course," he added pointedly. "Someone draws their interest by going after them."

"Even if we get away, they're still out there," Tim pushed, something limping in his voice, "Doing what they do to people. Am I supposed to just be okay with that?"

Jon was quiet for a while.

"If you could destroy the circus," he said softly, "which is a big ‘if', but if you could, the Stranger would continue manifesting in other forms. Possibly even as a circus again. You can't keep fear from the world, you'd only be changing details. In the end I don't know if it would save anyone."

"It would hurt those things, though. Wouldn't it?"

"Maybe," Jon said. "Maybe not. Certainly not as much as it would hurt anyone who cared about you."

It was Tim's turn to be quiet. He let out a long, frustrated sigh. "Not sure I like this new, future-memories version of you Jon," he said. "He's kind of a know-it-all."

"You should have seen me when I was literally all-knowing."

"Nightmare. Don't know how Martin put up with you."

"Neither do I." Jon smiled, warmth running through him at the thought. He took a long, slow breath. ". . . You died hating me, you know. In that other life."

"Yeah?" Tim didn't sound very surprised. "What'd you do?"

"Plenty," Jon laughed mirthlessly. "Though by the end I'm not even sure how much it had to do with me. We were lost, hurt, broken people, lashing out in fear and pain."

"Yeah. Starting to think that the Magnus Institute didn't exactly facilitate a healthy work environment."

"No . . . ."

He heard a soft, electronic tapping in the pause that followed. Maybe Tim was texting the others, letting them know Jon was awake? He couldn't tell. A gentle shove hit his uninjured shoulder, making him flinch.

"Well. Let's try not to fuck it up this time around, huh?" Tim said. "I'm gonna go get a nurse and tell them you're up, they'll probably want to check your vitals or rotate your tires or something."

"Right. Uh, right . . ." Jon stammered, "thank you."

The footsteps faded, and Jon let his head sink back onto the pillow. He felt . . . adrift. More so than he had in a while.

He'd been confused and frightened through all of this, half the time he hadn't even known what he was looking for, but at least he'd known he was looking. Even in the long, terrible walk across the nightmare domains, the constant pull of their destination had given him purpose. He'd known what he was hoping for.

And there had been Martin there. Of course.

For better or worse now, Jonah was dead and he was alive. He was severed from the Eye, the others were freed, and dark and terrible powers still lurked beyond the edge of human perception, waiting to Become.

Jon wasn't sure what he was hoping for now. He lay back and waited for the nurse to arrive.

* * *

Time passed in a haze. He had little sense of how much he slept, and the divide between sleep and waking blurred together.

Sometimes he had visitors. Georgie came in not long after Tim, having gotten a very incomplete version of events through Melanie. He hadn't exactly intended to tell her anything when she sat down, but somehow after a few confused inquiries, and a gentle "try me" or two, he found himself spilling everything. It was far more disjointed and emotional than his recounting in the tunnels, but the bulk of it seemed to get across.

When it was over, she just said, "sounds like you've had a hell of a time."

It was the calmness as much as the sympathy that affected Jon. As if he'd just told her about a bad relationship he'd gotten out of, rather than his place in the universe's nightmare cosmology and the end of the world.

He didn't know what to say to it, really, and frankly saying anything at all risked letting the tightness inside his chest come spilling out - the pressure bandage would hide any tears, but Georgie would be able to tell. She saved him by breaking the silence, asking if he had any stock tips or winning lottery numbers from the future to share.

Melanie's visits were less steadying, twice devolving into arguments. It seemed to be a constant between them, that no matter what happened or what forces were acting on either of them, their ability to rile each other was inevitable. She was also insistent that he explain every detail he remembered about what she'd begun calling the "dark timeline." When he complained that framing it as an alternate timeline was likely inaccurate and, frankly, horrifying in its implications, she threw a pen at him.

Still, she came back again afterwards. And still, he was glad that she did.

Sasha reported that her hand was healing, though when pressed admitted he'd been right about her range of motion not returning. She also helped him set the voice assistant up on his phone, which was a great relief. Though it was a bit embarrassing to reveal how little he knew about his own device's functions.

"Honestly Jon, you're only thirty-one," she said, going through some final setup that he'd already forgotten her explanation of. "You've got no excuse at all to be so tech-illiterate."

"Yes, yes. I've had other priorities lately."

"I don't mind you asking for help, understand. But what are you going to do if I get eaten by another evil table someday?"

He felt a stab of shock at the blazingly conversational reference to it. Something must have shown on his face because he heard her pause..

"Sorry. Too soon?"

"Ah. . . depends on your perspective of time, I suppose," Jon said, trying and failing to make it sound like a joke.

"Right. You know, it's all a little distant for me. Unsettling, sure, but on my end it's really just a story. . . ." she trailed off. "Hey, what were you doing in Hainault?"

"Gertrude's storage locker was there -- are you going through my location history?"

"Just the more recent stuff," she made it sound as if he was the strange one for asking, and he grunted with annoyed resignation.

"You should be careful about that."

"About what?"

"Prying into other people. Invading their privacy," he lay his head back against the pillow. "Don't forget that you were part of a temple to the Eye until very recently. You're free of the Institute now, but the power behind it might not be through with you."

She was quiet for a while. Whether it meant she was contemplating what he said or ignoring him so that she could continue digging through his phone, he couldn't say.

"All I'm saying is that it can be addicting," he continued. "That urge to push past the boundaries that people raise against you. Trust me when I say that I know."

"I'd imagine you would." She paused. ". . . What was it like?"

"What was what like?"

"Being all knowing?"

". . . Hard to describe."

There was a pause, and when it became clear he wasn't going to continue, Sasha pushed out an annoyed breath and said "well you could give it more of a shot than that."

"I don't know. Overwhelming," Jon said. "In the most complete sense of the word. Sometimes I had answers, but so few of them were helpful in the end. And the things I saw, the nightmares, the pain of everyone trapped in them. Having to watch that sort of thing, all the time . . . either it destroys you, or you learn to distance yourself. At least a little. If only to keep from breaking down. Neither is very good, but one lets you survive."

Sasha made a thoughtful humming noise.

"It isn't anything you want. Believe me," he said softly. "Even if the world hadn't ended, if I'd just been another avatar . . . any rewards aren't worth the price that others have to pay."

"Yeah," she sighed heavily. "Sounds about right."

Jon relaxed, some tension he'd been carrying in him slowly unlocking. Sasha continued.

"Well. Talking about privacy, while I'm here let me at least show you how to stop broadcasting your location to anyone and everyone," she tsked and scooted her chair closer. "Honestly. No wonder you got kidnapped all the time."

"I don't really think supernatural manifestations of fears needed GPS to find me."

"Couldn't have helped though, could it?"

"Probably not," Jon smiled sadly. "Should've had you around."

"Yeah. Can't imagine how any of you managed."

* * *

Even with his visitors, there were long stretches of time Jon spent entirely alone. Laying in the dark and the quiet, his thoughts shifting like a tide. Sometimes he'd drift back to those first years at the Institute, or the time-beyond-time after the change. Other days he'd lay contemplating the past few months, all the things that he'd re-written and the worries he still had.

Mostly he thought of very little, the twin sophorics of boredom and pain medication fogging his mind into an uncomfortable stasis.

When the knock came, he'd been listening to the soft, white noise of the air conditioning and thinking of how much it resembled distant waves, putting him in mind of a cold and empty shore. Then he heard two soft taps against the door, along with a familiar voice.

"Knock, knock," Martin said.

It was the first time he'd heard his voice since the fire, since the two of them were falling to the ground together. Without really thinking he asked, "who's there?"

"Oh! Right –" he sounded embarrassed. "Sorry, it's Martin."

"Yes, I -- ah, yes." Jon sounded pitifully eager, he knew, but he couldn't bring himself to care. "C-come in. Please."

* * *

If Jon was asleep, Martin decided, then he'd come back later. He probably needed the rest -- had needed it a good long while before they'd both been shot. Really, Martin ought to be at home resting as well. But when he knocked softly on the half open door, Jon turned in his direction, wide awake.

"Who's there?" he asked.

"Oh! Right –" stupid, he can't see you. Going to have to remember that. "Sorry, it's Martin."

Jon nodded, inviting him in and slowly shifting into a seated position as Martin pulled a chair up to his bedside.

He could see the edge of a dressing covering the bullet's exit wound, just peeking up from under Jon's collar. The bandages had been removed from his eyes, and the area around them was still a little bruised and swollen. He looked wrung out, small and tired. But then, Martin supposed, everyone looks small and tired in a hospital bed.

"How are you doing?" Jon asked, "they told me you've been recovering as well . . . ."

"Yeah, just got released this morning." He stretched, rubbing over the bandage that was hidden below his shirt and jacket. "Went home, had a shower, then came right back to the hospital."

"Sounds like an exciting day."

"What about you?"

"Mmm, still looking forward to a few days here, at least. They don't think I'll be needing more surgery, fortunately, and they're weaning me onto less intense painkillers. It's a little exhausting, but apparently I'm recovering well."

"Considering you took a bullet for me," Martin muttered.

A startled-sounding laugh came from Jon. "I'm not really sure that's what happened. More like we both got shot at the same time?"

"Suppose so," Martin said. Didn't quite feel that way, though. "Honestly, I don't even know if he was trying to shoot us at the end, or if the gun just went off when they tackled him."

"Neither would surprise me."

"But then I didn't even think he had a gun, let alone murdered people with it."

"I suspect he was desperate. He probably only resorts -- resorted to things like that when some disaster crept up on him. Like us, or like Gertrude. He wasn't the hands-on type. Which came back to bite him with the ritual. In a way it's the reason I'm here -- or, the memories are, I suppose."

"Right . . . ."

Martin had plenty of time to think about it all, laid up in his own bed on another floor of the same building. About all that happened, about the things Jon told them in the tunnels. More than anything else, it just made him feel foolish. Like he'd been left out of a conversation that had been going on behind his back, and now everyone was looking at him and expecting him to catch up.

Which was pretty foolish itself, of course. Jon hadn't told anyone the whole story -- there'd been no conversation, no loop he was kept out of. It wasn't as if ‘post apocalyptic time-traveling memories' was a conclusion he could have somehow come to if he'd just paid closer attention. It was a ridiculous way to feel.

Sasha had told him, between games of dominoes, that she was glad he'd been there that night because she didn't think anyone else could have talked Jon out of his plan. Which was a lot to unpack, but didn't help with the sense of being out of the loop. Not if it was that obvious. Of course, she might have just been trying to make him feel useful. The way he saw it, he hadn't done much that evening except quietly panic, shout a bit and get held at gunpoint. And get shot. And get Jon shot with him, because he'd stood in front of him.

"I'm sorry . . . ." Martin said, softly.

". . . For what?"

"I saw what was happening, just before the gun went off. I could have pulled you away if I was faster, or thrown us to the ground, or done something. Instead I just froze."

"Martin . . ." Jon tilted his head in his direction. "Even assuming you could have been fast enough, most people freeze up when a gun is pointed at them. I did the same the first few times."

". . . First few times." Martin repeated flatly. "Jesus, Jon."

"I know. It's been a difficult few years."

"I didn't even know . . . ."

"I didn't want you to know," Jon said. "I couldn't tell any of you, Martin, not until everything was ready. You saw how close things came as it was, if he'd gotten wind of things sooner . . . ."

"Right . . . of course."

The two of them fell into an uncertain silence. Jon's hand worried at a thread on the edge of the bedsheet, twisting and twirling it between his fingers. Martin thought about that hand moving slowly and smoothly over his own, about the sorrow on Jon's face when he'd pulled away. Doubt anyone else could've talked him out of it, Sasha's voice repeated in his mind.

"About what you said. In the tunnels . . . ."

Jon visibly tensed, the edge of the sheet twisting in his fingers. "Er . . . which part?"

"The part about me," Martin said, praying that would be enough, that Jon wasn't going to make him actually repeat the words. "About us?"

"Ah. Right," he smiled weakly. "Funny how much easier it is to say these things when you think you're not going to be alive much longer."

"You were really going to tell me that and then go off to die a minute later, weren't you?" There was something quiet in Martin's voice as he spoke. Calm. Like the eye of a hurricane.

"I . . ." Jon hesitated, then nodded. "Yes."

"Bit rude."

". . . Suppose it was."

Martin went quiet. What could he say to that, to any of it? It wasn't as if he didn't get it, insecurity only goes so far when there's a declaration that explicit. He knew what I love you meant, he just . . . felt like he'd only now joined the conversation.

Before the silence could grow too powerful, Jon spoke again.

"We were together. In that other life. By the end of it, at least. I --" he laughed softly. "It took me too damned long to even realize my own feelings, let alone imagine that -- but we were together."

I can't watch that happen again, he'd said. Martin had more or less guessed that was the situation, but it was still strange to hear it confirmed. Surreal to think that Jon had a history with him, or a version of him, that he wasn't a part of.

"Were we happy?"

Jon was quiet for a while before answering. "I -- I'd like to say we were. I don't know if happy is a word I can use. At first we were in hiding, and then after the Change it was . . . well, it was a nightmare. But we had each other, and that made all the difference. And --"

He took an unsteady breath. "I think I was happier in those desperate weeks we had before the world ended than I'd honestly been in years? And there were times I'd see you in that cabin, and you'd be complaining about something, or humming while we cleaned and laughing to yourself. And you'd look different somehow, and it felt like -- there was a part of you that had been tucked away in all the time I'd known you, that was letting itself breathe again, and I was so lucky to be allowed to see it," he laughed lowly. "Or maybe all that was me projecting. Maybe I was the fool who should have paid better attention before. I don't know."

Martin tried to picture himself tucked into some remote hideaway, hiding from sinister supernatural monsters but relaxed enough to be humming and laughing while they tidied up. Tried to imagine what Jon could be referring to, how he'd been different and whether that was a good or bad thing, even. He found that he couldn't do either.

"What was he like?" he asked. "That other me."

A soft smile spread through Jon. "He was like you, Martin. A little older . . . a great deal more tired. More short-tempered, or maybe just more vocal about it," he added with fondness. "He was brave, and frustrating, and . . . and wonderful. Just wonderful."

". . . Sounds like quite a guy." Martin managed.

Jon nodded. Then the smile slipped from him, and his hands came together in his lap,

"I know that you aren't him. That is -- you are, in a sense you're the same person, but you also aren't?" he gestured outward. "Our experiences, they shape who we are, they change us. I know that."

". . . Right."

A part of him had suspected something like this might be coming, and he shouldn't have gotten his hopes up. It still hurt, and he felt guiltily relieved that Jon couldn't see his face just now.

"I just . . ." Jon continued, "I don't want you to think, ah, that I expect anything--"

"No, I get it." Martin tried to smile, tried to sound like every word wasn't twisting in him. "I probably remind you of him? And -- heat of the moment, you thought you were gonna die. I get it. I don't expect anything either."

Jon frowned, looking momentarily confused.

"I know I'm not him, like, it's not the same," Martin continued, clearing his throat. "It doesn't have to be a thing, you know, if you don't want--"

"Martin." Jon cut him off. "I meant every word I said down there. I still do."

The words dried up in Martin's throat as Jon continued.

“I love you. Just as much as I always have. I still want to have a life with you, and I’m still terrified of that life being torn from us. And I don’t know how you feel about me, but I know -- even if any, ah, feelings are returned, I--” He took a deep breath, “What I feel for you, it’s, well, it’s a lot? There are so many things I’ve been through with you that you haven’t been through with me, and that’s good, I’m glad you haven’t been through them because they were mostly horrible. But I can’t deny that many of them brought us closer --”

“Jon . . . .”

“And -- and I don’t want to scare you off with the -- the intensity of my feelings but I’d understand and I wouldn’t blame you --”

Martin reached out and put a hand on Jon’s arm. The flurry of movement and talk came to a sharp standstill.

“Jon,” he said again.

“Oh. Um,” Jon’s voice was small and quiet. “Oh.”

". . . I don’t know how I’m different from the Martin you remember. And I don’t know how he felt about you, or how what I feel is different,” he said slowly. “All I know is that when you said you were going to go off to find a quiet corner and kill yourself, it felt like the whole world was falling apart.”

Jon was still under his hand, barely breathing.

“Don’t do it again.”

Quietly, Jon nodded. Martin pulled his hand away, settling back into the chair. For a while neither of them said anything,

“I mean, listen . . .” Martin finally broke the silence, shrugging uncertainly. “I’m willing to give it a try if you are?”

An unsteady sound came out of Jon, his hand flew up to cover his mouth and when he pulled it away he was smiling. "I -- I'd like that. Very much," he said.

"Okay." Martin smiled back, feeling airy, lightheaded. "Cool." He laughed. "Getting shot together'll make a hell of a first date."

"Wh-- that was not a first date!" Jon protested, his own laugh coming out sharp and startled, "that was a -- a terrifying escape from our sinister employer."

"Kind of romantic though, right?" Martin teased, "in a bad action movie sort of way."

"Everything else aside, I refuse to entertain the idea that our first date involved Jonah Magnus in any respect," he shuddered, shaking his head. "Though it -- it honestly may be a while before I'm up for anything much better. I'll still be in the hospital a bit, and afterwards . . . well, I know there's a lot I'm going to have to adjust to."

Martin felt a twinge at Jon's voice, at the anxiety creeping back into it. ". . . You won't have to do it alone," he said.

Smiling weakly, Jon reached a hand over the hard plastic rail meant to keep patients from falling out of bed. Martin took it and squeezed. Jon nodded and let go, settling back.

"There's still so much . . ." he said. "So much you don't even know . . . about us, and about other things."

"You could tell me now, you know. If you wanted."

Jon paused, looking uncertain. "Are you sure you want to hear it? I don't know what you're expecting but it's not going to be some sort of --- pleasant office romance. It's just a series of horrible, traumatic experiences, one after another."

It was a fair question, really, and Martin thought about it before answering.

"I want to hear it," he said. "If you're okay talking about it, that is. I want to know what you've been living with all these months. And . . . I want to know more about that other life. Even if it's all just awful."

Slowly, Jon nodded. "All right . . ." he said, "but it really is a very long story. It's going to take a while."

"I don't have anything on today," Martin smiled, standing up. "I'll go and get us some tea."

#tma fanfic #tma #sdayl #man it's almost done wild

[fandomlurker]

A Ponderous Rewatch: In the Garden of Mindy

So today’s episode is neither a regular Pinky and the Brain skit nor a mere cameo. Today’s episode is…different, as the opening that spoofs the 1980s CBS Special Presentations pops up.

Perhaps the Warner Siblings can shed some light on this?

“Hi. We’re the Warner Brothers.”

“…And the Warner Sister.”

Look at these smug little gremlin children. You just know something is wrong when they make faces like that.

“And we’d like to invite you and all the members of your household…”

“…to gather around the TV set and join us now…”

“…for a very special episode of Animaniacs.”

“And what’s so special about it?”

“I’m not wearing any pants!”

…Wakko, you’re never wearing any pants.

Okay, okay, so we have the usual opening song and then the real explanation comes along.

“Welcome to the Animaniacs test kitchen!”

Oh no…

“We’re cookin’ up something really different for today’s show. All we need are our ingredients!”

Oh, kids, no!

“A dash of Pinky and the Brain!~”

WARNERS, PLEASE!!!

Man, the mice look so worn out. Did they…try to escape the Warner Siblings to avoid this whole thing? Like, that’s the only reason I can think of for why they look so tired as opposed to surprised or nonchalant like the other characters: They’re exhausted from attempting to run away. And for Pinky to be tired out is very, very telling.

“A cup of Slappy Squirrel!~”

Slappy is resigned to her fate.

“A tablespoon of Goodfeathers~”

I’m sorry about the smear face I managed to capture on you, Yakko.

I love how Bobby’s smirking a little, Squit is grinning like usual, and Pesto is looking at both of them like “If this is in any way you guys’ fault, I swear to the Godpigeon you’re all in for a beaking.”

“Add Rita, Runt, then swirl!~”

Meanwhile, Rita and Runt are just baffled.

“We add a pinch of Hippos~”

Why do you only have one of them?

…Wait, this is a fat joke, isn’t it? Goddammit.

“Buttons and Mindy, too~”

“Now top it off with Skippy Squirrel~”

Buttons and Flavio right now:

“What’s that make?

Animaniacs Stew!~”

Well, okay. We can at least call everything that results from this by a catchy name: The Stew AU.

“What’d we come up with?”

“Just watch…”

Oooh, children. You’ve committed a culinary evil this day.

“They’re Mindy and the Brain~”

So we’re mixing up the Animaniacs cast of characters and shows today.

[sighs]

Okay, so I guess it’s time to explain the basic premise of the Buttons and Mindy shorts and why they’re not fondly remembered, huh?

Well, the whole thing with Buttons and Mindy is a variation on the Baby’s Day Out type of scenario. Buttons the family dog is put in charge of guarding and babysitting Mindy, a friendly and curious toddler, by the mother of the family. The mother leaves to go…somewhere, and Mindy inevitably wanders off to chase after a bug or something new and interesting that she sees. Buttons goes after her because he loves Mindy very much and wants to keep her safe and be a Good Dog, and Mindy naively and unknowingly wanders into increasingly dangerous and life-threatening situations that Buttons must save her from, all the while getting beaten and bruised by the situations that were threatening Mindy.

The shorts usually end with Mindy and Buttons somehow ending up back home with Buttons ragged from the abuse he’s endured and Mindy perfectly fine except for maybe not being tied to her tether or in her playpen or whatever. The mother comes home and sees that Mindy is not quite where she was when she left her, or the surrounding area is a mess or something equally not that terrible, and berates Buttons for not taking better care of Mindy and calling him a Bad Dog.

And that’s where it ends.

If you’re not busting a gut at that description, congratulations, you are just like 90% of the Animaniacs audience.

The reason these shorts just don’t work for a lot of viewers, myself included, is that this kind of scenario is only funny once or maybe twice. After that, you just end up feeling bad for Buttons and don’t want to see a cartoon dog go through a conga line of pain that he doesn’t deserve. Not to mention that the whole premise can be boiled down to “Severe Parental Anxiety: The Show”, and not a lot of people like feeling that way for ten minutes or so per cartoon episode.

The reason the scenario works for a comedy movie like the aforementioned Baby’s Day Out is because the people going after the baby in that movie are kidnappers and obviously terrible people who only look out for the child’s safety so they can hold the kid for ransom, thus the pain they go through while the child remains okay is funny. Trying to do the same thing with an innocent family dog that just wants to keep a toddler safe? Not very funny at all. It’s just sad.

“Mindy and the Brain!

One’s a small child,

And the other’s…the Brain!~”

So now we have a Buttons and Mindy episode with Brain filling in for Buttons. Already this is…not great, but I suppose it’s the only suitable fit for Brain because he’d have it so, so much worse if he was put in the cast of the other skits.

I like the Goodfeathers skits, but I feel like Bobby and Pesto wouldn’t put up with his world domination shtick and end up berating him and/or beating him up. And Squit? Squit’s a do-gooder but he definitely doesn’t have Pinky’s level of passive subordination. Brain would be completely out of his league.

This isn’t to say that I wouldn’t want to see Brain interacting with the Goodfeathers, because holy shit yes PLEASE I would love the chaos that would ensue. I just think Brain wouldn’t last on his own with them.

Brain would, again, be completely out of his element in a Slappy Squirrel cartoon. Slappy’s skits hinge on her being a senior Looney Toon-type who knows just how to handle absurd scenarios and villains. Brain gets lost and confused incredibly quickly when unexpected situations pop up. He’s not a quick thinker in general. He’d be toast.

Being inserted into a Rita and Runt skit… Well, Rita wouldn’t be a good partner for obvious reasons that will become even more apparent later. And Runt is kind and a bit dimwitted but he’s no Pinky. Runt isn’t the type to be interested in helping to take over the world. He just doesn’t have the skills to do…almost anything that Pinky can, and he doesn’t have the drive to do it. Runt just wants a home and that’s it.

As for the Hip Hippos, there’s a skit of theirs down the line where Brain is involved and it honestly turns out about as well as it does for Brain in this episode.

So, let’s see how Brain fares in a world without Pinky.

“He uses his lobe

To overthrow the globe!~”

Also, we’re again treated to TMS doing the animation, which certainly elevates this skit quite a bit.

“She’s whimsy,”

I love how Brain goes from shock and surprise to absolute petulant grumpiness after seeing that Mindy put him in a jar.

“They’re Mindy and the Brain, Brain, Brain, Brain, Brain!~”

If only this was the extent of your humiliation today, Brain. If only.

[Various raspberry and baby babbling noises]

“Hi, Lady!”

“It’s ‘Mom’.”

This is honestly the only joke I ever liked in the Buttons and Mindy shorts. Apparently it was based on something a real child of a friend of an Animaniacs creator would say to their mom.

“Now listen, honey, mommy has to go to a better parenting conference. You stay right here and play.”

A “better parenting conference”, huh? Lady, you need it more than you know. For many reasons.

“Okay Lady, I love you, buh-bye!~”

Is anyone else getting a horrid sense of foreboding and dread from Mindy’s doll looking like a simplified Elmyra?

“Now, Brain, you keep an eye on Mindy while I’m gone.”

Nothing like leaving a mouse in a cage in charge of a toddler, huh?

Gosh, brain’s so adorably chubby in this episode. Look at him. Look at that grumpy face and that pudgy belly.

“I always get an attitude from him…”

Yeah, he’s… Yeah. That’s Brain, all right.

“At last, that meddler is gone! I’m free to begin my plan to…conquer the world!”

I love that back shot of Brain so much. It’s perfect. That’s the perfect Brain proportions and I can only dream of being able to draw cartoons that well.

“First, I’ll use telepathy to open the cage.”

C-come again? “Telepathy”?

Brain, honey… You’re looking for the word “telekinesis”. You should know this.

Also I guess Pinky’s not the only one with telekinesis capabilities.

The fact that he cocks his head to the side when he turns the trowel with his mind is a nice little detail.

“Now to get Mindy…”

That strut, though. He’s a mouse on a mission.

“Come, Mindy, it’s time for us to conquer the world!”

...Okay, I’ll say it: Mindy is very cute in this shot.

Meanwhile Brain...looks like a gremlin.

“Why?”

“By right of superior intelligence, I am best suited to guide the destiny of this planet.”

Careful, Brain. You’re getting dangerously close to--

“Why?”

“My empirical powers give me the mandate.”

BRAIN, this is starting to sound like eugenics...!

“Why?”

“Because it’s something I want to do!”

Oh lord, without Pinky to reel him in and remind him of all the real reasons he wants to conquer the world, the Brain of this universe has devolved into a mouse driven purely by ego and spite.

His little tantrum is adorable, though.

“Okay, I love you! [MWAH~]”

“I am uncomfortable with that.”

The Brain be like: What is this...”affection” you speak of? This is new and scary to me.

“Now listen closely, Mindy: Using the gardener’s weed killer, manure, and a little zoysia grass,--”

Zoysia grass is an actual thing, by the way. It’s the kind of grass you see mostly on golf courses.

“--I will construct a powerful stink bomb!” 

GAH! No need to punctuate the term by making your eyes bulge, Brain.

“We’ll use the lawn mower engine to construct a rocket and fill it with the gas. When precisely launched, the prevailing winds will spread the gas across the world’s capitals.”

As impressed as I would be with you being able to make a rocket from a lawn mower engine, Brain, it’s kind of overshadowed by you doing that thing again where you make a drawing animate like a video. Another strange power to add to the list, I suppose.

“As the stench drives the government officials out into the streets, we will rush in and seize power!”

Good lord, Brain, calm down. You’re gonna break that pointing stick!

“You understand?”

“Mousey!~”

You’re...not very good with kids, are you, Brain?

“Pretty Brain mousey…!”

“I am mortified.”

I don’t see why, you look positively precious.

“Little mousey big head!”

Mindy, dear, I too wish to squish this cute little megalomaniacal mouse sometimes but you’re doing it way too hard.

“Put me down, Mindy, or I shall have to hurt you.”

“Okay, I love you, buh-bye!”

The Brain: [is a mouse with genius intellect and gadgetry know-how with the drive to take over the world]

Also The Brain: [gets dunked on by a toddler merely dropping him on the ground]

“I sense I’ve completed the first step of my plan: Finding manure.”

That’s one way to look on the bright side, I suppose.

Sweetie, you’ve got something stuck on your head still.

“Pungent aroma, if I do say so.”

“Now to construct the rocket…”

...Why would you take the mask off now? You’re still right over top of the stink bomb! Brain, have the fumes messed with your thinking abilities already?

I do like the animation of him tearing the mask off, though.

“Buggy! Buggy!”

“All right, Mindy: Bring me the mower!”

If you ever need a pose that sums up Brain perfectly, it’s this one right here. This is him distilled down to his purest form. God bless TMS for this.

“Soon the world will be mine!”

Uh, yeah, about that...

“Woooow! Buggy go fast! Wheeeeeee!~”

“Whoooooaaaa! GAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!”

“Beh, peh, EUGH!”

Brain’s plans go to shit really fast without Pinky around. Sometimes quite literally, it seems.

“Buggy go ‘round!”

[Running in the 90s starts playing]

“Ahahaha!”

Don’t worry folks. As always, Mindy is okay. Brain, however...

“AAAAAAAAHHHHHH!”

Something I missed on my first viewing of this episode: the grass around Brain’s feet as he walks around covered in his stinkbomb juice dies near instantly.

“Wahahahaha! Silly Brain!”

“This is most unexpected.”

Is it, though? Is it really, Brain?

So, uh, something that caught me off-guard while watching this for the first time is what happens next.

Pinky and the Brain is, obviously, a Warner Brothers cartoon with some Looney Toon sensibilities. Despite that, though, while there is the occasional being-flattened-like-a-pancake or being-covered-in-soot-after-an-explosion types of cartoon slapstick and such, it doesn’t really go much beyond that when it comes to cartoonish injuries and such. The worst I’d ever seen it get in this show is at the end of Opportunity Knox when Pinky and Brain are all wrapped up in bandages and some of their fur has been scraped off raw. Even then, that was surprisingly “graphic” for the show.

But this upcoming bit?

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!! D8

--was my reaction the first time. It’s not bloody and gory, but seeing Brain being sliced into sections by a lawn mower is just...startling, to put it mildly. To my knowledge (and well, it has been decades since I regularly watched the show, so take this with a grain of salt), the Pinky and the Brain Animaniacs sketches and the spinoff never does something this Looney Toons to them.

And what really gets me is that he’s not just cut into sections with his eyeballs popped out, it’s that there’s an obvious hole in the middle of each section??? For some reason??? What that to imply space for his skeleton?!? A creamy center filling?!?

TMS, you could have just animated him in sections like some kind of mousey marshmallow, why did you include the holes?!?

[Press F to Pay Respects]

“Bleh! Brain smell like poo-poo!”

“I must re-think my present career…”

Honestly, Brain? Without Pinky to help you, I’d say it’s a good idea to just try and escape this family first and then maybe try on your own to take over the world. You might have a slightly better chance then.

“What’s that horrible smell?! Is that you, Brain?! Have you been allowing Mindy to feed you old cheese again? Bad mouse! Bad, bad mouse!”

Wait, “again”?

“…I hate being chided.”

You know, it’s interesting how he says that about this human woman chiding him, but in the regular Pinky and the Brain universe Pinky will sometimes chide Brain for doing something dubiously immoral, and while he may hate it there too...he more often than not backs down and admits to his faults when it’s Pinky doing it.

“But she’ll be gone soon, then I can begin my plans for tomorrow: Another plot to take over the world!”

“But first: A bath.”

I mean, yeah. Priorities.

“He’s stinky,

They’re Mindy and the Brain, Brain, Brain, Brain, Brain!~”

Well, I never thought we’d get a Brain bath scene until the comics but here we are.

I wonder if Pinky would find it equally as appealing to watch as that one...

Okay, that sure was...an episode. Let’s see how the other half of the equation is doing.

“They’re Pinky and the Cat!

Yes, Pinky and the Cat!

Her name is Rita,~”

Oh NO... 

I love the contrast of these two shots. It’s as if Pinky’s self preservation instinct kicks in only long enough for him to be vaguely worried about having a cat in his cage...and his lack of attention span overtakes it and he does whatever the hell this is.

“He’s a lab rat!~”

“A mouse!”

At least he still has it in him to be offended enough to correct the Warners about his actual species.

“They live inside a cage,

Making less than minimum wage.~

Aww...

Oh, Pinky, sweetie... I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for what’s about to happen.

“It’s dinky,~”

“They’re Pinky and the Cat, Cat, Cat, Cat, Cat!~”

Pinky making faces in the reflection of the water bowl is another bit of animation that’s used in the spin-off’s opening theme. It’s kind of weird to pull something from this particular segment, but whatever.

“What do you want to do tonight, Rita?”

It was so difficult to get a shot of Pinky’s cute little coy stance here, but it was worth it. Look at this cute, naive little mouse. He just wants to be friends, Rita!

“I dunno, eat you for supper?”

[GULP]

[Press F to Pay Respects...Again]

“So far, this is my favourite episode.”

“Narf! Oh, roomy accommodations, Rita!”

Don’t worry, folks, he’s fine! Yup. He’s okay somehow.

Lord, I hope this didn’t awaken a vore fetish in anyone.

“She ate the rat

‘cause Rita is a cat, cat, cat, cat, cat!~”

So yeah, that’s the end of this little experiment by the Warner Siblings. Well, the end of what’s relevant to this blog series, anyway. There’s also a skit with Pesto and Runt trying to find a home, which is honestly the best one out of this whole bunch of AU one-shots.

Then there’s a Katie Ka-Boom and Chicken Boo crossover, which is as underwhelming as you can imagine.

There’s a short where Dot takes the place of Slappy Squirrel, which goes about as well as it can after the theme song repeatedly calls her “Dottie the Squirrel”.

Lastly, Slappy takes the place of Dot in a Warner Siblings skit (with a cameo with Flavio as Skippy) where the Warners barge in on a very thinly veiled parody of Saddam Hussein and, uh... Well, it’s about as awkward to watch as it sounds. Props to Slappy for not really being interested in any part of that skit, though.

Man, after this utterly bizarre set of skits, I think we really need that full episode length Pinky and the Brain episode, don’t we?

Soon, folks. Soon.

See you then!

#Pinky and the Brain #PatB #In the Garden of Mindy #Pinky and the Cat

[hornsandthings]

a second time within these arms;

pairing: daryl dixon x reader

summary: having been separated from the group around the prison era, reader has been assumed dead for months. upon the group’s arrival at hilltop, however, daryl and the reader are reunited.

word count: 1628 // fluff & angst & exposition lol // i hope daryl’s in character?? he’s a big, surly, quiet hothead of a contradiction, but i love him :(

it has been a long time since you heard the moans of walkers.

it used to be a constant; a reminder of the folly of man and what the world had become. at first, it was an alarm to warn of danger – this was what kept you alive long enough to find the quarry camp outside atlanta. then human adaptability took root: you got used to it, and carried on. shane showed you guns; glenn taught you logistics; rick gave you the courage to endure. you were hardened, and so the groans devolved from an anxiety to an annoyance.

it stayed like that for a while. the moans were always there – sometimes they carried on the wind across the greene family farm – but they weren’t a guaranteed death knell anymore. you felt so damn secure in what the group had found there that your heart started to race for a different reason. eventually you learned that it – love – was one of the most dangerous things to do in this new world; but also the most rebellious.

and daryl dixon had always been one to defy.

it must have been something about his hands, as calloused as they were. they had adorned arrows with the feathers you gathered for him; pulled you back from several enemies; held you close during rare kisses; held your own when you were in pain. the two of you might’ve been a fitful thing, slow and discreet and unconventional, but it was real - sometimes so much so that things could be raw, all red and painful and vulnerable. but he was warmth, he was security, he was the one who kept you from losing your agency. you couldn’t deny it: daryl had taken your heart in such an absolute sweeping way that sometimes you weren’t sorry for the uglier things you’d done, because the both of you were still breathing.

new places, people, priorities; and soon the walkers’ groaning faded into the background, became the new white noise. once or twice a woodbury resident had turned to you while on duty at the prison fences, wide-eyed and swearing that a walker had moaned a word to them. but that was nonsense to you; the groans were always unintelligible.

at least, until you found yourself alone again.

on that trek north, the walkers had been your only company, their moans the only language you could understand for three long months. it became a never-ending chorus, a steadfast radio signal carrying you into the new era: post-apocalypse. the loss had been so great that you had decided to just throw yourself to the wolves too, flatline into something that behaved more dead than alive – not that the distinction was so clear anymore.

it had been so stupid, the way you got separated. you were out helping to search for those wild boars when looters caught you at a disadvantage, knocking you out so well that you didn’t ever remember waking up, only becoming lucid again. by then, you were in a whole other state, so lost in the woods that you weren’t ever going to make it back.

so you just kept going, careless, aimless. it was paul who had found you – you’d been so out of it that you took his moniker as the truth for a while, believing him to the messiah and fearing god for the first time in your life – and brought you here, to hilltop: the first and only place where you couldn’t hear the walkers’ lament.

right now, sitting in the courtyard as you cleaned the bark off some branches, you realised you were coming up on six months as serving as some kind of all-rounder. the structure here might’ve been an estate, but it felt more like a prison than the correctional facility ever did. there was a time when you had considered going back to georgia, but that required the kind of strength you didn’t have anymore.

“stop right there!”

you cocked your head, looking over to the sentries. they were brandishing their spears, they very kind you were currently trying to make more of.

“open the gates, cal.”

“jesus, what the hell is this?”

a rumble of multiple voices. you continued to carve at the branch, unbothered. you might’ve been a little better now, but the numbness that had almost consumed you… it still lingered.

the gates opened, and in walked paul with familiar faces – the doctor, a handful of the runners – and then also familiar faces, those which you thought you’d never see again, and your breath hitched and your heart stopped and you stumbled to your feet, task forgotten, dizzy and sick and sweating and believing—

you wiped hard at your eyes, expecting the stars but surprised to still see them there, rick and glenn and michonne and—and—

“daryl,” you breathed, the branch snapping beneath your feet. paul still held their attention with some explanation of hilltop—

“barrington house…”

—as you tried to move, to speak, but there was a terribly painful lump in your throat—

“…history museum…”

—and for the first time in your life you loved god, because miracles like this were surely divine. he was standing right there,only a few yards away, same jacket same pants same boots—

“…keep running after—”

“daryl!” you shouted, finally finding your voice, drawing all the attention and then he was looking at you, brows furrowing as he took one step back. but you were coming, and the realisation was in his eyes, in that one breathy mumble of your name. daryl swung the rifle over his shoulder just in time to catch you in his arms, his grunt right next to your ear.

you wrapped your arms and legs around him, not caring about the weapons that were digging into you. all you registered was him, daryl dixon, holding you tight. and then you were crying – or perhaps you’d been doing so this whole time – but he didn’t let go, his own shaky breaths warming your neck.

i—you—how—

thoughts running a hundred miles a minute, there were so many things you wanted to say, to explain, to apologise for, but the only thing you were capable of was a quiet sob. words were failing you, but you didn’t need them. not with him.

swallowing hard, you lifted your head and nudged his until you could press your lips against daryl’s own, tasting salt and smoke. it was wet, and hard, a little messy, but daryl’s hand cradled the back of your head to keep you right there against his mouth, letting the kiss linger, letting it last.

you pulled away so slowly, hand cupping his jaw to feel the scrape of stubble. was this real, or had you finally lost your mind? you searched his eyes, taking the time to just see him again. trembling, you pushed some of the hair away from his eyes, heart clenching as you realised you had started to forget some of the smaller details of his face.

“thought you were dead,” he confessed, the confusion and relief still unable to overcome that characteristic low growl to his voice. the mere sound of it had your eyes welling up again, and you gritted your teeth to keep the tears from falling. “we found nothin’ but remains… but it was your jacket, your pack—”

“i got—” you started, but then you shook your head, hands covering your face. daryl carefully set you down amidst the murmur of conversation, hand sliding to your wrist before he entwined his fingers with yours. “got a-attacked. concussion. got so l-lost… ended up here.”

“we mourned you,” rick spluttered, still in the throes of disbelief. daryl winced, shaking his head as guilt wormed its way past the shock.

“the tracks were messed up—thought it was walkers—should’ve seen it was fuckin’—”

“no, no” you started, voice cracking as you clutched at his shirt, not caring whether they had spent time looking for you or had made the call upon seeing whatever mess had been left behind. what mattered was that they were here, and so were you. these words were on the tip of your tongue, but it still felt like you were dyinga little, all this hope and joy an absolute bombardment upon a weathered heart.

daryl gathered you up in his arms again, eyeing paul and the rest of hilltop’s onlookers over your shoulder. “you’re comin’ back with us,” he said, low enough for only you to hear. all you could do was nod, knowing there were things he wanted to say but couldn’t, not in the company of strangers – but then he voiced one of them regardless. “missed you like hell.”

and finally—finally—there was a smile on your face, even if it was shaky. “i thought about you every day,” you whispered, and he squeezed you tighter for a moment in acknowledgement. paul was speaking again, and from the tension in daryl’s shoulders you knew his attention had shifted at the mention of gregory.

it had all happened so fast that it seemed like stop-motion frames, nonlinear and sporadic; surreal. still shell-shocked and utterly floored by it all, you did your best to regain your composure. all you wanted was shadow and privacy and daryl dixon to share it with, just a little while alone to relearn the intimacy that was meant for him only. you knew there’d be subtle differences for you and him to discover, and casting a glance up at him, you hoped time would be kind enough to allow you this reprieve.

after all, to find each other again after all this time, after all those miles… it gave you the strength to indeed have hope again.

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x you #daryl x oc #twd x reader #the walking dead fanfiction

[cheswirls]

[ i rly wanted to write smth for them that was short n quick n then i thought ‘oh bt what abt this small supporting cast’ and then it grew a lil but its still a short oneshot tho longer than intended.. anyway, heres kurosemi. no knowledge of to aru is necessary for comprehension. ]

“this plant smells good.”

semi knows exactly what plant kuroo is referring to, because it’s the only semblance of one in the quad. “what? that plant is fake.”

“oh?” kuroo pauses, bending down to sniff again, semi doesn’t know. “did you spray it with something or . . ?”

he stops writing when his hand jerks, a stray line of red ink stretching two centimeters farther than it should. his head snaps up away from the offending mistake so he can direct his anger in a glare at his research par- affiliate. “stop joking around!”

kuroo’s expression properly adjusts. the slant on his eyebrows is heavy -they’ve become so straight it would be possible to balance small objects on them. semi’s not entirely sure where the analogy comes from, or why he thinks it’s appropriate to the situation, but he doesn’t bother to take it back, even if he’s the only one hearing it.

anyway. kuroo deadpans. complete with a deep frown. he reaches a hand up to pluck one of the daisy’s petals, and it comes off easy, much to semi’s utter shock. “this,” he says, with as little inflection as possible, “is not plastic.”

•

semi devolves into panic, but it’s the first time kuroo has seen the plant, so a bit of explanation is necessary to garner any sympathy. unable to concentrate on anything else, semi moves the thick notebook he’s been scribbling in for the better part of an hour until it falls on the floor, half-buries his face into his ink-stained hands, and starts rambling just loudly and just coherently enough for kuroo to understand.

semi is a workaholic. his one-track mind is on his research. he can’t take care of anything but himself, and barely manages that at times. he’d acquired the house plant as a gag gift, because he couldn’t kill something that was fake. and, true to form, he’d had the daisies for five months without lifting a finger to their care.

five months.

but they were alive.

they were alive in perfect condition.

understandably, after hearing all this, he garners kuroo’s sympathy.

kuroo panics.

•

kuroo tetsurou is born in tokyo. academy city piques his interest, but he can’t see himself being a test subject. he works hard at school, and works hard at university, and only then does he apply for a graduate school inside the walls. purely for research. he is in no way a subject, nor does he desire to be.

semi eita is born in the northern tohoku region. academy city was constructed in the capital of the country before he was born. his interest was fleeting, but a chance encounter his third semester in undergrad changes that. he applies for a research position inside the special ward and is granted the transfer his fifth semester of undergrad. he is not interested in subjecting himself to strange drugs or practices, or in trying to raise his level at all. he’s not an esper.

and yet, somehow, he’s kept a small houseplant alive for five months with absolutely no conscious care. he thought it was fake, for crying out loud. the thing was only good for looking at, and that was only on particularly bad days.

semi eita is stressed.

•

“of course they found out,” kuroo grumbles, looking up to cast daichi a particularly scathing gaze. he reaches across the counter to wrestle the espresso from daichi’s fingers and downs the shot in one go. (the wrestling is not necessary, nor is it true; daichi had been handing him the shot to begin with; he simply took it with a minimum amount of nervous fumbling.) “i haven’t seen him all week.”

daichi retrieves the shot glass and holds on to it, reluctant to refill it. again. “won’t that hold up your research?”

“it already is,” kuroo admits. “not like it matters; not like they care. semi’s an important specimen. they’ll do what they want.”

“and what he wants?”

kuroo casts him another dull look and makes grabby-hands at the shot glass daichi has regrettably refilled. again. he passes it off.

“doesn’t matter much anymore,” kuroo mutters, chucking his shot right after. the words aren’t necessary to say aloud, and yet he does anyway, so daichi figures he must feel a particular sort of way about the whole thing.

•

“i don’t think it’s that bad,” yachi tells him, a couple weeks later. “sure, it can be intense, but it’s a lot of fun, too!” she smiles, sunny, as if contrasting kuroo’s deep-seated scowl. 

but here was the thing about yachi hitoka. she had been here the longest out of any of kuroo’s friends. she went to middle school here. she was level two. her esper powers were, to an average person, out-of-this-world impressive.

here was the thing about yachi hitoka. she’d grown up here. she was a success. she wanted it.

(kuroo thinks about semi, coming home to kuroo’s place instead of his own, eyes rimmed with red and hands shaking and teeth chattering, unable to fathom being alone in the dark and alone in his own thoughts and alone with all the shadows that could morph around him and alone to dwell in the negative emotions and painful memories and dreaded terrors of what was next, next, next-

semi, alone with the daisies to watch him from the corner.)

semi had kept a plant he thought was not real from dying, somehow. being an esper was not a dream of his. developing esper powers was not a desire. subjecting himself to what the city deemed necessary was in no way part of his plan when he showed up several years prior.

yachi hitoka started the power development curriculum at eleven.

semi eita was forced into it at twenty-four.

semi had kept a plant alive; some nights kuroo wished he had never mentioned it.

•

nine knocks come at rapid succession on his front door. kuroo knows this, climbing the stairs to said door, because only one person knocked like that these days.

also, because he had stopped near the top step to watch semi do it, surprised to see him there before kuroo himself, surprised at a lot of things and not surprised at all, all at once

semi is barefoot. today, he’s not breathing in odd intervals. his natural hair is more pronounced at the roots than the last time kuroo had seen him. he appears to be clean-shaven, unlike the last time kuroo had seen him. his eyes are wild, when he finally catches sight of kuroo behind him; his eyes fade to calm, when he finally catches sight of kuroo behind him.

he steps forward, bare feet loud on the floor, and kuroo has him wrapped in a hug before he’s even made it the rest of the way up the stairs. 

(he marvels at how, for just a brief moment, they stand at equal height)

semi never wants to talk about it. kuroo isn’t a therapist, and on some level, doesn’t think he can handle it. doesn’t think he can withstand the boy he loves breaking apart in front of him.

but sometimes semi writes. just as a release for his thoughts. to keep from having them pent up. and it helps, he tells kuroo.

sometimes kuroo reads them. sometimes, even rarer, he’ll read them all the way through.

it’s more of the same, usually. needles and strange drugs and pain pain pain that they insist will fade. electrodes and wires and brain experiments and nerve tests and practical experiments and live tests and plants and small animals and human cells and

semi collapses into kuroo and cries pathetic tears for someone suffering so much. kuroo feels helpless. all he can do is pull the boy he’s in love with close and whisper in his ear things he thinks are comforting. all he can think is that he has to be brave, for them both.

there’s not a name or classification for eita’s esper power.

eita. kuroo pauses on that thought. ah, i see.

kuroo runs his callused fingers through eita’s two-toned, choppy hair. he skims over fresh raises in the skin, tries not to tread too close to skull anymore. eita stiffens but relaxes quicker, burying his face more firmly in kuroo’s chest.

kuroo gets brave, bending close.

“eita,” he whispers. “you’re safe here. no one is taking you from me. you don’t have to grip so tight.”

eita’s grip grows slack, then tightens over the course of kuroo’s words, then releases entirely. he lifts his head, eyes huge and wet and fixed on kuroo and kuroo alone.

“eita,” kuroo says again, raising a hand to cup his face, run a thumb under dried tear tracks. 

eita bends closer, sucks in a breath, releases it against kuroo’s lips.

kuroo acquiesces.

•

“this is a dream,” semi mutters, glancing up from the results again. across the way, kuroo lifts his face from the microscope.

“this is dull.”

semi scoffs. “i meant overall. being here. doing this.” with you, he doesn’t say. “being here,” he says again.

“you’re running out of words.”

“hey.”

kuroo looks up again. semi has that look. the one that makes kuroo want to draw him close, call him ei-

“come over tonight. you haven’t seen my new place yet.”

kuroo hums, pretending to think it over. “got anything exciting?”

“no.” semi snorts. “i’m here all the time. no use in exciting. you’ll be the best thing there.”

the turn of phrase does something to kuroo’s heart that has him agreeing.

• 

kuroo has never called eita eita. 

kuroo is an only child. the one other person he’s ever addressed by their first name is daichi. semi eita is semi eita. research partner. assistant. what have you.

but it brings eita comfort, in a world of suffering, to be called such.

so kuroo calls him eita, and some days he lies and says it will all go back to normal. some days he believes himself when he says everything will be okay.

the daisies sit, unblemished. fresh. alive and well.

eita festers in kuroo’s arms.

•

semi nudges him on the way there. “actually, i have a couple decorations. housewarming things. flowers.”

“oh! that does sound interesting.”

“don’t get your hopes up. it’s all plastic.”

•

one day, eita’s esper ability gets a name:

repair.

kuroo laughs. what irony.

eita laughs, and bends close to suggest a synonym.

kuroo near chokes when he says tetsurou so easily.

#writing #hq #kurosemi #kuroo tetsurou #semi eita #haikyuu!! #hq!!

[fencesandfrogs]

cloudtail’s daughter: hollyleaf

alright, continuing my long running deluge of words, we move on to hollyleaf.

ah, hollyleaf. canon did you dirty. luckily, given your lifespan, i can do whatever i want with you. as long as you end up in starclan. also i haven't read squirrelflight's hope so i don't know the deal with that.

right. but as far as i'm concerned, i get to do whatever i want to do with her, and that means i'm...less making tweaks to her character and more giving us more of her, and smoothing out her character arc, because it's all a mess, you don't need me to tell you that.

alright, as per usual, warnings/disclaimers/we: this is for my cloudtail's daughter au. this goes pretty off the rails from canon, so i suspect it'll be coherent, but i still think either the main au explanation or the dovewing post is a better place to start.

2.5k words, 10min read. the least organized of all of these (no section headers).

right so i'm not really sure where to begin with hollyleaf, but i think the best place is the earliest one yet: roughly the fire scene. because hollyleaf is breaking one of my cardinal rules: don't mess with what came before, and so it's best we start there, i think.

right, so hollyleaf, as we know, takes the news about her parentage badly. and i'm not taking that away, mostly, but she doesn't devolve quite so quickly. because i just. don't like it.

hollyleaf is smart, she's loyal, it's a reasonable decision for her to fall of the rails as such, but i just really don't like it. i want hollyleaf to fall apart and come back together. i want her to have to deal with the consequences of her actions. and in this essay i will.. no but i'm getting ahead of myself, we'll do all that. first things first, though, hollyleaf keeps herself together, until she realizes ashfur isn't going to let this stay secret.

so she kills him.

and the truth comes out pretty fast. like no one is 100% sure but everybody knows.

and that? that is what really cracks hollyleaf.

right so remember in my worldbuilding post when i said something-something-i-don't-care-about-hollyleaf's-story? yeah turns out that was a fucking lie.

because i realized that i couldn't really make this work unless i knew why hollyleaf came back because well it's kind of a big deal. so i had to figure it out, and i was hyper proud of myself for realizing she could save dovepaw from the tunnels, and then i was like "well people have a lot of questions for her," to the point where one of the chapters in fading echoes is titled "questions" and it's just straight up people questioning what happened to her.

so. she still goes into the tunnels. and she meets fallen leaves. and they hit it off, probably a little faster. (tbh i'm still not interested in writing this, just what happens).

and she chills walright, continuing my long running deluge of words, we move on to hollyleaf.

ah, hollyleaf. canon did you dirty. luckily, given your lifespan, i can do whatever i want with you. as long as you end up in starclan. also i haven't read squirrelflight's hope so i don't know the deal with that.

right. but as far as i'm concerned, i get to do whatever i want to do with her, and that means i'm...less making tweaks to her character and more giving us more of her, and smoothing out her character arc, because it's all a mess, you don't need me to tell you that.

alright, as per usual, warnings/disclaimers/we: this is for my cloudtail's daughter au. this goes pretty off the rails from canon, so i suspect it'll be coherent, but i still think either the main au explanation or the dovewing post is a better place to start.

right so i'm not really sure where to begin with hollyleaf, but i think the best place is the earliest one yet: roughly the fire scene. because hollyleaf is breaking one of my cardinal rules: don't mess with what came before, and so it's best we start there, i think.

right, so hollyleaf, as we know, takes the news about her parentage badly. and i'm not taking that away, mostly, but she doesn't devolve quite so quickly. because i just. don't like it.

hollyleaf is smart, she's loyal, it's a reasonable decision for her to fall of the rails as such, but i just really don't like it. i want hollyleaf to fall apart and come back together. i want her to have to deal with the consequences of her actions. and in this essay i will... no but i'm getting ahead of myself, we'll do all that. first things first, though, hollyleaf keeps herself together, until she realizes ashfur isn't going to let this stay secret.

so she kills him.

and the truth comes out pretty fast. like no one is 100% sure but everybody knows.

and that? that is what really cracks hollyleaf.

right so remember in my worldbuilding post when i said something-something-i-don't-care-about-hollyleaf's-story? yeah turns out that was a fucking lie.

because i realized that i couldn't really make this work unless i knew why hollyleaf came back because well it's kind of a big deal. so i had to figure it out, and i was hyper proud of myself for realizing she could save dovepaw from the tunnels, and then i was like "well people have a lot of questions for her," to the point where one of the chapters in fading echoes is titled "questions" and it's just straight up people questioning what happened to her.

so you know everything is fine until a thunderclan apprentice stumbles into the tunnels, hurt and scared, unable to protect herself.

hollyleaf and fallen leaves protect dovepaw, a flood happens, i haven't worked out the details and i'm fairly tired ATM, so please forgive my handwaving.

so yeah, dovepaw is with them for three days.

hollyleaf basically gets caught by cinderheart when they're going back, so she's like "well guess now i gotta see my family" and cinderheart is like "yeah u idiot we all miss u n i love u but i am dating ur brother now" and hollyleaf is like "fair enough i have a ghost boyfriend" and they're all good

everyone has a hell of a lot of questions for hollyleaf. i have a whole chapter dedicated to it. here are some of them, and some of the answers.

brambleclaw: why didn't you tell me? (no, he hasn't learned from squirrelflight how unhelpful this question is) hollyleaf: because you're the deputy and there's no guarantee you wouldn't out me, considering you were still disowning me

dovepaw: yo so there was another cat with you wasn't there? hollyleaf: ohhh yeah i have a ghost boyfriend sorry forgot to tell you that

squirrelflight: do you still hate me? hollyleaf: mom i'm so sorry i love you so much

and then hollyleaf is home. i mean jayfeather won't talk to her but that's a few books from now, when they have ghost partners, okay?

but before that, she has to go do beavers, and she never gets a real proper chance to make up with everyone

(don't worry, she'll get the chance before she dies.)

right so dovepaw has her beaver stuff and hollyleaf tags along because Nine Is A Holy Number

really, i just need a narrator on the beaver quest, and for reasons i've mentioned but will explain in a moment, it can't be cinderheart.

so i have this symbolism going where dove/ivy start and end the series (what, i'm big on structural symbolism. i put thought into everything. especially since i'm limited in these books with what/how i accomplish, so the things that are entirely mine, like who narrates what, is carefully thought out). anyway that's because they have turning points in their relationship in the first and last book. they fall apart at the midpoint of growing shadows, and they aren't fully repaired ever, but they get closest at about the midpoint of the last hope. that's a symbolic thing, that they've come back to where they've started, but not quite. can't go back, even if you regret.

regret is a big theme in this series. ivy and dove are a pair in part because they're bound by all of these regrets that keeps stacking up.

now, the natural choice for a narrator of the beavers would be cinderheart. she's a substitude lionblaze as far as this book is concerned. however, cinderheart needs to be the main narrator when she takes dovepaw to the tribe. she just does. so we could do two cinderheart books in a row, but then where do we put lionblaze? he's not really a major character in the second arc, he basically does nothing. i guess we could have him deal with sol, but cinderheart's arc is supposed to be she learns how to solve problems in different ways, and that's why she's able to tackle sol. so, like, fine, what if we make cinderheart and lionblaze arc one narrators, and have sol be a background thing? i mean, if i did it for the dark forest, i could definitely do it for this.

so that does create one problem: regret doesn't bind cinderheart to lionblaze. regret is a theme through cinderpelt and cinderheart. lionblaze is a sexy lamp. he doesn't mean anything, he's just a love interest to challenge cinderheart. so. it feels bad to me to artifiically pair them together and imply they have a dynamic like that.

and the larger problem is what it does to hollyleaf and jayfeather.

see, hollyleaf and jayfeather have this aborted forgiveness arc, that plagues jayfeather. i'm going to write a jayfeather super edition so help me god, but that's for another time. anyway, hollyleaf is trying to make up with everyone, but jayfeather won't let her.

and he's never going to get the chance to make amends, because she dies in the last book.

but anyway, if we make hollyleaf and jayfeather the exclusive narrators of books 4 and 5, we imply their character arc happens. there. and that's...not what happens.

it's aborted. they're decoupled, desynched. they have a moment of synchrony, where they have this shared experience, but it's not enough. hollyleaf is in jayfeather's past, and he's tryign so hard to move forward. it's all ~very symbolic.~

right. back to the present day, hollyleaf has to go to do the beavers mostly because i said so, but also because i'm cautious about drawing false parallels. i think it was cinderheart's essay where i said this is the only part of it i have control over (was it earlier in this essay i've worked on this for like 3 days) and so i want to do it right. but also, she's going to be a good narrator, becuase she's covering a lot of ground, and i think hollyleaf is pretty interesting.

so hollyleaf, my dear, terrified of breaking the code, hollyleaf, watches dovepaw and tigerheart get...close.

and this is. well, hollyleaf has seen what happened when people date illegal options. and it's not good.

so she spends most of the book just kinda panicking, waiting for the moment this goes south.

beavers happen, it's the same as the books, i'm super uninterested in that plotline to the point of memery. hollyleaf is fine, everything is fine, dovepaw is sad now because cats died, everything is fine.

so i mentioned at some point or the other that dovepaw begins sleeping on top of tigerheart. dovepaw, at this point, is fully grown, but she's on the smaller side. she's a standard to small cat. tigerheart is a tigerstar clone, and tigerstar has some maine coon genes or something because he's massive. so uhh you know she probably could literally sleep on top of him but it's not quite that, it's more she's curled up and he's kind of curled up around her, but not as a concious thing. it's similar to when u accidentally wake up cuddling someone bc u shared a bed and that's that. but less awkward.

anyway hollyleaf is like "cinderheart cinderheart we should do something this is a problem," but if u remember from cinderheart, cinderheart is also being nagged by cinderpelt about this.

so cinderheart doesn't want to hear it and hollyleaf is pretty much "whelp guess i'll just die" and by die i mean quietly glare at tigerheart and shower dovepaw in love and affection.

anyway yeah after that hollyleaf does nothing for like two books.

or one book? i guess beavers is book two anyway look she misses her gf but cinderheart is in the mountains and then she's like "oh wait i have a ghost bf i should talk to"

so hollyleaf spends more and more time in the tunnels. this book actually takes place at about the same time as distant whispers. there's not 100% overlap, but it's close.

right so jayfeather (i swear i wrote dovefeather this is the problem with having 3 linked aus god) follows hollyleaf into the tunnels and he has his whole time travel sequence/half of it i still haven't decided what i'm doing with it.

and hollyleaf and fallen leaves have good ole interpersonal drama, where they're trying to be a thing but hollyleaf belongs in thunderclan and yes, this means that hollyleaf is the character who gets the singular book, because jayfeather is extremely isolated from the main plot. in fact, the only reason i keep the time travel plot is because canon. not that i don't like that it exists but for it to have been executed well it needs to be less disjoint. which is why i think i'm breaking A Rule so i can put it all in oots so it's more logical. but that's a different rant.

anyway, there's a quasi-religious conflict where hollyleaf is like "just go to starclan" and fallen leaves is like "my whole problem is how i can't do that"

uh yeah idrk exactly what happens it is once again 3am so uhhh yeah ghost cats she considers leaving thunderclan bc jayfeather won't talk to her lionblaze is away she's still mad at leafpool and squilf is in an abusive relationship and hollyleaf is still pretty young, y'know? that's a lot.

firestar is like "grand daughter i love you dearly but can u maybe uh can u maybe make up your god damn mind"

anyway so hollyleaf and fallen leaves have a bit of a fight, he's like, "i'm keeping u back," she's like "ur not" but she knows he is, etc etc it's very sad and dramatic

so they kind of break up? it's a lil complicated but basically they're not talking to each other for a while, they're on the cat equivalent of "taking a break" ig

alright, so then book 5 happens, and it's jayfeather and cinderheart prepping for the great battle. idk. hollyleaf chills w lionblaze in BGCH and makes friends with ivypool. it's chill. i mean, it's not, but it is.

book six, hollyleaf is the only one to stay in thunderclan. she's kinda j chilling til the battle. and then. and then. oh this is the good part.

she sacrifices her self for ivypool.

yeah. okay, this is super disjoint, so i'm going with it. hollyleaf? done.

#warriors #hollyleaf #fallen leaves #jayfeather #warriors au #q #mine #txt #5th #March #2021 #March 5th 2021 #cloudtail's daughter #long #essay

[thanksjro]

More Than Meets the Eye #13- Swerve Doesn’t Have Any Friends

Okay, let’s go ahead and get this out of the way.

It’s a FUCKING SPORTS BRA AND RUNNING SHORTS ALEX.

And don’t think I don’t see that friggin’ cleavage alien back there. You ain’t slick.

I’m going to make it a law that all comic book artists learn how to draw clothes that don’t vacuum-seal themselves to women’s bodies. Milne gets six months for this infraction alone, and Roche gets a year for the initial bra crime he committed back in Last Stand. Learn how women’s underwear works, you ninnies.

Our issue opens up with Swerve stretching his radio personality muscles.

Oh, Guido Guidi, whisk me away to flights of fancy!

Our artist for this issue is none other than Guido Guidi, ascended from fanwork to deliver us from evil with his near-superhuman ability to emulate other artists’ styles and just make things look really pretty. He was responsible for the mythos pages in the 2012 Annual, AKA the best part. He also filled in on some of the art for Last Stand of the Wreckers, not that I really noticed because he’s just that good.

Swerve lets Blurr know that while it might have looked like the Lost Light had exploded, thus killing everyone onboard back in issue #1, that isn’t actually what happened. I’m glad someone filled in the Cybertronian populace on that.

I was never great at math, but those speech bubbles might be phoning it in a bit.

Swerve says that he’s having a great time on the quest, despite all the hiccups, and we get an explanation for why this long-range communications system hasn’t been seen prior to this point. It’s been broken for a while- most likely due to the quantum jump that started the series off with a bang- but Blaster managed to get it running again. Good job, Blaster. With this little setup for our framing device out of the way, we get into the meat of the story.

Swerve is being nosey about things that weren’t any of his business, happening in a closed off room, when Drift drags him down the hall and hid him away for safety. Swerve doesn’t much appreciate being manhandled, but there’s a method to the madness here.

Drift’s nose has vacated the premises once again, so we’re just going to have to deal with that. And how shapely does one have to be to be known as “the guy with the legs”? I mean, Drift is RIGHT THERE.

Drift uses his own powerful legs to kick down the door to Cyclonus and Tailgate’s room. It turns out that the horrific screaming wasn’t the sound of a murder or sexual relations taking place, but rather that of Cyclonus singing in Old Cybertronian.

My god, he’s completely enamored with this unrepentant murder machine.

We are just all up in Cyclonus’ grill for this panel. Nothing but lips. Was this specified in the script? Because it feels like it might have been specified in the script.

Old Cybertronian, or the Primal Vernacular as some might call it, was last seen in general when Rodimus channeled the will of the trapped Titan all across Tailgate’s chest. It was last seen spoken when we met Vos, the terrible murder gremlin who turns into a gun and uses his face to cause puncture trauma.

Comic books are wild, y’all.

Now that we’ve established that no one’s being killed, Drift goes back to what he was doing earlier, with Swerve deciding to tag along because he’s horrifically lonely. He invites Drift to come room up with him, because I guess if you’re going to sell off your comatose roommate’s bed out from under him, you might as well go for the guy who’s third in command,  is probably one of the hottest guys on the ship, and slices people into chunky salsa if they try anything funny.

Drift politely declines, and awkwardly removes himself from the conversation when Swerve doesn’t take the hint, returning to his sword lesson with Rodimus.

Oh thank god, the obnoxiously pink room is back.

Ultra Magnus bursts into the room, appalled by the actions of his fellow crew members. Some of his concerns are well-placed. Others, well…

Is- is that another friggin’ retainer on those lower teeth? Why does this design choice keep showing up?

So Magnus has imprisoned roughly a third of the ship at this point, and Rodimus suggests he take a chill pill. Magnus doesn’t even know what a chill pill even is, so we’re forced to make use of our most dangerous weapon- the threat of a good time, courtesy of Swerve.

The fact that Ultra Magnus hasn’t reduced Swerve to an oil stain on the floor is genuinely astounding. The guy has zero respect for bureaucracy or proper business management. It has been MONTHS, you dinky little man, get your act together as a business owner.

Swerve takes the bribe, and soon everyone’s shipping off to Hedonia, where the drinks are plentiful and the women… well, most of the Lost Lighters don’t even know what a woman is, so that aspect doesn’t really come into play. Thanks, Furman.

Also, Rung’s back to normal. Don’t worry about it, not a big deal.

Swerve isn’t having much luck on his Roommate Quest, as Tailgate spurns his advances, stating that he’s good kicking it with Cyclonus, mainly because they’re both old as shit.

I see we haven’t quite hit the threshold on the “Cyclonus is allowed to have friends now” meter. Give it a few more issues, I’m sure we’ll get there.

Man, zero for two for Swerve on trying to get a hot roommate. Maybe third time’s a charm?

Rodimus pops into the back of the shuttle to remind everyone that their entire race is more or less despised by the entire galaxy, and to play it safe by using their holomatter avatars.

The revamp by Brainstorm and Rung is truly a blessing, because the avatars in IDW were awful to look at up to this point.

Y’all, that is HOT ROD. Jesus wept.

Getting back to Tailgate’s questionable taste in companionship, Tailgate asks if Swerve and Blurr connected right away. Swerve gives him an affirmative, then starts listing off the guy’s racing stats until Ultra Magnus plops down between the two of them, drawn in by the melodious sound of statistics.

Magnus is having a hard time relaxing, but he’s giving it his best, and I think that’s very commendable of him. It’s hard trying new things.

On the surface of Hedonia, it would appear the B-Movies are having a Pride event in the entertainment district.

Okay, moment of truth- show us those avatars!

Oh thank god, they aren’t totally hideous. Though, isn’t Rewind old as shit? I guess youth is a state of mind. Still, I can’t believe we missed out on silver fox Rewind.

Rung’s line is in response to folks at the time claiming that Rung was a self-insert character, which is interesting, because we’ve already seen what a self-insert looks like when it’s Roberts doing the inserting, and we’ve also seen his Mary Sues.

Rung, while an original character who had appeared in Roberts’ pre-professional works (a single line of text in Eugenesis, where he was a psychiatry play-on-words), he isn’t what I’d consider a Mary Sue. Mary Sues are usually stunningly beautiful, beloved by their peers, insanely talented in ways that no other character is, and typically have some sort of connection to another character that more or less forces them into the story despite not needing to exist.

Mary Sues don’t get their friggin’ heads exploded, or exist in a constantly-forgettable state. Sure, he’s the only therapist we’ve ever seen in the Transformers franchise, but there was kind of a massive need for that sort of character to be created, seeing as all of these sons of guns have PTSD and clinical depression. And, as we’ve seen in previous issues and will continue to see later on, he’s really not even that great at it.

That isn’t to say that he doesn’t have certain traits befitting such a characterization, merely that they don’t add up to equal that sort of whole by issue #13. Transformers (2009)-era Drift is way closer to a true Mary Sue than Rung is.

Anyway, where the hell did Tailgate get to?

They really just let Frodo Baggins in this bar all babybjörned up, huh? Does Tailgate even know what a baby even is at this point? Does he just think he’s a very small person? How much human media has he consumed? We haven’t gotten into the reproductive process for the continuity yet, but fresh Cybertronians aren’t exactly a one-to-one to human infants. Damn it, Roberts, what the fuck am I supposed to make of Babygate?

Whirl’s off in the corner, disguised as a 12-year old girl who’s fucking STRAPPED. Magnus has disappeared, but Rewind locates him pretty easily as Rung makes a comment about Magnus needing to make an appointment with him.

Oh hey, Verity. Been a minute. Careful, ol’ six-eyes over there is leering at you.

The fellas come back to the bar as they truly are, and sit down for a round of drinks. Whirl gets Ultra Magnus a drink that sounds disturbingly like a Cybertronian equivalent to Milk Coke, and we get a little anatomy lesson. Transformers have something called a Fuel Intake Moderation chip, something that keeps them from getting drunk on pretty much the only thing they can consume. Swerve suggests Magnus turn his off so he can have a good time- which I don’t personally agree with, but this is Captain Stick-in-the-Mud we’re talking about here. Magnus gives it a shot.

And that’s a series wrap on Ultra Magnus!

No, the man’s just got no tolerance and has been knocked the hell out by his drink. Things begin devolving. Tailgate is crying. Skids has found out that Whirl didn’t give Magnus Milk Coke at all, but instead the equivalent of liquid cocaine. Swerve is convinced he’s going to prison. Rewind is filming the whole thing.

Nobody actually checks to see if Magnus is actually dead, until Rung gets around to it. Swerve, you’re a doctor by original trade, what the hell are you doing?

The boys sit Magnus at the table to wait out his nap. Hours later, nothing’s changed, except that they’ve started up the nemesis game, and Whirl’s decided he’s going to be rude about monoformers being monoformers. Rung gives a non-answer, because that’s just who he is as a person. Skids names Misfire as his worst enemy, only because he’s still missing a good chunk of memory and can’t remember if he had a worst enemy, but still wants to contribute to the conversation.

Rung, don’t be a dick, he did his best. You were right on top of Fort Max, it was a tricky shot.

Ultra Magnus finally starts waking up, and that’s the point where everyone decides to foot Swerve with the bill for the emotional labor he’s going to have to perform by explaining just what the friggity-frack happened.

Magnus starts laughing, then crying, then offloads his troubles onto Swerve. Magnus feels like he just doesn’t fit in on the Lost Light. He’s just trying to do his job and everyone makes fun of him, or disrespects his authority. He’s trying, he really is, but he’s just not built for post-war life. He’s actually tried to leave his position on the Lost Light, but they just keep pulling him back in.

Probably doesn’t help that Rodimus seems more interested in Drift’s opinion on matters than his own SIC half the time.

Oh no, he’s making digs at the things Swerve’s sensitive about. Where is Rung?

Magnus just wants to be understood, y’know? He’s a fully realized creation. He’s got interests. Like music! And the fact that Swerve is missing his Autobot badge!

This was the point where MTMTE was still bouncing back and forth on whether it wanted to commit to the crotch badge. It was a tumultuous time for everyone, very dark days.

WHERE THE FUCK IS RUNG

Magnus, having had enough of sharing his feelings, takes another sip of his cocaine and slips back into unconsciousness. Swerve admits to his limp body that people don’t actually like him, but rather only stick around because of what he can offer- namely, a good time.

The rest of the Swerve posse comes back, with Cyclones having joined the party. Rung shows off his new model ship, which gets Rewind started on his movie collection. He pulls up the opening ceremony for the Ark 1. Y’know, the Ark 1, that ship that Cyclonus was on that disappeared into the Dead Universe for six million years. The Ark 1 that Tailgate was supposed to be on.

Before we can get started however, someone throws the model at Rewind’s head.

That someone is none other than Cyclonus, who proceeds to fly into a rage, throwing tables and shoving the still-unconscious Ultra Magnus to the floor. My word, what a reaction! What could possibly be setting him off so much? Does he not like being reminded of his fated trip to the stars? Is this a manifestation of trauma from that event?

Who knows? No time for questions, Skids is too busy punching him in the face.

Tailgate intervenes, explaining that because Cyclonus and himself are so goddamn old, the engex Cyclonus consumed is wreaking havoc on his body. He tells the rest of them to go on while he tries to calm Cyclonus down. Interesting that Rewind doesn’t have any sort of input on this, given that he is also super fucking old, but there’s no time for questions! We’ve got to get Ultra Magnus back on the shuttle in the next 20 minutes, or else they’ll be stuck on Hedonia FOREVER.

They start throwing Magnus on the floor repeatedly, trying to get his t-cog to spin up. No dice, however.

It’s 4AM. Do you know where your Domey is? Because Rewind sure as hell doesn’t.

Okay, time for Plan B.

I’m guessing not, Rung. I’m guessing not.

Using Magnus as a trampoline does the trick, and the boys are rewarded with the sight of Magnus’ alt-mode… resting on its roof, upside down. They get him sorted, pile in the cab- Rewind is driving, which leads me to believe he at least has some experience handling a vehicle. Chromedome does turn into a car…

I don’t even know what that sort of activity implies for a Transformer. We won’t go any further down this line of thought.

The boys manage to get Ultra Magnus to the shuttle in time, and all’s well that ends well!

This is about the time that Blaster knocks on the glass at Swerve to wrap things up, seeing as he’s been at this for over nine hours now. There’s one last little aside before we’re done with our story, however, and it involves just what happened in the bar after everyone else left.

Cyclonus calmed down almost immediately after the rest of the guys left, paying for what he broke and inviting Tailgate to have a seat.

Well, I say invite, but it’s really more of an order.

If you’d already figured out at this point that this jumpy little marshmallow was lying about being the biggest badass who ever lived, a gold star for you! It turns out, dear Tailgate has been crafting a fabrication, spinning a yarn, telling a tall tale since Day One on the Lost Light. The story has been feeding us a steady diet of fish the whole time!

Red herring!

Red herring!

Red herring of Tailgate’s own design! Autopedia’s mods are a friggin’ joke.

Tailgate was supposed to be a the Ark 1 launch, but it was because he was on the cleanup crew. Boy’s a sluicer, and his arm SHOULD say "waste disposal”. Through a cunning use of his wits and cold reading, Tailgate faked his way through the dismantling of the bomb on Temptoria. A smart boy, he is, if not a bit self-centered.

Which brings us to why exactly Cyclonus freaked out in the bar: he wasn’t having an episode, but rather faking a reaction to prevent Tailgate’s lie from being exposed. He still thinks that Tailgate should come clean about this whole thing, before things get really messy, but it wouldn’t be an issue of MTMTE without some raw-ass emotions getting thrown about.

Cyclonus, who hasn’t allowed himself to feel anything other than simmering rage or national pride for over six million years, is beginning to feel something for Tailgate.

That feeling is sympathy, and maybe a little pity.

He offers to teach Tailgate a song to help him feel better, because that’s what he does when he has feelings.

And given that Cyclonus seems to sing often enough that Tailgate’s gotten used to the horrific sound, it might be that Cyclonus has feelings a hell of a lot more often than he lets on.

Roberts, how many times are you going to make Tailgate cry? How much pain are you going to subject him to before you’re satisfied?

The scene closes out on the two of them getting their karaoke on in the empty bar, in the god-awful language that is Old Cybertronian. I can only imagine that they get kicked out of the bar pretty quickly after this.

Getting back to the present, Swerve has finally, finally finished his story, closing out with an invitation for Blurr to come visit Swerve’s.

Blaster gets ready to shoot one hell of a voice message at Blurr, but there’s a problem; the number Swerve has isn’t long enough to be a personal hailing frequency.

Yeah, turns out that Tailgate isn’t the only liar on board the Lost Light.

Four million years ago, Swerve met Blurr at a publicity event, got way too friendly with a celebrity, pestered the guy until he gave him a fake number, and has convinced himself that he made a life-long friend to this very day.

Big oof.

Later, back at Swerve’s, Swerve is busy cleaning the glassware when Ultra Magnus comes in, sober and having just gotten out of surgery to fix his fuel tanks. Guess that second sip of Nucleon really wasn’t a good idea.

Swerve tries to tell a lie about what happened the night before, only to have the dawning horror that Magnus remembered the entire night, as he’s presented with a new badge. Swerve, bolstered by the fact that, while Magnus didn’t enjoy the previous evening, he appreciated having company, begins to ask Magnus if he’d want to room with him.

Wow, zero for three! That’s rough, buddy.

Kind of a bummer end to this whole issue, but it was still decently light, tone-wise, for MTMTE. A great deal of fun was had, in between all the mortifying reveals of our characters inner demons.

...Well, shit.

#transformers #jro #mtmte #issue 13 #maccadam #Hannzreads #text post #long post #overthinking about robots #incoming analysis #comic script writing

[apex-academy]

Chapter 5: Caring Is a Hazard to Your Health (#29)

We go through some kind of weird bounce-the-ball-off-the-wall last-man-standing deal, but you’re also not supposed to try to get other people out, and I’m not sure how I’m expected to play this but Tsunyasha’s creaming the whole non-injured league pretty badly, anyway. The final match that’s just her versus the other league’s winner—Kanagi, naturally—is much more exciting to watch, but I flinch every time Kanagi goes for a dive. If she messes up either ankle worse for some stupid game that doesn’t even have an accepted standard name... Well, I wouldn’t really do anything. Maybe be pissed at her for choosing this.

But nothing gets broken, at least not obviously, and she’s declared the winner, again. At least, once Aidan has woken back up. He seems a little off today, but for all I know it’s the ban from color commentary that’s throwing him.

I refuse to rescind it.

For a while the room devolves into Tsunyasha being a sore loser and whatever other words are being thrown around. The acoustics in here are terrible, so I can’t hear a word once more than one person is going after it.

Unless they’re just about right next to me.

“All right... Is that it?”

For one reason or another, he doesn’t get a response from any of the actual authorities here.

“For sports day, you mean?”

“They mentioned moving to other rooms, so probably not.”

“Unless they need to cut it short. Which they fully expected going into this. Do you need to call it a day?”

“.........”

He tries to take a deep breath but just ends up heaving a sigh.

“I haven’t been feeling well lately.”

“If it’s a manner of cancelling the entire event for everyone, I can persevere, but...”

“I...”

“You are seriously injured, you know. I think you’ve pushed yourself enough the past...” How long has it even been now...? “...week or so. It might be catching up to you.”

“...”

“I’ll have plenty of time to rest when this is done. I assure you, I’m quite used to carrying on in such a state.”

“That’s not assuring, actually.”

“I doubt it’s as you say regardless.”

“Oh?”

“.............”

“Kogamino. Do you really think they’ll be okay?”

“ ‘They’?”

“The...”

“The loved ones.”

“Ah...”

I thought it was odd for him to suddenly admit he’s not doing so hot. It’s probably still the burn damage, in part. But he’s literally worried sick now, huh?

Wonder if I should be, too.

“I mean... we already talked about it, right? It'd be hard to follow through on that threat, and it would bring all kinds of attention to Apex. Especially since we’re literally in the school building, as far as I can tell. That would put an end to things really quickly.”

“I won’t pretend I understand what the young master wants, but... I can’t see this kind of massive self-sabotage working into it.”

Unless it’s some kind of publicity deal, or... I don’t know. There are still quite a few of us left to play their game. Surely it’s too soon for a move like that?

“You may say that, but... it...”

“It would be... so easy... for them to kill my mother.”

“...”

Mahavir wavers, nearly falling into the wall behind him.

“If we’re already saying that Monochaperone is bluffing, who’s to say he must be bluffing about the entire thing? How do we know he won’t—won’t simply kill few enough loved ones that it won’t draw attention...!”

“Hey, hang on! He couldn’t do that, either.” I have to stop to find a reason why. 

“Even if he only kills two people, the connection is there. Anyone investigating would see it. So, same issue as before.”

“But what if no one’s investigating it?”

“My mother... My mother is frail enough already they may not even suspect—!” He struggles for a minute to finish the statement, but he can’t get the words out. The point’s clear enough already.

“Mahavir... Try to calm down.”

“...............”

“I... I’m sorry...”

“I-I couldn’t possibly... betray everyone here for... for the off-chance... After everything we’ve... But... I... I...”

“...”

“Excuse me.”

It takes me a minute to locate the speaker. Partly because I’d forgotten we weren’t alone in here, despite all the noise.

“Ah...”

And partly because I’m looking too high.

“Mister Attenborough?”

“..................”

Aidan waits a bit, but it’s clear nothing else is forthcoming here.

“You’re allowed to be worried. It’s only natural, when the lives of people you care about have been threatened.”

“But in the end, there’s really no reason to fear this motive. It’s an empty threat, and it only has as much power over us as we’re willing to give it.”

“How are you so sure?”

“I-if you’ve been listening in for a while, then...”

“Not terribly long, but enough to hear your side of the argument. So answer me this.”

“If Mister Monochaperone was only going to kill some of the loved ones, why would he not admit that from the start?”

“What do you mean...?”

“You would think it would be a stronger motive the greater the number of people in danger, but...”

“As was just discussed, it would make more sense logistically and in any other way for a handful of people, at most, to be at risk. So why would Mister Monochaperone give us a story that’s harder for us to believe?”

“B-because... The more people there are... the more reasonable it would be to kill to save them, yes?”

“Logically, yes. But not many of the... cases here have been based on brutal logic and crunching numbers, have they?”

“.......”

“Each of us is naturally going to be the most concerned for our own loved ones. So that’s what would really tempt someone to kill. Not the numbers. The fact that a specific person or persons you care about are at risk.”

“And even if...”

“...”

“Er, excuse me. Even if the...” It takes him another second to find his place. “...smaller selection of hostages would mean there’s a chance your own loved ones wouldn’t be killed, that wouldn’t be enough to ease your worries altogether, right? Because they are, still, possibly in danger.”

“And if anyone was worried enough to try asking about his or her loved ones specifically, Mister Monochaperone could easily imply that those are, in fact, the ones in danger.”

“So it would really be the same thing we have now. Just more believable.”

“And yet he didn’t choose it.”

“With most of the motives so far, you could almost posit that this is some kind of experiment to see what levels of proof people are and aren’t willing to believe. But that’s just tangential suppositions.”

“The point is, everything points to this being a bluff. It may still be hard not to worry, and I wouldn’t expect you not to. But don’t let it get the best of you. Okay? Those of us in this building are the only ones in danger. The mastermind has to have expended considerable resources just to ensnare this few. It wouldn’t be worth the risk to involve so many more, not like this.”

“.........”

“Right...”

“I... I apologize for the outburst. I didn’t mean to interrupt the festivities. Is there... anything I can help set up...?”

“Well, that’s all for now as far as the gym goes. We’ll be stopping in the cafeteria for a bit next for drinks and to put away the tables. You can certainly help carry them over if you like.”

“Whether or you’re needed for setting up the next event, I’m afraid you’ll have to ask Miss Kogamino.”

“Uh—what?” You sign me up for the competitions without asking, then you sign me up to be in charge of something without asking?

With a grin and no further explanation, Aidan rolls himself away.

“Right. I’ll... assist with the tables, then.”

He takes a deep breath—successfully this time—and starts to wander off. I could stop him, say those of us with fewer injuries can take care of it, but I don’t have a better distraction for him. And God knows he needs one. So I’ll just...

...worry about whatever event I’m apparently hosting. Yeah.

Beats everything else I could be worrying about.

[BACK] [NEXT]

#apexplot #apex5 #fangan

[seizasa-a]

(   PROMPT   )

@daybreakrising​​ WROTE :

five times kissed [Kiba & Hina? if you want!]

(   under read more bc Long   )

—— —   ONE   .

The first time was an ACCIDENT   ,   she swore on her life   .      It was meant to be on the cheek   —— —   a completely &&. acceptably friendly thing to do when one’s teammate presented the home-made meals his mother had so kindly prepared for all four of them   (   Kurenai Sensei included   )   that day   .      She hadn’t announced her intention   ,   of course   ;   the thought hadn’t even crossed her mind   ,   so when she leaned in to deliver her thanks   ,   Kiba’s head turned unexpectedly   .

It was kind of painful   ,   actually   .      A little like getting SMACKED IN THE FACE with someone else’s face   .      They had both staggered backward in surprise   ,   Hinata’s hands rising to cover her mouth as a deep blush rose to her cheeks   .      She stuttered out a squeaky apology through her fingers   ,   which meant that she could barely be heard beyond incoherent mumbling   ,   &&. it didn’t help matters when she turned around to face away from him   ,   hiding her face in embarrassment   .      It was all a good joke to the others   ,   but it took her quite a long time to recover from that fumble   .

—— —   TWO   .

The second time   . . .   was not an accident   ,   per se   ,   but it wasn’t intentional   ,   either   .      Kiba had come to her with an excitedly rushed explanation of this RIDICULOUS GAME he claimed to have learned from Naruto   .      She couldn’t possibly remember what he had rambled off so quickly now   ,   but she did remember how he had stuck the end of a pocky stick between her lips while she was still LOST IN CONFUSION   ,   gently bit onto the other end with a wild grin on his face   ,   &&. asked her if she were ready   .

No   ,   as it turned out   ,   she wasn’t   .      Nothing could have prepared her for when he began rapidly chomping down on the pocky   ,   moving closer &&. closer while Hinata was frozen in place   .      That is   ,   until he got a little too close &&. she panicked in her rising embarrassment   ,   attempting to shuffle backward in all her GRACELESS CLUMSINESS   .      He was already leaning in for that last piece stuck between her lips that   ,   for whatever reason   ,   she didn’t think to simply drop or swallow then &&. there   .

One thing led to another &&. suddenly she was lying on the ground   ,   eyes squeezed shut   ,   &&. a weight on top of her   .      Not only that   ,   but the distinct pressure against her lips had not gone unnoticed either   .      She was too afraid to open her eyes   ,   her face felt much   ,   much too hot   ,   &&. quite honestly she was still reeling from the fall   .      Before she’d completely processed everything that had happened   ,   though   ,   Kiba peeled himself off of her with a chuckle   ,   hovering above her with his hands braced on the ground on either side of her   .      She finally cracked open her eyes just enough to see that grin still in place on his face   ,   albeit this time with a VICTORIOUS EDGE   .

❝      I win   .      ❞

—— —   THREE   .

The third time was undeniably on purpose   ,   though perhaps not entirely a conscious decision   .      Or a good one   ,   for that matter   .      It wasn’t long after she had been   ❛   relieved   ❜   of her status as heiress to the Hyuga Clan   .      It hadn’t yet hit her what no longer having that responsibility on her shoulders would mean &&. she was still very much in the throes of depression &&. self - hatred for being unable to live up to her father’s expectations   .

She had failed   .      It was decided   .      She was worthless   .

As fate was prone to do when she had her solitary episodes of despondency that had always seemed to happen far too often   ,   she was discovered by someone despite her best attempts at hiding   .      She wished people would stop looking for her when she disappeared   .      She wished they would just ignore her   .      It was so easy for everyone to do when she was actually around   ,   so why was it different when she wanted to be alone   ?

It didn’t help that it was Kiba   .      If it were Shino   ,   she might have had an easier time being seen like this   .      Shino was quiet &&. never said much unless prompted   .      Hinata could almost pretend he wasn’t there when he stumbled upon her in these situations &&. had effectively convinced herself of it after the fact on occasion just for her own PEACE OF MIND   .

Kiba   ,   on the other hand   ,   was impossible to ignore   .      His presence was always so noticeable   ,   so significant   .      Not that that was a bad thing   ,   but it made it infinitely more difficult to tell herself that his memory of seeing her like this would be as FORGETTABLE as she was   .

Nonetheless he tried to comfort her   .      It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate it   —— —   truly   ,   she did   —— —   but she hated feeling like this &&. being a burden on others because of it   .      Somehow these thoughts had managed to slip past her lips unbidden &&. that certainly got his attention   .      He had grabbed her chin   ,   the other hand on her shoulder   ,   &&. forced her to look at him so that he could tell her directly to her face that she was &&. never would be a burden for simply having emotions   .

Something about the way he said it gave her pause   .      It wasn’t that nobody had ever told her that before   (   in fact   ,   she was pretty sure someone always gave her some similar reassurance at least once during these talks she hated so much   )   but it was the look in his eyes   ,   the way they seemed to catch the light at just the right angle   ,   &&. the firm hold he had on her as if he had put all the conviction in the world into those words   .

It was an impulse   .      He reminded her of someone else   .      She was hurting &&. she knew that didn’t excuse it   ,   but that was the reality in that moment   .      She was the one who leaned forward this time   ,   tearful eyes closed   ,   heart racing   ,   aching   .      &&. this time   ,   he was the one who gently pushed her away   .

Before she could let that sink in &&. devolve into even more of a mess than she already was   ,   he pulled her into a hug instead   .      Kiba always gave the best hugs   .      Somehow   ,   it was better this way   ,   &&. even though she cried harder   ,   like every other time   ,   she couldn’t resist that warm safety she felt in his arms   .

—— —   FOUR   .

The fourth time felt like a dream   .      Hinata was in that awkward   ,   in - between stage while she grew out her hair on a whim   .      Kiba must have picked up on how self - conscious she’d been lately   (   much of which had nothing to do with her hair &&. a lot to do with why she still wore long sleeves   )   because he had made the decision that the two of them needed a fun night out   .

The concept of   ❛   FUN   ❜   was still so strange to her   .      She hadn’t been allowed many freedoms as a child &&. her own mental health hadn’t exactly been very conducive to boldness &&. spontaneity   .      She was gradually becoming more comfortable with spending time with her teammates   ,   though   .      That was fun   .

It occurred to her then   ,   though   ,   that she had never spent time with Kiba alone   .      Outside of the occasional MENTAL BREAKDOWN   ,   that is   .      She found herself inexplicably nervous   ,   chalking it up to a fear that he might get bored if it were just her without someone else to be more entertaining   .      She thought Shino was more entertaining than she was   .      He knew a lot of facts &&. could always find something to talk about   .      Hinata was   . . .   plain   .      Uninteresting   .

&&. Kiba   . . .      Kiba was wild &&. full of excitement &&. energy   .      Hinata was sure she would have been LEFT IN THE DUST as they went to this place &&. that all around the village if not for the fact that he held her hand the entire time   .      They played games they came across   ,   checked out a few different shops   ,   enjoyed a nice meal in a restaurant   ,   &&. then found a nice   ,   high vantage point with a clear view of the sky as dusk settled   .

He pointed out how the clouds on the horizon made silly shapes   ,   then did the same when the sky grew darker &&. the stars emerged   .      She had to correct him once when he pointed at an actual constellation   .      Then he asked her the names of different groups of stars   ,   if they had one   ,   &&. promptly came up with one on the spot if they didn’t   .      Hinata was surprised to find herself laughing &&. smiling so much   .      She certainly felt lighter in that moment than she had in a very long time   .

She had glanced over at him &&. found his bright eyes trained on the stars   .      She was a bit mesmerized with how they SPARKLED in his gaze   ,   taking it upon herself to count each one   .      Her staring didn’t go unnoticed for very long   ,   though   ,   &&. when he caught her from his peripheral   ,   she astonishingly didn’t look away   .      He looked at her fully &&. for what felt like a long time they simply gazed at each other in silence   .

She wasn’t sure who moved first   ,   but she thought maybe they both did   .      It was slow   ,   as if it weren’t happening in real time   ,   &&. she felt a bit ticklish   ,   for lack of a better word   ,   like a light   ,   feathery feeling that kept drawing her in   .      &&. soon enough   ,   her lips met the source of that feeling   ,   a barely - there brush of skin before they committed to it   .

It was electrifying &&. so different from all the other times   .      This one was DELIBERATE   .      This one happened because they both wanted it to happen   .      It was also a bit scary   ,   in a way   ,   considering their shared history with this sort of thing   ,   but   . . .   it was good   .      It was better than good   .      It felt as if they stayed that way for hours &&. they very well may have   .      It was hard to keep track of time like that   ,   but she knew that the longer they kissed   ,   the less she wanted it to stop   .

—— —   FIVE   .

The fifth time was   . . .   awkward   .      Well   ,   in fairness   ,   it didn’t start awkwardly   ,   but that quickly changed when what had begun as little more than a WARM WELCOME to her new apartment took a turn for something a bit more   ,   ah   ,   heated than she had been expecting   .

She didn’t mind how intense &&. hands - on he could be sometimes   .      In fact   ,   she enjoyed it   .      It made her feel wanted   ,   like he was actually happy being with her   .      It was just that this time felt a little   . . .   seductive   .

The fear settled in quickly   ,   but she kept quiet about it   .      In fact   ,   she didn’t do or say anything to discourage him   .      She simply let it happen because she knew that was what he wanted &&. she was so   ,   so terrified of giving him a single reason to be unhappy with her   .      She was afraid of being the one to drive this wedge between them   ,   so she endured   .

Afterward   ,   she slipped into the shower to cry   .      It wasn’t because of what had just happened   .      It was because it reminded her all over again how BROKEN she was   .      She would never understand the desire   ,   the urge   ,   &&. she knew that one day he would notice that &&. take offense to it &&. she wouldn’t be able to explain herself because she had no explanation   .

She wanted nothing more than to make him happy   .      She would be whatever he needed her to be   .      She would do whatever needed to be done to make sure that he never suspected anything was amiss   .

It was necessary   ,   it was right   ,   it was what she was supposed to do   .

#&&. ❛ ANSWERED ❪ to whom it may concern . ❫ #daybreakrising #&&. ❛ INTERACTION ❪ every action is an act of creation . ❫ // hinata #this occurs throughout multiple verses so i just will not tag any #AKSDJF #bon apetit

[sharada-n]

As it is now officially the new year I can share the piece I did for the Papchat Secret Santa 2019 exchange! It was a lot of fun to write some Undertale again that wasn’t so angst focused and more of a fluffy piece ^^

Sans never considered himself to be the responsible adult.

He had found he rather played the part of the fun uncle for Frisk at best and even back when they lived in Snowdin Papyrus was the one always cleaning around the house, cooking, making sure their bills were paid. Sans wasn't very good at worrying about those things, or too lazy to bother with them. But that doesn't mean he can't be the responsible adult if the situation calls for it, everybody has to draw the line somewhere after all.

And Sans draws the line at serious bodily harm.

That's what compels him to say it out loud, even if a bigger part of him knows it's probably useless anyway. "I don't think this is a good idea."

Papyrus laughs. Honest to god cackles and Gaster follows suit, a deep chuckle that kind of catches Sans by surprise. It's been a few weeks, but he still needs to get used to having their father here again. "Having good ideas is not important," Papyrus says, with the kind of overblown confidence people usually display right before they break every single bone in their body and it only makes Sans more nervous. "Having fun is!"

"I'm all about having fun," He answers. "But this particular idea feels a little...deadly."

"I would be offended by your assumption that my calculations are that off," Gaster answers, staring down the hill with an assessing gaze. Sans is quite sure you can't determine the angle of a downward slope with the naked eye but what does he know. "If I wasn't so busy being puzzled by your assumptions that we can die."

"Says the guy who just came back to life after being dead for over a decade," Sans retorts. "Thanks to your calculations being way off I might add."

"Not dead," Gaster shoots back, while Papyrus is busy putting the final touches on their sled. "That would have probably been less... upsetting."

The way he says it is so casual it robs Sans from any response. Their father talks about his accident like it was a momentary stroll to the store that just so happened to delay him for years and as he watches Papyrus unfurl an honest to god sail, complete with little skull flag on the top, Sans wonders how, somewhere along the way, he became the most normal member in the Wingdings family.

"Papyrus," He says, both because their father looks too busy determining their ideal trajectory to pay attention and also because he is seriously worried. "You do know a sail is meant to catch the wind coming from behind, right. To go faster?"

"Excellent explanation of the functionality of sails on boats, brother." Papyrus answers, connecting the mast to their sled. The thing is made entirely from wood and painted expertly by Papyrus himself and it reminds Sans of the bridge back in Snowdin. "Good thing this is not a boat."

"Could have fooled me."

"The sail will be tied up while we speed down, but as we reach peak velocity we can deploy it to slow ourselves to an amiable meander. A reverse sail, if you will." Papyrus stands up, admires his horrid creation like a parent sending their firstborn off to university. "Except the wind is coming from a forward direction instead of backward like a typical ship sail. Which makes it pretty confusing namewise."

"I do believe between the reverse sail, the angle of the descent and the combined weight of us and the sled, the landing will stick," Gaster adds, smiling with unrestrained glee and Sans feels the concern grow. He admires both his father and his brother in their own unique passions for physics, much like his own, but just wishes they would use it for something besides death rides and scattering yourself across time and space.

But to each their own.

"Well, it's your funeral." He says, watching as the other two skeletons fit themselves in the carefully carved out seats Papyrus designed for them, leaving the first one empty. "It certainly was ice knowing you."

"You need some new material." Papyrus answers, without missing a beat, even though he's smiling.

"Now, Papyrus," Gaster says seriously, "Don't give him the cold shoulder."

Groans are all he gets as answer, from both his sons, followed with an empathic: "I will throw myself off this thing mid-ride." By Papyrus.

Then Gaster pulls a lever Sans hadn't even noticed and fire shoots out of the back of the sled, proving that the two exhaust pipes attached there were not merely for show. Knowing Papyrus as he does, Sans really could have guessed as much. He watches in what can only be described as stunned silence, part admiration and part fear, as the thing takes off at an alarming speed, making short work of the flat distance of the hill's summit and then disappearing downward, while Sans looks on.

The rockets give up about one-third of the way down, perhaps because those two had some sanity left in them but more likely because they didn't manage to fit any more fuel into the sled's contraption. Another third and Papyrus deploys the sail, the skull flag at the top flapping bravely in the wind and it takes Sans all but three seconds to realize it's not slowing them down nearly enough. Or at all. Unsurprisingly, as soon as the sled hits a bump it crashes spectacularly, flying in a neat little arc then nose-diving again, throwing both occupants out of the vehicle in an almost impressive display of the unrelenting force of gravity.

Sans holds his breath for a moment, two, then he hears the echoing laughter from the distance and sees Gaster throwing him a thumbs up and he starts sauntering slowly down the hill. No need to hurry, after all.

By the time he makes it down there, a trip that took the sled a few minutes at most but takes Sans a whopping ten minutes at the leisure pace he uses for non-emergencies, Papyrus has already managed to put the thing upright again and is noting the damage, Gaster is scribbling in his notebook with renewed vigor.

"So that went well." He says, while Papyrus lifts him up effortlessly and spins him around.

"It went perfectly!" His brother exclaims proudly, "Better than I had hoped!"

"Did it?" Sans asks as he is put down again, pointing at the warped frame of bottom rails. "Because it looks to me like you crashed."

"Just a little."

"Luckily the snow here is quite thick and cushioned our bodies from exploding into a gazillion tiny bone shards." Gaster adds triumphantly, turning to them.

Sans pushes his hands into his pockets. "What was that about sticking the landing?"

"Well, we probably would have if you had been in the sled. We did calculate for three passengers."

"Thinking I would step into that deathtrap in the first place was your biggest mistake then." Sans laughs but everybody ignores him.

"Sadly we burnt through all our fuel reserves in one go," Papyrus frowns at the rockets as if it was their fault for not being more considerate. "We won't be able to launch it again today to see for different results." Gaster pats him on the back in a consoling gesture.

"That's great because I'm not stepping in that thing," Sans repeats.

Gaster throws him a truly infuriating smirk. "Really, Sans, who would have thought you had become so boring while I was gone."

"I'm not boring for not wanting to die. And not wanting you to die either."

"Sans is very boring." Papyrus agrees with a solemn nod. "He does many things very boringly."

Sans sighs, tries to refrain from cracking his knuckles because he knows how much Papyrus hates it. "Well, excuse me for not wanting to lose something I only just got back, ok?" He mutters and it does stop the others dead in their tracks, smiles falling from their faces suddenly. "We only just got to be together again. There's... there's still a lot I want to do now that we have the chance-"

They are stunned for a moment, Sans doesn't give them much time to think it over though, bending down instead to scoop up a handful of snow and aim it at his father's face. "Like this!"

To his credit, Gaster ducks surprisingly fast for his age and the snowball misses him and hits Papyrus right in the eye instead. Sans burst out laughing at the same moment that Papyrus yelps, shaking the snow out of his socket. His laughter is quickly interrupted by a face full of snow himself however, courtesy of Gaster.

The area quickly devolves into an impromptu battlefield, the sled serving as cover for Papyrus who proceeds to expertly decimate his opponents with his superior aim and effectiveness, rolling masses of snowballs in record time and hurling them with marksman accuracy. Sans could have predicted this, he hadn't won a single snowball fight between the two of them since his brother turned nine, but that didn't mean it wasn't fun. And he definitely got a few hits in on Gaster, who despite his initial ducking wasn't very adept at snowball fighting himself.

By the end, they had no choice but to declare Papyrus the ultimate snowman (a title he chooses for himself) and Sans "soaked to the bone", pun intended. He didn't wear a coat, because the cold usually wasn't a problem, but now both his hoodie and short are heavy with melted snow and too wet for comfort. He grimaces at them.

"I guess we should postpone our sled relaunch until next time," Papyrus says, lifting the entire thing with just one hand. "When I have convinced the black market human to sell me more fuel."

Sans decides to ignore how concerning that statement is, instead focusing on Gaster, busy brushing the snow off his black coat. "Are we going to let him do that?"

"I don't see a reason not to."

Sans nods, "Of course you don't."

"Instead," Gaster says, as they start following Papyrus, who is by now lifting the sled high above his head with the skull flag still waving in the wind. "How about you tell me some of those other things you still want to do together now that I'm back."

"Right," Sans says, and the sky is strikingly clear but with dusk setting in he can just see the twinkle of stars in the distance. "That would be nice."

#Undertale #Sans #Papyrus #w.d. gaster #my writing #hmmmmmmmm first fic of the new year #tho technically written in 2019

[woodsofblight]

Study Break

"Go away, Rayman. I'm busy."

Ly didn't need to open her eyes to confirm he was nearby. Even if her natural senses weren't enough to pick up the telltale signs of him approaching, there was always a peculiar presence around him that would clue her in. It also made it extremely difficult for him to sneak up on her.

"Rude!" he said, the sharp, yet amused scold in his voice almost drawing a smile from her right away.

"I'm meditating."

"No, you're not." his voice got closer, each word accentuated by him hopping across the little lake that separated her home from the rest of the area. "If you were, you would have just stayed silent."

She scoffed, but relented all the same. Trying to pretend like she was deep in thought at this point would have been a childish endeavor. The faint aura of magic around her faded away, as she floated right back down to ground level. By the time she opened her eyes, Rayman was standing before her, not even trying to hide a playful grin. As a proper and dignified fairy, she did not immediately returned the gesture and let her head rest in her palm, as she exhaled in a very theatrical fashion.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Ly asked, stressing her words just a little.

"Murfy's been summoned, Globox is busy." he said, completely ignoring her vague attempt at sarcasm. "So I thought I'd visit. I haven't seen you for a couple days now."

"Just the usual stuff." she shrugged. It was frighteningly easy to slip into a completely casual demeanor around him. "Books, scrolls, incantations stacked right up to the ceiling."

"More training?"

"I'm starting to doubt there will ever be an end to it." she sighed, cracking a small smile nonetheless. "Every time I think I've mastered something, I realize that I'm still barely scratching the surface."

She continued, summarizing some of her recent lessons with her elders, most notably the nymphs. Her explanation veered into technical terms she wasn't sure Rayman had so much as an inkling about, but even if so, his focus did not waver. He was ever the attentive listener, his hair flopping forwards a bit with each and every nod.

"Sounds like you could use some time off." he remarked only once she was done.

"No." she replied, her brow falling a little. "Slacking off is honestly the last thing I should do right now."

"You're not slacking off." he shrugged. How he managed to do that without visible shoulders always mystified the fairy. "You can't be expected to study all the time."

"Even though I really should..."

"Well, you're wrong." he said, extending a hand towards the rest of the Fairy Glade. "That's where you should be more often, instead of those dusty tomes."

She sighed, waving off the friendly suggestion.

"Rayman, I can't. Half the Council have their eyes on me all the time." she said, her tail snaking up to curl softly around her waist. "They expect a lot from me."

"And they'll get it." he flashed a reassuring smile. "Right after you unwind a little, like you planned on doing."

"What do you mean?" she shook her head, somewhat confused.

"Well, you weren't exactly pouring over a book when I arrived..."

The remark was met with immediate retribution, in the form of a harsh tap on his nose with a finger.

"Don't you get cheeky with me, limbless!" she said, a bit of heat rising into her cheeks.

He rubbed his nose, but both of them devolved into a brief stint of laughter. He wasn't exactly wrong, she just didn't want to give him the satisfaction of saying it outright.

"Just a few hours, okay?" he said. "Then you can dive back, if you really want."

"I have a feeling if I go with you, I won't be studying at all today." she raised a brow as a grin crept across his face.

"Luckily, my schedule is all clear." he said. Rayman's attempts at mild sarcasm always came across as infuriating, particularly from someone of his stature.

The fairy sighed one last time, glancing back to her home. She could all but see the books waiting for her, filled to the brim with mystical knowledge. Boring as some of it may have been, she was still fascinated, especially at how much remained hidden to her. Magic was a vast ocean of rules and exceptions and sometimes she almost wanted to just immerse herself to the fullest. And then Rayman would come knocking at her door, pulling her out of the metaphorical dive, as she once more failed to show her face around the Glade for days on end.

Even now, that ocean was inviting as ever. The currents of arcane power, calling out to her to go just a little deeper, to thread paths only the nymphs could ever reach. Sometimes, she even entertained the idea of going beyond those, though whether that would have been curiosity or hubris, she wasn't quite sure. A part of her wondered what or who she might find there.

But as she looked back, Rayman's smiling face met her, his freely-floating hand extended and waiting patiently just for her. Such a peculiar and undoubtedly special being and yet he seemed more embroiled in everyday, mundane life, than anything beyond that. In a way, his insistence on living in the here and now, was perhaps even more fascinating. More than enough to keep even her grounded, at least.

Ly took his hand and stood up, the midday sun combing through her purple locks. She squinted a little, which was more than an apt reminder of how long she's been cooped up again. She looked deeper into the forest, a sense of exhilaration swelling within her chest. As they departed, her steps became quicker, wilder, and it didn't take long before the two broke into one of their playful, yet fiercely competitive little races.

The faint breeze carried their laughter all across the Fairy Glade.

#rayman #ly #fanfic #writings

[readingwebcomics]

Analyzing Questionable Content: Pages 151-200

High school bully or not, I’d like to reiterate the fact that Dora’s presence is so terrifying that it can repel a trained government agent. That’s a level of badass we should all strive to be.

…I mean like, don’t actually beat people up and steal their cigarettes, lung cancer is bad. But still!

Before getting into things, I’d like to open with a little bit of bookkeeping: First, as was pointed out to me by at least two different people, I COMPLETELY misread #123 – it was Marten who was helping Steve out on a date, not the other way around. This was completely my bad, so I personally retract everything I said about Jeph’s timescale.

Secondly, on my point on Dora’s identity crisis, user Scarlet Manuka had this to say:

For the time frame of Dora's goth phase, I think that Jeph is actually trying to present this as a genuine identity crisis for Dora - but it's also likely one that's been a long time building up. She's probably been becoming increasingly disenchanted with it for the last couple of years, and given that Raven complains that she's missed fifteen or so meetings, it looks like she's already subconsciously let it go quite some time in the past. I think we're seeing more the conscious realisation of a process that's already happened. In many ways that's what an identity crisis is: the realisation that the slow incremental changes we all experience every day have added up into something big while you weren't looking, and that something you thought was part of you really isn't any more.

That’s a perfectly fair point and one I didn’t consider. Thanks for bringing this up, under this light the time frame of Dora’s realization and her gradual shift into a different identity over the course of the next few comics makes perfect sense.

Finally, it was pointed out to me by Marco on the QC Forums that it’s only fair to link to the comic itself in these posts. While I had figured it was really simple to find the comic for whoever’s reading it considering it’s one of the biggest, longest running webcomics out there, they do have a point that I at least owe it to supply links to the site in these posts. So from now on, the dumb intro blurb to each of my posts will hyperlink to the first comic in the batch I’ll be talking about. That way, you can read along with the analysis if you so wish. Cool? Cool.

Now with that all out of the way, let’s move on to the analysis. Agent Turing has nope’d out and Dora saw herself out, letting Marten know that if he buys her dinner she’ll call it even.

This is a weird case of me totally getting WHY Jeph’s going this particular direction – he needs Marten and Faye at an ice cream shop to reveal a bit more about Faye’s backstory, which we’ll be touching on a bit later – but the particular setup for doing this feels… off. This right here reads like a textbook case of a writer going “Fuck, how do I get these characters to do XYZ…” and this being the best solution they could come up with. What’s worse about this is that only a few panels later, Jeph offers a much better alternative:

Literally all he had to do was have Faye be the one to bring this up: Instead of the panel with Marten blatantly asking “So THAT happened, what do you want to do now?” have Faye be the one to bring up that Marten owes her a little something for helping out with the situation, he brings up the ice cream parlor and then the rest of the comic goes on as normal. This may sound pedantic, but it’s a case where just a slight change in wording makes all the difference between sounding contrived and sounding natural.

I have… issues with this comic.

On one hand, Faye is opening up more about her past. A small, innocuous thing spurred her on to open up a little more to Marten, the reminder cracking her mask and showing just how much trauma she’s really containing within. You can tell this is more than just “bringing back memories” – his death had a profound impact on her, there’s something she’s not wanting to bring up or discuss but is being partially dragged to the surface. This is good character writing, and an amazing step in Faye’s character arc. It spurs curiosity, sparks intrigue, makes you WANT to keep reading to see the next time Faye’s mask cracks because you want to see what she’s hiding underneath it.

On the other hand… there’s no nice way to say this – at this point, Jeph is not talented enough at drawing to portray this from an imagery standpoint. The faces are too stiff, the expressions to stock. Faye doesn’t look like tears are escaping from her despite her best efforts to keep a straight face, she looks like she’s mildly disinterested and a blue line to represent tears was drawn on top of her face. Writing can take you far, but the thing about comics is that the written word is only half of the story. Anything you sell with words, you need to also be able to sell with expressions, with physicality and staging.

I’m not an expert in art – not by a LONG shot, I couldn’t draw a comic to save my life – so I can’t exactly offer any advice on how he could’ve made this work better. I’m at least glad to say that with time Jeph came to improve his artistic style, making moments like this feel a lot more natural down the road. He eventually gets comfortable enough with his drawings that he’s able to tell a story using JUST body language, which is admirable. Clearly, we’re not there yet… and unfortunately, it hurts the mood that this comic is trying to sell.

After a week of guest comics, we continue the story with Faye sharing stories about her childhood with Marten, showing just how comfortable she’s become around him that she feels at ease sharing details about her past she likely wouldn’t share otherwise.

Oh, and we’ve got some revelations about Marten’s past here. The Thanksgiving comic where he talks about how his family drives him crazy is starting to make more sense now, isn’t it?

Here, we see three things displayed. First, the fraction used in Marten’s dialogue instead of just saying “half”. I… don’t get why that is. It makes me irrationally angry though. I’m aware that’s fully on me.

Second, this serves to showcase both Marten’s blasé attitude about his strange upbringing and offer potentially an expiation as to why he seems so passive about everything. I’ve offered up the idea in a previous post that when he goes out and makes a choice, it’s enough to completely shift his entire world, so that may have served to encourage him not to not want to rock the boat and keep his head low. This, however, might serve as an alternative explanation, or at least another piece of the puzzle – growing up in a… let’s call it “untraditional” household where his parents were clearly quite open about what they were doing with his son, the fact that Marten grew up to be rather milquetoast serves to make a certain degree of sense.

Third, Marten’s being sassy. I like when Marten’s sassy. As I said, his character kind of… devolves in later comics, so seeing him have a spine enough to throw this out is always fun to read. Plus, it also serves to showcase how comfortable the two of them are with each other that Marten can sling this stuff out without fear of retaliation.

Setup...

The next day, Faye’s leaving for work when a surprise visitor comes to their door.

Marten’s comment always makes me laugh. This comic in general is just hilarious, from Amanda – Faye’s sister’s name is Amanda by the way – triple bomb thrown right into Faye’s lap to Faye’s 404 error to Marten not even missing a beat in his reaction to what’s going on in front of him.

Honestly, I’m with Marten here. And once again, I’m afraid I have to point out the fact that Jeph isn’t quite talented at drawing facial expressions yet ruins the punchline to Faye’s joke in the last panel. At least the writing serves to keep the humor going strong, and don’t mistake me here – these next few comics are gut busters. I fucking love the chaos Amanda causes by just stepping into their lives.

Oh yeah, I guess I should talk about Amanda now, shouldn’t I? Well, uh. Hm. She’s a Lesbian. And she’s a bit of a troublemaker. And like a little bit of a ditz?

…yeah that’s literally all I can think to describe her as. Cut me a little bit of slack here though, at the time of writing we’re on page 4010 and I’d be genuinely surprised if Amanda was in more than 50 pages total. The only real significant things I can think to say about her as a character is how what she says and does serves to inform Faye’s character.

Like right here – we can see the whole “doesn’t plan much further than the very next step you’re about to take” mentality runs in Faye’s family. Also, Jeph’s trying different angles out! Good on him, even little changes like this can serve to make the action feel at least slightly more dynamic!

“Clitoriste” is an amazing word and I hope to find a way to work it into at least one conversation before I die.

Amanda hangs around the coffee shop, swapping sex stories with Dora as Faye desperately tries to claw her own eardrums until Marten comes along. And as I’m saying this, I realize with hindsight that Dora’s being super cool right now, not only letting her loiter around her business but also realizing she was kicked out of her house at least in part because of her sexuality and so is letting her know “Hey, fucking girls is AWESOME, right?” to keep her mind off current events. The more I talk about Dora, the cooler she gets, seriously.

“Aerodynamically curvaceous” is another amazing phrase, this one great enough that Jeph eventually made it into a T-shirt. Seeing as I have as many curves on me as a string bean does, there’s no way I could get away with wearing it myself, but the fact that the shirt exists makes me a little happier to be alive.

Anyway, this comic goes on to show that despite the circumstances, Amanda is taking this rather well all things considered, and Faye has faith that given some time to sit with the information their mom will come around… Also that Faye was a damn good student, which might go on to explain how she was able to absorb so much information about guitars when her ex rambled on about them so much – she just retains information THAT well.

This comic… raises a LOT of questions. The last comic involves characters from another webcomic entirely, making this a fun little Easter Egg/crossover sort of deal. That being said, this raises a LOT of questions about the continuity of QC. Does it take place within the universe of Diesel Sweeties? Or does Diesel Sweeties exist within the universe of QC? The fact that we have a humanoid robot here – does that serve to shed a light on AI development in the QC universe? Did Jeph consider what AI development there would be at this point in writing? I assume not, as thus far the only intelligent devices are Anthro PCs. Is Clango an Anthro PC? Is he a prototype of a more advanced synthetic?

These are questions that were never intended for me to ask, aren’t they? Yeah. That’s what I figured. Considering the fact that Amanda has a girlfriend is canon, and the following phone conversation on the next page is canon as well, the best way to rationalize this is to just pretend that last panel doesn’t exist. Remove it entirely, and this strip fits in perfectly with QC’s established continuity and universe thus far.

Unless you REALLY want to find a way to fit Diesel Sweeties into QC’s universe, which I suppose wouldn’t be that difficult considering it’s a non-plot focused gag-a-day comic, but that’s entirely up to you.

Oh, and speaking of the conversation the two have over the phone:

Credit where it’s due, Dora’s expression on the first two panels is clearly different from the standard set of facial expressions Jeph usually puts on everyone. It’s always nice to see some experimentation! And here’s another situation where Amanda’s main purpose is to drive forward Faye’s character – here we get another hint of something that happened in her past, confirmation that she hasn’t dated anyone in a long time and some kind of source of a reason why she hadn’t. The scar on her chest, the death of her father, the lack of a love life stemming from some event… pieces to the Faye puzzle are falling into place, but we still don’t have everything. We’re given just enough to inspire further curiosity though, which – and I know I’ve said this a hundred times before, but I will say it a hundred times again – is good character writing.

…all that said, I sincerely hope that phone was shock proof. I don’t think her Mom’s exactly going to be in the mood to get her a new one.

Considering Amanda stole her credit card and all, I don’t blame their mom for being furious at her. That said, it’s nice to see that it didn’t take long at all for her to calm down and want to talk things over.

And here, we have specific confirmation that there was a set of “circumstances” that led Faye to want to leave home and move up here. Another piece of the Faye mystery falls into place.

Amanda’s immediately heading off to the airport to return home, leaving Marten and Faye to reel in the wake of an… I’d say it’s fair to call it an intense day.

HAH! If you haven’t read all the way through QC, you don’t understand why that’s so funny in hindsight. Trust me, give it another few hundred comics and it’ll make sense. God, I wonder if that specific reference was intentional on Jeph’s part, or if he just likes Vespas? Then again… he IS an anime buff, it’s entirely possible both events stem from FLCL.

Oh hey, there’s that pink Anthro PC again. We saw them back at the LANPark. Haven’t added them to the character list though since we don’t even know their name, but it seems like Pintsize has friends and a life off-panel. Good for him! I do wonder what ends up happening to these guys later though… Most likely they all just drift apart and move on with their lives.

...Why am I so sad all of a sudden?

And here we see an example of the two of them openly flirting with each other, dipped deep in sarcasm of course but that’s just how these two roll. Their inter-personal relationship has progressed really well and at a nice, natural pace so far. At this rate, something should be coming to a head very soon – either one or the both of them need to acknowledge the fact that they’re getting closer, or something’s going to happen that will throw a monkey wrench into the dance they’re performing.

Ugh. I’m coming to hate whenever Marten says “What do you want to do now?” Maybe it’s just me, I’m willing to accept I’m reading too much into this, but whenever he says that all I hear in my head is Jeph going “I can’t think of a more natural way to transition into this next scene so I’ll have Marten ask this question to push the scene forward.” It just feels like bad storytelling to me, it really does.

Now, I need you to hold onto your seats right now, because what you’re about to read next might just be the greatest comic you’ve ever read in your life. The mere act of seeing this may very well knock you out of your seat. Are you ready for this? I don’t think you are – I don’t think ANY of us are. Brace yourselves.

My man, Jimbo! And yes, he is officially called Jimbo now, so we’ll be changing the name in the character stats screen at the end of this post. And this man, this absolute LEGEND, is living the dream – quitting his blue-collar job to pursue his passion in writing! He’s worked hard to get where he is in life, and now that he’s here, the fruits of his labor are paying off! As a commercial electrician who’s writing on the side, I strive to be like Jimbo one day. God bless you, you absolute PINNACLE of human achievement!

I can’t NOT show off more Jimbo comics, he’s just that great. Also, Faye’s drunken antics are fucking hilarious.

Credit where it’s due to Faye for not only helping Jimbo out with his writing but also doing it as a completely on-the-spot Haiku, while totally piss drunk. Not even going to lie, that takes talent.

Faye’s willingness to engage in behavior like this raises… questions. Questions that I’m not entirely comfortable asking right now considering the author’s own past with alcohol. I’ll touch more on it when we reach the batch of comics 501-550, I’m going to need more time to prepare myself to talk about it in a way that’s as respectful as possible.

And finally… the moment of truth. When long-time readers of QC remember the Pre-500 era, there are two things that come to our mind: The actual conversation that happens at issue 500 that marks the transitional phase of QC into the kind of webcomic it is today… and the headbutt-crotch-vomit comic.

Behold.

I’m not even going to try offering commentary here. Absolutely nothing I could say can be better than what you just witnessed in this comic.

This page right here… it has an interesting dynamic between its first and last panels. Panel one, again, Jeph takes the time to make a new facial expression for Faye as she’s waking up, one that looks nice and works with the dialogue to communicate how she’s feeling. And then in the last panel… well, I don’t think it’s exactly controversial to say that her face in the last panel doesn’t communicate the confusion and rage she’s supposed to be feeling as expressed in the dialogue, is it? Jeph is getting there, his artistry is clearly evolving, but he’s not quite talented enough to pull it all off quite yet. Still, little improvements should be applauded!

And here we get another character confirming suspicions raised back in #172, that being Faye clearly has some relationship hangups stemming from something happening in her past. This raises some concerns considering their more flirtatious behavior around each other and their developing inter-personal relationship. At this point, SOMETHING has to happen to inspire a reaction or change out of one of the two, or they may very well find themselves trapped in stagnation… keep that in mind for a little while longer. On the art side of things, something to note that I just realized… Steve has a shine in his eyes to make them look more natural and full of life, but Marten’s doesn’t. Is there any particular reason for this? And why am I noticing it just now? Actually looking back a few comics, the “shine in the eyes” detail only started with #186… again, in all characters except Marten. Is there a significant reason for this? Or is it just a detail that’s easier to do with the shades of color in people’s eyes except for Marten’s for whatever reason? I don’t have an answer, but it’s something to keep in mind at least while we watch the art evolve.

Also, one more thing?

Either Marten’s a liar, or Faye’s ass is just THAT good that it converted him. My money’s on the latter, considering people routinely talk about how baller Faye’s ass is.

Yes, I did just use the word “baller” unironically. No, I don’t have any shame, thanks for asking.

…payoff. 

And again with the fucking contraction thing… It’s not subtle if other characters are pointing it out! I know, I’m the only person willing to die on this hill, and I KNOW it’s long-passed and nobody’s concerned about it anymore, but it genuinely bothers me! This is a stupid character traits that… bah, I’m not going to repeat myself again. On a lighter note, this particular comic showcases how much better Jeph’s gotten at drawing faces. It’s not much, but it’s better than the stock expressions that most characters usually wear, and you can see some subtle actions and thoughts expressed in the way Dora or Faye’s eyebrows move, in which direction their eyes are facing… it’s nice stuff.

I won’t show everything in these next three comics, but I wanted to showcase this series of events at least because this is some good character writing that says a lot about both Steve and the new girl Jeph introduces.

Setup…

Payoff…

…and subversion of expectations.

Sorry Marten, but I’m with Steve here 100%. That was clever, well-played, and EXTREMELY hot all at once. It’s too bad we don’t end up seeing much of Ellen after this because she has SUCH a strong established introduction.

And what fortunate timing – we have another collection of guest comics, which ends RIGHT at #200:

And here we go – the spark of conflict in the relationship dynamic between Marten and Faye that I predicted we needed. How’s Faye going to deal with this? How’s Marten going to deal with this? What if on this date it turns out he’s actually, seriously interested in Dora? Would this push Faye to action? She’s made it clear, at least to the people around her, that she’s not interested in pursuing something with Marten… so what if someone made her put her money where her mouth is? Well, we’ll find out one way or another come the next batch of comics.

While we’re still talking about this batch however, let’s do our usual deal of comparing the art shift between the first and the last comics in the batch:

This is a clear-cut example of a lot of small, subtle tweaks happening over the course of a long enough period of time making a clear, distinct difference. The biggest change, of course, being the faces of everyone as I’ve been bringing up all throughout this post – everyone looks so much more EXPRESSIVE. You can get a proper read on someone’s mood based on just how they look alone now, and I find that super impressive… admittedly, it also makes me wish that Jeph could/would re-do the ice cream comic in this newer art style to properly capture the expression on Faye’s face that he wanted to capture, but you know. Would’ve, could’ve, should’ve.

So what did I think of this batch of comics so far? Personally, I think it’s the best batch yet – the best improvement in art, the most introduced on Faye’s character, the best sarcasm from Marten… a LOT was improved in this batch, and that deserves praise. I like where the plot is going, I want to know more about Faye, and I am hooked on the will they/won’t they story, especially with the newer developments in the complexities of their relationship web coming into play.

All that said, let’s take a look at the data analysis for this particular batch:

Marten: 34/50 – 68%

Faye: 33/50 – 66%

Dora: 12/50 – 24%

Amanda: 12/50 – 24%

Steve: 6/50 – 12%

Pintsize: 5/50 – 10%

Jimbo: 3/50 – 6%

Ellen: 3/50 – 6%

Turing: 1/50 – 2%

Grand Total:

Marten: 166/200 – 83%

Faye: 163/200 – 81.5%

Dora: 51/200 – 25.5%

Pintsize: 50/200 – 25%

Steve: 22/200 – 11%

Amanda: 12/200 – 6%

Sara: 7/200 – 3.5%

Jimbo: 5/200 – 2.5%

Turing: 4/200 – 2%

Raven: 3/200 – 1.5%

Ellen: 3/200 – 1.5%

Scott: 2/200 – 1%

Miéville: 1/200 – 0.5%

Ell: 1/200 – 0.5%

Do note that in this last batch, 12 of the 50 were non-canon guest comics, so I didn’t count any characters showing up in any of them. Either way, it looks like Amanda was in enough comics to create a barrier in the stats between main and major supporting characters and minor characters as far as amount of time they’ve shown up in the comic goes. I don’t know if anyone else finds that as interesting as I do, I just think it’s neat.

In any case, tune in next week for the exciting conclusion to the double-date story! And a trip to the hospital!

…the two things aren’t related, I swear. See you then.

#Questionable Content #Faye #Marten #Pintsize #Dora #Steve #Long-Form Analysis #Analysis