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progressive-waves-art · 3 months

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A Very, Very Unfinished Pile of Theory of Everything Headcanons (Ayreon)

Last semester, my English final was a presentation relating the overall theme of the Forever saga to that of the more popular works of H.G. Wells. Details of that argument aside, the thesis was that Ayreon’s emotional core was the presence of small-scale acts of love juxtaposed against large-scale existential tragedy, balanced in their individual power. That we are messy and self-destructive, and in the grand scheme of things we mean very little in the universe, but we are resilient and alive and human and that has to be worth something.

I really like this aspect of the main story, and it got me a perfect score on that assignment. It had a ten minute time limit and I was fighting for my life to stay under it. While I was downsizing the script, I couldn’t help but think of an earlier idea I had drafted about how The Theory of Everything on its own was a really incredible example of the mad scientist archetype turned completely on its head (it was a science-fiction analysis class). Specifically how that script was almost three times longer than the original H.G. Wells one, that took me a solid twenty minutes to read aloud.

I literally wrote an hour long lecture about The Theory of Everything. No headcanons. No extra theories. Literally just picking apart its canon plot.

I think this is why I have so little extra writing for it. The story as its given is airtight and just…fucking incredible. Arjen wrote it with a very clear theme in mind like he did with Transitus, but TToE isn’t missing half of its story because he couldn’t pull in the cash to make a movie out of it. You can feel the intention behind every single character, they feel like real people, it has so many layers to it and it is literally, objectively, the greatest prog album ever made. Fight me.

But anyways: For lack of better phrasing, there isn’t much to “fix” in that sense. Almost all the headcanons I have for The Source or Transitus boil down to a few things:

I was being self-indulgent with a favorite character and it snowballed into a genuinely informative trait/subplot that informs the main story (a certain hc I have where Henry just fucking shoots Daniel in the back by mistake sometime between Two Worlds and Talk of the Town, turning into this weirdly effective commentary of how Daniel is conditioned to his brother’s shitty behavior and Abby hauling ass to get him out of that headspace)

I am curious about aspects of an album’s worldbuilding and get a little excited while filling in the blanks that were perfectly fine being left alone (doing mental gymnastics trying to build a version of The Source where these five academics, three politicians, two religious figures, one robot and one random spaceman viably know each other)

The rarer option that I am genuinely disappointed by how a part of the story was handled and completely ignore this small part of canon to make the overall story be more effective. Or attempt it, at least (Lavinia’s entire character undermining Transitus’ themes and her contradicting her own motivations, and me, in turn, just writing her character from scratch while keeping with the basic story beats [her seeing ghosts, doing shady shit with Henry, etc.])

But with TToE I’ve felt very little need to do any of these. If I were to really dive into it with intention I think I would start building off of the whole bank robbery plot in Phase III (just a slightly weirdly framed plot point for me), but I haven’t thought about it. It’s not that glaring of an issue and there’s few other places in the story where I think adding anything would make it more effective.

This isn’t to say that Transitus and The Source are objectively worse in any sense, but they leave a lot more up to interpretation, allowing me to write so many add ons that they become structured and essential to each other’s function.

It’s fun with those two albums. With TToE I really have to look for cracks to fill and it’s kind of useless.

Not entirely, though. I’ve got a few hcs, and maybe they’ll warrant dozens of google doc pages of context one day like the other two albums:

Two central things sparked curiosity. Setting, and how the parent characters came to hate each other that much. Naturally.

This started four-ish years ago when I was pacing around my parents’ house with TToE on the mind (as it often is), and my brother put on this show called His Dark Materials. I watched the intro to it all of one time and just…knew this was the aesthetic TToE should have.🔗 At least combined with dark academia. It’s an album about physics and ghosts, that seems reasonable enough.

…funnily enough, as I later found out, His Dark Materials itself has a very dark-academia-esque vibe, and the plot is entirely based upon the intersectionality between science and mysticism and trivial human attempts to make sense of it.

So. Pretty fitting.

This really stuck with me, and a handful of the characteristics of the show and books became the basis for the way I picture The Theory of Everything. Mainly the visual aesthetic, like I said, but also the fact that the story starts at a parallel version of Oxford University. I don’t have some giant case study for this like with Transitus/New England. I just think it’d be a cool and vibey setting. Maybe it’s the American in me but there’s something about a thousand-year-old college with a campus made of literal goddamn castles that borders on the fantastic.

From there, you have a decent excuse for The Prodigy to run off to Ireland, where you can choose from one of like 200 different pretty little isolated lighthouses for him to lose his mind in, far enough away for him not to be found as long as he did. Not to mention it lowkey matches with the overt Celtic influence of the music. Or Scotland, if you want some weather symbolism from the North Sea.

Solid setting, if I say so myself, and it actually influenced the family’s whole situation. Here, The Father (Mike) is a physics professor at Oxford, and The Mother (Cristina) is the director of the Bodleian Library. It’s how and where they meet in 1991 (though the mother is in an attendant position at the time), as shown by the only part of this I have drawn out:

They hit it off, and marry in 1993. Their first and only child is born two years later and they love him half to death. Everything is more or less nice and normal.

In 1996, Mike stumbles into “proof,” more or less, of the theory of everything being a singular, solvable equation through his work, practically by accident, and begins focused work on it with enthusiastic support from his wife. Life is going great, Cristina is promoted and the two are balancing things well enough.

The boy shows little to no social development into his toddler years, but his parents don’t think much of it. His father was similar at his age; they’re not worried. They even go as far to say he’ll turn out just as ambitious and smart as his dad and relatives, coworkers and family friends go along with it, setting insanely high expectations for this literal three year old. Mike keeps working on his theory.

The boy enters preschool at age four; still no improvement. Just isolates himself and draws indiscernible patterns on everything you put in front of him. His parents finally try to intervene to some degree, hiring private instructors and talking with some other psych/child development people they know through the university, to no avail. Nothing changes. He just stares off into space, doesn’t interact with any of them and supposedly doesn’t pay attention to lessons. He still isn’t speaking. Cristina is finally concerned

Around the same time, Mike makes a significant breakthrough in his work, gaining worldwide attention. He receives massive grants from in and outside of Oxford to continue his work, and quits his teaching job to make more time for the endeavor. Cristina is left as the family’s sole provider. She understands and is in agreement on that decision, that’s not the problem yet. The problem is that Mike is becoming more or less indifferent to their son hits five, not seeing any previously projected greatness he was supposed to have in his father’s footsteps. Cristina, much more conscious of balance in her life and how having kids works, isn’t sure what to make of that. Their relationship starts to strain.

From there, as Mike keeps working, Cristina takes the kid to all sorts of specialists around England but none of them can pinpoint what’s “wrong” with him. She tries much more actively to connect with him like they’re telling her to (though she still enrolls him in the university’s affiliated primary school program, against their suggestions), bringing him everywhere. Buys him little memory games since that’s all that seems to hold his attention. She’s past any belief of him being some secret genius like his dad, not that her opinion of her husband is super positive at this point anyway. She’s just dead-set on her son having some sense of normal in his life.

By 2002, Mike has completely secluded himself and works nearly constantly. He has made no progress on his theory since 1999 and the fame garnered from his breakthrough has faded. The family is running out of money and Cristina is exhausted. The boy is ostracized at school and still (almost) totally nonverbal. Her coworkers keep suggesting these weird holistic remedies that she refuses. She knows better than to fall for all that new age, pyramid scheme bullshit.

The son’s condition, whatever it is, worsens until mom, desperate, puts her foot down in 2008 (or “gives up,” if you wanna put it like that) and drags her husband and son to this private practice in Scotland she was told about by a friend, suspicious but ready to put up with anything at this point.

😐👍

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yanderefairyangel · 7 months

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I wonder, are you going to do 3H analysis like for your Engage post ?

No, and for several reasons.

1/ The reason why I decided to make Engage analysis and went as far as using the jpn text as a reference for my commentaries is because I am tired of the constant negativity and hatred against a game that is genuinely top tier Fire Emblem, with amazing characters and a good and solid story. This is something I have never done before, for no game at all. That's something I usually do with literary works, I never did it for a video game. I did for Engage because I ended up noticing it did a lot of good things and wanted to show that credit is due

2/ I am afraid that with 3H I won't be able to enjoy it because I might spend more time dwelling onto the game's narrative flaws and things of the sort then what it does good, mainly because those flwas weaken greatly what it does good and I don't want to annoy 3H enjoyers who follow me or 3H enjoyer at all.

3/ 3H already gets a lot of analysis even by people who claim it's badly written so I don't think I might have much more to say, while with Engage, seeing how everyone is snobbing the game, it leaves me the opportunity to do the analysis job even if I am not the only blog who does that and they are other blog who offers more relevant analysis then me.

4/ Engage is a simplier game and a shorter story, so it's easier to go replay it or recheck info and data for analysis sake then for 3H which makes it much more welcoming to analysis and funnier on the top of that. Add to that a genius gameplay it makes the experience a lot funnier whil 3H has too much information to treat and check and a tedious gameplay. And while some people seems to think that "the more you have to offer on analysis, the better !" it's not true. The real skill of talented writers is that with very few elements, they are able to stock a lot of valueable info that you can exploit in analysis, rather then 1 002 elements to analyse. For example, in Albert Camus's infamous incipit for L'étranger, with the most famous sentence "Aujourd'hui Maman est morte. Ou peut-être hier, je ne sais pas" you can find 1 000 of elements about the mind of Mersault, what this sentence says about him, how paradoxical it is that this mind manages to mistake something that is supposed to have happened in the present with something that might have occured in the past etc. It's a few lines, but the structure hides a lot of meaning within it. And it's therefore probably richer if not more then having one hundred elements supposed to be analyzed. Not saying Engage is the same level, but stuff like that is what is worth digging to see if something is really a well crafted writing.

#fire emblem #fire emblem engage #fe engage

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antigoneblue · 3 years

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quick, non-poemmic updates!

i wasn’t going to do this, but then realised that it’s TRULY been a while, so maybe something like this isn’t totally out of order :’)

some of you might’ve noticed that my old sideblog, @redeyecyanide, no longer exists / is no longer accessible. i figured i’d explain that, so that nobody worries about me or worries that something bad might’ve happened that resulted in that.

i’m also kind of in a new era of my life, so i figured we’d talk that through, as well. i’m happy & content & in a good place - a better place to be in than i’d hoped at this point in time, and it’s something i am grateful for.

and i just want, you know, if anyone’s been reading my work and relating to the despair in some of those poems, or the grief, or the sadness, or any of that - it gets better. it’s getting better for me. it might not feel like it, but it will get better for you too. you just have to be more stubborn than the things that are getting you down - easier said than done, but doable. and so, so worth it.

stuff re: old blog down below!

so well, here’s the whole deal w/ redeyecyanide. while i did not grow up on the internet to the same extent some of my peers did, i was definitely extremely online from when i was around 15 onwards. i don’t regret any of it and i think for the most part i had relatively healthy boundaries going - with a few exceptions, which i can confidently say i have learnt from.

keeping that aside, as it usually happens when you are 15, and when you come back 7 years later, is that a lot of your beliefs change. i owned redeyecyanide and was active on there primarly when i was ... 18 / 19 / 20, but i was still in the process of learning & unlearning a lot of things. i often made statements that were... not accurate, with sweeping confidence, because i thought i was right. i sometimes generalised things in problematic ways, or made commentary based on my opinions which did not in any way represent how i felt about other people’s opinions. i was honestly very angry at the injustice present in the world, and learning to live with that anger and channel it into something more sustainable, productive, useful and healthy. that wasn’t the easiest thing and in some instances i feel i could’ve handled a lot of things in better and in more objective/calmer ways.

basically, i deleted that blog because it felt like a very “there’s a lot to unpack but let’s throw away the whole suitcase” kind of moment. my values are still the same, i’m still firmly anti bigotry, but i’m also 100% sex positive / anti swerf, provided there’s informed consent btwn people who can consent & all that good stuff - which is a value i always believed in but, at the time, i hadn’t done enough unlearning to be as sex positive as i wanted. kink-shaming doesn’t make sense to me anymore, esp not under the guise of “social justice”.

since we’re on tumblr, i unfortunately need to add that assuming people are p*dophiles at the drop of a hat, just because someone said so, definitely does not sit right with me. that’s a serious, serious allegation, and it’s important not to throw around allegations like that over... somebody shipping drarry, or whatever the new ship that everyone hates is. let’s not make callout posts for everyone under the sun, moon & solar system, please. save it for when it’s important.

i’m also 100% radically inclusive when it comes to lgbtq+ identities. i support any and all good faith identity & pronouns (and by good faith i mean, identities that are sincere/genuine and not made to poke fun at people or be degrading) and i honestly think most lgbt+ discourse is unnecessary because another person’s gender/sexuality is not your business - which is something i have always believed, but now i know that if i have to choose sides, i choose the people who are quietly existing, rather than the people who believe they shouldn’t exist or should exist elsewhere.

i identify as “queer”, i do not identify as “lgbt” or “lgbtq” or “lgbtqia” or any other acronym. no shade at people who prefer those, just doesn’t work for me anymore.

yeah, that’s about it. thanks for reading all the way, if you did :’) hope everyone’s doing well!

#not a poem #i was a little on the fence about posting this and i still sort of am #but hey.......... it's growth #i think that's important #now im logging out again. see y'all in another couple of months

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floofyboi57 · 3 years

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Ok I’m currently on a MLP Gen 5 hyperfixation rn so all of you have to deal with me talking about pastel horses-

And with this comes something I think would make for interesting commentary in the eventual series- so spoiler territory

Alright, so the concept of influencers definitely has new meaning. With many influencers now having the habit of putting their view count before the sake of others. Their dangerous antics or attitudes being encouraged by viewers who don’t know better and add revenue

And don’t even get me started on cancel culture, and how if influencers or streamers aren’t 100% perfect they could risk their entire career and future careers.

Now I know this is wishful thinking, but I feel like there could be some AMAZING commentary on this and with Pipp’s character. Again this is just wishful thinking, and I doubt the people writing the show will consider this but imagine this-

Pipp does something her viewers don’t like. It can be as simple as not understanding an earth pony or unicorn culture originating word or something she said in an interview/video being taken out of context. Her viewership drops almost immediately. Ponies are making accusations against her and not accepting any apology she tries to make.

She gets so concerned with her viewership and her reputation that she does very dangerous things, and her friends help at first but slowly wonder if this is even worth it, because they’re getting hurt and Pipp is clearly stressed about this whole thing. Pipp doesn’t listen to their advice, claiming that they’re against her too (like everyone else is) and ends up ditching them.

Pipp advertises this BIG stunt, something that can harm both her and a ton of others so her friends rush to stop this. They stop the stunt but Pipp still gets hurt and while the others are consoling Pipp, Sunny or Zipp (or both idk-) ask all of the viewers and people recording if Pipp deserved to be hurt for what she did. They acknowledge that what she did was wrong, and her actions dealing with it were out of proportion, but risking someone’s career and reputation over something like this is insane.

Don’t get me wrong, I do believe there are people out there who don’t deserve a platform. There are people who use it to do bad things and hurt people while getting away with it. There are people who do bad things and won’t change. But cancel culture has devolved into risking people’s careers, not believing that people can change, and risking good hearted creators careers.

I know this talked a lot more about cancel culture than influencers who are genuinely bad people, but know that throughout this make-believe episode Pipp is doing things that involve endangering herself and her friends, without better judgement yes, but she is still in the wrong throughout it. Her actions can be justified by the situation she was in, but that doesn’t mean they can be excused.

Anyway yeah- again this is all wishful thinking. I don’t trust execs who probably don’t know the first thing about influencers and online fame to make good commentary on this subject that’s just become more prominent. I just feel like it would be a good opportunity for her character, even though she was probably just added for the “Gen Z Demographic”.

#my little pony #my little pony: a new generation #mlp pipp #a pointless post talking about how a pastel horse show could tackle cancel culture and influencers #Feel free to add your own input on this subject I’d love to hear it #Note the commentary on cancel culture is not to say people who are dangerous shouldn’t have their platforms taken from them #People who are legitimately dangerous shouldn’t have platforms and a way to harm people or continue to be assholes

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leam1983 · 3 years

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Felix the Reaper - Thoughts? Review?

Can't really go into too much detail, it's rather late as it is and the ol' bed is beckoning, but I also want to couch this down somewhere while it's still fresh...

So, Death as a concept - as a character - obviously permeates the whole of human civilization. You've got Anubis and Osiris, Humbaba the Undying, thousands of years of mythology surrounding the concept of life leaving you and your flesh-bits rotting, generation after generation of people processing grief in visual and abstract forms - and now, we're sort of living in a context where Death isn't really all that scary anymore. We understand it, we can push it back in some cases - and when we can't, then we can sort of map out its occurrence. What started as just this inexplicable force swiping at hunter-gatherers and that warranted Danse Macabre paintings across Medieval France is now something we can put an almost-precise date and time on. There's a bunch of "death clocks" online that project a potential DOD based on your age, gender, health status, habits and BMI; sort of turning the concept of memento mori into a shockingly literate manifestation.

You will die, one day. We're so aware of that that a bit of science and Web design wizardry can shit out a half-serious guesstimation of when it'll happen. Pre-Colonial aspects of Death survive in Mexican culture in the forms of both calaveras and the Santa Muerte cult, and the inevitability of death now even counts as a game mechanic in the SoulsBorne genre. You've got Terry Pratchett's extremely Humanist rendition of Death and, well, Hollywood faff à la Meet Joe Black. The short of it is we're far from the robe-wearing zombie we used to plop everywhere as a reminder of our own supposedly sinful urges or on the fleeting nature of youth.

Another item that's of interest is the notion of life and youth being represented as the Maiden - and of Death being in love with her. Sometimes, the affection isn't returned and disgust is shown. That's most of Holbein's death-related works, in this case. In others, the Maiden leans in, lets the skeletal figure push a hand underneath her skirt and against one of her thighs. They share a kiss, press against one another in the way honest lovers might. He's a dried-out corpse with a bloated midsection and she might've stepped out of some sixteenth-century church in the Netherlands, but their liplock is intense and genuine. In one statue, the Maiden looks like she might've just surrendered to the Reaper's arms, but her hands are also touching his scythe....

Eroticism, a commentary on suicide or plain acceptance - there's several ways to look at that duality, and it's even managed to worm its way over to cultures that don't natively have similar associations with human remains. The Japanese, for instance, do have their own Gashadokuro concept, but the locals of Nagasaki needed their initially-exclusive exposure to Portuguese traders to shrink down their massive skeletal eidolons of doom and to design woodblock prints where a Danse Macabre effectively meets the dress codes and habits of the locals under sakoku, or the Emperor-mandated closing-off of Japan to the outside world.

Death as a dancer. Death, especially, as a force that's quite lively, despite its attributes. A force that falls head-over-heels for Life in its own anthropomorphized form.

This is what Danish devs Kong Orange opted to work on in Felix the Reaper. Their Death has a human name, has a thing for the stuffier ends of Business Casual, is maybe eighty pounds overweight - and won't ever, ever, let the music die. He's also in love, obviously - and in love with Betty, the equally portly and nimble personification of Life. The pair look a bit like a Fernando Botero couple waiting to happen, with ample waists and sagging breasts held aloft by spindle-thin legs - but if Ghostbusters taught us not to cross the streams, then you can assume that Life and Death starting a tango in the same workspace could have severe coincidences on the biosphere. Not that Felix cares, he'd want nothing more than for Betty to notice him. His supervisor is voiced off-camera by Sir Patrick Stewart, who's as delightful as always, and who sort of plays the part of the well-meaning supervisor who eventually realizes his new employee's quirks don't diminish his potential.

And what is Felix's job, exactly? Well, he's Death. He's not getting paid to distribute hugs and kisses, obviously. He gets sent to the mortal plane to, well, kill people, and more specifically, to kill people in precise and pre-ordained ways. His "televator" takes him to an instant frozen in time, and he has to alter the surrounding scene so that once time resumes its course, the requisite accident or happenstance occurs. You do that by picking up items, flicking switches, and placing targets in the path of whatever it is that's set to kill them. You also move the sun around the world using a magical sundial doohickey, as Death can only move in shadows. You're basically Death in the same sense as in the Final Destination movies, except you really, really, really want to twerk and sashay your voluminous heinie through the small changes needed to turn a nothing-burger into a drunk huntsman getting his head stuck in the stump of a decapitated deer, so the dejected and near-sighted hunter you've been following mistakes him for a target and shoots his spear through his brain-case.

And yes, Felix does twerk and he certainly sashays. Dude dresses like a stuffy librarian, sure, but seemingly loses all inhibitions once his headphones come up - which allows the player to share in his personal soundtrack. This particular Reaper seems to have a thing for very bass-driven and samply EDM, with occasional forays into Ambient and Jazz. His many, many, many idle animations all sync with whatever it is that's playing, and so does the variety of prances, somersaults, grands jetés and twirls he goes through while moving from place to place. Comparatively, you get the sense that Felix's coworkers are more the dour and solemn type - with a few unsubtle cameos from Skeletor and Manny Calavera in the opening cinematic - and Felix, well...

Let's just say it's a wonder he has those hips and that paunch. If he twirls around for every little thing he does, then you'd assume he only sits down to hoover an Olympic athlete's worth of food once a day. Or maybe I'm overthinking things because, well, death.

And therein lies the problem, honestly. In thinking, I mean. Felix is a puzzle game through-and-through, and also ties into a Challenge system in order to really tickle those completionist nerves. The starting scenarios are braindead-easy, but the later ones left me stumped for fifteen minutes per screen. Add to that the notion that the game doesn't check off some of them as complete if you only do the bare essentials, and you're left with another would-be mobile offering that doesn't reach its endpoint until you exhaust every little bit it has to offer - even if you're effectively done with the main gameplay loop. It's a great game, but there's just not a whole lot to do in those six chapters, beyond repeating bits of drudgery until your noodle clicks or you give up and look up a solution online.

It's a shame, too. The isometric perspective is perfect, and the game could've been pitched as a hybrid between a puzzler and, say, XCOM: Enemy Unknown. You'd take cover to hide from moving targets or to escape daylight and instead of shooting at them, would emerge from cover to move items around or solve puzzle elements. You could've had Death evoke the illusion of a friendly face to inject some more concrete narrative delivery, for instance. Steal a friend's features, magically conceal yourself, and then have your target piece her own weaknesses together, leaving you to retreat and regroup before executing your plan of attack. But no, everything is out in the open and everything is spelled out for you. Kong Orange could've also stolen a page from Hitman Go and set multiple triggers in place to truly sandbox the experience.

What is there is fun - it oozes personality and charm - but there's just not enough of it to justify Steam's full asking price, IMO. Comparatively, the Switch's online store is currently running a sale for it (as of Sunday the 15th, at least) and lists it as being 2,15$. Two bucks for a few hours of harmless fun is a pretty good deal, as far as I'm concerned. It also underlines why the devs and Daedalic Entertainment alike consider it as having "bombed", as the marketing effectively targeted Devolver's usual stable. It's not crunchy enough, however, and not exactly irreverent enough to warrant that comparison. A more hefty Felix could've earned its full 20$ price point on PC - and Kong Orange's very design for Betty makes it obvious that if Felix ever returns, it'll be in a co-op setup with the love of his, well, unlife.

I'd be up for more of this cuddly, swinging skelly - assuming the devs mature a tad and put something together that's just a smidge more compelling.

#felix the reaper #pc #switch #ps4 #review #puzzle #game #indie #felix #the #reaper #fat #skeleton

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terramythos · 3 years

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I beat Prey yesterday! here are the general thoughts i scribbled down.

i thought the opening was super strong. When you break the glass on the apartment window? *chef's kiss*

i’ve never played system shock 2 but understand this is heavily influenced by it. I've played Bioshock though so I did pick up on some of the similarities by proxy.

generally I liked combat. In the first half it's pretty tense and survival horror-y and there's certainly a difficulty curve. I liked using limited resources and thinking up creative solutions to problems.

However, most stuff became trivial halfway through. The shotgun is just busted after a couple upgrades. Once you know a surefire way to deal with each enemy type, the game gets pretty easy. from what I understand the difficulty settings do not affect this much (I played on normal). You can make the game more tedious, but not necessarily harder.

i wish there were more horror elements in the mid to late game. There are some genuinely great jump scares early on but they're basically gone past a certain point.

main quest in general was a treadmill of “go to point a, do x thing, oh no something stopped you from doing x thing, you need to go to point y and do b thing so you can go back and do x thing”. kind of disappointing; it mostly served as a way to get around and find more interesting stuff (with a few exceptions). i liked the side quests more.

the voice acting was great. In particular, Benedict Wong's performance as Alex stuck out to me.

the visual and world design was fantastic, too. I think its impressive that Talos I had a unifying design but each area still felt distinct.

visually the Looking Glass stuff was super cool. I think that Arkane developed this with the time travel Dishonored 2 mission and it was cool there too.

there's an impressive amount of extra flavor. All of the art, audio logs, emails, books, and even the ability to explore a bit in space. Just cool details that helped make it all feel real and believable. It adds a lot.

i wanted neuromods to be more like the plasmids in bioshock. While they are the same thing story-wise, in game they function as a talent tree. And some just don’t make sense. Like... how would jamming 4 neuromods in my eye make me physically better at lifting stuff? Why is it an incremental skill I have to invest in 3 times? This makes a little more sense with the Typhon powers since those are basically magic, but not the Human ones.

the ending and some of the mid story is clearly rushed, although I'm glad there's more stuff after the credits.

despite the underwhelming endings (pre credits) I do think the developers put an impressive amount of thought into the circumstances various playthroughs would have surrounding them. I looked it up and there's a boggling number of variations on what's basically two endings.

startlingly few bugs! Just some clipping stuff for me, mostly.

there were some cool small details. I like that if you go someplace before the main story officially tells you to, January will act surprised that you knew ahead of time to go there for the next step. This only happened to me once (on accident), but I imagine it's fun for replays.

SPOILER THOUGHTS BELOW THE CUT

LOVE the meta commentary on identity and autonomy in video games. Morgan is a little different between each reset in the early simulation, even though theoretically that shouldn't be possible. Characters constantly compare you to the Morgan they knew, whatever that means to them. Morgan the player character is a silent protagonist. Morgan the narrative character has several audio and video logs from their past and multiple robots with their voice. More broadly, each player will play a video game differently, even if they make similar choices. So is any playable character the same person between playthroughs? Is the player character narratively that person, or are they simply a vehicle that reflects what the player wants? It's no "would you kindly" but it's still interesting.

in theory i like the Nightmare. kind of a pyramid head type thing but more random. however there’s little incentive to defeat it and it’s easy to avoid, so it turned into a “wait for a 3 min timer to count down” simulator. also, if you accidentally spawn it in certain areas it can WRECK your ending (though it’s easy to reload).

so the Big Twist hints were pretty heavy handed. I figured it out early. It occurred to me after the first level that if the tutorial was a simulation, anything could be, and that was basically the big twisterino. Stuff like January saying "well good thing you're not an alien" in a super ironic tone of voice made me laugh out loud. Also, I did the Obvious Bad Ending for shits and giggles and it spoiled the whole thing. Really wish it had just cut to black since you can access it early. This potentially ruins any shock value for a lot of people.

on some level I like that the ending explains away certain "plot holes". Probably the most obvious is Morgan not remembering any of their past, which is... not how the neuromod memory loss works. But of course they wouldn't remember it, because the player is a Typhon going through a simulation, not the real Morgan.

you can also view the ending from the perspective of humans desperately trying to convince an alien they're worth saving, despite some "bad actors" (read: war crimes in space). Hence the sometimes on-the-nose moral choices and optional side quests. Even the fact that Morgan and Alex are characterized as total assholes in the past-- yet Alex in game and post credits is gentle and compassionate. Perhaps Alex in real life is trying to atone for his mistakes?

i kept expecting mirrors to be relevant? The Phantoms whisper about "what you see in the mirror", promo material shows Morgan looking at themself in the mirror, the Looking Glass tech, and the fact that mirrors are all over the place and DO NOT actually reflect Morgan. Which isn't a technical limitation since the Looking Glass is a whole thing. There's the whole mirror neuron thing but that's such a tiny line of dialogue I'm not sure it matters. Have to wonder if this was a story concept that got cut.

in a similar vein to "crap Phantoms say", there's a minor human character who just... says a bunch of Phantom lines in a row once you complete a quest. He’s seemingly unaware that he's echoing them. What was the purpose of this? Was this an abandoned plot thread?

why wasn't Dahl a bigger part of the story? or Alex and Morgan's parents? I assume it's due to a time crunch, but it just feels like a missed opportunity.

small detail: I love that one of the main story quests has you fake someone's voice using audio logs, and someone MUCH later uses the same trick against you.

another small detail which I missed: flying out to the space billboard to get an early horror twist about the fucking escape pods. there are lots of little things like that all over the place.

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commentaryvorg · 4 years

Note

If you could change anything from Kaito's character arc in V3, what would you change?

Honestly? The short answer is nothing.

Kaito's character arc is fantastically crafted. There are so many tiny, seemingly-innocuous lines and moments that actually serve a vital purpose in either showing us what's going on in Kaito's head despite him never talking about it, or in pushing his arc along further, all of which I had so much fun talking about throughout the commentary. Granted, a lot of it is subtle and difficult to spot - but then it should be, considering how much Kaito tries to hide his issues. When you look for it, though, it is very deliberately there and not meaninglessly ambiguous at all. There's not a single part of Kaito's arc where I'm thinking “this was written badly”; even his phobia, as much as I'm sad that it gives Kaito less screentime and less being-himself in chapter 3, serves multiple purposes for the story and for Kaito's arc. Kaito's writers are the best and I adore how much care and attention they put into writing him.

I've seen a fair few people, presumably fans of Kaito, say “Kaito deserved better”, and... they're wrong. Well, unless they mean it in a purely in-universe sense, in which case of course he did, but then so did everyone, that's kind of the point. But if they mean it in an out-universe sense, in that they think Kaito deserved a better story for how good of a character he is? No! Kaito's story is amazing. He is the best-written character in this game and got absolutely everything he deserved, narratively speaking. I genuinely believe this with all of my heart. If other people don't see it, then they aren't looking hard enough - which is understandable, but also a shame when those people are fans of Kaito who presumably want to enjoy his story as much as they can. I just want to take all of these people and show them my commentary so that they can realise just how good Kaito's arc really is and love him even more like he deserves. (And I am endlessly thrilled that the commentary does seem to have had that kind of effect on some people!)

Obviously I would also love to see a story in which Kaito learns that it's okay to show weakness to his sidekicks, completely untangles his horrendous double-standard for heroes and begins to have healthy, mutually-supportive relationships with his friends. But... that was never this story. This is a story in which Kaito's messed-up view of what it means to be a hero literally gets him killed while all but destroying his sense of self-worth in the process, yet he still manages to keep fighting and make at least some kind of difference for his friends anyway, because he still is a hero despite what he might believe about himself. And that's also a fantastic story to tell!

It's kind of like something I've also considered about Ryoma. It would have been quite possible to tell a story in which Ryoma overcomes his issues and finds a reason to live and survives, and I'd have loved a story like that with him, because Ryoma is great and deserves to be happy. But the story of how he didn't manage to overcome his issues and tragically died because of them is also a compelling story that it's possible to tell with Ryoma's character - and, well, someone had to be chapter 2's victim. With characters as ripe with potential as Kaito, or Ryoma, or really any complex and well-written character in anything, there's so many different and equally compelling stories that could be told with them. But you can't tell all of those stories at once, and that's okay.

(That's why it's great that we have fanwork, to explore all of those other possible stories that couldn't be told in canon!)

With all that said, since this is about Kaito, you know I don't want to just leave it at the (very elaborated-upon) short answer. So here's a few things I thought of anyway that I might want to change if I could - all of which are really very minor nitpicks that barely matter in the grand scheme of things.

The absolute first thing I'd do is remove those four-ish lines in which Kaito is vaguely sexist in a way that is provably out-of-character for him. Gone. Expunged. Never there. Suddenly, magically, there is no longer a portion of the fandom that believes that Kaito is supposed to be sexist, and we literally only changed like four lines of his dialogue. Funny, that.

I'd also want to slightly change the parts where Kaito freaks out in a too-extreme way over ghosts once his phobia's been revealed. Not only is it not really quite in character for him to overreact that badly when he'd be doing his best to hide it, it also comes across like Kaito's phobia is being played for comedy. Which it shouldn’t be. He is literally mentally ill; that's not a joke.

These are the only two aspects of the way in which Kaito's written that I find actively bad in any appreciable way. And, yeah, they're really minor things that don't have anything to do with his actual character arc. That's kind of my point here!

...Though, admittedly, the part where Maki punches Kaito after he clings to her during his phobia-overreaction does actually play a small role in his character arc in that it seems to shift him into beginning to freak out more about his physical illness instead. Hm. Not sure what I'd do about that.

In terms of things I might change that are more meaningful and relevant to Kaito's arc, as I've said, there's really nothing that's actively bad at all. Rather, we're just getting into things where I'd maybe want to add a little bit more on top of what's already there.

Kokichi Doing The Thing in trial 4 - aka, repeatedly heaping insincere praise onto Shuichi in what's really a transparent attempt to jab at Kaito's jealousy and inferiority complex - should have continued for longer than it did instead of being weirdly confined to one specific quarter of the trial. There are plenty of moments after that that would have been perfectly good opportunities for it! And yes, this is absolutely part of Kaito's arc, shush. Not that this would have significantly affected how Kaito would respond or make his breakdown any more spectacular than it already was, mind you, because Kokichi's jabs at Kaito were not nearly as important as Kokichi wanted them to be.

Then there's the part in chapter 5 where, after being kidnapped and offscreen for a while, Kaito has evidently become okay with Shuichi being more of a hero than him and can just be openly proud of him again. There's no specific evidence indicating why this happened, even though it's a pretty important shift for Kaito. This was the only part of Kaito's arc that I speculated about in the commentary without having anything concrete to back up what I think went on there. So if possible, I'd like to add some hints at that.

...That's easier said than done, though, since Kaito gets so little screentime at this point in the story for unavoidable plot reasons, is still not willing to directly talk about his issues, and was never even really consciously aware of his toxic double-standard for heroes that was the root of this whole problem that he's finally begun to fix. It's entirely possible that this is something the writers already wanted to hint at more than they did, but they just couldn't find a way to plausibly do so in that situation. This also still wouldn't be me changing anything about Kaito's arc, just making part of it a bit more easy to notice and figure out.

Lastly - though this isn't even strictly part of Kaito's arc - I'd love to have Shuichi acknowledge more than he does that Kaito had been suffering, and for him to reflect on that and wish that Kaito hadn't been so selfless (just like he did at one point with Kaede!). Obviously I wouldn't want to make him more aware of it for most of Kaito being alive, because that'd change too much and because Shuichi's obliviousness is part of the excruciating tragedy of it all. But after hearing at the end that Kaito really was sick and dying all along, and that Kaito was jealous of him, Shuichi should have been able to recognise at least some of Kaito's vulnerability in hindsight. Having some reflection on that at the end of chapter 5 or at some point during chapter 6 would be lovely to underline and draw attention to what Kaito's story was really about from Kaito's perspective. It might even prompt more of the fandom to actually realise this and notice what an amazing arc Kaito had, which sure would be nice.

...In fact, there's a very small window of time in which Shuichi could have plausibly acknowledged this kind of thing a little more than he did while Kaito was still alive to hear it and potentially benefit from it. So, actually, now that I think of it: the one change I'd make that'd have any real impact on Kaito's arc at all? It'd be this.

#danganronpa v3 #danganronpa v3 spoilers #reply #kaito momota #thanks for the ask!#you know i love a nice excuse to gush about why kaito is the best character #Anonymous

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trashballerina · 4 years

Text

Hetalia Fics I Really Like

this ⭐ will be for fics I really like. I’ll try not to star everything.

I’m starting with my favorite of all time and tbh I think the fandom should see this fic as a OG, like Auf Weiderstein Sweetheart or Gutters, I really do.

Are We Even Humans ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ (Literally all the stars)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/4103344

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5660761/chapters/25048773 (prequel)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7036330/chapters/16007758 (sequel)

The war is over, but putting together everything that fell apart will be a greater challenge than anyone is prepared to handle. Alliances dissolve, and the lines between friends and enemies are blurrier than ever before.

Opinion: Please read it. It is a series with a sequel and a prequel that can be read on its own but it’s so good. Imma go on a quick rant here. This fic is great from the writing, plot, characters, and the nuances of nationhood abilities. I literally rioted during the first chapter because it was so good. One of my absolutely favorite things in the fic and the series as a whole is Prussia. Kingdom of Prussia, German Democratic Republic, Gilbert Beilschmidt. His character progression and seeing him through the series as a whole is astounding. I was literally left shaken at the end of this series and I’ve read it twice. The OC’s are usually the antagonists, but hot damn, they are memorable OC’s who are great (terrible?) villains. And the family dynamics! The family dynamics are enough of a reason to read it by itself and the romances. Omg I love this fic so much. Main takeaways: astounding characterization, amazing plot, will cry, long read, and a reality check on what it means to be a nation.

Would it be too much if I did a separate post on how much I love this series and an in depth analysis? (I feel like such a nerd omg)

Hard Times Passing

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23516458/chapters/56397817

Alfred is homeless during the Great Depression and in his wanderings he's charged with the task of caring for a small orphaned Taiwan. AU-Human names used, Taiwan is a child.

Opinion: So incredibly heart warming. It’s well written and I love the dialogue so much. Also, the little cameos from other characters are an absolute delight. It’s a it short, but so wholesome.

Flowers Don’t Grow on Battlefields ⭐

https://archiveofourown.org/works/14153106/chapters/32619954

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16898919/chapters/39697068 (sequel)

As war tightens its hold on the nations of the world, new alliances are formed. Nobody will escape the war unscathed. Italy only hopes that this time, he will find a way to save those he holds dearest.

Opinion: I realllly like this fic. Maybe I’m a bit bias because I remember reading it from like to third chapter and watching it get updated till the end, but this is really good. Cute gerita, great characterization, good plot, and some lines just really make me melt. And the fluff omg. There’s a sequel that’s linked under too that I may like more than the first.

Who Knew (One Shot)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23516695#main

“The last time the two of them had any sort of contact was when Gilbert sent the letter to Matthew before the first war started.

That was twenty-six years ago. Twenty-six years Matthew had not seen Gilbert. Twenty-six years of Matthew worrying about if his fiancé was alive or not. Twenty-six years of Matthew thinking about all the horrible things that could be happening to Gilbert. Twenty-six years of Matthew wishing he could just see Gilbert, even if it were just for a second. Twenty-six years of pure hell for Matthew. Twenty-six years of being all alone.”

Matthew Williams, the personification of Canada, never thought that he would fall in love, but he did. He fell in love with Gilbert Beilschmidt, the personification of Prussia, but their romance would have to be cut short with the up coming war that was soon approaching them.

Opinion: My god my heart. Matthew had great characterization. Like amazingly so. 10/10 somber and melodic tones throughout the story. Good tension. And again, my heart.

TELL ME A PIECE OF YOUR HISTORY ⭐

https://archiveofourown.org/works/3741175/chapters/8294941#workskin

An account of the media reactions to the reveal of Nations (anthropomorphic national embodiments) with scholarly commentary.

Heavily inspired by: United States v. Barnes, 617 F. Supp. 2d 143 (D.D.C. 2015) [fallingvoices, radialarch] with mixed genres.

Opinion: It’s really cool. It’s told through media, like email, twitter, texts, online magazines, subtitles of videos (not actual videos tho). I love the outside view point of the world on nations and how some people really like them and how others absolutely despise their very existence. One of the main things that sticks out the me is the in depth analysis other humans or posters do on the nations and people even interview the nations, chapter eight is like my favorite for that reason, or how some humans just gush about the nations on so media like how half the fandom does lol. It’s really good. Super creative, great insight on how to world sees the nations, and honestly a great read.

Red Winter (One shot and crossover!)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/909492

The Winter Soldier's new target: a Russian politician named Ivan Braginsky.

Things don't go as planned.

Opinion: Literally so cool. Like nations are total BS to outsiders, especially assassins. I was loosing it during this fic because from Bucky’s POV nations are something else. The writing is really solid and the author uses italics to highlight an action sound or word and even single-word thoughts. The fight scene is really entertaining but also it flows fantastically.

In Costa Rica (Oneshot)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18614041

“You have this backwards,” McLaughlin said. “Everything. You have it all backwards.” He was a lithe man, looked to be in his mid-thirties. Schnabel leaned back in his chair. Outside, the afternoon rain started, and the frogs momentarily fell silent. “They are dangerous, aren’t they?” Two men discuss the nations and history.

Opinion: No actual nations appear in this fic. It’s just two men talking about the nations and it’s really interesting to see them humor and take seriously the idea of nations. They both discuss what they already know about the nations and theorize. Also hearing an outside perspective and how the nations effect the word around them is golden. I give this fic a big ol’ chef’s kiss.

Finally, I’ll Just Miss You! (Oneshot)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15553608

Countries will be abolished tomorrow. For the first time, they breathe and realize this might be their last breath and they’ll never wake up again. They want to wake up, they want to go to sleep, the land will still be there when they’re gone. But they breathe, it won’t be the same- for once, they feel human.

Opinion: Bro, I swear I’m not crying. This one is short but really bittersweet and my heart really hurts. I like the snippets of insight on the characters.

Diamond in the Rough ⭐ ⭐ ⭐

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12872642/1/

The year is 1952, the last full year of Joseph Stalin's rule over the Soviet Union. After an incident with Latvia, Estonia is determined to find out what Russia did to him. And so unfolds a chain of events that would lead the Baltic States to tears, to forgiveness, to unexpected courage and horrifying discoveries about the mysterious past of Gilbert Beilschmidt. See AN for rating.

Opinion: This just be a legitimate book. I have honestly read this one like three time and every time I read it I am absolutely elated to discover another detail or action I missed. It is a longer read but I think it is absolutely worth it. For one, the characterization is beautiful. Maybe I might be bias because I stan and love the Baltics, but how they are written compared to the many other fics I’ve read on them is phenomenal. While the author does take some creative liberties and deviates from canon a little, like the Baltics actually considering themselves to be brothers, I really enjoy the changes. ALSO, the history and research and on this fic is genuinely impressive. To think fic authors do this shit for fun and pour so much of their passion into a piece of writing. Secondly, while Russia may be an antagonist in this story, I honestly think it is just. His mentality, backstory, and current predicament explain his behavior and make him a justifiable antagonist. I highly recommend this one.

Adieux (Oneshot)

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6700886/1/

What happens to nations after they cease to exist? Do they simply disappear or do they get a second chance? It wasn't a subject Francis was particularly keen on finding out about...but at the same time, it wasn't something he could just ignore. One-shot

Opinion: I hate this fic because I love it way too much. I might of cried a little bit and I instantly melt of Francis and Matthew.

In Our Solemn Hour (incomplete) ⭐

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/8975529/30/In-Our-Solemn-Hour

The time was World War II, at the dawn of a global conflict like nothing any of the Nations had ever seen before. Nothing could've prepared them for what lay ahead: a war more total and radical than anything they could ever have imagined. This wasn't just business as usual; it was centuries' worth of pent-up emotions all coming into play at once. This was indeed their darkest hour.

Opinion: Characterization is on point. One part of this fic I remember very well during a fight to the death, Finland mutters a little “Oh dear”. The characters retain some of the qualities that make them silly in Hetalia but because this is another take on it it does get darker. I think Germany’s portrayal is my favorite because he does cruel and unnesscary things and questions it because its not his usal nature. The author notes are super insightful and sometimes funny; it really adds to the rest of the story. I might revisit this post to make a more in depth opinion on it because I don’t remember it all to well when I know I really like this one.

So that was my post lol. I’ll probably make more on other fandoms later tbh or I’ll just make a part two. If you end up reading about any of these posts, please feel free to tell me about them! I love talking about fics and reading in general. Thanks for reading!

#hetalia #helltalia #fic reccomendations #fanfiction #hetalia fanfiction #recs #help i really love fanfiction

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kolbisneat · 4 years

Text

MONTHLY MEDIA: January 2020

Hey here’s how I spent the start of this fine new year!

……….FILM……….

Parasite (2019) I was so focused on the plot that I don’t think I fully appreciated the beauty in this film. Watching this video helped a lot. One thing I admit (light spoilers to follow...skip past if you don’t want anything spoiled) is that I assumed there would be some sort of genre/fantastical element to the whole film. Because I’ve only seen The Host and Snowpiercer (loved both), I think I expected there to be a genre component to the whole thing. When they go down into the basement I really thought it was heading in that direction, and I definitely felt a little let down because of it. BUT after seeing the whole film, I feel like the themes and narrative were stronger because of how real it all felt. (END OF SPOILERS) I think it’s a film I’d like to rewatch to better appreciate the layers, but ho boy is it an emotional gutpunch.

Jojo Rabbit (2019) Just the best. The structure and (some) of the characters felt familiar, but it’s that comfort that makes the changes or introduction of an imaginary Hitler all the more interesting. Beautifully directed and the shifts in tone are so seamless that I really have a hard time pointing out where they happen.

Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle (2017) A little late to this but it was as good as I’d heard. It had the pacing, spirit, and lightness of late 90s/early 2000 adventure movies and I hope more films like this are getting the go ahead. Now to wait 3 years before seeing the sequel.

Between Two Ferns: The Movie (2019) A fun road trip movie that dips into scathing commentary on hollywood and talk shows? Absolutely. It worked well in building off of the webseries and the bloopers during the end credits really made it for me. Also I should’ve been playing Comedy Bang Bang Bingo while watching the movie. Anyway it does a great job of balancing the mean with genuine character moments and glimpses of sincerity.

……….TELEVISION……….

The Bachelor (Episode 24.01 to 24.03) It started out so promising (with the Hannah Brown return) that I was really primed for a format-shaking season. Nothing can quite live up to that beginning and it’s doing the show a disservice. Maybe if they just focused on nice reasonable dates and women getting along it would feel more substantial than the contrived fighting and lies we’re getting. I still believe that the most engaging season will actually be the one with the least drama. Perhaps I’m in the majority for thinking this.

The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (Episode 3.01 to 3.03) Reeeeeeally digging this season. Maybe it’s that there isn’t much relationship drama, or because the relationships play a part in the larger plot (as opposed to Riverdale...but that’s another can of worms). The Cthulhu and carnival stuff are offering a nice mix and we’re really getting lots of monster-of-the-week stuff so far. Hopefully there’s more to come!

Swamp Thing (Episode 1.03 to 1.07) It started out strong and moved at a nice pace, but it lost me. Some episodes had a monster-of-the-week, and those were fun but there was a lot more focus on the locals around the town instead of Swamp Thing. I appreciate a Swamp Thing-centric show would cost a looooooot more, but I also think that’s what most of the fans would want, right? Maybe if it was a 4-ep series it could really go all out and make a splash.

……….READING……….

Dracula vs. Hitler by Patrick Sheane Duncan (Complete) The title and back cover allude to a different, pulpier story, and it takes a while to adjust to the less bombastic narrative. The alternate history you DO get is great, and I think it’s because I didn’t mind a story with a hint of vampire set during the second world war. I’d still love to read a pulpy vamps vs. nazis novel, so if you have one then let me know. This wasn’t perfect, but I enjoyed it.

Head Lopper Volume 3: Head Lopper & the Knights of Venora by Andrew Maclean and Jordie Bellaire (Complete) There’s been a shift and a progression across the first three volumes of Head Lopper. It’s gotten more bold with its storytelling, a little more loose with its artwork (sometimes a hit and miss...I frequently go back because I feel like I’ve missed something in a previous panel) and the sheer scale of the world is expanding so quickly. It’s quickly becoming my favourite modern comic that captures the spirit of what I imagine pulp stories to be. Worth checking out vol. 1 if you haven’t already.

The Magicians: Alice’s Story by Lev Grossman, Lilah Sturges, and Pius Bak (Complete) If you haven’t read any of the Magician’s trilogy by Grossman, this is a great point of entry to see if you’d like the tone, characters, and general premise. If you HAVE read the first novel, this doesn’t branch too far the main narrative. I would’ve liked to spend a little more time with Alice on her own outside of what we see from the novel (and Quentin’s point of view) because what we do get is fantastic. I’m not sure it adds a lot of new elements to the novels but take that for what it is.

The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time - Legendary Edition by Akira Himekawa (Complete) As far as a comic adaptation of a game, it really retains a lot of the core components. There are fun asides and elements get expanded further and it reads really well. Adaptations across media can be tricky but I think this is worth checking out if you liked the game. With that said, there’s a bonus story at the end that is so unrelated to the game and core world that it felt like a miss. It just felt like the author had a completely different story to tell and tried to shoehorn it into this property and it didn’t work. So if you pick it up, know that the best ending is the one you got in the game.

……….AUDIO……….

Yo, Is This Racist (Podcast) I’ve only recently started listening to this, but I really dig the format and the hosts are fun. Part reflection on current events, part interview, part commentary on society...it’s just all very good and funny and also good again.

……….GAMING……….

Baby Is You (Arvi Teikari) Never have I felt more frustrated, rewarded, and impressed by a game. I originally thought it was a sort of “there are endless ways to solve each stage!” game but it turns out the later levels have very specific solutions and that changed my perspective. It’s challenging but fun and uses lots of logic and creative thinking and I just don’t know how to describe how great this game is. Playing it on Switch is nice for the ease of playing a level or two before quitting, but I’m sure it’s fun elsewhere as well.

Neverland: A Role-Playing Game (Andrews McMeel Publishing) So I wrote a setting based on J. M. Barrie’s works and it’s getting published! The weekly group is taking a break from the megadungeon to try this out and it’s been a lot of fun! I will post more in depth recaps of the party’s adventures but so far, they’ve found a small village and nearly died to crocodiles.

A Red & Pleasant Land (Lamentations of the Flame Princess) It’s been aaaaaaaages since this group has had a chance to get together but it’s always so fantastic when we can make it work. The game is really getting to the point where the party has done enough that their actions are having consequences and the group...is adjusting to this. Right now they need to investigate a murder that they themselves are responsible for and I’m VERY keen to see how they approach it.

And that’s it! As always, let me know if you have any recommendations for what to read or watch or hear or play and happy Friday.

#Monthly Media #Rambles #Kolbisneat #Andrew Kolb

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whats-the-story-tc · 4 years

Text

13th of March, 2020

"The One with V's Sister"

[REALLY LONG ONE. I got her back for a day, you best believe I'm savouring every single goddamn second.]

Shenanigans below the cut:

Another day, another ponytail. :-)

I dreamt with her again the night before. We were at this school event and I introduced her to my Dad. As they shook hands, Dad was wondering where he'd heard her name, then asked me if she was the one I always kept talking about. V just chuckled and said that I am her best student, but I never tell her stuff like that. Dream-me was probably blushing profusely.

Right. So. Morning. Bandana Friend and I were at the secretary's office to ask for something and lo and behold, there's V in her usual seat turned towards the door, hands glued to her phone, hair pulled back. I got really excited. I had two whole classes to drink in the sight, and I simply couldn't wait. "Whoop, there she is!" Bandana Friend told me. "Yeah, I saw her. And her hair is up!" We got excited, then remembered we said it loud enough that she could've heard. A laugh was had.

After that encounter, I was informed that we were to write a pretty important test in V's class that I didn't even know about. I tied my hair back as well, and spent the whole of my History class rather anxiously cramming anything and everything Grammar-related. Class ended, and my classmates were pleading with me to try and convince V to postpone the test a little, because she likes me. (It's not worth much, though. They say that about every teacher.) I told them that even though she does, she wouldn't listen to me, either. "There's no getting a plan out of that woman's head," I said.

Turns out, I was once again boo boo the fool. V decided to axe the test and have us write it a week later. I could've kissed her. I actually went: "MISS!" out loud from the surprise, hands thrown up in the air. And not only did she axe the test, she told us exactly what to expect and what we need to know, when we eventually DO write it. And, even though we'd previously discussed everything she mentioned, she took the time to go through everything once again, explain every important thing one by one. And she spoke English again! Okay, it was one word, when she brought up euphony, and said how everyone says German is a violent, angry language because of its phonetics, and brought up the classic "butterfly/Schmetterling" example I'm sure most of you are familiar with.

As she was talking about stylistic value, and how it can differ depending on the context, she brought up the very word she called me the last time we shared a walk, the one I translated as 'babydoll'. I immediately started smiling. Pleasant memories. And, as she went on, now talking paradoxes, she brought up the epigram I associate with her. Odi et amo. I looked away from her with a bittersweet smile. I couldn't believe this was actually happening. But the rest of the time, I couldn't keep my eyes away when I wasn't writing. There was always something to look at. Her hair, her eyes, her smile, her coffee mug necklace, her outfit and body (*cough* low-cut T-shirt *cough*) and basically everything. Cynical Twat (who no longer sits behind me) had his eyes on me for a while, while I was looking at her like she hung the stars. I think he's onto my ass. Fuck.

We also spoke about the other class in our year, as they came up. I asked V if they were ahead of us, as she said she keeps mixing up what she discussed with us and them, and she told me we were basically even at the moment. Then came the obvious question from Blond Boy in the Back: who does she like more? V was very reluctant to answer that, not wanting to generate tension between us, and only wound up saying that we were a lot more disciplined while the other bunch act more freely, and that she likes them and they'll mature someday. She also mentioned she has class with them in really unfortunate time slots and that not even the best class would want anything to do with her or her subject in 7th/8th period. I was about to protest, but I remembered it would be best not to. It's not like she'd respond, anyway.

Towards the end of class, we practised recognising different types of symbolism in poetry. There was this one about tree branches throwing black bouquets on the ground. I wondered what it meant — exactly until the very moment V asked us what it meant. That's when I realised it referred to shadows, and said it immediately. V didn't look at me, just pointed at me as she repeated my answer. She didn't have to reach far — she was standing right next to me. It was quite the common occurence in that very class, as she kind of alternated between standing at the board and by my side. Brb, gotta go get my tinfoil hat.

I also remember the two of us (ft. Comparison Boy I think, but mostly just V and me) having a short debate about whether or not this one famous poem was picture poetry or not. We were so persistent that V ended up telling us something along the lines of "Okay, it can be viewed as such, but technically, it isn't." Ha! Success :)

At the end of class, just to get a proper conversation out of her, I trotted up to her to ask if the definitions of metonymy and synecdoche I jotted down for myself after a bit of extra research were passable. She said that she'd word them a little differently, but technically, they were passable. Cool. End of story.

...at least I thought so. But more on that later.

She gave us back our earlier tests, one Grammar I fucked up here (I only got a B for it, my perfectionist ass can't take it), and the Literature one from here. A+. Huh. And, for once in her life, V actually signed a test! (I'm not exaggerating when I say I've never seen her signature in the past, nearly 2 years.) But what was best, is that when we looked at Debate Friend's test, couldn't finish her essay and barely wrote anything, under it stood, in red V-cursive: "I know you ran out of time." You guys, she gave her maximum points for it! We were full-on gushing when we saw it. Angels walk among us, I tell you.

Later, I had a splitting headache in (foreign) English, and told Curly Friend that I probably would suffer through my upcoming last class of the day if it wasn't going to be with V. I think I told her I always go to V's classes to catch a break. Not because they're easy, but because I can relax and listen to things I love hearing about, from a woman I love listening to. He told me that V was feeling pretty poorly, too (he had double class with her after she was with us), which surprised me. Aside from one story she told us about her dad (she mentioned both her parents today which she doesn't usually do), she was rather very smiley and energised from the very start of class with us. The only time I saw her be more serious was when I spoke to her after class. There was something about her eyes I noticed, but didn't think much into it. The usual sharp-cold fox eyes (I thought it through, they're more fox-like than cat-like), piercing right through the soul upon first glance. Now I realise how tired she must have been.

7th period Literature, aka where things genuinely started getting crazy. Whew. Here we go. Just before we actually got started, my homeroom teacher showed up and called V outside for a minute. You'll later see why. Then, class proceeded as usual. V set up everything, then put on a video about romanticism era here, at home. But, as per usual, V couldn't stop herself from making notes on the board and pausing the video to add her own commentary. Most of the time, she was crouching beside her laptop, with a complete disregard to me looking at her instead of the video whenever she did that. Once the video was over, she explained some things, her back against the board. She realised she got a whole person's name wrong, and, upon noticing she smudged the writing a little, she remarked "I hope I wiped the board with my hair again," and reached for her ponytail. I was laughing to myself. What do you mean again, love? My dearest, the train wreck.

Second video, about this play based on a queen's assassination in the medieval times. V said it was a tragedy, and asked us what a tragedy was. As I was trying to lace my thoughts together, I did notice that quick look she stole at me that basically said "Come on, Specs, you're the drama expert, say something or this is gonna get really awkward." Me and this other boy did manage to answer, though. After that, it was video time. V took a seat on an empty desk at the other side of the classroom, so she wouldn't block the view. Coincidentally, I had perfect view of both the screen and her. And that's where everything started getting mad.

She noticed. As I was watching her reactions, she turned to me and looked me in the eye before turning back to the video. And after that, though I didn't dare to look at her as much, most, if not all my gazes were returned. When the title character eventually stabbed the queen, she let out this extremely ridiculous scream straight out of a cartoon (well, they WERE cartoon silhouettes after all). I look at V, she looks back at me with this smile of "yeah, I know". Thing is, even in the next 'scene' with a trial, taking place presumably days later, the queen's body was still on the ground. I couldn't help myself, and asked "And they just left the queen there?" V burst into a grin as she looked at me to say "No!". This time last year, I used to get very Done™ looks for this kind of joke, and no verbal response at all. We're getting somewhere, ladies and gentlemen and enby people.

After the video ended, I actually raised my hand this once, to point something out. V was about to start speaking, but said "Yeah?" when she saw my hand up, dropping that train of thought immediately. I talked about how ironic it was that only the queen and her brother's silhouettes were black, and the rest of them were white. As I thought, it symbolised who were meant to be the good guys and the bad guys. I also brought up chess, which V agreed to, and I could see she was glad that there's someone who actively pays attention to detail.

I said it was mad before? Whoo, boy, then it's about to get insane.

Class ends, and V is packing. I was standing there anyway, so I thought I'd help a teensy bit, putting the projector cable away for her so she only had to deal with her laptop. I got a "Many thanks" for it when she noticed. And then. Oh, then. I'm standing beside her desk, not saying a goddamn word, and she, completely unprompted, starts talking to me about the play in depth. She didn't even call my name to get my attention, because she knew I'd be listening. (Been there, done that.) She told me that she finds the plot interesting, and as an adult, she can appreciate it, but the whole thing is written in such a dry and complicated way (she frowned saying this), that she can't help but have mixed opinions about it.

These are all things she mentioned in class before and needn't have repeated, but I was kinda glad she did. I let her talk, adding my own opinion whenever I felt like it, drinking in the fact that she wanted to talk to me specifically about it. I told her that as an actress, I find the characters interesting and I'd love to do this play because the plot really does sound interesting. The look she gave me... she looked me in the eyes, not a word said. It wasn't the fox eyes, it felt more like she was focused on me. There was a depth to it, a silent intensity. I have no idea what she could've been thinking, but I think she might have tried to imagine it. "We'll continue this on Tuesday." she told me, as the bell was about to ring. Lmao, as if.

But it didn't end there, oh, no. Sorry, you have to read a little longer. When she left the classroom, I realised: "Hold on there, V, I'm not done with you yet" and immediately went after her. She walked over to Art Friend, who was writing a test outside, at a nearby table, to check up on how she's doing. Me being me, as they finished talking, and more of my friends started to gather around, I decided to check up on how V's doing. And — you guys aren't going to believe this —, for once, she didn't ignore me asking her how she was! She said that even though she wasn't a hundred percent well, she was doing fine. She didn't plan on not being at school on Tuesday, but life got in the way. (She even explained how, we goin' personal in here.) She didn't say anything when I told her to take care of herself, but I didn't really expect her to.

(From here, our topics might not be in chronological order, because I literally don't remember how it happened.)

There we were, on opposite sides of that table, facing each other directly. "Is the weather changing again, Miss? Is that why my head is splitting apart?" I asked her, thinking adults always know about the weather anyway. "Maybe. Or you're just sick and we're all going to die." she told me as she was putting stuff into her laptop bag. "Oh, great. Bright future you're predicting for me, Miss, thank you." I responded, somewhere along the lines of this. I don't remember the exact thing. "We're all going to die one day, aren't we?" "Well, yeah..." "Just think about all the times we could've died as children..." Bright and optimistic topic in the middle of a goddamn pandemic, courtesy of our very own Miss V. But me and Debate Friend chimed right in with our stories anyway. If there are two people who are ride-or-die with V's weird shit, it's us.

I remembered what happened the previous day, Comparison Boy calling me by her name. "[Art Friend], should I tell her about [Comparison Boy and co.]?" I asked my friend out loud, because I know V absolutely hates not knowing stuff. "Oh, Lord, what happened?" V asked immediately, both elbows on the table, watching curiously. See? This is why I adore teasing her. It's the reaction. "Long story short, they don't call me by my name anymore." I said, not daring to look up at her, no matter how coy I was being. Inside, I was still afraid of what she'd say to being compared to me. "Whose, then?" No going back. "Well, yours, Miss." I admitted. Immediately, I heard a "No." of disbelief, and there we were, both of us grinning at the accusations and me talking about how different we are on the inside. "[Curly Friend] found me with his theory, too." V told me, and now I was the one not believing her. I couldn't believe he told her! "What theory?" Art Friend asked. V seemed to have a hard time putting it into words so I helped out. "That she is me 10 years into the future." Yup. That's an actual theory he has. V looked a little... not withdrawn, even though she was leaning away from the table, but... awkward? But to be honest, we both were. "[Curly Friend] is nice, I like him, but if only he had this much creativity for studying..." V said, to close the topic off. Bwahaha.

At some point, my homeroom teacher came over to us when she saw us chatting, giving V's shoulder a little stroke as she walked past behind her to get next to her. I saw V crack a smile, this little, but very pleased one. Theirs is an unlikely friendship, but I stan it so much. She asked V about how Blond Boy in the Back was doing, as he was quite pale, and V said she noticed (she even asked him if he was alright) but nothing really extreme happened. After all the times he'd disrespected her, it's amazing how much V still cares about him. Then, my homeroom teacher mentioned a potential new teacher who might be coming soon (not anymore I guess lmao) and I burst into a fed-up "Again?". We all know what happened last time, after all. V grinned and muttered a half-impressed, half-unbelieving "She says 'Again?'..." to herself.

Art Friend brought up a British actor, but didn't know his name. (I couldn't guess she was talking about James McAvoy until she said His Dark Materials.) She said she was handsome, and V immediately said "I think I know who you're thinking about, and he's not that handsome." I was fully hollering. It was a shorter-lived convo bit, but V mentioned that she cries at every little thing. Now, that's an exaggeration right there, Miss. Also, I'm not entirely sure it was at this point, but sometime during the conversation, I nearly reached out and took her hand as a comforting gesture after something that was said, but stopped myself as soon as my hand moved. I couldn't do that. I had to know my place.

You know what I'm going to miss most about seeing V face-to-face? Her incredibly telling eyes, that speak for her every given minute. This whole conversation through, she was looking at us with this soft, crinkled-up-to-the-point-they're-half-closed eyes, the look a mixture of bliss and calmness... maybe even pride at a push. She looked like there genuinely wasn't anything she'd rather do in that very moment, but talk to us. She is an angel, let me tell you. I don't deserve her.

When she eventually got going, Debate Friend ran ahead (I gave her a Done™ look for a joke and she just bolted off), while V and I walked together. "Are [Curly Friend] and [Debate Friend] related by any chance?" she asked me. "Same hair, same smile, similar personality..." "Well, if we can be compared, so can they." I smiled back. Then something happened I didn't and couldn't account for. Debate Friend shot back, though I don't exactly remember how she worded it, that V and I could be related as well. And I mentally took a deep breath, fully aware of the risk I was taking, and exclaimed, grinning:

"I have an older sister! I've always wanted a sister!"

I can't possibly begin to comprehend that smile. She didn't say anything, but she closed her eyes and her lips pulled up into this really bright smile, something like this emoji: 😊, discount the blush. It went through my mind later that she did it because she was annoyed with me or thought me stupid and she was trying to mask it, then I remembered... it's V. She wouldn't do that, couldn't pretend if she tried. So that leaves us with one explanation: she was glad I said that. She actually liked me saying that and didn't mind being called my sister. I still don't believe it. It was the same smile as the one she said that "Oh, come on!" with on Wednesday, so she might even have been... flattered? Impossible.

Once she called out Debate Friend for addressing a teacher by her last name only, no honorific, she walked away and out of sight, smiling and waving goodbye to us. And that was the last time I saw her in the flesh — possibly for a very long time.

Later that day, I mentioned her and how much she helped me to my psychologist, who used to work in my school a while back. Last time I was there and I spoke about her, she didn't remember V, but now she was fully aware who I was talking about, if a bit surprised. "I never would've thought she is so... sentimental," she said. Me neither, doc. Honestly, me neither. But here we are. She was glad I found someone who helps me this much and I wholeheartedly agreed. How could I not?

It's been a little over a week since all this happened. Online school is kicking my ass, but I'll be fine. I have her. Still... I miss school a lot. I miss hugging my friends and doodling in classes and the thrill of scanning the corridors for a glimpse of a certain Miss V walking past. Here's to hoping it gets better soon. Until then, all of you take care, stay safe and stay home.

~ S ♡

[Every story I share here, no matter how specific I get with my wording, depicts actual events from my own life.]

#tc #tcc #teacher crush community #female tc #female teacher crush

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wonderfulworldofmichaelford · 5 years

Text

Michael in the Mainstream: The Nostalgia Critic

I have been a fan of the Nostalgia Critic for years now. That’s a rather controversial stance to take nowdays, especially in light of recent controversies; first was the big #ChangeTheChannel movement which had the entire site sans Brad Jones performing a mass exodus elsewhere with some even going so far as to brutally cut ties with Doug for his and managements failings (with Alison Pregler, AKA Obscurus Lupa offering some especially harsh words). Then was this year’s review of The Wall, where he utilized his divisive clipless style and his complete lack of a good singing voice to create what is hands down one of the worst videos – not even just review, VIDEOS – on YouTube. But even with those two things aside, I do think there is some value to the work of Doug Walker. He became popular for a reason, right? So what is that reason? Where did he go wrong?

Doug Walker began doing his Nostalgia Critic schtick in the wake of James Rolfe’s Angry Video Game Nerd becoming an internet icon, and he quickly became one of the bigger faces in the wake of imitators Rolfe spawned. The conceit of his show is rather simple – he reviews nostalgic movies, mostly stuff from the 80s or 90s, with occasional forays into the 2000s – all while parodying the typical internet film critic much as Rolfe parodied the typical nerd gamer. The Critic, you see, is not necessarily Doug, but instead a hyperactive psychotic manchild version of himself who screeches, shoots, and curses up a storm while reviewing movies. It wasn’t too different from other review shows at the time, really, but Doug had a sort of corny charm that really worked.

As time went on, production values slowly increased, Doug’s humor sharpened, and eventually actual thoughtful film analysis crept in, especially in the post-reboot episodes. In fact, that is something I generally like about Doug’s work, and why I even bother with him still: the man clearly has an understanding of film theory, he knows what he’s talking about, and when he takes the time to sit down and actually talk about movies he’s actually pretty insightful. I think of his reviews of stuff like Ghostbusters 2,where he actually gave a genuinely great alternate plotline for the film that would have better utilized the concepts and characters, or any of his numerous video essays on film issues like whitewashing. When it’s Doug just sitting down and talking about a film while cracking jokes here and there, it tends to be really good.

However, Doug has increasingly wanted to add some spice to his reviews in the forms of skits. And it’s not like there never were bits in his reviews back in the day, but post-revival He ramped up the amount of skits, utilizing a cast of friends, with the current mainstays being Malcolm Ray and Tamara Chambers. I do sort of like the weird cast of characters the show has amassed, and I think they really help give the show an identity to set it apart from other review shows. Malcolm and Tamara are honestly, genuinely funny and enjoyable, though the writing doesn’t always play to their skills and can sometimes be a bit obnoxious. I think I’d have to say Malcolm is probably my favorite of the bunch, as he has the wackiest roster of amusing characters, with roles such as Satan, Black Willy Wonka, and good ol’ Bill. And some of his best reviews have crazy skits. His Moulin Rouge review is a standout example; even if I don’t agree with his opinions, he manages to make the musical interludes fun, funny, and actually filled with some sort of commentary relating to the film.

I think the real issues with the skits is they sometimes bog down the reviews or go on for a bit too long. Some of them also just plain aren’t funny at all, or they use really bottom of the barrel cringeworthy comedy that the Critic himself has criticized in his reviews. Of course, the pinnacle of these problems are his clipless reviews, which are basically just Doug and pals reenacting whatever movie he’s reviewing. On paper, this seems like a fun and amusing idea, but the execution is often extremely poor. See, the thing about the Nostalgia Critic is that you’re ostensibly going to him to see criticism and see if something is worth watching; the thing with his clipless reviews is that they require intimate familiarity with the source material for you to even get half of the jokes he’s making, which kind of defeats the point. This is one of the reasons his review of The Wall is so terrible; he’s taking a film that is incomprehensible and surreal and parodying it without explaining the context, so anyone unfamiliar with the movie will be lost.

And even if you are familiar, a lot of the parody can come off as mean-spirited or even filled with blatant lies. Doug has a tendency to overexaggerate and be hyperbolic when he’s in-character, so if he finds a serious flaw in the movie he’ll blow it up in his parody. His reviews of the It films really showcase this, as he sort of nitpicks things that really aren’t as big a deal as he makes them out to be, which has the unfortunate side effect of making his legitimate criticisms look a bit weaker. In fact, a lot of the time Doug comes off as genuinely hypocritical, mocking tropes and tools he himself frequently utilizes in his own reviews. It’s so weird, because despite all this as well as the cheap special effects and production values that Doug is clearly putting a lot of effort into acting out all these wacky parodies, but he just can’t act and criticize at the same time. At the very least, his clipless reviews lend themselves well to unintentionally hilarious, so bad it’s good territory.

I think a lot of why the clipless reviews and skits don’t work is because of Doug’s lingering resentment over the failure of Demo Reel, which was him trying to branch out after he retired the Critic. Of course had to fall back on the Critic; Demo Reel was not very popular, and people just wanted more of what Made Doug famous. I do like that he did try stuff to spice his show up to make it enjoyable for him again, but it’s still hard not to get the sense that Doug is still bitterly lashing out with his skits at the people who wouldn’t accept him branching out into attempts at legitimate acting. As such, they just feel like empty, over the top garbage that Doug is pushing out because he really wants to act, but he feels like he can’t because what people want is more Critic.

I guess in general it doesn’t help that Doug is just not a great actor. Just look at his performances in the anniversary movies, which horribly clash with the whiny manchild the Critic is portrayed as in the main show, orr even during some of the commercial skits he does, where he tends to overact or just get too childish and hammy. It’s so obvious to me that Doug really wants to be a legitimate actor but he just doesn’t seem to have the aptitude for it. He’s a lot better at comedy and criticism than he is at acting. Of course, that’s not to say he’s incapable of doing anything good; his review of that 3D Nutcracker movie, and in fact a lot of his more modern Christmas-related reviews, have some genuinely touching and heartfelt moments, and when Doug is staying true to the goofy, idiotic character of the Critic he can be really fun.

The Nostalgia Critic is not really a show I think I can recommend to most people. Hell, sometimes I feel like I only watch it because of, ahem, nostalgia. I definitely don’t think the show is void of good content, but when Doug drops something like The Wall, it makes me wonder… Still, I like to stick around, because when Doug hits it, he hits it out of the park. The problem is when he fails, he tends to fail in the most epic manner possible. He’s like that one bat in EarthBound which is super powerful but misses a lot, but when it hits, your opponent is pretty sure to get knocked out. I think a lot of Doug’s failings are carried by his supporting cast, and the flaws in his writing are only easy to swallow because of the genuine insights he offers. There’s just a lot to take into consideration when it comes to the Critic, it’s really hard to say if he’s good or bad. He just… is.

I definitely think some of what Doug does is bad and cringeworthy (I really can’t defend those sketches in the Deadpool 2 review or those awful Kermit puppets), but I think beneath the cringiness, beneath the overdone acting, and beneath the flaws, there are some good insights to be found about films and why they do and don’t work. I of course don’t agree with everything Doug says, but there is still genuine thought and effort. I don’t really know if I can say he’s worth going out of your way to watch, but popping in now and then to check out what Doug has to say isn’t a bad thing. I kind of wish he would go back to doing those video essays again, because I think that was some of his best work, or maybe stick to only reviewing stuff that he has some sort of genuine connection with. When he is really passionate about something, it really shows, because he puts care and effort into the analysis and is able to tell some genuinely good jokes in between snarking at the film. When he just doesn’t care… you get The Wall review. Yeah, that’s pretty much my go-to for awful Doug reviews, becauseit is emblematic of every single problem that has come to plague his worst efforts: lack of care, bad writing, crappy production values, overdone and overacted skits, manipulative editing, and zero insight into the film.

Still, as cringeworthy as he can get these days… I’ll take this version of Doug over the Bat Credit Card/Chuck Norris/Burger King “elephant”/forced meme version of Doug from his early days.

I’m Michael Ford. I remember the Nostalgia Critic so you don’t have to.

#Michael in the Mainstream #review #web show review #The Nostalgia Critic #Nostalgia Critic #NC #Doug Walker #critic #criticism #comedy #internet reviewer

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davetheshady · 5 years

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may I politely request ⭐dealer's choice director's commentary⭐for pretty much any part of Love is All You Need to Destroy Your Enemies?

Did you mean: infodump about Chapter 5?

We start off in medias res during Pteranodon Attack-Gate from Episode 4: PTA Meeting. Since most of the fic runs parallel to WTNV’s storyline for the first ~two years, the way I narrowed down which events to feature was to read through the transcripts and take note of which ones had Carlos, which ones featured science/magic/time travel-related elements, which ones had weird discrepancies or unsolved details that could be explained by Carlos/science/magic/time travel/all of the above, and which ones I just liked a lot.

Incidentally, Cecil issues a correction that the winged reptiles in question were actually pterodactyls, not pteranodons, which was then promptly forgotten by the showrunners lol.

"—And then Kelly pulled her hamstring while they were doing the Fixing of a Nail position. I'm trying to convince her that she and Joe should do yoga together, I think it would really cut back on minor injuries and also they both look great in yoga pants. Anything new with you, Carlos?"

"Nothing that compares to... hamstring injuries," says Carlos, from his position on top of the Sciencemobile.

"All right," says Kate, adjusting an enormous pair of mirrored aviator shades. "Then describe the Barstow formation."

Since literal character doubling was such an important part of the plot, I had a lot of fun with thematic character doubling, too. Carlos and Kate (and the other grad students) are actually pretty close in age, and here we see her willing to put herself into danger to get the job done while casually chatting with her colleagues. Also, there’s a nice dose of karma for the books in Carlos having to deal with someone else oversharing details about their relationships, compounded by the fact that unlike his all of Kate’s are actually true. (In nicer doubling news: Kate is the one who gets her degree in science, has functional romantic relationships, AND continues to work in Night Vale, which are all eventually Carlos’ hashtag life goals.)

"Maybe it was future you," asks Julie, who does not sound appropriately concerned for the potentially diverted course of the Currents of Time. Or for the potentially diverted course of the already unlinear life of Carlos.

This is the first conversation where she’s ‘Julie’ in his mental narration. I enjoyed having her be hilariously unsympathetic to his concerns here, because her priorities are still very different, but it also sets up a baseline. She doesn’t bother worrying about hypotheticals from the weird shit, but actual hard data (like, Carlos not sleeping and having minor breakdowns in her lab) is what prompts her to share reactions besides SCIENCE! and snark.

His stomach roils at the thought of more time travel. "Some kind of illusion is more likely," he says: some person or creature temporarily assuming his form, probably for sinister purposes. He reluctantly adds those weird doubles from the sandstorm to his list of possible suspects, though his dissolved right in front of him in the middle of next March and there haven't been any sandstorms recently.

oh hey haha what’s that

One of my biggest pet peeves in fiction is when allegedly intelligent characters ignore obvious plot points so the writer can railroad the story in their chosen direction. On the other hand, it is genuinely difficult to avoid spoiling your plot twists if your main character is actively trying to figure them out. I leaned heavily on “the character has all the basic details… along with so much other information they can’t realistically narrow it down”, combined with some red herrings: an obvious one (illusion magic) and hopefully a more convincing one (time travel as the only relevant plot: it's DEFINITELY involved, but its presence is obscuring another facet of the plot altogether).

There's always a risk that astute readers will figure it out, but, like… so? That just means instead of shocking plot twist reveal, they get an “I KNEW IT!” reveal, which is equally satisfying in a different way. As long as the characters have convincing reasons for not figuring it out, it's hopefully still enjoyable to follow along with them as they wander around in the dark.

(And just for clarification: that was Doppel-Carlos crashing the town hall meeting when he and Dr. Raith were testing out time vortices.)

Andre hands him a copy of the Night Vale Daily Journal. “’Look your best to face the void. Smooth-chinned souls are most enjoyed’,” reads Carlos. “‘Burma-Shave.’”

"No, below the ads," says Andre.

1) ‘character reads wrong piece of information in paper’ is a classic goof (“There’s a sale at Penney’s!”) and I found it very amusing to repeatedly attribute it to Carlos, since he’s genuinely trying to locate the important information. Unfortunately for him, he lives in Night Vale and no longer has a filter for “useless nonsense”, because even the nonsense has proven relevant and/or kinda murdery before.

2) Burma-Shave! This was passed down to me as part of our Great American Roadtrip Family Lore (I come from a long line of roadtrippers) and it’s definitely the kind of kitschy 50s detail that fits so well in Night Vale.

"Oh!" says Cecil. "What were you studying?"

"Bioremediation for contaminated pit lakes via sulfur-reducing bacteria," says Carlos truthfully.

Why? Because I edited one of my friends’ papers on it, that’s why. (Birds kept landing on it and dying, which is also a very Night Vale detail.)

When he returns, he finds Cecil standing by the record player with his back against the wall, staring fixedly at Carlos’ vinyl copy of Ixnay on the Hombre.

One of the DF books (I think White Night) had a hilariously high number of characters showing up wearing band t-shirts, and Carlos’ was for The Offspring. (The original file name for this fic was Original Prankster, back when I thought it would be three chapters long.)

“It’s about a wizard stranded in a strange, uncharted desert territory,” [Cactus Judy] says serenely.

Cactus Jane! I decided to make her a recurring character because 1) she’s in a time travel episode (Episode 18: The Traveler), 2) both she and TMITJ had the detail where no one can remember their real name, which seemed significant, and 3) WTNV itself did not have very many recurring female characters at that point. She’s into Shakespeare because I personally knew a lot of relevant Shakespeare quotes, but also as a hint that’s she’s a lot older (and thus a lot more supernatural) than she seems: Shakespeare was a HUGE part of pop culture in the 19th century, particularly in the southwest. Theater companies used to make more money going on tour through states with precious metal mines than they did during their whole season in the big coastal cities, probably because jaded city folks never threw gold nuggets on stage to show their appreciation.

If life is a contest between good and evil, Cecil would be one of the people handing out stickers just for participating.

This is one of my favorite lines.

My plan is fool-proof! It's sheer elegance in its simplicity!

Look, if you enjoyed this fic, WTNV, and/or The Dresden Files, you should probably go watch The Middleman. Yes, I know it’s not streaming, do it anyway. Load up on antivenom and go rent it from your local library.

“Could you [create a time vortex]?""Oh, for sure," says Carlos. "All I'd need would be a couple years to do nothing but work on a highly illegal spell and figure out a way to steal an entire ley-line's worth of power and excise my sense of morality and self-preservation.”

And WHAT are the odds of THAT

It's not that Carlos doesn't like him. It just wouldn't be fair to lead him on when Carlos wouldn't actually—

Well, Carlos wouldn’t mind asking but he doesn’t normally go for—

Okay, Carlos could definitely make an exception for Cecil and—

And—

oh NO he accidentally used logic to make himself admit he has FEELINGS

One of the reasons I love this pairing is that you have Cecil, who is incredibly emotionally open (all the time, on public radio) as a distinct contrast to Carlos, who is so used to putting up a very specific facade that he even does it to himself and then struggles when he doesn't have it to rely on. It creates conflict, but it also means they have very different perspective they can share with each other.

"Did the earth move for you, too?" says Cecil.

"Bwuh?" replies Carlos.

"At the monitoring station," says Cecil, because right, they're talking about science and not about how Carlos may or may not have accidentally developed a tiny, tiny crush on Cecil, who is standing right in front of him and looking extremely interested in what he's saying and will commit his words to memory and lovingly repeat them for all the world, or at least all of Night Vale and anyone else who received the same odd death curse as Carlos, to hear.

"Oh. Hmm – unh," replies Carlos, then shakes his head. Not talking, that's the way to go. That way he won't accidentally say something he doesn't mean, or worse, something he does mean but probably shouldn't say. Cecil can ask him science questions and he can shake his head yes or no, and maybe refer him wordlessly to supplementary materials, and it will all be very professional and—

"Where did you get your shirt?" asks Cecil. "It fits you so well."

"I'll look at my notes and computer models and see if I can figure out what's going on," Carlos blurts out, and practically runs from the room.

One of the reasons I started writing this fic (SEPTEMBER 2013, BABY god I feel old) was because we all knew Carlos was immensely important to Cecil, but had relatively little information about him, and ALL of it was filtered through our unreliable narrator. So… I just kind of ran with that.

But on top of the obvious unreliability of “didn't notice Carlos was a wizard from a different series”, I wanted to do it on the smaller scale, too, and put a different spin on the touchstones of their growing relationship that everyone was already familiar with. So this interaction is now a crisis for both of them, and for dramatically/hilariously different reasons.

“If you’re worried about going native, I’ve got bad news for you, buddy, because you do more chanting than anyone I’ve met.”

Another one of my favorite lines.

“I’ve had to hunt down people I know before, and trust me, it’s not a fun date night!”

Between Molly and fanon interpretations of Cecil, Carlos’ type is apparently 1) weird tattoos, 2) unusually-colored hair, and 3) can kill him

There's a brief hiss from the TV's speakers, and then Cecil says, in a small, forlorn voice, “I don't know if he listens to me, sometimes.”

Carlos puts his head down and laughs bitterly.

I LOVE IRONY

But even though I wanted to subvert the surface meaning, Cecil DOES still have a point. He got a good look at Carlos’ soul when they first met and still fell in love instantly, but Carlos has a difficult time hearing that because at this point he fundamentally does not believe he’s worthy of that kind of love. In order to truly believe Cecil, he also has to start learning to love and accept himself. (It’s very much a work in progress, but nobody’s perfect.) The title isn’t just meant to refer to romantic love – self-love, friendship, familial love, and unconditional love for the humanity of his trash fire town are equally important, because they all support each other.

hmu for more dvd commentary!

#thusjuniperus #love is all you need to destroy your enemies #Welcome to Night Vale #ask dave #the dresden files #fic #writing

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37h4n0l · 5 years

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would you please go on an excessive rant about kawoshin? i got a pack of popcorn to microwave i got time

Alright, there’s a whole variety of topics to address here. I think I’ll just make a long bulletpoint list. I’m trying to be reasonable in my saltiness but I’ve lost my patience with the anti-kawoshin stuff. Though if I’m wrong about anything I say on a technical level, I apologize.

[[MORE]]

I’m not surprised by the presence of dudebro fans per se. I’ve never been in a fandom with some level of mass appeal where they didn’t appear. What I’m baffled by is that they don’t just hate Eva considering that, for all the debate around whether ep24 was gay, it’ certainly something they would find gay for two guys to do and the mental gymnastics to no homo kawoshin are way more convoluted. I guess I’m becoming tired of this type of person. And of the fact that every meta community requires one to never say the word ‘gay’ even once, or everything else will be instantly dismissed. Eva is where I officially lost it regarding this topic because it’s so very obviously gay that denying it sounds like straight-up satire. But what do I know, they’re the Serious Fans and I’m just some delusional fangirl, I guess. Let them keep being smug, because clearly, “realism” is acting like lgbt people don’t exist, they got us, it was all a conspiracy to fuck with them.

What is up with the wiki’s editing? Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for the work that went into compiling all the information but the ep24 first draft’s wiki page? The exaggerated emphasis placed on it being ‘Just a draft that was rejected!!!!’ And the added commentary on how a lot of draft materials are ‘ABSOLUTELY NOT ANNO’S AUTHORIAL INTENT’ which begins to diverge from the article’s topic itself. They went as far as bolding the phrase. All of this, after explaining that Satsukawa’s drafts are written based on a general outline Anno gives him... Question of the day: what outline did Anno give Satsukawa that led to him writing that draft? The 1-2 episodes’ worth of homoeroticism, you know. Not to mention the actual ep24, the one that was okayed by Anno, which is still, frankly, really gay. Truly, whoever edited that article was the shining star of intellect. Congratulations!

And, about the quest to prove Shinji’s straight, I find it intriguing that every. single. person. brings up the fact that he jacked off to comatose Asuka. Because any normal display of being attracted to women or any of his erotic mental imagery couldn’t have done, you had to pick that as the typical behaviour to represent straight people. Interesting. I don’t understand their rituals, unfortunately. I figure they just wank to unconscious people on the regular since they love talking about it so much.

Meanwhile bisexual people let out a soft sigh at this whole discussion.

My favourite phenomenon, and the one I was originally going to complain about, is the group of people who took the step of admitting kawoshin is canon, but because they’re sore losers they’re trying to demonstrate how it’s unhealthy. I don’t like having to say all of this because some of the analysts on board with this, I actually like a fair amount. But sorry, if it’s a stupid idea, then it’s a stupid fucking idea and I can’t act like it’s not. So, apparently, Kaworu=bad because he’s too idealized and conforms too perfectly with what Shinji wants, and that’s impossible for human beings so that’s — allegedly — why he turns out to be an angel and has to die. I think the second half of this interpretation has elements that make sense. Maybe. In that I agree that having to kill Kaworu was relevant to the plot and Shinji’s character development (‘unraveling’ might be a more accurate word...). But it’s not because there was any problem with kawoshin as a relationship; it’s because Shinji has to learn not to rely on outside factors for self-worth. That doesn’t say anything about how good those outside factors are for him in themselves, just that he has a tendency of making his own value depend on them whether they’re healthy things or not. Declaring Kaworu to be a negative influence because he’s ‘not a Real Person’ is akin to saying Shinji would be better off hanging out with the ‘Real People’ in his life. The choices for healthy bonds are then: 1) Misato, who has issues with drinking and sex and has made moves on Shinji while being twice his age 2) Rei, who is debatably even a single entity and is a clone of Shinji’s mother that he occasionally sees as a substitute for her 3) Asuka, who continuously talks shit to him, beats him up, expects him to fulfill her desires for precocious sexual maturity and is completely insensitive to anything bad happening to him, including the time he almost died 4) Gendo. I’m being harsh. I appreciate all of these characters and it’s independently from their individual complexity that I observe how they keep trying to dump their own issues on Shinji. I don’t know if it’s about gender. I’m never quite sure.

I can’t say much about the Netflix dub that hasn’t been said already. For one thing, changing ‘love’ to ‘like’ makes no sense in terms of the plot. For another, I agree that phrasing means little to nothing with the visuals on screen. But, just to add something to it, the next time I see someone piggybacking on this discourse to express their “sympathy for how the translators are being treated”, I want them to know that it’s really transparent. Also that anyone from the staff could have said “I did this because it’s my job but I don’t think it was a good choice to translate it like that” at any point. But, for all I know, maybe Netflix is some kind of corporate dictatorship where you can’t express mild disagreement with your colleague’s work or you get instantly fired. I don’t quite care what emotional state translators are in because of the backlash. With this attitude, we’d be obligated to suck it up with any divisive higher decision, lest we hurt someone’s feelings by disliking it. It would have been so easy to keep the phrase in. Absolutely no effort. This was done, I believe, intentionally to pander to dudebros because a lot of people involved probably had no clear understanding of what Eva is and which people it attracts, so they went with ‘eh, it’s probably the average mecha fans’. Companies like this want you to sit back and stay comfortable and amoebic, never being exposed to anything that pokes at your sensitivities — so lgbt content needs to be in a segregated place, available for The Gays while everyone else can peacefully avoid it. And we’ll all be content and appeased and really fucking dopamine-hooked on online streaming. It’s gonna be really, really funny when everyone finds out Eva is centered around subversion with or without the homosexual undertones.

To make it clear, I have no way of knowing what goes on in Anno’s head and I would never blame him for anything considering he created kawoshin and Eva as a whole, things that had a positive effect on me. It needs to be said though; are we sure that and only that which he says publicly is an accurate canon fact about the show? Do we really think his public statements don’t go through any filters, especially when it’s about topics like homosexuality? He already got so many death threats over the tv ending that he got pissed and made EoE. Can you imagine what would happen if he declared kawoshin to be canon? Just ponder on this before taking it for granted that him not saying there was a romantic relationship between them means there wasn’t.

Tangentially related; Anno’s “it wasn’t carnal” as well as the draft rejection seems more related to how the ep24 draft would have, according to the staff, looked like borderline porn. I think our perspective on how far Eva goes is a bit skewed by the clusterfuck in EoE. None of the kids really had carnal desires in the original series — no, not even Asuka, she thought she did because of her issues but it’s fairly clear from her introspection and breakdown that she likes only the idea of being physically intimate but is kind of disgusted by the reality of it (washing her mouth after just kissing Shinji), as people normally are at fourteen. I take Anno’s statement more as “Shinji wasn’t blushing because he was turned on”, not that he didn’t like Kaworu romantically.

I find a lot of discussion around representation formulaic and word salad-ish. The same niche terms with no distinct meaning thrown together in random combinations. But I think I understand it somewhat now, to a small degree. I was so happy about kawoshin. I was genuinely so, so happy. Granted, my expectations for canon lgbt are so low they’re approaching the Earth’s core, but this ship gives me so many positive feelings that I don’t want it taken away from me. I don’t have it in me to engage in anyone’s intricate debates on whether it’s canon or not and I have absolutely no time or care for straight fans’ gaslighting on the issue.

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simone-garnett · 5 years

Text

short title: meant to be long title: doesn’t really matter if you’re on the run, it seems like we’re meant to be pairing: killervibe word count: 8 600 (of 31k+) rating: explicit (!!) part: 2 of 3 information: *insert the ‘it’s been 84 years gif* supervillain au.

pt i /// ffn /// ao3

He is over her apartment a few nights later, Caitlin surprised at the knock on her window. He slips in with an easy smile on his face, taking a seat - her seat - eating the spaghetti she had been in the middle of. She scoffs at his swagger, mock indignation on her face as he continues to eat her food, critiquing her techniques and offering advice. Caitlin rolls her eyes, padding into the kitchen to prepare herself a plate of spaghetti for herself, smiling to herself as he rambled on about his day and the general annoyance of the police. Not once mentioning that she had prepared enough food for two people that night.

(She had been hopeful, she admits. But gosh, was it worth it.)

She watches him with curious eyes, Vibe wordlessly picking up the phone that was beside his - her - plate, swiping through her apps and contacts. She knows he is typing something, Caitlin watching on amused as his face becomes serious for a moment before he slides her phone over to her. “That’s my number.” And the amusement vanishes from her face, shock taking its place. “If you ever are in an emergency or need help or just want to talk, call me.” She nods slowly. “It’s untraceable,” he adds. “So don’t think anyone can use it to find me.”

She kisses him. And it startles him, the contact brief and chaste. But his heart doesn’t recover, not for a long time afterwards.

“I’m sorry it took so long,” he rushes out. “You didn’t have a number because I didn’t have a mobile. I got this for you. Everyone else has other methods of contacting me,” his face darkens momentarily, disappearing as she cups his face in her hands. “Don’t abuse it,” he teases. “You know what they say about great power.” At the look of confusion on her face his teasing expression disappears. “I’m going to ask you a question and if the answer is no I’m going to flip out okay?” She winces, already aware she’d disappoint. “Have you seen Spiderman Caity? Any of them?”

She shakes her head, biting back a smile as he leans back in his chair, groaning as if in agony. “Sorry?”

“Oh it’s fine,” he replies, already up out of his seat and tugging her along. “Tonight we watch them all. And you’ll tell me your favourite Spiderman and I’ll tell you about all the reasons you’re wrong if you don’t say Tom Holland.” She snorts in laughter, separating from him to prepare popcorn and grab some chocolate. Five minutes later she was snuggled into his side watching Tobey Maguire getting bitten, laughing at Vibe’s commentary of the movie.

She falls asleep during one of Andrew Garfield’s movies, Vibe sighing to himself, switching it off the television and carrying her to the bedroom. He lingers, watching her sleep, a smile on her face. She’s beautiful, he thinks not for the first time. The moonlight shining on her face through the open curtains made his breath hitch, the glow angelic. And he brushes a lock from her face, smiling at himself as she smiles wider, her hot breath against his wrist.

He needs to leave. Now.

But he finds that he doesn’t want to.

And that scares him more than most things do.

She does abuse the knowledge of his number, calling because she missed the sound of his voice, calling because she missed him, because something happened at work she needed to vent about. She’d hesitantly text him, never sure if he was on a mission, if her calling would distract him or kill.

But he never complained, not once.

More often than not he calls her back, a smile settling on his face as she rambles on about the events of the day, informing him of the developments in Iris’ wedding. He nods, a smile spread across his lips at the stories, at her excitement for her best friend, the date nearing. He can hear the sadness in her voice, and he knows she is thinking of him, of their inability to be seen in public together. Caitlin may have accepted it as a condition of their relationship, but it was never going to be an easy road to travel and he hated hearing the effects of it on her.

There would also be times where she would call to tease him, to drive him to the point of distraction until all he could do was breach into her apartment, her bedroom. It was pure evil, sultry voice and filthy words, Caitlin telling him that she needs him, that she wants him, that she is wet thinking about him and what he should do to her. She offers suggestions, her breath becoming more shallow as they both think on what she is saying, the words flowing easily. And she would continue until he snaps, until he would touch her and hold her and enact her very wishes, leaving the pair of them content and satiated.

Vibe realises quickly that it’s her way of bringing him back to her. Yes, she may be horny at times, but she was always so affectionate afterwards, pressing gentle kisses over his body, cuddling with him, asking about his day with genuine interest. She asks him to wait until she falls asleep, an easy request for a man who doesn’t like leaving.

She misses him, more than his voice or his body. She misses his presence, misses his smile, misses quirks about him that he never realised he had. And so when she gives him a copy of her key, bashful as she stumbles over the explanation, just insistent that he should have a copy, he accepts it without a qualm.

The smile that lights up her face, that lights up the universe, is dazzling and he knows he would be using it more than she thought he would.

He likes it. Likes coming through her front door and not sneaking in through the side. It gives him a feeling of legitimacy, that they are legitimate. He knows he could create a portal to enter, she had questioned him on this point numerous times, laughing as he struggled to find an answer. It had started as a way to let her know he was in her house, the window a signal she subconsciously understood. And the key, symbolic as it was, gave him a sense of normalcy.

There is a warm glow around her door and he knows that she is inside, and the warm glow spreads to inside him at the thought of having her in his arms, having them together after a few nights apart. He whistles to himself, content with their relationship, slipping his key into her door, her name a song on his lips as he enters the cool apartment.

But he stills in his spot, the blare of the television unable to hide the sniffles and whimpers she was making.

“Caitlin.” The cry is torn from his lips, Vibe finding himself before her instantly, dropping to his knees, his hands cradling her face. Tears wet his thumb pads, and it burns his skin like acid, a crying angel in front of him, a tub of melted ice cream in her lap. She doesn’t meet his eyes, gaze instead focussed ahead at the TV blaring in the background. Vibe wipes away those tears with his fingers, the liquid smeared across her face. But he wipes so delicately, so gently, again and again, but to no avail, fresh tears welling up in her eyes, pouring out from the sides. There is nothing he can do and it tears him up inside. “Cait-” His voice cracks. “What’s wrong?”

It is a heaving sob, and he can hear her tears, even in her breath. “He died Vibe. He -” She cuts herself off, hands shifting the ice-cream to her side, switching it for a pillow. And Caitlin squeezes it, the material pressed against her chest, pushed into itself tightly as she tries to work out her emotions. “He was alive and happy and now he’s dead.” Her wailing takes a turn for the worse, tears falling faster as she watches the screen. Vibe turns his head, watching as hunters slaughter a family of zombies, the pair of them dirty and sweaty and happy with their kill.

It is a gruesome sight, but it doesn’t make sense. They had watched more heart wrenching movies together and while she was misty eyed, she had not once shed a tear.

“Okay,” and Vibe moves the ice cream to her dining table, taking its spot beside her on the couch. She falls easily into his chest, crying until her throat was raw and eyes stung. She clung to him, hands fisting his now-soaked shirt, holding him, using him for strength she couldn’t find in herself. And he relinquishes it willingly, his arm wrapping around her small frame, holding her to him as he whispered whatever words of comfort he could, his hand stroking her hair. “Talk to me Caity,” he murmurs against the crown of her head, Vibe pressing a gentle kiss against her hair and his fingers rub soothing circles against the small of her back.

She hiccups a few times, still too distraught to answer him. And so he waits, humming softly, hoping that it will help her. And he holds her until the crying quietens, Caitlin forceful, but gentle, as she pulls away from his embrace.

“You’re not crying because of the show, so who broke your heart?”

She sniffles, wiping her cheek with the back of her sleeve. “What are you talking about?”

“Caitlin,” he says softly, warning. She sighs, pulling away from his chest to face him. But she can’t meet his eyes, instead playing with the ends of his shirt, laughing softly to herself as she reads the pun on it.

“His name was Ronnie,” she says eventually and he knows he isn’t going to like how the story ends. “He was - well he was my fiance. But then he died -” She takes a shuddering breath before finishing. “Two years ago. Today.” It is only then that she looks him in the face, Caitlin pretending to be okay, but the smile was as watery as her tears, and the anguish is palpable, written on her face, shining in her eyes. It leaves him feeling unsettled, leaving him feeling heartbroken. Leaves him wanting to take away her pain and protect her from the future.

(He ignores that feeling, scared to analyse why.)

“You still love him, huh?”

She shakes her head slowly, barely a movement side to side but it has the shards of his heart rising in hope, still broken for the woman beside him. “I don’t. I mean, I do, a small part of me always will. But I’m not mourning anymore. I don’t -” she huffs, in annoyance he realises. Annoyance with herself. The touch of his hand over her own is startling, the soft brush of his thumb pad against the back of her palm has her relaxing and she looks at his eyes. His goggles. And she wishes she could see them, wishes she could know how he looked at her.

“Talk to me Caity.”

“There was a fire at work - not the centre, but STAR Labs, where I was before. He had run back in to make sure I was okay.” She bites her lip, blinking repeatedly to keep the tears at bay. “I came out after he had gone back in and I didn’t know he was looking for me. He didn’t know I was out already and he never made it back.” There is a rock in her throat, a boulder which scraped her skin every time she tried to swallow her saliva. It hurt, it hurt so much. “He umm, he died of smoke inhalation, suffered third degree burns because he wanted to save me. I killed him.”

Her words startle him and his head jerks back. “No you didn’t.” It was a swift denial, Vibe shaking his head in disbelief.

Caitlin however, she averts her eyes, teeth tugging at her bottom lip as she nods, resigned to bearing the guilt she has worn for so long. “But I did Vibe. He would have been out if it wasn’t for me. Because I was late.” She laughs, sharp and bitter and broken. “Guilt is a horrible thing. I killed the man I loved and I swore I wouldn’t fall in love again after Ronnie. I swore it to myself and here I am.” He is obtuse, intentionally so. Because he can’t focus on her last few words, can’t listen to the confession from her lips, can’t read into her words. Because she needed him to be strong, she needed him and if he were to let them ring in his ears and mind and heart, if he were to pause and let them settle into his bones and tattoo themselves on his skin - he may never cope. And she needed him more than he needed himself.

“Did I ever tell you about Cynthia?” Her eyebrows furrow as she tried to recall the name. But it didn’t sound familiar, not in the slightest. The locks of her hair move as she shakes her head. “I think the news called her Gypsy.” Realisation dawns at the code name and he sighs, his heart heavy at the memory of her. “She was Gypsy to them, but she was Cynthia to me. We’d been dating for god knows how long and I had loved her, told myself as soon as I had enough money scraped together I’d propose.” His head tilts down, unable to watch her expressions, unable to see the pity in her eyes. Instead he focusses on their hands, Caitlin having placed her other hand on top of his, her skin cool against his hot. “She died before I could. It was a robbery, bigger than normal because I was getting greedy. She was shot and she died and she never knew Caity.” He swears lowly to himself, his hand squeezing tightly around her own. “She never knew. And she didn’t even get a proper funeral.” There is a haunted sound to his voice and it grips at her heart, clutches it and she knows then that she is at his mercy.

“Surely her family would have come forward…” She breaks off when he shakes his head, Vibe biting his lip and hiding his face from her.

“She wasn’t from our world, came from something she called Earth-19. But she was so excited to find someone with the same powers and she stayed here, for me. She didn’t exist here, didn’t have any family, no one except me,” He needs to wipe away his tears, can feel them falling, his goggles fogging up. “And she would have never been there if it wasn’t for me. I convinced her to join me, I convinced her to become a criminal. She’d still be alive if it wasn’t for me and that’s something I gotta live with.” His breath is wet and she doesn’t need to see them to know he was crying. “So really, you didn’t kill him Caitlin. Because I know what it’s like to kill the person you love and that’s not it.”

He turns his back to her then, Vibe lifting up his goggles to wipe away his tears and clean the moisture building up on the lens. He jumps when slender arms wrap around his waist, a body pressed against his back, cheek resting against his shoulder blade. “Thank you.” It could be said for multiple reasons, and he doesn’t want any clarification, only wants her hands holding him, a reminder that he is allowed beautiful things in his life.

That he is allowed her.

“Come on,” she whispers after a while, pulling away from him and getting up off the couch. He can hear her rummage around in the kitchen, before returning, her hand on his shoulder, turning him around. And she is there standing before him, ice cream in her hand and two spoons sticking out of it. “Ice cream and a movie. Your choice.” She smiles at him, encouraging and sweet and he nods, plucking the container from her lap as she sits beside him, giving him the remote as he scrolls through her Netflix account.

The night is filled with laughter as he chooses a comedy, and his heart beats hard in his chest as she leans into him, burying her face in his shoulder to muffle the laughter.

He thinks Cynthia would have liked her, thinks that she would be okay with her, with them.

He thinks she would be okay with him falling in love again.

Her day at work had been exhausting - it generally was, but it was a day more tiring than most, Caitlin longing for her couch, dreaming of putting up her feet and resting, take-away ordered to her door because honestly, the strength needed for cooking was something she didn’t possess.

And so it is surprising when she opens the door, the delicious smell of cooking food wafting into her nostrils. She takes a deep breath, eyes fluttering closed as her mouth begins to wet, stomach rumbling as she craves whatever Vibe is cooking. She leans against her door, a smile on her lips as she remains there, the tensions of the day rolling off her back. “Are you going to enter or what?” The amusement in his tone causing her eyelids to lift.

She finds him instantly, Vibe spread out across the couch, flicking through her channels. And as if he knew she was watching him he turned to her, smirk on his lips as he said nothing at all. It doesn’t scare her, the idea of her coming home to him, not as much as she thinks it should. Because she knows who he is, knows that he is still a criminal, knows that he has hurt some, killed others. But here, in her home, in his life, she doesn’t think he could ever do that to her. Doesn’t think he’d entertain the idea for a moment. She could only hope that his presence here would be a daily thing.

She clears her throat, redness tinting her cheeks as she catches her thoughts. “So, I smell dinner?”

The corners of his mouth pull up into a smile that lights up the room, Vibe jumping up from off the seat. “I thought I’d test out some of my mother’s recipes.” He runs off to the kitchen, grabbing the pot and bringing it to her table. She stifles a gasp when she catches sight of it, plates set out, a bottle of wine chilling in an ice basket. He hovers near a chair, a nervous expression on his face. “So, you hungry?” The nod in response is quick and sharp and she’s surprised she didn’t run to him, her cheeks aching from the smile on her face, so wide and bright and she tries to pull it back. She fails. He pulls the chair back for her, Caitlin sitting down, warm eyes looking up at him in thanks as he pushes it in before taking a seat himself. He is adjacent to her and she’s thankful that he wasn’t on the opposite side, that he was close enough to touch.

He serves her and then himself, Vibe waiting for her to eat before he could stomach the idea of doing it himself. And she gives him an encouraging smile before her first forkful. She moans at the taste, exquisite and divine, as if he had stolen it from the gods themselves and brought it down to earth for her to sample. There is no embarrassment in her reaction, not with his toothy grin, Vibe unable to quell the smile even as he started eating from his own plate. She finishes it quickly, sighing in contentment as she relaxes against the back of her seat. “Incredible,” she sighs. “You’ve been hiding that recipe from me.” she scowls playfully, easily broken by her smile.

He grins again, shoulders falling as if in relief. “There’s dessert if you want.” She lights up at the suggestion. “I didn’t make it,” he adds quickly. “But I did get ice cream.” The eager nod leaves him laughing to himself, Vibe pushing the chair back as he goes to her freezer, pulling it out and getting the plates and cutlery. She moves to help him but stops when he holds his hand out to her, Caitlin humming in laughter as he carries it all back to the table, eyes lighting up at the cookies ‘n cream flavoured ice cream - she knew she didn’t have that in stock yesterday. She makes no motion to move, indulging him as he feeds her the first spoonful.

“So,” she starts teasingly. “Any reason for all of this?”

He straightens his posture, Vibe forcing his voice to remain steady. “Nah, not really. Just bored and thought I’d cook here. It’s much better than my kitchen. Why?” His words dishearten her, but she knows she should have expected it.

“Oh, nothing.” She doesn’t want to push him, doesn’t want to force the real answer from his mouth if he wasn’t ready to admit the significance of the date.

Because it is their first anniversary, the first time she met him. The first time he saved her.

(He’s been saving her ever since.)

His movements still the moment she touches his hand, lightly, slowly, Caitlin relishing in the softness of the skin, her heart clenching as she runs her fingers over scars and marks that would never heal. He is watching her, she can feel his gaze searing her soul even if she couldn’t see it, his mouth hanging a little open.

A flood of emotion hits her, and she is washed away by its intensity, an earnestness taking over her heart and mouth. “Thank you Vibe.” It is a hoarse whisper and she can only pray he understands the depth of emotion. There is a flicker of something across his face - well, the parts of it she could see and she feels as though she upset him somehow. “For everything.” She leans forward, determined to not scare him. It is a chaste kiss against the corner of his mouth, Caitlin lingering. And as she pulls away he turns his head, capturing her lips in a heated kiss, hand moving to cup the back of her head, to hold her to him as he drunk her in. She could taste the ice cream on his tongue, and while it was cold he still manages to scorch the inside of her with his mouth. Eventually he lets go, the angle awkward for the both of them to continue on.

She is sure she’s a mess, but he smiles at her and she blushes. “Come on,” he gets up, hand held out to her. She takes it without hesitation. “I’m sure there’s a movie I can educate you on.” The laughter in his voice was evident, Caitlin sticking her tongue at him even as she follows him to the couch. He puts on a movie, a classic he says with a confident smile, and she curls her feet up underneath her, leaning into him, letting the sound of his voice wash over her as he explains to her the genius behind the masterpiece.

Her eyes open without Caitlin realising she had closed them, Vibe nudging her awake with an amused expression on his face. “Sorry,” she blushes. “Did I miss out on much?”

He laughs. “Nah, you just fell asleep.” She slips her feet out from under her, stretching her arms and legs.

“Sorry,” she apologises again. “It was a busy day at work. I’ll stay awake I swear.”

“Come on,” and he pushes her gently to lie against the arm rest, Vibe picking up her feet and resting them in her lap. “You enjoy the movie, okay?” And she nods at his soft command, moaning as his fingers start to massage her feet, her toes curling at the sensation. He chuckles, his face still pointed toward the movie playing on the screen. So she turns her head to watch, trying to ignore the incredible sensation of Vibe rubbing small circles against the base of her foot, deepening the massage as he worked his way up her calf. And her eyelids began feeling heavy, Caitlin struggling to stay awake. And she tries, she had promised him after all…

She awakens long after he had left, the TV off and cold, the dishes washed and dried and put away. But she wakes up to the smell of him, his leather jacket thrown over her body like a blanket, Caitlin breathing deeply, sighing at the scent of his cologne and warmth.

And she couldn’t help but wanting to wake up to his scent every morning.

She calls him the moment work finishes, Caitlin aware he was already at her house, complaining of boredom through a barrage of texts. She sighs fondly, her workmates sending quizzical glances her way as they hear the vibration of the texts on her desk.

And the moment they are done she is out the door, mobile by her ear, the dial tone in her ear as she waits for him to pick up. It rings twice, his cheery voice in her ear, Vibe venting about the latest television show he was watching, Caitlin seven episodes behind and only partially following the conversation.

“Are you home?” she asks casually.

He responds in the affirmative, telling her what he had prepared to dinner, Caitlin grumbling as a pang of hunger shots through her. He laughs at her complaints, smile spreading across his face.

But then she screams, shrill and panicked.

And he can hear the phone drop.

“Caitlin!” he roars, prepared dinner now abandoned as he portals to his own house, gloves slipped on his hands, armour on. “Where are you Caitlin?”

And he doesn’t know if she can hear him but she does answer him, screaming at him the street location, a sob leaving her as she prays he can hear her. He can. He can also hear the man with her, a deep growl leaving him as she is told to shut up if she wants to live and see another day.

He portals to her, stepping out of it, catching sight of the man, three times larger than her in width and weight, more muscle than fat. She was trembling, arms around herself as she pleads for him to stop, to please stop.

Vibe steps on something, his heart sinking when he realises it was her bag, that she had listened to his advice from when they first met and yet she was here in the same scenario. He sees red when her attacker chuckles darkly at her words, ignoring them as he approaches, leaning too close. There is a knife in his hand, the man dragging the flat edge of the blade across the angles of her face before sliding down her neck and to her chest, the sharp point tearing the top of her shirt.

He thinks she whimpers his name, calling for him in her time of need. And then he knows it, Caitlin screaming now, panic and fear entwined in her call, shrill and desperate and she loses hope.

“Hey,” he snaps, making his presence known. There is a barely controlled rage in the word and h grits his teeth trying to hold himself back. The man stops, shock on his face as he sees who had come to save the woman.

“Oh,” and there is that chuckle again, it grates upon his nerves. “You saw him and hoped he’d help. Well sweetie,” he turns his back on Vibe, facing Caitlin instead, more relaxed than he had been before. “He won’t save you. He won’t even care.” The smirk is disgusting. “He never has before.”

It is the last thing he says before finding himself blasted ten metres away.

Vibe almost forgets that Caitlin is there anymore, so blinded by anger that everything blurs away. He stalks toward the other man, Vibe cracking his knuckles, a chuckle of his own. “So,” he starts, almost conversationally. “Are you ready to die?”

There is another blast, smaller. The brute flinches, and Vibe revels in the fear shining in his eyes. There is a swagger in his step, Vibe now a metre away. And he knows he should make sure the man is dead, is ready for it to happen.

But then he hears a whimper.

And he remembers what was most important,

Caitlin.

And suddenly, killing this guy isn’t a priority anymore. He looks to the left, a shaky Caitlin still clinging to the wall behind her. The blast to the man is enough to knock him out, potentially kill. But Vibe is more focussed on sweeping Caitlin into his arms, the woman clinging to him as he creates a breach and steps through it.

They end up in the centre of her living room, Vibe still holding her tightly against him, afraid that she would fade away if he gave the the opportunity. His heart rate is hard and fast, and it is with great reluctance that he drops her legs and allows her to stand on her own. But she doesn’t let go of him, doesn’t even dream of it.

It is only then that he allows himself to feel the fear of potentially losing her.

The world stops around them, Vibe with shaky hands cupping her face. He rests his forehead on hers, and their breath steadies, enjoying the presence of the other, letting it it soak into their bones. “I - I was so afraid Caitlin. God -” his voice cracks. And he pulls his face away, trembling hands tilting hers up so she could meet his gaze. “I don’t think I could handle it, losing you.” She cuts him off by kissing him, kisses him like he is the air she needs to breath, and she holds him tightly, as if letting go would have him slip through her fingers. It is all consuming, and he relinquishes any delusions of resistance. The air is filled with breathy moans and pleas, Caitlin deepening the kiss, tongue sweeping into his mouth, canvassing the cavern, desperate to taste every inch. A strangled groan leaves his throat, Vibe kissing her back just as fiercely, one of his hands sliding to her back, holding her close. The idea that he may been denied this, that he may have turned on the news and heard of her murder, or had her call him - body bloodied and broken, trembling voice as she cries for him to pick her up - it haunts him and spurs him, Vibe’s grip tight in her hair, tugging it. He thinks he should apologise, should loosen his hold, but Caitlin moans against his mouth whenever he tugs, electricity shooting through her system, the pain a reminder that she was still alive. And she was here, with him, that she had this opportunity to touch him, to run her hands over his naked skin if she so chooses, that she can feel his hair between her fingertips. That she can kiss him, that she can ride him, that she could lie underneath him, can curl up beside him.

That she still has him.

And that was the greatest source of pleasure.

They separate, Caitlin burying her face in the crook of his shoulder, lashes brushing against the exposed skin on his neck. “Bedroom,” she manages, Vibe nodding enthusiastically at the suggestion. But they don’t move, don’t want to separate for enough time to get them to a bedroom. They instead stay still for a few minutes, choosing to bask in the moment, in the presence of the other.

Caitlin presses kisses, light and gentle from his chin and across his jawline. The deep and steady breathing from Vibe turns forceful, his jaw clenched as he tries to hold himself together when he’s so close to flying apart. “Caitlin,” he stutter out, the lady in question smiling as she continues on. “Cait-lin.”

And he can’t stand her teasing any longer, Vibe taking one step backward, Caitlin in his arms. It is a little disorientating, one second in her living room, the next in her bedroom, and he holds her close as she gets her bearings. It’s incredible to do even that, Caitlin here and in his arms.

But then she isn’t.

“Wait,” she whispers, pushing him slightly, the door firm behind him. The steps backward are slow and deliberate, Caitlin not dropping his gaze, not for a single moment. She stops when she’s over an arms length away, fire in her gaze as she pins him with a look. Vibe leans back against the door, seeks it as an anchor. And she reaches behind her, the zip of her dress coming down slowly as she drags it. It falls to the floor, Caitlin standing in her bra and underwear and heels.

The wood is cold underneath his fingers, Vibe digging them into the door as he tries to ground himself. He can’t look away from her, can’t move an inch as she stands before him. She is a angel, a goddess and she doesn’t realise it.

She can’t look away from him, eyes dark as she takes in his reaction. His breathing is laboured, restraint barely controllable, and it fills her with heat, a warmth burning low in her stomach, an ache in her centre.

The steps toward him are tantalisingly slow, Caitlin biting her bottom lip as she nears him, stopping mere centimetres away from him. He loses his armour, a plain black tee shirt worn underneath. And she reaches for it, Vibe stopping her from lifting it up, covering her hand with his own. And they lift it up together, Vibe letting go of one of her hands so they could discard it somewhere on the side, fingers interlacing as they can’t bear to stay separated.

It was different, everything was different. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation and she was suffocating in it, desperate for something to help her, to save her from the overwhelming feeling that was around her, pressing down until she was sure her legs would collapse from underneath her. She finds her saviour in Vibe, in his touch, so light, so gentle, sparks erupting across her skin.

“Vibe, please.” She doesn’t need to say more, not when she pulls back from him, dark eyes alluring as she walks backward, his hand still in hers. Caitlin drags him with her, the woman stopping when she feels her mattress behind her knees. And he lowers her down, Caitlin stepping out of her heels and adjusting herself so that she would be in the middle of the bed. He toes off his socks and shoes and follows her.

He leans over her, moving as she moves, not willing to extend the distance between themselves anymore than necessary. But still the contact between them is light and teasing and not at all enough for them. His hands are braced on each side of her head, Vibe leaning down, a hairbreadth between their faces.

It almost seems like a challenge between them, a question of who would break first.

There is no clear answer, something shifting between them, the pair falling off the precipice and into the unknown. All that was known was that they needed each other, needed to kiss each other, touch each other, see each other. It is like an explosion inside them, intense in its ferocity, consuming them both. And they give in, to the feeling, to each other, Caitlin dragging her nails down his back, Vibe’s grip on her hips strong. And there may be marks, may be bruises left after tonight, but they would treasure each blemish, a reminder that she was alive, that she still had him, that he saved her, he would always save her. The desperate need they had dulled the pain, heightened the euphoria, the ecstasy of the moment. Breathing was secondary to their need to touch the other, to kiss the other, to see the other.

And kissing quickly becomes not enough for Caitlin, her body burning for Vibe. “Your pants,” she orders and he chuckles against her, dark and delicious and full of unspoken promises.

“Of course.” And he does remove them, along with his underwear, her gaze appreciative as it rakes down his body. “Like what you see?”

He leans into her, his arousal evident against her thigh. Caitlin separates her legs for him, accommodating his body and he can feel her warmth through the flimsy material between their bodies, Vibe thrusting against her clothed centre as she continues to kiss, to suck, to bite any piece of skin she could put her mouth on. She sighs his name, cries it out, Vibe, Vibe, V i b e.

He stops moving and Caitlin arches into him, desperate for more contact, driven more by primal instincts than conscious thought. “Vibe,” she whines, her arms around his neck, trying to tug him down.

“Cisco,” he grunts and she stops, confusion flickering across her face. “My name is Cisco,” he clarifies and she kisses him, mouth sliding across his jaw, Caitlin sucking on his ear.

“Cisco,” she says instead and he shudders at the sound, raspy and hoarse and he wants. “Cisco,” she repeats, wet kisses down his neck, Caitlin pulling away to blow against it, a shiver sent down his spine at the sensation. “Cisco,” she says again, because it is his name, because she knows his name and she can say it over and over and over.

She rolls them over, Caitlin straddling his hips, his erection pressed deliciously against her centre. But she ignores it, ignores the desperate urge to grind against him, to have him slip into her, and she settles down further down his thighs, leaning forward over him so she could press kisses across his body, his name, his real name, interspersed between each. She makes her way down his chest, nipping at his stomach, grinning as a litany of curse words leave him in a breath. She is able to play him like an instrument made for her fingers, Caitlin plucking at his heart strings, at his libido without effort. It leaves him taut, Cisco grabbing her sheets in his hands tightly, the need to slip his hands through her hair, to pull her back up to him, almost overwhelming. But then he feels her hot breath on his cock, Cisco looking down at her, mouth so close to where he wants it to be, her hair falling down like a curtain around her face, the tips brushing against his hips. He watches as he lowers her mouth over him, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the warm sensation. He can barely keep a grip on his control, gaze flicking back to her. But then she looks at him, and the vision before him, her kneeling over him, the feel of her mouth around him,

it is almost too much.

“No, no.” It hurts to say that, Cisco pulling her back up his body, erection straining. “I won’t last if you keep doing that Caity. Damn, I’m already so close, I just -” He cuts himself off, kissing her instead, desperate and messy and he isn’t sure how he lived without her in his life. She melts against him, Caitlin vocal in her satisfaction, in her need for more. Eventually she breaks it off, shaky breaths filling her lungs as he leans up, Cisco kissing her neck, sucking the sensitive spot behind her ear, throaty moans filling the air as she feels heat flood her veins.

She pulls away from him, a shy look on her expression, and it endears her all the more to him. “Cisco.” Her fingers glide through his hair, resting on the strap. And there is a question in her gaze. “Can I?”

He nods, his head tilted inward as she unclips the goggles, lifting them off his head, dropping them beside the bed. She can gaze on him unhindered, his face, his eyes. And they are so warm, burning and vulnerable. And she takes the time to memorise every feature, each freckle and line and eyelash. He looks so normal, so -

“Beautiful,” she whispers and something flickers in his gaze. His eyes are so expressive she sucks in a breath and she forgets how to exhale for a moment, forgets anything but him. She searches his gaze, can do so for the first time since she met him, and she feels frozen in place at the intensity of it. A small part of her saddens at the realisation she had been denied this for so long. “You’re so beautiful.” It is a hallowed whisper, and they burn, consume her. And she leans down, pressing a lingering kiss on his forehead, on each of his eyes, the tip of his nose.

Their kiss is soft, gentle. And she feels as though all his walls had fallen down around them. He was no longer Vibe, but Cisco. And he was Vibe, but he is so much more than that. He is delicate in his touch, his hand spanning over her neck, holding her against him as he tilts his head, sucking on her bottom lip,eliciting a soft moan from her. His other hand skims down the side of her body, resting on her thigh, fiddling with the lace undergarment with his thumb.

Her heart swells inside her and everything is just too much, it’s all too much. “Cisco,” it is a strangled groan and he growls in her ear. But it only spurs her on, Caitlin repeating it over and over, because she can, because she loves it. Because she loves him. And he teases her back, rolling them so that she was on her back, a trail of fire up the inside of her thigh as his palm presses heavily against her, fingers light against her centre. She breaks of into a whimper, hip jerking at the sensation, seeking more friction.

And he gives it to her, slipping her panties down her legs, teasing her until she was completely wet. She stops him, breaking the kiss. His eyes on hers, unblinking, unwavering. It is Caitlin who reaches over blindly to her bedside table, but she can’t find it and Cisco presses a quick kiss on her lips before moving, pulling the drawer open and tearing the pack open, slipping it on. But it is her hand on him, guiding him to her entrance, Caitlin sucking in a breath as he slips into her.

He normally is so vocal, they both are, but they can’t find the words, unintelligible groans leaving their lips at the connection. He can’t look away from her face, and her his, Cisco thrusting against her, Caitlin trying to meet each of them, mewling as he slips in deeper, a shudder of pleasure wracking through her body.

He moves in her slowly, her legs bracketing his waist, heels urging him onward. “I’m so close Caity,” he chokes out.

“God, me too.” And she can feel it building up inside her, Cisco steady and strong and his thumb presses against her clit. And then all she can see is stars, eyelids closing as she comes around him, a scream torn from her lips. He buries his head on the crook of his neck, mouth sucking hard on her neck. His thrusting is more sloppy and uncontrolled, but goodness, he feels amazing. And she regrets not seeing his face when he does, Cisco stiffening, her name on his lips as he releases inside the condom.

He collapses beside her, his face buried in the hollow of her neck. She purrs at the sensation, his breath hot on her skin, Cisco kissing her shoulder. He pulls away, Caitlin turning to him, watching as he slips out of the bed. And he leans over, a quick kiss on her lips, almost apologetic as he slinks into her bathroom to clean up. He opens the door to her waiting by the door, sliding in as he comes out.

She isn’t sure what would happen when she leaves the bathroom, isn’t sure whether he’d be napping on her bed, whether he’d put his clothes on, a portal waiting to transport him home. And her heart stutters at the idea. She finds him underneath her blankets, Cisco pulling it back for her, a grateful smile on her lips as she lays down, his arm pulling them over herself. And he drops it softly, hand lingering on her stomach, pressing against her, pulling her to him.

He nuzzles against her and she loves the feeling of his eyelashes brushing against the exposed skin of her neck, loves that there is no cold glass against her skin anymore, no straps that were rough and unpleasant. There was just Cisco. And there is a peace that settles in her, Caitlin sliding her hand over his, interlocking their fingers as he continues to stroke the bare skin of her stomach. “Please stay.” It was soft, whispered into the air. And his hand stops moving.

He hadn’t stayed the whole night before, always disappearing before she would awake, before she would even fall asleep. It used to scare him, the commitment. But he was already so committed to her, had been before he ever realised that it was possible, this arbitrary measure of commitment lost on him now. And staying the night didn’t seem so scary anymore. Not when he felt the fear of losing her.

“Of course,” he murmurs, Cisco’s eyes closing.

And they fall asleep holding each other.

(They would never want it any other way.)

She wakes up slowly, Caitlin stretching, a smile on her face as the sun shines through her open curtain. But she feels the weight pressing against her stomach, can feel the body pressed against her back.

And suddenly the day is brighter, her heart thundering insider her chest as the events of the previous night come flooding back. She turns in his hold, relishing in the feeling of their feet tangled together, in the warmth emitted from his body, Vibe - Cisco - mumbling in his sleep, his hand now on her back, pulling her closer to him. Her hands rest on his chest, the beating of his heart, the vibrations of his murmurs, she can feel them against her skin, can feel it travel through her. And she basks in his presence, not having the heart to wake him, instead taking the time to memorise everything about him. Her gaze flickers over his face, from his long lashes to his unruly locks, his hair in front of his face. The question stays in her mind, should she risk waking him? And she does, Caitlin brushing the hair away from his face, smiling as she could see him more clearly. And he was so open and exposed.

So beautiful.

He wakes up, sight bleary as he blinks, hand moving to rub his eyes. But then it skims over the naked back of a person and he panics, fear flaring in his eyes as he pulls away. But then he sees her, sees Caitlin lying on her chest, a warm smile directed at him and he relaxes, arm moving back around her body. The movement is quick, Cisco chuckling at her squeal of surprise, his arm pulling her against his chest, the man rolling onto his back, pulling her with him.

The laughter is contagious, Caitlin joining him. But it dies down and she rests her chin on his chest, eyes never leaving his face. “Good morning,” she sing songs, a blush spreading across her face as his hands slide over her body, the extent of her nudity underneath his fingertips. “Did you sleep well?”

He shifts, drawing himself further down the bed, pulling her up until they were face to face. “The best,” he murmurs against her lips before leaning upward, catching her lips in a kiss. She hums into his mouth. She can taste his morning breath and knows he could taste hers, but she doesn’t care in that moment, her hand sliding up, tilting his head as she deepens the kiss, swallowing his groan.

It is a breathless laugh, her smile shining brighter than the sun when they pull away, and he pecks her lips once more. And he doesn’t know why he had denied himself, denied both of them, this for so long, because it was a moment of perfection, a fairy tale ending that would never be written anywhere but instead etched onto his heart and seared in his mind. “What?” she says, averting her gaze.

But then his hand is on her chin, cupping the side of her face. And he marvels at how petite she was, how his hand spanned half her face, his fingers tangled in her hair. And she tilts her head, pressing a kiss on the inside of his wrist, eyes flickering to his at his sharp inhale. “You’re so gorgeous,” he whispers faintly, as though just watching her had taken all his energy and strength, that it deserved everything inside of him.

Her lips turn upward and she is left speechless. But then her stomach rumbles and she is reminded of the time. She slips out of the bed, much to his displeasure, Cisco making it very obvious where he thought she should be as he sits up in her bed. “I’ll make up breakfast,” she says, her naked frame walking around the room. It shuts his mouth up quickly, Cisco choosing to admire her, and he doesn’t stop, doesn’t think he ever will, when she picks up his shirt off the floor, slipping it over her head and disappearing out of her bedroom.

The grin on his face doesn’t disappear with her, lasting long after she had gone to prepare breakfast. He collapses against her pillows and wonders about how he got her in his life.

He stays over more often than not, Caitlin coming home to Cisco lounging on her couch, wearing the most dorkiest of shirts. It steals the breath from her lungs sometimes, her door opening to see him with his glasses on the crook of his nose.

She steals them all, his glasses and his shirts, Cisco chasing her around her apartment as she pulls the former off his face and slides them on her own, running with them, laughing until it hurts. He catches up to her, spinning her around in his arms as she giggles. He quiets her with a kiss hello, and it has her heart fluttering in her chest. Her hands finding his face, holding her to him as she deepens it. “Hi.” It is breathless, Caitlin looking through her lashes at him. She sniffs the air, a sweet smelling aroma floating to her nostril. “What are you cooking?”

He laughs. “Mama’s recipes.” She moans softly at his words. “I’m pretty sure you’re only with me for the food,” he jokes.

She winks at him, slipping out of his hold, waltzing to the kitchen. “I guarantee nothing.”

It is then he realises he loves her, that he’s in love with her, that he would be perfectly fine spending the rest of his life with her.

… He just isn’t sure when to tell her.

#killervibe #caitlin snow #cisco ramon #the flash #killervibe fic #ruthie writes #y'all i finished this fic months ago #legit all 30k was done back when the kv week was going on #... i just forgot to post the rest of it #oops #the flash fic #killer vibe

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