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#i wish i could make it right
apriljinxed · 2 years
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I loved you as imperfectly as I knew how.
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confessedlyfannish · 22 days
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Writing Prompt #12
Bruce is reading the paper when the pour of Tim's coffee goes abruptly quiet. It would be hard to pinpoint why this is disturbing if it wasn't for the way the soft, tinny sound the vent system in the manor makes cuts out for the first time since being updated in the 90s. The pour, Bruce realizes, has not slowed to a trickle before stopping. It has simply stopped. And there is no overeager clack of a the mug against the marble counter or the uncouth first slurp (nor muttered apology at Alfred's scolding look) immediately following the end of the pour.
Bruce fights the instinct to use all of his senses to investigate, and instead keeps his eyes on the byline of the article detailing the latest set of microearthquakes to hit the midwest in the last week. Microearthquakes aren't an unusual occurrence and aren't noticeable by human standards, which is why this article is regulated to page seven, but from several hundred a day worldwide to several hundred a day solely in the East North Central States, seismologists are baffled.
Bruce had been considering sending Superman to investigate under the guise of a Daily Planet article requested by Bruce Wayne (Wayne Industries does have an offshoot factory in the area) when everything had stopped twenty seconds ago. That is what he assumes has happened (having not moved a muscle to confirm) in the amount of time he assumes has passed. His million dollar Rolex does not quite audibly tick but in the absolute silence it should be heard, which confirms the silence to be exactly that—absolute.
While Bruce can hold his breath with the best of the Olympian swimmers, he has never accounted for a need to remain without blinking without being able to move one's eyes. Rotating the eyeballs will maintain lubrication such that one could go without blinking for up to ten minutes. But staring at the byline fixedly, he estimates another twenty seconds before tears start to form.
These are the thoughts Bruce distracts himself with, because he doesn't dare consider how Tim and Alfred haven't made a (living) sound in the past forty-five seconds. About Damian, packing his bag upstairs for school after a morning walk with Titus that was "just pushing it, Master Damian".
There is a knife to his right, if memory serves (it does). In the next five seconds—
"Your wards and guardian are fine, Mr. Wayne," the deepest voice Bruce has ever heard intones. For a dizzying moment, it is hard to pinpoint the location of the voice, for it comes from everywhere—like the chiming of a clocktower whilst inside the tower, so overpowering he is cocooned in its volume.
But it is not spoken loudly, just calmly, and when he puts the paper down, folds it, and looks to his right, a blue man sits in Dick's chair.
He wears a three piece suit made entirely of hues of violet, tie included. He has a black brooch in the shape of a cogwheel pinned to his chest pocket, a simple chain clipped to his lapel. Black leather gloves delicately thumb Bruce's watch (no longer on his wrist, somewhere between second 45 and 46 it has stopped being on his wrist), admiring it.
"You'll forgive me," the man says with surety. "Clocks are rather my thing, and this is an impressive piece." He turns it over and reveals the 'M. Brando' roughly scratched into the silver back. He frowns.
"What a shame," he says, placing it face side up on the table.
"Most would consider that the watch's most valuable characteristic." Bruce says, voice steady, hands neatly folded before him. Two inches from the knife. To his left, there is an open doorway to the kitchen. If he turns his head, he might be able to get a glance of Tim or Alfred.
He doesn't look away from the man.
"It is the arrogance of man," the man says, raising red eyes (sclera and all) to Bruce, "to think they can make their mark on time."
"...Is that supposed to be considered so literally?" Bruce asks, with a light smile he does not mean.
The man smiles lightly back, eyes crinkling at the corners. He looks to be in his mid thirties, clean-shaven. His skin is a dull blue, his hair a shock of white, and a jagged scar runs through one eye and curving down the side of his cheek, an even darker, rawer shade of blue-purple.
The man turns the watch back over and taps at the engraving. "Let me ask you this," he says. "When we deface a work of art, does it become part of the art? Does it add to its intrinsic meaning?"
Bruce forces his shoulders to shrug. "It's arbitrary," he says. "A teenager inscribes his name on the wall of an Ancient Egyptian temple and his parents are forced to publicly apologize. But runic inscriptions are found on the Hagia Sophia that equate to an errant Viking guard having inscribed 'Halfdan was here' and we consider it an artifact of a time in which the Byzantine Empire had established an alliance with the Norse and converted vikings to Christianity."
"The vikings were as errant as the teenager," the man says, "in my experience." He leans back in his chair. "I suppose you could say the difference is time. When time passes, we start to think of things as artistic, or historical. We find the beauty in even the rubble, or at least we find necessity in the destruction..."
He offers Bruce the watch. After a moment, Bruce takes it.
"The problem, Mr. Wayne, is that time does not pass for me. I see it all as it was, as it is, as it ever will be, at all times. There is no refuge from the horror or comfort in that one day..." he closes his hand, the leather squeaking. And then his face smooths out, the brief severity gone. He regards Bruce calmly.
"You can look left, Mr. Wayne."
Bruce looks left. Framed by the doorway, Tim looks like a photograph caught in time. A stream of coffee escapes the spout of the stainless steel pot he prefers over the Breville in the name of expediency, frozen as it makes its way to the thermos proclaiming BITCH I MIGHTWING. Tim regards his task with a face of mindless concentration, mouth slack, lashes in dark relief against his pale skin as he looks down at the mug. Behind him, Bruce can see Alfred's hand outstretched towards the refrigerator handle, equally and terrifyingly still.
"My name is Clockwork," the man says. "I have other names, ones you undoubtedly know, but this one will be bestowed upon me from the mouth of a child I cherish, and so I favor it above all else. I am the Keeper of Time."
"What do you want from me?" Bruce asks, shedding Wayne for Batman in the time it takes to meet Clockwork's eyes. The man acknowledges the change with a greeting nod.
"In a few days time, you will send Superman to the Midwest to investigate the unusual seismic activity. By then, it will be too late, the activity will be gone. They will have already muzzled him."
"Him."
"There is a boy with the power to rule the realm I come from. Your government has been watching him. The day he turned 18, they took him from his family and hid him away. I want you to retrieve him. I want you to do it today."
"Why me?"
"His parents do not have the resources you do, both as Batman and Bruce Wayne. You will dismantle the organization that is keen on keeping him imprisoned, and you will offer him a scholarship to the local University. You and yours will keep him safe within Gotham until he is able to take his place as my King."
This is a lot of information to take in, even for Bruce. The idea that there could be a boy powerful enough to rule over this (god, his mind whispers) entity and that somehow, he has slipped under all of their radars is as frustrating as it is overwhelming. But although Clockwork has seemed willing to converse, he doesn't know how many more questions he will get.
"You have the power to stop time," he decides on, "why don't you rescue him? Would he not be better suited with you and your people?"
"Within every monarchy, there is a court," Clockwork. "Mine will be unhappy with the choice I have made," he looks at Bruce's watch, head cocked. "In different worlds, they call you the Dark Knight. This will be your chance to serve before a True King."
Bruce bristles. "I bow to no one."
"You'll all serve him, one day," Clockwork says, patiently. "He is the ruler of realms where all souls go, new and old. When you finally take refuge, he will be your sanctuary." He frowns. "But your government rejects the idea of gods. All they know is he is other. Not human. Not meta. A weapon."
"A weapon you want me to bring to my city."
"I believe you call one of your weapons 'Clark', do you not?" Clockwork asks idly. "But you misunderstand me. They seek to weaponize him. He is not restrained for your safety, but for their gain."
"And if I don't take him?" Bruce asks, because a) Clockwork has implied he will be at the very least impeded, at worst destroyed over this, and b) he never did quite learn not to poke the bear. "You won't be around if I decide he's better off with the government."
"You will," Clockwork says, with the same certainty he's wielded this entire conversation. "Not because he is a child, though he is, nor because you are good, though you are, nor even because it is better power be close at hand than afar.
"I have told you my court will be unhappy with me. In truth, there are others who also defend the King. Together we will destroy the access to our world not long after this conversation. The court will be unable to touch him, but neither will we as we face the repercussions for our actions. I am telling you this, because in a timeline where I do not, you think I will be there to protect him. And so when he is in danger, even subconsciously, you choose to save him last, or not at all. And that is the wrong choice.
"So cement it in your head, Bruce Wayne," the man says, "You will go to him because I tell you to. And you will keep him safe until he is ready to return to us. He will find no safety net in me. So you will make the right choice, no matter the cost."
"Or, when our worlds connect again, and they will," his voice now echoes in triplicate with the voices of the many, the young, the old, Tim, Bruce's mother, Barry Allen, Bruce's own voice, "I will not be the only one who comes for you."
"Now," he says, producing a Wayne Industries branded BIC pen. "I will tell you the location the boy is being kept, and then I would like my medallion back, please. In that order."
Bruce glances down and sees a golden talisman, attached to a black ribbon that is draped haphazardly around the neck of his bathrobe, so light (too light, he still should have—) he has not felt its weight until this moment.
Bruce flips the paper over, takes the pen, and jots down the coordinates the being rattles off over the face of a senator. By his calculation, they do correspond with a location in the midwest.
"You will find him on B6. Take a left down the hallway and he will be in the third room down, the one with a reinforced steel door. Take Mr. Kent and Mr. Grayson with you, and when you leave take the staircase at the end of the hallway, not the elevator."
The man gets up, dusts off his impeccably clean pants, and offers him a hand to shake.
"We will not meet again for some time, Mr. Wayne."
Bruce looks at the creature, stands, and shakes his hand. It feels like nothing. The Keeper of Time sighs, although nothing has been said.
"Ask your question, Mr. Wayne."
"I have more than one."
"You do," Clockwork says. "But I have heard them all, and so they are one. Please ask, or I will not be inclined to answer it."
"What does this boy mean for the future, that you are willing to sacrifice yourself for him?"
There is a pause.
"So that is the one," Clockwork says, after a time. "Yes. I see. I should resolve this, I suppose."
"Resolve what?"
"It is not his future I mean to protect," the man says. "It is his present."
"You want to keep him safe now..." Bruce says, but he's not sure what the being is trying to say.
"I am not inclined," Clockwork repeats, stops. His expression turns solemn, red eyes widening. In their reflection, Bruce can see something. A rush of movement too quick to make heads or tails of, like playing fast forward on a videotape. "Superman reports no signs of unusual seismic activity. With nothing further to look into, you let it go in favor of other investigative pursuits. You do not find him, as you are not meant to. He stays there. His family, his friends, they cannot find him. His captors tell him they have moved on. He does not believe them, until he does. He stays there. He stays there until he is strong enough to save himself."
Clockwork speaks stiffly, rattling off the chain of events as if reading a Justice League debrief. "He is King. He will always be King. He is strong, and good, and compassionate, and he is great for my people because yours have betrayed his trust beyond repair. He throws himself into being the best to ever Be, because there is nothing Left for him otherwise. We love him. We love him. We love him. My King. Forevermore."
The red film in his eyes stall out, and Bruce is forced to look away from how bright the image is, barely making out a silhouette before they dull back to their regular red.
"I am not inclined," Clockwork says slowly, "To this future."
"Because of what it means in the present," Bruce finishes for him. "They're not just imprisoning him, are they."
"They will have already muzzled him."
Clockworks is right in front of him faster than he can process, fist gripping the medallion at his neck so tight he now feels the ribbon digging into his skin.
"Unlike you, Mr. Wayne," and for the first time, the god is angry, and the image of it will haunt Bruce for the rest of his life, "I do not believe in building a better future on the back of a broken child."
"Find him," the deity orders, and yanks the necklace so hard the ribbon rips—
Clack!
"sluuuuurp!"
"Master Timothy, honestly!"
"Sorry Alfred!"
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castielsprostate · 7 months
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REBLOG TO EXPLODE A TERF!!
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fiepige · 7 months
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Compilation of EVERY single time they changed Hobie's filter in the digital version:
Left: Theatrical release Right: Digital release
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You might have to click on some of them to get a better look at Hobie, sadly I don't have a video editor that allows me to make better edits than these :')
#This took so long to make lol#cause I had to edit every scene with Hobie from both versions so I could watch them right after one another to compare them#I did this with ALL the scenes he's in also the ones where he's on screen as spider-punk#but they only changed his filters in these scenes so it was a waste of time :')#sidenote: no it wasn't it's never a waste of time to look at hobie I just couldn't use it for my GIFset lol#I also made a bouns one but I'm not allowed to post more than 30 GIFs in one post apparently so I guess I just won't add it then...#but Hobie was basically filterless during all these scenes in the theatrical version#I like that they gave him more different filters in the digital version#the only change I don't like is in the first GIFs#cause like that one post pointed out it looks like they removed his lipstick for some reason#also really wish I had a better video editor so we could get a closer look at Hobie but I did my best with what I had#also slowed some of them down to get a better look at them#been having this idea for a while and now I finally finished it!#which means I can go back to working on my fics now#hopefully lol#also lemme know if there are some other scens you guys want me to make comparisons of#cause I have both versions#the theatrical release isn't the highest quality though so if you know where I can get my hands on a better version lemme know ;)#hobie brown#spider punk#miles morales#spider man#peter b parker#jess drew#miguel o'hara#spider man across the spider verse#across the spider verse#across the spiderverse#atsv#theatrical version
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heartorbit · 1 month
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happy valentines day... 2!
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baldursghaik · 1 month
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Reading the reaction to Larian's decision to fully step back from wotc/d&d/etc has been interesting
a lot of mourning of the loss of "content"
"we could have had years and years of content" "this is heart breaking to never see these characters again" etc etc
is that what you really want? content? is this what modern media production has come to, that people aren't sated with anything less than milking a property until it's a barren husk of anything it once was?
Why can't we be happy with what we have? I don't think it's unfair to be sad about this news, especially given that it felt like some things were being teased or hinted at, and now they most likely will not come to fruition (at least at larian's hands), but is that really so bad? If you're so dissatisfied with a character's ending or arc, write a fanfiction, draw fanart, boot up the game again and just imagine your way into what you DO want
is that not the fundamental nature of d&d?
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somewhat satisfied with this... pretty butterfly man...
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transmascissues · 6 months
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i typically don’t post “off topic” since this is a blog with a very specific focus, but i can’t just post on here business-as-usual as if i didn’t just spend a significant amount of my afternoon learning about and crying for the family of a palestinian girl who just learned that most of her loved ones are dead.
a common refrain on this blog has been “we are hurting, we are dying, please pay attention.” so i feel the need to stress now that if you’ve ever heard and listened to that sentiment coming from me about my community and the violence we’ve faced, i need you to hear it now and listen to it now when it comes a thousand times more desperately from the mouths of palestinians in the face of the atrocities that are taking their homes, communities, and lives away. i need to make it abundantly clear that if you see what i talk about here and agree and support it but you won’t extend that same solidarity to the palestinians who need it now, you’ve entirely missed the point.
i also want to stress that you cannot let yourself fall for the propaganda that tries to pit queer and trans people against palestinians. there are queer and trans palestinians and their lives are also being destroyed. they exist and they are part of this family and we need to show up for them and their families. so please keep in mind that every time someone says “if you were queer or trans in palestine you would be killed,” what you’re hearing is an attempt at distracting you from who’s actually killing the queer and trans people in palestine.
i’m one of many people who feel incredibly out of their depth thinking about all of this, and i know that even once i’m better educated, i’ll never stop feeling deeply unqualified to talk about it in depth. i get feeling like you don’t understand it, i get feeling like you can’t do anything about it.
but you don’t need to understand every nuance of the politics or know every bit of the history or feel like an expert in it to give a shit. you can and should(!!!!!!!) learn more and find ways that you can contribute, but in the meantime, the absolute least any of us can do is not look away from this. you don’t need to be an expert to see the tragedies unfolding in front of us and know that they are wrong.
i’ll never forget that girl’s family. i’ll never forget the beautiful babies in those pictures who never got to grow up, or the aunts and uncles and grandparents who were taken before their time. i never knew them, but i felt their loss and cried for them and i will never forget them. they and the countless others like them deserved so much better, and those who are still surviving deserve freedom.
so if you’ve ever fought for my community or any other community facing violence, i better fucking see you fighting for palestinians now.
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martisno · 1 year
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pb&j they mean the world to me
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apriljinxed · 2 years
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Flawed Memory
I’m trying not to
Remember the last time we touched
How your tongue savoured my body
& how it had me out to breath
In remembering,
I fear that I’ll corrupt the memory
Leaving it tattered and tainted in fingerprints
The clarity of your warmth worn away with repetition
The details becoming hazy and intangible
I don’t want to ever forget
The last time I felt
Cherished
& needed
By you.
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lovexpeacexdonuts · 1 year
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@taaamaaaooo1 on twitter
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fried-manto · 8 months
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🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉
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[ID: a digital drawing of Hunter and Willow from the owl house based on the "lesbians doing makeup" meme. Hunter is lying beneath Willow, who straddles him while doing his makeup. He looks at her somewhat dazed and she looks at him fondly. the background is a mid-tone blue. End ID]
This is what they are. To me
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necessarymeanstoanend · 2 months
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this was actually so fun to draw
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inspired by @ourownbelovedbohemians
here he is in the white void of doom because i actually prefer how it looks this way.
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personishfive · 1 year
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in which ann takamaki is there
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ywpd-translations · 2 months
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Ride 764: Dearest wish
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Pag 1
1: The one thing the third year Onoda Sakamichi desires is....?
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Pag 2
3: His dearest wish!!
4: Right!!
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Pag 3
1: That's definitely Onoda's dearest wish
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Pag 4
2: Do your beest
They're so fast!
They move the wind
The jerseys are so brightly colored
3: No no no no
4: That- that's not it
That's not-
Is Sohoku arguing over something!?
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Pag 5
1: That- that was just the spur of the moment
I ended up just saying anything
2: That's not my dearest wish at all....
So- uhm
3: Please forget about it, everyone!!
4: No way!!
Yeah
Teh!!
Yep
Yeah
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Pag 6
1: That must be our goal this year!! Our third victory in a row!!
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Pag 7
1: Yessir!!
On!!
Yeah!!
2: The three day long stage is harsh and long, that's why everyone's strengths will be necessary!!
Yessir!!
3: If we can all unite our strengths and support each other as one...
4: The I'll be able to win brilliantly!! Yeah!!
Just like I did during the prefectural qualification!!
Ohhhh
Tch
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Pag 8
1: I'll sprint desperately, Hotshot-san will accompany me, and I'll do a grand finishing dash, just like that day!!
Okay!! You've been saying it over and over again!!
2: You're really a guy who clings to the glory of the past
The prefectural qualification is connected to the Inter High, it's not in the past!!
You're the type of guy I hate the most when you get carried away
Naruko-san was amazing, teh!!
That day, yeah!!
Naruko-san!!
3: Sto-stop iit, you were both amazing that day
4: Come oon... we're in the middle of an important meeting
6: Now that I think about it
Onoda-san's....
7: This is all
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Pag 9
1: Can I say one last thing?
2: I also think our goal must be a third consecutive victory
3: There's just one thing I'm curious about we still haven't asked
Onoda-san
5: What's your goal this year?
What are you running in the Inter High for?
6: When I asked you this last year during the first years' race
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Pag 10
1: I want to report it
2: You said you wanted to report the victory to your senpai
3: And you
4: Accomplished that
5: Honestly, when I first heard that I thought “what is he talking about, that's such a small goal”
But that day, after the race, when I saw Onoda-san doing it
6: I was shaking
I thought from the bottom of my heart that it was amazing
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Pag 11
1: I thought you were super cool
5: Wh- no no
That- I was just reporting, there's nothing cool about it at all, okay
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Pag 12
1: So I want to know what your goal is this year
Please tell us what you're thinking about!!
2: Is it “I want to report to that senpai once again”!?
4: Crowning your third victory in a row as the captain!?
6: Is it the mountain's bib!? Is it winning a stage!?
Please tell us... your goal during the race...
7: or maybe for when the race is over!!
8: A.....
9: No no no
It's nothing- yes, it's nothing!!
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Pag 13
1: Onoda's goal....
2: I see, what Onoda-kun wants to do....
3: Now that I think about it....
4: What is it!? You started saying it now, “a”!!
Is it “running as an assist”!?
5: Does it mean you don't want to bear the last heavy burden!?
No no no no, that's fine, if the situation calls for it I'll do my best
6: That's enough, Issa
7: There are things Onoda-san doesn't want to say too
No, if it can become motivation for the team then he should say it
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Pag 14
1: Onoda-san's goal!!
2: But still, Issa!!
I'm telling you, anything is fine!!
Ah, uhm...
3: It's a really personal thing, so.... don't get your hopes up...
But.... that's... always been.... my dearest wish...
4: Dearest wish!!
5: If we run with all we have in this Inter High.... putting together all of our strengths and deliver our jersey to the finish line
6: If we get the best result....
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Pag 15
1: No no, I really can't say more than this
3: Say it, everything's fine. I'm curious too
4: Ah.... if we get the best results.... I....
5: I want to reserve a room somewhere...
6: A room?
8: Prepare teacakes
9: Cakes!?
10: Ask for everyone's cooperation...
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Pag 16
1: Gather five people
5: It's something I've been imagining.... since before... entering school in my first year.....
7: Even just for one day
8: Even just a few hours after school
Everyone will bring what they like
9: A.....
Oi.... don't tell me you mean.... you
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Pag 17
1: I'm thinking of reviving the anime research club!!
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Pag 18
5: No way!!
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Pag 19
1: And then, there
2: I think I could call Makishima-san, who likes figures
I feel like you've misunderstood something here
3: And Midosuji-kun who likes anime
Would you be able to hold a conversation with him!?
4: Isn't that good!! The best goal!!
5: You'll gather five people in no time!!
6: Kakaka mine will be the first name you write down
7: Amazing
From England and Kyoto....!!
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Pag 20
1: I don't really get it, but somehow that fired me up!!
2: That's Onoda-san's dearest wish!!
3: Ah
4: N-no, it's really nothing much, so I take it back...
Revive the anime club!!
Let's do it, for Onoda-san!!
I don't really know what an anime club does, but I'm in!!
Me too!!
5: Yeeah!!
Let's do it!!
Issa, calm down
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Pag 21
2: Your goal is to “revive the anime research club even for just day”?
Oi oi, that's such a small
3: but splendid goal!!
4: You managed to unite the club's intentions as one with such bizarre words!!
5: You're really are an unpredictable guy!!
The plate will soon become green
“Real start”.... the real race will start!!
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