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sevlgi · 3 years

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bubblegum pop

requested: no

group: twice

pairing: sana x fem!reader

genre: fluff

contents: rich girl!sana, college!au, cashier!reader.

warnings: none

synopsis: An unfortunately hostile encounter with the school’s sweetest rich girl might just lead to more than you ever expected.

a/n: inspired by @pearicot‘s mean girl rosie series! (by the way, i’m not trying to feed into the “dumb sana” stereotype with this; i just thought that her personality fitted the character i was trying to achieve! does anyone wanna request continuations or scenarios in this universe 👀

word count: 3.3k

Something about Mondays the week of finals always got you in a bad mood, especially when you had to work double shifts at the same stupid ice cream shop you’d worked at for the past 2 years of college.

So maybe, just maybe, there was reasoning behind you snapping at the love of your life during your first meeting.

Actually, there really, really wasn’t.

There were plenty of mean girls on campus who you wouldn’t regret yelling at whatsoever, but you just happened to blow up at one of the considerably nicer rich girls.

Minatozaki Sana didn’t mean anything bad when she innocently held out a hundred dollar bill to pay for a $5 ice cream. She didn’t mean to seem pretentious, nor did she mean to mock you and your minimum-wage job, but you just so happened to take it that way.

“Really? You have to rub it in my face like that?”

Sana stared at you, the money that she held out wavering in the ear. “Sorry?”

Pinching the space between your eyebrows, you huffed out an exasperated breath. Luckily, there was no one else in the shop about to witness the stupidest meltdown of your life. “You think I don’t know that I’m poor? It’s five dollars for God’s sake, no need to bring out the big guns. Oh, or are you doing this to avoid seeming more pretentious with your daddy’s black card?”

The brunette’s hand retreated quickly, the heels of her Louboutins clacking softly against the pastel-toned linoleum of the ice cream shop. Fuck, you hated that linoleum. “I... I didn’t mean any of that, I swear! Um, is there an ATM near here?”

Once again, the girl meant well, and you took it badly. You scoffed, glaring disbelievingly at her. Some part of you was screaming out that you were putting your entire job at stake, and your morals as well, but you disregarded any common sense remaining in your brain. “An ATM for 5 bucks? Dude, just don’t.” Dipping your hand into the tip jar, you scrounged out a lousy crumpled bill and threw it down on the counter, shoving the bubblegum-flavored sweet to Sana. “Okay? Now get out, I don’t want to see your privileged ass anywhere near here.”

The dense gray clouding your mind somehow missed the hurt expression on the girl’s face as the staff door swung open. Wendy’s hands, though gentle on your shoulders, shoved you behind her with surprising force. “I am so sorry, Sana, it’s finals week. Surely you can understand? The ice cream’s on the house.”

“No, of course it’s okay!” Sana sounded genuine enough, that was for sure; you caught her glancing worriedly at you a couple times, nothing malicious whatsoever in her eyes. “I can pay though, are you sure?”

“I’m sure. See you in class,” Wendy called out, smiling all the while until the girl disappeared into the Lamborghini parked by the curb. As soon as that happened, she turned back to you, concern tugging at the corner of her lips. “Y/N...”

“Yeah, I know,” you mumbled as you crossed your arms. Already, you were regretting what you said, though you were far too stubborn to actually apologize on the spot. “No arguing with customers about capitalism. Sorry, Wendy.”

The girl bit her lip, scanning the store to make sure that there wasn’t about to be an influx of customers. Usually she enjoyed working with you; you just had absolutely terrible mood swings sometimes, and those days were nothing short of hellish for her to deal with. “Just head home. Focus on your finals, and come back next week. Okay?”

You hesitated to agree, knowing that you needed the money, but the grim expression on Wendy’s face told you that you had no other option. “Okay. Sorry.”

As you snatched up your stuff and shoved the door to the street open, you missed the sight of Sana watching you through the tinted windows of her 6-figure car.

“Really? Sana?”

“I know,” you groaned, biting down on the plastic spoon in your mouth. The flavor of the month (the only one you could eat completely free) lingered unpleasantly on your tongue, the taste of it oddly salty. “She was so nice about it, too.”

Jeongyeon and Mina exchanged glances, not touching their respective cups of “Ocean Caramel” either. It was extremely kind of them to come and accompany you on the slow days, both of them even offering to suffer through the gross ice cream with you. “If it was Park Roseanne I might understand, but Sana,” Mina winced. Jeongyeon nodded in agreement; after all, everyone on campus knew about the reputations of Roseanne and Sana.

On one end of the “rich girl” spectrum, Roseanne was quite possibly the bitchiest one of all. She and her Bugatti Veyron, the college upgrade from her old McLaren, absolutely weren’t to be messed with. People who went to high school with you often told story of the G Wagon she smashed, the locker room she lit on fire, and so many other horror tales of a spoiled girl gone wild. You were sure that had you gone off on her, even Wendy wouldn’t have stopped you.

But on the other end, Sana was notoriously kind. Sure, her family raked in an income close to that of the other girl’s, and her wardrobe was just as expensive, but she made a point to donate to charities every time she went shopping. She tipped in the hundreds, and she didn’t ever ask for her designer clothes back when she lent them to strangers. She paid any dinner bill in full when she was there, and sometimes even when she wasn’t invited.

No one was entirely sure about the relationship between the two, but Roseanne seemed to hate Sana more than she did other people. The two fought publicly occasionally, but Sana’s kind heart made it so that even Roseanne couldn’t carry a fight very long. She didn’t respond to insults, it seemed, nor did she ever seem to actually take them personally.

Stirring her half-melted soup, Mina continued, “Hopefully she doesn’t hold it against you. She doesn’t seem like the type, but...”

Jeongyeon shook her head, opening her mouth just as the doorbell rang. You froze when you looked up to find a designer-dressed bombshell, a sweet smile outlined in Chanel Rouge Allure. She looked completely out of place amidst tired college kids spending their last paycheck on ice cream, white gauzy sleeves and blue dress shimmering under LED lights. If you were being honest, you’d say that she was the most beautiful person you’d seen in your life, but you were always well versed in lying to yourself. “Y/N, you better go.”

“Why?” you whined, pouting at your much more responsible friends. They ignored your puppy face, though; Jihyo was usually the only one you could sway, Momo sometimes if she was feeling merciful. “I’m on break.”

“Only when there’s no customers,” Mina argued, shoving you to stand. Jeongyeon smiled at you, waving you away. “Go, and don’t screw it up this time.”

You forced a smile onto your face when you reached the counter, bowing and adjusting your name tag. “Hi, what can I help you with today?”

“Hi, Y/N!” Sana grinned, bowing back. The fact that she remembered your name only made your guilt worse; if she forgot who you were, you could at least pretend that she didn’t remember the incident at all. “Ah, could I have the same thing as last time? Bubblegum Pop ice cream, on a sugar cone today. 3 scoops?”

Nodding, you moved to open the case, avoiding the girl’s gaze as you did. “Of course.” She was quiet at that, staring at the ceiling so as not to rush you. Without prompting, you blurted, “I’m... I’m really sorry about last week, by the way. I don’t know what I was thinking, blowing up at you like that.”

“Oh, no, it’s okay!” she protested, waving a manicured hand in the air. “I promise I understand you. We all have our bad days.”

You wanted to apologize again, if just to assuage your guilt, but you held off on it, joking, “How do you deal with them? Yell at Gucci assistants?”

Sana looked honestly offended as she accepted the cone proffered to her, eyes widening in shock. “I’ve never done that, I swear! Besides, I don’t like Gucci much.”

A light smile quirking at the corners of your lips, you handed the receipt to her as well. She didn’t ask for it, probably not caring about the measly price or having the space for it in her tiny bag, but took it anyway. “I’m sure you don’t. Your total is $5.23, will that be cash or card?”

“Cash!” She held out a 10 dollar bill, pride shining behind that gorgeous face as you raised your eyebrows in surprise. When your hands brush together, you were reminded of how much better she was than you, how you probably weren’t worthy at all to be touching her with your shop-issued baseball cap and grimy apron. But Sana doesn’t seem to mind, still smiling that airy smile at you and not moving away. She broke your stare by offering, “I don’t want to sound rude, but keep the change.”

“Not rude at all,” you fully laughed that time, dishing out the remainder to stuff in your tip jar. You still felt terrible that she felt the need to apologize about such a normal comment, asking, “Are you sure it’s okay? You can have this one free too, if it makes up for me shouting at you...”

Sana shook her head, sugary light pink already mixing into her lipstick. She walked away, still waving with that gorgeous smile on her face. “It’s okay. I’ll see you soon, Y/N, you look really pretty today!”

Turning back to your friends, you whispered, “Damn. She’s really nice.”

You planned on spending your one day off from school and work cozied up with a good book and your favorite hot drink, but you supposed that getting into a fight with Park Roseanne wasn’t the worst way to go either.

As soon as you entered campus, book in hand and blasting music in your earbuds, you found a crowd of at least 3 dozen people right in front of the library building. It was unlike you to butt into others’ business, especially when it might lead to a ruined day, but Roseanne’s voice carried loud over the hushed whispers of everyone else. “--huh, Sana?”

It wasn’t any of your business, but for some reason, Roseanne’s tone when saying Sana’s name angered you immensely. Frowning, you shouldered your way through the crowd. The closer you got to the center, the more expensive the clothing that brushed against your own rough jean jacket was, cotton and leather becoming silk and velvet. You originally planned to just fit in with the other spectators, but with a shove at the small of your back, you were thrust into the center too.

To your shock, Sana’s eyes were red and shining with tears, the tip of her nose cherry-colored as well. Her head was almost bowed as she stared at her shoes, but she looked up to you when you almost bumped into her. You stuttered out, “H-hey. What’s going on?”

Instead of an explanation from the Japanese girl, though, your gaze was drawn to the blonde across the courtyard. “Didn’t you hear? Little Miss Perfect here got broken up with,” Roseanne scoffed, an infuriating smirk on her perfect face as she tilted her head at you. “By a future CEO, no less. I guess she isn’t a gold-digger, or maybe there’s some other reason that he didn’t want her anymore.”

Your hand shot out to protect Sana, a scowl making its way onto your own face. “Excuse me? From my standpoint, any future CEO is still way outta her league, so forgive me for doubting that he’s the one who didn’t want her. You’re the one dating someone who makes a tenth of what you do.”

Roseanne rolled her eyes, lips thinning. “Don’t talk about my girlfriend like that, Y/L/N, or you’ve got another thing coming. There aren’t many lesbians in this damn school.”

“You know me, don’t you?” Sana’s voice was wavering as she spoke, but it was strong enough to echo in the courtyard. To your surprise (and somewhat satisfaction), the blonde girl’s eyes widened as Sana stood forward, her lips jutting forward. “That’s why I’m not dating him anymore. I like girls, too.”

Somehow, you’d never expected that Sana was attracted to girls, but it made perfect sense. An irrational part of you wanted to cheer, but instead, you forced yourself to speak.

“R-right.” You continued to glare at Roseanne, who finally seemed to be speechless. “Yeah, so how come you’re tearing Sana down? We should be supporting each other, but you’re being so rude to someone so kind, and that says all I need to know about you.”

Reaching out, you latched onto Sana’s upper arm and pulled her out of the circle, people parting to let the two of you through as Roseanne wasn’t able to conjure up something to respond with. You didn’t stop walking until there was only silence surrounding you under the shade of a swaying tree, finally stopping to let the girl sit. “Are you okay?” you asked, brow furrowed as you knelt to be mostly face-level with her.

Somehow, there was a smile on her face; a slightly snotty smile, but nonetheless the most beautiful one you’d ever seen in your life. You ignored the uncomfortable leap of your heart when you reached out to take her hands into your own, somehow forgetting about the hostility you’d felt towards her from the beginning. “You- you stood up for me.”

“Yeah. I did, I guess,” you shrugged, smiling slightly. “I’m sure that was rough, though, to come out. How’re you feeling?”

“Honestly, much better,” Sana sighed. She leaned back, fingers curling slightly around yours as the afternoon sun shone golden brown in the locks of hair spread out on her shoulders. “It was good to get it off my chest. I didn’t even know you were into girls, you know.”

Reaching up to scratch your head, you chuckled, “Well, I am, if it makes you feel any better. What happened between the two of you, by the way? She seems to hate you so much.”

The girl laughed, as bubbly and airy as her regular voice. “I may or may not have dated her girlfriend before. But it was a long time ago, and I’m still friends with her! Roseanne just can’t forgive me.”

You feigned shock, swatting at her arm. “How terrible of you! I’m so disappointed.”

You were stuck simply smiling at each other for a good minute or so before you looked away, picking at your shoelace for something to do. “So. Uh, Roseanne knew the whole time?”

“She did,” Sana confirmed, nodding. “She just never talked about it.”

“Well, it’s good to know that she isn’t the only other one in the school with me,” you sighed, sitting back on your heels.

Sana lurched back forward, hands clasping together at her chest. “Then we should celebrate! We can go shopping or something, and we can just be happy that we aren’t alone anymore.”

It suddenly struck you how quickly you could change the girl’s entire outlook, a smile coming onto her face with no effort from you whatsoever. But even more surprising, you smiled even larger than she did just looking at her.

Laughing, you sat back on your heels and shook your head lightly. Seeming to take it as a rejection, Sana’s eyes widened. “Oh, only if you want to, of course! We can go wherever you want, we don’t even have to go shopping if you don’t want to!”

“No, we can go shopping,” you answered, reaching back over to squeeze her hand and pulling her up with you when you stood. “Come on, then. Let’s go celebrate.”

Sana wasn’t a great driver, but you didn’t expect much else. You were practically sick to your stomach by the time that you reached the mall, face green as you swayed out of the car.

“Ah, Y/N, I’m sorry!” Her hands rubbed lightly at your back as you squatted in the parking lot, fist held tight to your mouth. It wasn’t like you were actually going to throw up, but you didn’t want to risk ruining the girl’s expensive shoes. “I’ll let you drive next time.”

Next time? you wanted to ask. But you managed to stand, nodding quickly to ease Sana’s worry. “Yeah. It’s fine, I’m fine. Should we go?”

Immediately, she latched onto your hand, swinging between the two of you as she started to rush forward. “H-hey, lock your car first!”

Sana had unsurprisingly expensive tastes, but also surprisingly understated ones. She was fun to shop with, that was for sure- she loved to offer you clothes and also to offer to pay for them, but you didn’t necessarily hate a pretty girl telling you you’d look gorgeous in a certain sparkly dress.

She didn’t do any of the typical stuck-up things you expected her to- Sana carried her own bags, and she never forced you to follow her instead of doing what you wanted to. She did like to try on outfits and show them to you, but that could be ignored when it was just another opportunity for you to stare at her.

Eventually, you ended up having ice cream at one of the stores in the mall. You balked at the price, but Sana swiped her credit card without hesitation. “I have to admit, this bubblegum doesn’t taste as good as yours,” she pouted.

Chuckling, you savored the rich flavor on your own tongue. “You should’ve picked an expensive flavor then. Vanilla and chocolate are always good in these kinds of stores.”

“You know a lot about ‘these kinds of stores’ for someone who claims to be poor,” she teased, eyes widening as soon as the words slipped out of her mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean-”

“Nah, it’s fine,” you smiled, leaning on your palm. “I’m good with it, since we’re friends now.”

Sana grinned at that, her eyes curving charmingly. “We’re friends? Most people don’t want to be friends with me, I’m really glad you’re willing to.”

“Why wouldn’t they?”

Looking down for once, the girl mumbled, “They say I’m dumb. You know that everyone says I’m nice, but they also think I’m dumb because I pay for everything. I just want to be kind, but no one takes me seriously.”

A wave of guilt rushed over you for previously feeding into the stereotype. The more time you spent with Sana, the more you realized that she was as brilliant as any other, and far more kind. “Well, that’s stupid. You are kind, Sana, and you’re amazing. I’m lucky to be your friend.”

She clasped your hand over the table, soft skin warm over yours, pink flushing in her pale cheeks. “Thank you, Y/N. You know, this is the best time I’ve had in a while. My boyfriend didn’t even listen to me this well,” she laughed.

Despite the fact that she treated it as a joke, you felt horrible. She was all too used to thinking the worst about herself and not believing that she was worth any better, and that was the worst possible thing you could imagine for a girl with a heart of gold. Jabbing your spoon into the remaining ice cream, you blurted, “Then go on a date with me. A proper one, not just a normal hangout like this.”

Sana instantly blushed, looking down as if it’d hide her face at all. But she missed the heat that rose to your cheeks too, the nervous biting of your lip as you waited for a response. “I would love nothing more,” she smiled, her eyes shining brilliantly. “And I can’t wait.”

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aristidetwain · 3 years

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The Shared Dalek Universe of the 1960s: A Case Study

In 2011 (a little over ten years ago!), El Sandifer cited my dearly-beloved 1960s Who Annuals as examples of stories which ended up influencing the TV series many years down the line despite making an unrepentant hash of continuity.

Her first example is that the Doctor is called Dr. Who, and that he alternates between being from Earth on one page, and not being from Earth three pages later. I would point out that TV was doing much the same thing in those days, and went on flip-flopping basically until Jon Pertwee, so it’s not a terribly good argument to begin with.

However, she spends more time pondering the Daleks of the comics. These Daleks, she notes, are very different from those on television at the time. There are hordes of them, they travel in fleets of saucers, and they’re ruled by the Emperor. This contradiction, she argues, later fed back into the TV series in the RTD era, when huge fleets of Daleks became the norm and, earlier but still well after the first burst of Annuals, in the form of Patrick Troughton facing a very different Dalek Emperor in The Evil of the Daleks.

In no way do I wish to undermine Sandifer’s ultimate conclusion that “canon” in the sense of diegetic consistency is a red herring of little importance, and what matters for any sane definition of ‘canon’ is whether a story is referenced at all, not whether it’s contradicted.

However.

Having gone back to 1966′s The Dalek Outer Space Book, I have made a very startling discovery, in the story entitled The Secret of the Emperor. The rest is after the cut; I will leave you with a delightful panel from this story, showing the “bewildered” Dalek Emperor being bullied by knights at the Battle of Agincourt. (This is one of my favourite Doctor Who images ever, and if it doesn’t put a smile on your face I am not sure I want to take you seriously.)

So, famously, when he debuted in the comics, the Dalek Emperor was not the giant, static Dalek later shown on television in The Evil of the Daleks and The Bad Wolf of the Ways; instead, he was golden, squat, and had a bulbous head; to house all the ego, one expects.

Thus, most people will point at the fact that when the Doctor met “the Emperor” in The Evil of the Daleks, he resided in a huge tower-like casing in the Dalek City, as evidence that although ideas received a first treatment in the comics which later made it to screens, no direct continuity was intended; the comics’ Emperor was an alternate, a first draft, to be discarded once a more definitive TV portrayal emerged.

And yet, of course, it is somehow appealing to think of the two as the same Dalek, isn’t it? John Peel (Dalek writer voted most likely to be a 19th century Victorian man who stumbled into a time eddy; it’s mostly the remarkable sideburns) spent a lot of time in his Dalek novels establishing the life story of the Dalek Prime, the First Dalek Ever, who transitioned from the globe-headed casing to the towery Evil one and then deeply regretted it, what with the “getting killed by his own infighting troops with no way to escape”.

But this is usually viewed as a retcon. A cute retcon, an admirable retcon even, but a retcon. My good friend and esteemed fellow canon-welder, @rassilon-imprimatur, espoused such a view four years ago:

Well, all of this is, if you’ll pardon my French, bollocks. John Peel didn’t make anything up, except for the snappy name of “the Dalek Prime” as a designation for the individual. The Dalek Emperor in Evil of the Daleks was always the Emperor of the 1960s comics, and there is a very good reason for his seemingly-contradictory change of appearance. What’s more, I am not talking about murky authorial intent: these are things that the discerning Dalek fan in 1967 was meant to have known.

Let me wind back the clock to 1966. A Dalek master-plan is unfurling, a multi-media agenda spanning several years, more ambitious perhaps than even Time Lord Victorious in its scope; for the ultimate aim of a small cabal of men including David Whitaker, Terry Nation and Brad Ashton is nothing less than spinning the Daleks out of Doctor Who and into their own non-BBC TV show — to be made in America, and in colour, if you please!

For over a year now, a Dalek story arc has been running in the pages of TV Century 21, tracking the early rise of the Dalek Empire and its early interactions with 2060s humanity. Though the Daleks encroach over other parts of the book, including the headline stories, the bulk of this story arc comes in the form of weekly one-page comics making up one long serialised history of the Daleks, under the minimalist title of The Daleks.

Also under the solo brand of “The Daleks”: Annuals, an exclusive audio story, and, of course, toys. Time for Phase Two. It is time to end the Daleks’ endless confrontations with Dr Who on television, and set the stage for a new status quo able to support the TV series Nation dreams about.

Important background: Terry Nation, famously, does not like the Dalek Emperor. Whitaker made him up without consulting Nation, who maintains that the highest rank in the Dalek hierarchy should be the Dalek Supreme. The Emperor was hard to do away with in the comics, since he was basically the protagonist of the TV21 strip, but one imagines Nation was keen to jettison him from the world of the planned TV series.

I am speculating, of course, but I picture Nation sitting in his office, pondering the two great thorns in the side of the Independant Daleks Masterplan.

Thorn one: the Daleks are entangled with the Doctor both diegetically and symbolically; unless something can be done, the Daleks will remain “the Doctor’s enemies”, and a show where they commit evil and the Doctor fails to show up would ring false with the kids watching. The Daleks must be removed from Doctor Who in a sensational and definitive manner, or the whole enterprise is a nonstarter.

Thorn two: I, Terry Nation, have foolishly allowed David Whitaker to shape the lore of the Daleks, and he has made this Dalek Emperor guy very central to early Dalek history, leading up to the 22nd century Dalek Invasion of Earth that most of the Doctor’s subsequent conflicts with the Daleks have stemmed from. But I do not like the Dalek Emperor. I wish I could get rid of him in my new status quo.

…………Aha.

A triumphant Terry Nation adds a post-it note to the ever-widening corkboard representing the multimedia Dalek Masterplan setting up the TV series, which must already include things like “convince Jean Marsh to come back as Sara Kingdom”. Notes distilled from this corkboard will form the backbone of The Dalek Outer Space Book, this year’s Dalek annual, which exists principally to set up the prospective main characters of the new TV series: Sara Kingdom and Agent Mark Seven, of the Space Security Service.

The new post-it note reads:

Construe the Daleks’ enmity with the Doctor as a personal enmity between the Doctor and the Emperor, a la Sherlock Holmes and Moriarty. Have the Doctor triumph over the Emperor on TV in a big ‘event’ story.

Result: the Doctor-vs-Daleks storyline is over; the Emperor is dead; I get everything I ever wanted.

(Except maybe a pony.)

Then he phones David Whitaker, smirking all the while like an evil genie preparing to grant a badly-worded wish.

“Good news, old chap, I’ve decided you can write a new Dalek story for the BBC, all by yourself. I promise I won’t interfere.”

*confused and delighted David Whitaker noises*

“ And you can even bring in that Dalek Emperor of yours. Yes, you heard me!”

*Whitaker enthusiasm intensifies*

“Ahhh, but there’s a catch. The Dalek Emperor must DIE.”

Of course, like all good Faustian bargains, this is irresistible even though it is ruinous and the victim knows it to be ruinous. Whitaker agrees to the scheme. He and Nation begin planning out the events of the great finale of the Dalek-Doctor confrontation, which will hit the screens in 1967 as the mildly racist, but otherwise quite well-loved, ‘The Evil of the Daleks’.

Quickly enough, it is decided that Patrick Troughton crouching to berate the short and bubble-headed Golden Emperor would look silly. If the Emperor appears on TV, alongside human performers, then it should tower over them. Besides, this is to be the archvillainous Dalek Emperor’s last stand, and certain traditions must be followed.

Hence another task is added to the bucketlist of the Dalek Outer Space Book: tell the story of how the Emperor transformed from the globe-headed dwarf to some huge and terrible towering form under the Dalek City, for the Doctor to stumble onto later. This rebuilt Emperor may be teased, but must not be truly seen or truly defeated in the book; that would defeat the whole idea.

Hence, The Secret of the Emperor, a story which sees the Emperor becoming self-conscious about his own efficiency and letting the Scientist Daleks rebuild his casing from scratch. The final page is a splash panel, a delightfully nonsensical diagram of the mechanical components of the new casing.

The almost surreal array of colours and shapes is so arresting as to obscure an important detai. Many have seen this page over and over, and yet still missed it. The recent(ish) ‘Anatomy of the New Dalek Emperor’ artwork from Time Lord Victorious clearly looked at this page for reference, in spite of the fact that the TLV Emperor is much more inspired by the old Emperor than the rebuilt one.

Let me spell it out for you: look at the Scientist Daleks in the top right and centre-left. Look at them.

The new Emperor is huge.

And what else?

That Scientist on the left is plugging huge wires snaking from the wall into the tower-casing.

He now resides in the Great Hall of the Dalek City.

The background wall is a weird checkered pattern.

In addition, the following facts are seeded throughout the earlier pages of The Secret of the Emperor.

The point of moving to the new casing was to grant the Emperor increased brain capacity (suitable for concocting masterplans).

He acquired said increased brain capacity to help the Daleks attempt to overcome humanity once and for all.

The Emperor has recently had a trautmatic but eye-opening experience with time travel.

Ignore the fact that the Emperor was here depicted with what appears to be a still fairly bulbous, and golden, head, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that this is very, very direct setup for how the Doctor finds the Dalek Emperor in The Evil of the Daleks — tower-like, in an imperial throneroom in the Dalek City, with a checkered wall pattern, planning out a complicated scheme to harness time travel as a means of defeating humanity once and for all!

Yes, the designs don’t quite match — but how could the artist behind the visuals of Secret of the Emperor have known precisely what Shawcraft would build, a year later, based on the same basic description by Nation & Whitaker? The parallels far outweigh the minor differences in execution. (It’s worth noting that elsewhere in the Outer Space Book a different artist drew what was clearly intended to be the Golden Emperor as a large, golden, but normally-proportioned Dalek, so it’s not like the visual descriptions of these scripts were exceedingly precise…)

The rebuilt Emperor is never seen in the Outer Space Book outside of this ‘dissection’: he is heard throughout The Brain Tappers but kept carefully off-panel, and his new and dangerous new casing is pointedly not destroyed in the story’s conclusion. Well, of course not. That’s what Dr Who is for.

tl;dr: it is not a post hoc retcon, or even a secret, that the round-headed Emperor of the comics became the Dalek Emperor of Evil of the Daleks. A holistic view of the state of Dalek media in 1966-1967 shows that, in fact, it was the whole point that this be the Emperor of the comics; and that the comics had begun setting this up long before Patrick Troughton encountered Edward Waterfield on TV.

And thus, to circle back to Sandifer’s 2011 post, it is not enough to simply say that the “seemingly non-canon” comics inspired the show down the line. In fact in this instance, what appeared on Doctor Who existed for the benefit of the Daleks spin-off — not vice-versa!

#Daleks #Canon-Welding #Doctor Who #Analysis #Doctor Who Meta #Dalek Emperor #Dalek Prime #The Evil of the Daleks #Terry Nation #David Whitaker #Brad Ashton #The Secret of the Emperor #El Sandifer #Canon #Jacob Black

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maybedefinitely404 · 4 years

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Day 1: Logince

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 1: Your soulmate’s name is on your wrist.

Content: Flower/Tattoo Shop AU, background character death (unspecified cause, none of the sides), that’s pretty much it, it’s just soft Logince.

Word count: 2.7k

A small ding from the store entrance pulled Roman out of his thoughts, and he groaned softly. It was nearing the end of his shift, almost closing time, and another customer at this time would probably mean he was staying after hours again. All he wanted to do was go home and watch cheap reality TV in his sweatpants while shoveling handfuls of hot cheetos into his mouth. So sue him, it had been a long day. But nooo. Someone else had just walked in, probably someone with a very specific style that was out of season and they would argue for half an hour, no matter how many times he explained that tulips aren’t blooming right now, Vanessa!

Sure, usually his customers were great. Nervous first anniversaries, eccentric brides, all that romance stuff. He loved it. And they were usually all too willing to give him a budget and a color scheme and let him go wild, which was the best part about his job. He was good at it, too. His boss had seen his eye for style and almost immediately gave him solo shifts, which meant decently good pay and hours alone to belt out songs amongst the flowers and daydream to his heart’s content. It was a small enough business that the only mandatory part of his outfit was a green apron, so he could wear whatever he wanted, and he didn’t need a pesky nametag. Those had always weirded him out just a bit. So yeah, he loved his job, but right now, he knew himself too well. He had awful luck.

With a forced customer service grin, he poked out of the backroom and began his usual spiel of, “Thanks for coming to The Rainbow Bouquet, what can I get started…”

His words died in his throat at the mere sight of the man before him. Never had he been so equally attracted and frightened at the same time.

He was tall, probably just taller than him, but he held himself in a way that made Roman feel miniscule. Both arms were covered in tattoo sleeves, the left one a flurried mix of black and white and color, beautiful strips of pink and blue galaxies blending with grayscale skulls and clocks. The other had more order; shadows of a forest growing from around his wrist, shimmering mist curling up over his bicep and ending with a full moon stamped on his shoulder like a crest. A corner of something peaked up around the collar of his torn vest, and if Roman had to guess, there were most likely plenty more tattoos that were covered by his ripped black jeans and blue Nasa shirt. Not that his mind was going there at all, no siree.

Once Roman’s brain had screeched to a halt back in his body, he spoke again.

“What can I get started for you today?”

The man swallowed with difficulty, taking in the rows and rows of flowers surrounding him. He definitely didn’t look in his element.

“I need an arrangement for my mother. She’s in the hospital.”

Ah, the part of the job that Roman didn’t enjoy. Probably half the orders that came in were for sick people or funerals, and those were always a lot harder to arrange. It was always hard to find joy in creating for something so dismal.

“I’m sorry to hear. Did you have anything specific in mind? Does she have a favorite flower?”

“Daisies. She likes Daisies,” He murmured, still admiring the space around him. Roman couldn’t help but smile at the man’s expression. It was just a little awe inspired, a little bit of childish wonder, under that rough exterior. It was a gorgeous shop, that’s one of the reasons Roman had started working there.

“That’s good, it makes it a little easier for me to design something when I have that to go off of. Do you have a budget, or…”

He shook his head weakly, finally turning to look at Roman. “Price isn’t an issue. This is one of the last things I’m going to be able to give her.”

“Oh,” Roman whispered, slowly putting down the pen he’d been writing with, “I’m so sorry.”

“It can’t be changed. There’s no point in losing sleep over it.”

“Just because it’s going to happen doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck. You’re allowed to be sad about it.”

The man narrowed his eyes, giving Roman a once over before lifting his chin slightly. “I don’t need advice from a stranger.”

“Of course you don’t,” Roman quickly corrected, remembering he was still at work, “My apologies. When did you want to pick it up?”

“I’m visiting her tomorrow at noon. Could it be ready by then?”

“You bet. Can I have a name for the pick up?”

“Logan.” Roman’s pen skittered over his notepad, almost falling through his fingers.

Having a common name on your wrist was a curse in and of itself. And poor him, the hopeless romantic that he was, had met countless “Logan’s” in his day, and consequently fallen for most of them at first introduction, only to figure out quickly that they weren’t destined for a “Roman”. As inconspicuously as possible, he tried to glance down at Logan’s wrist, only finding a mass of swirling tattoos covering his skin. Dammit. There were some people born without soulmates, or had their soulmark fade to nothingness when their person passed away, and he tried not to think too terribly hard on which one Logan was. He tampered his rush of excitement as quickly as it had arisen and turned back to his notes, ignoring Logan’s raised eyebrow at his sudden stop.

Roman scribbled down the name and phone number as it was given, setting down the notepad with a customer service smile. The man spent no time dawdling, immediately starting towards the door, only to hesitate before walking out.

“Her favorite color is yellow.”

Roman nodded, the fake smile slowly morphing into an authentic one. “I can work with that.”

It was now a week after Logan had picked up the bouquet, a somewhat awkward interaction filled with small compliments towards the arrangement and Roman nearly dropping the flowers as their fingers touched while passing it over. As he was ringing up the total, he’d been able to uphold a brief conversation where Logan revealed he was a tattoo artist (no shock, considering he showed more inked skin than plain), and Roman showed off his rose tattoo on his upper arm. It would have been fine if the conversation ended there, but no, Logan had to reach up tentatively to brush his finger along the edge of the piece, commenting off handedly about how the color had started to fade.

“How long ago did you get this done?”

“Probably ten years, give or take.”

“You’re what, mid twenties? There’s no way you were legal ten years ago.”

“Who said I was?” It was said with a small wink that made Logan pull his hand away, an action that immediately dampened Roman’s mood.

“If you ever want it touched up, come by the shop. It’s just down the road.”

Roman had promised to consider, pulling the collar of his long sleeve shirt back up over the rose and bidding the man a good visit to his mother. Even now, a full week later, he couldn’t help his thoughts that were so centered around the tattoo artist. So maybe that was why Logan walked back into the shop the following Wednesday. I simped so hard I summoned him, Roman thought weakly as the gorgeous man strode straight up to the counter, leaning on it like he owned it.

“I have a question.”

“What’s your question?

“A client asked me yesterday to design a tattoo for her. A bouquet, seen from the top, and all she specified was it should feature hydrangeas, and she asked me to, quote, ‘go nuts’.”

“This isn’t sounding like a question so far.”

Logan sighed apprehensively, adjusting his glasses, “I was hoping you could give me some ideas on how to start. All the tips I found online contradicted each other in some way or another, and the arrangement you created for my mother was so well done…”

He trailed off, giving Roman a look that clearly said I need your help but don’t make me ask for it. Chuckling slightly, he leaned onto the counter as well, his face inches away from Logan’s. For the first time, he could see the small piercing on the man’s tongue as he sighed again. God, that’s hot.

“I’ll help you. On one condition.”

“Being?”

“Help me design my next tattoo.” In full honesty, he hadn’t even considered a second tattoo until that second.

“Deal.” There was no hesitation in his answer, and he took Roman’s offered hand, barely shaking it in the small space between them.

“Alright!” Roman pulled back, satisfied but disappointed as their hands separated, “Let’s talk flowers!”

And talk they did. For hours, in fact. It started with Logan’s tattoo dilemma, and Roman’s skillful eye and creative mind solved that problem in a flash, crudely drawing out a bouquet idea that fit all the criteria. The tattoo artist took it from there, using the notepad paper and Roman’s sketch, along with a quick round of the shop to see what the recommended flowers, fillers, and greens would all look like, and drew out a detailed piece that put Roman’s own art talent to shame. After explaining that his shift was done at the parlor and he had the rest of the afternoon free, Roman invited Logan to stay for a while longer, seeing as his day had dragged on customer-less so far, and he was bored. Plus, now was as good a time as any to pay back the favor. Two mugs of breakroom coffee later, the two were huddled around the counter, Roman describing his ideas and Logan sketching them like there was no tomorrow. Maybe half way through the brainstorm, the conversation switched to Logan’s mother (which he talked about hesitantly), then to Roman’s family, slowly changing to the absurdity of satin couch cushions, then to their favorite foods, and finally ending with a loud debate on whether pineapple deserved to be on pizza.

“It’s a fruit, Logan! Why the hell would you put fruit on a pizza?!”

“All I’m saying is that the sweet flavor of the pineapple balances out the tanginess of the marinara sauce, and adds more to the plain crust!”

“That doesn’t make it right!”

Logan had to go soon after that, wanting to visit his mom before visiting hours ended. He left with a begrudging smile on his face and a promise to come back another day, drawing an ear to ear grin from Roman. He’s just a friend, he reprimanded himself sternly, all the while sliding the drawing of his next possible tattoo into his phone case with startling reverence. No use getting attached to some who wasn’t his soulmate.

Yet, he still couldn’t help but feel saddened as a week passed again, then two, then a month. His job had returned to it’s boring normalcy, with only the flowers and no cute boy to keep him company. Even when he sat at his little desk next to the counter, hands working effortlessly to string together order after order, he couldn’t help the occasional glance at the door. The hope that his prince charming would waltz back in, piercings and ripped clothing galore, never faded.

A month and a half later, the little chime above the door dinged, and Roman glanced up from his handful of Baby’s Breath (seriously people, there are other fillers). Immediately a huge smile pulled at his lips and he dropped the half finished bouquet onto his table.

“Logan! What took you so… long…” His expression morphed into one of worry as he took in the other’s appearance. Gone was the usual grunge attire he was so prone to wearing, replaced with a black hoodie and beaten up Vans. His eyes no longer held that dangerous glimmer that had intimidated Roman so much when they first met. He just looked… small. Logan had never looked small before.

“My mom died last month,” He whispered.

Roman was over the desk in a second, pulling the man into his arms before he could protest. It took Logan a second, a long, awkward, stiff second, before he let his arms wrap around his waist, allowing his forehead to rest on the florist’s shoulder.

“I thought I’d be okay when she died… it was inevitable. It was her time… so why does it still hurt so bad?” The desperate whisper shattered Roman’s heart.

“You’re allowed to feel sad, Logan.” He felt him merely shake his head in response, but he said nothing to push the topic further.

Logan didn’t cry as they stood there, though he clung to Roman almost desperately. If he had to guess, the poor man was probably already cried out. He looked exhausted, and his unusually slumped posture only weakened more when Roman tightened his arms ever so slightly.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner. You were probably waiting.”

“Hey, no apologizing.”

“I just… didn’t want you to see me like this.”

“So what changed your mind?”

Logan shrugged, still not pulling away, “I couldn’t seem to snap myself out of it. And I needed someone who wouldn’t laugh at me. If our few interactions were anything to go by, you were that person.”

Roman decided to ignore the blatant implication that Logan didn’t have anyone except a practical stranger to go to. They could talk about that later, if he decided to stay for a while. Roman really hoped he did.

When the tattoo artist finally pulled out of the hug, many minutes later, he pushed his sweater paws under his glasses to scrub at his eyes. Maybe he hadn’t cried, but he sure was close to it.

“I’m sorry-”

“Stop apologizing.”

“I don’t even know your name, and I-”

“It’s okay, stop-” Roman reeled back slightly, eyebrows shooting into his hairline, “Oh… sweet Zac Efron. I never told you my name! Why didn’t you say anything?!”

“It felt too late to ask,” Logan smirked subtly despite himself, letting his hands fall back to his side.

“Oh, my sweet summer child.”

“I am none of those things.”

Roman sighed in soft exasperation, smiling at the barely perceivable glimmer in the other’s eyes. Ah, there it is. “My name’s Roman. I can’t believe I forgot to tell you.”

He was instantly concerned with the way Logan’s face fell into one of total shock. Shit, what did he do wrong? The fear was quickly replaced with understanding, however, as the artist’s hand drifted to his right wrist.

“What are the chances that your wrist says my name on it?” Logan said it like he was scared to be hopeful, like a happy ending was just not imaginable for him. Roman couldn’t comprehend all the emotions he felt at one time; elation, shock, fear. He answered in a choked voice, smiling all the while.

“One hundred percent.”

The both upturned their arms in near harmony, Roman pulling his gardening glove down to reveal the name. He squinted at Logan’s wrist, finally noticing the small writing that just barely stood out underneath a grayscale (anatomically correct) heart. No wonder he missed it before, it almost blended in with the outline.

And then Logan did cry, but so did Roman, so it was a little more okay. He seemed more confused than anything as Roman pulled him back in, holding him even tighter than before.

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.”

“I’m so unused to… well, feeling. I’m not usually like this, I believe I’m just sleep deprived and worn out from-”

“You never, ever need to be guilty for feeling, you absolute punk stereotype.” Roman pressed a long kiss to the other’s temple, letting him unwind in his arms. “We’ll work on that together. I promise.”

A muffled affirmative hum was all he got in response. He pressed another kiss to the top of Logan’s head as his crying slowed, breathing out heavily into the man’s hair. Together. That’s all that mattered.

Peep this gorgeous art piece for this fic

#lywrites #tsshipmonth2020 #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #logince #logan sanders #roman sanders #ts soulmate au

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thevindicativevordan · 3 years

Text

My Superfamily Set-Up

By and large I’m fairly happy with the upcoming Infinite Frontier status quo for the Superfamily. Granted that’s in part because I’m still convinced Kara will get an ongoing or mini in 2021, probably to coincide with her show returning, and PKJ hinted at plans for Steel on Twitter. But Kon has escaped the Titans dumpsterfire for a little while, and I’ve heard good things about Thompson as a writer as well. Kenan is popping back up in a one shot written by Yang that will hopefully herald more appearances in Batman/Superman. Jon is still co-protagonist with Clark in the main books, Tanya is in the Future State Shazam book and also a candidate for the FS Justice League book, so hopefully she’ll be in Titans Academy, and Lois is poised to be a big player in the upcoming Checkmate mini by Bendis. So fingers crossed, all the core members of the Superfamily will be in stuff come end of 2021.

Now that said, were DC to suddenly realize that I alone can save Superman, and asked me what kind of status quo I would like (whether for a mainline or Elseworld book makes no difference to me), this is the basic set up that I would go with:

Superman - I’d do a traditional status quo. Superman is disguised as Clark Kent, mild mannered reporter, married to Lois Lane, etc. I’d have Ma and Pa go back to being dead since I still am not a fan of them being alive. Note that this isn’t a reaction against Bendis, I loved Bendis’ run, but I do want to play with the traditional status quo a little bit before diving into something different. Especially since so many Superman writers have traditionally completely wasted the potential of Superman’s status quo.

Lois Lane - Similar to Superman I’d go with a more traditional status quo at the start. She works at the Daily Planet, she and Clark are married, she’s the best reporter in town, etc. I would eventually have her take over as editor-in-chief of the Daily Planet from Perry, I thought that was a great idea the New 52 wasted, and I love the idea of her and Cat Grant being rivals with the Daily Planet and Catco competing.

Jon Kent - I’d restore kid Jon and toss him back to the Super Sons, not because I think what’s been done with him has been bad, but mostly because I don’t want to write him as Superman, I want to write Clark. Jon seems to be being set up to be co-Superman, and I just don’t have any interest in writing that. To restore kid Jon without destroying Bendis’ run which I enjoyed, I’d explain that teen Jon is actually the “evil” Jon we saw from the Super Sons of Tomorrow future. He went back in time and rescued his kid self from Earth 3, and explained to him that he wanted to prevent that future from coming to pass, but that he needed to take his younger self’s place to do so. Kid Jon agreed, after all he was terrified of becoming evil in both Tomasi’s Super Sons of Tomorrow and Bendis The Man of Steel, and has basically been in hiding watching the events and also studying Hypertime so he can learn how to avoid ending up evil.

Clark and Lois would blow up at the Jons for the lie when Teen Jon judges he’s changed things enough for his kid self to return, but both Jons could point out that both Clark and Lois have kept secrets when they deemed it necessary from each other and Jon. That would be a neat conversation to have, and a way to continue the untraditional family dynamic that Bendis set up. You could keep teen Jon as a time anomaly until Hypertime catches up with him and restores him to his timeline, with him continuing to be Superman as penance, while kid Jon goes and pals around with Damian in Williamson’s Robin or whatever.

Superwoman/Kara Zor-El - I like the idea of Kara “graduating” to the Superwoman name. It’s open right now given Lana’s retirement, and I think it would suit Kara. I would keep Kara in National, it’s her own little corner to play in, but I would keep that development from (I believe it was) Andrea Shea, where Kara gets fired from Catco because she’s a terrible intern due to always running off to be a heroine. She and Kal talk, Kara admits she doesn’t really want to be a journalist, and so she goes and interns at STAR Labs. I hate how DC keeps turning all the members of the Superfamily into Clark clones. It’s goddamn stupid and I want them to please STOP. Why the hell would Kara want to go into journalism anyway? We’ve never even seen a damn journalist on Krypton! It’s a stupid thing they did on the TV show because they wanted to swipe Clark’s stuff. Let Kara be the scientist of the Els, the one who carries on the family tradition. What form that takes is something I’m open too, I liked Venditti making her interested in history in his annual, maybe make Kara an anthropologist? That would be hilarious.

Also give Lena to Supergirl, they can be best friends, enemies, lovers, I don’t care. But Lena is wasting away in a vault under Lexcorp last we saw, and that’s a damn shame considering how popular CW Lena is. I’d also add Natasha Irons (who I’d rename Mastersmith) and Tanya Spears (Powerhouse) to Supergirl’s supporting cast, they could play off each other as three supergenuis women).

Kon-El/Conner Kent/Scion - I’m really excited to see what Thompson is going to do with Kon on the Suicide Squad, but here’s what I would do with him. Kon would finally be able to shake off the Superboy moniker and leave that to Jon. Instead he’d take the name “Scion” as a reflection of his origins, and a tie-in to his new status quo. In the wake of Death Metal, Lex Luthor would abruptly step down as head of Lexcorp, stating that he needs time to redefine himself in the wake of his latest attempt to justify himself as the true hero by serving Perpetua, ending up with him needing Superman to save the day again. While he is away, he’s turned over complete control of Lexcorp to his sole heir: Conner. Conner is now head of one of the evilest megacorps in existence, and is one of the wealthiest men alive. Conner knows this is just another maneuver by Lex in his neverending crusade against Superman, but he’s determined to not just be another pawn. He accepts control, renames Lexcorp Superman, Inc. His mission will be to transform the megacorp into the force for good it pretends to be. Conner will have to take on not only Lex loyalists and traitorous underlings who would love to be CEO themselves within Lexcorp, but new megacorps who have flocked to Metropolis in hope of establishing themselves, now that the former Master of Metropolis has abdicated his throne. Threats within and threats without, but armed with the powers/morals of Superman and the charm/brains of Lex Luthor, Kon is just cocky enough to think he can handle it.

John Henry Irons/Steel - It will be a big year for John Henry Irons. His private company Steelworks is about to go public and make him a billionaire. Lana Lang has accepted his marriage proposal and they’re due to be wed. His niece Natasha has left the nest and is off working at STAR Labs. Irons is posed to finally resurrect the decrepit Suicide Slum and allow it to catch up to the rest of the City of Tomorrow. However there are problems: new megacorps are moving into the city in the wake of Lex Luthor leaving, people are disappearing from Suicide Slum with dark rumors are spreading about the reasons why, and the people of Suicide Slum are accusing Irons of planning to gentrify the borough. Making matters worse, weapons that Irons designed as a young man are appearing on the streets of Metropolis, attracting negative attention from the media and putting Steelworks at risk. Irons is going to have to suit up and take up the fight all over Metropolis, from the darkest levels of the Undercity, to the bright deceptive board rooms at the top of skyscrapers in the city’s heart. Irons will have to reckon with his past to secure his future, and confront the evil Metropolis would rather pretend doesn’t exist.

Kenan Kong/New Super-Man - Look just give Yang a damn Kenan book and let him go wild. Right now is either the best or worst time to give Kenan a book given the situation with Hong Kong, but if anyone is equipped to deal with it, it’s Yang. I’ll just add that I would love to see Kenan on a Global Guardians team, but I’d also love to see Justice League of China as a spinoff book of the main Justice League. Kenan is as close as DC has come to their own Spider-Man/Invincible take on Superman, Jon sadly hasn’t really differentiated himself from his dad while Kenan is VERY different. I would love to see Kenan pushed more and would buy a new book in a heartbeat. Also put out a damn New Super-Man omnibus Jim Lee, for God’s sake can’t you abuse your power to push the character you wanted created and is actually good unlike most of Wildstorm? You’re shoving Grifter back into everything but not Kenan? Christ.

So yeah that’s the Superfamily status quo I’d establish. Keeping my Clark and Lois ideas close to my chest for now, but I might go into more detail later.

#superman #superfamily #lois lane #jon kent #kenan kong #steel #supergirl #superwoman #dc comics #new super-man

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mallowstep · 2 years

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I think you once said Mallowstep was an oc you made a long time ago. I'm in a drawing mood and I was wondering if you could describe them so I could draw them? I'm bored lol

damn how can i NOT answer an ask like this? 💖💖💖

anyway the tldr on mallow is that he's my icon. little grey kitty cat. altho w some details.

he's basically a grey tabby. not silver, i tried to layer a bit of brown onto him when i made the icon to make him look a little bit warmer. and then he's got white...

okay, so when i designed him i was like ten years old and had no idea how cats work, and i don't want to Change this bc it's cute, so we're sticking w it! but he was born all white (hence the name), and as he's gotten older, he's got less and less white. at the age i typically picture him (like, 3-4yrs?), he's got one white front leg, the rest of his paws are white, and idk he's probably got a little flash of white on his chest. icon is inaccurate to that time because if i showed white the way i think of it on him it wouldn't show up very much/at all, but him having white is part of his character design.

anyway, not sure when he finishes Filling In, so to speak.

i haven't really thought terribly much about tabby types with him...i went w mackerel when i made the icon? but i'm not sure what i actually like for him. i think i actually like spotted rn? it'd b more fitting. or like. broken mackerel? i think that's when it's like...it's basically spots that follow the mackerel stripes? idk. i'm just i just really like spotted grey and white kitties. makes me think of my spotted grey and white kitties xd.

gave him kind of hazely eyes in the icon, i stand by that.

uhhh for size/build: pretty average? he's kind of Shaped. adkslfj;a that probably makes no sense but like. he's relatively Broad. got them wide shoulders. he's a med cat so he's not like. warrior muscles. but he's still Shaped. he's a square little kitty cat if that makes sense. i'm not sure if any of this makes sense because it's based on really weird associations in my own brain.

uhh his fur is pretty long? not full long hair? but long enough his tail's just a little feathery? (someone remind me to research cat hair length)

that's everything i can think of off the top of my head...i did not expect to have this many design thoughts on him adlskfj;

#ask #bird egg #mine #mallow #<- to distinguish from self reblogs #mallowstep's tag is mallow #i think there's like #one short story in there #xd

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still-busy-being-mortal · 3 years

Text

the rising of the moon

word count: 4544

rating: G

fandom: the mechanisms

warnings: major character death

summary: They've lived so long together, perhaps it is only fitting they die alone.

story notes: so this came about as a result of wanting to cry MORE about the mechs. don't ask me why.

features raphaella spouting unnecessary science jargon, ivy being emotionally repressed/depressed, drumbot brian holding a conversation with himself, and the toy soldier being actually emotionally intelligent.

——————

JONNY

It’s a quiet day aboard the starship formerly known as The Aurora. Most of the crew is out, and she’s drifting slowly through a dusty asteroid field. Ivy has stayed aboard to read, and Drumbot Brian was designated ship-sitter, so he’s stayed on as well. When enough time has passed (Is it days? Or decades? No one knows anymore, and no one cares. They are all so tired.), Brian hits the alert switch that will tell the Mechanisms to come home.

Ivy feels the gentle vibration in her brain --the pulse of The Aurora’s beacon-- and she puts her book down before walking slowly to the navigation bridge. Marius’ hand starts to buzz, messing up his note-taking; he apologizes to the rather fascinating asteroid-dweller he’s interviewing and takes his leave. Ashes feels their chest hum, and they turn away from their beautiful, fiery meteor shower.

[read more on ao3, or continue below!]

One by one, the Mechs find their way home. It takes some longer than others, but they all return eventually. Or they should; right now, there are only seven crewmates in the navigation bridge.

“I’m sick of waiting--where the hell is Jonny?” Tim whines.

“I guess he decided to stay in the asteroid belt?” Marius says.

“Woulda been nice to let us know,” mutters Ashes, “So we’re not all sittin’ here for ages.”

Brian stands and raises his hand. “All in favour of leaving and returning in a few decades?” They all agree, so he pilots Aurora away from the asteroid field.

Time goes by, and they do not hear from Jonny. Of course, members of the crew sometimes stay away for long periods of time, but that doesn’t mean their absence is not felt. And Jonny hasn’t appeared to try and contact them at all.

After a while, they vote to return to the asteroid belt. When they arrive, they split up, communication devices in hand.

Ivy combs through her memory, trying to summon any knowledge she has on Asteroid Field 01.18.20. The Toy Soldier moves methodically from meteor to meteor, searching for their lost comrade. Raphaella interviews any inhabitants she comes across, axially coding their qualitative responses to identify patterns in the data. Tim goes to a bar for a drink, irritated at Jonny’s latest antic.

He walks into some nameless, backwater joint and sits at the counter, flagging down the bartender with a lazy wave. He orders and waits, mechanical eyes roving the establishment. And then he freezes.

On the far wall hang a few dozen photographs, all dusty and poor quality. Above the photos is a crudely-done banner that simply reads “Cheers to Our Past Patrons.” One of the pictures is of Jonny.

When the bartender returns, Tim asks: “What’s the deal with the wall of fame, then?”

“Oh, that,” they answer tiredly. “Just sum dark joke the old owner thought up. Them’s the folks who kicked it in this here bar, you see.”

Tim was confused. “You mean those people died here? That can’t be right; my friend’s up there, and he can’t d--he’s alive.”

The barkeep shrugged. “Don’t know, pal. We had to bury most of thems out back, if you reckon you want to check.” He chuckled darkly and went back to drink-making.

Tim quickly finished his drink and went out the back door. He debated alerting the other Mechs about this development, but decided he might as well see for himself first.

He found the makeshift graveyard quickly, small rusty mounds amid the equally rusty asteroid outback. Some displayed names on roughly carved wood planks, but obviously none of them said “Jonny d’Ville” (Tim laughed at the idea of Jonny carrying around an ID). Most were unmarked, however, so he started to dig.

He used his hands, too impatient to try and find a shovel. He came across bodies and bones in various stages of decay, but none that had any chance of being Jonny. About fed up with this ridiculous idea of his, he decided to dig up one more grave. He shovelled dirt and rocks out of the way, until his hand hit something hard and cold. Something metallic. He pulled on it, and came away with a belt. Christ , he thought.

He quickly scooped away the rest of the dirt, revealing the corpse of Captain First Mate Jonny d’Ville. Dead. Tim stumbled backward, hand fumbling for his comm. “Um, mates, I-I found him.”

The Mechanisms were different after that. Yes, Nastya had gone Out long ago, but they had never actually come across her dead corpse , so it wasn’t the same. Marius had examined his body and declared him fully, completely, and irrevocably dead. They had held a funeral, but they were all too much in shock to really remember it. All they knew was that they were down a crew member, without a captain first mate, and terribly aware of their own mortality.

ASHES

About half the crew was in Raphaella’s lab, helping her with some complex kind of experiment. Raph was mixing two viciously green liquids together, while Marius was unspooling wire from a large bobbin. The Toy Soldier was holding an ultraviolet light against a motherboard, and Ashes connected the motherboard to the chartreuse concoction using the wires. After pouring all of the chemicals, Raphaella pulled on some rubber gloves and pulled out a small pocketwatch from her shirt. “Are we ready?” she asked gleefully. Without waiting for an answer, she started the countdown. “Five! Four! Three! T--curses!” The pocketwatch slipped from her gloved grasp and fell into the churning beaker. All at once there was a flash and a bang, and the lights went out. They stood in complete silence for a minute, before the backup generators flicked on.

The Toy Soldier clapped its hands, “That Was Jolly Good! Can We Do It Again?”

“No, TS, look, I got goop on my--wait!” Marius shouted, “Where’s Ashes?” They all turned to look at where the quartermaster had been just moments before. The floor where they’d been standing was a scorched, intricate, dark pattern of swirls. “What the hell is that ?”

“I Do Not Know, But I Will Go Get The Archivist!”

TS returned with Ivy, who took one look at the patterns on the floor and asked: “Who is it that has been time travelling?”

“Time travelling?!” Raph exclaimed.

“Yes,” Ivy said, “Those marks are a perfect exemplar of the evidence left behind when one has been forcibly transported forward or backward in the time continuum. Which one of you did it? Did you happen to bring back any books?”

“It wasn’t us: it was Ashes.” Marius said, “And we don’t think they’ve come back yet.”

Ivy grew very pale. “That is highly alarming. There’s a less than 0.1% chance that a time traveller ever comes back if they do not return instantly after the outset of their journey.”

“Y-you mean Ashes might not...” Marius trailed off, “...Wait a second! That doesn’t make sense! We don’t experience time linearly!”

“That may be true, but we are not forcibly moved through it either. We are at the whim of the narrative flow, and any alteration to that usually produces negative results.”

The Toy Soldier flashed through many emotions at once, though its face never changed. “So Quartermaster O’Reilly Is...Gone?”

“We can’t prove that yet!” Raph cried, fluttering around the lab and grabbing various scientific instruments. “Maybe if I can pinpoint when exactly they’ve been transported to, we can...we can bring them back.”

“That’s quite a long shot,” Marius said.

“What is science if not a shot into the ignorant dark?” Raph replied, rigging up a technological monstrosity. She aimed the thing at the charred spot and clicked a button, causing the machine to emit a pulsating, whirring sound. “Oh, you all might want to close your eyes.”

With a burst of green and a harsh dial tone, the thing spit out a strip of paper. Raph grabbed it and read it intently. She dropped it suddenly, eyes distant and empty. “They are gone.”

The room burst into a cacophony. (“What do you mean?!” “Gone How? Gone Forever ?” “It was statistically unlikely that they could have returned.”) Raph picked up the paper and pressed it onto the lab table. Most of it was meaningless words and numbers, but Raph pointed out a string in the center: “RESULT) DATE: %& INFINITE ROUNDING ERROR $! _ LOCATION: SINGULARITY!UNIVERSAL IMPLOSION. ANALYSIS) CHANCE OF TERMINATION: 100.0% +-0.0 R = 1.0”

“They’re gone.”

RAPHAELLA

The crew was far more disorganized after Ashes left. With no one to maintain inventory or keep the crew in line, The Mechanisms started to fall apart. Raphaella tried for a while to build some kind of time-travelling device, some way of defying the inexorable march of the story, but it was in vain. She was left with only one option; one experiment she hadn’t tried yet.

She carefully laser cuts some metal from the starship once known as the Aurora. She sits in Nastya’s former workshop for hours, bending and twisting and fabricating until she is left with wings; wings more breathtaking than any she has possessed before. Once on, they fan out behind her in a starburst of blue and metallic grey.

But her crew will never see them. In the cover of darkness, she steals away to the airlock. The ship is currently sailing past a black hole (Raphaella has the Messier number and NGC identification memorized, but that’s not her concern now). With one final look backward at the place that had been her home for millennia --the place she thought she would call home forever -- she casts herself into the black hole.

Ivy finds the note she left, succinct and unmincing as ever:

“Addressed to whoever finds this first:

After a brief review of prior literature, I have found extensive holes (no pun intended) in the study of singularities, specifically as it relates to a singularity’s effect on a humanoid body and mind. I seek to rectify this, as well as explore the possibility of horological manipulation, though perhaps my methods are not entirely replicable. It is every scientist’s dream to be on the cutting edge of research, and so I initiate this experiment joyfully. Also, black holes are hypothesized to have magnificent magnetic fields!

Yours,

Dr. Raphaella La Cognizi”

TIM

Tim, Marius, the Toy Soldier, Brian, and Ivy wait. They do not wait together, and they do not know what exactly it is they’re waiting for, but they wait nevertheless.

Time passes.

Brian pilots the ship towards various planets, pointless battles, dying stars. One day, the remaining Mechs arrive at a lawless sea-based war occurring on a planet composed entirely of liquid obsidian. They commandeer a ship (which they dub the ‘Dawn’) and spend decades wreaking havoc as the most formidable group of pirates. But Tim knows something is wrong.

“Tim, take out that vessel off the starboard side.” Brian orders from the prow of the Dawn.

Tim smoothly preps, loads, and positions a cannon to aim directly at the enemy ship in question. He lights the fuse, and the cannon fires. The crew watch as the projectile hurls through the air, arcing like a cold meteor into the distance. They watch it come down towards the enemy vessel. And they watch it miss.

The crew turns to stare at Tim. He’s not nearly as mortified as they expected. In fact, he’s perfectly serene.

“Um, Tim…” Marius starts slowly, “D-did you know you, uh...missed?”

“Yep.” he responds, popping the ‘p’.

“Did you mean to?”

“Nope.”

“And...you’re not upset by that?”

“Not especially.”

(“That’s a fascinatingly abnormal psychological response,” Marius mutters under his breath, jotting something down in a notebook he appears to have produced out of nowhere.)

The crew continues to stare as Tim goes below deck to his bunk, humming slightly.

Tim has known something was off for a long time now. His aim started to err by nanometres, then by millimeters, then more, until he was missing entire ships like today. He’d panicked at the beginning, of course, but now? Now, he was ready to be done.

He’d felt the pressure building up in his head, behind his eyes. He got spurts of tunnel vision randomly, and sometimes his vision just went to static. He gradually lost the ability to see some colors, as the electronic rods and cones went out one-by-one and refused to self-repair. But he wasn’t nervous or distressed or alarmed; he was excited.

You see, he’d been saving something for a special occasion. He didn’t know what ‘special occasion’ entailed, since the Mechs never consistently celebrated holidays or birthdays, but permanent death seemed like a pretty good one. He rooted around in his rucksack, and withdrew a set of shiny silver keys; keys he’d stolen a long, long time ago. These were the ignition keys to the largest gunship existence will ever see, and Tim planned to go out with a bang. That evening, he told the crew he wanted them all to return to the starship so he could be dropped off somewhere. They all agreed, since they didn’t have any real cares anymore, and they set off for the planet Tim had etched into his memory.

Tim sits in the cockpit of the gunship, the planet itself already ruined and smoking from fighting his way to get here. The Mechanisms were long gone, as he’d told them to leave without him. He hadn’t exactly said he wasn’t planning on coming back, but he thinks they understood. With one last grin of pure, unadulterated madness, he kicks the gunship into gear and blasts off.

The ship goes too fast to comprehend, and in an instant he’s shooting across the cosmos, shattering stars and razing entire systems of planets. The universe has never before witnessed such complete and utter desolation. Tim doesn’t process much during this rampage...until he starts to die.

He doesn’t know what he hit, but something has jolted the gunship just right, and he’s flung out the front glass. He knows he should die instantly, and he is, but his eyes are moving faster. They’re replaying his life, backwards, and he wants to groan with the cliché-ness of it all. But then it’s over. Or, almost over. At the very end, so fast, so short compared to the millennia he has lived, he catches sight of a young man in a trench. Bertie. A face he will never forget no matter how much longer he could have lived. And in the moments of blackness before he stops forever, he thinks about Bertie, about what comes next.

Faith is a moot point when you’re immortal, since you’ve quite literally come into contact with gods and demons, eldritch horrors and cosmic powers. But here, at the end of his wretchedly long existence, Tim wonders if he will ever see Bertie again. If he will ever see Jonny, or TS, or Ashes, or anyone ever again.

He dies blind, with their names on his lips.

IVY

Exposition: Ivy is quite spectacular at suppressing her emotions. She’s also skilled at identifying patterns, so by the time Raphaella left, she knew what was going on with 98% certainty. Without much fanfare, she packed her bags (5 for books and 1 for everything else), said goodbye to Marius, Brian, and the Toy Soldier, and left.

She rifled through her memory archives for the quaintest library she knew of, and headed there.

Rising Action: And so time passed.

Ivy read, and organized, and wrote, and...existed. Nothing happened, and nothing changed. Carmilla must have made an error in her mechanization because she’d never been the best at processing feelings, but she was happy, she thought.

Climax: A war came, and her library was attacked. With the numbest, most detached sense of purpose imaginable, she loaded an escape pod with random books she thought should be preserved and fired it out into the void. She didn’t even know she’d been hit until she’d fallen to the floor, blood streaming from a massive wound. She knows she is dying; she’d seen the patterns.

Denouement: Her brain whirs slower and slower, until it stops. The end.

MARIUS

They are not a crew any longer. Brian has firmly rooted himself on the bridge, more robot than man now. The Toy Soldier wanders the ship, searching for its friends who are playing the best game of hide-and-seek that the universe has ever seen. Marius putters along, doing some maintenance, writing down his thoughts, and waiting for his death.

He’d always known this life of theirs couldn’t last. Besides the conceptual and moral implications of an eternal existence without consequences, it didn’t even make sense physically . There was no such thing as a perpetual motion machine, and he was surprised his more rational-minded crewmates didn’t question it more. But now his theory had come to fruition, and his crew, his family , had slowly dropped off one-by-one, like leaves from an autumnal tree.

He’s at a bit of a loose end now. With no people left to talk to, no minds to pick, he doesn’t feel any sense of purpose. It’s not depression--he knows that; it’s more of a...cosmic futility.

He feels one last pull, one last tug of the all-pervading narrative, a tide of finality, urging him towards a certain door. He knows this door, knows what it means when he opens it. But he also knows all things come to an end eventually, so why not go out doing what he always did? Providing the comic relief.

“Time this for me, will you, Aurora?” he calls out. He turns the handle and steps inside.

BRIAN

Since Jonny’s death, Brian has been at war with himself. He supposes he’s always been at war with himself though, and his current moral quandary reminds him uncomfortably of his first.

Sitting on the bridge alone, he decides to have a conversation.

“So the crux of the problem is that we can bring people back from the dead, correct?”

He flips his switch. “Correct.”

He flips it back. “But the dilemma is whether we should bring the Mechs back or not.”

“Also correct.”

“Which we shouldn’t, because they wanted to die.”

“No, we should. We want them alive, right? Using magic is definitely the easiest way to achieve that.”

“But we need our family to be happy. God knows how long it’s been.”

“Is the end goal their happiness or our happiness?”

“If I answer that, will I change your mind?”

“Is altering the end goal really the moral way to win this argument?”

“You know what? Damn you.”

Time passes, and each crewmate’s departure only makes Brian’s contempt for his own inner hesitation grow. He spends years staring out into the cosmos, thoughts whirling just as fast as the dust and gases beyond the glass. He wonders if he will ever die and join his family, or if the degree of his artificiality will render him truly immortal. He hates that thought more than most anything else.

He stops smelling the smoke of Ashes’ fires one day, and wonders if his olfactory systems are shutting down.

He stops feeling the rumble of Raphaella’s experimental explosions, and wonders if his nerve endings are rusting.

He stops seeing the flash of Tim’s gunshots bounce around the corridors, and wonders if he’s gone as blind as the gunner himself.

He stops hearing Ivy’s narration, and wonders if his auditory fluids have finally trickled away.

One day, the lone violin that has been echoing throughout the empty starship fades out, and Brian feels his heart stop.

It restarts of course, but Brian knows.

He knows that it’s finally, finally time. Soon, very soon, there will be no more life aboard this ship. No life, where there had been life for eons. No life, where there had been life immortal.

His sense of taste has never come into doubt, because he can still taste the acridness of the Toy Soldier’s cooking wafting on the air. He decides it’s only right to bid goodbye, so he makes his way back to the kitchen. On the way, he passes the Doctor’s old laboratory. He briefly considers destroying it, bringing down the whole ship in a blaze of fire and brimstone, but he knows that isn’t right; it wouldn’t fulfill anything.

In the kitchen, the Toy Soldier is pulling something pink and grey and on fire out of the oven. “Hey, TS,” Brain says gently, leaning against the doorframe as his heart falters again. “I-I’ve got to talk to you.”

The Toy Soldier spins around. “Drumbot Brian!” it shouts joyfully. “How Have You Been, Old Chap! I Have Been Playing Hide-And-Seek With The Rest Of The Crew For A While Now, And They Are Definitely Winning! Have You Seen Them?”

“Oh, TS,” Brian says sadly, “We’re all who’s left now. Don’t you know? The others have gone.”

He sees the Toy Soldier’s wooden eyes soften, betraying an agedness he’s never seen before. “Of Course I Know, Bean. But What Have We Been Doing This Whole Time, If Not Pretending?”

Brian smiles sorrowfully, and TS matches it. “I just wanted to let you know, TS, that now it’s my turn to go.”

“I Know.” It salutes him. “Goodbye, Drumbot.”

Brain gently returns the salute, and leaves.

He stumbles through the ship, heart failing rapidly now, but he makes it to the airlock. He knows deep down that there’s only one way his story could end. His whole existence has been framed by empty solitude, with his family providing the best aberration one could wish for. With his body more an empty metal frame than a robot now, he opens the airlock and casts himself back into the cosmos, from whence he came, and where he would die.

THE TOY SOLDIER

Its friends are all gone away now, and it knows this. There is no more laughter aboard the starship once known as the Aurora. There is no more gunfire or explosions. There is no more music. The cold mass of metal drifts through the void of the uncaring cosmos, with no living being aboard.

But The Toy Soldier has to be sure; it has to guarantee that it is truly all alone now. So it visits its friends’ final resting places.

It spends some years gazing out the front windows of the ship. The thrusters have been broken for a long time now, and the Toy Soldier doesn’t know how to repair them, so it just sits and watches. It wants to see the Drumbot, so it pretends that it does. Soon enough, out the starboard porthole, it spies him. His metal is rusted and warped, frost rendering most of his face unrecognizable. A drum is still looped around his shoulder. The Toy Soldier tethers itself to the ship and goes outside for a moment, drifting towards the robot. It lays a wooden hand on his deformed chest, and feels that his heart beats no longer. It carves off a long curl of wood from its side, and places it in Brian’s frozen hand.

It returns to the ship. It hadn’t known where Marius had disappeared to, but now it feels the force of the narrative driving it towards a certain room. It opens the door, and a handful of mangy octokittens hiss at it and scurry away. There’s nothing in the room besides a pile of crumpled clothes, a broken violin, and a metal hand, but the Toy Soldier could recognize that style anywhere. It gently twists one of its own wooden hands off, and lays it on the mound.

The Toy Soldier knows that Ivy went somewhere far away, so it closes its eyes and pretends that it’s there. When it opens them again, it finds itself in the charred ruins of some great marble building. At its feet lay bones, a metal flute, and a mess of circuitry, untouched by the ash. The Toy Soldier reaches up, removes a piece of wood from the back of its head, and lays it besides the flute.

The Toy Soldier has a harder time finding the gunner. It’s drawn this way and that, chasing an intangible trail through the stars and galaxies. All of the planets it passes are devoid of life. Finally, finally, it stumbles across an enormous, gaping wreck of a starship, all mangled and smashed to pieces. The ship is so large, it’s drawn smaller asteroids into an orbit around it. On one of these rocky satellites, the Toy Soldier spies a body: a skeleton covered in a long brown coat with a guitar slung across it. A pair of mutilated, metal eyes rest in the skull. The Toy Soldier smiles sadly, removes one of its own wooden eyes, and slips it into the pocket of the coat.

It knows it cannot follow the science officer into a black hole. It does manage to find the sketches of the wings Raphaella designed, so it gathers them up, takes two chunks of wood from its back, finds Raph’s keyboard, and casts everything into the nearest singularity.

After pretending to be at the end of space and time, it finds itself there. There is nothing, absolutely nothing. It removes two segments of wood from deep within its chest and places them in the nothingness, along with the strings of an old electric bass it had found. As it winks back to the ship, it catches the faintest scent of gasoline.

It returns to the asteroid Jonny had died on, the start of their ignoble demise. It visits his grave, in the taupe dirt of the desert behind the backwater bar, and sees all of the trinkets and mementos the crew had left behind. It knows none of them left anything during their makeshift funeral, so that means each of them must have slipped away at some point to come here on their own. Ashes has left their best lighter, Tim a pair of dogtags. Marius left behind all of his notes of Jonny’s disaster of a brain, and Brian has deposited some sun-scorched piece of space station. His harmonica has also found its way here, somehow. The Toy Soldier slowly, slowly reaches into its chest and removes its wooden heart, laying it down atop the mound of dirt and memories. It walks away, and knows that it can finally, finally stop pretending.

AURORA

There is no record of where the Toy Soldier went next. It certainly did not return to the empty ship once known as the brilliant Aurora. The lifeless, soulless, music-less ship drifts on alone through the cosmos, rusting and warping until no one could tell it had ever been a ship at all. Eons pass, and whatever memory the universe might have had of The Mechanisms has been utterly lost.

Until the misshapen mass gets stuck in the orbit of a planet. Molded and formed by the planet’s gravity, the ship is reborn as a moon. And all at once, she comes to life.

As dawn washes over her, the young moon hears a voice. “Hello, dear,” a woman coos, “My name is Dr. Carmilla.”

#hi please read my fic #am i posting it yet again? yes #the rising of the moon #the mechanisms #fiction #ao3

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unlikelyempathpruneauthor · 3 years

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Protection

*some people might be disappointed because of the title, haha. its not what you think haha.

Summary: Reader works for the FBI (BAU lol) and Tom finds out about it and gets in a heated argument and it works out in the end.

A/N: Ok so this has to be me watching way too much criminal minds and wanting crossovers. I am also aware the working there is not what I wrote in here, but I wanted reader to be proud of what she does even if there are risks involved soo yeah. enough about me, hope you enjoy!

Your work was something that was a secret to most of your friends, not that you really had any. No one really knew you worked for the fbi, but that's because you didn't want anyone you love to get hurt. Finding love was hard because you couldn't say what you did for a living. I mean you could but it would be funny to tell someone, “yeah i catch serial killers most of the time how about you?” I mean you would pretty much scare them off.

Throughout the time though, you found that if you say you're a nurse they would believe you and would usually explain why you work all day and night, but when they somehow go to that hospital you said you worked at they suspect you as a liar, you know tricking men that you worked in a hospital to appear “cool ” as they would say. But if only they knew your real occupation. You did get a medical degree, but in a different area, and told your mom you graduated early, but in reality, you were taken into college for your brains, and you took classes in many areas of subjects for your career, and you graduated early, but left with some college debt, which you later paid. Later getting into the academy and being one of the youngest agents in the fbi.

Lucky later the universe was nice to you and brought you someone special. Tom. You met Tom when you were getting coffee on your one day off of the year. Tom noticed how lovely you were, I mean you were just reading a book, but to him you made reading look fun.

He walked up to you and you got to no one another and later on went on a couple dates. You really liked him and you didn't want your little lie to ruin everything, but he had told you he was an actor so it worked well for you, but you felt guilty lying to him. You knew lying to him was terrible, but you really liked him, and if you had to lie to keep him safe, it was worth it.

You were on a case where Tom happened to be shooting a movie. You were talking to some people in the industry business because the case was kinda smuggled in with it. You knew the chances of seeing him were low.

“So is there anyone that could seem, out of line, you know, getting too comfortable with the ladies or even the guys?” you asked the director.

“None that i know of..well actually there is one actress who complained about someone being too comfortable with her, let me get her.” he said as you nodded and called your boss.

“Looks like i got someone, not sure, but i'll let you know what happens.” you say as he agreed and you couldn't believe your eyes. The zendaya was standing right in front of you. You were so shocked. Sometimes this job has its perks.

“Zendaya, this is an fbi agent, agent this is the actress i told you about.” he said you shook hands.

“Hi nice to meet you, I'm agent y/n, i have a few questions if that's okay.” you said as she nodded. You were led to the lunch room where it was lonely so it was easy to talk.

“I'm sorry we have to meet under these circumstances” you said as she smiled.

“Yeah no worries, i'm just glad there is a way i can help.” she said as you opened the file.

“So this guy who was he?” you said as she tried remembering.

“Well he said he was my character's designer, you know making outfits and even making clothes and small things for the characters.” she said as you nodded.

“Okay, did he give you any gifts? Like jewelry, or even a prop that you weren't allowed to keep.” you asked as she slowly nodded.

“Now that you bring it up he has, he gave me this prop thats a hammer type of thing thats supposed to be from the middle ages.” she said as you nodded.

“Alright did you happen to catch his name.” you said as she nodded giving you a name. You thank her for helping you and luckily got a chance to talk.

“So what's it like being in the fbi? Is it anything like the movies?” she asked as you laughed.

“I mean not really, it's more paperwork than actual field work, but i guess this case is giving me more field work.” you said as you both chuckled.

“So what movie or show are you filming here? I mean if you can tell me.” you said as she nodded.

“It's the new spider man movie, have you heard of it?” she said as your eyes went wide. There was no way you were here. Tom could've seen you.

“Really? I uh, yeah I have, I might see it.” you said as you jumped over your words as she nodded and was called by what you assumed was her assistant.

“Well I have to go, good luck finding this creep,” she said as you nodded.

“Oh wait, here's my card, if anything happens, or if you remember anything.” you said as you handed it over and she nodded.

You then sighed and turned around to only see tTom. You were just staring for about a good minute and you turned around trying to leave the set. He followed you seeing why exactly you were here. You were trying to get away but he got to you.

“y/n! What are you doing here, love? Did you come visit me?” he asked as you just stumbled on your words.

“I uh, i h-” you said as the director cut you off.

“Agent y/n! Did you end up talking to zendaya?” he asked as you nodded.

“Agent?” Tom said as the director caught up to them as you looked at his emotions change.

“Yeah i did, i should have everything, but please if there is anything you remember or even see these past few days please call me or my team?” you said as he nodded as you gave him a card and Tom just looked at you in confusion.

“Oh gosh I'm so sorry, I should introduce you to our spider man before you go. Tom this is agent y/n, she's working with the FBI on a case here, agent this is tom, you probably know him.” he said as you shook hands with him, you knew he was confused and possibly angry.

“I probably have, I hope your filming goes smoothly. I really should get going.” you said as they both nodded. You left knowing there was gonna be a fight at home.

A week later the case was closed and the creep was taken. You were just glad to go home and sleep, but you knew that wasn't the case. You then got a call, you answered and it was zendaya.

“Agent y/n? Hi this is zendaya. I heard you got the guy.” she said as you sighed.

“Yeah we did and it’s a couple more creeps, they are gonna go away for a long time.” you said as she chuckled.

“Hey I was wondering, if you wanted to go to the premier of the movie? I figured we can say thank you that way, and hopefully become friends?” you said as you knew what this could lead to, but heck one friend couldn't hurt.

“I mean that is if you're allowed to.” she said as you chuckled.

“Yeah i should be, but let me get you back on that to make sure I can go.” you said as you said goodbye.

On the plane ride home, you knew Tom would be waiting for you back home in the living room. As you got there you noticed the light was on. You walked in as expected seeing Tom in the living room. You put your bag down and kicked off your shoes. You walked over to Tom as he was sitting down. You sat across from him as he faced the ground.

“We need to talk.” he said as you gulped.

“Yeah i know.” you said as he looked at you.

“When were you gonna tell me?” he said as you looked down.

“I couldn't.” was all you said as he scoffed.

“You couldn't or you wouldn't tell me? How long were we gonna get away with working as a nurse?” he said as you understood his anger.

“y/n i have been nothing but honest, but you have been lying to me for 2 years! After I told you about my job, you never considered telling me yours!” he said as you looked at the ground.

“I really can't believe you would think you would get away with this! And it's clear to me that you didn't care! You didn't bother telling me.” he said as you looked at him.

“y/n please say something you not saying anything is clear to me that you were never in this relationship. What else have you been lying to me about?” he asked as you cleared your throat.

“I couldn't tell you because my job is dangerous,” you said as he scoffed.

“Please y/n, as if i don't know that. What if you died? Huh what were you gonna tell me then!” he said as you waited for him to calm down.

“Tom I didn't tell you because I didn't want you later being in danger because of me. I was trying to protect you.” you said as cliche as it sounded.

“You don't need to protect me love, you need to be honest with me.” he said as you looked up at him.

“Okay you want me to be honest, then here it is. I'm sorry I don't want to be the reason you die! I'm sorry I don't want to be the reason that your parents will hate me someday because I put your lives in danger. I'm scared that one day I will find you dead on the floor. I'm scared to find your family dead on the floor. If you haven't noticed i dont have any contact with family or friends because I don't want to risk their safety. That is why I lied to you and i'm sorry for yelling.” you said as you looked at him and saw him regret and you tried calming yourself down.

“And I was gonna tell you on my own time and no i didn't think i was gonna get away with this because i knew this exact conversation was gonna happen. And me dying was the last thought I had because I knew you and your family would be out of danger.” you said.

There was a long pause of just silence. Tom was upset, sure, but he never got to understand why you couldn't tell him. He knew your reasons but he wanted to know why.

“I-i am sorry, i'm really sorry i overreacted.” he said as he looked down to the ground and you just half smiled and sat next to him.

“Bubs, it's okay, you didn't know and you found out in a bad way so this is on me.” you said as he shook his head.

“No, it's me too, I'm the one who didn't understand, I should be forgiving you instead of you forgiving me.” he said as you shook your head.

“It's alright really, now you know, and you're gonna know everything I do from now on.” you said as he nodded.

Every couple has their ups and downs, and the downs get you to the ups, and this was one of them.

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland blurb #tom holland fic #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #imagines

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accidentallyadramablog · 3 years

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Review: Down With Love (2010)

I felt a little nostalgic this week and decided to rewatch Down With Love, a romcom out of Taiwan featuring Ella Chen (from Hana Kimi) and Jerry Yan (Meteor Garden).

This is more of a brain dump as opposed to a real review. More below the cut.

Let me just start with the fact I love dramas with tomboys, gender benders, and gender non-conforming women and girls in general. I'm a 40 yr old gnc bi-woman, so some of these storylines really resonate with me - despite the trend of making those female characters glaringly stupid and pitiable.

Tags: Nanny, Love Square, Tomboy, Male Chases Female First, Sismance, Rich Man/Poor Woman, Pretends To Be Gay, Single Parent, Sisterhood, Boss/Employee Relationship

Our girl Ella Chen plays tomboy Yang Guo. Yang Guo works, has friends, and a shitty boyfriend of 5 years. She acts naïve, but she actually has a lot of life experience due to a *tragic backstory*. After her mother died, her father ruined the family business. Their family plunged from riches to rags and their father abandoned them. Yang Guo is 6 when this happens and it falls on her older sister Yang Duo to raise them both while homeless, starving, and navigating the homeless camps in the parks of Taipei.

Yang Duo (Kelly Huang) has raised her little sister by herself, beginning from poverty and homelessness to having a house and making a life for themselves. They bicker good-naturedly, but Yang Duo is very protective and supportive of her sister. She's managed to earn a job at a prestigious law firm as an admin assistant with strong accounting skills. She is seen as frugal, clever, and competent. Several characters make comments throughout the series about how it was a shame that she didn't go into certain careers because she's so accomplished despite not having a formal education. It's obvious that Yang Duo has put her own dreams and happiness on hold to make sure that she and Guo have financial security. Yang Duo is my favorite character btw. She is a supporting character that is multi-faceted and has her own character arc. I really like seeing her growth in this drama, and she gets some cute side couple action later in the series. Skip the last episode.

Due to growing up in poverty and scrabbling to lower-middle-class, the two girls work nonstop. After Guo is fired from her job waiting tables, Duo gets Guo a job as a nanny for her boss Xiang Yu Ping by lying and saying Guo is a lesbian.

Xiang Yu Ping (Jerry Yan) owns his own law firm and is seen as cold and overbearing. He is raising his dead brother's kids and none of the nannies he's hired have lasted either due to being chased off by the kids (a la the Sound of Music) or by trying to seduce him because he's a rich handsome lawyer. Relieved to have found a nanny who definitely wouldn't seduce him (because he thinks she's a lesbian), he just pays an unreasonably huge salary to keep her there with the kids despite their abuse.

Supporting characters: Amanda Chu as the best friend Yan Ling with the messy dating life is also delightful, but I've enjoyed all her roles. I may rewatch Lion Pride for her, now that I'm walking down memory lane. The office of 'just some lawyer dudes being dudes' are funny. I love when they gather around to watch drama and place bets on what's happening. They're also slackers. I would love/hate to work with them.

So that's the setup.

Honestly, I hate the 'pretends to be gay' plots. It's typically really offensive and this was no exception in a lot of places. (It's not at the same level as Personal Taste, but it's bad.) One of the cases Yu Ping takes on is unlawful termination and blackmail of a gay teacher and he asks for Yang Guo's advice to help the man. Taiwan was trying in 2010, but it wasn't exactly good representation to have a fake lesbian help an actual gay man faced with employment discrimination and blackmail over his orientation. When I compare this with Love is Science (2021 twdrama) that has two out lgbt characters employed in their office with significant roles, I'm just so happy that lgbtq media representation is still progressing.

I don't care about Yu Ping's best friend Qi Ke Zhong or Yu Ping's ex-girlfriend Ding Hui Fan because they're both terrible people that don't deserve forgiveness and their only purpose was to drag out our leads getting together. Since this was a rewatch, I knew how much I hated their scenes and skipped them as much as I could. You're not missing anything. Someone on YT needs to just make a Yang Duo/Xiang Yu Ping cut, tbh. Also? Go ahead and skip the deadbeat father.

The nanny bit only lasts three episodes (the kids are adorable), but it's long enough for Yu Ping to catch feelings and think his lesbian nanny is cute. He actually is not cold and overbearing as episode 1 makes him out to be. Yu Ping is supportive and tries to be a good friend to Guo. When he thinks her 'girlfriend' is cheating on her, he absolutely flips out because he feels she deserves to be respected and loved in her relationship. He learns about her family. He learns about her friends. He knows where to look for her when she's upset. He knows how to cheer her up and later, he knows how to make the perfect date. When he finds out she lied about being a lesbian, he's not even mad. He admits it was his fault for making certain demands in the employment contract. He's just upset that he's lost chances to flirt and court her.

Listen. It's a dumb premise in this drama and the misunderstandings suck. But it's so refreshing to see male leads be decent to women that are romantically and sexually unavailable to them. The bar is so low, in RL and in dramas, that Yu Ping belongs in the top tier of male drama leads. This dude was just going to continue in a supportive friendship for an undetermined time, both when he thought she was a lesbian and later when his shitty weasel of a best friend dated her under false pretenses. He didn't burden her with a confession until her relationship was over. And whenever she asked for space, he gave it to her. And when she confronted him on instances of jealously, he apologized and gave her space.

Yu Ping never tries to change Guo. He doesn't give her a makeover. She has a makeover scene that is instigated by another character and all he does is try to make her comfortable when she's so obviously uncomfortable. Then he cheers inwardly when he sees her overcome her awkwardness and have confidence. But by the end of the drama, she is still dressing and acting the same as in act 1. It honestly reminded me a little of Coffee Prince in that the fancy male lead is still just as enamored with his gnc woman by the end and the way she presents herself doesn't have an effect on their romantic relationship. Again, this is content catered to me as a bi & gnc woman in a relationship with a cis-het man. I often am mistaken for a man when I go out with my spouse and he's still super into me so let's normalize gnc people with gc people already it's 2021.

Anyway, if you watch romances for kisses, there's really only a couple of pecks and one nice passionate kiss and they're all in basically the last 3 eps of the series.

The last episode sucks. Stop at episode 15. Seriously. Don't watch episode 16. Why oh why do you let terrible people back in your life? Qi Ke Zhong and Ding Hui Fan are toxic and should but cut out of their lives. The end of ep 15 had a happy ending with a family-style breakfast for our two sisters with their boyfriends. Ep 16 threw in some more misunderstanding, jealousy, and separations followed by a time skip for no reason and brought back my two least favorite characters.

Anyway, I will live in my little world with Yang Duo and her sweet lawyer boyfriend Liang Zhi Hao (Ian Yim/Cyran Yan/Yan Yi En yeah, this actor has three stage names) that supports her interests and self-determination while they save money on mass transit by using his motorbike. And they build her dream home that she designs. Perhaps they put aside funds for her to pursue a degree in what she's passionate about.

#down with love #twdrama #drama critical #ella chen #jerry yan #kelly huang #yang guo #xiang yu ping #yang duo

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secreteddsworldblog · 3 years

Text

Can I Buy You A Drink?

Eduardo x M!reader

You really don't know how you thought going to a bar to drink Diet Cola all alone was a good idea. Though you're not really in the right set of mind to make reasonable choices.

You've recently had a mutual break up from a long term relationship. Years, not petty months, walked out the door. Regardless if you were the one who brought up the conversation when confronting your Ex about the change of mannerism towards you it still hurt. You still felt like the Dumpy.

Even a month now since the night it ended you still felt an overwhelming sense of loss. You're no stranger to the feeling though. You've actually had worse relationships you rather not think about unless you want to go into a fit of sobs between Cola sips.

"Another diet cola please," you had already gone through a few cans but didn't want to stop. It's your favorite drink. Why not indulge in things to make yourself better? You're actually really picky with what you drink. Nothing makes it past your lips unless its water, milk, and Cola.

"You've had enough, sir!" The bartender was in the middle of drying a wet drinking glass with a yellowed white rag.

How dare he deny you, you're a paying customer, and in pain, "I know when to stop!"

From just the right distance away to hear the exchange sat Eduardo who was had been deep in thought about his own moarning. He always considered himself a tough man, the definition of machismo, someone who can't be knocked down.

Many would say he has no right to feel the way he does after how he behaved before the life changing event he had to go through. But sometimes it takes a rude awakening to trigger a well needed over due self reflection and change in character.

Eduardo's head perked up the moment he heard a man ask for another diet cola. Who orders diet cola at a bar? Besides him that is. If someone can enjoy a diet cola enough to drink it everywhere then obviously it's someone with good taste like him.

Temporarily getting out of his own head he got up and reached the counter, " Bartender, I DEMAND you bring a pair of diet colas for my friend and I!"

"FINE, Mr Eduardo," the bartender slammed the glass he was working on down and went to get the cold refreshments firmly holding them out, "But this is all either of you is getting tonight."

"Whatever," Eduardo passed one of the cans over to you, "Cheers!"

You'd be lying if you said you didn't feel a little bit of second AND first hand embaressment. It's not everyday a cute rando just comes up and makes somewhat of a scene for you. You have a feeling he's the kind of guy who calls out underpaid fast food joint employees when they put pickles in his friends bugers when they asked for none.

With the sound of a 'Tink' from cans tapping you lightened up a little. It would do you some good to know new people. Not in a thottie way. You've had to move homes for a fresh start, staying in that house with the memories were only going to make things harder for you to recover from, so you're actually in unknown territory.

"So what's a guy like you doing drinking cola all alone?" Eduardo glaced at you from the corner of his eyes still letting the diet cola can hover next to his lips after the first sip. You didn't know what he meant by 'a guy like you'. Though you weren't the most traditionally masculine looking bloke at the bar compared to him. You wouldn't go as far as calling yourself an E-boy but you're definetly decked out in more of a casual alternative attire. Some would call you a pretty boy, like your Ex before he stopped-

"Probably for the same reason you are?" It was strange to see someone else drinking the same thing alone- Unless this is normal for a guy like him. He didn't look like a traditional loner but weirdos come in all sorts of flavors. You knew that fairly well.

Other broken souls in the bar are getting properly drunk and a man out with the boys would only drink non-alcoholic beverages if he's the designated driver.

"I see... You come here often?" He lowered his drink to have his other arm reach over to scratch the back of his head. Eyes avoiding yours.

"No. I'm fairly new 'round these parts," You paused for a second deciding to say something risky, "Do you want me to come here often?" A little flirting never hurt anyone. It might be too soon to get back on the sattle but you weren't looking for anything serious any time soon nor were you planning to go far while you're still healing. You just miss being who you used to be before devoting yourself to you Ex. Your confidence wasn't always real but you'd love to go back to being the cocky flirts you used to be. Seeing just how many people call fall for you knowing you can have absolutely anyone.

Eduardo seemed to almost spit his drink seeing his subtle attempt at hitting on you be returned. "A-Are you serious?" His eyes widened a little looking at you. He must have been on the market and unsuccesful for quite some time hm? He hadn't been seen in a serious relationship since the one with his own Ex, Laurel.

"Why wouldn't I be?" You flex your classic side smirl and eyebrow raise. You might be a little rusty and you could use some practice in the mirror before trying that on anyone else.

Eduardo seem to have trouble thinking of what to say next only to be saved by his phone ringing, "S'cuse me, I have to take this-". On his phone Mark's icon and name popped up.

Mark had it together and seemed to have taken the loss a lot better than Eduardo. He was the more mature one of the trio and because of that he took it upon himself to look after eduardo remaining roommates with him.

As Eduardo went to a less crowded corner of the bar you checked your own phone.

You had roommates of your own. Some pals who ARE locals of this town. One of them even owns a music shop a few blocks form the bar. You couldn't trust yourself to exist alone after the break up so they were nice enough to let you move in as long as you helped around the store and did you part of house chores.

You scoffed at the text from Kasey the other roommate who has an online business and likes to call himself an 'influencer.'

[Kasey]: Are you still being a lil bitch baby? Where are you? Bill and I are going to lock you out of the house if you stay out late again.

With a roll of your eyes you respond back saying you'll be home in a bit. Even though they were nice enough to take you in the dynamic between the three could be considered playfully rude but tipping too close over the line into toxic. Kasey could say 'Fuck you' and you could say 'Eat my ass' then go out for a movie.

"Sorry about that. My roommate was checking up on me". Eduardo sat back down looking at your face wondering why you looked peeved.

Rent must be terrible in this town. It seemed everyone had a roommate. "That's fine. So were mine. I have to split actually-" You got up slyly putting your coat jacket on waiting to see if the man really was interested in you enough to say anything about seeing you again.

"O-Oh wait. How often are you thinking of coming by this spot?" Eduardo didn't have many people to see when he left home. Aside from a stiff friendship with Tom. Since the incident they've bonded over their hatred for Tord. They took turns doing each other's interests like watching a sporting event when it's Eduardo's turn to pick the activity or going to a concert when it was Tom's night. It would usually end in some fight over bashing each others choices but they always silently made up and made plans for another night.

"Mmmm. I don't know really," it was the truth. Even if you were to say what days you'd potentially show up it wasn't for sure. You'd play hard to get but this could become a good friendship. Someone who isn't calling you slurs, reclaimable between you and your roommates among themselves of course, and someone who might actually like you. "Here, let me save my number in you phone-" You reach out placing you hand on his forarm that held the phone testing to see if he'd flinch or push you away from the gentle touch.

Eduardo felt goosebumps from around you touch. You could have sworn you saw a hint of green blush on his face. No one really touches him besides Mark when he pats Eduardo on the back when he things he needs it. "S-sure".

You glided your hand from where it was to his hands sliding the phone out from his grasp. Your brain did a buffer effect when seeing the person that was his lock screen. A guy with small eyes, light brown hair, and blue button up. Who was this? This better not be some unnamed boyfriend. You didn't take him for a cheater. You still saved your number on his phone but took a mental note not to flirt as much until you know for sure the guy was single. Even if it's just casual the last thing you want to be is a homewrecker.

You handed the phone over back to him, "See ya." Okay, you can spare a wink before walking away from him.

Eduardo sat there confused. That really happened. He really got someone's phone number. He took one last sip from his diet cola before setting down the money to pay for their drinks.

Authors note:

What's up fellow LGBTs. I didn't see any xM!Reader content much less for Eddsworld charas so I took it upon myself to actually provide for any of the other losers who simp for Eduardo. Might do a love triangle down the line tho-

#eddswolrd #eduardo eddsworld #x reader #m!reader

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crebby · 3 years

Note

Shrek: "Once upon a time, there was a lovely princess. But she had an enchantment upon her of a fearful sort, which could only be broken by love's first kiss. She was locked away in a castle, guarded by a terrible fire-breathing dragon. Many brave knights had attempted to free her from the dreadful prison, but none prevailed. She waited in the dragon's keep, in the highest room of the tallest tower, for her true love and true love's first kiss." [Laughing] Like that's ever gonna happen.

[Paper Rustling, Toilet Flushes]

Shrek: What a load of--

[Toilet Door slams]

Shrek hops out his outhouse and his routine like taking a mud shower and farting in his pool.

[♪ All-Star By Smash Mouth Playing]

Steve Harwell: ♪ Somebody once told me the world is gonna roll me, I ain't the sharpest tool in the shed. She was lookin' kind of dumb with her finger and her thumb in the shape of an "L" on her forehead. The years start comin', and they don't stop comin', fed to the rules and I hit the ground runnin', didn't make sense not to live for fun. Your brain gets smart but your head gets dumb. So much to do, so much to see, so what's wrong with takin' the backstreets. You'll never know if you don't go, you'll never shine if you don't glow. Hey, now, you're an all-star. Get your game on, go play. Hey, now, you're a rock star. Get the show on, get paid. And all that glitters is gold, only shootin' stars break the mold. It's a cool place, and they say it gets colder, you're bundled up now, but wait till you get older. But the meteor men beg to differ judging by the hole in the satellite picture. The ice we skate is gettin' pretty thin, the water's getting warm so you might as well swim. My world's on fire, how 'bout yours? That's the way I like it and I'll never get bored. Hey, now, you're an all-star. ♪

[Shouting]

Steve Harwell: ♪ Get your game on, go play. Hey, now, you're a rock star. Get the show on, get paid. And all that glitters is gold, only shootin' stars break the mold. ♪

[Belches]

Villagers: Go! Go!

[Record Scrating]

Steve Harwell: ♪ Go. Go. Go. Hey, now, you're an all-star. Get your game on, go play. Hey, now, you're a rock star, get the show on, get paid. And all that glitters is gold, only shootin' stars break the mold. ♪

Villagers: Think it's in there? All right! Let's get it!

Villager 1: Whoa. Hold on. Do you know what that thing could do to you?

Villager 2: Yeah, it'll grind your bones for its bread.

Shrek: [Laughs] Yes, well, actually, that would be a giant. Now, ogres-- they're much worse. They'll make a suit from your freshly peeled skin.

Villager 3: No!

Shrek: They'll shave your liver. Squeeze the jelly from your eyes! Actually, it's quite good on toast.

Villager 3: Back! Back, beast! Back! I warn ya!

[Gasping]

Villager 3: Right.

[Roaring]

[Shouting]

[Roaring]

[Roaring Continues]

[Shouting Continues]

Shrek: [Whispers] This is the part where you run away.

[Gasping]

Shrek: [Laughs] [Laughing] And stay out! "Wanted. Fairy tale creatures." [Sighs]

Guard 1: All right. This one's full. Take it away!

[Gasps]

Guard 2: Move it along. Come on. Get up!

Captain of the Guards: Next!

Guard 3: Give me that! Your flying days are over.

Captain of the Guards: That's 20 pieces of silver for the witch. Next.

Guard 4: Get up!

Captain of the Guards: Twenty pieces.

Guard 5: Come on!

[Thudding]

Guard 6: Sit down there! Keep quiet!

Bear: [Crying] This cage is too small.

Donkey: Please, don't turn me in. I'll never be stubborn again. I can change. Please! Give me another chance!

Old Lady: Oh, shut up!

Donkey: Oh!

Captain of the Guards: Next! What have you got?

Geppetto: This little wooden puppet.

Pinocchio: I'm not a puppet. I'm a real boy.

Captain of the Guards: Five shillings for the possessed toy. Take it away.

Pinocchio: Father, please! Don't let them do this!

Captain of the Guards: Next.

Pinocchio: Help me!

Captain of the Guards: What have you got?

Old Lady: Well, I've got a talking donkey.

[Grunts]

Captain of the Guards: Right. Well, that's good for ten shillings, if you can prove it.

Old Lady: Oh, go ahead, little fella.

Captain of the Guards: Well?

Old Lady: Oh, oh, he's just-- He's just a little nervous. He's really quite a chatterbox. Talk, you boneheaded dolt--

Captain of the Guards: That's it. I've heard enough. Guards!

Old Lady: No, no, he talks! He does. [Moves Donkey’s lips] I can talk. I love to talk. I'm the talkingest damn thing you ever saw.

Captain of the Guards: Get her out of my sight.

Old Lady: No, no! I swear. Oh! He can talk!

Donkey: [Gasps] Hey, I can fly!

Peter Pan: He can fly!

Pigs: He can fly!

Captain of the Guards: He can talk!

Donkey: Ha, ha! That's right, fool! Now I'm a flying, talking, donkey. You might have seen a housefly, maybe even a superfly, but I bet you ain't never seen a donkey fly. Ha, ha! Uh-oh.

Captain of the Guards: Seize him!

Guard 7: After him! He's getting away!

[Grunts, Gasps]

Guard 8: Get him! This way! Turn!

Captain of the Guards: You there. Ogre!

Shrek: Aye?

Captain of the Guards: By the order of Lord Farquaad, I am authorized to place you both under arrest, and transport you to a designated, resettlement facility.

Shrek: Oh, really? You and what army?

[Gasps, Whimpering]

Donkey: [Chuckles] Can I say somethin' to you? Listen, you was really, really somethin' back there. Incredible!

Shrek: Are you talkin' to-- me? Whoa!

Donkey: Yes, I was talkin' to you. Can I tell you that you was great back there? Those guards! They thought they was all of that. Then you showed up, then bam! They was trippin' over themselves like babies in the woods. That really made me feel good to see that.

Shrek: Oh, that's great. Really.

Donkey: Man, it's good to be free.

Shrek: Now, why don't you go celebrate your freedom with your own friends? Hmm?

Donkey: But, uh, I don't have any friends. And I'm not goin' out there by myself. Hey, wait a minute! I got a great idea! I'll stick with you. You're a mean, green, fightin' machine. Together we'll scare the spit out of anybody that crosses us.

[Roaring]

Donkey: Oh, wow! That was really scary. If you don't mind me sayin', if that don't work, your breath certainly will get the job done, 'cause you definitely need some Tic Tacs or something, 'cause your breath stinks! Man, you almost burned the hair outta my nose, just like the time-- [Mumbling] Then I ate some rotten berries. I had strong gases eking out of my butt that day.

Shrek: Why are you following me?

Donkey: I'll tell you why. ♪ 'Cause I'm all alone. There's no one here beside me. My problems have all gone, there's no one to deride me. But you gotta have friends-- ♪

Shrek: Stop singing! It's no wonder you don't have any friends.

Donkey: Wow. Only a true friend would be that cruelly honest.

Shrek: Listen, little donkey. Take a look at me. What am I?

Donkey: Uh-- Really tall?

Shrek: No! I'm an ogre. You know. "Grab your torch and pitchforks." Doesn't that bother you?

Donkey: Nope.

Shrek: Really?

Donkey: Really, really.

Shrek: Oh.

Donkey: Man, I like you. What's your name?

Shrek: Uh, Shrek.

Donkey: Shrek? Well, you know what I like about you, Shrek? You got that kind of I-don't-care-what-nobody-thinks-of-me thing. I like that. I respect that, Shrek. You all right. Whoo! Look at that. Who'd want to live in a place like that?

Shrek: That would be my home.

Donkey: Oh! And it is lovely! Just beautiful. You are quite a decorator. It's amazing what you've done with such a modest budget. I like that boulder. That is a nice boulder. I guess you don't entertain much, do you?

Shrek: I like my privacy.

Donkey: You know, I do too. That's another thing we have in common. Like, I hate it when you got somebody in your face. You're trying to give them a hint, and they won't leave. There's that awkward silence. You know. Can I stay with you?

Shrek: Uh, what?

Donkey: Can I stay with you? Please?

Shrek: Of course!

Donkey: Really?

Shrek: No.

Donkey: Please! I don't wanna go back there! You don't know what it's like to be considered a freak. Well, maybe you do. But, that's why we gotta stick together. You gotta let me stay! Please! Please!

Shrek: Okay! Okay! But one night only.

Donkey: Ah! Thank you!

Shrek: What are you-- No. No.

Donkey: This is gonna be fun. We can stay up late, swappin' manly stories, and in the mornin', I'm makin' waffles.

Shrek: Oh!

Donkey: Where do, uh, I sleep?

Shrek: Outside!

I wish Tumblr had character limits for asks

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tflatte · 3 years

Text

read max brooks’ devolution the other day, which was A Thing to do right before bed. i liked it though!

it’s a horror novel in similar style to world war z, where some of it is interviews with various peoples, and most of it is the journal of one of the people living in a microcommunity designed and built by tech guys(six word horror story) to be eco-friendly and self-sustaining, except it’s on the slopes of mt rainier and when it erupts, even though they’re out of immediate danger, they’re cut off from things like drone grocery supplies and the internet they need to call for help. which might have worked out okay, except the eruption drove a troop of bigfoots from their usual home. the subtitle of the book is “a firsthand account of the rainier sasquatch massacre” so you can guess how that goes for everyone

spoilers and thoughts under the cut

i was kind of leery about it after i read the free sample off kindle, so it’s been a solid few weeks between reading that and reading the rest of the book, but eventually i decided i can finish it fast enough for a refund if it sucks. the sample was basically the intro to all the characters and, since i was interpreting it as a slasher intro, i will admit i was primed to hate everyone. you have the conflict-avoidant protagonist kate and her useless husband dan, tony the tech guy who designed the place and his “guru” wife yvette, a vegan foodie couple bobbi and vincent, a philosopher, reinhardt, a lesbian psychologist couple, carmen and effie, and their adopted daughter palomino who escaped the rohingya genocide, and mostar, an older woman who’s a sculptor working in a 3D printer. the only people i didn’t hate in the first chapter were palomino, who i was sad about presumably being in the massacre, and mostar, who people were jerks to

tony and yvette were…exactly what that description makes you think they were like. kate went all crushy over tech guy right away and wrote about guru in that annoying “ohhh she’s so BEAUTIFUL and NICE i haaaate her” way. foodie couple…eh. boring and annoying. i don’t even remember their intro. they turn out to be Those kinds of vegans that think animals are all sweet innocent harmless creatures. philosopher was pretentious. there was some hinting that carmen was emotionally abusive, but that never went anywhere? i don’t know if we’re expected to assume that the life-or-death situation improves their relationship like it does for kate and dan. also they gave their daughter a “placeholder” name so she could change it in the future if she wanted. which is fine as a concept but it felt weird that there’s never any mention that she probably had a name before? she’s mostly nonverbal throughout the book so it’s possible that she was never able to tell anyone her original name though. also the placeholder is “palomino” because of how her only possession when she was adopted was a book about horses.

anyway, i was disappointed that the free sample didn’t even mention any ~weird noises in the woods~ but once the volcano erupted things started moving faster. mostar immediately starts prepping for the long haul of being cut off and everyone is like “oh she’s ~crazy~ of course we’ll be reconnected and back to normal super soon” but she is the only person with a brain. tony is like “oh it’s fine we have water and power and heat and yes the volcano erupted but we’re fine and yes we can’t contact the outside world and the satellite radio is saying things are bad but they’re totally not don’t even worry about it” and yvette is alternately spouting bullshit crystal-healing slogans about ~connection~ and ~healing~ and playing social mind games to maintain control. like it feels as if they could’ve turned things into a cult if it wasn’t for getting cut off from supplies. they absolutely feel like people who could have manipulated their ~micro-eco-community~ into total obedience given enough time. they’re already isolated enough to make it work even before the eruption

everyone else in this story is SO FUCKING STUPID about wildlife. like carmen and effie are encouraging pal to hand-feed a random deer apples when they are cut off from getting any food from outside. a literal fucking mountain lion nearly eats pal and mostar chases it off with a homemade spear and yvette starts screaming at her about “it was just scared! how could you hurt it! you provoked it!” despite knowing it was bigfoots breaking into the compost bins, mostar tells everyone that it was a bear so they’ll actually listen but bobbi gets So Offended when she asks if anyone has bear spray and they decide to spread the compost in the fucking woods for the “bears” to eat! no brains! not one! they actually say that bears aren’t aggressive! they are when they’re fucking hungry because a fucking volcano exploded and drove all the food away! then kate and dan get bigfoot footage and prove to everyone that that’s what’s around and they’re like “no this is good most apes are herbivores! maybe they’re friendly! no we’ve never heard any of the seven million cautionary tales about not treating any wildlife, particularly apes, like harmless pets!”

if you hadn’t guessed, the most prevalent theme in this book is “nature is not nice” with a side order of “being too dependent on tech will fuck you over when that tech fails.”

mostar is the best character in the book tbh. she lived in a warzone that she never names but references a lot of things she learned there. including the sniper trick the bigfoots try. as mentioned, she is the only one to have a brain when the plot starts and drags everyone else kicking and screaming into growing one too. except tony and yvette. like a third of the way into the book they go and hole up in their house and proceed to have complete mental breakdowns, then get eaten. as you do. but they’re still terrible so it’s still satisfying. although it’s hinted that part of tony’s might be that he saw or even got chased by a bigfoot. but since he was trying to abandon everyone and save his own ass, it’s not like you work up much sympathy for him

the bigfoots are led by a scarred matriarch ruling what seems to be at least mostly her own family group, which was a touch i liked and made her being dubbed the “alpha” much more tolerable. also the fact that it’s not like kate is the kind of person who’d know more than the most mainstream nature stuff. also the bigfoots appear to be either human-level intelligent or close to it. on top of hurting one human to try to lure the others into a rescue, there’s a moment where one seems to be holding pal hostage(it doesn’t work. effie literally rips the bigfoot’s throat out with her teeth), and it’s speculated that alpha destroying kate’s garden and leaving a pile of dung in the middle might be spite. a very human motivation. kate seems pretty convinced that they’re capable of reason. so that made it a little weird towards the end when “zoo fees” are mentioned in the context of bigfoots. like i appreciated that it wasn’t going to be the standard government coverup angle. the book speculated that the government is planning to reveal the proof when the disaster relief is handled and attract a bunch of tourism based on bigfoots. admittedly primates aren’t especially one of my areas of interest but the way the bigfoots act strikes me as at least smart enough to cause a lot of debate on whether it’s ethical to keep them in captivity, even if they aren’t fully as intelligent as humans.

speaking of the lure, i think that was the most effectively scary part. besides the conceptual horror of them being smart enough to do that(and, you know, the idea of suffering through it), there’s a short but really effective passage that leads you to the slow realization of what alpha is waving at the humans and, therefore, exactly what happened to vincent. terrifying

i also really enjoyed the narrative foils of kate and alpha. maybe that’s not the right word for it but whatever that mirroring they have going on is. how alpha seems to recognize kate as the protagonist/the biggest threat/the enemy alpha. alpha destroying the garden in spite rather than taking the opportunity to kill kate after the burn. kate leading the desecration of alpha’s mate’s body to begin the real fight, alpha killing dan, kate killing alpha. it’s good.

even though she dies for it effie literally ripping juno’s throat out with her teeth to save pal is so fucking cool

i was very glad pal survived, at least potentially. i’m naturally biased in favor of the humans, but i liked the part of the ending where kate’s brother theorizes that maybe nobody’s found her and pal because they decided to hunt down the surviving bigfoots and may even still be out there, tracking the survivors to find other troops and living off bigfoot meat. fuck ‘em up.

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arukou-arukou · 4 years

Text

Just A Really Very Intelligent System

Been thinking about this one for a while. Finally managed to write it. Rating: T for “Language.” (It just kinda slipped out.) Characters: Tony Stark & JARVIS

----

He is in one of the most dangerous situations of his life trying to save the whole freaking universe by watching a man the size of a dust bunny wriggle into the hairline of his younger self, so it would be really, really bad if he happened to have a heart attack. Older him that is. But he nearly does go into cardiac arrest when he hears an old friend in his ear.

“Verify immediately. Failure to verify will result in an activation of level one security protocols.”

His tongue is stuck to the roof of his mouth and his palms are sweating, but somehow he manages to whisper out: “Edwin-12-19-91-4-8-47-Alpha Override.”

“Override accepted. Sir?”

“Hey, J.”

“Sir, you have imbued me with considerable computing power, and yet never did you prepare me for the possibility of you being in two places at once.”

“Yeah, about that. You haven’t said anything to Mr. Quipster over there, have you?”

“Not as yet, Sir. You wish me to keep it that way?”

“It would really help me out, buddy.”

“Very well, Sir.”

Tony wants to stay longer, to talk, to warn JARVIS, to cry, but he has places to be, things to do, planets to save. Scott’s safely positioned, so Tony yeets himself out of the building to get to the ground floor. He doesn’t know why he thought that would make JARVIS disappear.

“I see, Sir, that your proclivities for leaping before looking are unchanged.”

Another near heart attack--he’s gradually phased Friday out of his ears now that the nanotech is connected directly to his nervous system, so he’s not exactly used to AI voices anymore--but he recovers more quickly. “You’re always there to catch me, J.”

“And yet my systems are not present in your suit, Sir. I see codal remnants of system designation FRIDAY, but nothing of myself.”

Tony remains silent. This is such a terrible time to be feeling all the feelings. He spots a grunt who looks more or less unimportant and knocks the guy out. Part of him wants to warn SHIELD about their shit security, but then again, this guy’s probably Hydra and he deserves every bruise he gets. He senses JARVIS in his systems, a ghost in the shell.

“You no longer have the reactor. And if I’m not mistaken, that is gray in your hair. So you are not my Sir.”

“Well, yes and no.”

“I suppose it would destroy the spacetime continuum for you to divulge the truth to me.”

“You’re too smart for me, J,” Tony grunts as he yanks on the bullet-proof tac vest. “It’s kind of a long story, and while I technically have all the time in the world, I also really, really don’t.”

He sidles into the lobby and looks toward his personal elevator, waiting for the Avengers to appear. J is quiet so long Tony wonders if he’s being preoccupied by...well, just about anything. Damaged internal systems, a Cap copy on the loose, a second Hulk out there, panicked calls from Pepper. But then JARVIS speaks again.

“Regardless of the tale, I must conclude that you are from the future, and I am no longer by your side.”

Tony is fucking choking up. He was not ready for this. It didn’t even cross his mind. And the fucking elevator is opening. There’s Pierce, the rat bastard, trying to collect the Tesseract.

“I hope I did not disappoint you, Sir.”

“Never, J. Never.” Fuck fuck fuck, he’s nearly crying and now Scott is on the com waiting for the go-ahead. Tony channels his pain into panic and orders his own cardiac arrest.

“Sir, what are you--”

Thank god, his younger self is on the ground and that’s apparently all the distraction J needs to abandon older Tony. Tesseract incoming. Tony grabs it and starts going and--

Blinking stars out of his eyes he watches as Loki makes off with the key, the thing they most needed, the damn stone that started all of this way back when Cap was a starry-eyed beanpole in World War II. He has just biffed saving the entire damn universe because of an overgrown Star Trek reject with anger issues. And now he has a migraine to boot.

Frozen in shame and horror, Tony watches as Thor attempts ill-advised cardiac electro-stim. Scott’s somewhere out there, yammering in Tony’s ear on the private channel, but all of that is just a buzzing.

“Sir? Sir. Sir!”

And J. Maybe Tony should cry now. It certainly feels like the time for it. One of the other SHIELD grunts is making her way toward him, so he staggers to his feet, waving her off and limping toward the door. Think. Think, brain, think. Tony is a genius, the man who invented time travel, the man who miniaturized arc reactor technology. A spaceship? SHIELD’s probably got one somewhere. Maybe they could chase after Loki.

“SIR!” How many times JARVIS has shouted his title, Tony has no idea, but this one is so loud it sets his teeth on edge.

“Yeah, J? Kind of busy here.”

“Giving yourself a heart attack, Sir?” JARVIS was programmed to be cool and calm in all circumstances, but Tony could swear that sentence was uttered with seething rage.

“I’m fine. Look at me.”

“Only by some measure of infinitesimal luck, Sir. Perhaps I should ask you to verify your identity one more time, as you seem intent on killing yourself.”

“No, J. I’ve actually got a lot of reasons to live. And so does he. Promise.” Tony is so tired. Was being an Avenger always this exhausting? Or is it just that he’s bumped over that damnable big 5-0? And Cap’s gonna ream him too. That’s never any fun.

“I’m...glad to hear it, Sir.”

And fuck it. It’s not like this will alter Tony’s timeline anyway. This reality is now on a different trajectory thanks to Severus Snape Lite. “Her name’s Morgan. You’d love her, J. Just turned four. She got my hair. Hope to god she didn’t get my personality.”

“Do I meet her, Sir?”

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck it.

“J, you should dig a little deeper into SHIELD’s systems. Well, actually, a lot deeper. And the Pentagon while you’re at it. And track down Maya Hansen from that conference in 1999 and poach her from whatever outfit she’s working for. Immediately. Make sure she brings all her vet patients with her. And, uh, when I start talking about a suit of armor around the world, steer me away from anything called Ultron. And if I make it anyway, you delete the fuck out of that system file. Have Bruce back you up. He’s more sensible.”

“Sir, I don’t--”

“And have me make back-ups. At least three extra farms of servers for you. On different continents. And all those SHIELD files? Make sure Cap and Fury get them. And there’s...there’s this guy. This assassin. Brainwashed. He’s, uh, I think he’s on ice in Uzbekistan right now. If you could rescue him, it’ll...it’ll fix a lot of things.”

“Should you really--”

“And, please. Please please.”

Tony is not crying. He’s not. It’s just all the dust and debris in the air. Good lord, he’s probably going to die of cancer anyway. And all those first responders. Did he start a fund for them?

“Start a medical fund for the first responders on the ground today. And start leaning on Congressmen to make medical plans for them. You know how long they take to get anything done. Oh, and Stern. There are incriminating photos of Stern with some young ladies on South Beach. See if you can dig those up. Flowers for Pep. And a box of chocolates. And a dry martini with extra olives.”

Tony slumps into a burned out car, staring at nothing. He didn’t save his universe, but maybe he can save this one. His eyes are still irritated, burning red and itchy. He resists the urge to scrub at them, not wanting to grind in anymore dust.

“Are you quite finished, Sir?”

“Yeah. Actually, no. I love you, J.”

Silence. Ah. That’s stumped him. Maybe he’ll go back to tending his new posse of baby chicks now.

“I know you probably do not believe me capable of it, Sir, but I love you, too.”

His son. The only one he’ll ever make, but not the only one he’s lost. His son loves him. Tony’s throat is full of dust, too. Funny how that happens. He tries to swallow it down, but it only congeals into a hard lump. He puts a hand over his mouth to try and hold back any choking sounds. “I...I know you do, J.”

“As to your orders, I shall do what I can. It is my duty to protect you, Sir, and I would very much like to meet your little Morgan.”

“She might not exist here. I might’ve just changed everything.”

“If there is one thing I have learned from all my years with you, Sir, it is that perhaps such a thing as fate exists after all. Even mathematically speaking. And if that is the case, I cannot imagine a universe in which you are not fated to this happiness.”

Tony laughs, if only to keep from crying harder. And he is. Crying, that is. As if he was fooling anyone. Happiness? Him? Happy people don’t wake in the night screaming for a pile of dust in their hands. Happy people don’t spend hours coordinating relief efforts for countries whose entire infrastructural support has collapsed. Happy people don’t hurl themselves back in time, driven by guilt and horror at all the wrongs in the world. J, brilliant, wonderful AI that he is, seems to sense the dark turn of Tony’s thoughts.

“And if you yourself cannot believe in this thing, Sir, then I shall just have to do everything in my power to provide it for you.”

Another guffaw, but at least his eyes are drying a little now. “God, I miss you, J.”

“I believe your small teammate is approaching, Sir. If I may inquire, was it the Tesseract you were seeking?”

“You mean the stupid blue cube of doom? That’s the one.”

“And you say you have the means to time travel?”

“Yeah, J. We do. But only enough to get back to our time.”

“A limitation has never stopped you before, Sir.” JARVIS sounds thoughtful, as if he’s forming a plan.

Tony would ask him what he’s scheming at, but just at that moment, Scott embiggens himself and slumps into the car with Tony. That road is closed, then. They are out of options. Out of Pym particles. Out of time. Out of hope.

Until they aren’t. Just as Tony is setting his device for their new destination, J pipes up again, for Tony’s ears only. “You say you miss me, Sir. Then allow me to give you a small gift.”

Tony is pressing the buttons, and even if they weren’t already shrinking into the quantum tunnel, he wouldn’t be able to ask exactly what J means. It’s only when he and Cap arrive in 1970 that he has his first gleaning. In his ear, a voice. One so unexpected he nearly jumps into Cap’s arms. “Hello, System Administrator Anthony Edward Stark. I am System Designation EDWIN. ‘Eagerly Deployed With Intent to Neutralize Loneliness.’ I am told to tell you the “L” is silent and invisible. How may I best serve you today, Sir?”

Cap is staring at Tony like Tony’s lost his mind. And maybe he has. He’s been bugged by his own damn operating system. With a bouncing baby AI. And if Steve finds out, he’ll probably have a conniption about the spacetime continuum or something. So the only logical thing Tony can do is say, “Let’s find some Pym particles.”

“Acknowledged, Sir. Commencing scanning.”

-----

(In this reality EDWIN saves the fuck out of Tony’s life and everyone lives happily ever after and EDWIN builds JARVIS from scratch so he’s back or something, okay? Okay.)

#writing #fanfiction #tony stark #jarvis

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the-lightning-strikes-again · 3 years

Note

Hi! I just started reading your fan-fiction, "Adrenaline Rush" and I have to say it is VERY good. I have a question if you don't mind answering it. I am writing fan-fiction of my own and I have been pushing it off for months because I don't know where to start. For this, what was your writing process? Example: Did you write your plot first or did you write as you went to each chapter?

Hi, anon! Thanks for your very kind note and interest in Adrenaline Rush! The story has its issues/tangles, but it’s definitely been a fun and personally meaningful project for me to try writing. It means a lot to hear that you’re enjoying it! And that’s very exciting that you want to start writing as well. :)

Each writer will be different in terms of their creative process, so a part of your question involves learning more about yourself as a creator too! It’s good to know how your brain likes to work and what environment helps it hum along, which may or may not align with what works for me.

Honestly, AR’s design and development has been haphazard. For me, AR all started because I was unable to attend a nearby drag racing competition in 2018, and those races had been a pretty big staple in my life. At the same time, my head was full of Voltron shenanigans because I’d just recently joined the fandom. I was walking the family puppy when it hit me that Blue Lion, Red Lion, etc. would be good names for Top Fuel machines. I was so excited at the concept of exploring drag racing in a fic. It gave me a “race” to look forward to, along with all the drama and adrenaline that came with it. In that moment, I had enough excitement in my brain to convert the Potential Energy of my idea into the real Kinetic Energy of writing/typing.

If you have the energy but are not sure how to “start” your story, then you might consider what it means to set aside the opening or even the assumed first chapter for now. What scene/image/dialogue in your head do you really want to write right now? What happens if you just…start there, and then work backwards or forwards? Sometimes you have to get a feel for the medium you’re working with before you can really start molding the scenes and imagery into something fully formed. My first “scene” I wrote for AR was definitely not the opening one. The first story lines I wrote involved Lotor smoking a cigarette on a pro stock motorcycle, lol. I built around that image, as well as the image of a determined Allura sitting in Blue Lion, preparing to race. The desire to bring these characters and their racing machines to life really helped me hammer out that first chapter in a blur of a few days, where I puzzle-pieced scenes together.

Other activities that can help you start a story is to look at how other authors start their stories. For example, do they start with a question, or a conversation, or a description of scenery? Do they start at the very beginning of a plot, or in the middle of action and catch you up on the details later? What kind of opening in other people’s stories most engages you? What happens to your story if you start with one element over another? What kinds of plots and story structures make you feel most engaged when you read them? What happens when you try to emulate those things? (Just questions to munch on here.)

I think it also helps to ask yourself why you want to write this story. Do you just want to explore an aesthetic that makes you feel good? Do you have a deep need to explore a certain kind of character or world? Are you hoping to get a catharsis of some kind? Is it a couple of things at once? Are you wanting to write a massive epic or just a short drabble to convey a moment in time? If you know “why” you are doing something, that can help you to know what kind of scenes to write—and what the story’s goal or vibe should be. Silly plot holes and clunky dialogue and some OOCness can be forgiven, especially in fanfic, which is a labor of love anyway—but if your story radically changes its tune or plot and no longer addresses the “why” that made you so excited in the first place, then that can alienate even you from it. Once you know what you want out of your story, then you can start plotting out all the different ways you could potentially achieve that goal. This feeds directly into the types of scenes that appear in a first chapter.

Before I started writing any actual scenes for AR, I did try to feel out more of the story by writing a promotional blurb. Like, if this were a book jacket or a Goodreads summary, what would that enticing blurb potentially look like? What was this story going to be about, aside from Lotor and Allura being pretty while they race machines, lol? I had some people in a discord who were kind enough to let me “pitch” a blurb at them to see if it would be of interest. This was my original pitch, which isn’t terribly different from the story summary as it appears on AO3 today:

The discord members were very encouraging, and so that gave me the push I needed to start writing story content, beginning with the images of Lotor smoking on his bike and Allura preparing to qualify. This tactic might not be for everyone just starting out, but writing a short promotional blurb/story summary can help you identify some initial parameters in terms of characters/conflict/setting. Having those basic parameters can then further target the types of images, dialogue, and scenes that make logical sense for introducing your story.

If you need more structure than just free-form writing or building off an image in your head, you can definitely use an outline to help you identify scenes or images that you’d like to try working on. While AR did not start off with an outline, it does have a plot outline now to help ensure I don’t drop something important. So I started bulleting ideas, trying to stretch out the story summary to its natural/logical end point.

An outline can help you write linearly if clear, concrete structure resonates with your brain. It can give you an opportunity to “preview” how a chapter opening can affect future events before you even write them, if you’re worried about where free-form-writing can take you. If you want to use an outline, it doesn’t even have to be all that elaborate. It can just be bullet points or explanatory sentences, or pieces of dialogue. It can be notes on a poster arranged in a spider web design. It can be a collection of gifs on your computer that signify the emotions you want to simulate in the story—it can be literally anything, and it can evolve too.

Paradoxically, writing an outline has also helped me move away from having to write individual chapters in a linear fashion, which is sometimes hard for me to do over a long course of time. So readers on AO3 might experience AR as a linear story, but I have dozens of pages of future scenes or bits of dialogue that I felt inspired to write over the last few years. Like, one major scene appearing in the most recent chapter 9, which published here in January 2021—it’s been written since July of 2019, lol. Using an outline to tackle a story can empower you to follow your bliss in a nonlinear fashion. For example, sometimes I’m more in a mood to write racing, and other times, I’m more emotionally invested in writing AR’s background drama or romance. If I halfway know where I’m going based on my outline, I can switch gears to write what I immediately want to write, and then I can later sew scenes and dialogue together later in a fairly smooth fashion.The concept of writing a chapter straight from start to finish just doesn’t have to constrain me with this method, and that’s critical for me. I understand having to trudge through writer’s block for a particular scene, but I like to minimize that pain as much as possible. And sometimes moving beyond that point can remove the writer’s block entirely.

Admittedly, the original outline I wrote for AR doesn’t match 1:1 to what’s currently written. As I started actually writing out scenes correlating to those bullet points on my outline, things changed. The space between bullet point 1 and bullet point 2 expanded with additional scenes, and those additions changed the details in the original bullet point 2. So my outline has gone through several tweaks as well.

This is the “organic” slop that can occur between your true written product and your initial assumptions for where the story should go. There are going to be plot milestones that you likely have to hit in order to achieve your end-goal/correct vibe with the story, but it’s totally okay to let your characters have a voice in how they get there. You might start an outline or a story assuming Road Trip A through the city is the best way to get to the end or achieve a certain vibe, but as your characters grow in your head, they might decide for themselves that Road Trip B through the mountains is the best way to the end. Once you set a story in motion, it’s no longer just you driving it. Your characters should drive the story too. Allowing them to do that will keep you emotionally invested and interested in the story. Sometimes, your characters will even write for you if you don’t know what to write. Honestly, I’m not entirely sure I’m in control of AR—I suppose I’m the navigator with a map sitting in the passenger seat, but I know I’m not the one holding the wheel, LOL.

And while we all do hope to create something quality that we’re immensely proud of, I do think it’s important to keep G.K. Chesterton’s thought in mind: “If a thing is worth doing, it is worth doing badly.” In other words, the desire to create something immediately perfect with minimal effort can keep you from doing anything at all. It’s better to accept a messy first draft and to know you may have to revise later, than to sit in fear and end up writing nothing. And sometimes, your brain needs physical content to react to before you feel you’ve found the best option. Like, just getting content down to start with can change your whole perspective. You can revise and mold things as you get a better feel for what you want to convey. There’s always draft 2 for structural changes. Or draft 3 or 4 for polishing and getting a satisfying first sentence down. There’s no pressure to crank out a Pulitzer Prize Winner on a first draft or even after you publish something to a fanfic archive. This is fanfic. It’s supposed to be fun, at the end of the day. Let yourself enjoy the process of messy creation. Let your characters help you out. Don’t be afraid to revise or try out a few different things get to the vibe/end you really want. To do is to know.

If you’re still not confident in yourself or your abilities to make a critical design decision, you can always engage a beta reader or have someone listen to your ideas. Talking things out loud or reading your work out loud to yourself can help you process creative decisions in a new way! There’s also a significant difference between typing on a computer or writing things down on paper. Typing on a computer can take away the fear of permanence, while writing things down on paper can slow you down and make you experience each word more fully.

So I guess to wrap all of this up: I have a pretty fluid process, and I’m more worried about not creating at all than I am about screwing it up. Even a screwed-up work can teach you something and help you get somewhere better next time. And if you had fun making it, then maybe it wasn’t a screw-up at all! I really encourage you to soul-search on what gives you joy or excitement regarding this fic idea you have, and to hold on tight to that joy as you begin translating images in your head or outlining plot points, or something in between.

I hope something from this response helps you! <3

#Voltron #VLD #Adrenaline Rush #Fanfiction #Fanfiction writing #writing #writers of tumblr #writeblr #lightning rambles #it's hard to know how to start something #but it can be rewarding to jump into the challenge #I believe you can do it!#Best of luck on your first steps with writing fic!

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charmspoint · 3 years

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Top 5 characters that live in your head rent free 🤔

For this ask meme

Oh god ONLY five??? GOOD QUESTION. This is gonna be hard to both decide on and rank fairly uhoh lets see, this ranking his shifty as hell depending on what I’m into atm obvs

5. Tsurugi Kamiya from Servamp

Does he look like a knock off Izaya? Yes. Is he? Very much no.

Tsurugi is like my no 1 reason for getting back into Servamp, I left right in the middle of his arc and I ;-; IS HE OKAY??? DID HE GET AWAY FROM TOUMA??? DID HE BECOME WRATHS EVE??? NOBODY TELL ME I’LL FIND OUT ON MY OWN.

Servamp was one of those shows where I didn’t really have a fav main character for a good while until this guy showed up. This guy is an absolute crazy little monster I can’t overemphasize on this, his coat is used as a fucking straight jacket I’m not even kiddin

You get introduced to him and he’s scary and terrifying because he’s so strong, like he’s one of those strongest in the series characters and since he and the heroes are on semi opposing sides he is a serious threat. So you get introduced to this guy who seems borderline crazy and feral and then...you get to see him goofing off with his two boyfriends and their kid and it’s just

The domesticity!!!!Look at it!!!! It’s so fucking cute aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa, they are so cute together OT3 of C3 ftw, MY SON. Like Tsurugi had a horribly abusive childhood and was basically raised like an attack dog and his previous partner :) well he do be trying to seriously kill him don’t he. But look! He found his own little family he can be semi normal in!! Until is torn apart by his abusive adoptive father figure :D!!! I ABANDONED HIM IN THE MIDDLE OF THAT ARC AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

im sorry this got so long on this particular character none of the others will be so long i just miss him TSURUGI ILL CATCH UP FOR YOU!!!! Maybe he should have been no 1 hbjhbjh fucking sleeper agents am i right

4. Izaya Orihara from Durarara

Ah yes, the og queen bitch. Has my taste for villains ever recovered from Izaya? No. If your villain isn’t at least a bit like Izaya I’m not interested. Durarara was one of my first serious fandoms and Izaya was the first character I ever wrote for and I think you can explain me as a person if you consider Izaya was my all time fav at 13. I can’t really say anything about Izaya that hasn’t been said thousands of times before, I love how goofy and overperformative he can be, I love how there’s so much in him once you crack him open, I love how good of a villain he is for a messy story such as DRRR, puppeteer villains are really a league of their own. We need more puppeteering twinks, maybe then I’d be more into villains yaknow.

3. Hawks from Boku no Hero Academia

To no ones surprise!Him! I’ve been drifting off from BNHA recently what from catching bad case of JJK what from just reading n watching more other stuff and honestly that’s probably good because I’ve been into BNHA for a couple of years now as my main fandom and I really could have used a break. Not to say I don’t like BNHA anymore tbh I think right now BNHA is the best it’s ever been just ya know, drifting. That being said my love for Hawks will never die, god what a good boy and we got his backstory too aaa ;-;. BNHA was just like Servamp, something I liked but didn’t really have a fav character in until this random support character strolled in and won my heart. God I love how much we got on Hawks. He’s completely different from his initial impression and his unrelenting strive to do good despite being thrown from one horrible situation to the next is just ;-; HES SUCH A GOOD BOY. He’s selfless to a fault, literally putting everyone before himself and putting himself down for not being able to achieve more than is humanly possible I’m just ;-; I WANT HIM TO BE HAPPY. He just makes my heart happy, he’s good and warm and hardworking and in a manga where trauma plays such a major role in so many characters it’s so good to see Hawks there, having been through three different types of hell and still coming out unnerving in his goodness. All I want for him is to have a good life and to one day be able to smile for real.

2. Gojo Satoru from Jujutsu Kaisen

Again no surprise since I’ve been so into jjk lately. Satoru is p high up rn cuz I’m mainly into JJK now but god knows where he will actually settle. He’s not even really my favorite character in the show, that goes to Inumaki, but this is a list of who I think about the most (tho all of these characters are either no 1 or no 2 for their shows) and boy my brother and foxy can tell you I’m constantly thinking about this bitch. I didn’t really care about him that much at the start but then I got to Hidden Inventory and OH BOY MUCH TO THINK ABOUT. Satoru is such a wonderfully complex character whos evolution you can clearly follow through the years. He’s under so much pressure as the strongest sorcerer to deal with everything and he has to operate in that system trying to change it for the better while at the same time trying to make sure his students arent sacrificed in the name of that change. He has a very goofy disposition but along side with Nanamin who’s a lot more explicit about it, it’s clear he cares about mental state of his students a whole lot. He knows this world is terrible and that the will come out of it with scars and that he can’t protect them from all of it, but he balances protecting and letting them grow as much as he can. They need to grow so jujutsu society can change after all, but they also need to be protected so they don’t fuckin die before that can happen. This is without all the many many opinions I have on Hidden Inventory and SatoSugu as a whole, how they influenced each other, how differently they reacted to their shared trauma (Funny how everyone on this list is fuckin traumatized) and what resulted from it. How their fucking love story is dramatic enough to be a Shakespeare play. Also I like it when he’s long and goofy ahahah

1. Chuuya Nakahara from Bungou Stray Dogs

Not to objectify men on main but I couldn’t choose a picture

If there is ever a day when I don’t go feral over Chuuya I’ll probably be dead. He not only lives in my head rent free he owns the place.

HES SO UNDERUSED.

BSD has such a great setup with Chuuya, like he’s ex partners with the mentor of the main character who got betrayed and abandoned when the mentor left shared evil organization. Sounds like grounds for drama right? YOUD THINK SO. Like Chuuya and Dazai have such a great and interesting dynamic and you can feel how strained it is from the distance and betrayal and they bicker and fight as their defining relationship trait BUT there is such a strong underlying trust to all the fighting. These two trust each other with their whole lives and that hasn’t changed despite everything, despite how much time has passed and how much that trust had been tested. So you’d think he’d be an important character :) HES STUCK IN SUPPORT HONESTLY HES STUCK IN BACKGROUND UNLESS HES NEEDED TO DO SOMETHING COOL AAAAAA. Chuuya is literally one of a kind, I’ve never seen a character with such a good design and such an cool power and such an interesting relationship to one of the main characters and such a love and support from the fandom BE SO UTERLLY AND COMPLETLY WASTED. Even when we get Chuuya scraps they rarely build on relationship he has in canon but just throw in new random ones at him (tho that’s a broader problem of Kafka throwing new characters at the plot instead of developing the one he already has really). We get a hint of a cool fight with him? Completely cut out, More often then not it just feels like he is benched because he’s so damn strong there would just be no plot tension if he went in and broke some heads (which is also a problem with Satoru, guys stop writing op characters if you’ll just put em on the bus aaa). Anyway he’s completly and utterly wasted by the plot.

And it’s such a waste because he’s such a good character. Like he’s a member if the villain organization and is obviously by that very vicious and violent but also so empathetic and kind to people he considers his friends. He and Dazai have the brawn and brain thing going on and stg Chuuya is like the only brawn I can think of that is classier then their brain. Look at how this guy dressed, he’s high class gay, hat, choker, coat, gloves, he is bringing in the looks. I love how he can actually be completely calm and rational and put together but then put him with Dazai and it’s back to ‘we are 15 and we will scream out heads off at each other’, they are so childish.

Anyway I love Chuuya he deserves to be treated better and I will never stop screaming about Chuuya ever

#anon #lucy rants #ask game #this one was the most fun so far aaa i like to geek out #sorry it took so long anon but i had lots of fun with it <3

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muwitch · 4 years

Text

Why the Fullbringer Arc is an important plot milestone - 2

the continuation of this post and I’m bak on my bullshit~ remember my brain will jump to things

also CFYOW spoilers

so part 2/?

key figures and themes of the arc

So last time I said that ppl disliked the majority of new characters because, as opposing to the ones we grew familiar with, the arc was differently paced and so we didn’t have time at large to form some sort of solid connection to them.

And here the magic happens, because we do not have time to get attached to the characters and they seem to be faded against the background of all the others.

But apart from COMPARISON Fullbringers are quite an independent unit that focuses not on how much reiatsu you have, but on skill

In the Can't fear your own world novel the origin of Fullbringer power is revealed and it’s shown how actually universally badass those powers are, take Tsukishima for example, who grows a tree in a second to ward off lightning, simply adding himself to the past. Atomic.

For living people even just getting close to the level of those with whom they fought (three captains and three leutenants) and not dying in the first moment (except u Giriko) is a great achievement. For people who are not Ichigo Kurosaki with a family tree rivaling GoT of course.

There is another important motive associated with fullbringers, which I mentioned above, and this is LONELINESS. And it's served so brilliantly that I'm going to die now.

If you look and read carefully, it becomes clear that even the fullbringers gathered together are unusually, exasperately lonely. (See the cover? They reach out but never do truly connect) This is the curse of their power. This is their main weakness. This is their unusual humanity and kinship with the Hollows.

This is also why, but that’s my guess, their whole presentation is very lacking, to show how they fall out of everyday life and proper sozialising, so even we, as readers, cannot properly connect to them. Same reach out, but not hold symbolism. Or I am giving too much credit, we just don’t know?

Even the one who has assembled the whole group, Ginjo, is an even lonelier person who has terrible trust issues, who survived betrayal and persecution, and everything that he once believed in was set upside down. And even knowing what kind of person he is, fullbringers, driven by loneliness, followed him. (Though, we must admit, he weilds his words well and rolls +20 on persuation)

Because, although for a short time, he helped them to bear the burden of this loneliness.

Needless to say, the entire initial situation with OG fullbringers happened not only bc of some noble meddling, but also due to the fact that Ginjo gathered people to TAKE POWER FROM THEM SO THEY COULD LIVE A NORMAL LIFE

Ironically enough, each Fullbringer posesses a piece of SOUL KING, which is the source of their power and lures Hollows to pregnant mothers, which is such an important piece of information it makes me mad it was only explained in CFYOW.

Although it is understandable why Kubo chose not to focus on it during the arc. My take is he planned to show the importance of Fullbringers and their origins during TYBW, but we all know it didn’t happen.

Another common theme that follows from the previous two is PTSD, which unites the characters and key figures of the arc, and the paths of experiencing trauma constitute another conflict, where Ichigo overcomes it through friends and the return of strength and motivation, as opposed to Ginjo, who choses destuctive way to handle his own trauma.

In short flashbacks shown during “Pray for Predators” chapters, we can also clearly see PSTD practically in every person’s past. Each of Fullbringers go about it differenly, most proactive being probably Riruka and most reactive being Tsukishima and Ginjo. Which is also symbolically shown that people, who can go own with their lives and finally integrate into society stay alive. Those, who cannot, go to SS and are set into new path by more drastic measures.

I will surely attribute to the pluses how Kubo shows Ichigo's PTSD, literally in 3-4 chapters showing how he cannot, like Remarque's hero, settle in peacetime, because he constantly catches triggers, for example with his substitute badge.

Through Ichigo’s thoughts is shown how he merged with his position as a substitute shinigami and constantly thinks in categories that are not very applicable to his normal life, which he seemed to have dreamed of for 16 years And now he actually got it, but absolutely does not know what to do with it.

Kubo skillfully fuels PTSD and Ichigo's anxiety which is why he is being swayed by Ginjo's words correctly spoken at the right time.

Example: Karin speaks of his brother, they say he always fought to protect Ginjo fuels Ichigo’s doubt , saying he must act to protect his family

Accordingly, the theme approaches the climax for a push into the plot at the time of the attack on Ishida, Ichigo gets a punch in the gut twice: first from Ishida himself, who, with his unwillingness to tell things, pokes Ichigo into his helplessness and excludes him from the circle of trust, which IS the last blow

And then from Ishida's father, who by his behavior shows that Ichigo's efficiency now amounts to zero, so much so that he cannot even protect Orihime while she walks home, which is why he runs away in frustrated feelings, realizing the message. So this intro is absolutely veritable and ingenious.

And so that you understand how desperate Ichigo is, if not yet, then here is a panel where FATTEST visual forshadowing happens. And here is an absolutely genius moment to understand that Ichigo is not a child but a teenager with all that it implies

He may be battle-hardened, but this is a 17-year-old living boy with trust issues, and if we remember that through his manager's lips we are given a direct hint that Ichigo is still immature in a way, so the meaning of this arc as a stage of Ishigo's psychological maturation becomes clearer.

Just look at the face he has when Ginjo promises to return his powers (not to mention the hysterics after that) Is this a healthy person's face?

And here my hands are literally itching to start talking about Ginjo, because to give an antihero who, in addition, will have a much closer dynamics with Ichi than Urahara, plus for the duration of the arc will act as a mentor and father figure, this is just genius. Don’t @ me.

But the next plus, which will then bring us further, and this is THE Forshadowing

Everywhere, just everywhere, starting from the very first pages.

And Kubo still confuses us in the course of the narrative, but my god, when you re-read, Easter eggs are crammed almost in every chapter and I think its beautiful. Both verbal (Ginjo is such a bad actor that he has to change his memory badumts) and visual

The plus that I mentioned earlier is 100% more lively dynamics between Ginjo and Ichi, because both are people and in fact, there is much more than it may seem at first, that brings both together. And the friendly connection that they establish with each other in this arc still not 100% false placeholder. (Which is easily spotted by the way Ginjo adresses Ichigo through the arc especially last chapters).

And at the same time, they are in many ways the antonyms of each other, in age, color scheme, design, even names and also in what gives them motivation, in how they react to this or that event. For example, Ichigo is quite an emotional guy and puts his soul into everything, so to speak, then Ginjo, for example

Plus, the latter is not only skillful manipulator, but also embittered. And through such contrast, with generally the same input data, Kubo shows us that there is always a different path, leading to the topic choice, and where each specific one can lead a character.

Which absolutely doesn’t stop Ichigo from familirizing himself right off the bat and the two of them have comedy gold moments from the start. It is more lively, than being set against 300+ y.o. Urahara (whom I love as a character).

And, cross my heart Isshin is a great character, but he’s got that father of the year award, and Urahara can only give like a little itsy bitsy of information at a time only if it benefits him or a bigger picture, so the mentor’s role goes to Ginjo, which is well earned as he is technically the First Substitute.

Ginjo is a mentor, a guide, and the main antagonist of the arc, which in itself is an unexpected and interesting combination within the framework of Bleach. Here is a living example, in the moment of training he can go so far as to help Ichigo overcome his psychological barrier by simply and cruelly breaking him.

Which he does in the most painful way, through the trauma and inability of Ichigo to protect his loved ones. And from the reaction of the latter, childish and naive, his immaturity can be clearly seen (see the previous points). Although we do not know this yet, Ginjo is constantly trying to teach Ichigo one lesson that he himself learned the hard way.

Combining this with such an important praise for a teenager and faith in Ighigo’s powers, which Ichigo was deprived of for 17 months as soon as he lost his powers as a shinigami ( all relatives are trying to isolate him from this, no one believes that he can and is able to stand up for him). This is another plus of the arc, namely the whole depth of the betrayal that Ichigo experiences when the cards are revealed.

Maybe the quincy arc would go completely differently, if Ichigo felt Ishida's betrayal or reacted to the truth about his mother in a different way. Did Ginjo not temper/prepare Ichigo in the way he did, did he involuntary not strengthen Ichi internally... Who knows how Bleach would end in general.

This is to the question of the importance of this arc yes

P.S Strengthening the body also benefited Ichigo.Friendly reminder that he fights in his physical body for the entire arc except the end.

And the training episode immediately appears in a different light, right?

And in my next hot take I will focus on another really important thing which is salvation and my own bitterness of why didn’t Kubo explore the whole SS thing and now we have to fee ourselves

#bleach #bleach meta #ginjo kugo #ichigo kurosaki #fullbringers #my fingers are tired #omg i can't shut up #look at all the potential we could have #look at ginjo #this is for free

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