#the only part that i struggled with was the order in which the colors came XD

[justthoughts1310]

If you have not watched Netflix's live action ATLA yet, let me stop you right now. It is not good and it's score on rotten tomatoes is honestly too high.

However, it's far better than the 2010 Live Action movie.

I'm on episode 6 now, and as I watch, I've been trying to find the words that best describe the series.

I've struggled, but the first thing I've noticed is how all of the actors seem to walk their parts and miss the meaning and motivations of their characters all together. The only one who comes close to embodying their character is Iroh, and the only one who looks like they came from straight out of the avatar universe is the Bounty Hunter.

However, now that I'm in episode 6, I've found the word.

The series is Rushed. It's rushed. It feels that they are trying to pack as much avatar lore into the storyline as possible and they don't care what storylines or arcs they have to mangle in order to do it. It's like a really badly written fanficition or a bad spark notes recap of the OG show. I feel comfortable saying that because I've read the Kiyoshi novels (which are like fanfics) and they are EXCELLENT.

You notice this when the show starts. Aang can fly unassisted. Let me repeat. He can fly unassisted. Only two Airbenders in all of Avatar history can fly unassisted, and one hasn't even been born yet during the time Aang was trying to stop the 100 year war. This boy can fly, but we're 6 episodes in and he has not water bent once. If he hadn't turned into Kiyoshi, I wouldn't believe that he's actually the avatar.

As to not provide any spoilers, they've taken multiple storylines and mashed them together. For example, the spirt of wisdom that we meet in the library in the arc where Appa goes missing. Yeah, we meet the guy in the forest with the Panda Bear Forest spirit and then we meet Kah shortly after. As if that's not all terrible, then we are introduced to the Mother of Faces.

The mother of freaking faces! If you don't know who she is, she is not in the show. She is introduced in the graphic novel trilogy "The Search" when Zuko and Azula try to find their long lost mother.

It is my feeling that if you want to revisit a beloved show that you should work to make it better. Deepen it. Add color to it and help the audience better understand the characters insights. Take your time with it.

Netflix tries to do a little of this by providing some additional backstories, but it does this by running rough shot through literally everything else.

It even changes the characters relational dynamics with one another. For example you know how even though Sokka is the oldest, Katara very much has adopted the place of their mother? Yeah... throw that notion right out the window. Now, instead of Katara being the practical one who keeps everything on track, she's painted as the rash kid who needs to grow up and Sokka is the father figure.

Now, Zuko is kind of the beloved child even though he's been banished and Azula is seen as a nuisance to her father. Like what??????

It's actually ironic that the show removes Sokka's misogynistic nature because the show is kind of misogynistic in and of itself.

It's 6 episodes in and has already stripped three female characters of their core tenants.

1. Azula is a prodigy. She's the pride of the fire nation. Not anymore.

2. Katara is a motherly figure who is the mother of the group. She cares for everybody and keeps them on track. Not anymore.

3. Suki is a fierce and independent warrior who is not impressed by Sokka's misogyny. Now, she's a creepy woman who follows him around the entire time he's on the island until he asks to be trained by her.

When we heard that the OG creators and Netflix went different ways because of creative differences, we should have known right then and there that the live action was going to be trash.

Also, I'm going to put it out there. Considering the fact that this should be a block buster series, Netflix did not spend anywhere enough money on it, because the graphics are so cheesy and Appa looks terrible.

#atla #netflix #atla live action #sokka #katara #kataang #zuko #azula #nikelodeon #roku #kiyoshi #kah #avatar #avatar the last airbender #airbending #zaheer #legend of korra

[hockeyboysimagines]

Hello dear! I see you've had a few requests about Tkachuk but he's one of my favorites so would it be too much of a bother if I asked too? hahah (you can switch to another player if you want)

I wonder what it would be like for him to commit even more to his girlfriend (not necessarily a marriage proposal, but a hint that this was in his future plans?) I think something like, he and his girlfriend met and started dating in Calgary, she's always gotten along with his family, friends and the whole complicated hockey universe. For silly reasons, she and Matt have been fighting a little more than usual, and it all gets worse when Matthew is traded to Florida. She is afraid of moving away from her home, family and friends, especially with the uncertain way things are going in their relationship. Oh and I don't know, maybe they take a break, Matthew moves to Florida and realizes that without her with him nothing feels right? Does she feel like Calgary has lost its color without Matt there? Does she go to one of his games by suprise? Or does he go all the way to Calgary to see her? Many possible endings hahaha

I hope this is what you had in mind!

Things had never been this bad.

All couples fight, sometimes over big stuff and sometimes over little stuff. But you and Matthew were fighting over both of those things and everything in between.

It seemed there was nothing you two weren’t fighting about these days. It felt silly thinking about it, and it felt even sillier to know that it really didn’t make any sense at all. Nothing had changed really, or at least not to your knowledge, although it had been a somewhat tough year in Calgary. Always the center of hockey drama, Matthew was becoming more well known than ever at this point, and your “strong” relationship had begun to crack under the pressure. In the beginning you decided you would hang tough, because the good parts always outweighed the bad. But now you were hanging on for dear life because the bad was drowning you. Once calm waters were now raging and choppy and more than once your head had dipped below the water line.

It was exhausting.

There wasn’t really one thing or one person that was to blame. It was both of you. You’d just forgotten how to to be with eachother.

In the beginning it was sunshine and rainbows. You loved the city, his family, the other Wags, all of it. You threw yourself into his life, being every bit the supportive girlfriend you should be. And it was great. But as time wore on, you’d lost your identity and become nothing more than Matthew Tkachuk’s girlfriend. And then the rumors.

You didn’t really believe them, but they still hurt. And he saw that. He saw how much you struggled with them, so he moved you into his apartment hoping that would make things better.

It didn’t.

If anything it was worse. Every minute he wasn’t home when he said he would be you sat wallowing in your own paranoia. He started posting more photos of you on his social media in order to quell your overthinking, which only opened the door for ugly remarks on your appearance and invasion into your privacy. To him it seemed like no matter what he did, it never made anything better, just worse.

But it had come to a head when the news of his trade to Florida broke.

You’d been blindsided, having no clue it was about to happen.

He however didn’t seem as surprised.

“I didn’t tell you because I wanted to surprise you.” He said nonchalantly as he unpacked a jersey the panthers had sent him “Your gonna love Florida. It’ll be a fresh start for us and I-“ he stopped when he caught your eye and frowned “What?”

“I’m not-I’m not moving to Florida.” You said quietly. The silence in the room was the loudest thing you’d ever heard. He was standing so still he could have been a statue, but the blood creeping up his neck and across his face gave him away.

“I don’t want to uproot my life that way, especially not with how things here have been going.”

“Babe things are going to get better.” He came around the counter and grabbed your hand “I know things have been hard but-“

“No you don’t.” A tear spilled over your lower eyelid and ran down your cheek “You have no idea how hard things have been for me.”

He stepped away from you “Oh don’t I? Do you think I would do everything I’ve been for the last year if I didn’t know?”

“I didn’t ask you to do any of that-“

“I did it because I love you and I wanted to help. Clearly that wasn’t enough. You know-“ he scoffed and turned away shaking his head “No matter what I do it’s ever good enough for you. You don’t want to come to Florida, fine don’t come.”

That had been 5 months ago. It had turned into a knock down, drag out screaming match that had ended in tears and a packed suitcase. You’d stayed with your sister for a week until he’d left for Florida and you hadn’t seen him since.

You’d been keeping tabs on him though, even finding yourself smiling a little as you watched the coverage on him in Florida. You missed him, realizing now that he was what made life in Calgary colorful and great. And that maybe there was more you could have done to fix things. Maybe he was right. You’d never really appreciate me the things he’d done to make things better for you and that maybe Florida would be kinder to you than Calgary was. And now you’d never get the chance to find out. You were walking through life without really living, completely numb to the outside until a knock at your door turned things around.

Matthew was standing on the other side of your door, bundled in cold weather gear. You were both surprised and not surprised. You knew he was in town for his “return to Calgary game”, but you didn’t think you’d see him. After all it had been 5 months of complete silence between the two of you. And while you’d hoped that maybe you would run into him or fate would bring you together, you also kind of didn’t. It would be hard to see him knowing what had gone down between you.

“I forgot how fucking cold it is up here.” He walked wordlessly past you and turned to find you still holding open the door.

Before you throw me out, just listen.” He reached past you and pushed the door shut before he sighed “I acted like an asshole before, and I should have talked to you sooner but it’s taken me 5 months to realize how dumb I was being. I have no idea how hard that was for you, and I won’t pretend to. The truth it, I never even tried. I just kept putting bandaids on our problems hoping it would make it better, but looking back I think if maybe I had tried to just see things differently and understand why we started to struggle it would be different. Every time something happened I saw you pulling away and I panicked because I didn’t want to lose you, so I took another step forward with you in hopes that would are it better. And I don’t regret any of that, but I wish I had tried to get a better understanding of your feelings and for that I’m sorry.”

You pursed your lips “It’s not your fault. I appreciate your apology and as much as I’d love to let you take the blame, some of it was my fault too. I wanted so badly to just be a part of your life that I gave up my own life for it. I loved being your girlfriend and everything that came with it, and when things got tough I never appreciated your support the way I should have. I never realized that you were only trying to help because I had my head so far up my own ass I couldn’t see straight. You did a lot to help me assimilate into your life and I never thanked you. I’m sorry too.”

He smiled a little, and then a lot “I know it’s crazy. But that offer about Florida is still there if you want it. I miss you and I want you there with me.”

You felt like you were melting as you walked forward wrapping your arms around his midsection “I missed you too. And if you want me to move to Florida with you, consider it done. I’d follow you to the North Pole Matthew Tkachuk.”

“The North Pole? Are you crazy. I barely made it here without freezing. How about we start with Miami? Sound good to you?” He smiled down at you.

“Anywhere with you does.”

#my asks #hockey fanfiction #lets chat #lovely anons #nhl fanfiction #hockey tumblr #nhl fic #hockey fic #hockeyblr #hockey imagine #nhl blurb #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #nhl writing #hockey blurb #hockey tag #hockey writing #hockey fandom #matthew tkachuk #hockey x reader #hockey blurbs

[jaehunnyy]

Memento mori

Synopsis: A painful memory in which Seonghwa remembers the origin of his pink hair.

Genre: soulmate!au, severe angst

Word count: 1k

Pairing: soulmate!Seonghwa x gn!reader (feat. Yuta and Irene)

Warnings: main character death, lots of crying, mentions of a funeral, time skip, possible grammar mistakes, please lemme know if i missed anything

In a world where soulmates were a thing, Park Seonghwa didn't expect he would meet his like that.

Truth be told, he was kinda annoyed by how fast his soon-to-be partner changed hair colors—and the fact that their soulmate mark consisted in having a part of your hair in the color the other dyed theirs didn't help much. So this pushed him to make an appointment to the nearest hair salon in his neighborhood and dye his hair to make it even, again.

He got inside the building, barely noticing the other customer who sat on the chair next to the one he would occupy for the next few hours. It looked like they were also going for a big change, but Seonghwa was too excited to pay more attention to this, already explaining what he wanted to the hairstylist, who also happened to be one of his friends. He was lazily reading a magazine, while Yuta has already started bleaching his hair. The only thing that could be heard was the soft chatter of the two boys, and the occasional sounds of the utensils his friend was using; Seonghwa felt relaxed for the first time in a while.

"I can see they are still giving you trouble with the colors, but at least you pull them off." the eldest laughed, making Seonghwa roll his eyes.

"Just do your job, or I won't give you money."

Yuta pretended to be offended, he loved teasing the younger boy.

"I am literally trying, but the pink strand in your hair makes it a bit hard for me, you know?"

Seonghwa frowned as he heard the word pink. His hair was black when he arrived there, with no sign of strange, unmatchy colors.

"You have to be joking with me. There was nothing wrong with my hair."

"Then maybe you should lift your head and look in the mirror yourself."

The boy let out a silent sigh, before looking in the mirror and seeing it with his own eyes. One of the hair strands that was covering his forehead was indeed pink. Suddenly, a similar struggle caught their attention.

"I swear I applied the pink dye everywhere, Y/N. You've seen it too, and you can see well that it turned blonde now." Irene, the other hairstylist whined.

The males turned in the direction of the voices, only to realize that the person standing next to Seonghwa had the same problem. Yuta took Irene aside, smiling to her as he whispered a simple "I think we're facing a pair of soulmates here." making the girl giggle as well. Seonghwa dared to finally glance at the stranger next to him, noticing the little flaw in their hair. His lips curled into a little smile, not knowing exactly where to start from.

"Excuse me, what was your hair color before the pink?" he asked, voice a bit trembling from the emotions.

"Black." they admitted, scanning the boy in front of them.

It all made sense now. A weird way to meet his soulmate, but definitely a special one.

"I think, actually, I am pretty sure that we are soulmates," he smiled cutely, before he stuck his hand out to the beautiful person in front of him.

"I'm Seonghwa," he smiled.

They shook his hand, giving him a shy smile.

"I'm Y/N, and I would love to know more about you."

Even though things were a bit awkward at first, they agreed to start out as friends and get to know each other better, until they felt comfortable enough to make it official. Finally, the day they would meet as official lovers came, even though it felt like a lifetime for Seonghwa—though not in the circumstances he wanted it to be. He would have never expected to be at his lover's funeral that day, trying hard to stay strong for their mother, in order to comfort her.

"You're such an angel, Hwa. They would have loved to have you by their side." their mom stated between sobs, her arms tightening around Seonghwa's neck while her forehead rested on his shoulder.

This was the last straw for the boy. He started crying his eyes out, his pearly tears landing on his dark suit.

"I wish I had met them earlier…" he whispered, petting the elder woman's hair to calm her down.

"I hope you will have a happy ending in another life, honey." she gave him a sad smile before kissing his forehead, preparing to leave and give him a moment alone.

"I hope your mother is right, Y/N." he forced a smile, then wiped his tears and set the big bouquet of roses on the grave.

Deep down, he knew that this was a scar he could never cover, no matter how hard he tried. No stitches could ever repair his broken heart, but he had to be strong and live a nice life for both. He touched the pink strand of hair he never got rid of, feeling the tears forming in the corner of his eyes again.

A few weeks passed. He faced the mirror, looking at the unrecognizable person reflected by it. He really needed to get something done, so he decided to call Yuta, politely asking him to come over since he couldn't find the strength to return back to the place where it all started. He decided that a part of him will always belong to his soulmate, the lover he didn't get to cherish. That's when Seonghwa dyed his whole hair pink—a color of healing, but also one that will always remind him of the someone loving him, as much as he planned on doing while they were by his side.

#ateez fanfic #ateez seonghwa #ateez angst #seonghwa angst #ateez x you #ateez x reader #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x you #park seonghwa x reader #kpop angst #kpop imagines #ateez imagines #park seonghwa #seonghwa oneshot #seonghwa x y/n #ateez x y/n #angst #seonghwa imagines

[keitorinrose]

can you tell us about your trolls x su au or tell us the basics of the story?

Sure! There probably won't be a lot of details because there's a lot of things i still need to figure out.

The idea for the au came because i remembered the song drift away and thought "this is so floyd and branch" and then it spiralled from there. None of this is final btw. things can and probably will change because I don't make aus often. 💀 Also don't think too hard about the su part of this au. Im probably only gonna use the basic parts of it and will barely use anything from the show because I'm mostly focusing on the movie of su and not the serie and epilogue.

I currently only have the roles for the main characters so

Branch is Spinel

Floyd is Steven (but he's still the one who makes the promise with branch even though in su that was pink diamond and not steven.)

Clay is Amethyst

Spruce/Bruce is Pearl

And JD is Garnet

I want to add viva, poppy and brandy too but I don't know which characters they would be yet.

So brozone breaks up. JD, spruce and clay leave and before floyd goes he makes the promise with branch, he stays and one day he'll come back for him. Years pass by and floyd still hasn't returned. Branch's colors are becoming duller as the years go by, he starts doubting himself but never fully gives up hope.

Here's where i struggle a bit with the story because i don't have a reason yet why floyd never came back. At some point floyd reunites with the others but idk the reason yet why branch isn't part of that reunion.

Just like in the song drift away i want branch to get a message that shows floyd and the others so that he realises that he's been abandoned and that floyd broke the promise. That's when branch would go grey. (Idk if I'm adding rosiepuff in this au)

So this is when the su plot comes in. Branch comes with the injector. He fights brozone and in the process everyone gets reset except floyd. When they get reset they're back into their roles before brozone broke up. So clay is back to being the funboy, spruce the heartthrob and jd the leader. With branch i think he would act more childlike or innocent? Because im not gonna make an adult act like a baby 💀

So now floyd has to figure out how to turn his brothers back to normal. I think the order of who comes back is gonna be the same as the movie so clay->bruce->branch->JD.

Oh and the others didn't know about the promise. they didn't know that branch stayed in the garden all those years, Floyd never told them.

Have not thought yet how floyd brings them back.

After clay gains his memory back they go back to the injector and try to turn it off when they realise it's harming the land. They make it worse and now the injector is going faster(?) So they realise they NEED branch to get his memory back or else they can't turn it off.

when floyd manages to bring branch's memory back they talk and he's on their side. He removes the injector and everything seems to be going fine. It's then when branch fears he is going to be abandoned again and thinks floyd will reset him again after he removed the injector so they fight. Somewhere during that JD gets his memory back too. I think most of this part from the movie I won't change. So floyd and branch fight one to one. Floyd sings the song "change" maybe? Idk yet. Branch saying that he can't just make everything better just because he sang a song. He tries to continue fighting floyd but he tires himself out so then this scene happens

I am changing the lines though. I think something like "i just want my brothers back." Idk

I think that's all i have at the moment. I'll add more to this post if i think of anything. Most of my ideas for this au was me looking at spinel clips and thinking "oh i can draw that with branch!"

I hope this is readable because I'm writing this during midnight and am NOT good at explaining stuff. 💀

If anyone has ideas i would love to hear it! because im not good at figuring stuff out

#dreamworks trolls #trolls #trolls au #trolls x su movie au #steven universe the movie

[kirkirk]

Merch lines that might be plot relevant for Azusa (Part 1)

I love DL's lore, especially Azusa's, I think it's so complex and well-written so I thought this could be fun. I'm still playing the 5th game and I'm avoiding spoilers like the plague so my knowledge is just based on my 1829934738 Azusa theories. Please remember to be kind and take this as a fun resource/thought exercise if I'm blatantly wrong with any of my takes.

These are in no particular order, also I might do another part because there's no way I'm fitting every single plot reference here.

1. Vampire Lab Azusa

I'm starting with this one because it's one of the most obvious. They were absolutely crazy for doing it. Ignoring all of the franchise's references to human experimentation, him being the only one actually strapped (Yuma also has a straight jacket but his is open) is really interesting. Especially since the description for this set mentions 医者に反抗的な態度をとる者、(Those who show a rebellious attitude towards doctors). I can't help but think they're referencing Azusa and that's why he's strapped. Still, it could always be a reference to his struggle with mental health. The interpretation you choose is up to you.

2. Yammy Yamme X Bad Blood Azusa

He and Kanato became the family models for this one. If that isn't a big alert sign I don't know what it is. This set is themed around gamers/gamer aesthetic. What is the players' stand-in in DL? A pink bunny. What is his backpack? A pink bunny. His cap also has droopy ears that could be another reference to bunnies. If interpreted very loosely, this could mean that "Azusa carries the player on his back" and that's so freaking funny because true. Of course, I think its meaning is deeper than that.

3. Vandead Carnival LE/tokuten chibi (?)

If the player is a pink bunny I wonder what an extremely sad blue bunny would mean...

I had to do it I'm so sorry, I will die on the Azusa is a trapped player hill. (No spoilers about whether this is confirmed or refuted please 😘)

I found this one in Vandead Carnival's visual book but I don't know if it's exclusive from it or it came from elsewhere.

4. Secret Display Azusa

God I love this one so much. The sad expression, the accessories, the pins, the color scheme it's peak Azusacore on their behalf. This set is about butterfly taxidermy and that's basically a direct @ to ZERO Azusa which follows the same theme. Despite having a personal interpretation for this, I have yet to listen to ZERO Azusa's CD so I will keep it to myself. Any interpretation you give to ZERO Azusa might be reinforced/ related to this set.

5. Secret Memories Azusa

WHERE ARE YOU GOING WITH 5 BOOKS.

Hidden gifted kid Azusa is my Roman empire, I love that so much for him. It's true that you could attribute his disgusted expression to not wanting anything to do with those books, but I interpret it as him disliking being SEEN with them since he's looking at the camera and not at the books, like come on what are you doing with that many books.

I could talk about this for hours (and I have) but for now I'll be stopping here since I don't know if anyone is even remotely interested. I have enough for a few more parts so maybe I'll turn it into a YouTube video so it's more enjoyable to watch. If you have any questions or want me to expand on any of these ideas please feel free to send Asks. Just keep it spoiler free for content after Lunatic Parade please I'll be very very sad if you don't :)

#azusa mukami #diabolik lovers #diabolik lovers azusa #dialovers #diahell

[neonthewrite]

Grey Landing (Part 8)

I did it! Finally got the "Fire" prompt done, and we're back with Isaac and the giants. He's doing his best. I'm still having fun with the conlang I put together for them, so we'll just keep vibing with words that aren't translated (hopefully the vibes get across). But we at least get to some names!

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7)

(Part 9) (Part 10)

~~~

Traveling in a pocket was no simple cruise, no pleasant nighttime stroll. Isaac felt every heavy step the giant took. He rose and fell with a gait that shouldn’t be real. The pocket swung like a cramped hammock and bumped against a giant chest behind him. He didn’t see himself enjoying the sensation anytime soon, though the thought of letting the damn giants make a habit of this made him scowl briefly.

Behind him, in that broad chest, the giant cleared his throat. It sounded like a colossal growl, and Isaac flinched in spite of himself.

He looked over his shoulder and up to see the giant looking down at him. As soon as they made eye contact, the giant shifted his grip on the fish cooler he carried, propping it awkwardly against his side in order to free one hand. He only managed it for a few seconds, but it was enough to tap his own shoulder and say “Clei.”

Isaac couldn’t respond right away, instead lurching as the giant, Clei, had to regain his grasp on the cooler of fish. After the moment passed, though, he looked back up with a more appraising squint. “Clei,” he echoed, drawing out the ay a little more than he needed to. Then, he pointed at the man’s face and tried again. “Clei?”

The giant grinned and looked ahead at his companion, saying something quick and decidedly smug. The other giant scoffed and shook his head as he trudged on. Clei, however, wasn’t discouraged, and he glanced down at his pocket once more.

Isaac guessed the reason for that expectant look. He put a hand on his chest and said “Isaac.”

Clei blinked a few times. “Ay-sss … ?”

“Isaac,” Isaac replied, enunciating the soft z sound that Clei seemed to struggle with.

Clei laughed, a short, quiet sound, but before he could try again his companion barked a command at him. “Ugedal, suld plerfewn!”

Isaac hadn’t noticed, but when he looked ahead again he saw more light than just their lantern illuminating the woods. The footpath broadened into a clearing that hugged close around a truly enormous wooden cabin, the windows of which threw towering squares of light into the night. Over the clearing, the fog and some smoke from the chimney lent a hazy quality to the stars.

The construction itself was somewhat plain, with sturdy wooden walls and a gently sloped roof, creating the silhouette Isaac might expect out of a cabin if blown up to ridiculous proportions. Front steps led up to a porch canopied by some kind of netting draped overhead, though Isaac couldn’t see clearly what other decorations hung from it. The place was homey, if magnified beyond belief.

As the two fishermen trudged up those front steps, the wood creaked and echoed like it was greeting them. Once again, Isaac found himself marveling at something as simple as a sound, one so familiar and yet so strange at this scale.

From within the cabin, undeniable footsteps approached, a shadow briefly passing in front of one of the windows. Isaac tensed, turning his face away from the door just as someone within threw it open. More light spilled out over them, creating a silhouette in the doorway framed by the warm light of a lively fire blazing in a sunken hearth in the middle of the vast room beyond.

She was a stout woman, at least a head shorter than the other two giants, and a study in contrasts with them. Not only was she pale, with the firelight almost making her yellow hair glow gold, but her clothes bore multiple colors and patterns, patchworks and layers of skirts flowing around her. When she stepped back into the house to admit everyone, her cheerful smile came into the light.

“Gufnad! Clei!” she greeted as they tromped inside with their catch. She didn’t notice Isaac in Clei’s pocket, and he didn’t try to grab her attention. Instead, he looked around distractedly while the giants exchanged quick greetings.

Aside from the sunken hearth and the black iron pot hanging over its merry flames (a roaring blaze like a house going down to Isaac’s view but a cozy affair to the giant’s scale), the room sported sturdy furniture, most of it made of thick planks of the same wood that made up the cabin itself. Plush cushions adorned some armchairs near one side of the room, where a thick rug had long since given up its patterns to the passage of time and hundreds of giant footsteps. On that side of the room, doors of solid wood led elsewhere in the home.

Opposite the living area, and the giant’s apparent goal, was the kitchen and dining area. Counters lined the wall, along with a few large ice boxes. Herbs hung drying on delicate wires strung overhead, and something soaked in the basin. A few plates sat waiting on one end of the counter with some bread and cheese, along with empty bowls that would probably be filled from whatever was cooking over the fire.

Isaac noticed belatedly how fixated he was on those plates, and the simple bread on them. He winced as a noise in his middle reminded him of the persistent ache there. The scent of the nearby fish cooler in Clei’s arms had held off some of his hunger, but he couldn’t deny it completely. He was exhausted, and hadn’t eaten in far too long.

Not that he’d have a chance to inquire about the food. After Clei set his fish cooler down next to one of the ice boxes and straightened up, causing Isaac to brace himself for the lurching motions, the giant woman shrieked.

Everyone froze and looked at her. Isaac noticed with a sinking feeling that she was staring right at him, and her hands were over her mouth. “Clei, laor gre. Stei̯nd bid cras?!” Isaac could guess what she’d asked. He would ask what the hell he was too, if the positions were reversed.

He couldn’t help but feel put on the spot, though, and suddenly the cozy cabin felt much more foreboding. His hand twitched against the leather cord he’d used to tie his shield to himself. It wouldn’t be of much use at all, but if he had to, he’d go out swinging.

Clei held up his hands placatingly. “Trydi, sge,” he said, his tone much quieter, much calmer than hers, almost to the point of meekness.

The other giant (she’d called him Gufnad?) scoffed yet again. He took a step towards Clei, that customary frown on his face, and thrust a hand out, beckoning impatiently. Isaac didn’t need to understand their language to hear the very clear give it here in his barked command.

“I’d rather you not, lad,” Isaac spoke up, knowing they didn’t understand him either, but hoping his tone came across just as well. The lady giant squeaked in surprise to hear him form words, but Gufnad only narrowed his eyes.

Clei didn’t look ready to defy whatever this man was to him. Doubtful though he was, one of his hands inexorably moved to his pocket and coiled around Isaac despite his attempt to duck out of the way. There wasn’t much room for him to avoid a grab like that, and he found himself gathered up in a fist yet again. “Oi! Don’t you do it, Clei!”

Whatever Gufnad planned, though, it seemed he was going to get his way. Clei, after a beat of hesitation, muttered something before handing Isaac over.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

@not-a-space-alien

@amenarae

#gtjuly #gtjuly2023 #mywriting #gt #g/t #g/t handheld #pocketed #giant tiny #handheld #giant sailor #language barrier #isaac grey #clei cefniad #gufnad #trydi #I forgot to add the pings in the original ACK

[callsign-relic]

This isn’t my usual kind of writing (that I post here anyway), but I saw this amazing piece of artwork (linked below) and after rewatching Predacons Rising I was really inspired to write something based on it. Enjoy our big man Optimus feeling small for once in the presence of big boy Primus himself :)

(I did want to make this longer but my motivation sadly disappeared :( I do think this is good for what it is though :))

Optimus’ senses were all slowly coming online.

At least, that was what he assumed was happening. First there was that thrumming of his spark in its chamber. A deep, sonorous hum filled his processor, and the Prime knew his audials must have activated by then. The mech flexed his digits, and slowly, feeling spread itself along the rest of his worn frame.

Then, when his optics finally came online, he witnessed a sight like no other unfolding itself before him.

He was in the depths of deep space, yet rushing past him were countless lights, zooming past him in every direction, in numbers he couldn’t begin to count. Each little light glowed with a faint color of their own, and Optimus’ optics struggled to process such a harmonious symphony of color with merely his own two optics.

As he looked down onto himself, he noticed the rainbow of lights reflecting off of his old plating. And as he flexed one servo, and then another, the mech raised his vision upwards into the churning current of lights above him as memories of the last few moments all rushed into him at once.

Unicron.

The Autobots.

The Well of All Sparks.

White.

Optimus had sacrificed his own spark in order to free the sparks trapped within the AllSpark. If that remained the case, he must have been truly one with the AllSpark by now.

So, if that was the case, how was it that he could still see his mechanical frame? Why wasn’t he another mere spark, joining the current with his brethren into worlds unknown?

A sudden bright light appears before the Prime before he could ponder the question. Optimus squints and raises a servo to shield his optics, yet when his optics cycle themselves and adjust to the gently dimming light, he no longer finds it in him to block his vision.

A gigantic figure appears before him. Plating made of pure, golden light, shining itself out and giving this being corporeal form. A halo wraps itself behind his head, circles appearing like their own dwarf planets encircling it. The mech-like being wears a faceplate and blank, yet knowing optics. It’s finials defy all sense of logic and separate themselves into ever shifting pieces along either side of his helm. Fractals of light jitter about the edges of his form, yet Optimus can make out just about every part of this being that makes him Cybertronian. Sturdy helm, wide chassis, and, of course, the massive servos that lift themselves up from behind the Prime, gently cupping him within the bigger mech’s hold.

“The Thirteenth,” the titan begins. His voice is hollow and echoes through the kaleidoscopic tunnel in which they stand, yet it shakes Optimus to the very core of his spark. The smaller mech finds himself breathless. “Orion Pax. Optimus Prime.”

“You…” Optimus can barely manage to piece together his words as the reality of whom he was facing finally began to hit him. “You are… Primus?” He asks, though there is no questioning lilt to the end of his words.

The golden being gives a mere nod.

In that very moment, Optimus inclines his head deeply, and kneels. “It is a true honor to stand before you, my creator,” he professes as his helm is hung low. Then, he raises his helm back up, if only to properly address Cybertron’s god. “To what do I owe the great privilege of getting your audience?”

“Rise,” Primus’ voice gently commands, and Optimus obliges him. As he speaks, his voice is low and soft, yet still emits a commanding air that no creature— Cybertronian or otherwise— could ever hope to find it in themselves to defy. “Optimus Prime. You have done not only myself a great service, yet the entirety of Cybertron’s people.”

Optimus stands tall as Primus continues. Not out of arrogance, not in the slightest— but out of the innate compulsion to take in every last feature about the god.

“You have committed the ultimate sacrifice. In exchange for your own life, you not only saved my own, yet saved the future of the Cybertronian race in and of itself.” The hands behind Optimus raise themselves higher, and Optimus can’t help but flinch forwards the smallest bit as they gently bump into him. He’s enveloped entirely by that golden light, the pure warmth of the servo behind him washing away any possible fears or doubts. Optimus is raised gently within Primus’ palms, and the creator god gazes down at him with an emotion the Prime can only describe as love.

“And for that, I must thank you.”

#Transformers #Transformers prime #TFP #Optimus prime #TFP Optimus #Transformers writing #Transformers fanfic #Transformers fic #relic writes

[dilf-whore]

the guitar salesman

pairing: eddie munson x gn!reader

genre: fluff

summary: you meet the handsome worker at the guitar store

A/N: i really like the idea of eddie working at a guitar store in starcourt so i made this. send in your thoughts/comments on this fic, reblogs are also appreciated 🫶🏻

requested: no

requests are OPEN

masterlist

𖤐

You enter Starcourt mall and prance to the guitar store, gripping on your pocket where your wallet is as you do so. You excuse yourself and bump into a few people along the way - your eyes are glued on the store. The adrenaline flowing through your body as you get excited to get an electric guitar you were saving on for the past year, the idea of getting to hold one and finally be able to learn how to play gets you all giddy and thrilled.

You’ve reached your destination and step inside. You look around like a lost puppy as you get overwhelmed by the many guitars displayed, you don’t know where to go first - they’re all so pretty. Your fingers brush over the strings of the guitars as you walk farther into the store. Which one should I get? you thought.

“Looking for something?” You hear a voice from behind. You lightly jump and face the person, it was the store’s salesperson - a handsome one to be precise. He’s wearing a plain white polo and some pants for his uniform. He has long, black, and puffy hair that really suits him, he has pretty doe eyes that makes you want to stare at them forever, he also has a distinct smell- mainly cigarettes and a hint of Old Spice Classic cologne. He’s definitely a sight for sore eyes.

You push a few strands of hair behind your ear, “I, uh, I’m not really sure on what I want exactly, didn’t realize that there’s many kinds of guitars. I have no idea how to play, what would you recommend for beginners?” you ask, shying away at the man’s melting gaze. “Ah! come over here. This one’s a Fender standard stratocoaster, it’s great for beginners like you”. He points at the shiny electric guitar that came in three different colors: black, red, and blue. “How much is it, uhm, Eddie” you ask, looking over at the name tag on his chest.

“We have a promo for for this month, $448 and it already has all the things you’ll need: amplifier, amp cord that’s already 10 meters long, high quality guitar bag with a cushion inside for extra protection, leather strap, and a box of guitar picks” he says, picking up the displayed guitar and showing you it’s features. “And uh…”

“Y/N”

A huge smile forms on Eddie’s face, “what a nice name for someone cute like you. And as I was saying, if you take this you’ll also get free lessons - by me”, he meets your eyes and your cheeks grow warm, if it was a different person, you’d probably reject them but how could you deny an offer given by this stunning man? You take in a chunk of air from the butterflies suddenly going crazy in your stomach.

“So this is how you get people to buy huh? With flattery” you playfully ask.

“Oh no, the teaching lesson is only for you, sweetheart”

“Well, don’t wanna waste that special offer now do we?. I’ll get the black one” you reply, his sugary words has taken over you. “Great! let me get you a new stock and the other inclusions” he jogs to the storage room and picks up your order, his smile never leaving his pretty face.

He comes back after a while, his whole body towered by your things, stumbling as his vision is almost covered. You giggle at Eddie’s struggling steps but thankfully he’s able to settle them on the counter safely. He manually writes your items down on a receipt, groaning at the broken cashier register. After giving your payment, Eddie takes out your guitar and tunes it.

“So first I’ll show you its parts, these are called frets, yours have 22. And then, these strings are: E, A, D, G, B, E from the thickest to the thinnest” you listen as he points over the different parts of the guitar, where to plug the amp cord, where the pickup switch, volume and tone controls are. “Let’s see if it sounds okay, what kind of music are you into?” he asks.

“I like listening to heavy metal, you?”

Eddie’s body perks up, his eyes sparkling, “I like heavy metal too! Do you know Dio? Want me to play a song by them?” he replies with enthusiasm.

“I love Dio! can you play Rainbow In The Dark?”

He eagerly nods and starts playing, you look at him with awe and your mouth slightly open, He’s so good. Eddie strums the strings with so much ease and his fingers effortlessly moving from one chord to another - it was attractive, his rings and tattoos makes it even more attractive. After he finishes the first two riffs of the song, he takes your guitar and pack it up along with the rest of your things. Eddie then asks you to sign the receipt and he does the same. He hands it to you and you take your stuff, you look down on the piece of paper and see that Eddie wrote his number at the bottom right.

“Call me when you want to start your guitar lessons - or if you just wanna talk to me because I want to talk to you again” he says, leaning on the counter and resting his chin on his palm.

“I definitely will. Thanks Eddie” you wink.

𖤐

#stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things headcanons #stranger things headcannons #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things scenarios #stranger things oneshot #stranger things blurb #stranger things fic #stranger things s4 #stranger things fluff #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson headcannons #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fic #eddie munson scenarios #eddie munson fluff #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn fic #fluff #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you

[moonshinemusings]

General John "Soap" MacTavish headcanons (Pt.1)

Warnings: slight mentions of canon typical violence, mentions of PTSD, anxiety and sensory issues

A/N: My head is full with so many dumb ideas but I kept it mostly serious here lol

• He flirts with everyone when he's drunk, and yes, that includes his teammates (once Price wanted to count how many times he hit on Ghost during the night, but eventually gave up)

• His favorite color is green

• Would totally own a motorcycle that he takes good care of. He has a knack for mechanical stuff and often repairs vehicles they use on missions

• Has a sweet tooth and others often tease him about it. If they let him, he could probably eat a whole cake by himself (and whine how bad his stomach hurts afterwards)

• Most of the time he's dealing well and he keeps himself together, but sometimes his emotions break through the surface. He rarely cries, but when a wave of PTSD or lethargy hits him, the tears flow without resistance. He powers through his emotions though, and he knows his teammates are always there to support him if he needs them

• His anxiety isn't as bad as some others, but from time to time he struggles with staying calm and rational. These incidents usually happen when he overthinks missions or panics when someone gets injured, but someone is always there to help him calm down

• Most likely he has some sensory issues too, but only with very specific things that he fortunately doesn't often counter every day

• Often takes pictures while working out. Mirror selfies are his go-to, but videos of him doing push ups or lifting weights is also in order

• He was never that good at school, that's partly why he chose to serve in the military

• His music taste is really inconsistent. He listens to rock most of the time, but then he suddenly switches to pop songs and country out of nowhere. The worst part? He knows a bunch of country songs and will sing along loudly. Ghost thinks it's atrocious, especially with his accent

• Hug lover, an enthusiast if you will. He's a touchy-feely guy to begin with, but he loves hugs more than any other kind of touching (bet he has the warmest and most comfy ones)

• He's afraid of spiders. He likes to say he's not afraid of mundane things like animals, but spiders send shivers down his spine (once Price had to take one out from his bag because he was too afraid to touch it. No, they don't talk about it.)

• In his younger years he experimented with different hairstyles and colors. For a while he rocked a mullet, then came the idea of the mohawk that stayed ever since. He's had green, red and blue hair once, but never kept them longer than a few weeks

• As much as he acts like it annoys him, he likes dad jokes and those really bad ones Ghost usually comes up with

• No musical talent whatsoever, but that won't stop him from singing when he's drunk or when his favourite songs come up

• Has thought about getting more tattoos, but couldn't decide what to ask for so he never got them

• His favourite meal of the day is breakfast. Don't know why, don't ask, I just feel like he would be a breakfast "I stuff my face with calories in the morning" type of guy

• A morning bird, which used to annoy the shit out of Ghost because he was too cheery for someone who was awake at like 5 AM

• He's a deep sleeper, once he's safe and asleep even a bomb won't wake him up. He can fall asleep anywhere too. Once he conked out on the plane on the way to a checkpoint and Ghost has never let him live it down ever since

• We know that he used to play football, but he was also good at every other sport (except maybe gymnastics). He loved basketball, but he was always teased about being too short to reach the nets. That didn't stop him from scoring though

• He used to go to a lot of concerts with his friends. He's totally the type of guy to have a girl on his shoulders so she can see better

• He's not a womanizer by any means; he's only ever had one serious relationship and that didn't last too long either. He had a few one night stands, but he doesn't really seek any relations outside of his work related ones

• As a kid he used to have those sticky glow in the dark stars on his ceiling/wall

• He can't keep plants alive for the life of him

• His favourite season is spring because he's not too cold but not too hot either. The weather is perfect for his morning jogs

• He might seem egotistical sometimes, but in reality he just loves basking in the attention he gets. And he knows he looks good, so why wouldn't he talk about it

• It's not easy to rile him up and he's good at keeping his cool, but when he's frustrated or downright angry you better hope he doesn't attempt to fix the situation with fists instead of words

• Others might tease him for being stupid sometimes, but he's actually smart. Not academically smart, but street-smart if you know what I'm talking about

• In the future, he wants to have children of his own. In the present he focuses on his job and takes it very seriously, since it's the most important in his life next to his family. But he doesn't shy away from the thoughts of retiring and settling down with his children and a wife

• He enjoys cartoons in some situations. He knows they are dumb and not even funny, but after difficult missions he likes to have them as a background noise or something that can take his mind off the things that happened

• He has two older sisters, so has a lot of experience living with women. Once they waxed his arms as a joke, but he kind of liked it. They settled on an agreement after that: whenever they were all home and had the time, they would do it for him again if he wanted

• Also, because of that his room is also one of the cleanest out of everyone. He keeps everything organized and tidy, and doesn't like when his stuff is out of order

#cod #call of duty #cod mw2 #mw2 #modern warfare2 #john mactavish #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #headcanons #soap headcanons #john mactavish headcanons

[canmom]

Animation Night 157: Hungary

Jó estét mindenkinek! Eljött az Animációs Éjszaka ideje.

Good evening everyone! It’s time for Animation Night.

Hungary!

Tonight I’m going to continue the grand tradition of ‘copying Aniobsessive-senpai’s homework’, and take us to visit the ‘Hungarian school of animation’, aka magyar rajzfilmiskola. They were a bunch of experimental weirdos from the period when Hungary was ruled Much like the Zagreb School from across the border in Croatia (AN 136), who were a biiiig influence, they launched away from the midcentury UPA style and experiments like Yellow Submarine to make something unique.

The best known Hungarian animated film is Son of the White Mare (1981) directed by Marcell Jankovics. Lemme quote Aniobsessive:

[White Mare] is hard to compare to other animated features. Marcell Jankovics and his team used Hungarian folk art and folk tales as the basis for a huge, mind-expanding, psychedelic adventure movie. It tells an accessible story in an art-house style — 90 minutes of searing colors and spellbinding patterns, with each character in a state of constant transformation.

This film was wildly influential, reaching people like Genndy Tarkovsky to form a big part of the DNA of Samurai Jack. But White Mare didn’t spring out of nowhere.

The 20th century for Hungary was, to put it mildly, a rough time. Here’s a really really brief version. In World War I, Hungary was part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, which lost the war hard and basically collapsed. In the resulting power vacuum the country was separated from Austria and went through a brief communist revolution which fell to a monarchist counterrevolution; the monarchists surrendered to the Entente in 1920 and gave up most of the country’s land. In the new peace, the new monarchy set about their agenda of ‘doing antisemitism’, which predictably got a great deal worse in the 30s following the great depression and the rise of Hitler nearby.

So in WWII, Hungary sided with the Axis. They joined Hitler in invading the USSR, and got pretty much crushed. The Hungarians started negotiations to break from the Axis and surrender, but Hitler noticed and quickly ordered his soldiers to occupy, appointing a Nazi governor; at this point the Holocaust in Hungary kicked up a gear and the Nazi-backed Hungarian government deported hundreds of thousands of Jewish people to the death camps. To brush over a messy story, within a year the Soviets counter-invaded and destroyed the fascist government, establishing Hungary as in the Soviet sphere of influence in the aftermath of the war. The Hungarian communist party, which had existed despite its ban during the war, joined forces with communists from Moscow... uneasily.

After briefly playing with elections, the Soviets reorganised Hungary as a single-party Leninist state. The new government set about the whole show-trials-and-purges-and-statues-of-the-leader routine, attacking his rivals as spies in the pocket of the Americans, or maybe Big Trotsky. A lot of messy intra-party politics took place while the country struggled economically, attempting to copy Stalin in dismantling the peasants and building heavy industry. In the 50s, a certain prime minister Imre Nagy won popularity by relaxing some of the state control and closing labour camps and so forth, but this put him at odds with Moscow, and he was attacked as a right-deviationist and driven out of politics. But not for long...

(Did you think that was an end to the antisemitism btw? Lmao no of course not. In 1953 the government tried to frame three random Jews for the abduction of Raoul Wallenberg, a Swedish industrialist who saved thousands of people during the Holocaust, who in reality died in a Soviet prison. That whole affair abruptly stopped when Stalin died.)

In 1956 it all came to a head with the ‘Hungarian Revolution’, started by students, which like all such uprisings was messy but broadly was pro-Nagy and anti-Soviet. Nagy, who had only recently been returned from political exile in the wake of the ‘Khruschev Thaw’, took control of the party with his allies. He went so far as to announce that Hungary might even withdraw from the Warsaw Pact. ‘Excuse me?’ said Khruschev, and sent in the Red Army tanks to remove Nagy and his supporters, killing about 20,000 people in the process. This is one of the two incidents that led to the coinage of the word ‘tankie’, originally meaning someone who defended Khruschev’s intervention.

The next guy, János Kádár, started out by attacking the participants in the 1956 uprising, but changed his tune and declared an amnesty in the 60s, establishing a relatively relaxed set of policies nicknamed ‘Goulash Communism’ which encouraged foreign trade and consumerism. As such, it’s this period where Hungary started making a bunch of animated films.

Because yeah this is a post about cartoons actually!

In the 60s, Hungarian animators - funded by the state - were following in the footsteps of the Zagreb School, with its unique approach to timing and design philosophy. But eager ot put their own spin on it, they started introducing bright colours and textures to the UPA style, in films like Duel (1960) and Ball with White Dots (1961).

In 1968, Sándor Reisenbüchler, a colleage of Jankovics at Pannonia Film Studio with a wildly improvisational method, released his first short film The Kidnapping of the Sun and Moon, created with the assistance of his wife. The film is an absolute riot of shapes and colours, all relating a story of a many-headed dragon which devours all the stars until a hero comes to slay it. For Reisenbüchler it’s an anti-war metaphor. Despite being controversial back home, the government eagerly started spreading it abroad in Russia and US alike as a symbol of cool shit being made in Hungary.

Reisenbüchler would go on to make many more films, such as The Year of 1812 (Az 1812-es év) in 1972, but he’d still hold a special place in his heart for Kidnapping.

The British film Yellow Submarine dropped in 1968, and sent major waves into both Hungary and Yugoslavia. For Hungarian artists like Jankovics, it was the inspiration they needed to find a third pole of animation, distinct from both the Disney tradition and the UPA style. He appreciated the space it offered for inconsistency - character designs would no longer need to be identical in every shot, the messiness could be part of the style.

In 1973, Jankovics directed the first feature-length Hungarian animated film, titled Johnny Corncob (János Vitéz). Based on an 1845 epic poem, it tells the story of the worldwide adventures of a young soldier separated from his over, completed over a period of 22 months at Pannonia. The film was a huge undertaking, and its style is unlike pretty much anything before or since, with something of a Western flavour, and uniquely Hungarian outfits...

The next year, Jankovics released a much smaller project, the two-minute long Sisyphus. Jankovics was determined to constantly reinvent his style, lest his films get lost in the shadow of the ones before.

In contrast to the bright colours and textures, Sisyphus, completed in just six weeks, keeps things about as simple as possible: pure black and white silhouettes with a brush texture. Most of the 1800 drawings were by Jankovics himself, and much of the rest by Edit Szalay, who would soon become a key part of White Mare. Into the myth of Sisyphus, Jankovics channeled his own struggles with the nigh impossible task of creating the country’s first animated film. And this film proved wildly popular, running around the world from Yugoslavia to Iran. It threatened to overshadow everything else Jankovics did, and so he changed his style up completely for White Mare.

As the 70s went on, the films just got more experimental. Honeymation (Mézes-táncos) in 1975, directed Ferenc Varsáyani, decided to do a stop motion film entirely with gingerbread people. It was photographed by Gábor Csupó, who would later leave Hungary to America and co-create the Rugrats series. Eventually he would reunite with Varasáyani who would come to work on Rugrats too...

The 70s also saw the wildly popular TV series Rabbit with Checkered Ears, dir. Zsolt Richly and written by Veronika Marék. The two became friends while writing for a childrens’ magazine, and that magazine style would adapt perfectly to depict the clumsy, floppy rabbit. In a big cabin in the yard of Pannonia, Zsolt Richly oversaw the creation of the series for years. You can read more about the story here.

And of course this whole thing was a massive success in both Hungary and pretty much everywhere else, launching both into animation. The floppy plush main character reminds me a little of Marumi from Paranoia Agent, but this one isn’t so sinister. It’s just a very cute bunny in an appealing style. All the episodes are entirely wordless, relying on the expressive movement and music to convey the story. This person seems to have uploaded the full series on Youtube, albeit not really organised into a playlist, so check it out ^^

As then we enter the 80s, Jankovics got the studio working on their biggest project, Son of the White Mare, bringing all these threads together into one massive project, the magnum opus of the Hungarian school at large. So that’s what we’re going to watch tonight! A whirlwind tour of Hungarian animation’s important short films, and Son of the White Mare. (I would show Johnny Corncob as well, but it’s late and it’s proving slow to download, so another week.)

Eventually of course the Soviet Union fell, and Hungary’s Leninist state apparently transitioned to a regular capitalist one relatively gently. Pannonia continued to function, making films up to around 2011 with the final film of Jankovics, The Tragedy of Man, but ultimately closed its doors in 2015. Jankovics himself passed away in 2021. I would love to investigate some of this later Hungarian animation, but I’ll have to save that for another day...

And so! Animation Night 157 will go live in just a minute at twitch.tv/canmom, and I plan to begin showing films on the hour (22:00 UK time)! I’d love to see you there!! Let’s check out a corner of animation history that is far too unknown, and watch a film that’s said (by someone somewhere) to be one of the best animated films of all time...

#animation night #hungarian animation #very much 'writing about what i have sources for' here - don't take this for a complete overview by any means

[fandoms-are-my-friends-1321]

Jeffrey x Male Reader Headcannons

I am finally getting around to posting this, and I apologize for it taking me so long! Between working all summer every day to my university classes, I am a very busy person, but being able to take a breather and write these headcannons may help me!

Description: Some general headcannons for Jeffrey and a male reader, mostly how they get to the dating phase and what happens once they start dating

Warnings: Slight causing, otherwise just cuteness overload

I think that Jeffrey’s expression above embodies how a lot of the instances are going to go when he sees the reader for the first time

He is nervous and startled by how handsome the reader is, bamboozled if you will

There are two places where the reader and Jeffrey likely met, either at work for the Baroness or in one of her many shops

If it was in the shop, the day would start like any other for Jeffrey. The Baroness had sent him on a daily check to one of her busiest stores, and Jeffrey took pride in making sure that everyone was in line

He would be talking to the front desk worker about orders and how business had been holding up, eagerly scribbling notes to take back to the Baroness

But then the reader walked in, wearing the most dashing suit imaginable, and Jeffrey would drop his pen from how flustered he was

As the reader wandered around the shop, admiring the latest tie design or a new suit jacket, Jeffrey would quickly finish up his work before scattering to the back room of the store to catch his breath

There is definitely a small part of Jeffrey that wants to be confident, but after being made fun of by the crushed he had before, the fear of messing up always stopped him

Then again, the more Jeffrey saw the reader as he nervously peaked out the window at the top of the back room door, it’s almost as if his feet carried him off on his own

Before he knew it, Jeffrey stood before this gorgeous man, but he was sweating so much and his face surely looked darker than a tomato by now

“E-Excuse me, sir, but would you like some help finding anything?” Jeffrey would stutter, mentally slapping himself for being so timid

The reader would smile as he turned towards Jeffrey, obviously a bit more confident than him. “Now that you mention it, which tie looks better? The emerald or the periwinkle?”

Oh how Jeffrey adored the smile from the get go

Fashion was Jeffrey’s wheel house, and he knew that too, so in a moment of bravery he spoke up. “Actually, neither would look good.”

The reader may be a bit startled by this, and yet there was something about Jeffrey’s tone that made him wonder. “Oh yeah? What would you suggest then?”

Jeffrey would reach for a gold tie and drape it around the reader’s neck. “This gold tie looks good with most suit jacket colors, but especially blue and brown suits. However, the key here is that this tie will bring out the color of your eyes and match your confidence. It would only make sense to buy this one instead of the others.”

Jeffrey really hoped he didn’t sound like a know it all, but how else would he even begin to impress a guy as handsome as this?

“Oh, why didn’t I think of that!” The reader would explain as he ran a had through his hair with a lopsided grin. “What’s your name? I really should thank the man whose helping me in an area that I honestly struggle in.”

“It’s Jeffrey, sir, and it’s really no trouble at all. Working for the Baroness has its perks when it comes to fashion.”

The reader would beam as he offered a hand for Jeffrey to shake. “I’m Y/N, and I think I may just have to call you the next time I need clothing advice.”

From there, the reader would stop by the shop every time that Jeffrey would be there, and they would talk about fashion and their own lives as the romance between them slowly builds

As for meeting at work, it is a bit more straightforward

The reader was a new designer for the Baroness, a man of great renowned when it came to designing men’s dress shirts and slacks

No matter the color combination, Y/N knew how to make an outfit work

Jeffrey, being an aspiring designer himself, could not resist Y/N’s confident charm

One day as Jeffrey walked by Y/N’s desk, he noticed that he was struggling with a latest design

“The gold lining on the pant cuffs has always worked for me before, so why the hell isn’t it working now?” Y/N mumbled to himself as he gripped his pen with frustration

Jeffrey stopped in his tracks and hesitantly walked over towards Y/N. “P-Pardon my intrusion, Mr. L/N, but have you considered putting the gold lining on the cuffs of the sleeves instead of the pants?”

Jeffrey expected Y/N to yell at him for being so stupid, maybe even have him fired, but as Y/N reworked his sketches, a grin spread across his face

“Oh my goodness, this is brilliant! Why didn’t I think of this before? What’s your name again?”

“Jeffrey, and I d-don’t want you to think that I thought your first design was awful. Y-You don’t have to take my suggestion.”

But Y/N wanted to use Jeffrey’s idea, and from there, Jeffrey offered Y/an advice whenever he needed it

The more these two designers interacted, the more in love they fell with each other

For both scenarios, the reader would likely ask Jeffrey out because he is so shy, but of course he would say yes to the reader (amidst a blushing fit of course)

And what better way to seal their love than with a kiss, which would be difficult at first from how stiff and awkward Jeffrey is, but the Y/N always put Jeffrey at ease eventually

If the Baroness found out Y/N and Jeffrey were dating, she would probably be surprised that the man who was making her so much money would date someone like Jeffrey

Then again, she probably wouldn’t think on it too much either

“Jeffrey, did you say you had a date with Y/N? My top suit designer?”

“Y-Yes, Ms. Baroness, it’s our 6 month anniversary today.”

“Oh, how quaint,” and then the Baroness would zoom across the room to yell at one of the workers for trying to put silk on a new dress

Needless to say, the beginning may be awkward, but Jeffrey is a strong and willing lover who would give the world to make the reader happy, and as long as he can hold the man of his dreams in his arms, then Jeffrey is content

Tags: @specswhannell

#Jeffrey Cruella #Jeffrey 2021 #cruella 2021 #cruella movie #Jeffrey x reader Cruella #jeffrey Cruella headcannons #jeffrey x reader headcannons #cruella de vil #the baroness #I am so sorry that this took so long #university classes have been awful #but it is finally done now #and I hope that you enjoy!

[pahrak-the-sinnoh-slizer]

[Games in 2023: Ghost Trick: Phantom Detective]

I was pleasantly surprised when the Switch port of Ghost Trick was announced: under-appreciated DS games are kinda my thing, this game’s stylized look conveyed a real sense of personality, and I’ve only ever heard good things from people who have played it.  “Why have I never played this before??” I asked myself, wracking my brain for the answer.  Then I played the demo and remembered “Oh yeah, I suck at puzzle games.”  But despite that, I still really wanted to see where things went, and boy am I glad I did!

Spoiler-free tl;dr: Ghost Trick is a wonderfully engrossing story about whacky characters uncovering insane plot twists that all build towards a satisfying and heartfelt conclusion.  I would recommend going in as blind as possible, but even without shock, the game is easily clever and fun enough to be a fantastic experience.

(Also content warning for animal death; the game is all about undoing deaths so it’s not permanent, but it can still be distressing to see it happen.)

The premise of Ghost Trick is simple yet creative: you play as a newly-dead ghost who has completely lost his memory, and must use your ability to possess and manipulate objects to solve this mystery and save the lives of the many characters you meet along the way.  The full narrative is anything but simple by the end, but I felt it was a steady, easy-to-follow escalation—though I have been told I have a high tolerance for plots involving time travel, so a grain of salt might be in order.  In my opinion it’s not especially hard to keep track of the game’s time shenanigans since you only ever go back 4 minutes before a person’s death to influence the situation in a way to avert their fate…until the very end, where you do learn a lot in a short time, and I could see a player struggling with that.

The style of the game really is impeccable.  Characters have very unique designs with bright colors and expressive actions, making it hard to mix anyone up despite how many people you meet over the course of the game.  Everybody makes a strong impression, and it’s easy to care about them and want to save their lives and find out how they tie back to the overall plot.  The connections between various characters are a bit tighter than you might expect going in, and it’s so much fun to steadily piece things together, each answer leading to only more questions.  There’s a point about halfway from which plot twists start to come one after the other, but instead of piling up, they come together, all building towards the same goal in a masterful manner.  It’s a very hard game to put down.

So, those puzzles!  I have to admit I was hesitant after struggling for the better part of an hour on one in chapter 2, but in the end I was able to solve all of them without looking up any answers!  It came real close a few times, and there was definitely an occasion or two where I stumbled into the right answer without realizing it, but hey, it counts.  The hints provided do a good job of leading you to the solution without just stating it, and can easily be ignored by players who don’t want their process interfered with.  I feel like I started to do a lot better once I started expecting I wouldn’t get everything right first try—don’t be afraid to do some trial and error.  The mechanics are sound: an item will clearly tell you how you can manipulate it if you can, and what items can be possessed are all easily identifiable whenever you enter the ghost world.  The trick (heh) most often is in getting the timing right, as you have a very limited range to “jump” between objects and can miss your chance completely if you don’t act fast while objects are in motion.  You’re explicitly taught this very early on, of course—the tutorial is very nicely structured, giving you all the information you need while a puzzle is unfolding around you with all the moving parts and tension you can expect all throughout the game.  The prison escape sequence stands out as a one-off with unique mechanics; it can be frustrating, as escort missions tend to be, but if you take it one step at a time it’s not too bad.  The only major addition to the basic structure is towards the end of the game where you gain a second ghost who can reach much farther, but in lieu of manipulating objects, he instead swaps the position of objects with the same shape.  It may only affect a handful of puzzles, but I think there’s a benefit to giving the player time to fully master the core mechanics before adding this new layer to things, and the possibilities it opens are well-utilized when they do come into play.  What tripped me up most often was needing to move each ghost to different objects out of each other’s way, since they can’t inhabit the same object; a minor annoyance, and quite possibly a skill issue on my part.

That’s essentially all there is to say on a mechanical level, so let’s talk more about the narrative.  The tone is largely playful but not afraid to be serious when it needs to be—you’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll be aghast in horror, etc.  Again, the plot is continually escalating and building more and more tension, quickly becoming too fascinating to put down, and the fact that it manages to stick the landing is no small feat.  It seems to me the moral of the story is selflessness: every character is shown to be in the wrong when only serving their own interest, yet when they do something with others in mind, the narrative consistently rewards them.  Sissel says his only real goal is finding his own memory, but what makes him the hero of this story is his willingness to use his abilities to solve others’ problems.  Cabanela is painted in a villainous light when it seems he cares only about his career ambitions, but when we find out this was a means to the end of helping Jowd, he’s presented as unequivocally a good guy.  Jowd may say he’s so eager to take the fall for Kamila’s sake, but when Sissel calls his methods out as ultimately selfish, he changes course and takes on an active role in resolving the night’s many mysteries.  Yomiel obviously embodies the selfishness the story is speaking against, but in the end, he makes the choice to do something selfless, and the narrative rewards him with a second chance. (More than that, the game wouldn’t have happened at all had he not brought Sissel with him to the junkyard; while perhaps not entirely selfless, I think it’s important to note that Yomiel’s path to a better future began with his desire to not leave his only friend all alone.)  It’s really cool to see this theme reflected in so many different ways across the cast!  And of course, the one who embodies the virtue of selflessness above all else is the top Pomeranian himself, Missile!  The very first time we meet him, he basically ignores the fact that he’s dead and instead prioritizes saving Kamila.  After he develops his powers, he makes the decision to remain dead so that he can use those powers to help Kamila and Lynne.  And at the very end we learn that he went back in time 10 years, and while waiting faithfully that entire time, he devised a brilliant and complex strategy to ensure Sissel’s cooperation in saving his family once and for all.  “Because that’s what doggies do!”  This whole wild ride that ends up saving so many lives was all possible purely due to the awesome, selfless love of a dog.  That’s beautiful.

It’s hard to think of any major criticism.  Ghost Trick is just really, really good.  It may be a few years overdue, but I’m really glad I finally got to experience this game!

#Ghost Trick #Games in 2023 #Game Night

[talonslockau]

Fire and Ice - Chapter 5

Chapter 4 || Index || Chapter 6

The air was still as Ravenpaw’s words echoed through camp. And then, all at once, the Clan erupted into shocked yowls, denials, accusations, and demands rising into a tremendous cacophony.

“Silence!” Bluestar’s caterwaul hushed them all. “How did this happen, Ravenpaw?” By the rising fur on her own back and her lashing tail, it was clear she was equal parts shocked and furious at this announcement.

Ravenpaw opened his mouth as though to reply, but no words came out. After a moment, his eyes rolled back, and he lurched to the side, falling down onto the hard earth of camp. Immediately, a queen of many colors pushed her way through the crowd to nuzzle at the fallen apprentice.

“Spottedleaf! Someone get Spottedleaf!” She called, looking towards the healer's den, from which a small tortoiseshell molly was already hurriedly making her way across the clearing. The crowd parted to let her pass, watching as she quickly met the queen at Ravenpaw’s side.

“I’m here, Dappleshine.” The healer murmured, inspecting the black tom with her nose. “Help me move him to my den. Quickly!” With that, she collected his scruff, careful to avoid his wounds, and began dragging him back to her den, with Dappleshine propping him up from the other side.

As they left, the Clan broke into hushed murmurs. Angling his ears towards Graypaw, Firepaw looked for any sort of explanation. Finally, the gray tom looked up, and he was surprised to see his friend's eyes were full of grief. “Redtail was like a father to many of the Clan, and one of our greatest warriors too. If he’s really dead…” He struggled to explain it in words.

Before he could, there was another loud yowl from the entrance. This time, a huge, dark brown tabby emerged, carrying a much smaller form. It took the new apprentice a moment to recognize it, but when he did, his heart dropped.

There, in the giant warrior’s maw, was the limp, hanging form of a cat.

“Redtail!” The cry of shock and grief rippled through the Clan, and even Bluestar, steely as she seemed, dropped into a crouch as a wave of sadness overwhelmed her at the sight of her fallen deputy. They parted as the warrior dragged the other to the center of camp, the crowd quickly reforming around the pair.

Firepaw could now see the dead cat clearly. He was a dark tom, dappled in blacks, browns, reds and whites that seemed to mimic the shadows of the leaves above. The only patch of clear fur was his thick, red tail, almost the same color as his own fur. The name was certainly fitting for the now-deceased deputy.

The warrior that stood over him, then, had to be Tigerclaw. It certainly fit him as well. His face was broad and covered in scars, while his giant striped shoulders displayed his muscles prominently. Every bit of him radiated strength and power, and it was easy to see how he was both the biggest and strongest cat in the Clan.

“What happened?” Bluestar demanded, quickly ascending to the Highrock to look down on the Clan. There was no need to call them together; all who were able to attend were looking on, waiting for an explanation.

Tigerclaw bowed his head. “We ran into a Riverclan patrol on our territory, near the stream. There were five of them, Oakheart among them.”

“Oakheart!” Graypaw hissed beside Firepaw. “He’s Riverclan’s deputy. One of the greatest warriors in the forest!”

“Redtail demanded that they stay off our territory, but Oakheart said he wouldn’t listen to our empty threats.” The mighty warrior shook his head sadly. “Redtail ordered us to attack, but the Riverclan cats were too quick for us. The next thing I knew, Oakheart had pinned Redtail down and killed him while three warriors kept me back.”

More yowls of shock greeted his words. “Cowards!” Graypaw spat at that. “How dare they break the warrior code like that?”

Bluestar lashed her tail. “Silence!” She snapped, though her own eyes were dark with fury. “What then, Tigerclaw?”

“I broke through the line of warriors and struck down Oakheart for his crimes. At the death of their deputy, the Riverclan cats fled in fear.” There were snarls of dark joy at the thought of justice being meted out. “I sent Ravenpaw back to get help, though I knew in my heart it was too late.” Tigerclaw’s words were heavy with grief. “Knowing I couldn’t leave him out there to be desecrated by those fish-eaters, I had no choice but to bring him back to camp.”

Firepaw looked up to see Bluestar’s response to all of this. The words of the dark-striped warrior were clearly weighing heavily on her, and her eyes were half-lidded with grief. “Such a terrible tragedy.” She murmured, barely loud enough for the Clan to hear. “This should never have happened.”

“Indeed. I regret, now, that I could not make amends to Redtail before his death. Had I known his life would be cut so short…” Firepaw saw a single tear trickle out of one of the warrior’s dark amber eyes, splashing down onto the corpse of his fallen deputy.

“This day will be remembered with great regret, and mourning.” Bluestar said, regaining enough composure to let her voice ring out across the clearing. “Redtail was one of the greatest warriors Thunderclan has ever known. His judgement was true and fair, and his loyalty to the Clan could never be questioned. He would have made a fine leader in my stead.” The Clan respectfully bowed their heads as she spoke, and Firepaw dutifully followed their lead. “May he find peace in Starclan.”

With that, she jumped off of the Highrock, landing in front of Redtail’s body. Lowering herself down, she pressed her nose into her lost deputy’s fur, whispering words that none could hear. As she did so, others followed: Lionheart, Dappleshine, Longtail, and Dustleap among them.

“What are they doing?” Firepaw asked Graypaw, puzzled.

“Though Redtail may be dead, the Clan will share tongues with him one last time before his spirit departs to Starclan.”

“Starclan?”

“The spirits of our ancestors. They watch over us from Startrail, and guide us through harsh times.”

“Startrail?”

“That bright group of stars that stretches across the night sky. Each star is a warrior that has joined them. Redtail will be among them tonight.” Though Graypaw answered his questions patiently, Firepaw could tell that his mind was elsewhere.

“Should we join them?” He asked, though he found it a bit difficult to imagine talking to a dead cat that he had never known.

“Only those closest to him will spend his last night with him. Lionheart and Longtail were his apprentices; Dappleshine, his sister; and Dustleap and Sandstorm were his children with Tigerclaw, his mate. Bluestar too, of course, since he was her deputy for many moons. Everyone else will probably just say a few words in thanks.” Graypaw glanced awkwardly at Firepaw. “Since you never knew him…”

“I understand.” Firepaw said quickly. “I’ll wait for you by the apprentice den.”

The other just nodded silently, leaving the new apprentice to find his way back to the tree stump they’d been sitting at alone. There was still half-eaten prey strewn about, but Firepaw had lost his appetite at the sight of Redtail. It was hard to eat a mouse only a few tail-lengths from where others were mourning.

He watched as Tigerclaw stood up and stalked away from Redtail’s body, towards the healer's den. A few cats shot him a surprised glance, but none seemed to say anything to him as he walked away. He reflected on what Graypaw had said; most of the other cats that he had named, he could see still hunched over Redtail, and they didn’t seem about to move any time soon. Tigerclaw’s sudden departure, then, seemed very odd, and he resolved to ask Graypaw about it when he returned.

The first to make their way back to the apprentice’s den, however, was Pepperpaw, who dipped her head softly. “Firepaw. I’m sorry you had to see all of this so soon.”

He shook his head. “I guess it’s just a part of Clan life?” The spotted tabby nodded sadly in response. “I just, uh, was wondering why Tigerclaw left so soon. Weren’t they mates?”

Pepperpaw glanced around, as though to make sure no one was watching, but all were focused on the recent death. “They used to be. They had Dustleap and Sandstorm, even. But shortly after they were born, they had some big falling out… apparently they haven’t spoken in moons.”

Firepaw flicked an ear in acknowledgement. That was about what Graypaw had told him, just before Ravenpaw had appeared. “So is it not that unusual he left, then? Since they’re not really mates anymore?”

“No, it is, but…” The molly tilted her head. “He went to Spottedleaf’s den, right? Maybe he was getting his wounds looked at, or checking up on Ravenpaw. That’s his son, after all.”

Firepaw blinked, imagining the skinny black tom in comparison to the hulking figure of Tigerclaw. “Ravenpaw’s his son?”

“I don’t know all the details, since Ravenpaw’s older than me, but…” She nosed Dewpaw in greeting as the smallest of the sisters approached, patting the ground beside her with her tail. “After Redtail and Tigerclaw fell out, Tigerclaw became mates with Nightwish. She died shortly after Ravenpaw was born, though. We never got to see her. From what I hear, she was small, but quick and clever. Much like Redtail, I suppose. I guess Ravenpaw takes after his mother more than Tigerclaw.”

As she spoke, he could almost picture the dead queen, lithe and the darkest black like her son, pacing worriedly back and forth by the entrance to the healer's den. “Do you think she’s watching over Ravenpaw in Starclan?” He asked hesitantly, trying his best to apply what Graypaw had told him about Clan traditions thus far.

Pepperpaw shot him an unreadable look, and for a moment he was worried that he’d said something wrong. “You’re very sharp, Firepaw. I can see what Graypaw meant about you.” He blinked in confusion, unsure whether to take that as a compliment or an insult, but she didn’t give him the chance to ask. “I’m sure she’s watching him right now. Perhaps it was by her will that Ravenpaw survived that horrible fighting.” She curled her tail a little tighter around her paws, a shiver running through her body. “I hope he lives, anyways.”

“He’ll be fine!” Firepaw startled as Graypaw made his way over to them, taking a seat next to him. “He’s Tigerclaw’s son, isn’t he? He’s got to have inherited some of his legendary stone will!” Despite the confidence in his words, it was easy to see the worry on his friend’s face.

“We could go see how he’s doing, right?” Firepaw asked, but the reactions of the siblings immediately made him backtrack, “Or maybe not!”

“Spottedleaf prefers a quiet den to work in.” Dewpaw spoke up, eliciting some measure of surprise from her siblings and the ginger tom. “Visitors get in her way.”

“Especially when they’re stealing honeycombs, she really doesn’t like that.” Graypaw added, earning a tiny glare from his littlest sister.

Glancing to Pepperpaw, who was silent but seemingly amused by her sibling’s conversation, he had to assume they were both telling the truth… to varying degrees of usefulness. “I guess that makes sense. Besides, she’ll tell the Clan how he’s doing soon enough… right?” Firepaw blinked between the three of them, but they just gave him different wordless shrugs in response.

“So who do you think’s gonna be the new deputy?” Cinderpaw asked as she bounded over, wasting no time in inserting herself into the conversation.

“Cinderpaw!” Pepperpaw’s shocked chiding went once again largely ignored, causing the spotted tabby to sigh in exasperation. “He’s only been dead a few moments, you should show some respect!”

The dark gray molly huffed and shook her head indignantly. “I did show him respect! I show him lots of respect! But that still doesn’t answer my question.” Her bright blue eyes swiveled around the group to land on Firepaw. “Hey, Firepaw! You’re the newest one here, who do you think will be the new deputy?”

He blinked back at her stupidly, trying to process what she was asking. “The new… deputy?” He asked slowly, hoping someone would come to his aid.

Thankfully, Graypaw cut in to explain. “The warrior code states that the leader must choose a new deputy before moonhigh. Otherwise, the Clan will suffer terrible luck.” He glanced over to where Bluestar was still mourning with a few others, though the crowd had largely dissipated back to the edges of camp. “It’ll be a hard decision for Bluestar. Redtail was a great deputy; whoever succeeds him will have some big paws to fill.”

Firepaw nodded and glanced across camp, though there were few warriors visible at the moment. “Then… what about Tigerclaw? His paws are plenty big.” He did his best to give a light, teasing grin to the others, and Graypaw rewarded his efforts with a small chuckle.

“Tigerclaw wouldn’t be a bad choice.” Pepperpaw mewed thoughtfully as she glanced to the healer's den, from which he still hadn’t emerged. “He’s already mentored Darkstripe, and he did avenge Redtail’s death. But he did also kill Oakheart… Riverclan might see it as a sign of further aggression if the cat that killed their deputy is made deputy.”

“Let them!” Cinderpaw growled eagerly, dropping into a play crouch with her claws extended. “I’ll show them what real Thunderclanners are made of!”

Graypaw rolled his eyes. “Has Mistspring even shown you any battle moves yet?” He asked her dryly.

Her face fell at the question. “I… well… no.” She grumbled, sitting back up and looking pointedly away from Graypaw. “What about you then, Pepperpaw? Who do you think Bluestar will choose?”

Pepperpaw looked off across camp thoughtfully, clearly thinking hard. Cinderpaw had just let out a loud snore when she finally answered. “I think the answer’s obvious. Bluestar already depends on Whitestorm so much, and now that Sandstorm’s a warrior, he has all the time in the world to devote to leading Thunderclan.”

The white warrior had been quite impressive, and seemed as steady and wise as Bluestar. From what Firepaw had seen so far, he wouldn’t be able to argue with her. “What about you, Dewpaw?” He asked the little apprentice, hoping to get her to talk a bit more. Though she’d said so little, from what he could tell, she seemed to be quite observant in her own way. “Who do you think Bluestar will pick?”

She gazed back up at him steadily, meeting his eyes for the first time since they’d met. “I think we’ll find out before moonhigh.”

Cinderpaw groaned and rolled her eyes at her sister’s response, but the other two seemed amused at her response. “You’re right, you’re right." Graypaw purred. "Say, Firepaw! Since we have time for a nap before moonhigh, why don’t I show you our den? You must be exhausted from all the excitement.” The other tom gave him a knowing glance and gestured toward the fern heap that made up the apprentice den.

As he mentioned it, Firepaw barely stifled a yawn. He was almost dead on his feet, especially now that he’d eaten. And Tinyfrost had given them the rest of the day off… “I suppose a quick nap wouldn’t hurt. That fight took a lot out of me, and the run here wasn’t exactly a quick jaunt.” He glanced at the others, hoping they wouldn’t find an opportunity to mock him, but to his relief they all seemed to nod in agreement.

“I know what you mean. I was exhausted the first time Lionheart took me around the territory! Though that fight with you didn’t help.” Graypaw stretched his front paws out, yawning loudly as he did so. “See you later, sisters.” With that, he gestured with his tail for Firepaw to follow him, disappearing into the giant growth of ferns.

Firepaw nodded his farewell to the tree and followed quickly, not eager to give Cinderpaw an opening to chatter his ears off more. Cautiously, he nosed his way into the ferns, pleasantly surprised to find that Graypaw had been right; the ferns hid a dip in the earth, as though a giant cat had reached down and scooped away the apprentice’s den with its paw. Though the leafy ferns made it appear flat, the hollow beneath them was easily large enough to fit Graypaw, Firepaw, and both their litters with plenty more room besides.

“Where do I sleep?” He asked, looking around hesitantly. The whole hollow was carpeted in a mixture of moss, old fur, and fallen fern leaves, making it difficult to tell who slept where.

“Wherever you’d like, as long as it’s not the far back; that’s Ravenpaw’s spot.” Graypaw found a spot near the middle and began raking together a crude nesting area. “Just don’t sleep too close to my sisters; Cinderpaw kicks something fierce in her sleep!”

Firepaw couldn’t tell if that was a joke or not, and in the semi-darkness of the hollow it was hard to see Graypaw’s expression. Still, he picked a spot somewhat between his new friend and the entrance that smelled stale enough, and copied Graypaw’s nest gathering technique. Carefully, he circled it and kneaded it, until it was soft and comfortable enough to sleep on. He had only laid down a few moments before he was already drifting into a dreamless slumber, enjoying the momentary peace and quiet.

#talonslock #warrior cats #wc #fanfic #the prophecies begin #fire and ice #talonslock story #ravenpaw #firepaw #graypaw #cinderpaw #dewpaw #pepperpaw #redtail #tigerclaw #bluestar #oakheart #lionheart #dappleshine #spottedleaf #longtail #dustleap #sandstorm #whitestorm #mistspring #nightwish

[starryserenade]

Myth and Magic Ch. 3: Warmth

Fic Description: When Tir Na nÓg--the fabled land of the fae--falls to a dark power, the destinies of two young mice are set in motion. As each struggle to make their way in an ever-darkening world, they must learn to trust one another, or risk forever losing that which they hold most dear.

Chapter Description: Magic begins to stir, and icy walls start to crumble.

Links:

AO3

Prologue

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

~~~~

It’s coming…

A withered leaf fluttered past Oswald’s nose and he frowned, looking out over the kingdom below. As usual, light beamed in a thousand dazzling colors and fairies pranced about their glow in a dreamlike revelry that never seemed to end. They were blissfully unconcerned with the crystalline flowers that had begun to web with tiny cracks, nor the amber trees whose leaves now curled into a dull brown.  

The rabbit narrowed his eyes and mindlessly squeezed the small doll in his hands–a child’s toy, really, with golden thread that had started to unravel and clothing dulled by time and wear. It flopped lazily in his grip, a small tail slipping through his fingers until, startled by a sound behind him, he shoved it in the pocket of his cloak and whirled around.  

“What?” he queried gruffly, clearing his throat as he came to face a masked guard. Though the armored fae were tasked with obeying his every command, he did not much care for their presence. Their cold demeanor and piercing stare had a tendency to send chills through his spine, and gave him the inkling they knew more than they were letting on.

The guard lifted his hand and summoned a cloud of magic, then held it steady for the fairy king to see. Oswald snarled, taking the blatant use of enchantments as a direct mockery of his own lack of the skill, but was quickly taken by the images that appeared in the swirling mist. His heart, cold as it was, skipped a beat. Rushing water, flaring nostrils, and pounding hooves, came together in a violent whirl, and Oswald took a faltering step away from the scene, clutching his chest. “What is this?” 

This was not news, this was a nightmare. One he saw every time he closed his eyes. “Listen here,” he growled, rushing at the guard. “If she thinks this is funny, then I-”

But the guard narrowed his lightless eyes, and with an unwavering grip, pushed Oswald’s fist away, nodding briskly at the magic which had only continued to shift. The kelpies parted and two figures came into view, fighting desperately to escape the enchanted equines. 

There is a shock so great it drives every ounce of breath and warmth from a person. Fairies are not immune to such effects and for a moment, Oswald found he could not breathe. The faint blush of anger from seconds prior drained from him in an instant, and he felt as if his blood had been turned to ice.  

“They’re alive…” he breathed, failing to keep from reaching into the mist. It scattered at his touch and he reeled back with a start, acutely aware of the guard’s suspicious glare. “I…” Oswald began, trembling with a multitude of emotion not absent of fear. Then he shook his head, ears bouncing lightly as he regained just enough composure to speak. “Bring them to me,” he ordered, eyes flooding with steely composition once again. “Alive.”

~~~

Water erupted from the lake’s surface as the patch of ice shattered, and Mickey emerged with a frantic gulp of air, sputtering and coughing as he scrambled to escape the frigid pool.  Of course, with waterlogged fur and a body sapped of strength, this was not the easiest endeavor.  He nearly fell back in, but then there was another splash beside him as the girl leapt from the ice. Had he not been so intently focused on mere survival, he might have marveled at the transformation as her scales melted away, pearlescent tail dissolving into shimmering droplets that came together in a dress of seaweed green.

But he did not see this, which was probably a good thing because he likely would have lost his grip immediately. As it was, he held on just long enough for her to snag his wrist and yank him out, quickly pulling him to the shore which, thankfully, was only steps away from where they’d managed to break free.

She let him down on the rocky shoreline and he collapsed, still gasping for air as his teeth chattered in the cold.  But the girl didn’t seem to notice. She stood straight, her cheeks a furious crimson. 

“Eejit!” she hissed, her hands balled into fists at her side. “I was trying to save you, and you pull a trick like that?! Or did you want us to become kelpie food!”

Mickey was first so taken by the sound of her voice, entranced by the bell-like ring in every word she spoke, that he nearly forgot to be offended. But then she whipped around to glare at him and his astonishment quickly dissolved. He shook his head, droplets splashing on the stones around him, and glared back. “Well, you’re a siren!” he countered, his face somehow managing to get twice as red as hers. “I thought you were tryin’ to drown me!”

At this, she snorted and lifted her nose to the air. “Do I look like a fairy to you?” 

He stared at her blankly then blinked, realizing now that her scaled fin was gone, replaced by legs and a threadlike tail. He glanced at her feet, then back at her face. “Well, not now,” was all he could think of to say, at which she scoffed and plopped herself down on a small boulder.

“Well, I’m not,” she huffed. “I was cursed by one, thank you. So I’m likely to dislike them just as much as you do.”

Mickey was about to argue that he didn’t particularly dislike fairies, but judging by her sudden shift in demeanor, head lowered to her hands in crestfallen frustration, he figured it best not to push the subject any further. But as his wet fur dripped steadily onto the earth and he stared at the girl, he became acutely aware of his own lack of manners. Fairy or not, she had saved his life, and he had not done much more than insult her thus far.

Clearing his throat, he slipped his coat off his shoulders and pretended to turn his attention to wringing out the water from its threads. “I’m, uh…’m sorry,” he mumbled nervously. “Thank you for savin’ me.” 

Slowly, she lifted her head and looked at him, then sighed and cracked a small smile. “You’re the first person I’ve seen in ages,” she murmured softly, voice breaking. Then her eyes brightened with the slightest bit of humor. “It’d have been a shame to let you drown. I’m Minnie, by the way.” 

“Minnie…” Mickey tested the word on his tongue, and grinned. “I’m Mickey! Pleased t’meet’cha.”

Minnie giggled and met his gaze, and Mickey felt his fur rising under her stare. The way her eyes narrowed as she looked at him, not in suspicion but in confusion, made him feel like she was searching for something but wasn’t sure what.  Then a cold breeze interrupted the moment, and they both shuddered. He was surprised to see her wince and wrap her arms about herself, having figured the cold was of no consequence to her. But she stood and sniffed, the light in her face dimming once again. “I…I should go.” She flicked her tail and cast a melancholy glance towards the lake, where the hole in the ice was already beginning to freeze over again.  “I can’t spend much time out of the water in this cold.”

But Mickey had stood at the first sight of her chill, and tapped her lightly as she took a step to walk away. When she turned, he grinned shyly and held up the now-damp coat he’d managed to wring out just enough. “Would this help?”  

It was a pitiful attempt at helpfulness–a damp coat in such cold was likely to do more harm than good–but Minnie grinned nonetheless, seemingly flattered by the effort.  Mickey could not help his own shivering, however, and he spotted Minnie’s hesitation as she cast a concerned look his way. “Will you be okay?” she asked, fingers brushing past his gift.

“Awe, don’t worry about me,” Mickey shrugged, doing his best to keep his teeth from chattering. “I’ve been through worse, honest.”

Minnie stared at him, and he could tell she was unconvinced. She pursed her lips and  opened her mouth to speak, but then a flash of light flickered at the corner of their vision, and they both turned to look.  

The island was aglow, and several dark silhouettes emerged from its depths. Mickey squinted his eyes, unable to make out their shapes. “Friends of yours?” he asked, but Minnie seemed frozen beside him. “Minnie?”

Minnie cast a panicked glance at the nearly-frozen gap in the ice, then back at Mickey, and seemed to make up her mind. “We have to go!” she gasped, grabbing him by his cloak as she clambered up the sloping banks.  He stumbled after her, dropping the coat and looking behind him as the shapes grew darker then took to the air, enormous wings carrying them into the sky.  

“Oh boy…” he muttered under his breath, suddenly a bit more petrified. Those were fairies, no doubt. And if Minnie’s reaction was any indication, they certainly weren’t friendly.  

The two climbed over the bank and into the forest itself, stumbling through the knee-deep snow as fast as they could manage.  The sound of wings was heavy behind them, and it was not long before several dark shadows passed over the canopy under which they ran. Mickey, who felt his own strength was fading fast, eyed Minnie carefully. She was moving stiffly, wincing with every step. He was about to call out to her, asking if she was all right, when an enormous figure slammed into the snow in front of them.

Minnie screamed and Mickey instinctively jumped in front of her, reaching for his bow. But his hand came up empty, and he realized he must have dropped it during his watery ordeal.  So he found himself facing down the creature with as much courage as he could muster and raised his cloak against its dark, inky claws. It made a motion to bring them down upon him and Mickey winced, preparing himself for the blow.  But then came the sound of a strange howl and a hellish screech, and when Mickey looked, he found the fairy pinned to the ground by a strange creature. There was no time to make out its features, so Mickey simply thought a prayer of thanks that both monsters were preoccupied and helped Minnie to her feet, knowing full well the other fae would be catching up with them soon.  

“How do we stop them?” He shouted to Minnie over the sound of their pounding steps and ragged breaths.

She looked at him, fatigue and pain written across her face. “They…they’re weak to iron,” she gasped, barely able to finish the words. “But I don’t know where we-”

Then it hit Mickey, and he narrowed his eyes, something akin to a plan forming in his head. “I do!” he shouted, spotting a familiar patch of stone and hearing the river coursing to their left. “But we’ve gotta get to the other side of the river! Do you trust me?”

The girl stumbled over herself, and Mickey caught her by her wrist, utter determination shining in his eyes. It must have won her over because, trembling, she murmured a quiet “yes”, and grasped his hand. 

The heat that rushed through them gave them a sudden boost of strength as Mickey raced full force towards the edge of the gorge then leapt with all he had for the other side, holding Minnie’s hand tight as she leapt alongside him. With a spark of panic, he drew in a breath, thinking for a moment that they were going to miss their target. But a breeze kicked up beneath them, not unlike the one that had urged Mickey into the forest to begin with, and it granted him just enough height to be able to send Minnie to the upper bank with a decisive push. Mickey himself came up just short, and found himself clinging to the edge of the bank whose surface of snow quickly dissolved beneath his hand.  

He gasped, kicking his legs in the hope of reaching a ledge to push himself up, but found nothing. Just as his grip gave way, Minnie darted over the edge and grabbed him by the arm, hoisting him up onto the other side.  They both collapsed and panted for air, knowing all the time they could not afford this brief moment of recovery.

Sure enough, just as they stood another fairy landed ahead of them, scarlet eyes glowing in the dappled shadows of the forest. But Mickey spotted what he’d been looking for just behind them, and began to think up just how to reach it.

“Minnie…” he whispered, eyeing the fairy and taking cautious steps along the cliff’s edge as the being began to inch forward. “Do you see that lump of snow just behind them?��� 

Minnie squinted, then nodded briskly. 

“There’s somethin’ over there. I need ya to get it ready while I distract our friend here.  Then when I tell ya, throw it his way and run. Got it?”

She looked at him, obviously concerned but faced with little to no other alternative. “Got it…” she murmured, releasing his grip and shuddering. Mickey flashed her a less-than-confident smile, then scooped up a handful of snow and ran at the beast. She gave him a petrified look that he didn’t see but, shaking her head, she quickly recalled his instructions and darted in the opposite direction.

To be honest, Mickey was terrified.  The fairy before him was twice his size and if either he or Minnie failed in their tasks, he was sure they’d be done for.  But at the very least, he had something to fight for, and that simple fact gave him courage he was not used to possessing.  

At first, the fairy seemed divided between the two targets. But Mickey flung a handful of snow its way, and that quickly made up its mind. With a growl, it spread its wings and ran at him with a shadowy spear that formed in its hands. Mickey yelped, just barely leaping out of the way as it stabbed the earth with its weapon. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Minnie with the net in hand, giving him a pointed look to declare she was ready for her part of the plan.

Mickey nodded her way and, taking a nervous breath, slid between the creature’s legs then found his grip on the earth and hollered loudly. “Over here, pal!” 

The fairy whipped around, fury in its eyes, and blindly rushed towards the mouse. But Mickey jumped to the side at the last possible moment, leaving Minnie to throw the net at the beast. It let out a screech and for a brief moment, the two mice were certain they’d succeeded. And they would have, only Mickey had not moved far enough. As he leapt out of the way, he found his cloak briefly snagged on the fairy’s clawed hand. His cloak tore, freeing him from the creature’s grasp but putting him in the way of the net’s trajectory.

He shouted in pain as it caught around his leg, and collapsed in the snow, gasping as he tried to free himself. It burned, sending what felt like a shockwave through his entire body. But Minnie rushed over, untangling him from the netting as fast as he could, and helping him to his feet as his mind slowly recovered from the shock. “I’m so sorry!” she breathed, even as they began to stumble away from the writhing fairy who snarled furiously as they made their escape. Mickey did not respond, instead focusing on finding his breath. He did, however, send her a weak smile. This only seemed to worry her more. 

A distant screech sounded from behind them and the two looked worriedly over their shoulders.  “Just a little more…” Mickey muttered, limping forward. The threshold was in sight–he could see the moors just ahead, the grass still flooded with rain.

Minnie nodded but let out a shaky breath that made Mickey turn. Just as he did, she took a step and collapsed, body shivering violently. 

“Minnie!” Mickey shouted, immediately falling to his knees and gathering her to himself. She was ice cold, a blue-ish hue upon her cheeks. “Hold on!” he urged her, using every ounce of his strength to lift her then racing for the edge of the forest, gritting his teeth against the pain in his wounded leg.  Wings pounded behind him but he ignored them. There was no time to face the creature now. He only hoped it could not cross over the border to chase after them.

A cold breath blew against Mickey’s neck as a screech sounded in his ears. The fairy was just behind him. But it was too late. One more step, and Mickey had crossed the threshold. The forest vanished behind him, dissolving in a shimmer, and the sound of the fairy’s cries was taken up in the wind.

He collapsed, adrenaline dissipating into a flurry of trembling as he turned his attention to the girl in his arms, whom he gingerly placed on the grass.

“No, no…” he pleaded as her breaths grew faint. Terrified to touch her any more for fear of worsening her pain, he pulled the cloak from around his body and set it over her, hoping it would do something, anything to keep her warm.  

A frostlike film had begun to coat her fur as if turning her to ice, and he recalled her words from before. Guilt struck his heart when he realized that she had abandoned the safety of the lake to help save him. He thought to turn back around, facing wicked fairies and all just to return her, but the forest refused to appear again, no matter how he begged for it to do so. 

Then a thought flickered in his mind. How their touch had held such a warmth that it seemed almost like magic, and he wondered if that might be enough.

It was unlikely, to be sure, but he didn’t know what else to do. So he simply gathered her in his arms, tore the glove from his fingers, and held her hands in his. 

Nothing. He shuddered at the cold as her icy fingers brushed his palm, but brought them to his cheek in the hopes of sharing as much warmth as he could, listening with a trembling spirit as her breathing slowed, then stopped. 

He bit his lip as her chest stopped moving, waiting and hoping for a miracle. But after several seconds went by, he lowered his head and sat unmoving, staring blankly at the place where the forest had been.  Until the silence set in, he had not realized how much joy the sound of her voice had brought him in the brief time he'd been privileged to hear it. The utter quiet that flooded back into his world was deafening, and seemed a terrible reminder of his failure.  “I’m so sorry,” he whimpered at last, bringing her hand to his heart.

Then he felt it. A brief tremor of warmth amidst the stark chill that had overtaken her body. It began in her palm, a subtle glow that spread as Mickey continued to hold her.  Hope fluttered in his chest as color began to return to her cheeks, and then spread to the rest of her.

But it didn’t stop there. The world itself seemed intent on celebrating. In that moment, the clouds parted to allow streams of sunlight through, and the air warmed until this small patch of moors was itself a beacon of spring.

Mickey paid none of this any mind, instead struggling to contain his joy as the girl in his arms drew a breath and opened her eyes. She seemed confused at first, and he felt at once quite embarrassed at the closeness to which he held her. But this did not seem to matter to Minnie who, blinking in the newfound rays of sun shining only for them, was overcome with wonder.

“Mickey…”She breathed and looked up at him with eyes full of gratitude and curiosity. Then she laughed softly and squeezed his palm back, a single question gracing her lips as they both felt the heat of their touch flood their veins. “What are we?”

#it's a double feature kind of week #lolol #myth and magic #myth & magic #my writing #Keeper of the Quill #mickey mouse #minnie mouse #oswald the lucky rabbit #fae #fairy au #irish folklore #mickey x minnie #fanfiction #fanfic #this is all purely indulgent at this point #I do have a whole lot of lore for this one #and I feel like I've got a good plan #more so than usual #but also #I'm just writing what i want at this point haha #StoriesComeAlive

[themuskrater]

My favorite costume from each Doctor (Part 2)

In Part 1 I went over my favorite costume for each of the Classic Doctors. This is Part 2, where I'll be doing the same thing with all of the Revival Doctors

Honestly I struggled to decide where to put this, but decided to keep it in regeneration order. John Hurt wears two costumes as The War Doctor. One we briefly see in a reflection in Night of the Doctor, which is essentially just the 8th Doctor's costume with a new leather bandolier, and his iconic Day of the Doctor costume. Obviously, I chose the later. We only see this Doctor in his final moments before regenerating, but his costume tells his whole story

When Doctor Who came back in 2005, audiences were greeted with a much different Doctor. He was angry, cynical, and alone. Christopher Eccleston's costume reflects that perfectly. We only see minor changes to his costume in the form of different color shirts. They're all basically the same, but if I have to choose one, I do like the red v-neck quite a bit

Yes. I know his hair is flat, hear me out. David Tennant was another Doctor who only got subtle variations. New shirts, different ties, and two different colors of the same suit. Personally, I always liked the blue shirt and brown suit combo. So why this one over all the other nearly identical versions? The tie. Day of the Doctor gave 10 a brand new tie he's never worn before and it's personally my favorite. Yes the hair is flat, but it was also pretty flat at times in series 2 and 3 so that doesn't bother me

Can you tell I really liked the costumes in Day of the Doctor? Matt Smith was the first Doctor since Tom Baker to get a full head-to-toe redesign for series 7b. Before that, it was essentially unchanged with variations I'm the blazer, shirts, and color of bowtie, as well a green duster for a few episodes. But the 7b purple frock is my favorite. So again, why did I pick the 50th version? Well, the 7b design was originally introduced with a different vest a few variations of the bowtie. The purple waistcoat and dotted bowtie happen to be my favorite

Onto my personal favorite Doctor, Peter Capaldi rivals Jon Pertwee for sheer number of costumes worn on screen, and like Pertwee, it was nearly impossible for me to pick a favorite. I almost chose obvious standouts like the linen coat or the burgundy velvet. Instead, I landed on this look from The Magicians Apprentice for one simple reason. This is the costume he wore when I KNEW he was going to be my favorite. The dad jokes, the guitar, the sonic shades, the plaid pants. This was MY Doctor

Jodie Whittaker got very few variations in her costume. Like 9, 13 mainly just changed the color of her shirt aside from a few one-offs. Then we got Resolution. It's still a simple change, but the dark blue tee shirt was swapped out for a vibrant blue sweater. In addition, it gave her this fun rainbow scarf that I loved so much that I wish it had been a permanent change to her costume

The Fugitive Doctor or the Ruth Doctor, or whatever you want to call her, is dripped the fuck out. Jo Martin only got one costume but she didn't NEED any alternates because she just looks so damn cool. All I'll say is let her wear those sunglasses more often, they look great on her and they give her Doctor extra character and individuality

When he said he didn't want to go, what he meant was I'm not leaving. At this point, everyone knows David Tennant is returning to play the 14th Doctor. His costume seems to be a modern reimagining of his 10th Doctor look. We've only gotten to see a few seconds of footage of him as well as some promotional photos, but I love this costume. If this were a 10th Doctor returning, this would have won my favorite 10th Doctor look. I know some people are angry we didn't get to see him in Jodie's costume post-regeneration, but that doesn't bother me too much. I'm expecting it to be part of the story of the 60th

I'll post an update or maybe a part 3 when Ncuti Gatwa's costume is revealed. For now, I'll just say I'm so glad we're getting a Doctor with a mustache. It looks great on him and I hope he keeps it. Mustaches are cool

#doctor who #dr who #dw #nuwho #doctor who revival #doctor who review #david tennant #jodie whittaker #john hurt #christopher eccleston #matt smith #peter capaldi #ncuti gatwa #jo martin #the war doctor #9th doctor #10th doctor #11th doctor #12th doctor #13th doctor #14th doctor #15th doctor #the fugitive doctor #the ruth doctor #doctor who costume #costume review #doctor who costumes #costume design #day of the doctor #doctor who 60th anniversary

[naamahdarling]

Dude i love your whats the way to cheta burger (i hope i got the title right) but I was wondering what are your processes of taking pictures (or are they pictures) of your traditional art to post because man do i struggle

Thank you! I liked that one a lot, it has such vibes.

Yeah, they're pictures!

I either use my old (like 2015) digicam and edit the pictures with an ancient pirated version of Photoshop, or I just use my phone and edit it there. I'm certain there's good apps for it as well.

A huge part of this is how high res the camera is, because that's how you capture fine lines and grain. I bought an expensive-ass Pixel solely because of its camera. My digicam is a Nikon Coolpix L840 and is like 8 years old but still good for my purposes. I'd say they are about equal in terms of results with the Nikon being slightly better quality and the Pixel being much more convenient because it doesn't need a memory card and I can edit most stuff right there.

Lighting matters. I prefer photographing 2D art flat, with good overhead lighting, OR photographing it upright with light from both sides. Natural light is best for color of course but isn't always possible.

Rarely I will actually scan things with a friend's ancient scanner.

How reflective your paper or your medium is will affect lighting an absolutely bonkers amount, so you may have to move yourself and your art around to keep it from reflecting. Really shiny stuff may need a scanner.

You lose depth with shaded stuff when editing, scanners are best for that if you can access one, but they are not necessary unless you're aiming for prints or a fine art thing.

Here's a raw pic from the Pixel, then the edit:

Acceptable loss of some tone IMO for being done in my hand in about 30 seconds.

Crop first always, darks or lights outside the piece will fuck with your fine tuning real bad.

With black and white work, desaturate the image before you do anything more, to remove all color from whatever lighting you have.

For this image of Dried Pickle Man, I then went in and fine tuned it in the phone. In order: boosted Highlights, tinkered with White Point a bit, meddled with Contrast a bit. If your phone can't do that, the equivalents in my version of PS would probably be Levels, then Brightness/Contrast. Maybe Curves?

This barely needed to be touched since the blue came out accurate:

This is the original, what it looks like to adjust the skewed edges, then the end result after a tiny tweak to contrast and white point. On the lower right of the last image is where the ink was throwing back some light. This could be fixed in PS or probably avoided with scanning but since I am only documenting these for sale and for my own enjoyment they don't need to be incredible.

Again, a lot depends on having an okay camera, but Which Way to Cheetah Burger was taken 2 phones ago with a POS Samsung and looks fine at internet size and resolution. I edited it in PS I THINK.

I don't know how any of this would do if I wanted to do prints but just to document your stuff it's usually fine.

I hope this helps!