#*shakes fists at the sky like a cartoon villain*

[sylenth-l]

Um

[emptyrule]

" You'll never meet the Stars face to face so unfortunately, any stabbing will have to be set aside for a different method."

❝ You know, when you're getting kidnapped, usually there's someone physically there doing it for you to stab. ❞

[twig-gy]

shakes fist at the sky and bellows like a cartoon villain DAMN YOU CHONNY JASH

[sleepy-aletheas]

With how Genshin has a significant theme around music, cyclical nature of the rise and fall of civilizations, and the fight against fate, I find it funny to link it all back to Ena, who through music weaved the universe, practically creating fate and caused the rise and fall of civilizations. Are they genuinely connected? Probably not, but that doesn't mean I won't shake my fist at the sky screaming Ena's name like a morning cartoon villain.

There is something charming about the whole hoyo-verse being either interlinked or just repeating themes (and characters, plots, philosophies), because it's usually looked at from a different perspective, or arrives at a different conclusion. It's neat to have multiple ways to explore these things. It gives my brain something to chew on to avoid anxiety.

[maxwell-grant]

Captain Fray: The Trash Superman

Look up in the sky! Is it a bird? A plane? No, it’s... an ugly, homeless bald man cackling evily while raining trash on the city with an army of sludge monsters, shortly before getting beaten up by a group of meddling kids. It’s just dumb old Captain Fray again getting foiled by Monica’s Gang, nevermind him. He does that every Tuesday. 

Monica’s Gang are arguably the most iconic of all Brazilian comic book characters, having maintained popularity for 60 years and with unmatched worldwide recognition. They��ve had cartoons, a cinematic universe of films both cartoon and live-action, plays, a long-running manga spin-off that turned them into teenagers, crossovers everywhere ranging from The Big Two’s superheroes to Osamu Tezuka’s properties (as Monica’s creator Mauricio and Tezuka were acquaintances), at least one theme park, and much, much more. Even past Brazil’s borders, where they are a cultural institution on a scale matched only by Disney, these are some of the world’s most popular characters, starring in just about any kind of adventure imaginable and then some. 

However, if you go into the world of Monica’s Gang, and look for a flying man with a chest logo, a cape and impossible superpowers, you’ll instead find their greatest arch-enemy: Captain Fray (actual name Capitão Feio, which translates to Captain Ugly), real name Feioso Araújo. Who will be happy to remind you time and time again of what a rotten, no-good scoundrel he is, even if he has to pick a fight with the Big Blue himself to prove it.

So let’s talk about perhaps the most iconic “caped superhero” of Brazilian comic books, even if he’s ultimately a long, long shot from being one.

Despite the long, worldwide spanning history of the superhero, the idea of the superhero as a cape-wearing uniformed superpowered do-gooder has remained a largely American concept, as different regions have their own unique icons. The titular 4 members of Monica’s Gang have on many occasions taken the role of superheroes, and they’ve built up a massive Rogues Gallery over decades, despite not looking like the usual idea of a superhero. Monica, Jimmy Five, Smudge and Maggy, for the most part, look and act like kids, with odd quirks. 

To briefly describe the 4: Monica is the pudgy, bucktoothed ruler of the group as well as the neighborhood, being super strong and more than willing to hit people who mock her with her stuffed rabbit “Samson”. Jimmy Five has a speech impediment, and he constantly schemes to take Monica’s role as leader, best described at times as a junior Lex Luthor to Monica’s Superman. Maggy is Monica’s friend with an uncontrollable appetite, and the witty and perpetually dirty Smudge is Jimmy Five’s friend and accomplice in schemes. Smudge is defined by his complete and total refusal to take a bath or even come into contact with water under any circumstances, and some stories play up Smudge’s dirtyness to the point of superpower.

It’s Smudge in particular who’s gonna be relevant to this post, because the first time Captain Fray was introduced, he was introduced as Smudge’s good-natured and humorous uncle, a comic book addict surrounded by piles of dusty comics, particularly those of Smudge’s favorite superhero, Captain Pitoco, a sort of Superman/Buzz Lightyear analogue. Eventually, Smudge’s uncle is surrounded by dust, and out of it, he transforms “back” into a former alter-ego, Captain Fray, a megalomaniac supervillain horrified at just how clean the world is, and who decides to sully it as much as possible, flying around the city spreading dirt rays and even transforming the population into pollution-fanatics. Eventually he’s defeated and transformed back into normal, only thinking he had a weird dream. 

Upon subsequent appearences, Fray would acquire things like sludge minions, underground lairs and ever increasing powers (like in the above sequence where he somehow destroys a rainbow and darkens the sky with a single gesture), although he would eventually gain a Kryptonite-esque weakness to water. Captain Fray would go on to become the most reocurring villain of Monica’s Gang for the next 40 years, as the former concept of him being Smudge’s uncle was dropped and he became instead the ruler of an underground race of sludge monsters created by him, who’d occasionally come on to the surface in order to engage in supervillain plots to take over the world and spread dirt and pollution everywhere, sometimes in stories with an environmental angle, and often when the story calls for superhero antics. 

Fray’s got a very standard Grinch/Captain Hook cartoon villain personality, all cackles and snarls and shaking fists at the meddling kids who ruin his plans everytime, proud of being evil and rotten, but never too rotten to the point he betrays the kid-friendly nature of the stories he’s in, nor too rotten that he can’t do something nice for a change like allow his monsters to celebrate Christmas even if it ruins his bad guy image, or begrudingly do a nice thing for Smudge. 

Although for the most part, the “mainline” comics have dropped the angle of Fray being Smudge’s uncle, the two having a particular dynamic has stayed consistent still. Sometimes, Smudge is portrayed as the only member of the Gang who’s got little to no problem with Fray, even welcoming the change of scenery he brings, although he will stick with his friends, as often he’s the only one who’s got no problem being hit by Fray’s dirt rays. While sometimes Fray singles out destroying Smudge so his claim as the dirtiest being in the universe can never be challenged, he is more often depicted as having a soft spot for Smudge, sometimes considering him a pupil or potential successor to inherit his powers, and plenty of times, Smudge has done just that, although inevitably it never sticks, partially because Fray gets jealous or misses his former life, and partially because Smudge gets bored of supervillainy and just wants to go play with his friends again. 

The dynamic between Smudge and Fray has led to a lot of adventures between the two, and it’s something that’s been played up in the aforementioned manga spin-off, Monica Adventures. In it, the cast’s all been aged up to teenagers, and the adventures they get into respectively have taken much more of a shonen manga edge, much darker and weirder than anything the original kid comics could get away with, although not necessarily to it’s benefit, because I could not begin to describe just how much grimdark nonsense is in those, let’s just call it the Monica’s Gang equivalent of Jorge Joestar in terms of lunacy and leave it at that (although, to be clear, even the original “mainline” comics could get very, very weird themselves). Captain Fray has been a mainstay of said manga from the start, going through a series of redesigns, including one where he turns into a bootleg Sephiroth, and one where he tries rebranding himself into a suit-wearing gangster named “Black Dust”, which nobody really takes seriously. 

It’s also granted Fray a backstory: As a kid, when he’d gone to the basement to read comics, his house was buried in a landslide. Afraid of death, he was met with a milipede claiming to serve “The Serpent” (the in-universe stand in for the devil, maybe, just bear with me here), claiming it would protec him so long as it returned the favor someday. He was afterwards transferred to an orphanage, teased by kids over his lack of hygiene and liking for superheroes and nicknamed “Captain Ugly” (again, his name, Fray is just the English translation), with rumors that his touch granted disease. After the orphanage closes, he’s adopted by a nurse and gains a step-brother in Smudge’s dad. 

Years down the line, and Feioso’s managed to acquire a house and make a decent living. He spends a lot of time with his nephew Smudge, teaching him how to build toys out of garbage (a habit of Smudge in the strips) and fly kites and so on. Until one day, in an update of his original story, he’s cleaning his house packed with dusty comics, and a shelf falls atop of him. The millipede from his childhood appears to recollect the debt:

"Your mission is to pollude the Earth...rot it's soil...change it's atmosphere...darken the skies with smoke...so that the sun's rays may never again hit the surface of this planet!

"No! No, please! I-I don't want to hurt anyone!"

"You think you can refuse? You think you have a choice? Do you think you can escape your destiny? Evil does not tolerate weak servants. If you don't fill your end of the bargain, if you don't pay your debt...it will be transferred to the person you love most."

"Smudge? NO!! H-How do you know about my nephew?"

"We know of all that happens. Our eyes...are everywhere."

"Smudge has nothing to do with this. Leave him alone, please...I-I'll do anything you guys want!"

"So be it...Filthy powers will corrode your soul...This is the day of your rebirth! How would you like to be rebaptized?

"The nickname I was given at the orphanage...it's perfect! Captain Ugly strikes again!"

How “canon” the events of Monica Adventures are is a question best left unspoken, since it ultimately doesn’t change anything about the original strips. But regardless of what made Fray who he is, he would spend the following decades in many, many attempts to complete his mission and defeat Monica’s Gang, to be foiled and stopped time and time again by his nephew and his friends, little more than a dumb, cartoon villain there to be smacked again and again, too dumb to quit and too mean to stop. So he was, and so he will always be.

But something interesting’s happened recently with him. As part of the Graphic MSP initiative that’s allowed creators to reinvent the many, many characters of Monica’s Gang for stand-alone graphic novels, Captain Fray’s received one in the form of Capitão Feio: Identidade, which isn’t so much an origin story as it tells the story of a homeless man with no knowledge of his past or where he acquired the superpowers that force him to be on the constant run from society, and it tells the story of how said man eventually became the infamous supervillain, despite his many attempts to be a superhero. 

The comic and it’s sequel, Tormenta, acted more of a proof of concept to test whether or not a serious reimagining of Captain Fray can work, and considering their reception and the newfound love that the Captain seems to have attained in recent years, I’d say they succedeed pretty damn well. He’s ostracized for his appearence, poverty, smell and bad manners, and there’s hardly anything he can do about it because his powers make him a toxic abomination by default. He spends portions of the book trying to create living beings with his powers, and once he succeeds in creating a Godzilla-esque monster to protect him from the authorities, he ends up having to put the monster down, before getting fed up with constant rejection and promptly announcing that, if he’s just gonna be known as an ugly monster by the people, even after he saves them, he’s gonna make it a point to be Captain Ugly Monster, the most rotten supervillain they’ve ever seen. 

The comic constantly grants upon Frey iconography of several of the biggest icons of comic books, from Batman and Superman to AKIRA, playing up not just Frey’s association with comic books but also the fact that he's been mired in that aesthetic from day one. He wanted to be a hero, he wanted to be like Captain Pitoco, and regardless of continuity, all that he ends up as is becoming a gross caricature of a superhero. And still, Frey owns it. He owns his grossness, his rage, his bitterness at everything that he understands to be the opposite of himself, everything clean and good and decent, and he tries time and time again to tear it down, even if he ultimately can never get far enough to accomplish his goals, or lose all of his humanity in the process.

I’ve remarked once that, to many in some regions of South America, the “traditional” superhero does not hold much appeal, and most of the more popular protagonists and icons tend to be outlaws far away from caped antics. Which is why it’s particularly interesting that, not only is the most famous caped superman of Brazilian comic books a villain, but also that, perhaps unintentionally, Fray has undergone the kind of development that most reocurring cartoon villains never get, and one that seems almost poised to last. In a current zeitgest of villain protagonists, it’s successes and failures, I could very easily see Captain Fray becoming the star of a popular film or series, one that takes a look not just at his personality and role, but also at Brazilian culture’s relationship with superheroes and supervillains. Maybe Fray as an anti-hero, trying to make the best of the horrendous powers he’s burdened with, could work.

So long as it’s not revealed that he likes dirt because his mom got pushed off a cliff by cleaning products, I could see it working very well.

[warriorcatsofficialfacts]

does gray wing know how much i hate him. does he know that i wake up every night and curse his name. i hope he knows. i hope he knows he cannot hide forever

sometimes i wake up in a cold sweat thinking about how the erins did turtle tail and bumble SO fucking dirty

[sternerstufftoys]

[Jaws pun]

Chaps, we ought to talk about the forgotten. The ones left behind. Those Transformers who made their name not as part of one of the kerzillions of G1 permutations, but from other lines. Those that can stand their ground as part of a CHUG collection, but have no significant presence within G1. Yesterday’s Barricade had started from the Bayverse and been officially imported via Siege. This week we'll look at a few more Decepticons with varying amounts of canonicity.

I mean, I absolutely hate the idea of using canon as a rigidly defined gospel anyway (ugh, mixing my theological metaphors). Do what you like, you don't need the word of a Hasbro employee to make your collection choices more or less legitimate. Case in point: Sky-Byte. Sure, he was brought into the IDW universe partway through, which technically makes him canon, but come on. His comic appearances mostly coincided with his Thrilling 30 toy's presence on shop shelves, and the moment they vanished, so did he, outside of a few scant cameos.

Far more importantly, Sky-Byte was pretty much the most memorable of the 2001 Robots in Disguise cartoon, mostly by virtue of being one of only a few genuinely original characters in the whole thing. Sideburn was Cheetor, X-Brawn was Ironhide, you know the drill. But an insecure warrior poet on the villain team was something new, so older fans who were finding the show otherwise snoozeworthy in how utterly bland and familiar it all was could perk up whenever Sky-Byte came on screen.

Let's be honest, RID was not a good show. Most of the criticisms of the following year's Armada cartoon could be laid at RID's feet as well. It's usually more fondly remembered though, which is probably due to the way that Armada's huge launch (a massive reboot of the franchise as a whole) was heavily hyped, and the resulting dreary mess of an anime was a huge letdown. Conversely, RID had relatively little hype, and with expectations still low after the poor reception of Beast Machines, RID could just sail through on a cloud of indifference.

Still, Sky-Byte just about earns his place as breakout character, being a huge pileup of weirdness wrapped in a suspiciously fishy shell. His original toy was a redeco of the Beast Wars Transmetal 2 character Cybershark, and by all accounts it's a toy which still more or less stands up these days. But simply rereleasing an old toy would look suspiciously lazy, so a new T30 toy was designed. All well and good, and all they had to do was find a way to improve on that 15 year-old design. And...

...and that's the problem. While T30 Sky-Byte is a decent enough toy, it needed to blow its predecessor clean out of the water to make it's own mark, but it really struggles in that regard. There's just too many ways to criticise it, most notably the utterly lacklustre robot limbs. It's easy to see the problem, and how the design tried to solve it. Like with a number of Prime toys, Sky-Byte tries to minimise his shellformer nature by folding kibble up into the limbs... but it never really works. The right bicep and both shins reveal an absolute lack of substance within, the kibble forming armour plating on top of nothing whatsoever. The right hand is particularly poor, unable to properly hold any 5mm accessories and showing up the fact that the elbow is orientated wrong, curving inward rather than upward. Great for shaking your fist at the sky or calling Scourge a wanker, but rubbish for everything else.

He makes much more sense in shark mode, but best of luck getting him there. The transformation is a right faff, not quite to the level of Straxus, but not far off. Unsurprisingly it essentially involves wrapping the shark bits around the remaining shards of robot skeleton, but the finished effect is something of a looker. But the problem here is that Sky-Byte's permanently fused into an arcing pose, as if leaping out of the water to grab some poor sod out of the air or something. Put him flat on a surface then, and it looses all that dynamism, and just looks a bit naff. What you need is a 3mm figure stand to plug up the tiny shark bumhole and show off his mighty leap. So I did, only to have the end of the stand break off inside said bumhole and become permanently lodged in there. With no way of pushing it out from the other side it got stuck in a vaccuum, which is a problem I know the designers are aware of because every other joint on every other toy since 1995 has had slits and holes to let air through when disconnecting them.

So to recap: the one and only Transformer to specifically require a flight stand does not come with one, and is in serious danger of breaking such a stand if you try and use it. That really isn't okay.

Again, this is not an upgrade from the 2001 toy. It is at best a side-step, replacing one fun but flawed toy with an entirely different fun and flawed toy. But at least the old one didn't have a bumhole that ate everything it came into contact with.

[insomniac-arrest]

A Seamstress for Superheroes

genre: superhero, wlw, original

words: 7k

summary:  A B-List superhero keeps meeting up with a young seamstress as she gets her costume repaired, Ally Alvarez soon becomes a little attached to her drop-by vigilante friend- though she wishes she would stop jumping off roofs

warning for genre-typical violence and injury

She looked like one of those all-American girls who woke up in the 1940s and said ‘golly’ and ‘cat’s pajamas.’ She had a sheet of blinding blonde curls that hung shoulder-length and a pair of blue eyes ripped out of a Nebraska sky and a tinted instagram filter. Her smile was a blistering sun across her face and her nails were all slightly chipped.

She was a couple inches taller than Ally, but much more stocky and muscled, like a compact wall of round edges and steel. The body of a lifter and soft curves of someone who enjoyed pizza at midnight.

She walked in with a smile of someone whose face was only distantly related to their mouth, it smiled with the force of seismic meteorological events. Her teeth were slightly crooked and had an impressive gap in the front, but she made it work in the way Capes often did.

She reminded her of a character from Saturday morning cartoons: feckless confidence and a catchphrase. Ally would bet ten dollars the young woman had a catchphrase.

She also assumed she wouldn’t like anyone with no indoor voice and looked like a billboard girl trying to sell her Doritos or Victoria Secret superhero panties. Ally pushes that last thought aside and tried to put on a brave face.

It was a Friday night, of course, and thirty minutes before closing. She came in with a major hole in her side and a pint of blood running down her leg like a painter going through their ‘red’ phase

“Anyone home?” Ally wasn’t sure if the girl knocked or not, but in her head she didn’t.

Ally stuck her head out from the back room where they kept the supplies, dog food, and Miss Susy’s gossip magazines. She blinked a couple times and struggles to suppress a sigh.

A Cape was standing in her doorway with a gore splatter on her side straight out of a term paper on violence in film. It leaked out from between her fingers right onto the floor tiles.

Ally took a deep breath and strode purposefully out, she looked her up and down.

“Do you need me to call an ambulance miss?” She asked in the way that people ask you for your coat when you walk in the door. She assumed she knew the answer, but it was polite to ask it anyway.

The young woman glanced down at herself, opening and closing her hand experimentally, “don’t worry about it darling.”

She had the slight accent of someone trying to suppress an accent. Maybe she was trying to be a classic Saturday Morning cartoon after all.

The woman looked back up and takes her hand away, grinning without even a cringe as she points. “Accelerated healing.” Ally could see the deep gash was indeed already mending itself like one of those fast-forward videos of a butterfly emerging from its cocoon. Except with tendons and muscles and skin creeping in around a grisly tear and Ally feeling slightly queasy.

She makes sure to keep her face neutral, she was a professional.

“Whoops,” she sidesteps her own blood as she makes her way to the counter, “um,” she coughs into her hand before looking up, “are you Mrs. Priscilla Alvarez?” She asks brightly, just ignoring her own easter egg trail behind her. She looks up and around, “I’ve heard great things about this place.” Ally keeps her eyes up, “Mrs. Priscilla is my employer,” well, mother technically, “but I can handle any order on her behalf.” Even if was thirty minutes to closing.

The woman seems to bounce on her heels, “great!” Her gap-teeth reappeared like the sun with a hole in the middle. “Because I sort of have a quick turnaround time.” “How quick?” She eyes her.

The other woman shuffled her feet on the floor, “Tomorrow?” She almost croaked, looking a little guilty.

Ally kept herself from twitching, “for full blood service?” She gives her a steady, if not skeptical, look.

“I know it’s a lot to ask,” she bit her lip, her Nebraska Sky Blue eyes lighting up, “but I have to face off with my arch-nemesis Polar Winter tomorrow. You know, Polar Winter, nefarious villain with the goal to sink Manhattan into the ocean and rule it with an icy fist! Holding it hostage for-” “Alright, alright.” She puts her hand up gently.

“And she challenged me to meet her at the UN tomorrow for our final face off. For her revenge! Or my victory.” She puffed her chest out, putting her hands on her hips like she was posing. “It’s gonna be totally awesome.” Ally raises both her eyebrows, “Sounds like.”

She clapped her hands together, “plus, I’ll tip huge, promise. I just got this Staples endorsement and I need to like, do something with it.” She laughs and Ally had the feeling she was the type of person to tell her anything she wanted to know with just one question.

Ally gave a shallow smile, “we’ll see what we can do.” She nods up and down enthusiastically, “I really do hear you’re the best in the business.”

Ally just hums and drums her fingers on the counter, “We like to keep a tight ship.” She points to some of the costumes behind her, some with distinguishable symbols like Holy Hell’s white flame and Strike-Fang’s orange stripes.

Her mouth made a tiny ‘o’, she reminds Ally of a kid who just came off the bus to make it on Broadway. She practically vibrated, “I’m already impressed, don’t worry.” Ally shakes her head slightly, “what time would pick up be? We can try for eleven, but it might be even extra for that.” She nods furiously, “My face-off is at 3. So, um, two? Would two work?” Ally gave a slow smile, “We can see what we can do.” She repeats the phrase and looks her up and down, “that’s quite a bit of blood.” She scratches the back of her head, “I’m a little new.” She picked at some of the drying blood on her leg.

Ally chuckles lowly, “don’t worry.” She has a strange impulse to encourage her, “New York needs all the heroes it can get. You’ll get practice.” She rubs her hands together, “if I can help in any way at all,” she rustles around her person, “shoot, I dropped my business cards.” Ally snorts softly, “that’s fine.” She turns to the cash register, “can I get a name for the order?” She blinks a couple times, “Oh!” She claps her hands, “right,” she grins and draws herself up, “I mean, it’s not set in stone yet. But,” she pauses to put her hands on her hips and spread her stance out, “you can call me Quantum Twist!”

Ally covers her face as she grins, just a bit.

“Right, um,” she starts putting in the services, “I’ll put it under Quantum Twist.” She clicks her pen and does a little math, it wouldn’t be cheap.

“And uh, one last thing.” The girl tapped her fingers together, “could um, could I get some clothes to walk home in? Promise, just one time.”

Quantum Twist’s face was a little red and Ally felt somewhat endeared by the bashfulness, as if she wasn’t just yelling a second ago. Ally brushes her hair aside again, “You won’t be the first.” The girl brightened up, “Wow,” she puts her hands down and Ally sees the completely healed wound. “You guys really have everything.” She looked her up and down. “What’s your name?” “Oh,” Ally hummed, “Ally. Ally Alvarez.” She put her hand out, “Ally,” she says in what Ally assumed was supposed to be heroic, “you’ve been a great help.” She shakes her hand tentatively and she gives her the bathroom key to change and walk home in an itchy brown sweater and care-bear sweatpants (to discourage heroes doing this too often).

Ally had a long night ahead of her.

-----

“Quantum Twist,” Ally snorts and scrubs harder, feeling the skin on her thumb already start to peel off. “She doesn’t even have a Q or T on here.” She shakes her head.

“And in other news, the sea levels have risen about an inch from Siren Calls’s newest attack on the waterfront. Luckily, it’s already being reversed by…”

Ally rolls her eyes and turns the volume down on the TV, it was a Saturday and they still had all their cameras pointed at one masked felon or another. Ally mumbles to herself, “who bleeds this much?” She squeezes the material and tries again.

“You think you’d be used to it,” she hears a ragged voice call as some heavy footsteps come down the stairs.

“Gram,” Ally perks up, “wait, wait.” She goes to stand up after trying to hand wash their newest suit.

“I can still get down the stairs by myself Alona, sheesh,” she says hoarsely and hears several more thumps as her grandma bustles down the stairs into the second story work space.

It was technically a five story building where her family both lived and worked, which Alley wouldn’t have personally chosen. But here she was.

Her grandma clicks her tongue at her as she sees her by the tub of soapy water, “have you used the ammonia yet?” “Of course I’ve used the ammonia.” She almost goes to stick her tongue out at her like she’s six, she restrains herself.

“Do we need to get your mother?” “No no,” Ally gets back to work, “and don’t call Tommy either. I got this.” Her grandma raised her eyebrows, making her whole leathery face shift like a crinkled brown bag. “Good to see taking this seriously. Last weekend you told me you were retiring to eat, what was it?” “Cereal, lot’s of cereal.” She says dryly

Her grandma mumbles something under her breath at her, she squares her jaw.

“And that was a joke gram, it’s not like I have a choice on taking this seriously or not.” She grumbles.

“It’s your calling Alona. You’re the best mender we have,” she feels her grandma pat the top of her head, “you’ll see. It will all fall into place.”

She rolls her eyes, “have you been talking to that hotline psychic again? Because I’ll call them up and probably get a confirmation that eating cereal all day is my calling after all.”

“Hmph,” her grandma makes a grunting noise as she settles herself down in her large comfy chair. “Don’t get snippy with me young lady, that’s a lot of blood still left on there.” Alley groans and starts scrubbing harder, she hadn’t even started sewing yet. Her grandma turns the volume on the TV back up.

“Milk prices are down today after orange juice deliveries were halted in Southern Florida…” Twenty-two, she curses to herself, twenty-two and still at home.

She’s starting to see some very slow results when some of the TV drone catches her attention.

“The newest superhero in the yard is a new blonde-bombshell named ‘Quantum Twitch.’ She was seen yesterday taking down veteran villain Polar Winter, commenters across the internet have since latched onto the showdown.”

Ally turned her head and looked over to observe her newest client, it was a blurry phone camera but it was clear that the super hero packed a punch. She twisted in midair and sent an entire car back around at the ice villain.

Someone down below whistled.

“Now, that’s what I call an opening statement,” Ally rolled her eyes at the commenters, “Let’s hear from some people on the street.”

“She came right out the sky like an airdrop…” Ally went back to ignoring the TV and scrubbing the last of the blood out of the elastic material. It was pretty cheap compared to other heroes costumes where everything was designed to roll off.

“... I mean I can see why her initials are Q T is all I’m saying.” Ally glances back over as she hears one commentator's heavily accented voice. He was grinning as he pointed up, “like, you know that show. Whatis it called? The one that covered Tornado Gals nip-slip. Super-dos-and-donts? Anyway, they put her on that ‘superguy can’t even lift’ list, but I don’t think that was fair. I was right up close and personal with her, and I’ll tell ya,” he does another whistle. “So what if she…”

Ally blew air out of her nose, “I wish you wouldn’t watch this crap gram.” She calls loudly. “It’s the news, get out your needle Alona, I don’t want you sewing during breakfast.” She shakes her head and tests the material once more, at least it was drying quickly as she stretches it to make sure it doesn’t shrink. “I’ll try.” Her skin prickles as she tries to push back the sounds of the news commentators, the words kept circling her ears. This girl had to be only around her age and they were already doing this, she frowns down at the outfit decidedly.

She begins the first stitch and watches her own hands move.

That was the first mend.

----------

Two Months Later

Ally doesn’t look up when she hears the bell on the door jingle, her eyes were down on the sequins she was attaching to Sunrise Masquerades cape (it was apparently for a show).

“Ally!” She winces and attempts to continue to weave in and out, “Ally, it’s for you!”

Ally puts a heavy put-upon sigh, “can’t you handle it Tommy?” “I know you’re just in the back,” she hears a teasing voice and Ally tisks to herself.

“I swear,” she comes out from behind a series of dry-cleaned suits, “if you’ve put another hole in my…” Quantum Twist was standing in front of her, holding up a battered red and yellow suit like she was almost proud of it.

Ally groans, “this is some sort of retribution, isn’t it?” The hero leans forward, “someone sounds like they don’t want my money.” Ally shakes a fist at her, “someone keeps ruining my handiwork. This was just last week!”

Quantum Twist rubs the back of her head, “I had a run in with the Electric Lazer. He had a few things to say to me, I’ll tell you.” Ally crosses her arms over her chest, “I saw.” She says dryly, “you tore up a piece of the leg material to hold that steal beam up. Ugh.” She heard an audible ‘whap’ as Q.T. slapped her hands on the wood, “you were watching?” Her eyes were sparkling and Ally has to gulp.

“Just give it here,” she puts her hand out and the hero was buzzing again.

“Did you see the part where I punched through his motherboard?” “Yes yes.” “He started crying!” She hoots, “did you see where I stopped that building from coming down?” She smoothed one of her eyebrows down, “pretty slick.” Ally reaches over and pinches her cheek, “why don’t you let me just build you a new suit from scratch, huh?” She held up the elastic head-to-foot covering, “this thing is threadbare.” “Hmm,” The hero pouts slightly, “I am not actually made of money. Your mom’s designs are like… next level!” She looks up, her blue eyes pooling in the light. Ally could almost see a ‘one day’ whispered under her breath.

Ally starts bundling up the hero suit, “I saw you do that gatorade commercial.” She says dryly, “don’t tell me they paid you in wafers and bad hair dye.” “My hair is naturally-” she stops when she sees Ally giving her a wry look. “Yeah yeah,” she waves her off, “Just don’t read the youtube comments on that thing.” Ally ducked her head down, she had read the youtube comments, even after she told herself she wouldn’t. Quantum Twist put her head down, “I should get acting lessons.” “Maybe?” She feels a slight tug on her sleeve, “don’t just agree with me.” “I’m just saying,” she puts her hands up, “most humans don’t say ‘I’ve been quenched’ while pouring gatorade on their head.” “That’s what the script said!”

She was laughing, “the robot that lives in your voice box might not have helped.” “Dammit,” Quantum Twist looked away, she huffed, “I’m finding a new seamstress.” All propped herself up on her elbow, “would she be as cute as me though?” Quantum Twist turns to her, something glinting in her eye. She picked up her yellow dry cleaning receipt for later pick-up. Her teeth gleamed as she leaned over, “of course not.” Ally felt a slight shiver go through her spine as she said it, low and almost secretive. It reminds her of when she used to read her favorite parts of dirty novels out loud to herself, just to revel in the sound of the bad words.

She turns her face away, “good.” She grunts, “they can handle your constant terrorizing of their hard work.” She holds up the ragged piece of clothing, Ally was already turning around.

She laughs, “See you next week!” She waves and Ally can only see her go.

That was the fifth mend.

--------

It happened two weeks into summer, Ally’s fan was already on high and her turquoise shorts and overly large tennis shirt flapped in the blast of air. She was sitting on her bedroom floor with her laptop propped up in front of her.

She liked to watch it a little farther away this time of night, her volume was almost all the way down and she was slowing munching on kennel corn, working her way through an entire bucket.

She was letting the hours creep by in a sweet nothingness when she heard a clattering on the window, a soft patter on the tiny balcony by her window. Ally jumps and grabs for her baseball bat she kept by her bed.

Click, another littering of sound makes her hands sweat and she creeps forward. She calls out loudly like her mama taught her.

“Costume Doctors Tailor and Mending shop is not liable for any heroics it’s users get up to in their products,” she calls to the closed window, the hairs on her arm already standing on end. “You hear me? We have insurance.” She crawls up to the glass, pausing to feel the window for cracks or ice.

“You up?” She jumps as a bright shiny face pops up.

“Oh my God,” she clutches at her heart before falling all the way on her ass, her mouth gapes for a moment before she throws a pillow next to her, “we’re closed, idiot!”

The girl grimaces before standing upright on the short balcony, “sorry, sorry,” she had a deep red bloody mark over her shoulder and shins, “I just saw you were up.” Ally creeps a little closer, “you weren’t spying on me, were you?”

Quantum Twist shakes her head, there was something heavy about it. Reserved. “I just,” she sighs. “I don’t know.” She turned away from the city and back to midtown. “I should go-” “Wait,” Ally managed to open her windows up outward, “you’re bleeding again.” The hero glanced at her, “sorry.” She frowns, “I didn’t want to bleed on your stuff, this whole outfit was just falling off, so I thought.” She chewed on her lip.

Ally blew a piece of hair out of her face, “here,” against her better judgment, she reaches over to her nearest pin cushion. “There’s probably something I can do.” “Really?” There was a silver strain in the girl’s voice, bags were hanging under her eyes like caskets. “Cause that would be a huge help, I have to go finish chasing Storm Hawk in the sewers and I wasn’t,” she takes a deep breath, “I wasn’t ready yet.” Ally puts her hand out and tries to gesture at her, “well sit down.” She slumps to the floor of the balcony, with her shoulders sloping to the side and her head tilting back, “you don’t have to tell me twice.” Something pangs in Ally’s chest, “I swear,” she starts examining the brunt of the damage, “this is going to take a lot of pins.” She started to put them in between her teeth, “an’ may’me some tape.” She laughs a little darkly, “I’m open to tape.” She feels her head drop, “just can’t take it off. Not yet.” Ally shakes her head, “you’ll work yourself into the grave.” She says as she sticks the first pin carefully into the shoulder material. That part would have to hold.

“I guess that’s the point,” She chuckles darkly and Ally freezes. Quantum Twist glances back at her and Ally felt herself scowling.

“You better not,” she says lowly, grabbing her cheek and pinching it.

“Ow, ow, ow.” “All you Capes are the same,” she almost growls, “you think you're living some fast-paced sparkly dare devil life-: “I don’t I don’t,” she protests as Ally squeezes, “I’ll stay alive, promise.” Ally lets her go, “good.” She drops her hand and feels something squiggle inside her, “because we don’t need any more dead clients.” “Right,” The girl looked off into the distance, rubbing her cheek absently, “and if I do?” Ally’s mouth hangs open, she sniffs loudly, “if you die you’ll be least favorite customer.” She finds another pin, “after all the mends I’ve done for this suit.” She snorts, “alright,” she leans back on her like she might start to fall to pieces, “I wouldn’t want that.” She grins, the real grin that captured sunflowers and forces of nature. “You are my favorite shop, so I’ll try not to be your worst customer.” She chuckles.

Ally takes another piece of cloth and pieces it together across her shredded back, she winces. “Maybe get in less scrapes altogether.” She says under her breath.

The hero was leaning on her now, leaning on her shins as she sat in front of her. “How else would I see you then?” Ally pauses and tilts her head to the side, “Well, Quantum Twist, you coul-” “Sunny.” “No, actually, it’s quite dark out... How many fingers am I holding up?” she tries to look into her eyes to see if the pupils are blown up or hazy.

The girl laughs, “Sunny Lepinski,” she reaches her hand up, “nice to meet you.” “Oh,” something catches in her throat, “yeah.” She looks at her hand for another long moment, “Sunny.” They shake.

She grins widely, “everyone say it fits.”

“You want me to,” she searches the air, “to know?”

The hero, no, Sunny, shrugs, “We’ve known each other enough.” She shifts beneath her, “you seem like the good sort. Snappiness aside.” “I’m holding sharp objects,” she says plainly, Sunny’s chest shakes as she laughs.

“See? Ally and Sunny. We’ll get on.”

Ally’s eyes go soft, “well Sunny,” she clears her throat, “as I was saying, there are better ways to meet. Like at a bakery. Or in line for the bank.” She whistles back, “the bank you say, very captivating.” She tugs on her hair and Sunny winces again, “or perhaps a wrestling ring?” Sunny snickers and then reaches up, for a moment, just a moment, Ally let’s her take her hand. “Sorry darling,” she says hoarsely, the scrapes and calluses on her hands feeling like jagged lines and harsh prickles. “I’d think I’d win.”

Ally bites the inside of her mouth before clearing her throat, “not if I had my needle with me.” Sunny snorts, “I’ll give you that!”

Ally smiles, like a personal victory to make her laugh a real life in the middle of the night while she bled on her balcony.

“Now,” Sunny glances at her, “let’s talk about that show you were just watching.” Ally freezes, “No, let’s really not.” “Were the ladies playing sand volleyball or was that a bikini shoot?” “It’s a show! It’s on the CW.”

“Sure.”

They bicker and mend and she makes her laugh at least two times more, Ally barely notices when it almost hits two. She barely notices when she had finished doing all she could for that costume.

Then they hear a far off shriek, “oh.” She says softly.

Sunny pauses too, “well,” she cracks her neck before looking back at Ally, “I’ll probably be back in tomorrow.” Ally messages her temple, “on one condition.” She holds up a finger.

“Anything,” Sunny says brightly.

“Let me make you a new costume,” she pokes her, “It won’t even be a fortune if you let me design it instead of my mom.” Sunny’s eyes were alive with something, “well,” she squirms from side to side, “if you insist.” Ally blows air out of her nose but Sunny reaches over and squeezes her shoulder. “Tha-” “Aaaaaaahh,”

Sunny turns away and Ally can only wave briefly before she’s jumping off the roof, “new costume. Later!”

She sighs into her hands, “Goodbye Sunny Lepinski.”

That was the eighth mend.

----------

She was Polish. Polish-American, her dad being first generation. She had originally come from a little place outside of Chicago, but had heard New York is where you make it as a hero.

Her manager was constantly trying to get her to get braces, but Sunny was afraid that would hurt like hell if a villain punched her while she had those. Ally had to agree.

She lived in Queens and took the subway here each time, she had two yellow labs named ‘Liberty’ and ‘Justice,’ which was the worst. And finally a cat named Furball.

Ally almost stopped talking to her right then and there, but Sunny happened to have brought Liberty in that day, and it was hard to stay mad with a dog licking your face.

Her dad was also a Cape, but he wasn’t with them anymore. That made Ally feel worse about her comment about Capes working themselves into the grave, but Sunny seemed to move past it. She moved past a lot.

The tabloids were the worst, but they were the worst anywhere.

Sunny was genial most days, even covered in bruises and bad cuts. She was what she called a ‘bad physics major’ at NYU and a worse philosophy major after two drinks.

She became a regular moment in Ally’s life, just a bright little moment.

She was sitting on the edge of her bathtub one night, letting the hot water run over one of her legs and staring off into nothing.

“So this is some sort of poison?” Ally asks as she looks over the burned, slick flesh.

Sunny looks up slowly, “doc said my body should be able to reject it.” Ally wrinkled her nose, “I don’t like that.” Sunny put a hand on her shoulder, “neither will all the citizens who get sprayed by that stuff tomorrow.” She nudges her new suit toward her, “I mean, I could fight Toxic Archer naked, buuuut,”

“I get it, I get it,” she bent down just as Sunny said that. The other woman was in her underwear sitting in her bathtub.

Just a pair of gray boxers and black sports bra, but still. She started sewing.

Sunny eases her head back as one leg swung in the hot water and Ally watched the steam make her cheek shiny and damp. She takes a deep breath. They sit there for several long moments as Sunny’s skin grew back.

Ally chews on the inside of her cheek and tries to keep her eyes down, but something digs its way out of her mouth,

“Are you going to that superhero ball thing?” She tries to ask naturally.

“Hmm?” Sunny blinked her eyes open like she had almost been asleep, Ally felt a little bad.

“The Global um, Heroes Charity, uh,” she fumbled through the words like a determined swimmer in a deep pool.

Sunny rubs her blurry eyes, “nah.” She snorts, “it’s basically a bunch of douches in suits and masks trying to get a movie about them.” She shook her head. “You don’t need to make me anything.”

Ally watches her own fingers go in and out of the tough material, “No, I just read,” She pauses, Sunny has her eyes on her. “Just read you were.”

Sunny clears her throat, “I try not to read about myself.” She gives a weak smile, “In fact, I swear if I see another article about my ass I’m gonna scream.” Ally leaned back on the bathtub, looking at her sideways, “those are usually pretty big.” “Hey!” Sunny splashes her gently and she pushes on her good leg.

Ally put her hands up, “Kidding, it was a compliment.” Sunny rolled her eyes, “I should write to them. Dear Bad Journalists.”

Ally itches slightly, she hums, “I just read that Red Bolt was taking you to those charity balls.” She concentrates on her needlework as she speaks, making sure she doesn’t stab herself.

Sunny lets out a grough laugh, “Red Bolt?” She lets out a single laugh, “Oh my God. Where did you read that? Must be a rag.” Ally gives a private little exhale, gently blowing air out of her mouth. She finishes neatly up with the gash in the hip area of the costume, she leans on the bathtub, “must be.” Sunny flicks her in the head, “I would never.” She props herself up, “I wouldn’t even have the right outfit for that. Red? Too much red.” Ally wets her lips, “Obviously, we could make you one.” She clicks her tongue, “but then they would definitely ask about your ass there.”

“Ugh,” Sunny groans, “are friends now? Can I smother you with a pillow yet?” “I was saying the truth!” They both chuckle and Ally flattens the costume out.

“There,” she turns to her, keeping her eyes up and away from her underwear clad body: marred with burn stains and healing little marks. “You can get yourself beat up again.” She winces and reaches out, “perfect.”

Ally holds it just out of her grasp, her eyes soften, “just,” she shifts from side to side, “be careful.” Sunny takes a long heaving moment to push herself up, the wound on her leg looked like it was taking its sweet time to close. Ally felt Sunny’s powers gently twist her closer, a soft peck was pressed into her head.

“I always am.”

Ally stands there for a long moment, she got a kiss on the head. “Why don’t I believe you?” She didn’t hear her.

That was the eleventh mend.

------

Ally was tired, she was tired in her fingers and her bones and the ache in her spine that said she had been standing too long. Her eyes kept feeling like they wanted to shudder closed on her for good and she couldn’t help but sigh with every step.

Her mom had taken on more clients for the hero charity season, where they pretended it was the red carpet for Capes and all upgraded their looks. It didn’t help that their main fabric dealer was all the one in Long Island, making Ally take the subway there what felt like every other day at rush hour.

She was carrying a bag of jelly roll fabric that was a breathable material with maximum fire resistance. They call it ‘Miracle Fiber’ but it was heavy and made her feel like Sisyphus rolling his bolder back and forth (between Manhattan and Long Island).

It was only four, but she had been up since six doing errands, maybe that’s why she didn’t run out of the way right away as the building started to crash.

She got off the subway with the afternoon rush and ended up on third avenue walking up toward central park and their shop. The rumbling started way before she arrived, but she was in too much of a hurry to pause and consider it.

It was New York, things rumbled.

Crrrrrraacccckz

Ally has a moment to look up before a tall ruddy brown building is bursting like a party balloon, columns of dust and debris flying in all directions.

“AAaaaah!” The screaming starts, it’s a vibrant slap of color across her face, Ally tries to take a leap forward but the rubble is crashing right over her head.

“Never fear!”

Ally is scrambling from the noise and the debris flying overhead, then she feels an arm wrap around her waist and a twist in midair. She recognized this sensation.

A woman with a red and yellow suit and a Q and T on the back whipped around in the air, her blonde hair waving and the whole world spinning in circles. Quantum Twist, with the power of reorientation.

Sunny hoists her off the ground and twists them in midair along with the rest of the rubble, keeping them in her ‘revolution orbit’ as she called it and spinning off into a safer direction. Several more quick moments of rotating and clearing building guts follows.

They finally land haphazardly on the building across the street, Sunny plasters Ally to her side as their feet touch down and her head swims.

“Woah,” Ally holds her mouth as she tries not to puke.

Sunny dips her gently, keeping her close, the hero faces outward, “don’t worry fair citizens.” Ally could have rolled her eyes at the over-playing, the Saturday morning cartoon girl all over again. “The building has been secured.” Ally hears a woosh from somewhere to her left and she hopes it’s the villain fleeing. She didn’t need any more antics that day.

“Wooo!” She hears cheering from down below and Ally unthinkingly peaks over the edge.

She feels instantly dizzy as she realizes they must be on the top of one of the 10 story high rises, Ally leans away from the edge and holds tighter to the only one of them that could fly. Sunny was still doing her hero pose, feet wide, back straight, smile on like a 100 watt light bulb. “Thank you Quantum Twist!” Someone yells from down below and waves.

“It’s just my job,” she waves back, having clearing the whole area of a spray of death from above.

Ally holds on tightly to her waist as she feels the air whip around them, “my hero.” She says dryly as she glances over.

“Don’t mention it,” Sunny says under her breath with an equally wry rasp.

Ally sighed and grabbed onto her side, “you didn’t actually need to pick me up.” Sunny winked, “maybe I wanted to.” “Are you going to the Charity Ball with Red Bolt miss Twist?” A reporter was scrambling on the ground. “He says he’ll adjust the sun in the sky for you.” “God I hope he doesn’t,” Sunny grumbles before holding Ally tightly and reoriente gravity to ease them back onto the ground.

Ally knows she doesn’t have to cling to her as they float slowly down, but it felt okay to do so.

“I’m sure the police can take it from here,” Sunny gives a brief salute, “I’m glad to see no casualties from the nefarious Boom Buster, who I should go chase. Right now.” “Miss Twist!” More reporters came around the corner, “do you have any comments on the People magazine article-” The reporters dive for Ally too, “Citizen, how do you feel being saved? Are you going to rate this on Heroics.com?” They all began talking at once and Ally feels a loss as the disentangle themselves.

“This hapless citizen is safe,” Sunny winks subtly and Ally makes a face at her, “I must be off.” “Wait,” Ally reaches out as the camera’s flash, “thank you kind hero. Let me repay you.” She says it in her most crooning voice, bridging the gap between them swiftly.

She gives a teasing kiss on the side of her cheek, “thanks for making me seasick.” She whispers and pecks her again on the cheek.

“Miss Twist!” More reporters roar.

“Uh,” Sunny stands there with a dumbstruck look on her face before turning, “Bye!”

Sunny looked particularly red in the face as she sped away with the speed of gravity tugging her violently in the opposite direction.

Ally chuckles and watches her back.

She would mend her a new costume in the morning/

That would be the sixteenth fix.

----------

It was almost 2 am, Ally wasn’t watching TV this time, she was waiting anxiously by the window as it felt like her heart might fall out her ass. Her head was pounding and she could taste something gray and musty in her mouth.

She chewed anxiously on the bottom of her lip, “come on.” She started to swear, “fuck, come on.”

She was shaking and not taking her eyes away from the skyline, let her come, let her come. Lord, just let her find her way here.

She almost jumps out of her skin when she first heard the knock on the door, “Sunny?!” Her voice comes out shrill and pained.

She hears another knock as someone sticks her head in, “sweetie.” Her mom, with her tight hair coiled in a bun at the very top of her head and her sharp eyes and pursed mouth. They regard each other warily.

Ally’s shoulders fall down, “I’ll go to sleep soon mama.” She murmurs without meeting her eye.

Her mom lets out a small sigh, “your grandma wanted me to bring you this.” Her mom held a cup of what appeared to steaming liquid. “It’s honey and milk.” Ally’s eyes don’t quiet focus as she shifts in bed, “thanks mama. You can leave it on the desk.”

Her mom frowns and she shuts the door behind her as she walks in, “Alley…” She says slowly, “it’s not… I told you.” She sounded tired too. “I know,” Ally scowls, “I’m not invested in the clients.” She knew, she already said it, they all worked themselves into the grave. That’s what her family always said.

Her mom walks across the room and squeezes her hand, “I know I ask a lot of you.” Ally’s gaze darts up hotly, something brimming just under her stinging eyes. “If you didn’t want me to get attached why do you bring them all in? Why did you,” she begins tremble, “Why did we keep fixing them up?”

Her eyes start to overflow, her breathes coming in heaving shuddering gasps, “how is she gonna come back from that? How do I fix,” her tears keep streaming down like they might never stop.

“I know,” her mom wraps her arms around her shoulder, “we’re doing our part. These things happen.” Ally pushes her off, “her arm was fucking ripped off on live television!” She screams and balls up her hands in her hair, “you don’t,” she lets out an anguished wail. “You don’t come back from that.”

She sees her grandma at the door behind them, she was drooping, sad.

“They’re doing their part,” she lifts her chin up, “we all do.” She kisses her forehead, “you’ve done everything you can honey.” Ally wipes away the large fat tears one at a time, most of them running freely down her nose and chin, “you brought them in,” she weakly pushes her chest away, “You’re the great Priscilla Alvarez! We do our part to dress them up for the morgue!”

“You know that’s unfair Alona.” She says sharply.

She screams, “she’s only twenty! She’s,” Ally’s voice breaks, “she’s my friend.”

Her mama holds her again as she relives again and again the image of her best friend being torn apart and her falling, falling away like an afterthought.

She was tired. So tired.

There was no mending that night.

---------

It took Ally five days to locate where Sunny actually lived, it was strange you could know someone for almost two years and never even know where they resided. She took the subway to Queens and held her own shaking hands the whole way.

Her brother gave her some sort of assorted bread basket to take, he didn’t look her in the eye as he handed it over. “Tell her I’m sorry I placed all those newspaper headlines out when she came in.” He shakes, “I thought it was funny then, but, but, yeah.”

Ally didn’t know what to say and she sets off. She brings her needle, just in case. Her mom tries to say something too, but Ally just shakes her head and leaves.

It takes nine stops and a walk down three neighborhoods before gets in the right region. “203,” she murmurs, “203.

Ally didn’t know superheroes lived in sublets with creaking gates and ancient cherry blossom trees surrounding them, but that’s where she soon found herself. A little old brown house with a low fence around it.

She knocks three times before almost deciding to burst in. She hears a faint bark from within and whistles, “Open the door Justice,” she calls inside to the dog, “lemme in.” She hears some shuffling footsteps and a heavy weight on the door, “you know you’re not supposed to know where I live.” A voice calls heavily from within, Ally could have cried again. “Client-patron confidentiality.”

“Sunny,” she touches the warm wood from outside, “Sunny, tell me you’re okay.”

She doesn’t hear anything from within, just the slight sound of pained breathing. “I’m okay. As okay as I can be.” She finally heard a small voice say, “you saw it though. Huh?”

“My grandma never turns the damn news off,” she swallows thickly and tries to keep it together, “let me in?”

“I’m not sure you want to see,” her friend says in a tired voice, “my costume is going to need some alterations. I know you’ll mind.” Ally paws at her face, the wetness gathering again. “Don’t put it back on.” She begs hoarsely, “never put it back on.”

She hears a very very long pause, the type of pause that made you think maybe the world had frozen over and the birds had stopped singing. That made you shiver slightly.

She hears the door unlock and a very blonde head cautiously look out, “what good would that do?” Ally dove through the opening and tried to hug every inch of her, she buries her face in the other girls chest and lets out a sob, “you’re the worst.” She feels one arm come hesitantly to wrap around her shoulders, “Ally,” she says softly, “please Ally.” “I’m sorry,” she quietly pieces herself back together as she pulls back, touching Sunny’s face softly, “I’m sorry for it all.” Sunny grimaces slightly, “I’m sorry you had to see it.” She sighs and rubs the back of her head with the hand she had left, “I wasn’t careful.” Ally could have screamed, “you shouldn't have to.” She shakes, her body vibrating. “You’re not fucking soldiers.”

“Maybe,” Sunny gives a sad look and opens her mouth, “But, you know,” she bends her head down, “I always knew it.” Ally doesn’t let go of her as she asks, “knew what?” Sunny kisses Ally’s shoulder, “that you were a big softie under all that prickliness.” Ally wipes at her face again before meeting her eye, “I never wanted to be a seamstress,” she said grudgingly, “I wanted to be a florist.” “Really?” “No,” she kisses the edge of her chin, “but we could be anything else.” She holds her hand. “Anything else.” Sunny bites her lip, “I can’t leave.” She says steadily, “this is… this is who I am.”

Ally shakes her head, “why don’t we become something else?” She offers softly, “anything.” “What?” Sunny cocks her head the side, “like bakers or dog walkers or bad ventriloquists?” She laughs with sandpaper in her throat, “I’d love that.” She kisses the side of her face and something unsaid goes between them.

Sunny taps their foreheads together, “I’m not sure I’d very good at that.” She winces, “I’m not sure if I’d be good at anything else.” Ally gradually, ever so slowly pushes herself up on her tiptoes, she presses a kiss so soft to her mouth that it feels like a warm, wet rain. The wet part was probably her fault, their breaths mix and the kiss makes her chest tighten and her heart sing.

She pulls back, “then let’s be bad at things together.” She nuzzles her neck, “somewhere away from this.” Ally picks her up and swings her round, kissing the side of her mouth and then her jaw and then her mouth all over again.

“Run away with me she says,” she kisses her again, “one handed and all.” “As long as the rest of you stops running into battle zones every time you see them.” She wraps her arms around her neck.

“Fine by me,” she kisses her nose. “And no more magazine covers.” She clicks her tongue, “I’ll fight Red Bolt if I have to.” She puts her hand through the other girl’s hair like she always wanted to. “And throw all of Manhattan into the sea myself.” Sunny throws her arm up, “finally!” She crows with a laugh, “and you’ll teach me sew up my own pants I suppose.” Ally holds her close, “finally.”

She does one last mend.

[yarnzipangirl]

And now, from the rewatch of Batman Vs Superman: Dawn of Justice (Ultimate Edition because I love myself):

-I am reasonably certain that Clark’s emotional state during 98% of this movie is just ‘WHY THIS?’ with a dash of ‘CAN YOU NOT?’

-I can understand people who are annoyed we had to watch the Waynes die AGAIN, and yet, I cannot imagine this movie without this scene in it.  Because this movie is the very first time I feel like a Batman-having movie actually made Bruce’s motivation have any true meaning outside of kind of excusing why a man with that kind of resources would be Batman.  It makes it clear that the equation isn’t “boy loses parents, decides to fight crime”; it’s “boy loses his whole world, decides to fight LOSS” and that is a vital VITAL difference, especially for this movie.  

-also this is the most beautifully shot thing, and again I applaud Snyder’s tendency to reintroduce the importance of the mother in this situation.  Also that shell casing hitting the ground gets mirrored later and it kills me.

-and that Bruce’s father dies after curling his fist, dies in anger when he was a doctor, sworn to do no harm, feels like foreshadowing, like a warning; when a good man breaks his vows, goes darker, nothing good comes of it.  (And yes, I understand he was defending his family, totally reasonable, but we’re talking about this moment as metaphor, as how Bruce REMEMBERS it).

-oh god, I forgot Jimmy Olsen was Grant Gabriel on Smallville.  *FACEPALMS FOREVER*

-hey Bruce, when TEENAGE GIRLS are afraid of you, perhaps time to reconsider your life decisions.  The fact that he doesn’t even try to take care of them or comfort them says SO MUCH about where his head is.

-I feel like if there was justice in the world, every time someone described DCEU Superman as an ‘unfeeling god’ they would have to watch the 10 seconds where Clark comes in to see Lois bathing with his goobery little glasses and his grinny face like she hung the moon and his little bag of groceries to make her dinner and the flowers just for her and how he’s literally just so in love with her he can’t stand not stepping into the tub to kiss her Right Then.  Still didn’t get it?  Again.  Nope, you don’t get the abs.  You don’t DESERVE the abs.

-Alfred deserves all the scotch.  All of it.  And a raise, if only for dealing with this betta fish of a human being we call Batman.  I feel like Clark should have been able to hear Alfred screaming ‘fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck’ the entire movie at registers too high for others to hear because that is definitely how he feels.

-I will defend this Lex Luthor to my dying breath because this motherfucker scares me.  And he scares me because unlike the other kind, I’ve MET this motherfucker.  This motherfucker ran a company I worked for.  All douchbro and open door policy and casual workplace until you don’t give him what he wants and then the knives come out.  And I think the reason why he doesn’t work for a lot of people is that we’re still in the era where this kind of businessman villain hasn’t been villainized properly yet.  We have the mental templates for the oil tycoon or the 90s environmentally disastrous CEO, the 00s real estate-stealing asshole, and now the 10′s Wall Street wolf, but THIS kind of monster is the one we’re still getting a feel for.  The (I hate to make this comparison) Mark Zuckerbergs, the tech moguls who are increasing human suffering in less direct, less easy to define ways while always pretending to help us.  In ways that to some degree people still admire.  Lex Luthor as a competent-Donald-Trump analogy is easy and familiar in comparison.  This is one step forward and while I wouldn’t say it’s without it’s faults, it’s brave as hell and real as hell.  This is OUR monster, folks.  

-Following up on the ‘Perry totally knows’, I’m pretty sure Perry gave him the sports piece to try and take his mind off of All The Terrible and was fighting him because goddammit, son, you can’t take on the world, it is KILLING YOU.

-I was absolutely livid with the original cut, I’m gonna be honest, and the reason boils down to (well, the parts where the plot literally doesn’t make sense re: blaming Superman but mostly) the fact that without Clark investigating the Batman, meeting people who are scared, who feel cornered, who have lost a husband and a father to that brand... Clark would never actually fight him.  Clark doesn’t GET angry at personal slights or personal threats.  He gets angry because Innocent People Are Living In Fear From This Asshole, that innocent people are dying either because the Batman hasn’t noticed that his brand victims die or DOESN’T CARE.  Without these pieces, Clark’s rage makes literally no sense and even his ‘civil liberties’ argument makes so little sense since ‘how would he know?’

-Clark’s little smile as Lois is Lois at him, basically going ‘why yes, I’m going to throw myself into this pit of snakes to find a needle in the haystack UNDER these snakes’ mixed up with his concern and just UGH these two UGH

-the little sound clips of the world engine at various points, like when Bruce is going to the grave in his dream.  *SHAKES FIST TO THE SKY* AAAAAART

-and the angel in the stained glass with a blue tunic and a red cape.

-Okay, Bruce? Comparing Superman to the Joker is like... just flat unfair.

-Lex and Bruce both leave that little threeway meeting with purpose while Clark is just so clearly like ‘...what the fuck just happened?  What the- WHY ARE RICH PEOPLE LIKE THIS?”

-The amount of loathing Bruce has for the Bruce Wayne act conveyed purely through face acting is FABULOUS.  Bathroom excuse bathroom excuse OH MY GOD KILL ME I HATE EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS JACKASS I APPARENTLY AM.

-*insert me crying about How Unhappy Clark is re: all the people around him treating him like a savior and the whole reference to the skulls thing and just Clark, honey-*

-Clark needs to watch some cartoons.  Someone should just like... set his dial permanently to happy joyful things because the news is just Not Good.

-Once again, those people with the ‘unfeeling god’ nonsense, what with this unfeeling god calling his mother because he’s feeling lost and confused and he doesn’t know what’s the right thing to do.

-Bruce trying that Selina and Talia line on Diana: LOL.  Diana’s response: ALSO LOL.

-ngl, after certain things happened in GoT, I cannot imagine Clark standing in the flames at the capitol building without the subtitle of ‘...dammit Cersei’

-I will never understand how they ever thought cutting Clark bringing bodies/survivors out of the Capital Building was a scene they could cut.  It is So Vastly Important.  

-Alfred’s just... gonna stand here and watch Bruce become literally everything he hates, yup, up, this is great, this is Scotch scotch scotch scotch scotch scotch scotch and I Don’t Blame Him.

-Back to the ‘Perry White Totally Knows’ comment, that look at Lois while Lois begs for a helicopter?  Right after referencing that Superman is CLEARLY at the ship?  Hell yeah, Perry knows.  Also Perry is the man.

-I will also defend this fight to my dying goddamn day because Snyder knows how to do some beautiful things with cinematography and this is the ugliest, most brutal, painful fight to watch and it GODDAMN SHOULD BE.  Because heroes fighting heroes is ugly, because Bruce is ugly at this point, Clark is so lost and there is nothing really noble or ‘good’ in this fight.  Even Clark who’s fighting to try and save his mother is giving in to his frustration at everything, at the world, at this GUY who’s a giant douche to him in person and hurts people to make them do what he wants and doesn’t care when they die.  And I feel that’s a huge portion of this fight, that both of them feel the other one is apathetic to suffering and it makes them ANGRY.  

-...though I snerk every time at Bruce realizing the Kryptonite’s worn off.  Yeah.  Yeah, buddy.

-Also this most recent rewatch honestly completely changed my view on the Martha line.  I have, since the beginning, thought it was a good, meaningful scene that worked in the context of the movie, but I always thought it was clumsy.  It’s only now, watching it again, really taking in everything around it that I realize it DOES in fact make absolute sense, and it works perfectly.  Because Bruce has just been TALKING about Clark’s parents.  He doesn’t CARE that Clark has parents, doesn’t care that he has a mother and father.  Clark doesn’t say ‘save my mother’ because Bruce is That Far Gone.  But Clark called Bruce by name, KNOWS who he is: he doesn’t just say ‘Martha’ to save his own mother, he says ‘Martha’ because this is literally Clark’s last ditch effort to appeal to the human being named Bruce Wayne inside that batsuit.  He is trying to snap him out of this.  And he is trying to make his mother into a random bystander for Bruce to save so he WILL save her.  He is pointedly disassociating himself from his mother to try and save her; he is saying ‘fine, kill me, but you have to save this innocent woman’.  And it’s only the combination of these things that actually breaks through the 18 months of obsessive hatred.  Honestly, Lois telling him it’s his mother’s name is just icing on the cake, a quicker end.  Clark might have been on his back, with a spear in his face, but Clark Wins That Goddamn Fight because he pulled the play that made Batman into Batman again.

-you know, I’ve been looking forward to Clark coming back and seeing Martha see him and Lois and Bruce but DAMN if I can’t wait for Lex Luthor to see Clark returned to life.  *insert gif of Jason Momoa with the folding chair* 

-Martha waves to the Batwing flying away and that is adorable.

-You’d think the US government was dating Superman considering how many times they decide to fuck him.  FFS, guys.  Let him throw the monster into space without shooting him in the back just ONCE.

-Best. Enter. Player. 2. Moment. Ever.

-Watching Batman play ‘hoooooly shit, dodge dodge dodge dodge’ with Doomsday feels like a kind of karmic return like.  Look, asshole, THIS is what a Kryptonian monster who wants to raze the entire Earth is like and you are SO not even remotely prepared for that fight.

-...I forgot he actually pulls the spike in deeper so that he can stab Doomsday properly because I needed that heart, you know?

-Bruce trying to cover that hole in the suit as he bundles Clark up, totally not thinking about another suit in a glass case in his house, not thinking about the woman he just saved so she can bury her son.  Nope, nope, nope, Bruce Wayne is JUST FINE, thanks for asking.

-The Worst (read most painful) Look Ever between Lois and Diana and you know there’s a part of Diana that’s like ‘at least you get to bury him’.

-AND THERE GO THOSE SHELLS HITTING THE CONCRETE AGAIN, thanks symbolic things that hurt me down to my soul.

-you know, in the comics, Bruce REALLY REALLY hates Lex, like enough to be all right with helping to murder him (yeah, legit) but imagine, if you will, how much he’s gonna hate him NOW.

-Still a goddamn hopeful ending even if it breaks my heart.  ‘Men are still good’.  UGH.  UGH THIS UNIVERSE.

[akherontraveler]

Will I EVER have a consistent art-anatomy style?! *shakes fist to the sky* *sigh* Ok, this one took longer cuz I was busy with Inktober but let’s get back to business. I’ll be honest with ya; I was TOO lazy to come up with my own designs for the people at the Snugly Duckling but I wasn’t THAT lazy to keep the same designs either.

So, since Villainous is from Cartoon Network I decided to include other CN characters to fill those roles, also for the guards (I still don’t know what I’m going to do about the Stabbington brothers tho) It was fun to redesign their clothes to fit the time period but I kept Boris clothes the same cuz they already fit.

Anyways, here’s the cameos list:

Basil and The Silhouette Maker (Courage the cowardly dog)

Jasper (Steven Universe)

Lord Boxman and Venomous (OK.KO.)

Lord Pain (The Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy)

The Gentleman, Boris, Human X-49 and Lulu (Samurai Jack)

Jack Spicer (Xiaolin Showdown)

The Professor (The Marvelous Misadventures of Flapjack)

Human Skeeter (The Life and Times of Juniper Lee)

Mayor Glory, Valhallen and The Infraggable Krunk (Justice Friends/Dexter’s Laboratory)

Okay, Guys, I hope you like it and sorry if my english is bad. See you next time

1st Part

2nd Part

3rd part *You’re here*

4th Part

5th Part  

[the-desert-dancer]

Hey I wrote this small little piece for one of my classes, let me know what you think: (warning: child abduction, body horror mentions, a lot of super creepy shit)

STORY

The abandoned building creaked and groaned, like an old man trying to get out of bed. The insides were just as ugly as the outside, a thick layer of dust covered every surface. It was just one of many buildings in this area that had suffered from the economic recession, when people lost everything and were forced to either live on the street or move out of Fallkirk City entirely. But now? Someone was living in this building, and Captain Charisma had a good idea on who exactly was living here.

A series of bizarre child abductions had sent Fallkirk City into a panic, reaching a fervor rarely seen before. The ages, backgrounds, family situations, all were completely random. The only similarities between all these cases were the way these kids had disappeared: they were left alone watching the television at home and they’d seemingly vanish off of the face of the earth. No clues, no motives, no nothing. For the police, it was as if the kids had seemingly been erased from existence. At least, until Captain Charisma had received the invitation…

Rats suddenly skittered from out a nearby hole in the wall, their fur grey and patchy and looking particularly skinny. Captain Charisma stumbled backwards, scowling at the vermin in front of him. If there was anything worse than rats in this world, the super hero did not want to ever meet it.

Captain Charisma looked down at the paper in his hand; a bright pink of paper, covered in colorful glitter and stickers. Written in dark green crayon was the location of this building, with the words:

‘Come visit Johnny Goodneighbor and his Playhouse! You’ll Have a Swell Time! Be There or Be Square, Captain Charisma!’.

The super hero could not help but frown, as he read and re-read the invitation. Captain Charisma had an admittedly long list of villains and arch enemies, but he could not for the life of him recall ever tangling with a Johnny Goodneighbor. Heck, from all his research and sleuthing, there was nobody on the planet that went by that name.

“Curiouser and curiouser.” Captain Charisma muttered.

The silence that had previously filled the building was broken. It was the sound of...a TV humming? Captain Charisma slowly made his way to the source of the noise, coming face to face with an ancient looking door, with the words ‘COME IN’ written in green paint. Steeling himself for whatever could be behind that door, Captain Charisma slowly opened it and entered.

The room was incredibly barren, all decorations and furniture seemingly stripped away ages ago. But what remained in the room definitely caught the super hero’s eyes. A red plastic table and chair stood in the middle of the room, with a tea set complete with food and teacups and a teapot having been set out. And right in the far corner of the room….was an old beat-up television, humming loudly with static.

An off-tune jingle blasted from the TV suddenly, as a picture appeared. A brightly-colored room was shown, covered in flowers and other baubles. A table had been set out, with children sitting around it and a man sitting right at the far end. The man wore a deep blue sweater and jeans, his greying hair brushed back and a wide grin on his face. His eyes were a vivid blue, like the morning sky, and were twinkling with mischief. As Captain Charisma got closer, he got a better look at the kids and his suspicions were confirmed; these were the kids that had gone missing, no doubt about it.

“Oh yowie wowie! You’re here, you’re here!” The man announced, a wide grin plastered on his face. “I told you kids, that we’d be getting a very special visitor! Welcome to the Playhouse, Captain Charisma!”

“Johnny Goodneighbor, I presume?” Captain Charisma asked.

The man chuckled warmly and clapped his hands, causing the kids at the table to let out a thunderous applause. That feeling of joy wasn’t shared by Captain Charisma in the least; he needed to find those kids and now.

“I’m such a big fan, Captain Charisma, sir!” Johnny Goodneighbor stated, his grin somehow growing wider. His pearly white teeth became more pronounced and his face contorted even more. “I watch you all the time and I absolutely love what you do! You are a good egg, sir, a really good egg!”

“Enough. Give back those kids, now.” Captain Charisma said, scowling.

“Oh Captain Charisma, you’re too funny!” Goodneighbor chuckled. “Isn’t he, Grumpy?”

Goodneighbor lifted his right hand, showing a crudely stitched hand puppet of a mouse. Its fur was grey and falling off in places and a badly crafted scarf was wrapped around what was meant to be its neck. Googly eyes were stuck on its face and a pink cotton ball was glued on as its nose. Captain Charisma didn’t know whether to be disgusted or pissed off, as he laid his eyes on this abomination.

“Nah my dude, this Charisma is a total square.” Grumpy the Mouse stated. “He should make like a tree and leave!”

The kids all chuckled at Grumpy’s so-called jokes, with the grin on Goodneighbor’s face remaining as uncomfortably wide as it always was. Goodneighbor’s covered hand then disappeared under the table, and suddenly the sound of loud skittering blasted from out of the old TV, before silence fell. Goodneighbor lifted up his hand, with the rat puppet missing.

“Cut it out, now.” Captain Charisma growled.

“But it is tea time and you cannot interrupt tea time!” Goodneighbor stated, sipping from a pink teacup, before turning to look at the children. “It’s important that you always get at least three good meals a day, otherwise you can’t grow big and strong children! I’m sure our friend Captain Charisma agrees with that!”

“You kidnapped those kids, Goodneighbor. Stole them right from the safety of their homes.” Charisma said. “The hammer of justice will come down on you and hard.”

As soon as those words left Charisma’s lips, the entire mood shifted. The grin finally slipped from Goodneighbor’s face, replaced by a look of horror. The children all put their heads into their laps, their hands covering their ears. The picture of the television suddenly turned to static for a few seconds, before returning to normal. However, it had all changed. The kids and the table were all gone. All that remained was Johnny Goodneighbor sitting on a bright red chair, staring straight at Captain Charisma.

“Where are the kids, Goodneighbor?” Charisma demanded, his hands curling into tight fists.

“They went to bed, Mr. Captain Charisma. They need their sleep.” Goodneighbor stated, a frown on his previously jovial face. “It’s not nice those words you used, Captain Charisma, not nice at all.”

 “Just give them back, Goodneighbor. Their families miss them.”

“That is a lie! And lies are a no-no, Captain Charisma! If their families missed them, the children would not be here! No lies, no lies!”

“I’m not lying! You’re stealing these children, ripping them from their houses!”

Goodneighbor just shook his head at that, his face contorted into one of confusion. Tears streamed down his face, but these were not normal tears. No, they were bright red tears, as if he was crying blood.

“That’s...not true. It’s not, it’s not!”

Johnny Goodneighbor suddenly clutched at his head, as he began shaking violently. Before Charisma could say anything, the screen turned to static for a few brief seconds, before returning to normal. Goodneighbor sat back upon his chair, perfectly normal, as if nothing had just happened. Charisma took a step back, his brain trying to process all that had happened.

“What in the…” Charisma muttered. “What are you?”

“I told you; I’m Johnny Goodneighbor, and this is my Playhouse.” Goodneighbor explained. “And I won’t listen to your no-no words and lies anymore. You’re putting bad naughty worms into my garden of thoughts!”

“What?” Charisma muttered, trying to figure out what that expression even meant.

Goodneighbor lifted his head up suddenly, as a cartoon light bulb popped up above his head. That grin from before returned, as bright as ever, as he clapped his hands.

 “I get it now! We’re playing a game!” Goodneighbor announced, chuckling loudly. “We’re playing Superhero’s and Supervillains, and I’m playing the big old baddie! Oh what a fabulous idea, I’d love to-”

“Enough!” Captain Charisma shouted his final bit of patience shattering into a million pieces. “I am not here to play games, goddamnit! Children’s lives are at stake here, Goodneighbor! Either give them back or I’ll hunt you down and find them myself, and you do not want me to find you.”

Goodneighbor just chuckled at that, as he stood up and slowly walked forward, until his face filled up the entirety of the television screen. His blue eyes, those goddamn freaky blue eyes, were focused right on Captain Charisma.

“Maybe I want to play this game, Captain Charisma. After all, what is better than a good old game of Hide and Seek?” Goodneighbor asked simply. “But Captain Charisma….you’re the one that needs to hide.”

“Speak goddamn English.” Captain Charisma growled.

“Ready or not…”

Static filled the television screen, before it completely shut off, filling the room in complete darkness. As soon as the television shut off, Charisma made a run for the door; there was no way in hell he was going to be staying in there. Flinging the door open, he was halfway through the doorway, when he felt it; a cold grip wrapping itself around his neck. Before the superhero could do anything, he found himself being slammed into a nearby wall, the grip upon his neck growing tighter and tighter.

And staring him straight in the face was the ugliest looking thing that could possibly exist. Its skin was a pale white, almost blinding in a way, with its features contorted and twisted in such a way that it could barely be described as human. It had long shaggy blond dreadlocks that reached passed what must have been its shoulders. Its lipless mouth curled into a snarl, baring its sharp red-stained teeth. Then this...creature, if it could even be called that, let out a low gurgle as its vivid blue eyes zeroed in on Captain Charisma.

“Here I am.” The creature growled.