#I like lovelies but that isn't exactly themed with the comic

[ask-team-donum]

Have a sleeby Scout and Phoebe doodle, lovelies <333

[vagabond-umlaut]

⁙ ensnared

No matter what the world says, no matter what the world believes in, Gojo is nothing but a puny fly to the wily spider that you are. Flying headfirst into the gossamer web your skilled fingers have spun, time after time after time— The silk threads, perfectly tailored. Just for him.

▸ Gojo x Wife!Reader; Tooth-Rotting Domestic Fluff; Very Very Suggestive Themes; Nudity; Mentions of Food & A Plant Dying; Gojo calls his wife 'cookie'; Everything is fair in love and war ;) [This Fic's Rated Mature -> MDNI!!! ^_^]

▸ This is for you, Dilay! *MWAH MWAH MWAH* @roseqzpd

For all that is said about him, Gojo is a man who succumbs to only two temptations.

One:

Sweet dishes, regular intake of which will put anyone into a hyperglycemic crisis. [Good thing, he isn't just 'anyone'.]

And the other one:

You. His wife. His sweet, sweet, sweetest wife, who's currently peering up at him from his lap, wrapped in nothing except a way too tiny bath towel— however– he instructs himself the nth time since you emerged from the bathroom– you are a temptation he refuses to cave in to... just for now.

Strangely cognizant of his mind [like you are, more often than not], Gojo watches you intently stare at his lips for a full two seconds. Then repeat the request you made less than thrice today, but your husband already feels his defenses crumbling.

"'Toruuu," you whine, wrapping your arms round his neck and pressing closer, "Won't you help your wife choose a pretty outfit for today's get-together? I'm so confused... You want your wife to look the best among all the ladies there– tell me, don't you?"

"'Course, I do, cookie!" he exclaims, indignant as to how you could ever think anything otherwise— before a sudden ping! from his laptop sends him careening to the ground like a deflated balloon.

The poor man sighs. "But there's still so much work left to be done–"

"– which you can always complete once you've helped me, 'Toru," you cut him off with a pout, that slowly gathers a playful tinge as you ask, "Why are you behaving like this, though? Usually, you jump at the faintest chance to get out of paperwork. But now..."

Eyes growing comically wide, your voice sinks to a conspiratorial whisper. So worried, so cute. "Did anyone threaten to leak where your secret sweets stash is, 'Toru? If you– you know– submit these reports too late like always, eh?"

The only response your husband manages to eke out for your query is a very strained chuckle... 'cause, yeah, that's right.

Nanami promised to do exactly that– telling his very dear but having-black holes-for-stomachs students where his foreign sweets are stored– besides telling you how the white-haired man hogged ten chocolates one day despite his allowed daily two– and how your favourite star cactus didn't die from age but from him overwatering it, that week you were on a mission in France two months back– should he submit anything late ever again... But, no, wait.

You were on a foreign trip when he was given this ultimatum, and returned only last night. And Nanami promised to not tell you these yet– at least, not any time before that damned deadline's over. So, how...

"'Toruuu," Your petulant self, very adorably so, draws him away from his musings. And Gojo swears, if he wasn't losing before, he certainly is now. Your watery eyes, lower lip jutted out just the right amount and your nails leaving a delicious trail on his undercut— they've always been too strong for the world's strongest sorcerer.

Groaning, he leans forward to rest his forehead on yours. And darts his eyes to bore into yours lest they travel to your soft skin peek– NO, DON'T GO THERE. NOT NOW. PLEASE.

He huffs. "Okay, fine."

You open your mouth, probably to screech in delight, but your husband shushes you with a finger to your lips. He continues, shifting his tone to a graver timbre, "But only to help you choose your outfit– nothing else."

Lips curving into a wide smile behind his finger, your eyes gleam in terribly concealed delight. He has to actively stop himself from kissing you right then and there— there are still three mission reports left to be filed.

"And if I catch you trying to change the stream to anything else," he warns. You nestle closer into him, blinking your gorgeous eyes up at him in silent wait. A chuckle [which sounds more embarrasingly choked than anything] leaves him.

Features shifting into something brighter than a supernova, you push his finger away. And giggling, say, "You won't go easy on me— right, 'Toru?"

[In hindsight, though, Gojo thinks he should have recognised this plan to be yours.

From the way you step out the bathroom, not in your usual bathrobe but a towel... To the way you beg him to help decide your dress, in spite of knowing well how he leans towards only white or light blue choices... To the way your towel– pretty conveniently and accidentally, of course– slips lower not even ten minutes into the task...

To the soft 'Oops!' you exhale but make no move to cover your exposed chest, a mute thrill clear in the curve on your lips as you watch him watch, drink in, mentally devour the delectable sight before— your ever-present coyness nowhere to be found even as he strips you, nothing hiding you anymore from his starving gaze...

To the smug smile you're offering him now, the next day, after he's been thoroughly chewed out by Yaga for submitting his work a whopping four hours late...

Your wicked, brilliant, bewitching eyes go from him, to the mountain of empty candy wrappers on the centre table, to the empty pot of soil on the windowsill– the one that had your annoying, attention-hogging desert plant– then return to him.

A shudder runs down his spine— which doesn't take long to transform into a shiver of excitement. And a very, very warm burst of fondness right in the middle of his chest.

The man shakes his head with a laugh, 'cause—

For all that is said about him, Gojo is a man who succumbs to only two temptations.

And he'll be a fool, if he is to mess with the second– and more important of the two–

You.

His sweet, sweet, sweeter than the sweetest sweet dish, but startlingly sharp wife.]

[Also, no joke, but isn't your 'Toru insanely in love with you, even more for that?]

Gojo, some time later: My cookie is sooo smart– did ya know that, Nanamin? Hehe. Nanami: Why TF do you always hide in my office every time your wife is mad at you?

▸ Divider by @hitobaby. Header from Pinterest. I don't own the characters used here.

▸ masterlist

[deconstructthesoup]

Looked at my Dead Boy Detectives swap AU, decided that it could be better, and ran with it. So... here ya go.

(For those of you who need a refresher---it's an AU where Crystal and Niko are the ghosts and Charles and Edwin are the alive ones. "Dead Girl Detectives," basically.)

Crystal is pretty much unchanged from the original concept---she died in the 1920's, she was a psychic socialite with absent parents, and she acted like the quintessential spoiled wild-child while secretly being fascinated by detective stories. She died when she got possessed by David the demon, who puppeted her body around for weeks... until she finally managed to wrench back some form of control, threw both of them off of a building, and wound up getting sent to Hell. Now that she's out and living free as a ghost, she's doing her level best to leave her old self behind and be a better person---partly for herself, but also so she can prove that she doesn't deserve eternal punishment if Hell ever comes for her again.

Niko's still an anime geek from the 1990's who was an outcast in life, but her death circumstances are different. Instead of dying from the dandelion sprites, she accepted an invitation to a party in an effort to try and socialize more after her father's death... and she got killed in a prank gone wrong, trapped in an abandoned mansion that used to belong to Crystal's family. She probably would've even moved on if it weren't for Crystal showing up and helping her out, giving Niko a reason to stick around. Niko's doing better now, but she still hasn't really processed her feelings surrounding her death. (Also, her hair's still white---she just dyed it that way, and it's never changed even after she died.)

Charles is also pretty much unchanged from the OG concept---he's still an irresponsible witch who got possessed by David and lost his memories as a result---with the added detail that he's one of many incredibly powerful magical people who David's possessed, wrecked havoc with their powers, and killed, though Charles thankfully survived the ordeal thanks to the Dead Girl Detectives. Also, I'm fairly certain that Charles is not only well aware that he's bisexual and out, but he and David were almost certainly dating. Or at least hooking up.

Edwin's still a socially awkward comics nerd and shut-in, but I decided to just have him get the paranormal parasite as a way for him to get involved with Charles and the Dead Girl Detectives---though, instead of a dandelion sprite that's all about soaking up attention, it's a hornet-themed sprite that feeds on people's insecurities and self-loathing. I think that he still butts heads with Crystal a little bit, but his bookish, studious nature winds up becoming incredibly helpful to the team, and he gets along great with Niko and Charles. Especially Charles.

Now, after thinking about it, I realized that if I was going to do a four-way swap with our main crew, it would probably make sense to do the same with our supporting cast. So:

The Night Nurse---or Minerva Knight, as I've tended to name her in my AUs---is in the place as Port Townsend's resident witch, though her motives are pretty different from Esther's. She has no need for any spells of eternal youth, having stopped aging a while ago, and she considers herself the protector of Port Townsend, keeping the forces of the supernatural at bay from the mundane residents... even if that means occasionally sacrificing a child or two to keep some of the more unsavory beings satisfied. Needless to say, Minerva has a very skewed view of morality, and unlike her canon counterpart, she can't really be swayed to change her mind. She's scary.

Esther, meanwhile, is in the lovely position as the Crow Queen, a charming and campy trickster being who exists to wear fabulous, over-the-top outfits, rule over her little feathered darlings, and to be a menace to everyone she meets. Her whole deal with Crystal isn't exactly flirtatious, but it's enough to give Crystal a gigantic bisexual awakening. And whether or not Esther's really all that interested and is just fucking with her, she's a lot of fun, and she's definitely instrumental in helping Crystal realize more about herself.

Thomas (the Cat King, but we're calling him by his first name) is Charles and Edwin's landlord---the owner of a queer bakery who's having a bit of a quarter-life crisis and is therefore a bit of an asshole to almost everyone he meets. Despite how prickly he is, though, he has an energy about him that makes him automatically endearing to every single misfit teen in a fifty-mile radius, and he's less than enthusiastic about it. Deep down, Thomas doesn't really mind, because he is a pretty lonely individual (not that he'd ever admit it).

And lastly, Jenny is the Night Guard On Duty in the Afterlife Lost & Found Department---overworked, burnt out, and thoroughly cynical when it comes to the affairs of the living. She's convinced that all she really needs is the big case that'll get her a promotion to a much less stressful position, and tracking down the Dead Girl Detectives seems to be just the thing. Of course, she's not as dedicated to her job as she appears to be, and even years of working in the most depressing place in the universe hasn't fully worn her down.

And, uh, other than the fact that I'm gonna have to figure out a stand-in for Monty... that's what I got!

[musings-of-a-rose]

Marcus

Pairing: Marcus (Pike, Moreno, Acacius) x f!reader

Word Count: 6900+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: I saw a post from @pimosworld innocently asking for a Marcus bachlorette style fic and, while this isn't exactly right, this is what my brain came up with. Shoutout to @mermaidxatxheart for listening to me ramble and helping me, as well as @vanemando15 for being a cheerleader!

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Marcus Moreno Masterlist

Marcus Pike Masterlist

Marcus Acacius Masterlist

“Thanks for coming to Level Up Comics!” I smile at the customer as I hand them their bag, a quiet grunt all I get in return before they head out the door, the little bell jingling with their exit. I stretch, walking around from behind the counter and heading back towards the display case where several boxes sit in front, unopened figurines and collectibles pouring from them. My family and friends thought I was crazy for opening a physical media store in this age of digital products. They said no one would come in let alone want to actually buy “this crap.”

But here I am, a few years after opening, and I’m doing pretty good for myself. There are still collectors out there who want their favorites in case something happens to their files. They want the figurines from the original manufacturers, rather than printing them themselves. I can’t blame them. There’s something different, something magical about reading the printed word, having a figure of your favorite character that was made decades ago by something other than a 3D printer in someone’s basement.

The bell jingles and I yell out a greeting, shoving a few more figures in the back of the case before standing and turning, a pair of dark brown eyes meeting mine. I can already feel the smile on my face. 

“Hi, Marcus!” Shit, was that too enthusiastic? If it is, he doesn’t let on, his own smile shyly spreading across his face. “How…how are you?”

He rubs the back of his neck with his large hand, his eyes darting away from mine. “I’m..I’m good. You?”

“Good. That’s good. I mean, I’m good. Good. It’s all…good.” What the fuck?

He chuckles lightly, looking anywhere but at me. “Good.”

We’re both silent for several moments. He’s so hot. Way out of my league hot. And the weird thing is, I don’t even think he realizes just how attractive he is. 

“Did my back issue of X-Men come in?”

“Oh!” I slap my forehead. “I almost forgot! Yes. Let me get that for you.” Trying desperately to hide the heat in my cheeks, I quickly walk around the counter, kneeling to sift through the special order pile. 

“You got more figures in?”

“Yeah,” I yell from my crouched position. “There’s a few bins in the back I haven’t emptied yet. Feel free to have a look!” 

“Thanks.” I hear him shuffle off towards the back of the shop just as I locate his order. The door bell dings again and I stand, smoothing down my jeans. A man stands at the counter, his bright blue eyes roaming up and down my body before her plasters on the most ingenuine smile I’ve ever seen. 

“Hi. How can I help you?” I ask him as I place Marcus’s order on the counter.

 “Hi beautiful. I’m looking for a comic.”

I internally sigh. I already know where this is going. It happens several times a week.

“Well you’ve come to the right shop. What are you looking for?”

He chuckles, intending to be endearing. It isn’t. “I’m looking for a very specific issue of Hawkeye. You know who that is?”

Seriously? “I am very familiar with Hawkeye. Are you?”

He scoffs. “Haha. You’re a funny, pretty thing. Anyway, I’m looking for a specific run of his. Do you know what that means?”

Anger surges through me and I grip the desk to ground myself. Out of the corner of my eye I see Marcus at the back of the store, standing and turning towards us but not moving. He’s even hot in my peripheral. 

“Which run are you looking for? Or are you wanting a recommendation?”

He laughs, the vile sound of it echoing off the walls. “A recommendation? From you? What would you know? You’re just a pretty little girl.”

A clunk from the back of the store and I see Marcus trip over one of the boxes. He doesn’t go down, but turns to fix the boxes that he’s kicked over. The man in front of me is unphased, his eyes still on me, an amused smile tugging at his lips.

“Well?” He spits out. 

I look at him, giving him a smile. “Well, if you’re asking me personally, my favorite run is the Matt Fraction run. Not only because of his artistic style and great story, but the fact that they weaved in Clint’s deafness, drawing him wearing his hearing aids, and even doing an entire issue completely in American Sign Language. A great story and representation of a marginalized community from, in my opinion, one of the best and most relatable Avengers. Now, would you like the individual issues, an omnibus, or the digital version?”

The smug smile slowly fades from his face, his eyes hardening. “You don’t have to be such a bitch.”

“I do when customers act like a bitch.” 

He grabs the fliers on the counter and throws them at me, turning towards the door. “Fuck you and this place!” He tries to slam the door behind him but he fumbles with the handle, flipping me off one final time before disappearing around the corner. 

I sigh, bending down to pick up the fliers. A hand reaches out, large and inviting, carefully helping me pick up the scattered papers. I look up at him, at Marcus, sweet Marcus. Who had heard all of that. 

“I’m sorry Marcus. I shouldn’t have lost my cool.”

He hands me the small stack he’s collected, meeting my gaze. “You don’t have to apologize for standing up to a sexist asshole. I should be the one who’s sorry.”

I combine our stacks, both of us standing as I tap them on the counter to even them out. “Why should you apologize?”

“I should’ve come to help,” he rubs the back of his neck, his ear turning slightly pink. 

I shake my head. “No, Marcus don’t worry about it. I get assholes like that all the time. Really, it’s ok.”

He shakes his head. “It’s really not-”

To my own surprise, I reach out and squeeze his arm. “Really, I’m ok. Thank you, Marcus.”

He smiles at me, opening his mouth to say something, but his phone rings from inside his pocket. “Sorry. Sorry.” He pulls it out, tapping on the clear screen only he can see. “Shit. I have to take this. Work. You sure you’re ok?”

I smile, trying not to show my sadness at his leaving. “I am. Hope everything’s ok at work.”

“Thanks. I’ll uh…see you around.” His eyebrows pull together as his phone rings again, his eyes moving down to the screen before he turns around and heads out the door, pausing to give me a wave through the window before he disappears into the crowd. 

I’ll never meet a man owning this shop. They’re either assholes, taken, or hopelessly out of my league. My own phone beeps and I pull it out, scanning the clear screen with my reservation confirmation. I tap the confirm button, nerves flooding my system. 

I can’t believe I signed up for a virtual version of the bachelorette.

—----

I closed the shop early and rushed home to get ready for that night. I arrive promptly at 7pm as they requested, the giant VIRTUAL LIFE logo on the side of the building bathing the sidewalk in bright blue light. I take a deep breath and walk inside, the door disappearing momentarily to let me in before reappearing behind me. The front desk assistant guides me to a row of elevators and instructs me to head to floor 28. I’m the only one in the elevator, the lights illuminating each floor as we pass it. The elevator stops and the doors open to a small waiting room, black leather couches and chairs surround a coffee table with several tablets, each loaded with some form of entertainment. While it looks like there are windows, if you look closely, you can tell they’re simulated, trying to grant us as much privacy as possible. Although, I think it may be more about guarding their own technology secrets. 

“Ivy?” a woman calls my name from the only doorway in the room aside from the elevator. I nod, standing and smoothing down my dress. 

“That’s me.”

“Right this way.” She leads me into another small office, a simple desk with a single chair for me to sit in. She sits opposite me at the desk, tapping in mid air at what I’m assuming is the computer screen in front of her. 

“Ivy it says here you signed up for the bachelorette program to meet a compatible mate. Is that correct?”

Swallowing down my embarrassment, I nod. “Y-yeah.”

She taps a few more things. “Great. Do you know how this works?”

“You guys take a picture of my brain and show me a story?”

She chuckles, the first time her professional demeanor has broken. “Almost but not quite. After we’re done here, you will be taken to the simulation room. You’ve already done your physical-”

“Yeah. They had me put on this suit and they captured the way I moved. Motion capture, I think?”

She nods. “Yes that’s it exactly. This way, your avatar inside your world will move like you. It helps with immersion.” I nod. “They also completed your brain scan to find the most viable dates and look of mate that you are searching for. You indicated you’re looking for a male mate, is that correct?”

I nod. “Yeah. Yes.”

She nods. “Alright. If you’ll go through the door, someone in scanning will take you. Good luck!” She gestures to a door on the opposite wall from where we entered. I go through the door and another woman greats me, leading me to chair where she has me sit and get comfortable. It reminds me of what the dentist chairs used to look like except way more comfortable. She turns to me, holding a helmet with different little lights on it. 

“Any questions?”

“Yeah. So what will he..I mean, how will I know who he is?”

“You will just know. Sort of like in a regular video game, where you can tell who is important to talk to.”

“Ok..but…will he look like him or?”

That’s reassuring. But then she interrupts my thoughts. “Don’t forget, he will be there too also looking for you.”

She shakes her head. “Your algorithm took in your scan and will give him the appearance of someone you find appealing or comforting. We’ve found it’s easier to accept someone if they have an outward appearance you’re already familiar with.”

“So you base connections on personality as opposed to looks?”

She nods. “Those relationships have the highest success rate, so yes.”

“And after, will you show me who he is?”

She nods. “In the simulation, you’ll go on 3 dates. They may be something as simple as communicating in an office to being a superhero or even traveling back in time. The algorithm takes both of your likes, dislikes, and desires and places you in situations. The more you play along and immerse yourself, or yourselves, into the simulation, the better the outcome, meaning a closer connection. And don’t worry - you cannot be physically harmed. And if it’s too much or you want to stop, you only need to say “End simulation”. Please be aware that time may pass differently in the simulation, but you will only be in for an hour. After, you will both meet here, in reality, and can determine whether you’d like to continue with a relationship or not. Any more questions?”

I shake my head. “I don’t think so. Not at the moment, anyway.”

She places the helmet on my head, the nodes all changing different colors as it comes in contact with me. She squeezes my shoulder and I look up at her. “Just relax and try to go with the theme. It’s more fun that way, ok?”

I nod, wiping my sweaty palms on my dress. “Yeah. Makes sense.”

“Good luck!” She taps a button on her clear screen and my vision fades to black so just a couple of seconds. But then I’m blinking awake, the tips of my fingers tingling and my toes feeling like they just woke up. My vision starts to clear and the room comes into focus. I’m sitting at a bar, a fancier bar, which explains the nice dress. As my hearing levels out, I realize that the blonde man to my right is talking to me, his body shifted in my direction. His grey eyes are slightly unsettling. This can’t be my mate, can it? 

“...and so I had them fired! Can you imagine? I asked for my steak to be medium and they brought it out medium well. That will teach that guy to listen to the customer at his next job.” Grey Eyes chuckles and takes a sip of the drink in front of him. He nods towards the glass in front of me. “Do you want another?”

“What? Oh, uh sure.” 

He flags the bartender down and orders a rum and coke before making a show of leaning on his beefy arm against the bar. “I’m glad you finally saw reason and agreed to come out with me tonight.”

I give him a small smile. “Yeah. Same here.” This doesn’t feel right. Maybe they got it wrong? Someone bumps into me from behind and grey eyes catches me, glaring at the person who bumped me, who had moved on. 

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah. It’ll take more than a drunk asshole to bring me down.” Grey Eyes laughs, picking up his glass and holding it up towards me. “I’ll drink to that.” I glance down to grab my drink, only to find it wasn’t there. I look back at Grey Eyes and see him frozen in place, the smirk on his face completely gone, his glass shaking as he continues to hold it in mid air. My glass appears next to his, lightly clicking against his glass. 

“Now that’s not very nice.” That voice. I would know his voice anywhere. My entire body relaxes as I turn to look into the dark brown eyes that I love so much.

“Marcus!” I exclaim, ignoring the vein in grey eye’s neck that’s threatening to pop. Marcus on the other hand, looks good. I mean, he always looks good to me but he’s dressed in nice black pants and a light blue button up shirt with matching black jacket. I’m not sure how a blue shirt makes his brown eyes pop, but it does. Marcus pushes his black frames up his nose.

“Hey, Ivy. Sorry to interrupt your date, but this not so kind gentlemen put a little something in your drink.”

“He what?” I blink rapidly a few times, trying to pry my eyes away from him. Grey Eyes vein relaxes somewhat and he sputters out.

“Fuck you man! We’re on a date! What….what are you doing to me?”

Marcus shrugs. “Well, you wanted to make it so she can’t move. Only fair if I return the favor.” 

Grey Eyes goes to say something else, but then seems to recognize the man standing next to me, his eyes going wide.

“Aren’t you the guy that can move metal?”

My eyes snap to Marcus, who is smiling. “I see I have a fan.”

Grey Eyes tries to backtrack. “Listen, man. I’m sorry. I was just trying to get her to loosen up a bit. Have some fun.”

Marcus looks at me, his brown eyes wide and smiling. “Ivy, do you wish to continue your date with this man?”

“Nope.” I pop the “p” sound at the end of the word. “Little hard to have fun when my date is trying to render me unconscious.”

Marcus waves the bartender over. “Call the police. This man is in possession of Freeze Me.”

 A handful of what felt like seconds later, several officers show up and arrest Grey Eyes, who barely puts up a struggle. I turn towards Marcus, my smile stretching my face as I grab his arm. “My hero.”

His eyes dart around the room, his arm coming up to rub at the back of his neck. “It was nothing.”

Gosh he’s so cute when he does that neck rub thing. Wait. Gotta play along. 

“Is Marcus the Metal Bender actually acting shy around me?”

He chuckles nervously and I think how perfect they coded him. Like he was picked out of my brain. Which I guess he was. 

“Just trying to be respectful.”

I wish he wouldn’t. Wait, are we even allowed to have sex in here? Wow, getting ahead of yourself there, Ivy.

“Youwannagetoutofhere?” He speaks so fast it all comes out in a jumble and I cock my head to the side. 

“What?”

He swallows hard and I can’t help but watch his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. “Do you want to get out of here?”

“Hell yeah I do.” 

—-

It’s a few weeks later, or at least it feels like some time has passed. That lady did say time passes differently here. Now I’m in an office building, a stack of files in my arms, walking down the hall. A quick glance around tells me I’m in the Heroics head quarters. Marcus appears from around the corner and looks up at me, smiling and walking towards me. But then a man in a much too tight blue suit with a glowing M on it joins him, Marcus’s shoulders sagging slightly as he gives me a sad little wave.

“When are you two going to go on a date already?” A woman with bright pink hair appears next to me. 

“I uh, me?”

She slaps my shoulder. “Yes, you Ivy.” She leans in closer to my ear. “Aren’t you the one who confessed to having a crush on our heroic leader?”

I will the heat rising in my face to not show. “Oh, I uh..I-”

“You know he likes you too.” Her jaw drops when she sees the confused look on my face. “Oh don’t tell me you can’t tell! That man can hardly look at you and he’s taken down alien forces by just staring at them.”

She feels like a close friend so I go with it. “Yeah, ok I like him. Keep your voice down, will you?” She continues walking with me to the end of the hall where I deposit the stack of files into several slots, each one making a small whoosh sound as they’re whisked away to their destinations.

When I’m done, Pink Hair gently grabs my face and turns me to her. “I love you, Ivy. You know you’re like the sister I never had. So please listen to me when I say ask that man out before something happens and you regret not ever trying.”

Well fuck. That is…really spot on to reality isn’t it? 

I never get a chance to answer her as the entire building suddenly shakes, alarms and lights screeching and illuminating the halls. One of the tall filing cabinets starts to topple in my direction and I can only look on in horror, frozen in place by the rumbling building. I throw my hands up, as if that’s going to stop it, but nothing happens. The cabinet is laid gently on its side, floating to the ground. 

“Come on!” I look up into those dark eyes, Marcus extending his hand to me and helping me to my feet. “We have to get out of here!” He tightens his grip and somehow leads us out of the chaotic building out into the streets. Which is also nuts. People are running everywhere and…wait. Is that an alien spaceship coming towards us??

Marcus pulls me behind a wall, glancing around it and waving hand signals to a small group of heroes across the street behind another wall, Pink Hair amongst them. He turns back to me, his face full of worry as he starts to take his shirt off, exposing…not skin but a uniform? No. His hero costume, which is a black shirt,and arm bands. He sees me staring down and he shrugs. “I normally have a tach vest but we’re out of time.” 

“Should you not go out there without one?”

Marcus shakes his head. “I have to support my team. And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe. I mean, people safe.”

“You could just stay here with me? The others can handle-” my words are cut off by a giant laser beam cutting through the street, coming directly from the ship. 

He takes my hand and squeezes it. “Get yourself to safety. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. I need you to be safe.” Another laser beam, the sound of some smaller buildings crumbling to the ground. “Go! Get to safety!” He releases my hand. 

I get a glimpse of the deep craters that lasers had left in their wake through the cement of the street, the piles of rubble and dust, and this spurs me on.

“Marcus?” He leans against the wall, readying himself, but he looks at me. 

“Yeah?”

Mustering up my courage, I lean towards his hunched body, softly planting a kiss on his lips. When I pull back, I see his chest heaving, his eyes moving between mine.

“Please make it back, Marcus.”

Before he can answer, the ship comes into view and his team moves out, following behind Miracle Guy, who had flown right up the ship and started punching it. Marcus’s head whips around, assessing the situation and I squeeze his arm once more before quickly moving out of the immediate area. I know I should move more, but I can’t get hurt so… 

The fight that ensues between the ship, the aliens inside, and the Heroics team is nothing short of brilliant. They may argue in the halls, but in the field, they all take direction from Marcus, who is a brilliant leader, playing all of their strengths. Marcus bends metal like it’s made of playdough, a beautiful dance of destruction and strength. Then the ship comes crashing down, everyone moving out of the way except-

“Marcus!” I emerge from my hiding place at a full run as the smoke around the alien ship that’s currently scraping along the road as it crashes and envelops Marcus. The ship stops, groaning as it falls back and lays still, no other life forms moving or detected on board. For a few moments, no one moves. Then Marcus emerges from the smoke, his face soot stained and a small gash in his shirt and along his cheek, but otherwise unharmed. 

“Marcus!” I run to him, his eyes finding mine, his entire body relaxing as he realizes I’m safe, just before I launch myself into his arms, our lips crashing together as my right hand fists in his shirt, my left tugging on his hair. Miracle Guy wolf whistles but I couldn’t care less. I feel his tongue gently lick out and I part my lips, letting him take whatever he wants. But before it can go any further, my vision starts to blacken, the last thing I see is Marcus’s eyes going out of focus as he succumbs to his own transition to the next simulation.

—----

I find myself blinking awake for the second time in what feels like weeks, but I know in reality it’s only been maybe 20 minutes that I was in there. The tips of my fingers and toes are tingling, my vision and hearing clearing and I find myself in…a breakroom. Am I back at the Heroics? The slight weight in my hand takes my focus and I realize I’m holding a cup of tea. I must be on my break. I walk towards the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking outside. I’m not back at Heroics - the cityscape is all wrong. I hear the door open behind me and I turn, the smile on my face widening as Marcus enters the room. His hair is shorter than the last simulation. And his face is clean shaven, which is a look I’ve never seen on him before. Not that it matters - he’s beautiful no matter what. I wonder what he’ll look like when he’s a little older. Probably hot as-

“Hey, Ivy.” Marcus smiles down at me, grabbing his own mug and pouring a cup of coffee from the carafe. I notice the FBI logo on the mug and figure that must be where we are.

“Hey,  Marcus.” I take a sip of my tea as we both watch the other. But then the door opens again, another agent walking into the room. He claps his hands together, looking at us.

“Hey! Congrats on finally cracking that art case, you two! 8 months is a long time to do an operation like that. Great work!” He shakes both of our hands as we thank him. Marcus catches my eye and, with a small movement, jerks his head towards the door. I nod, thanking the other agent again and follow Marcus out of the tiny breakroom and down the hall, stopping in front of an office door labeled MARCUS PIKE. I wonder if that's his name back In reality. He extends his arm towards his office and I head inside, smiling at him as I do, noting how his eyes dart around, that hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck as he closes the door behind him.

“I uh…great work, Ivy.” 

“You too.” 

He puts his hands in his pockets and finally looks me in my eyes and he nods once. 

“Listen. Do you..uh..I mean, would you like to…this is coming out all weird.”

I squeeze his arm and he looks down at my hand, taking a deep breath. 

“Would you like to get something to eat?”

My stomach erupts in butterflies. “Like on a date?”

The redness in his eyes spreads down onto his cheeks as he stammers, gesturing around vaguely. “No! No, not uh. Not a date.”

I can feel my face falling. “Oh.”

“Uh, unless you…uh…unless you want to? Make it a…a date?” His eyes are wide and bright, like a damn puppy. 

I smile, tucking some hair behind my ear. “Yeah. Yeah, I would love to go on a date with you, Marcus.” 

His smile is bright, lighting up the room. “Yeah?”

“Yes.”

He let's out a sigh of relief. “Great! I found this great pancake place.”

Pancakes? I love this man already. “It's nearly dinner time!” I can't help the small giggle that I let out. 

“Yeah, well you said your favorite food is pancakes. And they're open 24 hours.”

He remembered my favorite food? I'm so screwed. Damn this program is good. “You're right! I'd love to get pancakes with you. On a date. For a date. When will this date be, by the way?”

“Oh. I uh, would it be too weird if we went tonight? Is that too soo-”

“No! I mean, yes! No it's not too soon. I'd love to go!” If my heart could stop beating through my chest, that would be great. It's not that I'm some young girl getting asked on her first date. I just really like Marcus. Or whomever this is. My heart sinks at the thought of it not being the Marcus I know in reality. 

“Great! I'll pick you up at 7? Unless you'd rather meet me there? I don't want you to be uncomfortable.”

“Marcus, we just spent 8 months together on assignment. I think I'm comfortable around you.”

He chuckles. “Fair point.” His office phone rings and he apologizes to me, picking it up. I wave ro him and he mouths “See you at 7!”

—----

He picks me up with a flourish of flowers, all long legs and button up shirt that I'm really dying to unbutton. If that's even allowed here. 

But what's more than that is the conversation. I thought I had learned everything about him over the last 8 months. I was very wrong. 

“You were a bass player in a band?” I ask, choking on my drink.

He laughs, holding his hands up in front of him. “What can I say? I wanted to meet more people.”

“I bet you had all the girls hanging on you.”

Marcus shrugs. “Not really. They all want to date the drummer or the singer.”

“Really? Not the sexy bass player?”

Marcus takes too large of a sip of his drink and coughs, pounding his chest. “No, not the…you think I'm sexy?”

I set my fork down and meet his eyes. “If I didn't like you, I wouldn't be here.”

We spend several moments, just looking at each other and then I remember that he's not a simulation but a real person on the other end of those eyes. My heart squeezes thinking about how it won't actually be Marcus. Despite that thought, we really get along well and the conversation flows freely between us. Sooner than I’d like, we’re leaving the small diner, heading back to my place. Marcus parks in my driveway and turns to me, his eyes bright and wide like a damn puppy. We had been talking about books, one of my favorite topics.

“..and I know everyone complains that Tolkien takes 20 pages to describe a flower, but I really love that attention to detail. It makes it more immersive for me. One of these days I’ll get you to read Lord of the Rings!” I tap my fingers on his bicep to emphasize my point.

Marcus rubs his neck. “I uh…I already have.”

My jaw drops. “What? When??”

“When you told me it was your favorite book. Or books, I should say.”

I think back. “Marcus, that was…months ago!”

His eyes meet mine, the light from the street lamp outside adding a sparkle to them. “You said they were your favorite so…I read them.”

My stomach does flips, my heart beating. “You read them all for me?”

He nods. “Even the Silmarillion.”

I can’t help it. This is so fucking hot. I reach out and grip his shirt, pulling him to me, his soft lips pressing against mine, the heat between us quickly rising. His large hand cradles the back of my head, holding me to him as his other hand settles on my hip, squeezing it lightly. We make out for several minutes, Marcus kissing and nipping a path down my neck. 

“Do you want to come in?” I ask breathlessly. 

He pulls back and looks at me. “I do but-” he whispers. “Are we allowed?”

“I…I’m not sure. We could try to-” 

But then my vision starts to blacken around the edges, and before I pass out, I hear Marcus say “See you in the next one!” before we both black out.

—----

Now familiar with the way I wake in these simulations, I wiggle my fingers and toes, giving myself a moment to figure out where I am. The room looks…ok, this isn’t from my time. Roman decor and pillars line the grand bedroom, some food laying on a small table for, I’m assuming, me. A quick glance down shows me in a beautiful white garb and I marvel for a moment at how clean it is. 

BOOM!

The ground shakes and I duck down, completely caught off guard. It’s only after the boom dies down that I hear it - the distant sound of clanking swords and men yelling. I walk to the small window set into the wall and look out, my brain taking a moment to process the scene in front of me. 

I’m several floors up in a sort of round building, a castle I realize as I see the lower tiers, more square in their shape. I’m sure the grounds would have been beautiful, if it weren’t for the massive amounts of soldiers fighting in the streets. I can make out their bodies, the blood, sweat, and dirt spreading almost like a disease. Spear and swords burst from chests or stomachs, limbs separating from their bodies to be lost to the throngs of soldiers. The seem to be moving closer to the castle, which I’m not sure if I want to happen or not. Turning on my sandaled heel, I walk to the door, pressing my ear against the wood to listen. Hearing nothing, I try to open it. Nothing. The door doesn’t open or move, the handle locked into place.

Well, fuck. 

Before I can try and figure out how far down the next ledge is out the window, or if I can even fit out the window, I hear a commotion outside my door. It’s not loud, but I hear a man gurgling and sputtering, a small bit of crimson blood pooling under the door. I grab an iron rod by the fire and hold it up, preparing to defend myself. I know they said I can’t be hurt but damn this feels real. The door opens and a man walks through, wide, muscular shoulders under his Roman armor, Medusa proudly engrained on the front. I lunge, the iron rod above my head but the man turns and grabs the rod and I  would’ve fallen to the floor if he hadn’t caught me.

“Ivy! Here you are!” 

It’s him. Marcus. Only he’s older, probably closer to 50. Grey streaks in his curls and patchy facial hair only accentuate his beauty, a new scar forming across his nose, bleeding lightly down his face. He’s covered in dirt and blood and ash, but I throw my arms around him anyway.

“Marcus! Thank God, what’s going on?”

He cups my face, pushing my hair out of my face. “You are so beautiful, my love. I would bring every army from the entire world to rescue you from this horrid Emperor.” And then his lips are on mine, urgency behind them, but a desire to show me how l much I am loved. This man apparently started the battle outside, for me, and still wants to make sure that I know how important I am to him? 

“We have to flee. Come!” But before we can leave, the door flies open and 5 guards file in, grabbing Marcus and holding his arms out to his sides. I pick the iron rod up from the floor and run towards them, unsure of what I would do but I know I’ll beat the shit out of them until they let him go. But another hand shoots out and grabs my wrist, twisting it hard so I drop the rod. I look up into the eyes of a man that I’m assuming is the Emperor, his golden robes flowing around him. He looks vaguely familiar, like that one asshole from the comic shop.

“Now, now my dear. What were you planning on doing with that?”

I open my mouth to reply, but then he smacks me across the face and I slam down onto the floor. Ok, that hurt. Didn’t she say I wouldn’t get hurt? Maybe she meant I wouldn’t die. Marcus swears, cursing the Emperor for hitting me. 

“Are you alright, my love?” Marcus grunts as the men punch him in the stomach. 

“Marcus, Marcus, Marcus. You’re kind are dying out. I told you to just accept your fate and take your banishment, but instead, you stayed behind and fell in love with a woman. How…stupid.” Marcus tries to speak but he’s punched again, his body hunching over. I try to stand, but then I’m drug up by my hair, the Emperor’s fingers digging at my scalp as he pulls me to his side. 

“This one?” His eyes rake over my body. “She is attractive, I’ll give you that. Even if she is attracted to a brute like you.” I jerk my body, trying to get out of his grip but it’s too tight, my hands gripping his arms to try and get some relief from the stinging at the back of my scalp.

“Let her go. You can kill me, I don’t care, but let her go.”

The Emperor looks from me to Marcus, a sick smile spreading on his face. “I didn’t go through the trouble of kidnapping her just to have you give up. So I’ll tell you what I’ll do instead. LOOK AT ME!” The Emperor bellows from beside me, Marcus’s eyes moving from mine to his. 

He steps closer to Marcus, dragging me a little beside him. “Such a wild man. How about this: you watch as I take her. Then, I’ll drive my sword through her belly so she can slowly bleed out on the floor. Only after the light has left her eyes will I either kill you or lock you up to suffer the rest of your days. How does that sound?”

The darkness that settles over Marcus is unforgiving, his eyes hardening in resolution. He growls and screams, throwing the soldiers off him as he grabs his sword from the ground, swinging it and taking out all of the soldiers in only a handful of moves. He spins, aiming his sword at the Emperor, who has now moved me in front of him as a human shield, a knife to my throat. 

“I’ll kill her, Marcus! You are too weak to save her!”

Marcus’s gaze moves briefly to mine and I release my weak grip on the Emperor’s arms, letting them fall to my side. Marcus shifts his body ever so slightly before he throws something from behind his back. The object whizzes past my cheek, scratching it slightly as the blade buries itself in the Emperor’s neck. He drops his knife and clutches at his throat, his eyes wide with fear. He crumbles to the floor and sputters for several moments before his body stops moving. I run to Marcus, throwing my arms around him again. He grunts and I remember the soldiers hitting him.

“Are you hurt?”

He clutches his side. “I’ve had worse.”

“You are so fucking hot right now,” I speak quietly to him and he smiles. “I’m covered in dirt and blood and sweat.”

“Stop trying to turn me on more I already said you’re hot.”

He laughs but then inhales sharply at the pain. “I’ll take it, I guess.”

“No, that’s my job.” I bring my lips to his, pushing him back towards the chaise lounge chair on the other side of the room. He sits, pulling me onto his lap as I straddle him, my dress getting dirty as I shift my hips. He groans, his large hands sliding up my bare thighs under my dress and fuck! My vision starts to blacken and I hear Marcus whine out some expletives as we both are brought out of the simulation. 

—---------------------------

Hopefully for the last time, I blink awake, wiggling my fingers and toes as I look around the room. The helmet is gently lifted from my head and the woman that had put it on me moves into my eyesight.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m here.”

“Good. Wait just a moment for your body to fully catch up. Do you have any questions?”

“Yeah why did you stop us having sex?”

She studies me for a moment. “It is not allowed in the programming.”

“I cross my arms. “Well your programming is stupid.”

She chuckles so quietly I thought I’d imagined it. “The algorithm wants you and your mate to match based on personality and emotions, not just physical.”

“I can guarantee you it wasn’t just physical.” 

She helps me stand and I shake my limbs out, full feeling returning to them. I smooth out my dress as she readjusts my hair. “Are you ready to meet him?”

Him. My reality man. “Y..yeah.” 

“Right through that door. He’s already waiting for you.” I move towards the door but she stops me. “I just have to say, I’ve been doing this for years and I’ve never seen a situation like yours and his.”

I furrow my brow. “What do you mean?”

So smiles softly. “So…rooted in reality.”

Yeah that’s not confusing. But she doesn’t explain further, turning back to the chair and helmet, starting to clean them. I take a deep breath to steady myself and open the door, walking through and closing it behind me. The man on the other side of the room, my mate, turns towards me and we both gasp.

“Marcus?”

“Ivy?”

We meet in the middle of the room and I cup his face, Marcus tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Is it really you?”

He nods. “Yeah. You? Real?”

“Real.”

He pulls my face to his, kissing me deeply, but then pulling back a moment later. 

“I’ve been dying to ask you out since forever. I never thought I’d be paired with you, here of all places.”

I cock my head to the side. “Why didn’t you ever ask me?”

“Have you seen yourself? You’re entirely out of my league.”

“I’m fairly certain it’s the other way around.”

He opens his mouth to protest, but I put my finger on his lips. “I think we went through several first dates in there. Plus, we’re already friends. Can we…that is, can you take me back to your place first? Then we can eat?”

Marcus’s eyes darken, his hands finding a place on my hips as he pulls me against his body, letting me feel how into that idea he is. 

We’re married a year later.

—----

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[charlietheepicwriter7]

Finally reading "Under the Red Hood" for my story, Dick Grayson V Gotham and some notes about what exactly happens here:

Jason's helmet really is a whole ass red circle with eyes, isn't it.

There's constant internal monologue about how much Batman cares about his kids. From Alfred and from Batman.

There's a whole ass woman who I have never seen referenced before called Onyx? Who's apparently the "only other hero allowed in the whole of gotham... other than catwoman".

Bruce recognizing Jason just based on how he fights and plans is beautiful, even if bruce doesn't believe it yet.

Superman's over here flirting with Bruce, going "we could have gotten tickets to the theater if you'd called ahead 😘😘" while bruce is traveling all over the world to figure out if his baby boy might be back from the dead.

Lowkey sad that Jason doesn't have the skunk stripe. I know it was fanon that occasionally became canon, but I still like it.

Wow, this Robin!Jason flashback is really giving us good views of the scaly panties, >:P

So, during the flashback, Bruce brings up the idea that Jason has a "mean streak" in comparison to how Dick was. But it's not that Jason was "mean" and Dick "nice"--Dick has a massive temper, even if canon rarely allows him to acknowledge it--but with Dick... Everytime he was Robin, I think he was still in the mindset of "performer". There was a bit more disconnect between him and the criminals of Gotham, because the fights were more like acts. Jason performs too, but he's very personal about it. This is his city, he's taking all these crimes personally and even when he's "performing" it's still Jason Todd, while Dick's Robin is more so a mask. IDK, this is just the vibes I'm picking up.

I really love the panels after Jason blows up the meth lab. The way the colors are... it makes Jason almost look like he's teared up? It's beautiful.

Oh great, Slade's here. No wonder this things so damn long

You know what, Slade? I'm on Black Mask's side here. A nazi and a hyena man? You can find better hired help on Craigslist.

Just finished the fight, and I'm STILL on Black Mask's side. Slade, who the fuck are these losers!?

Yes, Jason baby, kill the nazi!

Jason got them Christmas presents! That's sweet!

Slade, why the FUCK were you here? Did you see Nightwing was in town and go "lol, this'll be funny"?

Black Mask really calling himself Daddy around Jason... wasn't a joke. Huh.

There are some very nice parallels after Jason reveals his identity to Bruce. Bruce was too late to stop Joker's bomb, he was too late to stop the bomb in the meth lab. Bruce was too late to stop his son from getting attacked by a supervillain, but Bruce was faster now, good job! And Bruce never killed his son's killer, and he won't kill Stephanie's killer either. It's like he keeps testing Bruce to see if he really has to go through with his plan with the Joker.

Actually, it wouldn't surprise me if Jason's entire beef with Black Mask was because of his part in Stephanie Brown's death.

...I don't really like the idea of Jason calling himself a zombie after Joker did it.

Jason wiped the smile off his face, goddamn! (And don't think I didn't notice how similar Joker and Jason's laughs are, comic artists. Sure, maybe that's just how cackling laughter was drawn back then, but in literature, that smells like foiling).

...THIS is when Bludhaven gets destroyed!? Really???

Also, what is this depiction of Bludhaven just... being across a river? This feels unreasonably close, why hasn't Gotham just eaten Bludhaven at this point?

IT'S A NUKE???

THEY ARE LOOKING DIRECTLY AT IT, HOW ARE THEIR EYES NOT GETTING BURNT OUT OF THEIR HEADS

I'm just realizing how many explosives there are in this series. Between the bombs the Bats use, and the bombs Jason sets up, and... what happened to bludhaven. That, kids, is what we call a theme!

Bruce really is sympathetic in this. It's subtle, which is good, I don't think anyone would have appreciated the author blaring out "BATMAN IS IN THE RIGHT, HE'S THE BEST GUY, FUCK JASON."

And Jason is getting more and more unhinged as the fight progresses.

You know, it's occurring to me that this all could have been prevented if New Jersey had the death penalty. There's no way Joker could have gotten the insanity plea so many times if they could put him in the ground for good.

...I wonder if Batman votes to reinstate the death penalty?

"But why... why on God's earth--??! Is he still alive!!??" Is just... such a good reveal. Such a good line. No wonder we're all so fixated on this character, omg.

Oh. This is why Jason thinks Batman doesn't love him.

It's the lack of reciprocation. Jason sees "killing the Joker after he killed you" as an act of love. Batman cannot provide that act, so Jason sees that refusal as proof he is unloved.

The funniest Joker's ever been:

Oh, the batarang moment. Oh no.

Oh no oh no oh no

I still feel like resurrection via Superboy punching the universe hard is still a cop-out reason why Jason's alive, but the line "Until time decided to set things right." is speaking to me.

Oh god, the buried alive scene is brutal.

Okay, so Jason came back fully sane, he definitely knew what he was doing breaking out of the coffin, but his injuries that were unhealed and getting hit by a fucking car are what caused his catatonic state. He didn't just wake up not all there, that happened because no one was looking out for him.

Okay, so 6 months dead, about a... year in a coma. It says a year for his time catatonic on the streets, then a year with Talia, still catatonic... that's three and a half years, Jason really started being the Red Hood... like what, a few weeks after he got tossed in the Pits?

...I thought the pits were green. They look gold in my version of these comics, is that normal?

EW, WHY'D SHE KISS HIM

Also, there was no brainwashing this boy, Talia literally just said "you remain avenged" and it sent Jason on this whole murder spiral, she didn't do shit

Except kiss him. which, EW

Alright, good night everybody!

[chalkscrub]

chalkrub stuns in new oc-tober prompts

it's a text-heavy update...i love rambling

day 11: symbolism/themes/visual metaphor i.e my favourite things in the world - eng lit nerds make some noise!!!!!

goin back to day 11 with my favourite thing in the world: an unfinished sketchy concept. and also SYMBOLISM and themes and metaphor…and also dark green

so mika and heidi's story is haunted by one time they happened upon a drowned fox and pheasant in a disused canal, something which came at a weird time in their lives and which heidi made weirder by making cryptic suggestions about the whole thing, especially playing on mika’s (former) religious beliefs about spirit connections. Over time, it’s infected mika with budding paranoia in the form of nightmares, hallucinations and latent aquaphobia, all of which she begins seeing as premonitory

shan’t overexplain the symbolism even though my brain wants me to, but this was all inspired by seeing literally the exact same thing on a walk with my great aunt when I was like 6 or 7. the canal water was all covered in algae/pondweed so i’m guessing the fox chased the pheasant, they both mistook the canal for grass, then fell in and drowned together. even as a little kid I was like wrow this is so poignant and tragic and heavy with the potential for on-the-nose symbolism….. or alternatively it just looked cool as hell and felt kind of rare and special. either way, like 15 years later I was developing a new direction for a couple of initially completely unrelated ocs, i.e mika and heidi, and at some point in their story development, I was like now wait a second….this is just like that one time I saw those animals who chased each other into an early shared fate and drowned together…… and it fit them really well and also made everything click into place for the main story, it was kind of uncanny. Thank you nature for showing me cool things every day, and rip to the fox and pheasant you live in my mind forever and always

day 12: future

BEAS!!! beas i love you beas. initial beasley flavour on the left and future flavour on the right. his whole deal is he wants to start a cult, so he ventures to The Big City to make a name for himself. then he realises imps like him are a dime a dozen in the city and nobody cares about him, so he has to scrape by working a minimum wage job as a cashier in a tiny corner shop. he’s from a comic I (partially) made for uni, idk how his story goes exactly but I guess it probably ends with the typical sappy message of being yourself for yourself and not for fame or fortune or whatever. he gets up to hijincks, feels sad and depressed, and goes through the torment of living with his own mediocrity in a world that demands greatness. imps grow with power, not with age, so at the start of the story, even though he’s an adult, he’s still as small as when he was born/summoned/spawned/whatever. he’s got some shapeshifting prowess, so his future form is more an example of the kinds of feats he can pull off when his powers stabilise, and also his cool badass flaming eyes.

day 14: inspiration.

here's a convoluted block of text explaining the heretic's main inspiration, which isn't very apparent in the design at ALL but nevertheless: they’re kind of inspired by the concept of a closet costume. like how you can throw a bedsheet over yourself and cut out some eyeballs and voila. You’re a ghost. Or put a big furry coat and a mask on and you’re a werewolf now. almost all of their design links back to this in a roundabout way: the fur is meant to look like a rug/coat/furry thing draped over something. I used to have a sheepskin rug when I was a kid and I’d always hide under it and crawl about and pretend to be a monster lmao…this is what i looked like in my head maybe. The normal shoes poking out are the human element – like how halloween costumes will sometimes be mostly themed but the shoes are just practical, or you see shoes poking out beneath one of those two-man horse costumes. The face is meant to look mask-like – the glassy unfocused eyes, the fixed toothy grin, the simple cone shape. The black eyelids are meant to be like those Halloween masks that have eyeholes above/below the eyes, covered with that black fabric to make it less obvious there's eyeholes. And the ears are floppy to be like socks or something; they have those two black lines because they remind me of loose stitching. Also just some animal influences thrown in – possums, goats and bulls…..none of the closet costume stuff is meant to be noticeable or apparent in the design, so why did I put so much thought into it? who know… but this thing is one of my favourite designs I’ve made so maybe it was all worth it

[thewertsearch]

Anonymous asked: it’s not that The Homestuck Epilogues make a really good argument for “being canon” — it’s that they (and Andrew) make an INSANELY good argument that “canon” is a meaningless descriptor for something like homestuck. remember, homestuck has always been “fan fiction” in the sense that from literally its very beginning it has been prompted by reader commands. literally every rule homestuck invites us to explore it eventually subverts or straight up breaks. John’s name is John, not Zoosmell Pooplord, John is “commanded” (but retains his free will) etc — it makes sense to eventually challenge the idea of Andrew as an auter. remember, the story frames even Andrew (AND mspa readers!!) as fictional characters within the physicality of paradox space. homestuck is literally ALREADY fanfiction.

I like the argument you're making, here. The idea of a work of fiction that subverts or wholly rejects the notion of 'canon' is pretty interesting, and on an academic level, it would be kind of cool to analyze it. It could challenge the idea of what it means for something to be a story.

The problem is, well... I just don't think I'd enjoy such a story, as a personal reading experience. I'm here, primarily, to enjoy myself - and Homestuck isn't enjoyable to me because it's waxing philosophical about canon. It's enjoyable to me because I'm invested in the characters, and I like theorizing about its events and lore.

I'm fine with a certain level of meta fuckery, but I have my limits. If Homestuck was just constantly pointing at its characters and saying by the way, these are just person-shaped narrative devices, it would hurt my investment in them, and therefore my enjoyment of the story. If Homestuck started saying my rules are irrelevant and your passion for analyzing them will not be rewarded, then it would kill my motivation to make theories, and torpedo my enjoyment of the story.

If Homestuck's sequels do anything like that, then they're probably very interesting works of fiction, and I'd love to read meta about them. But I don't think I'd actually like them.

Anonymous asked: i've found that if you like homestuck for the themes, the meta stuff and the weird multiverse whatever, then you'll like the epilogues; if you like homestuck for the CHARACTERS, you'll hate the epilogues. most of the fandom only cares about the characters, or cares SIGNIFICANTLY more about the characters, which is fair because they're great. i personally love both and thus find the epilogues incredibly conflicting. i think you'll like them, or at least find them worth reading

In other words: I like the themes, characters, and weird multiverse whatever, but I'm just not that interested in canon discourse, as it applies to Homestuck. Not because it's inherently bad, but because I feel like it's at odds with what does interest me about the comic.

Now, don't get me wrong - I'll happily engage with Homestuck's canon discourse, so long as it doesn't get in the way of zany fraymotifs, punch-card alchemy, and alien teenagers saying funny shit. Whether I like Homestuck's sequels will depend on exactly how it splits the difference between the former and the latter.

[narcjsistx]

Hi, I hope you're doing well.🤗 I absolutely love your relationships HC.🤩 I don't want to be rude, but could I request from Toma!Chifuyu and Tenjiku!Kakucho (my favorite boys)? Thank you very much.❤️

HI! thanks for the request, hope you have a good day 💜 you didn't specify the theme of the hcs, so I'll use the basic one as it would be in a relationship (if I made a mistake, tell me immediately, I'll correct it and do the theme you like most!) Furthermore, I'm still not used to making two characters in one post, so as soon as I have 2 free minutes I will post the part dedicated to kakucho :)

𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ; 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒!!

— Matsuno Chifuyu in a relationship HCS ᡣ𐭩

He's clearly the kind of guy who learned everything slightly romantic he does from a romantic manga he read. He's canonically a fan of Ai Yazawa, the creator of Nana, so who knows, maybe sooner or later he'll give you some glasses with strawberries

It seems impossible but he asks Takemichi for advice on how to deal with you. We all know that Takemichi isn't exactly the person with the most self-esteem in a relationship, however he has always helped Chifuyu, despite sometimes getting into trouble for stupid mistakes. Hanagaki had advised him to get you some flowers to give you after school, but he got the ones you're allergic to. He panicked when he saw you sneeze so many times in a row while you told him to move the flowers away from you

He's slightly unsure of himself, but he doesn't show it. As a result, he feels slight jealousy which he hides quite well, he knows that you would never cheat on him and therefore he represses this side of him because he knows that it is useless. Maybe when he doesn't succeed he'll show off a little more, perhaps resting his head on yours or giving you a few pinches on the side

A typical date might be at a comic book store. He would like to spend time with you at his side while you talk about the comics you are reading or would like to read, and I don't know why but I can see him showing you the cover of a romantic manga where the two protagonists are while he says "this could be us"

Your first kiss wasn't actually planned, or at least not for him. It was Baji who insisted that he had to kiss you, he didn't agree because he wanted you to take the first step and he didn't want to force you anyway, Baji ignored it and pushed him against you. As luck would have it, the impact made you kiss

More than a few times he faked his condition after a fight. You have an unwritten rule that says that after every fight he has to call you, because you want to know if he's okay or not. He often says he feels fine even when he has a few broken bones. He hates seeing you worry about him, so he tries to lie as best he can

You automatically entered the group formed by him and Baji. You're both his two favorite people, so why not all of you hang out together? You often go on long motorbike rides, you and Chifuyu on his motorbike and Baji on his, or you simply like to while away the hours at the arcade in Shibuya

The first time you went to his house, the first person, or rather animal, that welcomed you was Peke J: he immediately approached and started meowing. You spent a few hours with the cat on your lap while petting it, while Chifuyu whispered that you were giving more attention to the cat than to your boyfriend

He's the type to celebrate every date, even a stupid one. For example, it was precisely midnight and you were sleeping when you received a phone call from him. You asked him why he called you so late, which was unusual because if he called you it was before you went to bed. He, extremely happy, said he had called you because it was the date when for the first time, two years earlier, you had sat together in class, but at the time you weren't even friends, therefore not even engaged. You wanted to insult him, but you admit it was nice

I don't know why but I see him as someone who LOVES matching clothes. Like, if you casually told him that you're going to show up on a date in a beige dress, he'll do anything to find something beige in his closet. He finds it a nice thing to do as a couple

[fuctacles]

"What are those 'freaks' exactly?" Steve asks from the back seat of the car. He does have a vague idea but it's not something that comes up in daily conversation or gets covered in classes. He's not even interested in going, but his parents rarely take him anywhere, so when his mom mentioned that a freak show came to town and she wanted to check it out, he backed her up and his father reluctantly agreed to make it a family trip.

“Human curiosities,” his mother answers, which explains nothing to him.

“Mother Nature’s fuck-ups,” adds his father, making Steve frown. 

Wasn’t nature supposed to be orderly and thought out? Meticulously crafted by evolution or god’s plan, whichever you believed in? (Steve’s teachers had a confusing beef about it.)

Then again, nature invented spiders, which Steve would consider a fuck-up on its part. He remembers Dustin telling him about a comic about a spider-man. The thought of a human-shaped arachnid makes his skin crawl and he loses all his curiosity on the topic. Suddenly the family trip doesn't seem so fun anymore.

The short drive to the empty fields on the outskirts of Hawkins is filled with the Top 40 playing on the radio. His father taps his fingers to the beat of some of them, proving against all odds that he's capable of enjoying trivial human things. Steve loves to sing along and dance in the confines of his room but here, trapped in a car with his parents, he just bops his head slightly, not wanting to disturb the silence.

The freak show is a lot like the circus his uncle took him to once. There is a scattering of tents and trucks in varying sizes, all in a similar, kitschy theme of a fun fair. The air even smells of popcorn and hot dogs.

His mother scrunches her nose as soon she steps out of the car.

“This is not what I expected,” she comments, eyeing the scattering of kids and families running around.

“Well...” His father slams the door shut, pulling out a cigarette even before locking the car. “These things are dying off because of human rights activists,” he says around the cig he's trying to light. “Guess they had to rebrand to keep the business afloat.”

It's Steve’s turn to scrunch his face. His dad makes everything about business and money, even something supposedly fun, like a Sunday family trip to a fair; freak show, circus, whatever this is.

“It used to be a huge tent with displays. Now each of them gets their own? Who do they think they are?” his mother laments while hanging onto her husband’s arm, while Steve tails behind.

They pass a tent with a Siamese Twins sign hanging from the front, with a man at the front of the line, gathering money and letting people in. Nearby is another tent, occupied by a Bearded Lady, then a Half-man Half-wolf behind it. The line to that one is particularly long.

The Harringtons agree to take a walk around and decide which ones they want to spend money on, and whether it's even worth it. They've already paid an entrance fee that gives them access to most of the attractions anyway.

They pass a couple of smaller booths, a face-painting clown, and a juggler, before reaching the biggest tent in the center. In front of it stands a chalkboard with a schedule of main events. According to it the next show, between 1 pm and 2:30 pm, was a music performance, pricing a dollar per song: The Twisted Jukebox. 

Steve decides to stay back, with a couple of bills burning in his pocket, while his parents keep exploring.

The light coming in from the top of the tent illuminates a box in the stage center, throwing a long shadow against the soft glow. As he comes closer he realizes it's a jukebox, and he wonders what could possibly be so special about it to warrant an hour-and-a-half-long performance slot. The sign says 'a dollar per song', but does it even take bills?

He decides that the couple of minutes left until the start gives him enough time to examine the machine. It isn't as close to the edge of the stage as he’d like but he presses against the wooden construction nevertheless, cocking his head to the side. The jukebox looks off, different from the ones he'd see at diners, but he can't exactly put his finger on why.

“Hi! Would you like to request a song?”

The sudden voice to his left startles him into bumping his elbow against the stage. He winces as he turns around.

A blonde girl is smiling at him apologetically. She's wearing a short green dress, with a jacket he's seen on other circus staff thrown over her shoulders. She must be involved in the show, then.

He glances back at the jukebox, the song list unreadable from his vantage point.

“What are my options?” he asks, looking at the girl again. 

“Any song works!” she says with a bright smile, and he frowns at her, confused.

"That's not how jukeboxes work," he observes. But her smile only widens.

"This one does," she assures him. "So?"

His mind blanks in when put on the spot like that, but he thinks back to the songs he's heard on the radio today.

"Madonna's Material Girl?" he suggests hesitantly. For some reason, she laughs.

"That's perfect. You're the first one today, so you'll get the honors. Do you have a token already?"

The face he makes must be answer enough because she smiles and produces a coin from her pocket. Or a poker chip painted gold to resemble a coin.

"I hope you have a dollar because I don't have any change yet."

He remembers how gigs work, that you have to pay the performers, and dives into his pocket. He didn't take much with him, but one dollar isn't a problem. He exchanges it for the golden token.

"Follow me." The girl motions at him and turns around abruptly. Stunned, he does as he's told until they reach the steps on the side of the stage. She moves aside as if expecting him to go up there.

He's confused as all hell. Is this how all circus performers were? Freaks in both senses of the word?

The girl chuckles at him and she's too cute for Steve to be offended but it's a close call.

"Hop up there, put the coin in the slot and the show will start. I'll come get you after that."

His confusion triples down but he's used to nodding along when a cute girl talks to him so that's what he does now as well. Blondes are not exactly his type, but maybe he could ask her out and show her around town later.

"Okay," he says before stepping on the stage. When he turns around the girl is gone and he hopes it's not some kind of twisted joke.

The sunlight coming through an open flap on the tent's dome lights the stage, casting the surrounding audience in shadows, which Steve is grateful for. He doesn't want to know what kind of faces they are making looking at the dumbass on stage approaching a jukebox.

It looks almost like any other he's seen before, though the paint job is custom. Twisted Jukebox is written at the top in scratchy letters, and the sides are painted with images of fantastical creatures: dragons, unicorns, and the like. Not Steve's style but someone did a good job on it.

The songs list though, is... peculiar. It has things like:

Anything by Metallica, please,

No Wham! I beg of you,

Country over Pop.

Steve wonders briefly if he had even woken up this morning. Everything from the moment his mother proposed a family outing has been too weird to be real.

Finally, his eyes land on the colorful slot with an arrow pointing to it saying "$1 - 1song". He rubs his thumb over the token he's been given before flipping it sideways and sliding it in.

The coin rattles inside like it just fell through into an empty box. He frowns.

read the rest here with art by @blasvemous

And then, the sides of the jukebox fall apart.

[beifong-brainrot]

While mostly find Kuvira a relatively straightforward character, I do love how the theme of rejection is just so ingrained into her character.

Of course we have Kuvira herself experiencing what many would call the cruellest rejection possible, being literally given away by her own biological parents.

Kuvira: [She angrily turns her head toward Korra as the shot cuts to a wide view.] Don't pretend you know what it felt like! [Wildly, waving her free arm.] The Avatar is adored by millions! I was cast aside by my own parents like I meant nothing to them.

We also see that, while Kuvira is invited with a lot of love by Su, who clearly is open to taking Kuvira into her family, Kuvira clearly didn't feel like part of the family. It isn't exactly concrete why this is the case. We can be certain that Opal, who was most likely working through her own issues surrounding not being a bender and feeling that Suyin is replacing her.

I know it's very easy to theorise that Kuvira was somehow isolated and ostracised from the Beifongs and while I can see this being the case, I haven't seen many people talk about just how avoidant Kuvira herself is.

I mean, Kuvira was horrifically rejected by the people she was meant to unconditionally trust and rely on. As a child who doesn't exactly understand why this is happening to her and that it wouldn't happen again, what better way to defend yourself if you reject them before they can reject you.

I think Bolin hit the nail on the head here. (When will we get a Bolin Kuvira argument i need it in my life)

Kuvira fears rejection. She struggles to form proper relationships, even her one intimate relationship with Baatar Jr had a certain amount of.... padding? If you know what I mean.

I don't doubt that Kuvira had a lot of affection for Baatar. I just think that she still kept a healthy dose of diatance in her relationship with him.

Her relationship with Baatar Jr is actually really fun. It sort of mirrors Kuvira's own childhood disillusionment with relationships.

Baatar also suffers a brutal rejection from someone. Kuvira, the woman he loved, and to some extent, for whom he abandoned all previous relationships tries to kill him. Directly after he pours his heart out to her and and restates his love for her. And now it's him isolating himself, particularly from Kuvira, even when she does try to reach out. (I do giggle at how much Kuvira gets consistently swerved in the comics)

The parasocial relationship Kuvira fosters with her Empire is also worth taking into consideration. Kuvira obviously is projecting her own childhood trauma onto the entire damn country which is my fave part of her character because who does that lol.

I've mentioned this in my comparison of the Earth Empire and Russia in the throes of Stalinism but I wouldn't be surprised if Kuvira cultivating a cult of personality to bolster her leadership is also her attempting to build connections that she deems "safe".

She holds the power in these relationships, she's basically a celebrity and if someone does step out of line, they are betraying not Kuvira, but the Nation. Postulating herself as an untouchable emperess also, once again, allows her a certain level of distance from others.

I'm not sure if Kuvira is aware she's perpetuating her own loneliness. I wanna say yes, because when she is alone, she acknowledges to herself that Suyin indeed was there for her and that she can rely on her. But she's so good at manipulating and gaslighting that she may have tricked herself fully into believing she's the victim, like she had with her warcrimes at the beginning of RotE.

All in all, I think Kuvira is a very interesting character if not one that is simply putting an slightly new spin on tried and true tropes. I will say I find it quite odd how many people take what she says without a second thought when she clearly has a vested interest in lying, but she is very charismatic and fun to analyse lol.

[littlecrittereli]

catching up on all the chapters of decoded and i'm literally tweaking out. your writing has so much imagery and you're able to capture the reoccurring themes and emotions of healing, anxiety, desperation, and disorders like PTSD even if you're not specifically saying it (like the knife imagery, and how chris feels like he's walking on egg shells around the crew whenever he feels like he's trying to earn their trust back, or trying to get that label of mentally stable back on him). it throws me for such a loop anytime i see some of the words you use. "invasive" really stuck out to me when you were describing the chip in chris' arm, and (as an older sibling) you capture the complex of an older brother perfectly. i feel like such a fangirl, but you're able to place the reader in everyone's shoes (besides diego n anyone not on the crew), from chris struggling to heal and feel trusted--and survivors guilt, to martin just wanting his brother to feel secure (and struggling to cope with the change), to aviva, koki and jimmy all caring for him. I also LOVE how you show little instances into chris'.... well.... i guess memory gaps? or i guess his time in the suit? I don't know how exactly to word it, but you ride the line between telling too much, and telling to little-- it's just enough that it's disturbing and leaves so many questions. and the pure symbolism in chris scarring martin while in the suit, the branding and ownership imagery, the loss of self-- its all so amazing, im enamored! it's honestly a work of art and honestly i'm obsessed with how the story's evolving. just AAAAAA if i could read your fic for the first time again, i would. if I had the time to write a dissertation on it, i also would. keep up the amazing work!!! im so excited to see all the things yet to come with your writing (you should totally write a book at some point!!) (and your art is amazing too!!!)

-sincerely, a college english major (who's also sick with brain fog so sorry if this isn't as clear as it should be)

This is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me wtf

HEKSHSJ IM SO HAPPY YOU ENJOY IT AHHHHH im so insane for them and everytime someone matches my insanity i jump around in my enclosure

This is honestly the first thing I’ve written thats over 20k!! I have never been super confident in my writing capabilities, sticking more to art and comics. But I really wanted to give it a try, and I’ve been learning so much and having so much fun with it!

I will definitely be writing more stories in the future, but Reprogrammed is really special to me in a lot of ways. There’s a lot of symbolism and deeper interactions that I don’t usually explore. It’s honestly been really refreshing and healing to me in a way :]

[positivelybeastly]

Hey again, since you've once again brought up the idea of Hank and fatherhood, thought I'd try again to bring up his romantic history ( first comes love then comes marriage, Yada Yada and all that)

For a guy so down on himself and his appearance his got a pretty good dating history, and that's not even counting the people he's been teased with that the writers haven't pulled the trigger with yet

* cough*wonderman* cough*

How do you think Hanks romantic history in comics reflects on him as a romantic partner, both good and bad?

It's not my fault Hank's got such dad energy that people want to talk about how good of a father he'd make all the time. ;)

So, I think that Hank's romantic history is. Interesting. Because there's the surface level perception of Hank, and then there's the actuality of Hank as a romantic partner.

The surface level is largely dictated by the only non-comics source that ever bothered to give him a romance (no, I emphatically do not count the Mystique bullshit from the movies), which was the 90s animated series and the continuation of that theme in '97 this year.

Yep, it's time to talk about Carly Crocker!

Now, Carly is a completely original creation for the 90s show, and she doesn't quite fit any of the archetypes of Hank's other notable comics paramours, so I'd hazard a guess that they just kinda freestyled it here because, well, Hank's other romantic partners up to this point (Vera Cantor and Trish Tilby) wouldn't have fit the interracial romance/literal Beauty and the Beast angle that this episode is going for.

Carly's cute! I like her dynamic with Hank. They're very soft and tender with one another - she's not what I'd call frightfully complex, but she's a good woman with a nice dynamic that tugs at the heart strings a little, and especially given that the original 90s cartoon was aimed at kids, I feel like this is the right level of romantic interest to give a similarly relatively un-complex version of Beast.

Neither of them have any real negative qualities because if they did, well, it would detract from the tragedy of their denied romance and the unfairness of it all. It's very clear that the makers of the show want you to come away from this thinking that it's complete bullshit that Hank and Carly can't be together because other people are so small minded, and that would be muddied if Carly was, idk, kinda rude, or if we more faithfully transcribed some of Hank's neuroses to screen. So instead, it's very idealised.

This is where a lot of people get their idea of what Beast is like. He is a perfect saint who literally cures the blind on his time off from being a superhero, and his paramour is an angelic blind woman who is completely free from prejudice or rough edges. I think it's fine for what the show is going for, but it's not quite accurate to what Hank and his romantic history is like - to the point where I've seen some people (usually Redditors) say, UGHHHH, Beast was never the saint you think he was in the 90s cartoon, he's ALWAYS been morally grey, you fools! The fun blue uncle never existed in the comics!

And it's like, my guy. Yeah, the 90s show embellished a little bit, but this is not a million miles away from who Hank is. He's simplified, but Hank was absolutely a fun blue uncle jokester with a heart of gold for most of his existence. Maybe it wasn't exactly who he was in the comics, but neither is he what certain later writers think he is.

But. I digress.

We do, of course, have the '97 romance to consider, but we'll get to that, because that's a lot to unpack . . .

Comics!

Vera Cantor!

Ugh.

So, like . . . teenage Hank is just obnoxious. I don't enjoy him, tbh. He occasionally has good lines, but I'm basically just sitting around flicking his annoying head like

But in this instance, the 'do something' is turn blue. He's so much less obnoxious and annoying when he's blue . . .

Even filtering out the 60s misogyny, which isn't a particularly interesting flaw to try and give Hank, he's just not a great romantic partner because he's too stuffy and bookish. He's inattentive to Vera's needs and it really does read like he's only here because, well, it's something to do and Bobby needs a wingman. Vera states that she likes Hank because he's refined, which I suppose is true enough, but that's not enough to build anything more than a flirtation out of, tbh.

He's just. Not ready yet, for a fulfilling romance. The stuffiness and the blowhard vocabulary are all a smokescreen for a lot of insecurity, and that's just not someone who's ready to have a relationship.

Then again, when has that ever stopped a teenager?

They survive for longer than they should have done, honestly, given that Hank and Bobby are literally ALWAYS being called away to do X-Men things, which naturally puts a damper on dates, and they're on decent enough terms when she shows up again in Amazing Adventures, needing his help in dealing with Mimic's whole deal in Incredible Hulk.

It's a comic book romance (derogatory). It is what it is. Not really all that complex, not a lot to write home about.

Where it gets interesting is when J.M. DeMatteis enters the picture.

There's something very . . . performative, about Hank's romance with Vera, under DeMatteis. And I don't say that analytically, I mean that completely, utterly literally.

Silence. Uncertainty.

Guys, if I have to tell you that this is a bad foundation for a relationship, then I'm worried for you and your significant others. You can't be with someone because they're safe. That's part of a good reason to be with someone, but if you look at someone, and the best you can think of when you look at them is, you remind me of when my personal life was a little less scary because it was being dictated by a stern Professor Xavier, that's. Probably a sign???

It's also not great that Vera hasn't discovered feminist literature yet, so she keeps falling for being lovebombed because Hank is a bad boyfriend.

And this scene is just a big fuckin' WOOF.

Kid? Is that . . . really how you want to talk to your girlfriend, Hank?

Like . . . in the end, this is not the worst relationship in the world. Hank, when he's around, is charming. He's a good man. He writes good poetry, he'll take you dancing, he's handsome, he's great in bed, and he's a goddamn superhero. He is a fundamentally good man.

But.

He is inconsistent. He is prone to making decisions without consulting you. He is prone to showboating and revelling in attention from his fans because he has self-esteem issues. And, in the end? He's just not that into you, Vera. The base problem is still kind of the same - he's immature. He hasn't grown up yet. He's working on it! He's showing some self-awareness! But it's gonna be a bit before he's really good for anything beyond a fling.

Thankfully, Vera grew up and out of it quickly. Good for her!

The fact that they're still friendly means Hank didn't completely fuck this one up. I think both of them realise they had a lot of growing up to do, and I think that's the kind of sin you forgive people for a lot more when they're actually working on it, which Hank did.

Now, let's compare and contrast . . . with Jennifer Nyles.

I fucking love Jen.

Introduced in 1991's Marvel Presents as a flashback character who was Hank's first proper girlfriend (there's a character called Mindy that appears to have been a less serious relationship before Jen), Jennifer is a clever clogs like Hank, and even more feisty.

Hank remarks multiple times that if it hadn't been for his choice to join the X-Men, he likely would have stayed with Jen for the rest of his life, and I can see it. In a world where Hank didn't go with the X-Men, he lives a quiet, happy life with Jen in Illinois. Maybe he wins a Nobel Prize for biophysics. They have kids. They're good.

But, instead, Xavier wipes her mind of Hank's existence, and it shifts her entire world's axis - she commits her genius to the task of working out what the gap in his mind is, and becomes an expert in the field of techno-organic cybernetics.

As you do.

They find each other again. They have their moments together. And then, because Hank is a superhero, and they live dangerous lives, and Jen is reckless enough to get involved in dangerous endeavours to try and work out what was stolen from her, she nearly dies.

Nearly.

Hank and Jen are incredibly compatible, to be honest. They're a great match, and it's interesting to compare her to Vera, who is identified as a librarian, an 'intelligent' profession, but whom Hank seems disinterested in, whereas Jen, who is explicitly on Hank's level, enraptures him, and in the end, he's forced to let her go for her safety.

In the end, Hank doesn't want someone who'll just hold his hand, he wants someone who can challenge him intellectually, someone who will hold him to account, who can match his wit, and Vera . . . can't.

Not really.

It's partly a foible of when they met, partly a case of Vera being who she is and Hank who he is, but in the end, it all comes down to how Vera reacted when she received those flowers and poetry. She folded. She was charmed. She fell for Hank's charming exterior. And that's. Kinda. Not interesting to him? I don't even think he realises that's what's going on, but it is what happened. She showed him that she would put up with his shenanigans, and that's not what Hank wants. Not really.

You could almost see it as a game that Hank plays, a challenge to see if you can scratch the surface and get at who he really is, under the surface, if you're dedicated to getting at him. Maybe that's unfair of him to do, but again, I don't think it's something he even realises he's doing. He has walls up for a reason, and if you break through them, then you clearly want him - he can believe that, because you just fought him, to get to him. It all comes back to that insecurity . . .

It's also worth noting here that Hank and Jen have another encounter in X-Men Unlimited vol. 2 #10, in a way that contradicts Marvel Presents. It's hard to reconcile, since she remembers Hank here when she shouldn't, but I like both stories too much to really fight over which one I have as canon, so I kinda just don't think about it too much.

"What would you think of me if I was to tell you how terrified I am of everything right now?"

"You've never been scared of anything in your life. I think we should both be brave and go take a look at what might be hiding in the cemetery."

That touch, that tenderness . . . ouahhghhhh . . . the timelines are screwy, and these are all written years apart from one another, but I do think it's significant that Hank spends entire issues of Amazing Adventures and Incredible Hulk hiding his beastly appearance from Vera under a mask, and yet, he willingly unwraps his bandages for Jen.

I think that tells you all about how willing he is to be his true self around Jen versus Vera. Hank literally says he doesn't know who he is sometimes around Vera, and she tells him, I'll help you find out if you let me. Helpful, but it doesn't fix the problem. Meanwhile, Hank is in the midst of the worst depression and fear of his life, reeling from his worst ever mistake, and Jen tells him that she'll be brave with him, and they'll confront the unknown together. He finds catharsis that way. Vera is supportive. Jennifer is proactive. Hank appreciates both, of course, but only through one can he achieve growth.

But, that's no real surprise, because . . . she's the one who tells him this, too . . .

Jennifer Nyles, you have, like, 9 appearances in all of Marvel Comics, but I would die for you. Genuinely one of the most influential characters in Hank's life, tbh.

. . . SPEAKING OF INFLUENTIAL CHARACTERS.

So . . . in the interests of a fair analysis, Trish is an interesting character. She believes in transparency, the democratisation of information, she is eminently heroic, she is self-sacrificing, she is intelligent, and she is strong.

You can see why Hank would be attracted to her. She can cut through the flip attitude and get at the Hank underneath. If we're going with the theory that Hank is playing keep away with his real feelings so that the only people who get close to him are the people who work to get there and he can believe that they're there for him, then Trish will succeed, because she'll put in the work.

But, the problem is, the Hank she met was human Hank, and even though she claims not to have a problem with the fur - and maybe, at this point, she doesn't! - we know that Hank's mutation becomes a problem for her.

Man, if I had a penny for every time I posted these panels, I wouldn't have to work.

But. In the interests of fairness. I have to point out that the problem here is not that Trish found it hard to get used to Hank's changing face - I've talked about this before, that it's understandable it would become an issue for her, in a romantic relationship, faces and bodies and the tangible aspects of a person are more important than ever - but that she thought this was in any way an acceptable way to do it.

Trish's insecurity made her lash out and 'fix' the problem in a way that saved her career and severed the tie that would drag her down. That is. An understandable reaction. It's hurtful, but in the end, she's prioritising herself, and that's. Understandable. That being said?

She had no fucking right to even try this.

Like. No??? You don't get to do this??? Fuck off??? You exited from his life in a way that saved your career and your reputation, you do not get to try and dip back in because you feel bad - and, I'm going to be incredibly fucking honest, that's if that's even the reason she's doing it. I suspect, maybe maliciously, but maybe not, that she had ulterior motives, because of past behaviour.

Because do you want to know what the worst thing Trish Tilby ever actually did was?

Meet Dennis Hogan. He is a mutant. His power is to look like a lizard. That's it. He also was infected by the Legacy Virus, making him incapable of controlling those transformations. He is a perfectly harmless, innocent young man, who is trying to find medical help for a disease that he had no way of avoiding contracting.

Trish Tilby is directly responsible for his death in a hate crime.

And Trish's response, when Hank brings this up?

Just throw the whole fucking woman out. She's septic garbage.

How does this reflect on Hank? It reflects badly that he ever took her back after this. After she sold out his fucking race, got an innocent man killed, deflected blame, physically assaulted her partner, and acted as if she, somehow, were the wronged party in this.

"If you were doing your job as well as I'm doing mine, there'd be one less dead mutant to mourn!"

Hank is currently working on a cure for the Legacy Virus, Patricia. Thank you for implying that he's not doing enough, while you sit around, hocking news stories that will tangibly improve your position at your job, that directly lead to hate crimes, because you have decided that people just NEED TO KNOW things that will make them act irresponsibly, hatefully, and cruelly.

Yes, there is such a thing as freedom of the press. There is such a thing as the democratisation of information.

And then there's this asshole, who was storming into Angel's hospital room with a camera, recording him with his ruined wings, chasing a story because it was the right thing to do, and damn the consequences.

Who cares who gets hurt, so long as Patricia Tilby gets her story?

It reflects badly on Hank that he ever went out with her. it reflects badly on Hank that he ever took her back. It reflects badly on everyone involved that they didn't have the heart to tell Hank to just fucking NOT.

This is who she is. It's who she's always been, since her first appearance, and it is stark how awful a woman she is.

The X-Men '97 adaptation of her was kind. Think about that for a moment. Think about the fact that turning this woman into a fucking Prime Sentinel couldn't make her do as much damage as she did with her own free will and bad judgement.

. . . Blech.

So, this is an incomplete history, because I've run out of images? Heh. If you want to hear more about Hank's other relationships, most notably Cecilia Reyes, Abigail Brand, and Simon Williams, feel free to send another ask, and I can link them together. Hope you found this informative and not as rambly as it feels.

Also, if I remember correctly, Cerebrocast is gonna do an episode on Trish Tilby soon? I have no intention of listening/watching to it, but keep all of this stuff in mind and see if it gets mentioned when that episode happens. Because that podcast's hate boner for Hank McCoy means I genuinely think they'll find a way to excuse Trish's poor behaviour just because it's Hank. It honestly wouldn't surprise me.

[lucianalight]

This is something my friend and I were discussing, but since neither of us watched the show and we just watched Ruth's clips because we love her 😅 I figured I would ask you.

How does Night Nurse's employment work in this universe? Is she a slave to Tamlyn Tomita's character? If she, at the end, said she didn't want to stay with the boys on Earth, would she get to make that choice?

As always this answer turned out longer that I expected🤦🏻😅 so TLDR; it's not clear how the employment works but the Night Nurse has to follow her superior's orders. Whether she can make her own choices depends on her origins and how Afterlife works but we don't have a definitive answer for either one of these questions yet. And I haven't read the comics so what I wrote are mostly speculations based on The Sandman and dbd TV shows.

Here's the long answer:

It is not clear how exactly Afterlife works. I would have said it's under Death of the Endless' supervision but the whole strict, bureaucratic theme of the office doesn't really match her vibes. It's clear that the people there, despite their power, do not have the freedom to do what they want. For example to get permission to go to Earth the Night Nurse had to have a specific location of the ghosts she wanted to retrieve. But does she have free will to disobey her orders? To answer this I have to make a detour first.

The Night Nurse works in the Lost and Found Department and her superior-Tamlyn Tomita's character-who is said to be very busy and has the number "002" on her office's door is in fact Niko. Niko was infected by dandelion sprites and was saved by dead boy detectives. As a result of her near death experience she could see the ghosts and became the dbd's friend. She had died just a few days ago protecting them.

So this powerful entity who according to her, could do anything she wanted was human once. The curious thing is that she didn't remember the boys, not until she saw her human name on their wall as one of the closed cases. So we can assume that all the other people in that department were also human once. A pair of twins that are mentioned as one of the closed cases can be further proof of that. The twins work under the Night Nurse could possibly be the same twins.

But why are these people working there? The Night Nurse mentions that death isn't an option available to her and technically she can live for eons. Maybe it is a place for the ones who can't actually find their afterlife? We see Niko dies but we never see her meeting Death or the blue light that comes with her. Instead we see Niko with the dandelion sprites in an igloo. This is probably the result of the polar bear lucky charm she had with her when she died but what that lucky charm did and why the sprites were there and how she aged or why she didn't remember the boys at first are all questions that we don't know the answer to.

All of this though can give of us some clues. Like wherever Niko went, time doesn't work the same and she could age. She somehow existed before she was born and died on Earth. So can the Night Nurse be one of the future cases the boys haven't helped yet? She has the ability to see people's traumas and when Crystal tries to see inside her head she sees a skeleton with lots baby hands inside her that terrifies her. I wouldn't be surprised if her human life is tied to sth traumatic involving children.

It is also interesting that one of her main interactions is with Kashi, someone in a terrible situation with no trauma, someone kind with no alterior motive that helps her sees and considers different ways to what is always been done. Free will and doing what one's like to do are also topics that are mentioned in relation to her character. So if there's a second season those are some of the themes that can be explored with her character.

But I think it also matters who the number one is Afterlife is. Dream of the Endless decided to give free will to his subjects. Whoever the number one is in Afterlife, is probably the one who has the last say in this.

[unitezine]

Frequently Asked Questions

What's a Zine?

A fanzine, or zine- short for magazine- is essentially what it says on the tin! It's a fan-made magazine based around whatever topic!

This zine is based around Nicktoons! Specifically, Nicktoons Unite, which reaches its 20th anniversary near the end of 2025! The theme is crossovers- looking

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If it's a Nicktoon, you're in! Of course, there are a few restrictions- ex. if it's a show based on a pre-existing media, you must be creating your pieces based on the show specifically.

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As I mentioned before, the theme for this zine is Crossovers! Nicktoons Unite is a crossover at heart, and we want to highlight that!!

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If you have any more questions, please do not hesitate to ask!! Thank you all so much and I'm very excited to get this thing started!!

[rottmnt-residuum]

In an ask you said that there won't be anything more severe than a lobotomy, but that doesn't mean there won't be anything worse, depending on what we consider worse I guess. But I'm still stuck at the lobotomy part and the effects of that. More like the emotional and mental part, since if I'm not mistaken it wasn't rare for patients to kinda lose... their empathy, or like feelings that they had for loved ones. I could be wrong but this thought just keeps bugging me.

Also will you explore the aftermath and healing part after their well, suffering ends? All the effects of what they've been through?

And... what do you exactly consider worse than a lobotomy? Like what type of thing could be worse in your opinion?

^^^ tags from a different ask.

While a decrease in empathy can happen- it's just one of the many symptoms of brain damage in general. Because what happens to Donnie, while technically a lobotomy, is basically just very deliberate brain damage. More in line with past lobotomies than current ones. It's very much not a targeted thing and more a, 'let's cause havoc til whatever we don't want to happen doesn't happen anymore!'

In Donnie's case, the area that is the most effected is the region of the brain responsible for speech and language. Of course the brain isn't really separated into sections that aggressively, so some other things will be effected, but that will be the most obvious difference. In fact, it's something you can already see happening if you paid attention in the ninpo space.

However, there are other things going on with Donnie, so be careful with what you identify as a symptom of brain damage.

Loss of empathy was never something we were going to go for, as it's very much... not something we enjoy? As well as something we see as very undermining of his established character. We don't really like the fandom interpretation of a low empathy Donnie, either. We see Donnie as very empathic, he just doesn't show it in a way that a lot of people would recognize. He's very much a fixer.

And while losing empathy could be interesting to explore, it very much conflicts with the themes of Residuum as a whole. So, not something y'all have to worry about ahaha

Aftermath wise... well, that's pretty far off. So my feelings might change, but I've never enjoyed healing narratives. Granted, it's just how other people handle them that I don't enjoy. So, I suppose yes, we would be exploring the consequences, but much of that is already planned in Residuum. Though, not really with a... comfort aspect. Anyway. If a healing arc does happen, it will either be an epilogue, its own comic, or something that co-author would do.

Also, can you really look at what I've done so far and honestly say that I'd be able to write comfort/fluff?

...Though, if y'all really wanted it, I guess I could try skskskskks

As for what I find worse than a lobotomy... In Residuum, the worst possible thing that could happen to someone, in my opinion, is demutation.

[batsplat]

been doing a Slow and Considered utena rewatch... and, look. I am deeply deeply wary of any mode of watching fiction about women that ends up just. centring men. this is not praxis. so as a disclaimer... 95% of my utena thinking has had NOTHING to do with this, it's just that this has become the place I put my motogp thoughts. not my utena thoughts. ideologically I object to even making this post on several different levels. so. with that in mind, and the knowledge that at most a single digit number of people will see this. let's go

one of my fave things about anthy as a character is how much she acts as... a mirror of sorts, not an empty vessel exactly but someone who isn't quite treated as a person in their own rights... like she's obviously not REALLY an empty vessel, she has her own thoughts and ideas and feelings and backstory, but her entire purpose is to not impose her own character on events. so you've got basically every character projecting something of themselves onto her - utena's desire to be a prince, saionji's performance of masculinity, miki's rejection of (his sister's) maturity etc etc etc... and they all essentially see what they want to see, or what they need to see, right. with saoinji he gets the worst of it because he's so obviously extremely delusional about this whole rose bride gig, he serves the function of accidentally revealing comic relief. but they're all at it. which makes it so fun to actually work through the show and detect where anthy is exerting agency... and she is kind of torturing the student council members, right - she might be the victim but she's also the tormentor

and what slaps about this 'witch' role that she plays is that she... kind of ends up bringing the worst out of everyone she comes across. she's unpopular, she's the scapegoat to be blamed when saionji has his depressive episode upon losing her, she's constantly positioned as a seductress just by existing. she brings out the pettiness in people, their smallest fears, lowliest desires... her brother was the one going around saving the maidens in the world - she might have the power, but all she could do with it was spirit him away and focus all the rage and bitterness of the world onto herself. she is the receptor for those emotions, she brings them out and then gets them projected onto her. and a big theme in this relationship between anthy and the outside world is this horror of crowds, of the judgement of mobs - which first really comes out during the ball in episode three, where nanami abandons her... "everyone's face begins to look the same and I get scared" she says earlier that episode

and then in episode 34 you get the 'explanation', the foundational myth of the show. anthy acting to protect her brother, who had taken upon himself the burden of saving the world - and in doing so takes the burden upon herself of the world's hatred. its fears and its cruelty. so you see the villagers come for her and enact their punishment... stabbed by each of them and hung up in eternal suffering

and that's the role she then takes in the series, right. she's the one who is leading mikage in corrupting students, whispering in his ear and pretending to be his loved one to further the cause. she provides miki with this ideal of submissive virginal femininity so he can fully condemn his whore sister. she teases out wakaba's envy of the special and the unique and the desirable by making herself appear the willing recipient of saionji's affections. she judges them even while she is judged - she serves a transformative function, she ends up revealing the worst in those who cross her path

and then you've got utena, who is the exact opposite - the extremely popular jock not yet disillusioned with societal ideals. her gender nonconformity isn't punished within the school environment (and her teacher's attempts to enforce the uniform code are never treated seriously, are merely scoffed at)... the girls love her for it and flock to her when she shows off her basketball prowess, swoon at her for merely walking past

utena is a strident individualist, one who with her protagonist juice doesn't even need any student council exemptions to defy the dress code. she stands out, she is supposed to stand out - and she is rewarded for it, up to a point. whenever she suffers her greatest defeats, she is forcibly feminised... whether she does so to herself, or whether akio quite literally dresses her in the costume of a princess. when akio has sex with her, she seems to embrace this femininity as a kind of maturity - but it is a false coming-of-age. this is not a style of presentation she would choose for herself. she wishes to be the prince

right then. none of this is particularly novel analysis - it's really just set up for where I'm going with this post. so that we're all on the same page. no particularly graceful way to manage this transition... but well. time to talk motogp. and I was thinking about some of this projection and perception business in relation to valentino. even if there is obviously something counterintuitive about relating anthy, whose entire character is about weaponised passivity, to valentino, who is anything but passive... but hear me out

valentino obviously has this stable enduring popularity going for him - one that resembles utena in being so unconditional he almost doesn't really have to care about it. public perception does matter especially when he can wield it as a weapon, but the public's love is never in question. utena can essentially opt out of a lot of the conventions and norms of the school because she doesn't even have to consider a world where she might be rejected. she is liberated by not having to fear the role of the social outcast. there is something about this with valentino too, who was horrendously popular before he even wanted to be and was prepared to deal with that level of attention paid to his every move. it's really key that this affinity starts when he's about 16-17... from then on, he is the public's starlet and then their god - and even when he has his scandals and controversies, that fundamental dynamic won't ever change. you see with a lot of his rivals how... there is this concern with image, right, this desire to be loved, or at the very least accepted by the masses. that simply isn't a concern for valentino, who often seeks to manipulate but far more rarely attempts to persuade. his popularity is a fact of his existence

Akio:  Oh? Wakaba-san... Utena:  Right. She's completely different now. Akio:  Like the goddess who leaves her name to the stars in the heavens... is that how it is? Utena:  But how did she become so pretty all of a sudden? Akio:  You don't understand, do you? You, living out your predestined fate... Utena:  Huh? Akio:  There are special people in the world. And they are always noticed. For example, like yourself... Utena:  Me? Akio:  Attend me. You're not particularly self-conscious, correct? That is the special quality that you carry from birth. Utena:  Oh? Akio:  Most people are but a single person amongst multitudes. However, given the slightest chance, they will shine with a light that they have never had before. Utena:  I've just wanted Wakaba to be happy for a long time. Akio:  It could even be said, that for many people, their special time lasts but briefly.

"you're not particularly self-conscious, correct" - and of course, this rare narrative juice allows them to transgress the established norms of gender without being punished too severely. utena can claim her role of prince, valentino can allow himself his girlish locks. it is during this time period that the public falls in love with him, the flamboyant clown who makes a mockery of the machismo of motorcycle racing. remember what valentino's very first rival in gp racing said:

“I saw a young guy with dyed hair and earrings who was like Superman on the bike. I thought to myself: 'That’s not for me.’ At first it was a shock. In 1996 we had already clashed a few times. He touched me once, we had an argument. In 1997 Valentino Rossi made me retire. But that’s not a bad story for me.”

it's transgressive - but it's ultimately going more or less unpunished. utena has her flocks of female admirers, straight men can't seem to get enough of valentino. he does not need to be self-conscious. he can be affected by controversy like anyone else, but rarely is he actively attempting to win popularity. he was loved enough early enough that it has become nothing less than a fact of his existence

which obviously brings its own perils with it. I've posted two extended discussions in valentino's autobiography of his relation to fame - and in fact they follow directly on from each other, first here then here. in one he frames his preference for the night in terms of the anonymity it provides, these precious moments where he can disappear. the night allows him to be unseen, to escape the crowd at last. his fame is such that he cannot live an ordinary life - and the italians never fail to recognise him

As I say, I have a special relationship with the night. I like moving in it, living in it, thinking in it, relaxing in it. The night fascinates me, because it’s the period of least confusion. The world calms down, it goes quiet. And, besides, I’m Valentino Rossi. I’m wanted… I’m a fugitive.

the second excerpt goes into more detail about his relationship with the italians - for all his love for them, how he struggles with the familiarity they assume. the extent to which they treat him as theirs... he talks of 'types' of italians, who all want different things from him - but what they want says more about them than it does about him. he might as well be a mirror. he is not expected to contribute to those discussions, merely to be a prop within them. the worrier, the sensationalist, the moralist... they all bring so much of themselves to this encounter and little of valentino - the idea of valentino is enough to make them content. which gets at the very function of sports, right. this arena of heightened emotion that you can project all your everyday worries and fears onto, a form of escape and also of release. artificial competition, in truth meaningless but the feelings are still plenty real. the very process of being a fan of someone involves a form of projection. you see what you want to see, you respond to the traits you want to respond to - and in the end, you form a one-sided bond that you get something out of emotionally speaking. the public persona and the athlete and the competitor and the character and the person... there is some overlap here, but it is far from absolute. if anything, the person is the least relevant. who cares about the contents of their hearts? this is not about loving an individual, but instead loving what the individual/team represents to you

and in that spirit, let's return to how I framed anthy's narrative role above. this object of projection, yes - but also this plot device to tease out hidden truths within the other characters, to allow them to reveal the worst of themselves. anthy draws out all this resentment and rage and then concentrates it upon herself. now obviously, valentino functions a little differently - he is not getting the masses to hate him. quite the opposite... the shared thread is in drawing out extreme emotions, in how he can become an idea in people's minds more than a person. which is where we get to the most pertinent other 'characters' in valentino's tale - his rivals, who themselves are on their own narrative arcs within the sport. who bring an awful lot of themselves into this rivalry, to an extent that sometimes feels like it's being missed when valentino's feuds are being discussed. what makes valentino so narratively useful is his malleability, how many different versions of him have existed across his career... the fact that he likes to vary his appearance fairly drastically provides a bit of a convenient navigational guide. a way of expressing himself that varies over the years and points to his self-perception as well as the role he will now fulfil. different rivals will have come across entirely different versions, each suited to whichever particular moment of valentino's career he found himself at... in some ways, what's most fun about valentino is that... as much as he is a person, in the context of the sport he is also a plot device, this surefire way of generating narrative tension that is really pretty unique. he's basically a way of putting guys into Situations, right. it's such a great idea for a sport to just have someone around to consistently put guys into Situations

and what that involves is rivals who are also pouring quite a lot of themselves into these rivalries... oftentimes they see in valentino what they want to see, or what they need to see, in a way that is only tangentially connected to 'reality'. here, it is jorge who is kind enough to provide us the parodic extreme, with his biography littered with film references and comparisons to other sports that all provide the road map for understanding his view of the world in the late noughties - less in the specifics of any particular inspiration he cites, but more in what it tells us about how he is processing events. valentino very obviously has a designated role here, this established legend of the sport who jorge can learn from and measure himself against and eventually conquer. the emphasis is very much on honourable combat and mutual respect - albeit with jorge's flair for the dramatic, this prior understanding that rivalries are supposed to get a bit ugly. jorge during the first half of that particular rivalry is on his own little coming-of-age arc that has markedly little to do with valentino the person. jorge talks of wanting to make himself a 'character' like that of valentino's, he desires the love of the public... his disillusionment comes when he realises that his end goal might not be particularly achievable. championships, yes - but the kind of affection valentino inspires? not a chance

instead of adoration, he is faced with widespread contempt and hatred, often at the hands of valentino's fans. it is a realisation the creeps up on him just as he wins his first championship... given the timing of motegi, you could say he is being forced to come to grips with this at the precise moment when he seals the title. valentino hardly shies away from adding fuel to the fire in that 2010 season, unimpressed by jorge's ill-advised gesture with the shirt at mugello - so painfully jorge in a way that was never going to work out for him - and later provoking him at motegi in the heat of battle. this is not valentino attempting to win over the masses. he knows their support is baked-in. often, he does not have to do his own dirty work where mind games and such are concerned... the media can generally be trusted to harm his opponents more than they do him, without much intervention on his part. valentino is far from a passive agent in this feud, but he can allow himself to be more restrained than sometimes appears. their rivalry in 2008-10 does much to change jorge, but valentino is left entirely unaffected

sullen biaggi courting a woman called valentina in a sequence that would make freud wince - unable to find joy while valentino tortured him. image-conscious sete priding himself on the respectful rivalry right until the moment where valentino laid bare the ugliness beneath. tormented casey, finding in valentino echoes of all his neuroses and more besides. brash jorge, who had already assigned valentino a role from the start, before finding that valentino might be possible to beat but impossible to imitate. and the brave marc, so keen to take his place at his idol's side in the pantheon he forgot to consider what fighting him for real might look like. valentino represents something completely different to each of them... it is remarkable in its own right that all three of sete, casey, and marc were so completely blindsided by any enmity developing in the rivalry. sete, who thought himself different from biaggi, casey, who thought himself different from biaggi and sete - marc, who thought himself different from all of them. sete befriended valentino, whereas all three of casey, jorge and marc idolised him at one point or another. each was eventually surprised by valentino in some way... for each of them, valentino was the single most influential rival in changing them as people. in their character arc, if you will

obviously, when you talk about projection, you do have to pay special attention to casey. who was really working overtime on the projection front. the casey/valentino rivalry isn't quite as interpersonally convoluted as valentino's rivalries with sete and marc, doesn't quite have the comedic flair of the jorge feud - but I'd wager that in terms of thematic richness, it comes out on top. a lot of the heavy lifting is done here on the casey side of the equation, given that valentino is more or less a static character in this rivalry. he is more casey's foil than vice versa. he is a plot device to provide us a thorough vivisection of casey's character. how much you enjoy this rivalry will ultimately depend on how interested you are in casey as a person, which *stares into the middle distance* does feel like a pretty niche area. obviously, this thematic richness makes it extremely utena-able, as has been previously discussed in this parish. it is the rivalry that has by far the best colour-coding, which - shush, this matters to me. and crucially casey has been so kind as to ensure that it matters... by giving us the key insight into his psyche that 'things being too yellow' is a thought that has existed in his brain. casey is hot-headed, defiant, wildly talented - valentino is calculating, cunning, and relies on those traits more than any other to get the edge over casey. talent vs ambition, if you will

what makes casey so utena-able, right, is that a lot of his sturm and drang essentially relates to the job description of being a rider. it's his role that he's chafing at, the elements relating to politics and public performance and all the rest of it. he has to make his peace with this role to some extent - and then he walks away entirely (achieves revolution, if you will). though entirely is maybe overstating things... after all, he hasn't completely shut himself off from this world. he still gives interviews, he has opinions, he sells his side of the story. he's not suddenly un-learnt the lessons from his time in the sport. there's a certain level of media consciousness, an ability to play the game, that clearly distinguishes him from his teenage self. he's grown up. casey's story is always in conversation with that role of entertainer, where he rejects it and struggles with it and begrudgingly accepts it. and while casey might not yearn to be loved, exactly, he does want to be appreciated. he wants to be praised. he wants to be understood

"we [jorge and I] both can be misinterpreted because of how we appear" // "and I hope to go to dinner with him [valentino], to tell each other, from our point of view, what our challenges have been"

if valentino is the witch, then casey can play the role of one of the aspiring princes - and the amount he manages to project onto valentino could fill a small library. neuroses about being excluded from the club, about being the perpetual outsider, about the system favouring others, about his isolation, about how he cannot treat racing as anything other than serious business, about his feelings of cultural alienation at least partly stemming from his isolation crystalising in a very particular view of the european soul, about not being given enough credit for his talents, about people unfairly judging him, about undeserving success, about being judged as an entertainer not just a rider, about having to sell his story to the press, about being seen as mentally weak, about the idea that he might be broken, about having his physical issues not taken seriously enough, about not being treated with respect, about others bullying him on-track, about others riding dangerously, about being publicly embarrassed... look, I think you get the point - all of these can somehow be found lurking in the rivalry with valentino

the thing about this rivalry is that you sat someone down in 2006 with a detailed psychological profile of casey but zero knowledge of motogp and came up with the brief 'come up with a guy to torture casey', honestly I don't think you could come up with a better concept than valentino. he just nails it on basically every front. as has also been discussed in plenty of detail in this parish, another particularly pernicious element is valentino's interpersonal charm - which works perfectly well to bewitch undersocialised brats in its own right. valentino is this larger-than-life figure within the sport and casey is unfortunately also very taken with him as a person. which, okay, maybe the lesson is to tell valentino to stop being so nice to twenty-year-olds - but broadly how their relationship develops in 2007 is primarily down to casey being a bit of an emotional mess. valentino is basically on neutral mode in how he approaches that rivalry, keeps a little distance as the battle lines are drawn but fundamentally is quite reserved and relaxed about the whole thing. given that he never gets quite as cold towards casey as he has done towards all his other major rivals at one point or another, this leaves casey in a position where he increasingly has to reckon between a perceived mismatch between valentino the person and valentino the character. the way he has dealt with this discrepancy is a combination of a) by verbalising it and implying he never really knew valentino 'as a guy', and b) by retconning how valentino actually behaved towards him over the course of their rivalry. it is quite convenient for casey to say valentino made an enemy of him the moment they became title rivals, that he flipped a switch and decided he wanted to destroy casey. it is also quite probably not true

casey's problem is that he tends to be someone who communicates his grievances in a fairly direct and straightforward fashion; he's not shy about voicing very specific complaints about everything from the media to the circuit officials to his team to other riders to the track to the constellation of clouds. as a result, it's actually pretty noticeable when he does not do this. laguna 2008 is one example where he is perfectly entitled to his general complaint about valentino's conduct - he is, after all, correct in his belief that valentino was willing to do whatever it took to stop casey from winning that race, including crashing them both out - but you do have to wonder why he is so coy about pointing to specific problems with valentino's riding. he flirts with accusations of brake checking, he says the corkscrew overtake was a problem but just one of them (perhaps not even the main one), he says the cameras weren't showing valentino's most questionable moves. which you'd have to say is highly unlikely. and we do actually know what casey does when he has what he believes to be a valid and defensible grievance where valentino is concerned - look at jerez 2011 and how he has beat that particular horse so often its bones are now thoroughly reduced to dust. this was caught on cameras and casey is in no way shy of referring back to specific details, most infamously the helmet valentino was wearing. we also know that casey is perfectly willing to engage with specific media utterances where valentino is concerned. exhibit A is how he never forgave valentino's crew chief jb for making it sound like the ducati could be fixed with some set-up changes - a wound that runs deep enough it made it to casey's autobiography. exhibit B is... well, any number of petty incidents over the course of 2011-12, including a particularly stupid one where an italian magazine reused some old valentino interview from somewhere to make it sound like valentino had attacked casey in late 2012, which casey then got snarky about on twitter (not the high point of that rivalry on any level)

given all that, you do start to wonder when exactly valentino supposedly became such a sore loser during 2007. now, what casey most likely actually means is that he did not appreciate valentino's comments about his struggles with the michelin tyres, and how that was used by certain parts of the media and a lot of fans to suggest that casey's wins were any less worthy. which of course is unfair and unpleasant for casey to have to deal with... but once you notice the vagueness, you do start to wonder why he is so restrained in issuing any more specific complaints. in an odd way, casey can actually bank on valentino's own reputation here - even by this point, valentino obviously had a bit of a reputation for being quite ruthless with his rivals. which means that you've got this situation where journalists are reporting on what casey is saying about valentino, without actually including any specific examples of what he could be referring to. let's be blunt here - I have found a lot of quotes of valentino in that 2007 to early 2008 stretch give full credit to casey for riding very well, and no evidence of anything that should have attracted this level of remonstrance from casey. that doesn't mean valentino hasn't said anything... it is obviously way harder to be definitive about this kind of thing the further back in time you go and there probably will be something he said at some point to some italian reporter that somehow made its way back to casey. but also... so what. if valentino said something mildly snarky about the guy who was schooling him to that year's title, then, y'know. whatever. who cares

now obviously casey does care - and he has this fun combination of being reasonably impervious to valentino's mind games on a competitive level (for the most part) while also being extremely ticked off at them. I'm not sure I'm quite convinced by the 'valentino deliberately got the donington crowd to boo casey' story - it rates about at the same level as the 'casey said jorge was faking his injuries' tale as an anecdote by a single reporter with some broadly supportive circumstantial evidence but nothing particularly definitive. (also, in this particular instance, obviously only valentino will truly have known what he was doing - unless he was yelling 'boo casey' at the brits, at best this is all conjecture.) it does feel reasonable to believe valentino did like to weaponise his popularity, make a show of the cheering crowds in a way that was also a touch targeted... the shirt comment at motegi 2007 I could easily easily imagine as something casey was quite sensitive to (perhaps also the reason why he has never brought it up since) - an actual heartfelt gesture that valentino turned into a bit of a joke. failing to shake casey's hand on-track when he sealed the title is... tough to take seriously (perhaps the reason that too has not been mentioned since), likewise the story that casey didn't take kindly to valentino rocking up to casey's home circuit with special livery and leathers. this is... I mean, it's fine, isn't it. usually valentino's tales manage to be way more bonkers than what I'm used to with tennis, but on occasion this is the kind of thing where I wonder if I'm too desensitised. everyone plays some mind games, right

the other more unknowable variable is how their interpersonal relationship developed, whether valentino really had been way warmer with casey before casey was regularly beating him. again, the evidence I can provide with my own eyes sees basically zero difference between early and late 2007 - certainly not in term of tone of parc fermé congratulations, which casey so diligently provided us as a yardstick in his autobiography. yes, the head rubbing rate goes down, but again. this is also broadly to be expected between title rivals. at this stage at least, there really is nothing untoward happening. if valentino is talking less to casey because they are now direct rivals, then... fine. sure. fair enough, really. whatever casey might think, this is perfectly normal behaviour. valentino obviously ends up dramatically escalating the rivalry on the track - and however you feel about valentino's conduct in that race, this is a straightforward case of someone responding to real competitive pressure in a way that ended up working out well for them. just like valentino's choice to switch to casey's tyres - you'd have to say that in pure competitive terms, there really is nothing to fault about valentino's decision-making in this particular instance. you can actually make a pretty compelling case that valentino is never as close to being a rational actor as he is in this rivalry. how he conducts himself in that rivalry, how he handles the interpersonal elements, how he thinks his way through the on-track puzzle... you can clearly trace the logic in each step. it's ruthless, yes, but entirely cold-blooded

so. let's circle back to how valentino is the very worst rival anyone could possibly have cooked up for casey specifically. a lot of that is how a lot of casey's neuroses interact with valentino, how valentino manages to tap into quite deep, half-suppressed feelings of anger, fear, loneliness... it's in how valentino challenges casey both on and off the track, how valentino forces casey to learn some of his tricks if casey wants to be able to compete. and some of it is about how valentino isn't quite as easy for casey to just hate in peace. casey's problem is that in a very theoretical sense, he does like valentino. in another world, he would want to be valentino's friend. casey speedruns his disillusionment because he's a sensitive young guy who needs somebody to tell him that he's doing a good job now and again. unfortunately that person was just never going to be valentino

failing friendship, what casey does instead is project about a million of his issues onto valentino. and what's interesting about this is that it is possible for him to do so. that valentino is malleable enough a character - slippery enough, if you will, that casey can see whatever he needs to see in valentino. that he can piece this together in his mind. in rgu, anthy as a character functions by being so passive that she draws the other characters into projecting their own issues, desires, angst onto anthy... the only certainty is that she will have some kind of an effect on every character. obviously, valentino is far from passive - but you could say that his default charm somehow manages to play out in quite a similar way. he's larger-than-life, his reputation precedes him, he's so many things to so many people. he can be anything to them, if they so choose. if anything, you actually kind of need valentino's charm in this particular setting, considering he's constantly surrounded by repressed loners who need someone to draw them out of their shells a bit. once valentino has worked his charm, all bets are off. it is the extent to which valentino is synonymous with motogp itself that allows casey to see all his myriad issues with the sport reflected back at him. casey believes that valentino is always looking to make an enemy out of his rival - but, ironically, this has never been less true for valentino than it is in his dealings with casey. lonely, tormented casey... he is the only one who could make a rivalry feel like a personal exorcism

here's something to consider: for all that valentino engages with the public far more readily than casey does, there is an argument to be made that casey cares significantly more about what people think of him than valentino does. as said up front, valentino has been so secure in people's adoration for him for so long that it has morphed into a simple fact of life... for better or for worse. incidentally, this is something people get wrong about how valentino approaches the marc rivalry - it does not matter to him if there is controversy, if people hate him for what he said, if marc fans all renounce him... even if common sentiment swings against him. he isn't attempting to persuade. he is fingering a wound and pressing against it for the sake of the pain itself. the love of the people is something he can be assured of until the day he dies - if he is controversial, then so be it. what valentino has always insisted on is the ability to define himself, and he will not accept letting anyone think he feels any differently about marc than he does. generally, he has been far more willing to let others tell the story of the rivalry for him past the conclusion of the rivalry. in sete's case, he mostly opts not to talk about it at all. he has guided the narrative as far as he needed to take it, but no further. this is not a game of persuasion... when casey engages with the public, he is determined to make them understand him better. to the extent that valentino attempted to get the masses to do his bidding, he did so either for the fun of it or as another tool at his disposal. it mattes less what people really think, as long as they can put pressure on his enemies. the crowd is a mob is a weapon

obviously in this particular dynamic, it is casey who gets the unfair brunt of the public's hatred - valentino, for all his transgression, is loved unconditionally. casey is too surly, too whiny, too flat, too withdrawn, too self-critical, too stubborn... he loses the masses before he even understands that he needed to win them. jorge was a long-term student of valentino who had put excessive amounts of thought into how one would go about replicating that sort of character - casey, by contrast, felt that surely when he proved himself in the sport, popularity would follow automatically. for all the joy of 2007, for all that he repeatedly emphasises in his autobiography how happy he was... it probably tells you something that a reasonably sympathetic interviewer described him in early 2008 as an "angry young man" whose mentality was informed by "bitterness and rejection". what happened was this - casey had spent years and years fighting and struggling his way to the top, had been put under unfair amounts of pressure, had suffered and doubted himself and suffered some more... with the expectation that, once he reached the pinnacle, he would have won. finally he would definitively prove how good he was, finally everyone would give him the credit he was owed. casey might not desire the adoration of the masses, exactly - too self-conscious, still the kid who hid in his helmet because he was embarrassed at the idea of anyone cheering him on. but he did want a little of that... certainly to be seen, to be understood. to be respected for what he was and what he could do

in the end, however much he enjoyed his title, the experience of 2007 will have felt like a disappointment. all of casey's prior angst did not suddenly dissipate because of his dominant season. he accomplished everything he always dreamed of accomplishing, and it did not suddenly erase what he had gone through to get there. worse still - the distaste of the viewing public, having just been treated to a close title fight between two of the most popular riders in an all-time great season for racing, in response to the 2007 season was palpable. casey wasn't supposed to be the challenger. he had shown them all for sure, but few pretended like they were particularly happy about that. the establishment, if you will, was not thrilled - valentino wasn't winning, the top american wasn't winning, the top spaniard wasn't winning. the racing was boring. none of this was casey's fault, but he was inevitably going to be the lightning rod for many of these criticisms. and it rankled. "it's been frustrating because everyone said my results were down to other things." "whatever we do we don't get credit." when he talks about feeling bad about getting the prize for young australian of the year over something as unimportant as motorcycle racing, and the interviewer prompts him that he has gotten some credit - "yeah, but so many people in press and paddock just want to put us down"

perhaps this sort of thing is part of what made casey so good, but on a human level you do feel like it would have been better for him to care a little less what the naysayers were saying. there were plenty of people who acknowledged just how good he was - not as many as there should have been, yes, but it was hardly a blanket dismissal. and he wasn't doing his cause any good with this kind of continuous talk - which is unfair, yes, but unfortunately this is a part of the game. not just of motogp, not just of european sports, but of sports full stop... professional sports is nothing without an audience and you cannot stop that audience from emotionally reacting to you. to reiterate, that's the whole point of sports. emotion in excess, released. that does not mean all is fair, that casey's criticisms aren't justified - but on a fundamental level, casey was always going to be disappointed. and, yes. valentino might be a bastard, might deserve plenty of the shit casey slung his way... but he was always going to disappoint casey. it was unavoidable. motogp never gave casey a fair shot. and yet, at the same time, casey's disillusionment was inevitable

rgu is of course a coming-of-age story that is heavily concerned with themes of innocence, of maturity - break the world's shell to achieve revolution. casey and his disillusionment are right at home here... the child who sought eternity, only for eternity to feel less sweet than it was promised. always looking behind him, longing after a half-remembered childhood innocence in a half-remembered land that he never truly got to live at all. an angry young man who never even had a childhood. youth forced prematurely into maturity, who wears it like an ill-fitting glove - jaded and naive at once, a cynic who is still at heart a kid. a revolutionary who barely comprehends what he is revolting against. casey might not fully understand the world he has entered, but he immediately grasps that it is unjust; he mistrusts all systems he comes across, without having any framework to make sense of what he is objecting to. at least his grudge against valentino provides him something to orientate himself. the lessons he begrudgingly learns from valentino in the following years guide him as he goes forward. he has not found the joy and the relief at the pinnacle he was hoping for - but for now, anger and hatred will do just nicely

so then. valentino is projected upon, while casey gets the role of the one loathed by the public. written off before he truly got a chance, blamed even when he is blameless. valentino is the inverse - he is uplifted, he inspires emotions in others as has always been his mission statement... that kind of love comes with its own cost, as valentino is well aware. it is also a love that easily turns ugly when directed at valentino's competitors, of which valentino is again aware. to him, this too is part of the natural landscape of sports... nothing unfamiliar to anyone raised within football culture. both of them are aware of the public's fickle nature; both are prepared to treat the crowd as more of a mob. a lot of rgu concerns societal roles, how baked in they are within every facet of society, how immutable they can feel... valentino and casey are both given their parts to play early enough that almost nothing was ever going to be enough to alter those roles during the course of their careers. each perception of them inevitably has been subjected to this filter - the beloved clown prince versus the moaner. in this, as in quite a few other things, valentino and casey neatly find themselves in opposition. even if, of course, casey ended up having to learn something from valentino in the art of entertainment. casey's role in that particular rivalry is as much as anything else that of the reluctant student - both on and off the track. and casey in all his talent is perhaps valentino's very best student... in valentino, he sees the shadow that he must gradually incorporate into himself - the basest of ideals he must both reject and draw from to survive and mature. a coming-of-age story where casey is forced to transform whether he wants to or not

I've been avoiding just regurgitating stuff I've written in the past, but I do think this paragraph from here is pretty relevant:

and valentino isn’t just a foil in the sense that he provides a striking contrast for casey to define himself against - he is also the agent of transformation who forces casey to learn from him, to grow and change himself, as well as a mirror who can throw into sharp relief elements of casey that might have otherwise gone unnoticed. not to get too jungian here, but the analytical psychologists would say that casey is being forced to confront his shadow self, with valentino quite nicely mapping onto a trickster archetype (junk science but can be fun if you don’t take it too seriously). the unconscious elements of casey’s personality he is not entirely at ease with, these strict codes and rules and standards he subjects both himself and the rest of the world to… valentino both acts as an embodiment of the various injustices casey has experienced throughout his life, a living breathing representation of many of the grievances casey has accumulated - and as this discomforting presence that teaches casey things about human nature, including those parts of himself that had existed within casey’s emotional 'blind spot’. valentino exists in such violent opposition to a lot of casey’s most strongly felt ideals that he not only serves as a conveniently malevolent presence to be projected upon at will, but also as this mechanism by which casey is forced to confront the shadow. it’s all over his descriptions of laguna - “valentino showed who he really was”, “I learned a lot about character, I learned a lot about race craft, I learned a lot about what people were capable of”, “I underestimated what people are capable of just to win a race”… valentino deceives, he manipulates, he tricks - but he also serves the function of revealing what was hidden. and on the one hand, it makes casey recommit to his own values, knowing that he would not have acted like valentino did - “in his place I would have apologised”, “I couldn’t have done that overtaking, if I touched someone and moved them I felt guilty. it was the stupid part of my character, but it was what kept me asleep at night”. but on the other hand, it also prompts a transformation within casey - a “change in mindset”, something that “helped me in the following years”, adopt “a different mentality”, that taught him to “be more selfish with my racing”, to “race for myself”. again: “but, after two years of racing with people who don’t worry about you, I’ve learned that I have to do the same.” “people think it was the turning point of the season, but instead it was the turning point of my career, because from that moment I told myself I wouldn’t worry about thinking about others anymore” - he’s very explicit about this, isn’t he? and of course, most memorably: “what happened between me and valentino at laguna 2008 won’t happen again, or if it does, he’ll get it back tenfold”. for all that acting like valentino did would cause casey sleepless nights, if given a do-over then casey believes he would match and surpass valentino’s brutality. if that’s not being brought in touch with your own shadow I don’t know what is

valentino is everything casey would never want to be and never could have been... and yet by the end of the journey, casey has become a little more like him. valentino is both casey's imagined ideal and his imagined monster. neither of them are entirely true or untrue - but both exist in casey's mind as much to fulfil a certain function for him as they are as an 'objective' truth

and even in the unadulterated adoration valentino receives you will find an element of dehumanisation... valentino captures the emotion of the common person, but he himself becomes a little less human in the process. an idol, a god, a monster... his rivals increasingly were drawn from the pool of his own fans, who brought along with them their own conceptions of valentino before they ever even knew him. jorge studied him endlessly, dissected him with his instructor in the dark art of communication, wrote about him in his columns. there must be something strange about competing against those who have analysed your smile, though valentino by then will have gotten used to that level of inescapable scrutiny. then again, of all valentino's rivals, you could say jorge had the most accurate understanding of what he was signing up for... a happy coincidence, perhaps - some of the things jorge wanted out of the rivalry, valentino was more than willing to give. jorge and the others, they saw what they wanted or needed to in valentino... and valentino has enough faces that they could find something to base that perception on. he had the ability to be all of their foils and play that role brilliantly

it is at this point of the post - safe in the knowledge that not one soul is reading what essentially by now amounts to a private journal which happens to theoretically be available online - that it is time to jump off the deep end. let's talk witchcraft

I recently made a post where I laid out my personal general explanation for how valentino keeps creating these like... narrative nexus events, ridiculously dramatic and memorable races that somehow just manage to completely change the vibe of an entire season, rivalry, etc. that was all very much about what valentino was doing in practise. there's real sporting reasons for why his approach to competition also has this particularly pronounced mental effect on rivals. obviously, that stuff is not really in the spirit of this post - I do quite like the stuff I wrote in terms of elaborating how 'valentino the storyteller' functions, but this time round I really am just talking about vibes

the thing about anthy in rgu is that... okay, I know the whole series is a deconstruction of fairy tales, that it's critically engaging with these assigned roles including that of 'witch', that anthy is constantly suffering throughout the story, that she is a victim of this storybook structure. but I can't help it, I do actually love anthy's version of being a witch. I love when she gets to be mean and torments the student council members, I love what she does with mikage, I love the mystique and the shape her 'powers' take and so on. it's a very compelling portrayal of witchcraft in its own right. a lot of anthy's actual witchcraft is focused around appearances, around illusion, around trickery and deceit and manipulation of the mind. her magic in some way 'protects' dios, yes, she saves him from the brink of death - and she does seem to have some more 'offence-based' ability in providing the sword to whoever possesses the rose bride. but even the sword seems to have little actual power in and of itself - saionji outright says that the power of the sword depends on the wielder. utena has to channel dios herself... which at most is only very loosely connected to anthy. she is the sword's host. beyond that, she dabbles in types of transformation... shapeshifting used to turn nanami into a cow, illusion and memory manipulation to make mikage see her as mamiya, transfiguring her own clothes and embellishing the uniform of the current owner of the rose bride in preparation for the duel. additionally, she seems to have some natural affinity for animals, with chu-chu essentially functioning as the witch's familiar. beyond that are the more subtle ways in which anthy works in conjunction with the setting to warp reality. the strangeness of the school and how she plays into its absurdist logic, the way she seems destined to attract hatred upon herself, how she seems to subtly affect and manipulate those around her... she serves as a mirror for the other characters to see certain elements of themselves reflected back, the blank slate to be projected on... her ability to draw out these traits is not clearly supernatural, but is not not that either

the school itself does a lot of work in slowly breaking down its inhabitants, subjecting them to its absurdist logic and making utena ever more accepting of the bizarre events that surround her. the pitch is one of surreal melodrama - so utena may wonder and scoff at the duels and the mirage castle in episode one, but by episode six she does not even blink at a kangaroo with boxing gloves interrupting her conversation. the school destabilises its inhabitants and removes the foundations of their very understanding of reality. knowing what we do of anthy and akio's influence on proceedings within the school, it feels reasonable to treat it as an artificial environment of sorts... the destabilising elements are not a bug, they are a feature. and, well, in the artificiality of the drama it presents, it does bear some superficial similarity with sports - which is all about artificial stakes. nothing about sports is real... the stakes, certainly for the viewer, are essentially disconnected from their material conditions. there is no rational reason to care about sports. motogp takes this one step further by making the trappings of the sport so patently ridiculous, embracing surreal melodrama all the way. a lot of the sport is absurd, from the body horror elements in how it handles injuries to the complicated network of allegiances and animosities that exists between its most high profile participants to its celebrations. while often scoffed at from the outside, or indeed by podcast hosts, motogp's over-the-top silly staged celebrations are part of the sport now, indelibly so. a frequently cited reason for why these celebrations are so unpalatable is in their very artificiality, the theatricality supposedly sapping away the 'true' emotions of the moment - they are accused of inauthenticity. but the inauthenticity... is the point. this is a show. it is theatre. it is entertainment. none of it is 'real'. you can resent your attention being drawn to the props or you can embrace the absurdity. you were always watching a stage

and of course, this is in large part valentino's doing. his fingerprints are all over the sport, but this remains one of his most noticeable impacts... having a bit of a laff as a teenager in the nineties, and now all these years later we've got terminator reenactments that baffle any outsider to the sport. a lot of the traditions of any sport will organically develop over time - but to those baffled outsiders, you would have to explain that this can all essentially be traced back the influence of a single person. valentino was all show, all theatre, all the time. his gift was in making the emotions so earnest that the artificiality got lost in the mix... again, without the emotions, none of this works. valentino's witchcraft is aesthetic as much as anything else - an affinity for illusions and mirages that allowed him to repeatedly take control of the situation. look at how he used his celebrations... in quite straightforwardly practical terms, they were very much part of his arsenal, a manner in which he could psychologically bludgeon the opposition. a way to make the defeat sting more for the opponent, a way of defusing his own past errors, a way of ensuring he alone had possession of the limelight. defeating his opponents by strangling them of oxygen. he has made this level of theatricality more or less the norm within the sport, a mode of engagement that suits him better than anyone else. and look at what he did to his rivals... he drew them into his web, forced them to join him in a world where cursing one of his rivals became an accepted, established sporting narrative. be wary of taking on valentino - he can break his opponents. he will put you under pressure until you crack. and everyone watching is waiting for that moment... if you slip, even just for a moment, everyone might just decide to believe he has worked his black magic on you

when valentino places his curse on sete, what he is essentially doing is putting him back in his place. sete had been his friend before he was his rival, someone who had trained with him and advised him how to transition to the premier class and had spent holidays with him. and then he became the challenger valentino never should have had. not the ultra-talented wunderkind who set the sport alight with their irrefutable natural skill - no, instead valentino faced an unexpected contender... one who had suddenly emerged on the scene when already a little older and a little wiser. the message valentino received from the press was crystal clear on this front - valentino should not be losing to this man. sete should have been beneath valentino. every defeat was a humiliation, one that called into question valentino's own grit and resolve. why is it that so much of the discourse in that early 2003 season was so concerned with why valentino was faltering, rather than paying credit to the man who was actually beating him? sete was at best a feel-good story... but feel-good stories do not make for worthy challengers. if valentino's later rivalries reflected well on him by allowing him to take on and best the new great hopes of the sport, this rivalry felt for a while like it could only do harm to valentino. sete had risen above his station... affluent and well-connected outside of the sport, born to a prominent family and afforded a good education - within the artificial confines of motorcycling competition he was far beneath valentino in the pecking order. he had become better than he was supposed to have been, he had defied those who had already written the narrative of his career, and he had imposed himself where he had no right to be

is it any surprise, then, that these defeats particularly grated for valentino? why is it that he looks quite so miserable at sachsenring 2003, in a way he does not after any of his other premier class defeats? it was sete specifically he could not stand losing to - in part because he had been told he shouldn't. even pre-qatar 2004, valentino is preemptively gloating at the chance to separate himself once again from sete. "a return to reality that is difficult to accept" he says of sete's dwindling title hopes during the motegi weekend... sete had had the audacity to seriously believe he might be a title contender, and for that valentino is going to punish him. after the events of qatar, all bets are off. while his comment that he was looking for an "excuse" not to talk to sete were made in anger and should perhaps not be taken completely literally, while he does most likely have a genuine grievance when it comes to the events of qatar... once valentino is given his excuse, he can fully devote himself to the task of destroying sete. what he is doing, in essence, is reimposing the status quo of the sport. here stand the talented - over there are their lesser peers... sete had already been assigned a role to play, had rejected the narrative he had been told was his own - but now, the narrative comes crashing back in with a vengeance. the story punishes him brutally for ever believing that he was something he was not. and in the worst indignity of them all, it has since sought to erase him from the tale entirely. valentino's authorial hand once again makes itself known - he, more than anyone else, is enforcing this erasure - but obviously it is worth questioning why everyone else has been so willing to go along with this. they were there, they saw all of this unfold, they at least should know valentino was in genuine jeopardy... the most myopic, miserly, miserable conclusion to draw is that valentino was never truly competitively threatened, that with full benefit of hindsight he was simply never going to lose to one who occupied such an inferior position in the hierarchy that sports logic follows. as depressing as this would be, perhaps it is the correct conclusion to draw. who knows

either way, valentino gets his will. jerez 2005 is when he strikes his fatal blow - and it is the moment he completes the punishment of his friend. again, this is reimposing the status quo... it serves as a cruel reminder to sete that he has nothing but defeat coming his way, that he is nothing. the last corner lunge in all its desperation serves to remind sete that valentino will stop at nothing to beat him. valentino would rather crash them both out than see sete win another race. and having the full weight of valentino's ire directed at you tends not to be a pleasant experience. from mid-2003 to 2005, valentino continually reconstituted the reality of the sport... rewriting the rules as he saw fit, deserting the dominant manufacturer on a whim and winning with his new project. deserting his friendship with sete on a whim and changing that story too. but for all these superficial adjustments, there were some laws of sport he was never going to touch. he enforces some of its cruellest edicts in his revenge against sete, destroying sete because he can and retroactively ensuring that sete's existing achievements would not get the respect they deserve. even in his own mind, perhaps most importantly there, valentino has been able to dismiss sete. this is his vengeance... pressure, pressure, pressure, exerted ever more expertly and more viciously off the track and on it to terminally crack sete's confidence. sports is all in the head and valentino ensured that sete would be trapped in his own. at its worst, competing can be a living nightmare. valentino did his best to become monster to the man who had once been his friend

here is the fun in having a witch around, then - this character who subtly exerts control on those around them to torment them. a voice in your head while you are riding, reminding you of the last time you made a mistake. the invisible hand that forces your errors. gags about your rival making dolls of you, carried around to stick pins into. the pernicious ill luck you face, so inescapable that surely it cannot just be coincidence... a malicious influence hanging around the edges of perception, doing the bidding of a witch. and what valentino does to sete benefits him beyond the end of that rivalry by providing him with a reputation of someone who does not just beat opponents, but breaks them. it is a reputation that did much of the legwork for him in his rivalry against casey, generally minimising how much work he had to do himself. little use in going around all day talking about how you might have broken another rival if somebody else is willing to do that for you, right. given casey's own specific neuroses, obviously this just happened to be basically the worst possible torment anyone could have cooked up for him - which was just happy coincidence, albeit of the sort valentino saw an awful lot of over the course of his career. the post-laguna stretch was so horrendous for casey precisely because it appeared to prove everyone's suspicions... which of course to some extent can become a self-fulfilling prophecy. everyone thinking you are broken is more likely to break you. a common trick in the charlatan's repertoire - let the mark prove the magic for you

so there we have the confines of valentino's witchcraft. a certain stylistic sensibility... flash and glamour, the sport's aesthetic ever more loud and colourful. positioning himself as the showman as well as the authorial hand, capable of writing his own fairy tale. an ability to reinvent himself, new eras demarcated with shifts in his own appearance as well as approach. a keen and savvy operator when dealing with the media, happy to slip them a line and waiting for it to bite his opponents. a weaponisation of his persona as the showman, most obviously in his celebrations. a reputation that does much of his work for him. a public that treats him like an idol and a god - surrounded by people who wilfully project onto him. he transforms and he manipulates and he deceives; he tricks his rivals into conversing with a mirage, then punishes them for their folly. slippery and hard to pin down and many things to many people... the sport is always watching you, so you had better watch it back

the only rival who ever truly proved capable of beating valentino at his own game was casey - as ever, the best student of the lot. while casey's evolution into a savvy media operator in his own right is interesting, as is valentino's complete and utter disinterest in countering the narrative casey repeatedly has set out in the press, there is a far more obvious moment in which casey's willingness to twist valentino's tools against their maker pays off. it is the moment casey continues to refer back to as often as he can - jerez 2011, when he immortalised a racing incident forevermore with his pithy retort to valentino's apology. casey understands the power of that line and that moment as well as anyone, which is of course why he will never stop talking about it... in some ways, the scene echoes laguna 2008, their other most infamous confrontation. first off, the line itself - "ambition outweighed your talent" quite obviously resembles "let his ambition to win take control over his technique", something casey accused valentino of in the aftermath of laguna. this distinction between ambition and talent, will and skill, mentality and ability... it is a continual theme in the rivalry, reflected both in what they themselves say and what others have written about it. casey calls valentino smart, valentino calls casey talented. they both question whether the other might not be a little lacking in the other dimension. the other key similarity is in how valentino has deliberately ensured casey's comments will be recorded - at laguna 2008, he interrupts casey's tv interview so that camera and microphone will capture him refuse valentino's handshake; at jerez 2011, he is accompanied by cameras to give casey his apology. back then, casey had been operating from a position of weakness, incapable of controlling his temper and biding his time. in the short term, jerez 2011 earns him a fair amount of backlash - but it does not matter. casey has waited for years to get his revenge and valentino's move to ducati would deny him the chance to do so on-track, which casey may secretly have regretted... this would have to be the next best thing. casey perfectly understood the importance of that image and managed to inflict a rare defeat on valentino in his own arena. integrating the shadow within himself, right... he did it on the track, and off it. if valentino is a god within the sport, then casey surely has his own place within the pantheon (x)

he is riding like a devil and is always at the front // he is very, very strong, very young - a great talent who rides without many problems. he is riding like a god! // today he rode like a god and he's a fantastic rival // he rode like a devil so he deserved the championship and he's number one // he rode like a devil and he made great results last year with nothing to lose and he raced all or nothing

valentino is the god of motogp, at times explicitly referred to as such, and casey is the heretic who dares to challenge him and even dares to win. who is resented by many for his accomplishments, all while failing to be quite what the motogp world wants him to be. casey is denying valentino [...] isn’t it just FUN when we’re talking rivalries and narrative foils and all the rest of it to have valentino come along, this bloke who is seen as a god by much of the world of motogp - to have him essentially anoint casey to the pantheon himself in the way he describes casey. 'rarely guilty of making an understatement’ is fair, perhaps, but valentino doesn’t generally talk about his rivals like this. it’s a casey thing! that’s why they’re such great rivals and foils, right - casey’s talent versus valentino’s ambition, this lovely dramatic contrast between two blokes who are so strikingly similar on some dimensions and violently different on others. truly two of the best to ever do it

valentino's last trick is ensuring that he is so difficult to defeat - not just as a rider, but in the totality of his persona - that any attempt to do so will inevitably burn his enemy. none of his major rivals have emerged entirely unscathed from the experience of competing against him. some are quite possibly scarred for life. valentino is the master of the pyrrhic victory... it is possible to beat him, to burn the witch and perhaps even surpass him, but valentino ensures there will always be a bittersweet quality. corrosive like the sun

once he has exhausted all his tricks and burned all his bridges, there is no going back for anyone. all this self-mythologisation and mythologisation by others can just about manage to promote him to true mythical status within this artificial world, a world partly of his own design... and as long as this world constitutes the whole world of his rivals too, they can never entirely escape him. casey, with his complex relationship with the entire sport, all his well-documented complaints and grudges and bitterness, is of course the easiest example of this. he sees valentino in so much, the sport is linked so closely to valentino in his mind - and thus valentino is ensured further immortality as casey's shadow. which is something valentino has done with all his rivals... all of their legacies, tied inextricably with his own. a sport you dedicated your life to that still at times feels synonymous with a man you despise

which feels like a good place to wrap this up. as much fun as valentino-the-person can be to engage with, sometimes valentino-the-plot-device is just as much fun, if not more so. the narrative role of the witch is to trick and manipulate reality on the one hand - but on the other it is to reveal what is hidden. to tease out truths and buried emotions from all those around them. valentino perfectly fulfils the role of the entertainer within his sport, ramping up the inauthenticity and artificiality to allow for a true emotional excess - while also being a changeable enough slippery enough character to allow him to fulfil so many different functions over the years. upstart, challenger, king, comeback kid, underdog, fading titan, mentor... he can be any of these and all of these and none of these. his popularity is so enduring and non-questionable that it allows him liberty in some regards, the freedom to transgress in some arenas... the gaze of all the eyes of the world on him might serve to rob him of his personhood, just a little, but obviously it also represents a gift and a strength. there's something just conceptually fun about having a figure capable of bringing out the worst of those around them, revealing their flaws as surely as he does his own, acting as a nailed-on source of narrative tension. one who is dehumanised by the many eyes directed upon him at all times, but twists this in his own favour... one who uses trickery and cons and curses to enact his vengeance. it's quite the feat to be loved as a witch, you do have to say

***

obviously this whole thing was quite a... long and perhaps not particularly coherent examination of just some stuff that's been rattling in my head. as much as sports is fun to discuss as sports, sometimes it's also fun to go full-in on the narrative elements! anyway. I doubt anyone will get this far and this kind of thing generally doesn't leave my notes/brain but. I had fun with it :)