#This is my longest time on a single art piece ever

[roo-was-here-art]

This took too long

Espen D. Akuji, circa canonical 2016

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Thank you all for an incredible 500 days of love and support. I offer you: answers to questions that no one has asked.

(As always, more can be found in the tags <3)

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Flufftober Day 14 | My favorite piece of art

Pairing | Avenger!Best friend!Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Best friend!Fem!Reader

Word count | ~ 780 words

Summary You've been trying to get Bucky to model for you for the longest time. When he finally agrees, you decide to go all out and make a beautiful painting of him to highlight everything you love about him. When he sees the end result, he can't help but joke about it, but deep inside, he's very moved and touched that you did this for him.

Warning(s) None.

A/n This one shot is written for day 14 of my Flufftober 2023 Challenge! I want to give my undying love, thanks, and firstborn child to @ccbsrmsf1 for proofreading this on such short, SHORT notice. You're an angel, and I appreciate you more than you know. 🧡

Events Flufftober 2023 | 14. ''I hate it'' - ''No you don't'' | @flufftober

Banners: @vase-of-lilies | Divider: @firefly-graphics | GIF credit: the owner

Main Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Drawing and painting have been your passion ever since you were a kid, and before you were on the path of becoming an Avenger, you were supposed to go to art school to live your dream.

Now, it is something you enjoy doing between missions in your downtime, and because of this, you have found a great friend in Steve. You two often chat about new supplies you got, or you give each other inspiration, and it's something you two have bonded over.

What you didn't expect, however, is that you would become the best of friends with Bucky. He was permanently closed off and didn't let anyone in besides Steve.

But when he joined the Avengers after you, you were constantly paired on missions together, and one thing led to another.

Right now, you are trying to convince your best friend to sit and model for a painting because you've been dying to put his beautiful features on a canvas.

''C'mon, it won't take long! Just one afternoon, and then it's finished. You would help me out if you did it! Pleeeeeaaaaaseeeee?' you said with the most prominent puppy eyes you can muster.

Bucky has always had a soft spot for you, and of course, the man can't say no to you. He's not made of stone, after all.

''Alright, but it'll stay between us! I don't want to see it anywhere other than your studio,'' he says with a sigh, and you pull him into a big hug while you squeal excitedly.

''Thank you, thank you, thank you!'' you say, excitement dripping from your voice. You quickly let him go to find Steve so you can tell him the good news.

A few days later, you're in your shared studio, which is basically at the top of the Avengers tower, which Tony gracefully lets you and Steve use for all your artsy needs.

Bucky sits on the couch, clad in black jeans, a tight black t-shirt, and boots. His Vibranium arm glistens beautifully in the sunlight as it falls right onto it, making it almost look glowing.

Between painting, you and Bucky talk about everything and nothing, and you keep looking at him to ensure every single line, feature, and shadow is laid down correctly.

All in all, it takes you about 5 hours, but you're thrilled with the result so far. But he's sitting too far away for you to get the details of his arm right.

''Bucky? Could you come and sit next to me for a little bit? I want to make sure I get everything correct,'' you say, and with a groan, he gets up, stretching out his muscles after sitting in the same position for so long.

You have gotten your gold paint out, and all you need to do now is replicate the intricate pattern laid out all over the Vibranium.

''Wow…'' he says softly as he sits on a chair next to you, deeply impressed with your work so far.

''All I need now is to replicate the golden pattern on your arm, and after you're all done!'' you say with a smile, but Bucky can't stop looking at himself on the canvas.

You captured every little detail of him and made him look angelic despite the dark colors you used for most of the painting.

''So? Can I see it?'' you say softly, and his head shoots to you before he finally realizes what you're asking of him. He extends his metal limb, and you look it over a few times before replicating it.

From every single line on his fingers to the more significant lines on his arm, nothing escapes your skilled eye, and with the precision you would expect from a trained assassin like yourself, you finish it.

''All done!'' you say with a big smile, and you turn to Bucky to see his reaction to the painting; he's trying to fight back a few tears because he is so moved by it.

''What do you think?'' you ask as you grab his Vibranium hand, rubbing his knuckles softly with your thumb. You're not sure if he can feel it, but you often like to do it just in case he can.

''I hate it!'' he jokes, a teasing laugh coming from his body.

''No, you don't!'' you tell him, and Bucky shakes his head. He couldn't hate it even if he wanted to. You have captured him perfectly; for a moment, he doesn't see his past.

He sees the man he has become after all his hard work; he sees himself through your eyes. He sees the man he has always wanted to be and couldn't be happier.

[darkestspring]

i wanted darkness, i wanted him.

summary: once he had laid his eyes on the lady tyrell, how could he ever want for another? You melted his heart, so now you must take responsibility for it. you will be embedded in his bones for all eternity.

word count: a little over 3.4k words. my longest piece!

a/n: alright second attempt at writing this! this has been a work in progress for a while and i’m finally going to finish it! this is more or less a greek gods au with hades! aemond and persephone! tyrell reader. this has been such a fun project, im obsessed with greek mythology so! i recommend listening to persephone by tamino to set the mood, its what i listened to writing this. just a reminder, my requests are still open

warnings: aemond gets a little bit obsessive, slight yandere themes.

taglist: @gulnarsultan​ @dehnablume (would not let me tag!), @azaleapotterblack (would not let me tag either), @jiminie-08​, @weepingwitchofthewest​

You had never been outside of highgarden, even as you were now nine and ten name days. It was your duty to stay there and tend to the plants, you had convinced yourself. Maybe you were just scared of what the outside world had to offer.

You despised cocky lords and entitled ladies, you were content here as you tended to your prized garden, you were content to keep your mother and your handmaiden, Arisa, company. Your mother kept you close regardless, sending away men and curious ladies from your company.

You stared down at the blooming flowers with a smile on your face as you watered them. “Grow strong and healthy.” You whispered to them gently.

“My, my. The goddess of spring strikes again.” Your mother teased you, taking the water canister from your hands as you pouted at her, turning away.

It was a silly name, ‘the goddess of spring’, they had even given you a nickname.

Kore. A nickname meaning maiden. A innocent maiden always with her duties and her flowers. In charge of bringing spring to highgarden. It was silly.

“Do not say that, mother.” You remained turned away, conflict haunting you. You didn’t wish to remain Kore forever, you wished to be more. “It is my duty, you have told me many times.”

“What you do is a work of art, my flower.” Your mother spoke softly, hand cupping your cheek as she smiled at you adoringly. “But it is not highgarden that needs you at the moment.” She sounded displeased at that. “I must leave to King’s Landing in the morrow, you are to come with me.”

Your eyes glimmered with curiosity that your mother refused to sate. Why were you coming with her? Why now? What could there be for you?

You were so excited that you could not find it in yourself to sleep. Was the capital as beautiful as highgarden? You dreaded the people that resided there. What if the queen and the princess hated you? Your mother had seemed displeased.

She was displeased, she was very displeased and irritated. She could not refused her cousin, Queen Alicent’s request to meet you but her daughter? Her daughter who brought spring with a brush of her fingertips? Hades resided there, as her son.

Hades is what they called Prince Aemond, rumors spread of how he spread death as easily as he breathed. His dragon, the ancient vhagar, had been responsible for many deaths. He was called the god of the dead, in contrast to her beloved daughter’s goddess of spring title.

Morning had not come easily and both ladies had not slept a single wink, finding easy sleep in the carriage they took, not that either knew.

King’s Landing was pretty, you thought but lacking true beauty. The same beauty you found in flowers and the fruits that grew all around you.

“Cousin.” Queen Alicent had greeted Lady Tyrell with a big smile, her hands linked together. She had never been close with her cousin as she was always here but they needed support more than ever. Alicent was determined to succeed above all foes.

Lady Tyrell did not outwardly react, she only bowed deeply to her cousin, shielding you from view. Prince Aemond wasn’t there, that was one big relief to her. “My Queen.” She greeted, reaching behind to reveal her daughter. “At your request, I brought my daughter.” Her voice made her displeasure noticeable.

Alicent was enamored by you immediately upon seeing you. Your hair was decorated with flowers. You were a soft looking girl. Perfect for her Aemond, he needed soft but her cousin would never allow this, she would have to go over everyone else.

You curtsied lowly for the queen, too nervous to even look at her for fear of messing up as you tucked a strand of dark hair behind your ear. “I am pleased to greet the queen.”

Your voice was even soft, almost melodic. You were a true lady, what a maiden should be.

Her cousin’s long staring irritated the Lady Tyrell who cleared her throat, her hand resting on her daughter’s back. “Will her majesty excuse my daughter, she need not be present for our discussion.”

Alicent knew that if she wanted to, she could have commanded the young tyrell to stay but she needed time to plan, so she agreed with a smile. “There is a beautiful harden here. I am sure you’ll enjoy it.” She smiled at you sweetly and you took that as your queue.

“Wait for me there, my sweet.” Your mother brushed hair from your fade before walking away with Alicent.

You wandered for a while, almost lost before you came upon flowers. It was wonderful. Flowers, and threes and shrubbery. Fruits and greenery. It was peaceful.

You choose a spot under a tree after you had finished gathering flowers and sat so that you could work on making flower crowns.

It had been another exhausting day for Prince Aemond. More training, more studying, more running after his idiotic older brother to ensure that he did not dishonor their mother or sister. All he wished was to for once to have to clean up the messes his older brother made.

He had been walking past the gardens to seek solitude in his private study before a soft voice caught his attention.

He had met many ladies, and yet none had caught his attention this quickly. It was his duty to marry but none dares to approach, the rumors of his nickname the courts gave him spread far and wide.

“-If I could begin to do something that does right by you, I would do about anything, I would even learn how to love.” Your voice rang out softly, your soft pink dress flowing around you as you weaved flowers together absentmindedly.

Aemond had never seen anyone like you. None of the ladies could compare to how you look before his eye. You were like the flowers that existed around you, soft, sweet, beautiful.

Aemond stood there, stunned, as he watched you with a feeling akin to the one he felt with vhagar filling him. Exhilaration, pride, possessiveness. He wanted to hear your voice forever, he wanted to see your eyes on him, he wanted for you to be as obsessed with him as he already was with you.

A twig snapped under his foot and your head snapped over to the sound as a single purple eye connected with warm hazel ones.

You stared at him like a startled deer before you scrambled up, dropping the half finished flower crown as you hid behind the giant apple tree. You held a hand to your chest as your heart raced

Aemond couldn’t help but find you adorable but he quickly tried to calm you down. “I am sorry, I startled you.” His voice was deep as he tried to restrain his excitement. He had found you, the girl he wanted to make his wife. His father had been making a fuss for him to be married, this would solve all problems would it not? “I’m-” he couldn’t tell you his name just yet, not until everything was final. “I’m Hades.”

You peered out from behind the tree to gaze at him with caution. Hades, that name sounded familiar. “I’m Kore.” You had refrained from giving your name out of embarrassment. Your mother would surely scold you if she knew the truth.

“I am deeply sorry for startling you, fair maiden.” Aemond hoped he didn’t sound awkward or too excited. Kore did not fit you at all, would not do justice to just how brightly you shined in his eyes.

He cursed Lucerys Velaryon for taking his eye, for keeping him from having two eyes to gaze at you with, to admire your beauty with. You were truly a goddess among mortals, fitting of every title you could possess.

You suddenly felt childish, hiding behind the tree from him, and you moved yourself out from behind it, your hands clasped together in front of him.

Aemond couldn’t help but admire kore with his darkened purple eye. From your hair, dark and luscious, decorated with all kinds of flowers. To your dress, a pale pink that gave Aemond the sense of innocence, something he couldn’t help but wish to ruin, wish to see your reddened face as he kissed and worshipped you as you deserved.

You felt unnerved as he seemed to study you with a look you couldn’t decipher, it made you all the more nervous.

Aemond had come to realize that he had spent too much of his time with you and sought to retreat so that he might ready his request to his father. “I anticipate our next meeting, my lady.”

No, Kore did not suit you at all. Aemond concluded as he walked away and left you to stare after him with a tilted head and flower crown forgotten.

Just as he could not leave your mind, you did not leave his. Aemond thought of you constantly. He knew very little of you but still you managed to capture him in a way no one else had.

You had chosen to not tell your mother of the encounter, knowing how she worried for you with men. You knew she could be a little overbearing but she only meant well, so you kept it to yourself but Hades was carved into your memories.

You found yourself anticipating your next meeting as you remained in the red keep for longer, at the request of the queen. You spent most of your time in the gardens, hopeful of meeting him once again. To your knowledge, he never came.

But then again, Aemond made sure to stay out of sight when he watched you in your peace in the gardens. He couldn’t bring himself to ruin your peace, so he watched you.

Most would call it stalk but he had no ill intent on you, he wished to make you his bride. He wished to bury himself in your bones and always feel the way he did when he was with you. You brought him peace.

That’s why he brought it up to his father and mother. “Please allow me to marry Lady Tyrell’s daughter.” He stood in front of his parents with his request and refused to show his irritation at their shock.

Aemond was not known for enjoying the companies of ladies as Aegon was renown for. Aemond preferred the quiet library and his practices with Ser Cole too much to do other things.

It did not shock Alicent too much, she had hoped that he would take to her cousin’s daughter but where had he met her and why did such darkness exist in his eyes? She brushed it off easily and smiled at her son. “Of course, you may take her as your bride.”

Viserys nodded along with his wife, still sluggish from his medicine as he leaned into his wife. “Yes, it is time for you to have a wife, my son.”

Aemond was satisfied as his wish was granted and he nodded to his mother before stalking away. Lady Tyrell was notorious for her protectiveness over her daughter, if he was to marry the lady he wanted, it must be done quickly and in secret. He won’t allow this wish to be denied.

Aemond, in the middle of making his way to his room, turned the other way to make his way towards the garden where undoubtedly you were. His rage, always just simmering under the surface in him, seemed to calm once he saw you.

“Oh Hades!” You gasped in surprise as you saw him making his way towards you and you smiled at him, holding a finished flower crown in your hands. “We meet again, at last.” You giggled softly, the sound sending his heart soaring.

“Indeed, we do.” Aemond held his hand out for you and you smiled at his once more before placing a hand in his. Aemond lifting your hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it. “I’m honored to see you once more.”

Warmth filled you at his actions and your cheeks turned red. “I’m happy you’re here.” You reached up with your free hand and placed the flower crown on his head. “It’s a perfect fit!”

Aemond blinked in astonishment for a few seconds before letting go of your hand and humming. “It is.” He knows he should have told you of his intent to marry you, to take you as his wife in the way of Valyria, but instead all he said was. “Come take a ride with me on my dragon.”

You had already known he was a targaryen, it was very obvious to everyone who had eyes but you had never seen a dragon before. They both mesmerized and terrified you. “Will it be safe?” You asked him, furrowing your brows.

“You will always be safe with me.” He assured you and you nodded, still filled with caution as you allowed him to take your hand.

The corridors were empty, not a servant in sight. It confused you, you had always seen them. You brushed it off easily as Aemond guided you to a nearby place by the sea, and there laid a dragon.

Aemond whispered to Vhagar quietly in High Valyrian for a few moments before turning back to you and guiding you forwards. He let go of your hand only to guide it along Vhagar’s scales gently.

“It’s.... warm.” You murmured, taken aback by not only the size but also the warmth. “Your dragon is so... beautiful.”

Vhagar seemed to huff out smoke at that and Aemond laughed quietly. “Yes, she is. Come, I’ll help you up.” Aemond helped you climb onto her back and secured you in tightly before situating himself behind you and securing himself. “Vhagar, Soves!” He commanded and a gasp came for you as she launched herself up.

Dragonstone wasn’t far away, a short flight and when Vhagar landed, Aemond was certain his sister and uncle already knew he was there but he didn’t care about them. All he cared about was marrying his lady.

“How do you feel?” He asked as he helped you down from his dragon. Your feet trembled with pain as you landed on the ground.

“It was exhilarating but it was also a little scary being so high up.” You spoke before looking around. “Where are we?”

“Dragonstone.” He answered you, reaching for you hand. “I must admit to you, I have deceived you somewhat.”

You blinked at him before tilting your head at him in confusion. “Deceived me in what?”

“I didn’t just bring you here to sight see, i brought you here with then intention kf marry you.” Aemond looked at you with the slightest bit of guilt. “You haunt my dreams, even awake you never leave my mind. Since our meeting, I have never felt such peace in my life.” Aemond breathes, like he had just lifted a weight from himself. “Please, I beg of you, have mercy on me.”

His confession struck you like no one ever had and she stared at him with a parted mouth as he sunk down on his knees. “Please do not do that.” The words left your mouth before you could stop them as you reached out for him. “If you plead with me in such ways, how am I to resist the temptation of carving my name into your heart so that you may always remember me.”

In all of you memories, you were always alone, or with only three people by your side. You had never been aloowed to see the world outside your home, you had never been able to have friends or even meet other ladies. No one had ever treated you with the kindness that he had. Of course, you thought it was all too fast, too much but had you not craved for this? To stop being Kore, a sweet maiden, the only child of Lord and Lady Tyrell. Had you not wanted him?

“I will always remember you, how could I ever forget a person like you?” Aemond wanted to press himself against you, he wanted to live in your bones, to be one with you, so that he might always bathe in your gaze.

If he always spoke such words to you, how would you ever cease to love him?

The kindness that he spoke to you with was nonexistent as he spoke to the septon, demanding that he wished to marry you. They had agreed to his wishes as he held your hand.

You didn’t wince as he cut your lip gently with dragonglass. The septon guided you on what to write on Aemond’s forehead and you followed with gentleness. Your blood mingled together and you held bloodied hands together.

“One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever.” Aemond murmured to you softly as the ceremony ended with him kissing you, his free hand clasping at your cheek.

Once he pulled away from you, you could identify the look in his eyes. Devotion. Triumph. Darkness.

All your life, maybe this is what you had wanted. Freedom, Darkness, Love. Him.

“Kore never fit you at all, my Persephone.” Aemond had whispered into your hear and you had shivered with delight.

It had been nearly a month after your wedding to Aemond that a letter came addressed to you. It was from your mother, you could tell by the handwriting.

“Darling, what is it?” Aemond sat up from beside you in bed as he sensed your distress.

Three days after the ceremony, you and Aemond had returned to King’s Landing. It had been chaos, Alicent was happy for the both of you but your mother had returned to Highgarden and refused to continue the alliance with the Targaryens and Hightowers until her daughter was returned but you were now married.

“It’s from my mother.” You handed him the letter as you rubbed at your face to lessen your tears. “She had cut off the Hightowers and King’s Landing until I am returned to her.”

Aemond placed the letter on the nightstand before moving closer to you and comforting you. “She will not take my wife from me.” He spoke like a promise as he wrapped his arms around you. “We were up all last night, you need sleep, sweet girl.”

“How can I sleep when things are as they are. My mother believes you kidnapped me and forced me to marry you, she doesn’t know the reality of it.” You frowned at him, pressing your hand to his face, thumb tracing his scar gently. “I have to tell her the truth.”

Bards and Poets have already spun the tale of Aemond forcing his will on you. Persephone’s kidnapping. You grow tired to seeing it. No one knew that you had wanted him too.

“We know the truth, my love.” His words were soft as he closed his eye and leaned into your touch. “We could not live without each other, I went against everyone’s wishes to marry you in Valyrian tradition because I knew your mother would never allow me to have you. You have brought me peace, for that I will never feel guilty.”

Your face was soft as you pondered over how to solve this matter. How to bring peace to everyone involved.

it was a week before your mother came to you as you were sitting in thr same garden you had met Aemond in.

“My sweet girl.” She murmured, tears in her eyes as she hugged you close. “What has that man done to you?”

“Nothing I did not want.” You smiled at her, you were now dressed in black instead of the light colors from before. “Mother, I was not kidnapped by him.”

Your mother did not say anything in return as she sat down, she could tell there was more you wanted to say. She always knew but still, she wanted to cling to you for a little longer.

“I asked him for it. For the blood, for the rust, for the sin. I did not want the pearls that other girls talked about, or the fine marble of palaces, or even the roses in the mouths of servants.” You looked at her with a pleading look, begging her to understand.

“I wanted pomegranates, I wanted darkness, I wanted him.”

You would never regret that.

[swedetastic]

Hi tumblr people. Let me present to you... my Alex Horne/Josh Widdicombe ship manifesto.

(It's basically just a collection of shippy moments, or "evidence")

AKA the ship that nobody asked for but I'm gonna keep captaining the sail boat.

This interview. (It's not that shippy, I just think they're cute.)

Josh being mock-offended, and Alex’s lip bite smile back. 🫠 

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Alex? (@britcomshotsbutmostlyhorne)

Josh becoming one of Greg’s *cough* Alex’s special little boys.

Josh sitting next to Alex during this task, sharing the meal together😊

Popping the balloon near Josh like a schoolyard bully.

Josh using “Alex Horne’s naked body” as a frame of sexual reference (Greg’s words).

(and Alex's reaction)

The blindfolding for no reason. (I mean it was part of the task, but why did Alex have to do it for him?)

The fact that Josh was brought in to do this task in the first place.

The eyebrow raise and “hello, Alex” (really every time Josh says "Hello, Alex")

Singling out Josh’s “nub” 😅

Alex devouring Josh’s mask.

And the fact that Josh made a mask to look like Alex. (Which is hilarious, but also–why?)

Every time they’ve kissed. (that we know of)

🥰

Josh announcing their “incredible chemistry”. Again, for no reason.

This quote:

“He’s good at being enthusiastic. He is like a puppy. As he had the longest gap between series one and doing this, he was the most excited to be back and desperate to do a task. I think he has a ‘never say die’ attitude although he’s probably less good in the creative ones. His big weakness would probably be the hair. It’s just unrealistic.”— Little Alex Horne rating Josh’s Taskmaster: Champion of Champions performance (x)

This task.

And finally, this story. Because it's the sweetest thing ever. 🥹

So yeah I'm writing fic of these two, and I've commissioned two art pieces of them so far. You can see it all here, if you want:

(None of the gifs or anything in this post are mine. Credit to all the original owners!)

[what-is-fanart]

Requim (1976) reimagined as the daedric princes

(From left to right: Barbas, Clavicus Vile, Meridia, Sanguine, Boethiah, Azura, Mephala)

Plus some bonus close ups. I started this drawing in Febuary, it’s now April. I’m literally astonished that I actually did it, and here’s the specs.

NEARLY 22 HOURS. Not to be dramatic but this is single-handedly the most complicated piece of art I’ve ever made. Not only that, but I have never spent this long on a drawing in my life. 8ish hours is like the longest I’ve ever spent on a drawing before this. Thank you to everyone in discord for all the help and encourage,ent!,, and for listening to me whine about it the whole time <3

[tmnt-tychou]

(Thank you to @turtlebros4u for the amazing cover art!)

Please accept my humble and quickly put-together submission for the TMNT Stocking Stuffer challenge. I didn’t think I was going to write something, but I guess I had one in the tank. (People familiar with the New York area, please forgive me if I got any locations wrong. I’ve never been there.)

GN Reader x 4 Turtles (Action and fluff)

@thelaundrybitch @turtle-babe83

A Christmas to Remember

You just wanted all of them to have a nice Christmas. Your very first Christmas with these wonderful, amazing people—turtles—in your life. They were bright, colorful, caring, and it was a shame they were forced to hide below ground, in the dark. Especially around the holidays. You wanted to do something special for them.

Unfortunately, the lively, energetic turtles you had known in the summer turned into slothful, cranky, sleepy reptiles in the winter. With the temperatures dropping as Christmas grew closer, they spent more and more time sleeping. Sometimes over twelve hours at one time. Splinter told you this was normal for them. Turtles experienced a slow down in their metabolism. Not quite a hibernation, but it made them listless. For a regular turtle, this was normal. For a mutant ninja turtle, this looked more like winter depression to you.

They didn't want to do anything. Normally ravenous, they didn't even care to eat as their metabolism slowed. Cuddling up on the couch in a turtle pile and watching movies was about their only speed, and most of the time, they would all be asleep by the end. And they liked Christmas, the idea of it, but when the holiday actually came around, they didn't have the energy for it.

Energy or not, you were determined to give them a Christmas they wouldn't forget. And, bless their hearts, they really tried. They were trying their best for you. You told them you were taking them out so they better be prepared. They got all their sleeping in before you showed up. And when they dressed up to go out, you couldn't help but laugh. They looked like they were venturing out to the deep arctic and not spending a few hours in a New York, Christmas Eve Winter.

Each wore thick boots, pants and patched together coats made from pieces of smaller, human shaped coats. Three-fingered gloves, hats and hoods covered their green skin as much as humanly possible. As if they would die if a single snowflake were to touch them.

And they were equally unenthused about it as if the deep arctic was their destination. You were the main source of positive vibes and happy chatter as all of you made your way to the surface and stole to the New York City rooftops. They did finally start perking up as they took turns carrying you from roof to roof as they ran around and looked at all the lights and festivities the city had to offer.

Nearly two hours in and the last stop on the list was Rockefeller Center where all of you gazed down at the giant tree and watched the ice skaters below. Even from this high up, you could hear the Christmas music pumping up from below.

“You know, I've never seen it in person before,” Raphael said, watching the lights of the massive tree. “It's right at our door and we never bothered to get out.”

“It's so pretty,” Michelangelo marveled.

At either of your sides stood Donatello and Leonardo. They were smiling. No more cranky faces.

“Thanks for making us come out,” Leonardo said. “This was nice.”

You smiled back, absolutely ecstatic that they were having a good time. They were so grumbly at first, you worried they would end up irritated with you by the time they made it back. That you could bring some holiday joy to their very sleepy winter months made you so happy. This was the best present they could ever give you.

They remained here the longest, taking it all in. Soaking up the pureness of a holiday they often slept through. You wandered to each of them, taking in their joy, putting your head on their shoulders and listening to that happy chatter between brothers you had missed from the warmer seasons.

Eventually, the cold got to them again and they decided to call it night. Leonardo had you draped over his shoulder, your arms around his neck as he jumped from one building to another. Not your favorite turtle-involved activity, but you did secretly like being this close to them, feeling their effortless power under you. Your face was always burning hot when they put you down. Even now, it was enough to keep you warm as the chilly wind of their speed stung your face.

Block after block they traveled, heading home. Though warmer below, it was faster to go topside. And it seemed they really did enjoy being outside after sitting in the winter blues for so long. They were running at fine speeds and enjoying the fresh air in their lungs. Then, a bullet whizzed by Donatello's head, nearly grazing his mask.

All four turtles stopped and crouched. Surrounded on all sides on various rooftops were Foot Soldiers. Some with guns, others with swords. As if they had been waiting for you. As if they had watched all of you this whole night and new exactly which direction you would be headed on your way back.

Leonardo tightened his grip on you—mostly on your ass, since that's where his hand rested—as he mentally counted all his opponents. There were too many and they were surrounded on all sides.

“I guess that answers that question about whether the Foot gives you holiday time off,” Donatello quipped.

“Give us a break, guys. It's Christmas!” Michelangelo cried, hands up.

Another shot rang through the night and Raphael jerked back as the bullet grazed his bicep. By now, the Foot knew better. They knew the shells could withstand bullets from most guns. They knew now to aim for the fleshy parts, and the head.

“Raph!” you screamed as he gripped his arm.

Leonardo didn't wait around for a second shot. They couldn't chance taking a stand against that many armed Foot with you there, exposed and vulnerable. He jumped off the building and his brothers followed, rebounding off various fire escapes on his way down.

You screamed and covered your head as the sounds of gunfire echoed in your ears. Your body was jerked around as Leonardo hit the ground and took off running. Daring to glance up, you saw a rain of masked Foot Soldiers falling from the building tops after you. There was a road ahead and Leonardo had no choice but to sprint into the on-coming traffic. The squealing of brakes and tires, the blaring of horns filled your ears as he leaped and jumped from the top of one car and another to make it to the other side. The rest of the brothers ran on either side of you and the bullets kept flying.

Behind you, you saw Donatello stumble and nearly fall, but then continue running with a hand on his thigh. You were shaking, too scared to scream his name. The Foot were going to kill them all and there was nothing you could do to protect them.

Then, Leonardo suddenly slid to a stop in the snow. The brothers found themselves on a pier, only the Hudson River ahead of them. A white layer of ice and snow covered the river, leading out into the darkness.

“There's no way!” Raphael yelled. “We're too heavy. We'll never make it across.”

Michelangelo cried out as a bullet hit him. You ducked as you felt one ping off Leonardo's shell close to your head.

“We have no choice!” Leonardo ordered. His grip on you was bruising, but you felt nothing but fear. “Swift and light, boys. Go!”

They jumped from the pier and ran across the bridge of ice. The Hudson River was a half mile wide and you could hear the crack of the ice as the heavy turtles ran across it. From your vantage point over Leonardo's shoulder, you could see some Foot were following, but others had remained on the pier. Either way, they were getting further and further behind as the turtles ran at full speed. A speed no normal human hoped to match.

The sounds of gunfire became more distant. They were going to make it! And then, a sickening crack echoed in your ears. The slap of ice and wetness. They were only halfway across and the bridge was too thin. The ice gave way and all of you plunged into the dark, gelid water.

It took all of your control not to gasp at the sudden cold as you were pulled under the surface. You had never felt such an intense, bitter, painful chill in all your life. It made you muscles seize and ache, your lungs burn, your brain panic.

Something strong grabbed you and yanked you toward the surface, but all you hit was a heavy chunk of ice, keeping you from live-giving air. You couldn't see a thing in the darkness, only hear the heavy thunk of what you imagined was a strong fist trying to break through the ice. You were running out of air. You needed to breathe.

You must have passed out for a moment, because the next thing you remember was being dragged from the icy water and up the snow-covered riverbank. Raphael had you now, on his hands and knees, heaving as it seemed to take every ounce of his strength to haul both himself and you to safety.

You quickly made a mental count: one, two, three...four. All four brothers were on the bank. Leonardo was next to you, his body visibly shaking from the cold. On the other side of Raphael, Donatello coughed violently in the snow. Michelangelo was a little higher up the bank.

“Dudes, where are we?” he asked with chattering teeth.

“If we made it to the other side...maybe Hoboken?” Donatello ventured to guess.

“New Jersey?” Raphael growled in your ear. “Great, I'm going to die of hypothermia in J-Jersey.”

You could hear all of their teeth chattering from the cold. Yours were, too. Your fingers and toes might as well have been missing. You couldn't feel them at. But, if you focused enough, you could force your shivering limbs to work and you pulled yourself to your feet.

You were the only one.

“Come on, guys, get up. You can't stay here.”

Leonardo was doing his best, but he couldn't get up higher than on his knees. The others seemed incapable of even trying. They were reptiles. The cold slowed them down, shut down their bodies. And they would die out here of exposure just as easily as you would if you all stayed.

You ran to Michelangelo first and tugged on his arm. “Come on, Mikey, get up. You have to get up!”

His arm was slick with blood, though he didn't seem to feel the bullet wound right above his elbow. He was too cold to feel anything.

“I...I don't think I can,” he said weakly.

“Yes you can.” You looked him in the face, determined. “Get your legs under you and get up. Do it for me. Please?”

He smiled weakly, but there was a new resolve in him. “Anything for you, Babe.”

He put his all into it, managing to get up on shaky legs. You quickly pressed yourself against his side to steady him. Both of you were shivering, but you held each other up. You doggedly urged him up the bank, one foot in front of the other. And up the embankment, you saw an old, abandoned building several yards out. It was like a miracle from God.

This renewed both your efforts and the two of you pushed for the building. It had a slide-up entrance big enough for a vehicle to drive through. Michelangelo helped you force it open and then you helped him stumble inside.

Within, there was nothing but a wide-open cement floor and what looked like dusty construction equipment and supplies near the back. No light. Definitely no heat. It wasn't ideal, but it was better than laying in the snow on the riverbank.

You ran back down to the river, falling on your face along the way as your frozen limbs refused to move as well as they used to. You forced yourself back up, caked in snow and slid down the embankment to the remaining turtles. Leonardo had managed to get upright again and was trying to get to Raphael.

You grabbed the leader in blue and pulled him away.

“No, help them first,” he insisted, and then nearly fell back down.

“I'm helping all of you, but you're next,” you insisted. “Come on, I found a place.”

Leonardo grunted as your pulled him along. He hated to be told what to do, but he was in no position to argue. You were the only warm-blooded one among them. You were faring better than the brothers—for now. Your body might give out to the cold eventually, but you were determined to pull as many turtles to safety as you could before that happened. As cold as you were, maybe if you could force yourself to keep moving, you would be okay.

The frigid winter air against your wet clothes was torture. There was no hope of your body warming itself as every bit of body heat was stolen by the breeze. Still, you pressed on as you and Leonardo dragged yourselves to the storage building.

He was barely at the door before you turned and ran back. Running made the cold worse. Your muscles were struggling, as if the line from your brain to your legs were being cut. Your hair was now a solid ice clump on your head. But you forced yourself forward and slid back down the embankment. There, Raphael had managed to get himself to Donatello and they were trying to help each other climb up.

“Get Donnie next,” Raphael told you. “He's hurt.”

You looked to where Donatello was pressing a hand to his thigh, but you didn't see anything. Walking around him, the bullet had pierced the back of his thigh and his pants were darkened in blood.

“At least the river greatly slowed the blood flow, so chances of bleeding out are low,” Donatello managed to say.

“Small favors,” you said with a hopeful smile. “Come on, get up. It's not far.”

Donatello struggled. His long limbs would not cooperate and you both fell down several times trying to get to the building. Leonardo came back out, determined to help and you wanted to yell at him. You were trying to get turtles INTO the building. They were not helping if they were coming back out. Yet, between the two of you, you all managed to stumble inside.

Still one more turtle to go. Your pants had frozen to your legs so much that they made a cracking sound any time you moved. Your feet were in icy puddles in your shoes and your sweater was pretty much a soaked sponge.

With determination, you shrugged off your coat, peeled the soaked, also nearly solid sweater from your body and dropped it to the ground. The coat was more like one of those water resistant ski jackets and didn't retain nearly as much water. You zipped it back on and went back out one more time.

You found Raphael nearly at the top of the bank. Both of you were frosted in white snow, your bodies too cold to melt it.

“Come on, big guy, I've got you,” you said between blue lips as you pulled at him.

He was so much bigger and heavier than you, no amount of pulling on your own would have made a difference. But your shaking form was enough to steady him and the two of you stumbled for the building.

“Look at you, saving our asses,” he mumbled with humor.

“You're saving yourself,” you insisted. “I'm just here for moral support.”

He snorted and the two of you finally made it.

Instantly, you began tugging at their heavy clothes. “Take these off. They're soaked. You're going to freeze to death.”

They were so bloodless and lethargic. Three of them had been shot. Leonardo was the only one who managed to escape any bullets. You had a suspicion it was because his brothers kept him and you in the front while you fled to minimize any possible hits. But you didn't let yourself think about it for long. Your brain was in survival mode. You couldn't sit down and rest or you might not be able to get back up. You had to keep your muscles moving. It was the only way to stay warm.

So you stubbornly kept working, yanking soaked, frozen winter clothes off very cold turtles. As their skin was exposed to the open air, they huddled together to keep warm in a big turtle pile. Which would have been cute in any other situation. They weren't just trying to keep themselves warm. Arms around each other, they tried to warm up their brothers. The scene made you more determined. You had to get them warm. If the Foot found them, they would be sitting ducks.

Grabbing Donatello's pack, you fished around for a flashlight and then went deeper into the building to see if there was anything you could use. Old packs of concrete, some of the bags split open. An out of date fork lift that probably didn't work anymore. There was a whole pile of large tarps. A flimsy insulation, but better than nothing to protect bodies from direct exposure to cold concrete.

And, your saving grace, you found some old wood pallets.

The turtles looked up as you dragged one of the pallets over to them. “Break this into pieces. I'm going to try to build a fire. Anyone pack a lighter?”

*************

You were almost done. You closed the door to keep air out, you got the turtles on their new tarp beds where they now huddled as one giant pile. You managed to get a fire going and now you were nearly done wrapping up the last of the bullet wounds. Luckily, the guys always brought a first aid kit whenever they went out. Unfortunately, there was still a bullet in Donatello's leg and Michelangelo's arm. They would have to wait for removal.

With the last of your energy, you dragged a second pallet over for breakdown to make sure you would have enough wood to last the night. Then, you just dropped on your ass on the floor, staring at the fire. There was nothing else to do, you had done the best you could. All your reserves were gone.

At least now you had heat and it felt so good just to sit in front of the fire and let it warm you. You weren't shivering anymore. All your limbs were numb. Maybe that was bad. You thought you read somewhere that when the shivers were gone that was the next stage of hypothermia. But you weren't sure. Your brain was sluggish. It had no more input to give you now that you had done all the tasks. You had now redeemed yourself.

“Sorry,” you told the turtles across the fire. “If I hadn't insisted you guys go out, none of this would have happened. I almost got you killed. I'm so sorry.”

“Hey, that is not your fault,” Raphael shot back. “It's the Foot's fault for being assholes. And it's our fault for forgetting that we needed to keep an eye out. We got sloppy, not you.”

“No one's blaming you,” Donatello confirmed. “I'm still glad we did it. I hadn't had that Christmas feeling since we were kids. I had forgotten all about it. I was glad to remember it again.”

“Ditto!” Michelangelo cut in. “You make a turtle feel young at heart again.”

You smiled softly. It was all you could manage. You couldn't make your body move, now that you had finally allowed it rest.

“Hey,” Leonardo called to you. “Why are you over there? Come sit with us and get warm.”

You just looked at him and slowly blinked. Sitting over there sounded nice, but what sounded even nicer was to let the blackness of sleep take you. Your head lolled forward and then the rest of you slowly fell over on your side. There, now you could go to sleep. And you wished the boys would stop yelling your name. You were so tired.

At some point, you were aware of strong arms picking your boneless body off the floor. You were set among a nest of large forms and green hands worked to gently peel the soaked clothes off your body. Left in just your underwear, you were the center of the turtle nest as they all huddled together to get warm. Their bodies were still so cold against your skin. None of you were producing any heat from your bodies, but you still tried.

You took the nearest cold hand you could grab and pressed it to your stomach, trying to warm it. As the fire's heat settled into your skin and in the air, you grabbed the next green hand to replace it, rubbing the fingers.

They were too cold, too cold. They needed to get warmer. Your brain just kept going over that mantra, even as you drifted in and out of consciousness. Through the night, you don't remember much if any talking among the brothers. You do remember them often rotating spots so the turtles on the outside could then spend some time on the inside of the cuddle pile.

You were always in the middle; always kept warm and protected. Always surrounded by solid plastrons and thick thighs as they kept your off the cold ground with their own limbs. By the time the gray winter sun eked in through the dirty windows, you were sore and still tired, but toasty warm as a fire still crackled on front of you. And very large turtle bodies protectively huddled around you.

As you awoke, the first thought in your mind was if they were all okay. But the first sign of movement from you had Michelangelo singing loudly in your ear.

“We wish you a merry Christmas!”

You groaned.

“We wish you a merry Christmas!”

“Mikey, nooo...”

“We wish you a merry Christmaaaas!”

“Mikey, shut it!” Raphael barked.

“AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

You rolled to press your face into the plastron of the very turtle that was singing to you and you could feel the vibrations of his laughter. Your second half lay in the lap of Donatello and he rubbed your leg to warm it up.

“How do you feel? Does anything hurt?”

All your muscles hurt, but you sat up with a smile. “I'm fine. I'm worried about you and your leg.”

Leonardo approached, holding out your ski jacket. “Here, put this on, it's mostly dry now. We managed to get one of the cells to work and called April. She's coming to get us.”

“I'll be fine once we can get back to the lair and take care of everyone's wounds,” Donatello confirmed. “You got us out, we're all okay.”

As you blissfully wrapped yourself in your jacket, you smiled thankfully. This could have ended  badly. These dear friends you had in your life could have been taken from you so easily. Yet, all of you survived. Christmas miracle? Maybe.

A solid bang on the door made them all jump, then it was yanked open, revealing April's perturbed countenance. She was not happy to be called out at the crack of dawn on Christmas morning.

“Get your shells in gear before anyone sees me driving that fugly van of yours!” she called.

When she actually saw the state of her turtles and their wounds, she quickly changed from irritated old sister to mother hen. She checked each turtle over and helped them into the van. You were grateful for her. You could never trust if the turtles told you they were alright. They would want to keep you from worrying. But if April looked them over and saw they looked like they weren't in any immediate danger of dying, you could believe that.

You crawled into the back seat with Leonardo, since you two were the only ones without any bullet wounds. Donatello had to sit in the front with his bad leg. The other brothers took the middle.

“Not the best Christmas ever like I had hoped,” you lamented as you all drove away.

“Hey, sometimes any Christmas you survive is a good Christmas,” Raphael joked in front of her.

Leonardo took your hand and squeezed. “It's definitely one we'll remember for the rest of our lives.”

“I mean, we did all get naked together. That's a pretty good Christmas,” Michelangelo grinned back at you.

You reached in front of you to hug him around the neck. “I'm just glad you're all okay.”

“We're glad you're okay, too. You had us worried for a minute last night.”

You weren't sure what to say about that. You had never worried about yourself that night. Instead, you just kissed his dome and settled back in for the ride home.

************

Once returning to the lair and receiving hot baths and warm clothes, a fussy Splinter tended to his son's wounds and made all of you eat. You brought out your presents for them: giant, thick, weighted blankets that the guys all immediately curled up with in the living room. Thirty minutes into watching “The Grinch” and they were all sound asleep. And you were pretty much trapped at the bottom of that turtle pile. But you didn't mind. It felt like this was where you belonged. And this definitely was a Christmas all of you would remember.

[takiki16]

Hey so I am starting to get into Jupiter Ascending fandom (a couple years late but what can I say). I was thinking of writing a fic. Do you have any resources for JA extra information?

Thanks in advance. Also I am loving your fic (it's how I started getting into the fandom lololol). can't wait to reread!!!

HOOOOOOO BOY!!!!

I'm paging @bemusedlybespectacled, @gallifreyburning, @vr-trakowski, @sorrelchestnut, @florentinequill, @fuckyeahjupiterascending, @vrabia, and honestly ANYONE ELSE who wants to chime in here, bc HOOOOOOO BOY!

(I made that sweet puppy in fucking 2015 on my dying laptop in the travel study dorm in DC, JUPITER ASCENDING HOW I LOVE THEE)

The eternal fucking tragedy of Jupiter Ascending is that the wider world doesn't love it like we do. Does it have every single thing that turns my crank, id-wise? Sure! Does it have gorgeous over-the-top sequined costumes and extravagant set pieces that remind you at every minute that this movie specially thanked Swarovski Crystal in the credits? Sure! Does it have theeeee single most pinpoint reading of MY PERSONAL FEMALE GAZE that Channing Tatum has ever done? (sorry mister Magic Mike, but you do not even come CLOSE to "may I kill him?" in terms of sexy) SURE! Was this movie a commercial or critical success? Absolutely not 😔

There isn't, as far as I'm aware, an art book. There isn't an official novelization. There isn't even an actual script posted to the usual internet databases that isn't just an automatic shitty talk-to-text rendition of the movie dialogue. There are concept art paintings and old cast interviews floating around, and this auction website where the Wachowskis auctioned off some of the props from the movie, but as far as canon resources and extra material beyond the movie itself there isn't much. A quick duckduckgo search would probably be more helpful to you than anything else, if any of the websites still have the articles up - it WAS eight years ago, and doesn't that just break my fucking heart.

My corner of tumblr LOVED this movie. In 2015, there were TONS of posts gathering interviews, posting concept art, making cosplays, all the signs of a small but healthy fandom ecosystem. However, we call this the blue hellsite for a reason - not all of those resources are still there, and the ones that survived time and incompetent archival site coding are probably difficult to find. I would definitely recommend trawling the JA tags of all the blogs I tagged at the start of this post, as JA introduced me to two of my longest and most beloved of all mutuals. ALL of their insights were key to A Fine Chain.

There is also my own jupiter ascending tag and my more specific jupiter ascending meta tag, although I don't know how bored you are lol. The general JA tag is 105 pages - I would almost recommend just starting at page 105 and working forward from there since it chronicles my descent into kinky space angel werewolf brain rot pretty nicely. There are also my ao3 bookmarks for JA.

I WILL SAY that it has been 8 years, and I have changed into a very different person than the one I was when I first saw this movie. I don't REGRET the first few chapters of A Fine Chain, or any of my breathless meta posts, but I do think that if I were to write any of them over again, I'd hope that my writing style has matured and I'd have lots more extra material to draw from. Actually graduating from law school, writing long fic in another fandom, and generally percolating more as a person has given me lots of new perspectives on JA that make it more interesting even as I still enjoy it (for example, HBO's Succession is ODDLY RELEVANT and I wish there were more JA fanwriters to take advantage of that fact).

...I hope that was helpful? I will ETERNALLY mourn the fact that this fandom wasn't isn't bigger - we haven't even broken 1k on ao3! But EYE MYSELF am here to discuss JA stuff as long as this weird spurt of creative energy sustains me, and my inbox is always open!

[soyouareandrewdobson]

Asians are all the same, right? The racism of a company cock gurgling moron

Like herpes and unlike the Dobbear, I am back baby.

At this point, deepest apology for my long absence. Personal issues over the last two years prevented me from writing anything and also destroyed for the longest time any desire to really continue the blog.

However, I don’t want to let things unfinished and seeing how the hypocricyofandrewdobson still manages to get some rise out of old Dobson related stuff, I wanted to just return, in order to properly contribute a bit more critical thinking in regard to his old comics.

And while I will not immediately return to my retrospective of SYAC, here is at least (for a start) my opinion on one comic of his, that in my opinion just proved hilarious and controversial in hindsight, and rather racist even back then.

I admit, I don’t know anymore what the title of the comic here is. All I know is, that it came out around 2018, shortly after the release of his “Black Panther” comic, another malignant piece of Dobtrash that has made the rounds online ever since. However, unlike the Black Panther comic, which became the center of a lot of discussion regarding Dobson’s racist assumptions about comic book fans while ironically trying to present himself as woke, this one was weirdly drifting off into obscurity. Which is kinda weird, cause in my opinion, it is way more racist and actually kinda insulting to the very craft Dobson supposedly “dedicated” his life to.

Let me explain.

First, over the course of three panels, Dobson comes essentially off like he is considering the medium of comics as inferior to the medium of movies. Making it look as if comics are unsuccessful because they cannot rail in the same amount of money than certain flics and calling them at best nothing more but a pitching ground for corporations to create new shallow mass product.

Now I am a bit of a realist and I know that, especially in the world of mainstream American superhero comics, this is kinda the case. Most comic book characters, stories and franchises are owned by multibillion dollar corporations, who either have a direct hand in the creation of the product (via corporate mandate for example) and/or use the likeness of the product to make profit in additional, more valuable revenues than the printed medium. Such as cartoons, merchandise and movies. One example I can think of, to show that it isn’t just an American issue: Yugioh. The card game wouldn’t have come to be if there hadn’t been a manga starring a little boy putting together an ancient Egyptian puzzle, but while the original manga ended way back in March of 2004, the card game makes millions globally still after 25 years and counting.

But that doesn’t change the fact, that comics as a medium still have value. Without the stories told within their pages, we wouldn’t have characters such as Captain America, Superman, the Mask, the Ninja Turtles and so on to begin with. Don’t get me even started on stories that aren’t falling into the American mainstream comic trend, but still succeeded in the printed comic medium partly because of genuine artistic and profound value such as Maus, Barefoot Gen, Watchmen, V for Vendetta, TinTin and a shitton of (other) stuff from Europe and Asia.

So when Dobson, who always acted like he is proud to be a cartoonist and that comics are a superior medium to others, suddenly reduces them to just being a “pitch ground for better stuff down the line” at best, I as a fan of the medium and just the art of creating stories in itself, get kinda pissed.

Additionally, the way how he compares movies to be better than comics, is severely flawed.

He brings up the fact, that “Captain America: Civil War” made over one billion dollars at the box office as an example, while pointing out the fact, that most single comic issues barely manage to sell 100.000 copies, while holding up a copypasted “Civil War” issue.

Already, Dobson essentially compares apples with bananas, while also giving both false and incomparable data, that also ignores many aspects to be considered.

For starters: He compares the earnings of both movies and comics with two different values. For movies, he goes by the monetary profit a superhero movie could possibly make, while for the comic issue, he goes by the total number of copies sold.

But here is the thing: Assuming the average selling price of a comic is at 4 dollars for a single 30 page issue, selling 100.000 copies would ring in like 400.000 dollars. And considering that producing one issue likely costs a company less than 20.000 dollars (obvious costs for mass production and distribution not withstanding) they can still make a decent profit this way from ONE issue alone. One issue. Not multiple issues of a long running, but sadly underperforming series. All of that by the way doesn’t even account for the fact, that most single issues at best tell only a quarter of a decent short story nowadays and ignores later “long term” factors, such as reprints of the issue, late term buying of the issue, tradepaperback sells of the issue, the longterm effect and cultural impact the issue may have on the actual series or plot continuity  (such as Amazing Spiderman 122, aka “The Night Gwen Stacy Died”). Don’t get me even started on the fact, that many of these issues get first sold in the US and only over the course of one year or longer may then additionally be sold in other parts of the world, therefore bringing in even more money for the publisher.

Example: The Duck comics by Don Rosa, which earn more than four times more in Europe, than they ever did in America, despite the guy being from California. Finally, a a little add addendum: that example Dobson gives indirectly via the “Civil War” issue? A quick google search revealed, that Civil War issue 1 sold over 300k copies in May of 2006 alone. Sure, not necessarily the best numbers ever for a single issue (as evident by the following list: https://bookriot.com/bestselling-comics-of-all-time/ )but still nothing to be ashamed of.

And yes, I know that we live currently in a time, where comic book sells have dropped significantly for a variety of reasons, one of them being an overall lack of decent stories. But as long as other stuff still manages to run freaking circles around American superheroes (*cough* One Piece *cough*) I wouldn’t say the medium itself is dead. Just a specific branch of it is suffering from a lack of quality and the customers are jumping ship.

A superhere movie meanwhile is a completely different beast. Ever since “The Avengers” came out in 2012, most superhero movies are 150-250 million dollar behemoths, that get overhyped by advertisement campaigns that are almost equally as expensive and try to trick the audience into believing, that they all are somehow the next big mindblowing thing on the big screen. Plus there hasn’t really been a superhero movie in the last 10+ years, that didn’t release simultaneously worldwide, instead of only coming out in the USA, and then a few months later, in other parts of the world.

So is it any wonder then, if a superhero movie that got advertised like the second coming of a saint, makes 1 billion, when there are already billions of potential customers worldwide all at once when the product launches?

That number btw becomes actually less impressive, once you start to think about how it came to be. Something our blue bear obviously didn’t.

See, on average every movie theater demands like what, 12-14 dollars per movie nowdays?

If we divide the box office of Civil war (1.152 billion btw) with 12 dollars, that makes on average 100 million people worldwide who watched the movie. A bit more than one or two percent of the worlds population. Not to forget, that of the box office success we have to substract such things as production cost of the movie, advertisement, the earnings of the theaters… so suddenly the movie may at best have had only earned one quarter of its box office for Disney as actual profit.

Not to forget, Dobson made that comic in 2018, when superhero movies on average did ring in so much money, because of the hype machine. But now we have 2023 and within the last five years (and especially 2023 itself) we have seen how superhero movies can also utterly fail to make money or even earn just enough to make back the production cost. Birds of Prey, Eternals, Ant Man 3, that Secret Invasion streaming show that still cost over 200 million… Do I need to get on?

Bottom line, Dobson’s indirect jab at comics as the less profitable revenue doesn’t hold that much water really in the real world, where once the hype dies down, comics may actually prove themselves as the more valuable longterm medium. Even if it may just be for the fact, that they end up staying longer relevant in the popcultural subconscious than the current movies, which tend to lose relevance with each new hastily produced and released installment in the franchise.

But where this comic really shines and shows Dobson’s ignorance on a cultural level, is in the last panel. When all off sudden it turns “racial” by claiming that Asian people, unlike “traditional” comic readers (aka white, in Dobbear s eyes therefore instantly racist people), would eat a Marvel character like Amadeus Cho up.

Question Dobson: Why do you assume, they would eat him up? You give no real argument based on anything the character does storywise, that the “target audience” may find admirable. So I can only think, that your reasoning is, because he is ever so slightly east asian coded.

Boy, do we have to unpack not just a can of worms, but a whole package of cans now.

First, the chosen language by saying “eat it up”. When being a writer, you should know that you need at times to choose your words wisely, because of the sheer implications they can carry. And the statement “eat it up” sounds way to close to a negative statement like “suck it up”. Making it come off as if Dobson considers Asian people to be mindless cattle that will consume the grub the House of Mouse will give them without question or any desire for actual quality to it.

Second, it recks of a certain mind set I hate within the American entertainment industry and some of its creators and consumers. That mind set being, that “non-traditional” American cultures supposedly don’t know better than Americans in what is okay for the sake of representation and entertainment or not. It’s a mindset that goes beyond the necessity of e.g. localizing a foreign product to the national market, by e.g. creating a sterilized, corporately mandated and rather unrealistic depiction of another culture within their product, that will fall apart as soon as the people who are supposed to be represented get a proper look at it and realize, how pandering and often times badly researched, if not outright offensive, it is.

Only recently did we see in the world of animation how that can backfire, when Disney released the trailer for “Primos” an upcoming animated show supposedly about a half Latina girl spending her summer vacation with her annoying cousins, people calling it based on the intro (and a leaked pilot) pandering towards a latino audience in a racist manner. And guess what: currently, Disney shelves it and tries to bury its existence like Dobson his old inflation art.

Dobson himself has actually indulged in that sort of shit kinda, back with his infamous Nintendo comic.

Essentially calling the “true”, Nintendo corporation approved depiction of his childhood Nintendo heroes disgraceful, for not falling in line with the late 80s depictions he saw in localized, made in America products such as the DiC cartoons. That and minor homophobia mixed with misogyny by calling Link “girly” for having longer blond hair since Ocarina of Time and blaming fangirls for it.

Third, and that is kinda related to my prior point, the reality of things is, that “Asians” actually did not eat up that sort of thing in the last couple of years. Sure, there is always that thing about a Chinese market. the big movie companies try to pander to and may succeed with some dumb action flics featuring big robots.

But the reality is, that not even people living in a dictatorship will eat up every trash you give to them, just because it comes from Hollywood or is supported by their glorious leadership. Disney tried to create two pandering messes of movies for Chinese people to watch, called Mulan (the live action adaptation) and that Shang Chi movie. And how did they do there? Oh right! The government did not even allow Shang Chi to be released and Mulan was released but supposedly didn’t do so well, considering (COVID not withstanding) it only made 70 million globally!

Don’t get me even started on every human right controversy in relation to the later, starting with filming in China near a concentration camp and ending with the main actress being essentially a Chinese propaganda puppet.

So, if those movies flopped, why would Chinese people for example flock for an Asian Hulk? A hulk that is not even Chinese but Korean.

See, this is another issue that fails with the example: The actual choice of character Dobson name dropped is actually kinda terrible.

For those unaware: Amadeus Cho is a supporting character in the Marvel comics, created in 2005 by American writer Greg Pak and artist Takeshi Miyazawa. The later, despite the name being very east Asian, sounding, actually being from Canada. Now both do have east Asian roots so to speak (Pak  e.g. is the son of an Korean-american man with a Caucasian woman), but they also have grown up within a society that taught them both western social values more so than we would see in east Asian countries. So with the creators already not necessarily having the most real life experience with the average mindset of a Korean citizen, can we really say that their actual creation helps “represent” those people of a foreign, non-american culture?

And that is not even covering stuff like the actual story of the character itself.

See, in the comics, Cho is supposed to be an American-Korean genius (wish fullfillment much, Greg?) and one of the smartest people in the Marvel Universe. His parents named him after Amadeus Mozart (a pretty white motherfucker as far as I remember) and he grew up under Methodist beliefs. So basically the “Korean heritage” of the character has already been thrown out of the window. Now I don’t expect the character to act stereotypical Korean, listen to K-pop, declare bulgogi to be his favorite dish or any of that shit. But when you want to sell me the character as being in some way or another connected to his ancestral culture, shouldn’t he engage at least in some “Korean coded” things?

I mean, the character of Anne Boonchuy in Amphibia is a Thai-American who acts more like a 13 year old girl that learns to be less selfish and impulsive over the course of the show and whose “heritage” isn’t thrown at us, the viewer, most of the time. In fact, Anne herself acknowledges that she e.g. can’t really speak thai, despite her own mother being fluent in it and a season 3 episode reveals, that Anne is “begrudgingly” a part of the L.A. thai community. And yet, in connection to the shows story and as part of Anne’s characterization, her heritage is acknowledged and plays a part of who she is. Even if it simply means she knows how to cook certain thai dishes, loves her parents and their customs, helps out in their restaurant, can speak a few words thai and knows the basics of Muay Thai, a form of martial arts (and fighting sport) from Thailand.

Amadeus doesn’t even have Korean parents anymore, because they were killed as part of his tragic hero backstory. Nor has he ever visited an Asian country. Oppps.

To build further up on it, Amadeus becomes for the longest time simply a major supporting character in the Marvel universe for the likes of Hulk and Hercules, two white coded characters. Sure, he plays a major role in the defeat of some cosmic horror level villains (such as Mikaboshi in the Chaos God storyline most people forgot even existed) but it takes a long time for him to become a “A-lister” so to speak.

In fact, according to Wikipedia, it wasn’t till after “Secret Wars” in 2016 (eleven years after the character was created), that Amadeus thanks to a chain of events eventually got his chance to Hulk out. And then they still had to kill Bruce Banner to make Amadeus “stand out” initially (don’t worry, Bruce came back. I mean, characters actually staying dead in comics, so that heroes can learn there are consequences? Preposterous) In fact, Amadeus hasn’t really proven himself as a decent “solo” act. Instead he became a member of the Champions (among Miles Morales, Mrs. Marvel, Vision’s daughter Viv. Nova and Cyclops), essentially creating yet another superhero team for teenaged vigilantes. Despite the fact, Cho himself should be by now in his mid 20s.

Now look, I do not want to shit talk the character. Partly because I haven’t read everything he was in myself and partly because in the few things I did see him in (both pre- and post Hulk) he was okay. He is a decent hero and person, who tries to do good, even if he screws up here and there. That is something I can admire in a character in general. But he is not a good “representation” of another culture, because his complexion and minor physical features aside, he is NOT embodying even minor values or traditions of that foreign culture. He is simply a Korean-American (or technically Canadian), who falls more on the American side of things.

So essentially, Dobson who virtue signaled on multiple occasions how bad it is when companies he didn’t like tried to speak on behalf of other cultures, would have no problem at all to ask for Asian people to swallow this obviously “Made in American” product. The “Made in America” line actually working both on a metaphorical and a storytelling level, cause trying to google what “east Asian coded” heroes in the Marvel Universe actually come from an Asian country instead of being simply born on American soil, is pretty damn small.

After 20 minutes I only found Shang Chi, as he was born in China, and that character was created as part of kung-fu exploitation in the 70s by white dudes.

Yaiks

However, none of that tops the next two points that really sell Dobson to me as an American centralistic racist. Or at least a twat who doesn’t understand how through bad wording he comes of as ignorant of other people’s cultures.

The way he generalizes Asian people in his statement, while also ignoring the actual accomplishments in the creation of entertainment in multiple Asian countries.

If you’ve read closely what I typed, you may have seen that I used the term Asian at times in tandem with the term “east Asian” to e.g. describe Amadeus Cho.

And that had a very deliberate reason. While I was not a fan of geography in school, even I know that Asia as a continent is not “nationally” as homogenous as let’s say Australia or North America. In fact, Asia is the biggest continent on the planet, hosts more than half of earth’s population and consists of at least 47 internationally acknowledged states.

States such as Turkey, Russia, Afghanistan, Pakistan, India, China, Japan, Malaysia, Thailand, Vietnam, North- and South Korea, Egypt, Israel, Iraq, Iran and so on.

Now what all these states have in common, is that they have their own unique historical, social and “racial” culture and background. Heck, religiously speaking, Asia is the cradle of the world.

As such, Dobson stating that a “Korean coded” character such as Amadeus Cho (who is only Korean on the most surface level and would technically just be a legacy character of yet another white person) would be an immediate hulk smash hit with all these different people of different backgrounds…. Yeah, it sounds like condescending, colonization inspired shit, a smooth brain would come up with.

To Dobson “Asia”, at least based on that comic, is only defined as the “yellow skinned” people from the far east, who like rice, noodles, spicy food and give us anime, Godzilla, fireworks, buddhism and communism. It does not include anyone from the middle east or of more European ancestry. And if you are even remotely familiar about history, you would also know that Japanese, Koreans and Chinese all around do not e.g. like to be thrown into a pot with the others for a variety of reasons. Many of them political.

Or to sum it up even shorter: Dobson insinuated that a very shallow, “east Asian” coded American comic character would be an immediate hit with more than 47 different countries, ignoring that not all of them share the same background despite being part of the “same” landmass. And in doing so, he simultaneously generalized and denounced entire groups of people based on their racial and cultural background, which in as far as I am aware of, is considered racist.

But the “racism” is supposedly justified, because “representation” matters, it would be giving the middle finger to “traditional” comic fans and those nations and their culture are underrepresented globally.

Which is baloney.

Don’t get me wrong, I myself think that representation does matter. But the world does not necessarily rely on the good old US-Ayy only to give it to us.

Cause a lot of the Asian nations I brought up here? They have their own entertainment industry and stories, which again, get ignored by Dobson to make a dumb and false point.

I mean, manga is currently dominating the international comic market, all while Japan has also a booming animation industry and some of the most iconic heroes in modern popculture with the likes of Son Goku, Kamen Rider, Super Sentai etc.

China has a prominent -if propaganda driven- movie industry.

India has Bollywood and delivers some of the most ridiculous but awesome musical movies on the planet.

Russia had authors such as Tolstoy and movie directors, that redefined the “art” of filmmaking.

Korea had a few years ago one of the biggest streaming hits with Squid Game, while also earning an Oscar for a movie titled Dobs- I mean “Parasite”.

Egypt, Iran, Iraq, Turkey… even nations that have not entertainment living up to “western standards” still produce stuff in some way or form to entertain the masses and their people. Just google up the character Kara Murat aka the avenger of Anatolia.

And don’t get me even started on the sheer ton of mythology, stories and history each of their cultures have provided the world with. Journey to the West? Baba Yaga, the entirety of the Gilgamesh epos...

And yet, there is this indirect assumption by Dobson, that all of them would be so deprived of “heroes” in their media and folklore, they would letch on second hand shop Hulk? Fuck off, Dobbear. I know you like to suck corporate cock as long as you think they are woke and you have childhood nostalgia for them, but this is pathetic. Take Amadeus before A Rama Raju comes around and roundhouse kicks him back to Canada. Then get the taste of mouse smegma of your Disney cock gobbling lips.

[kitkat-the-muffin]

*drum-roll*

*louder drum-roll*

*even louder drum-roll*

*loudest drum-roll*

GUESS WHO? IT’S WEBTOON!!!!

Here's a quick little bio for you:

She/Her Pronouns

Obsessed with Drama (default skin)

Verified Sword Lesbian™️

Wields a one-handed cliché anime sword using the upper body strength of a Mary Sue

Has terrible taste in everything (movies, character design, advertising methods, friends)

Enjoys Amino's presence (disrupts a canon event)

Exchanges cryptocurrency with Amino on a regular basis

Creative, artsy, and colorful

Jumps to conclusions easily

Not immune to propaganda (will believe ANYTHING)

Easily susceptible to clickbait

Overconfident gambler and gold-digger

Optimistic Derse Dreamer

Unhealthily invested in the romance lives of other people (and fictional people)

Constantly forgets to renew her Spotify subscription

Doesn't know what an adblocker is

Forgets to use trigger warnings sometimes

Probably has an ongoing feud with TappyToon

"How can you read this? There's no pictures!"

Her genre changes depending on her mood and the topic of discussion

Her skirt and bow change with her genre

The bell on her zipper rings whenever her genre changes

I will make a separate post of all her genres for easier access later and put the link [here].

Funky little rant under the cut as well as a single progress-shot at the bottom

I've been working on this character for a few months now and I'm happy with how she turned out. It was a lengthy process of trying to make her look the way I wanted her to and part of that was changing aspects of her design and allowing my friends to help and support me. At one point one of my friends told me the drawing was too stiff and ordered me to doodle ugly things until I felt confident enough to break out of my comfort zone, and that really helped Webtoon feel more personalized I think

To be honest, Socialstuck has pulled me out of my artist's block. For the longest time I had no motivation to draw anything at all because I wasn't confident enough in my abilities and art style to even try. I'm still not good at drawing poses, and even now this drawing is an imitation of Cloutchase's art style. However, the simplicity of that art style inspired me to draw, and suddenly I found myself creating more and more drafts. Whether those drafts will ever be completed is up to the future, but it's a big step for me to finally try again

This piece may be in Cloutchase's art style, but it's also got a little bit of me in it as well, and I'm more than happy to contribute to a fun community of people making stuff together by adding my own OC into the mix

Funny addition: At the bottom of my Webtoon notes is a small section of past-me complaining about how hard it was to draw with my dog staring at me. I got peer-pressured by my dog XD

Anyway here's the progress shot and also Webtoon's beta-design I made with a picrew (I beta all my character designs in picrew lol)

And here’s a vertical draft of her final design in HD as a treat:

[eccentric-nucleus]

so, i finally finished (posting) my huge, novel-length teenage mutant ninja turtles fanfic. i just posted the final epilogue over on ao3!

here is my director's commentary on it, if you want to read even more about it. this contains spoilers for the whole thing. maybe read the epilogue first and sit with that for a minute. also this will probably be pretty incoherent if you haven't read the whole thing. it's just a disconnected series of thoughts i have about the story, really

man, this story. this is maybe the longest thing i've ever written? like 'the new hive' and 'hell game' had more words (i think) but they were mostly a disconnected series of sex scenes with thin connective tissue between them. this is ~200k words of a single, linear, mostly-plot narrative. i'm writing scenes that aren't just about getting the two leads to fuck!! that's weird. it's definitely the most ambitious thing i've written. kind of weird that it's tmnt fanfic. that's just how it worked out, i guess.

so back in 2022 i watched the rise of the tmnt movie because people kept talking about the animation quality of the fights and that got me into a spiral of actually paying attention to the ninja turtles. i had never been into them & genuinely i think a huge part of getting into tmnt stuff was that rise actually varied the design of the turtles so that they weren't all basically identical save for color-coding. turns out visual design was the missing mystery ingredient.

also in 2022 i was burning out on writing 'goblin cave', when what i had intended to be a fun little writing exercise ended up getting algorithmically surfaced and getting me hundreds of comments on each chapter. that got a little stressful and i wasn't really enjoying that, so i stopped. but i was like, hmm you know i mostly just write weird porn but maybe i should write something a little more ambitious. with a plot, and everything. 'goblin cave' was (in my mind) all about a character who was created for violence deciding art was a much more worthwhile pursuit. but the main character of that doesn't know what art is. because it's a magical dungeon core. and i was still thinking a lot about dead zones of the imagination, by david graeber. so i was like, okay, let's do this again but in a slightly more self-authentic way and make it weird gay porn with weird animal dicks. let's give michelangelo ninjaturtle a monologue about how the powerful are utterly insulated from any consequence.

(also early on, after watching most of rottmnt, i stumbled across this blog post about the tmnt comics and the end of the world. that ended up being deeply influential on the fic too. i've been kinda in a state for the past few years and this fic is absolutely a part of me working through a lot of complicated feelings about the world and the future. lol people talk so much about people writing dark fic 'to cope' but this was pretty much the first time i've outsourced my emotional processing by having bad things happen to fictional characters.)

so uhhh where to start here. the setting of the fic is this complicated messy mashup of a half-dozen tmnt continuities. it's very rise-heavy, since... that was the only series i had watched(/read) when i had determined the major plot points, but there's a lot of bits and pieces from all over.

to roughly outline the characters here, a huge influence on mikey's personality in this is... mikey's 'dr delicate touch' persona in rottmnt. in the sense that... okay yes yes that is a kid's show and all of his dr delicate touch lines are, you know, setups and punchlines. you think he's going to be nice but actually he's mean! etc. but in-universe it's like, wait hold on a second. mikey is like the most emotionally-intelligent of the four. he absolutely knows when people are on the edge of flipping out and need a calming out to a stressful situation. and instead he freaks them out more! mikey's hobby is: being mean to his friends & family, for fun! what a fun character trait.

i was thinking about this tweet a lot, too. i read some writing advice once that people tend to make characters who are supposed to be likable too squeaky-clean. nothing but positive character traits for them! but actually every 'positive' character trait is exactly the same as a 'negative' one; it's just a matter of focus and degree. a character is light-hearted and comedic? they can never take things seriously, even when they really should. a character is willing to do anything to protect the people they love? so they're violent and threatening and scary if they happen to decide you're something that they need to protect against. etc. i was really dedicated in this to bringing out the worst characteristics of everybody's personalities.

mikey was also very deeply inspired by: all the garbage progression fantasy stuff i've been reading. i've complained about this several times on this very blog, but a constant theme in most progression fantasy is 1. the main character will constantly get more and more powerful and 2. the main character will never really have their relationship with the rest of the world changed via that power. it's just stat-ups. they just have higher stats so they're more powerful. mikey is the most powerful person on the planet and it's fucking ruining his life. he knows that there's nobody capable of actually checking his behavior, & he's in this constant state of thinking he's maybe a few bad days away from murdering half the planet and incredibly aware there's not really anything he can do about that aside from constantly worry. he's kind of an anxious mess.

mikey absolutely thinks it's more ethical to murder somebody out of the sheer glee of seeing people crushed before you than murdering somebody for something as tedious as mob orders. you're satisfying a deep, raw desire felt from the heart! that's good!

what he'd like to do, in some sense, is just hang out in his studio and chill with other artists, but he knows the world is not gonna let him do that. things will come up. a lot of his being a creepy bystander thing while people get murdered is b/c he's very much formulated his morality to be like... it is not his responsibility to fix other people's problems. other people will do what they want and that has no bearing on him. is that a pretty cowardly and self-serving morality? sure! but he was kinda designed to rule the world & his flinch away from that pretty much defines him as a character in this. that's kinda the morality he needed to end up on to convince himself not to be a genocide machine.

he's incredibly aware he could basically be a superhero, & all it would take is... giving up on all his hopes and dreams and constantly engage with his abilities. and being a superhero isn't that many steps removed from living up to his full design spec and just taking over the world and ruling as god-emperror. idk how well i hit all those notes in the actual fic, but, that's what i was going for. mikey as the narrator clearly doesn't want to talk or think about it so it's never really directly confronted.

raph is... okay so i guess a fairly common piece of fanon, for rise especially, is to characterise raph as having multiple personalities? whether that's him just having alters or him having full-blown MPD depends on the fic. my fun little nod to that is that he's kind of a disassociative mess. he has kind of failed to reconcile the disparate aspects of his personality and he switches between one of several different facades depending on the situation. also, you know. the trauma.

(i didn't really mean for it to be as such, but there is this theme in the story about names? despite everything else mikey has a crystal-clear self-conception of himself and has one name, which he gave himself. raph, who has kinda failed to build his own personality, has a collection of name other people have given him, none of which he feels actually fits him. donnie has a more fluid self-identity and also has roughly a million aliases and false identities & constantly slips in and out of character when it's convenient. leatherhead still going by the name mikey gave him goes hand-in-hand with that bit where mikey meanly thinks about how maybe leatherhead's entire self-conception is hung up on something mikey said to him once, etc. this is one of those things that i'd go back and make more present if i did go back and clean up the rough draft, b/c as it is it's there, but it doesn't really do a whole lot.)

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this fic was inspired by... i had read a few big aus that were just like, taking the characters and loose bits of setting and going off in completely different directions. some of NeiNing's aus were a definite influence, plus like, this one au where raph is an ex-con mechanic, etc, etc. just like "i am going to play out a completely unrelated drama using turtles as the dolls". maybe most directly influential was Of Knights and Thieves, where donnie & mikey are corporate espionage hacker/thief types and raph & leo are do-gooder vigilantes. the original concept for this was much more heavily focused on the art forgery. in a very early draft the idea was leo would get involved much more actively in trying to track down the creator of the false takenobus. then i was like, "i am going to crash a completely separate story concept about the dark armor into the side of this art-forgery story". the filename for the story is still 'lol grindr hookup art thief'. that is not really where the story went.

oh man, the art stuff. i made some posts about this at the time! that are now several years old. here's one! i did end up getting a traditional woodcut printing of Tokaido 53 stations, no. 11, Hokone. in a lot of ways doing all the art research was more satisfying and fun than writing the extensive downward spiral that was the latter half of the fic. but, hey, that's life too i guess.

also raph in this is... okay, so, i don't mean this in a mean way. i really liked the fics! but cndrow has written several raph/donnie fics where raph is just like... like a repeated theme in them is raph confessing eternal love & talking about how he's like, mentally planning on them being together forever. on the first date. and sure sure everybody has different tastes; i'm absolutely sure that my interest in guys who are mean leads to some stories that are extremely offputting to some people, etc. but it's like, oh man, raph, please slow your roll a little. if somebody said they were planning our future wedding all of ten minutes into talking to me i would flee the room. & the raph in blinded by the summer sun is very much inspired by that. sadly, i never fully committed to that. originally i even had a line in chapter 9 where slash was like 'please tell me you didn't drop the 'i love you forever' on this guy already' to imply that that was, you know, a theme for raph, but i chickened out and cut it. raph as a kind of rolling series of bad relationships characterized by him falling forever in love w/ his latest crush until the relationship detonates and leaves him not really understanding how things went wrong. but i don't think that's expressed well like, at all. but that ideally should characterize a large part of why he keeps chasing after mikey even well after the point where it would be reasonable to disengage. also to convey some of the downsides of a character believing in true love. it's rough out there in the world.

also thank you tumblr user averyterrible for writing this goncharov post. that was the point in the story where i was like, actually i have been writing raph as way too much of a sad boy. if i want to play in the space of crime drama, there needs to be some crime! he's a yakuza assassin. he needs to chop off somebody's fingers with bolt cutters.

--

to me, the central question in the fic isn't really 'will the mikey/raph relationship work out' or 'will mikey succeed in his plans', it's 'why is mikey doing these things'. & i think the leatherhead chunks in chapter 23 finally give enough context to what's going on with mikey to let people answer that? like oh, mikey is a mess.

(lol the initial setup for the early chapters are supposed to give an audience response of like, "oh no, raph has some dangerous secrets" "oh no, raph is a violent yakuza murderer! i hope mikey is going to be okay interacting with raph" "...oh no, i hope raph is going to be okay interacting with mikey")

a lot of the story really is about how... mikey & raph's relationship is in a lot of ways very adolescent? they have not had a lot of prior experience with healthy relationships, and they're trying, but, uhhhhhhh. mikey likes to act like he's so cool and above-it-all and unaffected by things happening, but that's actually just b/c he doesn't really care about most things. when something happens that he genuinely doesn't like he immediately snaps and has a giant meltdown. (we see this once with raph, when mikey has a panic attack and throws up when raph blows him off wrt warning him of bishop, and once with donny about the armor, where mike immediately starts tantruming and threatening to kill himself. mikey is very bad at resolving conflict. he's kind of a brat, actually.)

like every character in this is in some way their worst self. they're all pretty awful people. but they're all also trying to... grapple with their place in the world and try to be better people. to even figure out what 'better' means. this is a story about how 'being a good person' is a constant struggle, not to 'do the right thing', but to even figure out what's 'right'. it's about picking yourself up again after a bad period and going, well, let's keep going. like mikey has a lot of traits but one that i, the author, actually think is fairly admirable is his ability to get back up and keep going after a really bad period. which is funny b/c characterwise that goes hand-in-hand with his callousness. just shrug off all the misery you caused other people, i guess! see above about positive/negative character traits.

(also uh there's another tmnt fic author whose work has a lot of... a Bad Guy is constructed/identified. then helpless children (or teens!) are rescued from him. then the bad guy is ruthlessly & violently murdered. sometimes onscreen, sometimes offscreen. and then it's nothing but chapter after chapter of people being happy and cutesy to each other. and like, i get it. but the, like, recurring theme there of the Bad Guy having done something fundamentally unforgivable that separates from all understanding & mercy, to which the only justice is a violent death, just strikes me as... simplistic. sometimes people do really awful things and part of grappling with that as an adult with an adult moral conceptualization is realizing that you gotta look past your initial reflex to punishment.

or like, mikey's whole childhood in this really fucked him up but a huge part of his identity is him having to form an identity from that. having to make the determination of which parts of him are 'him' and which parts were done to him. lol @ him aggressively and extensively rejecting everything about what draxum made him to do & then blithely being like 'we were engineered to eat humans anyway' as a defense for all the corpse-eating. mikey you just like eating people & have decided that part does align with your self-identity. mikey would really not appreciate anybody being like 'i'm sorry nobody saved you from that' b/c that (to him) would basically be the same as them saying they thought he was fundamentally, irreparably damaged & was going to be forever incapable of being anything other than what draxum made him to be. he wouldn't take it well.)

uhhh what else. i mean there's a lot. fun fact pretty much every time mikey gets mad at somebody else he's hugely projecting. even his pacifism is like... hmm maybe he should have killed draxum. a lot of his talk @ raph about splinter is secretly mikey relitigating his feelings about draxum. oh what's that mikey you think that splinter is only playing happy family b/c he's immortal and he has infinite time to spend humoring somebody's illusions but that when push comes to shove he'll drop all that? gee i wonder if that might apply to any dynamics in mikey's own life. lol at mikey being like "wow red your life is kind of a fucked-up nightmare of weird psychopaths playing like they're happy family" and then two chapters is like "hey come meet my family. we live in my genocidal dad's bombed-out lab and we're treating him like a weird racist grandpa". i kinda wanted something that would complicate mikey just being like "i am a pacifist now and i don't kill anybody"; mikey that's all well and good but like half his inner tension comes from not being sure if he should've left draxum alive. that's kinda the mirror to him debating whether or not actually killing leatherhead would've been better. (in a few years shelldon is gonna go through a period of not wanting to talk to any of them. mikey & donnie are better parents than draxum but that's such a low bar.)

(likewise at the end when mikey is like "this is raph's healthiest relationship so far!" to leo, like, this is more mikey projecting. really the raph/casey relationship was probably better for raph & casey, idk, who can say. but is mikey's relationship with raph the healthiest romantic interaction he's ever had? yes, absolutely. we don't get to see the mikey/leatherhead relationship really up-close and personal but it should be pretty clear that it was pretty awful for everybody involved. compared to that, the mikey/raph is absolutely mikey's healthiest relationship so far. just. low bars.)

lol i am a little concerned that mikey's tendency to monologue, & especially his whole political monologue near the end, will get people to think he's just acting as an author's soapbox. i mean, okay, the little author's note where i'm like "as always, mikey is a perfect role model and everybody should do what he does" was a fun little joke. but, oof, the number of fics i've read where the authors feel the need to loudly and repeatedly disclaim that This Story Contains Things The Author Does Not Condone In Real Life is pretty disheartening. way to have absolutely no faith in your audience. but likie, the part where mikey is pretty much flat-out like, "actually i think my moral framework is whatever is necessary to justify my actions" is meant to be pretty damning. maybe not of mikey specifically as a character, just of, you know. the whole world where that's a pretty common outlook among people with power.

--

lets talk about the rape. part of it is that it felt like it would be inauthentic to go through the entire story without mikey seriously violating one of raph's boundaries. part of it is that mikey here kinda has the trifecta of ASPD, ADHD, & bipolar, and the thing with that is it's very easy to just say that but a little more difficult to convey the personality traits involved. this isn't really something ever stated as such in the fic, aside from various people calling mikey crazy + raph calls him a sociopath once. it's kind of too didactic to just flatly state "and this is what's wrong with mikey!" imo. but. this is a story about violent people. imo you can't just gesture to a character with the background level of callousness for the genre and go "okay this is a clinical sign"; you kinda gotta do something more direct. 'wow mikey sure is CRAZY and WEIRD good thing it only shows itself as him being slightly mean to people'. no. mikey has done some pretty horrible things in the past and clearly isn't fully done with that.

(i did pretty much go straight down the list of symptoms there. impulsive, suicidal, aggressive, violent, risky sex, arrogant, limited empathy, no regard for other people or social norms, difficulty with relationships, arson, etc, etc, etc. but it's not like he's a 'realistic' portrayal here, since... i mean, he is a super-powered ninja. there's a level of 'superficial charm' here but we do get enough of mikey's interiority to be able to tell he's a total mess in a way that's not particularly constructed.)

also it's like. raph graphically tortures several people to death & i didn't really feel the need to disclaim that here. murder is usually seen as a lesser crime in fiction than rape. people love their violent blorbos but the second there's the implication of sexual violence people freak out. the usual line people say is that the threat of murder is a little more removed for most people than the threat of rape, which idk if i fully agree with. but part of it is also to draw a line between raph's violence and mikey's boundary violation. like mikey says, well, raph tried to non-consensually murder him a few times too.

anyway i don't think i really stuck the landing with that either, in part b/c raph's response to it. he's a little too pathetically accepting of things at the end instead of being angry + violent. that could use a rewrite or two.

--

honestly i'm kinda sick of this story now? which sucks a little, since i kept realizing things about the story all the way up to the very last moment of editing. if i had waited to post any of this until i was done with the first draft... well, it'd be a very different story if i went back and turned this rough draft into something more complete. i never really did manage to hit the character beats with raph i was hoping to. oh well. like, i still like it. but i can definitely see all of its weak points. i guess that's just part of the process of writing. it'd be worse if you wrote a giant novel and came out on the other side not more aware of your failings as an author.

i feel like raph isn't super well-realized in terms of character motivations. or... his relationships aren't shaded in as well as they could be. if i were redoing this whole thing i'd definitely include some chunks of raph pov just to lay out more concretely what he's doing & what his life is like when he's not in the same scene as mikey. i kinda included that raph+donny conversation at the very end just for jokes, but actually ending every chapter with a little section of non-mikey pov would've helped ground a lot of the characters. raph isn't super well-developed and leo is pretty much incoherent absent external familiarity with his character's deal. they're not conveyed super well, in part because, well, any time mikey is onscreen everybody is having to deal with mikey. it's a problem.

but something that absolutely could have worked as a secondary narrative to the story is the whole thing with raph working w/ the oroku. that was a bit of a late addition to the story. it's meant as a reference to, you know, all the times raphael ends up being compared to/assuming the mantle of the shredder in the comics. but as it is since we don't get any real looks into exactly what's going on in yakuza town when mikey's not around none of that got developed very well, imo.

--

it was very important to me that mikey not learn any lesson here. where things are at in the end are pretty much the exact same as where they were in the beginning. the bit in the pizza scene where he's like 'you guys get to live and i get a boyfriend' is very accurate. literally the only change in mikey's life through this entire thing is that at the end he is in a relationship w/ a guy who he can tell some of what his life is like to. not that it's a super healthy relationship, but it is there.

well, that, and also now he's maybe out of time. (uh, so the laughter at the very end of the epilogue is mikey realizing he's out of time. the whole epilogue really is about how he's got all these conflicting tensions of who-knows-what in his life, & then right in the middle of the tension it's like, whoops, the utrom aren't coming in 10 years or 20 years, they're coming now. and in a week you're gonna be getting some really pointed questions about how you know the utrom envoy. and in a few years, well, there's gonna be some planetary evacuation) like the whole story is about... anxiety. mikey feeling the weight of the future on him in every moment. actually seeing things collapse would be a relief; you'd get the release of all the potentiality collapsing into an actual problem. the moral of the story is you get what you get and in the end all mikey's actions, good or bad or otherwise, have bought him is nine more months of ignoring his problems.

anyway sorry to all the tmnt fans who were expecting a happy cheerful mikey/raph story. this is actually about the fundamental injustice of existence. whoops!

[momocicerone]

has tumblr ruined me for discord?

so i am not very active here, but ... i'm not awfully active on discord either? and i've found it very hard to find new social circles on discord over the years. i've tried everything under the sun: fandom servers, friends servers, anime servers, gaming servers, girls only servers, support servers, chilling servers... nothing sticks.

fandom servers, they are usually big and .. um. no. just no. controversy and gatekeeping hub is not my place. friends servers: ppl get lives, and the chat dies, that simple. anime servers is fandom server on steroids, plus always a 15 year old creep trying to get in your pants (sometimes the 15 year old is 25. sometimes he's 35. it matters not, nor it makes any difference). gaming servers are, um first of all there is 1% game talk, 45% who wants to join for a game rn?? and 54% feet gifs and waifu sexy art.. i did not sing up for -- this is not what i,, . girls only servers are very good, very mindful very demure but also no vent rule and i'm sorry i'm a bitter bitch who needs to moan about my work sometimes. chilling servers are way too chill like hello anyone active??

there's an (imo) obscure type of server which is adult servers (hold up NOT adult as in XXX or anything like that but like, grown up people servers who chat about their jobs, hobbies, cats and spouses or lackthereof ）and i've joined a handful of them but i can tell you right now that 90% of them feel like high school. and i didn't even have that kind of high school experience growing up so it's kinda ironic witnessing these popularity contests and gossip happen in real time. I think i'm used to fandom hierarchy and BNFs and i understand the logic of people with talents who give for a community being popular so the whole... using pretty privilege to build up relationships is absolutely bizarre in my eyes. I am an adult, i do not understand other adults.

Needless to say I feel like 98% of the new relationships i managed to forge in the past years, since i joined discord in 2017, are desingenuine. Granted, almost every single one of them has fallen apart as expected.

I review my friendships and I realize the longest and most meaningful started here on tumblr and some of them on the fanfiction community, even when we have long lost our shared interests, the friendships remain intact, if no stronger.

perhaps what im trying to say is that through tumblr and writing we were able to accidentally find more alike people than by entering social settings which intended purpose is to make friends. is it because blogging to the void is infinitedly more personal and lets us show ourselves more? i've gotten in so much trouble because of my tumblr humor getting misunderstood in discord chats, i stopped making self deprecating jokes altogher. I am also kind of morbid, ngl, which i guess doesn't help my case.

am i just a weirdo in denial lmao?

i don't feel lonely, per se. I could catch up with a handful of people if i wasn't the lazy mf that i am. but i am bored. i am bored to death. to oblivion. and i refuse to engage in conversations with people with clearly disengenuine intentions, even if it's to entertain a joke.

will i ever meet another one who matches my energy, or learn to break that energy apart into moderate pieces that i can hand out of my friends?

[jimothystu]

Talk Hockey To Me

Tagged by @david-reinbacher - thank you Alek!!

1. The thing that got you hooked on hockey

So I was kind of assimilated into the hockey world through Blue Jays moots (ty <3), and it was a slow progression for me to 1) start watching 2) pick teams I liked and 3) regularly watch. BUT what really made me be like holy fuck was the final game for the Habs in the 2021/2022 season where they had 10 goals and Cole got his first hattie and people chanted Guy's name. That was insane and just gave me chills the entire time.

2. Your first ever fandom friend

Like I said, I was assimilated through Blue Jays moots, so all of them!! But probably specifically @donttelltheelff <3

3. The jersey you would most like to own

I'd love any jersey tbh. They're so expensive and I have none - so any for my favourite players would be great.

4. YOUR player (you only get ONE so choose wisely)

Jimmy Stu. James. Timmy. The wettest rag in the league. My beloved floppy piece of bread.

5. A pairing that deserves more fic

There are a lot in my humble opinion. Juraj Slafkovsky/Arber Xhekaj, Cole Caufield/Nick Suzuki, Thomas Chabot/Josh Norris (though Jeh and I have been going a lil crazy with them lately...), Quinn Hughes/Josh Norris.

6. Your favourite on-ice moment

When G got his 1000th career point and the entire Sens bench went onto the ice to hug him mid game!!!!!! Vibes per 60 were through the roof!

THEN

link someone else's art/fic/etc that you love & think everyone should check out

Anything @canadian-as-puck writes for Chabs and Josh! These fics keep me sane.

AND

link something you made & are proud of & want people to see

Honestly 99% of the fics I've written the last sixish months have been ones I'm really proud of and loved writing and rereading. But here are my top 5:

Intoxicated: Tim Stutzle/Brady Tkachuk; silly fic where Timmy's high and drunk and can only speak German

Don't break the dam or you might drown in the current: Tim Stutzle/Brady Tkachuk; my longest single chapter fic in which the weight of being the Sens captain finally gets to Brady

You don't go to parties anymore: Thomas Chabot/Josh Norris; Josh stops going to Thomas's house parties and Thomas is desperate to know why

Desperate times call for desperate measures: Tim Stutzle/Brady Tkachuk; Brady's an idiot and has to win Timmy back after not realizing they were dating

Do's and Don't's: Tim Stutzle/Brady Tkachuk and Thomas Chabot/Josh Norris; G is sick of their pda

Tagging @donttelltheelff @canadian-as-puck @gordiemeow @graves-makar @may-the-puck-be-with-you @kylesdubas @lam-ila - no pressure + sorry if you don't wanna do it!!

[inventedfangirling]

Nanon + Khao in 55:15 Never Too Late appreciation post

I had been wanting to watch "55:15 never too late" for the LONGEST time. For several reasons not least among them was that it featured two of my most favourite thai actors - nanon & khaotung. And pls the premise of five 55 year olds returning to their younger 15 yr old bodies in order to make some changes to their past selves and the hijinks that ensue is interesting enough. But ofc the prime reason i was there was to watch the acting masterclass that i knew nanon and khaotung would deliver. I'm only 3 episodes in but im already bowled over.

Nanon especially. I don't know if there is any role that he can't do. he just becomes the role he is doing. It's virtually impossible to see nanon in the role he is playing.

This scene where he is hiding from prim. What shook me was just how much of childishness nanon was able to convey in this scene. He's playing a 15 year old after all. And he does an excellent job of it. Not at all in a forced caricature sorta way. In fact he was so convincing i had to replay several scenes multiple times. It was so very impressive.

And look at that. That's pining personified and you cant even see his face. He is just THAAAT good.

His body language, his micro-expressions, the delivery of dialogues, everything is just pure perfection.

Look at him absolutely nail the look of a lost hurt child who doesn't know who or what to turn to. He really has no business being this good!?!

I was in a bad mood when i was watching that episode. But Nanon is just so good at his job that by sheer force of his acting brilliance he turned my mood around.

His dimples helped for sure. of course.

i mean LOOK AT THEM.

This scene was especially fantastic. Really fun to watch.

But i meant something much more intangible.

You know that feeling when you feel better just by seeing certain works of art, a painting or a sketch, or if you're looking at the sky, or listening to a piece of music, just knowing that such beauty exists in the world by itself enough to lift you up?

Watching Nanon do his thing in this episode felt more or less like that!

Especially this scene that took my breath away.

How was he just 20 when he did this??? it's so mind blowing!

I'll never not be beyond grateful that i decided to watch bad buddy, cos 1. it gave me patpran and 2. it gave me nanon! one of the finest actors i have seen in my entire life. EVER. And he's just 22? I really can't wait to see what all he does over the course of his acting career!

Episode 3 follows the adventures of Khaotung's character "Songpol". I loved his story the most out of all 5 of them. No surprises here. How it's about an adult closeted gay man decides to stop suppressing his identity and live out a life he had denied himself all along. How he has known that he was gay for decades but because he hid that part, he still remains a sorta baby gay at the age of 55, and how this time/body reversal situation gives him a second chance at a more free life.

And while there were fewer opportunities for moments of acting brilliance, he did amazingly well in whatever there was.

And more importantly there wasn't a single second where he was on screen where my heart wasn't brimming with affection.

I especially am LOVING this gay uncle and supportive niece dynamic. We usually see it the other way around so loving this twist on the usual trope. Also khaotung does SO well in this scene where he is occupying his 15 yr old body but his facial expressions reveal the maturity of a 55 year old uncle of his niece who he is talking to.

Also LOVING the way he fanboys over "Jaya".

His devotion is so visible. It's unbelievably endearing. I would make a home for him in my pocket if i could.

Like that's MY baby. A whole cutie patootie.

And also he is SO so handsome i could just watch him just existing for hours.

Gorgeousness🤌

I'm so excited for him to be living out his happy dream gay life. He deserves it so much. Pining for decades and then finally going to confess and then finding out he has found somebody else yet again, just next level of pain. He needs his happy ending. And he better be getting it. I am really looking forward to it.

What i'm not looking forward to is how the multiple love triangles the show has already set up is going to blow up in everyone's faces. It's such an annoying trope. But ANYTHING for a show featuring Nanon and Khao. And for the most parts i am LOVING this show, hopefully i will love it till the end :')

[loriache]

D F and/or K for the ask game, if you're still doing it?

Thanks! I'm totally still doing it. :]

ask game

D - A pairing you wish you liked but just can’t.

Hmmm. If I want to like a pairing, I usually like it - I'm just that good. (⌐■_■)

I guess I wish that I was more passionate about some smaller femslash ships, I feel like niche yuri warriors are some of our strongest soldiers. I'd love to be hardcore into Cithis/Flamela, but instead I'm like, lightcore into them.

I suppose KB/MS is one that I kinda can't get into.... but I don't really wish I liked it. It doesn't seem to have a lot of the stuff that draws me to a pairing, usually. Oh, but if I was closer to neutral/positive there's a lot of art I've seen which I could enjoy more I guess?

D - What’s the longest you’ve ever been in a fandom?

Depends how you define "in". I mean, I've been a discworld fan since I was about 9, but not ever properly in the fandom. I'd say I was in homestuck fandom for most of my teens, if passively. And Dunmeshi is the first fandom where I've consistently engaged with other fans rather than occasionally dropping a single piece of art and lurking.... so arguably that's the longest? And I wasn't even keeping up with the manga for a while there, but I wrote my undergraduate dissertation on it in like 2019-2020, and had been reading for a bit before then. So if you call that my first bit of fan work you could say it's been like 5 years. That's a very generous estimate though, lmao.

K - What character has your favorite development arc/the best development arc?

Marcille without a doubt. I love Laios' arc very much, but it's a gentle and consistent growth arc where he slowly acquires the wisdom to handle the demon appropriately. Kabru's also has that wonderful moment of vulnerability and bravery, in seeking out his own desire - which is very beautiful.

But I just adore the arc from nightmare to Marcille becoming dungeon lord, this bit of negative character development where Laios accidentally pushes her towards denial and desperation, while at the same time she's also building up the foundations to step back from that edge when her friends call her. Then culminating with accepting Falin's death. It's good.

ask game

[snzysimper]

FINALLY!! I haven’t posted a fic in AGES. Apologies for that. This is probably the longest thing I’ve ever written. I’m really proud of how this turned out. It took me a while, but I hope it was well worth the wait for everyone. This is the re-write of this fic. I tried to keep it loyal to the original, but also make it better.

Note: I had everything italicized and shit, but tumblr is stupid and doesn’t keep it when it gets copy pasted from a google doc so I’ll go back and fix it later. For now, you can just use your imagination because I am to lazy to do it rn.

Another note: not that this really matters, but Security Breach doesn’t exist in my AU, so first of all, no ‘Burntrap’ and also no SB Vanessa. I much prefer the fan made version from Help Wanted, so that is who I use in my fics and such, but feel free to portray it however you like. She just looks better. Feel free to look at some fan art else where.

A Warm Surprise

A Will/iam x Van/ny Snz Fic

Written by SnzySimper

Word Count: 1950

TW: Spray, Snz (ofc), mentions of deceased children (only briefly)

| I am allowed to write what I want and I would appreciate if you keep whatever rude comments you may have to yourself |

It is about 11 o’clock at night. The pizzeria was far past closing, which was 8 o’clock. One would generally expect for the place to be empty. Isn’t that how this works anyway? Starting in only one hour, the haunted robots spring to life and, well, you know the rest. But, no, not right now. We are far beyond that point. Long story short, after the closing and re-opening, new animatronics were made, and the Fazbear brand was re-started after someone bought the name. As of the current moment, a new man owns the name brand. Well, not quite. After escaping his presumably eternal hell, William Afton put his consciousness inside of a game, making himself nothing but a piece of computer code. With the help of an innocent bystander, he was set free into the world again and, under a new name, bought his company back. Who’s his partner in crime, you may ask? A young woman named Vanessa, or Vanny, as William usually calls her. His little reluctant follower, although she has become less reluctant as time has gone by. In fact, she had become much less of a follower and more of a friend. The two did most everything together. Were they themselves together? Well, no. Not right now, anyway.

Sitting down on a table, Vanny looked over towards the animatronics. They were powered off, as they should be. She and ‘Dave’ planned to keep it that way. No more vengeful ten year olds wanting to damn your soul. And hopefully not ever again. He didn’t have any reason to make it happen again. He had obtained his immortality, so why would he need to kill more children. It’s not like he needs the remnant. She glances around the pizzeria, not used to it being so empty and quiet. No sounds of children giggling and screaming. No music. Only the hum from the air conditioner. A bit creepy and unsettling to most, but she had come quite accustomed to it. She found it almost peaceful. It was silent, and peaceful, and not a single sound to-

“-gGGes’SSHHhss!!”

Slightly startled at the broken silence, Vanny looks up. She was alone in the pizzeria, minus her ‘boss’. It had to have been him. Come to think of it, had she ever heard him sneeze before? Being a computer code, she didn’t really think he could sneeze. Oh well. Who cares? A sneeze is a sneeze. No skin off her teeth. She pulls out her phone, not paying it anymore mind. “Hh’gGG’shhh!!..’Ggsshh!” Well, this was certainly interesting. It was strange enough for this to happen once, granted that it had never happened before. But three times? Curious to what could possibly be happening, Vanny hops off of the table to go and find him. It was getting to be time to head home, so she should go and get him anyway.

~~~~

“Hhhh…”

Sitting at his desk, William breathes heavily. He was happy that the day was finally over. He could just go home and fall asleep on the sofa. He crosses his arms and lowers his head, about to fall asleep in the chair. In front of him are blueprints for trying to fix SpringBonnie. Trying. Although he may as well just start from scratch. The suit itself is beyond repair, but the internal parts, or at least the springlocks, could possibly be salvaged. It would take a good bit of effort though. As the AC turns on, he shivers, wrapping his arms tightly around his chest. Was it usually this cold in the pizzeria? Or maybe someone had just messed with the thermostat. Who knows. Giving William the benefit of the doubt, he is a TWIG. The average weight for someone who is 7’2 is around 230. William is 190. One could say that this is due to him not eating much. He doesn’t see a reason why he should. As we have previously established, he’s already immortal. It isn’t like he can starve. Although, the occasional meal is nice. He slowly raises and tilts his head back, his breath hitching slightly. “hhHh’GGschh!!” Damn. Why is he so cold? Wiping his nose on the back of his hand, he sighs. Was it possible he could- no. No, no. He’s a piece of computer code for crying out loud; barely even able to be classified as a human being at this point. Being sick is completely out of the question.

Right?

It had been a long day of listening to the same 6 songs on repeat, children's laughter, and, worst of all, the smell of shitty cheap pizza. He was more than ready to go home by now. Vanny walks in the room, softly knocking on the door. “Mr. Afton?” She walks up behind him, and gently places her hand on his shoulder. Having completely zoned out, he jumps at the touch of her hand. She jerks her hand back. “M-Mr. Afton-! I’m so sorry, did I wake you?” While they were ‘friends’, Vanny’s voice still trembled whenever addressing him. She knew all that he had done in the past, and was terrified of what he would be capable of doing now that he was immortal and essentially invincible. William, however, didn’t respond in his usual manner. “Vanessa,” he gives her a small weak smile. He doesn’t face her directly. He simply looks back at her using only his eyes. His piercing, icy blue eyes. “It’s nearly midnight.” She wrung her hands. “Shouldn’t we be leaving soon?”

“Yes. Worry not, we will be heading out soo-”

He abruptly stops speaking. He looks a bit dazed for a moment before quickly bringing his hand to his face, pinching his nose. “Ht’nnt-!” It is almost silent. “Ht’nxxt!! ‘nxxT -nnt!” And again. “hhHt’nkkt!!”

“Bless you,” Vanny says softly. He lets go of his nose, which is now a warm pink, and sniffles as he wipes his nose on the back of his hand. “Hhh, thank…thank you.” At last, he turns in his chair to face her. Vanny is worried by the sight of him. His cheeks are a touch of pink, and so does his nose, although his nose is a brighter shade. The parts of his face that aren’t flushed somehow look even more pale than they usually do. The dark circles under his eyes are more noticeable than normal. Tiny droplets of sweat are present on his forehead. Almost by instinct, she reaches up and gently presses the back of her hand against his forehead. “Mr Afton, you look awful. Are you feeling alright?” Realizing that she literally just reached up and touched his face without any sort of warning, she panics and quickly tries to jerk her hand away. Before she can fully pull her hand away, William reaches up and presses the palm of her hand against his cheek, sighing happily. Vanny blushes, shocked by the intimate gesture. He closes his eyes and lowers his head. He looks very happy to say the least. “Your hand,” he says quietly. “It feels really warm. It feels nice.”

“Your face is very warm, too. And not in a good way.” She lets him hold her hand and uses her other hand to feel his forehead again, now assuming that he doesn’t mind her touching his face. “You have a fever. I’m sure of it.” She removes her hand from his forehead and moves his hair so it isn’t covering his eyes. “Mmhm,” he hums in agreement, although she is quite sure that he isn’t paying all that much attention to what she is saying. She laughs softly. “Come on, let's go home.”

Vanny helps walk him into the house. Leaving her side, William walks away and flops face first onto the couch. He looks pretty comfortable. Vanny giggles. She isn’t used to seeing him so relaxed. Usually when he interacts with others, he lacks much emotion and is very curt. Any time someone tries to care for him or assist him with something non-work related, he snaps at them to leave him alone. With her he is usually a bit more friendly, but not much. Tonight, he had been everything but that. He even smiled at her. Vanny walks over to the couch and sits down next to him. William helps himself and rests his head on her lap. She lets out a small squeak, shocked at the fact that he is being so affectionate. She sighs and begins gently scratching his head. He smiles. “We should probably get some medicine for you.” William hums softly. “I’m fiiine.” He closes his eyes, sighing softly. Vanny sighs. “Alright. If you say so.” She didn’t want to challenge him on anything, so as not to take his gentle and chill attitude for granted.

They are silent for a good ten minutes before William starts sniffling. Vanny looks down at him. He is rubbing his face with the back of his hand, his nose clearly irritated. William eventually gives up, deciding that his efforts to relieve the itchy tickling sensation in his nose are fruitless. He looks adorable, Vanny thinks. She gently presses the tip of his nose with her index finger. “h’EHshhSS!” Vanny jumps slightly. “Oh. Bless you.”

“Mmm..what was thah for?” He grumbles sleepily. “Sorry. You just looked so cute. Your nose was twitching like a little bunny.” Vanny giggles. William rolls over to face up at her, his eyes still closed. “Could you..do it again?” She is a bit surprised, and pretty confused. “What, why would you want-”

“My nose..it’s still itchy. I need to sneeze. Please…” He opens his eyes looking up at her, his eyes practically begging for her to do something. Vanny can’t help but feel bad for him. “Alright.” She takes her thumb and index finger and begins gently rubbing the sides of his nose.He sniffles a few times as she continues to gently touch his nose. “I-is this helping? Is it working?” He sniffles once again. “Y-yeah, snff, sorta.” Vanny moves from the sides of his nose to the base, just below his nostrils. “Oh- hihh right sndff there..” She continues rubbing his nose, a bit harder this time. William’s breath is hitching. He tilts his head back, before inhaling sharply. “Hh’Gggshhs!! HGg’essh!! EH-shhiis! Ht’chh ‘chtt!!” He tries his best to avoid spraying Vanny, although he still gets her a little. Vanny lifts his head off of her lap. “I’ll be right back. I’m gonna go find some tissues.” She quickly rushes out of the living room to go and search for tissues.

William sits up, holding his nose shut as he continues to sneeze wetly. “hMP’tchh! Ht’CHH!! T’chh k‘chh -gSHH!!” Vanny comes back with a box of tissues and sits back down on the couch. She hugs William, leaning him back in her arms. She holds the box of tissues out in front of him. He quickly grabs one and holds it up to his face. “H’ppshh!! Hh’IISHH!!” He sighs, having been able to finally catch his breath. He rubs his nose with the tissue. His nose is revealed to be much more pink than it was before. He sniffles, draping his arms on Vanny’s shoulders, holding on to her like a sloth. He rests his head on her shoulder, closing his eyes. “ I’mb sorry sndDF for..snff sneezigg on you.” Vanny chuckles softly. “It’s alright. I don’t mind.” She rubs his head and begins playing with his hair. Laying down, she holds onto William and hugs him close. “Try and get some sleep, alright?” William hums in response. It isn’t long before she hears him softly snoring. She smiles, kissing the top of his head. “Sleep well, Mr. Afton.”