#in case its not clear this is a goof post its a joke

[watatsumiis]

have you ever wondered what is Wrong with the Fatui Harbingers? wonder no longer, because i have all the answers right here!

Arlecchino: lowkey a pervert

Capitano: lactose intolerant

Childe: sadomasochistic freak in public with no reservations

Columbina: Super obsessive, might be a yandere of sorts, we'll see

Dottore

Pantalone: hes high fantasy e/lon mu/sk

Pierro: arthritis

Pulcinella: just a little guy <3

Sandrone: likes her puppets more than she likes people

Scaramouche: mommy issues

Signora: shes too pretty and i perceive that as a threat

[flamboyant-king]

You know me. I like barely ever show any NOT SAFE FOR WORK drawings on here. So instead, I'm sharing drawings of my face AS I was drawing each NOT SAFE FOR WORK thing.

And the subject is right there, smack dab in the middle. Being tormented by the sins of the egg. (I drew him really cute but I can't share the rest.)

ALSO, I'd like to state that it's not corngraphic except like two maybe, it's more so like violent. We are all just having fun beating this guy up. Like, step right up and stomp on his face type shih. I never ever ever draw violent stuff, unless it's lewling related, so this is like cathartic.

This uhh feeling will fade after Halloween hopefully and we'll go back to our regularly scheduled wholesomeness and cammypus.

[bigskydreaming]

Doing some writing today off and on between errands and work, and jumping around various Kings of the Sky installments, specifically Dick, Jason and Cass stuff, so probably gonna post snippets from a bunch of them as I go. 

(Kings of the Sky is an AU that goes canon divergent from the point of Jason calling Dick for advice for dealing with Bruce after the Garzonas case and where things end up going dramatically different from that point on. Including Jason not dying, being part of his own lineup of Titans between Dick and Tim’s, Dick being adopted not long after the Church of Blood incident, Cass being the third Wayne kid to be taken in and adopted and with Tim and Duke being next and then Damian coming along later once they find out about him. This is basically my ‘the family’s alright’ AU with largely ‘Good Dad Bruce’ except for Dick and then Jason yelling some sense into him about the other, respectively, in the first two installments, just FYI).

Anyway, this bit is from a story called “In Their Shadows Grow Trees Of Good and Evil,” set about a year after Cass has been adopted, when she and Jason are both sixteen and Dick’s twenty-one. Also just FYI, because canon has never been specific about what ways Cass is neurodivergent due to the comic-book style ‘rewiring’ of her brain so that she could learn to speak later in life, I tend to go with her being dyslexic and having aphasia. She sticks exclusively to sign language and being a silent presence in her costumed personas, so that there’s no chance of people connecting the dots between Black Bat and Cassandra Wayne, as she mostly speaks verbally in her civilian persona and doesn’t hide her aphasia. The reason there’s not likely to be any obvious signs of aphasia in the snippets of her I post is because I wait until I complete something to choose words at random to replace with aphasia-born mixups, so its more realistic and I’m not gearing her dialogue towards deliberately placed moments. Just in case you were wondering.

In Their Shadows Grow Trees of Good and Evil

“Hey Todd,” sneered an exquisitely obnoxious voice. “Why’s your sister so fucking weird?”

Jason sighed the sigh of a soul a mere century into its eternity of damnation as he rose from the lunch table he’d been studying at and crammed the rest of his books into his backpack. Then he pasted a cheerfully bland smile on his face and turned around, geared for academia warfare (teenage prep school edition).

“Hey Craig,” he said brightly. “Why’d you come out of the womb so ugly your parents had to tie a piece of steak around your neck just to get the family dog to go near you? Mysteries abound.”

The advancing junior slowed a step, momentarily rocked by his truly impressive return volley. The grimace Craig’s already gargoyle-esque features twisted into made his face even more unpleasant to look at than usual, which was quite the feat. Jason would have applauded if just looking at it hadn’t already turned him to stone.

But the bargain basement basilisk kept on towards him rather than turn tail and skulk off to pop his emotional blisters, so Jason sighed a sequel to his first one. Looked like it was one of those days where Craig felt up to powering through. Guess someone had eaten their self-esteem Wheaties that morning. Joy.

“You think you’re pretty hot shit, don’t you, Todd?”

Jason shrugged. “I mean, to be honest I kinda have a one track mind, so right now I’m mostly just thinking about punching you in your mistake.”

“My what?”

“Your face,” Jason elaborated with exaggerated patience.

“Huh?”

“Oh my god, I’m saying your face is a mistake. See, its not as fun when I have to stop and explain it to you. Ugh, you ruin everything.”

He neatly sidestepped the older boy as R2-Dumbass stayed frozen, smoke coming off of his internal CPU while trying to catch up. For a second Jason thought he was home free, but then he remembered the universe fucking hated him so haha, sucks to suck. Also, a small crowd had gathered to witness the verbal jousting match, and nothing invigorated an asshole like Craig more than an audience of like-minded peers. So there was that too.

“Whatever. Laugh it up all you want, you little shit,” the junior rallied. “But just remember, mocking your betters will never change the fact that you were born street trash and you’ll be street trash until the day you die.”

Honestly? Not his best effort. Jason almost felt bad using any of his good material. Seemed like overkill at this point. But he did have a strict Scorched Earth policy to maintain, so.....

“Yeah but my dad could buy out and ruin your dad so that means I still win, right?”

He smirked as the barb landed and Craig’s face set into a sunset vista of strangled purple and furious red. Bam. Direct hit.

“Listen, you - “

“Oh for fuck’s sake, it was rhetorical,” Jason interrupted. “I don’t actually care what you think even a little bit. Nobody does. You don’t matter. Please go be irrelevant elsewhere, you’re fucking dismissed, you loser.”

“Speak for yourself, charity case.” Oh goodie, Craig’s backup singers had finally arrived. Now if only he could remember to care enough to learn their names in the first place. Seriously, who told the extras they could have lines? “All the jokes in the world can’t change who and what you are.”

Jason shrugged and continued nonchalantly up the hill to where his sister was standing with arms crossed, staring down at something on the other side.

“True genius is never appreciated in its own time,” he tossed back over his shoulder. “I’m sure I’ll be immortalized in song eventually.”

The mob of morons deigned to let him go without further incident. Though he suspected that had less to do with his scathing wit and more to do with him being headed towards Cass. She was immaculately presented as always, wearing the Gotham Academy uniform like she was born to it despite hating its uncomfortable stiffness every bit as much as he did. But that was just Cass for you. 

For all that she still struggled at times to engage verbally or speak up in social settings, her mastery of body language remained without peer. She could chameleon-camouflage her way into matching poise and posture with anyone - a skill that had allowed her to walk into school on her very first day with her head held high as though she owned everything in her sight. Exuding so much Queen Bee Intimidation Factor even the other hive queens were afraid to approach her  themselves. Sending forth their drones to try and woo her into an alliance, only to see her remain oh-so-casually above it all, a slightly contemptuous smile adorning her lips.

Basically, she scared the shit out of their classmates without them having anywhere close to a true understanding of why, and Jason was outrageously jealous. Rude. Unfair. Why did his siblings always get all the cool toys when all he had was his rakish charm, scintillating intellect and debonair.....nah, who was he kidding. He was fucking awesome. 

“Sup, sis,” he said, cresting the hill to stand beside Cass. “Just FYI, I just took a popularity bullet for you, which means you owe me your dessert tonight. Its a family rule that’s totally a real thing and definitely not something I just made up right now because Alf is making chocolate soufflé.”

She made no acknowledgment and remained stock still, a Colossus at Rhodes peering down into the shifting shadows of the parking lot below.

He peered down as well, though with absolutely no idea what they were looking at. Solidarity, yo.

“So are we staring fixedly at anything in particular, or should I just pick my own spot and commit?”

His humor was totally wasted on her as always. Instead of laughing and telling him what a lovable goof he was, she just inclined her head in the direction of a blonde girl where she was standing next to the driver’s side door of a Mercedes-Benz, dictating final commandments to her peons before departing. Well, probably. Jason was just guessing, based on his own body language reads, and like, general disdain for literally everyone at this school that wasn’t related to him.

He made a face. An extra special one reserved just for this classmate in particular. “Ugh, Madison Dunleavy? She’s the worst.”

Cass raised a cool eyebrow. “I thought Craig Hendricks was the worst.”

“He is. They’re both the worst. Its a hotly contested position here at Gotham Academy.”

She rolled her eyes and nodded back down at the Queen of Air and Darkness. “So. You know her?”

“Nope,” Jason said. “Come to think of it, I’ve actually never seen her in my life. No idea who that is. Can’t help you, sorry. Shall we go home?”

The Eyebrow of Inquisition speared him with clear intent. Who the fuck needed words when you could pack the Encyclopedia Britannica into a single facial expression?

Jason sighed gustily. 

“I had a slight altercation with her freshman year that led to her declaring her undying enmity for me until the end of time. The word nemesis may or may not have been thrown around once or twice. I can’t recall.”

The Eyebrow of Inquisition lowered nary an inch. Ugh, she wanted more? Why did everyone in his family hate privacy, with the obvious exclusion of himself when snooping through Cass and Dick’s rooms for blackmail material, which was actually intel-gathering and thus another matter entirely.

“Okay so basically what happened was my first week here I overheard her talking shit about me and not even twenty minutes later she was pretending to kiss my ass in homeroom, like probably because of Bruce, y’know? So I just busted out laughing and told her to fuck off and die and she has inexplicably loathed me ever since.”

Avoiding further Eyebrow Inquisition-ing, he made a show of peering around aimlessly. When the silence extended and it was clear Cass was absolutely not going to break first, Jason waved a hand in dismissal and took to peering oh so casually at his fingernails. "I suppose I was less tactful back in those days.”

He chanced a look up, finally, and saw his sister’s eyebrow had somehow managed to mighty morphin power ranger its way into a configuration evoking both judgment and disbelief, with the latter perhaps aimed at the idea he was significantly differing in the tact department these days either.

“I don’t love the implications your face is making right now,” he told her.

She ignored him, because of course she did. 

“Does she know Dick?” She asked instead. Jason shrugged.

“I mean, maybe? She’s probably seen him around at one of those stupid galas we have to go to, and actually I think maybe she has an older brother who was either in Dick’s grade or like, one above or below it? I don’t know.”

Now both eyebrows were doing the dance of disbelief. Okay, so maybe that was poor situational awareness on his part, since it wasn’t like Gotham Academy was a big school with a ton of other kids and also he’d only been in the same class as Madison for like over two whole years, but whatever. There were extingent circumstances.

“Look, she’s a total snob who’s always looked down on me and in return I willfully ignore both her existence and that of everyone and everything even tangentially related to her. Its called equality, Cass.”

She pursed her lips and went back to the peering, because of course in the mind of Cass it made total sense that the Grand Inquisition didn’t need to be followed up by any explanation on her part, what the hell. Like was he supposed to have inferred it?

“What’s this all about anyway?”

“I heard her talking about Dick earlier,” she said without peeling her eyes away from her personal recon mission. “I don’t know what she said though, I just heard her say Grayson, and then I was busy looking at what her body was saying. I know it was about Dick because she shut down when she saw me. And I didn’t like the way she....looked....before that happened. The way she was talking. It was.....”

Jason frowned but held back any follow-up questions while he waited - with total patience because he wasn’t an absolute cad, thank you very much - for his sister to find the word she was hunting for. It was a major source of frustration for her, that whatever neural map her brain followed put body language and spoken language in totally different regions of her brain, separated by a fairly great divide. Meaning she usually had to make a conscious choice to focus on body language or conventional languages - whether verbal or sign. But it tended to be one or the other; she’d yet to master taking in and comprehending both forms of ‘language’ at the same time. And none of them had quite figured out how to convince her that she wasn’t actually missing anything when she chose to focus on one specific form of communication - that she was still observing far more than most people ever would.

“Proprietary,” Cass settled on at last. She nodded her satisfaction with her choice of word, and Jason waited a whole two point five seconds before sticking  his whole foot in his mouth.

“Proprietary?” He asked with a scrunched nose as he weighed that for possible context and implications. “You sure?”

She glared. He winced. It was a whole thing.

“Yeah, I know, sorry, sorry, I heard it the second it was out of my mouth. We don’t actually have to experiment with the legitimacy of if looks could kill.”

Cass rolled her eyes, but eh. That could’ve gone worse.

Jason swiftly redirected attention anyway. Discretion is the better part of valor, after all.

“So. The Queen of Air and Darkness was talking about our big bro, and her mood was.....proprietary, huh?” He recapped while digesting the info like a boss. “Well. Definitely not loving that, I gotta say. Hold please.”

Pulling out his phone and pulling up his most recent texts, he began typing furiously.

“What are you doing?” Cass asked.

“Texting Tom,” he replied, because duh. Hah, now it was his chance to have the answers that should be patently obvious and thus make with the ‘are you kidding me’ when she asked obvious questions she should know the answer to! How do you like them apples, sis?

“Why are you texting your boyfriend right now?”

Jason rolled his eyes, because fair is fair, but never ceased texting for a moment. Time was of the essence here, probably. Well, maybe. Okay probably not. But it’d still been like half an hour since he and Tom had last texted and that’s a very fucking long time in teenage years.

“To be our getaway driver tonight, obviously.”

She stared at him. He didn’t look up, but he could feel it anyway. He was very intuitive like that.

“What?”

Jason heaved another sigh, one keyed to tones of ‘oh my god, do I really have to spell this out,” exasperation. He was just racking up the bonus points here. It was really too bad this wasn’t an actual competition he could actually win and this was all just pettiness taking place wholly in his own head. Lame. 

“Well, clearly we now have to go snoop in Madison’s house aka lair to see if its actually a house or a full on lair. Because she’s either a creeper or like, legit evil, and its important to know which one before we proceed, because obviously we can only bust her for being a weird creeper about our brother as Jason and Cass, whereas if she’s legit evil, that’s gotta go down as Robin and Black Bat. I’ll handle the snooping, you’ll take look-out, but we still need a wheelman and that’s why I’m texting Tom. This is all very mission-oriented, okay. I’m a professional.”

“Right,” she affirmed, while sounding anything but convinced. “Why don’t we just tell Bruce?”

Without looking up or breaking stride, he said: “I’m going to give you til I finish typing this sentence to figure out what was wrong with what you just said. Remember that we are talking about hypothetical danger to our brother, and also Bruce’s idea of a proportionate response to any of his children being in even hypothetical danger. And also our brother’s idea of a proportionate response to Bruce’s idea of a proportionate response. Look, you’re still new so I’m gonna need you to just trust me on this one. Its gonna be a no on telling Bruce without further intel.”

Cass said nothing in response to that, which meant that she was conceding the point and recognized the wisdom of his words. Or maybe that she was just gonna go ahead and do what she wanted anyway and just wasn’t bothering to fight about it, but it was probably that first thing.

“Well you better not just make out with your boyfriend all night,” is what she said at last, and that got his attention reeeeeal quick like.

“Umm. Wow. Okay. So, first off, you’re not the boss of me and who I make out with and when, so jot that down. And second, now I’m definitely going to make out with my boyfriend extra hard, with the exception of when we are actually on our recon mission because as previously established, I am a professional. And also, again, you’re not the boss of me.”

Jason ignored her Eye Roll With Extra Emphasis, and instead just held up his phone to Text With Extra Emphasis, as he read along with what he was typing.

“By the way babe, we have to make out extra hard tonight,” he said, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth while he dragged out his dictation with the kind of focus that usually led to Bruce asking why he couldn’t apply as much intensity to training as he did to pettiness. “Cass has suddenly decided she can dictate terms to me and I need to shut that shit down ASAP, so thank you in advance for your assistance in this matter. Smoochies and other gay stuff to the best boyfriend ever.”

Jason frowned as a response pinged back seconds later. 

TheCatsMeow: ....the things I put up with for the sake of your weird family dynamics.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: Yeah, yeah. You’re a saint among were-panthers. Must you mock? Why can’t you just tell me I’m pretty instead?

TheCatsMeow: Sorry. Let me try again. OMG you’re so pretty Jase how did I get so lucky xoxo.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: No. Its too late. It feels forced and unbelievable now. You’ve ruined it forever.

TheCatsMeow: Got it. From now on I will only tell you that you’re repulsive and hideous.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: I’m breaking up with you.

TheCatsMeow: But after I help you with your mission tonight.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: Obvsly. I’m a professional. Why do people keep forgetting this?

TheCatsMeow: And also the making out to spite your sister.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: Yeah we should do that first too. I mean we already penciled it in.

[algernoninwonderland]

Hello, I was wondering how you feel about the "Cat Blanc" ML episode? It thought it strange for reasons I can't really articulate so I was hoping to read your thoughts. I am not that good at analysis but I love your episode reviews. They are very insightful and usual help me understand why I liked/didn't like a certain episode.

A belated review/analysis of Chat Blanc! Here we go!

So, Chat Blanc… It wasn't all that great, now, was it?

The good:

Gabriel's motives are made crystal clear once more, which makes his pushing them to their very limits all the more shocking. The Agreste family vault looks impressive, almost church-like, it's some pretty strong imagery. Not outstandingly original but pretty good stuff nevertheless.

Angry Rose is funny.

Marinette's “Know what I won't take for an answer?” and a smash cut to Nathalie's “No.” That's good comedy.

Ladybug goofing around in the Burrow. It's harmless, she's a kid, these different points in time look interesting.

Chat Blanc's future looks eery and white and blue and it really works, we rarely see post-apocalyptic landscapes like this one, usually it's all muddy and dark and this isn't the case here. I appreciate that. The first wide shot in which the camera spins around Montparnasse tower is great.

Chat Blanc's animation is really creepy and for the most part, it's intentional.

if you’re a sucker for mid 2000s evil sadboys aesthetics, you’ll love this.

Have a montage of Adrienette being sickeningly cute.

I’m watching this in French and let me tell you, Benjamin Bollen might have to work with terrible lines but he’s doing a damn fine job with them

That shot in which the debris and Ladybug break the water’s surface, the bubbles and all… It looks great. I don’t know who is in charge of this but it looked genuinely great.

Chat Noir’s akumatisation and his trying to control his power and not hurt anybody is pretty great, as a concept.

The final scene is a nice parallel to the one earlier in the episode. Repetition with variation is an easy way to make me like things and it works nicely.

The bad:

The Girl Squad bullying Marinette is… Eh.

Stalkerish obsessed Marinette is a joke that overstayed its welcome by that point. Had this been an early season 2 joke, it would have worked. It's a late season 3 joke, it's honestly a bit creepy at this point.

That reveal is fanfic-worthy. It feels really light, and not as big a deal as would have been the case if that episode had any consequences. You can already tell this'll be retconned by the end of the episode.

Bunnyx's burrow. It's unimpressive. It's neither bizarre enough nor flashy enough to really work for me. And that TARDIS joke made me roll my eyes.

If you hate mid 2000s evil sadboys aesthetics, you’ll hate this.

They re-use the same two cars for Ladybug to jump on and it’s pretty obvious. There are smart ways of recycling assets. This isn’t one of them.

Wow, that’s a terrible first kiss, the shot is… Pretty bad.

Gabriel being an asshole and breaking Adrienette up for the stupidest, most selfish reasons feels unfair and that’s the point… But also that scene at the bakery is pretty lame, it doesn’t flow very well, the characters are oddly static and not expressive enough for it to be striking, the lighting doesn’t work with the mood of the scene at all. It feels abrupt, yes, but also cheap.

“It was our love that did this to the world milady.” What a stupid, edgy line.

Bad low-res textures being stretched are clearly visible in quite an awful lot of shots.

Wow. Destroyed Paris is the exact same city as usual, just as empty, only this time they replaced the sky with a “water surface” animation loop. It’s… Underwhelming. You had a great concept and this is what you do with it?

Can you believe they made destruction on a cosmic scale look so bland? How do you mess up that bad?

That confrontation between Hawk Moth and our heroes. This should be season finale material. It’s considerably cheapened.

The ugly:

With the few exceptions listed above, the rendering is not good at all, the lighting is flat and inexpressive which could give everything a kind of otherworldly feel if only used in some sequences (and that would be clever!)… Only it's off, all of the time. Chat Blanc is the only character that looks okay in his timeline.

The animation is off when it shouldn't be, outside of the exception listed earlier. Everything is much too stiff, characters' expressions are off, the timing is off. It's a shame, really. The action sequences are decently boarded but look pretty bad.

“Just because I know her secret identity doesn't mean she has to know about mine.” That's a terrible line. And we're supposed to be rooting for that kid. That's not how healthy relationships work, the episode never addresses that because Adrien is perfect, he's just sad and understandably troubled by these revelations.

Do you remember when Gabriel was shown to care for his son, the complex character drama that could have arisen from that? Well it sure as hell ain’t there.

That Guy boarded that episode. He has a weird, err, fixation on a 14yo girl’s butt and makes sure to include a shot in which it is shoved at the viewers’ faces. Seriously? What is wrong with you? If you so badly want to sexualise characters, it’s not like there aren’t any adults in Miraculous.

Perfectly good ideas are skimmed over in a matter of seconds because this episode is only 22 minutes long. The audience is bombarded with pretty major turning points in a matter of seconds and can barely process any of them.

If the point of your episode is, “it’s better if it doesn’t exist” then you obviously shouldn’t be making this episode… Right? Seems pretty obvious to me, but apparently it isn’t since Chat Blanc exists.

That end card has Hawk Moth look like he’s rolling his eyes and so was I by the end of this episode. The overwhelming feeling of all of this for nothing but the reassertion that these two are “made for each other” which, yawn.

Perfectly good ideas wasted on an episode with mediocre writing and bad animation and rendering.

It's a pretty forgettable episode, funnily enough, I had to rewatch it to be able to write this review.

Hope this helped, Anon! Thanks for the compliment!

[nellied-reviews]

Succulent Rat-Killing Tar Re-listen

Hey! So, I’m new here, but I’ve recently been re-listening to the podcast Wolf 359, and I'm obsessed again, so I kinda wanted, in true Self-Indulgent fashion, to record my thoughts about it, see what stands out now I know how the series plays out. I don’t know if anyone will actually want to read this, but I enjoyed writing it, at least!

If any of you don’t know Wolf 359, but are still, for whatever reason, reading this, a) you should go listen! It’s a sci-fi podcast with some awesome characters, and a really great balance of creepiness, wackiness and actual plot. But also, b) I will be posting spoilers here, sorry. It’s been a while, so I think they’re pretty much fair game now? But just so you’re not caught out: here be spoilers.

With that cleared up, then:

Succulent Rat-Killing Tar

In which we meet the disaster that is Douglas Eiffel, Hilbert blows things up, and the Hephaestus receive a strange transmission from deep space.

In some ways, re-listening to this episode was an odd experience, because the characters don’t quite feel solid yet. It’s the same in a few early episodes - tonally, they’re just really different to a lot of what comes later - and I don't think that’s bad, per se, especially since there are things, on a re-listen, that connect this to later episodes. But this episode is particularly weird, I think, even for the early episodes. 

Gabriel Urbina actually talked about this in the writing notes he posted to his Tumblr, how he conceived of Wolf 359 as a one-man show, and  what we get here is basically the Doug Eiffel! Show, with what are essentially cameo appearances from the others. As a consequence of this, Minkowski, Hera and Hilbert don’t get much characterisation, and even things like their voices seem ... odd? Hera, especially, feels more like Space Siri than the snarky AI we know and love, while Minkowski... eh, I don’t know why I don't like her here, but I remember not liking her when I first listened to it either. I think she sounds kind of flat, like she's not quite a real person?

 It’s probably good, then, that Eiffel comes onto the scene fully formed and really freakin' funny. Zach Valenti is a funny man, and he kills it here, from the very first lines. I particularly love how much information he gets into his opening monologue. He takes what looks, superficially, like a lazily-written infodump - because seriously, who would start their log like that on day 448? Does Eiffel open every single log like this?! - and just runs with it. It's such a ludicrous thing to do, and the whole reason I buy that yes, Eiffel totally does just sit there every single night talking to himself, is Zach Valenti’s performance. It's so good, guys, seriously!

On a side-note, I am also endlessly amused at the way in which Eiffel’s utterly bonkers decision to narrate his boring chores like an exposition-heavy radio show gives the Dear Listeners ammo later on. Like, if Eiffel were not such a fundamentally ridiculous character, they would not have his voice to contact the crew. So much of the plot just hinges on Eiffel being a dumbass, and I can respect that.

Besides the fact that he’s this weird, lovable dumbass, we do also get some nice character moments for Eiffel. For one, it’s buried under a lot of funny stuff, but we get our first hints at him having an addictive personality - his love of cigarettes certainly hits differently when you know about his past with alcohol.

There are also, sticking to things I picked up the first time round, hints that Eiffel is perhaps more competent than he lets on? Certainly, he kicks into a different gear when the transmissions come through - the goofing around stops straight away, and he genuinely seems keen to make contact. I like that, I think.

That said, he blows his moment of competence by ignoring the signal and getting coffee. For such a pop culture-savvy guy, he sure falls hard into the "I’m sure it was nothing" trap here. Ugh, Eiffel. Come on. You’re better than this.

I’m not complaining, though, because it does give us time to listen to Alan Rodi's beautiful music. Words cannot convey how much I love it. I don’t know if it's just nostalgia from last time I listened to Wolf 359, but hearing the music again here nearly made me cry, genuinely. I especially love the acoustic piano. I think it'd be easy to go with a technological, electronic sound for a podcast set in space, so the choice to use a more traditional, old-fashioned instrument like a piano is a pleasant surprise, grounding the show in something older and more Earth-bound, and providing the same kind of connection to Earth history and culture that the old music does at the end. You've got electronic bleeping going on, sure, which adds a layer of space-y weirdness to it all. But it's still, underneath the noises, something lovely and comforting and nice. So congrats, Alan Rodi. You made a 30 second coffee break into something really beautiful.

Then we're back and Minkowski has Eiffel reading Pryce and Carter - another mainstay of the show being introduced right there - and then Hilbert's lab is on fire. This whole section is solidly funny, and I especially love the tone of the Pryce and Carter entries. From the muzak in the background, to the disturbing, sort-of-aphoristic style of the entries, which kind of feel like something from Welcome to Night Vale, to the fact that this book seems to have no structure and is just one giant, non-user-friendly list, everything about this is hilarious to me. I also noticed the reference to the idea that somebody might be in space for disciplinary reasons. Which totally won’t be relevant later. Nope. Definitely not.

Hilbert, although his voice is much less growly than I’m used to, feels closer to his later self, character-wise, than the others. He’s maybe a bit too dotty, but then again, literally everything he does during this season is a front anyway, so I'm willing to give that one a pass. Stuff blowing up is always fun, either way, and it also introduces another idea that will stick around: the idea that everything on the Hephaestus is either broken or is about to break. Mentions of a power outage last week, in particular, suggest that this ship is already... less than shipshape.

And the we get the episode's climax, the arrival of the alien message which turns out to be... an old transmission of The Entertainer, by Scott Joplin?

And look, I think this was what sold me on Wolf 359. Sure, it took a while to find it's feet. But this moment was what convinced me that hey, I'll hang around a bit longer. Because it’s such a smart choice. 

Already, by having an audio drama series whose main character is a communications officer, and whose plot centres round him using radios and making audio logs, you have the ingredients for an intensely self-reflective, metatextually interesting show. It makes us think about radio and broadcasting and how sounds are transmitted through space. 

But by using a real recording of The Entertainer, something from the very earliest age of radio, with its gramophone-y crackle, you’re widening the scope, linking us all the way back to the birth of recorded sound. And Eiffel's joy at it all, his glee at finding a connection back to Earth, is a reminder of the power recorded sound can have. Eiffel, listening to Scott Joplin, is transported somewhere new and intriguing. Meanwhile we, listening to some podcast about stars and toothpaste and spacefaring dumbasses, are also transported away from our lives and our world. It’s a lovely idea.

Of course, I could be reading too much into this. It could just be that the piece is out of copyright, and hits the right balance of strange vs. familiar.

Either way, it makes for an ending that’s beautiful, wholesome and surprisingly sweet. I’m charmed, particularly, by how earnest Eiffel seems when he’s talking about how the music makes him feel. After spending a whole episode goofing around, it’s a refreshing change of pace, and it made me smile the first time I listened to it. This time round, it feels a bit more bittersweet, I think. We know that Eiffel won't be going home for a good, long time, after all.

In any case, it's a solid end to an episode that, while it has its issues, still mostly holds up. A surprising amount of plot-relevant stuff is established. Eiffel, at least, is properly introduced. And I get weirdly emotional about radio shows. Nice job, Wolf 359.

 Miscellaneous thoughts:

Eiffel not understanding Hilbert when Zach Valenti voices them both is peak comedy and you can fight me on this

 Eiffel joking about everyone on the ship have “series trust issues”. You ain’t seen nothing yet, hun.

The noises they made for Eiffel slurping coffee are so gross and childish I love them

Ooh, when he’s mocking Minkowski, Eiffel pronounces her name right!

Eiffel calling Hera “sweetheart” ^-^

Hilbert passing the explosion off as a hairdryer omg

[boysfile]

▸ pairing: daehwi x reader.

▸ genre: best friends to lovers au. fluff.

▸ warnings: none.

▸ word count: 1.8k

✎ — synopsis: you lost your textbook and the only person you can borrow one from was your best friend. but you got bored in class and starts doodling all over his book.

✎ — a/n: so this is my first actual? fic post on tumblr uwu. tbh i was pretty intimidated by a lot of things while writing this but i thoroughly enjoyed the process so i hope you like it!

panic. panic was the only thing you felt. you paced around your room, desperately trying to find your chemistry textbook, but to no avail. 

the first thing you thought of was to phone your best friend, who you didn’t know if it was lucky or not that he was in a different class from you.

unlucky because you can’t goof around in class.

lucky because now you can scream for his help.

after much persuasion, he agreed. on a condition that his textbook returns to him with zero alternations. which meant no ripped pages or corners, no highlighting or pencil marks, and no spilling of coffee.

you swiftly agreed to his conditions and gave him a virtual hug through your phone screen. quickly, you packed your bag, glad that the frenzied search for your chemistry textbook is over.. for now.

when you arrived at the school, daehwi was already waiting for you at your locker, arms hugging the 5 kilograms worth of paper. you walked over to him, held out your arms, and wrapped him in a big hug. thanking him for letting you borrow his textbook. 

you hurriedly rushed to your chemistry classroom as the class had already started. the professor wrote a reference page on the board and you quickly opened daehwi’s textbook to find the page. 

upon finding the passage, you took notice of how neat and clean your best friend’s book was. nothing was out of place; pencil marks and highlighted sentences. ruler-lined tables and scaled diagrams. every single thing was for the benefit of his study. 

you looked back up at the professor, he was talking about something to do with acids and alkaline. you have no interest in chemistry, only taking it as your parents have told you to. 

basically. class was boring.

so you instinctively whipped out your pencil case, grabbed your favourite pencil, and started doodling on daehwi’s book; already forgetting about the initial promise. various small images started to decorate the white spots on the page, slowly being filled with pencil sketches of unicorns, dinosaurs, flowers and even slices of cake. as you giggled at your failed drawing of a penguin, the bell rang, signalling the end of the period.

you slowly walked to the cafeteria, hoping to avoid the crowds who were pining for the last melon bun. it’s always hellish when recess starts, students and staff alike rushing to the cafe hoping to get a single muffin. 

you went to your usual table, hand still holding daehwi’s textbook. you took out your phone, wanting to call him to tell him where you were. but before you could hit dial, you felt a gentle tug on your ponytail. you turned around and there he was. smiling at you like you were the sun itself. you could feel your cheek burn crimson from the mischievous gesture, clearing your throat, you looked at daehwi. with a playful glint in your eyes before shutting them and crossing your arms.

“you shouldn’t do that to a lady you know.” upon hearing this. daehwi froze in his spot, hoping he didn’t offend you. you looked at his stance through your eyelashes, seeing how tense he was, you relaxed your expression and chuckled. daehwi took this as a sign that he was in the clear. 

“daehwi. you didn’t do anything wrong, i was just joking with you.” you sighed out, still amazed at how seemingly wonderful your acting skills were. maybe you should consider dropping chemistry and take drama instead. 

“okay good. i genuinely thought you would dislike me…” he mumbled the last part under his breath, hoping you wouldn’t catch it. but little did he know, you have perfect hearing. so you did hear everything he said and you felt your blood rushing to your face once again. 

after a short period of silence. you looked back at the book that was still in your arms, completely forgetting the reason why you had planned to phone him in the first place. so you awkwardly stood in front of daehwi and handed him the textbook. honestly speaking, this scene felt like the cliched love letter scene. except its a chemistry textbook and not a confession letter. 

seemingly lost in thought, daehwi was slightly shocked at the sudden movement from you, only to reveal his chemistry textbook in your hands. 

after seeing his reaction to your seems-like-a-love-confession-but-its-not attempt at returning his textbook, you couldn’t hold it in anymore and started laughing out loud. scaring an already frightened daehwi.

“um.. y/n..? is there something wrong? are you okay?” your laugh continues to escape from your lungs, though you wanted to hold it in. 

“no. i’m.. fine.. totally. yeah, i’m fine.” you said through your obnoxiously loud laugh.

you then looked at daehwi again, your gaze asking him why he isn’t taking his textbook back telepathically. and he understood you, so he walked closer to you and took the weight off your arms. 

you sighed in contempt, before uttering a small “finally”. after that, you both parted ways, going back to your designated classrooms. him to chemistry and you to maths. 

little did you know. after daehwi sat in his classroom, the first thing he did was open the book. 

and he was shocked. 

no it wasn't because of the amount of doodles that covered the white spots of the paper. but rather, the subject of these doodles. he looked through his use-to-be-pristine textbook and compared it to whatever it was now. nothing but clean. every white space he could find, he would see one of your pencil doodles. unicorns, ice-cream cones, rainbows, dolphins, and even penguins were sprawled out on his book. a new universe on each page. he knew you had always kept your childish side inside yourself, not willing to let it go nor show it to others. it might be weird, but he felt proud knowing you trusted him enough to doodle all over his textbook. 

he smiled to himself. he liked it. he liked how deep you were willing to let him in, how much you trusted him. he liked how your eyes sparkle looking at waffles, he liked how a slight brush of your hand against his would send his heart flying out of him, and most importantly, he loved how oblivious you were to his obvious crush on you. 

daehwi wants to tell you. he really wanted to be able to just man up and confess how he truly feels, but his brain always find ways to stop him from doing so. multiple times he was so close, but he couldn't. and he regretted it, so so much. 

now, the both of you are stuck in the same relationship of "best friends". everyone around you could see how in love both of you were. you don't show it as much, but it's pretty obvious how head over heels daehwi is for you. 

he let out a sigh, looking back at the bulk of paper in front of him. the class continues as usual, not understanding the running contradictions inside daehwi's head as he sat in his spot, flicking through the pages to study your adorable additions to his once boring book. 

class went by quickly while he was looking at your markings on the paper and he quickly packed up when the bell rang. he had the widest grin on his face and he couldn't wipe it off. not that he was complaining. 

you noticed daehwi walk out of his classroom, and naturally, you waited for him to slowly make his way towards you. you glanced at him, not wanting him to see you eyeing him. it wasn't unusual for him to be bubbly and happy, but you've never seen such a wide and genuine grin plastered on his face before. you felt a little sad, not knowing you were the reason for his smile. 

"y/n."

you slightly flinched at his voice, it was gentle but demanding at the same time. you slowly turned around in an almost cartoon way, he saw your hesitation and smiled at you, letting you know that he was not angry.

"i really wish you would tell me that you liked doodling. and its ice-cream and unicorns and rainbows too..." you casted your gaze towards the floor, slightly ashamed at your choice of subject. but daehwi wasn't mad at you, he was far from that. he was enchanted by how your heart held on to these fantasies and lively colors, unlike his which was black and white until you came into his life. 

"i'm sorry..." your voice was barely above a whisper. daehwi continued to silently gaze at you, not saying a single thing. you looked up at him, eyes glazed over with forming tears. immediately, that sent daehwi into a panic. he rushed to you, trapping you in a bear hug. 

"shh... don't cry. i don't want to see you cry. i only ever want to see you smile." daehwi whispered in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. daehwi slightly parted from you, creating some space in between the two of you, and moved his hand up to caress your face to look into your glossy round orbs. he could see his reflection in your eyes and he saw how worried he looked. well, what can he say? he is worried. 

he cleared his throat to hopefully gain some confidence in what he was about to do. you noticed his not-so-usual actions and looked up at him, arms still wrapped around his waist, waiting for him to say something.

"y/n? can you listen to me for a moment?" you nodded your head and hummed, hoping that it would help him get whatever he wanted to say out of him. daehwi took another deep breath, threading his fingers in your hair, and opened his mouth to speak his mind.

"the little drawings you did in my textbook is still totally uncalled for." you looked at him in the eyes, pretending to be offended by his words. he gave you a look and you retreated back into your right of course, we made a deal whoops expression. 

after a couple of seconds had gone by again, daehwi continued his unfinished statement. "but i loved it, just like how i love you." he said the second part in the tiniest font and you looked at him, shocked that this kind of cheesiness came out of his mouth. at this, you felt your face heating up again as small droplets of water rolled down your cheeks. before daehwi could even open his mouth to ask what happened, you got onto your toes and pecked him on the lips. 

"i love you too, daehwi."

daehwi was visibly flushed at the sudden contact, but he recovered quickly, pulling you close once again to indulge in your hug. the both of you had completely forgotten that you were in the middle of the school cafeteria as loud cheers were heard, shocking you as they congratulated the new couple.

✎ — masterlist

[vinyl-bf]

just wanna interject that the entire neo-nazi pewdiepie thing is false, the channel isn't actually a nazi channel, its a critique channel that makes a few edgy jokes

hey.....hey anon? did you even watch the video on the post i linked? that you know. was a clip from an unedited LIVE STREAM that showed the channel he shouted out & had interacted with? just in case you y'know. didn't watch the conveniently provided video, the channel has videos with CLEAR nazi propaganda in it. felix posted a comment on one of said videos about how he enjoyed it.

and if that isn't enough, he did pay people to do the "kill all jews" thing that im sure you've heard about. but oh- wait. that was just an Edgy Joke too! not like it could do any harm to his vulnerable and easily influenced child audience, huh? because it's just A Goof ! No harm done!

Fuck that noise. Fuck off my blog.

[catsblob]

i made my first basics post on nov 23 2016 and current me doesnt even know that innocent bitch anymore.. though she made some points

i won’t be repeating myself from before unless it’s to clear up somethin so here we go class

there’s no simple way to this. this relies on so many things such as post quality, interaction, active posting, and personality. if u got a shit personality, u’ll only be in this town for a month or so before getting kicked out in some way. 

make friends. yes, it’s easier said than done, but u gotta. reply to people’s posts, send asks, ask for collabs, make jokes, etc. etc. it helps to hang out w people who have similar aesthetics or interests as you! ur just gonna publicly clown yourself if u just hang out w people who have 0 commonalities w u... 

also posts? POST. preferably only sims-related stuff. many people, including me, avoid blogs that are mixture of irrelevant fandoms or are super personal. make a sideblog or a twitter to put that stuff in. yeah, its fine to post some personal updates here and there but... have mercy

this ties in with your posts getting attention. everyone starts off rough and getting lucky with a single like or even a reblog. it may take some people longer to get through, but you’ll make it if you try hard enough. don’t get easily disheartened!

this is just a reality check everyone needs entering this community, just about ANY community. at some point, you’ll most likely get some form of anon hate in your inbox or on simsecret. don’t take it seriously. laugh it off. make some jokes about it. clown them. key point is that there is a difference between a criticism and just plain rudeness.

within the past year, tumblr has done goofed up bad and has an automated system that flags posts that they believe is “sensitive content”. 99% of the time it isn’t so you gotta appeal it. sometimes, if you’re lucky, it’ll show an appeal button for you on the posts. if not, you can follow this method to appeal. if that doesn’t work, well, might as well just repost it.

most of the things that trigger the system are warmer tones (thinking its skin). i haven’t really noticed what else triggers it but i don’t even think tumblr staff knows that.

there’s been an uprising of patreon creators, esp in the ts4 community, and many use this as a way to earn some money for their work. may it be early releases (most popular), exclusive cc (which you shouldn’t do. it’s shitty), wips, benefits, etc. etc. it’s basically a fancier version of a donation box.

a lot of patreon creators do exclusive cc which is quite frustrating, esp for people who 1. do not have extra cash to spend on two files of cc 2. are literal children and can’t pay. 

support who you want and know who you are supporting. don’t waste your money.

i’m answering this as someone who creates for ts4. download sims4studio and blender (3d program - covers just about everything for ts4). you won’t really need anything else (besides, of course, photo editing programs) until you go on the deep end of 3d meshing. watch youtube videos. read tutorials (and resource tags). go wild with what you wanna do. figure out which area you wanna go ham in. poses, recolors, retextures, new meshes, building, decorating, etc. 

if you’ve been following me for the past couple of months, you know the general jist of this. legally, according to ea’s TOS, anyone is allowed to do whatever with someone’s UGC (cc) even without notifying them. this is when it gets a little crazy.

simblr has the reputation of having rigorous TOUs where you cannot edit at all (or you can with special permission). understandable, it’s just a respect of each others’ rules. people then go to the next step to copyright their cc, which isn’t truly legally correct. i’m no lawyer, but once you put your shit into the .package format (dedicated format for sims content [EA ownership]) then it’s a free for all.

here on tumblr, people can submit DMCAs and take down your posts and give you strikes to your account (three [uncontested] strikes and you’re out within an 18-month period). for example, marigold (sims4marigold) sent me 2 DMCAs over 3 of my posts that recolored/retextured their cc. with my cc respectfully going along their TOU (reminder: this is all just a respect thing), I submitted a counter claim through support (follow the steps it shows > if it doesn’t show, choose the “other” option) and explained how the DMCA was false. 

you will then go through a ridiculous process that will take months. you will need to submit personal information to properly submit a counter, so be wary of that. after that is processed and you agree to all the terms, you will go through a 10-business day process of waiting to see if the DMCA sender rebuts it. typically, such as in my case, they did not so my content was restored after the wait. 

if you were truly falsely DMCA’d, this will be a tedious process and annoying, but it’s worth it. contest to all of them and remove those strikes so your account is not terminated permanently.

and that bout does it! those were the tips i could think of that would benefit newbies in the community and hopefully helped anyone else who was a little confused by certain things. if you have any further questions, please go right ahead and ask!

[nonipsduck]

Hey fellas, I’m back again with our Indruck- oriented server, Eggnostic! I’m Alexander, and 1/3rd of the mod team, but more importantly, I’m here to say that we will be accepting members again for a short period of time! Details under the cut.

We’re friendly, chatty folks- if you’re not interested fast-paced convos we probably aren’t for you! We do our best to keep things fresh and active, but as a result of such, have found it necessary to implement several rules. I ask you read over them before you decide if this server is for you or not.

1) Be Cool

   1A) This includes respecting these creators. Don’t say anything you wouldn’t say to their face, both in terms of subject and tone. The language you use conveys a different meaning (ie saying ‘griffin goofed that a little vs berating him) and that matters.

   1B) Going off of the above point, we have decided to ban hypothetical “maybe whys” regarding late episodes. While often well-meaning in giving them credit for not being perfect-content producing machines, it does not change the fact that theories are for characters, not real people.

   1C) We also have decided to ban anxiety-ridden “What-ifs” regarding on why episodes may be delayed: if it is causing you serious emotional distress, it belongs in vent (however if the conversation spirals into people spouting off what-ifs we will intervene).

2) c'mooooooon

   2A) We discourage hyper-analysis of TAZ as it is simply put, not built or meant for that and will not stand up to such analysis, which can be a big downer on a server about loving TAZ. There is no actual prohibition on such conversations… for the time being.

   2B) Our stance on art/fic shaming is as follows: If it falls under obama's second amendment, such as whitewashing tones or features, conflicts with LGBT/ND/POC canon or headcanons (bearing in mind lots of folks are projecting their own real-life struggles), or the content is so horrifically awful (:remyvore:), you're fine. Direct attacks on the arts style, quality, and general artistry will not be tolerated.

id like to make sure everyones actually reading these to some extent, so please tell me your favorite amnesty character n why when you ask to join!

   2C) Related to the aforementioned headcanons, there will be little tolerance for "but why"-ing POC,ND, and LGBT headcanons. It is also unnecessary to insert that you disagree with someone else's headcanon on such topics. Serious, genuine discussion is fine.

   2D) Minimum server age is 14, Maximum 25. Please do not invite anyone to the server without privately asking a moderator. Public requests will be ignored and/ or deleted.

   2E) We want to highlight everyone art fairly, so #art-and-stuff has a 5 minute (ish) cooldown between art posts. We just ask you wait five or so minutes before posting your art after someone else.

   2F) Please be conscientious in both vent channels. Obviously ‘mood’, ‘same’, ‘kin’ ‘f’, ect are entirely inappropriate and won't be tolerated, longer messages with the same message (‘yea i’ve been there sucks man, oh yeah me too, ect) are equally unwelcome. Overly dismissive, Overly aggressive, or condescending (in nature or tone) solutions are also not appropriate.(edited)

3) nice.

   3A) We love goofs and japes, and for this we have #really-wild-shit . For serious and horny NSFW discussion, we have exactly no channel because we don’t want it here. At all. Thanks.

4) We'd like to keep a deeply connected server, and in that case it does not make sense to have everything fall under the mods jurisdiction. If you find something to be in poor taste or in violation of OMA, simply respond with an :eye: emoji. If you need immediate action, or would like a mod to address a situation in any way, simply shoot us a ping.(edited)

5) Blacklist content. Not to be discussed or mentioned in any context. DM mod to add.

   - Drug Use

   - Alcohol

   - Self Harm

   - Suicidal Ideation + Threats

It is worth noting that these are rules for members already within the server, who have already established that they have many hc’s, theories, ect in common. While we cannot ask, much less enforce the following, know the following going in:

> Duck content is all presumed Trans unless stated otherwise… although if you feel the need to state otherwise you probably won’t enjoy the server anyways.

> George is the result of a 3+ hour debate over voice call and is the collective child of not only Indrid and Duck, but our server as a whole. He was and continues to be something we bond over. I’m not saying you gotta know all the lore (because good lord I dont even know it all) but realistically you’ll wanna at least enjoy the little raccoon king we’ve created.

> The rules are clear about NSFW content, but to elaborate on an area in particular: this server is Indruck and Barclane oriented. Chatter of other, conflicting ships isn’t… restricted, but folks are allowed to nip and tease ya. The exceptions only being age gap content (Duck/Pidge, Duck/Leo, Duck/Ned, basically anything around a 20+ age difference. ) and Anyone x Beacon content (he’s a sword with a mouth, and we know you aren’t thinking of him whispering sweet nothings).

> That being said we loooove a good goof. There are several running jokes and recurring topics that may make you uncomfortable, including but not limited to: vore, oviposition, piss, monster and robot fuckers, ect. They’re 110% ironic, but do occasionally spill out of the wild-shit channel for the sake of us being funny bastards.

if you’d like to join, reply to this post, do NOT dm me. im busy this week and it lets the other mods help out too.

We’ll be accepting 10 new folks, and its not super first come first serve. If you join and find that we aren’t for you, no worries: we do not have public exit messages. Thanks for reading!

[pixie-mage]

For anyone paying attention in the Jacksepticeye Community, today’s video - Transference - was a hell of a firestarter as far as Blazing Fandom Infernos go.

After startling everyone with a constantly-changing, zalgo-text-including video title (all six of which are shown above), community theorists were able to pick this video apart frame by frame to find all the hidden goodies our lovely Team Septic hid there for us. There were a lot of super sneaky single-frame Easter Eggs (kudos to Robin) and they require a bit of frame-by-frame searching to find, or some major digging through the Transference tag here on Tumblr...so to make things a little easier, I’ve created a Master Post detailing what the community found between the pixels.

For starters, The Title™. At first, we all believed that YouTube had goofed again and the video had simply been posted with its original file title - as it has happened before. But no, this turned out not to be the case, because shortly after the video went up the title...changed. Only slightly. The text had begun to glitch, and it wasn’t too long after that when the glitching words “HAVE YOU SEEN HIM” appeared alongside the video in its place. Next came something a little closer to an actual episode title, along with an official thumbnail (shown below)...then we got a jumbled, zalgo’d title, the capital letters of which spelled out “HELP”. It was an entire hour after the original upload time that Episode 2 of Transference was in a normal state of upload, complete with thumbnail, free of any zalgo and (seemingly) back to normal.

Except it wasn’t. It still isn’t. Just look at the thumbnail:

I don’t know about you, but there’s something eerily familiar about this image.

Want a hint?

Red lights and glitching eyes. As in most videos that appeared during the Egopocalypse back in May, red lights can be seen glowing in the background...and if you look closely at Jack’s right (our left) eye, it’s green, glitching, distorted.

And we haven’t even begun to touch the contents of the video.

04:05 - “Crystals”

Hidden behind a natural glitch within the game, a familiar face can be seen. It’s not clear whether it’s Anti or Jack, because while the person is wearing the same shirt as Jack is in the corner, the coloration is iconic. It’s interesting to note too, that while the glitches don’t always move between frames, the eyes do. Watching eyes, staring straight at the camera, that don’t stay still when everything else is.

14:10 & 14:11 - “Red Hallway”

This pair of appearances both came at a moment that put most viewers on the edge of their seats, whether they caught the hidden images or not. In Jack’s words from this same segment of the game:

“I do not like that...standing at the end of a fuckin’ - red hallway, silhouetted like that? Big fear.”

This is a clear reference to the red hallway scene with Chase at the end of “Dark Silence” and the images Robin snuck into Transference are from that same moment.

Perhaps this is a clue that it’s Chase, not Jack, who is playing this game? After all, the reason so many people were excited for Sean to play it is because of the parallels to the Egos, specifically Anti and Chase. Glitches, digital distortions, a red hallway...a broken family, a mother trying to leave a father and taking the child with her. While the story is different from Chase’s, the parallels are evident, and it wouldn’t be a big surprise if Jack had noticed it too and had planned accordingly. Though I suppose we’ll have to wait and see...

14:52 - “Harmonies”

This one lasted for only a few seconds, and it was more subtle and undertoned than the others. Jack, leaning his head to the side - the “Neck Thing” - and a visual lag. We’ve seen this effect before, and every time it shows up, all signs point to Anti.

20:12 - “Eyes”

Another familiar scene, hidden behind another glitch. (Kudos again to Robin, because holy shit this one’s good.) In game, Jack was being run down by the same distorted monster that has been appearing again and again throughout the game...and its approach was very similar to how Anti approached Chase in that infamous Red Hallway scene. So of course, after a few frames, the Glitch Bitch himself makes an appearance right behind the in-game distortion. You can see the shadow of his nose, the dark shapes of his eyes, and in the bottom-right corner the shoulder of his shirt can be seen. Just like here, in “Dark Silence”:

45:42 - “Still Here”

Did you think Anti would leave without saying goodbye? :3c Of course not!

In the single frame between Jack’s outro and Sam’s tank showing up, our glitchy boy makes one final appearance in the form of a final, sinister side-profile that supersedes the little window Jack has been playing from this whole time.

So what can we take from all this?

As far as I’m concerned, we don’t have nearly enough of the pieces to put this little puzzle together...but I have two ideas, one of which feels much more likely than the other.

1) This is Jack. Clearly, Anti hasn’t finished playing with our favorite boy, and he’s making it quite apparent that he’s in control. Jack may be the one on the screen, but Anti’s the one pulling the strings. Shameless and comedic HDWGH tour plugs, that same familiar sense of humor, plus jokes about “I thought speed was key?” from the previous video, and a lot of signs point to this being the same old irish bean we know and love...but (unknowingly) under Anti’s command.

2) The person we see in this video is Chase. Last we saw of our favorite trickshot master, Chase was being ambushed by Anti himself...and we haven’t exactly heard from him since. There are blatant parallels between this game and Chase’s life, though the story being told in the game is a much darker one, painting the father is the clear villain and a madman. (I would go so far as to say the game is a nightmare version of what Chase has been going through in his own life.) Sean mentions a fear of red hallways, of silhouetted faceless people standing at the end...and that’s what Chase went through at the end of “Dark Silence”. There was also a line in the game where Benjamin says: “I just wish we could go back.” Sean automatically say this in response:

“I just wish we could go back...to the way thing were before.”

Now, where have we heard that before? Chase, in the video for “Tie”. While one could also make the argument that Chase has been talking to Jack throughout his coma (and has probably said that same phrase at Jack’s bedside), and it’s possible that Jack’s automatic response could have been just a connection of a familiar phrase to something he’s heard before, it’s much more likely that it’s Chase. The way it was said, the absolute sadness and loss in his voice...that felt more genuine than on offhand comment.

Other things Sean said that raised a red flag for Chase:

“What’s wrong with this dad? Is he an alcoholic…?”

“Your wife, the dog… what about me? No one seems to care about me…”

“He was just focused on his work so she wanted to leave…” [A pause, where he looks rather forlorn]

All quotes found thanks to @steffid101‘s post

Plus the lighting in the facecam? It’s not red. It’s. Not. Red. One of the key differences between Chase videos and Coma!Jack videos back in May was the lighting...specifically red lighting. Chase is a new player in this Nightmare World that Anti has created, so clearly isn’t as deep into the nightmare state that Jack is.

Again, there’s not enough evidence for us to come to a clear conclusion on any of this...so I suppose we’ll have to wait and see what else Jack and Robin are planning on sending our way. After all, October is just around the corner...

...who knows? A̰nything c̣óuld̠ happ̋e͇n~

;3

[nautiscarader]

Smutember 2017 - day 14, Role-play, Max/Roxanne (Goofy movie/Goof troop)

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All characters are 18+

As two college graduates, Max and Roxanne keep finding interesting ways to spice their nights.

Chosen by the dirty mind of: Anonymous

Also, PSA: I’m redoing my masterpost, since the abundance of links (usually three per story) has kinda broken it, so it might not be up to date. 

In his small, dimly lit, messy flat, Max's bed was creaking every time his hips jerked, as he pushed himself deeper into his glamorous, half-naked co-worker. The flames of her red hair were spread around her head like a halo, making her presence in his humble abode even more mesmerising experience. Not an hour ago, he offered her drive home, from the bar she was sulking in, but things turned quickly when the alcohol in her veins took control over her body and mind. And before he knew it, Max was living a dream, making love to Roxanne, staring into her moaning face that just this morning was on every television screen in the country. But in this moment, she was his, and nothing was going to take her away from him.

It became a tradition of some sort, after a few first unsuccessful job interviews, for Max and Roxanne to role-play the positions they were aiming for, mostly to get rid of the uneasy feeling of unemployment problems. But even after they both found jobs, they still liked to pretend they were someone different, imagining how sex could sneak its way into their fictional workplaces. It broke the monotony that could always sneak up onto them, and gave them motivation to pursue some of their kinks and desires they wouldn't be able to try if they were just themselves.

After they spotted a TV crew outside their apartment block earlier that day, the rest of the scenario wrote itself. Tonight, Roxanne was an intrepid reporter, trying her best to outsmart others and arrive first, wherever the news would broke; Max play the role of her faithful cameraman, who followed her everywhere, and unbeknownst to her, would follow her anywhere, as he was madly in love with her.

Roxanne cupped the face of her lover, stroking it with her thumb, as he continued plunging himself into her. Since the alcohol was still buzzing in her head, trying to touch his rapidly moving face turned out to be a bit more difficult than she imagined. At least she was with someone, she thought. The decision to sleep with her friend was a spur of the moment, but with every move of his, she regretted the dubiously ethical choice less and less, especially when he incorporated his fingers into his repertoire, flicking her clit every now and then.

- Come on, Max, how long have you been wanting to do this? Months? Years? - she teased her friend, between her sharp intakes of air Even though every muscle in his body shouted at him not to do this, Max stopped pounding her, leaned over her, staring into her surprised, glistening eyes, and uttered the words he's been trying to say for nearly half a decade. - Ever since I looked at you through the lenses... - Max huffed - Why do you think I followed you everywhere, from a bloody tornado to a sandstorm? I love you, Roxanne...

Suddenly, in one moment, Roxanne remembered every single time her friend fixed her hair, a few seconds before they went live; every bit of fast-food they ate in their van during breaks; every time he consoled her after a date that went wrong. And she saw in his eyes the truth he's been keeping secret.

- Oh, Max... She reached her arms and pulled Max into a deep, watery kiss. If she was drunk before, she sobered up instantly, as the world around her quite literally rocked and swirled when they rolled back and forth. His hands traversed her back, taking off her blouse that remained the only part of her attire. Suddenly, to Max's great disappointment, she broke the kiss, and moved aside, seemingly as if she wanted to get out of the bed. A moment later, however, she stretched and reached into Max's bag, exposing her gorgeous back to him in full glory. She turned around, carrying a portable video-camera, one he would always bring with him, just in case he'd spot something worth capturing on tape.

- You know, I've been blind for so long... This moment really deserves to be remembered, don't you think? She fluttered her eyes, and without waiting for an answer, she placed the camera on the night stand next to his bed, once again, giving Max a stunning view of her naked behind. The familiar red light of the recording blinked at the same time when Roxanne moved back to her position, spreading her legs as an invitation for her new boyfriend.

- So, shall we continue?

In an instant, Max entered her again, pushing her body deep into the sheets and pillows, resuming the furious work he had to pause a moment before. But now, they were no longer friends with benefits; a newly found emotions fuelled their love-making, and the fact that their acts were recorded added the extra bit of spiciness they desperately needed.

Throughout the night they changed positions many times, and every now and then, Max would reach to the stand to fix the camera's angle, to make sure it would record the mess of their twisted bodies in all of its glory. At some point, however, it became obvious that the most beautiful and captivating part of their love-making wouldn't be visible, so when Max felt that Roxanne was approaching her climax, he took the camera in his hand, ready to capture the blissful agony of her face on the tape.

- Oh, yeah, Max, keep going, keep going! - she screamed, even louder now that Max was recording her.

Under Max's thrusts, Roxanne got hold of the bed's frame and begun writhing, already anticipating the orgasm only her trusty friend, no, lover, could give her. She swore loudly when climax hit her, causing her body to arch and twist more, though she still tried her best to keep her eyes on the video camera. For the first time in her life, she felt full and accomplished, having just found the soulmate she's been looking for years. At the same time, a minuscule wave of disappointment waved over her, as she pondered how much earlier could they start dating, but it was almost instantly washed by the prospect of them driving through life together, as more than just two co-workers.

Max's groans and huffs were getting louder as well, prompting Roxanne to move her hips back and forth a bit faster to accommodate his pushes. Suddenly, and with some difficulties, Max managed to pull out and waddled forth on his knees, stroking his cock with his other hand, until he shoved it unceremoniously under Roxanne's face, holding it like a microphone.

- Roxanne... how about a few words for our viewers? - he groaned, and threw his head back. Roxanne eagerly opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue, catching several short bursts from his tip, shifting her eyes between the lens of the camera, and the blissful face of her climaxing boyfriend. Despite her best efforts, Roxanne didn't manage to swallow all of his copious orgasm, and let the rest spill onto her chin and neck. She wasn't sure if she did it because of the volume of his release, or if she wanted to leave a lasting impression of their first kinky night on the tape. Whatever the reason might have been, once Max was finished, Roxanne turned her head to the side, so that his camera would catch her messy face, her empty mouth and most importantly, a beaming smile of satisfaction.

- Oh, yeah, Max, keep going, keep going! Roxanne bit her lip, watching her face twisting in carnal pleasure on the screen. Sitting in her boyfriend's lap, on the sofa, in her night gown, Roxanne enjoyed the post-coital and post-shower cuddles, though she could not ignore his length getting stiff again, as the two climaxed on the screen again and again.

- Pretty good one, huh? - Oh, yeah. - Roxanne murmured, exposing her neck for Max to kiss - I never thought I looked like that when I... Well, you know.

Almost instantly, Roxanne closed her legs and begun playing with her hair. Whenever things got a bit heated, Roxanne had a few ways of hiding her excitement, though with her boobs constantly bouncing up and down in front of her eyes, it proved to be very, very difficult. Despite her kinky nature, the modest and shy part of her personality would sometimes surface to calm the other, fiery one, and it was a treat for Max to see them battling for dominance in front of him.

- I think it was better than the nurse act we did last week. - Max stated nonchalantly, pushing a button on a remote, trapping the scene on the screen in a infinite loop, much to Roxanne's amusement. - Oh, yes. That one was so cliché. - Roxanne replied, wriggling in his lap, getting more and more aroused. - Still fun, though. - I wish we recorded our first one, don't you think? "Miss Roxanne", a sexy secretary...

Roxanne let out a low, languorous moan and let her body fall deeper into Max's arms, as the memory of their first role-play came vividly back to her.

- Yes, that was definitely the best one. But knowing your luck you would return the camera to your dad with the tape inside it. - she joked, staring at the expensive, borrowed device linked to the television set. - We should repeat that then. - he said briskly - What do you say? Max' eager suggestion, combined with his hands moving up and down her exposed thighs was a clear sign that all of Roxanne's attempts at hiding her arousal was unsuccessful, though the more she thought about it, she wondered why she bothered concealing it in the first place, given her past record of trying to refuse a second helping of her boyfriend. - I told you, she is attracted to people with power. - Roxanne snapped back - Once you get a promotion, maybe she'll come back for more... - Oh come on, it's gonna be years! - Max exclaimed, hearing his girlfriend giggle under her breath - What am I supposed to be looking for until then? - Well, If I'm not good enough for you...

When Roxanne leapt from their seat, Max was about to protest and apologise, since his first dreadful thought was that she was about to storm out of their small apartment, still in her gown. But instead, she walked to the drawers in front of him, swaying her hips with every step, and sat on the spot next to the TV, careful not to throw the camera to the ground. Once she was sure-seated, she spread her legs, giving Max the breath-taking view of two naked Roxannes, one constantly climaxing, and one about to start doing it again, live. She stood up, took the ends of her robe and tossed it to the floor, about to drag Max into another round of carnal pleasure.

A black skirt fell to the floor in the dark, elongated room, illuminated only by rows of screens, all showing scenes from their recent sex-tape. On one of the screens, Roxanne watched Max climaxing into her mouth, and was surprised how eager she looked, while performing such dirty move, especially since the looped video made it look as if her new boyfriend was really holding up for years waiting for her. Another centred around her breasts, jiggling up and down; yet another showed her face, twisting with pleasure, being pushed deep into sheets, as Max pounded her brutally from behind.

In other words, it was a perfect background for what she was about to do.

Roxanne pushed the heavy, colour-coded keyboard back, getting comfortable on Max's desk, amongst dozens of pieces of computer equipment only he knew about.

- I don't know about you, but I've got a taste for sex in an editing room, under our boss' nose. What do you say, Max?

A/N: Oh, and yeah, the reporter role-play was kinda inspired by the job the Roxanne-looking girl in "Ducktales" reboot took by the end of it.

[lextenou]

Mirandy Fic Rec Reviews 2017-07-11

I had a couple friends ask for some fic recs for Mirandy. I will be posting more as time allows. Fics are not rated by me - if they’re listed and I’ve written about them, I recommend you read them. I have also included my own thoughts on these stories and my favorite quotes from them. As these are reviews, there are spoilers ahead. Also, heads up - assume that all fics have happy endings unless I specifically say otherwise. 

A Chance Encounter by smhfiction

Summary: Takes places five months after Paris.

When Andy is unexpectedly thrown headfirst into Miranda's life, none of them will ever be the same again.

Words: 46490

Ah, classic hurt/comfort. Andy witnesses the horrifying accident that almost claims Caroline's life, and manages to record what could easily be her last words on her cell phone, in addition to capturing footage of the accident itself. She drops everything to be with the Priestly family in their time of need, despite not having had any contact since that fateful day in Paris. Through ups and downs, including Andy's unexpected pregnancy after her one night stand with Christian, quitting her job instead of handing over the video of Caroline, and Miranda, the two of them come to a greater understanding of each other.

Though it begins as hurt/comfort rather dramatically, there are immediately strong domestic fluff elements. Touches of angst sprinkle through, with robust communication helping to pave the way to a happy ending. Anyone would have drama after being in a fatal rollover car crash, and Caroline is no exception. It comes out all good in the end, and the journey there is entertaining. There is strong dialogue throughout, which can be off putting if you're expecting more prose or examination of what is inside their heads.

The prose is tight and enthralling. Each revelation comes naturally and explains further their personalities and decisions. Characterization is dependent on if you believe that Andy had grown up after leaving Runway. If you do, its spot on. If you don't, it will be difficult. The difficulties that Andy has with her family over the pregnancy and her coming out are deftly handled. The movie that plays in my head as I read this one is incredible. Plus there are great fluffy scenes sprinkled throughout between moments of angst and terror. There are a couple of minor typos - "luck girl" instead of "lucky girl" for instance - that do not detract from the story. Some words are misused but their meaning is clear - alluded instead of eluded - with contextual clues giving more than enough understanding. These minor issues are easily overlooked if you don't get tweaked by them. If you do, steer clear.

Favorite part of the story: Andy's shiny steel spine. She stands up for herself and her child, she remains firm regarding her relationship with Miranda, and states clearly who and what she wants. It's delightful.

Favorite quote: “Look, Miranda. I am sorry for Paris and everything that you’re going through. I won’t pretend to know how that feels.” Miranda arched her eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. “I would like to be your friend, see where this takes us, and I will be there for you and both of your daughters.” She nodded satisfied with where this was going and clutched her yogurt to her chest. She could feel the tears beginning and fought them back. She seemed to cry over the stupidest things. “But, this is the last vanilla yogurt, and I’m sorry, but you can’t have it.”

How to Become a DragonMaster by dhamphir 

Summary: After walking away from Miranda in Paris, Andy decides to make her way on her own terms and finds professional success in an unexpected way. This is her story. Question is, will it end the way she wants it to?

Words: 10960

Documenting Andy's determined personal growth after leaving Miranda in Paris, we see the ways in which Andy forcefully navigates the course of her own life. Eschewing anything from the world she knew, Andy is bound and determined to NOT owe Miranda a damned thing. Granted, this is hard since she wants to be in publishing. She makes friendships, and reaches great personal success because of the friends she makes along the way.

A bit dramatic, definitely slice of life, this one has strong character growth as the driving factor of its plot. If you want to see the way that someone can go from former second assistant to successful, this can show you the way. Lighthearted, but with a touch of gravitas, it does a lot in a compact story.

What I really enjoy about this is that it shows a natural progression of character growth. Andy's journey reads quickly, but is highly enjoyable. No real issues with this one - its well written and edited.

Favorite part of the story: That they come together as equals. Its something that is missing from a lot of stories, but is captured very well in this one.

Favorite quote: “I’m 53 years old.”

Andy’s smile widened into a grin. “Did I mention I like older women?”

Dogs? Really? by jehc

Summary: Miranda discovers that Andrea writes fan fiction.

Words: 23883

A sequel of sorts to "Cats? Really?", this story treats the first one as a fanfic that Andy writes during her downtime. For context, I do recommend reading the first. It gives much additional depth to this story.

Definitely comedic, with some of the best utilized crack elements I've ever seen, this story treats its subject matter with tongue firmly in cheek. It is almost as though we're part of a great big in-joke with the characters throughout, especially if you've read other Mirandy fics. It reads like a long form love letter to the fandom that still achieves its main accomplishment of allowing Andy and Miranda to realize they're head over heels for each other. I definitely recommend reading some other fics before delving into this one - it will make the experience all the more enjoyable. Don't let the humorous nature of this one fool you - there's still sprinkling of angst and idiots in love in these pages, up until the point that they properly communicate.

Switching back and forth in perspective between Andy and Miranda, this story does a lot to expand on their relationship in a fun way. The rollicking romp does a masterful job at keeping them in character and allowing them to explore further. Emily is wonderful in this as well; the little snippets of her are a riot.

The way that Miranda is presented is fascinating. Andy figures it out in a great line. "Most of the shit she does is a total goof on all of us. It’s like she is so smart that she is bored and she amuses herself by scaring people." The guessing at what jehc stands for is similarly riotous. It's fun, downright fluffy, and it just plain works.

Favorite part: the exploration of the Devil Wears Prada fanfic world. It is absolutely hilarious to read Miranda's responses to fanfic. Runner up: that Cassidy and Caroline write fanfic. It's delicious.

Favorite quote: When Emily realized what she had said all color drained from her face. Andy had been sure the Brit was about to pass out. Miranda had then silently locked eyes with the younger woman and after letting her stew for a moment reached out and patted her on the cheek.

“Well, Emily you have finally found the women’s section of the La Perla catalogue.” Miranda’s voice was low and silky. After another short stare down she said, “So pull up your new big girl panties and find me a new assistant!”

Like Andrea, Like Family, Like Life, Like Love by GinStan

Summary: Andy realizes Miranda is acting oddly and is determined to help her ex-boss.

Words: 30786, 48748, 99444, 295898

This series is one of the longest in my collection. Its epic length is outmatched by only a few in my entire library. It is definitely worth the investment.

Starting with Andy realizing there's something wrong - namely that Miranda has put out an all brunette issue of Runway - she inserts herself back into Miranda's world to find out what's wrong. Problem is, the thing that's wrong goes deeper than one might initially suspect. Angst and laughter inhabit this world, as does a memorable duet dance to Madonna's "Vogue" and a regrettable devotion to Cincinnati chili. The full fledged exploration of not just Andy's family, but Miranda's as well, is something I didn't know I wanted until I read this. The twins are threaded throughout with great effect, and the subplots are great.

Featuring some fantastic cameos by everyone's favorite beleaguered Detective Jo Polniaczek and her socialite/CEO wife Blair Warner (originally from “The Facts of Life”), the progression in this series is natural and enthralling. I've re-read it multiple times, and each time its a wonderful journey.

This is a story about family, love, and taking or making life as we want it. There are all sorts of things included in the mix - drama, comedy, angst, thrills, romance. From the start, it's clear that this journey isn't one that will take long to get them together - it is the domesticity and journey forward that drives this one. Family action and reaction is a major point of this story as well, with a cast as broad as is presented, there are numerous subplots that are able to be explored.

There are fabulous delvings into realistic responses. The biggest "gimme" in this fic, as in the thing you accept without question to make the story work, is that Miranda is so open from the start. The drugging makes it clear why this would be, and as the story continues, we’re given further explanation of just how devoted Miranda has been to Andy since before the start of the story. Miranda normally is so controlled with her displays that Andy wouldn't trust what she sees until she gets hit with a clue-by-four. In this case, that starts with the all brunette issue of Runway and gathers steam from there, so Andy gets on board quickly enough.

This series is one of those that is bandied about as a classic. It truly is. Not just for the length - that makes it epic. The story itself, the buildup of their relationship and how it grows and deepens...THAT is what makes this a classic.

Favorite part: Its hard to pick just one thing. Its so well built upon what comes before, but I'd have to say probably Andy and Miranda's families. The subplots with them make what is already real into so much more. Tante Louise is a hoot and a half.

Favorite quote: "Oh, Jo… When you tell your wife that you met Miranda… tell her, you wore the Armani, and that Miranda gave you a nod. You got that? A Nod. It's very important."

"What's so important about it?"

Andy grinned. "It's going to get you so laid." She laughed at the look on Jo's face. "Trust me."

It’s All Relative by Hawkbehere

Summary: Andy Sachs revisits her Runway past and finds the landscape changed.

Words: 214720

Ambushed outside of work by her fellow journalists, Andy is surprised to be told that Miranda has been shot. So begins this broad, riveting tale that spans everything from a hideous belt buckle, Dalton scholarships all the way to a moose head named Charles. 

Miranda’s motivations are clearly elucidated in this one. It’s clear to us as intelligent readers exactly why Miranda is so insistent that Andy not leave - and when it’s discussed in the text, Andy sees it too. The mutual respect and uncertainty between them is explored, as is the need for them to find their own balance. Throughout, we’re given glimpses of a truly wicked sense of humor in Miranda. I about die laughing every time I read the following: Miranda lowered her voice and said in an accent straight out of Brooklyn,  “You go big and you pay de tab—it’s de kissa death to guys like dat.”

This is one of those stories that leaves you with deep impressions and that you think about for years afterward. Between the varied cast and the incredible pacing, we’re introduced to characters that feel like family. It is a sadness to reach the end and no longer be able to spend time with them. 

Hurt/comfort, drama, touches of comedy, domesticity, angst, family, altruism, the Dragon in full force - this story has it all. Subplots of other characters coming together and embracing what it means to fall in love are threaded through this, to great effect. This has one of my favorite Serena/Emily subplots. It also has fantastic medical research done for it, and it shows. Terminology and protocols are well portrayed. It also has a curious thread throughout - Miranda is the matriarch of an ever growing family, because Andy is there. It is downright heart-warming.

There are so many great parts in this story that it’s hard to winnow down which ones to discuss. This is one of those stories that you run across right before you want to pass out at 1am and spend the rest of the night reading. It remains one of the best novels I’ve ever read.

Favorite part: Miranda’s vast and varied accents are definitely up there. Jesus. So are all the characters. But my favorite part of all of my favorite parts is Emily’s wedding speech. To delight in the improbable is a gift.

Favorite quote: Caroline looked up into Dr. Allen’s eyes and saw something she hadn’t seen yet in this jovial tough-talking stranger. She realized it looked something like anger.

The woman leaned down and whispered, “I live emergency medicine. Unless you go into my field or off to war, you will never, ever see a fraction of the brutality or horror or sadness or bravery or goodness or sheer fucking grace of God that I do every day. That’s great for you but you know what?”

Caroline’s eyes began to sting but she jerked her chin so the doctor continued, “Sometimes? Sometimes God is really damned kind and a 30-ton truck doesn’t hit you or you don’t fall off the 10th story of a building. Sometimes, He sends exactly the right size enemy—something or someone you can beat if you’re willing and brave. He gives you a choice and a chance. When God’s feeling real generous? He sends someone like Andy a rat but sends someone like your mama that piece of shit who shot her.”

She lowered her voice another notch, “They both stood up and bled for the people they loved, you hear me girl? I have seen way too many people die who met something too big for them. Don’t you dare disrespect them. Not if you love them. You should thank God, Caroline. If they had to bleed and suffer, and evidently they did, you should thank God they met something they survived.”

[winchester-with-wings]

Growing Pains, Part 1 / (Second Chances Series)

Bruce Wayne x child!reader fic!

AUTHOR: @faithtrustandpixiedust95

Summary: Growing up as Y/N Wayne, you find a new way to train and even make a friend.

Word Count: 4300

A/N: reader is about 12ish. My sister is writing her fics all in the same universe but each one has a different title and are broken into parts.

*Disclaimer* I did not write this. My sister, Sam, did and I am posting this with her permission.

Sequel to 

“Shattered Beginnings” 1 / 2

“Adjusting” 1 / 2

Sam’s Mobile Masterlist

Life as Y/N Wayne had been moving on. You were Bruce’s baby girl and he truly loved you as much as you loved him, which was a lot.

You two would spend most of your time together whenever Bruce wasn’t working and you weren’t at school. You and Bruce would even train together and spar for fun.

Not much changed once you found out your dad’s “super-secret”, you would help out in the Batcave every so often and help your dad whenever he needed it. The only thing you weren’t allowed to do was to go out in the field with him and stay up super late.

Honestly, you were okay with this decision. As good of a nerf “sharp-shooter” you were, you were in no way ready to start battling it out with the bad guys.

You had just started training in mixed martial arts and you were loving it. The combination of being able to escape holds and dish out your own blows was helping you get through your own issues. It was a good release and you felt more confident in being able to somewhat protect yourself.

You were learning a lot from Bruce, he was teaching you defensive techniques as well as offensive. When you were older, he taught you how to disarm people with weapons, how to handle loaded weapons safely and how to shoot them as well. You were a natural shot, your nerf skills were finally paying off as a real life skill!

He taught you how to blend into your surroundings and these training sessions usually ended in hour long hide-and-seek battles, once you got the hang of it, you ended up winning most of the games.

You had excelled in your stealth training exercises, often using them on Bruce and Alfred when they least expected it. At one point you had snuck up on Alfred while he was making cookies. Right as he poured in the flour to the batter, you scared him, causing him to spill the flour all over himself, you, and the kitchen. He was not happy about it, but you thought it was funny. You were sure to have Bruce snap a picture of it to put in the memory book.

You loved playing with all the different gadgets that Batman got to use, especially the grappling gun. You were a regular lil’ monkey, swinging back and forth, up and down. It was your favorite mode of transportation around the manor between the first and second floor, you were too good for stairs, this had become the ongoing joke between the three of you.

There had been a certain training exercise using the smoke bombs that didn’t end particularly well. But that was because you weren’t training, you were more playing around, unsupervised, and you had set off most of the smoke alarms much to the bemusement of Alfred and Bruce.

You also learned to hone in on your observation and detective skills. Bruce would bring back pictures and info he had found at the crime scenes he would investigate. Once he loaded them all into the computer, you looked at them together creating a case file of clues and evidence to send over to Gordon for the police to use.

You were very detail oriented with these case files. There were a few instances where you had found a small piece of evidence Bruce hadn't come across and it helped to put the pieces of the puzzle together.

Together, you and Bruce, made a good detective team. Having the interpretation of a well-seasoned vigilante and the new perspective of a creative child, gave you the perfect resources to figure out the cases and turn in the bad guys.

Of course Bruce always kept you at arm's length during the more brutal cases, and you always only helped from the safety of the cave. You weren't old enough to go out and be by Batman’s side in the field.

In the next few years, you definitely progressed in your MMA training becoming particularly good at nerve-striking and takedowns. You loved the challenge of taking down bigger opponents, aka your dad, by using the person's weight against them. Being small and athletic had it's advantages for climbing and moving quickly.

You were a competitive little booger! You would train at the cave with your dad everyday after school, you had a knack for improvising and tweaking your learned skills into something more useful for someone your size.

The nice thing about it though, was that your dad never held back during training. He knew what you could and couldn't handle and you would surprise him every now and then by going beyond his expectations.

Even with all the intense training you did, you still got to be a kid. You socialized and goofed around at school, sometimes a little too much. You were a troublemaker at times, but it was all out of good fun.

Your teachers loved having you in their classes. You were smart, quick witted, and kind to the other students. You often volunteered to help other kids out when they were struggling to grasp a concept in class and you did your best to include everyone in what you did so no one felt left out.

There were a few occasions where Bruce would have to leave work in the middle of the day to come down to your school because you had gotten into a fight, but you only fought with the bullies when you were trying to defend the kid being picked on. You didn’t like seeing other kids getting bullied, so you would put the tormentor in their place even if it meant you got in trouble, it was worth it. You took after your adoptive father in that way; you wanted to save and protect people if you had the ability to.

Being a Wayne at Gotham Academy had its ups and downs. One of the downsides to it was that whenever you misbehaved, like getting into fights, it would end up as an article in the news. You seemed to be following in your dad’s footsteps with making headlines over pointless affairs, it was normal for kids to act like that, but because you were a Wayne, everything was looked at under a microscope.

But one of the upsides to having your name, meant you were never alone at school. Kids were always trying to be your friend and you welcomed the interactions respectfully, but you knew when it wasn't sincere. You had yet to make a strong friend at school that you could rely on.

It was a hard search, because no matter who you chose, there would always be secrets that had to be kept on your side of the friendship. Secrets weren't a good foundation for friendship.

At age 12, you were enjoying school and your training. It was exhausting sometimes and you continuously felt the pressure of lacking a true friend.

Bruce had come up with the idea of having you compete in junior MMA fights to explain your skill behind fighting and to maybe make some friends. It was a good story to feed the media to keep them from figuring out your family secret.

You became undefeated in your MMA meets, one after the other. You trained hard and it showed.

The media loved showing up to your meets to cover your fights. It was a juicy topic in the news.

Some outlets supported your participation, approving of Bruce's decision to let you compete. It was seen as a fatherly thing to do, to let your kid be a part of a sport.

Other outlets saw it negatively, thinking it was inappropriate for the heiress of Wayne Enterprises to fight in such a barbaric sport.

The only thing the two sides agreed on, was the fact that it was a good idea for you to learn self-defense.

If it had been up to the schools and parents of Gotham’s youth, self-defense classes would have been a mandatory skill to learn in school. But because of a crooked politician on the Gotham Board of Education, it was never put into circulation in the school’s curriculums.

So training in private and competing in meets became the name of the game.

You loved it. It was as social as it was competitive and you enjoyed your fights, with your dad coaching you and cheering you on at every one.

It was at the State Finals that you had met your match in opponents.

You had progressed to the finals with ease and each fight had been a good challenge, but never hard enough. You were looking for some serious skill to compete against and you found it in the title fight of the finals.

Of course the media outlets were present at the finals, you had gotten several people interested in your standings of the sport and since you were “The Wayne Princess” the news felt obligated to cover your events.

You took advantage of the spotlight, making sure that other kids at the event were getting just as much attention, if not more than you were. You would grab reporters and tell them to talk to this kid or that kid.

The meet went like all your others had gone. You would sit and watch the other kids compete, enjoying yourself before it came time for your fight.

This particular fight was going to be a bit different than previous ones.

You had been competing at a skill level that didn't match the girls division of your age, so to keep things fair, you competed against the boys.

Your competitors weren't happy about fighting a girl, but it was the only compromise that satisfied the judges without putting you in over your head.

Everyone was apprehensive of what was going to happen. When you entered the ring with the other kid, you were focused on getting into the right head space. You channelled a very specific anger that allowed you to get your adrenaline pumping. You heard the official call to you to clear the fight and you walked to the middle of the ring to meet the young man you were fighting.

He was the same age as you, he had short red hair and green eyes with small freckles pebbling his face. He had blocky shoulders, was slightly taller than you and had a strong build for someone your age, but you matched his athleticism according to the judges, based off your previous fights.

He looked pissed off and glared at you like he was ready to knock you out with one punch. He'd fought hard to get here and he wasn't going to let some girl take that away from him.

You felt your adrenaline spike and your heart starting to race, knowing that this was going to be your most challenging fight to date.

The official went over the rules he wanted you both to abide by. He asked you if you understood and you nodded with your headgear and mouthpiece in, he did the same for the boy and he nodded as well.

“Touch gloves and return to your corners. Let’s have a good clean fight!” the official shouted over all the parents and kids cheering.

You tapped your red gloves to the boy’s blue gloves and looked him in the eyes. You were ready to go just as much as he was. The tension between the two of you was readily apparent to the crowds watching from outside the cage.

You returned to your corner and when the bell rang, you met each other in the middle of the ring and started to fight.

You were making careful calculated dodges of each punch the boy sent; he had gotten a few jabs across due to the reach of his arms. You made sure to keep a bit more space between the two of you so as to better dodge his far reaching punches. You kept light on your feet, constantly moving, making him chase you.

He had the advantage on reach, but he wasn't as quick on his feet as you. You made note of this and tried to tire him out as much as you could.

You got a few strong kicks into his body, but he retaliated with a combo you were just barely able to block.

At one point in the first round of the fight, he pushed you up against the gate and threw a few punches. You managed to block them and then pushed him off of you, getting out of the corner. You were about to advance and start your jabs when the bell rang before you got to him.

You both went to your respective corners and your coaches and parents were talking to you, feeding you confidence.

“Nice job, baby girl, tiring him out! That’s the way to do it! Make this fight be on your terms,” you heard your dad cheering behind you from the gate.

You nodded at him and looked at your coach.

“Good job Y/N, that was a good first round. I noticed he doesn’t have super sharp footwork, I think if you can get him to the ground to grapple a little, you might be able to get him into a good hold. Avoid those long arms of his, he's got a lot of strength behind those punches. Keep tiring him out and then when you’re ready, go for the takedown. Just remember to play clean,” he emphasized that last sentence because he knew you liked using your tweaked techniques to grapple with other students during training before the meets, but there were rules to follow and judges were watching.

You nodded at your coach and took a drink of water and then the official was calling you both back up to fight.

The bell rang and you advanced toward the young man throwing a right hook to his headgear. He wasn’t able to block it well because he had timed it wrong. You took his moment of confusion to send a combination of punches to his body.

He was thrown off by the sudden change in your fighting getting more aggressive. You could see him making mental notes during the fight, adapting to your moves.

He dodged another punch and returned one to you which you were able to block, but the power in the punch still definitely hurt. While you were recovering from the blow, he got a strong kick to your side that knocked the wind out of you. He made his way to advance again, but you backed up out of his reach so you could catch your breath. You could feel your side already starting to bruise and stiffen.

You were bouncing around on your feet, getting a bit winded, but you saw the same look on his face. You saw a red mark forming on his face from your previous punch and he was breathing hard trying to keep up with you.

You decided to try going for a takedown, getting bored with the footwork.

You closed the space between you, keeping your arms up and blocking his advances. When you got close enough, you put your arms around him.

He was trying to break the hold and was able to push you away, but this made it so you were able to get into the right position to put your small body into his chest in a particular hold that sent him slamming to the ground over your shoulder.

You flipped him and were suddenly straddling him, sending punches left and right. He had his arms up, blocking his face when he tried to buck you off and pin you to the ground. You adjusted to his movements and the next thing you know, you had his arm in your grasp.

His arm was pinned between your legs and you were pulling it back in the direction taught to you for an arm-bar hold. This was painful for the boy, he was trying to get out of the hold groaning and wincing in pain.

The official was ready to break the hold, per the rules for your age group, when you felt the two taps on your leg and you let go.

He had tapped out. The official came up to the two of you on the mat and assessed the boy to make sure he wasn't injured.

The crowd of people watching were cheering at the sudden end to the fight.

You stood up and stretched out your hand to him to help him up. He was reluctant to take it at first, but when he looked at his coach, he knew he had to in order to be a good sport.

You helped him up and then handed him an ice-pack that your coach had tossed to you, giving you a big thumbs up. You smiled at the boy and said in an encouraging and cheery tone, “Nice job, that was a fun fight, hardest challenge I've had. You did great!”

The boy just glared at you and then his face softened, “Thanks. You did a good job too. Congratulations on your win...maybe we can have a rematch in the future,” the boy teased with a now friendly smile on his face.

You shook hands with the boy and the official came up to you two, raising your left arm in the air to signify you had won by tap-out. The judges brought out a big shiny belt and put it over your shoulder. You held it up high and smiled at your win.

You looked around the ring and noticed everyone was cheering, but no one was louder than your dad. He had both hands up in the air in victory and he was cheering your name like a normal competitive dad would. You laughed at this and walked towards him when the official let you and your opponent go.

Bruce picked you up in a big bear hug and twirled you around, he was smiling enough for the both of you. You just laughed and hugged him back.

When he set you down, you were bombarded with cameras and questions from the reporters.

You stood tall with your victory belt still draped over your shoulder. You looked back behind you and got the attention of the boy you had fought, you motioned for him to come over to you and the cameras. He walked over, seeming a bit uneasy and stood next to you.

You smiled at him in a way that told him to follow your lead and you turned back to the camera to answer the questions of the press with your opponent next to you. You made sure any questions they asked the boy were respectful and you defended him against any kind of humiliation.

“What’s your name?” one reporter started off the interview of you and your opponent.

“My name is Roy,” he said, still a bit timid at the attention.

It was nice that Roy didn't live very far away. He was in Star City, another dangerous mecca that seemed to be run more by the mob than by delusional villains.

Each town seemed to have their own issues, but they also had their own heroes. For Gotham it was crazy villains and Batman; for Star City is was the mob and the Green Arrow; for Central City it was meta-humans and the Flash; and for Metropolis it was aliens and Superman.

Your detective skills got the better of you and you had done your research on each city’s series of crimes and the hero who cleaned up the mess.

After the state finals, you and Roy had become good friends. He had been a little bitter at first at the fact that a girl beat him, but he eventually lightened up.

You two would often meet up and spar at the gym, coaching each other and teaching each other new moves. You were happy to find out that Roy had moved schools from Star City and started going to Gotham Academy. He was in most of your classes. You two had become thick as thieves. He was over at your house after school and training almost everyday and what was weird was that Bruce didn’t seem to oppose having someone over at the manor all the time.

If anything, Bruce seemed to approve of the friendship and welcomed Roy and his family over whenever they wanted.

Roy was being raised by his uncle, Oliver Queen. A tall man with short blonde hair and a golden goatee. Oliver had soft blue eyes that he seemed to hide behind. He never talked more than was necessary, but he loved lecturing. Roy always came to the house rolling his eyes from the “valuable lesson” Ollie had just rambled on about for the drive over to the manor.

You didn’t really know who he was, but Bruce did. Apparently Oliver was another playboy-turned-dad when his nephew had gotten into some trouble and his parent’s solution was sending him to stay with Ollie. Roy didn’t seem to mind though, he liked being with his Uncle Ollie, it seemed to be a good fit for the both of them, they balanced each other.

Ollie was over at your house just as much as Roy was and he and Bruce got along really well. A little too well if your observation skills served you right.

One night after Roy and Ollie had gone home, you asked your dad about it.

“Did you already know Ollie before you met him at the MMA meet, Dad?”

“Yes, I have worked with him a few times. He owns Queen Consolidated. Our companies are working together on a major project right now, so he moved to Gotham with Roy to make the commute easier,” was your father’s simple response. It didn’t sit well enough with you though.

“Okay, but you seem to like, really really, know him...how?” you pressured your dad, who was now smiling seeing that you had figured out yet another secret.

“He’s the Green Arrow, Y/N.”

“WHAT?!” was all you could squeal out in your signature squeak. “I knew there was something more between you two!”

“We’ve started working together on some cases. He’s been training Roy too. That’s why we were comfortable with you two being friends,” your dad explained it as if it was no big deal.

“So...does Roy know who you are?”

“Ollie is probably having a similar conversation to our’s with Roy right now on their way home,” he assured you.

“Okay, cool. Then I don’t have to hide anything from him anymore and wait for him to tell me about it. That takes a weight off my shoulders!” you sighed and laughed, still a bit dumbfounded at the news.

When you and Roy saw each other at school the next day, you both were a bit unsure of what to say.

You broke the silence.

“So does this mean we’re like ‘cousins’ or something? And like the cousins where you just say you’re family ‘cause of how close you are, even if you’re not related by blood.”

Roy just started laughing at your rambling, “No, I don’t think we’re ‘cousins’, I think it just means that we get to be even closer friends than we initially thought.”

You smiled at the statement and hugged your friend, which caught him off guard, causing him to blush. When you saw his red cheeks, you chuckled and punched him in the shoulder in a friendly manner, causing him to laugh and relax.

“This is gonna be great,” you said with a dopey smile on your face.

“Oh, no. You’re not about to ‘fangirl’ on me are you?” he teased.

“So what if I was?” you defended, “Our families rock, dude. How can you not be freaking out that my dad is you-know-who and your uncle is who he is? It’s like the beginning of the greatest superhero team-up ever!” you shouted, putting your hands in the air out of excitement.

“You’re such a dork, Y/N,” he taunted. You laughed and punched him lightly in the shoulder again.

“Whatever, we gotta go to class or we’re gonna be late for math. Last thing I need is the media finding out that the ‘Wayne Princess’ is tardy to class every now and then,” you mocked, saying the nickname like it left a bad taste in your mouth. Of all the name’s they called you by, you hated that one the most.

After school and training that day, you came home to find Bruce had come home early from work.

“Hey, Dad! You’re home early. What’s the occasion?” you inquired.

“I’ve got a surprise for you,” he started, “You’ve been training really hard and doing well in school that I thought you deserved to do something fun.” He pulled out two tickets from behind his back and handed them to you.

They were tickets to a special circus show that was in town for the week. It was a highly coveted performance, not your typical circus. You looked at them and beamed with excitement.

“Really?! I saw ads for this show all over town. They even advertised it at the school. I hear there’s this really cool trapeze performance that is just gut-wrenching! When are we going?”

“Friday night after school. We’ll do a nice dinner beforehand and then go see it, how does that sound?” he suggested.

“Great! I can’t wait. Thanks, dad!” You hugged him and then took a picture of the tickets with your phone to send to Roy and brag.

Part Two coming soon...

tagging: @readerlucy @alohalisha @fantastic-fantasy-fanfics @sleepingalong @ahsokaslament @annabananna394 @kiri-hakumei @chrisevansisdaddy04 @emily-83113 @heyitssilverwolf @evyiione @abbytheninja

[bosstoaster]

26. Shiro. Angst, if you want. It feels like it could work well with super hurt/out of it angst. And I clearly hate happiness.

It’s the 1000 Followers Special!  Based on these prompts.  Don’t want to see all 35 of these?  Block ‘1000 Followers Special’.  Can’t read on mobile?  These will slowly be posted to AO3 starting in a few days as ‘Hold Up Half the Sky’.  A huge thank you to Xagrok for the beta’ing!

As time went on, it became more and more common for Shiro to let his guard down.  It took weeks for him to even doze with the door open, much less with another living being in the room.  Even the mice moving around could wake him on a bad day.  Or he’d let the responsible leader thing drop for a few seconds, cracking a dark joke or goofing off with the rest of them.

Those were the times Pidge liked best.  She understood and respected the need to be their commander some of the time, especially during missions or training.  There was the big picture they needed to be focused on, and Shiro seemed to make it his personal goal to make sure they were always moving toward that.

But Pidge didn’t really want to be a military unit.  Yes, it had its uses, and she couldn’t deny the effectiveness of the hierarchy in the field.  It had its place, but it wasn’t what made Pidge stick around.  Some days, the urge to give it all up and go searching for her family was still strong.  It wasn’t Voltron or the universe that made her stay.  It was the times they were a different kind of family that kept her around.

(Read More Below)

Which was why Pidge maybe didn’t take Shiro’s wariness very seriously.  Mind, she got why, because Shiro had been vulnerable in the worst way possible.  But he was downright afraid of it, acting like he’d let them down each time he managed to nod off during a movie.  As if by closing his eyes for too long he’d put them all in terrible danger.

Some of Shiro’s thoughts weren’t always rational, after all.  And he’d never hurt anyone, no matter how often it happened.

So when Shiro dropped off on the couch, sprawled out with his bowl of snacks balancing on his chest, Pidge didn’t think anything of it.  She was used to working through his snores, and even if not, she didn’t mind the sound.  It was audible proof of his trust in them and his relaxation.  So Pidge didn’t even pause the project she was working on, continuing to sketch out vague schematics for bots she probably wouldn’t build.  Most of them were fantasy, based on pure laziness, like one that would carry her around if she felt like it.  Just to see what she could come up with for that.

Pidge also didn’t think twice about reaching over to steal from the bowl, because she was hungry and Shiro wasn’t eating it anyway, and those weird meaty-tasting cereal thingies were so weird she kept wanting to try them and make sure they still tasted like beef.

Except Shiro must not have been as out as she thought, because when Pidge’s hand touched the bowl, his eyes snapped open.

Before Pidge could react to that, even just to open her mouth to apologize, Shiro grabbed onto her arm and pulled, dragging her completely off balance with the pain and force of it.  Rolling with the sudden momentum, Shiro rolled them both to the floor, Pidge taking the weight of him in the fall.  He twisted her arm up with a yank that threatened to rip it from the socket, and the Galra arm activated with a dangerous buzz, pressed against her throat.  His eyes were locked on her but unfocused, and his lips pulled back into a snarl.

In less than a second, Pidge had gone from relaxing with Shiro to bruised, winded and threatened with a deadly weapon.

“Shiro?” She managed, instinctively pushing herself away from the heat of the arm.  Sweat was already breaking out, and her breath came fast as all her instincts screamed to get away.  “Shiro!”

Finally, his gaze cleared, and Shiro yanked himself away like he was the one in danger of getting burned.  He scrambled away on his hands, until there was at least a few feet between them.  “Pidge?  Oh, god, I’m so sorry-”

“I’m sorry, I was just reaching for the snacks, I didn’t think-”

“-I shouldn’t have fallen asleep here. What was I thinking?-”

“-of course you would react like that with food, I didn’t mean to disturb you-”

“-I could have killed you!”

The force of the cry finally cut off Pidge’s rambles, and she stared at Shiro again, finally recognizing that while he was aware, he wasn’t all there.

“I could have- oh, god, I nearly- a-and I could have broken your ribs on the way down and I nearly ripped your throat open, I’m so sorry.  I didn’t- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”  Shiro’s hands slid into his hair, fingers clutching as tight as they could on the short strands.  Then his head came up, so sudden and desperate that Pidge flinched away from him.

The look at his face was nothing short of horrified.  

Pulling his legs in against his chest, Shiro took a deep breath.  It seemed to center him, somewhat, and Pidge could see the way he pulled his leadership persona back on.  “Do you need a pod?  I can call for Coran and Allura, they’ll be able to help you down.”

“I’m fine,” Pidge replied carefully, fingers brushing over her neck to be sure.  The hand had never actually touched her, just a display of deadly force.

A very effective one.  Pidge wasn’t going to be trying to take anything off Shiro’s plate for awhile.

But Shiro didn’t seem convinced.  He shook his head and stood, swaying visibly.  And if that wasn’t proof of how messed up he was right now, Pidge didn’t know what was.  “Your ribs might have been damaged from that fall.  Coran will be able to scan to tell us-”

“Shiro.  I’m fine.  It was like, two feet, and you’re heavy but you’re not that heavy.”  Pidge stood as well, hovering a few feet away.  She wasn’t sure what to do here, wasn’t good with people in the way someone like Hunk or Lance was.  Even Keith, with his longer relationship with Shiro, would have a better idea what to do to crack through this mania.

Or maybe he wouldn’t.  It wasn’t like Shiro had been this way before, probably.

When Pidge took a step forward, Shiro matched it in the opposite direction, leaning back from her like she was going to go after him with the bayard.  “It doesn’t hurt to get it checked out.”

Pidge narrowed her eyes.  “Why are you so determined to think I was hurt?  Or to get Coran and Allura here?”  

Shiro flinched.

He probably wanted supervision.  He probably wanted distance, someone to come in and take the situation out of his hands, to take care of her while he continued to freak out.

Well, tough shit.

“I’m not scared of you.”

Shiro froze, then he shot her a flat look.  “Of course not,” he said, and he didn’t sound like he believed her.  He sounded like he was placating her.  Pidge’s entire body locked up from the sudden swell of range.  How dare he be that condescending?  “But that doesn’t mean you’re not hurt, so-”

He was cut off when Pidge yanked a pillow off the couch and lobbed it at his head.  It bounced off harmlessly, and Shiro stared at her.  “I’m not scared of you. You haven’t done anything I haven’t seen you do on an enemy.  We always knew you could do that, and I should have known better.”

“You shouldn’t have to!” Shiro snapped back, finally engaging with her words, for the first time since he’d woken up.  “I shouldn’t put you in a position where you could have been killed!  There’s no excuse for your commanding officer pointing a weapon at you, ever.”

Pidge bared her teeth.  “You’re not just my commanding officer, so screw that.”

“That’s worse!”  Shiro snarled, leaning closer.  Pidge paused, because hearing Shiro shout like that was startling from sheer volume.  It was startling to realize how rarely he raised his voice outside of the comms.  “How many of you am I going to hurt?”

How many... members of the team?

Or members of her family?

Judging by the sudden slump of Shiro’s shoulders, probably the latter.

He took a deep breath, once again drawing himself in, pulling himself back.  “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Probably,” Pidge agreed, because denying it would only make him pull back harder.  “But you did anyway.  You didn’t hurt me.  You startled me, but you’ve thrown me harder in practice, honestly.  And you hurt Matt to save him.  So, net points here, you’re still in the green.”

Shiro glanced at her, a ghost of a smile pulling at his lips.  “Very utilitarian.”

“Someone has to balance out all your Kantian melodrama,” Pidge shot back.  This time, when she took a step forward, he didn’t back away.  “I’m okay.  You can check for yourself if you want.  I’m sorry for startling you.  But there are things you can’t help, and if you take this as a reason not to relax around us again, I’m going to jam that bowl of cereal on your stupid head.”

Shiro frowned.  “I think we’ve proven today what a bad idea that is.”

“I’m alive,” PIdge pointed out.  “You pinned me.  You recognized it was me quickly.  And, Shiro, you have every chance to do serious damage, and the worst you did was pin my arm.  Even when I startled you awake and went for your food, all you did was scare me.  You held back in a worst case scenario.  You didn’t hurt me.”

For the first time, something seemed to really connect.  Shiro’s eyes widened, and his hands worked by his side.  “I didn’t.”  It wasn’t a question, but Pidge nodded anyway.  “Oh.”

Good, he was finally getting it.  “At your core, you didn’t want to hurt me, so you didn’t.  You put me in a position where I couldn’t hurt you and you could scare me off.  That’s not the actions of someone fundamentally violent.”

Shiro seemed to rally, and his brow furrowed.  “Doesn’t mean I couldn’t have hurt you by accident.”

“Yeah, and you could accidentally knock me in the halls and crack my head on a wall,” Pidge pointed.  “Accidents are life.  And if you do that, or if you get me with the arm while you’re out of it, then I pre-emptively forgive you.”

Shaking his head, Shiro frowned.  “You can’t do that.”

Pidge just stared back, arms crossed.  “Try and stop me.  Now, will you be bothered if I hug you, right now?”

“You can’t want-”

“What I don’t want is for you to finish that very stupid sentence.”

Swallowing, Shiro nodded.  “Good call.  You-”  He stared at her in something like awe, then opened his arms.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Pidge stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug.  After a moment, he returned the gesture, cheek resting on top of her head.

There was a slight lie, there.  Pidge wasn’t afraid of him, but she had been afraid.  If being pinned like that showed up in her dreams tonight, it wouldn’t be a shock.

But Pidge could deal with that, if it meant Shiro didn’t stop acting like what he was: family.

Because that was the reason she stayed.  It was the reason they worked.  And Pidge was willing to bend the truth to keep it.

[bbuggs]

okay honestly at this point it feels like im digging my own grave replying to comments like this but id just like to say a couple of things in response to this

first of all, im cis. second of all, this post wasn’t to be taken seriously. its a joke.

you actually have some pretty good points here but adding them to this post is kind of redundant because, as i said, its a joke. this post isn’t some twisted form of trans activism, its literally just me expressing my headcanon, and having a little bit of fun with bakugou’s character in relation to that headcanon. i knew that the second image would rile people up, maybe that was the intention, maybe i should have thought a little longer before posting it. in any case, i don’t see the point in referencing mlk on a silly little post like this. 

again, you make some good points about equality and how different people should treat each other, but this kind of isn’t the place for that, you know? if you make your own post arguing your opinions that you’ve commented here, i’d totally agree with you, but right now its just like,,, don’t take it so seriously. 

this was a harmless goof taken way out of proportion by people who - while still having good intentions - thought that this was the place to recite the ‘i have a dream’ speech. what, we can’t tease cis people? 

i hope i’ve perhaps cleared things up a bit, i really didn’t want anyone to get so upset about my stupid little edit

he said that

[zeroviraluniverse-blog]

Danyal Rasool: What the ice-cricket tournament tells us about India-Pakistan cricket relations

Visit Now - http://zeroviral.com/danyal-rasool-what-the-ice-cricket-tournament-tells-us-about-india-pakistan-cricket-relations/

Danyal Rasool: What the ice-cricket tournament tells us about India-Pakistan cricket relations

There’s not much in cricket Virat Kohli doesn’t know about. The Indian captain could yet go down as his country’s greatest batsman, having met most of the requirements already. He has won a World Cup and a Champions Trophy, is on course to beat Sachin Tendulkar’s mark of 51 ODI centuries, and still has about half a career ahead of him.

And as Indian and Pakistani players, among a handful of others from the ’90s and 2000s, goofed around at an exhibition event in Switzerland, playing cricket in the ski resort of St Moritz at sub-zero temperatures, you couldn’t help but cast your mind to Kohli. There is, after all, one special feeling in cricket he might never get the opportunity to sample: lining up in a Test match against Pakistan.

The St Moritz Ice Cricket tournament was an event between star players of yesteryear in conditions that are the antithesis of those in which the summer game is played. The players themselves were well past their peak years, most in their late 30s, 40s, and in Wasim Akram’s case, 50s. They were unfit, not especially motivated, and scarcely recognisable as the giants we once watched on TV. They were also wrapped up in woollen scarves and jackets, wearing gloves to keep the relentless Swiss winter at bay.

But as you watched more of it (and who can blame you if you didn’t?), you began to sense that cricket wasn’t really the point. The easy camaraderie between once fierce rivals made you feel warm and fuzzy despite the snowy backdrop. At no stage was this more poignant than when Indian and Pakistani players and fans interacted with each other. There was a point where Mohammad Kaif hit Abdul Razzaq for three sixes in a row before Razzaq managed to york him. The pair met in the middle of the pitch, wide grins on their faces, giving each other a high five.

Even Virender Sehwag, hardly a dove in his views on India-Pakistan relations, appeared to have caught the bug. He took Shoaib Akhtar to task in both games, before joking that he thought he’d be facing a fast bowler. He clowned around with Shahid Afridi and Akram at the toss. The bonhomie with the Pakistan players was as surprising as it was welcome.

“You see the North Korean team with their southern counterparts at the Winter Olympics. It does make you wonder whether talk of the India-Pakistan rivalry being so intense as to not permit cricketing ties is a bit exaggerated”

But the moment of the event, and what may yet be one of the feel-good cricketing moments of the year, came after the second game when Afridi stood at the boundary, signing autographs for the pocket of fans who were around to watch. As the diehards clamoured, a young girl with an Indian flag in hand asked for a picture. As Afridi granted the request, the fan withdrew the flag she’d been holding, folding it up and out of the frame, presumably so as not to offend Afridi.

He picked up on it, and almost chastised her, asking her to unfurl the flag properly. It was a moment warm enough to have melted the snow beneath their feet. That picture of a Pakistan player with the Indian flag in the foreground might well, in today’s environment, be vulnerable to all sorts of misinterpretation and malice, but the decency of the gesture is worth more than a thousand words.

India v Pakistan isn’t, as we’re told ad nauseum, like the Ashes rivalry. It isn’t a rivalry that took its root organically from the cricket, or is only about that; it was destined to be one from the moment the two nations went their separate ways over seven decades ago. Wins on the field for either side are hailed almost as military victories, with match analysis and reporting on news channels on both sides easy to confuse with war correspondence. The depth of animosity, and frankly, hatred, for each other entrenched in the minds of vast numbers of Indian and Pakistani cricket fans is evidenced by arguably the most rancid corner of the internet: the comments section of YouTube videos featuring Indian and Pakistani cricketers.

Of course, we tell ourselves, that in times such as these, normal cricketing ties cannot resume. But then you see the North Korean team marching with their southern counterparts under one flag at the Winter Olympics in South Korea, and competing as a joint Koreas team in the ice hockey event. It does make you wonder whether talk of the India-Pakistan rivalry being so intense as to not permit cricketing ties is a bit exaggerated.

The India-Pakistan relationship is, indeed, not comparable to that between Australia and England, but the situation between the two Koreas certainly offers a parallel. It is a loss to cricket that at the moment one can’t imagine the Indian cricket team arriving in Lahore to play a full series. It’s not just about security either, or we would have seen the two play each other in the UAE by now.

In recent times, Shahid Afridi and Virat Kohli have made public gestures of respect and generosity towards the other’s country, which go against our entrenched perceptions of India-Pakistan relations Getty Images

It would be unhelpful to lay the blame squarely at the BCCI’s feet. There is much it could be criticised for, but the nature of political ties between the governments makes it impossible for them to take an independent stance on the matter.

Pakistan need India more at the moment, and are naturally keener for cricketing ties to resume. They consider India to have reneged upon a written agreement for series at “home” Pakistan venues; one can’t help but suspect, however, that if Pakistan had had the upper hand in this relationship, they might have adopted a similar stance.

Kohli is busy getting hundred upon hundred in South Africa at the moment, but if he had a moment to see what happened in St Moritz, he might have wondered about the pettiness of the two nations’ current impasse. He had, after all, made his own gesture of goodwill just a few days earlier, posting a video to his millions of followers on social media, wishing Pakistani umpire Aleem Dar luck for his new restaurant (Dar hopes to use the proceeds to build a school for deaf children).

It is by no means Kohli’s only gesture of large-heartedness towards the neighbours. In 2016, he presented Afridi an Indian cricket jersey bearing his name, and the signatures of each member of India’s squad at the World T20, wishing Afridi luck in retirement. Yet we might never know how Kohli, perhaps the greatest Indian batsman of them all, might have measured up against the fast bowling production line that is Pakistan.

But events over the past week, both in Switzerland and South Korea, do seem to deliver a tacitly chastening message to India and Pakistan, and a rebuke to their list of excuses not to play cricket with each other. The toxic discourse that pollutes the air in the two countries clearly hasn’t affected the players who grew up living with it; their interactions with each other in the hills of Switzerland was clear evidence of that. There might not have been much by way of quality at the ice cricket in St Moritz, but there was plenty on offer as far as class was concerned.