#instead my brain is like ‘fuck chronological order’

[bereft-of-frogs]

I don’t think anyone will ever be able to accuse me of writing solely for popularity.

If I was doing that I would stop coming up with so many ideas that relied on a non-chronological order structure :D

Got another one to add to the list :D

[carionto]

This has probably been transcribed before but I don't know what tags to find it under, so imma just do it again cuz this kind of stuff feels very relevant to know, more evidence that Humans are weird as fuck and our brains just make shit up. [Twitter thread by user named foone as a long image I stumbled upon on Pinterest]: _______________________________

You want to know something about how bullshit our brains are? OK, so there's a physical problem with out eyes: We move them in short fast bursts called "saccades", right? very quick, synchronized movements. The only problem is: they go all blurry and useless during this

Having your vision turn into a blurry mess every time you move your eyes is obviously not a good idea, so our brains hide it from us. Now imagine you're an engineer and you have this problem

You've got some obvious solutions you could do.

make the vision go black during movement. (Some VR games do this!)

just keep showing the last thing we saw prior to movement

Both are good options with different downsides, but OH NO. this is assuming everything makes sense and is chronological and (regular) logical.

Your brain does neither of these options, really.

First, it basically puts your visual system on "pause".

You're not seeing blackness or even nothing, you're just not seeing period.

then when you finish your saccade, it shows you what you now see at the new position. and then it pretends it can time travel.

It seriously shows you the image at the new point, but time-shifts it backwards so that it seems like you were seeing it the whole time your eyes were moving.

And because your brain is not a computer with a consistent clock, this shit works.

You can see this effect happen if you watch an analog clock with a second hand.

Look away (with just your eyes, not your head), then look back to the second hand.

It'll seem like it takes longer than a second to move, then resumes moving as normal.

That's because your freaking visual system just lied to you about HOW LONG TIME IS in order to cover up the physical limitations of those chemical camera orbs you have on the front of your face.

We've known about this effect for over 100 years, it's called "Saccadic masking" and more specifically Chronostasis. Your visual system lies to you about WHEN things happen by up to half a second (!) just to avoid saccades blurring everything.

So while I firmly believe we're basically just overgrown biological computers, we're apparently computers programmed by batshit insane drunkards in Visual Basic 5.

And you might think "hey wait, wouldn't my vision 'pausing' for half a second have all kinds of weird effects on moving objects? why don't they appear to stutter when moving?"

and the answer is simple! your brain has EVEN MORE UGLY HACKS on top of this to avoid you seeing that

If you've got a clock where the second hand doesn't "tick" but instead smoothly rotates, you won't see this. Because your brain recognizes it's moving and adjusts what you see to make sure it sees the "right" thing.

It's only really obvious with periodically moving things like a clock hand, because it's not moving (so not triggering the movement-during-chronostasis hack) but it moves at a set rate, so you can notive that rate appearing to change.

It's tempting to think of your eyes and visual system as a camera just dumping a video feed into your conscious brain but taht's so very, very not the case. What you think you see and what your eyes can actually see are two exceptionally different things.

The big obvious one being the blind spot. Vertebrate eyes are wired backwards so we've got a blind spot in each eye where the enrves enter into the eye. About 6 degrees of your vision in each eye is just not there, as there's no light sensitive cells there.

Do you see a blind spot, right now? No, you probably don't. Close one eye! There's now no way for the other eye to fill in the gaps. Still, no blind spot… Your visual system is lying, and making up content it thinks is there. You literally cannot see what you think you see.

Here's another one: You can see in color, right? (well, some of you can't. Sorry) You can see in color all throughout your vision, it's color everywhere?

Well, most of the cone cells (Which are sensitive to color) are in the fovea, a little spot in the center of your vision.

So outside of that center-of-vision spot, you have very little color perception. There's some but it's very limited compared to your main color vision. But I bet if you shift your attention to your peripheral vision right now, it's in color.

Your vision system is lying. It's remembering what colors things are and guessing and filling in the gaps. It's basically doing a Ted Turner colorization process on your non-central vision.

There's even weird effects like what's called "Action-specific perception". If you get a bunch of white balls of various sizes and toss them at people then ask them to estimate the size of the balls thrown at them, they'll have a certain size estimate, right?

Now repeat the experiment but ask them to try to hit the balls back with a bat, and suddenly all the estimates shift larger. They actually see the ball as bigger because they need to hit it. Their vision is exaggerating it to make it easier to see!

Which just goes to show, like I said, your vision is not a camera. Perfect accuracy is not one of its goals. It does not give any shits about "objective reality", that's not important.

What's important to the evolution of the visual system is any trick that helps you survive, no matter how "dumb" or "weird" it is.

So if you want an accurate visual representation of what things look like? Use a camera. Not your eyes.

In any case the original point was that while you might know this about your eyes being poor cameras that lie to you, you might still think that at least they're consistent, time-wise. They don't screw with your sense of time passing, just to make up for visual defects. NOPE!

If you can't get it don in time, turn back the clock and pretend you did. That's a perfectly good solution when you're the visual system.

BTW @/hierarchon reminded me of a neat trick with saccadic masking: go look in a hand mirror. No matter how close you bring it to your eyes, and how much you look around, you will never see your eyes move. You're blind during those movements. But you still think you are seeing.

She additionally pointed out that your phone's selfie-mode is NOT a mirror, and it has a slight delaye, so you can see your eyes moving in it.

And for fun, here's wikipedia's example of the blindspot. Stare at L with only your left eye, adjust the distance, and the R will disappear. You don't see "nothing" or "black", you see the background, because you expect to.

This is why laser damage your retina can be so insidious. Your visual system already can hide "holes" in your vision, what's one more to hid? So you damage a small spot of your retina and your visual system covers it up.

But since you didn't go "WELL THAT WAS TERRIBLE I BETTER TAKE BETTER CARE OF MY EYES" and stop fucking with lasers, you keep doing it. Eventually you accumulate so much damage that your visual system simply cannot manage hiding it all and your vision rapidly degrades.

The other reason lasers are so dangerous is that they don't necessarily trigger the same responses as regular incoherent light. Your pupil reflex is only triggered by some special cells in the center of your eye, so an off-center laser might not cause your iris to contract.

And infrared laser light is just as dangerous as visible laser light, but can't trigger your blink reflex. Your eyes automatically close when exposed to bright light, but they can't detect infrared light. Despite not seeing it, it still causes damage.

Anyway, back on how amazing and crazy your vision is: There was an experiment back in 1890 where someone wore glasses made with mirrors in them to flip their vision. After about 8 days, they could see just fine with them on. Their vision system had started "flipping" the image.

(I say flipping in quotes because it's not as simple as it started showing the pixels at the top row on the bottom row, cause our vision doesn't work like that) It only took them a few hours to get back to normal after taking these glasses off, though.

The last really fun part about this flipping experiment: your eyes already do it. Based on how our vision is wired, we should be seeing everything upside down.

We don't, but only because our visual system has had a whole life to adapt to this.

BTW, since a few people have brought it up: There's a great sci-fi novel by Peter Watts called Blindsight. In it humans encounter an an alien race they call Scramblers, who can move very fast and precisely, and they exploit saccades.

Because if they only move during saccades, we never see them moving. And since so much of our vision is based on just filling in what we think is there, if they stay out of the direct center of our vision, we'll just visually fill them in, like they were never there.

Check it out if you're into hard SF stories of first contact. It's got some really neat ideas about human vision, very unique aliens, the future of humanity in the face of perfect VR, and vampires. (Really, it has "vampires", while still being hard-SF)

BTW, remember how I said "vertebrate eyes" up there? Guess who has eyes which are wired forwards instead of backwards (have no blindspot), have an internal lens, and can even see polarization of light? Our good friends the Cephalopods!

[bugsinshoes]

ok so i just watched @fordtato and @hkthatgffan 's respective videos about their interview with THE alex hirsch and i wanna just say OH MY GOD like SERIOUSLY

im gonna put my thoughts under the cut so theres no spoilers if you havent seen it already (BUT GO WATCH THEM NOW PLEASE !!!) + its gonna be LONG so BEAR WITH ME

ok, so i have MANY thoughts so sorry if none of this is coherent 😭 (this is not in chronological order of when the questions were asked, just me spewing out my totally normal thoughts about this interview so apologies for that)

starting off:

THE BABY IS SHERMIE?!?!?!? IM SO SO GLAD WE FINALLY HAVE CONFIRMATION WE CAN FINALLY LEAVE THIS TO REST !! I WAS RIGHT THOUGH SO HA !!! ACTUALLY SCREAMING !! TIMELINE BE DAMNED (also another thanks to hana, your timeline video is genuinely awesome. i never shut up about it. ever. any time i talk to my friends abt gf and i need to refer to the timeline i go: "IN HANA'S VIDEO-") anyways, i do understand it was a last minute decision on the writer's part of "oh. dipper and mabel need a grandfather, its not ford, and its sure as FUCK not gonna be stan sooo... third brother?" and i do understand alex being like, "oh, this is about ford and stan only having eachother" so i think making shermie younger was a GOOD THING? like, stan and ford had 18 years of just them so shermie wasnt in the picture, so stan and ford technically grew up on their own so ig it works? also, when stan got kicked out, he never got to see shermie grow up, probably only saw him at events when he had to pretend to be ford (post-1983) and as for ford himself, he was too busy in college and gravity falls to really visit the family so... it works! (despite everything)

that aside, lets talk about THE CRUMBS??? like i have some quotes here because i have a LOT to say:

"theyre both so damaged and they desperately need each other" - alex hirsch (talking about stan and ford)

LIKE SUIUHUSHUSH i HATE these brothers SO MUCH (LIES) i cant actually properly express my thoughts because WOW like its clear that they both have their own trauma and they NEED to address it but theyre both too STUBBORN to do so. theyve both been alone for 40ish years so of course they need each other. they grew up by the hip, so theres no surprise that they both need each other (whether they like it or not)

"[ford's] grateful for the forgiveness he thinks he doesnt deserve" -alex hirsch

ford thinks so lowly of himself at times it HURTS. like the lines in the journal about "only then would the freak return a hero" or about his guilt with bill and everything its just so important to his character im so glad we got so much ford content in this interview. like i am EATING ALL THIS UP RN

"[ford] has to always have a mission in front of him, because if he doesnt have a mission in front of him, hes thinking how have i treated people in my life?" - alex hirsch

ford distracting himself with things instead of facing his problems. probably something he had to do a lot, especially with his time in the multiverse. but it really hurts because i can imagine in the 60s, they never had any great coping mechanisms? so i can assume ford was just conditioned to distract himself from stuff so he never learned how to deal with things. and i KNOW in the journal hes like "i meditate!" and im sure that does help somewhat, but it doesnt address the issue itself soooo... sorry ford, but you cant just breathe your way out of everything

ALSO alex calling ford and fiddlefords falling out a "BREAKUP" (air quotes used) BUT A BREAKUP??? this is just adding fuel to my fiddauthor-infested brain rn. i CANT

and alex saying mcgucket is thinking like, "oh i gotta be a better partner" is HEART SHATTERING like the whole talk about fiddleford being "the building guy" who is kind of just there to make machines and please ford. its honestly so heartbreaking because fiddleford loves ford so much he'd leave his wife and child to go to absolute nowhere, oregon and the fact ford is too arrogant to see fiddlefords admiration and overall love for him its just IUIUAHHAS

and i do wanna say, i KNOW bill played a big part in this, by stroking fords ego and buttering him up with his kind words because he knew exactly what ford wanted to hear and that really affected how ford and fidds' relationship was like but THATS A TOPIC FOR ANOTHER TIME. all i know is that ford isnt entirely to blame, but he still is a massive arrogant asshole and he wasnt the best person to fidds at times (love him tho <3)

but im actually so happy because this interview sheds SO much light onto FORD bcs we BARELY got to know him, and hearing it from MR HIRSCH HIMSELF is just so good because we KNOW its a reliable source because its coming from ALEX YK??? like he wrote ford so he probably knows "oh yeah, that man is guilt-ridden as FUCK" and im so glad we get some crumbs of this guy i cant get enough of him !!! (impatiently waiting for the book of bill)

ANNNDD THE TALK ABOUT MAYBE GETTING A SEA GRUNKS SPINOFF/MINISERIES??? I WOULD EXPLODE GENUINELY ANYTHING WITH MY FAVOURITE OLD MEN PLEASE !! i would genuinely love to see more of their dynamic and how everything is after weirdmaggeddon and like dealing with trauma and UGHHH i would kill for stan/ford content PLEASE

also...

hippie ford.

hippie. ford.

i am never getting over this (im internally SCREECHING)

ANYWAYS THAT WAS MY RANT ABT MY FAV THINGS FROM THE INTERVIEW THAT WAS A LOT GODDAMN

im genuinely so happy with all the questions that got answered, as well as getting some deeper insight into characters and stuff. IM NEVER GETTING OVER THE AMOUNT OF FIDDAUTHOR CRUMBS YOU GUYS

im gonna end this by saying another MASSIVE thank you to hana and hk !! you both put so much effort into your respective videos and it was super super cool !! this was totally worth the wait !!! :D

[duckduckington]

Differences of the WoY visual style between the pilot and the final show (Along some other stuff) (Part 1)

So a crap-ton of cartoon show bibles and pilots surfaced recently, which is kind of fucking cool, and it included stuff from Wander over Yonder, which is way fucking cooler.

First thing I did was over-analyze the show's visual style and I figure I should put my findings somewhere, so here you go! In a chronological order, it's easier that way (and builds suspense for the real good stuff, ooohooooh (in a spooky ghost voice)).

The first shot alone already brings forth some differences. As far as I know, the show never illustrates space like this, entirely black with just a couple of stars to break the void. There's usually some blue star dust or something, kinda like this:

The skullship was planned to be 3D-animated apparently, instead of being drawn in the same style as the backgrounds. This allows for WAY more complex movements, since it's easier to pull off.

We then get to take a looksie inside of the ship... this isn't like ANYTHING in the show.

We do see control rooms on occasion, but not one like this. It's a circular room with rows of watchdogs on the wall, watching monitors, circulating the middle where Hater sits on his throne. The railings on its support carry Peepers and his cockpit. Two watchdogs control the ship (I think) at the front. That blue goop at the top might be the ship's brain (you can also already see some animation errors in the front, peep their grabbers). There ain't ever been a color palette inside the ship like this, they usually opt for red and black rather than red and white. This might have been their solution to making the characters native to Hater pop out against the background before deciding to just substitute black for purple.

There's still bright locations within the skullship, but they're non-threatening ones, like the food court.

Commander Peepers and the watchdogs have designs that, while closer to their final versions than the pitch bible (or whatever that cover of that graphic novel was supposed to be), carry some traits still worth pointing out (well, so does everything here, but pshhhshshhhshh).

SHINY

COLLARS

Puffy collars around necks, wrists and ankles.

Detailed irises.

Detailed soles on shoes.

Those lines on their gloves that you see in your grandpa's toons.

(bugs bunny pictured flipping the bird)

This is specific to Peepers; the jagged thunder-spike on his helmet has dimension to it, as opposed to the implied dimension in his final design. Spikes on the side are also way longer here.

His eye/face emotes differently by just utilizing a black eyelid, rather than turning the hat into a pseudo-eyebrow, kinda like Double D from Ed, Edd n' Eddy.

We then get a glimpse at Hater's design...

Despite his face missing, you can already see some differences, like his arms resembling more those of an actual skeleton and packing a lot less mass. His hood is also a bit more tout and the folds surrounding it have more empathis.

Another space shot with some shapes to break up the infinite black; it's not always you see a warm color palette for space in the actual show.

Maybe here, when Wander and Sylvia stop the sun from blowing up in "The Good Deed".

When entering the city that's about to get its shit stirred by Hater, we notice that there aren't ANY other locations illustrated like this. We usually have smooth, airbrushy looking stuff, when this is more reminiscent of a comic strip, with clear lines and some hatching to indicate weight here and there. Same goes for the townsfolk, they remind me of... Krazy Kat or something. Craig McCracken has gone on record saying he drew a lot of inspiration from old comic strips, but I don't know if Krazy Kat is one of them. I just thought of it :)

The inside of the skullship looked different so this place might have had an unique artstyle to other locations we would've seen in this version of the show, but that would also be a big difference since the actual show keeps the background style consistent throughout the whole run (as far as I know).

Goes in hand with the skullship; the watchdogs are 3D-animated here, although subtly.

Different gun designs... they look more like water guns here. Big ol' TUBES. Their guns in the show are more sci-fi-esque.

Hater's logo is different, in-line with his design. Way flatter design too. Might as well take a look at his actual face now.

Well, more like next time. Just found out you can only use up to 30 images in one post. Oopsies. I'll continue this when I have the energy! I'll continue my chronological analysis/rambling and perhaps talk about the general art-style and animation at the end. Might take me a couple of more posts.

[definitelynotaminion]

Rated "R" - Part 4

First 7k here (my blog) or on ao3 here | Skip ahead to the end of my WIP doc/see all updates on patreon (full 11k doc) | The tag i'm using for this fic on tumblr (chronological order)

-

His breath picks up, exactly like a little bird trying to keep his respiration even without the cheat of tactical breathing patterns. Giving Jason his-- fuck, his honesty here, not trying to hide behind the training!

“God, I was a little asshole.” Jason says fondly. “Leaning over you, nudging you, teasing just to get a reaction.”

“It was terrfying.” Tim says, lips pursed but audibly fighting a smile. “I was worried you’d find out that I knew. Or that I was so far from home.”

“Instead you showed me a shit picture of the sky—you totally took that right before I landed on the balcony, you little shit—and stuttered through your planned lies and let me talk you into sneaking out to the corner ice cream shop.”

It’s fuzzy around the edges, just another night as Robin before the end, but Jason remembers how easy it was to coax startled laughter and wide-eyes out of the boy, how impressed he’d been when Tim shimmied down the fire escape so easily for his ‘first time’.

“It was the best of night of my life.” Tim says quietly. Not quite wistful, but something… a treasure, here, pressed into Jason’s hands.

Jason had swung the young boy back to the landing, felt his shock and joy even as he was so quiet, not whooping or screaming—Jason wasn’t suppsoed to use the grapple with civilians outside of emergencies, but aside from the stuttering and awe he hadn’t managed to get strong reactions out of Tim.

He'd wanted to.

“I’d have recognized you.” Jason announces. His head thumps back on the pillow. “At the next gala.”

A sharp inhale.

“You… that was only two weeks before Garzonas.”

“And three weeks before I fucking bit it, I gotcha.” Jason blows out air heavily. “I don’t remember the dates, but that was April. Earth Day had already happened, so…The next one would have been, what, the Belmonts’ charity ball?”

Tim disagrees with a little noise of dissent.

“Sophia Starr held a big event in May to raise money for cancer research.” He reminds. “Her aunt died from brain cancer the year before.”

“Better that than fundraising for shitty outreach programs that ended up embezzled, or tax write offs, or fucking—early movie showings.” Jason had almost forgotten the contempt in his heart for all the different reasons Gotham’s elite got together to spend their hoardes of money.

“Mm.” Tim quietly agrees. “You weren’t there.”

Jason squeezes his eyes closed, thinking about where he was instead—and what he would have given up to be there, once the trap sprung. 

Shit. He needs a distraction. Galas and balls, little birds dancing around each other.

“If I had been?” Jason tips his chin up, eyes still closed. “What was your plan, hmm? I’d have recognized you.”

A shaky inhale as his reward. Jason grins again.

“Do you think you’d have come, even if your parents weren’t in town? Tim Drake, almost old enough to be chauferred there, to apologize with a smile for his parents’ absense. Schmooze a little on their behalf.”

“I first did that to get close to… well.” Tim lets the words trail off, lets Jason pick up what had really been going on at the time. “It was closer to the end of summer by the time I realized someone had to step in.”

“Let’s not go there,” Jason decides, letting his eyes open, see the lines in the ceiling. “We’re painting a different picture, here, Tim. C’mon.”

“Yeah?” Something soft in that tone, almost breathless. Jason gets more comfortable.

“Mm.” Jason prompts. “The mysterious boy at the gala. I’m… on edge. Fed up with Bruce’s bullshit. I’d latch onto that kind of distraction.”

“Latch onto… me.” Tim blinks hard.

“You were a mystery, baby bird. I was a detective.” Jason clicks his tongue. “Besides, those parties were miserable. You would have been fun.”

[catdemontraphouse]

I’ve got a lot of “Nightmare Realm Blunt Rotation” written but I write extremely non linearly, like that’s just my natural work process? So nothing ready to post because it’s all filling and no bun, if that makes sense. This word sandwich hasn’t got the bread encasing it yet. I struggle with “beginning” and “end” but I’m a pro at random dialogue middle.

Maybe I’ll just figure out an upload structure somehow where that could work 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

What do you want me to attempt to finish first? Some of the chapters are supposed to take place later than others chronologically but like, you know, the whole I don’t work in order thing is a problem so… tell me what you wanna read!…plz?

⚠️Option 1- Chapter where Bill is forced to help Mabel with her crystal business livestreams and he becomes infamous for eating rocks and asbestos on Instagram

⚠️Option 2- Chapter where Pyronica and Amorphous Shape visit Gravity Falls to check on Bill, they end up as freeloaders in the Mystery Shack and they drive Stanley fucking crazy

⚠️Option 3- Chapter where Dipper finds out Bill is telling everyone he’s the Pines twins’ uncle and he’s so pissed about it

⚠️Option 4- Chapter where a serious Pines family fight breaks out after a discussion about a gorilla-orangutan hybrid gets out of control

⚠️Option 5- Mabel, Dipper and Pacifica attempt to include Bill in the town’s annual Founders Day festival as a form of “enrichment” and the results are interesting

⚠️Option 6- Mabel and Dipper’s grandpa Shermie comes to visit and I’ll figure out some kind of stupid drama between the three brothers involving sibling rivalry and Sherman Pines’ train otaku travel youtube channel

⚠️Option 7- Mabel and family discover that Bill has a keen sense of smell. Stanley, Bill, and Mabel’s Pet Kunekune pig Walter (who is a former Theraprism patient who was reincarnated) attempt a grift involving boutique perfumes that are not FDA approved and cause rashes as a way to profit off Bill’s olfactory talent

⚠️Option 8- Bill accepts a 7 day long affirmations challenge after Ford stupidly bets Bill that he can’t hack it in exchange for five minutes of Ford’s unfettered attention

⚠️Option 9- Pines family rents out Pacifica’s parents cursed lake house and stupid shit ensues, Bill being weird at the beach and annoying Ford

⚠️Option 10- Ford makes a messy deal with Bill for him to use his neuron re-wiring powers to restore Fiddleford’s busted ass brain at the cost of allowing Bill to move into a storage closet in the Mystery Shack instead of sharing a room at Mabel’s house with the pig. Can Bill and Fids manage to get along well enough to keep the peace and can Bill learn to stop being so needlessly jealous? Idk let the drama bitch-fest begin (not rly angst more like trashy reality tv, I don’t do serious for extended periods of time ok)

⚠️Option 11- Bill starts getting paid in valid US currency instead of bricks of cheese and decides he will become Ford’s sugar daddy in a cringe attempt to woo him (guy works part time doing crystal sale livestreams for Mable’s business he is not rich)

[oh-look-another]

whoops my hand slipped so now instead of starting on my lit project due tomorrow i have to analyse the circe saga <3

okay side note: this might go from a full-on analysis to incoherent rambling so heads up. uh also not in any order, especially not chronological. anyway let’s get this party started!! 

puppeteer

okay first one. wasn’t too sold on this one at first (not like the other ones *cough* wouldn’t you like *cough*) but like?? wow

circe’s voice!!

‘a woman’ ‘what’ 

ody just. brushing eurylochus away he sounds so donelike not done just. tired of life. if yk what i mean. like he doesn’t have beef with eurylochus specifically but like he’s just irritated with the world

the soldiers!! like if i were one of them i would have willingly get turned into a pig by circe (but like, i’m not a guy so idk)

the sounds of waves im not sure if it was actually there or just my imagination but still.

the start of the song echoes the melody of the first part of full speed ahead?? like i was singing it in my head before the words of puppeteer actually sunk in

it sounds so party-ish like i can imagine the vibes no wait i can feel the vibes it’s party vibes. i can imagine the soldiers getting drunk on the wine and lust. i can smell the wine. i can hear the music blasting from the shitty speakers hidden in the corners of the too-crowded room. i’ve never been to a party before. you can probably tell.

what was the thing that eurylochus wanted to say tho?? i’m curious. ppl who read the odyssey, was this interaction mentioned or made-up, and if it did happen, is it relevant to the plot? do we find out what he wanted to tell ody?

why is ody’s voice so deep

very gentle waves-esque music at the start. lulls us into a false sense of security. makes us think the island is safe. it isn’t. we’ve all been fooled by circe’s tricks.

‘there’s only so much more we can endure’ my poor boy this isn’t half of it

alternative take: they are traumatised babies we must protect them with our lives

alternative alternative take: and whose fault was that, ody? hmm? was it perhaps, the fault of a reckless captain who decided to fucking reveal his name-

oh my gods the way he just starts straight-up rapping-

‘we have to go save them’ ‘no we don’t’ well damn eurylochus who hurt you like this that was real quick

ody’s ‘damn’ like sir i know you’re contemplating running to said woman in question he sounds seduced already and he hasn’t even met the witch yet

eurylochus’ ‘okay’ sounds really dejected this probably doesn’t mean anything but that’s the point of an analysis so- 

hey hey hey don’t greet the mysterious voice why are you doing that i thought you guys learnt your mistake(s)!!

oh oh oh her voice is so pretty it’s so good!!

she’s so bold and confident she’s amazing ahhhhh

her revealing her name! this says something like yk ‘names have power’ i can’t remember if it was pjo universe or actual facts but the fact that circe’s so sure of her ability to defend herself and her nymphs she gives away her name to ppl freely

oh so that’s how you pronounce circe (i just assumed it had a silent e)

you’re the only one who stayed outside?? hmm? eurylochus? well at least you learnt something

haha the soldiers sound so happy to be there

i don’t blame them tho they’re super tired they just want and need a safe place to rest 

yeah that’s right don’t fucking underestimate women

uhm circe i don’t thing getting turned into pigs is gonna be the best part of these soldiers lives i think the best part passed before troy

no no no do not trust ppl who offer food did you not learn from the lotus eaters are you complacent who has the brain cell eurylochus give it back to the soldiers they need it more

awww thanks for the support circe <3

i would gladly let circe puppeteer me esp mythological!circe she’s so 

‘and it wasn’t quick’ oh. 

uh is this an inappropriate time to make a joke about furries bc pigs don’t have fur and the soldiers are dying-

‘the world does not tend to forgive’ ok lesson imparted from all-powerful being check

eurylochus hi yes you should have learnt not to abandon your friends uh but i don’t blame him tho poor guy just wants to get home (he never will)

‘but i can hardly sleep now knowing what we have done’ haha ody you’re not gonna like what comes next :3

‘i can still hear her still’ ooooh he’s Traumatised he has ptsd :))

‘i can only hope you’ll do the same’ ody go easy on him

oh circe is really protective of her nymphs

as she rightfully should

oh i’m done

wouldn’t you like

whoo my favourite 

like no offense to the others but hermes!!

his voice is so gravelly wow

his laugh sounds so mischievous fit for a trickster god

‘i must say what a brilliant speech u gave’ this implies that hermes was watching them, or more specifically, odysseus, for at least long enough to hear the conversation. which means that there’s a solid chance that hermes was in it for the gossip and stayed for the drama

there’s a betting pool up on olympus. probably. definitely.

‘you’ll need the blessing of a certain god’ when this gets an adaptation, hermes will probably do like a hair flip or something. it’s in character for him to do that, right? right?

he has an accent but what accent does he have

oh my gods hermes that was such an awful pun i had to laugh

‘hermes?’ okay hear me out ody sounds like a mystified child who can’t believe his eyes (or in this case ears)

the laugh 

he sounds more amused than anything else (he doesn’t really care, not right now, it’ll just be another fun tale to tell at parties)

was that a roar i heard?? a roar?? like the chimera?? 

oh oh oh when he’s describing circe he sounds so fascinated by her (probably me to my irl friends) like he doesn’t care? about the fate of the ppl he’s describing? he’s just? like ‘wow circe can do that isn’t that cool anyway-‘

like idk how to describe it

the emphasis he places on certain words it’s so cool to listen to (i’m running out of synonyms for amazing help)

oooooh the electric/techy feel to the song like ik it was explained in one of the videos that the gods have more electronic feel to their songs but it’s so!! cool!!

‘you can be hurt or you can beat her’ the play on words!! wow!! it’s just-

‘all you need’s imagination’ wow uh. this seems important. but uh.

‘and i call this root: holy moly’ hermes. i hate your puns. i hate them so much.

i am now compelled to explain the pun. damnit.

so basically only the gods can acquire the root. was it blessed by the gods? if it was, add a second layer to the meaning of this and ignore the question :)) and it rhymes!! holy and moly rhyme!! whoo

ody’s ‘ah’ he sounds so done

wait but hermes when he says ‘and i call this root: holy moly’ he sounds so proud of himself oh my gods like no that is not something to be proud of that is so awful ugh

‘hermes. thank you.’ oh? he appreciates his help? like he sounds so grateful wow

‘dont thank me friend you may very well die :))’ this further proves my theory that hermes is only in this for the drama?? okay yeah drama

‘good luck’ see it’s an afterthought. but he thought of ody. huh.

two more to go!!

done for

also was very very excited for this

did not disappoint

the intro is basically *epic fight music*

okay ody sounds like he’s smiling but not like a forced smile it might be genuine? like why would it be genuine? okay yeah it might be because he is confident he’s gonna win the fight. he has a god on his sight. it’s failproof. he has the flower. he doesn’t have to be scared. is this hubris?

‘through the years we seldom get a warm welcome’ okay ody. you were fighting a war. then you intruded into a cyclops’ cave. then you angered poseidon. of course you don’t get a warm welcome what were you expecting?

‘who me? all i did was reveal their true form :))’ u turned them into pigs :/‘ ‘huh.’ their banter wow.

*more epic fight music*

see the nymphs again!! she’s very very protective of them!!

‘i don’t mean to tip your scale’ ody stop lying. you did mean to tip her scale.

‘hermes gave it to you didn’t he’ ‘okay well yes fine but regardless-‘ i love love love the friendly banter between them idk but i think that in another lifetime under better circumstances they would have been really good friends

also implied that hermes has done this before so haha

‘friends i can’t neglect’ see i think this whole verse is the similarities between them see they could have been friends i know it i can feel it in my bones

*even more fight music*

the sword sound skjskjskjskjs

‘you’ve lost’ okay uh i think that was albeit too fast don;t you think so, ody? ody?

‘my nymphs are like my daughters i protect them at all costs’ yes see this is what i’ve been trying to say thanks circe

but the rhythm for this verse is so good it’s so ethereal wow

‘but everyone’s true colours are revealed in acts of lust’ circe. circe no. bad circe. stay away from ody he’s a married man

‘i’m not sure i follow’ oh ody. you poor, innocent child.

okay but his voice was so gravelly tho-

idk i don’t think circe was doing this to feed her own lust. like i don’t think she has feelings for ody or anything like i feel that she was doing exactly what she said and trying to find out what his true colours were so she could decide if she wanted to help him

last one!! not gonna like it a lot ‘cause seduction but hey greet the world with open arms am i right?

there are other ways

oh. this one.

i’m not really comfortable with this because there isn’t any point in seduction why does it exist ew

‘there are other ways of persuasion’ oh really? then show me your chimera i bet it’s cooler than whatever you’re gonna do to ody

‘there are other means of deceit’ this shows that circe is gonna convince ody to cheat on his wife but [spoiler alert] he doesn’t (for now) (i think) like deceit as in he’s deceiting his wife

okay i love the repetition here like ‘there are other…’ blah blah blah like wow. i like it. i don’t get it, but i like it.

‘want to save your men from the fire? show that you’re willing to burn’ woah. vfd core. so like this implies that she and her nymphs were planning on cooking the men-turned-into-pigs?? and also it’s a metaphor!! whoo my lit teacher would be proud of me (but less proud for not doing the project which is actual school work)

‘but there’s no puppet here’ okay so this shows that circe views ody as more powerful and resistant to her (and also her magic bc of the holy moly thingy) and less likely to fall prey to her charms (i would) 

ody doesn’t know if he can manipulate his way out of this problem hah

okay dont kill me for this but i think that the ‘just a man’ references in the song feel a bit forced bc they’re like,,, they don’t fit 

but. i think that like it’s ody trying to break out of the spell? that circe put on him to seduce him or smth like before that he was in sync then he tried to fight off the thingy by like going against the rhythm if yk what i mean

the transition from ‘forgive meeeee’ to ‘i can’t’ is so good aghhh

‘and she’s all my power’ ah this here is a clear piece of evidence that ody is the bottom in the relationship 

‘and let us puppets leave’ oh? he’s like sympathizing with her and like trying to see from her perspective so he can leave more easily

‘poseidon, eh?’ haha mood

oh they’re kinda friends whoo :)

‘i know of a brilliant prophet, problem is this prophet is dead’ *music stops momentarily, transitions to very underworld-y music* 

haha wait that was so funny

who was the prophet tho?

‘wait you’re helping us?’ he sounds so shocked

‘maybe one day the world will need a puppeteer no more’ this could imply that circe is suicidal?? whoops am i projecting

no but the genius lyrics said that the last few lyrics were sung by the soldiers they sound like theyre under a spell oh my gods imagine pigs singing this haha i think this is just like circe undoing the spell on them tho

whoo done!!

hi remember i’m just a random teen on the internet! no obligation to listen to me and my 10.37 pm rants! 

[professorspork]

the big 'Faunus worldbuilding in Newsbees' post

as requested by EVER SO MANY OF YOU (!!), I now embark upon a post to talk much more about the Shallow Sea Verses and about the Faunus culture and worldbuilding I did for Newsbees. I've talked about them a little bit before, and I'll try not to repeat myself too much there but there's gonna be some overlap.

I imagine when some of you asked me to say more about this, what you were hoping for was like a "here's all this great stuff I came up with for other traditions that I never got to use in the fic!" and that is--not what this post is, sorry. by virtue of the fact that this was, ultimately, a literary device very much devised to move this story forward, I didn't spend a lot of time thinking about in in ways that weren't plot-relevant. if you have prompts for, like, "how would they do/think about X" I'm delighted to give it a think, but it's not something I have just lying around.

instead I'm gonna talk about how it came about, why I did it, and what my priorities were

okay so I'm gonna take this in... I guess chronological order is the best way to make sense of it

from the outset of the fic's conception, I knew that I wanted it to be a reflection of my values. like. it's about unionizing a workforce, it's about socially-conscious community-building and class struggle and FUCK COPS. to disregard the minority oppression of the Faunus (which you'll note is something I always capitalize, for what I should think are now-obvious parallel reasons) in a world and a story like that just felt... not just insulting, but downright stupid. a missed opportunity. and I've always felt like this subject deserved much greater forethought and much better execution than canon provided, which I think can be described most charitably as "mostly serviceable" but is mealy-mouthed, inconsistent, and both-sidesy-whattaboutist at way too many points for me to feel like it merits any credit. like. if you're gonna do catgirl racism and intra-community disagreements over praxis, you gotta actually do catgirl racism and intra-community disagreements over praxis, you know?

(gee, I'm sure you're shocked Sienna is very much alive in Newsbees, wonder why that is)

ANYHOO

so that was thing one.

thing two is that this is perhaps the GREATEST ARGUMENT I HAVE for why I prefer writing everything in advance and then posting on a schedule, because I knew it was something I could then find my way into and then retcon back in, if needed, and that I therefore had the entire canvas available to paint on. and it's a good thing, too, because it saved my ass multiple times plot-wise and not just in this worldbuilding way.

to combine those two thoughts, the first time ANY of this actually came up in the drafting process was when I hit the Ilia scene in chapter 6. I knew what I wanted Blake to say to Ilia in that moment, which she absolutely couldn't say, which was: "I said the Mourner's Kaddish."

which: that's already a lot to unpack, so let's do that a bit! the first thing that drew me towards formulating my conception of Faunus culture around parallels to the diasporic Jewish experience is, of course, "write what you know." I'm not a racial or ethnic minority but I am Jewish, and so it was something I could use the 'draw from wellspring of personal knowledge and emotion' part of my brain for, rather than the 'radically and empathetically imagine the other' part of my brain. I've seen all sorts of fanon Faunus ideas where people drew on different and likely personal interpretations-- including things like the Faunus having their own language, Faunus interpolations of the Maiden myths and other Remnant lore having different values or being scaled more towards the God of Animals, Faunus having their own foods... if someone not-me had written this fic, this could have manifested in any number of ways. because the Faunus don't fit neatly into my (very American) notions of race, religion, or even X-men style "maybe we should regulate the people who have nukes for hands" minority/majority frameworks, I had the freedom to use the one that had the most personal meaning to me... and to deviate from that when it suited and felt appropriate. Neon's rightfully combative stance about Faunus mistreatment and how she reacts to it, for example, is far more aligned with the experiences of my friends and loved ones who are POC than it is anything I've personally gone through as a Jew.

so!

knowing, then, what my destination was (a Faunus cultural framework that would have specific death rites and rituals), I worked backwards from there. what makes a culture FEEL lived in is that people LIVE in it, that it relates to their everyday lives as well as its most significant moments-- what do we eat? how do we treat guests in our home? how do we handle life cycle events (birth/marriage/death)? without a country of origin, as the Faunus have none-- they made Menagerie, not the other way around-- and not wanting to go TOO explicitly religious by having there actually be some sort of dogmatic (har har DOG-matic) text about the God of Animals, I instead lit upon the idea of old poems whose metaphors have been transformed into material gifts. this felt intuitive to me probably largely because I'm Jewish (we're called the People of the Book for a reason lmao, we're all about interpretation and re-interpretation of text) but also, honestly, because the written word is WILDLY IMPORTANT in newsbees. they work at a newspaper! there's a reason the very last words of the story are Blake saying "for the record," which is a reporting pun. in hindsight, however, this is also sort of Sappho-y, which is also neat and, again, shows that ALL the ways I've experienced my own Otherness show up here.

having a text then gave me a scale of orthodoxy to work from, as in "very traditional people still recite these texts in a ceremonial way," but also a background radiation-level casual level of interaction, which is "yeah I leave shells at graves because that's what my parents taught me and I don't even really know why." this also means that all Faunus have the same sort of playbook to work from, regardless of where they're from geographically or what kind of Faunus they are.

once I had that in place, I immediately realized that whatever traditional Mourner's Verse there would be probably would feel kind of insulting re: what happened to the Amitolas, which is why I came up with the Traveler's Verse workaround. and the second I came up with that, I knew I could use it to connect Ghira and Kali back into the text at the end-- I'd been wanting to find a way to do that and hadn't come up with a method.

the first draft of that scene then promptly infodumped every thought I could possibly have about the Verses, immediately. @theseerasures teased me that it read like a Codex entry from Mass Effect, and she was 100% right-- and it totally interrupted the flow of the VERY EMOTIONAL scene with Ilia, which wouldn't do at all.

and that's where the 'writing it all before posting it' thing comes in. that infodumping then became the scene at Doc's in chapter 3. this also solved another problem I had, which was that in the VERY first draft chapters 3 and 4 were one very long chapter. I'd subsequently split them, which left chapter 3 quite short-- but at that point, the moment where Blake is upstairs getting her snack was only a brief explanatory paragraph. moving the Verses stuff back made the chapter a chapter, so it did a lot of heavy lifting for me. wanting the Verses to feel integrated, I also at that point went back and added the engraving on Tukson's door to the prologue, so that it would be seeded in from the start.

which is kind of to say that ALL WRITING IS CHEATING. we get to manipulate circumstances to best suit our needs! callbacks feel elegant and cerebral, but they're actually a very blunt and easy tool to use-- you get tons of mileage out of just establishing something and then bringing it up all the time. I'd already written the thing about Tukson being picky about book damage, and so I let that become a part of the Verses lore by saying it was a Faunus thing, and then doubled down on it with the "throwing the book at Ghira" anecdote.

as for what things mean what, the basic rule I gave for myself is that everything had to be common and easily-obtainable for a community often left impoverished and on the margins. that's why so many of them are food-based, because that's a very "even if we have nothing else, we have THIS" sort of thing. when coming up with the thing that would represent love, I lit upon honey BEFORE i realized "oh duh, lmao, bees" because... I'm an idiot, but luckily I figured it out after a bit. I was very enamored of the idea of it representing not just sweetness, but industry (as in "busy bees"), that love takes steady and determined work. the second I did think it up, the Velvet gag gift ("they're making fun of me") sprang to mind, though ironically it wasn't necessarily tied to the Mantle Bee yet, though that was also already a concept on the page.

probably the hardest thing to come up with was the NOT-honey gift for the epilogue (which ended up being nuts for growth), because I was like... is it a pen and paper for a first job? Is that too bougie? maybe a cute little desk succulent? but what would it represent?

and yeah, that's pretty much how I got there. it was a question of making something specific enough that it would feel authentic, but open-ended enough that I could make up whatever I wanted to suit the moment and have it all feel of a piece. from there, it was just about USING it-- keeping it in the back of my mind in Faunus-related scenes to see if there were ways I could weave it in somehow.

phew! okay I think that's pretty much everything. if anyone is so very enamored of the Verses that they'd like to use them for their own fics, you certainly have my permission to do so (with a link back to Newsbees for credit, please). I'm intrigued to see what you'd do with them! but also, like-- I love how multi-faceted and varied different interpretations of Faunus lore can be, and I'd love to see what y'all come up with for your own systems!

CONSIDER THE GAUNTLET THROWN. HAVE FUN OUT THERE.

<3

[harrowharks-iliac-crest]

It's becoming very clear now that Harrow's memories were altered between the Epilogue of Gideon the Ninth, and the (chronologically) first part of Harrow the Ninth.

In the epilogue, Harrow was physically healthy, full of grief, remembering Gideon, but not feeling her soul inside of her.

In Harrow the Ninth, she is physically very ill, barely even able to stand without throwing up. She's full of grief - manifesting in unplaceable emotions that she doesn't understand - she doesn't remember Gideon, she can't feel the soul of her cavalier inside of her.

I have a few theories on who could have altered Harrow's memories, and why.

In order of least likely to most likely;

Harrow herself did this, somehow. I don't see this as particularly likely, because it isn't part of Harrow's skillset.

She could have asked Ianthe to do this - Ianthe is more of a flesh magician than Harrow, and could possibly have done this; I still don't think she's that powerful.

The Emperor could have done this. He's very fucking powerful, and I feel like we've only had a very vague glimpse of what he's capable of. I don't know if he would, though.

One of the other surviving Lyctors could have done it - Ortus, or Augustine; I don't think this is terribly likely since they would have had to sneak into the Emperor's ship, unnoticed.

Mercymorn is still my primary suspect. She definitely has the powers to do it. She could have some motive, which we don't know about yet.

As for why,

Grief. This is the most likely, I think, if the change came from Harrow or someone (Ianthe probably - maybe the Emperor) acting on Harrow's request. Harrow was in so much pain in the Epilogue, and she couldn't feel Gideon's presence. She thought it would be better to forget about Gideon entirely, rather than live with the grief of having consumed someone she loved so much - “How dare you ask me to live with it?”

Gideon Nav was special, somehow, and knowing about her is dangerous. Her being different from conventional cavaliers might explain why her soul didn't pass into Harrow without problems. It's not too unlikely, given Gideon's mysterious origins and immunity to poison. This theory means Harrow's memories were likely changed for her protection, by someone else, without Harrow being supposed to know about it. But Harrow found out somehow, and conspired with Ianthe to give her the letters. Or perhaps the situation was explained to Harrow beforehand, and Harrow decided to write herself letters because she knew the process wouldn't be perfect, and at some point the whole memory construct would collapse.

Hmm.

Actually, upon thinking about it some more, Ianthe is moving up higher on the list of suspects. There was clearly some kind of conspiracy between her and Harrow pre-memory alteration. The memories aren't perfect - surely someone like Mercymorn would make sure it was perfect.

There's also the hallucination-notes.

The eggs you gave to me all died and you lied to me, so I did the implantation myself - you self-serving zombie - and you still sent him after me and I would have had him if I hadn't been compromised and he took pity on me!

I still can barely begin to think what this could mean. It could be a message from the person who altered her memory. "the eggs" - could be seeds of memory to "implant" in her brain. if that's true, "self serving zombie" supports the theory that it was a grief-request - probably Ianthe, armless, "compromised", who would hate it if someone she was meant to defeat, "took pity on" her.

That's all I got for now.

Clearly, the plot is leading up to this battle with the resurrection beasts, but all I've been given regarding those is crumbs, so I'm definitely concerning myself with the (smaller, less dangerous, but more intriguing) mystery of Harrow's memories instead.

... I'm definitely rereading both Gideon and Harrow before I start on the next book.

[definitelynotshouting]

62, 65, 81, 91

Ask me fanfic writer questions!

Hey Book!! :D wouldve answered these last night but as you know tumblr crashed on me 😭😭😭😭 so im answering it now instead!!

62.) what’s the weirdest reason you’ve ever shipped something?

Idk if this counts as weird per se but i straight up started shipping winteriron (Tony Stark x Bucky Barnes) because of THIS FUCKING FIC. It sold me on them SO HARD. Sometimes all it takes is one godtier fic that does everything right to get you hooked on a rarepair ✌️😔😔😔

65.) what is your favourite title for a fic you’ve written? 

If we're talking og titles i came up with myself, the title of my unpublished TES Oblivion fic is The Stars Have No Names, which ive always been fond of, especially combined with its planned sequel, But Those We Give Them-- which makes a full sentence that just sorta encapsulates the vibe of the whole thing in a way that really scratches my brain just right. This is closely followed by the piece i did for the DSMP Comics Zine, A Few E.G.G.s Short of the Full Scramble, which has multiple layers of puns loaded into it and makes me laugh like a lunatic every time i remember them

As for stuff that isnt original (aka song lyrics or poetry verses, which i steal from shamelessly), i'd have to say im most fond of sightless, unless the eyes reappear, which is the tma fic i wrote that accidentally predicted a decent chunk of the podcast's ending 😭 if i had a fucking nickel.... The verse is ripped from T.S. Eliot's "The Hollow Men" and i really loved how it just perfectly hits the vibes i was going for in that fic. Extremely on-the-nose titles are a game and brother i am WINNING

81.) if you could go back in time and give your younger self a piece of writing advice specific to you, what would it be?

"Hello tiny TJ. First of all, you are a transgender dyke. No this isnt relevant i just thought you ought to know. Anyway cool it with the perfectionism man one day people are gonna read a fic where every individual tag warning you've added is its own separate vine boom and you're gonna get tons of compliments on it despite the fact that it isnt what you consider fully polished. Got that written down? Cool. Now go forth and kiss women, peace<3"

91.) how has your writing style changed over the years?

My writing's always been pretty descriptive, but over the last few years its REALLY shifted into overdrive on the imagery. I think thats always been my biggest strength as a writer, and its something i really, really enjoy doing. As ive said in the past: if im not painting pictures with my words then what, pray tell, is the point!!!

The other thing ive noticed is that ive been dipping my toes into more experimental formatting, whether thats in regards to the story's structure (shout out to that time i planned to write a fic in reverse chronological order), the points of view (second person my beloved), different narration styles, or just the way the words on the page look-- something i know has been directly inspired by my cousin, who has an unpublished 85k Dead Space fanfic which replaces an ENTIRE CHAPTER with a twine game. The man is insane and i love him so much and one day i will bully him into finishing this fic because its not even halfway done what the fuck. Anyway thats my answer THANK YOU BOOK FOR SENDING THESE :DD

[adultswim2021]

Metalocalypse #31: “Dethrace” | June 16, 2008 - 12:00AM | S02E11

NOTE: I wrote this last night, but accidentally saved it as a draft instead of scheduling it to post. Sorry, bros.

Hey, I’m going easy on myself tonight. I deserve it after that last gigantic post. The Venture Bros. can take a lot out of me. Gosh, it’s a lot!

This one is a bit slight, and hardly excellent, but it's a nice hang with my personal close friends, the men from Metalocalypse Rock Band. In this one, Murderface is miffed that Toki and Skwisgaar have undermined his command performance of the Star Spangled Banner using nothing more than his dick and a bass guitar. They undermined Murderface by being in a high speed police chase, which interrupts the broadcast of Murderface rockin with his brain out. 

Speaking of brain out, the best scene in this episode are Toki and Skwisgaar at traffic school, watching an ultra violent educational video about how being irresponsible with your car can get your body all wet and in pieces. It is wet from your blood getting escaped from your body. Good lines, gruesome drawings, it’s the good shit of the episode. 

Murderface wants to do a convoluted event that’s a race and also a concert. Toki and Skwisgaar get involved by way of their community service. And Nathan Explosion and Pickles not only have nothing to do with the plot, but they make a point to just always be reading the paper whenever they are referred to. This is a funny meta-joke about how frustrating it must be to have a show like this and constantly have to come up with individual plots for each character. At least, I assume that’s what this is.

MAIL BAG

Hi this is Gabe Teplen the original voice of Moltar. I just want to say you are doing a great job and maybe give the original Space Ghost a spin sometimes. My granddaughters say it's just as funny as Coast to Coast.

Hi, my name is Mayor Giuliani, and I'm gay

I have a blog where I cover Adult Swim's original comedy shows in chronological order from the first stealth pilot premieres onward. every episode of every adult swim original program reviewed by a middle-aged dipshit. go here if you wanna start at the start

Hey, fuck you man, don't copy and paste stuff I say on other websites and then combine it with stuff I say on this website and send it to me anonymously. That is really fucking rude and it pisses me off. I'm actually pissed off about this. EAT SHIT MOTHER FUCKER

Should I go see Barbie or Oppenheimer? Let's date these blog posts. Which one are you more willing to see? Provided you get a big hamburger and fries with your movie either way.

You should watch any other movie. But if I had to pick between those two I'd watch Barbie. Oppenheimer just seems too boring, sorry. How big is the hamburger

Lesbian porno was like really good in the 80s but as time went on it just became so bad. Sure there are still hot women fucking but there is no sensuality. You can tell they are doing it contractually and have no love in licking pussy, ect. What do you think?

I don't like discussing sexual stuff because it's alienating, but I disagree. We are living in a golden age of sapphic erotica, and you need look no further than two girls I call Angela & Strawberry. Look them up. They lick, they suck, they finger, and they ... FUCK?????

You're supreme hatred of pitbulls is so funny. My aunt had a pitbull. She died.

I'm sorry to hear about your Aunt that got eatten by her own pitbull :(

I would prefer if you just said nothing than do the AI bit. I have to deal with my favorite fast food reviewer outsourcing his titles/descriptions to ChatGPT and it's quite frankly distasteful. The shit doesn't know anything about anything.

FUCK YOU! FREEDOM OF GENERATED SPEECH BITCH!! But by coincidence I've decided to retire the bit, but not because of you. It's my choice and I'm the boss and I'm the one that says how the rules goes.

[someinstant]

✍️ for the writing prompt?

Of course, Nonny! Let's see.

✍️ Share a line you’ve edited, and what it used to be.

Oh, this is actually a little tricky, because I write in a single document and overwrite as I edit. And I am one of those terrible people who just edits everything to death-- I have this thing where I usually need to read everything I've written aloud before I can get back into the swing of things and find the rhythm of the piece I'm writing. It's not a great habit, but it's one that I've had since undergrad, and at least I'm not just wholesale deleting whole pages anymore. But it does mean that it's difficult for me to know what I've changed, sometimes, because I'm so finicky and deliberate and I waffle back and forth on words with every read-through. But here's something that I think fits the request. It's from a story about Cassian and how quiet he is (look, it's a theme, alright) and a series of connected stories in reverse chronological order. This is from his Bad Idea Era pre-ANDOR:

He’d be lucky to find a fence who could get enough to recoup the cost of his off-world transport, let alone enough to keep Nurchi off his back.  He sure as hell couldn’t use Bix to move them when he got back to Ferrix.  

Cassian held up his glass and caught the eye of the bartender.

So there's nothing really wrong with that, except for Cass is about to meet some people and Things Happen, and I wanted to set the stage a little more, so it became:

He’d be lucky to find a fence who could get enough to recoup the cost of his off-world transport, let alone enough to keep Nurchi off his back.  He sure as hell couldn’t use Bix to move them when he got back.  She’d slam the door in his face—that, or they’d fall into bed again with their brains off, and then hate themselves for it when they started thinking again.

But it would feel good, the idiot part of his brain insisted, and he tried not to listen. [NOTE: NEEDS TO MOVE, STAYS STILL INSTEAD.] That was just the post-job blood bubbling under his skin, looking for an outlet.  Survival lust, one of gunners on Mimban had called it. Makes you want to fuck or fight, or both, he’d told Cassian after another volley of shelling had them huddling in a dugout, body to body, pulsing against each other. Don’t worry about it, the gunner had said, licking a bead of blood from his lower lip. It happens.

Cassian held up his glass and caught the eye of the bartender.

The [brackets] are how I handle ideas I haven't figured out how I want to write yet. The text is in bright red in my document so I don't do something idiotic and publish it with the brackets still there. It is also perhaps worth noting that I have bolded and put in bright red the SIX FUCKING TIMES I have used the word glass in two paragraphs. So that's something I'll be editing. Like, immediately. Ugh. The WORST.

[hourcat]

hi ! i'm currently writing fic and i saw ur post about having all your scenes fleshed out but having notes to them and it just made me really curious about your process and if u have any tips like how much you outline first, whether u write chronologically etc. bc i have no sense of organization and feel a bit like a headless chicken rn ! ty if u choose to share & good luck finishing ur fic i can't wait to read it 🥰

hi hi bestie!!!! first of all, HOORAY FOR WRITING!!!! i know it is such a fucking PAIN to actually sit down and do, so good on you for doing it! i feel like i need to be held at gunpoint these days. (i actually have an alarm set on my phone that goes off every day at 6pm that says "write for 30 minutes" and even then. sometimes gunpoint simply is not enough)

anyway HAHA i hope you weren't waiting for me to answer this bc i am truly the most chaotic, horrible writer there is. putting this under the cut so i don't ramble all over everyone's dash

honestly, it all depends on what i'm actually writing. for shorter fics (i.e., copium/kiss me more chapters) i can usually just sit down and write it in one sitting without any planning or anything! i'll like...write down the gist of the idea in a sentence and then just let my brain run with it. sometimes i'll get an idea so potent that i have to stop in my TRACKS and run to google docs and write down the sentence that has, like, almost fully formed. idk if other writers experience this or if its just me being unhinged.

but for longer form fics, i need to plan. soooo much. you would not believe the number of draft posts/google docs that are literally just. bullet lists of fic ideas that i want to run with. (so many skeletons i might as well be a graveyard! heh heh.) i used to be able to just write mindlessly and get away with it, but as i get older (and have more fuel/stamina to write longer fics!) i get more forgetful and more obsessive about the way i want certain scenes to go, so it ends up becoming a bulleted list. and it also is an ongoing list! like, with the NFL au for example - i had a general idea of how i wanted the fic to go, but as i started writing it, i got MORE ideas for scenes and moments, so those got added to my outline list. it becomes chaotic because all of a sudden i have like twenty-five scenes by the end and its like....girl.....get some help.....

it also becomes a fucking mess when i have ideas for future parts of a scene i'm writing and don't want to jump ahead but don't want to lose the idea so, mid prose, i'll do something like:

also FUCK writing in chronological order. in theory i would like to but in practice sometimes you're just in the mood to write one specific scene and i am of the belief that, if you're in the mood to write a specific part, you should just WRITE IT and ride the momentum whenever you can instead of trying to force that inspiration into something else just because it's "in order".

ultimately i feel like writers are never TRULY organized because like...there are always ideas bouncing around in our heads, ya know? but i find that outlining really helps me for the longer things! ESPECIALLY when you're inspired w/your plot. being possessed about a fic idea is truly an uncommon experience (at least. to me) so you gotta run with it whenever you can.

i hope this made sense? i'm literally a mess of a writer like ive been writing for a decade and i still have like. no idea how i get things done at all LMFAO. keep me posted abt ur fic process, darling!!!! organization is for chumps.

[violetren]

Aether Chapter 20

I AM SCREAMING.

I'm gonna try go through this semi chronologically, but know that the end has me screaming and I will be screaming for the duration of writing this and probably then some.

So first of all, everyone give it up for Maxine. Some part of my brain has tied her to Yzma from The Emperor's New Groove. Not voice, not the design, or the moral alignment... I think maybe what I'm actually latching onto is Eartha Kitt's swagger. Also a little bit the fact that I do believe Maxine is capable of murder, so far as cats can comprehend murder. Which is probably moreso than humans feel comfortable with.

Whatever it is, Maxine is fantastic.

I've been coming around to the fact that Sierra is by and large a good friend, but she's also a messy flawed person, and those two facts aren't mutually exclusive. Also I'm kinda guessing that since its post interview (and presumably post telepathic interrogation) and Sierra is still in the guest room capable of opening and closing her own door instead of a holding cell somewhere means she has been cleared. Which isn't surprising at all but its nice to have confirmation.

The good friend stuff shines through strong on points like affirming Maggie should join the High Guard because being here clearly makes her happy, and in her insistence that Maggie as she previously looked was worth more than Maggie every gave herself credit for being (and notably would not have been a pity fuck for anyone with actual taste).

On the more questionable side of things was the admittance that she'd sometimes use looking after Maggie whenever Maggie was physically or emotionally struggling as a way of avoiding her own problems. But like, that is only bad if you start prioritizing your "care" of that person over their actual needs or wants, and actively sabotage them from recovering too much in order to keep them forever available as a distraction. The rest of the time its just that looking after someone else was convenient and if it hadn't been caring for them it would have been something else. Taking extra shifts at work. Impromptu spring cleaning the whole house. 100% a video game in less than a week even if it means cancelling other plans. Shit like that.

But then things get MESSY!

Because the closest most readily available and most familiar coping mechanism of "care for Maggie instead" has already been called out because its currently just not possible. Maggie has big things on her mind but she's basically made her decision already and isn't struggling emotionally at this point, and she basically never has to worry about physical ailments again, so thats out.

And apparently that leaves us with Sierra wanting to fuck away her feelings?!?!?! Or at least throw herself into a relationship that feels safe and stable because Maggie's love for her has been a quiet matter of fact for years??? Which oooh boy... Bad baaaaaaaad timing, because its not really there in the same way anymore.

I don't think this is Maggie and Sierra falling into a romantic role reversal. At this stage I'm not convinced Sierra actually means what she was saying, only that she's had her life turned upside down and trying to grab onto the one familiar thing she didn't think would ever really change. But fucking hell what if she's for real? Will she be strong enough to accept the idea of Maggie being with someone else and not returning her feelings? It would arguably be harder for her than it was for Maggie because she'll live knowing she missed her window instead of spending the time thinking it was a question of incompatible sexualities. Would it lead to some kind of poly set up?

I think the most likely outcome is whenever Maggie gets back from wherever she noped out to and they can look each other in the eye again (or at least be in a room alone) Sierra apologises in much the same way she did for snapping at Maggie for not warning her Garrett was alive when their convo today first started, and for much the same reasons. She is not okay.

But I'll have to read to find out, so guess I'm gonna go do that now.

[kayzero]

Okay you said you wanted questions I have one! HOW do you keep track of your zwg stuff I've been asking myself this since the moment I found it like how did you go about it I can hardly figure out how to outline a plot that's conventionally structured and in chronological order much less something like this– okay ok lemme phrase it this way, from fluff-banter writer to plot-exposition writer, what's your process like?

For most of my longfics, this is how the process normally goes: I write a scene, throw it into a google folder. I build a road with that scene as the centerpiece. How do I get to that scene, what comes after that scene. Write more scenes, throw them in the folder. Then I get to a point where I have to look at the folder and go “do I want to invest my energy into turning this skeleton into a piece?” And the answer is usually no, because the minutia of writing all the in-between scenes will make me burn out. (Which is what happened in January.)

Zero Win Game, however, started as a concept instead of a scene: rework Zero Time Dilemma. Because ZTD was so fucking cool, but the execution was lacking to me. So I sat down, maybe six months after ZTD had released, and tried to think of what displeased me about ZTD’s execution, and how to fix them. Chief among them were shallowness of character motivations, improper pseudoscience exposition, and lack of character interactions. The rotating cast was born from that — “oh, that’s exactly 28 pairs, 4 timelines of 7 pairs each maybe?” — Game Theory Sacrifices.

And then I put it down and didn’t touch it for years.

But then I found it again! And, well. I have a very vivid imagination. (To be very specific, I’m pretty sure I have maladaptive daydreaming. I get trapped in my imagination some days, though I’ve gotten better about channeling it into writing.) I started seeing scenes play out in front of me — “Scripted” and “End Scene” (but not Scripted chapter 3) and everything on that timeline were actually the very first scenes I saw and wrote notes about.

Organization turned into a proper timeline outline that I desperately want to share but it spoils my timeline and this unknown format is actually incredibly important for storytelling. Each branch got its own subfolder. Scenes started getting thrown into places. I started asking questions like “what information do I need to impart when and what’s the best way to do it” and that turned into characterization and pseudoscience notes that got combined into the narrative and turned into chapters.

As for keeping track of everything, uh. My brain just. Works like that? It only took a few weeks to remember which fragments belonged to which timeline and then a couple months to correlate fragment titles to cast pairs without having to consult my outline.

[katsukikitten]

Synopsis: Assigned the grueling task of profiling the former hero Shouto you find yourself skulking around the most miserable parts of the city just for a simple touch of the skin. The hero agency promises your safety as you take a big risk going out into city along side some b rated heros instead of waiting until the villain at large is incapacitated. With false promises come false hopes as the thought to be passed out villain was just playing opossum, jewel eyes snapping open just to snap your fingers backward. Will you get away unscathed or will Todoroki Shouto haunt you?

Warnings: Villain Sho bb! Bit of branding, sex and angst near the end. Yandere?? Dub con/non con biting. Violence and depictions of child abuse (flash back not super detailed?) Upper 20s my guy ya know what he's 30 and you're like 29 and fueled by coffee and dread, manga spoilers

A/N & WC: do not look at me, the brain rot is REAL it's thanks to one gif what would suki say?! 3107

You're not sure how you end up in these messes but you always do. The worst part? You weren't a hero.

Hell you weren't even a sidekick.

Just a desk jockey who occasionally went out on the field, mostly to touch the skin of passed out villains in the middle of the decimation they created. Getting flashes of thoughts, memories, as their lifetime unfolded before your eyes. Not like an old VHS tape with speckled film and warped edges, no nothing like that. If it were then at least it would be in chronological order. How you see it is different.

Much different.

More difficult as it's more of an explosion of images. Like standing in a dark hub with millions of screens of various sizes as their brain plays out everything for you. Usually the most traumatic things are what you’re thrown into head first. As if the seconds have slowed to sloth paced ticks as the mind replays everything to save your sorry ass before you die.

Like your own mind is doing now. Looking for that split decision you made that's saved you before. Except nothing comes.

Nothing but boring flashes of life. Of parents who you left half away across the world, of a string of ex boyfriends and girlfriends. Of past crushed and unrequited love. Of the thousands of other people's memories that you gleaned into to do your job.

Building profiles on a lot of fucked up people.

They said you'd be safe, that the villain wouldn't come to. Little did they know he was playing dead. He bent your two fingers straight back before you could reach out and touch the large nasty red scar over his eye. Shortly after that he threw up a large wall of ice freezing everyone within a ten mile radius before taking you and slamming you against the brick of an alley by your throat. His red and white hair is pulled back into a bun at the top of his skull while the lower half of his face is covered with a black cloth mask. Skin tight shirt that leaves his muscular arms exposed but covers his adams apple paired with tight black jeans.

The same outfit he's worn for the past six months your team had been following him.

"Are you stalking me little hero?" He moves his grip from your throat to your wrists, pinning them over your pretty little head.

"N-not a hero." You stammer, struggling in the grapes of his large palm.

"Then what else are you?" You don't answer him, can't. Too busy trying to remember how to form words now that your tongue was molten lead.

"You were so mouthy before. What happened?" He pulls the mask away from his mouth, giving you a full view of his handsome face. Your skin heats up, he looks much different in person and up close at that. His gemstone eyes sparkle in the late afternoon sun. One smokey quartz and one stunny sapphire.

He was breathtaking. The deep tones of his voice, the power in his stature and the way he smelled.

No one told you he smelled like home. Like a hot wood stove starving off the biting winter air. Like warm blankets on dreadfully snowy nights. No one said how his scar looked up close. How the burn was still an angry red as if it couldn't forgive who marked him.

How sad his eyes looked even if for just a moment on his normally cold and expressionless face.

"For months you said you'd figure out my next attack to help bring me in." He leans closer, a mirthless smile on his lips, "So take me in. I've been so bad haven't I?"

He tilts his face pressing his nose to your throat, lips trailing over your quickened pulse. Teeth grazing the supple skin now and again as a tease.

A promise for what's to come.

"S-S-stop. They'll find you. They'll rescue m-me." You struggle to speak, dazed by his hot and ice cold palms caressing your skin, by his smell while he smiles with delight.

He's got you right where he wants you. He noticed you pretending to be his little shadow after the second day a few months back. If he were any other villain maybe it would have worked out. Maybe your tiny portfolio on him would have helped predict his next attack and you could have helped organize a great ambush. Like you did with all the others before him.

But he couldn't help but notice you. You weren't obvious, you were quite good in how you didn't stand out. How you blend in with the crowd, a face almost lost with your average looks. But to Shouto, you were a beauty.

Ethereal and now that he saw you up close he wasn't sure he would ever be able to let you go without having a taste first.

You must find him attractive too, what with how your pulse races every time he presses his lips to the point in your throat. How your skin heats against his and how you occasionally rub your thighs together.

"Why so shy now? Your voice is so small, little one." His overly sweet voice drops into a deadly growl, "Are you nervous? Ashamed that you're turned on by the big bad wolf?"

Before you can answer he knocks his knee between your legs, his strong thigh rubbing into your sex before his mouth is on your throat. Teeth leaving beautiful pink indents as he threatens to puncture skin.

All the while you let out a long, loud moan that has him grinning into your vulnerable flesh.

Just like a cat Todoroki Shoto plays with his meals before he devours them.

"Aw look at how sweet you sound, Love." He chides, "I've been wondering what you sound like when you're aroused. What you'll sound like when you're bouncing on my cock."

"Todoroki-" His hot palm pressed against your throat dangerously, burning hot as you wonder if the shape of his palm is your newest necklace. His eyes a flash of murder as he growls out a heavy, nasty.

"Don't." He squeezes his eyes shut as if to compose himself before his voice is dripping syrupy syllables, "It's Shouto."

You stare up at him, words lodged in your throat under the weight of his too hot palm. His voice dips again.

"Say it." He snarls, it's as if a mask is cracking and he doesn't like it.

Hates what hides underneath.

"Sho-Shouto." You barely rasp before his smile returns.

"Good girl." He purrs, grinding his knee against your clothed cunt as a reward. Hand cooling and loosening as soft whimpers fall from your pouty lips. Occasionally he'll bite at them, those pretty little lips on your cute little face. Like he can't get enough of you or the sound. Like he wants to bottle it up and keep it for when he feels too icy.

Numb.

Like you call the fire that licks up his veins and in his loins when he's felt nothing but cold for years.

You can feel his hard length pressed against your thigh, as he half ruts against you while grinding you against his knee. You're unbearably wet as he toys with you even before he's touched your skin. Ripping open your grey blouse, popping every button before he pulls the fabric you so nearly tucked into your skin tight jeans.

"Lovely." He marvels over the lacey bra you wear, a deep blue with a little red bow in between your breast, "Wear this for me, my pet?

You say nothing and he sighs, leaning closer to your throat until he bites down harshly. Tasting blood on his tongue as you cry out with a mixture of pain and ecstasy as he teases the weeping marks with his tongue.

"It's quite boring if you don't respond, my love." He says it so softly, as if this were a simple game of twenty questions over coffee, "Didn't you chase me down for this?"

"That's twisted." You mewl as his knee hits your clit just right. Moments stretching into what felt like hours as you felt your body begin to over heat. Betraying you as you already felt so close to coming undone from a few bites and dry humping.

Panting you felt cagey, hungry even as your hips bucked into his powerful thigh.

"It must be true. Look at you." He leans back to marvel over you before he rips your bra from your body, exposing your erect nipples to his prying eyes.

"Trembling from so little contact." He cups your heat softly and then roughly as his eyes rove over your face. He must like what he sees, like how your pretty mouth forms a silent O from his touch. Before he reaches up and tears your jeans from your body, ripping burning away the crotch of your panties carefully while ice collectes around your wrists to hold you in place.

His cold fingers swirl around your nipples as his warm hand hovers over your sex. Feeling the warmth radiating and wondering just how wet you are for him.

"Your pretty little pussy must be drooling for me." He sighs as if he were in love, "Think that's true?"

You hold your breath unable to answer. Too embarrassed by how right he is, how you have a second pulse between your legs. He flicks a finger, just grazing your outer folds and when he feels your arousal he growls. Lashes fluttering before he holds eye contact with you. Roughly spreading you open with two fingers, his middle searching for your seantive bud. When he finds your clit another one joins his middle as he circles around it roughly. Occasionally passing over it, pressing and prodding at you as your knees buckle.

"Fuck, fuck." You moan, loudly enough it echoes back to you in the alley.

"So you do like me?" He chuckles, "Or at least you like my fingers I should say."

He keeps up the deadly pace, switching from hands so you know what burning hot and ice cold fingers feel like against your most sensitive nerves. While his mouth explores your chest. Biting and sucking, leaving beautiful blackened marks. Purple blooms and pink thorns in neat little rows tail from your throat to beneath your nipples. As much as you try to hold it back your body cannot help itself. Fueled by intense instinct as his comforting scent invades your senses, the battle of hot and cold against your skin as the coil snaps under the pressure. Arching your back towards him as you buck your hips wildly. He presses his head to your shoulder as he pants with delight, pulling back to watch you whimper. Watching you as if he had hearts in his eyes.

"I could watch you do that all day my pet." And he makes good on his promise. Pulling sound after pretty sound from your lips as his fingers send you to new heights.

You're sobbing now from the number of times you've soaked his digits. From the bites he's left across your breasts and throat. Whimpering and whining as he pulls another one from you.

Shouto watches the fat tears fall from your long lashes with delight, shoving two fingers up into your fluttering cunt as he laps up the salty droplets.

"So pretty." He curls them, making a come here motion in your velvety walls causing you to wilt beneath his touch, only to explode as black dots blossom against your vision.

"So responsive." He sighs, pressing a tender kiss to a bruising bite, to the small burn he's left against your throat from earlier. He pulls back, fingers still tucked away safely within you as he looks you over.

Somehow, somehow his thick fingers weren't enough. You needed more. Hungered for more as your hazy mind thought about what it would be like to be split open on his cock.

To be fucked so stupid you forgot why you were even in this unfamiliar prefecture.

Hell you were already beginning too.

"Please." You say so softly and he leans towards you, tilting his head so his ear is close to your mouth.

"What did you say my love?" He mocks and yet his tone makes it sound as if he really didn't hear you, "I didn't catch that."

"Please Shouto. Please."

"Hmm what does my pretty girl want?" Another coax against your spongy spot, "Use your words."

"Please Shouto. Please please please. I need you." Begging, begging a villain for his cock in a back alley way was the last thing you thought you'd ever do.

But you were burning alive only to be doused too quickly. Too slowly with each flayed nerve ending wanting more. Craving it.

With only one man who could soothe them with gentle strokes of icy fingers.

He leans away from you faking a face of understanding.

"Oh!" He chuckles, "You want me to fuck your pretty little cunt?"

You nod quickly and it pulls a laugh from him. Deep in his chest and the sound makes you sigh. Relief floods over you as you watch him unbuckle his belt with one hand while the other melts the ice that pinned your arms overhead. The pain ebbing in your fingers a ghost to the pleasure that fried your nerves.

"One rule, angel eyes." He says softly but you can hear the underlying venom in his tone, "Just don't touch my skin."

With that he prods your entrance with his fat cock, easing into you as your hands instantly find his shoulders, and the covered part of his throat. Clawing at his back as you coo into his chest from each teasing roll of his hips.

"Need more." You whine knowing full well his length wasn't fully buried inside of you. Tears soaking his shirt as he smiles down at you.

"Yea Angel, you need me that much?"

"Yes. Yes Shouto. Please." His hips thrust on their own from your whiney voice. From how you're desperately clawing at him while he breathes you in. Pushing you roughly against the scratchy brick wall, supporting your weight as he plays with the mounds of your ass. Your legs wrap around his thick waist

"So tight." He mumbles to himself, relishing the way you're forced to mold to his sheer size with desperate flutters of your cunt. Coating him in a warm slick before he rolls his hips again. Hitting all the right places as you cry out. Moaning over and over until you barely know your name.

Just his, a cry of Shouto. Shouto please. Vision fading in and out while he fucks you into oblivion.

Melting into him, sweaty forehead pressed into his throat as his groans and the slapping sound of your bodies egg you both on. Until that coil starts to wind tightly again as you feel his cock begin to twitch within you. Pulsing with stuttering hips as your body races to match his release.

Grinding your hips to meet his as he pants. Nudging his cheek against you to get you to face him as his mouth crashes into yours. As you moan into his mouth while his tongue explores yours. Grunting as your cunt fills with a pleasant warm sensation, your hands move on their own and without thought. Cupping his face to kiss him again, fingers ghosting over his scar and then it happens.

That slow motion as you're warped into that small dark room.

Fire, so much fucking fire as screams echo around you. Blue flames, orange ones dance and meld together while the dreadful feeling of being powerless settled deep in your sinew.

"Touya! TOUYA!" His voice is raw, throat burnt from the intense heat. His older brother lie motionless as Shouto breaks free from what was supposed to be his closest friend who was holding him back. The jade haired man rendered powerless himself, as Endeavor did the unthinkable.

He slides on his knees to his broken and battered brother. Of his charred skin, even by his own doing, that burns into Shouto's retinas, his nostrils. Hell he even feels it in his own skin as his brows furrow. Cradling his older brother to him as his vision blurs.

"We were supposed to get a bowl of Soba together." He sniffs, and tears fall down onto his brother's face. His blue eyes dulling as he smiles up weakly at him. Voice so, so fucking quiet as he says.

"In another life, Sho, I'll eat all the cold soba you want." He coughs, smile fading as he barely rasps out, "A better brother too."

And with that bright blue flames are snuffed out as something new boils over in Shouto's chest. In his heart that freezes and heats again.

Unstable.

He felt fucking unstable.

And he wanted everyone else to feel that way too. To watch the world burn in his white hot rage. To freeze hell over just to raise it again.

He wanted everyone in the entire fucking world to know that Todoroki Shouto wasn't a Todoroki anymore.

That Shouto wasn't his hero name anymore.

Suddenly an old tatami door slams open, quick flashes of vomit, tired, beaten little body and yelling echo through the darkness before a blaring white light blinds you.

A whistling kettle that slowly crescendos as a woman speaks in hushed voices.

"He looks so much like him. He's going to become him."

Her voice is broken and clear at the same time. A phone pressed to her ear as she shakes. Sweats despite her cold blood as the kettle gets louder.

And louder.

And louder.

Until small hands open the door.

A quiet.

"Momma…"

Before the screaming kettle dies. A splash of water that's hot.

Too hot too hot too hot too hot.

Too fucking hot for a five year old to feel over his little face. His tears falling and falling and falling. Voice a cracked sob of sorry momma sorry momma.

As if he poured the kettle onto himself.

Before you can see anything else you're ripped from the eves of his mind. He's panting, sweating from reliving what you've seen as his face pales.

He holds your hands tightly against his chest. Still holding you up precariously against the wall, it all happened in less than a breath or two.

"I didn't mean-" He shakes his head and you let your voice drop to nothing. He stares into your eyes for a long, long time before he says anything.

"Now you've seen me." He growls, butting his forehead against yours roughly.

"Now you're mine."