#it's my fault: even as I was drawing it I was like “is this panel clear”
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My ass did not see the enemies in the bushes. I only saw that coin
you 🤝 Croissant
#the way I just snorted LMAO#it's my fault: even as I was drawing it I was like “is this panel clear”#as it turns out it wasn't but it's also funnier this way#asks
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Men only want ONE THING and it's DISGUSTING (Guy who's uour best friend who's always happy to see you who visibly lights up and sparkles when you enter the room who's comstantly looking out for you and doting on yiu just a little bit and making sure you're taken care of and who you trust so mucj so completely that you can share a bath and sleep side by side amd you'rw. Best Friwneds...)
AND YET. AND YET. Moe has something Worse than self-loathing going on. Like this is just denial at this point. And for WHAT (PSYCHOLOGICAL REASONS. IT'S SO DIRE)
#feh#NITPICK TIME. breakfast panel i should have given alfonse more easily stealable food but#i just went w eggs on toast w bacon just cause that's like. one of my staple safe foods LMFAOOOO#maybe imagine a hash brown. i do like hash browns...#i thought i had more nitpicks actually. any off modelness is just perspective/moe wilting and dying in that one shot.#or a consequence of drawing REALLY REALLY TINY. hitting new levels of drawing So Tiny#if i had more room to work with i would have figured out a pose where moe is still holding the bear while being hugged by alfonse#also sorry i drew his meat huge. in that final illust. as if it's my fault...........#anyways whole point of this comic is. moe is so completely cherished and adored. it is surrounded by adoration in that last panel#like. the environmental storytelling of it too. wearing one of alfonse's shirts (stolen) and has The Bear#it is so. so. SO deeply cherished and adored. and yet. it has a very hard time even just daring to believe that.#anyways this comes w the same level of deep embarrassment like i might as well have just posted porn. it's that level#so you have to be extra nice to me.#nothing wrong w that for the record i'm just shy. 🧍#fe alfonse#moe tag#summoner oc#my art#my comics#final nitpick actually i feel like the proportions are a bit off in the last illust... which is a shame bc i love the faces so much#but also moe is just. a small round guy. cursed w the transmasc babyface. many such cases.
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Tainted batch (Patreon)
#Doodles#Just Desserts#Villainsona#Fine nevermind >:(#It's so weird to be posting vent-adjacent stuff while I'm doing so well currently haha#I started this months ago and have significantly improved my mood since then pfft ♪ I'd hope!#There wasn't anything specific at the time anyway just a thought circling around that I figured Charm would be more affected by#Considering most things for her are heightened in comparison haha <3 She'll get therapy someday#She also deals a lot in sublimation through art! And sometimes that means literally taking the materials and using them elsewhere#Honestly it's pretty cool that she can reconstitute her art :0 Drawing is a little different haha#I hadn't realized it'd been as long as it's been since I last drew Cirrus :0#Oh yeah Cherry Shortcake actually has a first name now lol#A few residents do! If you remember my mention of Aria from a while back - Marshmallow Fluff - I think those are the current three?#Still haven't really pinned down a naming convention haha...I've been thinking about three-letter last names for what feels like forever now#She was also an early contender for Digitally Rendered Resident huh... I could at least stand to name the others that have gotten that lol#So many things I wanna do with her - really want to finish her Biased Narrator fic sometime just dunno how to end it hrmngh#Anyway lol she gets a one-panel cameo and takes over the post pft no! Charm time!#Evil Time Charm time - kicked up her pulse as soon as she remembered#She kinda sorta remembers what happened but more than that remembers the Emotions - feeling Laughed At#And clearly it's [this specific thing]'s fault that she feels foolish! Avoid [this specific thing] and never feel foolish again Guaranteed!*#*Not actually even remotely close to a guarantee lol instead she's just avoiding something that at one point made her feel good#So easy to turn a positive memory into a negative one with just a change of framing huh?#I can't think of anyone in her life who would exploit that fun little feature in her outlook not even one!
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Alright, I'm just gonna bite the bullet. Worst that can happen is I make a fool of myself. I've been working on superhero stories, versions of the same universe since I was in 8th grade and what I want more than anything is to modernize superheroes, create a world where they act for all people's social good and take representation to the highest level I can think of. From your position of expertise, what can I do with the creation of disabled characters that would buck the trend, do some good, and show a good side. The non-prosthetic and non-corrected for disability rep in the genre is basically nil, I have no ideas and nothing to draw on. I guess I just wanna know what disabled audiences might like to see for once in their lives.
Hello!
Disabled superheroes are awesome. There's really few of them but the ones that we do have are often really important to us - you can look at the reactions to Sun-Spider being first introduced to the Spiderverse, back then I couldn't open my fridge without seeing that one panel where she explicitly says she has Ehlers-Danlos.
Here are a few suggestions of what I'd like to see in the superhero genre:
Superheroes with facial differences. Comics love to use us for their ugly disfigured evil villains but not much else unfortunately. I'd kill for a superman type hero who saves people with a smile and a facial difference on his face. Especially for superhero stories that are geared towards kids and teens, we just desperately need something to help with shifting the public perception of people with facial differences from "evil and ugly" to "people that can be awesome". A hero with burn scars, with Treacher Collins syndrome, Bell's palsy, neurofibromatosis... anything.
Superheroes who use disability aids (and still need them when doing their job!). Sun-Spider is an awesome example, she swings from her crutches and has a spider wheelchair. That's cool as hell. But even a less in-your-face aid would be great. A superhero flying above the city with her ankle-foot orthoses visible would go really hard. Also, superheroes who are concerned on how much these things cost and try their best to make sure they're still functional while they save the city.
Heroes with different causes of their disabilities! The vast majority of morally good disabled characters were involved in An Accident or some sort of Attack that disabled them. That's not bad or wrong at all, but I think in media is kind of oversaturated with this specific portrayal when a lot of people have progressive or congenital conditions. We need more stories that show those who were born disabled as heroes equal to those who were born abled and spent most of their lives abled. Superheroes with cerebral palsy, chromosomal disorders, congenital rubella, achondroplasia, all the disabilities that tend to get ignored despite so many people having them. Same for really common chronic illnesses, diabetes or COPD are criminally underrepresented.
Disabled superheroes that aren't saints because of their disability. This is the whole "disabled person can do no wrong" trope that appears sometimes. I'm mentioning it since superheroes are more "perfect" than most characters in other genres, so try to not make it so the disabled ones can do no wrong. Disabled people can still make mistakes that are their fault, make poor decisions, or just simply be angry sometimes.
When there's no active superhero action going on, show the normal human parts of the disabled experience. Depending on the demographic you're writing for it would be different things, but there are some fairly universal concepts like inaccessibility, microaggressions, or just boring things like the prosthetic leg no longer fitting well after the character gained some weight. If your characters are from the US, don't be afraid to mention that their insulin costs are barely affordable with their superhero pay. Show how the common everyday kind of ableism affect them when they're in civilian mode. This will make it much more authentic to disabled readers.
These are my suggestions, and I hope they are helpful. My last advice is to have multiple disabled characters, and in different roles. Maybe a character with late ALS can no longer do superhero fighting, but he can still be a wonderful parent. Maybe the character with Usher syndrome is more interested in the hero than being a hero themselves (disabled heroes in relationships!). Maybe the character with phocomelia can't be a hero yet because she's six, but she can train hard to be one when she's older. Keep it varied, have them come from different life situations and have different goals just like abled characters do.
I hope this helps!
mod Sasza
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tged webtoon ep 163 spoilers and thoughts that are making me procrastinate on like all of my work but its totally fine below the cut
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i am so serious i was completely tricked into thinking this would just be a light episode with some ominous foreshadowing but still some answers for how to defeat fate. i thought we'd be in silly haha territory now and that soon we'd reach the end and everything would be wonderful now and they can finally have what they want. I WAS PROVEN WRONG
YOU. YOU TRICKED ME FROM THE GETGO BY SETTING THE MOOD OF THE EP TO BE SILLY OFF THE BAT. YOUR STUPID CUTE HAIR BEING MESSY WHEN U WAKE UP AND THOSE SILLY ASS D*SNEY ANIMALS. YOU YOU YOU YOU RAPHAEL YOU FOOLED ME
it's super cute and funny that his singing and his general demeanor is so fairytale esque that animals and people just love him even though he tried to destroy what they were working on . he looks adorable with messy hair. i wanna see it more. cute and blond. but also. FUCK YOU
like we went from that to this and i was like "oh my god they're gonna have a bonding moment" and i was so so happy i just,, i really thought,,,,
like he looks so pretty here!! and then javier says something so sweet and so javier-brand of affectionate and they're being funny about it and it's so cute and they're all smiley afterward in the reflections of the water so its like "awww stupid fucking idiots being happy at each other without even really knowing it i love them so much" AND THEN.
STUPID FUCKING OMINOUS REFLECTION GOT ME ALL WORRIED. BUT THEN I THOUGHT OF RAPHIE AT THE START AND WENT "nahhh thats just. yknow. the normal foreshadowing at something bigger. they haven't even gotten answers yet. it's fine" oh lynn. oh girl you had no idea.
like they're so close to the truth cmon they wouldnt dump what they need to do to stop fate AND whats going on w javier at the same time right? ha. ha. ha.
ominous panels aside POOR LLOYD,,, OF ALL THE SECRETS HE COULD HAVE CHOSEN,,, he had no idea its not fair </3 we got blushy lloyd as a result i love this panel btw he's very very cute. super duper bug of him. i really like that the artist has been drawing the two of them at this angle a lot recently they look so stupid i like it a lot
ALSO JAVIER DO YOU. HAVE SOMETHING YOU WANT TO SAY. WHY DID HE ASK THAT I. JAVIER U CANT JUST ASK PEOPLE HOW DEE- WHAT THE FUCK
and then we got hit w javier being worried and i was like "man me too buddy, im worried too but im sure itll be oka-"
DEATH FLAG. WHY. WHY DID YOU HAVE TO THINK THAT LLOYD OH GOD. i read this and my worry that was briefly washed away IMMEDIATELY came back . tged is very good at giving me tonal whiplash. i dont think thats a bad thing but also its not good for my health either so. /lh
AND THEN WE GOT HIT WITH THE JEWEL OF TRUTH SECTION AND. AAAAHHH AAAAAAAAHHH the darkness that lloyd is in, he's all alone when he hears this god i . oh god i have so much to say okay
it's kind of hard to go shot by shot with this section because all my thoughts are overlapping with each other but ill try my best???
he's immediately pushed into communication between just him and the jewel and shrouded in a very very isolating darkness. there's so so so much empty space and all my yapping about how much lloyd has been isolating himself for the sake of finally protecting his loved ones kind of comes to a head here. and then we hear the truth...
lloyd is a BUG. the fact that he EXISTS is a problem that has been the catalyst of all the pain and work that he and javier have had to go through, so so early in the story. he's essentially being told that its HIS fault fate is threatening their lives. AND WOW THAT HURTS. how do you cope with being told that?? how do you manage that???
and on TOP of it all, in order to fix it, he has to choose. rid the world of this bug, or let the bug take over. THAT'S SO EVIL
the only way to protect his loved ones is to forfeit his protection over them, giving up his life. and yet the only way for him to continue being there to protect them is to lose the life of the one he absolutely loves most, javier. WHAT THE FUCK. WHAT THE FUCK WHY WOULD THEY DO THAT
the moment he hears this he falls to his knees. im so fucking ill IM SICK . THIS IS SICK AND TWISTED!!!!!!!!!!!
some more thoughts on the language and just. inherent despair of this section:
i think the choice of calling lloyd a bug is so so so heartwrenching. i don't know if it's an intentional thing by the writer/adapter or if it's just something they defaulted to since the world is considered a system, but either way it makes me so damn emotional
i'm a computer engineer, so i take some computer science classes too as part of my major, and one of those fun facts that you learn in those classes is that debugging/bugs became common terminology in compsci for a very silly reason. "bugs" as a word to describe error and defects had been present before, but it became conflated with programming due to a team of programmers actually finding a moth, a true to life Bug, interfering with their computer and thus messing with their program.
see, the JoT could have called lloyd anything. an error, a mistake, a problem, hell even a glitch would have worked. but they specifically said bug (and again whether or not thats intentional is up for debate but i will treat it like it is)
and the thing about bugs, the thing that haunts me now, is that without them the rest of the program (theoretically) works fine. if that moth hadnt entered the computer of those programmers, then their code would have been operating smoothly. the system would be chugging along well.
the knight of blood and iron would be functioning just fine.
yeah it'd be sad, yeah javier would have lost everyone, but it would have gone exactly as the program was written. the memory allocated for the class lloyd_frontera would be freed, and the story wouldn't have had to call on it, ever. but lloyd, the bug, the moth, stuck around. errors ensue.
and often, bugs are HUMAN error. it's a problem in a human design, not a natural glitch or mistake. the moth wouldn't have been able to enter that computer if it was built differently. bugs do not appear naturally. and they do not go away until you go back to where the bug appears and FIX IT. lloyd cannot fix the story, he can NEVER achieve the happy ending he's always wanted, because the program will always be bugged because of HIM.
suddenly too, all the little changes that have happened in the story thus far make so much sense. all of those events happening EARLIER than they should have completely tracks.
the choices lloyd made - to defeat neumann, defeat lacona, go to cremo, go to the capital - pushed javier's presence ahead, and i know that's like really really obvious, but coupled with this bug analogy i feel insane because
something that's very common in programming in general are function calls, where on the side you have the function written out all complete, and in your main code you can just say the name of the function. when it compiles, itll know what to refer to when it sees the name in your main code.
something else thats very common is conditionals! y'know, your classic "if (comparison here) then do (this thing here) else (do this thing here)", you might have seen this before (or not, im not sure how well versed tged tumblr is on programming which is why im explaining this)
and u think back to javier being there EARLY and oh. ooohh....
if (javier.location == magentano.event_location(banquet)) {
kyle_betrayal(alicia);
}
this function, this betrayal, was called early. THIS WAS CALLED EARLY because a certain character object, lloyd frontera, changed the state of javier's location way sooner than it should have happened. a bug. a bug. a bug. a bug made the code jump to this conditional. he's been a bug this whole time
and you think to when the glitches on javier first started appearing and oh. oooohhh. the object referred to as javier, disabled the "protagonist" variable on him and passed it onto lloyd. but that won't do, because all these functions for the ENTIRE STORY rely on javier's class object. how can it call on lloyd instead? lloyd should have been freed, aka the memory storing his little array of data, should have been REMOVED. CAUSE HE WAS SUPPOSED TO DIE
theres more examples of this throughout the whole story that maybe ill list another day (as much as im yapping about it, its really not that hard/deep on figuring out where things were called early lol) but yeah yeah yeah. yeah this is so so evil and i cant believe i didnt put two and two together earlier. this analogy is SO EVIL WHY WOULD THEY DO THIS TO ME
apologies for the jargon btw. i have no idea if i explained this right or if anyone else really knows what im talking about but i've been losing it over this for the entire weekend ALKDFJLSDKF
WHATS WORSE IS THAT IVE BEEN CALLING LLOYD A BUG FOR LIKE. ACTUAL MONTHS. I WOULD REFER TO HIM AS A CREATURE AND AS A LITTLE ITTY BITTY BUG AND NOW I FEEL SO SO TERRIBLE BECAUSE HE REALLY WAS A BUG. I MADE A SHITPOST AND EVERYTHING (that ill prolly post later) THAT I HAD NO IDEA WOULD. AGE POORLY SOB SOB SOB
I AM SO SO SORRY LLOYD. I DIDN'T KNOW I DIDN'T KNOW I DIDN'T KNOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
sniffle,,, sob,,, anyway,,, thats enough yapping about bugs and programming and lloyd being a bug,,, back to the anguish
the following section is just. god ow ow OW. the shaking linework, the shadows setting in at the top with the dramatic bottom lighting, and the blur on javier as he loses focus and starts truly, truly panicking makes me INSANE. artist you're making me CRAZY!!!
javier truly has no idea either but god dammit he's trying his best to help, but how can lloyd explain this to the man whos completely and utterly loyal to him to the point of sincere devotion? if lloyd tells him, whos to say that javier - the martyr that he is - won't just give up his life for him? god that's so... GOD. GOD GOD GOD WHY AGHHH
AND AGGHHH AGGGHHHH THE FLASHBACKS TO THE P PANELS OF SUHO WORKING SO SO HARD TO REACH THE LIGHT. GOD FUCK. FUCK FUCK FUCK
ITS DIMMER ITS HARDER TO REACH AND OH MY GOD THE PANEL OF LLOYD REACHING UP EVEN IN HIS PANIC TOWARDS HOPE. THE THOUGHT THAT "ITLL GET BETTER ONE DAY" COMFORTED HIM AND KEPT HIM ALIVE BUT NOW ITS BEING RIPPED FROM HIM I FEEL ILL. EVIL EVIL EVIL EVIL
this panel of that light going out . not much words on this i just feel sick to my stomach. why would u do that.
and finally at the end of the chapter we have this incredibly HAUNTING panel of lloyd panicking. the despair here is UNREAL. the lineart is shaken and messy and scribbly, and the focus on his face and his hand gives the panel a very claustrophobic and hard-to-breathe feel and it makes mE SICK!!! IT MAKES ME SICK!!! SICK AND TWISTED!!!! JEWEL OF TRUTH I HATE YOU!!!!!!!
anyway that's all my thoughts for right now . i really really hope they figure out a loophole or something . if they dont im actually gonna keel over and die /j not literally but yknow what i mean
SICK AND TWISTED!!! is my final word on this ep
thanks for joining me in hell ill see yall next week salute emoji
#tged#the greatest estate developer#tged spoilers#the greatest estate designer#lynn misc#lynn yaps#i really really hope people understood all that coding stuff i spewed in the middle of this HAHA#IF NOT PLEASE DONT BE AFRAID TO ASK. I LOVE YAPPING ABOUT STUFF I KNOW!!!#i didnt think id yap abt it that much but well. here we are#i was close to if not completely sobbing when i read this ep and i am extremely scared of whats next#itll be okay though right? no more anguish after this? right? <- trying so hard to cope
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Battle Against Lancer
... Oh dear... That wasn't supposed to happen...
Deltarune belongs to Toby Fox
Ok, little headcanon here, I think it would be cool if Darkners turned into the object they are in the Light World if they die in the Dark World. Hence, Lancer turning into the Jack of Spades when Susie kills him. She has no idea what just happened, and even though she didn't get any LOVE or anything, she knows that Lancer is definitely dead, and it's her fault. And the player can't do anything to stop it because they can't control or stop Susie.
Anyways, with Ralsei, his robes would cover up the object he really is when he reaches 0 hp, but it wouldn't be damaged like Lancer's card is because it's not a permanent death unless the whole team dies.
But come on, turning into the object could have a whole lore behind it, because the Angel is worshipped by the Light and feared by the Dark, right? So what if it is because light doesn't mean death, but death means light to the Darkners? Like, when a Darkner dies, they are brought to the Light and forced into that form, permanently. It makes sense in my head, ignore my ramblings.
Anyways, I'm not sure how my headcanon would work for Chapter 2 Darkners, but come on, I wasn't going to miss the chance to draw a card sliced to bits with a traumatized Susie looking on. You can tell that I cared about that page because I added a background. Also, I realize that the soul on page 2 comes from Susie when technically it should come from Kris, but I liked the way it looked (and totally didn't notice where it was spawning from when I played the game.)
Comics are hard, but I had so much fun playing around with the panels on the first two pages. My pacing might be a bit off though... Also, it's so so hard to draw the same character over and over in different poses, so sorry if Susie looks a bit different than she should, I did my best. And sorry for the ramble, but that's why I put the keep reading thing up above. If you read through my brain dump, good job! Get yourself a cookie.
#deltarune#deltarune comic#comic#my art#susie deltarune#lancer#lancer deltarune#is that a background?!#this took a long time#comics are hard
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Warning: Anime Spoilers.
I think about this panel a lot:
And this one too:
I don't understand why people think that Sae changed after Spain. I mean, that boy has always been blunt and rude. After calling Rin incredible the day the younger Itoshi barged into his soccer match, Sae never actually praised Rin; that boy literally said, "If it's you, then you can be the best after me." He had always criticised Rin's play/goals and was never really like, "Ooh, my cute patootie lil otouto."
Also, this:
Imagine coming back home after 4 years, and your little brother accuses you of changing. Further, this was the first time, when Rin talked back to his Nii-chan; we need to get Sae's perspective of this flashback too.
Sae literally had his suitcase with him when he came to that field; that boy's ass landed and the first thing he did is to go to his little brother.
And:
Of course, Sae would bet like this. Rin himself said, "Nii-chan doesn't like losing." Also, is that just drawing style or those are eyebags/dark circles under Sae's eyes? And Rin literally pointed out, "Have you lost weight?" It's clearly visible that whatever happened in Spain, Sae wasn't in his happiest state.
It also wasn't like Sae jumped onto Rin on sight. The older Itoshi had tried to explain how different is the world stage and lalalalala, it was Rin himself who was acting naïve and immature, and didn't give Sae proper time to explain himself.
But this:
I agree is really harsh, but if we take in account of the fact that Sae has been a rude person from the start, then what he said isn't really wrong. Rin's inner monologue was literally, "Can I be cool like Nii-chan too?" when he barged into the soccer match.
It isn't/wasn't completely Sae's fault for Rin to idolise him.
Also, I don't blame Sae for hating Japan's soccer/football (whatever you call it) because imagine being treated as a nation's treasure at the age of 13 years old, only to find that you ain't shit in the world (as pointed out by Sendou, Sae is only a reserve in Royale Madrid/Re Al).
To sum everything up, I do think that Sae got a really harsh slap from reality in Spain, and he really didn't want Rin to go through the same. That's why he tried to explain Rin about everything only to realise that Rin's main aim was never to be the best striker in the world, it was just to be with his Nii-chan, and it irked Sae. After whatever happened in Spain, Sae must've made some kind of safe place in Rin that he could see his dream come true through his younger brother, but Rin wasn't heading to that direction especially when he couldn't even defeat Sae and there are, as stated by Sae himself, better player in the whole world than him— must've been a hard hit for Sae to know that his dreams have really ended; maybe that's why he was so interested in Blue Lock? He could finally see someone who could make his dream be true after all; maybe that's why he is so obsessed with passing to the best striker in world (I'm referring to his wish to make the best pass to the best striker in the world if it were to be his last day on Earth) because he is seeing his own dream in that person.
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This post might seem jumbled and it is jumbled, but it's my first time trying to make some kind of theory, so please be kind.
Edit: Sae isn't a reserve in Royale Madri/Re Al. He is a second division player. Sorry, I misread some things.
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Good morrow my shuggy liege!
I was pondering if I should or shouldn’t ask but I hope it will not be too much bother to answer
It’s about one of your metas about the love and sacrifice Beautifully written I must say but reading through it again made me wondering how does buggy fall into the sacrifice themes of one piece?
It pains me to admit that once I’ve read 1082 I had many different feelings and one of them thought of buggy sacrifice as quite selfish in a way? Don’t get me wrong I’m sure came from him believing in shanks and the love he had for the boy! It just it felt in a way like he was burdening shanks with his own dreams
I’m happy he finally got the courage to follow his own path It’s beautiful and inspiring I just wonder if my interpretation is coming from anxiety or is actually true? Thank you and I’m sorry to sending this on anon
Hello, anon! Thank you for your kind words about my metas. Before I answer your question about where Buggy might fit into the wider themes of One Piece -- like sacrifice -- I think I should address your interpretation of 1082's events and compare them with mine.
I can understand why someone might conclude that Buggy's faith in Shanks is a burden of sorts, and ultimately selfish; after all, Shanks never asked for the weight of Buggy's expectations, and you could argue that Buggy's plan was to live out his dreams vicariously through Shanks. However, I think that there are some key points which entirely re-frame the situation.
Buggy didn't actually tell Shanks about what he did.
This isn't explicitly confirmed by the manga, but based on 1082's events and Shanks/Buggy's relationship timeline going forward, I can definitely make a strong case for their miscommunication in this regard.
Although we have Buggy's narration in 1082 to guide us through his flashback and enlighten us with his true feelings about Shanks, remember -- it's an internal monologue. The only thing Shanks knows is what Buggy tells him, and what Buggy tells him is not the full story. Look at this series of panels to see what I mean.
We have a very important contrast here -- Buggy's thoughts ("You're not the next generation's king?! I misjudged you, Shanks!" / "Don't you care about following in Captain Roger's footsteps?!"), versus what he actually says. ("You coward!" / "It's your fault I lost that treasure map!")
In classic Buggy fashion, we see him deflect from the truth; instead of explaining how much he believed in Shanks' potential, he brings up a petty grudge and insults Shanks out of disappointment, hurt, and anger/frustration. Nowhere do we see Buggy explicitly tell Shanks what/why he gave up. And this miscommunication is not only the heart of Buggy's sacrifice, but the exact reason why they split in the first place: Shanks did not tell Buggy what made him change his mind about going to Laughtale, and Buggy did not tell Shanks about his decision/dream.
I think this is key to understanding the way they navigate their interactions later down the line, in Marineford. Remember: Shanks believes that they split due to the whole map ordeal, which is not only a relatively lighthearted grudge to hold, but also very confusing from Shanks' perspective.
I love the curt answer he gives here, because it really reflects Shanks' limited understanding of what actually transpired between them that fateful day at Loguetown. Thus, it's also understandable why Shanks acts the way he does at Marineford. I highly doubt Shanks would be so casual if he knew Buggy's real reasons for parting ways. Hell, their split was so important to Shanks that he still remembers Buggy's gripe about the map 20+ years later -- and even uses the promise of one to draw Buggy back into rehashing things between them. (The anime expands on Shanks' confusion/limited understanding even more, but because we're dealing with the manga only, I'm not going to reference those added scenes.)
This interaction can seem quite confusing, but place it in the wider context I've just proposed, and it makes a lot more sense. Something fundamental has permanently shifted between them, but Shanks does not understand the gravity -- nor the real reason -- behind that change. And yet again, Buggy perpetuates this cycle of miscommunication by not telling him.
So, now that I've argued why I believe Buggy didn't tell Shanks about his true dream/decision to give up on said dream, why is it so important?
Well, this leads to my second point.
2. Buggy is a character primarily motivated by greed.
This statement does not need to be argued; it's as explicit as can be, because it has been well-established by Oda. In fact, it's very likely to be what people remember best about Buggy's character, in the midst of the massive narrative that One Piece has become. (I will touch upon this later, because this is exactly why I view Buggy's sacrifice as so impactful to the reader.)
Now, my last point:
3. Buggy is terrible at hiding his true intentions.
Buggy usually makes it quite obvious what he's hiding through blatant lies which hint to the truth, or even a direct slip of the tongue, like in Impel Down. This is partially for the sake of comedy/divulging necessary information to readers, but it's also a genuine aspect of his character which reinforces the comedy. Buggy's intentions are comically apparent to readers, so it's ridiculous to see his followers fall for his schemes.
These three points, in tandem, are exactly what makes 1082's reveal so impactful. Oda uproots everything we thought we knew about Buggy's character in order to give us the missing puzzle piece -- the reason why he is the way he is. This exact decision.
Buggy is a character motivated by greed, but he gave up on his dream, a pillar of freedom and existence in the One Piece world. He is self-absorbed, and yet he de-centered himself from the narrative. And for who, of all people? Shanks, the very man he claimed to despise in his first introduction. Are you starting to see the groundwork Oda's laying down here?
Buggy is notoriously bad at hiding the truth when he lies, and yet readers are blindsided by this reveal, over a thousand chapters after his first appearance. He kept it a secret, not just from Shanks, but from us. 1082 subverted our expectations and further developed Buggy's character in the process. It's a great display of what I love most about Oda's writing.
Before 1082, it would be difficult to claim where Buggy lies in One Piece's themes of sacrifice or dreams. But post-1082, it's a lot clearer. Oda has shown us that Shanks is just as important to Buggy as Buggy is to Shanks, and he's done it in the most effective way for a greedy character: by showing us that even Buggy is capable of sacrifice, when it's for someone he cares about. And what did he give up? His dream -- one of the most important things people have in One Piece.
Sure, it's possible to dismiss Buggy's decision as selfish, but remember: he didn't tell Shanks. He didn't expect anything in return. In a way, he has actually spared Shanks from feeling burdened; Shanks doesn't know the truth, and so he has no opportunity to feel guilt or responsibility for Buggy's decision. For a character like Shanks, who is defined by responsibility, this is also massively significant. Buggy's choice is not Shanks' fault, and by deflecting to trivial matters like the map, Buggy has -- intentionally or not -- lifted a possible weight from Shanks' shoulders. Shanks still feels the loss of their relationship, but instead of potential guilt, there is confusion and miscommunication.
So, no, I don't view Buggy's sacrifice as selfish. He did what he did because he truly believed in Shanks. He was willing to let Shanks become king and live out his dream, all without burdening Shanks with the truth. It's the antithesis of everything we've known about Buggy up until this point -- a decision without his greed, egomania, and overt schemes at the forefront. And if that's not a selfless act from Buggy, then I don't know what is.
#tldr; this just in: miscommunication is once again beating shuggy's asses#one piece#buggy the clown#buggy#akagami no shanks#shanks#shuggy#is it shuggy? idk the lines have blurred at this point#ask#one piece meta#long post#meta
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Drive: Six
– Simon "Ghost" Riley x F! Reader
Explicit sexual content under the cut. Read at your own risk.
You blinked a few times, your attention grabbed by a knock at your door. You groaned, pulling your eyes from staring at the TV, to eyeing the door. Standing to your feet, you trudged to answer it.
Your slippers hit the ground as you neared the door, wrapping your blanket over your shoulders to draw in more warmth.
Pulling the door open, your eyes met with a familiar face- Simon. You sighed, reaching to slam the door when his foot stepped forward and caught it before it could close. You ignored it, making your way back to the couch where you sat down with a huff.
"You ain't been answerin' my calls," He said, moving forward to enter your apartment. "Thought I'd check in."
He idled, unlike him, and searched your apartment with awkward eyes- full of unspoken emotions and feelings that he'd been harbouring since your surgery. He lingered by the door, watching you curl up on your sofa in an attempt to drown him out.
"Thought I told you I don't need you here," You answered back, your eyes glued to the TV.
He sighed, slowly stepping toward the couch, where you'd practically lived for the last few months since being dismissed. You hadn't cooked a meal, done laundry- you'd hardly left the comfortable and inviting abyss for anything other than the bathroom and a shower.
"Yeah," He nodded. "Y'said that. I don't believe it."
You rolled your eyes, tucking your knees to your chest.
"If I wanted to hear from you, I'd have answered your calls." You met his gaze briefly, before shifting to stare at the screen.
"There was a time you were glad to hear from me. Glad to have me here."
"That was before you fucked up my career."
He paused, his brows furrowing. So much had changed between spending the night wrapped in his arms and now- hardly able to stand the sight of him. You'd found out about his insubordination not long after that night; in court, where you'd been honourably discharged following Price's report of the incident. It was only mercy on Price's behalf that you hadn't seen more severe consequences.
Simon, however, was too valuable. His experience, rank, knowledge- they couldn't let him go. Shepherd wouldn't allow it, and the task force would be scrambling without him. So instead, they let you go. Dissolved your contract and effectively made you a social pariah in the eyes of your teammates.
You never knew exactly what he'd confessed to. Was it the entirety of your relationship? The nearly year-long affair that you'd hidden from everyone, including your captain? Or did he only mention a few nights, a few mistakes?
"Savin' your life is fuckin' up your career?"
"I'd rather you have kept your mouth shut. I lost my job. I lost my dignity, the respect of my teammates. I don't even know what to do with myself now."
"You knew the risks goin' in, sweetheart. It ain't my fault you ain't happy with the consequences."
"Except it is- because if you'd done your job instead of worrying about me, I wouldn't be sitting here on this couch."
"You'd be dead," Simon said, finding your eyes. "You'd be fuckin' dead. You expect me to let you bleed out? You daft?"
"I don't want to talk about it, Simon."
"We ain't talked in weeks. You can hardly look at me. So I'll talk," He said. "You've got no bloody idea how it made me feel to hear your voice over my radio. I wasn't gonna let you die. Hate me all you like, sweetheart, but if I were to do it over again, I'd do the exact same fuckin thing."
Your eyes met his, inhaling harshly as you deliberated what to say next. You were angry; maybe not at him, maybe at Price, or yourself, or the panel of military officers that agreed to have you discharged. But you were angry. Frustrated.
You paused, finally free to think for a moment while you stared at him. God, did you miss him. You missed his brown eyes, crooked nose, and disheveled hair. The smell he exuded that left your stomach with butterflies and calmed your senses. Your eyes reached his lips, twitching with restlessness and frustration. You wanted to kiss him, wanted to feel something other than utter failure and humiliation.
You clenched your jaw- how long could you truly hold out? Stay away from him? It was completely obvious from the moment you woke up from surgery and saw him across the room. You loved him. But your heart, regardless of whether it was in the right place, couldn't stand the thought of holding him back. You needed to be cut off from the source.
"I know," You nodded. "I think that's the problem. We got too wrapped up- too focused on something that wasn't real, wasn't sustainable."
"Not real?" He grimaced, backing away. "Don't you fuckin' say that. We both know it was real."
You sighed, leaning back against the couch as you looked up to meet his gaze. Your stomach dropped.
"We liked it because it was wrong. Give yourself some time, you'll realize. You won't want me without the risk."
He glared, a deadly glare that made you feel scrutinized under his gaze.
"I don't know what kinda shit you been fed, but I still want you. Fuck- I want you. More now than ever, sweetheart."
He knelt down, letting his palm smooth over your cheek, his long fingers meeting the side of your head. He forced you to meet his gaze, those cold brown eyes poring into yours.
"I want you." He repeated, watching you inhale a sharp breath.
You wanted to cry, scream; anything to get him out of your vicinity, or else you'd cave. You'd give in to his sweet words and intoxicating voice. You'd give in to nostalgia and the warm feelings he flooded you with. But you wanted to be angry, wanted to stay angry so you didn't have to face exactly what you were feeling for him.
"Stop," You blurted, your hand wrapping around his wrist in an attempt to remove it. "Simon-"
He held strong, pulling the blanket off your body as he wedged himself between your thighs, pulling you closer. His nose brushed against your cheek, his warm breath tickling your ear.
"Don't-" You started, before he cut you off by pressing his lips to yours.
They were cold and unwelcoming, an effort to get you to be quiet, to stop talking before you said something that would end things indefinitely.
You squirmed in his grasp for a moment, before the nostalgia hit; the feel of his arms on your palms, a soft scruff formed on his face, his nose brushing against yours. His tongue slid inside your mouth, and butterflies erupted in your stomach.
You jolted forward, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as he clung to your waist with his giant paw-like hands. He pulled you into his chest, turning his body to sit on the couch with you on his lap. Your hands grabbed at his face, whimpering as his hands drifted down to your ass.
"I missed you," He said between your lips, pulling your body closer to his.
He lifted your shirt off your torso, breathless gasps for air as you disconnected, before he removed his himself. Your eyes drifted to his impressively muscular abdomen, and the bulky shoulders and biceps that moved as he desperately pulled you into him.
You shivered, a low groan escaping your lips when he pressed his to your neck. His kisses were soft, savouring the texture and smell of your skin in case you decided to pull away. He reached around to relieve you of your bra, pulling it off you before his calloused hands glided up your sides and cupped your breasts.
Your hips moved forward, a motion of which you hoped would give some pleasure, especially as he showered your breasts with small bites and warm licks across your nipples. His hands dug into your flesh, frantically reaching for any part of you he could grab.
He lowered his hand to your waistband, sliding it beneath your panties to feel you again. His eyes shut, a heavy breath in as his fingers reached your clit. He missed the feel of you, how soft and silky every single part of you was. How inviting you were, how wet you got for him even when he'd hardly touched you.
"Fuckin' 'ell," He grumbled under his breath, while his other hand held you in place. "Y' feel so goddamn good."
You whimpered quietly, grinding your clit over his fingers, soft breaths fanning his face. You reached and pulled the waistband of your pants down, haphazardly removing your sweatpants before settling back down on his lap.
He swiftly lifted you, pinning you to the couch beneath him. Your hands flew to his chest, warm to the touch, and he paused briefly.
"Don't tell me to stop," He breathed, removing his belt with one hand as he pulled his jeans down his hips. His cock was pressed against your thigh, heavy, warm, teasing you with every subtle grind of his hips. "Please, sweetheart," He whispered, nose brushing against your cheek.
Your breath caught in your chest at his plea, goosebumps scattering your skin as he begged you not to stop, to allow him to please you.
"It's okay," You nodded, your arms sliding around his shoulders, pulling him against you. "I want you."
He groaned softly, aligning his cock with your pussy before slowly sinking in at an agonizing pace. Your back arched into him, your eyes meeting his as your jaw fell slack.
"Yes," You whispered, choked and strained. "Yes- please."
He buried his head in your neck, rounding his hips as he pushed his cock even deeper inside you. Your wetness allowed him to slide in with ease, and his choked breaths in your ear alerted you to the fact that he wouldn't last long.
"Missed you-missed bein' inside you," He mumbled, panting heavily beside you.
The confession made your heart clench- you knew Simon well. It took a lot for him to admit to missing you, even if it was said in passing while fucking you. He meant it.
Your eyes were watery; half pleasure and sadness, a bitter-sweet feeling that made you press your head against his shoulder, wrap your legs around his waist. You wanted to be close, you wanted comfort. You wanted things to be back the way they were, but a small part of you was almost grateful now. The other, larger, part knew that it was likely the end for the two of you. Your commitment had ended as soon as you were discharged, and you imagined Simon would move along to the next.
You knew he didn't want to hear that you loved him. He didn't want to know that even if he'd stuck his neck out and it lead to ending your career, you were thankful, grateful. He'd saved your life, you knew that, and yet you couldn't bring yourself to tell him how you felt. Because if you did, you'd be making him choose between his career and yourself. And he'd choose his career.
His hand cradled your head, his thumb finding your lip, pushing his finger between your teeth. His elbow was placed beside your head, rhythmic thrusts that were consistent, hitting the spot every time. Your eyes made contact with his, brows furrowed, mouth agape as he thrusted into you, finding pleasure in watching your lips wrap around his thumb.
He craned his neck, his lips pressing against your throat, and at the same time, as your fingers circled your clit in tandem with his thrusts, you tilted your head back. A moan, from deep in your chest, animalistic and genuine, escaped as your muscles tensed, your orgasm descending quickly.
"Fuck sake," He grunted, overwhelmed by the strength of your pussy constricting around his cock.
You shivered, your consciousness returning as your orgasm finished in short bursts. Your chest heaved as you caught your breath, and shortly after that, Simon's thrusts became short and rough. His hips slamming against yours, until he released inside you with a groan.
You fell back with a sigh, watching Simon's face, cheeks flushed, brows dipped together. He hesitated for a moment, before lifting himself off of you, retreating to the other side of the couch.
You sat up, making eye contact with him. It was silent, only the noise of the TV to cover the heavy breathing between you. Admittedly, it was uncomfortabl. It was the first time you'd felt awkward around Simon, unsure what was next.
He reached out to grab your shirt, offering it to you. You blinked, taking it and pulling it over your head.
"Thanks," You whispered. "For everything. I should've said that, before."
"No thanks necessary," He shook his head.
You waited a beat, with watery eyes and a dizzy head. You were beyond confused; what started out as a simple affair had turned into deep feelings and complicated emotions. It overwhelmed you, to say the least, and before you began to cry, you cleared your throat.
You nodded. "You should head out," You said, a lump growing in your throat.
You wanted him to stay. You wanted to blurt out that you loved him- but you couldn't do that to him, couldn't force your feelings on him when he wasn't likely to stick around. You didn't want to be the one to take things a step further while he was halfway across the world. It wasn't fair.
He looked shocked- like it was the last thing he expected to hear from you. He'd thought it was smoothed over, that you knew what he wanted. But your eyes couldn't meet his, and his gut sank as he realized you were never going to feel the way he did. You wouldn't want him the way he wanted you.
He stood from the couch, yanking his shirt on.
"Goodnight," He muttered, stepping past you as he walked to the door. "Just know I meant it. Everythin' I said."
Your head turned to see him again, briefly catching a glimpse of his boot before the door slammed.
#cod mw2#simon riley#ghost x reader#cod mwii#mwii#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost smut#simon riley smut#strlingsavwrites#drive series
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Attack on Prime New Age Anthology: Reminiscing
Main Story
Return to that Sick Mind II
Return to that Sick Mind III
Return to that Sick Mind IV
The TFP Kids and the Survey Corps share memories about Optimus.
"You know," Jack began, "I don't think we've ever seen Optimus that expressive before."
Armin was lying down on the bed, looking up at the blank ceiling. He turned his head to face Jack, and the older gentleman was leaning against the space where the glass and wall merged.
"He got angry at you guys for coming out to fight," Jack explained, "The idea of Optimus panicking seems surreal. And then...the screaming over the comm. link system."
Armin sighed at that, knowing what Jack was referring to. The moments right after the power of the titans had ended.
"We know it's Optimus now, but...he just seems so different," Jack confessed.
"...How did Optimus use to act when he was leader of the Autobots?" Armin asked.
"Stoic, assured, never really wore his emotions out on his sleeves," Jack explained, "One time I asked him if he wanted to see something funny, but he just said 'no' so bluntly. It didn't mean he didn't care about us or anything. I think it was just a lot of responsibility."
"I did ask him one time if I could come to the Arctic with him and see snow," Rafael chimed in, tying away on his laptop, "He said no, but he promised he would bring me back a snowball. That didn't happen because we had a scraplet infestation, but I did get to see the Arctic later."
"We get snow on the island," Armin explained, "And we had to rent out a place for Optimus to stay in because he didn't want to use all the resources on the neutral ship or make the trips at all. We even made him a large blanket for him to use and keep warm."
"Really?" Rafael asked in surprise.
"Aw, that's sweet," Miko cooed, lying on her back perpendicular to her bed.
"Yeah, Optimus doesn't like winter time," Hanji snickered, knocking their knuckles against the floor to try and find a loose panel.
"Did he wear the blanket like a cape?" Miko asked.
"He did!" Hanji exclaimed with excitement.
"Damn it! I want pictures!" Miko shouted.
"I don't like winter, but Optimus made it just a little bit bearable," Sasha proclaimed, "He told us a lot of his battles on Earth, managed to draw in a whole crowd of people with his story telling."
"Gotta be a good speaker to be a good leader," Jack declared.
"Yeah, we also got into a snowball fight with him," Sasha added.
Miko shot up from the bed while Jack and Rafael snapped their heads at her.
"Optimus Prime? 'Primes don't party'? Was in a snowball fight?!" Miko screeched.
"I concede, some of it was my fault." Hanji raised their hand.
"How the hell do you get Optimus to participate in a snowball fight?!" Jack demanded.
"Well, they asked." Hanji pointed to Armin's cell next to them, "And the minute I phrased it as a 'training exercise', he started annihilating the 104th left and right."
"Sounds about right," Rafael commented.
"Did you know that he lost!" Sasha screeched in anger.
"HE LOST?!" They all screamed.
"Yeah, somehow Armin managed to get him in the back! Which I'm still pressed about!" Sasha shouted.
"Yeah, I guess I got lucky." Armin rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.
"Yeah, some luck! I want to join in on the snowball fight next time!" Miko declared.
"Miko, he's probably not-!"
"He's not escaping this!" Miko cut Rafael off.
"That's insane. Optimus never participated in any recreational activities. Now he's out here having snowball fights," Jack said in disbelief.
"Optimus was still quite reserved when we first met him," Hanji explained, "It did take a lot of talks and coaxing to really get him out of his shell."
"I mean, you guys did a pretty great job," Jack praised.
"I think part of it was that initially, Optimus was considered a threat among our people," Hanji explained.
"Really?" Miko deadpanned.
"Optimus is a giant, metal, titan and we thought humanity was extinct by man-eating titans. How do you think that'll make the population feel?" Hanji pressed their ear against the floor, "He wasn't exalted or worship as a Prime. He was feared. Then many of us started seeing him as an ally and equal. One of the big things Optimus did to gain Levi's trust was prepare the bodies of his former squad for a funeral."
"That's really thoughtful," Miko declared.
"It...definitely helped a lot of us with the grieving process," Hanji admitted.
"Wait, what do you mean worshipped?" Willy asked, awakened by the conversation at hand.
"According to Ratchet, being a Prime is the highest honor a Cybertronian can receive," Rafael explained, "It's like being ordained by god."
"...you're kidding, right?" Colt asked.
"He literally went down to the core of their planet, which has his god Primus, and he gave Optimus the Matrix," Rafael explained, "Not to mention all the cool stuff he can access with it."
"The Forge of Solus Prime, which made anything with a swing. It's broken now. The Star Saber. You guys saw it cut up the Colossal Titans," Miko listed, "Hey Jack, do you still have the Key to Vector Sigma?"
"The what?" Armin asked in confusion.
Jack dug into his pockets and pulled out a glowing rectangular metal sheet. "Managed to snag it before the rest of my clothes got taken from me."
"What does that do?" Onyankopon asked, exiting from the makeshift bathroom.
"We had to use it to download Optimus' memories when he got amnesia," Jack answered.
"Amnesia?!" Gabi sounded panicked, "When did Optimus get amnesia?!"
"There was a world ending event we had on Earth," Jack explained, "Optimus and the Autobots went to stop it, and Optimus had to use the Matrix in his chest to stop the event from happening and the Earth from getting destroyed. It caused his memories to get wiped and for him to revert back to Orion Pax."
"And then Buckethead kidnapped him," Miko seethed.
"Wow, Megatron, it just gets worse for you," Hanji muttered under their breath.
"Optimus gave me the key and told me it was for the groundbridge power supply," Jack explained, "I ended up going to Cybertron with Arcee to download his memories."
"Wow, Optimus lied to you and you didn't notice?" Hanji raised their head from the floor.
"Hey, things were pretty tense," Jack retorted.
"Optimus is a shit liar!" Hanji exclaimed.
"Look, he probably gave it to me and lied about it because he knew the others would try to stop him," Jack assumed, "Optimus...let me keep it after we got him back."
"...Optimus never let us keep any important relics," Hanji muttered.
"Didn't he start teaching you how to read their language?" Armin recalled.
"Whoa, you can read Cybertronian?" Rafael asked in surprise.
"The older language. The Golden Age Text." Hanji waved off.
"Still, that's impressive," Rafael praised.
"Thanks." Hanji rubbed the back of their head.
"...Hey how did Optimus handle the war being over?" Miko couldn't help but ask, "The Bots handled it differently, but Boss Bot was away from Cybertron."
"Yeah...Optimus was sad about it," Armin explained.
"Really?" Jack asked with concern.
"I think he was sad about the fact that he couldn't go back home," Armin explained, "The neutral ship was mainly used for spare parts. We couldn't use it for communications or transportation. Arcee and Wheeljack weren't there at the time, and Megatron said he got thrown through a spacebridge, so he didn't remember the way back. Optimus was stranded on another world, and...majority of that world hated him and wanted him gone."
Gabi felt her stomach drop at Armin's explanation, and she covered her mouth and curled up into a ball to hide her tears. Willy darted his eyes in guilt while Colt stared in pity.
"But that doesn't mean we didn't do something nice for him!" Hanji declared, "We scavenged for every single book on the walls and a few from Marley and got him a library to keep, since he used to be an archivist and all!"
"You guys made Optimus a library?" Jack couldn't help but smile.
"Why not?" Hanji smiled back, "We care about Optimus. He's our ally and friend."
Jack looked down at the key card and smiled. "Thanks."
"For what?" Armin asked.
"For watching out for Optimus and taking care of him," Jack elaborated, "Sounds like you guys really made Optimus happy."
"We tried our best." Hanji shrugged, "Although, can't say I've made it easier for him. One time, he told us about Halloween, and I threatened to wipe some information from the neutral ship if he didn't tell us more scary stories."
"He told you scary stories?!" Miko exclaimed.
"Yeah, and we made a betting pool on it!" Hanji cackled, "And then Buckethead ruined the whole thing with a Cybertronian horror story!"
"Who won the pot?!" Miko asked.
"Mikasa!" Hanji grinned, "She wouldn't crack until Megatron told his story! Oh, and he also told us about a holiday called 'Day of the Dead'-!"
"He told you about Dia de Los Muertos?" Rafael asked in surprise and excitement, "He still remembered what I told him?"
"We couldn't do a massive festival, but we did have a toast in the cemetery where our comrades were buried," Armin explained, "It was nice."
Rafael set his laptop down and stood up. "We we're done, I'm taking everyone to a proper festival! We'll make altars and we'll eat concha bread and dance!"
"What's concha bread?!" Sasha asked with excitement.
Jack watched with a small smile as the conversation continued. The spy felt something vibrate in his pocket and pulled out his phone. He opened his text messages and read the most recent one.
Inquire about Eren Jaeger.
Jack started typing back. They don't want to talk about him yet.
We looked into Megatron's mind with the cortical psychic patch.
Jack typed furiously. Whoa! What?!
We've learned information about Eren Jaeger, but Megatron has confessed that he has a negative bias towards him.
I thought the patch didn't alter memories.
We still need more information on Eren. There is information that is missing. We need a different perspective.
Jack sighed to himself before standing up. "Gotta go to the bathroom." He walked over to the back and opened the door to the makeshift bathroom. He locked the door and took a deep breath before texting Ultra Magnus once more.
What did you find?
Jack waited. He saw the bubbles, waiting for the message to be sent. Jack was confused when he got a video. He played the video and closed the lid of the toilet before sitting down on it.
“Wait! Eren, please! Please listen to me!” Jack heard Optimus' voice, “Don’t activate the Colossal Titans within the wall! I understand your fear of Marley and the rest of the humans on this world! But this is not the way to handle the situation! You have the titan power; you have weakened Marley! That alone should be enough!”
Jack took noticed of Eren, the same armored titan that showed up in the feed. He looked like he was nervous, hesitating.
“This violence; this lust for vengeance will only lead to more destruction and devastation!” Optimus declared, “Listen to reason, Eren! Stand down now, and let us come with a better solution!”
Eren growled as he threatened to scream, but Optimus continued. “Listen to me, Eren! If you activate the rumbling, you will not only be destroying the entire world but the island as well! The people you wish to protect: Historia, Mikasa, Armin, the Survey Corps will be affected! Innocent humans, both Marleyan and Eldian who had nothing to do with attacks against the island, will be killed in the ensuing chaos! The entire world will be devastated, and the only ones that have survived will only see this action as a tasteless once! Creating a new world on mountains of bodies and rivers of blood is not justified! If you do this, you will only be seen as a monster, regardless of your motivation!”
“Eren, I know this isn’t the path that you want, and if you stand down now we can find another solution! This isn’t the path to peace! Think for one second about the weight of your actions! If you do this, you will cause humanity’s extinction! That will be with you for the rest of your life! Do you really wish to be the one?! Do you really wish to be the cause of the death and destruction of all of mankind?!”
Jack leaned forward as he saw Optimus take slow steps towards Eren.
“That’s enough, Eren,” Optimus whispered, holding out his servo, “Please, come home.”
Jack knew what came next. This guy made up his mind. He witnessed that decision, but he still grew ridged when he heard the titan speak. He didn't understand what he said because of the lack of lips, but it caused Optimus to scream his name and reach out for him. Jack covered his mouth in shock as something shot his head off, but then a centipede emerged from the spine and reconnected with the head. Jack had stopped the video once he saw the walls beginning to fall. He took deep and heavy breaths, trying to calm his nerves. He never felt so sick, and Jack was now left with one raging question in his mind.
How the hell does someone get pushed so far into believing that genocide is the only option?
(Okay, so for reference:
Halloween Anthology: Optimus tells scary stories from Earth to the Survey Corps in honor of the Halloween Spirit. Bonus: Dia de Los Muertos: Optimus and the Survey Corps honor the ones that they have lost. Winter Anthology: Optimus and the Survey Corps navigate the every changing twists and turns of the weather as the seasons change from fall to spring.
Like these are canon to the AOP story. Just as a reminder.)
#attack on prime#transformers prime#tfp#attack on titan#shingeki no kyojin#snk#aot#ao3#tfp optimus#optimus prime#tfp optimus prime#jack darby#miko nakadai#rafael esquivel#armin arlert#sasha blause#hanji zoe#maccadam#macadam#maccadams#new age anthology#tfp ultra magnus#ultra magnus#optimus#colt grice#gabi braun#willy tybur#survey corps#tfp kids
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sometimes, I look at Yoichi’s death panel and I feel like AFO looks more confused than just plain possessive, and usually whenever we see AFO (or anyone) use a quirk there’s some drawing or little things to show that, but in this scene we didn’t…
so maybe it wasn’t AFO’s fault? Maybe it was the transfer??
like All might did say to Izuku that his limbs would burst off if he gets one for all without a good or trained body, and I mean Yoichi’s pretty frail, and this is my theory lmao that I thought of last night while trying to sleep, probably someone else has thought of it but 🤷♀️
I've heard of this theory before from other people, but it's one I personally disagree with for several reasons.
yes while all might did tell izuku that his limbs would burst if he received ofa without training his body to be stronger, ofa happened to be very weak during the scene in the sewer. there weren't any other quirks stacked in it like when izuku received ofa, the two quirks that had been inside yoichi combined into one. so yoichi only had one quirk in him at that time so don't think there would've any strain on his body from that.
you also have to take into consideration that ofa during all mights time was extremely powerful and had all the quirks from the previous users inside it. I think if ofa had been too strenuous for yoichi to handle he would've died the moment afo gave him the other quirk that combined with the one he already had, not randomly explode two months later. I think if it had been too much for his body to handle he would've died similar to the way shinomori died, but he didn't live long enough to see if that would happen to him or not.
there is also this scene at the end of 407, where we get a glimpse of afo's own thoughts as he watches yoichi run away from him in the sewers.
this shows that afo was already extremely upset watching yoichi run away with men who hate him. also just look how afo focused on yoichi holding kudou's hand right before we see that same hand be severed from yoichi's body with blood surrounding it. and the next chapter we see how it wasn't only his hand that was severed but that his entire body fell apart. so yeah I don't think it's a coincidence that yoichi fell apart right after afo was staring at their hands and says "enough of this". he probably reached out his hand to stop them only to accidently use a quirk in his distressed state of mind.
the biggest reason why I don't like this theory though has to be from more a narrative stand point. to me I think it is extremely ironic that the one person afo cares and loves the most is someone he accidently killed because he got upset that he didn't want anything to do with him anymore. his whole life he has maintained this grip on yoichi and he assumed that yoichi always be there for him, yet the moment yoichi found the opportunity to escape he took it.
just imagine how big of a slap to the face it felt to afo, who presumably had been hunting yoichi nonstop after he escaped, to see that not only is his brother running from him but that he refuses to look back at him. and there's something tragic in how he spends the next century chasing after one of the only pieces of his brother he has left and blames everyone but himself for the reason why yoichi isn't with him anymore. we know the vault is what ultimately pushed yoichi away from him, but if you add on that afo is the reason why yoichi is dead in the first place it just makes it 10 times worse.
if you turn this into a "yoichi only died because ofa was too much for his body" it erases all of that and takes the blame off of afo for yoichi's death. while he did give him the extra quirk, you can't find afo fully at fault if you claim the quirk killed yoichi because how was afo supposed to know that would happen? he even said he tried to get a weak quirk so his brothers body would handle it well so he took precautions.
I think it works better if afo's own inability to see yoichi as person with his own free will and not an object he owns is what ultimately killed yoichi. because that's how this whole conflict started right? afo wanted yoichi to conform to his will alone, he didn't care about how yoichi felt about the matter nor about his free will. he was only concerned with getting him to follow him and be by his side no matter what.
that's my thoughts on the matter though, thanks for sending the ask I've been wanting to talk about this particular subject for a while now
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Reasons why I took a long time updating or stopped updating my kyman AUs:
1. I feel like my AU is not worth continuing so I got lazy and lost hope to continue it
2. I look at people's kyman AUs more better than mine and it makes me feel so jealous (no, it's not their fault at all, they're cool, it's just that my ideas are uninteresting, that's all 💔)
3. Not even half of people like my creations because it's boring and again, uninteresting
4. the kyman community doesn't know me after what I created for almost a year so, what's the point? 💔
5. My drawings are always deformed and ugly every panel comic
6. I didn't get paid
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I love your art style! You do such a good job of drawing characters in adorable ways (especially Chat Noir, he must be protected at all costs).
Do you have any advice on how to draw chibi/chibi-esque characters? I’ve been trying on and off for years and all my attempts inevitably look strangely proportioned and unnatural rather than cute.
Thank you so much! I do tend to enjoy drawing cute things so I end up doing it a lot (with Adrien/Chat Noir being my favourite to draw) 🤭
Chibi/chibi-esque drawing is a little weird since its usually skews the body's proportions. This is why it can look really weird sometimes. But sometimes that weirdness can be charming? It's really a matter of finding a way that works for you and that you like.
For me, my "squish style" (as I like to call it to myself 😂) has taken a lot of trial and error. Drawing, drawing and more drawing is the best thing to improving.
Yes, it sometimes comes out looking awful. I've had plenty of times where I just can't get a drawing to look right. It still happens. Even when I draw comics the same character can look different across multiple panels 🤣
But sometimes a drawing is good enough. And good enough really is GOOD ENOUGH. I can be a perfectionist, but trying to be perfect just ends up in a lot of frustration. Sometimes I look at a drawing I've made and can see the faults in it - but that's a drawing I made and I've decided it's good enough. Being kind to yourself does a lot more for your improvement than people realise, I think.
I'm a little all over the place when it comes to advice, but I'll share something someone told me before and it stuck with me and did a lot to help me relax:
There's no straight lines in the (human) body
Humans are naturally squish and curved! Even when a body is tough and toned, it has natural curves to it. So your lines don't need to be precise.
"Chibi" obviously emphasises on these curves and softness - especially around the face. Simplify the features! Squish and soften them! Are there artists whose styles you like? Trying drawing the bits you like and mix it up! Put Artist A's eye shapes on Artists B's head shapes!
I think the learning part is a fantastic part of doing any kind of art. Yes it can be tedious and tiresome and frustrating at times, but there's really nothing wrong with learning and figuring things out. We all start somewhere. Sometimes things will just click into place, and sometimes it'll take a bit for you to figure out what it is that's bothering you about a drawing.
Just keep experimenting and drawing. It doesn't have to be perfect. You're just aiming for something you can say "that's good enough" and take enjoyment from that. I believe I really started to improve myself when I took "good enough" instead of "100% perfect" as my end point for my drawings.
#i tried not to ramble#but i ended up doing it anyway 😅#i'm not really the best at giving advice#but i hope you find something helpful from this#ask selkie
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Imposter Syndrome & Performance Anxiety
A couple weekends ago I was in Buffalo at the NASFIC convention. While I’m not sure it was the most attended convention at which I’ve been on programming, it was the first one with a seriously national draw for program participants and attendees.
On the good side: I saw friends who’d moved away, or friends I’d never met in person, and that was amazing.
On the bad side: I had a lot of imposter syndrome creating performance anxiety going into the convention. I mean. We had panels with online attendees who were in other countries! As a small press and independent author, I felt… insignificant.
While driving out to the convention, I made a note that I wanted to do a post about imposter syndrome, but I had no idea what I wanted to talk about. If I had written the post then, it would have been a very different post than it is now. My brain is always in a different place pre-convention than it is post-convention.
You see, the anticipation is far worse than the reality.
The most important thing to remember—and this goes for any field—is that if you do work in that field, you are valid. Yes, I mean this to include photographers who only work with their phones, or people who research deeply and historically, but may not have published yet, or fans who write tons of fic and know every detail about a show. Do you have a place where you feel like you have strong knowledge, and would love to talk about it? You’re valid.
At this convention I shared panels with people who’d been writing since the 60s, and people who only started writing recently. I spoke with folks who only did fan writing. I met writers who’ve done both independent work and tradpub. I viewed art from artists who made their living by it, and artists who enjoy doing it as a hobby and side gig.
All still valid.
And the best part? Almost every single one experiences imposter syndrome at some point. We all have weaknesses that create little worms that wriggle under our skin, making us itch with anxiety, and tiny voices that whisper in our minds that we aren’t as good, or as interesting, or as… as… whatever adjective you might think of… as someone else.
Even when we think we conquer a fault, it is still there, waiting beneath the surface. (Seriously, ask me, and I will tell you my biggest weakness is that I can neither world-build nor plot… despite knowing I’ve accomplished both.)
Anyway.
The point is, we are all individuals. We all wonder if we are important enough to share what we love. We all wonder if we are good enough at what we do for someone else to be interested in it. Are we unique? Are we worth it? Will anyone care?
Yes. Yes, they will.
So, if you want to share, please know that somewhere out there is an audience for your creation (story, photograph, in-depth essay, or whatever it is…).
If you do not want to share, that’s okay, too. Create for yourself. It’s still valid.
And when you worry about what others might think, remember that the people around you are thinking that exact same thing. We all wonder: am I doing this right?
We are not alone in our fears.
I had a great time in Buffalo. Yes, there were hiccups on my panels (and oh dear gods was I ever terrified when the moderator of my first panel fell ill, and I ended up being a surprise mod for it). Yes, there were things that I wish could’ve gone differently. But overall, I’m pleased with how my own participation in my panels went.
Will I be anxious again at the next convention? Hah, yeah. Will I have imposter syndrome again? Always (in fact, I’m working on a T-shirt design).
But I know it’ll work out, too.
And I know I’m not alone.
#writing advice#creator advice#imposter syndrome#blog post#performance anxiety#panel appearances#convention appearances
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The Things You Give Pt. 29
Woooooooww. It's been WAY too long! I'm so sorry my loves. Thank you for still reading my content though! I can't tell youhow much it means to me. You all are amazing and make my day by your likes and comments! I lost a lot of inspiration towards the end of last year and it was hard to write when you don't have that or any of the creative juices flowing, but I fought it because of you guys, so thank you for keeping me writing! Anywho, I hope you enjoy this chapter! Much love!
February 28, 1979
Point Place, Wisconsin
Forman Residence
Eric Forman’s Basement
“You guys, listen to this ad,” Eric announced. “Do you like to draw? Well, I have been known to trace my hand and turn it into a turkey. If so, have your artistic ability evaluated by the cartoon academy of Fort Lauderdale.”
“Ooh, I think Picasso went there,” Kelso said.
“All I have to do is send in my drawing of Sanchez the turtle and a money order for $19.95. 20 bucks to get judged by a panel of cartoon experts? I'd pay twice that,” Eric said, grabbing a pad and pen.
“Okay, besides that, Donna…how’s the radio station going?” Jackie asked.
“It’s good,” she responded. “I get to host Tuesdays and Thursday’s from one to five A.M. Boss man is even thinking of letting me cohost with—get this—Jerry Thunder!”
“That’s awesome!” Kelso cried out excitedly. “You get to work with ‘The Sound!’” He lowered his voice, imitating the radio station announcement.
“Do you have any idea what this could mean for my career?” Donna continued.
"Oh, my God! You're going to be famous!" Jackie squealed.
“Exactly,” Eric responded. “Awe, my girl is going to be radio famous.”
“What about you, Steven?” Jackie asked, turning to him. “How’s work going?”
“Fine?” Hyde questioned, eyeing her. “Why are you so interested in other people’s lives?”
“Can’t I be interested in my friends’ lives?” she asked innocently.
“No,” he said flatly. “You’ve never have. What’s gotten into you?”
She sighed. “Well, Markus told me that I need to start taking an interest in other people’s lives other than my own, otherwise people won’t really love me like they say they do. And when I said that they do actually love me, he said they were lying to me. Is that true?”
Everyone went silent; not knowing how to respond.
Y/n clicked her tongue. “Um…well…”
“Who’s going to tell her?” Hyde asked. “Because I’m about to hurt her feelings."
“Oh, it’s true!” Jackie whined. “I thought I was being lovable. You know—like the nice princess from The Wizard of Oz.”
“Yeah,” Eric said slowly. “You’re not. You’re more like the wicked witch of the west.”
“Alright, as fun as this is, I need to get to work,” Hyde announced.
“Who’s running the store while you’re here?” Donna asked.
“Angie. She’s really wound tight on when we open,” he responded, rolling his eyes. “She’s always bitching about me not being there early and opening up on time and not closing early. It’s stupid.”
“Man, Angie is so pretty,” Kelso cooed.
“What have I said when talking about my sister?” Hyde asked gruffly.
“Don’t put her name or pretty or anything of the like in the same sentence,” he responded, not making eye contact.
“That’s right,” Hyde responded. “Anyway, Angie likes to jump my ass about everything. I didn’t close last night so now it’s apparently my fault that the store looked like a mess this morning.”
“Well, then who closed?” Y/n asked.
“Me. I closed six hours early and apparently that’s bad business. But in my defense, I had an important appointment to go to.”
“Oh, your baby appointments?” Kelso asked as he started throwing a ball into the air.
“No, I had an appointment at my darts tournament.”
“Steven,” Y/n lectured. “I know your sister is hard to work with but maybe you shouldn’t make her make your life more miserable.”
“Betrayal!” Steven cried out, pretending to be offended at his wife.
Y/n shook her head at him.
“I thought you guys didn’t get along?” Fez asked. “Why are you defending her?”
“Hey, right is right and wrong is wrong,” she replied. “And right now, Steven is wrong.”
“I think this calls for a divorce,” Eric said.
“Shut up, Eric,” Y/n said, propping her feet up on the table. “Steven, if you want her to get off your ass, maybe try pulling your weight around the store. It’s called running a business.”
“I’d hate to admit it, Hyde, but she’s right,” Donna said.
“What’s going on here?” Hyde asked. “I can’t believe you’re on her side!”
“Normally I wouldn’t be, but this time she’s right,” Y/n responded. “It’s like me doing all the cooking and cleaning around the house and taking care of the kids while you’re away at work, and then coming home just to go to bed.”
Steven blinked at her. “Okay, where’s the lesson in that?”
“Steven!” she screeched. “My point is you can’t just show up and not expect to do any work. Especially at your own store.”
Steven made a face and sighed. “Fine. But I’m going to complain the whole time.”
She shook her head at him. “That’s fine. As long as work gets done. And I expect the same at home too!”
“Sure. But just so you know you’re going to have pay me too.”
“I can’t. It’s illegal if I do,” she sassed.
He smirked at her. “I love you.”
She smiled. “Love you, too.”
“Alright, well, I’m going.”
“Oh, don’t forget, we have a class later tonight.”
“What class?”
“A class on how to take care of a baby,” she said. “Remember? I signed us up for it with my mom. The same class Kelso and Brooke took.”
He groaned. “Come on, Y/n, do I really have to go?”
“Yes,” she said. “I’m not going to be the only one changing poopy diapers.”
“See, I was thinking I could be in charge of what goes into the babies and you’re in charge of what comes out.” The look on her face said otherwise. “Fine.”
She perked up immediately. “Thank you. It’s at 6. Be here by 5:30.”
He huffed. “Okay.” With that, he walked out the basement, leaving the rest behind.
“And I’m hungry,” Y/n said and brought her feet down. “Babies and I want a snack. Maybe a bowl of fruit. And then some ice cream.” As she struggled to get up, Donna reached out to her. “No, no I got it.” She pushed herself up, but fell back into the chair. She sucked in a breath and launched herself out of the chair, barley landing on her feet. “See,” she said, breathing hard. “I got it.” She wobbled upstairs.
“What did she mean by that?” Fez asked innocently.
“What do you mean?” Jackie asked.
“When she said it’s illegal if she pays him. I thought getting an allowance was normal?”
Everyone giggled.
“What? What’s so funny?”
“Think about it, Fez,” Jackie said. “Really think. Long and hard.”
Fez was quiet as everyone looked at him, waiting for him to get it. It didn’t take a long for a sly smile to break out on his face. He giggled. “I get it.”
“We should probably go too,” Kelso said and tapped Fez’s shoulder. “We have an apartment that we’re going to go look at.”
“You guys haven’t found an apartment yet?” Jackie asked. “Fez, where have you been sleeping this whole time?”
“With me,” Kelso responded. “But I think my parents are getting sick of us.”
“What—you guys giggle like a bunch of school girls all night?” Donna chuckled.
Fez’s eyes grew a fraction. “Have you guys been spying on us?!”
“It’s true?!” Eric said, laughing.
“You know what? We really need to get going,” Kelso said and grabbed the scruff of Fez’s jacket. “See ya!”
“I swear, they’re in love or something,” Donna chuckled.
“Eh,” Eric shrugged. “Wouldn’t surprise me.”
--Time Skip—
Y/n and Steven walked into the classroom that night. Plastic babies littered the room and a few other soon-to-be parents were all there and seated.
“Come on, Y/n, do we really have to do this?” Steven whined.
“I think it’s a good idea,” she said. “We’ve never been around babies before so we need to be prepared.”
Just as she said that, a large impregnated woman waddled by them and sat in a seat farthest away from them.
“Oh, my God,” Y/n said under her breath. “She has to be in her third trimester. That looks painful.”
“Either she’s having multiple kids or her baby is going to rip her apart.”
“Not helping, Steven.”
“Hey, you two,” Kitty cooed excitedly as she walked up to the couple. “Steven, you ready to talk about burps, boo-boo’s, and binkies?”
“Yeah, sure,” he responded flatly.
“Oh, come on don’t be such a sour puss,” Kitty said. “You should be glad to be here! Especially since I’m going to be the one to guide you into parenthood.” She gave them an excited, crinkled smile.
“I wouldn’t say I’m glad—” Steven started, but was cut off by Y/n.
“Shut up, Steven.”
He clamped his jaw shut as Kitty continued.
“Well, I am so glad that you’re here anyway,” she said. “It makes it better knowing that I’m guiding you to become better parents for my grandbabies!”
“Thanks, Mrs. Forman,” Steven said genuinely.
“You’re welcome, dear.” She turned to address the rest of the class. “Okay, everyone have a seat!” Kitty announced from the front. As everyone sat down, Kitty began. “Now, when your little bundle of joy is first born, they will spend almost 20 hours a day pooping and sleeping. Who else can tell me what else they’ll be doing?”
Y/n raised her hand eagerly. “Eating.”
“Great job, Y/n!” Kitty praised. “Now, what do babies eat?”
“Breast milk and formula!” a red-headed woman said eagerly.
“Yes, great job! Now, when your baby is born and it’s time to breastfeed, don’t be alarmed when the first couple of feedings may feel uncomfortable. Once the baby latches on properly to the nipple, it should feel less uncomfortable and more of a tugging on the breast.”
As Kitty continued her teaching, Steven leaned into Y/n’s ear and smirked. “So…nothing new for you then, right?”
“Shut up, Steven,” Y/n said, blushing.
He snickered and leaned away, eyes forward.
“And just so you know,” Y/n whispered, leaning into his side this time. “You just burned yourself.”
“What? How so?”
She chuckled breathlessly. “You basically said that all you do is tug…like a baby.”
His smirk dropped immediately. “I didn’t say that.”
“Yes, you did,” she chuckled. “You just got burned, sucka!”
The room went dead silent as Kitty stared at them.
“Is there something you two would like to share?” she asked the couple who looked at like deer caught in the headlights.
“No,” Steven said.
“No, ma’am,” Y/n said in unison.
Kitty gave a curt nod before returning to the board.
⧝⧝⧝
“Hey, this place is nice!” Kelso exclaimed as he and Fez walked through the empty apartment. “Big enough to bring the ladies over.” He smirked at his friend.
“And your daughter?” Fez reminded him.
“Oh, yeah, that too.”
The two young men walked around the two-bedroom apartment, admiring it. The living room was spacious with the bathroom and master bedroom immediately to the left of entering. Straight ahead was a decent sized kitchen with a half wall bar looking straight into it. There was a hall to the left of it that lead to the smaller bedroom and a sliding door.
“I think we should go fill out an application before someone else nabs it,” Fez said and jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. “I’m going to go find the landlord before I—oof!” As he had turned around to leave, he had bumped straight into someone. “Oh, I’m sorry—oh, it’s you.”
The man stood there with a disgusted look on his face and folded arms across his chest. He was skinny with short thinning brown hair with a matching mustache. “Fez,” he said.
“Fenton,” Fez replied in the same tone and matched his stance.
“What are you doing in my apartment?”
Fez brought his eyebrows together. “What do you mean ‘your’ apartment?”
“Oh, you didn’t know?” Fenton smirked. “I’m the landlord of this joint. And before you fill out an application, the answer is no.”
“What? Why?” Fez asked, disappointed.
“You know why,” he responded and turned to Kelso. “But…I’d give it to you in a heartbeat.”
Kelso shifted uncomfortably in his place. “Uh…thanks man, but I don’t swing that way.”
“You don’t have to for me to give you this apartment. You’re way too pretty to pass that easily.”
A smug smile pressed into Kelso’s lips. “I know.”
“I’ll tell you what, I’ll give you this apartment right here, right now under one condition: You don’t make him your roommate.”
Kelso looked between the two men, stumbling for words. “I don’t—I can’t—”
“Are you serious? You can’t decide right now?” Fez asked, hurt.
“Well, I mean—I need a place, man. A place to raise my daughter.”
“But you can’t just leave me! You need a roommate to help pay the rent and I need a place a live!”
“I know, man, but I got to think of me and my daughter,” Kelso admitted sheepishly.
“I can’t believe this,” Fez said. “I thought you were my friend.”
“Fez, I am your friend!”
“No, you’re not, you son of a bitch!” He stomped out the apartment, slamming the door behind him.
“Fez!” Kelso called and started to run out the door, but Fenton caught him by the shoulder.
“Hey, the offer is still on the table, my friend.”
Kelso shook his head. “No. Not from you.” He walked out, to go find his friend.
⧝⧝⧝
“Oh, that’s great Kyra,” Kitty said, watching the redhead wrap a cloth diaper around a baby doll. “Snug so that it fits well and comfortable, but not too snug to cause rash and discomfort. And certainly not too loose! You can imagine what happens when it is!” Kitty laughed and moved onto to the next couple—Y/n and Hyde.
Y/n was struggling to wrap the diaper correctly around the plastic baby. The diaper wouldn’t stay pinned, or it wouldn’t fit right. She was beginning to get flustered and frustrated.
“I don’t think that’s how you do it,” Steven muttered.
“I know how it’s done, Steven!” Y/n snapped.
“Really? ‘Cause it doesn’t look like it.”
“Shut up,” she grumbled and finally pinned the diaper. “There!” She held up the baby in the air, showcasing it to her husband.
Kitty stepped up to their side with a look of concern. “Well, that’s very good, Y/n, but the needle of the pin isn’t supposed to go into the baby’ stomach.”
Tears pricked the corner of her eyes. “Oh, forget it!” She threw the baby down onto the table. “I’m going to be a terrible mother!”
“No, no, you’re not,” Steven said gently and picked up the baby. “I’m probably going to be a worse father—” Y/n shot him a glare. “I mean…a bad father while you…my darling…are you going to be the best gosh darn mother out there.”
She made a face at him, not believing him.
“L-look, it’s not that hard, see?” he stammered and unpinned the needle from the baby. With gentle hands, he undid the diaper and folded the bottom up, then left, and then right. He carefully pinned the diaper down and brought the baby up.
“Wow, great job, Steven!” Kitty cheered. “This looks amazing!”
“Where did you learn to do this?” Y/n asked, confused and marveled at the diaper.
“Well, when my mom would bring home one of my ‘uncles’, he sometimes would bring a kid and my mom, being the terrible person that she is, would make me in charge of watching these kids. Sometimes they were still in diapers. And if I didn’t want my house smelling like crap, then I had to learn how to change a diaper. So…viola.” He held the baby in the palm of his hand.
Y/n stared at it for a second with watery eyes before turning around and stomped out the room.
Steven sighed and set down the baby. “I better go after her. I’ll see you at home, Mrs. Forman.”
Y/n was about to exit the building when Steven called after her.
“Y/n, wait!”
“Please, leave me alone,” she said. “I don’t want to talk to anybody right now.”
“Look, come on,” he said, now at her side and grabbed her elbow. “You know you’re going to be the best mom you can be.”
“How can you know that? If I can’t put on a simple diaper, what makes you think I can do anything else?”
Steven chuckled at her.
“This isn’t funny, Steven!”
“No, no, it’s just that I find humorous that it’s you instead of me.”
“What?” she spat.
“I mean I thought it’d me feeling this way instead of you. I always thought you’d be the one to know what to do before me.”
“Well, I’m glad I could to be of service,” she deadpanned.
“Look, Doll,” he said and grabbed her hands. “You’re going to be great, I promise.”
“I’m not so sure,” she said solemnly and withdrew her hands. “I need to go, I’ll see you at home.”
“Where you going?”
“There’s someone I need to go talk to.” She pushed open the door to walk out.
“You can’t go!”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because we drove here together!”
“Oh, right.”
⧝⧝⧝
Y/n raised her fist and nervously knocked on the door in front of her. Padded footsteps could be heard from inside before the door swung open.
Brooke stood in front of her in a pink night gown, hair brushed and braided down her back. “Y/n…what are you doing here?”
“I’m so sorry to bother you this late, but…I was wondering if I can talk to you?”
“Uh…sure,” Brooke replied, a little surprised to see someone she barley spoke to standing on her doorstep. She opened the door wider, gesturing for Y/n to come in. She made her way to the kitchen. “Have a seat and make yourself at home. Would you like some tea?”
“Um…no thank you,” she replied and closed the door behind her. “I won’t be here long.”
“Okay,” Brooke said, grabbing a mug of hot tea and sat down next to Y/n. She smiled at the visibly bothered girl who sat down beside her and crossed her legs. “What’s up?”
Y/n sighed, struggling to find the right words. “When—when you were pregnant with Betsy…were you nervous?”
Brooke tilted her head in thought, jutting her lower lip out. “Well…sure. I mean, who isn’t when it’s their first child?” She chuckled, remembering the thought. “Especially when the father of your child is…well…Michael.”
Y/n couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yeah, I can imagine.” Her gaze dropped to her hands that laid in her lap. “Did you ever feel like you were going to be a bad mom? Because you had no idea what the hell you’d be doing?”
Brooke nodded. “Yeah…I did. Michael and I went to that baby class Mrs. Forman teaches and I could barley put the diaper on that stupid plastic baby.”
Y/n perked up. “Me too! How did you learn to do it?”
Brooke smiled gently at her. “It became second nature once I held Betsy in my arms.”
Y/n was silent for a minute. “But what if it doesn’t? What if—what if I do everything wrong and fail my babies?”
“You’re not going to,” Brooke soothed and tapped Y/n’s knee. “Once they are born, your motherly instincts will kick in. It’s expected.”
“Wasn’t for Steven’s mom.”
“Steven’s mom is a special case,” she responded, rolling her eyes. “You’re not going to be like her.”
“Well, I know that!” Y/n exclaimed, making Brooke laugh. “I just don’t want to be dunce that can’t figure out how to keep a baby happy.”
“You want to know the secret to a happy baby?” Brooke asked, leaning in.
Y/n perked up. “Yes!”
“There isn’t,” she deadpanned. “You’re never going to have a happy baby 100 percent of the time. They’re going to cry when they’re hungry, tired, have a full diaper, or just want to be held. Sometimes, they’re gonna cry just to cry.”
“Really?”
“Oh, yeah. At some point they’re going to get old enough to throw a fit. Betsy is old enough now to scream when she gets mad.”
“Really?” Y/n asked, most surprised than the last time she asked.
“Yeah,” Brooke sighed and rubbed her temples. “I love that little girl with all my heart, but sometimes I just want to give her a small taste of my mother’s bourbon in her milk so she can go to sleep.”
“Wait…do you?” she asked, taken aback and if she were being honest…a little amused.
“No,” Brooke chuckled and took a sip of her tea. “It’s tempting though when it’s three a.m. and she still isn’t asleep.”
Y/n chuckled. “I can imagine.” She looked down into her lap as a sudden pressure formed on her chest. “You know what? I think I’ll take that tea now.”
Brooke noticed her sudden change in demeanor, nodded quickly and rushed to the kitchen to grab her a cup of tea. When she rushed back in with a hot cup, she saw Y/n taking slow, steady breaths. Y/n accepted the cup graciously.
“I’m don’t think I’m ready to have kids,” she quivered, taking a sip from her tea.
Brooke looked at her awkwardly. “Erm…wouldn’t you rather be talking about this with your friends—"
Y/n didn’t even bother to hear what she was saying. “I’m going to make a terrible mother. I mean—I don’t know anything about babies! I read in the book Eric got me for Christmas that babies have six different cries. SIX! How am I supposed to know which ones which?”
“Okay, I guess we’re talking about it.”
“And then top of that, if I somehow manage to keep them alive, I have no idea what kind of parent I’m going to be.”
“Y/n, it’s going to be okay,” Brooke said nervously, trying to soothe her.
“No, it’s not,” Y/n practically sobbed. “I have no idea what I’m going to do!”
“I felt the same way,” she responded calmly.
“You did?”
“Oh, yeah. I had no idea what I was doing when Betsy was born. But eventually, it got easier.”
Y/n let out a small breath of relief. “Maybe I have a chance.”
“Of course you do. Every mom that is worried about being a good mom is a good mom.”
She moved the corner of her mouth upwards. “You think so?”
“I know so.” Brooke scooted a little closer to her. “Listen, becoming a new parent is stressful enough as it is. It doesn’t help when you’re eighteen and just starting your career at the library and you get knocked up at a Molly Hatchet concert.” She clicked her tongue, staring off angrily in the distance and shook her head. “Stupid Michael.”
Y/n’s gaze flicked to her and then anywhere else in the room, confused. “I assume we’re no longer talking about me.”
Brooke shook her head. “Sorry. Look, my point is, you’re going to make an amazing mom. I was scared too, but now I can’t imagine my life without my daughter. Regardless of how you feel, you’re going to make mistakes, but that’s not going to make your children love you any less.”
She smiled at Brooke. “Thanks, Brooke. That means a lot.”
“Anytime,” she hummed and leaned back. “So…what’s it like being married to one of the stooges?”
Y/n chuckled. “You got some time?”
⧝⧝⧝
“Push, Y/n, push!” Steven encouraged as he held his wife’s hand.
Y/n sat there with her legs hiked up on a table, a female nurse sitting between her legs.
“Steven, before we continue, I just wanted to say that you’re the best sex I’ve ever had,” Y/n said with a certain twinkle in her eyes.
Steven smirked. “I know. Now, come on just a couple more pushes!”
She hunched forward and barley pushed before a squealing baby could be heard.
“Congratulations it’s a boy!” the nurse exclaimed.
“Oh, my God,” the couple breathed together as they watched another nurse take the baby away.
“Okay, one more time,” the nurse said and had Y/n push once again. As easily as the first, another baby popped out, it’s cries echoing the room. “Congrats, it’s another boy!”
As the Hyde’s sat back to relax, satisfied smile on their faces, the doctor perked up.
“What?” Y/n asked. “What is it?”
The nurse’s eyes lifted to meet Steven’s and Y/n’s. “Another baby is coming out…”
“WHAT?!” the couple yelled in unison.
“That’s impossible,” Y/n panicked.
“No one told you were having triplets?” the nurse asked.
“NO!” the couple once again said in unison.
“Okay, this is almost unheard of!” she exclaimed almost excitedly. “Okay, Y/n I’m going to need you to push one more time.”
“N-no! I’m not ready to have another baby!” she cried out.
“It’s a little late for that now!” Kitty said from the corner of the room. “You should’ve used a condom!”
“Mom?” Y/n asked through her quickened breaths. “When did you get here?”
“What are you talking about? I’ve been here the whole time!” she said. “Now, saddle up and push!”
All Y/n had to do was barley push for the baby to come out.
“It’s another boy!” The nurse held the baby in her hands before her eyes grew wide. “Another one is coming!”
“NO!” the couple screamed together.
“It’s a girl! Oh…another one!”
The couple screamed as the baby came out without Y/n needing to push.
As the baby girl came out, another one came out, and then another, and another…and another. They kept on coming until there was a total of 100 babies—crying, screaming, pooping, and drooling.
“Look, Steven,” Y/n gushed. “Look at our beautiful family.” As she spoke, her voice grew deeper and distorted.
Steven stared at her in disbelief at her sudden attitude change when not even a minute ago she was panicking.
“Wait—what?” he asked through bated breaths. “This isn’t—this isn’t real. This isn’t happening.”
“Oh, but it is,” she replied, her smile growing in a distorted and an unnatural way. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think she was possessed—or the joker. “Steven, there’s no way out of this. You did this to me and now you must face before your consequences.”
“I didn’t say I was going anywhere. I—you’re not Y/n. My Y/n knows that.”
“You’re right,” she replied, now standing up. Her body seemed lankier, her limbs longer now. Her eyes grew dark as her skin paled. “Y/n is not here anymore.”
“Steven…” a weak, fragile voice came from behind him. He spun around to see a mirror facing him. Instead of seeing his own reflection, he saw his wife standing there. She looked small and frail, but it was her. Her hair once beautiful hair was dull and lacked life. Her face looked gaunt and her eyes were sunken—exhausted. What once was life and happiness and love in her eyes now only showed sadness. “Steven, I want out.”
He ambled over to the mirror, scared and confused in what appeared in front of him. “What the hell is happening?”
“I need help,” she cried. “Please, I need help!”
“With what?! Just tell me what you need and I’ll do it!”
“You should know! You caused this!” Y/n screamed at him, tears rolling down her face.
“Caused what?!”
“This,” the other Y/n croaked in a deep voice and pointed a long finger at the mountain of screaming babies. “You failed your family.”
“No! I—I swear I didn’t—I don’t want to!”
“But you did!” The real Y/n screamed. “You left me! I was drowning and you did nothing but watch me! Now, I’m nothing but an empty shell of what I once was! How could you do this to me?! You promised me!”
“But I’m still here!”
“For now,” the ugly, creepy Y/n said. “You’re going to leave just like the man who raised you did.”
“This is all your fault!” his real wife screamed, eyes now wide and erratic. She pointed her finger at him, tears still streaming down her face. “Your fault! Look what you made of me! This is your fault!”
“No!” Steven cried out. He screwed his eyes shut, shaking his head. “This isn’t real! This can’t be.”
“But it is,” a familiar voice came from the mirror. Steven opened his eyes to not see his wife anymore, but to see the one person he thought he’d never see.
“Dad?” He asked, shakily.
“Hey, Steven,” Bud said, shoving his hands in his pockets casually. His shaggy brown hair still hung passed his ears and he wore a flannel shirt and jeans—the last outfit he saw him in before he left him.
Steven couldn’t respond. He ran his hands through his hair, but when he did he saw Bud mimic his movements. As he brought his hands back down to his side, Bud did the same. He waved at the mirror only to his horror to see his supposed father wave his hand. When Steven inched closer to it, Bud followed suit.
“I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” Bud continued, a smirk painting his face. “Get a grip on reality, Steven. This is your future!”
“No, I am nothing like you!”
Bud clicked his tongue. “Then why did you do what you did?”
Steven shook his head. “I didn’t do anything.”
“Yeah, you keep thinking that. But you’ll eventually end up just like your dad.”
“No, I won’t!” Steven seethed. “You don’t know me.”
“But I do. You’re just like everybody else in this family—a lowlife. You’ve got nothing to bring to the table.”
Steven’s chest was heaving from anger. “Go to hell, Bud.”
“I’ll see you there.”
“What—?”
Before Steven could finish his sentence, the ground beneath him disappeared and swallowed him whole. He screamed as he fell through the never-ending darkness.
“No!” Steven screamed as he jerked awake. It took him a minute to take in his surroundings, gathering his bearings. When he realized it was just a dream, he was heaving and his heart was racing. He glanced over at the bedside clock and it read 4:40am. He looked to his left to see his wife sleeping peacefully beside him. Seeing her there and looking healthy and not possessed brought him a wave of peace and relief. His sudden jerking movements must have wakened her because she stirred awake.
“Babe?” she asked groggy. “Are you okay? What happened?”
“Yeah,” he breathed, his racing heart calming down. “Just a bad dream.”
She hummed, her eyes fluttering shut. “Do you want to talk about it?”
He stared down at her, taking her in, trying to forget the image of her from his dream. "No, I'm okay."
"Come here.” She opened her arms and he graciously fell into them. She rubbed his back and caressed his hair, making him feel safe. “It was just a nightmare. It’s over now. You’re safe.”
His grip around her tightened and her belly pressed into his stomach. “I know.”
“Good.”
As they began to fall back into their slumber, Steven felt something move across his stomach. At first, he thought Y/n had shifted her position. But it wasn’t until he felt a little poke to his stomach.
“What the—” Steven said, scrambling away from his wife. “Did you feel that?!”
The feeling jolted her awake as well. “Yeah, I did.” She felt more movement and another poke to her stomach. “Oh, my God…I think the babies are kicking!”
“Seriously?!” he asked, surprised. He pressed his hands to her stomach, waiting for another kick. When it came, his heart skipped a beat. “Oh, my God. There’s actually something in there.”
“Yeah,” she replied, holding her stomach in awe. “There is.”
Steven looked up to meet her loving gaze. She cupped his face before he kissed her belly. “Does it feel weird?”
“Yeah,” she chuckled. “But a good weird.”
Another kick to her stomach. “Man, these kids are kicking like crazy!”
“I know! This is incredible.”
“It really is,” he whispered.
Y/n tilted her head. “You okay?”
He nodded. “Yeah…just. Makes it real, you know?”
She placed her hands over his. “I do.”
He huffed through his nose and pressed his lips to her belly once more. “I promise to be the best dad I can be.”
Y/n’s heart and stomach filled with butterflies. “And I promise to be the best mom I can be.”
He looked at her once more before reaching up and placing a sweet kiss to her lips.
∞∞∞
“So, he’s not talking to you now?” Donna asked Kelso as he, Jackie, Eric, Y/n, Steven and Kitty sat in the kitchen waiting for brunch to finish cooking.
“No,” Kelso responded. “He packed up his stuff and left. I called his host parents and they haven’t heard anything from him. He hasn’t called me to make sure he’s okay. I don’t know, I’m worried about him guys.”
“Hey, Kelso, if things don’t work out with Angie, you and Fez should get together,” Y/n joked.
“Wait, why Angie?” Steven asked, glaring at his friend. “Kelso, what does she mean by that?”
“Nothing. It was a joke,” Kelso chuckled nervously and shot a glare to Y/n.
“Was it?” Steven pushed and turned to his wife. “Now, darling, were you joking? You wouldn’t lie to your husband, would you?”
Y/n gulped nervously. “N-no, of course not.”
“Then what did you mean by that?”
“Nothing,” she stuttered. “I was just…making a poor joke.”
Hyde squinted at her behind his glasses. “I don’t believe you.”
“Wow! Look at the time I really should be going!” She tried to get up quickly, but the new weight of her stomach slowed her down. She achingly stood and tried to stand, but Steven grabbed her wrist, stopping her.
“Y/n,” he said sternly. “Tell me the truth. Or I’m going to stop doing the thing that you like.”
“I’m going to pretend that I didn’t hear that,” Kitty said, stirring the pan of the food.
Y/n stared into her husband’s eyes before cracking. “Kelso has been secretly dating your sister!”
“Y/n!” Kelso shouted. “What the hell?!”
“I’m sorry!” she cried out. “I can’t lie to him! He’s my husband. Besides, when he threatens to take certain things away, he means it.”
Steven smiled proudly. “Damn straight.”
“Look, man, I—” Kelso began, but was cut off by Hyde.
“Nah, you listen to me. I told you to stay away from Angie and you went behind my back and did it anyway. Now, you’re going to pay.”
“Wow, this sounds familiar,” Eric piped up, pretending to think. He looked at Hyde, smirking. “Oh, yeah.”
“Shut up, Forman!” Steven snapped and turned his attention back to Kelso. “Look, I’m not going to tell you again. You’re going to end it, and you’re going to end it now.”
“What? C’mon, man it’s not like we did it or anything!” Kelso defended. “Yet at least.” He stuck his tongue out and nudged Y/n.
“Yeah…I’m not going to do that,” she responded, resting her hand on her stomach.
“It doesn’t matter. I don’t want you knocking her up too,” Hyde said. “And if you do, I will put you six feet under.”
“Yeah, how terrible would that be?” Eric mocked, still smirking.
Hyde glared at his brother-in-law. “I said shut up.” He turned back to Kelso. “I mean it. You and her? Are done.”
“Alright, man, jeez,” Kelso said and leaned back in his chair.
“Alright,” Steven said, satisfied with the answer. “Now, Y/n…”
“Yes, dear?” she asked nervously.
“I’d like to know why you tried to cover Kelso’s ass.”
“I didn’t,” she said, her voice getting higher.
“Yes, you did.” He leaned back in his chair, slinging his arm down the back, and cocked his head to the side. “You want to tell me why?”
“Uh…” she stuttered, her mouth going dry. “Guys, the babies kicked last night!”
“What?!” Everyone shouted, her diversion successful.
Kitty ran over to her and placed her hand on her daughter’s belly. “Oh, my God! My grandbabies kicked!” After a few seconds of no movement, her eyebrows furrowed. “C’mon, babies. Kick for Grandma. Kick!”
“Mom, I don’t think that’s how th—” Eric began, but Kitty cut him off with her joyous screeching.
“One of them kicked!” she cried out. “I can’t believe it! One of them kicked! Red! Red, honey, get in here!”
“What?” he asked calmly, entering the kitchen.
“The babies kicked!” she replied excitedly.
“Oh, that’s great,” he said with a grin.
“Come feel it!”
Red cleared his throat and stayed near the door. “No, it’s okay. I believe you.”
“Red, come feel your grandchildren,” Kitty scolded.
“No, I really don’t want to.”
“Red Forman, come feel the life your daughter is bringing into this world right now!”
“But…it’s so awkward,” he whined and cautiously stepped over to Y/n. His hand hovered over her bulging belly.
“It’s okay, Dad, it’s not going to bite,” Y/n chuckled.
Red sighed grumpily before barley placing his fingertips on her stomach. He stood there for a few seconds before he felt movement. His eyes widened slightly before pressing more of his hand onto her belly. Another kick to his hand caused him to withdraw.
He cleared his throat. “Well, uh, there’s that.”
“Red, those are your grandchildren and that’s all you got to say?” Kitty asked.
“Well…there really are babies in there.”
“Yeah, and in three months they’ll be here,” Kitty mentioned, but when she did Hyde’s and Y/n’s faces dropped.
“Th-three months?” Hyde stuttered; his previous frustration complete dissipated.
“Well, yeah!” Kitty answered. She gave them an astonished look as they stared back in panic. “Did you guys think that they weren’t just going to come?”
“No, I-I just thought that w-we had more time,” Y/n said and looked to her husband in a panic.
“What do you mean by that?” Kitty asked, straightening up.
“We, uh, we don’t exactly—” Hyde started.
“Oh, my God!” Kitty yelled. “You guys don’t have anything for the babies?”
“Not exactly…” Y/n answered, looking down.
“Okay, then what do you have?” Kitty asked, standing straight and put her hands on her hips.
“We…have the onesies…that Eric gave us,Y/n said hesitantly.
“That’s all you have?!” Kitty screeched, causing Eric, Y/n, and Steven to cover their ears closest to her.
“Mom, please…dogs can hear you,” Eric said, walking away.
“Steven, what are we going to do?” Y/n asked, worryingly looking to her husband.
He sighed and rubbed his neck. “I don’t know. I can ask WB if he can give me an advance on my paycheck. I can’t imagine how much this stuff is going to cost.”
“No need,” Kitty said, excited. “This gives us a perfect opportunity to have a baby shower!”
“No!” Red shouted. “No. More. Parties!”
“Red, it won’t be for us,” Kitty argued. “It’ll be for them.” She placed both hands on her daughter’s belly.
“Don’t do this,” Red said. “Don’t use our unborn grandchildren as a way to get your way.”
“I’m not!” she responded and stood straight. “We can have this baby shower and get everything that we need! We won’t have to spend a dime!”
“We still have to spend money on the party!”
“Actually, we can cover that. Right, Steven?” Y/n asked.
“Uh…do I have to be there?” he asked.
“No,” Y/n answered, knowing the answer will satisfy her husband.
“Then yes we can!” he said, more upbeat.
“There you go!” Kitty said, facing her husband. “And I think this calls for the godmother to get everything ready.” She eyed Donna who was chewing on a piece of bacon.
“By myself?” she responded with wide eyes.
“Wait, what?!” Jackie screeched. “You made her godmother?!”
“Well, yeah,” Y/n answered honestly. “She’s my brother’s girlfriend and my best friend.”
“I’m your best friend!”
“I told you not to tell her,” Y/n said to Kitty who looked away awkwardly and busied herself with preparing more food. “Jackie, you are my best friend. But I can’t make you my maid of honor and the godmother of my children.”
“Well, why not?”
Y/n made a face at her. “Because I have other friends.”
“Yeah, but I’m the best one!”
"Y/n, let me handle this one,” Eric said and turned to the petite brunette. “Nobody cares. Alright, moving on.”
Jackie clicked her tongue and huffed, sitting down at the counter.
“Okay, back to the topic at hand,” Kitty said. “We need to decide when we can have the party.”
“Hey, are we just going to forget about my problem?” Kelso piped up.
“Oh, yeah,” Steven said. “Kelso, the best thing you can do is…to stop talking about it.” He grinned at his friend when he shot him a glare.
“Steven,” Y/n said firmly and turned back to Kelso. “Just give him a couple days. He’ll come back around.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he mumbled.
A beat passed when the sliding door opened and Fez walked in.
“Hello beautiful people,” he greeted cheerfully before his eyes landed on Kelso. “Oh, hello.”
“Hey, buddy. We need to figure this out,” Kelso said.
“There’s nothing to figure out,” Fez said bitterly. “You picked an apartment over me! From my arch nemesis out of all people!”
“Fez, he’s not your arch nemesis,” Eric pointed out. “He just gets on your nerves.”
“It doesn’t matter; he still chose the apartment over me!”
“So I can have a place to raise my daughter!” Kelso defended. “Fez, man, you’re my best friend, but I got to think about my kid.”
“Alright, I’ve had enough,” Red said. “I’m going down to the apartment with you and talking to that damn landlord.”
“Oh, thank you so much, Mr. Red. That means a lot,” Fez said sweetly.
“Don’t think I’m doing this out of the goodness of my heart,” Red replied. “I don’t want you moving back into my house!”
“Also, a fair point,” Steven said in a taunting way and got up to put his plate in the sink.
“Be ready in five minutes,” Red said, grabbing his keys. “I don’t want to deal with this crap any longer.”
“Can we please get back to the topic at hand?” Kitty asked. “When should we have the shower?”
“How ‘bout next Saturday?” Donna suggested. “Gives us enough time to plan and not scatter like we did for the wedding.”
“We’re having a party?” Fez asked. “I want to go to a party.”
“Well, I think that’s a wonderful idea!” Kitty cheered, ignoring Fez. “Oh, I am so excited! I’ll start the guest list!”
“And I’ll start the food and decorations!” Donna said.
“Make sure you put cake on that list,” Y/n said. “I’m on a chocolate kick.”
“Oh, and finger sandwiches!” Kitty exclaimed. She gasped. “And tea!”
“Are we having a baby shower or a tea party?” Fez asked.
“Are you coming?” Y/n asked.
“Why wouldn’t I?” he responded. “I love planning parties!”
“Fez, it’s a baby shower,” Jackie said. “It’s not going to be a party.”
“Awe, party poopers,” he responded disappointed.
“Well, we could use you,” Donna said. “We could use your theme expertise.”
“What about me?!” Jackie said. “I have a good taste!”
“Fine, Jackie and Fez can work together,” Y/n said, exhausted already.
“Yay!” Jackie cheered, clapping her hands. “Oh, Fez we have so much to go over!”
“While this is going on, me and the boys will be at the bar,” Steven smirked and continued eating his food.
“Can you guys take Markus with you?” Jackie asked. “I’m trying to get him ‘in’ with the group.”
“Doesn’t he have any of his own friends?” Steven asked, annoyed.
“Duh, but I’d like him to get closer to you guys because I don’t like his friends,” she said candidly.
“Why not?” Y/n asked, grabbing for a strawberry.
“They’re just…eck,” she responded.
“What do you mean ‘eck’?” Eric asked.
“I mean…they’re weird!”
“Weirder than us?” Donna asked.
“Yeah, believe it or not!”
“Jackie, I don’t want to take my ex’s new boyfriend out on guy’s night,” Steven said. “It’s almost like returning to the scene of the crime.”
“No, it’s not!” she protested.
“I second what Hyde said,” Eric said, “It’s weird.”
“Ah, c’mon guys, please!” she begged. “I’d like for him to be here more often.”
“Then, he can just be here more often,” Donna said, pointing out the obvious.
“Alright, let’s go,” Red called out. “I want to get back to catch the Packer’s game.”
“But I want to talk about the party!” Fez whined.
“You want join in on some tooty frooty baby shower or do you want to get a house that has a roof and running water unlike the hut you came from?” Red threatened.
Fez’s eyes widened. “See ya.” He ran out the door to meet Red at the car.
--Time Skip—
“Are you Fenton?” Red asked as he walked into the empty apartment. In the middle of the room stood the familiar bald man with a mousy moustache. “I’m here to talk about the apartment.”
“Well, you’re in luck,” Fenton responded, flamboyantly and smiled. “It’s still available. And F.Y.I so am I.”
Red scrunched his face at him. “Look, I have a wife.”
“And I have a football, but I never use it.”
“Red!” Kelso called out, storming into the room. “I know you told us to wait in the car, but Fez keep playing his bongo music!”
“It’s called jazz, you philistine!” Fez yelled, trailing behind him.
“Oh, you’re with him,” Fenton responded, unpleased. “Deals off. I gotta get to yoga.”
“Hey, can’t we talk about this?” Red asked.
“No,” he said shortly.
“See, I told you he was going to be—” Fez started, but was cut off by Red.
“Just shut it, or I’ll shut it for you!”
Fenton looked at Red, impressed and if he was being honest, maybe a little turned on. “Well, you just don't take crap from anyone, do you, Mr. Man?”
Kelso sighed. “I knew this was gonna be a waste of time. Come on, Fez. We'll go figure out some other place to live with the baby.” He and Fez walked out in a huff leaving Red and Fenton.
“Baby? No one mentioned they had a baby. That... that's so progressive,” Fenton said.
Red cocked an eyebrow at him. “Progressive?”
“Well, how can I not give the apartment to two men raising a child together?”
Red smiled, understanding what Fenton was implying. “Oh. Yeah, progressive. Yeah, that's what they are. They're as progressive as hell. Why, they're likenewlyweds."
“Mhm,” Fenton hummed. “I wish I knew what that was like. Always a bridesmaid, but never a bride.”
Red nodded. “Right. So, we got a deal?”
“Alright, fine, but they mess up once and they’re out of here.”
Red wanted to open his mouth, but chose to keep it shut. “I don’t think that’ll be a problem.”
--Later in the basement—
“Guys, I can’t believe I graduate in a few months,” Jackie mentioned while the gang hung out. “I’ll finally become a woman!”
“Jackie, you became a woman the night you lost it to Kelso,” Y/n responded, leaning back against the couch. Her big belly now starting to cause her back pain and ankle pain.
“Man, I can’t believe I graduated a year ago,” Eric said. “Man, time really flies when you take two naps a day. I didn’t really do anything.”
“I don’t really think you…I mean you did do…man, you really sat on your ass,” Donna said, giving on trying to comfort her boyfriend.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” Eric said glumly. “I mean, I got a letter from the contest and they think I have no artistic talent. You know, I’m starting to think that the cartoon academy of Fort Lauderdale isn’t legitimate.”
“Yeah? What gave it away?” Y/n deadpanned.
“Yep, Forman, we’ve all passed you by,” Hyde said smugly. “I’m running a record store. All the while banging your sister—”
“‘Banging?’” Y/n glared at her husband. “Don’t you mean ‘married?’ I mean, I’m even carrying your kids for God’s sake!”
“You didn’t let me finish,” he said calmly and turned back to Eric. “I’m also hitched and about to have kids, Donna’s a deejay, Kelso’s a cop…even Fez has a job now. What’s it again, man? Shower girl? Makeup lady?”
“Shampoo boy!” Fez said loudly and shortly.
“Eh, I was close.”
“What did you being married to Y/n and her carrying your kids have anything to do with the conversation?” Eric asked.
Hyde shrugged. “Just another thing to rub in your face that I’m much further along than you.”
“Wait, so I’m the loser of the group now?” Eric asked, pointing to himself.
“I mean, you’re the one still living with your mommy,” Kelso said.
“Hey, I still live with my mommy,” Y/n said.
“Yeah, but you’re still married to someone who is successful,” Jackie said, leaning against the washing machine. Y/n furrowed her brows, not feeling any better. “Eric just stays home who’s mommy still cuts the crust off his sandwiches.”
Eric ignored Jackie and turned to Kelso. “Man, you’re still living with your mommy.”
“Not for long. Me and Fez are looking for an apartment and the only thing I’ll need my mom for is to do my cooking, laundry, and taking me to the dentist.”
“Well, Eric I feel kinda bad,” Jackie said. “You wouldn’t even be thinking of this kind of stuff if you hadn’t been caught in the brightness of my future.”
“You know what else is scary? If this year went by really fast, imagine where Eric will be in ten years,” Fez said.
Eric’s crappy future, ten years later…
The Vista Cruiser rolled into the Forman driveway in the late afternoon. Eric and Donna exited the car, dressed in Star Trek outfits, coming home from a convention. Eric wore the traditional fleet command uniform while Donna sported a black wig and red general commander dress.
“Thank you for coming to the Star Trek convention with me…Uhura.”
“You can call me Donna now,” she said displeased and walked into the house.
“That’s good, Fez,” Kelso said, coming back to present time. “But I think it’s going to be more like this…”
Eric’s crappy future, ten years from now…
The Vista Cruiser rolled into the Forman driveway in the late afternoon. Eric and Donna exited the car, dressed in Star Wars outfits, coming home from a convention. Eric dressed as Luke Skywalker and Donna dressed in the familiar gown and rolled side buns.
“Thank you for coming to the Star Wars convention…Leia,” Eric said proudly.
“You can call me Donna now,” she said and shuffled back into the house.
“No, you’re both wrong,” Hyde said, smirking. “It’ll be more like this…”
The Vista Cruiser once again rolled into the Forman driveway. The doors to the car opened, Eric jumping out and rounding the car.
“Thanks for coming to the convention with me…Leia,” he said.
Kitty got out of the car and walked over to Eric wearing Leia’s gown and her hair in the same style. She stared at him displeased. “You can call me Mom now.” She hurried inside, eager to get out of the itchy costume.
The gang laughed at Hyde’s theory, upsetting Eric.
“Whoa!” Eric screeched, jumping off the couch.
“They’re just joking around, Eric,” Donna said calmly. “It’s funny.”
“No, it’s not!” he defended, inching towards the stairs. “In fact,…it’s completely possible!” He bounded up the stairs, freaking out.
Y/n laughed and high-fived her husband. “Nice.”
A few moments later…
“All of my friends are on career paths. Even Kelso. Kelso! The kid who thinks N.A.T.O is Japanese for neato,” Eric ranted to his parents who sat in the kitchen. Red was reading the newspaper and Kitty was reading a magazine.
“You know it’s just not fair,” Red said, sarcasm heavy in his tone. “You sleep late, you watch TV all day…the job offers should be pouring in.”
“Why don’t you look into that chiropractic school I suggested?” Kitty asked. “They’re having an enrollment seminar. You know, being a chiropractor is a very prestigious job. Even if you move somewhere where there’s no real doctors.”
“Well, I guess chiropractor is as good as anything I've come up with. I have wasted an entire year doing absolutely nothing.”
“Hey, how bout a job stating the obvious?” Red asked, giving Eric a fake smile. “Because you’re really good at that!”
Later…
“So, you’re going to the school, huh?” Y/n asked as they once again gathered in the basement. This time, Markus had joined them who was sitting next to Jackie and Y/n on the couch, with his arm around her. “When do you start?”
“Well, they start Monday, so…probably then,” Eric responded sarcastically.
“Want me to come with you?” Donna asked.
“Wait, really?” Eric asked and turned to his girlfriend.
“Yeah. I think it’d be fun.”
“Awe, you’re such a good girlfriend,” Fez cooed before pretending to gag.
“What was that about?” Hyde asked, leaning back in his usual chair.
“All of you are in loving relationships and I’m over here more single than a freakin’ pringle,” he responded bitterly.
“Hey, I’m single too,” Kelso piped up from the lawn chair.
“Yeah, but knowing you, you’ll have a new girlfriend in, like, five minutes,” Fez replied and slumped on the couch. "I'm going to die alone."
"No, you're not,” Y/n comforted, rubbing his shoulder. “You’ll find someone.”
“Why are you lying?” Eric asked.
“Eric!”
“Yeah,” Jackie agreed with Eric. “He is one freaky, horny little dude.”
“Just ask the couch,” Hyde added in.
“I’m right here!” Fez whined. “Can’t even have the decency to wait until I walk out the room!”
“Jackie, what did we talk about comforting friends?” Markus asked, like he was talking to a toddler.
Jackie looked at the ground. “Don’t be mean.”
“And?”
Jackie rolled her eyes and sighed. “And if I can’t say anything nice, then don’t say anything at all.”
Markus nodded and looked up to everyone. “We’re working on talking nicely to others.”
“Wow,” Eric said amazed. “I like him. Can he stay?”
“Don’t listen to them, Fez,” Donna said. “They’re just being jerks.”
“Hey, I have an idea,” Y/n said. “Why don’t one of us set you up?”
“How?” Fez asked. “Do you know anybody?”
“Wait, wait…you’re not going to set up a party with all women are you?” Hyde said. “Because that was annoying.”
“No, no. Something better than that,” Y/n said. “Donna, are there any single ladies at the radio station?”
“The only lady we have there is the receptionist and she’s eighty-eight years old,” she responded.
“Is she single?” Fez asked seriously.
“She’s a widow…does that count?”
“Hm, no,” he shook his head and sat back. “I don’t want to be second choice.”
“That’s what’s stopping you?” Eric asked. “Not the fact that she’s seventy years older than you?”
“Yeah, and you won’t be able to have sex without thinking she’s going to break a hip,” Kelso said. “Or a heart attack.”
“Okay, gross,” Y/n said. “Anyone else that knows a single girl?”
“Well, I mean there’s Simpson from the police academy,” Kelso said.
“No, we all know how that turned out,” Y/n said and turned to her husband. “Do you know anyone at the store?”
“Aren’t you going to ask me?” Eric asked.
“Do you know anyone from staying at home all day?” his twin sassed. “Oh, yeah, you must’ve met someone at the Bum Factory.”
“Damn, did you have bitch flakes this morning?”
“Yeah, along with your sitting-on-your-ass-all-day scrambled eggs,” she snipped.
“Is this about what happened earlier?” Eric asked. “I already said I was sorry!”
“What else would it be?!”
“What happened earlier?” Hyde asked, scrunching his eyebrows together.
“Your idiot brother-in-law happened!”
“It wasn’t that bad!” Eric argued.
“If it wasn’t, then I wouldn’t be pissed!”
“You’re so dramatic!”
“Will you two shut up and just tell us what happened?” Hyde snapped. “I need to know if it’s funny so I can make fun of you or kick your ass. It depends.”
“It was just a slice of cake!” Eric said, turning his attention back to Y/n.
“The last slice!” she cried out.
“Just go buy a cake,” Jackie said calmly. “What’s so special about this one?”
“My mom made it! And no one else can make it as good as she can!” Y/n said.
“She probably puts kalua in it,” Jackie said. “She taught me how to make fudge once, and she said kalua was the secret recipe. That’s when I learned that she may have a bit of a drinking problem.”
“Shut up, Jackie. You’re not making it any better,” Y/n said angrily.
“Well, damn. Pregnancy has made you bitchier than before,” Jackie said and got up from the couch to grab a popsicle.
“I’m sure she’ll make it again,” Donna said. “If you ask her nicely, I bet she will.”
“No,” Y/n whined and leaned her head against the headrest of the couch. “I want it now.”
“God, you’re needy,” Eric said. “When are you going to stop?”
“When I get some damn chocolate!” she replied.
“Okay, would it be better if I ran to the store and got you something similar?” Hyde offered. “Anything to make you happy so you can stop whining?”
“I second that,” Eric said.
“No, Eric should go buy it for me,” she pouted. “He’s the one that ate my cake. And he should buy me Fatso Burger because I’m hungry. I’ll call it square then.”
“But I don’t have any money!” he whined.
“That sounds like a you problem,” Y/n said. “Want me to quit being needy? Get me food.”
“Well, why don’t you borrow money from Hyde?” Kelso asked, ignoring the fact that Hyde was moving his hand sharply against his throat, saying to stop. Talking. “Hyde has a lot of it!”
“What?” Y/n asked, looking at Kelso. “Steven and I don’t have a lot of money.”
“Of course, he does!” he continued, still ignoring Hyde as he was now waving his hands.
Y/n looked behind her and Steven stopped quickly, pretending he was just as confused.
“Steven, what’s he talking about?” she asked.
“I have no idea,” he replied. He glared at Kelso through his aviators and when his wife turned back around, he mouthed: Shut. Up.
“Yes, you do!” Kelso said. At this point he was amused and continued. “You’ve been telling me that you’ve been stashing money in your secret savings.”
“In your what?!” Y/n screeched.
“No, no, Kelso doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” Hyde defended. “He’s talking nonsense from his concussion.”
Kelso scrunched his eyebrows together. “I don’t have a concu—”
Before he could finish his sentence, Hyde threw a soda can at his head. It flew across the room at an impressive speed and smacked Kelso right in the face. No one moved as it was a day-to-day occurrence. At this point, even Markus was desensitized.
“Ow, my eye!” Kelso yelled, dropping to the floor.
“Wow, that was incredibly fast,” Donna said.
“That’s gonna leave a mark,” Jackie commented, covering her mouth with her fist.
“Hyde, you jerk!” Kelso yelled, stumbling back up to his feet. “I’m going to have a black eye and picture day at the academy is tomorrow!”
“First off: Kelso, here,” Y/n said and grabbed a bag of frozen peas from the freezer and tossed it across the room. It thumped against his chest before he caught it and pressed it against his face. “And now you,” she growled at her husband. “A secret savings?! Are you kidding me?!”
“It’s not so much of a secret savings as—” he started, now standing from his seat but was interrupted.
“How much is in it?” she asked, her eyes burning a hole in his head.
“Not much,” he replied. “And it doesn’t matter.”
“It doesn’t matter?!” she yelled, angrier than before. “You’re hiding money from me!”
“Actually, you said you have about two grand—” Kelso began but was cut off by Hyde.
“Do you want me to blacken the other eye?!” he barked at him.
“Two thousand dollars?!” Y/n screamed. “I can’t believe this! Do you have any idea what we can do with that money?”
“Yes, that’s why it’s in there!” Hyde yelled back.
“Now, does this happen every day?” Markus whispered to Jackie.
“No…no this is not,” she whispered back.
“What do you mean that’s why it’s in there?!” Y/n asked, bringing everyone’s attention back on them. “Why are you hiding it from me?!”
“Because of…reasons,” Hyde said.
“Reasons like what?! You don’t trust me?”
“No, I don’t!” he yelled back.
"The air in the room dropped. It was like it was sucked out, leaving everyone completely breathless. Y/n felt like she had been punched in the gut.
She was so hurt and angry that she couldn’t speak. She stared at him as the silence grew louder. He refused to break eye contact with her, but his body language—turned halfway away from her and his hands on his hips—said he regretted what he told her.
After what felt like an eternity, Y/n finally broke eye contact and stomped her way upstairs without saying another word. After a minute of still silence, Markus decided to speak up.
“So…what else do you guys do for fun?”
“And this is where we’ve talked about speaking in awkward moments,” Jackie said from the corner of her mouth.
Fez sat there, frowning. "Are we supposed to just forget about my problem?!”
Taglist: @not-shy-nanya @taysirene @maddieschampagneproblems @mdittyz123 @undead-sierra @random-thoughts-004 @lieswithoutfairytales @chloem4a1 @srhxpc @zhonglibxitch
#that 70s show#that 70's show fanfic#that 70s show fanfic#fez that 70s show#that 70's show gif#steven hyde#stevenhydeedit#steven hyde x y/n#steven hyde x reader#eric forman#eric forman x reader#eric x donna#donna pinciotti#donna pinciotti x reader#jackieburkhartedit#fez x jackie#jackie x hyde#jackie burkhart#michael kelso x reader#fez x kelso#kelso x brooke#kelso and brooke#jackie and kelso#michael kelso#i just love when fez sings this because it's so cute haha#fez#red and kitty#red and kitty forman#red forman#kitty forman
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What is your advice on handling criticism?
I saw your response to a critic on Lore Rekindled in the sub and it's very good and you could say, professional.
I have a big problem of people-pleasing, so if I get critcism (eventhough it's very polite), I get very sad at the fact there's fault with my work (I also suffer from perfectionism). It will drastically change how I see my work, and in the end I give it up 😭
fam i got teased tf out of for making it so wordy LOL
I totally get that struggle though, I know it probably doesn't seem it at times, but I do have the 'ole RSD (Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria) due to being ADHD/autistic, so I totally relate to the whole people pleasing thing. It's hard to feel like something you made isn't making everyone happy! But that's also ultimately not what it's for. You can't make everyone happy, and your art doesn't deserve to exist any less just because some people don't find it their cup of tea.
I've definitely had to like, disconnect my work from myself over the years to get better at taking criticism. Not to the point that I get apathetic, obviously I should be invested in whatever I'm working on, but enough that when people criticize my work, it's not necessarily an attack on my own self.
And if they are clearly just out to attack me, then I dismiss the criticism, it's of no value to me.
Unless it's something that's specifically a result of my own values or biases bleeding into the work, most of the time it's people literally just saying, "I like this work, but I feel like it wasn't as strong as it could have been here and here" and that has nothing to do with me as a person, I'm just still polishing my skills and those outside opinions help to target specifically what needs improving. I think we as artists pour a lot of ourselves into our work, especially when we're just starting out, so it can be hard not to take criticism as an attack or rejection of yourself, but we have to ultimately remember that we are not 100% of our work. Even with works like LO, while some of the criticism I give of it is indicative of Rachel's values and personal preferences as a person, a lot of it is also just about the work itself and how far it's fallen beyond what I assume Rachel intended from the beginning.
I've also learned to separate helpful from unhelpful criticism. I'll use Time Gate as an example because I've gotten way more input on that series than Rekindled (just because I've actually like, intentionally sought out criticism for it). A common criticism in the past was that there weren't enough backgrounds and the story's pacing wasn't concise. It sucked to hear at the time, especially the backgrounds one, because I'd heard that one time and time again... but it was literally because I wasn't doing anything to improve them. You know what stopped those criticisms? Drawing backgrounds more LOL And I still suck at backgrounds tbh but I feel like I've definitely improved compared to the first few volumes when I was just drawing characters on top of white constantly LOL
old and busted:
new hotness:
(i think there's like a 4-5 year difference between these two pages. and the backgrounds STILL aren't perfect in those newer volumes but they still feel more finished than the older panels did)
So that was helpful criticism! My art wasn't as strong as it could be in a few specific places that people were clearly able to pinpoint, so I did what I could to improve those places and I'm still working on it.
Unhelpful criticism has just been either personal attacks (not valuable) or statements that are basically asking the comic to not be what it is, criticizing things that are features, not bugs. Things like "well I think the story is too anime-like", "it's a lot to try and read", "why don't you draw eyelashes on the girl character", etc. which are criticisms of things that I know are intentional. The story's anime-like because that's the story I want to write. It's a lot to try and read because it's intended to be a longform series for people who like reading longform series (people like me!). I don't draw eyelashes on Uzuki because she would look terrible with them LMAO (we even made a joke about that later on):
(the hilarious part is that that comment was definitely made with the idea that all women should have that makeup look, meanwhile mitsuhiro's pulling off the look so much better and he knows it LMAO
And actually, the example you're referring to where I responded to crit in the ULO subreddit, is also an example of unhelpful criticism, though the person who posted it definitely didn't mean any harm by it, but the crit was literally "why aren't Persephone's boobs big enough" which I thought was pretty funny. She still has boobs! I just don't draw them popping out of her top like Rachel does LOL I also don't give her the exaggerated pinched waist or broken spine that Rachel often gives her because that's all just to, again, emphasize her boobs, and it's often unnecessary, especially in a comic that's being marketed as a feminist piece of work, yet is often drawn completely through the male gaze. So yeah, that was definitely crit that wasn't really beneficial because it was literally just about Persephone's cup size lol
I know it's easier said than done, but when you feel that sadness coming on in response to criticism, remember that that criticism exists to help you, not hinder you. Considering you've been getting polite criticism, that means the people giving it likely have your best interests in mind and want to see your work improve. The only way to do that is to learn how to critically analyze your own work, and the only way to do that is to surround yourself with works whose quality you want to achieve, and get outside opinions. And if that criticism isn't in good spirit, then toss it aside. If it's not going to help you, then it's not of any value to you. And yes, it will take practice, there are still times I find myself getting overwhelmed, but ultimately I can't control what anyone else says or does, only what I do. So I funnel that into my work and I always keep moving forward.
Be at peace with the process of learning and improving, because you never stop having to learn, there's always something new to improve, and that shouldn't be taken all doom and gloom "I'll never be perfect", that's literally just the process and beauty of being an artist, there's always something new to learn and that's something that should be exciting!
Think about whenever you give criticism or have personal critiques of other comics. I'm willing to bet most of the time, you have those opinions with good intentions, you're not trying to attack anyone. So why not give yourself the same grace?
...holy shit, I forgot Uzuki's lipstick in the bottom right panel- (;´д`)ゞ
#and i know i'm sounding hella hypocritical because i'm MEAN about LO lmaooo#but that's what y'all followed me here for sksksksk#i'm NOT entitled to her attention or acknowledgement#and also i genuinely don't expect or wish rachel to find my crits of LO here#i do think she needs to get better at taking criticism but at this point i'm just shitposting so that's not helpful to her LMAO#ama#ask me anything#anon ama#anon ask me anything
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